#sure hope non of the people who hate him scroll through his tags

[frequentderealizationcore]

Man jason is such a good person I love him so much. I would totally trust him to protect innocents because he's just a good person. I love having a fav character that's angry about the injustice in their world and he does whatever it takes to help. What a great guy.

[letarasstuff]

Making the Voice quieter

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it!

Summary: Spencer finds out about his daughter's eating disorder, he will he react?

Warnings: Angst, discription of an eating disorder (bulemia to be more specific), discription of (binge) eating, bad body image, self hatred, abuse of pills (diet pills)

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨

______________________________

Prison. Cat. Diana. All those things happened close to each other. Luckily a few months have passed since then and slowly everything settles down. Spencer is able to get his feelings sorted through, processing the events.

Ever since his imprisonment he follows a more or less strict routine, given the uncertainty coming with his job. Spencer still tries to keep it up. So is every Friday dedicated to buying the majority of groceries and needed non food articles.

Sometimes (Y/N) tags along, other days she already has plans with her friends. Her father doesn’t mind it much, he is happy to see her socializing with people her age. The two of them have one father-daughter-night in the week anyways.

“Sweetheart, I’m heading out! Did you put everything you need on the list?” He shouts into the apartment. A faint “Yes! Love you!” echoes back to him. A smile forms on the doctor’s face. Oh how he longed to hear those words from her every night while he laid in his bed, locked up for a crime he didn’t commit. “Alright, love you, too!”

Meanwhile her father has to deal with Karens being their ignorant selfs, (Y/N) is under the biggest stress she has ever been. The end of her sophomore year and suddenly every teacher thinks it’s alright to give the students a load of work in every single class.

It’s beginning to get to her head. Four essays, three projects and studying for two tests and everything is due next week. She can see herself sitting at that very desk for the whole weekend, trying to contain control of her current situation.

As (Y/N) begins to read the page in front of her again to pull any information from it, it feels like her brain shuts down. Only one thought possesses her. One thing that can assure her, make her happy again.

Her body moves automatically, into the kitchen to the fridge. Her hands grab what they can. Puddings, yogurts, bananas, apples, last night’s dinner, everything that she can carry. Then the teenager sits down at the floor and devours everything she just got out. (Y/N) doesn’t stop until she gets to this intense feeling of being full.

It seems like she snaps out of a trance. Upon seeing what she ate in the shortest time, the girl feels even worse. Quickly she tries to destroy any kind of evidence, getting the trash out, making the fridge appear more full than it is, anything.

In her panicked state she remembers the small container of pills in her room. Relief washes over (Y/N), thinking everything will be better. She takes two of them for good measurement.

With the relief also guilt takes over. What just happened wasn’t normal. But (Y/N) tells herself that she can stop any time she wants. It’s not like she is sick or something, everything is fine. It’s just her way to copy stress. A way she discovered while her father was in prison. The diet pills help her to undo her mistakes. Someone from her friend group, who is already 18, got her them from the doctor for a fair price.

Feeling calmer now, the teenager sits back at her desk. A new perception of control helps her to continue her school work. She has to get done as much as possible, because in not even half an hour (Y/N)’s best friend will be the toilet.

Spencer is completely obvious to it. Sure, he is a profiler and he noticed his daughter’s new view on eating healthy food and working out. He just assumes that (Y/N) and her friends are on a healthy trip and he doesn’t see a problem in this. On the contrary, he is happy that she wants to be good to herself and her body.

But as the weeks go on, a suspicious feeling captures him. “(Y/N)? Why is the fridge nearly empty? We got groceries last Friday and it’s only Tuesday. Did you have a party over here while I was away on the case?” Spencer enters his daughter’s room, trying to joke about it.

(Y/N) freezes. Of course she isn’t able to say that the food went bad and she threw them away, her father is meticulous regarding this subject, always checking the best before day date. “Uhm, please don’t be mad. But Alex, you know her, the short one with red hair, uhm her parents are on a business trip and she is not the best cook. So I brought her lunch and dinner over. I’m sorry for not telling you.” She looks down at the floor, not only to feign sadness but also to avoid his eyes.

