#or the way I’m gonna sift through the credits on this thing to see if indeed the folks who worked on costume design are carryovers from

[daincrediblegg]

Btw I’m so sorry to everyone for the person I’m going to become on tuesday. Its the joaquinsurgence

[ynscrazylife]

Kate bishop x reader

Taking place during episode 2. Reader is a young surgeon and kate's girlfriend. Kate comes back injured with a clint.

Steady Hands

Summary: The last thing Y/N expects is to open her door to face her girlfriend with an ex-Avenger.

Authors Note: I combined this with another Kate request. I hope you like this!

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/bevongf

“Are you usually this happy after your life gets turned upside down?” Clint Barton’s judgmental and slightly jealous voice floated into Kate’s ears as she trailed behind him, surveying the aisles of the grocery store.

Kate had calmed down enough from her awe that she was with a literal superhero to roll her eyes at him, although he didn’t catch it. “No,” she stressed. “Can you blame me for being a little excited that I’m going to a S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house?”

Clint stopped short, and Kate just about caught herself before she walked into him. “What?” He asked over his shoulder, straining his voice to not sound too shocked. He reached out to sift through some bags of pretzels, though does it absentmindedly. They were all bland, anyway.

“What ‘what’? We’re going to a safe house, right?” She asked, shifting from one foot to the other. The familiar sting from her injuries came back and she wished she could be anywhere else but this stuffy, grimy supermarket.

“Why would you assume that?” Clint questioned pointedly, resuming their walk as he spoke.

Kate shrugged. “I dunno, but you were once a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. I figured you’d have it figured out,” she admitted, now realizing just how immature and lame it sounds when she hears herself.

Clint heard it, too, because he scoffed. The minimal reaction dug a pit in her stomach. Great, the hero she admired liked her even less. “If only everything in life was that easy.” His words were vague, but she caught the disappointment and resentment in there.

Kate frowned. Where were they going to go to now? Her mother’s penthouse was out of the options, there’s no way she was gonna go crawling to Jack . . . That only left one place, or, person.

“I know where we can go,” Kate announced, surprising herself with how confident she sounds. A nervous grin slithered onto her face. Yes, she was excited to see this person again, but couldn’t imagine how she’d react to all this.

Y/N sighed as she leaned back against the couch, immediately feeling the relief as her muscles stretched from the tense position they were in. She forced her grip on her notes to lessen before she crumpled the paper, rubbing the tiredness away from her face.

Why didn’t someone tell her that medical school would be so difficult?!

Okay, she relented, Kate did warn her of that. But it was worth it. It had to be. She goes through medical school, qualifies as a doctor, and then can become a surgeon! All she had to do was remember all these procedures and information to pass her up-coming exam.

A knock interrupted her train of thought, and Y/N rose from her chair curiously. A tiny part of her was grateful for this brief distraction, but the smart part of her wondered who the hell was at the door at this hour. Peering through the peephole, Y/N saw the loving face of her girlfriend staring back at her. She made out the shoulders of someone else, but couldn’t quite determine him from this view. Thinking perhaps it was Kate’s soon-to-be step-father, but not knowing why, she pulled the door open.

“Holy Shi—” Y/N just barely caught herself before she cursed, eyes widening at the people in front of her. Indeed it was Kate, but also the man known as Hawkeye. A superhero. An Avenger who Kate had adored all her life.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” Kate greeted, wearing an over-the-top smile. Y/N snapped her eyes to meet her gaze and felt herself become grounded.

“Kate, what’s going on?” Y/N asked, now beginning to wrap her mind around this. Her girlfriend had come to her apartment late at night, with an Avenger, and appeared to be cut up and bruised — she had definitely gotten herself into some sort of trouble.

“Nothing I can’t handle! I was just wondering if my new friend Clint and I could crash here for a couple nights? Please? We’re kinda on some important superhero business,” Kate pleaded, ignoring the elbow Clint gave her.

Y/N looked between the two archers, gobsmacked. Clint offered her a small, forced smile which did nothing to lessen her confusion. Nonetheless, she forced that aside. She trusted Kate and Kate needed her.

“As long as you help me study for my test tomorrow,” Y/N conceded, letting herself share the brunette’s ever-contagious grin. Kate practically jumped in excitement, bouncing on her feet as Y/N stepped aside to let them in.

“There is one thing though,” Kate added. After locking the door, Y/N spun around on her heels suspiciously. “This guy is kinda injured. He insisted he was fine, but since you’re here, I figured he should be checked by an actual doctor.”

Y/N looked at Clint and sighed, letting the back of her head lightly hit the door. “I’m a med student, studying to be a surgeon not a—” she began to reiterate, but was cut off.

“Yeah, well, it’s like the same thing,” Kate insisted, shrugging her shoulders.

“It’s really not,” Y/N tried to convince her.

“Let’s just — just make sure I’m not dying, okay?” Clint reasoned, trying to keep them from going any further as he saw Kate begin to open her mouth. He was far too exhausted to deal with stubborn teenagers making no sense.

Y/N relented at that and them both sit down on the couch while she went to grab her makeshift first aid kit. Kate sighed as she spotted all of her girlfriend’s messy notes, instinctively going to organize them. Y/N was usually very organized, but those skills failed her in times of stress. Kate knew her well enough to know that if any of these notes got lost or damaged, that would only send Y/N spiraling into tears and yells.

Clint observed his new ally curiously, a little surprised to see her displaying an act of such genuine kindness. He smiled to himself, deciding that maybe she wasn’t so bad for a teen that was definitely in way over her head.

When Y/N returned, she quickly got herself situated. Opening up the first aid kit, she asked Clint the standard questions or if he was in any pain and how much. He told her that he had bruises and cuts all over, but the main pain was mostly in his left arm. Y/N gave him bandaids and disinfected the cuts on his arms. Since that didn’t take much time, she was able to quickly move onto the main concern. Y/N knew enough to tell that no bone was broken or anything, but made him a makeshift sling for good measure.

Kate wore a fond smile as she watched her girlfriend work. The way she tucked her chin and furrowed her eyebrows in deep concentration made Kate swoon. She would never get tired of watching her do what she does best. Her hands were rock solid as she worked, and Kate marveled at that. If she was dealing with a potential broken bone and risked injuring her patient with one wrong move, she’d be a trembling mess. That was probably the thing that fascinated Kate the most about Y/N — how steady she was. In high school Y/N had sewn, and Kate always wondered how her stitches came so perfectly, beautifully. No wonder she’d want to become a surgeon.

“All set. I have a guest room you can stay in and Kate’ll stay in my room.”

Y/N’s words caused Kate to blink, looking up to see Clint thanking her and rising from his seat. He bid them a quiet goodbye before retreating into the hallway, in search of the room.

Once they heard the door close, Kate smiled, about to go to her girlfriend’s comfy bed. To her surprise, Y/N went in the opposite direction. She nestled herself further into the couch, reaching over to grab her notes. Quicker than a snap, she was back in the zone, mumbling to herself as she tried to stick something in her memory, glancing to and fro across the notes.

Pouting, the brunette sat back down and leaned forward, tugging at the notes. “Hey, what are you doing?” She asked.

Y/N promptly pulled her notes back, eyes never ceasing to dart around the inked words. “I have an exam tomorrow. I need to study,” she said, in a monotone and rehearsed voice.

Looking around the room, Kate sighed. “How long have you been studying for?” She asked.

Y/N gave a small shrug. “Since I after I finished my takeout,” she murmured.

Kate eyed the takeout bag on the counter and reached it in quick strides. Peeling it open, she noticed that barely half of it had been eaten. Frowning, Kate made a decision. She walked right back to her girlfriend and easily slipped the notes from her loose grip, beginning to organize them and put them away.

“Hey!” Y/N protested, immediately leaping forward. “What are you doing? I need to study!”

Kate spared her a quick glance and caught, out of the corner of her eyes, her hands shaking like a frail leaf. Oh, god. That was never a good sign. She knew Y/N well enough by now.

Quickly dropping the notes, she encased Y/N’s hands in her own, meeting her gaze. “Hey, hey, take a deep breath, okay? You need to rest,” she said, her tone low and gentle but also firm.

Y/N just shook her head and bounced her leg, dissolving into her nerves. “No, no. I’ll-I’ll fail without the notes. Please,” she begged, lightly struggling against Kate’s grip. Tears quickly brimmed at her eyes, finally having broken out against the dam she had kept them behind.

Kate nearly started crying herself when she realized how bad it had gotten. Standing up close, she could see the bags under her girlfriend’s eyes. When was the last time she gotten a good night’s sleep?

“Oh, babe,” she said, frowning sadly. “You’re going to do great on the exam. You need to sleep, though. What’s all the point of studying if you fall asleep in the middle of it?” She attempted to reason, keeping her grip steady.

After a moment or two, Y/N lowered her head tiredly and sighed. Slowly, she began to relax. Her breaths grew deeper and her leg stopped bouncing. Yet, her hands still trembled.

“I know, but if I don’t get a good grade—” she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence in fear of jinxing it. She leaned forward, allowing her forehead to rest on Kate’s shoulder. In turn, Kate pulled one hand away, patting Y/N’s back.

“C’mon, let’s go sleep,” Kate said. At Y/N’s nod, she maneuvered them so her arm was wrapped around Y/N’s shoulders, one hand still holding hers. She led them to her girlfriend’s room, turning on the light as Y/N practically collapsed on her bed, snuggling under the blankets.

Kate smiled, rummaging through Y/N’s drawers for pajamas. She tossed a tee-shirt and shorts at Y/N, laughing when Y/N promptly whined as she dragged it off of her face, and grabbed one of Y/N’s oversized shirts for herself. The two changed in silence, both opting to disregard their daytime clothes on the floor.

Once done, Kate jumped onto the bed, making it bounce. She curled up beside her girlfriend, wrapping her arms around her waist and nestling her head into Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N let out a content sigh, leaning back into Kate.

Soon, the only sounds that filled the room were their breathing evening out. Neither of them had even bothered to turn off the light before they fell into a peaceful, heavenly slumber.

Kate’s last thought before she slipped into sleep’s clutches were how Y/N’s hands had finally stopped shaking in her hold.

The next morning, Kate awoke bright and early. A goofy smile rested on her lips, not at all bothered by the fact that sometime in the night, Y/N had shifted so her hair was in Kate’s face. At some point, Y/N had shifted to lie on her stomach, nearly pulling Kate on top of her.

Mindful so as to not disturb her sleep, Kate carefully disentangled herself from Y/N. She managed to stand up and looked down at her girlfriend’s still sleeping form with a smile. She had slept! She had rested! Her mission was a success.

Checking the time, Kate was relieved to see that it was still early in the morning. Y/N wasn’t needed at her exam until the late afternoon, so that gave Kate plenty of time to enact the plan she had whipped up when she first saw her girlfriend studying the previous night. She changed into an outfit of Y/N’s (that she had actually stolen from Kate) and got herself ready for the morning.

After packing a small bag, she scribbled two notes out, both saying that she had to run out for an errand but would be back soon. She stuck one on the fridge in case Clint woke up first and one on Y/N’s beside table.

Pressing a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head, Kate left the apartment, careful not to make noise.

Kate couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she trudged up the stairs, bags hanging off her arms. She didn’t even mind that Y/N lived on the third floor! The moment she had purchased all her goodies using a secret credit card her mother hadn’t cancelled yet, she had dreamed of Y/N’s reaction. She almost wish she had a camera with her to capture it.

It was a couple hours later. She had spent the morning going from shop to shop, buying Y/N all the fancy and somewhat expensive things that she knew she deserved. From her favorite chocolate and candy to fancy perfume and a big cuddly teddy bear, Kate had definitely spoiled Y/N. Would it do a number on her credit card and on her mother’s reaction? Most definitely, but she didn’t have it in her to care.

With all the things she was carrying, she was forced to kick the door to get somebody’s attention. Clint answered, in his hands a cup of coffee. He sent her a confused look, clearly wondering what she hell she had bought, but didn’t say anything about it. When he stepped aside, Kate entered. She had the perfect view of her girlfriend, sitting cross-legged on the couch, papers and books surrounding her.

The brunette sighed, but she wasn’t surprised. At least this time, the bags under her eyes were gone and she looked more awake now.

“Y/N/N!” Kate said in a sing-song voice. She missed how Clint rubbed at his head and took a long sip from his coffee. It hadn’t even been a full day and she already exhausted him.

Y/N’s hands snapped up, eyebrows furrowing when she saw her girlfriend. “What’s all that?” She asked, notes forgotten.

“It’s for you!” Kate answered, dumping them on the couch.

Curiously and a little suspiciously, Y/N moved forward to peer inside. Gasping, she said, “You did not—“

“I did,” Kate said, sitting next to the bags. She said it in such a way that someone could practically hear the grin in her words.

“Oh my god, you are too much. Thank you!” Y/N said, as she dived into the chocolates, practically ripping it open.

Kate watched her happily, filled with her own glee at seeing Y/N so relaxed and excited. “Anything for you,” she said, and she meant it.

Her hands didn’t shake once throughout the entire day, even when she sat down to begin the exam. Kate’s presence had been the trick to calming her down and getting her through this. 

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[fruitcoops]

Hi Eve! Okay so I was reading sw and after the cubs get together we see Finn and Leo tell part of the team about their relationship and Logan telling Sirius, but we never get to see Dumo finding out and I would really love to see Logan telling Dumo. I just feel like coming out to him would be a really important moment for Logan and a very cute, emotional, father/son, bonding moment for both of them.

I adore your writing and if you have the time, I’d love it if you could write something like that? Thank you!♥️♥️

Fic O' Ween Day 10 (Cryptids) was an ao3 fic, so here's Day 11! I'll be publishing Day 12 sometime today or tomorrow <3 Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Day 11: Halloween Song

If there’s somethin’ strange, in the neighborhood—

“I’m in a relationship.”

Dumo paused with a handful of unicorn streamers halfway to his cart. “Really?”

“Mhmm.” Logan was still sifting through the sticker bin, elbow-deep in characters from a dozen different holidays, but his hands trembled. “Have been for—for about a week now, officially.”

He nodded slowly and set the streamers down. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck— “What’s their name?”

Logan snorted. “Not assuming it’s a girl?”

“I think I learned that lesson already with my other basement goblin. Is she?”

“No.”

Is there something in the tap water? Dumo thought as ‘Ghostbusters’ continued to play overhead. Maybe something haunting the basement walls? “What’s…his name?”

A beat of quiet passed as Logan continued shuffling through sparkly butterflies; he swallowed hard before chancing a look over. “Two.”

Dumo blinked. “Two? Two boyfriends?”

His answering hum was a bit strangled. “You know them, actually.”

“Alright, well, good for—”

“It’s Leo. Knut. Knutty?” He cleared his throat. We’re doing this in a Party City playing outdated Halloween music, Dumo realized through his fog of surprise. My other son is coming out to me and we’re in fucking Party City. “And Finn. Finn O’Hara, the…you know him.”

“Yeah, I know him,” Dumo said, feeling rather silly about the whole thing. He wasn’t exactly surprised, but he had to admit it had been a toss-up between the two for who Logan would end up with. Both…both wasn’t bad. “That’s wonderful, Logan.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” he said thickly, swiping his cheek on the sleeve of his shirt without taking his hands out of the sticker bin. “It’s—I’ve been in love with Finn for about six years, actually, and Leo’s Leo and he’s just great and I’m gay but also not really?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Dumo reached out and placed his hand on the back of Logan’s shoulder, where he could feel him shaking all the way through. The tinny song echoing through the nearly-empty store was almost over. “I’m proud of you.”

He took a shuddering inhale. “D’accord.”

“Viens ici,” he murmured, folding Logan into his arms with a sigh. Hands immediately clutched the back of his thick sweater and a sob was muffled in the knit—he ran his palm in a steady circle over Logan’s shoulder blades until his shivering eased. “This is wonderful news and I am very, very happy for you.”

“I th—I think Sirius and Loops figured their shit out,” he said, sniffling. “They’re gonna be okay.”

“So are you.”

“It’s kind of a lot, isn’t it?”

Dumo gave him a light squeeze of comfort and felt Logan melt into him. “Not if it makes you happy.”

“I haven’t told anyone else yet.”

The electro-synth faded into silence and Dumo closed his eyes. “Thank you for telling me, then. I won’t share unless you want me to.”

“You can tell Celeste. Probably easier that way.”

“D’accord, mon fils.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Logan’s head; after a few more seconds, Logan pulled away and wiped his face off before turning back to the stickers. “We can head home now, if you’d like. We don’t have to stay.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” he said with a wet laugh. “We might miss the Christmas music next.”

“Logan?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is this the ‘no boyfriends behind a closed door’ talk?”

“Non,” Dumo laughed. “If all three of you can manage to fit in one bed, you deserve it. It’s just…I’m proud of you. That’s all.”

His teasing smile slipped into something softer and a flush spread up to his ears. “Merci.”

“I’m proud of you,” Dumo repeated. I wish I could have had this conversation with all five of you. “And I’m here for whatever you need.”

Logan set the roll of glitter-coated stars down and Dumo met him in the middle for an even tighter hug, one that nearly knocked the breath out of him. There was nothing more he needed to say—Logan, despite his allergy to emotional discussions, seemed to understand. They would have plenty of time to discuss the details later without ‘The Monster Mash’ as their background music.

[captainmarkone]

back home. character(s): arthur morgan x reader / the gang. warning(s): none but some angsty feels... kinda? summary: after four months of "scouting" in the North, you return home. it hasn't been easy on your own, but being back with your family is all that you want. but all is strange with you bring someone back with you. category(ies): one-shot follow up. a/n: adding some spice into this. this a follow up to time apart, so if you haven't read that first, make sure you do! as always, if you see mistakes, you didn't. this will have another (3rd) part after this one. you guys have given me such love and inso for it. credits: divider // gif.

Arthur stood there under the makeshift tent near his wagon. Reading the letter over and over. Not quite understanding how or why you were hurt by such a thing. He loved you. In the years of running from the law together, he loved you.

Though you two never said it. It was a confession he wasn’t ready to make. Not after Mary. He shoved the letter into his satchel and made his way to horse. Mounting it, he saw Ms. Grimshaw making her way toward him from Pearsons station.

“Mr. Morgan!” she called out, raising her hand to stop him.

It was too late as Arthur took off, his horse doing as told. Reaching the Valentine train station, he has thought he made it on time. But the train motioned forward, lurching to life. He halted, his breathing hard and heavy as he watched it fly on its tracks.

The ache is heart started to creep it way over his body. He could feel the hole in his chest slowly start opening. Turning, he saw Tilly and Charles on the platform, walking toward the ramp at the front of the building.

They made eye contact with Arthur, Tilly shaking her head in disappointment as she walked toward the horses.

“You’re a fool, Arthur Morgan. But she’ll be back. Don’t you worry,” Tilly said, climbing onto her horse with the help of Charles.

As Charles climbed on to his horse, it trotted toward Arthur slowly, hand reaching out and resting on Arthurs’ his shoulder. “You should write to her, brother. Don’t be a fool anymore,” his friend said, trotting into Valentine with him.

“Let’s get a drink. Put the thoughts at ease,” Charles continued. Arthur was stunned into silence. Tilly had made her back toward camp, not wanting to hear Arthur’s ranting.

“I don’t know why she just couldn’t talk to me!” Arthur exclaimed, shaking his head and fixing his old weathered hat.

“Well… why didn’t you talk to her? Tell her that Mary needed your help? Why keep it a secret?” Charles questioned. It racked his brain as much as Arthur’s.

Arthur knew you liked Mary but it was to an extent. He also knew that you knew how deeply in love he was with Mary. Was. Not anymore, no longer. He was gonna marry her after all. Until Mary didn’t want no part in his way of life and Arthur wasn’t ready to change to a life of domestication.

“Hell,” he drawled, “I don’ know. She knew Mary didn’ want to live this life with me. Always on the run, always hidin’. I didn’ mean to keep it a secret. And, well, I’m just a plain fool.”

Riding into town, the men hitched their horses to the posts right outside the saloon. Wanting nothing more than to get drunk when walking inside.

Riding up to the post office, you hitched your horse to the post outside and sighed deeply as you could finally stretch your legs.

Walking in, you stepped toward the caged area and nodded at the mail clerk.

“Mail for Louise Kilgore,” you stated, and watched the male excuse himself to see what had come in. Looking around the area, you saw a few people standing and sitting about. One checking the bulletin board near the door, seeing the MOST WANTED poster. You’d have to grab that on the way out.

“Ms. Kilgore. You got a few. Have a nice day,” he said, placing three envelopes through the small opening of the window and slid it to you. You gave a soft “thank you” and walked out. Only to turn around and snatch the MOST WANTED poster. You’d catch them later.

Sifting through the envelopes, you saw one with Arthur’s hand writing. You stood in your tracks, feeling your breathing stop. It has been two months since you’ve seen the gang… seen Arthur. Your fingers moved over the words on the envelope. The other two were in Tilly and Abigail’s handwriting. You’d read those later.

Opening up the envelope, you slid the paper out and opened it. Already feeling the tears brim your eyes. You closed it up, not wanting to read it just yet. You placed it neatly in your satchel and hopped back on to the horse.

