#so instead I ramble and ramble and hope you guys forgive me for how long-winded I can be :'D

[seyaryminamoto]

As someone, who's favourite character is Zuko, let me just say that your analysis about the Southern Raiders is spot on. Something about that episode (especially the way Zuko acted) always felt a little... off to me. And I could never figure out what it was exactly and considering the fact that discussion about this episode centered around the Kataang vs Zutara, I thought I was the only one who felt that way. So, I guess thanks for putting my thoughts into words.

Oh, I really feel ya, anon. If you actually don't look at the episode from a shipping point of view, which seems to be the focus of most the fandom, a lot of unpleasant things really start sticking out. I'm personally neutral to the Kataang vs. Zutara debate, I see good points and drawbacks to both ships, and no one's going to convince me that this episode proved the superiority of either pairing, especially when the shipping interpretations have never been important to me when analyzing this episode. People can say Aang is right in the end, they can say Zuko understands Katara's plight better (which, considering Aang has lost even more people he loved than Zuko has, he certainly should have understood Katara's suffering quite well too), but focusing on whether Zuko or Aang are the angel or the devil on Katara's shoulders practically blinds everyone to the very glaring and mindboggling flaws in this episode's writing, imo.

In general, the concept of Zuko's life-changing field trips with the three Gaang members he'd wronged the most is fine and fun for most people, but from the first time I watched the show it felt like the production team knew they were pressed for time and needed some veeeery quick and effective solution for Zuko to gain acceptance in the Gaang ASAP despite all the bad blood there. I can imagine a lot of people love these episodes, but admittedly I wouldn't rank any of them among my favorites because, as interesting as some of their concepts could be, if executed right, my immersion certainly wasn't as strong as with the rest of the show due to the nagging feeling that this was all for the sake of redeeming Zuko in the eyes of each Gaang member... and not necessarily in the eyes of the audience.

They get away with it, of course, because by this point in time, the audience is 100% conditioned to love the Gaang and Zuko, and if you see them getting along, you should be rejoicing in their team-up... but if you put some emotional distance between yourself as a viewer and the events of these episodes, their writing leaves a lot to be desired, especially in the concept of giving Zuko a quick whitewashing in the eyes of Aang, Sokka and Katara, one after the other, so they can genuinely accept him as a teammate and friend. If we'd seen similar trips frequently or occasionally in the rest of the show, with two specific members of the team taking off on an adventure by themselves, it might not be so glaringly obvious (and even... artificial? I guess?) that they're trying to quick-redeem him for each of them here, but on top of it happening thrice, it's literally happening one after the other, too. There's no episodes in-between, it's just literally a four-parter arc of "let's help Zuko become friends with these three".

The plotlines to be dealt with in these episodes are basically catered to each Gaang member, tailor-made life-changing field trips based on whatever they'll value the most, all of it conveniently possible and doable in the span of time they have between Zuko's joining of their group and the show's finale. Aang needs to learn firebending, Sokka needs to save his dad, Katara is permanently grieving for her mother's death. And so, Zuko to the rescue! If he helps them with their personal character quests, he gets 50+ approval points! :'D Honestly, I'm absolutely not against the notion of Zuko befriending them, obviously not, but the methods through which they chose to make it happen simply might not be the finest...?

Zuko loses his ability to bend because he "lost his rage", but he's still angry pretty often, the show even spoofs its own writing by showing him losing his patience at Sokka... while at the same time trying to sell that Zuko "isn't angry" anymore? Zuko helps break out random prisoners from the Boiling Rock without taking a single moment to actually learn who they are, why they were locked up, and without pondering if they deserve to be helped or if perhaps they're genuinely dangerous? Zuko gives Katara every possible tool and information she needs to take revenge on Yon Rha, because, loosely quoting his own words, he "cares what she thinks of him"...?

How about if we'd seen Zuko trying to connect with Fire Nation people, to help his fellow Fire Nation citizens, especially the ones who were living in dreadful conditions, like the ones in the Jang Hui river village? How about if we'd seen Zuko saving lives rather than threatening to take them? How about if we'd seen Zuko actually reasoning with his anger, and either working his way out of it, or repurposing it consciously, or making legitimate, personal efforts to find a new source of strength for his firebending through self-reflection, above all else?

We didn't really need sudden one-on-one field trips to teach Aang, Katara and Sokka to trust Zuko: we needed Zuko to prove himself worthy of that trust, to show how much he has changed, to literally contrast his new behavior with the old, to actually see that the guy no longer jumps into violence-mode 24/7, that he's willing to listen to other people's opinions or wisdom, that he wants to learn better when he knows he's misguided or misunderstanding something or another. Would he have become BFFs with any of them in four episodes if this had happened? Well, it definitely would have happened with Aang, the other two would have been trickier, but they definitely would have been more willing to accept him if they actually got to SEE that the changes in Zuko weren't skin-deep. Katara can be as thick-headed and stubborn as she may want to be, but I have no doubts she wouldn't have been able to hate Zuko as much as she used to if she'd seen him helping people, much like she often wants their group to do. But instead, they don't get to see the actual changes and growth... they just get their biggest goals and wishes satisfied, and that's enough to decide Zuko's trustworthy, no matter whatever sketchy behavior he displays in later episodes.

I absolutely appreciate the worldbuilding context we gain for the raids on the Water Tribe through The Southern Raiders, but I don't think this was an organic way to tell the story of how Zuko became friends with the Gaang. If pressed, I'd even say that Zuko's overt desperation to be their friend is OOC, to a degree: if this guy actually knows how dangerous his father's plans are (and he's supposed to :'D), how isn't he focusing on that side of things, when he's always been such a go-getter? It's not like he grew out of this sort of ends-justify-the-means behavior, seeing as he's absolutely obsessed with stopping his father ASAP, by any means possible, in the finale, when there was no such urgency to be found ever since he joined the Gaang. How isn't he more worried about stopping Ozai than about becoming best friends with the Gaang? Immediately sharing everything he's learned about Ozai's intentions of destroying the whole world might not make them friends instantaneously, but it would certainly get someone like Sokka to take his information seriously and immediately begin strategizing how to counter Ozai's plans. Instead, Zuko spent all those weeks, over a month, even, teaching Aang firebending, going on field trips and hanging out with his new friends in Ember Island. Once you have all the cards on deck and you actually look at all of them at once, doesn't it feel like there were so many more ways to achieve what the show was going for, far more effective ways than through the "let's be friends with Zuko" arc?

Ultimately, there's very little display of growth, in my opinion, in this small arc, on Zuko's side, despite the most obvious and reasonable way to earn the trust of the Gaang would be by outright showing them how much he's grown. I won't deny I appreciate that the writers respected his personality and didn't just warp him into the perfect good softboi the way the fandom apparently interprets him, but even if Zuko was going to be cranky and speak one-liners like "I'm never happy", it wasn't impossible to write better situations for him to connect with the Gaang's members and gain their trust. Even if the writers were set on having these episodes happen exactly as they did, they absolutely could have been written in a much better way, to create an explicit and direct contrast between Zuko's early behavior and the new Zuko's behavior when it comes to things that matter (most the parallels I've seen the fandom drawing are things like "oh look he hated tea before but now he brews it for his friends! So much growth!"... would've been nice to see the growth when it came to a lot of other things, too, if the growth really was there? Am I rite...?).

I may just be influenced by other redemption arcs that focus mainly on characters having common goals and working together to achieve them, then becoming friends in the process... but I really don't see how Zuko's character benefited from these episodes. Yes, bridges were built... but they absolutely could have been built in a more organic way that didn't make people like myself (and a few others) question if Zuko had learned or grown at all, considering the way he behaves isn't all that distant from the Zuko we've seen and known throughout the rest of the show. And the fact that he really seems to have learned nothing in The Southern Raiders once you reach the show's finale... you're basically asked to take for granted Zuko did learn a lot of lessons because he says he did, to assume he's going to put them into practice sometime in the future despite he has chances to do it during the show itself but never does, simply because they drop the ball upon every opportunity to show how much he's changed.

I really don't blame his character at all, when it comes to these shortcomings... it's seriously, genuinely, a problem with the writing department. Take a look through the fandom and you'll see thousands of people who claim Zuko's character arc is the most touching, complex and beautiful writing they ever have seen... and why? Because we're in the face of tell-don't-show :'D most people's perception of Zuko's character are based not so much on HOW Zuko displays his growth, it's strongly based on him stating he made progress, even if there's too many instances where the growth simply seems to have fallen to the wayside or gone forgotten for the sake of a plotline or another. Zuko absolutely could have been written far better than this, he could absolutely have the redemption arc his fans are sure he does have, but for me... there's way too many gaps in logic, too many missed opportunities, to truly think his growth was as extraordinary as a lot of people are hung up on saying it was.

[egcdeath]

act natural

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: sometimes, you just have to share the bed. 

word count: 2.4k

warnings: fluff, sharing a bed, idiots in love, cheesy

a/n: this is really just an excuse for me to write a lot of self indulgent bants, but it’s also a part of @stargazingfangirl18’s soft!dark challenge, and i decided to write something soft and use the prompt of only having one bed! (p.s. i like did not edit this at all so if a few words are used a lot pls forgive me) 

Dinner at the safehouse was finally wrapping up after a long day of getting your ass beat by an angry android and a few enhanced teenagers. You and everyone else around you seemed to be more than exhausted from the extensive day of revisiting deeply repressed traumas, and petty arguments between teammates over who was truly at fault for every predicament you found yourselves in.

You took a long and final swig from a beer bottle, glancing up to Bruce and Nat as they stood up and pushed in their chairs, retiring for the night. 

“Thanks for hosting us, Laura,” Natasha offered, grabbing her plate from the dinner table, and dropping it off in the dishwasher.

“Of course, guys. Any time,” she gave a half smile to her friend, then looked back at the table, where everyone else had taken the memo, and found themselves somewhere in the process of leaving the table, or grabbing their dishes, “but before you all go, I wanted to warn you that someone else is gonna have to share a room tonight.”

You glanced over at Steve, who was on your left, and Tony, who was sat at the head of the table. You and Steve shared an awkward chuckle at the thought of being in the same bed, not even considering the similarly uncomfortable situation of sharing a bed with Tony. 

“I think I’ll be rooming alone. These two lovebirds can share,” Tony chided before either of you even had a chance to think of a response. You looked back over at Steve, whose cheeks were currently dusted with a light shade of pink, and the bigger man quickly looked away from you.

“Tony, you know we are not- you know what, nevermind,” you huffed, deciding the argument was not worth it. 

Tony shook his head as he dropped his dishes off in the dishwasher. “So no objections?” he asked teasingly, eyeing you both with a smirk on his way back from the kitchen. “Why am I not surprised?” You could’ve sworn you heard Clint and Fury laughing to themselves before excusing themselves from the table, and dispursting though the house.

Besides the slight humiliation of being teased for your situation, you weren’t too concerned about the act of spending the night, or next few nights with Steve. You and Steve were friends, or something like that. Just a few pals with crushes that you refused to admit to each other (or yourselves).

Pushing this thought aside, you grabbed the neck of your empty beer bottle, along with a few pieces of silverware and marched off to the mechanical cleaner yourself. You dropped off the things that needed to be cleaned, tossed your bottle in the recycling bin, then went to turn away when Steve grabbed your arm, automatically catching your attention. 

“Is this okay with you?” He asked, letting his vice grip on your arm go.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you upstairs,” you muttered before speeding off, and heading upstairs where you strolled into the only vacant room, with the door wide open, and both your own and Steve’s duffle bags on the floor. 

You made a mental note to thank whoever brought them in (probably Laura), and dug through your bag to find something even slightly comfortable to sleep in, eventually settling on an oversized shirt and your favorite cotton shorts. 

You had just barely finished changing in the tiny closet when you heard the soft click of the room door, notifying you of Steve’s arrival. You slid open the closet door, and made a beeline for the bed, flopping onto the left side, and reaching for your phone as a distraction. 

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” Steve asked, searching through his own bag until he found the only clean comfortable pair of pants he had in there, that just happened to be a jokey Christmas gift donned with a red white and blue color scheme, and graphics of mini shields on it.  

“What the hell, Steve. Of course not,” you set your phone down so that you could get a better look at him. “We probably have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” You could live with that excuse, especially considering that it would not be very becoming of you to tell your crush that missing an opportunity to sleep in the same bed as him feels like a federal crime. 

He stood up from his squatting position, squeezing into the tight space of the closet so that he could change into the corny pants, and finally get out of his clothes from the day, “I just didn’t want to make things weird.”

“Well, they won’t be as long as you stay on your side, okay?” You said petulantly, setting two pillows across the middle of the queen sized bed and attempting to ignore the excited butterflies in your stomach. 

“I will,” Steve responded, exiting the closet slipping into the right side of the bed cautiously, and looking at the wall that was facing him.

You glanced over at Steve, and when you caught wind of his shirtless torso, you couldn’t help but to look away with a warm face,“this is so awkward now,” you said after a beat. “Why couldn’t you have roomed with Tony?”

“Tony is the worst bed mate ever. Total blanket and pillow hog,” Steve chuckled, attempting to ease up some of the tension.

“You’re no saint either. I’ve heard you’re a cuddler,” you bantered back, allowing yourself one more glance at the man. Steve seemed to be having the same thought as you at the same time as you, as your eyes briefly met. 

It was uncomfortably silent in the room once more, and you reached over to your nightstand to turn off the bedside lamp, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Steve,” you turned your back to the border of pillows, fell into a fetal position, and squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that you’d be able to find some sort of peace after such a bizarre day. You tried not to dwell so much on the horrors you’d been forced to face earlier, and instead relied on the rhythmic breathing coming from the man next to you to ground you.

----

You weren’t sure when exactly you fell asleep, but a jolting of your bed, and a bit of a commotion coming from somewhere in your room pulled you away from your unsettling dreams.

Blinking yourself awake, you uncurled your body, and rolled over to look at Steve, whose legs were thrown over the edge of the bed while he panted heavily.

“Steve?” you slurred sleepily, “you ‘kay?”

“’m fine,” he yawned.

“Well you woke me up,” you mumbled, throwing your head back against a pillow.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was having a shitty dream anyway.”

“Really? I was too,” Steve refused to look at you, staring blankly at the wall.

“So tell me about it,” you hummed.

“It’s just… I keep thinking about how I missed out on so many things from the past. I could’ve been happy, living out my days in a semi-peaceful and familiar world. Not anything like this.”

You sat up as you listened, pushing aside a pillow from the border you’d constructed to move closer to Steve and set a reassuring hand on his back.

“I guess I just wish that I was there. With everyone and everything I used to know.”

“But it’s not all bad, right?” you offered, and Steve shrugged before looking down. 

 “I’m sorry. I really am. I know that I’ll never truly understand that, but there’s nothing any of us can do about it now. You’re here now, and you have no other choice but to make the best of it. I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but if you spend all of your time in the present lamenting about what things could’ve been in the past, you’re just gonna be miserable forever,” you rambled sleepily, words slurring occasionally. 

“Your experience is so unique, so I could be getting this all wrong, but there are plenty of good things here in the now. I mean, a world without the internet? I don’t know if that’s a world worth living in,” you chuckled softly, and were joined in your quiet laughter by the man on the other side of your bed.

“Seriously, though. I know you can’t control your dreams, but maybe your subconscious is letting you know that it’s okay to let go. Of like, the past. It might just be time for you to move on and be happy. I’m sure that Peggy and everyone else from your past would’ve wanted that for you too.” In the dark, you saw the silhouette of Steve’s head nodding. 

“You always know what to say, huh?” he asked, kicking his legs back over onto the bed while you scooted back over into your previous space. 

“I’m like half asleep right now, Steve. If you asked me to repeat half of what I just said, I would not know what to say,” you giggled. 

“You wanna talk about your dream?” Steve asked in a concerned tone. 

“Mmm, I actually just wanna go to sleep. As crazy as that may sound,” 

“Is there anything that I can do to help you not have another bad one?”

“Hmmm,” you pondered, becoming a bit more lethargic by the moment. “Spoon me?”

“As you wish,” Steve happily obliged, grabbing one of the pillows from the middle of the bed and adding it to his stash of pillows. 

You threw a pillow from the border between your knees, and received a strange look from Steve. “What? I heard it’s good for your back.” He still didn’t seem convinced. “Stop being so judgy and cuddle me already,” you murmured, turning your body so that you could lay on your side.

Steve scooted closer to you, and you pressed your back to the front of his chest. He tossed an arm over you and somehow managed to pull you even closer to him. You swore you hadn’t been this comfortable since you left the womb, and you nearly purred in response. 

“Can I make a request?” he asked.

You simply nodded.

“Can we just… talk until we fall back asleep?” 

“That’s really cute,” you mumbled into your pillow. 

“You just have a relaxing voice!” he defended playfully.

“You are such a dork,” you giggled. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Just tell me about… I dunno, anything.”

“That was so helpful, Steven.”

“My bad. Tell me about your favorite… mission?”

“Mm, probably that one time you and I had to go undercover for like a month to bust that arms dealer.”

“Which one?”

“Some dude in the Midwest. Can’t remember his name.”

“Oh yeah, yeah I know who you’re talking about.”

“It was fun being your life partner for a month. We were really good at being domestic.”

“Hmm, now that I think about it, we really were. Do you remember that cookout?”

“Of course I do,” you laughed at the memory. “Everyone else was getting so drunk, but you just… couldn’t. They were like Joseph, you’re such a beast, and shit. And who would’ve guessed that you, the old timer would be such a beast on the grill.”

“Well, who would’ve guessed that you were so good at cornhole?”

“Was I really that good? Or were you just really bad? Like really bad, especially for someone whose skill set revolves around having good aim,” you teased.

Steve scoffed and laughed, shaking his head at you. 

“How didn’t those people recognize us? I just don’t get it.”

“You’d be surprised how much a beard and dyed hair can change your look.”

“I guess,” you sighed softly, and set a hand on top of Steve’s. “Does this feel counterproductive to you? We’re just sitting here giggling. We’re probably getting less tired.”

“I guess I am less tired. But I’m also not thinking about the impending robot apocalypse.”

“Well now that you brought it up, I’m thinking about the impending robot apocalypse. You better fix this, Rogers.” Emboldened by what must’ve been the butterflies in your stomach falling asleep, you began to roll a bit in his arms so you were facing each other, kicking away the pillow between your legs in the process. 

“How can I make it up to you?” Steve asked, raising a brow.

“You’re the man with a plan, right? Think of something,” your lip quirked slightly in a smirk.

Steve leaned in just the smallest amount, before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his head. “I got it. We can do one of those one word stories until we fall asleep.”

Well, that’s not exactly how you thought this moment was going to go. 

“Okay, I’ll start then,” you nodded, pressing your head down against a soft pillow, and looking up at Steve, “once.”

“There,” Steve added.

“Was.”

“A.”

“Death-bot,” you giggled. 

“Okay, Y/N. No. No more stories. We can just listen to each other breathe now until we fall asleep like before since you wanna ruin the mood.”

“What mood? And you listened to me breathe?”

“What else was I gonna listen to?” he furrowed his brows, “it’s too late for this anyway. We can talk in the morning.”

“All you had to do was tell me that it’s way past your bedtime, and I would be understanding. But goodnight anyway, Stevie,” you cracked him one last smile, not budging from your position as you closed your eyes. 

It was silent for a few minutes before Steve whispered up out of the blue, “you still awake?”

You slurred something into the pillow, much more asleep than awake. 

“Well, I really like you a lot. Maybe one day I’ll get the guts to tell you that when you’re not completely out of it.”

You grunted as a response, and Steve couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his face, not while he was falling asleep, and certainly not during his rather pleasant dreams.

——

You just couldn’t seem to catch a break with your wake up calls. While you and Steve seemed to sleep through the rapping against the door, and the door itself opening, you both seemed to become aware after the artificial shutter of an iPhone camera flooded through your ears.

“You guys just looked so cute, I wanted to archive this moment for the rest of time. And I’m sure the team will be glad to see that you got along well last night,” Nat teased as your eyes widened and you shot up. “Breakfast is ready downstairs, by the way.”

Well, you two were going to have a great time explaining this one. 

[fa-headhoncho]

Untitled TFATWS Fic: Part 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt/Background: After turning yourself in to the government following the events of CA:TWS, they lock you up for the crimes you committed during your time at Hydra. Spending years there until Captain America got you on parole during the blip to help fight Thanos. Now, after doing community service acts and helping the broken society, when they give the new Captain America the shield, you’re thrown back into a life you didn’t want.

Word Count: 2058

Reader: Female

Warning: parole officers? canon level violence, john walker

Author’s Note: im being lazy and not writing rn but i have a stock pile of fics so get ready for shitty posts :p

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

=====

Once you get onto the plane, you don’t hold back your emotions. The fight was enough but how Walker talked to Sam and Bucky on the car ride over sent you over the edge. You had to admit, the kid had good intentions but there was something about him that was off.

You don’t even wait for his private jet to lift off before turning to him and pinning him against the nearest wall. Your forearm was laying across his chest while the other was hovering over the knife clipped onto your hip. His managers and friend stand up, rushing to try to pry you off of him but he raises a hand to stop them. “Who the hell do you think you fucking are, huh?”

“Captain America.” He simply responds, looking at down you with a cocky smile. You let out a scoff, the audacity of this man. “Look, I didn’t know that you knew them.”