The second the teenager talks Spencer knows there is something fishy. Her voice is higher and she fidget with her hands. But he writes it off as being nervous for not telling him. Ever since he is out of prison, it feels like his daughter is withholding something.

“It’s fine, Sweetheart. Just give me a heads-up beforehand, so I know to buy more groceries. What do you think about ordering something tonight? I heard from Luke that a small Chinese restaurant opened a few streets down. We can celebrate the end of the stressful phase in Sophomore year.”

It seems like (Y/N) is calculating something in her head. Spencer knows exactly what she thinks about. “You can forget about your calorie intake for one night. I see how much time you invest in living healthy, but we can let loose for a night together. Just some noodles with chicken or spring rolls and us trying to use chopsticks and giving up after two minutes and resorting to forks. How does that sound?”

The teenager would love to sigh, but it would only alarm her father further. “Yeah, you are right. Let us let loose. But only if I can choose the movie we watch after dinner!” (Y/N) feels bad for eating unhealthy food again. Her last binge was only yesterday and usually she tries to consume lighter things. But she has to bite into the sour apple, else her father will be more suspicious. After all, she can just stop. (Y/N) promises herself to not think about her weight, her shape or the calories she will eat.

Well yeah, no. Just after the first noodle hits her tongue, intrusive thoughts take a seat in her mind, getting settled.

‘You already look like a potato.’

‘Are you sure this is the right thing to eat?’

‘Can you really stop?’

‘Dad is going to hate you when he finds out.’

All of them and more enter her head. (Y/N) is unable to shake them off. She is fine. She doesn’t have a problem. She just doesn’t feel like eating now, that’s fine, right?

“Uhm Dad. I’m full and really tired from the day. Is it ok if I go to bed? Maybe we can rain check on that movie?” The girl asks, feeling even worse for ditching her father. Usually it’s the other way around.

“Are you feeling ok? You look a little pale. Are you sick?” Spencer fires his question canone being the borderline helicopter father he always is. “Yes, just really exhausted from all the assignment and school work. A good night's rest and I will be good as new.” (Y/N) attempts a small smile, but fails miserably at it.

“Ok, sleep tight baby. I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge for you tomorrow.” Quickly she goes into her room. The thoughts in her head scream louder and louder with each step she takes. Can she really stop? Maybe she should come clean to her father.

‘And risking him hating you? Look at you, thinking you are sane is the only thing keeping him from abandoning you. How would you explain him keeping you otherwise? It’s definitely not for your looks.’

Later that night, (Y/N) hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep because of the voices, she makes her way back to the kitchen. In an attempt to distract herself, the teenager scrolled through her social media sites. There she was met by pictures of perfect people.

Perfect bodies. Perfect lives. Perfect smiles. Perfect family. Perfect friends. Everything about them is perfect.

And then there is her. Her body is unperfect. Her life is a mess. Her smile is not that of a model. Her family is just her, her father and the people he works with. Her friends aren’t always the best associates.

The stress of not feeling enough is getting to (Y/N)’s head. Like several times before that her body goes into auto. She doesn’t control her movements, though she tells herself all of this is willently.

Like so many times before the girl goes through the fridge and eats everything up she can get her fingers on. But this time one thing is different. Her father is at home. And he isn’t a heavy sleeper.

The movement in the kitchen wakes him up. Immediately his brain jumps to a burglar or even worse, an UnSub they once arrested coming after him. Quickly he gets his revolver and sneaks through the hallway to the source of the noises. As Spencer only sees his daughter sitting there, he instantly relaxes.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing up? It’s a school night”, he softly asks in order to not scare her. Still, (Y/N) gets startled at the sudden voice.

“Uhm, nothing much. Just hungry. Probably because I didn’t eat dinner”, she explains, looking at her father like he caught her with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. Spencer watches her closely. “This is it? Because from what it looks like you not only ate your dinner but also tomorrow’s breakfast and right now lunch.”