“Hyah!” you yelled, the horse full speed running toward home.

Arriving home, you hitched your horse to his post and walked into the cabin. Sheltered from the world. You had found it a week after getting here. It was abandoned and had been staying there for the time being.

Sitting on the chair in the kitchen, you’ll pulled the letters out but opened the one from Arthur back up. Breathing softly as you read the lines carefully.

Sweet Girl,

I ain’t good with my words. I don’t know how I am even supposed to word this. This letter. I suppose I should be angry or something, but I ain’t. I don’t blame you for wanting to leave. I understand the reason. Never did I want to make you feel like you weren’t important to me. I should have told you about Mary but I knew if I did, you would give me that look you always give when you weren’t happy. I even bet you’re doing it right now just at the mention of Mary.

You stopped reading, realizing you were. You cursed him under your breath. He knew you too damn well.

Tilly told me you will be back and I promise I’ll be here waiting for you to come home to me. You think I am a good man, but I am only that way because of you, sweet girl. Mary is my past, always will be. Charles said I shouldn’t hide my feelings, especially since I’m writing to you. So come home, sweet girl.

Yours,

Tacitus Kilgore.

Oh, Arthur. He knew just how to make you feel something. Something that shouldn't make you want to immediately forgive him. But things just... it didn't feel right to come back. Emotions, feelings all rose to the surface and you wiped your eyes.

Closing the letter up, you placed it on the table and sat there for a moment. After thinking for a long moment, you decided it was time to go home. You stood up, taking the MOST WANTED poster from your satchel and set out to find Jimmy Newman.

T W O MONTHS L A T E R.

Wanting nothing more than to be home, you saddled on your horse, galloping through the harsh winds. The sun blistering down your back as you pushed your horse harder. They were no longer in Valentine. Tilly had mentioned they were now somewhere called Clemons Point.

Slowly trotting through the thick brush of woods, you saw a familiar face by a tree. You grinned widely when you saw Sadie Adler.

“Who’s there?!” she yelled, eyes going wide as you neared her. Your smile wide as you hopped off your horse. Arms wrapping around the female, her doing the same.

“Mrs. Adler!” you exclaimed, keeping the embrace. She was just as happy to see you. And the get up you were wearing. Pants, just like her. You two laughed at the change, saying you had to become a bounty hunter just to survive. Either that or becoming a street worker.

“Arthur here?” You asked and she shook her head. “No, he’s out with Hosea and Dutch. Trying to con some rich family,” she continued, shaking her head.

“Well Mrs. Adler, I’m very happy to see you. I’m going to say hello to everyone else,” you said, hopping on to your horse. Looking back and then to Sadie, nodding at her. Trotting toward the campsite, you heard exclaims of excitement. You grinned as Tilly ran toward you. Hopping back off your horse, you embraced your closest friend.

“You’re back! I can’t believe you’re back!” she exclaimed, happiness filling her heart. Soon you hugged Abigail, then Pearson. Everyone asking how the North was. That was when you turned and motioned toward the male that had followed you.

“Who’s this?” John asked, hand already resting on his holster.

“This is Theodore. But he prefers the name Theo,” you introduced your friend. Your hand resting on his shoulder. You smiled at the male and back at your group of friends.

“Well then… must have been a good time up North,” John said, Abigail smacking his chest to shut him up. But he knew that Arthur would be pissed.

“It’ll be a story for the night,” you said, laughing. Looking back at your friend, you smacked his arm playfully.

“You can bunk with me. Mary-Beth met a young gentleman in Rhodes and had been with him ever since!” Tilly said, escorting you and Theo to the tent.

Tonight was going to be an interesting one. You could feel it. Especially with the way John was watching you from his tent across the way.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑆/𝑂'𝑠 '𝐶𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝐾𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑜𝑢' 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Hongjoong was busy scribbling away on his notebook that he didn't even notice that you had set up a camera to face him in the studio. Giving a thumbs up to the screen, you tiptoed over to where he sat. Crouching down, you wrapped your arms around him and kissed his cheek. He didn't really react so you leaned in and kissed his nose, this time a small smile formed on his lips.

"Ok. Ok. Come here." He pushed his chair backwards and placed you on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist.

He thought you just wanted to sit on his lap while he worked, but instead he got you placing kisses all over his face, which made it impossible for him to concentrate, especially when your lips were so soft and warm.

"Baby." He whined as you smushed your lips onto his.

"Hmmm?" You hummed as you continued to kiss him.

"I'm trying to finish.." He told you but still made no effort to move you, instead he just lazily kissed you back.

You chuckled against his lips.

"Ok then..." You pulled back slowly and stood up to get off him.

"Wait! No! Come back!"

In an instant, Hongjoong made you straddle his lap again, his hands cupping the sides of your face as he began kissing you again. He just couldn't stop after you made him crave some smooches.

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

All throughout the day, you had been pecking Seonghwa's lips whenever you got the chance. He didn't notice anything off about it, you were always affectionate with each other and he himself tended to be kissing you randomly.

He started to suspect something was up though when you were helping him with his sit ups. Every time he came up, you purposefully kissed him, making him lose count or get distracted. He just giggled though and thought you were being playful or to motivate him in his workouts.

So when you two were cuddling, he started to do the same to you: he began randomly kissing you, making you a blushing mess.

"Seonghwa!" You squeaked when he began kissing down your neck.

"What? You've been like this all day, but when I do it, you get shy?" He shook his head.

That's when you bursted out laughing and began explaining to him what was going on. He became embarrassed and began laughing.

"Here I thought I made you fall in love with me more and that's why you were so lovey dovey." He confessed awkwardly.

You smile and leaned in to kiss him again.

"There's no way I could possibly fall more in love with you than what I already am."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Yunho was already excited at the thought of getting to spend time with you after endless promotions. He had missed you so much and craved your affection that he obviously didn't find it weird that you were peppering him with kisses when you met up.

"Oh my god. Baby did you miss me that much?" He teased you even though he had missed you a lot as well.

You two went out and did all sorts of things: go to an arcade, take a walk in the park, got lunch somewhere and eventually went back to your place to watch some movies. All throughout this, Yunho had not really noticed that you were kissing him more than usual.

Sensing that he wasn't really reacting, you decided to try something. Throughout the entire movie, you began kissing different parts of his face almost every 15 seconds. At first Yunho just smiled and would mutter something about you being cute.

Then suddenly, after you kissed his neck for 4 times in a row, he stopped and looked at you with a serious look.

"I hope you're willing to take responsibility for your actions."

He shocked you when he tackled you onto the couch, trapping you in his arms as he aggressively kissed your cheeks and neck. You writhed your body as you tried to get out, but Yunho wasn't having it.

"You can't just keep kissing me and showering me with affection and not expect me to retaliate Y/N! This is war!" He chuckled as he kept attacking you with kisses.

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

You truly weren't sure how to go about this. Yeosang wasn't particularly fond of PDA and wouldn't often initiate affection. Still, you wanted to see how he would react....if he even reacted at all.

You started off by linking hands with him as you walked by the streets, he didn't seem to mind, even putting your hands inside his coat pocket to keep them warm. Going in for the kill, you pecked his cheek. He stopped in his tracks for a split second but then continued on as if nothing happened, only noticeable difference was the blush on his cheeks and ears. You tried doing that several more times and succeeded in 4 of them, but the rest Yeosang ended up avoiding.

You honestly felt disappointed. Sure Yeosang was shy, but you never thought he'd reject your affection so coldly. So you decided to give up and just sat there quietly next to him on the bed as he read one of his many novels, his hand squeezing yours every now and then. Feeling a little brave and wanting to try it one last time, you leaned in and placed 3 kisses to his temple. Yeosang paused before closing his book. After he set it down, he turned to look at you, sighing as he stared deep in your eyes. You were about to apologize but then he surprised you by pulling you into a soft and romantic kiss.

He only pulled back to whisper against your lips:

"You have no idea how long I've been holding back." before proceeding to kiss you again.

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

You already pictured how the challenge might end up, you knew your boyfriend so well. As expected, every time you placed a kiss on any part of his face, he'd return the favor. And the more kisses you were giving him, the more he clung onto you.

Soon, it was he who was placing more and more kisses on you that you almost forgot you were supposed to be the one doing the kissing.

"Seriously baby? What has gotten into you?" San asked you rather amused when you crawled into his lap and intensified the amount of kisses you were giving him.

"Don't." Kiss. "Know." Kiss. "Want." Kiss. "Kissies." You responded with kisses in between your words.

San chuckled at how cute you were.

"Well....seems to me like someone is being needy."

He flipped your positions so he was now hovering above you, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Do you want some help?"

Attaching his lips to your neck, San began nibbling on all your sensitive spots, making you get flustered as you tried to push him off.

"San! Wait! It was only a challenge!" You exclaimed, letting out a tiny moan when he bit down on a particular spot.

"You think that's gonna stop me?" He smirked at you.

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

"Baby? What do you think of this one?"

Mingi only got a kiss in response to his question. He blushed slightly and put the red sweater back.

"That's the 4th time you've done that." He pointed out.

"Done what?" You feigned ignorance.

"Kissed me out of nowhere." He explained.

You merely mumbled something and went back to looking through the clothes on the rack. Mingi was confused though, not knowing what was going on. Were you trying to tell him something? Were you mad at him? Did he do something wrong? Was this payback? He was so lost.

He just decided to see what else you'd do and indeed, you kept pecking his lips at random times that left him baffled and somehow wanting more. Now whenever you started leaning in, he'd cup your chin and kiss you back. He began thinking that maybe he'd been neglecting you and you wanted extra love. So when you guys got back home, the first thing he did was pick you up and carry you to the bedroom as he kissed you all over your face.

"Ok we're home now. So let me love you and adore you like the little baby you are." He cooed at you as he tangled his legs and arms all around your body.

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

You were frustrated. At first, everything was going fine. Wooyoung became shook every time you planted a kiss on his lips at random times, sometimes blushing. But now? He was evading your kisses.

"Oh look! Mail's here!" He exclaimed as he walked away from you before you could even lean into his face.

It seemed like he was doing it on purpose. So you tried something.

"Woo? Can you get this thing down for me?" You pointed to one of the cabinets in the kitchen.

Sighing, Wooyoung abandoned his task of washing fruits to go help you out.

"Shorty." He snorted as he got down the box of pretzels for you.

You grinned at him. "Thank you my handsome and tall boy-"

You were cut off because he placed the box in front of your face when you tried to yet again kiss him. He began laughing at your frowning face.

"You're so mean! All I want is to kiss you!" You huffed.

"Oh really? You sure it's not for your vlog?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

You widened your eyes at him, wondering how he knew when he continued.

"You're not very discreet baby. And besides, I'm always the one initiating kisses. That was the first clue something was up."

You had to give it to him: he is smarter than what you gave him credit for.

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

You decided to start early, knowing it'd be a lot cuter to catch his reaction if he was still half asleep. You cuddled up next to his sleeping body, sifts snores coming out of his nose. You brushed your nose against his cheek before pressing a soft kiss on his skin. He didn't move.

Pouting, you moved him slightly, making him groan softly. Hovering on top of him, you began pecking his lips repeatedly. At first, Jongho only twitched the corners of his lips and then he started giggling softly.

"5 more minutes baby cakes. And then I'll play with you." He whined softly.

You started humming, making it seem like you'd let him have his 5 minutes, but one minute passed and you began kissing his lips again. Jongho groaned, repeating that he was tired. You began to kiss his shoulders and when he shuffled his body, you ended up kissing his neck, more specifically, right on his mole, where he was particularly sensitive in.

Jongho's eyes shut wide open, startling you and further scaring you when he flipped you in the blink of an eye and pinned you down on the bed.

"Ok. My turn."

He was definitely awake now.

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

[jisungscaramel]

vexation | hyunjin

❀ genre; smut, college au, enemies au  ❀ pairing; hyunjin x reader (fem) ❀ word count; 2.7k 

[warning] strong language, explicit sexual content, dry humping, (mild) begging, hate sex

There it was: Hwang Hyunjin, name beautifully printed right above yours. You shuddered in complete disgust, not believing that you were paired with him of all people for your history presentation. There were 34 students in the class; that meant you had a whopping 97% chance of being paired with literally anyone else, but no. Your professor, Dr. Zhang, just had to pair you with him. 

Overachiever: that was an understatement. He was the type to want all of the glory for the taking, the type to enjoy making others feel like they were dumb, the type who had no issue in forsaking common morals for his own gain. 

You couldn’t fucking stand him. 

Begrudgingly, you stood up from your original seat, trudging your feet to sit next to him - at your professor’s instruction, of course. You planned on at least being polite, and you thought for a second that he might do the same, but he didn’t even bother looking at you, staring through to the front of the room, eyes stoic. If he was trying to provoke you, it was definitely working. 

You dropped your backpack to the ground, unceremoniously, sound drowning in the increasing levels of chatter in the small lecture hall, but clearly loud enough to make his composure teeter; his head jerked back a millimeter, a minuscule gesture but it was painfully obvious to you. And you let out an equally obvious slew of snickers before sitting back in the seat, neck meeting the old frayed fabric as you tilted your head back, arms stacking on one another as you folded them, woman spreading to occupy more real estate than you actually required.

You had to at least try to keep yourself amused. 

Hyunjin began scribbling mindlessly on a blank piece of paper - still acting as if you were not even there. 

He slammed the white sheet down on your knee, sending vibrations straight up your leg rather rudely. 

Asshole. 

Oh, baby, he hadn’t even started yet. 

“Okay. We’re doing our paper on I-Hotel and… I’m gonna write it. All you have to do is find these books for me at the library.” He turned to look at you with a very aggravating smirk… maybe you’d notice the tiniest hint of flirtation if the feeling of overwhelming irritation didn’t encompass you. 

But the chance passed when his countenance morphed into counterfeit concern, tapping his chin in contemplation for added effect, “although, I think the library’s computer system is down… I guess you gotta find them the old-fashioned way.” God, you just wanted to smack that smug grin right off his face. “I’d love to help you with that... but I’m just too busy…” It should’ve been illegal for intolerable people to be that gorgeous.

You blinked in complete confusion. “Ummm… excuse me?” 

“I’m… sorry… do… I… need… to … talk… slower…?”

You gingerly picked up the piece of paper, promptly getting up from your chair, glaring at him. You made sure your backpack was secure on your shoulder before dramatically lifting the note in front of his face to tear what he wrote to shreds, scattering the bits over his laptop’s keyboard. “Stick a motherfucking cactus up your ass.” 

You stormed out of that hall with your head high, not daring to look back despite your innate desire to see his response - you were sure it was priceless. 

‘I’ll just have to do this damn thing on my own.’

Oh, if it could only be that simple. 

The first thing that popped up on your laptop when you opened it from the safety of the library was an unexpected email. 

Since you ripped up my list - rather rudely I might add - I’ve attached the list of the books I require. I will be at the library at four PM sharp. Please plan accordingly. Hyunjin 

“Fuck.” 

‘Plan accordingly,’ your ass, according to you, your plan was to minimize the amount of time you had to spend dealing with Hyunjin, and you had been 100% sure he had the same sentiment… so much for that. 

Speaking of the devil, as soon as you decided to dismiss his outlandish request and settle in to get some of your research started, Hyunjin yanked your attention away from your laptop with merely his presence, almost as if your nerves were hypersensitive to his saccharine dipped aura, and most definitely not to the signature sway of his frame as he walked. 

You didn’t dare grant him the luxury of your direct gaze. Instead, you kept a close eye on him in your peripheral, hoping you’d blend in with the people around you… but there was still at least a 92% chance he’d see you.

“Did you get my sources?” and now he was right in front of you, nothing but a measly table in between. 

Your nostrils flared in an effort to not retort back at Hyunjin, eyes still fixed on your screen in a successful attempt to ignore him. 

Then he pushed your laptop closed, hand planted firmly on the device rather invasively. “Excuse me, I’m talking to you.”

You gritted your teeth, tilting your head up in a menacing stare, eyes narrowing, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you want?” 

God, you didn’t know his smile could get more fake than it already was. “I told you to get my sources for me,” his tone was exaggeratedly slow, “did you get my sources?” 

You shoved his hand away from your laptop. “Get your own sources.” 

Immediately his fake smile turned into a sincere snicker, rolling his eyes off to the side. “Uptight bitch.” 

His words sank in for a moment. “You wanna say that again?” 

He leaned over the table, face a mere six inches from yours. “Uptight,” you could feel your fists involuntarily clenching, digging into your palms what would soon be prominent crescents in a matter of seconds, “bitch.” 

You almost raised your palm to gratuitously slap him across the face but the simmering mellowness in you kept a tight grasp of your boiling anger. You leaned back in your seat in an effort to widen the physical gap (or the lack thereof) between you. “Fuck off.”

<><><><><><> 

“Hyunjin, y/n, can you both come down to the podium,” Dr. Zhang added at the end of his lecture, halting your plans to b-line straight to the library. 

As the aisles began to empty, you made your way down the steps to the front of the room, purposefully standing at the side opposite of Hyunjin, frankly paying no mind to him for all intents and purposes. 

Your professor glanced between you two, clearly noticing the oddity of the image but purposefully choosing to ignore it. 

“I noticed that both of you submitted first drafts for your paper, and at first I thought it was an accident, until I opened both files and realized you’re writing completely separate papers. Care to explain?” 

“Yeah y/n, care to explain?” What a fucking dicktard. 

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you wracked your brain for some feasible excuse. “Well,” but nothing came to mind… oh fuck it, “we’ve had issues working with each other.” 

Dr. Zhang raised an eyebrow cautiously. “Elaborate.”

“We really don’t get along.”

He sighed, crossing his arms. “Well you’re gonna have to try to find some middle ground. I’ll give you two a second chance to put a first draft together. If you can submit a collaborative piece by midnight, I’ll still give you full credit for that part. If not, it stays as a zero. Subsequently, you will keep getting zeroes for the following checkpoints if you submit them separately. Any questions?” 

“No, sir,” much to your surprise, that was the first moment thus far wherein both you and Hyunjin were on the same wavelength. 

“Good, that is all.” 

You felt like two negatively charged magnets as you walked side by side up the aisle to the exit. “I’m not getting a zero for this,” Hyunjin spoke up. 

You rolled your eyes. “At least we can agree on that.”

As the cold, crisp air of the outside refreshed your nerves, he lightly gripped your shoulder, swerving you to face him. “Look, I know we’re like oil and water, but I’m willing to at least try to get along for the grade.” His fingers trembled on your shoulder; his teeth lightly grazed his bottom lip, eyes searching yours for a sign of truce. 

Needless to say, the sentiment from him was unexpected. You exhaled deeply, brushing his hand from you. “Fine.”

<><><><><><><> 

But two hours spent alone in a library study room proved to be more difficult than originally anticipated. Trying to work together felt like pulling teeth - a true collaboration of absolute vexation.  

“What about this passage?” You pointed to some text in a book you were sifting through. 

He swiveled his chair around, only looking at your find for a solid half a second before, turning back around. “Nah, that’s not good enough to use as evidence.” 

“What the fuck, Hyunjin? You didn’t even read it.”

“I didn’t have to. I assumed whatever you found was as subpar as everything else you’ve ‘found.’”

You dropped the book on the table with a loud plonk, partially in shock at what he said and partially due to a natural tendency to want to irritate him. “Well let’s see what you ‘found,’” leaning over the table in a relaxed manner, carrying a dash of nonchalance as you scrolled through his writing. “You call this good evidence?”

“What on earth are you talking about?” You wanted to laugh at his defensive tone. 

“It’s obvious that you’re framing your own narrative by taking shit outta context. Not to mention all the ellipses and brackets are terrifically horrendous, visually. You’re taking literally all the credibility out.” 

“What do you know? I doubt you even read that article,” he dismissed your legitimate critique in a manner you unfortunately predicted. 

“As a matter of fact, I did… two. hours. ago. And you told me the article didn’t seem ‘reliable’ enough for you, but here you are… you must think I’m fucking stupid.” 

The side of his lips curved up in the slightest smirk. “Not true, I think you’re annoyingly absentminded.” 

You rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time in the past minute, whispering, “fucking cockmaggot,” under your breath, diverting your attention back to your screen. 

“What did you just say?” His tone suggested he wasn’t being rhetorical - he really didn’t hear you. There was something cute and innocent about his ignorance, the way his lips formed a subtle pout unintentionally, nose wrinkling in distaste. You mentally shook the image from your head, cursing yourself for thinking he was… ‘cute’ to begin with. 

“Nothing, My Liege, nothing at all,” mocking sarcasm spilled from your lips as you parted them to give them a disapproving smack. “This is complete shit; we can’t submit this.”

Hyunjin slammed his laptop closed, standing up abruptly. The action took you by surprise, making your neck shudder in a startle. “I can’t fucking do this anymore. Why do you have to be so fucking difficult?” Pent up rage was slathered all over his face, eyes twitching, eyebrows tightly knitting together, jaw unhinging from an excess of epinephrine. 