“Yes, you did.” You exclaim while your forearm digs into his chest, “You read my parole reports, it shows where I spend my time and who I talk to, Bucky and Sam being the main two who I interact with. They’re my friends and you’re using me as a pawn. Steve wouldn’t have done that, Captain America wouldn’t have done that.”

“You talk about looking up to him but you’re nothing like him. You throw around ‘brother’ like it means nothing, you have no idea what those two have gone through with Steve. You hold the shield like it’s a toy and using it to get what you want.” Your voice is menacing low and you knew if you still had your parole officer that he would be scolding you for it.

“Captain America stood up for the little guys but you’re just using it as a title, abusing it to act like the hero you tried to be before. You’re a fucking joke.” You release him and walk away. The air in the room felt tense as you plop down on the chair closest to the exit, furthest away from his management team who didn’t know what just happened.

“If you think I’m going to stand by your side after how you just treated my friends, you’re dead fucking wrong.” You shake your head and lean forward in your seat.

He lets out a chuckle, taking a step towards you with his hands fisted by his side. “You’re going to help me if I say you are. I say the words and you’re locked back in the goddamn cell where you belong. Remember who brought you here in the first place.”

“Hey, John, calm down.” Hoskins finally buds in. Walker scoffs and shakes his head, following him to join the rest of their team.

You shift your eyes to the floor, knowing he’s right. The power the government is giving their new Captain is a desperate attempt to give hope to those after the Blip. It’s going straight to his head and you knew it was going to get worse in the long run.

The rest of the flight is awkward. The tension never settling even if Walker acts like nothing just happened. Hoskins was keeping a close eye on you like you were going to bounce back to your Hydra days and take out everyone on the plane. To be fair, you wanted to but you weren’t stupid and you didn’t want to give him another reason to send you back.

Once the plane touches down, you’re out the door. The group was barely out of the seats before they could see you disappear into the airport. Haling a cab and taking it back to the apartment they were renting for you, changing out of your gear and plopping down onto the bed.

The events of the day finally collapse down onto you. This situation was going to be a lot harder than you originally thought. Walker explained it as just one mission to see where the Flag Smashers were taking the stolen vaccines and you would be on your way. “Free at last” to use his words but now you were roped in for the long haul.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the look of betrayal on Bucky’s face either. He had confided in you about how he felt about the new Captain and how lost he felt. If Steve wasn’t right about Sam then what the hell was wrong with Bucky?

Before you realize it, tears were streaming down your cheeks. You knew it was too early to try to reach out to them so you decide to give them time. They were still processing their interactions with the new Captain and the new information about the Flag Smashers being super-soldiers.

If you were going to have to work with Walker, you were going to have to figure out a plan. Racking your brain for ideas, one comes to mind that would be risky. It would be worth it, though. Staring up at the ceiling, you start strategizing a way you could pull this off. You were one of Hydra’s best agents so hopefully, this would be easy. After going against your original thought and shooting Sam a quick text, you slowly drift off asleep.

=====

Your leg bounces under the table as you stare at the clock above the door. It was half-past seven and the breakfast rush was winding down. The diner was slowly emptying, leaving a hand full of tables with families and friends enjoying their meal. The waitress comes up to your booth, standing there until you notice her.

“Ready to order yet, hun’?” The nice older lady questions, breaking your gaze from the entrance to her. You shake your head no before turning back to the door. She gives you a sad smile before looking down at her watch, “It’s been almost twenty minutes, sweetie, are you sure your friends are still coming?”

You nod quickly, no matter what kind of circumstances the two soldiers would never stand you up. Their hearts were too kind for that. “I was just a bit early, I’m kind of nervous.” You shyly admit, sending her a smile.

“Well, I’m bringing you something to eat at least,” She commands, you open your mouth to reject but she cuts you off, “on the house.” She gives you a firm look before walking off to the back.

Right as she disappears into the kitchen, the bell of the diner dings. Your head snaps to it and you can’t help the large smile that appears on your face at the sight of the duo walking in. The two immediately see you since you placed yourself right near the door.

Sam sends you back a smile while Bucky just eyes you down. You were wearing a simple sweater and pants while they were in their usual civilian gear, a ballcap and jacket. You couldn’t help but ogle at how good Bucky looked in the blue Hently you two bought when he first came to Brooklyn.

They slip into the booth, their broad figures barely fitting on the small seat. Sam elbows Bucky as he tries to get comfortable but he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Morning.” You try to make conversation. “How was the rest of your day yesterday?”

“He got arrested.” Sam bluntly says making your jaw drop. “He missed his check-in with the shrink.”

“I told you not to tell her.” Bucky makes out through clenched teeth, he just shrugs in response. You go to scold him but he holds a steady hand out, “You can yell at me all you want later, what do you want? We don’t have much time.” Your heart drops with how aggressive he’s being towards you.

“I want to help you.” You announce, ignoring Bucky’s eye roll as he remembers who you’re working with. He goes to tell you off just like he told Walker but you start rambling before he could utter a word, “I know it’s not the ideal situation but Walker wants me on his team. If I could earn his trust and figure out what their plans are, I can report back to you two.”

“And how do we not know this is a setup?” Sam points out, leaning forward on the table as Bucky looks around the diner for any sign of said Captain America, “They could be listening right now, they still have you under lock and key.”

You gleam at the mention of that, realizing that you haven’t told them the good news. “Not anymore.” You extend your leg out from under the table for Bucky to see your naked ankle. “Walker pulled some strings to get me off my parole earlier.”

A look of realization comes across Sam’s face once he pieces everything together. He knew how mad you were about the new Captain America, how you helped him and Bucky against the Smashers instead of the other two, and how you didn’t know anything about Bucky getting arrested made sense.

“So, you made a deal with the devil.” Bucky snarkily questions, a look of disappointment on his face.

You let out a scoff at his words, “I did what I had to do, James. Not all of us were lucky enough to get pardoned.” You spit back, tired of how he was acting. “He tricked me, told me it was just one simple favor to repay him. Now, he wants me to be a part of his team to take down the Flag Smashers. Told me if I didn’t help that he would send me back to jail and it would reset everything I had accomplished in the last five years.”

Bucky’s eyes soften at your confession, hanging his head in embarrassment at his assumptions. The waitress comes up and sets the small plate of food down in front of you, giving an awkward smile to the boys before walking off.

You let out a sigh, feeling bad for yelling at him. He was being a dick but that didn’t mean you had to be one back to him. He was going through a lot and this was the last thing he needed.

Grabbing the fork, you stare down at the pancakes. “You don’t have to forgive me or anything but just understand where I’m coming from, please.”

They share a look as they silently communicate. Bucky narrows his eyes and Sam tilts his head at him. You look between them as you try to figure out what’s going on.

“I can’t read your mind, cyborg. Use your words.” Sam finally spits out then elbows him one more time, “Will you please scoot over? I’m suffocating over here!”

Bucky sighs and rolls his eyes at his friend. He gets up out of the booth and slips in next to you, using his larger form to push you closer to the window. Your eyes widen in surprise as he slings his arm to rest behind your head. He then takes the extra fork and stabs it into your hashbrowns.

Sam lets out an awe as he watches the two of you eat from your plate, “Don’t you two look so cute.”

“Shut up, Sam.” You both demand at the same time. He raises his hands up in defense, leaning back in the booth with a smug smile on his face. The two of you easily fall into conversation, catching up on things and giggling at the little jokes he was making. Suddenly, after a few moments of silence as the two of you enjoy the meal, you remember what Sam mentioned earlier.

Bucky lets out a little yelp when you send a swift smack to the back of his head, making the hashbrowns he was about to eat fall off his fork. “What the hell was that for?”

“For getting arrested, are you kidding me, James? Do you know what could’ve happened to you? I swear to God, James Buchanan Barnes, you will be the death of me—“ You continue to scold while Sam lets out a booming laugh. Mad at him for being so careless, you poke and prod at his chest but stop when you notice the expression on his face. Your heart can’t handle the way he pulls out his puppy dog eyes and his pouted lip. “Oh, don’t pull that shit with me.”

_____

untitled tfawts fic: @crowleysqueenofhell @mischiefmanaged71 @thewinterrbucky @lizajane3 @ahahafudge @spookycereal-s @a-girl-who-loves-disney @kittengirl998 @ sebby-staan

[passable-talent]

guess what I’m up to?

if you guessed “writing for another obscure hayden christensen character before that movie disappears from Tubi”, you’d be correct!

David Rice x GN!Reader, Jumper (2008)

ik this movie was based on a book but i have not read it. forgive me if, when i play around with the rules of jumping, it violates what the book says a jumper can do. I’m gonna operate with the best understanding i can. also i’m changing the ending woooo

At fourteen, you met a boy. His name was Elliot Rhodes- and he was a jumper. 

At first it was freaky, sure. Finding out that teleportation is real? It would freak anybody out. 

But it... it also explained a lot of things. It explained the way that you’d always wake up in your bed when you swore you passed out on the couch. It explained the way that you’d sometimes walk in the front door, not really remembering the bus ride home. It explained how you’d pop into a different room when you’d only taken half as many steps as you needed to. 

Were you a jumper, too?

You met Elliot when you were fourteen, and life was good for five years. He was your best friend, he was more than that. He helped you learn how to jump, helped you hide it from your parents, from the school. The both of you knew that you should be hiding your ability, could feel that it was a secret you had to keep, but didn’t quite know why. 

Then, five years into your relationship, when you’d finally figured out how to live, how to use your powers to make a living without being found out, when you were just about ready to leave your parent’s place and move into the cabin in Canada his parents left for him-

Death came for you, on his pale white horse. But it was his hair that was white, instead. And he didn’t come for you, exactly. 

Roland Cox. He appeared at Elliot’s home, and killed him. Then, before you even had your hand on your phone to call the police, someone else jumped into the room. 

You’d lashed out at him, throwing him away from Elliot, but he pushed you back, getting right to business. 

He knew who Roland was. He knew why he’d come. He introduced himself, his name was Griffin- and he offered you a chance to help him get back at Roland. 

Griffin didn’t really hold up to his word. He couldn’t trace Roland any better than you could’ve, but you were happy to have an ally, someone who had a mission, and a mission that would keep you out of your grief. You channeled your anger into hunting paladins, just like Griffin did. He wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, but he was a good guy... somewhere, deep down. 

He was somewhat understanding of you. He recognized your grief, found it similar to his own. And, in the four years you’d been hanging out with him, you’d become a pretty skilled fighter. You’d learned the tricks- you were a paladin hunter. 

It was a pretty solid new life. Given the superpowers and the dead boyfriend and the newfound target on your back from some ridiculous religious zealots, you could’ve done a lot worse. 

And then, along came David. 

David Rice. You’d seen him a thousand times, even if it wasn’t actually him. He was just another jumper who’d never had a run-in with the paladins, who’d never lost someone to the paladins, just another idiot who robbed a bank (unoriginal), and took his girlfriend on an ill-advised trip (bland). There was nothing exceptional about David Rice. 

Well, he was cute. A little. 

Okay, fine, he’s really cute. He’s a jackass, but he’s got a sweet smile. And he’s still a little puppy dog, following after a girl that he’s not into, but he’s convinced himself he’s still in love with. 

Textbook. You’d seen it a thousand times. It was something that a lot of jumpers did, using their new power and money and suave to find the person they were in love with before things changed, and wooing them. It always worked, at first, but things fell apart, because those amateurs could never keep it together. Even if they did manage to keep their partners out of the claws of the paladins, the secrets or the lying did them in. Most of the time, these jumpers weren’t even in it for the people, anymore. Just like David- he didn’t love her, not anymore. He just loved the idea of getting what he’d always wanted. 

When you saw him, at a bar in London, you had this quick little thought, ‘he’s not gonna last long.’ 

No, no, he was more impressive than that. He showed up at the Colosseum, and Griffin followed, assuming that the paladins weren’t far behind. And he was right, he always was, and you got to have plenty of fun moving around and fucking with paladins. 

“Ya know,” you said with a laugh when one of them had their eyes on you, their cables tearing up another priceless stone wall, “you sure don’t have much respect for history.” 

They managed to get a cable around you, and you felt that familiar tingle of lots and lots of electricity roll through you. But you were used to this, and you slipped out of your outer layer, then using the fabric to hold onto the cable and jump it through a wall, so it couldn’t be yanked out by any human force. Now, it was useless, and they had one less weapon. 

You jumped in front of them, and slipped your jacket back over your shoulders. 

“Loose fabric,” you said with a smirk, then landed a strong punch across his jaw. 

You jumped back to Griffin’s lair with unconscious paladin in tow, and quickly handcuffed him to the usual spot. Griffin wasn’t far behind with the other, but then, David appeared too. 

Griffin kicked him out, fast. 

“Yeah, he’s dead in a week, tops,” you said with a shake of your head. Griffin rolled his eyes, and started his work with the same level of anger and annoyance that he always did. 

A few hours passed in silence. Griffin had a new controller, so you let him ramble on about whatever game he was playing while you stretched out on the short couch you’d swiped from a closing furniture store a few months back. It was the closest to peace you ever seemed to get anymore, at least whenever you hung out with Griffin. But then David came back. He had nagging questions, they always did, when they managed to get ahold of Griffin. It usually didn’t change their fates. 

No, what changed their fates was when someone they cared about died. It happened to Griffin. It happened to you. And when he discovered his dad dead, it happened to David, too. So he wanted to help hunt Roland. 

Join the club. 

David gathered up the most recent intel Griffin had on Roland- which just so happened to be what you’d given him, four years ago. You watched from across the room as he and Griffin got into a bit of a tiff. 

Griffin pulled out the scars on his neck, to prove to David the high stakes he was messing with. That caught your attention- Griffin wasn’t one to be vulnerable. 

“Look, forget it! Forget Roland. Don’t waste your time.” Griffin righted his shoulders, taking a step back. “Just leave it to me.” He went off to his business out of your line of sight, which just left David. You still hadn’t really said a word to the man, too focused on Griffin’s drama to pay the new guy much attention. But you stood, taking a step closer to him, so now you could at least see Griffin working at his safe. Like always when he pulled the key from around his neck, you looked away. David hadn’t yet learned that lesson. 

Just like it had been when you first arrived, David awkwardly turned his back to the safe while Griffin entered it. You still didn’t quite know what was in there, but you knew it was important, and you knew it was dangerous. There were a few obvious conclusions you could leap to. 

“I’m-” David started, letting out a little breath. He really wasn’t prepared for any of this, was he? How long had he been jumping without running into the paladins?

“I was thinking that if we do this together, we could get him.” 

“Oh, no,” you said with a bit of a laugh, laying your head back against the stone wall. “He’s a solo act. He only keeps me around ‘cause I’m so charming.” 

“No, you’re not,” Griffin threw over his shoulder, and you only laughed at him. “Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t play well with others.” When you heard the safe close, you lifted your head back to the two of them, and watched as Griffin paced toward the doorway. You followed only after David did, and noticed him heading toward one of his vehicles, an old trailer- why Griffin liked to mess with it before he jumped, you didn’t quite get. It wasn’t going to move, anyway. 

“Do me a favor, yeah?” Griffin asked David, “Don’t be here when I get back. Find a rock, crawl under it, stay there.” He turned back to David, and you watched with a raised eyebrow from against the doorway. 

“ ‘Joi woo’, brother,” He said, and you rolled your eyes. “That’s ‘goodbye’ in Chinese.” 

For some reason, you didn’t think it was. 

He stabbed a knife into the tarp and jumped, and though you hoped that was the end of it, David followed him through his jump scar. 

Perfect. Just perfect.  

You followed as well, hoping to at least keep David out of trouble. When he followed Griffin, you just kept pace beside him, sticking to him in a way you knew would annoy him. You were like a bystander, letting the two of them figure out their annoyances with each other, staying out of it. It took him what seemed like half of the length of Tokyo until he finally got around to the point.

“And I know where to find Roland.”

“Why didn’t ya lead with that?” You asked, smacking the back of your hand against David’s shoulder. 

Griffin turned away, but the two of you followed. He swiped a car, you loved when he does that, because it’s always a really nice one, and you get to lean out of it and feel the wind. David took shotgun, and that’s fine, he’s the one with the special information or whatever. Didn’t matter, you could just enjoy the way that Griffin drives. He’s fun. 

All the sudden, David jumped to an airport, and the both of you followed. After a quick conversation, it was time to jump back to the lair, get some weapons together. You pulled on your loosest hoodie, knowing you’d probably need it, if they were bringing cables to whatever fight you were about to have. Was there a plan? It’s not like you were listening, but it didn’t seem to you like David had exactly explained where he planned on finding Roman. 

“Hey, what the hell?” You snarled when he jumped into the lair with his little girlfriend. “Oh, no, no, you can not bring her here. No way.” 

“Look, I gotta keep her safe, alright? Where’s Griffin?”

“Out front. You have to get her out of here.” Your words fell on deaf ears as he charged out to get Griffin, and you watched with a bit of annoyance as the girl followed. What was her name? Millie? Poor lamb probably didn’t know anything of what was going on at all. 

You heard whispering behind you, and turned around with a drop of your heart. Oh, this was bad, this was bad. They’d used- they had a wormhole, right into the lair.

“Griffin!” You shouted, and not a moment later he appeared beside you, the same look of dread on his face that you were feeling in your chest. David appeared, then, and Griffin turned on him instantly. 

“What have you done?”

“Griffin-” 

“Where does this thing go?”

“We gotta go.”

“David, what did you do?!”

The both of them jumped away, and it seemed like you were the only one who had any sense at all. 

You jumped immediately to the mouth of the lair, where you found Millie, looking confused and terrified. Naturally. Good for her, honestly, for keeping it together as much as she was. 

“ ‘ello, love,” you said, “Millie, right?” You took hold of her hands and jumped her away, far away, where she’d be much safer. On the other side, you waited for just a moment for her to get her wits together, so she’d register your words. 

“Stay here, okay? I mean it. Don’t go outside. There’s water and food and power, you’ll be fine. Just- seriously. Stay here.” You jumped back, then, to the mouth of the lair, hoping that when you entered, you wouldn’t be interrupting something important. 

Well, judging by the use of Griffin’s flamethrower, something important was happening. 

There were two men, plus Roland. As much as you wanted to take on Roland yourself, Griffin seemed to have that covered, and there were others you needed to deal with. With just a grab to the shoulder, one of them took a nice fun drop into the Mariana Trench. 

What? You’d read a book on it, once. 

The other was charred to a crisp, it seemed, and so you went looking for the only other person unaccounted for. 

“David?” You called into the lair, and you heard him groaning, along with the crackle of electricity. 

“Where’s Millie?” He asked, and you rounded the corner to see him strung up to the ceiling. 

“Somewhere safe, relax,” you said, shucking your hoodie off of your shoulders to wrap the fabric around your hands and grab onto the cables. Once you had them, you could jump away easily, pulling them off of him. You jumped back, slipping your hoodie back on, and gave him a cocky smile. 

“Loose fabrics,” you said, then jumped away to try to find out what Griffin was up to. 

A double-decker bus, that’s what. Then came Roland, and then came Griffin with the flame-thrower. When they both disappeared into the jump scar, David rounded on you, narrowing his eyes.

“Where’s Millie?” he snarled, and you took a step back. 

“She’s fine, I told you! She’s safe!” 

“Where is she?” David roared, and you shoved him away from you.

“She’s fine! Christ, boy, you don’t even love her, anyway!” 

That caught him off guard. 

“What?”

“Oh, god,” you groaned, turning your head before snapping your eyes to him, more ferocity in your gaze. “You know you don’t. You’re just holding onto the last thing you had when things were normal.” 

“Where is she?” He said again, taking an intimidating step toward you.

“I get it, okay?” You said, though now you were yelling. “I get it. But you’re putting her in danger! David, just let her go. You’re never going to be able to protect her. Not from them.” David’s eyes widened for just a moment, and then he looked down. You could see it as he gave in. 

“Let me take her home. At least let me do that.” 

“Sorry,” you said softly, “The place I put her, I- I can’t let anyone else see it. You gotta understand.”

Before it could get any worse, Griffin threw himself through the jump scar. 

“Nice,” he said as he righted himself, then immediately opened his safe. “The whole lot of them are in that apartment.”

“Oh, you’re finally gonna use the safe?” You asked, watching as he punched a few buttons. 

“I’ll take ‘em all out while they’re still there.”

“That’s Millie’s apartment!” David said, and Griffin turned to him with a shrug.

“She’s not there,” he said, nonchalantly, as though it was obvious. What’s the harm in destroying the apartment if no one innocent dies in it?

Griffin readied the safe and jumped away, leaving you and David behind. You turned to him, raising your gaze to his. He still looked vaguely angry. 

“She’s-” You turned your head to the side, before you could finish the sentence. You hadn’t told anyone about the cabin, not even Griffin. “She’s in Canada. Near a lake. She’s got water and power, nobody knows about it but me. She’s fine. But-” You gestured toward where the jumpscar to her apartment used to be, “Now she’s got nowhere to go back to.” 

“I know where her mom lives,” David said, shaking his head. “I’ll take her there.” You nodded slowly, then brought your gaze to his. He had- he had really blue eyes. Strikingly blue. You knew he couldn’t get to the cabin without following your scar, so you made him wait for you, made him wait until this moment ended. He didn’t seem to mind. 

