#sometimes you have a really bad year creatively-speaking and then all the ideas hit at once as soon as the writer's block clears

[haledamage]

finish your fics friday saturday

tagged by @queen-scribbles 💖 leaving my IFs out of this, but even so hoooooboy, I half so many half-finished fics right now lmao

rules: send an ask with one of the listed WIPs, I'll add five sentences and ramble about it a bit. :3

hope you like Etain, because she's featured in a lot of these :3

4 NWN2 Etain/Casavir: one pre-relationship, one in the gray area between pre-relationship and when they actually confess feelings, one somewhere after they get together, one post-Mask of the Betrayer reunion/epilogue, all of them prompt fills

PfWotR Etain apotheosis, with a side of Etain/Vikkari

Riykas/Zenith in "if swtor won't do it I'll have to do it myself"

2 Marii/Tragen AU that were supposed to be for OC Kiss Week, but both decided to take place too early for smooches so I set them aside for now XD one during the Yavin stuff, the other their reunion in KotFE

Kira/Adam snowed-in-as-an-excuse-to-cuddle fic, but it's still in very early stages of making the premise plausible ;)

I swear there were a couple more, but I can't find them at the moment...

who's working on something at the moment? you're tagged if you are! 💖

[invested-in-your-future]

Is the pacing of RWBY storylines bad overall?

Six Years ago I wrote this little piece about the problems with narrative structure in RWBY Volume 4

Ironically, I think most of that still applies not just V4 but V5 V6 V7, and, really, every single volume since V4.

The show wastes time on unnecessary elements and then rushes or offscreens crucial elements of narrative and plot an audience would WANT to see.

The narrative of MilesWBY has exactly two modes - NOTHING is happening or EVERYTHING is happening.

Well, using "OR" here might be incorrect because...

Sometimes both of those writing modes are happening at once and while EVERYTHING is happening offscreen, NOTHING is happening.

The show essentially has, unintentionally, perfected saying a lot while saying NOTHING.

I think ANN review/retrospective of RWBY overall hits the point on the head well:

"This, in essence, is the biggest paradox of RWBY's writing. It tries so hard to cram in as much plot as it possibly can, but ends up saying far less than it did when a tidal wave of creative ideas was the main focus. Characters that could have had interesting and engaging storylines are either truncated to the point of not making any sense or are relegated to plot manipulators with one-dimensional characterization who get a single moment of interest directly before they become irrelevant for the rest of the story. It speaks to a lack of inventiveness in these new plotlines being written, creating the image that they care more about hitting the most salient story points and then moving on to the next batch of plot rather than finding intriguing and creative ways to flesh out the characters and aesthetic that drive said plot forward."

The only part I'd disagree with is V4 being different - I think V4 is exactly the same way its just that Miles and Co genuinely had no idea what to TRY to say or what the plot will be.

Like this perfectly describes the issue with MilesWBY writing overall. I think the key moment is when RWBY staff said after V4 that they offscreened Yang's journey with the arm because "it would be boring". That epitomises the crucial misunderstanding the showrunners have with the story. The story is not interested in those characters or their emotions or their development or reactions to the world around them. The story is not interested in making a point or making characters OR the world change or develop. The points of interest within the narrative are reversed from how you'd write the narrative. Focus is given to the parts you'd generally don't really focus on and the crucial character interactions, development, self-reflection, growth AND conflict are offscreen.

As it stands, that makes MilesWBY into a show which hasn't really said ANYTHING of note since the Fall of Beacon happened. The cast jumped through multiple continents and Kingdoms and yet none of the crucial characterization plotlines or thematic elements had ANY development.

The fact that Ever After trainwreck haphazardly attempts to use character flaws from volume one and two to do SOMETHING with characters speaks MILES (ha) about how much the writing staff doesn't care about having actual proper character progression. As well as how much thy are willing to completely ignore Volume 3.

You could literally cut out everything between V3 and any "Newest Volume" and just have characters randomly be dropped into it through magic and nothing would change. Even the "dead" characters don't mean anything - after all there's zero difference in MilesWBY on whether a character has genuinely died or if they merely were forgotten offscreen.

This might sound kind of mean but MilesWBY volumes are an equivalent of AI generated text paragraphs.

[cryptid-kay]

Is this really a writing post?

I maybe don't actually like write ABOUT writing much, but I wanted to get on here today and state that I've been writing for around 12 years. Started as an edgy fanfic writer, and somehow evolved into maybe a decent writer?

And I wanted to write a post about the importance of writing what you connect with.

Recently a friend started asking about our processes of writing. In this, they asked us about writing exercises/prompts/ etc.

I'm not here to tell you NOT to write using them. But I wanna make a few points.

Writing is Exploration I think I'm not wrong in saying writing is for many of us a way to explore language, explore ourselves, and yeah, sometimes it's therapy. Writing little exercises for me was always super boring because I didn't connect. Or I had to really dig into my brain to find some little piece of me that was interesting enough to write about, and then I'd get lost in it and forget the exercise. It was just a struggle.

IMAGE PROMPTS PEOPLE Alright, I just dissed writing prompts/exercises, but I think if you REALLY need some inspiration. Pinterest. Open the app. Lose yourself in it. Find some artwork that speaks to your SOUL. Then go write about it. Set a timer, whatever your process is. If you want an exercise, use images. Art is emotional, it's personal, and it's interpretive. It's a wonderful foundation for an idea or exercise.

Why I just really hate writing exercises (and you can disagree with me) I didn't grow up with books on how to write. I grew up as a 12-year-old kid who watched movies, read books, and fell in love with characters. And when I ran out of stories on my shelf, I made them up in my head. I practiced writing by writing. There wasn't a "write in the 3rd POV" exercise when I started. There was no, "imagine yourself in X situation," there were just characters and stories and stories, and stories. When I finally got around to wanting to be better at writing I tried the exercises. I tried writing every day. I tried writing what I saw. I tried journaling. I tried basically all of it. I got books, I got online classes, and somehow...none of it improved my writing, it just frustrated me that I couldn't sit down and do a writing exercise like I could an essay question. It lacked all soul and I hated the words I produced. I took a whole creative writing class and came out of it almost determined I'd never be a good writer. Then last year I got stuck after working for 12 months tirelessly on a mess of a trilogy. I hit a wall. And I sat down and wrote a fanfic. Heck, I wrote two. And I read books. And I became 12 again, with stories in my head, music blaring, characters talking, no prompts, no exercises. And I improved. Now I wanna be clear, I challenged myself in my fanfic. I chose POVs I wasn't proficient in, I pushed the boundaries of my prose, but I didn't make it an exercise, I made it a story. I needed that POV because the character needed to be viewed that way. I needed better prose to showcase the nuances of my silly little fanfic. But most of all I needed to connect with the story and have fun. So I'm not knocking writing exercises, but I do wanna say, to all the fanfic writers, to the people languishing because you can't follow the prompts in some "how to write" book, you're not a bad writer. Writing is supposed to be fun. Writing is supposed to connect with us. It's all one big sandbox, so go play in it.

[satsumaorenji]

Would love to hear your thoughts on 2doc together and apart, so to speak; how and when do you think they seek each other? What drives them apart?

Or, what's a 2doc thought you really enjoy revisiting in your head?

thank you for humoring me <3 it’s been like over a week, i’m awfully slow at these kinds of things. i’ll think “oh i have all these ideas” but when it comes time to draw/write them it’s an eternity lol.

i think music is a great part of what brings them together, and when an album is done and the whole thing is over, they tend to drift apart. plastic beach was the exception where the opposite was true, to say the least. their struggles really have little to do with music, more…everything else about them. murdoc will wriggle between stu and whatever is not him. he reaches up for a hand to hold him down, any attention, good or bad, is a win in his book. if he drives stu away, then it only confirms what he knows about himself to be true, that he’s unlovable. if he can convince him to stay and play his games, then he wins. he has nothing to lose.

stu would not admit to seeking murdocs company, but does because of his equally insatiable need for attention. stuart wants an audience, he wants someone to want him, without the obligation of respecting or loving them back. he wants the comfort of companionship without responsibility, and murdoc is happy to oblige. unfortunately, murdocs need for control spirals out and ruins fucking everything. there are cycles of comfort, hurt, disgust, drugs and stints of sobriety, etc etc and forever. and so they drift apart and reunite every few years.

i like to think that, pb aside, when it’s time to make an album, they can capture lightning in a bottle. if you’re to peer behind the curtain, however, i think there’s something to be said about their differences drawing them near just as much as what they have in common. what distinguishes them is pain. stuart has no use for it, he doesn’t see how murdoc can enjoy it, why he chases it. stu will numb himself to death, and murdoc will speed through road signs and mailboxes before he lets it stop him. there’s an endless fascination, something unspoken and not quite understood. as murdoc is apt to remind him, stu will always come back. when he’s left and had his fill of travels and women, failed relationships, failed solo creative endeavors, he will be waiting to start the cycle again.

as for 2doc thoughts i keep revisiting…well, if this whole answer doesn’t make it obvious, when i think of 2doc lately i think a lot about your works and characterization! sometimes i like to think about 2doc having a wild house party gone out of control. at the start they’re giggling and drinking and smoking, mingling with the party people. it doesn’t take murdoc long to say something that rubs stu the wrong way and throw off the vibe. maybe he outs them a bit too blatantly for comfort, or he strikes an even deeper chord and minimizes stuarts trauma in front of others. bonus points if paula is there to make it awkward and whip up further chaos. 2doc drunkenly arguing, having a pathetic attempt at a fistfight. spindly limbs not accomplishing much. the girls that were previously draped around their shoulders are sobering up and making arrangements to leave, a beer can flies and hits someone on the head. good old fashioned fun.

[tranquilspot]

John: Combine fake arms with cake.

It's, kinda funny I guess? Now that I think about it, John's type of humor is a mix between absurdist and uncanniness. It reminds of an outdoors exhibit I saw years ago in a park. Giant hands on a hill. It was so chilling and kinda supernatural. Needless to say I hated those and refused to get closer. Huh, never thought about it until now. I suppose that in a cartoony style it's fine, but if I were to see those arms sticking out of the cake in real life I would feel uneasy. It'd all depends on the material it's made off.

Oh wait wait wait. Looking again at the arm cake, it looks like someone getting out of a portal, arms first. Don't you think? Yeah, funny that considering the ability John will get much later. Oooooh John and its relation with arms. I'm👏on👏to👏some👏thing

John: Allocate hammer to strife specibus.

Dude really was on something with the concept of kind abstrata. Like, it's dumb but genius at the same time. Wanna use a type of weapon? Gonna choose it first, oh and you can only pick 3-4. It's revolutionizing the RPG equipment style in my opinion. Taking something that already exist and spice it up. If I had to pick, I would say bladekind, fistkind and bookkind. The last one a bit as a joke. Ok, let's take a look at the other abstrata. I'm just going to do those we can see on the second picture.

CW/TW: graphic details, implicit/implied violence

I'm putting those there cause idk at what point my comments are too much or not.

crowbarkind: The heist weapon. Also an important anti-juju juju. I wonder what you can get be alchemizing it with something else. Could be critical for defeating the Bad Guy.

broomkind: The classic housewife/janitor one. Also, witch. pokerkind(?): As in cards? I guess throwing sharp cards can be dangerous. icepickkind: Ah yes, Ai: the Somnium Files style. goldclubkind: You know, that's fine. Better use it as a weapon instead of an activity that monopolize land and huge quantity of water. Fuck golf!

hammerkind: John's choice. Lifting a hammer and crushing things with it can be so satisfying. Speaking by experience. Rivet from Ratchet & Clank: Rift Apart uses one too. gunropekind: I think it is, like climbing equipment. Both transportation and weapon! Nicely pragmatic. shovelkind: Ah ha! Reminds me to try Shovel Knight sometime. Seems fun and challenging!

pepmillkind: Being like, 'haha time to get itchy'. Can't see how it can be useful during combat. Maybe for a very specific situation? hatchetkind: Throwing hatchets sound difficult. Talk about skill! spoonkind: One of Jane's abstratus. A small one isn't very efficient, maybe shoving it down someone's throat. Now, a BIG one. Not only you got some much ice cream, but you can fight and shield yourself. I approve 👍

statuekind: I hope we're talking about small ones. Like, you have to be beyond ripped if you want to use a human sized statue.

spatulakind: For your culinary and murderous intent needs. Would be messy though. scrwdrverkind: Screwdriver.. *cringing hiss* goodbye eyes? bladekind: A classic. Though what qualify as a blade, other than a sword? A knife is a blade but I bet it gets its own abstratus. ?? I have no idea. dumbbellkind: If it's 2-4 kg, I can lift it. Throwing it? Man again you have to be a minimum ripped in order to use it as a weapon. Yeah, I started hitting the gym a few weeks ago. Muscle building. We'll see how it goes. hckystickkind(?): Hockeystick? Hmm, ok. Nothing to say about it.

vacuumkind: ha ha, it's already very deadly for cats and dogs. Can you imagine combining it with something with the alchemiter? Slicing/shooting your opponent? No, SUCK 'EM. And then there would be a space system where you could be creative and add more, change the shape, how the enemies are compartmentalized (or not), if you can weaponize them by throwing them back. Wait that's just Slime Rancher main tool isn't it? mopkind: A dirty job: killing then cleaning. trophykind: Again, are we talking about one that fit your hand, or something bigger? Eh, burn out athlete villain story. fncysntakind: These freaking guys! Hussie seems obsessed with fancy santas. They even wrote a huge rant on their blog. Mostly about how they don't make sense and are stupid. I guess he tried to find some use by giving it to Dirk. Like, "They have to do something, right? Right?? I don't know how, but I find a way to fight with them". ladlekind: Same as the spoon. Combining it with something else should improve it.

cordkind: Different from gunropekind. Does an electric cord fit this category? Here y'all an interesting idea for your original character! ironkind: Okay but how do you deal with the cord? Do you alchemize extra cord? Add battery? Turn it into a wireless one? So many questions I didn't know I would be asking today. sawkind: Another serial killer weapon. Though I guess Kanaya's chainsaw fit in this category. Half of it that is.

cleaverkind: I don't know what to add, except serial killer weapon?

iceskatekind: Hmm gonna find a way to properly attach them to your hands. Or OOOHH ice skating style and pirouette to death enemies. Now we're talking! Although bigger problem is the ice. Well a Land full of ice shouldn't be a problem, if it happens. wrenchkind: Ah! Ratchet's weapon. Imagine a Land with bolts and machineries requiring a wretch to solve the puzzles. Sounds neat~ —>

[bjornswoman]

Zinnia

Requested by none.

Author's note: Hey guys! I hadn't post for a while because I wasn't creative. These past days I lack from creativity a lot, so I hope you will like this. Thank you for your support. Till the next time, have fun and take care.

Pairing: Modern!Bjorn x Reader.

Genre: Modern!au, romance, drama, angst, smut.

Summary: You and Bjorn are friends but that's not the only thing he is for you.

Warnings: Smut, jealousy, strong language.

"So, tell me. How does it feel like to be the son of two of the most powerful people in the world?" The blonde chic asked Bjorn and he chuckled. The brunette on the the other side of him were looking at him the same way as her stupid friend. You, on the other hand, rolled your eyes at her stupidity. You took your glass and sipped the liquid it contained.

Why did women have to be so stupid sometimes? Some of you embarrassed the reast who were normal and not on your knees for a man.

They thought that being the son of Ragnar and Lagertha was easy because he had a really comfortable and easy life but it wasn't just like that. His life wasn't just money, fancy parties, expensive stuff from brand names. Bjorn was holding heavy weight on his shoulders. Being the son of these people meant that the others werw expecting from him to be equal or even greater than them. He had to prove that he wasn't just having a name but was creating his own reputation apart from the one that followed their parents' names.

Lagertha and Ragnar started from a little farm in nowhere and after all these years they ended up conquering the world. They made money and reputation all by themselves. Bjorn couldn't be just their son. He had to build his own name and a great legacy after it.

You could understand how it felt to be their child. Your father had his own reputation. He wasn't Ragnar Lothbrok, but he was Floki the Boatbuilder. He, Ragnar, Lagertha and some friends of them started all these by themselves. You had to prove that you were yourself, not just Floki's daughter as Bjorn wasn't just Ragnar's son.

The name he carried was heavy and great, he had to be worthy to prove that he wasn't just that name. He was Bjorn Ironside Lothbrok not Bjorn Lothbrok son of Ragnar Lothbrok. They gave him the name Ironside for some reason.

"It feels like—" Bjorn paused for a moment thinking about the suitable word to express how it was to be himself.

You placed your empty glass on the counter and motioned to the barman to pour you another one. After that you turned to the three of them.

"It feels like heavy weight on his shoulders I'd say." You spoke and sipped from your new drink.

The women who were next to him didn't evwn pay attention to what you had said, but little did you cared. You didn't care at all about them to bw honest. They were just the women of his night. In fact, not even the women of the night. The night had just started and you were aware that he would find a lot of women to please. That was what Bjorn wanted from women. He wanted to lay with them once and nothing more. Maybe they didn't approach him for only this. They craved fame and recognition, invitations to fancy parties, money and stuff, but Bjorn didn't want nothing serious.

Bjorn seemed amused by your answer. He downed his own drink and ordered another.

"That's an interesting and really intriguing answer. Care to speak about it more, zin?" Bjorn spoke to you smirking.

You rolled your eyes again at the nickname and his smirk grew wider.

This nickname was found by him when you were kids. You were best friends with Bjorn and Gyda, his late sister. As children, you used to play at your mother's garden. Her favorite flowers were zinnias and chrysanthemums, so they were planted all over the garden. You used to sat on a bench next to zinnias. You were telling him how much you liked them, so he found that nickname. Zin as zinnias, the flowers.

Zinnias were you code word too. When you were sad all you had to tell him was this word and he knew that it was the time for him to stop joking.

It was normal to you to fall for him. He was always tough, muscular, rich, funny, kind, grumpy, sweet —when he wasn't grumpy— and ridiculously handsome. But you realized that late. You knew you were in love with him in high-school. He was the guy all the girls wanted to lay with. Bjorn had laid almost with all of them. That hurt your feelings, but you knew that he was like that. He didn't want anything serious back then too. You used to get yourself in trouble all the time and Bjorn managed to get you out of it every time as the tough and muscular guy he had always been. The guys who were hitting on you, trying to sleep with you and you were ditching them not in the polite way didn't dare to mess with you because they knew they would be dead by him.

Bjorn would never let anyone touch you like that.

Anyways, you didn't use this as a code word anymore. Bjorn was the one who used it as a nickname for you and you kept telling him not to call you zin.

"Don't call me that." You grumbled. "Being their son means lots of duties. You have to prove that you are not just a spoiled brat but a man worthy of the name he carries. You have to work to be great just like them." You said and sipped again from the glass you were still holding.

The brunette next to Bjorn rolled her eyes and put her hand on his chest.

"You didn't answer the question." She spoke and you were the one to roll your eyes this time.

These women were really stupid. You couldn't even looking at them. They were made you feel angry and dizzy at the same time.

The blonde one threw the hand of her friemd away from Bjorn's chest and put her own. She didn't just to put it to be honest, she started caressing his chest above the black shirt he wore.

This move was something you didn't like. You didn't like women touching him like that. They could have sex but not that. You didn't like when they tried to be something more than that.

You hated the idea of someone being more than that for him.

And that someone wasn't you.

If it was someone, you would try to accept it. You wouldn't like it, but you would try. If there was, you would move on.

After your answer Bjorn wasn't like before. He wasn't even paying attention to the girls, like he had forgotten that they were there. His blue eyes were fixed on your figure and his mind was replaying your answer. Those words were the exact words he believed. He felt exactly the same way as you did.

"Hey Bjorn!" Exclaimed the blonde one and he lookes at her forming a smirk on his lips. "What about my question?" She asked him in a certain way that made you roll your eyes again.

"Yes, your question." He said smiling.

Bjorn was about to give an answer, a really stupid answer, but someone's voice stopped him and it wasn't yours. It was Rollo's. His father's brother. His uncle.

"Bjorn!" You smiled and hit him at the back of his neck. Bjorn stood up and greeted his uncle the way they always did. Rollo's left Bjorn and fell on the chics and then on you. He smirked and turned to his nephew. "And who the ladies might be?" He askes referring to the stupid women who were sitting with Bjorn previously.

The names was something that Bjorn could never recall. This time wasn't different. He didn't remember the names of those two women he was speaking with the last forty minutes.

"I am Natalie and that's Sonia." The brunette spoke to him and his smirk grew wider. You rolled your eyes again and turned all of your attention to your drink.

Rollo wasn't a person that you liked. He had something that was strange. His vibe was strange. You thought him untrustworthy after he betrayed Ragnar and teamed up with that Borg guy. You had told Bjorn too, but he made sure to tell you that Rollo was fine which you didn't think so. Your father didn't like Rollo too. When Floki was talking about him, he was calling him traitor and he wasn't wrong.