His anger diffused to you, violently charging your nerves. There was no way you were just gonna take his shit sitting down. “Why do you,” you stood up, chair rocking back from the velocity of your limbs, “have to be,” you turned around and gripped his collar with both hands, “such an insufferable asshole?” 

He was dumbfounded, wordless much to your satisfaction, but his eyes were unwavering, devoid of reaction. The time you spent stabbing each other with your unfaltering gazes felt like a goddamn eternity, tension coarse, sinfully tangible on your skin. 

It was fucking stifling. 

Before you even realized what was happening, your lips were latched together in a fervent frenzy, tension thickening for an entirely different reason now. 

There was something so breathtaking about the way his lips tightened against yours - literally. It felt like he was siphoning your soul from your body - any thought that dared to grace your mind oddly dissolved into nothingness as Hyunjin molded your lips into submission, tongue colonizing your oral cavity in an authoritative manner that was so in character for him. 

Not that you gave a fuck. 

His hands aggressively tugged at your waist; the impact of your body crashing onto his sent pangs up your spine, and in seconds, your back thudded against the wall, maintaining the momentum. You had to grip his shoulders purely for support, and definitely not because you were immersing in the moment.

You felt his grip loosen as his hands roamed downward, playfully drawing patterns on your skin with his fingers en route. And then they constricted around your thighs, lifting them up to his hips, and you hooked your ankles around his back as if it was the natural thing to do. 

The fabric of his pants became taut around the building frustration underneath, becoming oh so apparent to you when he started steady grinding against the thin fabric of your underwear - why did you have to wear a skirt today of all days?

You passed a reluctant whimper through his lips, wholly unable to deny the way your pulsing desire radiated heat through your core at the increasing friction. 

You broke away from the kiss, gasping. “Hyunjin…” you whispered almost breathlessly, desperation filling you as he continued his tantalizing test of your patience. 

“Hmmm?” There it was: that signature smug grin, but by this point, your senses were too preoccupied to even register it. 

“I can’t take this anymore.”

“Is that so?” He lifted you off the wall, pushing your laptops to either side so he could lay you on the table, spreading your legs to give him clear sight of your dampening sex. He snickered. “You look much better like this…” While ghosting one hand around your inner thighs, conveniently avoiding the place you needed him the most, he undid the button and zipper of his jeans with the other, sliding them down to his knees. 

You found yourself licking your lips at the silhouette of his bulge, now more prominent with less restricting fabric. Of course, he noticed; “so these are you true colors… I never would’ve thought you were such a dirty girl.” He brushed his fingers over the waistband of your underwear. “Where do you need me?” He pressed his thumb on your clit, “here?” 

Your teeth pressed down on your lips in an effort to stifle a moan. “Yes…” and even though you were successful the first time, there was no stopping the sounds from seeping through your lips when Hyunjin slammed his clothed erection on you once more, picking up exactly where he left off just moments ago. 

“Please, Hyunjin…” he pushed your thighs further apart, keeping them in place. 

“‘Please,’ what?” 

“I need you inside me, please.” 

His sinister laugh filled the small room. “I don’t know if you deserve it.” 

“Fucking asswipe.” 

“Now that doesn’t sound very convincing…” 

You groaned in pleasurable displeasure. “Hyunjin… please, I’m begging you. I really can’t take this.” 

“Don’t you care if someone tries to come in?” He raised an eyebrow, partially in curiosity, mostly in amusement. 

You glared right into his eyes. “No.” 

He shook his head, clicking his tongue as he stood back. “Get up.” Any urge you had to defy him before was long gone; you did as he asked and he harshly turned you around by your waist, pushing you toward one of the windows. 

While pushing you down against the glass with one hand, he reached in his front pocket with the other, grabbing a condom. He ripped the packaging with his teeth, skillfully sliding his boxers down to slip the vinyl over him. 

Not wanting to wait any longer, you aided him by pulling your panty down leaving yourself completely exposed for his taking, and you quickly pushed your hands on the glass, bracing yourself for the next few seconds, but nothing could’ve prepared you for that stretch that came. Your wrist slid down on the window pane to bite back a scream. 

“So tight.” 

 ><><><><><><><

A/N I’mma be honest: I had a fucking field day coming up with all those weird insults

[devilsodas]

night hawks iii

words: 2.1k

pairing: Hayakawa Aki x reader, Denji & reader

Also on: ao3

a/n: very, very, light spoilers for the bomb girl arc, if you haven't read it you probably wouldn’t even notice so it’s fine lol. anyways, I originally didn’t plan to do this for this chapter, (it was actually supposed to be just pure angst) but I thought this would be nice before I stomped on ur heart! next update might be  for a while since school is coming to a close soon!

part ii | part iv

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you wonder if there is something in the town that the country can’t offer.

You don’t want to think too hard on that, either.

ii. blue shift

You’re perusing through the snack aisle, debating which awfully sugary and salty potato chip you’d force Aki to buy this time, when Denji ambles towards you.

“Town mouse or country mouse.”

You grab a boldly colored bag of chips--‘taste better with each bite!’ in a fluorescent lemon --and shake it twice. Too light for your liking, you grabbed two more. “What are you talking about?”

“D’you think the town mouse or country mouse is better?” Denji questions, studying your movements before shuffling the items in his palms into the basket hanging off your elbow. He looks at the row of chips, grabs two random bags, and shoves them in as well.

Brows scrunched in confusion, you halt in your movements. “Mmm..is that a new fad from some teen magazine? I never heard of that before.”

“Nah, it’s this guy named Asshop? Acehop? I dunno.” The syllables slur together when he says it, rushed, and you can hardly decipher the words. “But there’s these mice, one’s from the country, the other the town.”

“The country mouse is safe and all, but it has zero fun or good grub. The town mouse gets all the fun and grub, but it's always getting into trouble.”

“And you have to pick between the two?” You confirm. Denji nods, hands shoved in his pockets.

You tilt your head, “Lemme guess, you picked the town mouse?”

He grins. “Who wouldn’t want good food?”

Chuckling, You fight the urge to ruffle his blonde strands. From what Aki’s told you, Denji’s virtually been close to homeless for the past sixteen years of his life. No family but a dog he refers to from time to time.

Sometimes, when you’d come over for dinner, you’d see the way he eats; scarfing down every grain of rice and almost licking the plate clean, a man eating his last meal, that your whole body would ache, starting from your chest and spreading all over.

Everyone should have that at his age, right? Loving parents, no worries if you’ll have warm food on the table or a roof over your head ( but did you even have that? If you didn’t would you even know? How could you feel pity for the youth if you don’t know what youth looks like? )

You try not to think about it too often.

The options milled about in your head, like marbles in the palm of your hand.

“Being safe sounds great and all, but I’ve never been to the countryside before, so..” Denji nabs another bag and shows you for approval. Wasabi and Beef. You give a disgruntled face and he tosses it back with a huff.

“So the town mouse then?”

“I’d say yes, but that’d be a little biased. I’ve never been outside Tokyo.”

A groan sounds from behind you and, across the aisle, is Aki juggling ten different types of meat in his arms, his face matching the red of the marbled pork. Power is right behind him, shoving an unnecessarily large slab of wagyu beef into the cart with maniacal laughter.

( I’m saying this for the last. damn. time.-)

You should probably intervene before he grows homicidal.

“Why are you interested in this anyway?” You ask. Denji huffs, fidgeting with a red bag of shrimp chips (now with garlic and butter!) and haphazardly tosses it into the basket.

“There’s this girl,” He starts.

“Oooh, a girl..”You drawl.

He sputters.“I don’t like her or anything!”

Grinning, you bite your lip to hold back a laugh, “Never said you did.” You think he looks a little irritated, with his cheeks flushed a deep rose and a scowl framing his face, but the same mischievous smile stays on his lips.

“Anyways, she was the one who told me about it, I was wonderin’ what you would’ve said. We’re supposed to go to a festival tomorrow night.” He states lightly.

“Ah, if they have it, you should eat some takoyaki while you’re there. That always tastes the best from a festival stall.” You beam. “Be sure to have fun! Oh--and tell me about it once you get back.” For any devil hunter, it’s difficult to hold connections to those outside the business. You wonder how it must feel for Denji, sixteen and not knowing a single person his age who’s, well,

Normal.

The only times he goes out is for work or rare days like these when Aki (foolishly) thinks they’ll behave at the supermarket. Does Denji even know what’s normal for someone like him? Do you?

He gives you a thumbs up.

( in the corner of your eyes, you spot Power with at least fifty different types of cat food in her arms, marching to an oblivious Aki with a tyrannical smile on her lips.

it’s probably time to leave anyways..)

You sift through the basket hanging on your arm, double checking the junk food will last until the next time you decide to mooch off Aki’s credit card. A variety of bagged chips with different mascots thrown across the bags, pints of icecream and mochi, and at the very bottom, a magazine with...two naked women on the front. You snatch the offending book with a gasp, thrusting it into the blonde’s face.

“No way, you know for a fact he’s not gonna buy this. And if you hand him this at the counter, Aki will punch the crap out of you.”

Denji grabs both the basket and the magazine, rolling the book before slotting it under his arm. “ Not if you but it.”

“I’m not buying that.”

“Then I’ll just sneak it in.” He waves off. At the sound of shouting, you both run to deescalate whatever nonsense Power got herself into this time. The magazine and Aesop forgotten.

( Aki does notice the porno mag and he does hit Denji over the head with it...but he buys it anyway.)

-

“Town mouse or country mouse?”

He scowls at you through the mirror, muttering. “God, not you too.”

You swing your legs from where you reside on the kitchen counter, tapping your nails against the marble, anything to ease the nervous energy that makes your hand shake. Nyanko is slinking through your legs like a maze, begging for your pets every so often. You bring the cat into your arms, scratching the spot right behind her ears and she purrs, bingo. You raise a brow. “Did Denji already ask you?”

He doesn’t answer for a few moments, busy as he loops his tie and knots it. Aki takes a moment to scrutinize its placement, then turns to face you. “Angel Devil.” He states, he says the name like it’s poison on his tongue.

“Oh yeah, how’s that working out for you?”

“He’s a hindrance.”

You stroll over to him until you’re both chest to chest and he stills. This close, you can feel his exhales drift the hairs at the top of your head and discern the specks of jade that’s always consumed by his seas of deep blue. He notices your stare, and swallows.

You take the tie into your hands and tilt it a little to the left. “You think everyone is a hindrance when you meet them. I’m pretty sure you loathed me at first, but now look! I get to babysit your cat!” Nyanko meows on cue and you turn back to him with a wide grin.

Aki stares for a moment, taking in the both of you before groaning into his palms and striding into his room.

“That’s not my cat.” He calls out.

“You still haven’t answered my question!”

He groans again.

“Why do you need to leave so suddenly anyways, it’s Friday night, we should be done for the week.”

“Nomo called for me!” He shouts. The name doesn’t ring a bell.

“Great, now answer my question.”

He trails back into the hallway, coat in hand. Nyanko follows his footsteps, meowing after him.

Not his cat, huh?

“What’d you say?”

You roll your eyes, exasperated, “I said: answer my question!”

“No-- to Denji.”

Oh. You shrug, “I didn’t give him an answer. I’ve only seen the city, so I don’t think I could’ve given an accurate reply.” You say nonchalantly.

“It’s not really about where you’ve been--it mostly deals with preference.” Aki hums and shrugs on his coat.

“Yeah, but,” You finger at the stray hem of your sweatshirt, skittish, “well, I don’t know much from before I was like, what? Fifteen, sixteen? Even then things are kind of fuzzy..”

The hand he had on the doorknob stills, and Aki gapes at you, silent. You don’t know if you should continue your thought, unsure if this is information you want to give away to him, but his silence eggs you on. “ But I wouldn’t really know what I would prefer, since I don’t know alot about..me. Maybe I hated the city, but I’m still here--Or I hated the countryside which is why I live in Tokyo, but I’ll never truly know the original intent..I’m just here. Who’s to say the things I do now are things I would’ve done before I forgot everything”

The words come out muddled and jumbled together, and with the way he’s staring, you wish you could shove them all back into your mouth, never to come out again. You know that he knows that you worry about this from time to time, but the thought of being this vulnerable to anyone, even the person you know better than yourself, shakes you differently than any devil ever has. You wonder if you’re acting selfishly, to bare this out to him, because it always looks like it hurts Aki more than it hurts you.

You don’t like to think too hard on that either.

“That’s why I wanted to ask you,” you rush out. “I thought you’d have a better idea..”

Aki abandons the door altogether, standing before you in the kitchen. His eyes are glassy but the rest of his face is set in stone, unsure. “Does that even matter?”

You frown.“What?”

“I mean, if you enjoy yourself here, isn’t that good enough? Does it really matter what you thought , or who you were, five, ten, years ago? I like who you are now, I’m not that worried about who you might have been before.” He says, voice just above a whisper.

You blink, mind blank. You can feel the blood rush in your ears, roaring, as he searches your face.

I like who you are now

You think you should say something back, something just as momentous to ease the furrow in his brow, the same heat to your neck,but all that comes out is a measly, “Oh.”

Aki looks into you with the same eyes he had back at the diner and all at once you’re unsure of where he’s going with this. What you should do. What lines to cross. Your fingers flinch at your side. In the corner of your vision, his fingers do the same.

But then he blinks and it’s gone. You don’t know if you should sigh out of relief or disappointment.

You pointedly decide to hold your breath.

“And for the record,” He starts, hand on the door, “I chose the town mouse.”

The door clicks just as silently as it was opened.

Nyanko meows out to you, pawing just below the cabinet that holds her dinner and you breathe out a sigh.

“What would you prefer to eat, town mouse or country mouse?”

She hisses.

You should probably feed her before Power accuses you of animal abuse.

-

Later into the night, with the cat now fed and sleeping, you’re perusing the bookshelf when a small children’s book stands out to you.

The rest on the shelf are novels of varying lengths, so it sticks out like a sore thumb and, out of curiosity, you grab it.

The binding that holds it together is frayed and aged, the fabric of the book singed and faded. The cover is almost completely black, with the exception of a smiling rat on the corner.It’s a miracle it’s even in one piece.

You flip through it, an array of colors flickering on each page until it lands on the last one. It’s covered in blue crayon in a child’s chicken scratch, but at the very top of the page it reads:

‘Which mouse has it better?’

Town: Me, Dad

Country: Mom, Aki

‘And for the record, I chose the town mouse.’

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you wonder if there is something in the town that the country can’t offer.

You don’t want to think too hard on that, either.

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 2

insomniac

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.  

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: insomnia, nightmares, (remembering) death, panic attack, cuddling, fluff

AN: Here she is!! I’ve decided to give oc a little ~tragic backstory~ and I really hope it comes across like I’ve intended. I wouldn’t go so far as to call in angst, necessarily, but there’ll definitely be some in the future. Also, I know I’ve painted Annie and Reiner in a really bad light so far in this particular fic, but please know that’s not how I view them in canon at all - it’s simply because someone had to be the bad guy:( Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy and as always don’t hesitate to reach out via reblog/ask with any suggestions/feedback/questions!! ~valkyrie

(read Part 1.5 here)

Bodies jostle against you in the darkness to the beat of music you can’t hear.  The buzzing gets louder, drowning out even your own screams for them to stop.

Stop. Stop. STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!

“STOP IT!” You can hear yourself this time, your voice embarrassingly loud in the cramped room. You slap hands over your mouth but everyone’s already turned to look at you, disgusted at the display of emotion. Even they peel their faces apart to sneer down their noses.

“Why should we?” Annie’s voice rings with superiority, swirling around the space and nestling in the crook of your neck. You shudder away, but the faceless bodies shove you back.

“Don’t you know this is your fault, anyway? You weren’t enough for me.” Reiner jeers with a satisfied smirk. The whole room laughs, cackling and giggling spitefully. You can’t move, muscles frozen, as they turn back to each other and continue making out. His hand in her hair, her thigh hooked over his hip, obscenely wet noises from their joined mouths.

You scream and scream and scream, jaw wide and aching, and all of a sudden the scene shifts and you’re at your mother’s bedside. Your breath hitches and you’re screaming in a child’s voice this time.

“Mommy, Mommy, no, please, no, MOMMY, PLEASE--”

Your hand twitches towards her and its movement against soft sheets brings you back to consciousness.

You’re spread-eagled in bed, comforter kicked almost completely off, chest heaving.

“One. Two. Three. Four…” you count in a hoarse whisper to yourself, staring out the window at gently falling snow illuminated in yellow streetlights. It takes you to one hundred and twenty-seven before you’re calm enough to do anything productive. 

You reach out a blind hand to find your phone on the nightstand and raise it up to check the time. 4:47 am. Nearly three hours of sleep.

Eh, good enough for jazz.

You heave a sigh, then push up to sit on the edge of your bed and flick on the lamp. The sudden bright light makes you squint against sharp pain behind your eyes and turn away in search of a sweatshirt. Some sifting through the ever-growing pile of laundry later, you settle on a green university hoodie and pull it on over your ratty tank top. Your toes and fingers always feel like icicles after waking up from a nightmare, so you find faux fur-lined slippers as well.

As you push past your bedroom door and into the living room, a figure in the comfy armchair catches the corner of your eye.

You nearly jump out of your skin before recognizing who it is. “Christ on a cracker, Levi! Nearly scared me half to death.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry as he marks the page in his book and sets it on the coffee table.

“What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“Well that’s not ominous or anything,” you mutter with an eye roll as you cross to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil for coffee.

Levi sighs and pinches the bridge of his elegant nose.

“Sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just… I noticed you haven’t been sleeping much lately and I’m worried.” He crosses to sit at the kitchen table and speaks to your back as you shuffle around the kitchen.

“What do you mean? Of course I’ve been sleeping. Whaddaya think I was just doing?”

“It’s five am, and you were still up when I went to sleep at twelve. Optimistically, that’s four hours of sleep. And yesterday you went to bed after one, but Hange said you were texting her at five-thirty, and--”

“Jeez, what, have you been stalking me or something?” you ask with an incredulous glance over your shoulder.

“We live together. It’s kind of hard not to notice.” Levi’s tone is the usual dry you’ve come to expect, but there’s an undercurrent that you’re too exhausted to pinpoint. “And Hange also told me she’s been worried.”

“What is this, an intervention? Just because I break up with someone I’m suddenly incapable of functioning?” Your voice (and headache) rises with each phrase, cracking on the morning dryness in the air, and you spin to face him.

“I didn’t say that, I--”

“Am I just supposed to wallow in misery for the rest of my life? No. I’m not doing that, Levi, I’m moving on. I-- I’m a busy woman, I’ve got finals and, and internship applications, and I happen to enjoy waking up early. I like watching the sunrise.” Though your words are rushed and you’re gesturing animatedly, uncertainty seeps through the stuttered phrases in your argument.

Levi lets you finish, then returns in a measured voice: “Why are you so defensive about this? I know you’re busy. So am I. But I manage to get more than four hours of sleep at night. I just want to help.”

His statement hangs in the air like dust mites, swirling around you and clinging to the sticky after-effects of the nightmare in your mind. You frown and drop your eyes to the linoleum, guilt settling into the stickiness.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Your voice is much softer. “I just--” A deep sigh. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

The simple question makes your breath stutter and you scrub a hand down your face in an effort to ground your skin into reality.

“It’s so stupid.” It’s practically a whisper. “I have these nightmares. About my mom. I got them when I was younger, too, but eventually they just sort of… stopped. But now they’re back. And I can’t ever get back to sleep after, so I just stopped bothering to try.”

“You know, sometimes I get nightmares, too.”

The admission catches you off guard, your eyes widening. Levi always seems so… steady and sure, you wouldn’t have expected it.

“Really?”

He nods. “About my mom and the foster homes.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you…” Your heart sinks, and you don’t know how to say you’re sorry for the heartbreak he must’ve lived through with any semblance of tact.

“Yeah. It’s not something I talk about much.”

“Right.” You pause and chew on your tongue thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you have...strategies for when you can’t sleep because of them?”

“I have sleeping pills from my psychiatrist and some meditation practices that work for me. I can send you some resources, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I’d really appreciate that if it’s not a bother.” You feel kind of sheepish now, for raising your voice, and so try to sound extra thankful for his help.

“It’s not.” He stands up and stretches both arms over his head, tipping his face up to the sky, lean body arching and twisting with the effort of it.  “I’ll send them to you later today. I’m gonna go back to bed.”

“Okay. Thank you, Levi.”

He nods and yawns, nose scrunching adorably. “Night, kid.”

“Good night.”

As his bedroom door clicks shut, you sigh yet again and turn off the stove. The first thing to avoid is probably coffee.

--

Your fingers flick off last rivulets of water as you step out of the shower. A shiver rattles its way up your spine before you can grab a towel to dry off. Bless Levi, he had done laundry today and the towel is still dryer-warm, smelling of his favorite fabric softener.

As you go through your evening routine (tooth brushing, face washing, hair drying), you can feel a quiet tension set into your shoulders despite the humidity of the bathroom.

The day had gone okay. You managed to resist coffee until 8 am and cut yourself off at 3. A lecture and a studio in the morning left the afternoon for library studying and a trip to the grocery store. 