“Hey, thanks,” he said after a moment, “You got her out of there.” He was speaking a bit gentler now, and this tone of voice you could certainly get used to. Was he being genuine with you? That was new. 

“Well, she seemed important.” 

“Yeah,” David said, a small smile finally growing on his face, and even though it was dark, you could swear you saw him begin to blush. Bashful little fucker. “We never even- Rome, I-” 

“Save it,” you said with a smile, reaching out to take his hand, which was surprisingly warm. You jumped him to the cabin, and found Millie curled up on the couch, looking out the window at the lake. 

“Sorry about all this, love,” you said, letting David have his moment. 

“Just take me home,” she said with a bit of a whimper, and you shook your head, even as you walked to the cabinet to grab a packet of crackers. 

“Sorry, love, that apartment’s gone. Kinda had to. Hope you understand.” 

“What?” Millie asked in disbelief.

“Really, (Y/N)?” David asked over his shoulder, before taking Millie’s hands and jumping her out of your cabin. 

You were meant to move here, with Elliot. This wasn’t even technically your place, even though you’d taken it up. Every now and again, you still missed him- but now that Griffin had taken care of Roland, it didn’t hurt so bad anymore. 

Four years was a long time to heal, maybe. But you’d needed it. And now that you had, and Roland was gone, and the world was just a bit safer for you- maybe you could consider trying again.

Maybe with someone that had strikingly blue eyes. And surprisingly warm hands. 

-🦌 Roe

[agentsoftie]

Can’t Help Falling In Love ( S.R )

summary: let’s look back on the milestones Y/N and spencer had together! Let’s look back to the first time they met, all the the way to the engagement!

a/n: thanks @thestrawberrygirl for helping me out with the plot! also this mentions Pride and Prejudice and I’m not a literature buff so if something’s are wrong, sorry I’m advance! also this is in 3rd person and ig technically im narrating! also the end is inspired by @agenthotchner’s fic birthday cuddles which I 100% recommend you check out afte reading this one!

paring: spencer reid x (f!) reader

warnings: cotton candy fluff 🍭

word count: 2k

requests: open!

tagging: @marshmallowtraver, @criminalmindsmoodrn, and @ghostly-angelic

remember to like and reblog!!

“Marry me”

Woah, let’s rewind, shall we? I mean, who likes to start at the end. That’s boring. So instead let’s start at the beginning like you would in any good story. Except in our case, a love story.

Our story starts off at the one and only coffee shop! It was a particularly quiet day. Although that’s what you expect on a Tuesday at 3pm. Y/N was the only one there working since her co-worker was on break. She was cleaning up a couple of things on the counter when in walked in, Spencer Reid.

“Hi, what can I get you?” Y/N said.

“Um, I’ll have your holiday special.”

“It’s the middle of September, there are no holiday specials.”

“Oh well, can you make it? I’ll pay extra.”

“Yeah, fine I guess. It’ll be 5.75”

He pays the amount with a dollar tip then goes and sits down. Being the only one in the shop she doesn’t ask for his name since that would just be a waste of time. So instead of a name, she draws a little pumpkin. And walks over to his window-side table for two.

“Here you go!” She says while handing him his special. “Be careful with it though, the pumpkin took like 5 minutes.” She says while he looks at the pumpkin in front of him and chuckles making her smile.

“Uh, thanks.” He says awkwardly while looking at her.

“Well yeah, no problem.” She responds blushing. All of a sudden his phone starts to ring.

“Oh shit! Sorry I really have to go, work.”He says while quickly getting up.

“Oh no yeah, don’t worry.” She says while smiling in confusion.

“Hey, I know it's weird and all but would you possibly wanna exchange numbers or something. I mean you don’t have to obviously.” He rambles awkwardly.

“Uh, sure!” She says while showing him her number. “I’m Y/N by the way.”

“Spencer, Spencer Reid. Well, Dr.Spencer Reid to be specific.” He says smiling.

And with that, he was gone. Gone like the wind on an October morning. “Dr.Spencer Reid. Huh. I like it.”

Wasn’t that adorable. I think it was. Now let's fast forward 3 weeks to Y/N and Spencer’s first date.

First dates can be terrifying. Will it go well? What if they ghost? What if it was all a prank? What if they turn out to be a crazed serial killer who’s on the FBI’s most wanted list? But all of these thoughts are normal, well maybe except for the last one but that’s a whole different story. Now this date was different for Y/N. This was the first date she’s had since her terrible, horrible, atrocious relationship that lasted way longer than it needed to.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Y/N waited 1 minute before opening the door to make it look like she wasn’t waiting. “You look stunning,” Spencer says while eyeing her up and down. She was wearing a black romper paired with gold jewelry. “And so do you.” She says while looking at his casual black suit.

“Uh, I got you these.” He says while handing Y/N a bouquet of sunflowers. “Oh Spencer, you didn’t have to.” She said while finding a vase to put them in. “I mean, how did you even remember?” She says while coming to face him. “Eidetic memory remember.” He says while looking down at his watch. “Now come on, or we’re gonna be late.” He says while grabbing her arm.

“Where are we going, Spencer?” Y/N says in the car. All she could see were the stars in the pitch-black sky above her. “Are you gonna kill me? Cause you know for being an FBI agent you could definitely get away with it.”

“Y/N, I’m not going to kill you. And, bam, here we are.” He says while pulling up to a rest stop lit up with dim lights and telescopes. “Hope, you like the stars.” He says while Y/N steps out of the car a gazes upwards astonished at the number of stars in the sky. “Oh, and pasta,” Spencer says while grabbing a picnic basket from his car.

“Spence, this pasta is, amazing.” Y/N says while devouring the pasta.

“Yeah, you could say it's a family recipe.” He says while looking at her clean herself up smiling as if this was the best thing that life could ever offer. “Do you like stars?” he says after realizing he was staring.

“Yeah actually. I know it’s stupid but when I was younger my mom once told me that whenever I feel say, I should look up at the stars and just tel the all of my problems. And that somehow they would hear me and they would help.” Y/N says while looking up at the stars and then to Spencer who was dreamily gazing.

“No, not at all. That’s actually really sweet.” He said to her while she was blissfully looking at the wonders up above. To him, in that moment, she was an angel. An absolute masterpiece. And a puzzle, that he was dead set to solve. “Hey Y/N?” He asks, causing her to rip away from the painting up above. “Can I kiss you?” She simply just smiles and nods and like that their lips were together. It was a short kiss but as soon as they pulled for air they were grinning like idiots and as red as a ripe tomato. This really was, how do you say it? Oh, the start of something new.

Aww, my heart. That was adorable right! I know, I know, you’re jealous. But so am I so don’t worry. Speaking of adorableness, next up on our little trip is “I love you.” And trust me, this one’s gonna make your heart melt.

It was a Friday night and Spencer couldn’t sleep. So what does he do, he pulls up to Y/N’s. She hears a knock at her door and opens it once realizing it's Spencer. “Spence babe, what are you doing here?” She says drowsily while scratching her eyes. “I couldn’t sleep.” That’s all he says. “Fine, um, here come with me.” She takes her to her room and sits on the bed watching Y/N while she looks around for something.

“Y/N/N what are you doing?”

“I’m looking for a very particular book, Spencer. And, aha, found it!” She says while holding Pride and Prejudice. “My mom used to read it to me when I couldn’t sleep. And now since you can’t, I’m gonna read it to you!” She says while getting into her bed with Spencer already on the other side.

He put his head on her lap and she started to stroke his hair and started to read.

“I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.”

And read.

“I am all astonishment”

And read.

“I love you. Most ardently”

“I love you,” Spencer says just before closing his eyes.

“I love you too,” Y/NN says after kissing his forehead.

Sweet right. Isn’t your heart just melting, because mine definitely is. I mean Jane Austin and “I love you” is just the best pairing. Now we get to meet the family! Or in our little genius Spencer’s case co-workers. But let’s be honest, family.

Y/N realized that she hadn’t really talked to Spencer like they always do in a while and didn’t like that. So she did the noble thing and got some lunch, grabbed her visitors’ pass, and drove off into the freeway.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Spencer asked while Y/N put a take out bag from Chipotle on his desk.

“I missed you so I came here. And before you get mad at me, we haven’t been talking that much and you’ve been on the DL lately and I don’t like that. So we will be having lunch together.”

“I love you so much,” He says while pulling her in for a kiss which was rudely interrupted by the team.

“Hey, pretty boy! Who’s the goddess?” Derek asks. “Yeah! Is she single?” JJ adds on just to be scolded by Emily. “Jayje, we’re dating. Stop.”

“Uh, guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” Spencer says while Y/N waves.

“No way, you got yourself a girl? Huh, how long?” Derek asks.

“Um, about a year and a half give or take.” Y/N says while looking over at Spencer nodding as if she needed the validation.

“Damn!” Penelope says. “I’m Penelope the way! Everyone calls me Garcia though. That’s Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and Jennifer Jareau.”

“You can call me JJ though,” JJ adds for clarification.

“Well, hi! I’m Y/N Y/L/N! It’s a pleasure to meet you all!”

The girls crowded around Y/N while Derek went off to Spencer who was staring.

“You got a ring?” He asks.

“Yep,” Spencer says while pulling it from his pocket.

I swear if these two aren’t making you die right now then you have a heart of stone because damn! We’re really watching a Nicholas Sparks film play out right now. Except, for well you know, all the sadness. And now, bringing you all the way back to the beginning, “marry me.” Are you ready? Cause here we go!

It was a Saturday, and it was raining. No not raining, pouring. Y/N and Spencer were stuck inside today. It was just them, the rain, and their coffee. Spencer had the whole proposal planned out. He was going to take her to the rest stop he took her on their first date. He was gonna say it’s for their 2 year year anniversary, but then just get down on one knee and list all the reasons why he wants to marry her.

It was going to be perfect. Everyone was gonna be there, and that means the pasta to. They were gonna slow dance under the stars as they did in Captian America. He was gonna tell her that no matter what happens in the future, he’d always be there for her. He would be there no matter what. And that from the first moment he saw her, he knew that she was the one.

But everything got ruined because of the stupid rain. Now they’re stuck inside and all Spencer can think about is how much he wants to marry this woman sitting right next to him. How much he just wants to get on one knee and tell her that she is his world.

“Hey Spence, here is the hot chocolate.” She says while giving it to him. “Be careful it’s hot. Also, I know that technically we should be watching scary movies now since its almost Halloween and shit but can we watch a Christmas Movie?”

“Of course.” He says turning on Love Actually since it just happens to be Y/N’s favorite Christmas Movie.

He kept on looking at her throughout the movie. Something about her laughing at the same jokes she’d heard 12 times already just makes him love her even more. And the fact that every time Keria Kightly came onto the screen she would completely lose focus on everything and pay so much attention.

“Marry me,” Spencer blurts out causing Y/N to drop everything and turn to face him.

“What?” Y/N had heard exactly what Spencer had said she just couldn’t believe it.

“Marry me,”

“Spencer I-”

“I want to spend every moment of my life with you Y/N. You are my everything and I would be nothing without you.” He says while pulling out the ring. “You see this, I got this 6 months ago and I’ve been carrying it around everywhere I go.” He says while showing her the ring. “Today, seeing you just laugh at the same joke we’ve heard over 12 times now, I wanna see that laugh every day. Y/N, I wanna grow old with you. I wanna have children. I wanna have you!”

Y/N was speechless. Just looking at him in awe. “So I’m asking if you, Y/N Y/L/N would marry me?”

“Yes. Yes yes yes yes, 1 million times yes!”

He put the ring on her and it was the best experience either of then had ever had. They were both truly in love. People wonder if soulmates are real, and all I can say is to look at this love story. The stars were aligned and the pages we written. All they needed was ink, which they found!

“You have bewitched me body and soul”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

frENEMIES, pt.9 {Quarterback AU}

Summary: Long overdue, Y/N and Grayson finally reunite.

Warnings: angst, fluff, indicating a spiked drink

Series Masterlist

"Being lonely and being alone are two entirely different things. One is imposed on you and one you choose. Yet somehow I found myself with a little bit of both.

Every year that went by and I watched new couples form and break up, I longed for a relationship of my own. It wasn't due to lack of trying, because I did try! However, for some unknown reason every guy I got close to would soon ghost me. And for a while I thought it was me, like I'm the reason why they all leave. Funny thing is, none of them were ever important to me - not like the cocky quarterback I felt drawn to despite him being able to raise my blood pressure dangerously high without even speaking.

In these years he had been flagged as a hothead, a bomb just waiting to go off and I had no idea why. Maybe he was just as misunderstood as me, because no matter how much we fight, in the end it always felt like he had my back.

It was something I learned when one of those frat parties turned into something more than I bargained for. All I remember is having a good time, dancing with a handsome stranger, then waking up in my bed with my quarterback sat by my side. I had a killer headache and parched mouth and as if he could read my mind, a glass of water was soon offered to me. Once I laid back, a little confused, I looked at him and the worry etched in every line of his beautiful face - no trace of the cocky guy I was used to.

He played with my hair until I fell asleep and ran his knuckles down my cheek so softly, tenderly, careful as if I were made of glass and he could break me. He told me everything will be fine and i should sleep some more, that I am safe and he won't go. 

I believed him.

I trusted him without restrain, and I knew...I knew he'd protect me. The line between love and hate had always been blurred with us and that night it didn't even exist.

I know what happened that night now. Not just that night but with every guy that thought I looked like a fun night and nothing more that you made sure would never hurt me.

Thank you for being my guardian angel, quarterback. I'll always remember that."

When Grayson showed up, seeing her engrossed in a daydream of sorts, her back turned to him, he still couldn't find a way to calm his heartbeat. She looked formidable from behind that desk, but it wasn't about how she looked at all but what she might do when she sees him.

He can tell her book had none of the bitterness he thought she felt for him. None of the hate. Nothing negative at all. Even his flaws were so artistically written that he came off like a good man.

Flaws. Grayson knew he was full of them. The scar between his eyebrows and the one on his chin. His coldness towards people. His ability to scare away anyone that looked at him, or her - especially her. His temper, his womanizing ways, his asthma and his dyslexia. 

However, that is usually only how deep people saw into him. But she? She saw him fully. She saw past all the nastiness that consumed and and saw what he truly was. Beautiful. Because what is a human being without flaws? She knew that the flaws make people who they are. They make everyone individual and their own person. That flaws make people interesting. And a human with flaws is a beautiful one. His flaws were the main reason she ever fell in love with him, and not some measly prince who has their whole life handed to them with a gold crown. She loved him, flaws and all.

The book was emotional, funny, filled with all the things he hoped she'd once say to him but never did. Had he known she truly felt so much for him, Grayson would have stopped at nothing until he made her his girl.

And now, looking at her with fear in his chest, he still opened his mouth - it was always faster than his mind.

When she turned around, he had never thought he'd hear the heavenly sound of his name upon her lips and what truly took him by surprise is the moment she put down her cup and leapt into his arms.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to hold her up so she doesn't end up hanging. He found his face stuffed with her hair, but he didn't mind the gentle reminder of her signature scent, it didn't change all those years.

In her embrace the world stopped still on its axis. There was no time, no wind, no rain. There was something so warm, something that felt right, smelt right. She let her body sag, her muscles become loose. He gave her the respect of an equal, holding her a little stronger than it allowed her the freedom to breathe, but in that embrace she felt her worries loose their keen sting.

"Wow!" Letting him go way too soon for both their comfort, Y/N took a step backwards, her smile never leaving her face. "You look a lot bigger in person than you do on my TV!" She exclaimed and it didn't take long for Grayson to realize she watches his games.

"Fangirling over me? Watching my games? Are you sure you're really Y/N? I mean, you should watch what you say, someone might think you care." Chuckling, he puts his copy of the book on the desk as she rolls her eyes at him and he felt a lot more at ease once he’s seen her usual sign of frustration with him.

"Yes, asshole, I care about you." She didn't try to maneuver around it, admitting the truth shamelessly as he smiled at her candor, truly grateful he finally heard her say it and not in an audio version of the book.

Grabbing her by the hand, he pulled her into his chest swiftly enough to make her gasp, his smile bright as their eyes remain glued to each other, neither able to look away.  His eyes are so different, more soft than she knew eyes could be.

"That's better. It sounds more like you." He says quietly, just above a whisper as he wonders if she can tell his heart is nearly breaking his rib cage.

A moment later, her palm splayed against his chest feels just that, her eyes dropping to where her hand can feel every single erratic beat. Her cheeks turn a darker shade of pink and he knows she knows and he doesn't give a shit.

For the first time in forever, he can't find it in him to regret letting her know she has his heart in the palm of her hand - both figuratively and literally.

"Three years, huh?" He raises an eyebrow as her eyes flicker back up to his. Clearing her throat, she nods before tapping his chest and taking a step back.

"Yeah. You haven't changed much. Just the hair...and your arms got bigger!" She exclaims, chuckling nervously as she looks around to make sure they're still alone.

"Do you regret it?" Her voice is oddly quiet, her arms crossing over her chest as she let out a shuddered breath when his eyebrows furrow at her question.

"What?"

"I don't know...everything?" Forcing a smile, she leans back on the desk behind her for support, afraid she might fall - literally and figuratively for Grayson. Her treacherous heart already felt like it could bleed itself dry just for one damn moment of pure happiness with him and it scared her more than anything.

But Grayson had to think, to understand why she’s asking him that. He likes that she wants to own her mistakes, but she needs to forgive herself too. Until she does that she'll never let him in to help her heal. And he wanted that - a second chance with her more than anything. He would give anything.

He was quiet for a moment, too long for her not to let her past insecurities flood her. Her chest felt like it would collapse under pressure and her face burned like hot lava, she opened her mouth to tell him to forget she ever asked but he started talking instead.

"Just because we never really worked back then doesn't mean I didn't love you. And it doesn't mean that I would ever regret having the privilege to know you. To just be around you. I regret being a coward. I could have done more because even then I knew I wanted you to be my endgame." And there wasn't a single pause in his answer, no trace of any sort of doubts. Grayson meant what he said and be felt it with all his being.

He wished he was more capable of being raw and vulnerable with her, to have made some changes to the way they communicated. Something that would have given her a chance to see he was besotted with her, not the playboy he portrayed himself as. Come to think of it, he'd trade everything, even football, just to have her. She was more important than he knew...until she was gone, he really had no clue.

And while she was still reeling from the word love he used in context of them being something more than just frenemies, she couldn’t help the glistening tears from filling her eyes.

"Yeah", with tears in her eyes she sniffles. "Me too. I wish I wasn't so wrapped up in my own fears. That I at least tried, you know? Maybe we would have been happy", rubbing her nose, she gives him a small smile. 

But when he takes a step closer, someone else enters the bookstore and she finds herself panicked, yet relieved when the person seems to vanish in the stalls instead of coming to her for an autograph.

"This isn't...uh...If someone would to see his together, they would figure it out.” People have been trying to figure out who the mysterious quarterback is for years and one person is enough for a media frenzy to start. 

“We should find a private place. Maybe my apartment?" She rambled as Grayson slowly closed the distance, his mischievous smile growing with every step.

"Let them figure it out. I don't give a shit." And before she had a chance to react, his lips found hers. Lips parted, she moaned against his as he pressed her closer to him and she submitted willingly, and he fucking loved it. 

They kissed without a care in the world, his arms around her tight as he kept her close, their mouths locked in a new kind of an argument, one against oxygen. They couldn't breathe, their kiss anything but gentle, relentless and passionate and filled with so many emotions they wanted to scream at the top of their lungs but neither could handle the thought of breaking the kiss.

Until it was broken by a voice Y/N didn't recognize, but Grayson sure as hell did.

"Grayson? Babe?"

Wiping her mouth, Y/N took a step back as her legs trembled, still overwhelmed by the electrifying chemistry between them that seemed to have burned through her sanity. She didn’t dare look away from him, catching the stunning beauty from the corner of her eye.

"Grayson, tell me this isn't what I think it is. Tell me and I’ll believe you." Y/N whispered barely, her voice laced with a desperate plea and a hint of disappointment she couldn't relieve.

"It's not." He starts, but the long legged blonde stepped beside him, staking her claim.

"Why the hell were you kissing my man?"

And that’s when Y/N truly got a good look at her incredible beauty, but also her very pregnant belly.

Tags: @livexdolan​​ @dreadingdaisies​​ @strangerliaa​​ @mendesficsxbombay​​ @beinscorpio​​ @peacedolantwins​​ @dolandolll​​ @idekxdolan​

PART 10 

[mythologyfolklore]

Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 17

Chapter Seventeen: The gods during the dark age

.

“My, those were a few messed up mortal centuries!”, Zeus exclaimed.

The legendary kings of old were no more and the last heroes had finally passed away; Menélaos and Helene, who had been granted a prolonged life, had died together and their souls had been carried away to Elysion, where many of their friends were waiting for them.

“Now that this mess is over, I think mankind should have a break – preferably several centuries.”

“U-huh”, Apollon agreed. “The Age of Heroes is over now. Soon the people who worship us will forget how to even write. The old cultures are dying.”

“So they won't remember us? We will be forgot?”, Hera asked, bewildered.

“Not really”, Zeus soothed his wife. “We will remain in their collective memories. In a few centuries, they will relearn how to record things and stories. They will remember us again and this time, they will write about us. Mankind won't forget us, just where our worship came from and who we once were.”