(Y/N) swallows her bite, feeling that sinking reality in her stomach. The pills. She needs the pills fast before her body begins to digest the food. “Uhm, yeah. I probably should go to bed. I need my sleep. Just let me tidy up. Good night, Dad.” But he is quick to stop her.

“(Y/N), I want you to sit down. There is something we have to talk about.” Hesitantly (Y/N) takes a seat. “What is it Dad? Are you reprimanding me for eating? I thought you wanted me to let loose for a night.”

Spencer sits, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Baby, I want you to be alright. But I think you are not.” His eyes get a sad look. “I’m alright. I am fine, Dad. What do you think is wrong with me?”

“Look, (Y/N), I don’t need to be a profiler to see that you are struggling with something. Do you want to tell me about it?” Her answer is a tight lipped smile and a “I’m fine. There is nothing to talk about.”

The father sighs. She is not leaving him much of a choice. “And what about them?” Spencer asks after getting something from the highest shelf in the kitchen, the one (Y/N) barely reaches by stepping on a stool. He sets a little container down on the table.

“Dad I-” “No (Y/N). You don’t need to explain anything. It’s my turn to talk. I found those in your room yesterday while I was looking for a book. At first I thought nothing of it, I mean you are trying to live healthy, so I thought this is part of the process. But then I saw that they have to be prescribed and I know that these aren’t yours.

“I wanted to talk about it with you anyway. But now I know that I caught you binge eating and I see all the signs. I see them and I’m sorry for not acting sooner. (Y/N), you need help and I’m here for you. I know the last few months were especially hard on you. I can’t change what was and what happened, but I will be here for you now." Tears stream down on boths their faces.

(Y/N) is stammering for words. “I-I am fine. I can stop anytime I want. Th-this was a conscious d-decision.” Her father envelops her in a hug, cradling her head to his chest. She begins to sob.

“I know, Sweetheart. It’s hard and it won’t get easier from here on, but I’m here. You know you can’t stop, it’s only an illusion your eating disorder wants you to believe. But we get through it together. You, I and the team if you want to. We take it at your pace.” By now the two are crying loudly.

“I want it to stop, Dad. Please make the voice go away.”

He can’t make it go away. No one can. But Spencer helps to quiet it. Together they tackle the disorder, through the good and the bad times. He takes off from work for a time and (Y/N) out of school for a few weeks to be able to work on it together, to make the voice quieter and her life better.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Night Tour ~ KNJ [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 2K

↬↬↬Genre: Fluffy!!! Non!Idol Au, Street artist Reader! Museum worker Namjoon

↬↬↬Pairing: Namjoon x Gender Neutral Reader

Namjoon walked down the streets with his glasses on, he'd heard that the famous unknown street artist was out again and he was dying to get a glimpse of their work again. He'd slipped into a hoodie, jeans and put on his thick-rimmed glasses, he wanted to be ready to see the work that was bound to be amazing just like the rest. He had been walking around the streets for hours trying to find out where the artist would hit but it always changed whenever they did something, the last time it was an abandoned factory floor and Namjoon had just missed the artist. The paint cans were thrown to the side and the paint dripping wet so the artists couldn't have been far. His head spun around when he heard the familiar sound of a spray paint tin hitting the floor, he thought it could have been them but it was just kids spraying on the side of a dumpster. The first time he'd ever seen some of the artist's work was when he was walking home from a night shift at the museum he worked in.

The museum he worked in was four floors high, it was just an art museum where he took night shifts patrolling the corridors to make sure nothing was ever stolen he had hoped the night work would eventually lead onto the day work but it hadn't happened. So he spent most of his night walking around the museum and taking note on everything he saw, learning everything he could on each piece that was there. So much so in fact that he could probably give the guided tours with his eyes closed taking people around there. 

"See you tomorrow Namjoon," The day guard said as Namjoon walked out of the back entrance and into the alleyway of the museum where he was shoved against the wall quickly as someone in a hoodie raced past him, 

"Hey! Watch it!" He yelled out at the person when he was pushed against the wall again by two policemen who were racing after the first one. 