You had actually seen Bertholdt there, in the cereal aisle. You hadn’t been too keen on having that particular conversation, but luckily he hadn’t seemed to be either. The pair of you exchanged sympathetically awkward smiles before turning back to the Cheerios. 

The evening consisted of ordering chinese takeout while obsessing over your latest architecture design project, followed by convincing Hange over the phone not to sleep in the mouse lab for extra credit.

“But Bean will be lonely!” she insisted hysterically. “And Sonny wasn’t looking too hot in lab today, what if he needs his mommy and I’m not there?”

“You’re not their mommy,” you reminded her. “They have each other to keep them company, and if Sonny dies, won’t it support your hypothesis anyway?”

She had eventually acquiesced when you promised to help her plan a memorial should they pass in the night.

So now here you are, skin slowly drying, as you psych yourself up in the mirror to go to sleep.

“It won’t be bad. Just use the meditations Levi sent you.” You try to inject confidence into your voice, but you only end up grimacing at yourself in the mirror. “Ah, fuck it.”

You tuck your towel in firmly around your chest and double check to see your things are put away before going back to your room.

As you pass, you hesitate by Levi’s door for a moment. His normal studying music, Chopin, is on and light creeps out from underneath. Another moment of uncertainty, then you gently knock and poke your head in.

“Levi?” He raises his head from where he’s hunched over an easel, paint brush in hand. Brow furrowed and body tensed like a strung bow, he doesn’t look happy to be interrupted.

Fuck.

“I, uhm, just wanted to say good night.”

He grunts and turns back to the painting.

You take that as your cue to leave.

Back in the sanctuary of your own room, you curse again and kick your desk chair, sending it rolling a couple inches.

Why had you bothered him? To say good night?

“Stupid, stupid, UGH.” Your dramatic outburst ends in flopping face-first into bed. Just because he felt concerned enough to stage a fucking intervention doesn’t mean he’s your fucking nanny. Idiot.

Eventually, you roll over and get up to change into pajamas. 

Settling into bed, you open your newly downloaded meditation app and start an audio.

“As you prepare for your meditation practice today, find a comfortable position sitting or lying down where you can fully relax….”

The cool female voice wraps your mind in a hazy blanket of fog and eventually coaxes your body into an achingly needed sleep.

--

This time the dream wakes you up whimpering into your pillow, arms flung above your head as though you’re skydiving. With a sucking breath, you lift your head to prevent imminent suffocation and instead settle on your side, staring unblinkingly into the darkness. Breath ragged in your chest, your mind can’t seem to move past the last image of your nightmare.

It’s burned into your retinas when you close your eyes and etched onto the moonlight-pale wall when they’re open: your mom’s pallid face staring up at the ceiling, hands resting on top of  her blue embroidered duvet cover, chest still.

A sob escapes your unwilling throat and you’re scrambling to sit up and reach for the lamp. The lamplight suddenly reminds you of your own existence in the physical plane, thrusting all your senses into sharp contrast.

Her greying, thinning hair, the frailty in her fingers, the cracks in her lips, the cloying scent of death.

“Nonononononononono,” you moan, hunched over your knees, fingers tangled in your hair. Your stomach is hollow, chest tight, tears now flowing in earnest. It hasn’t been this bad in a long time, not since 7th grade at least.

Do something, do something, you stupid bitch, your mind is yelling at you, and so you force your body to move. Somewhere, anywhere other than here.

You practically fall out of bed and then lean heavily on your desk to compensate for shaking knees as you move to the door. Feet shuffle in the darkness and all of a sudden you’re sniffling outside Levi’s door, fingers in a deathgrip on your shirt. One, two breaths and you knock three hesitant raps.

Fuck. Shit. Instant regret bubbles up in your throat and you pivot away. Before you can get far, the door opens and you hear Levi’s sleep-ragged voice utter your name like a question. Damn.

You turn back sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve woken you up. Go back to bed.” Your voice is unnaturally breathy as Levi tries to make you out in the dim light of the moon filtering in through the living room window. 

He reaches for your shoulder to gently pull you out of the shadows, and realization crosses his face as he registers the tear tracks and haunting terror in your eyes.

“It happened again,” he states.

You nod hesitantly and wipe at your cheeks with the back of one hand. You try again to tell him that no, really, you’re fine and he should go back to bed, but the words get lost in the tangle of truths between your brain and mouth.

Instead, what comes out is: “Can… can I sleep with you?” Your eyes finally flick to his before you quickly follow up. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just- it helps to have someone close….”

Levi watches you for a moment before sliding his hand from your shoulder to your hand and tugging gently.

“Come on.”

You follow him inside and fidget awkwardly at the side of his bed as he climbs in. His room is impeccably neat, not that you would expect anything different from the man who once gave you a five minute lecture about leaving dishes in the sink to soak. It was the most words you’d heard him string together at the time, and he only stopped when he realized you were laughing.

“You sound like my Great Aunt Cheryl,” you said between hiccups of mirth. “Insufferable woman.”

He had looked at you scathingly, then made you promise never to leave the dishes for later again on pain of changing the wifi password.

Once he’s settled, Levi turns back the covers on your side and looks at you expectantly. You falter a split second before climbing in next to him, the familiar smell of his laundry detergent clouding around you as you fall back into soft pillows. He throws the comforter over you, then settles down and opens his arms.

“C’mere, kid,” he says with a tenderness that makes a sniffle catch in the back of your throat.

You roll into his arms, resting your head in the curve of his shoulder and breathe the first easy breath since you woke up. An arm flung around his middle means your whole body is against his, warming you up like a midafternoon nap in August.

Levi settles his arm around your back after tucking in the blankets and holds you like you’ve always belonged there. He gradually, gradually feels you relax into him as your breathing begins to match his own.

After a while, your eyes droop closed and Levi allows himself the indulgence of tucking his nose into your hair. A bouquet of lavender shampoo and you accompanies him softly into his dreams.

--

(read part 3 here)

[roseworth]

Aligned

word count: 2001

description: Rapunzel is pregnant, and Nigel thinks that she needs to give her child an arranged marriage. She and Eugene strongly disagree.

Nigel had been droning on about customs regarding the newest addition to the Royal Family for almost an hour now, and Eugene felt like he was about to fall asleep. Their baby still had at least 6 months until she was even born, yet apparently, they still had so much to figure out.

“Captain, are you even listening?” Nigel asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, royal customs, baby things,” he said, bored out of his mind.

“What he means to say,” Rapunzel cut in before Nigel could answer, “is that we have months before the baby is due, couldn’t we spread this planning over time?”

“We are spreading it over time, Your Majesty. This child will be the heir to the throne, there are lots of preparations to make before she’s born.”

Eugene held back a groan as Nigel pulled out a long scroll. “We can finish for today once you make a decision on who to promise the child to.”

“‘Promise?’” Rapunzel repeated. “What does that mean?”

“It means to give her an arranged marriage.”

“That’s dumb as hell,” Eugene said.

“Eugene!” Rapunzel scolded, though she didn’t disagree with him.

“Sorry. Respectfully, that’s dumb as hell, Sir.”

“It’s tradition! Future Kings and Queens should be promised to other royalty,” Nigel said tritely.

“I don’t want to do that to our child! What if I had been promised to someone, then where would we be now?” Rapunzel argued.

Nigel frowned. “Your Majesty, you were promised to someone.”

“What?” Eugene and Rapunzel said at the same time.

Nigel nodded. “As I said, it is all future rulers. Your marriage just fell through when you were… ahem, taken.”

“So what happened to who she was promised to?” Eugene asked.

“I assume he was given a new Princess,” Nigel shrugged.

Eugene frowned at the idea that Princesses were something you could just give away. It made them sound like some kind of cattle rather than human people. That didn’t sit right with him, especially concerning his wife and future daughter.

“Well, I appreciate the concern, Nigel, but we won’t be ‘promising’ our daughter to anyone,” Eugene declared, crossing his arms.

“But you have to! It’s tradition.”

“There’s no law stating it,” Rapunzel pointed out. “If it’s just ‘tradition,’ I think we’re gonna pass.”

Nigel tightened his grip on the scroll. “Your Majesty, I would strongly urge you to comply with the traditions of the Kingdom. There’s no use changing it if it’s worked well enough so far.”

“But it hasn’t! We wouldn’t even have this baby if I had been forced to marry someone else,” she said.

Nigel sighed. “We’ll come back to this issue at another time,” he said as he exited the room. Rapunzel turned to her husband.

“I’m not promising this child to anyone.”

“I agree with you, Sunshine. And I’m sure we can get Nigel on our side eventually, or at least wear him down ‘til he gives up.”

“Ugh, imagine if that marriage didn’t fall through. What if I had come home just to be told I had to marry someone else?”

“Honestly, sweetheart, I don’t think that could’ve happened, only because you would have raised hell the second they told you.”

“Hey, I just know what I want!” she defended.

“Well, I guess I’m just lucky enough to be what you want,” he said, kissing her cheek. “So who do you think you were promised to?”

She shrugged. “I guess it could be any of the princes or kings.”

“Like King Trevor!”

Her jaw dropped. “Trevor?”

Eugene had a cheeky grin on his face as he responded, “You never know! Maybe that’s why he never leaves us alone!”

“Or maybe it’s because you’ve broken into his castle twice,” she said. “Plus, we did technically crash Trevor Jr.’s wedding.”

“Blondie, that was a seal wedding. If anything, we made it more interesting.”

“Well, I doubt it’s Trevor. He was in love with my mom, remember?”

“All the more reason to try to marry you!”

Rapunzel smiled and rolled her eyes. “I guess it doesn’t matter who it is, since I’m clearly not going to marry them.”

“Come on, aren’t you at least a little curious?”

She sighed. “Yeah, I kind of am now,” she admitted. “I bet my parents would know, we should ask!”

So, at dinner later that day, they brought up the subject of the arranged marriage again. “Nigel thinks that we should promise our child to some random Prince, which I think is a little crazy,” Rapunzel recounted. “But he told me I was also promised to some random Prince.”

“The tradition of promising the future rulers is long-standing, but if you think breaking it is what is best for your family, by all means, break it,” Frederic said.

Arianna smiled. “I was pretty reluctant about arranging a marriage when I had you, I’m glad you’re standing up against it.”

“Do you know who my marriage was arranged with?” Rapunzel asked. Her mom thought for a moment, then shook her head.

“I believe we made the agreement long before you were born. After everything we went through with my pregnancy, I hardly remembered by the time I had you.”

“Was it Trevor?” Eugene asked jokingly. Arianna choked on the food in her mouth before laughing.

“Oh, dear, I hope not!”

Rapunzel giggled, placing a hand on her stomach. Looking at the way her family so easily cared for each other, she couldn’t help but feel excited about their new edition. Their daughter would be loved and cared for, no matter what happened. Rapunzel was ready to do everything she could to give her daughter a happy life, starting with making sure she wasn’t married off without a say in the matter. It was the least she could do.

Over the next few weeks, Nigel would occasionally bring up the matter of arranging a marriage, only to be immediately shot down every time. No one was surprised by his insistence in the matter, though. He was always concerned with upholding the traditions of the kingdom, even if the traditions were outdated and, as Eugene so gracefully put it, dumb as hell.

They finally got a break from all the preparations when they went to visit the Dark Kingdom. Ever since Edmund had left to restore the kingdom, Rapunzel and Eugene did their best to visit at least once every other month to stay connected with him.

Edmund was elated to see them as always. He walked over to them with a grin on his face and wrapped his arm around Rapunzel’s shoulder. “It’s great to see you two! Or should I say, you three?”

She laughed, placing a hand on her stomach. This was the first visit to the Dark Kingdom since they found out about the pregnancy, but Eugene had told his dad everything in a letter. Needless to say, Edmund was beyond excited to be a grandfather.

“Yep, one more Der Sonne on the way!” she beamed.

The three of them exchanged pleasantries, with Eugene and Rapunzel talking about the pregnancy, and Edmund talking about all the progress he had made in restoring the kingdom.

Edmund gave them a quick tour of all the changes he had made, but in all honesty, they couldn’t tell the difference. They had only been to the Dark Kingdom once before the restoration, so they didn’t notice things like new carpeting in a random room on the edge of the castle. Nonetheless, they nodded along as they listened to his descriptions.

“Oh, you two must be tired from your travels! Come with me, we’ll sit for dinner!” he said, leading them to the dining room. “Plus she’s pregnant, she must be tired enough as it is!” he added to himself. He had gotten better at keeping his thoughts to himself, but he still slipped up sometimes. Rapunzel just giggled lightly, shooting Eugene an amused glance.

“So, have you two been swamped with planning for a royal baby?” Edmund asked.

Eugene snorted. “Definitely, I’m getting sick of all this work that comes with it.”

“It was the same way when your mother was pregnant with you. There was so much paperwork for just one child. And none of the paperwork even mattered after the kingdom fell!” he added exasperatedly.

Rapunzel’s eyes widened excitedly. “You had to do the paperwork for Eugene? Did you promise him to someone?” she asked. Edmund nodded, and a smile grew on Rapunzel’s face. “Who was it?”

“Seriously?” Eugene groaned.

“Hey, we don’t know mine, so I at least want to know yours!”

“Sorry, Rapunzel, I don’t know off the top of my head. I might still have the documents in storage, though,” Edmund answered.

After some convincing, Rapunzel dragged her husband to a storage room so they could sift through old Dark Kingdom documents to find his birth records. There were cabinets and boxes full of various documents, each one starting to rip or fade.

Eugene was quickly scanning papers for information, but Rapunzel was reading as in-depth as she could into each document. “It’s so cool! There’s so much to learn about the history and the culture of the Dark Kingdom in these documents!” she said.

“Wow,” he replied. “I can’t believe I married a nerd.”

Rapunzel giggled and nudged him lightly, going back to her dive through all the documents. About 20 minutes later, she was halfway through a record of the trades between the Dark Kingdom and Neserdnia when Eugene spoke up.

“Hey, I think I found them!” he announced.

“Oo, what does it say?”

His eyes flitted over the page, then a huge smile grew on his face as he looked back up at her. “Wow, Blondie, it looks like you have some competition.”

“What?”

“I mean, the girl I was promised to is a real catch, you might have to look out,” he said teasingly, handing her the documents. She raised an eyebrow as she took them, reading through the page. She couldn’t help but smile as well when she saw what was written on the page.

Prince Horace of the Dark Kingdom is to be married to the first born Princess of Corona.

“Look at that! I guess we were destined to be together after all!” she beamed.

“Or just a really lucky coincidence,” he responded.

“Come on, there was some kind of fate working on our side!”

“Let’s not give Max that much credit.”

“Fate or not, we still found each other after all,” she said, grabbing his hand. He smiled and kissed her forehead.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The two of them spent the rest of the night trying to come up with ways that their lives could have gone differently, but still finding each other every single time. They knew there were so many small coincidences that led to them meeting and falling in love, but even if all the moving parts weren’t there, they would still fall in love. That’s the thing about soulmates- they’ll always find their way to each other.

“The ruggedly handsome Flynn Rider would easily woo the beautiful and mysterious Princess Rapunzel!” Eugene laughed. Rapunzel scoffed.

“Maybe Princess Rapunzel would think Rider was an arrogant thief,” she teased lightly.

“Maybe, but then she would realize deep down, he’s just a rogue with a heart of gold,” he said.

She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. “Yeah, she would. And they would fall in love despite everything.”

“And live happily ever after.”

Maybe it wasn’t “fate” or “destiny” or “soulmates,” but no matter what, the universe was on their side. Or maybe it was all just luck. They’ll never really know for sure if any magical forces were at work to bring the two of them together.

In the end, it didn’t matter how they met. What mattered was that they loved each other more than anything, and they would make sure their child would feel that same love. That’s all the “destiny” they needed.

[tintinwrites]

golden rings | Modern Poe Dameron x GN!Reader

A/N: I named this Poe-posal in my Docs but I figured that’s not a good title for an actual fic. No tags because I don’t want to accidentally tag someone who doesn’t celebrate and/or like Christmas!

Rating: T

Warning: Naughty words. Like one sexual reference.

Word count: 1,452, apparently!!

Summary: You and Poe go to his father’s house for Christmas where he opens a very special gift.

GIF credit: ^

                                            ----------------------------

“Your dad goes all out for Christmas, huh?”

“He does it for the neighborhood kids...or that’s what he tells me.” Poe put the car in park and leaned forward with his arms on the steering wheel to admire his father’s house; there were multicolored lights strung up along the roof and Christmas-themed clings on the window and even some blow up characters and figures. “I think he does it for himself. Nothing says Christmas in Georgia like Frosty the Snowman.”

You laughed softly, eyeing the decorations with a smile then looking at the man beside you. “I think it’s cute.”

“I think you’re cute,” he murmured as he turned to look at you, leaning in for a quick kiss.

A quick kiss became another one that was longer and deeper, one of your hands moving up to gently squeeze his arm.

He dressed up a bit for his dad with a burgundy button up shirt and you enjoyed it immensely if the way you kept touching his arms and torso was any indication.

His eyes were a bit dreamy as he pulled away and looked down at your lips. “What are your rules on fucking in your boyfriend’s childhood bedroom?”

You hummed, running your hand up his arm and his shoulder until you reached up to cup his cheek. “I don’t want to traumatize your dad and I’m willing to assume said bedroom is still decorated in baseball memorabilia picked out by fifteen year old Poe.”

“Soccer memorabilia.” He pouted like you offended him before smiling and kissing you again, unbuckling his seatbelt and shoving open the car door so he could step out.

You shook your head at him as you followed him out of the car and around to the trunk to help him unload everything you’d packed.

He handed you a stack of neatly wrapped gifts then grabbed your suitcases, rolling them up the walkway to the front door. “Hey, Dad!”

The way he pounded on the door made you roll your eyes and glare at him, elbowing him gently in the side right as the door opened to show Kes Dameron smiling widely at you both.

He thankfully didn’t seem to notice your little attack on Poe as he pulled his son into his arms, laughing joyfully.

“My boy!” He pulled back and grabbed onto Poe’s face, squishing his cheeks a bit as he looked him over. “Look at you! You need to shave.”

“You’re one to talk, Santa Claus.” Poe tugged on his father’s beard.

“I look distinguished, you look scruffy.” Kes patted his cheek before he pulled away and looked at you with a smile, opening his arms wide.

“Hi, Kes.” You set the presents down and moved into his arms, laughing softly as he squeezed you tightly.

He wrapped an arm around you and turned to lead you into the house. “Poe can get those, come on.”

You heard Poe grumble at his forced volunteering, but he was smiling as he brought the suitcases and presents inside when you glanced back at him.

Kes walked you to the couch then disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with three beers and handing one to you as he sat down next to you.

“Is Poe still enjoying being a Yankee?” He asked, opening his beer and taking a sip of it.

“He asks like I betrayed him for the North in a war,” Poe grunted as he set the suitcases aside, making his way to the Christmas tree with the pile of presents.

“I think he likes it. He doesn’t like the snow, but honestly, who actually does?”

“You two could always move down here to Georgia if you think it’d suit you.”

Poe plopped down on the other side of his dad, taking his bottle of beer with a smile and a nod of thanks. “We have jobs, Dad.”

“There are jobs here! One of my friends is hiring right now.” Though Kes took a sip of beer rather than explaining further.

“Hiring what?” Poe stared at him knowingly until the older man laughed awkwardly.

“You’d make a cute maid.”

“—I don’t know how to argue with the truth like that.”

You laughed at them as you drank a bit more of your beer then stood up. “I’m gonna go put our things away?”

“Don’t worry about mine!” Poe said quickly. “That’s my job. My room’s first door on the right down that hallway.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, but moved to kiss him before you grabbed your suitcase and made your way to the bedroom.

Poe watched you the entire way with a bit of a dopey smile, which Kes regarded with a knowing look as he leaned back into the couch cushions.

“Am I too old now to realize when my son’s in love?” His question made Poe look at him after a moment, seeming sheepish.

“I don’t think you are, Dad. Can I talk to you about something?”

                                            ------------------------

Kes must’ve been really happy that you and Poe were visiting him; every time you looked over at him throughout dinner, he was looking at one of you or both of you with fondness in his eyes.

It was honestly starting to freak you out a little, so you suggested that you exchange gifts once you’d finished your meal.

“Now this is a stylish color!” Kes held up a blue sweater that you’d chosen for him.

“I think you’ll look very handsome.” You smiled, shoving the wrapping paper into a trash bag.

“You hear that, Poe? I think you have a little competition.”

“Gross, Dad.”

You laughed, walking over to kneel by the tree where you grabbed a little square present with Poe’s name written on it. “This one’s yours, babe.”

You reached back to let him take it then sifted through the presents to find another one for Kes.

What you didn’t see was the father and son looking at each other as Poe unwrapped the gift.

You just grabbed a present for Kes and you started to stand as you turned around, only to fall right back down with a gasp when you found Poe kneeling right behind you.

“What the hell, Po—” You stopped, eyes widening as you saw the black box he was holding.

“You know I love you, right, baby? And you can totally say no, but…” He hesitated before opening the box to show you that his mother’s ring was in it.

You just stared at him with tears quickly filling your eyes because Poe Dameron, the most amazing man that you were certain ever existed, was proposing to you.