“But can't we just make them write everything down now, instead of letting them forget?”, Athena objected.

Zeus shook his head. “No, my child. We have been meddling way too much lately. Humanity doesn't need us now, it needs rest. It needs time.”

The goddess of wisdom sighed sadly, but didn't protest any further.

.

What were centuries to humans were but decades to the gods.

During that time, they focussed on their own lives.

And on their family.

Eris had damaged the bonds between the gods during the great war, but now it was time to repair their family ties.

Of course Eris and Ares' twin Enyo received a house ban; Zeus was now hundred percent done with the quarrelsome nature of his daughter and of the daughter of Nyx. Not only he – the other Olympians applauded, when he announced his decision.

.

It was a lot more peaceful and a lot more quiet.

Without Dionysos' constant partying it would have been too quiet.

It had been ten Olympian years now and Ares was still travelling the world.

Sometimes he wrote letters to them, but he wasn't much of a writer and his messenger bird needed a while to get to Olympos from wherever its master was.

None of the Olympians would have admitted, that they were happy about the war god's letters. Except for Aphrodite of course; she was quite openly joyful every time the divine vulture arrived with as many letters as it could carry in its talons.

Today was such a day.

They were holding council, when Iris came in.

Zeus rose from his throne. “Iris, this better be an emergency. You know that no one is allowed to disturb the council meetings of the Dodekatheoi, unless the matter is important.”

Iris cleared her throat: “Forgive me, my king, but here is a letter from Ares.”

The meeting was forgot instantly and everyone jumped up.

The eleven Olympians gathered around the rainbow-haired messenger, until Hera snatched the roll of papyrus from Iris' hand.

“Let us see it!”, Aphrodite demanded.

“Everybody settle down!”, Zeus commanded. “Hera, give the letter to me. Let's gather around Hestia's hearth and I will read it to you all.”

So they all did.

Hestia eyed them curiously, as they all gathered around her warm and friendly fire.

“My dear sister, our goddess of the hearth”, Poseidon spoke, “We want to have a little family moment in your peaceful presence.”

Hestia smiled through her flame and it became just a little brighter, as her aura of domestic harmony spread out.

As they all sat down on the floor, Zeus unrolled the scroll and began to read:

“9th Maimakterion¹ (I think)

Dear family,

sorry for not having written to you in a while. Been kinda busy lately. I just arrived here. I'm being on the move a lot, so I don't stay in one place for long enough to have something to write about …”

Zeus huffed: “And he's not even telling us where he is!”

“Read on”, Hera urged.

Her husband went on: “I'm kinda on the other side of the world right now. Kinda boring here in Polynesia – oh, so that's where he is – but it's fun to fly above the Pacific Ocean with the wind. The ocean is so huge, that I need ages to find the tiniest islands. And even longer to find islands where gods live. The communication is awkward, because I don't speak their language and vice versa. Worse, they seem to speak, if not a whole other language, then at least a different dialect on each island. Even using sign language is problematic sometimes. But they seem friendly enough and they do seem to understand the concept of host and guest exchanging presents. There are a few things I have memorised so far, mostly a bunch of prohibitions called Tapu². Some of them are pretty dumb, if you ask me. Then again, once I manage to tell them about my home land, they would probably think some of our traditions pretty stupid too (reasonably so, if you ask me). The peoples of Polynesia have no writing system and neither have their gods.³

So yeah. I'll be staying here for a few mortal decades. Boring as it is around here so far, it's also weirdly relaxing and maybe I will finally get the hang on those Polynesian languages and their culture, which is pretty similar between all these scattered islands (luckily for me). Perhaps then I'll be able to tell you guys more.

That's it.

Sorry for this letter being so short, but there really isn't much to write about right now (also I'm running out of writing material). Maybe I'll go to Australia next.

Sending you gifts from the indigenous gods. They may be simple compared to the last ones, but they were made with love, so you better appreciate them.

Lastly, I'm fine and hope you're too. I'll let you know, when I come to Australia and how long I will stay there, so you too can write to me and tell me how you're doing. I haven't heard from y'all in a while and … well, I just think about you guys a lot. Wish you were here.

Love and miss you all and wishing you happy early or late birthday, because I can hardly congratulate you all punctually.

Always  yours, Ares.”

Zeus rolled the letter up. “That's it. The letter really is way too short. Such a shame.”

“Show us, what else he sent us!”, Aphrodite demanded.

The King of the Gods rolled his eyes, but opened the magical bundle the letter had been attached to.

“Ah, look at that!”, he cried, when he pulled out a huge-ass shell. “I think that one is for you, brother.” And handed it to Poseidon.

The sea god laughed and cradled the shell in his lap.

Afterwards each and every of the Olympians received a present of some sort.

Athena grinned, when she was handed a harpoon.

“Don't even think about it!”, Poseidon snarled.

“Too late!”, the wisdom goddess smirked.

“Ah, this is also for you too, I think”, Zeus said, when he fished out a bundle of scriptures written on tree bark, probably because Ares had run out of papyrus.

Athena skimmed over a few of them and smiled. Ares had sent her an account about what he had understood about the culture of the people there so far. How thoughtful of him.

“Here are a few recipes for Hestia – oh, he even has some gifts for Hades and Persephone! Flower seeds and … oh great, more of those creepy masks. Hades will love them.”

“Did he not send anything for me?”, Hephaistos inquired glumly.

Zeus searched through the package. “Doesn't look like – ah, here! 'Dear brother, sadly I haven't found a people that knows metal work so far, so have some photographs.'”

The divine smith beamed and took the stack of photographs.

“Show them to us, pleeeease!”, Aphrodite begged.

Hephaistos handed them around, so the other gods could look at them too.

After the gods had passed the pictures around with lots of chatter, they each tucked their respective souvenirs away and sat in comfortable silence.

Eventually Aphrodite whispered: “I miss him so.”

“Me too”, Hephaistos agreed quietly.

“As do I”, Hermes admitted. “Even though he calls me squirt and pipsqueak all the time.”

Athena spied Zeus and Hera clasping each other's hand – they missed their son too, even though they didn't say it.

Even she herself did miss her prick of a half-brother.

It just seemed too quiet around here, even with Dionysos throwing a party at least once a week. It felt wrong, not seeing him every day, not hearing his dumb suggestions and annoying rambling about violence and the horrors of armed conflict, seeing his throne empty in the assembly … and having someone to spar with. She couldn't even train with Enyo, because the goddess of bloodlust and violence had a house ban (and Zeus was showing no sign of lifting it anytime soon).

Even not hearing the inevitable insulting nicknames felt off by now.

It was lonely without her volatile counterpart.

Not that she would admit it.

.

A few months later, the Olympians got a letter saying that he was in Australia.

“You wouldn't like it here”, Ares wrote. “The part of the continent where I'm in is unbearably hot (the deserts of Egypt are a dream compared to that) and the gods around here are actually ancestral spirits, rather. They're really benevolent, but you wouldn't like their life style. They're nomads, which honestly is no wonder, because the great desert is … well, pretty damn dry, so staying in one place wouldn't make any sense. They live as hunters and gatherers, just like the mortals here do. Australia has a unique flora and fauna though. In other words, it's fine, if you're tough and can live without the comfort of our civilization.

Btw, I've heard stories about a rainbow snake, who is asleep during dry season and shouldn't be woken up from their slumber. I think I'm gonna wake them up.”

A few weeks later, he updated them: “Waking up the Rainbow Serpent was a shitty idea. The indigenous gods and mortals are now pissed at my stupidity (and my disrespect). The Serpent was really pissed at being disturbed, caused one Tartaros of a thunderstorm and set the whole area underwater. But hey – this place really could use the rain.”

The Olympians laughed; this was just such an Ares thing to do!

.

Not long after, they got a letter from the New World.

Ares was in South America and travelling up the continent. He would then move on to North America, he wrote, and once he was done there, he would cross the Atlantic and stay with the Norse gods for a while, before returning to Hellas and Olympos.

Zeus put the letter down and sighed: “I hoped that he would return to us right away, as soon as he's back on our continent.”

The other Olympians nodded glumly.

But there wasn't much they could do; they couldn't keep Ares from visiting his old friends, especially when he was so far away.

.

A few Olympian years later, Ares had finally got his arse up to leaving the Americas and the first European pantheon he stayed with was the Norse one.

“Welcome, Ares, son of Zeus!”, Óðinn greeted the Olympian. “Your father told us, that you were on a journey. I hope your travel was safe?”

“Yup!”, Ares grinned. “Safe and fun! Sorry for just showin' up here, but thanks for havin' me anyways. So good to be here and see y'all! How're ya doin'?”

“Just fine, thank you”, the one-eyed god replied.

“HOLY COW, ARES, IS THAT YOU?!”

Before Ares could respond, he was pulled into a bear hug by a giant of an As with flaming red hair and eyes.

“Hey, Þórr”, Ares choked, squirming in the thunder god's embrace. He didn't worry about the three-quarters-Jötunn crushing him, but damn, he couldn't breath!

“Oh, sorry!”,  Þórr laughed sheepishly and put him down.

The Hellenic god gasped for air, before grinning from ear to ear. “Missed ya too, man!”

Ares, who wasn't exactly a small man either, still barely reached up to the Norse god's shoulder and had to stand on his tippy toes to hug the other back.

“What have you been up to?”, Þórr asked.

“Travelling the world, meeting new people, seeing new places – oh, hey, Týr and Freyja!”

“'Sup”, Týr responded and Freyja waved.

Óðinn cleared his throat: “Anyway, my friend, how about you settle down first? Let's find a place for you to stay. And once you have rested a little, how about we throw you a celebration worthy of a divine guest such as you?”

Ares beamed: “Awesome! Your hospitality is one of the greatest things around here – apart from your battle prowess, of course!”, he added with a wink and everyone laughed.

He was received with all honours and it had been a while since he had felt home like this.

The panthea abroad had been nice and all, but their definition of hospitality was completely different, sometimes downright dubious. This was what he knew; the Germanic and Hellenic peoples had their hospitality in common. And the crazy parties of the Norse gods were right up his alley.

He had been invited to stay in the halls of Óðinn himself and that was fine with him. While the one-eyed god had his own brand of creepiness (which was reflected in his Kenningar: Raven God, Father of the Slain, Father of Victory, Hanged God, Foretelling God …⁴) he was a fine host … most of the time.

That evening he was laughing and dancing with his hosts (and watching out for a certain trickster, who likely would try to prank him).

A few of the gods were looking on in envy, as Ares danced wildly with Freyja, laughed heartily with Þórr and even had an arm wringing match with Óðinn (turned out the Allfather was a lot stronger than he looked) which ended in a draw.

There was some amusement, when Ares got into a little spat with Óðinn's blood-brother Loki.

The trickster had the tendency to roast everyone, when he was drunk – good to see, that this hadn't changed in all those centuries.

The Æsir just rolled with it, obviously having heard it all before.

Ares on the other hand (though he too was used to being roasted) had no intention to let it slide and perhaps escalate; this was a party, not an assembly or battlefield.

After a short banter with the trickster (that he lost, because even drunk Loki was more eloquent and witty than him), he just made short work of it and carried the smaller god off, to where he knew Loki's own house to be.

“Foxy jerk made trouble again?”, Sigyn deadpanned, when she saw her drunk husband squirming on the taller god's shoulder.

“Just some roasting”, Ares told her and dropped the fire giant unceremoniously. “Not really trouble. Still, I think he needs a nap.”

“Sure does”, Sigyn snarled.

Ares almost laughed, when the tiny goddess dragged Loki off, grumbling about how “the foxy jerk” made nothing but trouble and so on.

.

Olympos, 4th Poseideon⁵

My dear love,

thank you for telling us you're in Asgard.

Your children and I have been anxious, since you haven't written to us in a while.

We're doing okay and it's good to know that so are you.

We hope you have lots of fun in Asgard.

But you really should come home soon.

We miss you all so terrible, even your parents and – you won't believe it – even Athena misses you! Of course she would never admit that, but I know she does; women just know these things, you see. Things down on earth are starting to get interesting too. This one city in Italy, Rome is its name, is showing great ambition. The Italian gods are starting to get more ambitious too. Venus is a bit obnoxious at times and it pisses me off, because Aineías was my son, not hers! And don't get me started on Mars – I know, you hate him.

But to more pleasant things; the rest of our family is okay too, but your father has been very glum lately, I don't know why.

Hephaistos is working on improving his far-speakers and cameras even further, though he did that just last year. Oh well, I guess a genius is never truly satisfied.

Eris and Enyo are alright too, I think. At least Athena says so – she meets them more often than I do. Athena is in a bad mood, because she has no one to spar with – she's complaining that sparring with Enyo just isn't the same.

But I must go now, your mother is stress-baking again and I want to get at one of her delicious cakes.

I love you lots, we all do.

And we miss you.

Please be back soon, Ares.

In love, Aphrodite.

.

Ares grinned and tucked the letter into his magical bag.

“So Daddy's Owl misses me too, huh?”

.

---

.

1) Maimakterion: the Attic month from November to December. I allowed myself a small anachronism here, because the Attic calendar was likely invented just a bit later than where my story currently is. The Attic calendar is a lunisolar calendar and was used in Athens. The month Maimakterion is named after an epithet of Zeus. 2) Tapu: "Consecrated/Forbidden/Prohibited/Cursed" (also "tabu" or "kapu", the spelling and precise meaning depend on the region), the traditional prohibitions of the Polynesian peoples. The origin of the word "taboo". 3) The only known exception is the Rongorongo glyph system from the Easter Island, which hasn't been deciphered yet. 4) Those are genuine epithets of Odin. 5) Poseideon: the Attic month from December to January. I think you can guess who this one is named after.

Bonus: I sincerely apologise for my treatment of Australia. I had to write this from the POV of an entitled Greek god who is used to ... well, Greek culture. And the ancient Greeks were rather snobbish towards the rest of the world.

[victorineb]

On a moonlit Halloween night… 

“This is ridiculous. How are we getting away with this?” Will had adopted a theatrical whisper that, in Hannibal’s opinion, was more likely to draw attention than their current, admittedly fairly dramatic, appearance.  

“Most people do not share our intimate familiarity with the substance,” Hannibal whispered back, leaning into the side of Will’s throat to breathe in the scent of blood and sweat. “Nor your particular fondness for it, my love,” he added, just to see Will blush like he hadn't ravished Hannibal next to a still-warm corpse not half an hour ago.

“Shut up,” Will said, elbowing Hannibal in the side as if irritated, though the smile he couldn’t quite rein in put the lie to that idea. “They’re so content in their blindness. We’re dripping in viscera and yet the guys in the giant Pikachu suit got more attention than we have.”

“Are you disappointed, mylimasis? Were you hoping to instil terror amongst the crowd, to watch as they shrank from your magnificence, to bask in their fear as they recognised the hunter in their midst?”

“Shut. Up!” This time Will grabbed Hannibal and shoved him against a convenient wall, immediately pissed off that the fond, amused smile on Hannibal’s face didn’t falter for a moment. He shoved his leg between Hannibal’s thighs – causing a symphony of plastic squealing as their murder suits rubbed together – and that got a reaction, Hannibal’s eyes fluttering as he snatched in a breath. Will let him wait for a moment, making no move other than to gently rock his leg against the stiffness he could feel rising beneath it. He watched Hannibal with the sharp gaze of a predator awaiting the moment their prey breaks from cover, and when Hannibal’s lips parted slightly, he surged forward to devour them.  

He allowed himself the span of two minutes to work Hannibal up, biting at his mouth and pressing against his body, hips rolling just enough to have Hannibal straining against his hold. Then, mercilessly, he pulled back completely, watching with satisfaction as the dazed look in Hannibal’s eyes turned dark and wanting. Will grinned.

“Now, behave. Or I will put a leash on you and teach you obedience.”

With a smack to his thigh just short of truly painful, Will turned from his panting cannibal and began sauntering off, pausing only to check that he was being followed and finding Hannibal peeling himself from the wall with a hungry gleam in his eye.

“Down boy,” he teased as Hannibal stalked towards him. “Blood’s one thing but a public sex show will attract an audience, even on Halloween.”

Hannibal stepped straight into his space, sliding his face into the crook of Will’s shoulder and breathing deep. “As if I would allow another’s eyes to behold you as you writhe in ecstasy,” he growled, biting tenderly at the tendon in Will’s neck. “Slaughter thousands in the clear light of day and I would only watch in admiration, but your body and your pleasure belong only to me, beloved.”

Will grinned, sharp and amused, then grabbed Hannibal’s hair and yanked him upwards. “Likewise,” he said, and once more crushed his lips to Hannibal’s, blood smearing and sliding messily between them. And when they parted this time, it was only to rush with hurried footsteps back home, hands clasped tight in promise of the closer touch that would-

“Murder husbands!”

Will tensed and froze mid-step. Hannibal suspected he would have already bundled the young man pointing at them into the nearest available alley had he not been held in place by Hannibal's grip on his arm. It wouldn't do for Will to go off half-cocked (the consequences tended to be messy) and, besides, it wasn't fear with which they were being regarded. The young man – early-twenties, clearly inebriated, dressed in a swirling black cloak and clutching a bright red sword of some sort – was beaming at the pair with enthusiastic delight.

“You're the first to correctly identify us,” Hannibal said, his tone affable and pleased and giving absolutely no hint that he would snap this young man’s rather scrawny neck at the first sign of a threat.

The young man grinned and shook his head. “Yeah, I bet most people think you're a couple of Patrick Batemans, with the plastic get-up and the blood. Dummies. Obviously you're them, Will and Hannibal; Bateman had a raincoat, not a onesie!”

Will fidgeted as their admirer rambled, clearly uncomfortable with the scrutiny. Hannibal, for his part, though not exactly pleased by the description of his hunting suit as a “onesie,” was rather amused by the young man’s familiarity with his story, allowing him to give a semi-factual account of their previous life he had clearly put together from Internet chatrooms and the ever-lurid speculation of one Freddie Lounds. Until:

“I mean, your costumes are almost perfect.”

Hannibal frowned. “Almost?”

“Yeah, I mean, obviously the real Will Graham's a lot shorter than your friend. Like, you should be towering over him, but I guess you can't do anything about that.”

“Indeed, I could hardly be said to dwarf my dear husband.”

“I mean, I guess you could wear lifts like Robert Downey... oh wait, you're really married? I thought maybe the rings were just part of the costume…”

“Mmm, for almost six months now,” Hannibal replied, squeezing Will’s arm and smirking at the glower he got in response.

“Ok, cool. So, also, your husband's way too built to be Will – the real one’s all scrawny and delicate, no muscles on him at all. The hair’s good though, and the scowling - it's amazing nobody realised Graham was a killer for so long, every photo of him looks like he'd murder everyone in a ten mile radius just for existing.”

“Might still,” Will muttered, so low that even Hannibal barely heard it. He smirked and tried not to get distracted by the image of Will cutting a bloody swathe through the throngs of be-costumed revellers. Instead, he delivered a small pinch to the inside of Will’s elbow and returned his attention to their admirer.

“Forgive me if I'm not too disappointed that my husband is a more impressive specimen than the actual Mr Graham,” he said, with a wink that automatically caused Will to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, don't blame you,” the young man grinned in response. “And you're pretty much dead on. I mean, you're not blond and your eyes aren't red but you've got his cheekbones, for sure. And the accent. Just one thing, though,”

“Oh?” Hannibal raised a brow.

“Well, it's just that Lecter would never go around being so obviously affectionate. I mean, he's an evil sociopath, right, so he can't feel love? Whereas you guys, it's so obvious that you're totally into each other, no way Lecter and Graham would behave like that. Especially you,” he said, gesturing towards a rapidly-less-amused Hannibal, “you were pretty much draped all over your ‘Will’ here, Lecter’s way too much of a cold fish for that!”

“Cold… fish…” Hannibal said, slowly, leaning into the young man’s space. “You know, your manners could be considered somewhat lacking, my friend…”

The young man’s expression faltered for the first time, the always-satisfying first gleam of fear flashing in his eyes. But just as Hannibal was about to kick his feet from under him and teach him the true meaning of horror, he heard a snicker from behind and felt Will pull him back to his side, nuzzling them together.

“Come on, babe, he already complimented the costumes, you don’t have to give him your scary Doctor Lecter impression too. Besides,” he added, leaning in to kiss his still-coiled husband on the cheek, “you know he’s right. I’d never have fallen for that uptight, pretentious, emotionless asshole. Not even if he does look fine as hell in those suits of his.”

Hannibal peered down at him, inscrutable. “Fine as hell, is that what you think?”

“Guilty secret, huh?” the young man asked, apparently recovered enough to watch them with the amusement of one who has no idea how close he is to death.

Will winked at him. “One of many, I’m afraid.”

“Ought I to be jealous of this fine young cannibal?” Hannibal purred, the monster already tucked back safely beneath the sheen of avuncular friendliness.

“Absolutely, I’m going to abandon you, my brand new husband, and run off with the fancy cannibal who has a habit of cutting into his boyfriends. What can I say, I can’t resist the lure of a romantic gutting.” Will grinned sweetly at Hannibal. “Come on, what kind of fool would do that?”

“Will Graham?” the young man suggested, clearly having bought Will’s lie hook, line and sinker.

“And I am most definitely not Will Graham,” Will said, nodding at him in agreement.