The girls seemed to be more interesting to Rollo than to Bjorn after they met him. Of course, they stuck with whoever have greater reputation. If Ragnar was there, they would be right next to him.

They were still talking, but you didn't care about what they were saying until you heard Rollo talking to you. You didn't want to answer, but you knew better than ignore him. Bjorn would be mad at you if you ignored the traitor. He wouldn't talk to you and he would be grumpy. When Bjorn was grumpy, he was unbearable.

"Aye, (Y/N)!" Rollo exclaimed and you turned to look at them. You forced a smile on your face. "You look lovely as always." He brandished you and you tried really hard not to roll your eyes again. You tried not to look like you didn't likw him but that wasn't really easy.

"Thank you, Rollo." You said back and downed the liquid in your glass. You motioned to barman to pour you another one.

After some more talking with Bjorn, Rollo took the girls and left Bjorn and yourself alone. As alone you could be inside a bar. Bjorn sat down on a stool next to the one you were sitting and motioned to the guy to pour him one more too.

"You didn't seem pleased when you saw Rollo." Bjorn managed to say.

"You know my opinion about him. It's the same with the one my father has for your uncle." You spoke back and tilted your head to look at him.

"He is not that bad."

"Exactly. He is worse."

"That's not what I meant, (Y/N)."

It was strange to call you by your name. He didn't use it often. He went by zin or pet or brat or something else apart your own name. It sounded better than it was supposed to when it came out of him mouth.

"That's what I meant, Bjorn. That man would do anything for power. He is jealous of his own brother because of that." You said and sipped from your drink. Bjorn followed your movements. He placed his glass on the counter and turnes his head to look at you. His beautiful eyes locked with yours.

"Power is dangerous. It—" You stopped him giggling.

"I know. I know. It attracts the worst and corrupts the best. You have told me that before and I remember me telling you that Ragnar is right." You said giggling and giggled too.

Ragnar was a good man. You admired him. He was right in many things. Your father loved him. He really did. Ragnar was Floki's best friend.

"He is." Bjorn muttered and downed his drink.

"Easy, bear. We don't want you to get drunk." You mocked and you smirked.

"We?" He mocked back and you laughed.

"Yes, we, because I'll be the one who is going to carry you home." You answered him and downes you own drink.

It was his turn to mock you.

"We don't want you drunk either." He pointed out and took the glass of your hands placing it on the counter in front of him. You laughed and narrowed your eyes at him.

"Why not?" You asked him laughing. He was smirking at you all the time.

"Because I'll be the one to carry you." He used you own words to mock you and you laughed again. Only this time, you noticed you were way too close and that made your body burning and you heart beating faster inside your chest.

"Well, I am not a huge bear like you."

You were really close this time. Closer than before. The smirk was fixed on his face. You, on the other hand, stopped laughing. You were just looking at him. You were just inches away from each other. Your eyes left his gaze and looked at his lips. They seemed soft. For a moment you caught yourself thinking about the way they tasted. His eyes was looking at you lips too, but not for long.

Bjorn pulled himself away from you and stood up.

"Come on, zin. Time to go home. We drank enough for tonight." He spoke and you followed him.

You felt kind of disappointed. For a moment you wanted to kiss him. In fact, you expected him to kiss you. Women were speakimg about those kisses of him. The called them unique. He had his way with everything. You wanted to feel his kiss. You wanted to feel Bjorn. But you wouldn't try any move on him you didn't want to destroy everything you had.

You were walking next to him, you were outside the busy bar. It was normal to be busy a night like that. It was Saturday night. Bjorn turned to look at you.

"I am going to get the car. You stay here." He spoke and you nodded staying there as he was walking through the direction he had parked his car.

It was kind of boring to wait for him. You had nothing to do. Until someone spoke to you, or better screamed your name qnd you looked at his direction. It was one of your father's friends, Torstein.

"Oh hey!" You exclaimed as he was coming closer to you.

"Are you here on your own?" He asked you as he didn't notice anyone around you. You smiled at him politely.

"No, I was here with Bjorn but he went to get the car. We are leaving." You explained and his smile grew wider. He was definitely drunk.

"Is Bjorn here?" He asked happily and a small smile formed on your face.

"Yep. In fact, he will be here at a minute or so." You answered looking around for Bjorn or even his car.

"How's Floki?" He asked you and your smile grew wider at the name of your father.

"He's good. Just the way Floki always is." You spoke and he laughed. Before he could say anything Bjorn showed up, standing next to you.

"Just the man I wanted to see!" Torstein said loudly and Bjorn greeted him.

They talked a bit about what they are currently doing and about Ragnar. Then Torstein left and Bjorn turned to you.

"Come." He said and you followed him.

"It was nice to see him." You spoke to Bjorn. He didn't reply. "It's nice to see that my dad has some friends apart from his obsession with Ragnar." You continued, as Bjorn was driving.

"Nobody is a real friend around here, (Y/N)." He finally said and you turned to look at him frowned.

"Ragnar, Floki and Torstein seem to be friends though." You said.

"They are." He replied.

"And Athelstan is a close friend to your father." You pointed out.

"He is. I am not talking about them." He said and stopped at the red light.

"I see." You paused for a moment. You couldn't stay silent. You couldn't resist him. You had been wanting to kiss him since the moment inside the bar. "Is that something your father saying as well?" You asked and he looked at you frowned out of confusion before he started moving again. "I mean this that nobody is a real friend." You said not looking at him.

You wanted to kiss him. You felt embarrassed about that. You couldn't keep yourself.

"Yeah." He answered. You smiled and an idea came into your mind.

"Then—" You pointed and paused for a moment. "Let me think." You said again and cleared your throat. He seemed kind of confused but you didn't mind. "Oh yeah!" You exclaimed excited. "Then, we should not be just friends." You spoke like it was something casual but it wasn't. Your heart was pounding in your chest really loud. You felt nervous and kind of embarrassed, but you had just said it. It couldn't be unsaid.

"What?" He asked surprised and glanced at you for a moment.

"I mean—" You paused and breathed. "You know what I mean." You said and he smirked. You were almost outside your house.

"If you want to have sex with, all you have to do is to tell me." He told smirking and stopped rigjt in front of your house.

His words made you feel really embarrassed. Your cheeks were totally red and you seemed like a strawberry or a tomato.

"Forget whatever I said. See you tom—" You were saying and tried to get out of his car and breathe normal again, but his hand wrapped around your wrist and kept you captured in his car.

You turned your gaze at him. He was still smirking at you. Bjorn pulled you closer to his body. You were as close as you were at the bar.

"Tell me what you want." He told you, looking at your eyes. Your eyes couldn't look him in his own eyes. You were looking at his lips.

You couldn't form a proper word. You wanted him. You wanted him more than anything. You body was burning. It craved his touch. The skin of your wrist that he was holding was burning more than your whole body.

Before he could say anything else you pressed your lips to his. His hands moved on your waist and pulled you closer to him by that part of your body. Your body was on his burning one. His strong body was hotter than yours. You could feel it giving some of his hotness to your own body. Bjorn was a good kisser. The best kisser. This was the best kiss someone had even given to you. You were the one who kissed him, but he was in charge of this kiss. He was bitting your bottom lip and you were moaning each time his teeth trapped your lip even deeper. His tongue invaded in your mouth and started dancing with it.

His hands moved at lower than your lower back. He had trapped your ass with both his hands tightly. You left the passenger seat you had been sitting on and moved on his lap. Your own hands were wrapped around his neck.

His mouth wasn't just kissing and bitting you. It was claiming your mouth by each one of his moves. Your hands left his neck and cupped both of his cheeks.

He didn't want to stop kissing you, but both of you needed to breathe. You pulled away but not away enough. You were just some inches away.

You couldn't stop smiling at him. It was weird to look at him after you kissed him, but he made sure to make you feel comfortable. Bjorn lifted your chin by his hand and made you look at him. He was smiling at you too.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed and blush about it, zin. It was just a kiss." Bjorn told you and the smile left your face. You were disappointed by his answer. You wanted it to be something more. You felt something more. But you knew Bjorn was too well. He didn't want what you wanted. He didn't want things to get serious between us, as he didn't want things to get serious with nobody else.

You moved on his lap ready to go back to the passenger seat and then walk out of this car. You wanted to go to your house and fall on the couch. You were embarrassed. All this were embarrassing. Your plans were thrown out of the window by Bjorn. He had other plans. His hand wrapped around your waist again and stopped you. He trapped you between his hands and looked at you confused.

"I am waking up early tomorrow. I have to sleep, Bjorn." You spoke, trying to avoid his gaze. You tried to move away from him, but he didn't let you again.

Bjorn noticed that something was wrong with you. You had called him Bjorn and not bear. When he called you zin you called him bear. This time he called you zin, but you called him Bjorn. You were all nice and happy but after the kiss you shared you acted all weird, calling him Bjorn and not bear. He kept telling you not to call him bear but Bjorn, as you kept telling him not to call you zin but by your name.

"I know that this is a lie. Tell me what's going on. The truth, (Y/N)." He said. Bjorn's hand made it on your chin again and he lifted your head to look at his bothered blue eyes again. "You know that you can tell me anything, zin." He continued and you tried not to let the tears that threatened you to fall.

"Anything but that. I can't tell you that."

"Hey, you can tell me everything, (Y/N). Try me."

You looked away for a moment to crear your mimd and gather your courage and tell him the truth. After all these years you were finally about to tell him. Maybe his rejection would make you see through him, would make you forget about your feelings about him and finally move on.

"I—" You paused for a moment. You were speaking and not looking at him. Then you looked at him again, ready to tell him everything. "I love you. That's the reason I kissed you. I - I have those feelings for you from high school. But I understand that you don't want me like that. It was my mistake to kiss you, but I couldn't keep myself from doing so." You confessed. After you spoke your words, you were looking anywhere else in the car and out of it except him.

"No, no. That kiss was the right thing to do. I like you for a while as well. But, as you told yourself, I can't give you what you want. I am not the man who craves commitments, (Y/N)." He spoke. He was looking at you all the time. You didn't. You were looking outside the window, tearing up, trying not to let him understand that you were like that. "Hey! Look at me!" He told you and you did as he said. Bjorn's hand left your waist and wiped away your tears. You closed your eyes and let him touch your face. "Don't cry. Not for me and anyone else. Men like me don't deserve this." Bjorn whispered to you and you started crying. His hand was about to clean your face again, but you stopped him.

"Don't fucking tell me what to fucking do, Bjorn!I will fucking cry for you and whoever else I fucking want!" You yelled at him and covered your face with your hands.

You didn't really know the reason you were like that. You knew exactly how Bjorn was and yet you were crying over this. Actually, you were crying for no actual reason.

Bjorn didn't talk. He didn't know what to say. He felt bad seeing you like that. He thought that he liked you, but its wasn't just that anymore. Seeing you crying made his heart clench inside his chest.

"(Y/N)." He muttered your name and took your hands away from your face. He cleaned your tears. This time you let him do it. Your eyes wasn't looking at him. They were closed. His hand stayed on your cheek caressing it after he finished cleaning your face from the tears.

"I am sorry." You muttered back and finally opened your eyes.

Bjorn loved your eyes. He had told you that they were innocent and playful at the same time. Your father used to say that those two eyes of yours could destroy the whole world by one of your looks. Those eyes after all this crying were red and they hurt.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." He whispered.

You were still on his lap but you didn't care about that after your confession to him about your feelings.

"Let me finish." You told him, looking at him. "I'm sorry for making you feel so uncomfortable. I know exactly what you believe. You don't like commitments and I am okay with this. We can still be friends if you want. I mean, it would be okay if you don't want us to be friends after what I told you." You rambled, still looking at the man any woman would be on her knees for.

Bjorn was thinking about something, you could tell by the look on his face.

"No, I don't think that we can do that. I can't do that." He finally said after some moments of pure silence. You nodded your head at his words.

"I see and I—" He didn't let you finish.

"You don't understand, but I don't blame you." He spoke. Bjorn came closer to you. You were confused by him. He said that you couldn't be friends but he didn't mean that. That man was so complicated. Bjorn Ironside Lothbrok would be the death of you for sure. "You know that I don't like commitments. I don't date. I can't date you. I thought that I just liked you, but that was only until I saw you crying. Seeing you crying felt like someone was ripping my heart off my body." He confessed not looking at you anymore.

"You mean that—" You tried to say again, but his hoarse voice stopped you.

"I want to try for us, but you know how I am like." Bjorn spoke and rubbed the back of his neck. You chuckled at him and he did the same.

"Okay. Do you want us to take it slow?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

"Good."

"Good." Both of your voices at the end were soft. Bjorn was smirking all the time and you were grinning at him. "Where were we?" He asked after some time, that smirk was still fixed on his face. You were inches away from him again. He brushed his lips against yours and you moaned softly.

"In the part after I kissed you." You answered and as you spoke each one of your words your lips were touching slightly his own.

"Oh yeah that part. Is this the part you inviting me in your house or the one we calling it a night? I'm asking because we agreed to take things slow." Bjorn said nervously and you chuckled.

"I think that's the part where—" You stopped and just looked at him for a moment. Your hand was on his arm caressing him. "You and me are going inside my house and then it's up to you what happens. My parts are ending the moment we enter my house, bear." You continued and his smirk grew wider.

"Then, we shouldn't waste our time in here, zin." He said and you smiled again. You returned on the passenger seat and get out of his car. Bjorn did the same thing and within a moment you were inside your house.

"My part ends here." You reminded him.

His hands found the sides of your top and pulled you closer to him by them.

"Good." He spoke and pressed his lips violently on yours. The kiss was rougher than the previous one. His mouth was sucking you lips and you were trying hard not to moan all the time.

You didn't stop kissing even when you started unbuttoning his shirt's buttons. You took it off and stopped the kiss this time to admire his strong body, that was marked on many parts of it of ink or little scars. Within this little pause, he found the chance to pull your black top up and take it off your body, leaving you with your bra. Both of you kicked your shoes off your feet.

Bjorn placed his strong, huge hands on your waist and placed you on his shoulder. His hand landed on your ass and you laughed. You couldn't see him, but you could guess that he was smirking. Bjorn walked with you on his shoulder through the hallway that led to your bedroom.

When you were inside there, he threw you on your bed. Bjorn's hand went to his belt and he took it off his pants. He came closer to you and trapped your hands in one of his own. He wrapped his belt around your hands tightly and tied it on your bed's back.

"If you don't like anything that I am doing, tell me and I will stop. Okay?" He asked you as he was tying you on the bed.

"Yes." You spoke.

He didn't say anything else. His large hands squeezed your breasts above your bra and you moaned. You tried to move your hands, but that was impossible. They were tied really tightly on your bed. Bjorn's hands left your breasts and moved at your back, he unclipped your bra and threw it on the floor along with his pants.

After this, his mouth attacked one of your breasts. He licked, bit and sucked your nipple and you were moaning louder than before under him. His free hand was pushing your belly back on the mattress to keep you stable under him.

Bjorn run his hand slowly from your breast to belly and then at the start of your pants. You groaned when his hands unzipped your pants and took it off your body.

His mouth was kissing your left thigh, each kiss was higher than the previous one. After some kisses, his mouth was on your inner thigh, inches away from your wet entrance. Bjorn stopped for a moment and his blue, insatiable eyes glances at you. Your eyes were waiting impatiently for his next movement. He smirked at the sight of you.

His hand — that wasn't pushing you down on the mattress by your belly — ripped off your wet panties. Without any warning, he slipped two hands of his inside you and you groaned. Your back arced, but he didn't let you move from the mattress. His hand pushed you down on the mattress once more.

The moves his fingers did inside you were rough and fast. You couldn't control yourself. You couldn't stop yourself from moaning and groaning.

"Bjorn—" You groaned loudly, close to you climax, but your release never came. You opened your eyes when his fingers were out of you. You frowned as you were about cry about this. He smirked and his face moved close to yours. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss.

When he pulled away and his hands didn't touch your body anymore, you tried to reach him, but the belt which held your hands still on the bed prevented you from reaching him.

"Don't be impatient and greedy, zin." He said in the playful tone of his voice. "We have all night ahead us and probably more nights like this one." He stated and you grinned. Bjorn got rid of his underwear too, freeing his huge arousal. You gasped at his size. "Relax, zin. It's just me." He said, knowing that you felt kind of nervous for the his next movements. He knew way too well to read you.

"Bjorn, please." You mumbled and he smirked.

"Please what?" He said playfully.

"Please take me." You mumbled again and his smirk grew wider than before.

"On my way."

These were his last words, before he placed himself between you legs. Before you know it, he pushed himself deep inside you and you groaned loudly. You weren't used to his size. His thrusts were rough and fast, each one was deeper than the previous one. He hurt you at first.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked you when he noticed the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. He stopped moving but didn't pull his member away from you. You opened your eyes and looked at the man between your legs.

"No, don't stop. Please Bjorn, move." You whispered and that was the only thing he needed to hear to continue.

His movements were faster and deeper than before. This time, his mouth moved on your neck. Bjorn started leaving marks on it. You were groaning and screaming his name. You wanted to touch him, but it was impossible with your hands were tied like that.

After some thrusts of his, you were on your climax. Your body tightened around him and he growled. Bjorn knew you were close.

"Bjorn!" You screamed his name louder than before as you were coming.

"Fuck!" He growled and came too, after you.

Bjorn's hands moved on your own whick were tying with his belt. He untied them and laid down on the mattress next to you. His hands wrapped themselves around your body and pulled you closer to him.

"Relax for a moment and then we will do it again." He said and kissed you hard.

[youryanderedaddy]

Imagine a yandere ghost who is cursed is trapped in the doll, so one day a family came to live in his house, but what the ghost did not expect is to fall in love with the couple's eldest daughter. Maybe this yandere ghost (doll) use the younger brother to get closer to his beloved...

I didn't really include the doll, but the overall idea is here ;)

Tw: nsfw, non - con, underage sex? (The reader is meant to be around 18, her brother is 16 - 17, but the ghost is 100+ so idk), (technically) incest, ghosts, possession, possessive/obsessive behavior, slight parental neglect ig

You knew it was a mistake moving into the old house up the hill. You tried arguing with your parents so many times about the mansion being hidden in the woods, so far away from any civilization, bringing up the fact it hadn't been bought for the last 8 years despite the insanely low price or the news about the previous owners dying in their sleep just like that, from "natural causes" even though they were an young energetic couple. But of course your worries had been discarded so easily since your younger siblings were ecstatic, constantly talking about finally living in a castle, which was obviously pushing it too far, but kids will be kids.

Your family was big, consisting of your mother, father, two younger sisters and a brother currently in his late teens. Your siblings managed to take all the nice bright rooms on the second floor so you were forced to sleep in the attic. At first it didn't seem so bad, yes, the place was dark and dusty, the space was limited, but it was a quiet spot and there were many interesting things left there to explore and discover.

The first week you discovered a huge box full of old books, medals, notebooks and different souvenirs from all over the world. The second week you found a few paintings covered by a thin disheveled cloak, most of them depicting a pretty young boy with golden locks and sad green eyes, dresses in an expensive silky clothing resembling what was nowadays considered an elegant suit. You didn't pay it much mind yet the miserable longing gaze of the kid haunted your dreams in the following days.

During the third week you noticed that things were going missing one by one. First it was your favorite lipstick, then your new dress, and suddenly your favorite items were gone just like that. On top of all, almost as if fate was tickling your paranoia, you could hear certain sounds at night that were too distorted be natural and too human to belong to an animal. There were sobs, loud and tormented, sometimes you could make up a few words in a language no one spoke anymore. You slept less and less each night, you could swear you felt someone's lingering touch on your shoulders, them gently stroking your hair and even pressing their cold unmoving lips on yours. This was usually the point when you opened your eyes and screamed in fear only to realize you were alone in the room. There was nobody there.

Still you decided to speak with your parents about the creepy events taking place in the attic. Much to your dismay they brushed your concerns off once again, laughing softly and calling you a scaredy - cat, going as far as to joke around about your "oh so creative" imagination getting the best of you just like it did in your childhood. But this time you insisted on holding your ground, almost begging them to take action and help you. At the end your mother decided to let you sleep in your brother's room for a while until you calm down, and as embarrassing it was to share a room with a hormonal teen, it was better than constantly being on the edge and losing sleep. Or so you thought.

The first night you slept in Steve's room nothing out of the ordinary happened and for the first time in weeks you actually managed to rest. The second night was blissfully peaceful as well and you quickly fell into a deep dreamless slumber.

The third night started well, just like the previous two. Your brother was tired from studying all day and went to bed early, giving you the freedom to relax a little bit before following his example. You could read a book or try to revise for your exam tomorrow, maybe even call your bestfriend and finally let her know all about your new classmates and just how boring life in the village was. But in that moment all these suggestion sounded annoying, nothing was interesting enough to hold your interest for more than a minute. Thinking about what to do next, you suddenly became aware that your body was tense and tired, but your mind was restless. After all you hadn't had time for self - care between the paranoia episodes and the fear, maybe it was finally time to do something nice and therapeutic for yourself.