Poe let out a laugh as he started to tear up at your emotion as well, trying to remember the speech he’d rehearsed in the mirror over and over again.

He looked down for a moment to gather himself before he lifted his head to look at you, but tears fell from his eyes anyway the moment he saw your face.

“Okay, we can’t just sit here in silence all night, you know? So, uh...I remember the day I knew I wanted to spend my life with you. The first time you stayed the night and I woke up to the fire alarm going off because you decided to make breakfast.” He smiled as you laughed, reaching up with his free hand to stroke your cheek. “I don’t want anyone else. I wanna grow old with you doing all those things we’d stay up late talking about because we wanted them so much. Will you marry me?”

“Duh!” you said immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply.

He held you against him and the two of you kissed each other again and again there on the floor, only breaking a part when you heard the familiar sound of a smartphone’s camera going off.

Kes was taking pictures of you, holding the phone far out as he attempted to see the screen with tears in his eyes. “Your mother would’ve been so proud of you.”

Poe looked a little sad at this, but he pulled back from you and grabbed the ring out of the box.

You held your hand out for him, watching as the ring didn’t quite go up all the way and laughing softly.

“We’ll get it sized.” He kissed your knuckles.

“Maybe until then I can just keep it on this.” You pulled the empty chain out from under his shirt, shaking your head at how sneaky he’d been to keep it on.

“Love you, babe.”

“Love you, Dameron.”

As the two of you kissed again, the sound of Kes’ phone taking pictures started going off.

“Dad, come on.”

[fruitcoops]

Omg can you write about coops going live on instagram and answering TONS of fans questions? And just being domestic and cute together in general

I can, yes! This is partially the 450 celebration--to the lovely person who suggested writing a sequel to one of my favorites, please know that I love and appreciate you! Coop credit goes to @lumosinlove

Check out Part 1 here

“Is it working? I think it’s working.” An explosion of hearts covered the screen and Remus’ eyebrows rose. “Yep, definitely working. Hello, Instagram! I’m Remus Lupin, winger for the Lions.”

“And I’m Sirius Black, center and team captain.” Sirius waved at the phone. “We had a great time answering your questions last month and we figured we’d come back to do it again, since there were so many people we couldn’t get around to in those few minutes.”

“I can already see a bunch coming in. Should we start?” Remus asked, turning to him with a small smile.

“You go first.”

“Alright, first question….” He squinted at the screen. “How long have we been together? We’ve been dating for just over a year now, but we’ve known each other for three-ish.”

Sirius snorted when he read the next question. “What do we do in our free time? It’s cute that you think we have free time. Um, we read a lot. Sometimes I’ll play video games with the guys.”

“If we have a free weekend, we’ll go hiking or take a short road trip. Practice takes up four or five hours a day, so we’re very low-key, which I think surprises people.” Remus scrolled down a bit. “What are our favorite foods?”

“Don’t say it.” Sirius said immediately. “Don’t you dare.”

“Fine, fine.” Just as Sirius began to answer, he coughed, “pineapple pizza.”

“No!” Sirius smacked Remus on the arm with a pillow as he laughed. “Menace. My favorite food is pasta, because it’s versatile and I’m not a heathen. All of you who are agreeing with him, stop it right now. I’m very disappointed in your tastebuds. Next question…do either of us cook? We do, yeah.”

Remus gave him a look. “Do you, though?”

“That’s a funny thing to hear coming from the man who said he’d die for one of my grilled cheeses yesterday,” Sirius countered.

“Fair point. Yes, we both cook, but I generally do it more often because I enjoy it.”

Sirius looked back at the camera with sad eyes. “He kicked me out of the kitchen last week.”

“You kept stealing bites of soup!” Remus laughed. “It wasn’t even done, you could have gotten salmonella!”

“You can’t get salmonella from soup,” Sirius scoffed. The comment section went wild. “…apparently you can. Huh.”

“Next question, before we get too off-track. Who is the more dramatic one?” Remus folded his hands and rested his chin on top. “I’m giving you three guesses and the first two don’t count.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re plenty dramatic.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“Moving on! Oooo, this one is for me specifically.” He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Remus’ waist as he read. “Sirius: does Regulus—you spelled that wrong by the way, there’s only one ‘g’—does Regulus still live with you? If yes, how does that work?”

“I’m telling him someone spelled his name wrong,” Remus said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “He’ll get a kick out of it.”

“He’ll be so pissed,” Sirius agreed. “Nope, Reg moved out a few months ago and now lives with Pascal Dumais, but it was really neat to have him around. He’s still got a room here and it was nice spending so much time with him after we didn’t talk for a while. He’s awful about vacuuming, though.”

“Aw, people think that’s cute.” Remus smiled as he read the responses. “Ohoho, people are getting nosy. What do we argue about the most?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Maybe chores?”

“I was going to say practice time. We’ve gotten into a couple tiffs about watching tape or running drills after we get home.”

“That’s true.” Sirius frowned at the screen. “For those of you who apparently think that’s all one-sided: it’s really not.”

“He came downstairs to get me at ten or eleven at night the other day. We’re both hockey nerds, so it happens from time to time.”

“Are we going to keep doing tiktoks? Oh, for sure, they’re a ton of fun.”

“Absolutely. Where else am I going to get the inspiration to glue things shut just to irritate him?”

Sirius shook his head with a smile. “Diablotin.”

“Nothing like being called a gremlin by your fiancé,” Remus laughed, tapping the screen. “Okay…who’s the best in bed?”

“I’d say we both sleep really well,” Sirius said. “You talk sometimes, which is really funny.”

Remus glanced over. “Do I really?”

“Yep. I think you were grocery shopping the other night. You kept saying orange juice very adamantly.”

“Interesting. I agree, though, we both value sleep.”

“There are too many questions!” Sirius scooted forward and sifted through them. “To jay-mac 2001, we both love kids and might have some in a few years. No, mermaid queen, we don’t really have friends outside of hockey because we don’t have lives outside of hockey—” Remus leaned his forehead on Sirius’ shoulder as he laughed. “—but I’m sure that will change someday. Oh, here’s a fun one: what are our love languages?”

“Our what?”

“Love languages. Like the Buzzfeed quiz Pots made us take last week.” The screen lit up and Sirius looked offended. “Of course we know what Buzzfeed is! We’re 25, you fuckers!”

“I think mine was quality time.”

Sirius pulled Remus’ arm further around his shoulders and leaned into his side with a smile. “It’s physical affection,” he singsonged, making him laugh. “Your turn.”

“Have you finally found your song?” Remus read aloud. “I think so! We did an interview a while back and there was a question about our ‘couple song’, which we didn’t have at the time.”

“That didn’t answer the question, sweetheart.”

“Oh! Shit, sorry. It’s La Vie En Rose by Edith Piaf.”

Sirius read the next question and snorted. “This is convenient. Who swears more?”

Remus looked away. “It’s, uh, a tie.”

“That’s such a lie.”

He sighed. “It’s probably me.”

“You taught a literal baby to swear.” Sirius turned back to the camera with a wicked grin. “Harry’s first word was ‘Loops’, but his second was ‘shit’ and there’s an eighty percent chance he learned it from Re.”

“Changing the subject!” Remus cleared his throat, then smiled. “Aw, I like this one. What’s the compliment you get most often from your partner?”

“Does it have to be verbal?”

“Sirius.”

Sirius’ eyes went wide. “Not like that! Oh, fuck, I did not mean that! You always touch my hair, so I figured that was a compliment. Merde.”

Remus shook his head. “We need a supervisor again. Anyways, you talk about my freckles all the time and it��s adorable.”

“You’re adorable.”

“Sap.”

“Yeah.” Sirius kissed his cheek. “What’s the best date I’ve ever been on? We went ice skating at the local rink a few weeks ago and it was so much fun. I had never done that before.”

Remus’ eyebrows rose. “I thought for sure you would say the aquarium.”

“The aqu—oh, right! With the jellyfish arch!”

“Yeah!”

“Now it’s a tie, I can’t decide.”

“That’s fair. From spaceman93: who tops? We actually don’t have a bunk bed, though that would be cool as hell! Do you think Ikea sells them?”

“We should check.”

The screen exploded into activity again and Remus did a double-take. “Yes, we do buy our furniture from Ikea, there’s no need to sound so shocked. This person—I can’t read your username, sorry—wants to know which of us is more cuddly.”

“Definitely me,” Sirius said.

“For sure. I like cuddling people, but only a select few. I mean, I’m assuming you guys saw the Cap cuddles slideshow at our last game.” He laughed when Sirius turned pink. “Why are you embarrassed? It was cute!”

“There’s a hashtag now!” Sirius complained. “I have a reputation.” Remus rolled his eyes fondly as Sirius looked for the next question. “Ha! Do we ever get jealous?”

“Yes, but not for the reasons people might think.”

Sirius laughed quietly. “We went out to a bar for Kasey’s birthday a month or so ago—”

“Oh, please no.”

“—and a young lady was hitting on me, not taking the hint—”

“Jesus.”

“—so Re comes out of nowhere and kisses me full on the mouth in front of everyone.” He snickered and Remus hid his face in his hands. “It was kinda hot, not gonna lie. Really funny looking back, though. Your turn, sweetheart.”

“Who is clumsier? Ooh, we’re both disasters off the ice. I tripped over the carpet about twenty minutes ago.”

“I’ve run into every doorframe in this house at least twice.” Sirius grimaced. “If I could just tape my skates to my feet and always be on ice, that would be much safer.”

Remus cocked his head to the side. “I dunno, it would be hard to sleep in them.”

“I do that all that time.”

“That’s true, you take a nap in the hall at least once a week in full gear.”

“Reverse Edward Scissorhands.” They had to take a moment to stop laughing before Sirius turned back to the phone. “Mon dieu. Alright, what do we have next…when did you know I was ‘the one’? When did you know, mon amour?”

“Breaking out the nicknames, very snazzy,” Remus teased as he rested his chin on his hand. “I think it was just an accumulation of things, and then one day I went ‘oh shit’ and just knew. Sometime around New Year’s, maybe?”

“You only made it two months?” Sirius teased, nudging him lightly.

“Shush, you.” Remus nudged him back. “I knew I wanted to propose when I came home from hanging out with Leo and you were napping with the dog. You had done the dishes and left Avatar on so we could watch it together, and I opened the door and knew that I wanted that moment forever.”

Sirius smile was unbearably soft, and he kissed Remus on the cheek as hearts filled the comments section. “I’ve never seen so many keysmashes in my life,” he laughed when he looked back to it. “Hey, someone addressed one to you specifically.”

“Really?” He leaned forward eagerly. “To Remus, do you feel like part of the team yet? I do, a hundred percent! It helped that I was close with a lot of the guys from being the PT, so those friendships carried over really well. Being a player on the roster has only made that better and it’s the best job in the world.”

“Who has the better smile? We’re going to say each other, so I think we’ll leave that one to the comments—fuck, that was a bad idea, it’s moving too fast for me to read!” Sirius tapped the screen desperately, then gave up and waited for the scrolling to slow down. “Ask each other one question you’ve always wanted to know the answer to.”

“Do you actually want to get your ears pierced?” Remus asked. “You talked about it a while ago but I wasn’t sure if you were kidding.”

Sirius thought for a minute, biting his lip. “Y’know, I might. It was one of those things where it started as a joke and then I kept thinking about it. I’m not sure, hockey’s not the best sport to have things that can catch and tear.” They both winced at the idea. “My turn. What is it about pineapple pizza that you actually enjoy?”

“It annoys you.” Remus laughed as Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I honestly don’t know why I like it so much. There’s something about the sweetness that goes so well with the regular pizza taste. Okay, last question for me: how many freckles do I have? Not many right now.”

“So many in the summer,” Sirius said dreamily. “That’s the best part of summertime and the only reason I like Florida. They might have bouncy ice, but it’s worth it to see the freckles pop.”

“Whew, Florida’s getting mad in the comments!” Remus grinned. “Get some real ice, then come talk to us.”

“Final question, then we really have to go. What does your partner look best in?” Sirius drummed his fingers on his knees. “His jersey. Or my jersey. He does own a pair of skinny jeans, though, and that was the closest thing to a religious experience I’ve ever had.”

“They’re comfortable.” Remus shrugged, but he looked rather self-satisfied. “That’s all we have time for, folks, but thanks for joining us!”

“Go Lions!”

[agntofhydra]

Sawbones // THREE

(gif credit)

summary: Red String of Fate Soulmate AU

Soul mates have a red thread tied to each others pinkies that only one of them can see.

You’re the Resistance’s head medic. You can see the red thread of fate that leads you to your soulmate. Poe doesn’t believe in the soulmate / thread theory. You don’t agree with his tactics, nor does he approve of yours. Leia and Holdo just really want a win.

pairing: poe dameron x reader

rating: mature for later chapters

read me on ao3!

part one. part two. 

read on till the end for notes!

SAWBONES

THREE // WRONG

Poe had worked his ass off for every title, credential, award, or accolade that he received. He earned Commander. He earned Black Leader. He was so good at what he did, at being a pilot. His skills, his fervor, his determination are why Leia got the heat off his back after the stint he pulled in recovering information from the Yissira Zyde.

His latest title differed only from the others in the fact that he gave it to himself.

Biggest jackass in the galaxy.  

If Poe had to admit he had a flaw, it would probably be that he was so fucking stubborn. He could get so focused that anything in the peripheral of his latest fixation was blurred. He wasn’t concerned with collateral damage, not if it got the job done. But in this case, when it was actually him in the wrong, when his inability to compromise not only hurt him but hurt you, he knew he had messed up.

Nobody told him this, of course. Poe had to come to terms with it on his own accord. Retiring to his quarters after his failed operation, dodging hands that were grabbing at his shoulders, his biceps, his wrists. He wasn’t interested in having a warm body next to him that night. He deserved to lay in his cot and deal with the chill his bones felt under the too-thin sheets. He deserved to lay in the darkness and finally come to terms with the thoughts that swam in his head, the ones he was getting really good at ignoring.

The way your forehead creased, face twisted and lips pursed as he said what he did to you were crystal clear. The way he referred to you as a ‘fucking medic’, completely undermining and disregarding your intelligence which you most definitely possessed in order to get to the position you currently held. But most of all, Poe couldn’t stop replaying how your face distorted when you’d gotten the last word, and the immediate sharp pain that radiated up his arm from his smallest digit that followed.

Poe’s reflexes were quick, though his mental acuity was not. It felt like someone had paused time on him while you were in fast forward.

He still wasn’t really sure what that whole ordeal was about. He had a small feeling tugging in his gut, and his gut was always right.

It wasn’t today, he told himself. Eventually, he knew he was going to be wrong. He’d ignored that fact for a while and was even starting to think he was the exception until a few hours ago.  But a few hours ago he was wrong, and you were right and you both were rubbing your hands at the same time and he didn’t want to think too hard on why that was.

But he was lying in his cot, almost shivering beneath the too-thin sheets and he had nothing but time to think about it. His Grandfather’s words echoed in his head about what he called the ‘Red Thread of Fate’. He couldn’t get his Grandfather to talk about it enough. Besides wanting to follow in his mother’s footsteps, the other reason for Poe wanting to become a pilot was to travel the galaxy in search of whomever was tied to the other end. He’d been to countless planets in hopes that he would come near enough to them to be found. He couldn’t see the damn thing, and he spent every day until he was sixteen lamenting on that fact.

When he was sixteen, he joined the Spice Runners of Kijimi. Once he was finally out, finally traipsing the galaxy, the soulmate tether was exploited and ruined for him. Countless people had tried to fool him into thinking they were his soulmate, and sometimes he believed them. But slowly, he became desensitized and forced himself to stop thinking about the situation all together.

So a few weeks ago, when that cute holographer he was warming his bed with tried to tell him that they were soulmates, he shut down. It had been so long since he had acknowledged it, but the wound still felt fresh and raw.

Anyways, to Poe, it was coincidence you both were rubbing your hands at the same time.

So convinced of this, in fact, that he was already leaving his quarters and trekking quietly to the place he knew he could find you. It was dark out, and as he crossed the runway to streamline his path right to the med bay, he had to stop to look up.

D’Qar wasn’t a small planet, but it always felt as though the stars were within reach at night. They felt so close, so visible in the atmosphere that Poe could hop in his x-wing and grab one. Maybe he’d give it to you. Maker knows you wouldn’t waste any time before taking it into a lab to analyze it. He quickly shook the thought of giving you a fucking star from his head and continued his path.

He had only made it a few steps before noticing a dark figure sat above one of the massive hills the Resistance had carved into for their base. If not for the direct illumination from the stars and D’Qar’s two moons, he might’ve missed your silhouette completely. He began his slow trek up the side of the mound, approaching you cautiously.

If you knew he was there, you didn’t react. You leaned back on your hands, legs crossed at the ankles as you gazed at the constellations above. It made Poe stutter in his stride.

“Leave if you’re gonna talk, Dameron,” you said as he opened his mouth.

For once in his life, Poe Dameron stayed quiet.

He sat next to you, carefully easing himself back on his elbows. As much as he wanted to turn his head and commit how the starlight reflected on your features to memory, his head tilted up like yours.

So there the two of you sat, watching all the stars and all the nebulas and all the supernovas blink back. The galaxy was swirling tonight, and it felt like you and Poe were at the epicenter of it all. Maybe the galaxy did this when someone found their soulmate, Poe didn’t know. He scolded himself in his head for using the s-word.

“You can apologize now,” you broke the silence.

Poe kept himself from chuckling. “I don’t think there’s any apology I could use that would have you forgive me.”

He didn’t see it, but you rolled your eyes. “Ever the dramatic. You were just an ass. I’m sure it isn’t the first, nor the last time this will happen.”

He closed his eyes, biting the insides of his cheeks. He finally turned his head towards you and instant regret flushed his features.

“I’m sorry,” he said as sincerely as someone like Poe could. “It will probably happen again.”

You suppressed a small smile, meeting his gaze. “Accepted. Until next time.”

He nodded. “Fair.”

Another moment of silence passed as you held gazes until you turned your head back towards the atmosphere. Poe wanted to talk, wanted you to help him through the meteor field that was inside his brain, to sift through every thought. But nothing he could say right now would be worth breaking the peace right now.

So, once again, Poe Dameron stayed quiet.

You could basically hear him thinking, his face pinched deep in thought as he stared up with unseeing eyes. Was he thinking about that moment on the runway? The one where the both of you had acted in unison, only for Poe to realize too late? Maybe he hadn’t caught it, just thought your retreat was due to his spiteful words. You both knew that wasn’t true.

Whether or not either of you would bring it up was the true question.

“Is there a lot of talk about me around the base?” Poe asked, tone exposing his curiosity. He knew that you already had an opinion on him, felt that you had already made up your mind on what kind of man Poe was. What kinds of things you had heard, from engineers, holographers or even his own pilots was a constant..worry? Not knowing kept him up at night. You didn’t know him, not really. And for some reason, that bothered him. He wanted to change that. 

At his words, your thoughts drifted back to that day in the medbay when Ziff had told you about Poe’s sentiments on soulmates. You swallowed thickly.

“Nothing that reaches the medbay,” you lied. Poe didn’t buy it for a second.

“Sure, doc. You definitely don’t have one ear attuned to whatever whispers filter in from the hallway.”

Though you’d never admit it, you did feel isolated in your corner of the base. It often felt as though people would sooner gossip with Leia before you. You did engross yourself in your work, only leaving the medbay to sleep or to grab a meal. You didn’t make much of an effort, and you couldn’t blame anyone for not making one either.

“What have you heard about me?” Poe interrupted your thoughts, pressing. 

“Just that you don’t tend to be alone most of the time.” You desperately wanted to change the subject.

“Does that make you think less of me, Doctor?” Poe’s voice was suddenly soft and your pinky throbbed. You knew better than to draw attention to it as Poe continued, “You mentioned my character, my reputation earlier. What do you think of me?”

Poe didn’t really want to confirm what he already knew in his head. He ignored the throbbing in his left and his finger.

“We’re..uh,” you stumbled, “part of the Resistance. Both people of rank. It doesn’t matter what I think of you outside of your role as Commander.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“We don’t have to be friends, Dameron. All that matters is that we do our jobs.”

That was cold.

Poe let the words dissolve into his skin, ride through his veins and drain right into his chest, constricting it. He cleared his throat as he stood, brushing off anything that may linger from what he thought was a night, or at the very least a conversation that would end in a truce.

“Sorry for imposing on your night, Doctor,” Poe said. “I’ll see you around.”

Poe had built a mountain out of the hope he had left his quarters with. As he trudged back to his quarters for the second time that night, he felt it all crashing on top of him as if he were planted at the base. He was sixteen again, sitting in the grass next to you as he brought up running spice - cracking open the door for you in hopes that you would enter.

Maybe the trip to Kessel had skewed his brain, the jump to and from hyperspace leaving him scrambled. Maybe it actually was a coincidence that the two of you had rubbed your hands at the same time. If he couldn’t see it, that meant that you could. And if you didn’t mention it, well.

Poe Dameron was wrong. Twice.