“Lucky for me, I guess,” the young man said. “Hey, any chance I could take a selfie with you?”

It was Will’s turn to tense at the suggestion – albeit it more out of a hatred of being photographed than any sense of danger – but thankfully Hannibal had never met a fool he couldn’t charm the sense out of. “Ah, but then you might be tempted to post it where the good people of the FBI could see and we couldn’t have that, could we?” He wagged a finger gently at the young man and Will thought that was spreading it on a bit thick but it seemed to work with the professorial persona Hannibal had adopted because the young man laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“Ok, ok, I can take a hint. Wouldn’t want to wind up on your dinner table, right?”

“Definitely not,” Will agreed. “It’s from Ikea, it probably wouldn’t take your weight.”

The young man gave this a bigger laugh than it probably deserved, which meant he missed the fleeting, outraged glare Hannibal gave Will for even daring to suggest he would shop at Ikea. “Ok, well, I gotta go, lot of tricks still to be treated, you know? Have a good night!” He stood back and took one last look at Will and Hannibal, shaking his head and saying, “Man, those costumes really are almost perfect, glad I got to see them.” And then he turned and disappeared along the street, cape flowing out behind him.

“Fascinating,” Hannibal murmured.

“Dangerous,” Will countered.

“I suppose now would be your opportunity to say ‘I told you so.’”

Will’s head whipped round and he glared at Hannibal. “Yes it is and yes I did and if you thought I’d be above saying so then you know me about as well as that kid does.”

“At least he does not believe you to be such a cold fish that even a modest amount of public affection is wholly out of character.” Hannibal was actually pouting and Will melted like he was looking at the last puppy in the pound.

“Please, if our best disguise involves you acting like my own personal boa constrictor, I'm not gonna be unhappy about it. Besides,” he said, lacing his fingers together with Hannibal’s, “I think I'd rather keep the real real Hannibal Lecter my little secret.”

“Oh? And which Hannibal Lecter would that be?”

“The one who is both a bloodthirsty, brutal, beautiful killer and a heart-eyed, loved-up, hopelessly besotted little love bunny.”

“Will…”

“The one who both fucked up my life, manipulated me and tried to force me to be something I wasn't and who saw the real Will Graham and freed me from an existence that was slowly killing me.”

“Will…”

“The one who is both a gigantic, fussy, pretentious pain in my ass and the love of my fucking life. And I'm the only one who gets to see him. All of him.”

“All?” Hannibal echoed, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

Will stepped in close and brought his lips to Hannibal’s ear, delivering a nip to the lobe before murmuring, “Yeah, but only if you can manage to get us home without any further incidents.”

Which, of course, Hannibal did, and in less than ten minutes to boot. For which trick, Will rewarded him with a quite magnificently big treat indeed.

[hollenka99]

The One Where More People Die

Summary: Marvin confronts Anti and learns something he wishes he hadn’t.

Warnings: Mentions of death, murder and manipulation

Marvin is apprehensive when he approaches the door. He honestly shouldn't be involving his brother in his superhero issues. Still, he was hopeful Sean would talk sense into him. The meeting proceeds as usual with coffee and chatter on the sofa. Marvin takes advantage of a natural lull in conversation.

"If I kill Anti, will you forgive me?"

He has never seen such a double take of this magnitude. "Marv, that's- fuck. You know I've always got your back as your brother but holy shit. You can't just dump that question on me."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just... I've been fighting this guy for years and he won't stop. Desperate times, desperate measures, you know?"

Sean places both his hands on Marvin's shoulders. "Listen to me, you are being super irrational right now. I get that you are extremely done with him, I do. But can you even hear yourself at the moment? Please tell me you can."

"One guy to s-"

"Oh no, we are not going there. Don't you dare start bringing these morality thought experiments into the conversation. This isn't some hypothetical situation, Marvin. This is real life. You are talking about killing an actual person. An extremely shitty person but still. I obviously can't speak from experience but I don't have to when I say it will fuck you up for a very long time. I am begging you, don't get your hands dirty. Hang on."

Sean abruptly heads to a mirror to scrutinise himself. When he goes to face his brother, he looks like a bootleg version of Anti. The hair's not long enough or the right shade of green. Nor is his skin as pallid as the true killer's. Also, Anti's ears seemed to be slightly pointed at the top, which Sean is probably not aware of. Still, for someone who has never seen Anti in person before, it's a decent attempt.

"Find a way to arrest me and get me to rot in jail. After all I've done, don't you think I deserve to?"

Marvin has stopped looking at his brother. Instead, he is pressing his face into his raised knees at the corner. "Please don't change into him. Come on, pretending to be him is a shitty thing to do."

"Yeah, no, you're... you're right." He returns to the sofa as himself before swinging an arm around Marvin's shoulder to pull him in. This would have to suffice as a conclusion to the subject for now.

----

Jackie is one of the first to witness Marvin's ecstasy when he is able to prevent one of Anti's attacks. It had been a chance encounter while he had been patrolling in the park. Anti's mistake was shifting prematurely. All it took was a small distraction to allow the potential kidnapping victim a chance to escape. Cat hadn't seen where the guy had run off to but at least he was safe. The only bad outcome was Anti disappearing from sight as well. Someone's life had been saved, Jackie encouraged him to focus on that.

Jackie decides to surprise him with cupcakes for when he comes home from a shift. The gesture goes down well. Marvin brings up his recent good deed again as they sample the baked goods. Jackie is really glad to see his friend in a better mood. He's seemed so stressed lately. Marvin won't confirm it but he can tell it's linked to his work as the Magnificent Cat.

Joel drops by to hang out with his Irish friends later on in the week. He certainly does his best to act as he does normally but it is clear something's on his mind. When Jackie temporarily walks outside the building for a smoke, he is surprised to see his friend follow him. They make small talk for a couple minutes before Jackie delicately questions whether Joel was okay. He reveals there'd been a death in the family, his grandfather. And no, seriously, there's no need to apologise out of sympathy. Joel rambles a little about the man before voicing an odd request. He asks about Jackie's father. Jackie doesn't understand how that will help things but there was no harm in humouring his grieving friend so fuck it. He's slightly taken aback by the fact this causes fresh tears to appear. It gets mentally brushed off as this being a highly emotional time for Joel.

Marvin interrupts the conversation when he calls down from the balcony for them to return already.

"I feel sorry for him. At least I knew this was coming for a while. Shit's going to hit the fan hard for him soon and he has no idea."

Joel doesn't elaborate. Jackie isn't sure he wants him to.

---

Jameson had better things to do on a Tuesday night than deal with his tormenter. Yet here the asshole was, dressed in skinny jeans and a dark t-shirt, leaning against the doorframe. Under different circumstances, perhaps the glowing red light that leaked into the hallway would have been pretty to notice. It's far from it when Jameson's swaying to music with his daughter in his arms gets rudely interrupted.

"Cool, huh? I think our meetings needed a bit of jazzing up. Where's Laura, by the way?"

"None of your concern." The radio transmits.

"Oh, we're doing this via radio?"

"I am holding a baby and I don't trust you to behave long enough for me to put her down. So yes, as much as I hate it, I am using a radio."

"Right. Well, anyway, the reason I'm here is because-"

"I am not your reset button. Fix your problems on your own."

"So you'll let a woman stay dead, knowing full well you could have saved her life?"

"I am not the one who killed her."

Anti does not appear to be impressed with this response. Arms still crossed, he walks in Jameson's direction. As he passes, clearly on the way to the front door, he delivers a side eye to the performer.

"You know the cool thing about having the gene? There's always something you can refine, explore or expand upon when it comes to your abilities. I suggest you keep that in mind."

Despite Anti's absence, Jameson doesn't feel like having fun this evening anymore.

---

Anti clearly wasn't too pleased about something. The news claims it doesn't know who is responsible for bodies showing up with evident trauma to the skull. Honestly, who else could it be? If Marvin's mind wasn't so preoccupied with recent developments, he may have noticed how suspicious it was to receive correspondence from his enemy shortly after venting to Sean about the new murders.

The note delivered personally by the sender to the apartment reads:

Alright Cat, town centre at 3 tomorrow?

Oh definitely. Marvin wouldn't miss this opportunity to end things once and for all if he tried.

Anti was a trickster, he already knew that. If there was somebody he could shift into, he would. And yet Cat was still momentarily shocked to find Jameson waiting for him. It's not him though. He can't exactly tell how he instantly knows but he does. The real Jameson is likely at home right now.

"Alright Anti, what are you trying to prove? You've already made it very clear you've done your research into my personal life. Why my cousin?"

The murderer begins speaking through his hands. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

"No. Jameson can't speak and definitely wouldn't use his sound manipulation to pretend he could. You've been speaking the whole time I've known you. Do your homework more thoroughly before trying to frame him."

"Alright, you got me. Not Jameson. I wanted to have a little fun with it but I guess that's not going to happen."

No, it certainly wasn't. The door bursts open. Wind rushes in. Anti is thrown to the floor. The Magnificent Cat wastes no time ensuring he remains there. Weight on the chest, hand at the throat and fist raised to potentially target the face. A moment passes as Anti processes the rapid succession of events. That's when he resorts to the worst tactic. The person Cat threatens now looks like Sean.

"How dare you." He feels the cheekbone for a second when his knuckle connects with it. "Stop looking like my brother."

"It's me!"

"He is the last person you should shift into if you want me to listen." The nose is targeted.

"Marvin please."

"Shut the fuck up."

"It's me, I swear. It's actually me." Anti is beginning to produce crocodile tears now. As if that would work on Cat.

"Why the hell should I believe you?"

Anti wriggles his fingers. They spark slightly. Cat misses this detail, preoccupied with glowering. He certainly pays attention when Anti causes his own hair to stand as he moves his hands around it. Sean loved performing that trick when they were younger. Oh shit. Marvin rapidly removes himself from his brother.

The situation de-escalated, the two brothers allow themselves to have the past few minutes catch up with them. Marvin sits with his knees up, one arm around them while the other rests on his forehead. Sean, meanwhile, remains on his back while covering his entire face with his hands. His nose is bleeding as a result of the hit. They breathe.

"Are you alright? I'm s-"

"Oh, sure." The hands are moved so they don't obstruct his mouth anymore. Now the heels of them are being pressed into his eyes. "My baby brother just punched me in the face a few times but yeah, doing grand." Arms flopping to the side, Sean turns his head to face Marvin. "But would we be brothers if we didn't have fights?"

"Don't joke about that."

"I'd honestly take being beat up over having a knife aimed at me."

"I'm so sorry. I thought he shifted into you to try get me at a disadvantage. I-"

"Stop. We'll be here all night."

Eyes still springing tears, Sean forces himself to sit upright. Marvin takes this as his cue to strongly embrace his brother. Sean reciprocates the pressure following a moment of surprise. The brothers remain in each other's hold for as long as it takes for tonight's events to truly sink in.

"I want to go home."

Marvin couldn't agree more with that desire. At Sean's apartment, the two of them sit quietly on the sofa. Neither seems to know how to break the silence.

"You don't have to talk. But I wouldn't mind some answers."

"No, you're right. You deserve the truth."

Sean's tale begins when he is 16. One of the other boys from school had been following him home and harassing him. That nuisance combined with the foul weather made him want to get home as soon as possible. While taking a shortcut through a field, Sean had lost his cool and whipped round to confront the kid. All it had been was a shove. Of course, poorly suppressed aggression had to be translated into something. And when you have electricity at your disposal? Those results can prove deadly.

"He was just there on the ground. And I was 16, you know? What the hell do you do when you've just committed manslaughter? Then everyone started talking about it. I had so many opportunities to turn myself in but never did."

"Why didn't you then?"

"You're going to hate me for this but uh... you. Well, you and the fact it had been rough weather that afternoon anyway. No, don't look at me like that. You were like 6 or whatever. As if I was going to leave you alone with our parents just because my powers acted out for a second."

"I kinda remember it being on the news." Marvin mutters numbly. "...You killed someone."

"It gets worse."

As it turned out, Sean had befriended a fellow student called Will Andrews while at university. The two of them had organised a drinking session together. He had gone a little too far that night and unwittingly revealed the secret he'd believed he would take to his grave. Unbeknownst to Sean at the time, Will had the gene. In Will's case, it had manifested in the form of possession. It allowed him to completely take over the individual and, in cases like Sean's, use their power to his advantage. He'd then proceeded to blackmail Sean by threatening to turn him over to the authorities if Will wasn't allowed to have his way.

As Marvin allows himself time to silently process this, he glances at the portrait hanging on the wall. It's a picture of Sean, some 10 years younger and with barely any facial hair, as well as a woman with her black hair plaited past her shoulder. They're both evidently very happy in each other's company. Marvin would hope so, since they were dating. Or, at least, had been before Emily had ended it in the worst way. All Marvin remembers from that night is Sean going out for the evening, Emily coming over with her key and them ending up hanging out until Marvin reluctantly went to bed. Then being informed the next afternoon after school that her body had been found in a nearby river. His brother had been a wreck following what she had done.

"Was Emily alone that night?"

"Don't."

"She wasn't, was she?" It's clear Sean is unable to say 'no' aloud. However, from the way this topic appears to be his breaking point, he doesn't need to.

Marvin doesn't push it. He'd never understood how she could have been so happy while chilling with him then deliberately drown hours later. However, being 13 at the time, he'd simply taken Sean's word that it was a far more complex issue than he likely could grasp.

"This Will guy's been making you kill all this time?"

"Yes." A voice crack within the whisper.

They meld into one from the force of Marvin's arms around him. "I'm so sorry. I wish you would've told me earlier so I could have helped."

"Not your responsibility." is mumbled.

"As if I'm going to let you be upset just because I'm younger. Tell your single braincell that, Zapper."

-----

A man with green hair walks into the nursery. It's a lovely room, the little girl's parents hadn't done a bad job when preparing for her arrival. The majority of the walls are light blue, white clouds dotted about. Hardly a masterpiece but he's sure the 10 month old didn't mind too much. Little Freya had been peacefully dozing in her crib until he'd approached. Ah, even while sleeping, she proved to be her father's daughter. She begins stirring as she is lifted. Anti ensures her senses give her no reason not to settle. Still, that baby monitor wasn't purchased for no reason.

As if on cue, Jameson comes cautiously speed-walking through the door. His anxiety rapidly morphs into contempt.

"Sorry to disappoint, it's just me."

"Get out of my house."

"How about... no. Or at least, not yet."

Baby in his arms, he makes himself comfortable in the armchair positioned in the corner.

"A man repeatedly breaks into your house and now is holding your child. You're awfully calm for someone in this situation."

"You are in no way a threat to her."

"Oh really? I could do it. Just a few seconds and I'll be giving you my condolences."

"We both know you're not going to."

"You're really prepared to call my bluff in this situation? Somehow, I don't think you're stupid enough to risk your daughter's life."

"I'd simply rewind a few minutes."

"What about this afternoon?"

"Oh for the love of god."

"Marvin caught me off guard and it ended with me giving him a bullshit story. Obviously, he can't know any version of the truth."

"No."

"Jamie-"

The performer holds his hand upright. "How many times must I say 'no'? If he knows any part of the truth then good. He deserves to stay safe from your deception."

"Tried to frame you today, you know. He's thankfully too smart for that trick. But could you imagine if it had worked? Dozens of counts of murder will land you a whole life order. If they found you guilty, there's no minimum term. It's not like you'll re-enter society when she's in her 20s. No, you'll be there until you keel over."

"There is no evidence. I can't be convicted."

"But Anti's been seen at countless crime scenes. By none other than the guy who frequently collaborates with the police. You'd certainly be a suspect if he chose to talk."

"Then I would explain the shapeshifting serial killer has decided to use an innocent and well loved performer as his scapegoat."

The light suspended from the ceiling flickers. The disturbance increases speed until the lightbulb can't take the abuse any longer. Jameson simply sighs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes or facepalm to emphasise his thoughts on this display. Time halts. Extracting Freya from Anti's arms is relatively easy. As soon as he touches her and wills it, she exists outside of time with her father. A safe distance from the man, his daughter safely in her crib as she should be, Jameson grants Anti the privilege of being freed from a temporal limbo.

"Grow up already." He glowers. "I am done with this little 'partnership' of ours. We both know you would never intentionally harm me or Freya. And don't you dare even consider laying a hand on Laura."

Anti puts his hands in the air so they are parallel to his head. "Alright, I get the message."

"Tell Marvin the truth. The real truth."

"Like hell I'll do something so stupid."

"Either you tell him or I will."

"We both know I would never risk him walking out of my life."

"The truth will come out eventually and it will be better if it comes from you. As for people leaving your life, well... I would have physically distanced myself long ago if there were not things keeping me rooted here."

"Really?"

This is evidently the final straw for Jameson. "You have abused my powers for your advantage, dressing it up as if I am doing justice. You have threatened the people I love so that I feel incentivised to do as you say. I struggle to sleep and I assure you it is not because I have a baby. You have made my life a misery and I have no obligation to play nice. Even when you stop looking like that, I don't want to be around you. But of course, I pretend the opposite is true to protect you. And yet, and yet, after all that stress and strife, you have the gall to act as if I owe you loyalty. I never have."

"I uh... didn't get all of that, sorry. But-"

"Then perhaps this will be a good summary." With one finger, he does indeed condense his message to something much more universally understandable.

"He won't forgive you for keeping this from him, you know." Anti remarks.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

"Whatever."

Anti begrudgingly makes his exit. The whole time he travels home, he wonders how much time he has left before the inevitable catastrophic end of all he's known.

[weartirondad]

Sometimes Home Is A Mess

Prompt: “Please don’t leave me, I can’t do this without you.”“(With bby Peter and Tony) The Avengers are paroned from the according and return to the tower but haven't really asked for forgiveness. Baby Peter remembers days his dad returning with a limp and dent heart. Peter being a little genius connect the dots is now clinging to his father he felt he could have lost. Seeing the avengers gives no only Tony anxiety but to Peter as well. He scream and cries when he's so much a inch away from his farther heart. begging him not to go or leave his side.” (Anon)

A/N: Set after You Made Me A Believer. You don’t hafta read it together but you could.  Also check out this amazing song Home - by Stefanie Heinzmann 

Summary:  When the Avengers break apart, Tony is tired and worn and broken but Peter is there and it helps. -- When the Avengers get pardoned a year later because the world decides they need their heroes back Tony is worn from the fights he fought to get them there and Peter is still there.

FF.net I ao3 

--

There’s a dull ache behind his temple when his fuzzy mind clambers back into consciousness and a throbbing pain sits right behind his sternum. The feeling of his chest split open and his every muscle battered and bruised is a distressingly familiar one and for the briefest of moments the air around him feels too humid and dirty.

He can taste the blood and the sweat and smells the burned flesh and metal. He hears the crunching of sand between his teeth when he moves his jaw. He sees red and feels cold.

He’s not there, though, he knows that. Knows it by the way his ribs are cracked in a meticulously designed half-oval and by the memories he can’t push away.

His near death experience years ago in that cave in Afghanistan feels small, manageable, compared to the new betrayal. The new incision cut open scar tissue he’s been trying his hardest to forget but it’s different this time, somehow, more personal.

A humorless laugh slips past his dry lips at the thought of something being more personal than what Obie did to him and soon after he starts coughing, wincing when each and every fiber of his body is cataloging more pain until he feels it’s all he is.

“Jar?”

The name is out before he can think better of it and when it is – warm and familiar and soothing on his tongue – the wrong voice replies, hesitant in a way JARVIS wouldn’t have been. But Jarvis is Vision now and doesn’t have to answer to him anymore – not like that at least. Just another soul slipping from his desperate fingers that are always searching for a meaning, closeness, a family.

“You seem agitated, boss. Do you want me to call for help?”

He wants to scoff at the notion but thinks better of it, eyes still closed, mouth still dry.

“No,” he croaks out eventually because he doesn’t want help – doesn’t deserve it either. If he has to keep living, he wants to do it like this – in darkness and alone. He wants to embrace the shadows that have been hovering at his doorstep for as long as he can remember.

Some famous dead guy once said ‘We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone.’ and that’s exactly what he wants to do. Somewhere without the hurt, the constant betrayal and disappointment. He just wants peace.

That's all he’s ever wanted.

It’s all he’ll never get.

When F.R.I.D.A.Y. stays quiet he feels tears burn in his eyes. JARVIS would’ve ignored his orders.

He’s close to drifting off again when a small commotion startles him awake – survival instinct kicking in, even in a tower better secured than Fort Knox he’s always alert, always expecting something to attack.

This particular assault, though, makes his heart lighter and his muscles relax for the first time since… since that bunker probably. Since that god forsaken video.

“Peter is here to see you, boss, he asks if you’re up.” The AI’s voice is fond and it eases the pain of missing his old friend. F.R.I.D.A.Y. and Peter are getting along. Peter loves the Irish voice and the way she’s coded. To him she’s family just like Vision is.

“Let him in.”

It’s only been a few months since that fatal shooting that lead him to the boy and his aunt but ever since then they have taken up such a huge part of his life that he can’t remember a time when he didn’t have a kid running through his living room, dropping pens and paper and Lego everywhere.

When Peter is there, every corner of the empty tower is filled with life and laughter and love. He drives the ghosts and memories away, replaces them with new ones – better ones, purer ones – without realizing what he’s doing.