You snatched a quick look at Steve and he was sleeping soundly, snoring from time to time, his usually angry face now calm and childlike. Making sure there was no one in the room awake, you finally slipped a hand down your pajama bottom until you felt the soft fabric of your panties. You closed your eyes and run a finger up and down your clothed sex, following the line of your slit. Your pussy throbbed at the sudden contact, the lack of pleasure in the last few weeks making it sensitive to the touch. You pushed your underwear lower so it hanged around your legs, and shoved one finger into your warm hole, enjoy the way your walls clenched around the digit. You flicked your clit gently, feeling it swell from the arousal, rubbing slow circles and pressing on your sweet spot every once in a while.

Your free hand went to your breasts, bare under the comfy oversized shirt, and awoke the cherry nipples with subtle pinches causing them to harden. You couldn't help but moan quietly as you decreased the pace of which you teased your hole and added a second finger in your pussy, fucking yourself on it. You were so focused on chasing your pleasure you didn't even notice the hand on your thigh pulling your own away from your excited throbbing core and replacing it with a big hard cock. Only once its head reached your tight entrance and pressed on it did your mind register the atrocious size difference. Your words stilled in your throat, the sudden panic rising in your chest, making your vision blurry and your cheeks rosy pink. You finally opened your eyes, your heart racing at the image of your younger brother towering above you with his member so close to entering your heat.

"Steve, what are you doing?" You whispered as you tried to squirm away from the boy, but he was quicker in pinning your wrists above your head in a deadlock. When did the male become so strong? Just yesterday he would ask you to open up his water bottle and help him with his math homework and now he was doing this...

"My name is Henry, my love." The voice was different from your brother's, lower and huskier, gentler in a way. You narrowed your eyes and observed the teenager's face, gasping as you noticed that his eyes had changed from black to green, yet all his other features had stayed stayed the same. You wanted to ask so many questions - who is Henry, why were your sibling's eyes and voice different from before - but you were quickly shut by one stern gaze. "I used to live here 80 years ago." The stranger started off with an unexpectedly soft tone as his grip on your wrists loosened. "I'm a ghost. I possessed your brother." He confessed calmly while you watched his pink lips part slightly with each breath as if you were in a trance before you found the strength to break your silence.

"Why are doing this to me? Why did you take my brother's body?" You questioned him manically, feeling like a confused little lamb sent to the slaughter, trembling and stuttering in front of a knife. Henry simply chuckled at your adorable dumbfounded expression and lowered his torso until his face was mere inches away from yours and you could feel his ice - cold breath on your warm red cheek. "Because I love you, darling." The ghost replied with a confident smirk that looked so weird and unnatural on the younger boy's face you almost gagged. Before you had the chance to say anything, he continued. "I've been wanting you for a while now, little girl. And with this body I can finally have you all to myself." You opened your mouth in a protest but your screams were easily muffled by a harsh kiss and a wet tongue down your throat. Next thing you knew the man had pushed your brother's manhood into your wet sloppy cunt in one sharp thurst and in your despair you had yelled for help once again, the ghost taking your whimpers greedily and shushing them away. Struggling was pointless.

In the next hour you were reduced to a sweaty whimpering mess of pain and arousal, fear and pleasure. The ghost was fucking you in a fast brutal pace while his free hand was playing with your clit, bringing you so damn close but never enough to send you over the edge. You were crying and your whole body was aching, your tits red from the rough manhandlind, your lips bruised and swollen from the rough kisses and bites. There were purple hickeys adorning your neck, belly and thighs and you went quiet in embarrassment every time you wondered how you would be able to hide them the next day.

"Please, whoever you are, let me come, I'm begging you." You pleaded desperately as you arched your back to meet the next couple of deep thrusts. Your cheeks were wet with tears and you could even taste the bitter salty flavor in your mouth mixed with your own drool and saliva. Upon hearing your meek pleas the man mercifully started hitting your cervix with each shove until his moves became sharp and quick, targeting your g-spot. You were so close you could feel your abdomen clench and tighten from the tingling sensitations. "Please..." You uttered weakly again, making doe eyes at your brother.

"Say you love me. Tie your soul to mine forever and I'll give you exactly what you want, beloved." Henry basically growled in your ear as he groped your breasts, squizing lightly the soft flesh. Your mind was so hazy and clouded you weren't sure how to respond so you just repeated the words easiest to grasp. "Love... you... forever, ngggh..." You muttered under your breath before moaning wantonly when the forceful thrusts finally sent you over the edge and your pussy clamped down in a big, satisfying orgasm. Your bliss was short - lived because soon the ghost was pounding into you again and again, keeping you too tired to move, struggle or even speak properly besides whimpering every once in a while. The rest of the night was a blur but eventually you fell asleep from the exhausting and the pleasure.

You woke up sore, your eyes red and puffy, your muscles tense and unnatentive. You rushed to look at your brother, but the teenager was sleeping just as peacefully as he did eight hours ago. One side of you was more than glad to know everything that had happened was simply a bad, terrible dream, while the other one still felt extremely uncomfortable and uneasy. You couldn't bear staying in the room any longer so you got dressed and went into the hall. Everyone else was still asleep and you felt as restless as if you hadn't caught a blink at all. You finally gave in to your paranoia and climbed the stars leading to the third floor.

You knelt on the ground where you had found the beautiful paintings. Those green eyes from your dream seemed way too familiar for it to be a coincidence. When you finally got a hold of your favorite piece, the one with the sad young boy, you had to cover your mouth to suppress the shock. There wasn't an aristocrat with golden locks on the picture anymore.

Now the one trapped in the painting was none other than you own brother, Steve. Instead of misery and pain in mysterious blue eyes, there was only terror in his tormented black ones. You screamed for the last time before you dropped the picture on the ground and ran away from the attic, the tears streaming down your face, but unfortunately, there was no escape from the restless dead souls.

[afandommultiverse]

Enemies - Zora Ideale

word count - 2.5k

request - Z3ll0us

warnings - uhh none really, language probably, just some fluff

a/n - ya'll, my bad, I'm not dead just not creative, I somehow came up with this in the matter of like 5 months, and it's still shit I'm sorry guys, but I hope you all enjoy! Btw I'm going to be trying my best to come back!💕

~~~

It seemed no matter where he went, no matter what job it was if they were there, there was no chance for him. How many bounties had he lost? How many relics had they stolen right from under him for contracts? Zora was sick of it and made it a rule to himself that he would drop everything and turn the other way when he saw them, but what was even the point? Because no matter where he went, they were always there.

Even now, a member of the Black Bulls, he was having a hard time holding back from releasing magic spells. He wanted them gone, at least that is what he thought. Why else would he get this burning feeling looking at them to speak to Magna like they have been friends for years? But, of course, Zora could never tell them. However, he wanted them to talk to him like that, not like he was just some scum on the bottom of their shoes, but it is not like all he has done has exactly helped his relationship with them, which brought him to his current predicament.

"With who?" Zora could not believe his luck. Of course, he was going to be with them. What else would the fates do but trick and play with him? His suffering must be amusing. Yami puffed on his cigarette as he handed Zora a pack of mission information.

"You are with Y/n. Now go find them and get on; I forgot about that one under some stacks of papers, due dates in 3 days." Yami kicked Zora out of his office and left him there to stare at the door as he thought about how fucked the next four days would be for him.

~~~

It was a cave expedition. Some wild animals had been going in there and coming out with big mana. It was beginning to make it dangerous for the surrounding villages who hunted wild game to put dinner on the table. But, thank the gods, Yami had cleaned off his desk; if not, who knows what kind of trouble the guild would have been in the next few days.

Walking to their room, Zora had heavy feet, which seemed only to get more weighted and weighted as he got closer to their door. Then he heard their laugh vibrating through the walls and ringing out to the hall where he could listen, halting his step and his heartbeat. Zora swallowed a knot before bringing his hand up to the door and knocking heavily. He heard their steps before the door opened, and they stared at him, sitting into their hip and glaring.

"What?" They seethed, narrowing their eyes as if looking for a trick. He sighed and handed them the folder, not even bothering to mess with them right now; they will prove him wrong later anyways.

"Be ready in thirty minutes." And then he walked away.

Y/n P.O.V

I watched Zora skulk away, a different air around him, almost defeated. I frowned before closing the door and turning back to the guest.

"Who was that?" A friend of mine from hell, a tiny demoness who specialized in brews and potions. Aliza was her name, and she was a stout little thing with filled-out curves and gorgeous maroon skin that glowed. Her nails were sharp and black, seeming to glitter in the light as she lifted her cup, which was much more prominent in her little red hands. Red swirly horns curled around her ears before pointing up in effortless black points that seemed to drip back down her horns like minor oil spills. Most enticing were her pink eyes, slit-like a cat and equally as sharp.

"Zora, a team member." I settled back down in my seat in front of her and sipped my tea. Her tail swished around her curiously as she stared at me pointedly. Since she was so short, she had to stand on the table to see eye to eye; she looked adorable under the flowers in the vase sitting at the center of the table.

"Just a team member?" Her pink eyes seemed to glint in knowing, knowing what? I did not know. I eyed her suspiciously as I finished up my meal.

"Yeah. Just a team member who, by the way, gets on my nerves sometimes and is a huge asshole." I took the final sip from my tea and gathered the dishes before throwing them through a portal to hell. Aliza looked unimpressed as she watched me close the said portal. "What?"

"You cannot keep expecting Helltower to keep doing your dishes." I grinned, dusting off my hands and moving to change.

"Of course I can! He loves me! Plus, I always repay him with little trinkets from the middle world." I mused, throwing on my guild cape and walking out of the room, Aliza following me. Her heels clicked on the stone hall as she followed me, surprisingly keeping up for being so small.

"Where are you going?" She continued to drink her tea, which she had reheated with a small flame in her hand.

"Some mission, talk shit later, okay?" She laughed before slipping through a small red vortex in front of her effortlessly, and I continued to meet Zora.

It has been silent ever since we started walking, stale moods rising from both of us. Yami had mentioned that the mission would be within walking distance. What he had failed to mention was that he thought thirty-five miles was within walking distance, which brought us here, stumbling on the only trail that would lead us to the village in need. Wind around us blew softly, whistling through the trees and making the leaves above our heads shutter and shake. Orange and yellow leaves were falling overhead to frame our little journey. Now and then, deer or a rabbit would hop across a few feet ahead of us, some even stopping to stare at us with their beady eyes before walking off.

As silent as it was between us, the forest made up plenty of sounds, birds chirping tiny tunes to each other from the high treetops. We had even heard the roars of hogs fighting by a pond over a mate. We stopped to watch them for a second but continued a little after. Eventually, Zora let out an irritated sigh and walked over to a tall, thick tree, probably hundreds of old- and kicked it so hard, the roots ripped out from the ground, well, mostly. Before any dirt or rocks could hit us, Zora quickly set up a magic circle and reflected it all. I watched in astonishment and confusion. What the hell was he doing? Then, as dozens of birds flew away from the scene, scared of such commotion, he spoke.

"Cut this for me, dear?" I scoffed at the nickname, trying to ignore the sweet pound of my heart that followed after his raspy voice wrapped around that word in an unreasonable amount of attractiveness. Then I thought of a particular pair of pink cat eyes glinting at me. So I shuffled forward, opting instead of asking questions to pull an ax out of a small portal. "I always forget your weapons are double the size of Cap'n Yami." He muttered off to the side, watching as I walked up to the top of the tree and measured up the ax to swing. As I swung down on the trunk, cutting it just as it began to branch out, I heard a low whistle, and secondly, his footsteps walking along the tree trunk back to me.

"Clean shot, doll." He grinned down at me, then looked back at the severed trunks. "We'll take the long one for the rest of the ride, whaddya say?" He asked, reaching down to pull me up. What the hell is going on? As I gripped his hand, I was almost in a trance, confused and running through millions of thoughts. Setting my body on auto-pilot as I tried to figure out why the hell he was so lovely. Which, in the end, was a bad idea, or maybe a good one.

My foot slipped, and just when I thought I was going to eat shit, a specific pair of hands gripped me, pulling me up fast. We fell back, landing against the wood hard; well, Zora did at least.

"Fuck." He groaned, rubbing his head before looking up at me, his mischievous eyes and smile gone, there laid concern. "Are you okay?" He moved me off of him gently, surprisingly not making any inappropriate comments on our position.

"You saved me," I spoke, still flabbergasted with what happened and the events leading up to it.

"Yeah, it didn't look like it was gonna be a soft fall, sweetheart." He stood up, convinced that I was all right, and gave me a hand again, this time watching me intensely as if I would misstep again. After I was up, he walked away, going to the head of the tree to fill it with mana. Slowly, the trunk began to rise, higher and higher, until we were above the surrounding trees. Green leaves blocking the view of the forest floor we once stood on, and a soft sunset began in front of us. The trunk began to move forward, slowly speeding up before staying steady. The wind whipped my hair around, along with a few of my things, making me hold on to them tightly after tying up what I could of my hair. I walked up to Zora again, coming to sit beside him. The trunk was thick enough for us to sit side by side, but it was a tight fit nonetheless. So as I settled beside him, he moved slightly for me, but our legs stayed glued to each other.

"If you could just do this the entire time, why didn't you just leave me back there?" I laughed it off, so used to him being a pain in the ass, and it is not like it would not be the first time he screwed me over in some way. Our relationship was not one of the niceties or cordial words. So often, you would find us fighting or screaming to see the other because of something they did, which eventually leads to a fight. Zora did not look at me for a bit, but when he did, I wished he had never turned his head. His eyes were sullen, sad, and overthinking, foggy with millions of thoughts that looked to be running through his head. The evident frown that towed down his face bothered me, so used to the shit-eating grin he pranked me or others, or when after putting someone in their place.

"I guess I can be really mean sometimes, huh?" I did not know his voice could be so soft. Honestly, I was surprised I heard him at all, but I did and could not stop thinking about it. I did not feel it necessary to talk after that, instead finally shutting my trap and moving on to watch the sunset. Colors blurred and blended across the sky, framing the mountains and trees rising to kiss the sky. It was quite the sight with bright pinks, oranges, and even some purple painted across the blue sky. When we reached the village, the sun was long gone, replaced by the moon, just as bright and beautiful with specks of stars across the sky. At some point, I remember getting bored and searching for the different zodiacs and patterns defined by the stars. As soon as I had found my sign, the tree trunk began to descend.

The trees we once flew over surrounded us and shut us off from the sky once again as we settled on the forest floor. The tiny little path we had been following earlier continued beside us, looking as it had when we left it hours ago. Up ahead, I could see the village glowing lively. Its name is written proudly on a wooden sign almost overcome at the bottom in ivy. However, before we got there, I opened my big mouth again.

"I don't blame you for being so mean; I mean, I would be mean too if my guild partner beat me at everything." That is not how it was supposed to come out, I mean, I was genuinely trying to be nice, but I did not filter the words that left my mouth before. Zora's head turned to me, eyes gaunt and eerie, his brilliant smile no longer on display.

"You wanna run that by me again, Doll?" The venom that surrounded the once cheery nickname made my stomach drop. I felt backed against a corner with miles surrounding me to run off. Quickly I tried to explain what I meant.

"Wait, Zora, that's not what I meant- not how I-"

"No, I think I got it doll, you just think you're that much better than me, huh? So what, you got to some quests before me, stolen relics under my nose, and joined my guild, passing me up in less than four months. I don't care, Honey, 'cause ain't nobody better than me- 'cause ain't no one like me! I don't care how much mana you have, how many spells you cast, how skilled you are, or how fucking perfect you are! None of that is gonna change no matter how gorgeous you are!" Zora's eyes widen, and he clenched his mouth shut, turning away with a growl and turning to walk off toward the village ahead of us.

"You think I'm perfect?" I called out, watching him stop and turn back to look at me. Zora's face was blank as he spoke.

"Are you telling me that out of ALL that, that is the only thing that stuck?" He scoffed, and his eyes narrowed slightly, sharp jaws sent in a deep frown. I walked up to him and stopped a step ahead of him. I held out my hand slowly, making sure I held eye contact with him.

"Truce?" Zora looked at my hand, astonished, which slowly melted away and revealed mixed relief and annoyance. Then, finally, he moved to grip my hand and shake it firmly.

"Truce. Whoa-" I yanked Zora forward, pulling him close, catching his surprised blue eyes before closing my own and going in for a kiss. Fortunately, Zora fell into it almost too easily, slipping his arms around me tight and returning the kiss with a bottled fever. However, after a few seconds, he pushed back, letting me go.

"W-What was that for?" I stared at him, lips still buzzing slightly from the contact.

"I don't know; it felt like the right thing to do. I think you're perfect, handsome too."

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Chapter 11)

Chapter Summary: Bucky is ready for commitment.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: fluff. Bucky is so smitten.

A/N: It’s been 84 years, but I hope you have fun! Thank you, @lesqui, for reading it over and helping me out with English and everything. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.  

  Placing your hands on each side of your hips, you smirk at the popped-up screen in your office. Another project you just nailed. Ever since the promotion, your productivity has increased tenfold and you feel as motivated as ever, your creativity on a top level. Also, the last few weeks, after you decided you needed some time alone, you did set more focus on yourself and your own projects. Work being one of them.

It’s weird to say the least… you’ve been busier than ever and yet, it seems like you actually have much more time to yourself now. You’ve been reading books you’ve bought but never really got to read them, eating ice-cream at 3am as you watch The Return of the King for the millionth time, your drawers are finally organized and so is your precious DVD collection. You got to explore a great number of parks and spots you’ve never been before, even living in New York for so long. You’ve been going out a lot and catching up with friends and family. 

It was a good decision. You remember in your relationship with Eddie there were always obstacles for you to hang out with people outside the small inner circle of you as a couple. Sometimes the obstacles were subtle, and not always brought solely by Eddie, but also by you who let yourself get involved in that dynamic. You had no idea how much you missed people that were yours only, and not yours and Eddie’s.

It’s been great to be single. Really, really single for the first time in your adult life. No boyfriends or fiancées, no booty-calls or deals. Completely single… A title and state of mind you didn’t really get to enjoy in the first months of being broken up, being too heartbroken to even think of everything you could do with your life then.

Deciding to be alone for a while…It was a great and reasonable decision.

You have to admit something to yourself, though.

Sometimes you just wanna throw “great” and “reasonable” out of the window. Because you do miss him… A lot.

Finding out how he’s changed his mind and predisposition towards your relationship has messed quite a bit with your mind… and heart. You weren’t expecting that at all and now you don’t really know what to do with the chaos that’s bringing upon your feelings. And what’s making it even messier is the other guy who also changed his mind and predisposition towards your relationship… you weren’t expecting that either… however, that particular change of heart hasn’t been making your own heart jump each time you think of it…

Squeaky little yells and an animated chattering sound of female voices catch your attention to outside your office. Your previous smirk turns into a smile while you shake your head to yourself. That type of commotion only ensues when a certain someone drops by the Tech Department.  

With a wave of your hand, you shut down the screen you’ve been working on, before moving towards the sound. What you come to find a few stops outside your office, at the Department’s common area, is a little circle of your female coworkers around a Super Soldier. He’s always a hit among your coworkers, but today it seems like they’re even in a bigger frenzy, fussing around something that he seems to be holding in his arms. You attempt to catch an eye of it, but the bodies in front of you make it quite hard.

He spots you as you approach them and opens a huge grin at your sight.

You smile back at him just as widely and after you come closer and some of the girls make room, your eyes widen and a small little gasp slips out of you when you finally find out what the fuss is all about. They are all cooing and marveling at a beautiful cat on Bucky’s arms, white as snow on a mountain peak, standing there like royalty, staring back like they’re nothing but proud of being where they are.

“Hey,” Bucky greets, prompting your eyes to focus back on him.

“Hi, there,” you answer back while your gaze carries an amused question mark at him.

He lifts a hard drive with his free hand to your vision field, “We collected this last mission, it’s some alien stuff,” he offers you the drive, keeping his eyes on yours.

As you gaze at each other, you reach for the little device. His fingers brush against yours and that’s precisely when the chattering around both of you becomes nothing but a distant and vague noise that barely reaches your senses… until a loud clear of throat sound stands out.

“Alright, girls, let’s get back to our desks and let these two, ahm… work,” Camilla, your closest friend there, gives you a pointed look and a discrete curve curls the corner of her lips as she leads the group - which looks far from happy about it - away.  

When your gaze meets Bucky again, he’s got that shit-eating grin of his that tells you the little interaction between you and your friend didn’t quite skip from his attention.

You bite your lip and are about to say something when he beats you to it, “Sorry, I had to bring her with me.” He looks down at the cat on his arm and gives it a gentle shake, grinning down at her while she looks up at him before her incredibly blue eyes shut in what looks like sheer contentment, “This little girl right here started whining at the door when I was leaving… she just can’t leave my side anymore.” Bucky shrugs and ticks his tongue, before winking at you.