"Sorry, sir!" He shook his head at the officer that had apologised and began his slow walk home towards his apartment in the middle of town but that was when he noticed it, a giant spray-painting across one of the walls of a building in the alleyway. It was beautiful, the painting was telling a huge story about global warming and what it was doing to everyone around them. 

"Whoa." He ran his hand over the paint when he felt how wet it was, whoever the police were chasing must have been the artist that had created this masterpiece. He took a step back to admire it, even more, when he noticed the tag along the side of it, 

'Zee'

He took a photo of it on his phone before searching for the tag online, there had to be someone else who had seen this artwork before and as he walked he dove deeper into the artist. 

"An unknown street artist who goes by the name Zee, are they ruining property or just spreading a message?" He whispered to himself as he walked up to his apartment building and opened the door, he held it open for an elderly lady who thanked him before leaving. He clicked on images scrolling through to thousands of posts from people all sharing what amazing work that artist had done, it was incredible. Whoever Zee was, took things that were happening within the world and painted them onto the side of buildings, tracks and billboards so that people would finally come to their senses. 

"Who are you?" He whispered seeing the same black hoodie that had sprinted past him in the alley, people had caught glimpses of Zee before but never their full face. No one knew who they were or what they looked like. It was clear Zee wanted their identity to be hidden for a reason - mostly because of the cops Namjoon thought but this only intrigued him more as he continued scrolling for hours. Learning everything he could about their art style and being captivated by each masterpiece that could be found.

As he was about to give up on finding Zee when he heard sirens and someone yelled out a string of curse words before dropping something against the stone floor, his head snapped around to see the same black hoodie as before racing towards him only down the opposite side was four policemen. 

"Here!" You frowned hearing someone calling out to you, a guy who stood around 5''11 dressed in a hoodie and blue jeans was grabbing onto your wrist and pushing you against a wall, 

"Get off me!" You screamed wiggling against his grasp when he stood in front of you and titled his head to the side, he ripped down your hood and smirked. 

"Hi Zee," You groaned at him when you heard police rushing down behind him, 

"Excuse me," Namjoon turned to face them and you froze thinking that this was it, it was finally the moment you were about to get caught after all the years of work you'd done. 

"Yes, officer?" His hand linked with yours and automatically your heart began to pound against your chest, looking up at his sharp jawline and taking in his appearance. It was only now you were realising how good looking he was, his hair was blonde and to the side, he had huge glasses on that made his big brown eyes look adorable. 

"Have you seen someone rush by here? They would have been carrying paint with them?" You swallowed the lump in your throat trying to hide your paint covered hands behind Namjoon who pulled you closer and chuckled. 

"Sorry officer, I was a little preoccupied with my partner." The officer nodded before bidding you goodbye and going back towards the alleyway exit.

"You covered for me...Why?" You pulled your hand away from him not wanting to give in to the fact that just because he was incredibly good looking he could touch you like that.

"I find your work to be great Zee, always wanted to meet you." You nodded at him slowly and held out your hand for him to shake, 

"I'm Namjoon." He shook your hand and you felt that same intense spark from before rush through your body, sending shivers up and down your spine as he looked down into your eyes. 

"Y-Y/n." You stuttered out, you'd never told anyone your real name before. Sure fans had met you but you never told them who you were, it took away the allure to your work but with Namjoon it was different. The longer he stared into your eyes the longer you wanted to tell him everything about your life, as if he had some kind of weird superpower that drew you into him.

"What got you into street art?" You laughed softly as he questioned you, heading straight in for the questions but instead of being creeped out by the sudden interest it made you smile and feel warm inside. 

"W-well I-" You didn't know, you just viewed it as art and a way of sending a message, 

"I'd tried as a normal artist for years...Canvas's, photograph and stuff but it just never took off...Street art was a way of vocalising myself and what's happening in the world." Without even realising you were now walking together and towards the work you'd just done, it wasn't finished because the police had shown up, 

"I think your work is amazing." You smiled at him and began walking together towards your car, 

"I feel like I've seen you before." You mumbled as you reached a parking lot, you always parked in the same one next to the museum and he chuckled. 