The squirt comes barreling into the room, arms clutching a lime green notebook to his chest, eyes twinkling and lips moving with rambles Tony’s dazed mind doesn’t quite catch.

He is young. He is life. He is hope.

He is everything Tony isn’t.                                                          

But then he stops and takes him in and his mouth slams shut, the audible click of his teeth like a gunshot in the sterile room. The smile in his eyes drains like a plug being pulled and there’s something wary in them now – a mind trapped in a memory – and there’s fear and hesitation.

“Tony?” he asks, voice eons away from the happy one he craves to hear. “Wha – What happened?”

Peter doesn’t drop the notebook like Tony might have. Instead he clutches it more tightly to his chest when he slowly steps closer to the bed, entire posture guarded and tense, ready to bolt at any second but not really wanting to.

“I,” he sighs because he hates lying and then tries not to wince which goes less than successful, “I got into a fight,” is what he settles on but he can see by the frown forming on Peter’s forehead that he’s suspicious. “You know how the super hero life goes – criminals don’t like being stopped.”

It’s a pathetic attempt at a joke and he knows that even with six years Peter can see right through his façade. Damn this kid and his emotional intelligence.

“Normal criminals don’t get that close,” he retorts quietly and then adds, voice dropping: “Pepper said you went out to help Captain America.”

Ah. Well, that’s just unfortunate.

“I did.”

“He hurt you.”

“Maybe I hurt him too.”

That makes the boy pause and look down, gaze stopping on his bruised hand that is connected to an IV stand next to his bed. Somehow, when he looks up again he looks older.

“Mister Vision had to fly out to get you back. If Captain America was that hurt he would’ve brought him back, too.”

Tony hates the matter of fact way he says it and the distrust that swings in his voice when speaking about one of his child hood heroes. He wants to take it all away but he finds that he’s too worn to lie, too tired to comfort, so he does what he does best and deflects.

“I thought you didn’t like hospitals.”

Peter shrugs like it’s not a big deal but his knuckles are turning white with the force he uses to clutch his notebook and when he mumbles a reply he doesn’t meet his eyes, “’S not a real hospital. ‘S like home. I was –“ He breaks off blushing and voice small when he finally looks at him again, “Are you okay?”

A small smile graces Tony’s lips and, to his utmost surprise, it doesn’t feel fake. He likes it when Peter calls the tower home. It feels like a spark of hope that it might be one again one day.

“I’m better now that I’ve got my favorite person in the whole world around to blow kisses on my booboos,” he grins and scoots over to make room on his bed for Peter.

It’s what they usually do when he gets back from a mission and is resting on the couch or his bed and Peter doesn’t waste another second to comply, jumping up and nestling into his side like a cat like he always does.

Like clockwork Tony’s arm winds around the boy’s back despite the pain the movement elicits and Peter leans forward to receive the usual kiss to the top of his head. When he leans back to scrutinize Tony his nose is adorably scrunched up and he looks slightly indignant. “Y’ know, booboo is a baby word and I’m a big boy.”

“Oh, you’re a big boy now, are you?” The offended puppy eyes melt away the last of the Siberian ice and he yields to the little boy. “Okay, okay. You’re a big boy,” he acquiesces, “So what kind of big boy stuff have you been up to while I was gone?”

Peter jumps right into it, pulling up his notebook and showing him how he has been practicing writing cursive. It became a thing just before Peter started school in summer that Tony would start to teach him the art of cursive writing. The moment he saw May’s awful handwriting for the first time he knew he couldn’t let the poor boy learn on that alone, so he took it upon himself to coach him on the intricacies of it.

Despite popular belief he actually loved writing things by hand and he had a good handwriting – it was just impractical most of the time and when did he ever do things for fun?  

The kid is still flicking through his book looking for a particular page when Tony startles both of them with a laugh.

“Did you,” he snorts and blinks away the moisture in his eyes that he’s not sure comes from the pain or the laughter, “Did you really write my name on there? C’mere, show me that!”

The hand not holding Peter in place tugs the book out of his hands and flicks to the side where he had painted a big Iron Man helmet and had written his superhero’s persona’s name next to it for Peter to practice writing the capital I. Peter, being Peter, though had decided to defy him on all accounts and had written his name – Anthony Edward Stark – over and over until the page was full. Ending on a half- finished Anthony Edw –

The writing is shaky and awkward because some of the letters they haven’t even practiced yet but all of them are correct and in that moment Tony loves Peter more than he could ever put into words, more than he ever thought he could love someone and he laughs again and this time he knows the tears are from both the pain of what he’s lost and from the bliss – the future – he’s holding in his arms.

“You think you’re being really funny, don’t ya?”

Peter scoffs and sticks his tongue out at him. “I am funny.”

Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou

“I really love you buddy, you know that?”

“’Course I do. You tell me all the time.”

 -.-

When the Avengers get pardoned a year later because the world decides they need their heroes back Tony is worn from the fights he fought to get them there.

He’s scared and anxious and angry but when he steps out into the penthouse Peter is sitting there – the picture of a content child – working on a LEGO set Tony is sure is above his age range and his inner storm calms when he approaches and sits down cross-legged next to him, watching him align the pieces carefully and with his tongue tucked between his teeth.

Maybe it’s selfish to break him out of his concentration, maybe he should just let him be but he needs Peter’s strength right now, needs his smile to build up his own because he’s tired and he’s wary and he needs to be reminded what he’s doing all this for.

“Hey bud,” he greets him with a hair ruffle and presses a kiss to the top of his head, lingering an instant longer than he normally would to breathe in the familiar scent. It’s home and it’s safe and it’s wonderful.

“Whataya up to?”

Peter beams up at him and somehow it makes his heart lighter and heavier at the same time. “May got me an AT-AP Walker Set! Pepper promised to help me build it but Morgan was hungry and I think she pooped herself,” he sniffs as if thinking back to a truly awful memory and Tony can’t help the smile forming on his lips. “Do you wanna help, too?”

“I would love to,” he sighs dramatically and leans back against the couch, watching Peter with a lazy smile. When he’s here like this he can almost forget what comes after. “But I still got an important meeting in, uh, five minutes and just wanted to drop by to, uh, say hi.”

Almost.

Slowly Peter puts down the grey bricks he has been working on and eyes him critically. “You never come home early when you still have a meeting,” he notes, “Unless you’re not going to the meeting but I think Pepper’d be mad if it’s important.”

“Shush,” he rolls his eyes and reaches out again to ruffle his hair. A part of him just wants to hold his boy close and never let go but the bigger part doesn’t want to worry him and to keep him as far away from all of this as possible. Which might not be very far for long.

“I promise I’m going. I just wanted to see something cute before I spend the next few hours with all these boring old folks.”

“I’m not cute,” the squirt quips back and goes back to sorting his bricks, “Morgan is cute. I’m –“

“Yeah, you’re what, Petey? Adorable? Precious? As sweet as the marshmallow fluff that’s giving you cavity? Delightful, maybe? Or what about-“

Suddenly his mouth his covered by a small sweaty hand and he can see how Peter is trying to be serious but he’s failing to suppress a giggle. “I’m not cute.”

Seizing the opportunity he tackles the kid into a hug and holds him close, “Okay, whatever buddy,” he breathes into his hair, “You know I love you, right?”

Soft curls tickle his nose when Peter nods dutifully and he knows he has to leave soon, knows he’s already running late and he can’t be – not for this. But suddenly letting go is so much harder than just getting his muscles to release the small body. The conference room suddenly seems so much farther away than just two stories down, it feels like they’re worlds apart and he likes this one better.

“Steve Rogers is requesting entry to the penthouse,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupts his musings and just like that he feels Peter freeze in his hold and look up at him, eyes wide and betrayed and scared.

“What’s he doing here?” he demands, “What does he want? Why’d you let him in? Wh –“ Then, suddenly, he stills and glares, pushing away from Tony’s grasp and crossing his arms in front of his chest in a way that looks less like defiance and more like he’s shielding himself.  

“He’s your meeting, isn’t he?” he all but spits out and it sounds like the ultimate betrayal. His voice is shaking with anger and his doe eyes, usually soft and loving, are as closed off as Tony has ever seen them.

He pushes himself up to sit on the couch instead of on the ground so they’re eye-level and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Without looking away from Peter, he raises his voice to talk to his AI.

“Tell him access denied and I’ll be with them in just a sec.”

“Them,” Peter narrows his eyes, “Who’s them?”

“The Avengers, Peter, I’m sure you’ve heard of them,” he retorts and immediately feels guilty when there’s a flash of hurt in his eyes. He sighs, head hanging, “Look, I’m sorry, Pete. I’m –“

Before he can decide on what to say, he’s being interrupted, something Peter rarely does and never when it’s important but the boy in front of him who dropped his arms and has his hands clenched to fists, shaking with fury isn’t the boy he usually deals with.

“Why are they here?”

“To talk.”

He wants to walk over to him and take him in his arms again to stop him from shaking like a leaf but he doesn’t want to tower over him, doesn’t want to crouch to be on his level either. This conversation is important and he knows he needs to stay put for now.

“The world needs the Avengers, Pete. We need them to protect the world. I need them to protect Morgan and – and to protect you. To protect my fa-“

“NO!” He all but screams and it has Tony mentally take a step back and stare when he’s stomping his foot and pulling his hair.

“No! No, no, no, no, no. NO!” he yells again, “I don’t need them! We – We don’t need them. We have you!” He scowls angrily. “You’re – You’re Iron Man! And they – I don’t trust them! I hate them! I want them to – I want them to go! Tell them to go away!”

Now, without trying to be braggadocios, Tony would say after helping raise Peter for almost two years and having a toddler of his own he has a pretty good grip on the whole parenting thing but – for fuck’s sake – he’s had it easy so far and never really had to deal with an actual tantrum before.

Sure, Morgan fusses and cries and wails like the world is ending sometimes but a four-month-old tantrum is much different from Peter having a meltdown in front of him. Peter, the most well behaved boy on the planet who rather screams into his pillow than at people and who, for reasons he tries not to dwell on, never ever pushes May or him away in fear of pushing too far and losing too much.

Peter is a good kid. Sometimes he’s angry, sometimes he’s sad and sometimes he has so many emotions he doesn’t know how to deal with that he shuts down but the last time Tony has seen him this helplessly angry was the night he found him in a dark alleyway bend over his uncle’s dead body.

The entirety of his small body seems to be filled with rage. He’s trembling with it, overflowing with fury and what looks like something that’s much too close to hatred for Tony to ever want to see it in his boy’s eyes ever again.

He remembers the first time he had to calm him down, remembers the blood and the pain and the harsh light of the streetlamps and he hates it. Hates the Rogues for making Peter feel that way again more than he hates them for leaving in the first place.

“Kiddo,” he murmurs and slides down from the couch, sitting cross legged and with open arms in front of the shaking kid. He doesn’t scoot closer even though he wants to and tries to beckon him towards him with his voice alone. “They won’t hurt you, I promise. I would never let anyone hurt you.”

“But they hurt you.” Peter hasn’t moved yet but his voice has dropped a few pitches and some of the anger is seeping out of his shoulder. Tony would only count it as a half-win, though, when it’s instantly replaced by sadness and fear. Those he knows how to deal with at least.

“I don’t want them to hurt you again,” he whispers, taking a timid step forward and letting Tony reach for his hands that are hanging listlessly by his side. He watches him uncurl them quietly and when he looks up to meet his gaze again there are tears running down his cheeks. “You have to take care,” he demands reverently and takes another step forward, dropping into Tony’s lap and throwing his arms around the older man’s neck.

“You have to take care and come back,” he presses into his collarbone, “You can’t – Please don’t leave me all alone. I only have May and you and I can’t do this without you. I can’t. You have to promise!”

Oh Peter.

Tony pulls the small boy impossibly closer, rubbing a hand over his back and pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I promise I’ll always come back home to you, kiddo.”

And maybe that’s an unfair promise to make when he can’t ever be sure he’ll be able to keep it. Maybe lying makes him a bad parent. But right now he has his kid crying into his t-shirt and he’d do anything to make it better and so he promises himself that he’ll always do his best and fight his hardest to make sure he’ll always be there to make it better.

[1-800-seo]

— 1-800-SEO'𝗌 ᯽ '𝖶𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖯𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇' —

— 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

— 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿/𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗒

— 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌: 1810

— 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝗝𝗮𝗲𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝘃𝗹𝗼𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗮 𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂

— 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅/𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖴 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖴𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝗋 𝖦 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖦𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅

The familiar ping sound of a new email in your inbox reassures you that you *are* an actual administrative assistant that works in an office and you most likely shouldn’t be ogling the hot guy in the adjacent office building. Considering it’s your first week, it’s not exactly how you’d like to be caught not doing your work if you had to be. You’d started that week as administrative assistant to the executive manager of New Calibre Telecommunications, or NCT for short. He was a slim nice-enough young man named Lee Taeyong; you were in charge of writing or transcribing his letters/emails, making travel arrangements, computing and preparing expense reports and creating department budgets. Just two weeks earlier when you’d said you’d got the job to your brother he’d called you an over-glorified and well endowed personal assistant, and you guess you could say he was right.

This all brought you back to the email that was now sitting in your inbox, one minute old and unopened. Its sender was a Jung Jaehyun, a name you’d never heard before but supposed it was nothing new since you, your self, were new.

You opened it and inside was not the general corporate jargon you expected. Upon your screen was a blank video thumbnail and it’s relative play button, a url link, and a message below it. It read: “For Jeffery who loses everything and who must remember to back up his hard drive.” It also featured a few casual excessive emojis that your computer only registered as a small question mark box, because of course it didn’t register emojis.

You pondered clicking on the play button but decided against it, instead clicking on the url link that was oh so tempting. Upon clicking on it you were swiftly redirected to YouTube.com, you rolled your eyes expecting a rick roll, when in actuality what seemed to be a vlog appeared. The title was “Daily Jaehyun: Post-hotel-hopping Wind Down ⛩✨” Curiosity overtook you and you clicked play, you knew you shouldn’t be doing this in work hours, however a few seconds couldn’t hurt. A smooth and tanned skinned young man lay on a bed in the middle of a hotel room. He had on shorts that were probably too short and no top. His torso was obscured by the blanket but you could still make out his taut muscles underneath the fabric. His hair looks soft and gently rests on his face as he lies horizontally. Next cut is to a glass cup of pink coloured tea and a spoon swirling around the edges. He cuts to him taking a gentle sip and then he pushes some hair out of his dark amber eyes. You hear footsteps in your peripheral and X off the tab. Just in time before the new intern, a somehow harsh looking baby faced girl named Yeji, places a pile of papers on your desk and leaves. A close call.

And so your day goes on like normal... except you can’t get those damn 25 seconds of a certain video out of your head. His gentle face remains seared into your brain. The brand of soft visuals and taut muscles. The contrast of his sharp jawline and the pink tea. The colour matched his gently blushed cheeks, the rose flush that dusted over his honey skin.

And so you went home and couldn’t get him out of your head. You lay awake seeing the image of him sprawled across the hotel king bed, replaying it and relaying it to yourself. You resolved you had to do something, whether that be finish the video or speak to this Jaehyun.

And so, the next day you set about that task. You opened up that email for the second time, this time hovering over the sender’s information. It revealed to you many interesting things. A few of those being that the sender, Jung Jaehyun, sent it from a pc on floor 9, and that pc is located in office 34G, which is part of managerial.

Well now you know this information all you had to do was go visit that specific office in the hopes of a findings. A lingering question stuck out, who is Jeffery? And why was he sending his vlog to him? Of course you have to inform the sender that he sent it to the the wrong person and you definitely didn’t just email him this because you definitely don’t want to see his face, *definitely not*.

You leave your desk and make your way to the lift. Stepping inside, you squish yourself as far back to the wall as possible as fellow office workers pile in. It’s all a bit too close for comfort when you are saved by the bell, or in this case the automated voice saying “Floor 9, Doors Opening.” Everyone removes themselves from the lift and you straighten out your work outfit. Thank goodness you ironed your pencil skirt this morning, never knew you’d be meeting a YouTuber; and possibly a hot one at that.

You make your way to office 34G, dodging past colleagues in the marketing sector. You spot a guy in the closest desk you know as the infamous ‘Ten’, chugging a brown liquid in a vodka bottle you *really* hope is coffee and nothing else.

You approach the needed door and knock firmly twice. Your palms start to sweat and you rub it off on your skirt. A smooth voice calls “come in” and you make your way through the door. A familiar pair of eyes meet your gaze and you begin to wonder if this was a good idea after all. After a small nervous cough you begin, “Sorry to interrupt, I’m ____ ____ from floor 8, I’m administrative assistant to Mr Lee. I received an email yesterday around 2pm and it was rather,” you look at the floor and shuffle your feet, “private. I believe it was for someone else. I came here to let you know.” You attempt to make eye contact but his gaze is a tad intense. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on his brown irises and not the expensive looking navy suit he’s wearing. “Ahh my greatest apologies, I’m sorry for any inconvenience. May I ask what was contained in the email? I send out a lot so I’m not too sure as to what it was regarding.” He lets out a low chuckle.

“Umm it contained a video and a short message, if that’s any help.” You try not to let on you watched it, let alone read it, but the blush creeping up your face probably says too much.

The man you identify as Jaehyun let’s out a startled cough and sits bolt upright in his chair. “It wasn’t anything, umm” he runs a hand through his hair, “obscene.. was it?”

A gasp escapes your lips, a breath you must of been holding in that you didn’t realise you were. “Oh no, not at all! You drank some tea in it and that’s all I saw. I’m greatly sorry for invading your privacy, sir. Please forgive me I’ll be leaving now.” You turn to face the door. What had he been sending? That’s none of your business... however you wouldn’t mind maybe getting to see those muscles again... you clear you’re thinking and press down the door handle.

“**Stop**, before you leave, you at least need to let me explain, and make it up to you some how, I’m the one who has put you in this situation, I’m the one who needs to make amends.” A commanding voice calls out. By the time you turn around he’s stood up and has one hand in a pocket and one on his desk. He looks to be in thought, or troubled.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds or looks I swear.” When he says this he doesn’t sound so composed like he has the rest of the time. “Please, have a seat so I can fix this mess.”

“I don’t know, sir, I have already caused enough interruption.” You mumble out.

“Nonsense, have a seat and all will become clear; I’ll ease your thoughts for you as I’m sure you’re curious.” You cautiously take a seat and look up into his hazelnut eyes.

“Basically, I have a YouTube channel as you might have guessed. I’ve tried to keep it a secret for as long as possible since I don’t really want it getting out. It’d only be fuel for my cheeky tormentors who go by Doyoung and Ten. When I finalise a video, I send it to my work computer since it has more space and let it post on there. However I must’ve accidentally sent it through to yours instead. I believe you’re from floor 8, right? Well, I believe I typed in the computer location code wrong and it sent it to yours instead. I should of typed F9 instead of F8 like I must’ve done. By the way, none of my videos are dodgy on there, it’s just travel vlogs and general ramblings so don’t be too worried.” He closes with a nervous laugh and scratch of the temple. He turns to look at you in the eye, most likely expecting an answer.

“Ahh I see now. Well that clears up a hell of a lot. I do have one question though, if you don’t mind me asking...” you twist a piece of hair round your index finger. “No, go ahead, you already know my big secret what more could you ask anyway.” He lets out a soft laugh and his eyes crinkle.

“Ok. So, not to be rude but, who’s Jeffery?” You pose the question that has boggled you for around 24 hours. You’re met with laughter and an embarrassed face palm. “Well... I can tell you that it is just a silly nickname.” He uncovers his face and you see a sickly sweet smile. “A long time friend of mine, Johnny, jokingly named me that during our college days in the frat houses. It was a wild time.” He relates whilst reminiscing, more than slightly embarrassed.

“Oh ok, that clears up even more, sooo that makes sense, the email was addressed to yourself. I got it now.” You let out a giggle, “You’ve finally solved the puzzle! Can I give you a prize?” He unexpectedly says.

“A prize? What do you mean?“

“Well I’ve put you through a bit too much and I want to make it up to you. How about I take you for lunch this afternoon? Would that be ok?” He gently says, hands clasped.

“I’d love that. As long as I get to hear more crazy stories.”

“Of course, the tales are complimentary, the company is what you pay for.” He jokes, a smile creeping up his face.

[peterpumpkinparker]

Dropping By- Peter Parker/Spiderman Oneshot

Hi guys! I know its been awhile and wow Ive missed this blog-hopefully this makes up for the 3 months of ghosting <3 Word Count: 800+ Genre: Fluff! Warnings: None!

You stared at your complexion in mirror, not truly happy with the person staring back. Did your hair look fine? Did you look under dressed? Over dressed? Was your makeup too much? Too little? Your head swirled with these unanswered question. You knew know matter how hard you tried, you weren't going to look perfect on this first date.

Peter Parker, your crush since you walked into his chem class and fate graciously put your seat next to his. Your crush since he helped you study for chem after your grades started to slip. Your crush after you realized he was the Spiderman. Your crush after 4 months of pining for him, had asked you out. You thought it was a miracle, but really, everyone knew it was meant to be- and by everyone, Ned and MJ. But he had asked you out to dinner, at some new Italian restaurant, and you calmly said yes even though you wanted to scream.

You smiled at yourself in the mirror, letting the happy memory wash of that day over you like sunlight in summer. You weren't sure you were ready for this date- the butterflies you had were practically eating your stomach from the inside out- but you weren't going to back out now.