You chuckle, finding the surprising scene before you nothing less than adorable. The fact that you enjoy being in the presence of his charm again doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you say nothing about it, “It’s ok, of course. I love cats. What’s her name?”

“Y/N, this is Alpine. Alpine this is Y/N,” he introduces you two with pride lacing his voice.

“Oh, hello, Alp-” your attempt of petting the cat comes to an abrupt halt with you withdrawing your hand at the loud hiss the animal aims at you.

Your eyes snap at Bucky to see his jaw dropping and his eyes widening with a mix of shock and fluster, “Fucking Christ,” he gasps, before looking down at the cat who now licks its paws absentmindedly, “What the hell, missy? Apologize. Apologize now,” he scolds, gaining absolutely no reaction in response.

He scoffs, looking back at you with incredulous lifted eyebrows.

You laugh, mainly at his attempt of making Alpine apologize, “Don’t worry…” You wave him off, “How did that happen, though? I don’t remember you having a cat.” You narrow your eyes just when your head tilts.

He bites his lower lip before an almost cringing smile forms on his lips, “Oh well…”

 A FEW WEEKS BEFORE…

 “Weren’t the Skrulls, like, actually good guys?” Bucky frowns, shoving one of his post-missions Oreos in his mouth and crossing his ankles over the spaceship’s dash.

“Every bunch has its bad apple, I guess,” from the pilot’s seat Natasha shrugs, eyeing the apple in question from over her shoulder.

“You’ll regret this,” threatens the prisoner, who’s actually a Skrull slaver named Gragnon and has his hands and feet securely tied up, stuck on a sit at the back of the ship. Still, he tries to get up and advance towards the front, but a shield of red mist surges in front of him, making him fall back on the chair again with a growl.

Wanda, the third member of the party on that mission, smirks from her seat right behind Nat’s.

Nat rolls her eyes, “What a douche… Talos has been leading a search for him for years now, he’d be thankful we’re taking him to them. Feet off the dash, please.” 

Bucky quickly obeys, pulling down his legs to the floor as Wanda snickers.  

“In fact… we should thank the success of this mission to a certain someone, who came up with a device to break alien codes.” The cheeky smile on Wanda’s face as she started speaking only fades so she can shoot a glare back at the prisoner, who’s now revolved by a red mist dome.

“Damn right.” A dreamy little curl pulls Bucky’s lips as he swings on his seat and passes the bag of Oreos to Wanda.

“Jesus,” Nat scoffs, setting the ship on autopilot, before swirling her chair to see both Bucky and Wanda, “Could you ever imagine this could be possible? That this guy would someday be that smitten over someone?” she questions Wanda.

“Not in a million years. I don’t know Y/N that well, but I bow to her.” Wanda mimics the gesture before shoving a cookie in her mouth.

Bucky doesn’t even drop the dreaminess of his smile. He is smitten… completely… utterly… and fuck if that doesn’t feel damn good. He always thought that kind of feeling would be a pain in the ass, boring and painful. It is not. He feels like singing, dancing, hugging every human being and alien he comes across. Fuck, he would hug the Gragnon dude if it didn’t mean to get a kick in the ass from Natasha. It’s been ages that he doesn’t really get high on anything, but that feeling… he’s definitely hooked on it.  There’s not a doubt inside him anymore and he’s in love with being in love with you.

“So, spill it,” Nat crosses her legs, swinging on her chair “You really went to her place and poured your heart out to her? Right after her ex proposed to her?” She questions, “What did she say?”

“Well, first she thought I was kidding and laughed her ass off…” He shakes his head with the same dreamy little smile on his lips, “Then, when she realized I was not, she started crying and, of course, so did I.” He shrugs, ignoring when Nat and Wanda exchange looks, “She wasn’t expecting that from me at all, and, we can’t really blame her can we?” 

“Definitely not.”

“Nope.”

Bucky chuckles at the unison response from her friends before leaning over and snatching the bag of cookies from Wanda, before giving them the details of his talk with you, having their undivided attention.  “And she said she needs some time alone, being single, I mean, to sort her feelings out… Also, it seems like she doesn’t think I can’t deal with the kind of commitment that being in love requires,” he says with a mouthful.

“Oh, honey…” Nat tilts her head.

He notices the sympathy on hers and Wanda’s expressions and waves his hand to brush her worries off, “No, no. None of that. All in all, it went pretty well. As much as I wished it would be different, I think her decision is fair. At least she didn’t say yes to the jackass with the ring,” he huffs, “I wasn’t really expecting her to throw herself in my arms. At least, not just yet.” He smirks.

“What?” Natasha shoots a look at Wanda before turning to him, “You’re not stepping aside?”

Bucky snorts at the question, “Are you kidding me? The first broad I ever fall in love with and you think I’ll leave the path free for that short little clown who thinks ten years matter?” He lets out an exaggeratedly loud laugh, “I’ve lived more than one hundred of them. Ten years mean nothing to me, and soon enough she’ll realize it doesn’t have to mean much to her, either.” A small smile rises on his face, “Of course she can have the time for herself she wants, find out what’s like being single. She deserves that. And she can think and figure out all she needs… have her fun... It’s all good…” He nods, “But in the meanwhile? I’ll be around romancing the shit out of that woman,” he states, right before tossing another cookie in his mouth.

“Holy shit,” Wanda addresses Natasha, with both eyebrows high on her forehead.

“I know…” Nat answers with an equally dumbfounded look on her face, before turning to Bucky, “Listen,” she sighs and tilts her head, “I hate to be such a killjoy here, but… I get you’re in love, and I know this is new and exciting for you.” She’s smiling before her lips tighten, “Having said that… I think she might have a point about you not being ready for commitment Bucky, you never wanted that. I’m gonna be honest here, I’m the one who set what you two had up because I thought it wouldn’t lead to this…” She waves all around him, “Feelings, I mean… and I would hate myself if you two ended up hurt because of it.” She focuses an apprehensive gaze on him while Wanda also rests her attention on him, looking like she agrees with her friend.

Bucky takes a good look between the two of them before putting into words the answer that’s so clear on his head now, “I know it may sound weird and uncharacteristic of me. Trust me, I know that.” He nods at Natasha, taking a moment to silently communicate with her in the way that has been always so easy for the two of them, “You’re right, I’ve never wanted that. Settling down to just one person, commit to a long term relationship…But with her,” he sighs and the corner of his lips curl up without further notice, “I want her and I want all of that with her, the whole package. I’m ready. I’m not afraid. I think the reason I didn’t want all of that before is because I hadn’t met her yet. That’s it. Simple as that. I know it’s not going to be easy, but to hell with easy. I want her. And I want her hard.”

Wanda already has a huge grin on her face when a satisfied little smirk twists Nat’s lips, “That’s what Amanda said.”

Bucky’s eyes widen before he squints at her, “What’ve you been up to?”

Nat puts on a nonchalant face and reaches forward to grab a cookie from the package. She takes a bite and shrugs, “Poor girl… needed some comfort after being let down by your buddy down there.”

Bucky lets out an outraged scoff and throws a cookie on her way, from which she dodges easily as she laughs, “I bet you were of great help in consoling her… Jesus… Amanda and you? The world isn’t ready.” He shakes his head.

Natasha sports a smug smile on her face when she nods her agreement, “You’re not wrong.”

“Alright, as much as I want to hear all about this Amanda girl, we’re getting close to the Skrull base now and we need you to land us, Nat,” Wanda nods towards the dash.

“Copy that,” Natasha makes a military salute at her, before shifting her seat and taking control of the ship again.

“And as for you,” Wanda turns to Bucky, “I don’t need to read what’s on your mind to know you’re telling us the truth. You’re ready for commitment,” she offers him a soft smile, which he reciprocates, “And if you really wanna show her that, I may have an idea.” Her smile turns into a devious little smirk and that’s enough to pique Bucky’s interest.

~~~

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Bucky asks, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks alongside Wanda through the busy sidewalks of Manhattan, “I mean… I know I said yes, but it is one hell of a commitment, what if it’s not for me?”

“Don’t worry, Bucky,” she smiles, “We’re just gonna take a look around, feel the vibe, and then see what happens. You don’t have to decide anything just yet,” she assures, wrapping an arm around his elbow as he looks down at her, “I just think it’s a good idea for you to get to know a bit more of this sudden inclination to commit…to experiment, I guess,” Wanda shrugs, “Besides, a dear friend of mine runs the shelter and the girl knows her stuff. If she feels like you’re not ready, she won’t allow you to get out of there with one of her babies.”

Bucky lets out a laugh. Feeling a little lighter about the subject, he places his hand over the one Wanda has wrapped around his arm, “Alright… I’m not opposed to the idea of having a dog, I guess. I always loved Labradors…” he frowns, “I would have to switch apartments, though…”

“Look at you.” Wanda nudges her shoulder on him, “Already making plans for your child…”

“Child…” Bucky can’t help but snort. He had agreed to Wanda’s idea of going to an animal shelter because he thought it would be a good way to show you he’s ready for commitment and, like he said, he’s always been fond of dogs and he’s sure if he ends up taking one home he’ll treat them well. But he also never understood how some people could be so attached to an animal to the point of considering them a child, or family…“I don’t know… I’m definitely not taking a pet home today. I agree with you, I shouldn’t decide anything just yet.”

As they walk past a small alleyway, Wanda halts, forcing him to stop with her.

“What?” Bucky frowns down at her.

“Shhh,” she brings a finger to her lips, staring towards the alleyway, “Listen.”

That’s when Bucky’s enhanced hearing catches the thin and shaky little sound coming through the trash cans.

“Come on,” Wanda pulls him to the alley and towards the cans.

What they find behind one of the containers, among all the filth around is a ball of white fur. Curled up and shaking just like the meows they heard seconds ago. A cat, a young adult white cat looks up and a pair of baby blue eyes meets Bucky’s and he just can’t look away from the plea on them and it’s just when something clicks inside his chest.

“Oh, no, look,” Wanda points at the tail, that has an evident injury on it, but when she leans down to examine it further, the animal flinches and rushes towards Bucky’s legs, letting out another trembling and weak meow. Bucky freezes as it starts climbing up his calves. 

Given the poor coordination on their back little legs – probably from the damage on the tail- it can go much higher,  but keeps trying. After the initial surprise, Bucky can’t help but to smile at the little fighter, who seems to reach out at him for protection. Next thing he knows, he’s leaning down and picks it up with all the caution he can muster.

“Hello, little lady… what happened there, huh?” He coos, nodding towards the small injury, which looks like a bite, having the cat meowing while bumping and rubbing the head against his chest.

“Is it a female?” Wanda tilts her head, an amused and questioning expression on her face.

Bucky smirks, not taking his eyes away from the animal, who is now quiet and seems much calmer, but digging her little claws on Bucky’s shirt, “I know a beautiful lady when I see one. Don’t I, gorgeous?”

A purring sound comes out of the now contented animal, the small injury on her tail apparently not being a problem anymore while she climbs higher and practically hugs Bucky with her little paws, whose fur is smudged by dirt, making his heart take a flip in his chest. Damn his heart nowadays…

“Aww, Bucky…” Wanda smiles, placing her hand over her heart, “What are we going to do? Should we take her to the shelter?” Wanda offers, with a bit of tentativeness on her voice.

Bucky’s eyes widen largely, before they snap to her friend. A protective tightness laces his hold on Alpine, who lets out another weak meow. Shit… Alpine? When the hell did he even come up with a name? Fuck if he knows, all he knows he’s done for and can’t possibly think of parting from that white furry little thing, who seems to have gone through a lot in her life already and probably has never met with human kindness before.

He doesn’t need to say anything as understanding falls upon Wanda’s face. He would even guess there’s a bit of pride adorning the smile on her lips now, “Alright, alright… we do need to take Alpine to the vet, though, Mr. I’m not gonna take a pet home today.” She winks.

~~~

PRESENT DAY…

“Oh well…” Bucky scratches the back of his neck while you keep your beautiful interested eyes on him, “I found this beauty on the street… she had an injured tail, poor thing… probably bitten by a dog. But she’s fine now, aren’t you, sweetie?” He coos, putting on the new tone of voice that belongs to Alpine now and loving the sound of your chuckle, “You know… I’m fully committed to taking care of her. I’m a cat dad now.” He says, putting some effort to highlight the word “committed”.

“I can see that…” you comment, nodding with a glimmer of fondness in your gaze at where Alpine is cuddled against him with eyes closed, completely relaxed.

Bucky looks down and smiles. That one is too cute for her own good, but he’s definitely having a talk with her later, for hissing at you like that, like he hadn’t given her a lecture about good behavior and how incredible you were before they left home.  

“So, it’s been a while, huh? How’re you doing?” He asks softly, boring his eyes on you and holding back every ounce of him to not pull you to his arms and shower you with all the intense love he’s gathering in his chest at your sight in front of him. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t have spent those long weeks apart from you, but he met with missions and an Alpine in the way. Also, as much as he’s resolved to show you he’s the one for you, he understands you needed time for yourself. But, hell, he missed you so much.

“Oh, I’m good, I’m good… pretty good,” you ramble, brushing a finger behind your ear, that thing you do when you become a bit self-conscious, which happens often when he places his gaze so intently on you.

He can’t help but smile, his chest impossibly swelled with his feelings for you, because that woman who becomes all flustered with his attention is the same woman who whined to suck his dick while shitfaced after a party. Damn, he’s so in love with you.

“That’s great...Are you free tonight?” He asks, smoothly, “Wanda and Sam will make hamburgers, they’re one hell of a team in the kitchen, you’ll be welcome to come if you want to.”

“Oh… I…” You falter.

“I’m not trying anything, I promise,” He’s quick to add with a chuckle and raises his free hand up, noticing the trepidation in your voice. “Everyone’s gonna be there. We’re just gonna eat and hangout.” He shrugs.

“Oh… no, it’s not that, it’s just…” You tighten your lips “I’ve got plans.” Something Bucky guesses to be disappointment or something like that sweeps into your voice. As for him, he holds his breath, bracing himself for the news that you’re going out with that douche of an ex, “I’m gonna meet some friends from college tonight. I got a reservation for us for dinner and then we’re gonna go dance…”

Bucky lets out a breath and the smile that grows in his face is wide when he says, “Oh, alright. That sounds like fun.” Really, really fun, especially if that jackass isn’t involved. He’s not disappointed. Far from it.  

You smile back at him, matching his mood. It doesn’t slip from his attention that you seem a bit surprised by his reaction at you declining an invitation from him in favor to hang out with your friends, but he says nothing of it.

“Yeah… I’ve been getting reacquainted with them lately,” you say, excitement plastered on the little curve of your lips and the glint in your eyes, “It’s been fun. I’d love to get to know Wanda and Sam’s talent in the kitchen, though….Maybe some other time?” You offer.

“Sounds perfect, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment brings the effect he was aiming for when you promptly does that thing with your finger on your ear again, but it was also noticed by the other girl in the room and currently in his arm, who seems to wake up from her comfort slumber against his chest to hiss at you again.

You look at each other in widened eyes.

“What the hell,” Bucky scolds down at the cat, glancing at you briefly, catching your now amused expression, before addressing Alpine again in a whispery voice, “We’re gonna have a talk back home, young lady.”

~~~

“What a number you put out there, huh?” His voice is gentle despite the reprimanding intention in his words while Bucky crouches and fills her little plate with the special food the vet recommended.

With her crystal-clear eyes glued on the plate, Alpine doesn’t really acknowledge his half attempt of admonishing her before digging in.

Bucky chuckles, “She’s cute, isn’t she? But so are you,” He scratches the back of her ear and she stops eating for a moment to brush her head against his hand, “You don’t have to be jealous, doll. You’re so cute, you’re my girl, too, you know?” he coos, still petting her, “But you gotta help me out there buddy. Ok? She’s really special and I know you’ll love her, too.”

Alpine lets out a weak meow before getting back to her plate and Bucky swears to God he sometimes wonders if the cat is some sort of shapeshifter in disguise, understanding every little thing he says.  

Letting her out to eat, he stands up, “Hey, Friday,” he calls.

“Yes, Bucky?”

“Could you search for a table reservation in the name of Y/N Y/L/N tonight? I need the address of the place.”

A small silence ensues before the A.I speaks again, “Isn’t it a bit creepy?”

He sighs, placing his hands on his hips, “Friday… babe…” He smiles at the giggles that resound in his kitchen, before bringing a hand to his heart, “I’m in love, ok? I’m not gonna ruin her night…If anything, I’m just going to make her night out with her friends more… interesting.”

“Alright, you know I can’t say no to you,” the A.I concedes, “You can find the address in your phone’s map. Good luck, handsome.”

“Thanks, babe,” Bucky grins, before turning to Alpine, who’s now about done with her food, sprawled on the floor busy with cleaning out her paws, “And you?” He calls, catching her attention before he points at her, “You’ll have burgers with your aunt Wanda. I have plans for tonight.”  

~~~

To be continued...

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Go the Distance

Prompt: Hello, I absolutely adore your work 🥺😍🥺 your Sanders Sides angst is just so goooood!!! If you're up to it, I'd love to request a fic <3 Virgil has noticed [side(s?) of your choice; they're all good choices, I can't decide ;-;] has been distant and avoiding him and he just can't figure out what he did wrong but it's actually because [side] loves him and are trying to take some time to 'get rid of/push down their feelings' The angster the better but don't push yourself ^ Feel free to add or change whatever Have a great day and no worries if you don't do this 💜💜💜~@im-an-anxious-wreck 💜🖤

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re the best

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, some lite™ angst

Pairings: prinxiety, background platonic dlampr because found family dynamics motherfuckers

Word Count:  4191

Virgil and Roman's relationship hasn't always been, well, great. But it's been getting better!

Or, at least, it was.

Listen, Virgil knows he and Roman haven’t exactly had the most…painless history. Virgil’s introduction to the series was Thomas telling Roman his dream was to get rid of him and, well, Roman was first and foremost loyal to Thomas. Then the whole…insult thing, ducking out, and the absolute mess of the callback wedding debacle, it’s not exactly been smooth sailing.

 But—okay, and maybe they’d been a little harsher about things than absolutely necessary, and maybe Roman got hit with the consequences of their fights more than Virgil, and maybe Virgil hadn’t exactly been…overwhelmingly accepting of all of Princey’s little ticks.

 But they’d still been talking!

 After the wedding, no one was on good terms with anyone save Patton and Janus—and wasn’t that the shock of a lifetime—and Remus and Virgil. Because they made the smart choice and decided ‘nope, fuck that, I’m out.’

 It was a good choice. You have any idea how high their scores are in GTFO now? The first rundown’s a fucking cakewalk.

 Anyway.

 They’d been talking! Virgil still doesn’t know exactly what happened right after—he saw the video, of course he saw the video, but Roman sunk right to his room and there’s a good twelve hours between that and the next time Virgil saw him—but Roman had come out and approached him!

 Probably because he was still hurt by the end of the video—which oof, Virgil does not blame him for, that was harsh—and his only options were Logan, Virgil, and Remus and Logan, um, didn’t want to see anyone for a while and Remus is Remus.

 Side note: those two have been getting on better. Something about their twin Creativity thing meant Remus knew that Roman was hurting bad before even Thomas did.

 But Roman did seek him out, asking him quietly if he had a moment, just a moment, to sit together. Virgil had shrugged and passed it off as nothing only for Princey to literally sit on the floor and not make a fucking noise. He’d frowned and poked his shoulder, asking if he was alright.

 “Perfectly fine, Dark and Stormy,” Roman had said lightly, “and I’ll leave you in a moment.”

 “But you’re…” Virgil had waved to his silent form. “…not acting like you normally do.”

 Roman had laughed. “And here I thought I’d never hear you say you missed me being loud.”

 “Now let’s not jump to conclusions.”

 Sure enough, a few more seconds had passed and Roman had gotten up, quietly bid Virgil good day, thanked him, and left.

 You bet your ass Virgil sunk straight into Patton’s room to ask hey what the fuck did you do to Roman.

 Patton had sighed and said that they’re not sure what to do now—‘they’ being Janus and Patton. Virgil, still recovering from the whiplash of those two being close had shaken his head and told them to get it the fuck together.

 If he sunk into Remus’s room to ask how to take care of Roman, that’s his business. It’s also his business if he tackled Princey in a hug two minutes later.

 So. Talking.

 Roman, for all he talks, doesn’t really say much. The few things he does say are easily passed off as jokes, off-handed comments that no one really pays much attention to.

 Not that anyone pays nearly enough attention to Roman, come on, guys, he makes it easy.

 But Roman talked to Virgil. He’d come in and sit and Virgil would sit next to him, trying to make sure his arm didn’t burst into flames from where it was pressed against Princey—the dude’s a fucking space heater, okay?—just to listen. Some of the time it was Disney rants—okay, most of the time it was Disney rants—but some of the time…

 “Virgil?”

 “Yeah?”

 Roman looked down at his costume. Today was repair day, unofficially called when Virgil’s hoodie ripped during the night and Roman’s sword cut through his sleeve. Virgil looked up from his own mass of fabric, needle stuck in carefully so he wouldn’t prick himself. He frowned at the look on Roman’s face.