✗ ✗ ✗

Leia had taken Poe off world to rub elbows with a couple of diplomats in Coruscant. It was much needed, seeing as there was no new First Order intel or any reason for him to fly his x-wing into oblivion.

She’d noticed he had been...off as of recent. He was highly aware of his surroundings, mostly just aware of who he was around. Poe usually cracked his knuckles on a frequent basis, but she’d noticed he’d been providing more care to the smallest finger on his left hand.

Leia couldn’t see the red, but being force sensitive allowed her to see how a fraction of the air surrounding his hand seemed to almost blur. Not unlike how heat distorted the horizon on a particularly hot day in D’Qar. She knew what it meant though, saw the very same distortion around not only her right hand, but Han’s left.

She really wasn’t expecting to see it besiege the smallest finger on your right hand when she’d woken you in your office a few days prior.

She didn’t need much more than that and the inability for the two of you to have a civil conversation to connect the dots.

He stood at the wall to wall window that opened the ship to the galaxy outside, absentmindedly worrying that same finger Leia had been looking at. It was the newest addition of his little idiosyncrasies, not unlike how he rubbed his hand over his stubble, or extended his hand beside his hip to make sure BB-8 was within reach. Maybe it was him feeling a tendon in the right spot or his mind playing tricks on him, but sometimes he swore he could feel something cut through the skin.

Leia approached him until they stood side by side, looking out.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing this,” she began. “Reminds me what we’re fighting for.”

“If I could, I’d take off in my ship and never land,” Poe said quietly, finally dropping his hands to his side.

“Does your finger hurt?” Leia asked.

“Jammed it on the cargo ship when we went to Kessel. It’s fine.”

Leia nodded. “Unfortunate, nonetheless.”

Poe cleared his throat, eyes never straying from the scene before him.

“Can you see yours?”

Leia smiled softly. “No,” she answered. “Not in the way I’d like to.”

Poe was going through the five stages. He had been firmly set in denial following the time he spent with you on the hill. He’d psyched himself out, doubted his eyesight (which was hard, because..y’know. He was a pilot.) and reprimanded his brain for even coming up with such an unbelievable explanation.

Now?  His jaw was set in anger. Angry at himself, at you, at whatever joke the galaxy thought it was making. He was bitter at the universe for constantly building him up, creating another possibility for Poe just to end up decimated. Every single time. Ultimately, Poe let it happen. Every single time.

But why was he mad at you?

That old part of himself that Poe held on to -  the starry eyed, illusory kid he used to be - wanted it to be you. Wanted you to be the one to break the cycle. But it wasn’t you. You barely considered him a friend. He should’ve asked you if you could see yours before leaving the conversation so dejected. He could’ve saved himself from spending the rest of that night sulking in his quarters, throwing himself deeper into despair when he got under those fucking sheets.

He needed more blankets. Maybe he could steal some from the medbay.

But that was almost a guarantee he’d run into you, and his pride was still recovering. He’d probably end up doing it anyway, mourning from a distance the best almost-soulmate he’d run into.

“What’s got Poe Dameron so quiet?” Leia asked, she couldn’t take his lamenting any longer. She didn’t need to be a jedi to hear Poe’s thoughts.

“I want to find them, Leia,” he began. “Whoever they are. So bad. I think the galaxy knows that I want it more than anything, and it’s purposely keeping them away.”

She watched him and from her initial lack of response, Poe backpedaled.

“Not more than defeating the First Order, of course. Finding them comes after.”

Leia rolled her eyes, knocking her shoulder against the side of his arm fondly. “You remind me of my brother.”

Poe laughed. “Good or bad?”

“It changes,” she shrugged. “But overall? Good. What makes you think you haven’t met them yet?”

Poe puckered his lips in thought. “If I had, why wouldn’t they have come forward?”

“Han didn’t tell me until we were married.”

“You married someone you knew wasn’t your soulmate?” Poe tried to hide his shock.

“I knew,” she answered. “Everything told me it was him. But he was Han, and thought it was funny to wait. Overall, Poe. I think you know.”

Poe closed his eyes, muttering to himself that “if it was that holographer from a few weeks ago, I’m fucked.”

Leia turned around, leaving Poe by himself to stand by the window.

“Don’t overthink it,” she threw over her shoulder before disappearing into another part of the ship.

Poe was self-assured in every other aspect of his life except for this sliver, which at times seemed all encompassing. At Leia’s words, that small flicker of heat that he recognized as hope burned in his chest, and as much as he tried to extinguish it, it remained. Nestled itself in the lowest chamber of his heart where it would wait until he knew, just like Leia said.

- 

a lot of you were begging for poe's pov so i really hoped this lived up to your expectations! a little shorter of an update, but there will be more plot in the next chapter. this was just some nice fluffy angsty filler. as always, feedback and love is encouraged and appreciated! xoxox

TAGLIST (message me to be added!) 

@yayrainday​ @samhollandssweaters​ @softly-sad​

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 1. Back Into The Field

Intro: Picking up a few months on from the events of Stark Spangled Man, Katie finds herself on desk bound duty following a disciplinary for ignoring Fury’s orders. But when she’s finally released, and disaster strikes on the first mission she’s run in months, she kinda wishes she’d stayed there.

Warnings: Bad language, mentions of blood, injury, angst and a minor character death.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Katie Stark

A/N: So here we go. A relaunch of SSB thanks to my other blog being flagged. For those of you who are new, welcome! I hope you enjoy. And to all you current Stark Spangled Readers, welcome back, You might spot a few subtle differences as we go through, as things I’m not happy with have been rewritten but don’t worry, nothing will impact the mine lines in the hot mess that is Stark and Rogers.

As always, please leave your comments or send me messages, asks, anything. I love you all!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

March 2013.

Any doctor would cry if they visited SHIELD; the caffeine and alcohol intake of pretty much every worker there would way exceed a dose construed to be healthy. Mind you, if you asked any agent whether they’d give up coffee or alcohol, they’d say alcohol in a heartbeat.

Well, most of them.

Katie couldn’t imagine surviving without an ice cold beer on a hot summer’s day, but she also didn’t function until she had her morning cup of Joe. It was a tough choice to make.

Not today though, she needed coffee. And lots of it. After ‘going rogue’ to chase the Mandarin with her brother, month’s later Fury was still pissed and as such was basically giving her the most boring thing he could think of- working through piles of mission reports to analyse and cross reference with others to pick up on common threads .To be honest, she didn’t mind it too much. After the excitement of the festive period she had welcomed a relatively quiet return to work, and didn’t particularly give a shit what Fury thought about her either.

She circling a part of the hard copy of the report she was working on with highlighter pen, before glancing back at her computer screen to cut and paste it into the Scrapbook App she used to trace trends with, letting out a groan. Who was she kidding? Desk duty sucked ass.

*****

Steve’s morning wasn’t going much better.

Whilst he wasn’t desk bound, after a particularly gruelling Ops Training session during which one of the newest kids suffered a broken nose after colliding painfully with a stray shock baton, he was almost wishing he was. Following a quick debrief, he checked his schedule on his phone and found he was free now for the rest of the day so he showered and headed up to find Katie. He found her in her office, paper in her hand as she stared at her computer screen, eyes narrowed. Steve watched her for a moment, taking in the way her nose crinkled as she read something, her bottom lip being dragged under her top teeth as she continued her work, completely unaware he was there. With a groan she dropped the notes she’d been holding to the desk and ran her hand through her dark hair.

Steve felt he was interrupting something, even though he knew he wasn’t, but he also didn’t want to appear like he’d been watching her either, which he totally had. So he gave a little cough and, as she turned round, her pretty face cracking into a smile which he returned. 

“Hey! How was training?”

“Don’t ask.” He let out a snort.

“That bad huh?”

“In a fashion.” He nodded, leaning on the door frame. “You had lunch?”

“Nope.”

“Wanna come get some?”

She nodded instantly “God yes. Can we get FroYo after?”

“Yeah but don’t let me pile it with all that crap this time!” he shot her his best playfully disapproving look as he remembered his first trip the Frozen Yoghurt stall. He had loaded his with all sorts of different things and the result had been beyond foul.

Katie gave a laugh and picked up her jacket, shrugging it on. Standing up straight, he moved to allow her to step through the door and followed her to the elevator.

“Stick to chocolate chip, mint and cookie dough.” She said, stepping into it. “Trust me.”

They strode across the foyer and into the early spring sun. Katie pulled her jacket tighter around herself as they crossed the street, shivering a little in the cool breeze.

“How are you just wearing a shirt?” she looked at Steve as he fell into step besides her, making sure he was on the side nearest the road. He noticed that she’d long since given up chiding him on this old fashioned habit after he had revealed it was something he used to do for his mom too, and Bucky’s younger sister. In fact, today, he swore he saw something that looked like a soft smile flicker on her lips when he positioned himself on her left, but as quick as he noticed it, it was gone.

“It’s not too bad.” He grinned. “I’ve been through worse.” He opened the door to the Deli for her and followed her in as they took their place in the queue. After a moment or two he became aware that she was looking at him.

“What?” he asked, turning to her exasperatedly. Katie couldn’t help but grin, she enjoyed winding the usually mild mannered man up

“I’m trying to imagine how you would look with a beard. And with shorter hair.” she mused, causing the Captain to roll his eyes.

“Not gonna happen.”

“What the hair cut or the beard?”

“Neither.”

“Spoil sport.”

“Captain America doesn’t have a beard.” he shook his head.

“No but, Steve Rogers could…”

She was impossible, but Steve couldn’t help but want to laugh. This playfulness was the thing that he enjoyed the most, how she could just treat him like any other punk she knew.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re exhausting?” he rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his face as she stepped forward in the queue.

“Yeah, you.” she spun round to face him, grinning “Several times. But you still come back for more.”

“Well I have the distinct impression if I didn’t you’d hunt me down anyway”

They ordered and ate their lunch, Steve filling her in on the ops drill and after Fro-Yo they made arrangements to slob out that evening at his with a film. They walked back to the Triskellion where Katie headed back to her office to continue sifting through the Mount Everest of reports she had to do. As with anything, once she got the bit between her teeth, she completely zoned out. It was only when she heard a gabble of voices all bidding each other goodbye that she looked up from her work. It was dark outside, and past six.

“Shit.” she groaned as the realisation washed over her. She was supposed to be at Steve’s for half past. She clicked to save her work whilst calling him at the same time, phone sandwiched between her cheek and shoulder.

“So…I’m running late.” She apologised the instant he answered. He chuckled.

“I thought that you said the one good thing about being confined to desk duties was that you set the hours.”

“Yeah, well I got caught up in something, but I’m leaving now. Do you want me to grab pizza on the way?”

“Sounds good, not Chicago Style though. I’m hankering for a proper piece of pie.”

“God you’re such a New Yorker.” She rolled her eyes.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” His voice took on a mock hurt tone and she could imagine him pouting on the other end of the phone.

“Hmmm, I’m undecided. Right, I’m leaving now. See you soon.”

“Drive safe.”

“What are you my dad?” she snorted at his stern instruction.

“Old enough to be.” he shot back.

“Touche.” she sniggered, cutting the call

*******

“Boring New York style for Mr S Rogers…” she spoke into the intercom at the main door to Steve’s apartment complex and he buzzed her in. By the time she’d climbed the stairs to his floor he was waiting, leaning on the door frame.

“Bout time.” He muttered, taking the boxes off her “Was about to send a search party.”

“Mario’s was packed.” Katie said, kicking off her sneakers and heading straight through to his kitchen to grab a beer out of his fridge without waiting for him to offer, knowing he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to. 

Steve headed into the living room, depositing the thee boxes on the coffee table before he sank onto the couch and reached straight in for one of the pepperoni slices. A few moments later Katie flopped down next to him, handing him a beer.

“What we ticking off the list tonight?” she asked.

“A Few Good Men.” he said, nodding at the TV where he had queued the movie up ready.

“Wait, did you manage to navigate that Android box all by yourself?” She looked at him and he sighed. 

“I’m not completely useless ya know.”

“Jury’s out.” she teased, curling her legs up onto the sofa next to her.

They watched the movie. Steve got most of the references within it. He chuckled in the right places, and laughed out loud when Katie was unable to stop herself uttering the immortal line You can’t handle the truth. When the credits began to roll,  Katie unfolded herself from where she had been sat and they launched into Steve’s favourite part of Movie Nights- the post film analysis.

“Who was the guy who played the colonel, Jessup?” he looked at her.

“Jack Nicholson. Amazing actor. He’s in a few on your list.”

“He was good. And I know he was supposed to be the good guy so to speak but Kaffee annoyed me a little. He was so arrogant.”

“He reminds me of Tony” Katie sniggered.

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything” Steve gave a little smirk and Katie shrugged.

“I get what you mean though. He is an ass, and it pisses me off a little the romance angle they take with him and Galloway. I mean, she’s portrayed as this strong woman, in the male dominated military woman and they still have to go there.”

“It does seem to be a tried and tested format.” Steve nodded, leaning back against the cushions on his couch “Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy wins girl over…even the movies I saw back in before I took a sub-zero nap were the same.”

“I suppose it appeals to the hopeless romantic in all of us.” Katie shrugged.

They continued to chat for a bit longer until Katie glanced at her watch, and seeing the time, decided to call it a night. Steve walked her down to her car, he always did without fail, another thing she had given up chiding him for and when he came back upstairs and got in the shower, he found himself straying back to the first time he had seen her, the minute she had stepped into the light in the boxing gym and he’d found himself looking into the greenest eyes he had ever seen in his life.

The more he stood there in the stream of hot water, thinking about her, the more he started to feel something…well…different. And he couldn’t put his finger on it. Was it that he found her attractive? Well of course he did. To be honest, he reckoned you’d have to be blind not to. And if he was totally honest, since he’d seen her the first time in that little boxing gym in New York he had noticed how pretty she was. She had the figure of the stars of his time. Hour glass waist, brunette hair, shapely ass and legs and quite large breasts considering she was so slim. But what did it for him were her eyes. Deep, sparkling emeralds that he could lose himself in quite happily. And that smile, that fucking smile that could make him stop in his tracks when she flashed it.

But it was more than just that, she was…well…just Katie.

It was strange, really, she reminded him so much of Peggy in some ways, but in others she was so different. Both were vivacious, smart, strong willed and beautiful. But where Peggy had been harsh, after a military upbringing, Katie had a softer edge to her. She was still ferocious at times, but she was a people person, and somehow knew exactly how to explain and understand what he was trying to say even when he struggled to himself. She made him feel at ease. With that in mind it wasn’t surprising they had grown so close. He could trust her and knew that she would do anything for him because she was a good person. And she made it so easy to be around, he didn’t feel a shred of awkwardness around her. 

He hadn’t thought he’d ever find himself a friend he could be as honest and open with again, one he would happily lay his life on the line for, not just out of a sense of duty but out of a sense of love and friendship.

Who you trying to kid, Rogers? 

He knew his feelings went deeper than that. All those times he’d felt irritation at other men looking at her or touching her, all those times he’d looked at her and just wanted to smile because she was just her… the fear he had felt when he had known she was off chasing the Mandarin and he wasn’t able to help…none of that was anything to do with mere friendship. 

He leaned his forehead against the tiles of the shower cubicle and groaned. He was crushing on his best friend.

He was so fucked. *******

Katie’s desk arrest didn’t last much longer. Two weeks later she was catapulted back into the field, on what was supposed to be a simple op, simple by SHIELD standards, anyway. They had a request from the Cuban government – all very hush, hush, of course –to take down a drug lord who ran a cartel SHIELD had tangled with last year.

Katie, in her role as Mission Analyst, read the files and all the intel, pulled together a briefing and delivered it, answering questions that came her way from the team and then handed over to Steve when it was his turn to take the floor. He started issuing out his orders, and informed everyone that the three newest recruits would be joining them as it would be a fairly straight forward op to ease them into.

And it had been, for the most part, until one of those new recruits, Jack Adams, had frozen mid fire fight and as a consequence he’d taken three bullets to the chest. Which shouldn’t have been an issue given the armour they all wore. But when the man failed to get up, Katie knew there was something very, very wrong.

“Adams is down!” she loudly spoke into her radio as she took aim at the hostile responsible. As soon as she was sure the round she had let off had hit her target, she broke cover to get to Adams, as she was closest to him. She skidded to the floor, pressing her hand to his chest and her other reached to his face, turning it to look at her.

“I got you, Adams, look at me.” she urged gently, her hand warm, wet and slick with the young man’s blood. Steve dropped besides her and she turned to face him.

“Armour piercing rounds.” She shook her head. “Steve, I can’t stop the bleeding.” Her tone left the Captain in no doubt as to how worried she was and he looked around frantically for help.

“Medic, NOW! We need emergency evac…”

“Stay with us, Jack.” Katie reached into her belt and retrieved a tab of morphine as he young man’s hand gripped her other whilst she administered the pain relief.

“Son, you’re gonna be fine.” Steve spoke and Adams’ horrified eyes turned to Steve. The soldier swallowed, fighting to keep his face calm. He’d seen that expression so many times on the battle field, the one that told him the man who lay injured knew he was injured beyond repair, that there was nothing to be done for him. But this was now seventy years into the future, medical science had worked so many wonders since then, they had to be able to do something, right?

“RUMLOW WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT MEDIC?” Katie screamed, her tone frantic.

“Still got hostiles on us!” Rumlow replied over the coms. “Evans has taken four down but they’re approaching from the right! We need to cover the medics in and now you’re down there…”

Steve instantly looked round before he looked back at Katie “We’ll have to take him ourselves”

She bit her lip, looking at the young man, then up to Steve again. Everything in their training told them not to move casualties, but Steve knew if they stayed here he was going to bleed out. Katie seemed to come to the same conclusion and she nodded.

“Alright. Brock, we’re coming to you. Have the medics prep the bay on the jet.. Evans, we need top cover.”

“Roger, Cap…”

“Jack, we’re gonna move you now.” Katie looked at him, her voice calm and level as besides her, Steve moved to take the injured man into a lift over his shoulder. Once he had him positioned, he gave a small jerk of his head and Katie picked up his shield in one hand, and her pistol in the other as they broke cover, sprinting across the front of the industrial yard towards the jet. In the corner of his eye, Steve spotted two hostiles moving but before he could shout a warning, Katie had fired off two shots, the thumps and lack of returning fire meaning each bullet had hit its target. Soon they were joined by Rumlow and Rollins who flanked them up the ramp where Katie dropped Steve’s shield to the floor with a clang and offered her hand back to Adams as Steve placed him gently on the stretcher.

“It’s gonna be ok.” Katie soothed him as the medics bustled around, her eyes glancing up every so often to watch what they were doing.

“Can you tell my mom I love her and, and my dad.” Adams was mumbling now and Katie shook her head.

“You can tell them yourself.” She told him fiercely. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“We’re locked down outside, local authorities are handling it now.” Rumlow informed Steve who had stepped back from where Katie was knelt by the injured man. “How is he?”

Steve turned to Rumlow, shaking his head sadly. “Not good. He lost a lot of blood.”

At that point Katie suddenly drew back slightly, looking at the hand held in hers, before she glanced at the medic who was sadly shaking his head. Katie’s shoulders slumped as her eyes closed, face screwing up into a pained expression and Steve pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger as he realised that the young man had lost his final fight.

“Shit.” Rumlow muttered.

“Radio base” Steve turned to Rumlow his voice soft “Let’s get him home.”

*******

Writing mission reports wasn’t Katie’s favourite thing to do, but this one was awful. So she’d treated it like ripping off a band aid, and after a horrific night’s sleep, she’d been at the Triskelion early to get it done. As a result it was little after ten am, she was done for the day and was about to head home until she heard a familiar voice.

“Eat me…eat me…” The voice was accompanied by a bag from her favourite bakery, which was hovering in the space between the door to the office and the frame, before Clint Barton’s head poked round the side, a grin plastered on his face.

“Hey!” She beamed at her friend as he dropped a cup holder containing two coffees and the bag onto her desk before taking a seat, scooting the wheeled chair over the floor towards her.

“Heard you had a rough time of it yesterday so I brought donuts and almond croissants. And coffee.”

“Hawkeye, you are a godsend.” Katie smiled, taking a large drink and leaning back, closing her eyes.

“That the first time you’ve lost a man on a mission?” Clint asked.

“Other than Coulson.” she shrugged. “Shit, Adams was twenty-three Clint. He had his whole life ahead of him.”

Clint watched as she rubbed at her temple before reaching into the bag and pulling out an almond croissant. She couldn’t remember when she had last eaten, it must have at least been before the mission.

“How’s Cap taken it?”

“On the outside he seems okay, but I know he blames himself. Keeps saying he shouldn’t have taken him.” Katie shrugged “He’s gone with Fury to see Adams’ parents. Rather him than me.”

“This job is hard.” Clint said after a moment or two pause. “We fight to keep everyone safe, but y’know, sometimes not everyone makes it. Thing is, if we can’t find a way to deal with that, then maybe next time no one gets saved at all.”

“You mean like Collateral damage?” she snorted, shaking her head.

“No, I mean that everyone one of us that are out in the field know the risks Nova, hell last year 7 of us took on a horde of Aliens in New York. For hours we fought them, and did any of us give a second thought to our own safety? No, because that’s what we do.”