You walked down to the living room, hearing your parents in the kitchen. It was almost a half an hour to your date- and you were hoping to give a pep talk to your parents to not make things awkward between you or Peter by asking embarrassing questions. But, to your confusion, your parents looked like they were leaving- when they specifically said they would be home.

“Whatcha guys doing?” you asked casually, cautiously watching your mom pack makeup into her purse.

“Oh, y/n, you look so nice,” your mom complimented, her voice leaving a trace of guilt.

You grabbed a water from the fridge, your hand shaking from nerves.

“Are you going somewhere?” you asked before gulping down water.

Your dad sighed, giving your mom a sidelong look. “Y/n, were sorry, but you cant go on your date tonight.”

You felt your heart drop down to your stomach as shock filled your system. Almost choking on water, your voice cried out, “Why?!”

Your mom gave you a sad look, explaining,” Your father forgot he had a company get together tonight, and he promised he would be there, and he can only get in with a plus one.”

“Its required I have a partner with me to get in,” your dad further explained, “some fancy restaurant or something like that- I know it sounds stupid,” he added, seeing your clearly reproached face, “but your mother and I have to go. And you have to hold down the fort while were gone”

You looked between your parents, hoping for a crack in their faces, a way to wiggle in and get what you both want, but there was no way in.

“So- no date?” you asked helplessly.

“Im sorry, y/n, but- no date.” you mother answered, her voice stern but sympathetic.

You sighed, filling your disappointment replace the excitement. “Guess I'll go call Peter.”

“Alright,” your father called out from the front door, “tell him were very sorry- we'll be back around 9!”

Your mother gave you a quick hug, and after your good byes and the slam of the door, the emptiness of the house made you somehow sadder than before. You didnt want to call him- the dread of letting him down, or him thinking your backing out made you feel guilty. But you found yourself finding his number in your phone, and clicking the call button, the ringing sound making you chew on your nails from nerves.

Peter picked up surprisingly quickly, making the butterflies come back from the sound of his hello.

“Hey Peter,” you sighed, dreading to tell him the news.

“Hey y/n!” he said rushed, as if he had been running for a while, the sound of wind making his voice sound fuzzy. “Im almost there, dont worry, I just gotta couple blocks to go-”

“Are you being Spiderman right now?” you asked, a smile sneaking onto your lips.

“Uhhhh-why you ask that?”

“Cause- I can hear Karen through the phone,” you stated with a smirk, waiting for his reaction.

“Crap!”you heard him curse, making you laugh even though the guilt was eating in your stomach.

“Yeah… I am,” he admitted, “but Im gonna change in the alleyway next to your house- so your parents wont think Im some crazy person when I come to pick up.”

You sighed, burshing your hair to the side. “Peter- Im so sorry to say this, but- you cant come over.”

“Wait- whats wrong y/n?” he asked, hurt in his voice, making your heart ache.

“Nothing, its just, my parents have some stupid company party to go to, and they need me to “hold down the fort”, you said with air quptes, not remembering Peter couldnt see them, “so- the dates cancelled.”

“I really was excited, Pete, I was,” you put in after, rushing your words to hopefully fix any wound you caused him.

“Me too,” he replied after a small silence, his voice smaller than usual.

‘Next week,maybe?!” You hated hearing him sound dejected, so to compensate, you tried to make your voice sound hopeful.

“Kay?” you asked him, hoping he would forgive you for doing this to him.

“Kay,” he repeated, his voice still sounding as if you just dumped him.

“Im so sorry about this Pete.”

“Its not your fault- Ill see you later, I guess. Night y/n.”

“Night.”

You sighed, laying on your bed, hoping the tears trying to crawl up would go away.

“Well,” you concluded to the ceiling, “that didnt go as well as I hoped.”

With no plans for the night, you decided to just do what you usually do on a normal night- blast music and try to do some homework. The night was just about to come, twilight coloring  your room with a burst of golden hues. It was beautiful, you had to admit, and again you felt a pang of longing to be with Peter

.It had been an hour of lonely listening to your depressing playlist of sad songs when a sudden knock was heard on your window. You jumped, a scream escaping your mouth as you instantly turned off your playlist.

You craned your head at the window pane, trying to see who the intruder was, but only a pink and orange sky greeted you. You stepped off your bed gingerly, and as you opened the window to investigate the strange sound-Out of nowhere, a red object whipped out from above the window, making you scream until you realized who it was.

“What the hell!?” you yelled, laughing off the fright.

“Im sorry, Im sorry!” Peter unhinged himself from his upside down position, the piece of webbing flying away in the breeze as his feet made contact with your small terrace.

You smiled, nervousness attacking your stomach. “Its okay,” you asked after brushing your hair out of your face- “why are you hear?”

You watched Peter shuffle a little with his feet, his broad shoulders blocking your sight of the railing of the terrace.

“Well, I felt bad that we couldnt- ya know, go out or anything-” he fumbled, “so….” He took a pause, looking at you so intently with those bug eyes on his red mask you felt a little unnerved- like he was staring right into you.

“Uh-Why dont you just close your eyes,” He finally said, the nervousness coming through in his voice. You were confused, so you took his outstretched hand with a suspicious smirk, and you laughed at the ticklish feeling his hand left on yours as he led you out your window.

“Okay, “ he counted, “one..two...three.”

You opened your eyes, and when you did, you were met with the sight of a mini picnic, complete with even a little bouquet of flowers with your favorite Italian food laid out on take out plates. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, and you didnt know how to react to such a sweet gesture.

You stared at it, shocked- how could you be with someone so sweet and caring?

“I mean, its not much-” he began to ramble as if he was embarrassed about the cheesiness of it, “but I figured since you would be home you might want to hang out here- its okay if you dont but I just  thought maybe Id come hang out with you instead of going somewhere so I picked up the food I hope you like the flowers some lady sold them to me on the-”

You laughed, kissing his cheek to make him stop- you knew if you didnt do something, anything, hed probably go on that nervous rant for hours.

“Its perfect.” You smiled at him, happiness filling up in your eyes.

Peter felt relief envelope his body. He wished he wasn't so awkward around you, but you didnt care if he rambled, or accidentally scare you half to death. You were so sweet and funny and new him so well and man, you looked so pretty at this time of day, he wish he could take a picture of you and keep it forever. He sighed, relishing the feeling of your hand in his.

“Wait-” you interrupted his thoughts, “how are you gonna eat?” You pointed at the obvious mask covering his face.

“Oh!” He thought, feeling dumb for not thinking of that and maybe changing before he decided to knock on your window.

He quickly fumbled with his mask, bringing it above his nose so all you could see was a wide grin.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much better,” you smiled, and kissing his  cheeck again you yelled: “Lets eat!”

I hope you guys liked this! I havet been active (like at all) so I hope this makes it up! :)

Taggings:

@fratboievans @grandmascottlang @galaxy-parker @hollandroos @honeymoonparker @hazsterfield @itsholyholland @naturallytom @starksparker @underoosstark @uglypastels @underoos-shield @petersshirts @revengingbarnes @th3n3rdyon3 @just4muggles

[finnofamerica]

Maybe Like - Race Higgins x Reader

Summary: You hated Race Higgins, but a partner project might amend that.

Word Count: 2,432 (!!New High Score!!)

|| Masterlist ||》Fluff《

Race Higgins was not an idiot by any means, but he was very very stupid. A word that, in this context, means “lacking common sense”. He was an act first, think later kind of guy, but the most annoying thing about Race Higgins was that, despite sharing three classes, he was always inexplicably, invariably, unfailingly excited to see you.

You couldn't imagine why. You were just you, you walked to school every morning, ate lunch with your friends, and participated in your extracurricular activities just like everybody else. In most classes you sat to the side of the room, avoiding Race and his friends. They were loud and Race was far from shy; he wouldn't hesitate to interrupt the teacher to ask about something he didn't understand. As a student, you appreciated that kind of audacity. As someone who just wanted to get their work done, you loathed his interruptions. It only got worse when your teacher announced partner projects for the school science fair.

“Hi Y/n!” Race took the seat across from you as the other students moved to find their partners.

“Hello, Higgins,” You sighed, pulling out a notebook to take notes for your project. “What kind of project are you interested in doing?”

“Uh, I don't know,” He shrugged, “I like math?”

You sighed again, digging out your laptop.

“Okay that's not much to go on,” You said slowly as you typed your log in.

“What'cha doing?” The blonde boy wondered as he moved to sit next to you.

“A generic google search for science fair projects that satisfy both of our interests?” You scrolled through a random ‘Science fair’ project website. “Here look, ‘beats are a pattern of oscillating sound intensity…’ blah, blah, blah…. Wait! Cymatics, we can do our own version of the Chladni experiment!”

Race watched as you practically bounced in your seat, but none of those words made any sense to him.

“What's a chalandi?” His blue eyes scanned your face as you pulled your hair back, using a spare pencil to secure it in place.

“Chladni was an 18th century German physicist and Musician,” You read, “who demonstrated how vibrations could be used to create striking geometric patterns!And Geometric patterns are just math, which you like! And audio is my thing! I mean, I could build one of these in like a week with the right stuff!”

Race was infected by your excitement, the way you bounced in your seat, the light in your eyes and the smile on your face.

“What if we did a project on how sound effects different substances?” He asked scooting closer, “Like oobleck!”

“Non-Newtonian fluids, that's an excellent idea!” You jotted down on the notepad you had out.

--

Two weeks later your family had grown accustomed to Race's presence in your house. You brother found it odd, seeing as you complained about Race annoying you constantly, but even he began to get along with the blonde.

“I brought doughnuts!” Race beamed as he entered your garage.

“You are late!” You replied from your seat on the cold cement floor, not even turning to look at him. You were growing used to him being around, and you hated it. Sharing classes was one thing, you didn't have to talk to him. This was so completely frustrating, and you hated that it was impossible to hate him, even when he rambled about things that made zero sense to you.

“I brought coffee too,” He offered, holding out the cup holder to you. You gave him a smile.

“I guess I might just forgive you then.” You winked, ignoring the swelling of your heart when he beamed back at you. It didn't help that this asshole knew exactly how to get to your heart. Food.

“What's this junk?” Race gestured to the items surrounding you, the majority of which were old speakers.

“I'm building the things. I have a couple old monitors that the little concert hall was throwing out. I figured that if they didn't work, I could rewire them and see if I could fix them. I think one of them is blown, but I need to get the mesh of the top though before I can repair the cone.” You explained, taking a sip of the God sent coffee.

“I have no idea what you're talking about, but how can I help?” He knelt beside you.

“Well, for starters, you could hand me that tool kit over there, then could you run inside and ask my mother for a thread and needle?” You pulled your hair up. A habit Race noticed that you did whenever you were getting down to business.

Turns out, tearing apart and fixing speakers made for a fun Saturday afternoon. Though Race particularly enjoyed watching you work in a ratted old pair of overalls that you probably stole from your brother.

“This is loose, should I tighten it?” Race asked, looking up from the Chladni part of your project.

“No! I did that on purpose. The plate needs to vibrate, and if you tighten it too much then it won't have the room to move.” You tucked a bit of loose hair behind your ear, covering your mouth with a yawn. “We've been working for hours, we should take a break.”

“Well, almost dinner…” Race trailed off, you could practically see the gears turning in his head. “We could go to get something to eat?”

“You buying?” You asked, wiping some sweat off your forehead.

“I think I can manage.” He shrugged.

“Sure, I just need to wash my face.” You stood, wiping your dusty hands on your overalls.

Race maybe wasn't as bad as you thought, at least after you got to know him. He was smart, even if he didn't seem like it. If you can explain something to him, he can understand it. Which was a skill lost on you. Since you, for some reason, are incapable of retaining math of any level. He just likes to goof. A fact that made the blond all the more attractive to you as he pretended that his French fries were walrus tusks. He grew on you like moss on a tree and you hated it.

--

After months of working, it was finally time for the science fair. Of course, you and Race were bickering over something trivial because it was fun. You couldn't even remember what you were arguing about as you set up your table, but you knew one thing: in this instance, Race was correct.

“I hate you,” You muttered, “Fine! You're right, will ya stop now?”

“Haha! You should a known you couldn't win a fight against me, Sweetheart,” He cheered victoriously. Race had taken to calling you ‘Sweetheart’ not long after you had begun your project, you never liked it in the beginning, but now, a lack of ‘sweetheart’, meant something serious. You just made a face at him, echoing his words back at him mockingly. You still needed to get your stuff off the cart you borrowed.

“Whatever happened to romance?” Race snorted. He certainly enjoyed riling you up at any chance he could, though he wouldn't go so far as to seriously piss you off. He'd made that mistake before and you spent the afternoon ripping apart a radio and putting it back together again, until you calmed down.

“Higgins,” You sighed, pulling your hair up, “Can I borrow your muscles and get you to move this sand?”

“Why did we get all this sand if we are only using a cup full?” He whined.

“Because Kimber gets them by the bucket full and I'm too lazy to haul cups back and forth from his class room.” You shrugged, lifting your three modified speakers with ease - not at the same time, of course.

“Y'know that makes zero sense? Why would you haul around a sixty pound bucket of sand instead of three little solo cups of sand that only would amount to a pound and a half?” Race frowned at you. You just shrugged and continued wiring the speakers into a small sound board, from there you were able to connect your phone.

Race enjoyed watching you work. There was something particularly entertaining about you putting things together all the while muttering curses underneath your breath.

At the beginning of the semester he simply liked you because your face was familiar. Now, at the semesters end, he liked you for so many more reasons. You were funny and kind and you didn't shy away from him. You told him what you were thinking, when you were thinking it and you didnt care if he was loud and annoying. Or if you did, you never let on about it. He liked that you were opinionated and hard working. He liked that the presentation of your project went smoothly with you explaining concepts he hadn't quite understood. He liked your smile and your eyes and the infectious way your laugh filled the room. Race Higgins didn't hate you at all, and he hated it.

“So,” Race leaned over the table as you placed the rest of your stuff in the back of your car. “Now that the project is over wanna do something besides argue?”

“But arguing is just so much fun, Higgins, why would we want to do anything else?” You shook your head.

“Shut up, I'm trying to ask you on a date.” He gripped your hand.

“I uh-”

“There is a Cross Country meet this weekend, we could get food after?” He offered, nervously biting the inside of his cheek.

“Are you gonna pretend to be a walrus again?” You rose a brow.

“No?” Race frowned.

“Shame,” You shrugged, “I like Jeffrey.”

His frown melted into a smile as he laughed, a most wonderful sound.

“Cool. I, uh, I'll see you there.”

You were too focused on your racing heart to notice the victory dance he did as he walked away.

--

“So, did you have fun?” A very sweaty Race came to stand next to you.

“Well, I stood for two hours in the wind and cold, only to see you for five seconds. However, I must say that I'm impressed. I suppose it makes sense, they don't call you ‘Race’ Higgins for nothing. I don't understand sports, so forgive me, but this is fun? For you?” You rubbed your arms, hoping the friction would elicit a little bit of warmth from your skin.

“Did you not bring a jacket?” He furrowed his brows at you. It wasn't like he could help right now, he was in his jersey.

“No, I did. I'm just too lazy to put it on.” You shrugged, gesturing to the hoodie tied around your waist.

“You are the str- I'm gonna go shower in the locker room real quick, I'll be back soon.” He cringed at his greasy hair. “And put on the jacket!”

You rolled your eyes, but put the hoodie on anyways. As promised, it wasn't long before Race joined you in the parking lot in fresh clothes and freshly showered.

“Do you want to ride me - I mean, with me? Or just follow?” Race stuttered, his face going red with his mistake.

“I'll follow,” You laughed. “My car’s already here and I don't see the point in wasting gas by making you run back and forth.”

“Okay, uh, just stick close?”

“It would be easier if you just told me where we are going??” You pointed out. Race pouted as he weighed his options.

“Fine! It's the Mom & Pop we went to a while back! I thought it'd be a cute first date, since that was the first time we hung out outside of working on the project.” He ran his hand through his wet hair. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Wow, you put a lot of thought into this didn't you?” You said, ignoring the swelling in your chest. Race shrugged, but the redness of his cheeks and ears told you the truth. He wouldn't admit it until much, much later, but Race had been thinking about this for nearly a month and a half now.

“Well, lead the way!” You beamed, much to his relief.

--

The familiar Mom & Pop diner was a sight for sore eyes. It was just so nice and warm and welcoming. Race, apparently, knew all the employees by name and they all seemed genuinely happy to see him. It was nice. It was really nice. Race could, and would, talk to you about anything and you found yourself loving the sound of his voice as he talked about his friends, telling you about the time that Albert stayed over and slept walked down the stairs. Even Jeffrey the Walrus made a comeback.

You were practically wheezing with laughter as Race made faces at you, taking on the persona of Jeffrey.

“C'mon, Y/n, Jeffrey needs a friend.” Race wiggled his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes with a laugh.

“No way.” You shook your head with a smile.

“You know you want to!”

“Not happening!”

“Please?” He puppy eyed you. You caved stealing a couple of fries from his plate situating them between your lips and teeth so they'd stay.

“Dork.” You muttered, making a face at him. The fries were salty, but the reward was sweet as he laughed. The good majority of your date was spent as walruses, making faces at each other, but you couldn't imagine a better way to spend your night.

As he walked you back to your car, you couldn't help but think about how things had changed over the past couple of months. You’d hated him, but Race Higgins was not stupid. He was smart and sweet and put real thought into spending time with people he cared about. He was far from shy, and faces issues head on even if he's scared, and he was light-hearted and fun. He was a whirlwind that knocked the breath out of you at every turn.

“Can I just say,” You hesitated when Race stopped by your car. He nodded, his eyes scanning your face. “I had a really good time, tonight.”

“Yeah?” His lips twitched into a smile.

“Yeah,” You leaned up to peck his cheek, “I wouldn't hate doing this again.”

Blush covered his cheeks, his smile only getting wider. He was at a loss for words as you giggled, bidding him goodnight.

You had thought you hated him. No, turns out you didn't hate Race Higgins at all, you maybe liked him, and you wouldn't want it any other way.

--

Tags: @kingofsantafe @anon-pancake @green-tea-anon @ticket-anon

[caesarzeppelisboyfriend]

!!AOT SPOILERS!!

This is a Zeke X Levi fanfic.

(This kinda turns into Hanji X Levi but I was planning it as I was writing sooo)

(I changed how the story actually goes a little, just a little heads up)

My blade’s handle was ice. Or, maybe, it was my body going numb.

“Levi, listen,” His words filled my ears with warmth. “Run. He’ll kill you. Rei-” Crimson choked from his mouth. His eyes were sad, fearful until I looked into them with a mirrored expression.

“He’s not here! Not yet!” I screamed.

He shifted and the blade protruding from his stomach went farther trough. He gasped from the pain.

“Please Levi.” Clear liquid covered his face. “Sweat,” I thought. “No, tears.” I reached up and felt my own face, covered as well.

“I can’t fight for humanity anymore…” I let my voice crack. I let the emotions that had bottled up be shown, just once for the man I adored. “Let me fight for you.” I lowered my head so only he could hear and whispered,

“Zeke… I love you.”

I awoke with a start.

“Levi! Levi!” Hanji stood over me, shaking me awake.

“What is it fou- three eyes?”

She sighed and placed her hand over her heart. “I thought you had died, Levi!” She let out a laugh and continued. “Good job killing the beast titan. Another titan took the armored, though.” She placed a hand on her chin.

“I must’ve passed out.” I reply, groggily.

Another laugh. “Yeah! Ya did!” A hand around my arm, “We’d better go grab the runts, huh?”

The cold, hard grass cracked at my feet.

“That’s it!” Springer yells.

I look up from the ground to see a wide expanse of blue. I’d tried to remember what I was thinking about, but the ocean pulled it away with the tide.

Before i could stop myself, I was on my knees. Tears streamed off of my face as I clenched my teeth. I gripped the dead grass tight, uprooting fistfuls. I’d been here before.

“You can’t, you can’t!” His voice growled as he yelled. “I’m the enemy, remember? Yeah, all of your friends? I killed them!”

He continued to ramble on, but I had heard enough.

“Shut up!” Anger consumed the sadness. I pushed my blade deeper into him. He shrieked in pain, apologizing, screaming and sobbing, knowing what I was going to do next. Pulling out my other sword, I shoved it into his head… and regretted it. He had let his guard down. And I had let him down. Why a “thank you” formed on his lips before they had gone pale I can’t explain.

“N-No! Zeke! Please! No!” I yelled, hoping it would make him come back. “Why? What the h*ll is wrong with you?!” I shook his unmoving body, until black filled the corners of my eyes. The heavy wind was nearly a breeze. “No. What’s wrong with me?”

“You go on ahead, I don’t think I can stand.”

“Humanity’s strongest soldier can’t stand?” Whatever she said next was was a blur, because my mind had shot back to what I had said mere hours before.

“Whaddaya think?” Hanji looked at me expectantly.

“Huh? Oh… yeah.”

“Whaaa?!” Her eyes grew wide. “Levi! Snap outta it! Reiner is a bad guy! He doesn’t deserve forgiveness!” She stuck up her chin and folded her arms. Shooting me a glance, she spun to face the door and left.

“Corporal! Are you alright?” Armin had climbed out of the water and was at my side, worry eating at his face. He can’t bare the real facts. He’s not a snitch, but just a kid. His grip on my arm shook.