 “What’s up, Princey?”

 “Do you think my logo looks bad?”

 Virgil blinked in shock. Roman didn’t look up and see the surprise on his face, instead running his thumb slowly over the patch on the costume.

 “What the fuck are you talking about, Princey?”

 “It’s so complicated,” Roman said, still looking down, “Logan and Patton have really simple ones. You have a pretty simple one.”

 “Janus doesn’t. Remus doesn’t.”

 “Yeah, but they’re…”

 Virgil frowned deeper, putting his hoodie on the ground and shifting closer to Roman. The prince didn’t even look up, still clutching his logo in his hands.

 “They’re what, Roman?”

 Roman swallowed. “…allowed.”

 A growl sounded from Virgil’s throat before he knew what was happening.

 “And you’re not?”

 “Hmm?”

 “And you’re not allowed, Roman?” Virgil gripped his shoulder. “Look at me, Princey.”

 Roman looked up. Virgil swallowed another growl at the despondent look on the prince’s face. Instead, he gripped Roman’s shoulder tighter.

 “No one,” he said firmly, “is allowed to tell you your logo is bad. You hear me?”

 Roman blinked.

 “I mean it, Roman,” he said, softening his voice a little, “it’s you. It’s yours, no one’s allowed to tell you it’s wrong.”

 “So that’s…okay?”

 “Yeah, Princey, it’s okay.”

 “Oh.” Roman looked back down at his costume. “Okay. Thank you, Virgil.”

 “Anytime.”

 Virgil would come to be astounded at how much he means that.

 Because, really, now that Roman’s talking? Virgil’s fucking shocked that they didn’t realize how much Roman actually has to offer.

 First off, Princey’s smart as hell. Sure, L’s the resident braincell but you can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time.

 If Logan tries to tell you he’s not a dumbass sometimes he is wrong.

 Roman can puzzle solve with the best of them. Do you have any idea how much brainpower it takes to write a story? A script? Understand how all those moving parts fit together and make sense as a whole? Virgil sure as hell didn’t. He spent one afternoon trying to help Roman only for it to end up as Roman explaining what he was doing and Virgil frantically trying to keep up. Don’t even get him started on how impressive the Imagination stuff is.

 “It’s my job, Fall Out Brood,” Roman laughs every single time Virgil expresses how fucking cool this is, “have to be good at something.”

 And Roman is. He’s good.

 Second: Patton may be the heart, Logan may be the brains, but no one is as good at reassuring him as Roman. Probably has something to do with the Creativity gig. Roman had asked, politely, if Virgil would be comfortable telling him what to do when he gets really anxious, whether to leave him alone, get him somewhere safe, get him things, what have you. Virgil had told him, bemused, only to be shuttled into somewhere that screamed safewarmcomfortableeverythingisokay the next time he had a panic attack. Roman, with the lack of shame truly becoming of a theatre kid, had no problems cheering him up by loudly declaring he would fight whatever shadowy figures plagued his little nightmare, swatting at the air with his sword until Virgil’s sobs had turned into giggles. He never made Virgil talk about anything if he didn’t want to, didn’t try to sit and work through things if they weren’t ready, and never touched him unless he’d gotten the okay. The first time Virgil told him he’d be fine with receiving hugs in the aftermath was the warmest he’d felt in years.

 Princey gives really good hugs.

 Third: Roman’s fucking funny.

 Remember the whole ‘smart as hell’ thing? Know how Logan’s funny as fuck too when he lets himself be?

 Virgil’s lost count of how many times he’s had to gasp out for Roman to shut the fuck up because his sides hurt too much from laughing. He ends up sprawled across the fucking floor or the couch or Princey’s bed, dying very happily but painfully because Roman won’t stop making him laugh.

 Most of the time it’s due to something they’re watching and Roman’ll notice some detail that he picks apart until they’re both howling or Virgil will make one sarcastic comment that turns into a full fucking bit for like…ten minutes. Roman will just keep riffing off of the smallest thing until he’s laughing too hard to keep going—not very likely—or Virgil will flail out desperately and smack him—much more likely.

 Princey said he makes fun of the things he loves.

 …maybe that’s why he doesn’t make fun of Virgil anymore.

 Virgil curls tighter around the pillow, clutching it to his chest. As he rubs his cheek against it, he grimaces. It’s too rough. It’s not warm enough. It doesn’t smell right.

 They’d been talking. It had been good.

 But that was before.

 Before Roman had cautiously approached Logan with an apology, the offering of a new planner for him, the promise to listen to him, hear him out, give him space to speak. Logan had accepted.

 Before Roman had opened the border between his and Remus’s side of the Imagination, sending a little puppy scuttling over to his brother’s castle with a note, a dagger, and a vial of acid. It returned as a kitten with a beautifully poisonous rose.

 Before Roman had finally, finally, after days of trying, opened the door when Patton knocked, letting him come inside so they could talk, about everything that happened since…well, ever. They hadn’t stopped hugging long enough to walk down the stairs.

 Before Roman had let Janus, Janus, take care of him.

 And now…

 Now Roman didn’t want to be in the same room as him.

 It feels as if they’re walking on eggshells around each other again, Virgil appearing in a room only for Roman to completely disappear, getting up and leaving a conversation entirely just to avoid him, Virgil knocking on Roman’s door only for Roman to shout that he’s busy, not to come inside, Virgil, trying, trying to figure out where Roman’s gone, what’s happened, only to receive the cold shoulder.

 A problem none of the other Sides seemed to be having.

 He clutches the pillow to his chest.

 Did he—did he do something wrong?

 Does Roman—does Roman not like him anymore?

 Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed so hard about talking to the others. Roman needed space, needed time, he didn’t need someone else breathing down his neck. He should’ve let Roman set the pace, listened more, been kinder to him when he needed reassurance.

 Maybe he shouldn’t have made Roman think it was his fault that the others were taking so long, or suggested that if he wanted things to get better he should try talking first. Roman had been taught by everyone else that things were his fault already, Virgil didn’t need to jump on that train too.

 Maybe he should’ve been kinder to Roman, less focused on making the others understand that they hurt Roman. Everyone in the Mindscape knew that Roman was hurt, Virgil should’ve helped fix that, taken care of Roman, not pushed the blame onto everyone else.

 Maybe Roman didn’t like what he had to say about Disney films. They were Roman’s comfort watches, the last thing he needed was for someone to cruelly rip away his enjoyment of one of the few things he could enjoy.

 Maybe Roman didn’t like Virgil’s way of taking care of him. Virgil never pushed, never did Roman the courtesy of asking, like Roman did with him, just assumed he knew best how to comfort someone and left it there. Roman might’ve needed more hugs, more time, less distraction, just something other than what Virgil gave him.

 Maybe Roman didn’t like how much Virgil ended up hoarding him to himself. Not letting him go to the others for comfort, just to work things out. Maybe he thought Virgil was just keeping him upset so he could hang out with him more.

 Or maybe…

 Virgil muffles his sob in the pillow.

 Maybe Roman needed or wanted him anyway.

 Maybe Roman was just waiting until he could get the comfort he actually wanted. Maybe he waited until the others were easier to talk to so he could go back to what he really needed. Maybe Virgil was just a placeholder until Roman could get hugs from Patton and Remus, talk with Logan and Janus, not him. Never him.

 Maybe that’s…okay.

 It’s not, it won’t be fucking okay for a long time, but one day, it will be okay.

 Virgil curses and throttles the pillow in his arms, wishing for it to be real, to be warm, to be a chest of white and gold and a splash of red, for it to wraps its arms around him and say it’s okay, shadow-ling, I’m here, I won’t leave you, shh.

 But it’s just a pillow.

 Has his room always been this cold?

 Have Disney movies always looked this flat?

 Has music always sounded this gray?

 Has Virgil always been this alone?

 He can hear them in the living room below him. He can hear Roman and Logan throwing quips back and forth, can hear Remus tackling his brother into the wall, and Roman protesting. He can hear Janus scolding Remus and checking to make sure Roman’s not injured, can hear Roman wave him off gently and go right back to verbally sparring with Logan. He can hear Patton laughing too hard, falling off the couch and begging the two of them to let up, let him breathe, can hear Roman coo and call him sweet, adorable, in that soft voice he only uses when he’s talking to someone he cares about.

 Can’t hear any of them worrying about where he is.

 Maybe it’s better this way.

 He got greedy, took too much of what was never his to take, what wasn’t given to him freely. He latched onto the first thing he thought was for him and didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t. He may think he’s been included in the famILY but he knows he’s still an outsider.

 He may be Virgil now but deep down he’ll always be Anxiety.

 So here he will stay, in the cold of his room, in the dark of his face smushed into a pillow that will never be real. He will stay and he will be happy.

 But not today.

 He sniffles and smears his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie, not bothering to pull away from the pillow long enough to wipe tears properly. His limbs start to protest as he hugs it tighter, tighter, tighter, but it’s no use. He can feel his own arms through the pillow. There isn’t enough—there’s too much give in the pillow. It’s just a fucking pillow but it’s not enough.

 Another laugh from downstairs and Virgil growls, burying his head in the pillow until he can’t hear himself think.

 Can’t hear anything but his own muffled sobs ringing in his ears.

 Can’t hear anything other than the thought swirling around and around his head that he’ll never be enough, that he’ll never be wanted, that he’ll never be anything other than Anxiety.

 Can’t hear the soft knock at the door.

 “Virgil?”

 The voices in his head must be getting pretty powerful because he’s certain he can hear Roman calling for him. He buries deeper in the pillow.

 “Virgil? Virgil, can you hear me?”

 Yes, he thinks, yes, I can hear you, which means I’m not crying hard enough.

 “Can I come in, shadow-ling?”

 Yes, he thinks, come in and make me forget that you don’t need me anymore.

 He must really be losing it because he thinks he can hear the door open and close again with a soft click, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a soft coo.

 “Oh, shadow-ling,” the imaginary Roman murmurs, “come here, little Stormcloud.”

 Oh, his imagination is being cruel to him right now because the sensation of warm arms around his waist and shoulders fucking burns. He buries his face in the pillow until he can’t tell which way is up anymore, not sure how he’s tricked himself into imagining Roman’s cradling him but too unwilling to let the illusion go.

 “That’s right, Stormcloud, relax for me, I’ve got you, I’m right here, shh, shh, you’re alright,” the imaginary Roman keeps whispering in that cruelly soft voice, “you’re doing great, shadow-ling.”

 Virgil wants him to be real. So bad he aches from it. But he knows he’s not.

 What happens next breaks his fucking heart.

 The imaginary Roman kisses him.

 It’s chaste, a barely-there brush of his lips against his forehead but it tears a whine out of Virgil’s throat before he can stop it. The imaginary Roman hushes him gently, pressing another kiss to the part of his cheek not buried in the pillow and it taunts him with how real it feels. The slightly chapped lips, the warm rush of air as Roman breathes, the light brush of his nose as he pulls away.

 It’s too much.

 It’s too much and he wants it to be real so badly but he knows the instant he pulls away it will vanish and that might just break him.

 Then he realizes the imaginary Roman is talking to him.

 “Breathe, Stormcloud, you’ve got to breathe,” he coaxes, “I know it’s tempting to stay buried in a pillow all day, but you can’t breathe properly like that, sweetheart.”

  No, no, don’t call me sweetheart, I’ll break.

 “Shadow-ling, Stormcloud, my darling,” the imaginary Roman says instead, “come on…”

 Well, now he’s disappointing imaginary Roman too. Figures. He can’t do anything right.

 “Of course you can,” the imaginary Roman pleads, “just breathe for me, shadow-ling, I’m right here, I’ve got you, you can keep your eyes closed if you need to, just breathe.”

 Another whine. Another kiss pressed against his head. The whine grows louder.

 “Shh, shh, my darling,” imaginary Roman murmurs, “breathe, come on, just—trust me, okay? Can I ask that of you, Stormcloud?”

 And goddamnit, this is why Virgil can’t do anything.

 Virgil trusts him.

 So he prepares himself for heartbreak and lifts his head.

 “Thank you, shadow-ling,” imaginary Roman—wait, he’s still here?—murmurs, rubbing his back, “there you go, now just breathe—oh! Oh, come here, lean on me, I’ve got you.”

 Having listed to the side horribly, Virgil lands against a solidwarmsafereal chest and—and—

 “R-Roman?”

 “Yes, my darling,” not imaginary Roman says, still kissing Virgil’s forehead, “I’m here, I’m here.”

 White-hot rage burns Virgil’s tears.

 He lets out a yell and shoves, not caring that it throws them both horribly off-balance, threatening to send him tumbling to the floor. He hears Roman cry out, trying to keep ahold of him, but he scrabbles and gets his hands around the bedpost and pulls.

 “Virgil—Virgil stop, you’re going to hurt yourself—“

 “Why do you care?” The rage coats his tongue. “You fucking left, you—you—you fucking didn’t care about me anymore, you decided you didn’t want me anymore and you fucking left so don’t try and care now!”

 “Virgil—sweetheart, I—“

 “Don’t fucking call me that!” He keeps his eyes squeezed tight. “You didn’t give a fuck about me when you left, when you got your fucking family back, you think—you think you can just waltz back in like you didn’t abandon me?”

 “Virgil—“

 “Because you did, Roman!” Virgil blindly shoves at where the prince was before, knocking him into the wall. “You fucking left me as soon as you got the others back like I—like I never did anything for you and now you—now you can’t even look at me.”

 “I’m looking at you now.”

 Virgil laughs.

 He throws his head back and howls until his chest and throat ache.

 “You didn’t give a shit when the others started talking to you. You just fucking up and abandoned me like you never cared about me in the first place. You replaced me with them or—or abandoned me as your placeholder and I’m fucking hurt, Roman.”

 “I know.”

 “Then why did you do it?”

 Silence.

 Virgil’s heart stops.

 No.

 No, no, no, no—

 He fucked up.

 He fucked up so bad.

 Roman left.

 Roman’s not here anymore.

 Roman left again, he made Roman leave, he—he fucked up so bad, he shouldn’t have yelled, he’s fucked up, he hurt Roman, no, no, no, no—

 On instinct, his hands hook into claws.

 Only to be caught by warmsolidreal hands and brought to something soft.

 “Don’t,” comes Roman’s softsaferealhurt voice, murmuring in his ear as he holds him still, “don’t scratch, sweetheart.”

 “Don’t—“

 “I know, I know,” Roman says immediately, “you said not to call you that. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

 …what?

 “I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” comes the voice again, “that’s no excuse, I know, but please, Virgil, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to abandon you.”

 Virgil swallows. “What the fuck do you call it then?”

 “I didn’t want to push my luck.”

  What?

 “You were being so good to me, Virgil,” Roman murmurs, oblivious to the internal struggle Virgil’s currently facing, “so kind, so supportive, that I…I realized I wanted to ask more from you. Things I had no business asking. And the longer you kept on being you, the harder it was to resist the urge to push and risk shattering everything you’d let me build with you.”

 “What—“ Virgil swallows— “what the fuck did you want?”

 Roman stills in front of him. With his eyes still shut, he can’t tell what’s going on, but when Roman speaks next his voice is hoarse.

 “Before I ask,” comes the whisper, “I want you to know that you have every right to say no. You can push me away, shove me out of your room, stay angry at me for as long as you want. I’ve hurt you, badly, and I have no right to ask this of you. I want you to know that. That I’m okay with you asserting that right.”

 Fuck, Princey.

 “…what do you want?”

 A pause. Then a soft rush of air, right on his face.

 “May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

 Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

 “R-Roman?”

 “That’s it,” Roman murmurs and oh, his mouth is right next to Virgil’s, “that’s what I want, shadow-ling.”

 He shifts a little until Virgil can feel Roman’s warmth.

 “That and everything that goes with it.”

 “Why—why did you leave? I-if that’s what you wanted?”

 “Because that would mean to push,” Roman says immediately, “and the last thing I wanted was to push you away. I thought if I could…rein it in, control it, I could…I wouldn’t hurt you.”

 A soft chuckle.

 “Look how well that turned out.”

 “But the others—“

 “I needed Remus to tell me what was going on,” Roman says wryly, “Janus to point out that I was okay in wanting something, Patton to help me figure it out, and Logan to kick my ass into doing it.”

 “To…to ask me?”

 “Yes, Stormcloud,” comes the whisper, “to ask you.”

 “And if I say yes?”

 He can feel Roman’s lips turn up.

 “…then I’ll kiss you, Stormcloud.”

 “Are you really here?”

 The question bursts out of him before he can stop it, immediately biting his lip in reprimand for letting it.

 “Open your eyes, Virgil,” Roman says softly, “look at me.”

 He shakes his head, not wanting it to be imaginary. Not now, not after this. Roman squeezes his hands.

 “Look at me, Stormcloud,” he whispers, “look at me.”

  Fuck it.

 Roman smiles at him, real and warm and soft and here. He squeezes Virgil’s hands again and takes the smallest step closer.

 “I’m here,” he says, wrapping Virgil’s arms around his neck, “I’m right here, shadow-ling.”

 He’s here.

 This won’t fix everything. But it’s one hell of a start.

 “Ask me again.”

 “May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

 Virgil shakes his head. “Not like that. Ask me properly.”

 Confusion dances on Roman’s face before realization hits. His smile widens and he brings a hand to Virgil’s head. Virgil clutches Roman tight as he gets dipped into the prince’s arms. Roman leans forward until his mouth almost catches Virgil’s.

 “May I kiss you, sweetheart?”

  “Yes.”

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[nona-piccolo]

Obey Me you say ?? Oh HECK yeah, I’ve been thinking of a bunch of stuff ! Feel free to just respond to ones you enjoy, and I wish I had a preference of the brothers or others but that’s also really just up to you! The gender neutral pronouns are amazing, thank you !!! Now that that is out of the way, on to thoughts and questions!

How do you feel the brothers or others would react to a very blunt and honest MC? Like one that is nice as heck, but will not hesitate to tell you their actual thoughts on things- for example the constant bashing on Mammon or maybe helping Solomon out in the kitchen with friendly suggestions kinda vibe !

How do

Oh I love this one! A part of me thinks that the brothers truly need a blunt MC in their lives, especially with how they treat Mammon and such sometimes LOL Because there is no preference, I decided to only do the brothers for now. But I do feel bad, because my Asmodeus, Beel, and Belphie ones appear to be much shorter… Thank you for the request though, I really hope you enjoy the answer 💗

How the boys react to blunt MC

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Reader: gn!reader

Warnings: none :)

Lucifer

I think it’s well known that Lucifer is not the softest guy when it comes to words.

Not only does he say whatever is on his mind, no matter how harsh it may be, but he also doesn’t care at all whose feelings he hurts in doing so. And yet there has never been anyone else to try and voice their opinions fullheartedly towards him.

So when he first begins spending time with you, truly, he was lowkey shocked at how blunt and honest you were.

Especially when it was towards him.

“Lucifer, did you just hang Mammon from the banister… again??” you ask, barging into his office without knocking. He was quite used to this however, and the demon had long since given up trying to scold you for it; it was no use, you would just keep doing it.

It’s not like he minded though. In fact, your presence made his head feel light after the many hours of paperwork he was going at.

“Yes, I did actually. Why do you ask?” he replied, glancing up to see you situated in front of his desk. You had your hands on your hips, obviously looking displeased. For a second, he thought your irritation was directed towards him.

“Why do I ask?” you replied back, no hesitation in your voice. “This is the third time this week. Mammon clearly hasn’t learned to fix his behavior after the first few times, and it’s obvious that hurting him won’t solve a thing!”

Oh… your irritation was directed towards him

Lucifer blinked up at you, his red eyes trying to read your face. No one ever had a problem with him punishing Mammon in the creative ways he could find; in fact, his younger brothers appeared to love watching Mammon suffer.

Apparently… you had not.

“Y/N, I-” Lucifer sighed, hell bent on just straight up telling you that Mammon will never learn.

“No. Stop doing it. He doesn’t deserve that.” You cut him off, the frustration still showing on your face. And before the demon could reply, you had turned around to whisk yourself out of his office. 

The only thing left in the room was him and his thoughts--- and the sound of his pen slipping from his fingers to bounce onto the desk.

Ohhh boy, Lucifer had never had someone stand up to him like that. It wasn’t even like you were trying to be mean, or be the more ‘dominant’ one… you were just saying what was on your mind. And Lucifer wasn’t blind.. He knew how much his other brothers meant to you, so for you to care so much as to voice your opinion to the very avatar of pride himself--- maybe, just maybe, he could give Mammon a break from punishments.

Even though people like to portray Lucifer as someone who is super strict and would want to be around I guess more ‘submissive’ people who would obey him, I think he would certainly not like an MC who allows people to walk all over them. You are the perfect balance between kindness and honesty, making you a trustworthy companion.