His words made sense. She knew they did, but that didn’t stop the feeling in her stomach that if she had done her research more, maybe she could have spotted something that would have told them about the armour piercing rounds.

*******

Adams’ parents already knew he was dead. Fury had the local authorities call ahead, common practice now, but still, Steve found himself sat on their couch, talking, informing them all about their son’s last moments. They hadn’t shouted, hadn’t screamed or blamed him. Instead, they’d thanked him for what he had done and for bringing him back so they could hold a proper burial.

By the time he got back to base, he was exhausted.

“Here.” Fury handed him a glass of scotch from the bottle he had pulled out of his desk. Steve took it, dropping onto one of the sofas at the side of the large office, Fury settling into the other. Steve knew the drink couldn’t get him drunk, but he liked the momentary buzz he got that lasted all of sixty seconds post sip, and the comforting burn it gave when he swallowed.

The pair of them sat in silence for a few moments before Fury sat forward, his eye fixed on Steve.

“Ever done that before, a death message?” he asked.

“Can’t say I have. Wasn’t really my job back in the day.” Steve shrugged, undoing his tie and popping the top button of his dress shirt.

“Worst part of the job. Doesn’t matter how many times you do it, never gets any easier.” Fury ran his hand over his face, and it struck Steve how tired his boss actually looked.

“Yeah, it isn’t exactly up there with my favourite thing to do.” Steve rolled his tie up and shoved it into the pocket of his old Army uniform pants.

“How’s Nova?” Fury asked.

“She’s upset.” Steve sighed “But she’s strong, she’ll be okay. I’m gonna head over and see how she is later.”

“You two spend a lot of time together outside of work.” Fury commented, innocently enough but there was something in his tone, something that was almost good natured accusation.

“Not a problem is it, Sir?” Steve asked, keeping his face straight.

“No, not at all.” Fury said “Why do you think I partnered you up in the first place? She’s a people person…”

“She’s a good friend.” Steve nodded “We get on.”

“Glad to hear it.” Fury nodded. There was another moment’s pause before he spoke again. “There’s going to be a debrief with the Secretary of Defense tomorrow.”

Steve sighed “If they’re looking to blame someone, the buck stops with me. I should never have taken the kid.”

“Bullshit.” Fury said simply “I’ve read the reports. From what they say, he just froze.”

“He wasn’t experienced enough.”

“Taking risks is part of this job. It’s a dangerous gig.” Fury held his gaze. “It was a straight forward in and out job Captain. What happened was an accident. A tragic one, but an accident none the less. From the reports, neither you nor Stark could have done any more to save his life.”

Steve shrugged, the words were kind but didn’t help him feel any better.

Three glasses of scotch later, Steve shook the director’s hand and left the office, pulling out his phone. He didn’t want to appear like he was checking up on Katie, so he pinged her a text, dressing it up like it was him who needed to see her, which wasn’t a complete lie. He did. He was craving the normality she gave him.

Can I come over? I could do with seeing a friendly face

He read it a few times, before deciding it was casual enough before he sent it. The reply was almost instantaneous.

My door is always open for you. And I made Mac and Cheese. Plenty left.

He couldn’t help but smile. One of the best things about this new life was the food, and her Mac and Cheese was frankly his favourite thing to eat on the planet.

He changed into a pair of sweats and a hoody, hastily making his way to Katie’s penthouse and the smile she gave him when he walked into her place instantly made him feel at ease.

“Hey.” she crossed the space towards him and gave him a hug which he happily melted into, a hug they both needed.

“How did it go?” she asked, pulling away.

“As well as can be expected.” He sighed as he followed her into the kitchen, dropping into the stool on the other side of the breakfast bar. “His mom broke down but they didn’t shout or yell.”

Katie flipped the lid off a beer and handed it to him. He took it, with a nod of thanks and pulled a large swig before he rest his hands on the counter, staring at the bottle.

He was brooding and blaming himself, Katie could tell, so she gently lay her hand on his, reaching over the counter.

“It wasn’t your fault Steve.” she spoke softly and he looked at her.

God, she did that all the time, knew what he was thinking. It gave him the unnerving impression that sometimes she could read his mind.

“I should have spotted that shooter.” he shook his head.

“I’m the fucking mission analyst.” she sighed. “I knew from last time those guys were packing, if I’d done more research, maybe I would have found out about the armour piercing rounds.”

“You can’t seriously blame yourself?” Steve’s frowned.

“Why not?” she shrugged sadly. She’d been over it a million times in her head that day and had come to the same conclusion every time. She should have spotted something, dug further. “I didn’t do my job.”

“Yes, you did.” he implored, his eyes locking onto hers “Your report clearly set out the layout, the learning from previous missions…Adams was just too inexperienced, I should never have taken him.”

There was a pause as the microwave pinged and Katie turned to look at it.

“You know, Clint made a good point before.” she reached in for the plate and the smell of the food made his stomach grumble again as she continued “This job, it’s hard. We fight to keep people safe but not everyone makes it back all the time…and if we can’t learn to live with that then maybe next time no one gets saved.”

“It feels like trading lives.” He took a deep breath as she placed the plate down in front of him “It’s just wrong.”

“I know.” She said, handing him some cutlery and sat down next to him.

“You eaten?” he asked, looking at her, suddenly aware she didn’t have a plate. She nodded.

“Couldn’t have waited until now, I’d have starved to death.” she said, shrugging.

“Hardly.” he replied, mouth full, instantly realising he had said the wrong thing as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Is that a fat joke?” she asked, making him roll his eyes as he swallowed. That hadn’t been it at all, he was referring to the fact that she never actually stopped eating, despite her tiny frame she gave him a run for his money.

“No, that’s not what I meant. You’re tiny.” he said, almost choking on his food through his protests.

“So now you’re making short jokes?” She shot back. Steve looked at her, dismayed she thought he was being mean to her but then he spotted the look in her eyes and rolled his own.

“Punk.”

“Jerk” she shot back. 

It was the perfect way to escape the trauma and stress of the last few days. Once they had finished eating the two of them flopped down on her large L shape sofa, Steve’s legs extended along one side of the L shape, her legs tucked underneath her as she leaned against his shoulder. He couldn’t help but notice the smell of her shampoo…apple, he thought, along with her perfume. Her proximity was making his head buzz but he wasn’t about to move her, the contact was comforting. And it clearly was for her too as about an hour or so into the film- the first in the Lord of The Rings trilogy- he felt her head growing heavy. He glanced down and saw that her eyes were closed and, as he watched, her head slipped slightly. He shifted so that he could catch her gently, and grabbed a cushion from behind him, placing it against his leg. He manoeuvred her head so that she was lay down, gently brushing her hair off her face. She stirred slightly, snuggling down further into the cushion as he absentmindedly rubbed between her shoulder blades as her breathing grew gentle and even.

Steve stayed like that, engrossed in the film right to the end, surprisingly. He had enjoyed it. Katie hadn’t woken up, and he looked down debating whether or not to wake her or simply carry her through to her bedroom. In the end he decided to do neither, instead he reached for the remote as he sifted through to find something else to watch. He didn’t want to leave just yet, he was too comfy and too at ease. Picking one of his favourites, Casablanca, he settled down, getting himself comfy as he immersed himself in the familiar world of Rick’s Café Americain. At one point he felt his eyes growing heavy and he lay his head back, deciding to rest them for just a little while…

**** Katie was jolted awake, quite violently, and as she jerked into an upright position she saw exactly why. Steve was thrashing in his sleep, his face contorted in horror, small murmurs and whimpers slipping from his plump lips. She placed both her hands on his shoulder and shook him. Softly at first, then a bit stronger, trying to rouse him.

“Steve…” she gave him a harsher shake and his eyes flew open, wide in panic and she reached up to cup his face in her hands. “Hey, it’s okay. It was just a dream.”

Her soft voice filled Steve’s senses and, as he realised where he was and whose eyes were looking at him, he took a shaky breath and lay his head back.

Damned it, he’d fallen asleep and had a nightmare. On her sofa.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice croaky, “I err…”

“Don’t apologise, it’s fine.” Katie shook her head gently “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Whilst she was gone he leaned forward, swinging his legs off the couch so his feet touched the floor, wiping his clammy head with his hands, the memory still flashing through his dream.

Cold air was blasting his hair back…there was a hole in the side of the train…then a flash of light and Bucky flew straight through the hole. “BUCKY…” he yelled, grabbing onto the side of the train, the bar in one hand as he stretched to reach his friend with the other.

“Steve…” The voice was louder, but not loud enough. No, he had to get to Bucky…

But he was gone, Steve was grasping at nothing but air.

Just a dream, Katie had said. It was anything but…

She appeared back in the room with a glass of water and he thanked her as she passed it to him. He took a large gulp, swallowing and was relieved when his breathing began returning to normal.

“You ok?” she asked, kindly as her hand gently knotted into his, her concern evident.

“Yeah, just a nightmare.” he nodded softly “I’ve not had one for a while.”

“Understandable with what’s happened. Wanna tell me what it was about?”

“It was Bucky.” he swallowed thickly “I was replaying the moment he fell. The moment he plummeted to his death from that Hydra train and I didn’t save him.”

Katie stayed silent for a moment before her hand curled round Steve’s shoulder and she pulled him to her, causing him to lay his head on her shoulder. “You know it wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have done more” The guilt ate Steve up every day, that he had survived. Why had he deserved that any more than Bucky?

“How?” she said again. “How could you have done anymore?”

"I should have gone after him.” he said quietly.

“What would’ve changed if you had?” Katie asked. “There’s no way he could have survived that fall.”

“He wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.“ He replied, "I should have gone after him, brought him home, done something.”

Katie remained quiet, her hand gently running through his hair which was nice, far too nice. He took a deep breath and sat up moving away from her touch.

"What time is it?”

“Nearly six in the morning” Katie glanced at her watch.

“You’re kidding?” Steve snorted.

“Nope. You want some coffee?” she stood up, stretching her arms above her head.

“Yeah if that’s ok.” he replied, following her to the kitchen. From her body language he could tell she was rolling her eyes, even if she wasn’t facing him.

“I don’t know if your Ma ever told you, but it’s rude to run out on a girl after you spend the night with her.”

“And as you know, I’m useless with women.” he sat down at the barstool on the breakfast bar. He watched her, but he didn’t say anything as she bustled about, throwing some bread in the toaster and then went to the fridge for the butter, marmalade and jam, sliding them onto the island. At that point Steve held his hands up.

“You don’t have to-” he started to say, but she silenced him with a glare, similar to the ones Peggy used to give him, the look that could stop him in his tracks it was that stern.

“Shut up.” she poured them both a cup of the coffee before adding milk and a spoon of sugar to each, passing one to him. The bread popped up from the toaster, and she put it on a plate before sliding it over to him and adding more bread to the machine.

His stomach rumbled and he gave in, smearing butter over his toast. He eyed the jam curiously. He’d had marmalade before but…

He looked at Katie and she nodded. “It’s good.”

So he added some, and after a bite he concluded she was right, and nodded in agreement. Once the next round of toast was done she sat next to him.

“So, when did I fall asleep.” she asked, swallowing her food.

“About an hour into the film.”

She shook her head “What an ass…”

“It wasn’t a problem.” He replied honestly as he took a bite of his breakfast. “To be honest I enjoyed it.”

“What, me drooling on your leg?”

He swallowed, his eyes wide “I meant the film.”

“I know.” she smirked.

***** Chapter 2

**Original Posting**

[hes-writer]

Just A Litle Bit of Your Heart (5)

Summary: y/n must make a decision

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 3211 words

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

A/N: apologies for taking over a year to finish this series! thanks for being patient. as usual, let me know what you thought.

The inspiration behind this part is credited to Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. More specifically, Naoko’s first letter. Some lines were used as is and others were paraphrased. The description of when Watanabe and Naoko had sex are also collaborated along this piece.

I’m really nervous about this.

____

Harry’s words echoed in Y/N’s head; she has never felt such conflicting emotions coursing through her body. Her heart twinged with the need to press her body closer to him because she loves him so dearly. A surge of logical capacities told her to extract herself from the situation--the toxic relationship that they built up to, on the other hand. Did she want to stay with him? Or did she want to leave? Harry was giving her the chance to call it quits right at this moment, to run away from him and start a blossoming relationship with someone else, instead of sticking around and be strung along as he picked up various women on the way to nowhere.

Nowhere.

This would lead to nowhere if she continued to act the way she did. It would be quite tragic to let their relationship strain, only to crash and burn because they didn’t know when to stop. Either she had to change to be more understanding and indifferent or he had to abandon his bachelor ways and return home to her. She didn’t know if both of them could cocoon themselves in a box that they’ve left long before.

That version of Y/N was long gone and she did not know what to make of it; if it was Harry to be condemned for taking advantage of the kindness of her heart, or was it her own fear of being left alone that lead her to being alone? 

Y/N blinked sluggishly at him, lashes casting a shadow on her cheeks as she shifted her gaze away from his curious ones. She was hurting but she didn’t want to hurt him. Somewhere inside her heart knew that that love she held for Harry was too much--and too much love can kill you. 

She didn’t know what to expect from it and Y/N thinks she might be experiencing it now. The subtleness of losing herself to the void, pieces of her that can never be brought back, that will never make another appearance because those were only brought up when he was still the Harry she fell in love with and they were still them. Withering away like a dried flower that hit its peak, the grace and standards Y/N held for herself, the things that made her the woman Harry fell for washed away in the midst of the chaos. 

“I-I don’t know,” 

Harry took a breath through his nose, nipping at his bottom lip, not knowing whether to release a breath of relief because she didn’t break it off or tense tenfold because the option of leaving him was still on the table. 

“We can work it out. We can go to couples therapy, we can do something!” He insisted, frantically spewing out words he thought would alleviate his situation. 

She stared at him, scrutinizing his loveable face, wondering if he knew the extent of what he was asking for. Admittedly, Y/N had her faults throughout. However, she wouldn’t say she was the biggest problem of what had occurred. Sure, it was her idea that got them in this mess in the first place, but it’s not like she wanted it to be this way.  

Harry spoke words to her but it never reached her ears. Frankly, it gave her a headache.

“Am I the problem here?” 

He paused his monologue, hand sifting through his curls. His body was burning in agony, wanting this conversation to be over so he could prove to her that his words were merely a representation of his actions. 

“I can change,”

Harry’s confession fluttered Y/N’s heart-- to hear that he was willing to make this work so as far as to quit his usual habits shafted a glimmer of hope in her heart. He could charge forward right now, even as his heart writhed, slowly sinking in a swamp of near loneliness.  Harry made a courageous gesture to hold her dainty hands in his own, looking deep in her eyes to see a reflection of him pleading for another chance. For a moment, his heart faltered, realizing that all this time she longed for him, and only him. 

She shook her head quickly. There were multiple times when she would reach out with her fingertips to try and touch the light slithering towards her; a symbol of wishes, desires, and expectations.

She always came back empty-handed. 

“My hands weren’t the ones that you wanted to hold. You weren’t searching for my warmth late at night when you were cold. You rather be in bed with someone else,” Y/N stated, strongly at first, then quickly wavering as her emotions led her to think to a place she rarely went to voluntarily. 

His mind flashed back to the countless events where he witnessed her sleeping body draped over the couch living room, waiting for him in the late hours of the night in hopes of sharing a civil conversation with him. Harry could recall himself huffing in annoyance, having to grab a blanket from the storage closet to cloak on her. At that point, he didn’t know if it was decency that made him act that way or if there were lurking feelings hidden in his hard exterior. 

“I feel like such a fool. I feel so guilty of being me because you would distance yourself rather than talking to me about it!”

“I never meant to make you feel that way,” His palms grasped the retaining warmth her hands left, having long since slipped from his hold to fist at her thighs in exaggerated murmurs. They sat on the sofa a few feet apart, an invisible string connecting them to each other. 

“Waiting for you to call me because you needed me, because you missed me, because you wanted to hear my voice is one of the most painful things I have ever had to go through. At least let me know if you still wanted me around.”

“But I do want you around!” He retorted, almost offended that she said those words to him. Her head looked down at the carpet beneath her feet, silently mulling over the words she was to say next. “I still love you,”

Their cries turned into whispers as Y/N smiled sadly, peeking at him with silky eyes as tears threatened to escape her waterline. She shuffled closer, seeing his Adam’s apple bob in his throat in a difficult swallow. Her soft hands brushed the stray curls falling near his face, her thumb caressing his quivering cheekbones as Harry tensed and untensed his jaw nervously. Y/N tilted her head to the side, admiring his features with the most longing and loving eyes he had ever seen. His eyes burned through, she could tell that the curiosity was killing him. 

The moment she made direct eye contact with him-- he felt a surge of warmth overtake his body, butterflies flying all over his tummy and his heart thumped a little faster. She felt like home to him. 

“There was a time when I looked into your eyes and felt so happy,” Her breath hit the tip of his nose, the closeness intimidating him but it didn’t seem to affect her any longer. 

His brows furrowed, “What do you feel now?” 

She gave him a gentle smile, coldness slowly crawling up his spine.

“Sadness. Disappointment.”

A lone tear slipped down his cheek, the pad of her thumb flushing it away, making his skin glisten with the salty liquid. His eyes searched for a sense of reassurance aside from the deteriorating words she used to describe what it felt like to be with him. The desperation he held deepened, his eyes fluttering close in a stuttered breath. His eyelashes dampened with more tears, making it wet and uncomfortable.

“I thought we were gonna make it,”

Harry's throat tightened up, his esophagus constricting with a certain tightness that reverberated to his stomach which was swirling in coils of springing uncertainty and doubt. Truth is, the action of sleeping with other women never really satisfied him. There was still a hole in his heart aching to be filled, to feel complete was something never came easy to anyone, really. 

“We can still make it,”

“Can we?” Y/N’s voice wavered as she blinked her eyes closed, a tear gently sloping down the curve of her cheek. Her lip was sore from being bitten by her teeth, a gnawing action that occurred from the inside to the outside. Harry’s chin quivered, a sob preparing to rip through the confines of his mouth. A strained cry, raw from the base of his throat and embedded deep within his chest. 

------

Harry remembers the mornings after he willingly gave his body to someone else aside from Y/N: the sunlight stabbing straight through his closed eyelids, the dream-like haze bottling his thoughts and feelings in an enchantment that chanted ‘everything was going to be fine’, everything was going to be the same when he came home. Y/N would always be there with her arms wide open in a gesture for a much-needed hug. His head would pound as if it belonged to someone else because his thinking was muzzled to bits and pieces, barely knowing who he was anymore. 

There was absolutely nothing to be gained from sleeping with one woman after another. Aside, from quelling the spurt of arousal taking over his body, the longevity of the action did nothing in the long run. It tired Harry out and made him disgusted with himself more times than he can count. Those women questioned his every touch, instructing him to touch them this way, to kiss them softer, to stop thinking and start feeling the caressing touches of skin-on-skin contact. The excitement of a stranger exploring his body while he retaliated the same conduct was once an idea that had Harry ready to bolt out of Y/N’s arms in a second. 

He wished he could turn back time. Y/N never made demands; all she wanted was his attention, his affection, hugs and kisses and her body swarmed with endless grazes, tracing the stretches of skin that gleamed in the early hours of the morning. His fingertips pressured the imperfections of her body, hair tickling the calves of her legs as the sheets whispered a barrier between their bodies. His chest attached to her back, his lips pressing pecks along the valley of her shoulder, the base of her neck, nuzzling his nose at the nape where her scent was the strongest. 

Harry missed when they explored each others’ bodies in the darkness. There was nothing to be said, no words needed to be spoken between the two of them when their mouths attached to each other in a dazed spell, alluring both of them to give everything they had to the person that meant everything to them. Harry was ashamed to admit that at one point, Y/N ceased to be the one that meant everything to him. For a moment, she was a silver trophy, forgotten and left collecting dust on the shelf. The second best. The back-up. 

Her cry was the saddest sound of orgasm that he had ever heard and it slit his heart with thin slices knowing that although he was the reason for the pleasure coursing through her body, the pain was still floating like a soapy bubble encompassing her entire being, leaving her trapped to subdue herself with artificial happiness until Harry returned home to her. And it went on, the desperation fuming the atmosphere, Y/N’s hesitant hands trembling against the expanse of his stomach as if she didn’t know his body anymore. Her lips working against his as if inexperience littered the skin of her mouth because he changed too much and she didn’t know how he moved anymore. He was an unfamiliar person but her body reached out to him continuously. It went on until Y/N couldn't physically bring herself closer to his without recoiling a few steps back to avoid the stench of the sweet perfume wafting from his clothes, without her stomach gurgling with disgust at the thought of where his hands had been; Couldn’t help but wonder where his heart is now. 

And Harry went on with the robotic schedule to routinely fuck her because he had to. Not because he craved the way she tasted or missed the way she folded herself for him, but because that was what couples did, right? They made time for each other, became intimate and made love while reassuring whispers were exchanged between them. That was the case until he stopped listening. Her wails punctured the hollow in his chest and he couldn’t bear it anymore. He stopped trying, he paused his efforts. He was only doing the bare minimum and without that-- they had nothing. 