“Yeah, yes,” I stood and wiped my grass stained knees. Clearing my throat I added, “Are we going to… cross?”

The tension grew with the silence.

“No.”

“Ackerman? Heard about you. Never thought you were real,” I had gone outside of the walls on a scouting thingy. “What are you doing? Outside of the walls?” This mysterious man continued.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I motioned towards my clothes, and my gear.

He scowled like my answer wasn’t good enough for him. Before any words exited his mouth, horse hooves hitting the ground echoed from behind us.

“Good luck.” He said before running off back into the forest.

“Levi!” Erwin jumped from his horse and ran to me. “What are you doing? Titans have been spotted!”

“I saw a citizen wandering outside of the walls.”

“I was just in the heat of the moment,” I rest my head lightly on the pillow, seeing if the pain was still there, or if it was bearable enough to relax. “I’m not swooning for the bad guy. And I’m going to fight for humanity till my last breath,” My thoughts grew quiet as my heart beat filled my ears. “I’m not in love.”

The candle set on the window made of bars flashed orange onto the note on the floor. “Not with him.”

“Only you, Levi.” Hanji’s eyes burnt into the back of my head.

“Me? Three eyes, are you feeling fine?” I whipped my head around to face her, expecting a cold, dead expression. Instead, a smile danced across her lips.

“No Levi! We don’t have a plan yet!” She burst into laughter, which usually infuriated me, but my mind was somewhere else. Zeke had jumped into my mind. What would he be doing, if he wasn’t… if I hadn’t…

“Sorry.” I say. Erwin raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. I grab my horse and ignore his looks.

“Levi?” He begins.

“Don’t we have somewhere to be? Titans are attacking.” I interrupt.

“Isn’t there a citizen outside of the walls? We should-“

“One person or the entire scout regiment?”

Jumping on his horse, he motions for me to follow him. Shooting me occasional glances, we ride back to the center of formation. Who was he?

I wasn’t dozing off, not yet. I haven’t read this note, the note everyone thinks is the reason why the colossal and armored attacked, and who made them. But I knew what it was. The confession of how he felt towards me. It was about the plans we made to see each other when he left, or when the war died down.

“Why’d I do it?” I wiped the tears that had fell down my face. No more stalling. I grab the note off of the floor and tore it open.

“Levi. Don’t be mad. Please, it’s all I ask. Read through and kill me if you need to, but I want you to know how I feel.”

“Tsk,” I wiped him from my mind. “Well, let’s go back.” I turned to face the way we came.

“Levi! You haven’t even touched the water yet!” Hanji tried to grab my arm but I pulled out of her grasp.

“It’s probably poisonous.” I snap at her.

She scowls and grips my shoulders, spinning me to face her. Her eye was cold as her words shot into my body, freezing me. “It’s because of him isn’t it?”

I feel my face go pale. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hanj.” I stare at her chest, not daring to meet her gaze.

“Zeke.”

“Haven’t seen you in a while.” swords drawn, I circle the beast titan, now back to human.

“Am I a refreshing sight?” He smirks and follows me with his eyes.

“I can’t believe that ugly of a titan was human,” I stand still. “Didn’t expect that.” I point the tip of my blade to his torso, which was rather muscular.

His smirk was wiped by confusion, covering his face with red.

“Tsk,” Embarrassment filled every inch of me. “Stop staring like that.” I yell.

“Yeah,” He looks away as I drop my defensive posture. “You gonna leave it at that, eh?”

“Shut up.” My face burnt hot, causing me to look to my feet. My hands began to shake as I hear his footsteps slowly recede. “D*mmit! You could’ve killed him!” I squeeze through my teeth. “Would you have?”

“I didn’t want to think of you as anything more than an enemy, but I don’t think of any of you that way. Please, a few more years and I’ll tell everyone the truth. That’s not what this letter is about though. It’s about how I don’t think of you as a devil, but as a lover. You don’t know anything that happens across the ocean, but we hate you. I can’t tell you much more but I can tell you that I love you and I always have. You do have a bit of charm behind that menacing front. Signed, Zeke Jaeger,”

Tears filled my eyes. He loved me? I thought it was one sided, I thought that he wouldn’t care about love, I thought that the true reason he said I can’t love him is because he didn’t feel the same back. It would be easier if that were true.

“Because of Zeke,” I flick her forehead. Moving her hand to rub the bruise I left, I pull out of her arms. “The beast titan? No, Hanj.”

My body was violently shaking the way it had when he was around. “That’s crazy.”

“What’s crazy is that you thought you could hide it for this long,” a tear slipped down her cheek, and an urge to wipe it away swept over me. “I thought we… I thought you…” furrowing her eyebrows, she wiped the tears away herself. “I saw the way you looked at him Levi. When Erwin told you his plan to kill him, you were shocked. Why? Why, Levi? You held back. You could’ve killed him but you held back. And when you were describing him, yeah? Remember? When you met him first. What was that look? Huh? Why’d you look sad? Why’d you pull away from me? I just,” She shook her head. “I thought I loved you.”

“Haven't seen you in a while? What did that mean?” Hanji rubbed her chin. “What else ya got Levi?”

“That’s it.” I cross my arms.

“May I ask a question? Why didn’t you attack?” She looked at me expectantly. The feeling that washed over me when I pointed at his edged frame hit me again. “I ran out of blades.”

She looked hurt. “So are ya sure you’ve never seen him before, I mean, ever?”

“Tsk. When we fought his titan form.”

“Alright, I guess I’ll go…”

“Wait! Hanj, I…” I sighed. “I have seen him once before.” What was the point of lying? What did I have to hide?

Years had passed. Since we had reached the ocean. Since Hanji smiled her dopey smile when she caught me staring. Since she cared about me.

But I didn’t need her to. I had somebody else.

“You look the same as always, Levi.” Zeke says.

“Yeah? Well I can’t say you aged well.” My eyes met his for a brief moment before I looked away.

“I’ve missed you. A lot.”

Most people on the airship glances over, shocked looks on their faces from overhearing, but quickly looked away. Eren didn’t seem to even notice we were talking.

“Sasha’s dead!” Connie bursts through the door, sobbing and shaking.

“Blaus?” I think. Grief fills my face and body for a second, shock sinking to the bottom of my stomach.

I quickly fix myself and let Springer and Kirschtein react for me. That was the eighth death on this mission. I could’ve saved them, if I had been faster. I could’ve saved her.

Everything around me was blurry and dizzying but I stayed calm and collected. And I hoped Hanji had seen. I had changed, for her.

“Hanji. I don’t… I don’t love him. I promise, promise.” I say, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I hate you, Levi! I’ve never liked you! I just put up with you because I had to! I had to, you hear me?! I hate you!” She screamed, hitting a low I’d thought she’d never feel, she was such a happy person. Her tears had reddened her bright eye.

“Hanji-“

“No! Shut up!” She balled her hands into fists. “For once! Show me something!” Her fist hit my cheek and sent me to the ground. Pain surged like a heartbeat through my face. But what hurt more were her words. I looked at the kids, who stood wading in the water. Blood fell from my mouth like the tears fell from my eyes.

“On top of a roof?” Hanji has her notes out and was scribbling every word I said down.

“Yeah, Four Eyes, how many times do I have to say it?”

“Oh, Levi! We don’t want any discrepancies in our data!”

“Tsk,” I smiled, but turned away so she couldn’t see. “Nerd.”

“Yeah…. I am a nerd,” She set down her book and placed her hand on mine. “At least a cute one, right?”

“A nerd with dirty glasses, when did you last wash those things? How do you see?” She pulled her hand away. I turned back to her to see a frown.

“It seems that I put ‘forest’ instead of ‘roof’.”

We buried Sasha and the others who had passed. Hanji wasn’t there. As the commander, everyone thought she was busy. Four years later and she’s still angry. No, not angry.

“Sad.” Jean said.

“Don’t you think it’s a little more than sad, Jean?” Connie was tearing up. “Just a little more?”

I knocked on the door to her office.

“Come in!” She yelled.

The door clicked and her eyes met mine. “Hanj,”

“Levi. Go. Please… leave me alone.” Her eyes twitched like the tears falling down to her desk burnt.

“Don’t hate me forever. I need…” I squeezed my eyes close. “You.” I whispered.

“W-what?” She whispered lightly, just loud enough for me to hear.

“I need you, Hanji! I always have! I’ve thought about you everyday! Hate me, Hanji! That’s okay! But please, be by me again! If you could bare me for all of those years before just bare me for the few years I’ve got left!” I cried. “Please! I love you! So much...”

“I guess that counts as you showing me something, huh?” She’s stood up from her desk and walked over to me.

We stare at each other for a moment, until the want gets too hard to bare. I put my hand behind her head and pull her in, squeezing her lips onto mine. I close my eyes and let her place her hands on my back.

“Levi…”

Zeke and I sat alone in the back of the carriage.

“So, you didn’t die, big guy?” I glanced at him, arms crossed.

“I couldn’t, not without ever doing this,” He stood, unmoving even though the carriage had hit rocks dotting the road. “I love you, Levi,”

Before he could grab my hand and sit by me, “You can’t,” Pain. I looked to his face and all that was there was pain. Had I really said it? I wondered if that’s how I looked when those words had hit me. Had I meant it?

“She special to you?” I had zoned out while Zeke was talking to me.

“Hmm? Who?”

“That Hanji girl.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I feel my cheeks blush up. “Was I really talking about her?”

“Uh-huh.”

I wiggle my toes into the sand. “It’s gorgeous…”

“What? The ocean? When you come home with me we can watch the waves every night.”

I stared out into the sunset. I sigh. “I should probably get going…”

“I could help you get back it’d be faster.”

“I don’t want to risk you getting caught. And what would my horse do?”

He chuckled. “Don’t get eaten.” He elbowed me in the ribs and stood. He reached a hand to help me up and soon I was back on my horse, riding back to the walls.

“I need to stop doing this.”

When I reached the walls Hanji was waiting for me.

“Levi! What were you thinking?!” She gripped my arm. “What if there were titans?! We go as a group for a reason, Levi!”

“I’m strong enough, Four Eyes.” I pulled out of her grip.

“Levi!”

“There’s too much blood!”

Hanji?

“Levi! God, please! Wake up!”

Zeke?

“Hey. Levi,”. I turned to see Erwin. “So, did you find what was in that basement?” He shot me a warm smile.

“Bandages! Hurry! We can’t lose him!”

“Yeah. There are people outside of the walls.” I returned his smile with one of my own.

“Captain Levi!” That voice. Petra. “We missed you so much!” She hugged me tight.

We?

“Hey, Captain. I got along as a leader pretty well while you were gone.” Eld says, his fists placed firmly on his sides.

“Oh, shut up! You know you cried for Captain Levi when you had to take charge!” Petra punched him playfully in the ribs.

I smile at them, nodding to Oluo and Gunther, who were never as emotional as Petra and Eld.

“Wrap it around the wound!”

When I was about to talk again, a hand placed firmly on my shoulder. Erwin, again, but not only him, I recognize the former members of the scout regiment. Tears well up in my eyes.

“Erwin? How?”

“The wounds too big! It won’t work!”

Another warm smile, but no words. He reaches out his hand and I take it.

[lokisgame]

Enchanted Forest [3]

[part 1] [part 2]

A/N this part was hard to get right, and you can thank my beta for patiently listening to me ramble about a story she doesn’t even like. Sorry this took so long, life happened, you know. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mulder pulled on a t-shirt with a pair of sweats and fell into bed, face first, between cold sheets and pillows. Who could have thought that, what felt like winning the lottery a few hours ago, turned into probably the most monumental clusterfuck of his adult life.

As he tied his signature tie, trying to control the giddy grin, he was convinced, that his luck was finally turning around. By some stroke of luck, Scully’s call for affection fell right into his lap, if you pardon the expression. It was karma, divine justice, destiny written in the stars. He practically grew wings on his way to Georgetown, imagining himself fulfilling her every desire, voiced or intuited, saw her naked and satiated, looking at him as if he was the best lover she ever had, the last lover she’d ever want.

Now alarm clock on his nightstand showed 1 am and he was too wired to sleep, too weird out to jerk off, and too sick to eat. Whirling thoughts searched for an outlet, and the best way he knew to direct them, was to go for a run, even if at the moment it seemed like running away from his problems.

Wearing a hoodie over a sweatshirt against the cold, he locked the place and took the stairs down, heading for the park a few blocks south.

The night was cold and humid, wind carrying new weather to D.C.

"Wind of change," he thought morosely.

He could handle misunderstandings, arguments, even awkward silence, but what if this night went beyond anything they went through so far. Thinking what it could mean, what changes he might be facing, almost made him sick with worry.  

It was Scully, he knew perfectly well that she didn't pour milk into her coffee, without thinking about consequences. Of course she would be stunned, once he dropped a bomb on her like that. As revelations go, this was probably the last thing she'd expect, convinced he was a porn-obsessed loner, which wasn't untrue. To be honest, they rarely talked about their love-lives, with his being what it was and hers too scary for him to even contemplate. He had nightmares about calling her place, only to hear a guy pick up the phone, and sometimes, after he woke up from one of those, he'd call her for real, just to make sure she'd pick up, as childish as it might seem.

The escort job gave him release, escape, even some measure of affection, but not connection. To women he met, he was a fantasy, while to him, Scully was a fantasy and reality. He saw her fierce, strong and proud, but also playful, caring and vulnerable, he knew her, he wanted her, with everything that she was.

Now he found himself wanting to move past this night, hoping, she'll forgive him this false start and let things between them stay, as they were.

He circled the park and picked the long way back, breath turning into puffs of vapor in the yellow glow of the streetlights. A block from his place, a cab stopped by the curb and two young women stumble out of it, giggling and more than a little drunk. Mulder veered around them, without breaking the pace, ignoring whistles and laugh echoing after him. He didn't look back, or care for that matter.

He ignored the elevator on his way up to the apartment and leaving the running shoes by the door, he went straight for the bedroom and fell back into bed, where sleep finally took him in.

________________________

Startled out of sleep, gasping, Scully realized, that the wet and warm pressure against her mouth was just a dream. Sensation of tender flesh molding itself to her lips faded quickly, leaving her body deliciously limp. She felt herself wet and without thinking, reached down finished, what the dream only promised, a shudder of pleasure and sweet release, then fell back asleep. It wasn't the first time, it sure wouldn't be the last. That night his eyes were deep green with a hint of gold woven through the iris.

Night brings counsel, as her grandmother used to say.

When Scully woke up the next morning, her rebel streak won and she no longer felt mortified, but grinned, pulling the sheet over her head, laughing at the odds.

Of all the crazy gifts Missy could come up with, and all the men she could choose from that list, she chose the one, she knew for years. The one night she tried to be adventurous, life threw her a curve ball, in form of Mulder, the escort.

It couldn't be about money, if she could afford a reasonably comfortable living. Neither did she ever get the impression, that there was anything in Mulder's life, other than the X-files. Granted, they spent so much time working together, that they rarely felt the need to hang out after hours, but when she visited or called, he usually was home to let her in or pick up the phone. How did he manage to reconcile the unpredictable schedule and the amount of travel with his other... How should she call them, engagements? His other employer had to be very flexible.  

"Oh my God, what am I doing," she said to herself, "picking apart Mulder's erotic schedule."

That train of thought felt a little too personal, no mater how close they were, so she pushed it away and got up, starting on coffee before heading into shower. Checking the answering machine on her way, she found no messages.

Sunday ritual usually filled her with energy, fueled by prospect of a day to herself, doing whatever she wanted, but today her mind kept wandering and wondering.

The man at the agency said, that Mr. Fox came highly recommended, so he had to be working for them long enough to build a reputation, still she never noticed anything suspicious. There were perhaps days when he seemed more relaxed than his usual self; were those the days after? Was that what he got from it, instead of money? And more importantly, why didn't he go about it the way most single men did?

Mulder was quite attractive, even she wasn't blind to it. He would have little to no trouble finding a date if he wanted one, but on the other hand, she knew him well enough to know, that superficial relationships weren't his thing. That's probably what puzzled her most. Why a man who trusted no one chose to offer himself to strangers in such an intimate way.

The water began to grow cold, so throwing her head back, she made quick work of lathering her hair, rinsing it and stepping out of the shower, wrapped up in a towel.

Steam covered the mirror and wiping it, she paused for a second to look at the woman on the other side of the glass.

Even if staying in shape was a job requirement, she didn't feel unattractive, she liked herself, within her limits. She wasn't a willowy, runway beauty, but she had good tits, slim waist and a nice ass. Her usual pantsuits for work were a choice, and not designed to hide anything either. She wasn't there to prove herself as a female, but a professional, and if that required of her to follow dress code, she could live with that. She never tried to hide her femininity, wore skirts and indulged in lace lingerie if she felt like it, but she never stopped to think, how Mulder might feel about her, in those terms.

Even if he was hiding his side job, assuming no one was forcing him to keep it a secret, last night he chose to see her and the implications scared her a little.

She might think he was strictly professional about it, if not for that one last look he gave her, before leaving. The hurt she saw was honest and real. She rejected a man who knew and trusted her, and even if she understood that she wasn't obliged to do anything, their history made the hurt echo inside her. She might have said no to an escort, but she hurt a friend, and the thought was like a bucket of ice water.

She dressed quickly, grabbed some toast and a cup of coffee and took out the file folder from her bag. They still had a flight scheduled for tomorrow morning, and the case should be above their private mess. Camping out on the sofa, with a blanket against the cold over her lap, Scully tried to focus on work, and it worked, until her thoughts wandered off again.

She couldn't say yes, just like that. She couldn't just sleep with him, pretend he was a stranger. It was Mulder. What if it was lousy? What if it was good? What if it was fantastic? That made her lips twitch up a little. To be fair, she couldn't rule out any possibility. In any case, things would inevitably and irreversibly change. Heck, even the fact that she knew about the job, changed things. She always thought, Mulder was his work, now, he had a life she knew nothing about, and she had questions. Who was real, Mulder or Fox, for example.

Stirring feelings made her restless, pacing the room from the couch to window, so she made herself stop and peer outside, just to break the cycle. She heard wind howling between bare branches, bending them almost mercilessly, yet unable not break them. The trees yielded, strong in knowledge that once the wind passed, they would most likely still be there.

Guided by instinct, Scully opened the window and took a deep breath, accepting the cold, damp wisdom of nature. This was Mulder and before she decided anything, he deserved at least a chance to explain himself. After all, she wasn't a stranger to him, either.

[muthaz-rapapa]

i kind of hope george and hana wind up together in the final episode, just so he can redeem himself, and people can see the beauty in heterosexuality again instead of accusing men of all these awful things-then again Hugtan has to have a dad so perhaps a blonde man will be just as lovely of a man for precure to have. I'm married and i enjoy the show with my own daugther so it's nice to see like sailor moon like family forming in the future with somebody.

Well, as far as young!George is concerned, he hasn’t done anything yet (that we know of) so there’s nothing he needs to redeem himself for. young!George has no sin.

It’s future!George who needed to redeem himself. George became a villain in the future where Hana is already an adult. He became bad after he lost her in the future.

But if the whole reason he went bad was because he loved Hana too much and couldn’t handle losing her then it’s probably for the best that they don’t get together. To avoid future!George happening again.

I agree with you on how incessant this hatred towards men can be, though. I mean, speaking in general, a lot of them can be or are downright awful (sadly, I’m related to three of these) but there are also a few exceptions who are actually very decent and good. Look at Harry! He wasn’t perfect but he never purposely hurt anyone, he always cared about the girls and he did his utmost best to protect Hugtan. Look at Hana’s father, look at Saaya’s father, look at Henri and Hinase-kun. Look at MASATO with all the character development he went through!

People aren’t bad because of their gender or their sexuality and they’re not good because of what or who they are to someone. It’s their actions that determine whether they’re good or bad and I wish people would keep this mind more often.

…….

As for Hana, whether she got pregnant by insemination or with a (blonde) man, everything in ep 49′s preview implies that she will be just fine. Her family and friends will be there for her and if she really does have a husband (maybe it’s Charaleet if he’s really a natural blonde, I don’t know~), we all know he will treat her and their baby well. Because I think we can trust Hana to choose the right partner for herself. She’s smart enough to know she can’t be with anyone who can potentially hurt her or other people.

And if there’s one thing for sure, anyone who loves Hana dearly will do everything in their power to make sure her partner (whether it’s a guy or a girl) is worthy of her. They have to be kind, sane, willing to commit, respect her, share a mutual understanding with her and do all the basic necessary things to make the marriage work. Otherwise, it’s a no-go.

Hana said it herself, you can’t embrace the future alone. But if you find someone who can stand with you to face it together, there’s nothing you can’t be and nothing you can’t do. And whether you’re a family that consists of a heterosexual couple and however many children or a homosexual couple and however many children or a single parent with just one child and many relatives and friends supporting you, there isn’t one that’s more beautiful than the other. All of them are beautiful so long as the relationship is healthy.

[Btw, I’m not putting your comment down or anything (cuz your family sounds absolutely lovely and I’m so happy to hear you watch Precure with your daughter, that’s so sweet~!), I just wanted to make a point]

…I’m sorry I went on a ramble. My RL situation is a wreck so when these topics veer close to home, I can get quite emotional. Please forgive me. *bows*