And a good ol’ honest comment could never truly hurt Lucifer’s feelings. His skin was as thick as bone, so to finally be around someone who isn’t intimidated to speak their mind around him… it’s almost relieving

I guess you could even say he finds it attractive….

Mammon

Mammon had always enjoyed spending time with you

From the moment he met you, you had always given off a fun and compassionate aura, and so the demon was ecstatic to finally have a partner-in-crime!

Ehhhh… it wasn’t like that though

Although you found humor and joy in going along with his harmless schemes, there were some where you put your foot down without a grain of hesitation.

When you first voiced your opinion on how bad of an idea it was to try and snap a picture of Lucifer when he was sleeping, he instantly thought you were a debby downer with a goody-goody type of attitude. Mammon had groaned out in frustration as if he was a 3-year-old child.

“Oh come on! It’ll be fun! It’s not like Lucifer will even see ya coming,” he responded, pulling out his phone to text Satan and Asmodeus his plans.

You had stared at him after that for a solid minute, your arms crossed and your eyebrows furrowed as if you were thinking. It wouldn’t take a genius to recognize how bad of an idea that was.

“Mammon, you’ll probably be punished again. Respect Lucifer’s privacy please. Besides, I think it’ll be more fun if we watched a movie tonight! What do you say we rewatch the TSL series together?” you had brought up an alternate solution to keep him out of Lucifer’s wrath, hands folded together and eyes wide as you hoped he would agree and listen to you. Mammon was just confused though, looking at you as if you were crazy.

You’d rather watch that series all over again instead of trying to cause trouble for Lucifer??

Ugh… but look at your expecting face… he couldn’t just let you down.

Surprisingly, and begrudgingly though, he had agreed.

And guess who wasn’t thrown from the banister that night?? Mammon.

Your honesty doesn’t just stop there though.

As the family punching bag, Mammon was so used to taking the hits for his stupidity and then moving on. He never fought back. So when you decided to voice out how ridiculous it was that he was being called “stupid” and how ironic it was that Asmodeus was calling Mammon an “attention-seeker” or that Satan was referring to Mammon as an “asshole”, he was whole-heartedly surprised. 

Apparently so were his other brothers.

Everyone just sort of sat there in silence as you shot comments back at them, scolding them for treating Mammon like he was dirt. It wasn’t just one instance either; Every. Single. Time. You told them to knock it off.

And just like that, the harsh insults towards Mammon began to disappear, especially whenever you were around.

The avatar of greed never had anyone to stand up for him in the ways that you had. And he feels his heart swell up with warmth as you berate Lucifer of all people for hanging Mammon upside; the fall causing his sunglasses to slip and break, much to his disappointment.

Mammon made it a goal to always be near you when he voiced his opinion around others; because not only would you acknowledge what he said, but you also made sure the others wouldn’t shoot him down for simply being himself

It was like he could breathe when he was around you. Like every single thing he said wasn’t nitpicked apart and thrown away as a stupid thing. You were different. You told him what was wrong and gave him constructive criticism.

BUT-- that honestly doesn’t protect him from himself

No one is safe from your blunt persona, not even Mammon.

I think this is what he truly needs in his life though; because I believe honesty and bluntness comes from a place of love and comfort. You are blunt because you want Mammon to be the best that he can be, you are blunt because you want to see Mammon succeed, you are blunt because you care about him.

Every honest thing you say about him is to protect him.

So whenever Mammon sneaks into Leviathan’s room at night for a limited edition figurine, or slips down Diavolo’s corridors to try and snatch a vintage portrait that could make him some potential money… he always pauses to think of your reaction to his late night greedy urges. So that when he hesitantly puts down the portrait, he can sleep comfortably knowing that you’d be proud of him.

Leviathan

To be honest… I think it would make him very nervous when he observed that you were an honest person

Even though his brothers are equally as harsh to him-- for example, they don’t hesitate to call him a nerd, or a weeb and otaku-- he doesn’t seem to mind it anyways, since Leviathan has fully absorbed and accepted his otaku persona.

But this situation is a bit different… because even though Leviathan is used to his brothers being honest with him, it’s a whole different thing when Y/N does it.

Someone out of his family circle telling him that he’s a weirdo??

Yikes, he doesn’t think his heart could handle that.

So to cope he’ll at first just stay in his room… far away from you… so he could get to his usual activities.

He is already so used to being locked up in his room away from prying eyes and others’ opinions, so as soon as he takes notice of your blunt tendencies (especially when you had first voiced your thoughts to Lucifer), Leviathan shies away from being close to a normie like you. Besides, he doesn’t even need to leave, right? He has an emergency built stash of food for when he needs to eat, and he could just do school work on his own computer.

He has this whole imaginary field of comfort that he had built up for years and years; a room full of figures and merchandise-- his own personal utopia.

Leviathan doesn’t want you to judge him; he doesn’t want you to think that he’s weird or a loser. His poor introverted otaku heart couldn’t handle it

Clearly, he didn’t understand you at all...

That doesn’t stop you from hanging around him either. You insist he shouldn’t have to wait up all night alone for tickets on Zaramela’s new worldwide tour, and you had dragged Mammon along with you to give Leviathan some company.

He felt cornered, deciding to let you in to stay up late with him. And while Mammon had fallen asleep (much to Levi’s anxiety), he was left to try and entertain you to the best of his ability.

Leviathan hesitantly hopped onto his gaming console, turning on a classic favorite of his. It was simple, it was easy, and he was very familiar with it, especially considering he had played it and completed it over 25 times.

Perhaps his movements will be more shaky and unsure, however. When you sat down to watch him play his video games, he may mess up more often, to his dismay. Your distance to him was decent enough, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him begin to get absorbed into the game.

“You know, you’re very good at the game…” you mutter, looking down at his fingers flying across the controller. You wonder for a moment how Leviathan can even stare at the bright screen for so long without any permanent eye damage.

Apparently he took your comment as a sarcastic one, lightly scoffing. “Okay I get it… we can do something else… like uhh..” his eyes flitted down to a random CD he had discarded on his floor a while ago. “We could watch The Girl Whose Grandparents Travelled Back in Time to Tell Her She Was a Princess,” he casually brought up airily; already in the process of turning off his video game. He reached over to grab the CD, realizing too late that this was one of the animes he didn’t really like...

You were a bit confused at the offer though. “Um no thanks. It’s a total rip off of The Girl Whose Parents Time Travelled To the Past to Tell Her She Was a Princess.” Your response was automatic, looking at the CD as if you were bored.

Leviathan paused. “What?! Y-You noticed that too??” he questioned, tossing the CD back onto the ground where it originally was. “Finally someone who understands!! The heroine was almost a complete carbon copy, I can’t believe the studio got away with that!”

You nodded your head, a serious expression on your face. “What a let down. Besides, the original had a better soundtrack 100%.”

Leviathan almost jumped on you with excitement.

Apparently not even Leviathan knew how harsh of a critic he himself was. All that harsh judgement he does on animes and video games… Perhaps you being just as blunt would be new to him. You were somehow both one in the same.

All in all, Leviathan didn’t understand how much of a blessing having an honest person in his life could be. Especially as someone who doesn’t judge; your honesty never crossed the line into personal territory. 

Instead, you gave him an opportunity to gain feedback on animes that you two binge watch together

And for the first time in forever, Leviathan felt like he had someone to indulge in.

Satan

He really really enjoys this

Satan pegs me as the type of guy that would find humor in hearing your honest opinions--- and you notice that whenever you speak your mind towards Lucifer, you can briefly hear a quiet chuckle escaping Satan’s lips.

Of course, as mature as Satan is, it’s not that he actually finds what you say humorous; he just never thought he’d see the day where some mortal human would stand up to a group of demons as intimidating as they could be.

You remind him of himself in some ways… both of you unafraid to speak your minds and both of you able to stand up for what you truly believe in.

And because of this, he registers the fact that instead of going to Solomon or Asmodeus for opinions on his books or feedback for his many essays, he goes to you.

Especially when Satan needs proper and honest feedback from someone who wouldn’t sugarcoat it. And unlike Leviathan, Satan relishes in some proper assessments.

Satan feels more drawn to you than the rest of his brothers, coming up to you for some of his more diabolical actions--- like the many pranks he kept under his sleeve for Lucifer

“Do you think Lucifer will see this one coming?” he asked you casually, sliding you a piece of paper containing a scribbled down--- yet well thought-out and detailed scheme to cause trouble yet again.

You quirk up an eyebrow, glancing away from your phone and down towards the sheet of paper. With a small sigh, you decided to give in and at least entertain the idea. He just didn’t give up, huh?

“Hmmm… didn’t you try a plan like this similar to before?” you replied, eyes raking through the pencil marks.

“Have I?” he mumbled, leaning in to feign involvement. “Yes,” you answered, dropping the paper and acting like you didn’t need to see any more.

“And it didn’t work that time. I don’t think it’ll work this time either Satan. Sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry,” he grinned.

It’s not like it was just Satan who enjoyed your presence; you would grow increasingly more and more comfortable about voicing your opinions around him. There’s only one thing better than a straightforward honest person--- and that is someone who can actually appreciate the honesty

After you recognized that Satan truly does not get bothered by whatever is on the tip of your tongue, things only got better.

I can imagine late nights where you and Satan would stay up until your eyelids became like lead and you couldn’t continue without sleep. Those nights were filled with honesty and intelligence. He thought you had a beautiful mind. He wanted to hear every opinion that popped up in your head

Asmodeus

Hmmm… Asmodeus is a bit trickier. 

As an outward and bubbly extrovert, Asmodeus was bound to hear all types of opinions from all types of different people. And judging by his insane amount of confidence, he doesn’t let any of that negative energy affect him (He says it’s bad for his skin).

It’s not like you’d say anything mean to him to begin with, especially purposefully--- but I feel everyone takes criticism differently, and some take it to heart more than others

Considering you don’t fall for Asmodeus’s mind-controlling charm, your honest and blunt nature just adds the cherry to the cake on what kind of person you are. This just makes you more natural and pleasant to be around.

So instead, he makes his use of it, making sure to drag you along with every one of his shopping sprees around town.

You wouldn’t suck up to him, or brush off his hyper enthusiasm by simply saying ‘yes’ to everything--- much like his brothers do to him

“Y/N, Y/N, do you think this color will look good on me??” Asmodeus excitedly asks, holding up a beige scarf to his neck. Both of you couldn’t care less about the wandering eyes that followed trailed towards the loud demon of lust. “I think this color looks good on me, but definitely not with the outfit I’m wearing currently.”

You smile at his animated gestures, nodding your head in agreement. 

“I do think the color suits you, but didn’t you get a beige outfit a week ago? Maybe a cream color will look better,” you mention, shifting through the scarves on the rack.

Asmodeus pauses to pose in the mirror that was conveniently placed on the store wall. “You could be right~ I heard cream is more in style right now anyways. Thank you darling 💗.” 

Beelzebub

Beelzebub doesn’t even notice you’re more blunt and honest; like, he doesn’t isolate that as your special quality

Instead, he just thinks that that is how you were as a person.

Honestly, it’s quite cute.

Whenever he eats off of the plates of others, or realizes that he just vacuumed down the cookies that you were supposed to deliver to Luke, you don’t hesitate to voice your disapproval. 

“Beel, please don’t eat other people’s food. It’s not nice,” you reprimand gently, noticing that no other brother on the table was going to say anything to reprimand him.

He quietly gulps down the rest of the food that he had finished chewing in time. “Oh… sorry,” Beel mumbled, wiping the remaining crumbs of the cookies that he knew you worked on for Luke.

He didn’t even realize he reached over to take the food.. One moment his stomach grumbled hungrily, and then the next moment he smelled the cookies you had spent all morning baking.

Whenever he ate his brothers’ food, they would always sigh and complain to Lucifer about it---which in turn caused Lucifer to tell them to just grab some more.

He really really didn’t mean it…

You sighed quietly, grabbing a napkin off of the table to aid in ridding the crumbs all over his shirt. “It’s okay Beel. Try not to do it again, kay?” It looks like you needed to throw together another batch of cookies in order to get them delivered to Luke before it got too late.

You glanced behind you, watching as Beel followed you to the kitchen again. The redhead noticed your questioning glance, and he only grinned in reply.

“I’m going to help you make more. It’s the least I can do…” he said.

The gesture must have made you happy, because he could see you return the grin instantly.

Beelzebub also happens to be lowkey blunt in his own way, because while he may hold back in speaking a lot of the time, much of what he does say (besides things food-related) is actually quite honest. He isn’t afraid to tell people what he thinks about them, but on a much lower scale than you.

I think this mixture of two similar people is wonderful--- 

Remember how I said some people take honesty and criticism to heart more than others?? Well… Beel takes to heart what you say and attempts to fix anything he can within his power.

Belphegor

Ha ha ha… ahhh Belphegor. Okay correct me if I’m wrong, but he’d totally be the type to purposefully do things that would make you snap at him or cause you to be more blunt.

He always knew you were kind-- I mean, you were the one to help get him out of the miserable attic. You were also the one willing to deal with Mammon, so… ya know.

But his level of respect for you rose when the demon took note that you were no welcome mat. 

No one could step all over you, and for a human, that was damn impressive to him.

For example, the first time he had fallen asleep in a weird position in front of you was when you, Beel, and Belphie decided it would be fun to bake some muffins for everyone. He was assigned the role of mixing together the mix and well… he fell asleep.

While standing…

You quickly snapped him out of it, voicing your opinion on how it was not the time to be sleeping--- especially if these muffins were to be done before dinner

He liked getting your attention in that way though

Belphegor was another demon with thick skin, and yet another demon who also happens to be blunt and honest (probably one the most in the family)

“You look like shit,” he mumbled into his pillow, watching you trudge into the room tiredly. You had dark under eye circles, probably due to the lack of sleep you had within the past two days, and your hair was unkempt. The strands thrown about your head like a cyclone just hit you. Belphegor had heard that you were taking extra magic lessons with Satan and Solomon, and he only assumed this was a result.

You grunted, flopping down onto the bed right next to him.

“Well, you don’t look too good yourself. But I guess that’s what 10 hours of sleep will do to you,” you bit back, the words were a bit slurred and muffled due to your face plant on the bed.

He chuckled lightly, scooching over to toss his blanket over you.

Belphegor would ask about your little magic experience later on; the loads of opinions you probably had would make due for an interesting listen.

[jungc6ck]

Super (JJK x reader) Pt.1

🔥 Pairing: superhero/soulmate Jungkook x superhero/soulmate reader

💧Genre: superhero au, soulmate au, smut, angst

🔥 Rating: R (18+)

💧Summary: Jungkook was born as one of the lucky few to possess superpowers, so were you. He’s looked up to you ever since you’ve been fighting crime, so it makes perfect sense the universe would choose for you to be soulmates... unfortunately for him, you’re not even close to what everyone thinks you are. Behind that golden mask you wear is a less than golden person. Little does our clumsy and awkward hero know what you, this world, and the universe are about to put him through.

🔥Word count: 4k

💧 Warnings: cursing, violence, fighting, mention of sex and sexual acts and tiddies, future smut, future violence, future drinking problem, future mention of depression, future monsters (I’m just forewarning you that it’s going to get kind of dark)

“Hey! Pee-boy, wake up!”

Jungkook let out a little groan at the voice, letting it know he didn't appreciate the name-calling or being woken up.

“Jungkook” the voice now got growly and agitated.

Jungkook knew the voice, he just was too tired to respond.

“Get up!”

“How did you get in my room?” Jungkook muttered with his eyes still closed as he tried to roll over to escape Jimin’s nagging. His body rolled into unsupported nothingness and within a fraction of a second, his heart was racing right before his body made a collision with the cold wood floor. He knew he might as well wake up now.

Jimin cackled maniacally at the boy groaning in frustration and pain on the floor with his eyes now squinting open and looking up at his friend who sat in the chair at his desk beside the head of his bed.

“Your parents let me in.”

The only response the boy had was a sigh

“You know, because you’re twenty-three and still live with them… in their attic. To be honest it’s not even a cool lair.”

Jungkook finally sat up off of the floor and saw the neatly folded cloth Jimin had in his lap.

“Oh, this is for you. You should try it on.” He offered the fabric out to him.

Jungkook took it from him as he sat on the floor with his back against his bed and held it up the best he could to get a good look at it.

The spandex-looking material was a swirl of deep blue and silver reminding him of ocean waves at night.

“Thank you.” Jungkook gave his best friend a surprised but thankful smile before he went back to marveling at it.

“I can’t believe you made this, just for me.” He was astonished at his best friend’s talent.

“Well, you are my best friend… and a very special person. Oh! I almost forgot! The mask!”

Jimin reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a navy blue silicone rubbery object and tossed it to Jungkook. “It ties in the back with a thin string to match your hair but the inside of it is made of the gell stuff they use in push-up bras to keep them in place.”

Jimin sounded proud of himself but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh until something dawned on him.

“Oh shit, what time is it?” Jungkook asked Jimin as his body froze up and mouth dropped open.

“Almost eleven-thirty.” His friend had pulled out his phone to check before replying.

“Shit! Work!” Jungkook jumped up and threw his new suit and mask on his bed before running over to his closet across the room.

“I’ll see you later, good luck today,” Jimin announced.

Jungkook had already grabbed a jacket and jeans and headed over to his friend now by the door to give him a quick hug and thank you, but accidentally and absentmindedly added a quick kiss to the side of his head which made Jimin laugh. Jungkook was in too much of a hurry to dwell on his mistake and too silly to take it back, plus Jimin had already left the room before he could even speak again. He grabbed a backpack and threw his new suit into it along with a few other things before leaving.

“Hell,” Jungkook mumbled to himself with an exasperated sigh as his shitty car refused to start for the third time. “Come on baby, you can do it.” He tried again “do it for me” with that, the noise of the engine roared to life, however it still sounded as though its life could end at any moment. “What a good girl.” Jungkook realized as he drove off the way he had been speaking to his car. He blushed a little to himself and was glad no one overheard it. He knew sometimes he could be a little oblivious to those things with never having sex even once in his life. Once a girl did let him feel her up though at her house while under the guise of studying back when he was in school. He had no idea she didn’t really invite him over to study for a science test, he didn’t even know when she was flirting with him until she got frustrated and asked him to kiss her and take off his shirt. Jungkook had gotten a little bored with it though and nervous around her and never went back over to her house. That couldn’t have been his soulmate, but sometimes he wonders if it had been since she had been the only girl to ever like him that he knew of.

He was twenty-three, lived with his parents, never went to college, never found his soulmate like everyone else has, and made pizza for a living. It wasn’t all that bad at least he was trying and at least he had a job. He was simply making due with what he was given in life and he was doing his best and that was what mattered… well that wasn’t exactly true… until recently.

He was given so much more than any average person, he had always just been too scared to use it or even tell anyone but his family and best friend. His best friend. Jimin had known him since they were both six years old. He was the first one to know about Jungkook’s powers and help him figure out everything he could do. A lot of the time he helped drive Jungkook and make him do what he needed to do and in return, he liked to listen to Jimin and help him solve problems in his life, or hear about his day. Jungkook knew he was lucky to have him as a friend, always supportive, always creative as a fashion designer should be, Jungkook felt lucky he didn’t ditch him a long time ago. Jimin was accomplished, on top of having a good job, he had found his soulmate already, a rich modeling agent named Taehyung.

Jungkook had asked Jimin before what it was like to meet him and he replied something along the lines of “when you meet your soulmate, you just know. It hits you hard, you both know the universe has put you together. It’s not just love, it’s something so much more, something… addicting.” He had also said he had seen Taehyung before in magazines and that Taehyung had seen him on tv, but nothing hit until they met in person.

Jungkook had always wondered if he even had one if he was meant for anyone at all especially with him being so different. His parents were soulmates, so were his grandparents. Everyone had one but maybe not him. Perhaps the universe had given him powers but no one to love.

He didn’t want to think about it so he turned up the radio as he drove slightly over the speed limit into the city where traffic seemed pretty bad today.

“Fire girl, what do you think of her? Who do you think she is?” A radio talk show that he was previously ignoring made his ears perk up at her name. He had been enamored with her for years now. Everything she did, every person she saved, everyone she fought, Jungkook had known about.

“I think she’s pretty, that’s for sure. As for who she is, I guess no one would ever know in a city this big, maybe if I came across her I would know. I’d know that bright red hair anywhere.” The second man said.

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff. They wouldn’t know. Not only did she wear a mask but he knew that a person’s hair and eyes changed when they activated their powers. She most likely didn’t even have red hair or yellow eyes in her everyday life, just like his hair wasn’t blue and neither were his eyes. Jungkook was just plain Jungkook when he wasn’t using his powers. It was obvious to him that everyone didn’t know that.

“What if it’s a wig?” The first man asked the second.

“Who’s got time to put on one? Especially with that whole skin-tight outfit. Where do you think she gets dressed? How do you think she knows when and where the trouble is?”

“She could wear it under her normal clothes.”The first man decided and that struck Jungkook as a good idea. “As for how she knows about crime? Maybe she listens to a scanner on the same frequency as the police? Perhaps she even just watched the news. All I know is that our city is lucky to have her.”