Harry didn’t want to but it was all he could do. His body was hungering for other people to fill the void, the lost love that vanished in a moment. Still, Harry thought about Y/N. Her silhouette against the blinding rays of sun catapulting past the curtain in the early morning, her naked body outlined by the moon in the darkness. The soft curve of her lashes tickling the patch of hair on his chin when Y/N looked up at him with so much love and adoration. The sound of the rain pattering on the rooftop, racing past the window and forming a puddle at the ground.

His heart melted with the knowledge of receiving a type of love that rarely ever occurred. A love that sheathed itself with blue cotton candy, clouds of sugary sweetness drifting up to his tilted nose. The softness of the treat skimming his skin like light footsteps, doing everything in its power to leave his heart beating calmly. Until water appeared and saturated their love, disappearing into nothing in a blink of an eye. 

___

There was a lot that Y/N didn’t understand, a lot that she didn’t know. There were so many things that drifted in her mind, incoherent thoughts and incomplete ideas scattered along with her brain. It would take time to organize a million things in an orderly manner. And by then, she didn’t know if it would be too late. Harry hurt her but Y/N was not innocent. They hurt each other in order to fix something that wasn’t profoundly broken; just dented and needing a little tender loving care.

She wanted to dismantle his heart. Tear it. Crush it to bits until it sprinkled heartbreak over their shared bed. Until then, Y/N could finally breathe again. But she couldn’t get herself to do it; she loved him too much to hurt Harry intentionally.

What hell am I doing?

Y/N repeated the question over and over until it became a part of her. Previously, she wouldn’t have thought of doubting her actions. The confidence she carried herself with glazed the mountains of doubts blocking her path. Not once did she regret a decision she made because Y/N knew that she would learn from it one way or another. 

The time she spent being with Harry was one of the most joyous moments of her life. Images of grandeur slipping past her lids to remember the laughter echoing between the two of them, the smiles being larger than life like two twin sunflowers dancing against the gentle breeze of the field. 

With Harry, Y/N experienced heartbreaking pain and suffocating sadness. Tall, ocean waves submerging her in the twilight zone leaving her with no choice but to kick her feet up and try to escape but salty liquid drowned her all around. It felt like there was no escape until she accepted the reality and simply just floated. The buoyancy of her body guided her to a ray of golden light and she tried hard to ignore it because the pain and sorrow were something that she had gotten used to. 

Without vulnerability, they had nothing. It was the base for connection. The part where fear and shame dissolved into thin air because acceptance was what everybody craved for.

With Harry, she let herself be seen. She was vulnerable and honest and skinned to the bone with secrets that she shared with him. Her heart was whole with the amount of love she gave and the abundance she received. She loved him until the end even when there were no more signs of reassurance that the feelings were mutual. She believed that she was enough until he decided that she wasn’t anymore and found someone else, taking her heart with him and crushing it in a fist. 

With Harry, she practiced gratitude and leaned into joy, never having a dull moment in fear of good things ending because they do. Everything has an end; even the bad things. 

With Harry, she learned to scream and voice out her thoughts, never leaving a stone unturned so that honesty was always in transparency. 

With Harry, she stopped screaming and started listening. To him and his obvious need for distance. To him and his silent pleads to leave him alone. To him and his evaporating love, reeking into the air with bittersweet goodbyes. 

Furthermore, she started listening to herself.

What did she want? 

What did she deserve?

___

Her query was answered only a week later when she spoke to him again. Harry’s eyes were filled with the same unbearable sadness that she used to feel whenever Y/N stared at her reflection in the mirror

“Will I ever see you again?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders in a loose answer, smiling the slightest bit as the air started engulfing her lungs a little easier. “Maybe”

Harry shook his head in denial, curls sticking to his temples and damp cheeks while some strands followed suit with the direction of his head shaking, muttering soft ‘no’s’ in repeated action as if it would help him contain her from slipping past the opened door. But his hands were buttery and his fingertips were burned raw.

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you. I’m just not ready,” Y/N answered in a rehearsed manner, having spent the previous days deciphering what she truly wanted to say. If there was anything that she would take from Harry, it would be the value of honesty. “The moment I do, I’ll reach out to you. Give you an update,”

Harry stood unmoving, feet planted on the entryway. He could do nothing but listen to her silky voice comforting the turmoil boiling in his belly and the missiles launching in his head. “P-please,”

“Maybe we can get to know each other better,”

Was that where their love failed? Was it because they didn’t truly know each other so well that their unknown differences slowly crept up on their seemingly perfect relationship? 

As perfect as it gets, Y/N savoured the times when it was just them against the world; she never would have thought that her closest ally would betray her. She never would have thought that her own self would walk away when she promised him that she would stick it through.

‘Make it through the end’, whenever that is. 

_____

whew.

_____

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[dramarising-replacement]

G1 Hoarder Revamp and the Mountain of Salt

Can we all just acknowledge how much of a total fuck up the new G1 ping system is? I feel bad because they obviously went through so much work and beta testing for this system but it’s absolutely garbage in practice. This isn’t meant as a huge roast (even though I do think the creators could do with getting knocked down a few pegs given how poorly they’ve treated people through this entire process, oops) but I hope they at least see this and see things that they can work on. Obviously, going to them and sharing this stuff in person isn’t possible since L from arcane is notorious for gossiping and overall not super trustworthy, so anon route we go. I’ll give credit where credit is due: they definitely tried to go on the right path and the coding is good in theory. The big issue here is that they tried to fix something that was not great but worked with something that is not great and barely works. Sure there are some good things about the new ping system: if it’s not busy it’s not longer than six or seven minutes to do all of it for a few dragons, which, compared to the previous method? Pretty good timing. Helps automatically tag some colorgroups without having people confused about if their dragon counts or not, and uh... probably something else. The cons far outweigh the pros though: -sheet can only be used one at a time: terrible in theory, terrible in practice, there’s no queue system either so you’re not even guaranteed to go next even if you’ve been waiting ages. This becomes a nightmare around any holiday, as we’ve seen around notn, since everyone flocks to the ping generator and then quickly abandons after seeing the mess there. This should have been something that they found a way to work with from the start, especially since the previous spreadsheet, despite how long it took to sift through if you were actually assed to do all the specifics, could still be used by multiple people. -userface issues: going into the spreadsheet and it may all just be blank, does this mean someone’s using it? Someone isn’t? If you go ahead and assume not you’re going to get warned that you overrode someone since they get the ID to your dragon, if you don’t assume then you end up waiting for ages like an idiot and someone else swoops up the opportunity. The loading bar on the side doesn’t help give that info either since it constantly reloads due to the poorly planned code. Where users have their cells selected also doesn’t help since that isn’t always accurate. There are many times where the loading bar isn’t seen going, there isn’t any visible text on the screen, no comment in the box, but it’s still in use. This isn’t viable for anyone, especially not people who don’t fully understand how the system works. If you’re going to make it for only one person’s use at a time, you need to ensure it’s easier to see what’s going on for everyone. -laggy as all get out: sure, I don’t have to go through 15 pages of different types of pings on the old G1 pinglist and shovel through all the duplicates and specifics list people, but having more than 13 dragons or even doing a bigger lair sale (or even just anything during notn) means you get to wait for the program to chug away for ages (as well as the easy chance for someone to just cut in halfway through a load and have you start all over again or wait) and hope that the three people behind you don’t get impatient or angry as you have to do three separate input sessions rather than massing them all together as you could with the previous spreadsheet. -poorly designed aesthetically: maybe this may sound petty to some, but the design of the system is pretty terrible in terms of layout and color choice. This isn’t to say it’s just ugly though; after speaking about it with people who aren’t neurotypical, have disordered thinking processes, and/or have generalized issues reading things (autism spectrum, dyslexia, semi-visually impaired, etc.) it’s pretty clear that the entire thing is not accessible whatsoever for anyone who can’t immediately decipher what anything is. Black text on bright red is not a good thing for most people beyond old MySpace edgies. If you, as someone without reading or comprehension difficulties, are having a difficult time focusing on it: maybe consider how difficult it’d be for anyone else. The way the rules or tutorial section is laid out also does not help in terms of accessibility! It’s clunky and hard to read, does not flow well, and doesn’t explain as thoroughly as you may think. If you’re someone who uses coded spreadsheets often? Yeah sure, it might be understood. If you’re not? Welp. Good luck kiddo. -very poor user help: this is on the mods or creators more than the spreadsheet itself. If someone has a problem, the first thing you should do is talk with them to find the difficulty and tackle it from there. I’ve seen, multiple times now, where either N (plague) or L (arcane) straight up tell people that they can’t help them and that they should just read the guide on the front page. Like sure, they read them, but something is tricky for them and they’re asking for help. They can read the rules and guide again but without outside help, guess what? Not gonna help them. If you just keep linking them the forum or telling them to read the first page it won’t actually help anyone! One of your jobs as the creators here is to help the community that you made it for, not just parrot that they need to read. Be better. Add that to a system which is not forgiving of any mistakes whatsoever and it becomes a terrible little cocktail. Also does not help that, despite their sugar attitude about having people test it in discord servers, the creators l and r/p (both arcane) don’t actually help people who need help using it. -wait times/queue: this ties in to an earlier point, but there’s no way to organize who goes next. Sure, it might sound strange, but when you have to wait ages to get access despite you being there ahead of anon llama/drama/dingdong/animal because they can all hop in ahead of you, it becomes frustrating. People don’t always type in that itty bitty box to say what they’re doing, and people easily erase it or write over it, or they just outright ignore it. Obviously not everyone is going to do that, but it’s way too easy for people who are greedy/entitled to step over those who are being polite and patient. -no quick ping options this is also kind of minor, but at least with the old spreadsheet you could just click in and say “okay, I just want to ping XXY general for this because I have a quick sale.” Guess what: nah. You have to go through the entire chugging process and queue and everything else just to get that snippet of information on who to ping. What once took maybe five clicks is now five minutes to thirty depending on how many people are using it. Wanna quick check if a dragon with XYZ colours you hatched is one that someone wants specifically? Nah, fuck you. You have to input all the data and wait instead of just doing what was once a super easy quick search. There is so much other shit wrong with this system and I’m honestly surprised N (plague) allowed them to do this. Sure, the old pinglist could have done with some updating, but that should have been done in the form of clearing redundant double pings, maybe a way to sort through specifics like ‘male only’ and mass copy names there. Quality of life things, not this just... total mess. I understand that L and R/P got it into their heads that they needed to fix it and that they wanted to take over the entire system themselves, but they should have kept their pride out of it for once. The sheet to input what dragons you want is also another entire nightmare. It’s frustrating to go through the google poll a dozen times to say exactly what colors/eyes/gender/pasta-shape/siesta-fiesta under the sun you want rather than have a quick way to input it by drop-downs or even just a text based option like the old one had. It’s so easy to forget what you put in or which one you want to put in this time, so easy to end up making mistakes that you don’t see, etc. It’s just not an effective system. It’s great in theory, and sure, it’s all sparkly and new, but it’s like admiring an aluminum trash can. Shiny and sparkly under the sun, still holding a whole lot of hot garbage though. I understand that some people may find it easier, and that’s great! I’ve used it for a few things and yeah, it’s okay, but I wish the old one was back given all the grief and frustration this one has caused. Obviously I’m not in the place to be like DO THIS OR DO THAT since I’m not the one making the sheet here, but I do feel like the people who use it have every right to give commentary and feedback where possible. Even moreso when the creators and team aren’t actually as welcoming as they try to appear to be. As much as it sucks, a lot of L and R/P’s (primarily L) false niceties have kind of come to the surface lately which makes this whole situation just that much more awkward. If people don’t feel like they can approach you because they know you’ll rip into them here or on the anon site immediately, maybe you shouldn’t be a main creator of something for the user base or a mod for a bigger group. Just some side-thought to all this other stuff. Big post, big rambles, I can’t bring myself to organise it though because I’m pretty fed up and tired. Take from this what you may, but basically fix your shit new G1 Hoarder peeps.

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

When Our Hands Next Meet

Series summary: Soulmates are given memories of their past lives when their hands touch. For Virgil and Logan, each memory is happier than the last.

This series was created for @analogicalweek and made in collaboration with the lovely @birdsongisland! Please go look at the wonderful art that inspired this work and support them with reblogs so their work can be seen!

Credit to birdsongisland for beta reading this as well, they helped make it flow a lot better.

Chapter 6: Mirror Our Past with a Better Future

Chapter Summary: Virgil didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky being able to work with Logan in stars tailoring shop. All he knew is Logan made him feel beautiful, inside and out. 

Day 5 Prompt: Past/Future

Warnings: none. If there are any please let me know!

WC: 1918

AO3 link

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @ace-in-a-shopping-cart @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @logans-library @im-an-anxious-wreck @edupunkn00b

Logan leaned back in stars stool, a quirk to stars lips as star eyed the newest frock up and down. It wasn’t a style star usually went for- elegant and flowing as it was star much preferred a lot more poof and edge when it came to dress design. Carefully taking the pins from stars mouth back into the container star took another look at stars sketch. Long, delicate looking fabric swung off the hips and just barely brushed the floor. star hadn’t added color but star knew that it faded from a rich purple to a smoky black at the bottom, trimmed with a slight frill that made it swirl across the floor. The medium scoop neck flared out into puffed sleeves that gathered at the ends to grip the wrists. star had already made the deeper purple corset covered in a delicate lace, with shining false buckles lining the front and black ribbon that actually laced it in the back.

Looking down at stars own slightly oversized jumper paired with a medium length skirt and boots laced up to stars knees star couldn’t help but laugh softly. This was definitely a far cry from what star ever thought star would wear, let alone make. Somehow though, star knew star wasn’t going to be the one wearing it, and thankfully working alone in the shop meant star could afford a side project without tripping up anyone else. Typically with more elaborate projects like this star would make a prototype first, of a slightly less fancy design, and make sure all the kinks and possible uncomfortable spots were worked out of the design and made into something star could be proud of selling. Ever since star had taken over the tailoring shop star had been working towards a single goal- making things people could feel comfortable in. But with this- it had sat in stars brain for not even a day before star had finally relented and sketched it out and set to work immediately picking out the perfect fabric for it. 

Taking the needle back up star leaned close to gather the waist as carefully as star could, quick fingers moving skillfully to the tune star was quietly humming. This would certainly take a while, but star had a feeling it would be worth it.

-----

Virgil leaned back in his stool, a smile on his lips as he looked the newest frock up and down. It was stunning like everything Logan made was and he found himself caught by how grateful he was to be sitting with stars, listening to stars quiet humming as star worked diligently. He knew star used to work here alone so he was always grateful to be allowed to sit with star. It was a simple thing, far from his usual somewhat dramatic style but Logan had assured him it would look nice so he had eventually resented. Folding his legs underneath him he only smiled further at the concerned look he was given, waving it off but putting one leg back down as a compromise. He assumed the quiet huff meant he had won and settled down even further to continue admiring the other work.

The skirt was gathered at the waist and slightly poofy from the petticoat layer underneath purple plaid dominated the pattern with black accents that broke it up nicely. Swinging his current jean-clad leg he began softly humming along to the tune Logan had been repeating, harmonizing low so it wouldn’t be too much of a distraction. He beamed as Logan shot him a smile- Virgil never could resist it- and looked away with a small blush to observe the rest of the shop. It was quiet today thankfully, the emptiness being a welcome reprieve from the chaos of yesterday. There had been a slight scheduling error which meant nearly everyone had come to get their orders at the same time, clamoring for places in line while the two frantically ran back and forth trying to shove everything in boxes as neatly as they could before shooing the clients out the door and tending to the next. As good a business day as it was they had been exhausted afterwards and the day spent with just the two of them was helping to melt away the lingering anxiety.

His smile turned soft again while watching Logan carefully pin along a seam, admiring the years of skill built into the movements. He remembered the first time he had walked into the store- not realized Logan had made nearly everything there- and being awestruck at the realization of how much time and care was put into every project. This one would most likely still take a while but he had a feeling it would be worth it.

-----

Logan perked stars head up as the bell chimed at the door, managing to get one last stitch in before standing and making stars way out of the workroom. Stepping out star could just barely see a shock of purple hair moving between the racks, piquing stars curiosity enough to smooth down stars choppy, self cut mullet and make stars way over. star caught the other’s eye as star approached and star made sure to offer a kind smile to the obviously uncomfortable customer. They were gripping a couple different dress sleeves and worrying the fabric between their fingers as they shuffled their feet awkwardly.

star offered stars hand to shake, trying valiantly to be polite and not suggest a fidget cube instead for the nervous tic. “Hello, I’m Logan, star/stars pronouns please. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Virgil...he/him.” He didn’t take stars hand so Logan retracted it easily. Some people were weary of soulmates, preferring not to touch anyone’s hand before they were ready and Logan could respect that. “I uh- I like your skirt. I kinda miss wearing them so I was just browsing.”

“Is there a particular style you’re looking for?”

Licking his lips Virgil nervously glanced through the various styles on the rack, mumbling low enough Logan had to strain to hear. “No...I’m not really sure I should be wearing them anymore- just wanted to look.”

Oh. Logan knew where this person was coming from, star had felt the same way when stars pronouns had changed- wanting to pass as...well decidedly not feminine but missing the garments star had made and worn nearly all stars life. Offering an understanding smile, star turned and began sifting through the colors to try and find something simple he might be comfortable trying. “You just have to find something you’re confident in.”

-----

Virgil slid off the stool as he heard the bell chime, motioning to Logan that he could take care of it and making his way to the front of the store. Blowing his purple hair out of his eyes in a vain attempt  to make it look more presentable he caught sight of someone's back to him as they browsed the racks nearest to the front of the store. Leaning against the counter he made sure to make a bit of noise before speaking up so as not to startle them. “May I help you find something?”

Throwing a smile over their shoulder they held up a comfortable looking blouse triumphantly and made their way over. “Already found it!” 

Smiling at the cheerful customer he quickly rang them up and handed them their bag, waving as they left as he thought back to when he had first stepped foot through the doors. He wished he had had even half of that person’s confidence back then, instead if he remembered correctly he had nearly had a nervous breakdown over a skirt. Screwing his mouth to one side he turned on his heel and walked back into the workroom, hands on his hips as he stood next to Logan and leaned his head on stars shoulder. “You’re gonna go cross eyes if you keep squinting like that.”

Rolling stars eyes only to wince immediately after star consented and stuck the needle in a safe spot where it wouldn’t fall out. “I’m almost done anyway. Just need to patch up this side, I didn’t cut it straight enough to lay right.”

Pressing a kiss to stars cheek Virgil looked at the garment with barely contained excitement. “I love it already.”

“I just want to make you something you’ll be confident in.” Virgil smiled hearing the phrase he had heard so many years ago, remembering the effort star had gone through to find something he would like.

-----

“Come out when you’re ready.” Logan called as star hung the already discarded pieces back on the rack. Biting stars lip star glanced at stars workroom in thought. Technically the dress was done and star was sure Virgil would look beautiful in it but star wasn’t sure he’d be comfortable in something so fancy right now. Looking back as Virgil came out with the skirt hung over his arm the decision was made for stars. 

“Wait here.” Shooting him a smile star left to quickly tie off the last of the stitching and tug the dress off the mannequin, grabbing up the corset as star passed through the door. Virgil’s eyes blew wide when he saw the dress, immediately going to protest but getting quickly shushed as the pile of fabric was shoved into his arms. “Go change it’s fine! I need someone to model it anyway!”

A few minutes passed during which Logan nervously worried at the skin around stars thumb, hoping star hadn’t pushed the man too far. When star finally heard the door creak and turned towards virgil however, all the nervous tension drained away leaving nothing but quiet awe.

“Oh,” star said simply. 

The realization earned star a puzzled look but the brief confusion did nothing to wipe away the brilliant smile on his face. The dress fit perfectly, the ends of the flowing skirt hitting the floor just so and the deep purple contrasting nickel with his pale features. The corset smoothed out his curves while still framing him wonderfully and Logan could swear there was air in the room just a moment ago but all star could do was gape stupidly at the radiance before him.

“I must have been making that for you,” star said quietly. “You look stunning.”

Blushing profusely, Virgil raised one of his hands. “I couldn’t get the buttons…”

“Allow me.” Logan was careful to avoid making contact with his skin as star looped the buttons. Pausing suddenly as memory after happy memory flooded stars thoughts star looked down to see one finger curled tentatively around stars own, glancing back up to see Virgil smiling softly.

“I had a feeling.” He offered sheepishly.

Logan smiled, squeezing his hand in stars. “So did I.”

-----

“Come out when you’re ready!” Virgil heard Logan call for him and gave himself one last once over before deeming himself presentable. He ducked out of the dressing room giddily and twirled for his audience of one, cheeks aching from the wideness of his smile as he rubbed the fabric between his fingers excitedly. 

“It fits perfectly!” He watched as Logan smiled and reached for his hand, happily taking it and squeezing. 

“You look absolutely stunning.” Blushing at the compliment he leaned forward to rest his head against the others chest, drinking in stars presence and relaxing against stars.

“I love you.” He offered quietly.

Smiling, Logan enveloped him in a gentle hug. “So do I.”

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