“Ahh I’m not sure about that. I’ve heard people born with powers are pompous jerks who think they can get away with anything, a lot of people think that.”

Jungkook had heard that too growing up. There were people like him and fire girl all over the world, while there weren’t many, some always seemed to get into trouble. That’s what stopped Jungkook from trying to be a superhero until now. He was afraid of looking like a dick-bag, he was even afraid of becoming one. Although Jimin assured him he could never be, he was still scared of slipping up. While some people didn’t care for superheroes, some people loved them, especially children. He just didn’t want to disappoint anyone, he didn’t know if he was even good enough despite practicing in his backyard and taking taekwondo since he was a child. He wasn’t even comparable to fire girl.

As a child, he looked up to her, not just because she was pretty and cool, and could do so many things he couldn’t, not even because she had the exact opposite powers as he did. He looked up to her because she looked to be around his age, she made it all look so easy and she hadn’t been in any kind of scandal yet despite her five years as a public superhero. He thought maybe she was like him and that maybe she just wanted to do good in this world and not need the fame validation like some other heroes. Maybe she just wanted to help people like Jungkook did. He also thought that perhaps she might be grateful for some help.

This city was riddled with robberies, bad people, murderers, and just criminals in general, and even with knowing they would be stopped they all still tried for whatever reason. Jungkook also knew that the police in this town could be just as bad as the criminals and they were just as much egotistical jerks as some heroes were. Jungkook knew that just because you have power in any way didn’t mean you had to flaunt it and abuse it.

“She could be a terrible person, how would we know?”

Jungkook turned the radio off.

It was a hot summer day and working his butt off in a boiling kitchen with ovens going all day wasn’t what Jungook thought he would be doing when he was a child and imagined his future, although neither was using his superpowers and becoming a superhero. To be honest, he liked music, he liked to listen to it everywhere, at home, at work, even on his way to work and back. He had even gotten a guitar for his seventh birthday and spent years learning to play. He thought for sure he would be in some famous band by now and not just singing along to the radio while sweat-soaked his shirt in a pizza kitchen. His dreams weren’t what they were supposed to be, but he was fine with that, he was fine with thinking the universe would eventually just lead him to where he needed to be, and it was definitely about to.

There were ten minutes left of his shift, ten agonizing minutes where he was left alone to lock up the shop, finish cleaning up the place and turn the lights off. He was always left to close the shop alone, his boss trusted him to do it more so than the others, however, he still hadn’t made him a manager. The radio had been turned off and all that was left for background noise was the tv in the dining area that Jungkook let play on the news in hopes that he would see her on it as he swept the floor.

He didn’t unfortunately, but what he did see was live footage of a bank robbery that had turned into a stand-off with the police.

Jungkook froze and nearly dropped the broom in his hand as he watched the helicopter footage of the scene. The bank was close to him. He had his suit and mask in his backpack in the back, he could do this if he wanted to.

Adrenaline began to course through him at the thought. He bit his lip with his gaze on the tv as his options battled inside of him like violent crashing waves although he was calm on the outside. His eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. Eight minutes now until he could leave.

In an instant, he had made a decision. He took off running through the store, clocked out, and headed into the back where his backpack was.

He stripped down in the storeroom as his pulse hammered in his ears. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he knew he had to start sometime.

He felt odd being stripped down to his underwear at work while struggling to get his limbs in the tight, stretchy fabric with his hands shaking. He had gotten one foot in a leg hole but lost his balance and fell over onto the tile trying to get the other in. He decided that maybe getting dressed while laying on the floor was his best bet.

His hands still shook as he tied the back of his mask tightly around his head. He could feel the jelly-like side conforming to the curves of his upper face and wondered if this was how a boob felt in a push-up bra as he thought about what Jimin had said earlier.

“Okay.” he let out a shaky breath as he stood up from the floor “I’m not going to die today. I won’t die. Nope, not even once. I won’t die.” he chanted to himself hoping that implanting it in his brain would help him be safer while mustering courage. He let out a deep breath before he let his power wash over his body, knowing his hair and eyes just changed to blue.

“Let’s do this!” he said to himself with sureness and courage with clenched fists.

He locked up the shop, leaving his backpack with his clothes inside, and headed to his car just outside.

He had a fist full of keys, some for the store and some for his house and car. As he put his car key in the ignition and tried to start it, all of his courage died along with the engine.

“Balls!” he shouted as he smacked the steering wheel and tried again. The car simply wouldn’t start. “After I was so nice to you this morning?! Come on! I’m trying to be a superhero here!”

He tossed all the keys into the passenger seat and let the top of his head fall back into the headrest as he looked up at the roof of the car. He debated on giving up, but he decided against it. He could feel it, this was where the universe was leading him, today was his day.

The underwhelming but soon-to-be hero decided to briskly jog to the scene of the crime while people stared at him for the way he was dressed, cursing himself the entire way for being unable to fly.

Jungkook was met with a blocked-off street with police officers and cop cars scattered all over it. Jungkook hadn’t thought about how to get through the cops and into the bank. If he wasn’t going to get shot out here by the police for trying to get into a robbery, he would probably be killed by the robbers for simply just strolling in. The odds and his luck didn’t seem to be in his favor today.

“I’m a superhero, I should be able to just go on by them.” He told himself and decided to try it.

He walked past the roadblock but didn’t make it far.

“Hey, kid! Where do you think you’re going?!” Was shouted at him making him pick up the pace until he was at a full run for the bank door.

A lot of officers were shouting at him, but it was hard for him to understand them with the pleads in his head for them to not take him out, the noisy helicopter overhead, and the loudness of his heartbeat.

He almost crawled as he entered the glass doors of the bank as silently as he could.

It looked like Jungkook’s luck was turning around because not only were the masked robbers too busy stealing and yelling at people they had lying on the ground to see him, but they had their backs all turned to him. This was perfect.

Just as he raised a hand to do something one was suddenly knocked over making the other three robbers look in that direction.

Fire girl. She had dropped from seemingly nowhere and kicked one in the face before her feet even touched the floor.

There she was, in person, in action, and not just on tv. She now stood in the same room with him with her golden mask coving half of her face, her yellow eyes,doand bright red hair. Her skin-tight suit was a mix of yellow, orange, and gold. She was so unbelievably beautiful that he felt like it was melting his brain.

Before Jungkook could go into too many starstruck thoughts over it, his body told him to take action as gunfire began.

He raised his hand yet again and let a heavy and harsh stream hit one right in the back, knocking him forward so hard that his head hit the marble floor and the gun flew from his hand.

He had never done that to a person before, but his powers had done exactly what he wanted them to, just like always. For whatever reason, Jungkook was sure they would fail when the time came.

His heart raced as all eyes were on him now and his brain panicked with “holy shit, I’ really doing this”

“Who the hell are you?!”

The words didn’t come from anyone he was expecting, not a bank teller, not a civilian, not even a robber. It was fire girl who seemed lost.

Jungkook ignored it as he saw a gun now from one of the last two bank robbers being pointed in his direction.

Time seemed to slow as his body acted for him, getting low to the ground and holding out his hand for a powerful surge of water to release. It hit the man with the gun pointed at him directly in the face so hard Jungkook had thought it had broken his neck.

From his peripherals, he could see fire girl sweeping the legs of the last man and stepping on his neck.

And then there was silence.

Both he and the second hero collected the guns before Jungkook threw one of the robbers over his shoulder, then he went for a second one which he threw over his other one. Was he showing off his strength in front of a pretty girl? Yes. But it was working. She watched frozen for a moment as he took the two limp men over to the door and laid them in front of the glass for the police to see and gestured to them that everything was okay and that they could come in.

Dragging another robber across the floor and into the pile was fire girl.

Their eyes locked for just a moment and they both paused.

Jungkook was hit like an explosion, although it felt physical, he still stood frozen with his mouth dropped open. It felt like he had been shot but it wasn’t pain he had felt in his brain and chest, but with a powerful wave of ease and belonging. Although this feeling was new to him, there was a strange sense of deja vu about it as if he had lived and felt it before. His brain was in overload and began to shut down until nothing but static was left.

“Who are you?” She asked again but it was much much quieter.

Jungkook was at a complete loss for words.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Her voice went bitter and cold as she now gave him a shitty look through with her yellow eyes drilling into him through her golden mask that covered the top half of her face.

Again, Jungkook didn’t speak.

“YOU COULD’VE DIED!! It was obvious you didn’t know what the hell you were doing!” She was now pointing her finger angrily right in his face so close he felt his eyes cross.

“You stay the hell out of it amateur! Don’t EVER get involved in something like this ever again when you have no training and no control over anything in this situation ESPECIALLY when you have no control over your powers! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! You’re an idiot and you could've made this job so much harder for me!”

She yelled at him while all that Jungkook could think about was what the hell he was feeling and going through and how beautiful and powerful she looked when she was yelling at him.

“I-I-“ Jungkook was trying to muster the brainpower to speak “but everything was okay.”

He had been so lost in her that he didn’t even see it coming when he was tackled to the ground and his arms were forcefully bent behind his back.

A police officer was sitting on his back and applying cold metal handcuffs to his wrists.

“Ow ow ouch.” He winced at the crushing weight on his back and the bending of his arms which he thought might snap like the delicate bones of spicy chicken wings. He could see the feet of the hostages beginning to file out of the building, some in tears from their traumatic experience.

“Why am I being arrested?” he asked wondering why he was being treated like a bad guy when he had just saved people and why wasn’t fire girl being arrested as well.

He was pulled to his feet by the handcuffs and patted down.

“You were unauthorized to enter this building. You interfered with law enforcement.”

Jungkook wanted to tell the cop that law enforcement wasn’t even doing anything to assist in the situation anyway, but he knew that would be a bad move and didn’t want to make the situation any worse.

“Why isn’t she being arrested then?” he nodded his head towards the other hero.

“She’s fire girl. She’s a superhero.” the officer answered simply.

“TELL THEM!” Jungook begged her in desperation.

“Tell them what?” she crossed her arms and spoke with a sour tone.

“Tell them I helped.” he urged.

“But you didn’t.”

She was lying and they both knew it, however, the cop didn’t, and began to drag Jungkook away and out the door.

In the open, people swarmed. Onlookers, reporters, ambulances, fire trucks. Everyone was watching him get arrested as if he had robbed the bank himself.

He was stuck into the back of a cop car for far too long. He even got the chance to see flame erupt from fire girl’s feet and watched as she flew away. Was she a jerk like many other superheroes? Or did she just not want to see him get hurt? Jungkook chose to believe it was the second one. After all, his soulmate couldn’t be a lying jerk-bag, could she?

All rights reserved © 2020 - 2021 Jungc6ck No editing, copying, reposting, or translating allowed.

[spade-riddles]

Submission: Adjusting expectations

Okay, guys. Wading in here where it’s possible no-one wants me, but … here goes. 

We - Kaylors - are in a hard place right now. People feel hurt, they feel hopeless. They feel like they were led on by the likes of Spade. I’m not here to invalidate any of the feelings that come from seeing Karlie and Taylor play out this charade.  

But I think we (collectively, as a fandom) need to take a breath and ask if any of this is really as bad or unfixable as we think it is. Because, for me, the recent stunting is hard to stomach but not truly surprising. On some level this is how I expected Karlie and Taylor to handle both the birth of the baby and the launch of the rerecorded albums. As much I wanted to believe in the idea of spring breaking loose and bringing with it a fervent revolution … I could see the pieces still in play on the board and I doubted it was coming. 

I think the problem is that there was a split between the optimist and pragmatist sides of the fandom, over the last year or so. To be clear - I’m not judging the optimist side of the fandom. Not at all. Taylor has pulled wildcard moves before, and emotions run so high in all this, especially with a baby involved now, that I don’t blame people for wanting to believe the best. But it reached a stage where some of the things people were trying to talk themselves into were just wildly unrealistic. And when that happens, of course you’re going to get hurt. It’s inevitable. 

But let’s really look at this for a second. We should have known that neither Karlie nor Taylor was going to be shaving her beard in March. Ditching Jerk right after or just before the birth would have been too soon for Karlie. It’s not unusual for a celeb marriage to fizzle out within a year of the birth, but before the baby even arrives? That would be weird, and would draw attention just when it seems Kaylor don’t want it. They just had a baby. That’s an adjustment in itself, and Karlie is suffering enough social media hate on top of that. I wouldn’t blame her for just wanting to take a break and lie low during this difficult time. And unfortunately, for Karlie, that means maintaining the status quo of the situation she put herself in with Jerk. She may be doing the bare minimum to maintain it, but if she wants to avoid attention, she has to make it seem like everything between her and her “husband” is normal. And that she’s trying to make it work, which I believe will be important later. Good people try to make it work, even in bad relationships. 

Toe wasn’t going anywhere either. Taylor had relied on him so heavily during the promotion of Folklore, with the William Bowery narrative, that she was almost backed into a corner. She had to give some allusion to his air quotes “creative input” and their so-called happy relationship, or her failure to do so would have become the story and overshadowed her night. The headlines would have either been break-up speculation or complaints that she didn’t give him his due. We think the cutesy coverage after she named him in her acceptance speech was bad, but negative headlines have a far longer shelf life and can take on a life of their own. They would have been worse. Whatever we might think of Taylor’s actions, Folklore is one of her best albums and she deserved to have her night. 

So, on to the announcement of the birth. This is a tricky one, and again, I completely understand why people reacted so badly against it. It was everything we as a fandom said we didn’t want. It was Jerk using the baby for personal good PR. But I have to be honest here. I always thought we were kidding ourselves believing he would NEVER be seen with the baby or implied to be the father. I do believe Karlie is doing her damnedest to minimize the digital footprint of his involvement and keep her actual baby out of it. But he was always going to get to bask in the glow of playing daddy for a while. It’s the trade off Kaylor made when they used him to shore up their closet. 

This is also why I increasingly suspect the timing of the announcement got the green light from Kaylor too. If Jerk was always going to be assumed to be the father of Karlie’s baby, then there was always going to have to be a birth announcement that incorporated him somehow - unless the girls were ready to answer awkward questions, and it doesn’t seem like we’re there yet. So the best way to minimize the damage is to have his moment of glory overshadowed by a bigger win for Taylor. It worked pretty well actually. Even on Kaylor blogs the stunt was mostly buried by Taylor content.

I know a lot of fans feel gaslit by all the hints, but I do think there’s a possibility Taylor really didn’t grasp how hurt Kaylors would be. From her perspective, she “fed” fans three times over that night. She gave us a beautiful performance, a gorgeous red carpet moment, and a win to celebrate. I think it’s possible she really didn’t realize the double whammy of stunting that night would make it all feel worthless for many.

Taylor is in an awkward position. As a consequence of Kaylor retreating into the closet, the support base for them has shrunk. (When I use the words “Kaylor fandom”, I refer to this support base.) I would say Kaylor fandom consists of two parts. There is a silent portion, who observe events and comment anonymously, but don’t say anything “on main”. And then there are the small corps of true believers, who think Karlie and Taylor are still together and the baby is theirs. This latter group do most of the actual talking about Kaylor, but they tend to be pretty battle-hardened. They’ve been around for years, they never believe any of the stunts and their capacity to be hurt by them is, as a result, pretty limited. These Kaylors criticize sometimes, but they tend to fall back in line eventually and mostly adopt a “let’s wait and see how this all shakes out” approach. The problem is that I would say these “chilled” Kaylors are the minority. For their own sanity they curate their blog experience and often don’t post the more negative anons they get. Which is fine, but if you were looking at it from the outside, I could see how it might create an impression that the fandom as a whole can roll with the punches. And for a lot of the silent majority, that’s not the case. 

But again, I can see how Taylor might not necessarily know that. She went quiet after the Grammys, when I might have expected more celebratory posts from her. If I had to guess, I’d say she didn’t expect the backlash. I’m especially noticing a backlash against her for allowing Karlie to take so many hits while her own reputation has never been better. And I can’t defend her on that one, except to say I hope she has a plan. But I understand where people are coming from when they say the songs aren’t enough and actions speak louder than words. It’s tough to watch. 

Still, we’re in a position we should realistically have been able to see coming. We should have known Jerk wasn’t going to be out of the picture immediately after the birth. This is one of those things nobody likes, but maybe we all just have to be patient on. I don’t see Karlie busting out of the closet to admit her marriage was a fake, or testifying to the FBI. I think she’ll just let her marriage quietly fall apart, as many real marriages did during the pandemic. And for that to work, she needs to make it look like didn’t throw away a family unit lightly. Hence the “I tried” post, the social media break, and the suggestions of spending time with Jerk’s family. All of this can be spun later into a narrative of Karlie having tried to make it work, only to never really be accepted. The hate online affected her mental health and she gradually realized how unhappy she’d become and decided she needed to break free and find her old self again for her baby’s sake. This is the most likely narrative for Karlie’s freedom and it’s one that could work - but it’s going to take time to unfold. Personally, I’m giving it a year. If we don’t see a separation by then, and definitive moves to a reunited Kaylor, I’ll be bowing out. I’ll still know what I believe the truth to be, but I won’t see the need to devote my energy to defending it. ,

Meanwhile, the masters rerecords are about to be released, and Taylor has invested a lot in their success. Because of this, I can’t envision her coming out until at least the big three (Fearless, 1989, and Red) have dropped. She might drop hints, but I don’t expect anything earth-shattering. Even the order of the album releases seems to confirm this. She’s breaking out the big guns first. 

I’ve seen people speculate that because Rep can’t be rerecorded until 2022, Taylor will hold off on any coming out until then. And I’m not so sure of that. Yes, people listening to the album for clues would give Scott and Scooter money, but if we’re being honest, a fair amount of people are probably listening to those albums already, regardless of the drama. Those sleazeballs are profiting from Rep, full stop. But if Taylor profits more, from her bigger albums, she still wins. And she can still put out a Taylor’s version of Rep with vault tracks and collabs, to seduce people away from the Big Machine version in early 2022. Honestly, I think there’s a good chance Taylor would consider this is a worthwhile trade-off anyway, if it meant she got to live a more open life with Karlie - and most crucially, begin to repair Karlie’s reputation. As children get older and the world begins to leave the pandemic behind, it becomes harder to live behind closed doors. I guess we’ll find out how Taylor finds the reality of such a life, and what she considers worth sacrificing to step away from it. 

All this to say: I can’t predict the future more than anyone else, but I don’t think the situation we’re in now is irreparable, and if we’re being really objective, I don’t think it’s even surprising. I do think Taylor should give us something, if she wants to keep us around. No-one can live on a complete absence of hope, and as I’ve stated, letting the fandom dwindle to this extent has its own dangers. But I think we also need to keep our time frames realistic, even if it means rejecting lifelines like the Spade riddles. We shouldn’t expect Karlie to be free of Jerk for around a year, and we shouldn’t expect Taylor to do anything much beyond general music promo until at least the big three have dropped. Sucks to say it, I know. But at least this way we won’t be disappointed, and if Kaylor do pull a wild card and move towards freedom, we can be pleasantly surprised. 

Just my two cents. 

___________________

Well written and fair arguments on our reactions and expectations. I had typed up more, but I will let others post their comments before I chime in.

[thedisguisedaltruism]

fond stares, vast place, loud heartbeats

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, concert au

pairing: wonwoo/gn reader

summary: wonwoo hates the crowds, but he has to save up all his energy since you’re taking him as your concert buddy for taylor swift’s 1989 tour. little did he know, he will soon realize that he was actually in love with you, thanks to taylor and her wicked songwriting.

word count: 2,192

a/n: dumping this shit because too much feels for you are in love live :((

2015

“Wons, turn it up, turn it up!”

Wonwoo couldn’t help but snort from your excitement to see your longtime idol live. You worked hard to save enough so you could see Taylor Swift since then, and now you’re about to witness your turning point in life.

...together with your best friend, not to mention how he loathes crowds.

I Know Places is currently playing on the car stereo and you're warming up as you hit the high note in the chorus, dramatically pressing your chest with eyes shut. Wonwoo takes his final turn as you finally arrive at the stadium.

"Missed the note there, my friend." He teases. You could care less from his assed remarks because your mind's been in euphoria since you woke up from a power nap a few hours ago.

Outside the venue has already gathered a big crowd, and you patiently wait for your best friend who's double-checking the doors if they're surely closed.

Wonwoo has been your best friend for five years, and being grateful to have him is an understatement as he has witnessed your ups and downs in college. He knows that apart from your family and him, Taylor and her music has already played such a great role from adolescence until adulthood.

As a sucker for books, Wonwoo was undoubtedly impressed by Taylor's songwriting prowess since he listens to your discussions during the free time about the lyric analyses that you read across the internet, and you usually play her live performances whenever you pull off all-nighters that's why he agreed to be your concert buddy because he wants to see the person who could give rainbows to the person he likes.

Yes. The person he likes.

Wonwoo thought being in a Taylor Swift concert is not bad at all. It's like having a big crowd of best friends gathering in one huge place to have fun with their most talented best friend. Everyone's perfectly singing along to every lyric, breathing to each punctuation, and screaming at the top of their lungs.

Honestly speaking, he was having fun, and boy, he could sing along to a few songs while waving with his light-up bracelet. 

Aside from being fascinated by the live performances, he would sometimes steal glances at you, making him amused by your kaleidoscope of emotions you've shown from the past eight performances. Sometimes you'd turn to him just to sing while holding your chest, and go back to screaming how much you love Taylor Swift.

After the succeeding crowd-jumping performances, Taylor comes out with her black Gibson acoustic guitar to perform an acoustic version of her song just like the old days. The crowd has once again roared, and you scoot close to Wonwoo to whisper that Taylor's going to sing your favorite song from 1989.

He knows the story behind it. You told him on your graduating year at the rooftop of your college building while chugging an energy drink just to keep yourself awake from pulling off an all-nighter for your thesis, it was about Taylor’s known actress friend falling in love with her producer on this album—someone with the name Jack—if he could still guess correctly.

Taylor has already ascended for a clearer sight of crowds from the top seats, instructing everyone to sing back the specific words. Wonwoo watches you hugging yourself while craning your neck so you could see Taylor from above.

One look, dark room

Meant just for you

Time moved too fast

You play it back

Buttons on a coat

Light-hearted joke

No proof, not much

But you saw enough

  You and Wonwoo first met at the same elective during college freshman year. You were sitting near the door, sparing the next seat with your bag since someone from your class politely asked you to but unfortunately, she never came back and it was perfectly timed that Wonwoo immediately spotted the vacant seat beside you, exhausted from running before he gets late (yes, in a goddamn first day of class). 

  He learned that you’re taking up creative writing that’s why said elective was important for your course. He told you that he was taking up computer science, but he still needs to take the elective.

  ...and then, your friendship started.

  You have friends, but they’re few for your liking because socializing is exhausting. Wonwoo, on the other hand, despised being exhausted around people and that’s the reason why both of you became friends quickly. Reading was Wonwoo’s stress escape and yours was binge-watching k-dramas and reality shows.

  You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love

You are in love

  Since both of you chose to live in dormitories at college, sometimes you’d walk together around the university park late at night and talk about stuff happening in your life outside academics. One time, you told him how you’re pissed at your family’s insights about coming out since they happened to share once about how your cousin came out at a family gathering and the next moment, he was already in the hot seat. You told Wonwoo that you wished you were there to end all of your religious hypocrite relatives.

  Wonwoo, within the years of friendship, was never the type to initiate a conversation, but he’s an excellent listener. He could watch you talk about Taylor Swift, the perennial hate for your Major professor who’s academia-obsessed since she sets a standard too high for her liking while her class is on the brink of dropping out, and how you were fascinated about him staying up all night for computer games and still ace programming exams.

  Suddenly, the crowd started to roar out of the blue, making him shake his head from spacing out. Still standing, much to his surprise since he hates getting tired, he realized that he’s just watching you being helplessly in awe at Taylor Swift no matter how neck-stiffening it is, how your eyes sparkled with bliss just like the days when you talk with him about the things you love.

  And then he felt the pace of his heartbeat quickened.

  The crowd was already singing along with excitement—he has no idea what kind of reason it is—but he remains watching you like you were excruciatingly hard to reach, despite how you could hear his loud heartbeat if this was an empty place.

  One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says “You're my best friend”

And you knew what it was

He is in love

  You screamed you’re my best friend at the top of your lungs together with other sixty thousand people at Taylor despite how your best friend, who’s silently watching beside you, couldn’t calm himself down unnoticed.

  You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love

  Suddenly, you turn to Wonwoo as Taylor does her guitar break before singing the bridge, and you were surprised to see him just staring at you instead of watching Taylor from up above and tell you how skilled she was at playing guitar. The way he’s looking at you wasn’t even judging, teasing, or the usual antics that he does.

  He’s just looking at you fondly and you thought maybe, he’s extremely happy that you get to see your longtime idol live after all these years and you deserved it so much.

  ...except that your tentative guess is incorrect.

  “She’s really good, isn’t she?” you yelled at him proudly while pointing at Taylor with emphasis.

  Your best friend could only nod and gesture at you to look back on your idol.

  And so it goes

You two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round

And he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown

And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words

  That made Wonwoo look up to Taylor Swift in an instant and judged her as he could so. As Taylor stopped, the crowd screamed once again, but nothing is deafening as his heartbeat while watching you cheer in chorus.

  He didn’t know if he should feel betrayed, because you were his partner during graduation ball and you were just having the best time of your lives because fuck it, despite being anxious about what’s to come after the graduation, both of you were so happy to have been able to survive despite the shit hole life your university has given.

  He also happened to frame a picture of you in his office peacefully sitting beside the stacks of scratch papers for software development. He secretly requested for its original copy at the official student publication of your university during that one major event as he saw it on Facebook.

  He realized that he’s in love with you after all this time.

  Much to his misfortune, you suddenly looked at him again and your eyes met that he couldn’t look away, but this time it was replaced with worry. You caught him twice, and knowing Wonwoo, he’s not usually vocal when it comes to express his discomfort.

  You gently hold Wonwoo’s hand. “Are you having a bad feeling? We could go out if you want to,” you whispered just audible enough for him to hear.

  And that’s how he lost it. 

  It took him another deep breath to sink in that you chose his well-being over your once-in-a-lifetime moment with your idol.

  Like… holy shit, he was so lucky to have you in his life and he thought this time, he wants to step out of his shell and gather the courage to tell you how much you mean to his life. He’s had enough secretly pining over you for years.

  But first, he wants you to be happy and enjoy your time with Taylor. He shakes his head no and holds your shoulders to turn to Taylor who’s now descending for the next performance.

                      “I can’t believe she’s real, what the hell, she was fucking real, Wonwoo.” you sighed. “Oh my god.”

  You couldn’t stop wiping your face after spacing out which made Wonwoo chuckle. After the concert and almost a painful hour of waiting to get out of the stadium, you mutually agreed to stop by the nearest convenience store.

  Although you only bought a coffee and went back inside Wonwoo’s car.

  “Me too.” Wonwoo whispers. That made you remember what happened during You Are In Love performance. You looked at him and tapped his shoulder.

  “You looked unwell this evening. Were you honestly okay, Wons?” you ask.

  He only blinked in response.

  It took Wonwoo a few seconds to gather up his courage. Now that it’s only the two of you alone, he thought he must let it out.

  “Yeah, I was just overwhelmed. You don’t have to worry.” he jokes, his attention remained at the store. He could see from his peripherals how your eyebrows furrowed, obviously not convinced enough by his excuse.

  “What you told me about Taylor the first time you introduced her to me was...true,” he sighed deeply. “She sings what we couldn’t put into words.”

  For someone like Wonwoo whose eloquence is something to look up to, you were confused by what he meant.

  Wonwoo turns to face you and takes your icy palms to wrap them with his large, slender, and warm ones. 

  “I love you.” He says, straightly looking into your eyes.

  Your eyes widen in surprise.

  “Please don’t joke around!” You hit his shoulder, but all he does is let out a burst of breathy laughter.

  But honestly, your heart skipped a beat after hearing his sudden confession.

  Tracing circles on your hand, Wonwoo smiles at your bewildered expression. “You were wondering if I was having a bad time? No, it’s all Taylor’s fault for making me confess to you tonight. That took me a long time I guess.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “I love you and Taylor made me realize that I should confess before it gets too late.”

  You looked up at Wonwoo while pulling your hand from his gentle hold and laughed. It was unbelievable how both of you have been painfully oblivious despite being helplessly pining towards each other.

  It was your best friend’s turn to get puzzled so you took the time advantage to confess.

  “Idiot, I liked you too, ever since we first met.” sounding bashful, you looked away hoping that you didn’t sound like an idiot. So much irony for making fun of your best friend a few moments ago. “I have no idea that you felt deeper than I thought I have.”

  Even if you already knew how Wonwoo’s mind works for five years, he is always full of surprises.

  Or maybe he was so happy tonight that he kissed your hand and never let go of it as he started driving you home.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 06 part two

(Masterpost)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Bathing Boy Beauties

So, now we and Wei Wuxian get to see Lan Wangji with his shirt off. Eventually Lan Wangji will realize that his brother set this up, and will think of some way to get back at him, possibly by spending three years being stubborn in a cave or maybe by chopping an arm off of someone his brother cares about. 

This is A+ Yibo fanservice but it's also a male-male version of a trope that's ubiquitous in c-drama, in which the male lead takes a bath and the female lead sees him. The purpose of the scene is almost always so a woman can look a man’s body over and decide, not to put too fine a point on it, whether she wants to fuck him. 

Examples:

The Pillow Book - “Which part of Shen Ye is better than me?”

Women’s sexual agency is not often at the forefront in c-dramas, but the bathtub scenes are an acknowledgement of the female gaze, and of male objects of desire being subject to evaluation & approval.

Tientsin Mystic is a show with a lot of muscley swimming in it, In case you’re looking for your next Netflix show. 

As a CGI artist I have to mention that water does not reflect or refract 100% of light. If you look at a naked dingle-having person in a bathtub full of clear water you will definitely be able to see their dingle. But C-drama water is magic and nothing is visible below the waterline, to the point that Bai Yu is modestly covering his thoracic surgery scar chest in Detective L while leaving his lower half uncovered.

Note: that caption isn’t fake; she is really saying this on her way out the door, after having a long chat with him in the bathroom. You can find the whole series on YouTube.

Seen in this context, The Untamed’s two bathing scenes are saying quite a lot. Wei Wuxian, being a boy, doesn’t display any female-encoded shyness or modesty, but he and his sword pause for a moment of admiration.

(more after the cut!)

16 years later, Lan Wangji will sit quietly in this pool and let Wei Wuxian examine his wet body thoroughly from multiple angles, in a more prolonged invocation of this C-drama mating ritual.

Carrying on - was Xiao Zhan supposed to kick his boot in the water like that? Because if not, he rolls with it like a champ.

Wei Wuxian starts trying to be direct with Lan Wangji, giving him the worst, most neg-filled compliment ever, bless his heart.  

Then he says that there are benefits to being his friend, and starts taking off his clothes.

Wei Wuxian here takes his first step into the bold new world of respecting Lan Wangji’s boundaries, asking Lan Wangji to stay and saying he will keep his clothes on. 

Lan Wangji actually does stay, so he's apparently not too angry with Wei Wuxian about the drinking. Wei Wuxian invites him to visit Lotus Pier sometime (see my gifset here), but the promise of lotus pods doesn’t impress him. Then Wei Wuxian tries to tell him that the Yunmeng chicks really knock me out, they leave the rest behind. This also doesn’t impress him. 

You could read this macking-on-ladies talk as a sign that Wei Wuxian is oblivious to LWJ's feelings for him. But I read it as a bisexual boy being horny on main with a boy he likes, not  understanding yet that some boys don’t share all of his turn-ons.

Lan Wangji is sort of mildly startled when Wei Wuxian disappears under the water. His eye makeup is good here, isn’t it?.

Ice Cave

They end up in an ice cave and both spend the rest of the episode showing how good they look with wet hair. 

When the guqin starts attacking, Lan Wangji is only mildly perturbed about Wei Wuxian getting his shit rocked over and over.

Eventually he sends Bichen to protect his very bedraggled date. Lan Wangji’s sword is faster than the speed of a very slow sound wave.

Beauty's where you find it not just where you bump and grind it 

Gusuship Down

I feel like there are a couple of things in this show that are so problematic the fandom has silently agreed to never discuss them. Well, I’m here to talk about this one:

There are rabbits in this ice cave and they are wearing headbands. HEADbands. On RABBits.  

EXCELLENT FUCKING QUESTION, LAN WANGJI

*deep breath*

Are these rabbits lineal Lan descendants? Who makes the headbands? How do they stay on because “headband” here means “glowing cloud on forehead” without any actual band.  When rabbit babies are born, how do they stay safe while they’re waiting for someone to make them baby-sized headbands? Do these rabbits adhere to the other 3499 Lan Clan principles or just the headband one? Is any ol' rabbit allowed to touch a rabbit’s headband or is it limited to parents and significant others and is that even relevant when presumably these bunnies are all fucking each other like...bunnies?

The characters are like “oh, the rabbits are wearing headbands; killer guqin problem solved.” And then they move right the fuck along with their lives and the rabbit headbands are never seen or discussed again and I just want a hit of whatever the author or creative team was smoking when they came up with this whole idea.

Headband Sharing

When Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji to hand over his headband, Lan Wangji understands his entire rabbit-based thought process without asking

Gen-X Joke Alert

Wei Wuxian is awfully impressed by this sword-recall trick, considering that he did it himself when they went to the lake.

I see you know your way around a sheath

Killer Guqin

When they approach the guqin I hope that the subtitles are mistranslated, because Wei Wuxian keeps promising not to touch it and then says he can't look at it without touching it. I'm not going to touch it, I just need to touch it. 

Lan Wangji is going to teach Wei Wuxian some goddamn boundaries no matter how many times he has to make him fondle his sword.

Nothing suggestive here

Lan Wangji sits down to play the guqin and immediately goes off into the ether where there are seagull noises and plenty of fans. This is either a state of pure bliss, or he just really likes seagulls.

Did Lan Wangji just have a stealth orgasm?

Speaking of getting off, get your ass off of my desk

The Yin Iron

Lan Wangji does some spirit whispering, and suddenly the cave starts yelling at them. A bunch of clans are chanting in unison about a plan, which is the cultivator version of a battle cry.

Lancestor Lan Yi shows up. She is elegant and has a combination of sweetness and gravity that is similar to Lan Xichen’s. And none of Lan Qiren’s douchiness.

Search Party

Lan Qiren is worried and Lan Xichen is worried and they have sent people to look for the boys. It's really too bad nobody around here knows magic.

All these powerful cultivators search for missing people by running around outdoors yelling for them. 

Yanli is excused from PE class because she’s not feeling well, so she sits on a rock in the woods instead of, you know, staying home in the first place. She gets bored sitting down and unwisely decides to walk two or three steps. Xuan Lu, seen here competing in a gymnastics event, gamely pretends she can’t climb a small rock. 

Yanli falls into Jin Zixuan's arms and they gaze at each other for a long heterosexual moment. 

No homosexual explanation possible

This means two things: 1. he isn't looking very hard for her brother if he's hanging out here catching wobbly girls 2. soulful longing looks from him ain't shit, because he's going to dump her in the next episode.

Lanny Granny

Lan Wangji intros himself to Lan Yi and does a full prostrate bow. Wei Wuxian does a standing bow since he's not a descendant, just a future in-law.

No I mean come on, HEADBANDS

Lan Gran explains the entire history of the yin iron. It's bad, it's full of resentful energy, no-one should use it. She’s going to dump it on a couple of 16 year old boys, one of whom has a woody for using resentful energy, because it’s destiny and her battery is about to run out. 

Props to the Prop Department; this thing does look pretty cool

Xue Chonghai was the most problematic cultivator back in the old days. He killed a lot of dudes and fed their resentment to...a turtle? To the disk? I don’t know; I literally am unable to pay attention when anyone is explaining the intricacies of the unobtanium Yin Iron. 

Anyway there’s a disk and it’s soaked up a lot of resentment.  

Using it makes people evil. Well except..clearly this dude started off evil, yeah? If he was feeding people to his turtle.

Side effects may include: being fucking crazy

Here Wei Wuxian brings out his "resentful energy is awesome" theory and has an experienced grown-up grand master tell him that she also thought this, and has spent 100 years locked in a cave with headband-wearing rabbits because she was super fucking wrong. Does this deter him? ...nope

Baoshan Sanren

Now she name checks Baoshan Sanren, and Wei Wuxian has a big reaction and Lan Wangji has a big noticing of Wei Wuxian’s reaction. He’s very attuned to Wei Wuxian’s emotional state, in the moments where WWX lets his actual feelings show through the sass and swagger.  

Lan Gran talks about her search for the Yin iron, and Lan Wangji wisely says, if you can't neutralize it, why look for it? And she says, I was filled with hubris just like ya boi Wei Wuxian.  Lan Wangji points out the exact same shit he will later point out to Wei Wuxian.

So now we have a parallel in which Lan Yi is just like Wei Wuxian and Baoshan Sanren is just like Lan Wangji, yeah? Which is kind of sweet; it shows how these types are drawn together and how your clan doesn't determine your personality. Also it shows how the Lan clan has room for an unorthodox clan leader. Also it shows how the Yin Iron causes some really bad breakups. 

These boys are standing on snow barefoot which has got to take a pretty high cultivation level. Look how short Lan Wangji is without his stilettos, aww.

Flashback to Baoshan Sanren, just long enough to appreciate how beautiful she is.

Did OP give up on recoloring that flashback-blue-hazed image and just start fucking around with random filters? Yes she did. 

We also get to see that Lan Yi and Lan Wangji have more common than just guqin, because they both like to solve problems by kicking them.  

So after breaking up with her girlfriend, Lan Gran became invisible in this cave for 100 years while trying to contain the Yin iron and put headbands on rabbits. 

Soundtrack: Vogue by Madonna Writing prompt: Watership Down rabbits meet Lan rabbits

Bonus extended bath clip:

Bai Yu, Detective L

[cureicy]

I love bsd wan because not only does it provide me with much needed serotonin in the form of cute chibi antics, it has some excellent and easy to understand characterization that doesn’t require an entire meta essay to figure out.

First episode: we see more of Atsushi being internally snarky about Dazai’s laziness, discover that Yosano enjoys wine, and Ranpo really likes small spaces full of food to hang out. Second episode: Higuchi is really trying her best to be helpful to everyone at work, and Kyouka’s need to be useful to others sometimes comes into competition with Atsushi’s. I think there’s an argument to be made for neurodivergent Higuchi, honestly; she sometimes misses social cues, hyperfixates on tasks, and has deep seated trauma from being considered useless that she copes with by becoming a people pleaser at the expense of her own health

Fourth episode, we see more of Akutagawa’s intense loyalty to Dazai, but also that Atsushi is passive aggressive and would rather avoid arguments than explain himself. Rather than openly telling Akutagawa “Dazai sent me here to act as the intermediary and deliver the groceries to him,” he just walks away and decides that finding him again is Akutagawa’s problem. He’s usually confrontational, but because of their work sanctioned partnership, he’s just...tired of being forced to work together. So he decides to take the moral high ground because he doesn’t want Akutagawa to have it. And then, when they get in a fight over whether Akutagawa is keeping his promise not to kill, Atsushi stalks him to make sure he’s fulfilling it, then feels bad about doubting him. And the really interesting bit-- he buys him pork buns as an apology, and calls Akutagawa a pig for snatching them up so fast with his ability. But both of them grew up hungry; beast has shown us that they can get along quite well and relate to each other if they meet on equal footing. If Atsushi knew about Akutagawa’s past, I wonder if he would have had the same reaction; if he would have sympathized with hoarding food like you don’t know where your next meal will come from. Then there’s the horror stories episode, in which we see that Kunikida has an extremely unhealthy outlook on work/life balance, Dazai and Kyouka are a bit hit-or-miss on stories that are both appropriate for work and unrelated to mafia trauma, and atsushi’s worst fear is being unable to trust his own perception. Kunikida is scared of failure, Kyouka no longer has a normal fear response because ~emotional repression~, Dazai is really fucking tired and probably needs to look into chronic fatigue as a symptom of PTSD, and Atsushi has been manipulated and gaslit so much that he no longer trusts his own mind to tell him what’s real or not. (That would actually make a good angst/horror fic; atsushi keeps seeing strange things, but can’t tell if they’re hallucinations or not.)

On a lighter note, let’s look at the school AUs. Episode five confirmed that Dazai’s basically a melodramatic chuunibyou, and while he and Chuuya will get into fights with each other, they still care. They’re just tsundere and have no idea how to express affection. And the preschool AU about Dazai getting bullied by four year olds and obsessing over a children’s cartoon was, first of all, a big mood, and second of all, showed that Ranpo has trouble relating to kids his own age and is lonely. Kyouka is creative, but has trouble expressing herself to others and gets disheartened when she isn’t understood. That might explain her blunt manner of speaking later in the series-- when she first meets Atsushi, she introduces herself, explains what she’s done, and expects him to understand her guilt. But he can’t comprehend what she means until she says “I don’t want to kill anyone anymore!” and leaps out the window. They have a really interesting and underexplored dynamic where they care deeply about each other, but don’t have a broad enough worldview to understand each other. And so Atsushi sees Kyouka as an innocent victim of a horrible and cruel person, and Kyouka sees Atsushi as a kind and pure savior who needs to be protected from doing harm, and they don’t truly understand how complex the other is. But they try their best to show affection in the ways that they know how.

tldr, wan explores characterization in simple and easy to understand ways and despite being a cutesy spinoff, it can provide a better understanding of canon

additions to this post are welcome! i’ve likely missed some things and would love to discuss <3