"You pushed me against a wall a couple of months ago...Completely my fault I'd just walked out of work." You stared over at where he was pointing at the museum, 

"You work there?!" He nodded his head at you frowning as to why you seemed so excited about it,

"I love it there! I used to go all the time as a kid!" You yelled excitedly checking the time to see if you had time to head inside but it was getting close to their closing time, you never had time to go anymore. Between painting and work it had been hard to fit fun stuff into your life,

"Damn it."

"What?" He asked he hated that your smile had faded into a frown, 

"It's closing soon, I just- I wanted to go." You sighed leaning against your car and staring at it, he could already tell you were disappointed in not getting to go. 

"Meet me there tonight? In two hours? I'll sneak you in and we can have a night tour together." You stared at him with wide eyes, was he serious. 

"Like a date?" You whispered looking him in the eyes and biting down on your lip, it had been years since anyone had even come close to asking you out and your heart was thumping against your chest.

"Yeah...Yeah I mean if that's okay." He stuttered out looking at you with a giant smile on his face to match the one that was now painted across yours. 

"A night tour sounds perfect," You leant up taking charge of the situation and kissed his cheek, 

"I'll see you later Namjoon." You whispered before getting into your car and driving away from him while he sat there smiling wildly. 

"This is my favourite," You watched as Namjoon raced over to a painting of a huge garden full of couples. He went into a lengthy talk about what the painting was about and who had painted it, he had done it throughout the whole night and you smiled the whole time just listening in 'awe' as he spoke lovingly about every single thing within the museum,

"You should be giving the tours," You whispered when he returned back to your side, you took his hand in yours as you turned around one of the corners and walked towards some sculptures. You were almost done with everything inside of the museum and it had taken the whole night to get around everything because he would go into length talks. You didn't care though, spending all of this time with him made you feel special.

"What's this?" You asked walking over to a rope and he chuckled just shaking his head, 

"Just a rope," You titled your head to the side and pulled it, it drew open the curtains that were on the skylight right above you and you gasped looking up to see a clear night sky with the stars and moon right in front of you.

"Whoa." You whispered

"Looks like something you would paint." Namjoon chuckled looking up at the sky before down at you, you were busy staring into the sky you hadn't felt his eyes on you.

"W-What?" You stuttered out looking back into his eyes when he cupped your chin between his index finger and his thumb tilting your head up to look at him in the eyes before he began leaning down, your eyes fluttered shut as our lips came into contact with one another. Your arms moved around his neck while his wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him and kissing you softly under the starlight night. It felt like something that only ever happened in books and movies, the whole world seemed to brighten up the moment he kissed you and you. 

"Whoa," You whispered pulling apart from him and staring into his eyes, that was when there was small laughter coming from the other side of the room. You both pulled apart to see someone covered in tattoos with long black hair standing there, 

"Jungkook-" Namjoon when to complain but Jungkook held up his hand and shook his head, 

"You enjoy your date, I'll go back downstairs and main the first floor." Jungkook laughed leaving you both there embarrassed that you had just been caught in a makeout session.

"Friend of yours?" You laughed softly pulling back and holding his hand, he nodded. 

"Yeah...He works here on the bottom floor. I'm sorry-"

"Don't be, you can make it up to me later...On another date?" You questioned looking into his eyes and praying that he said yes, 

"I'd love to."

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies​ @snowy-meowl​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @lynnthevirgo​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @rjsmochii​ @callingmyangel​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @innersooya​ 

[thecassadilla]

Change of Pace - Chapter 2

Pairing: Kristanna

Chapter 2 on AO3 

Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,332

Summary: With her sister’s blessing, Anna takes a step back from her royal duties and finds herself working for a ski resort nestled in the mountains. A chance encounter with the resort’s maintenance technician leads them down an unexpected path, as they must work together to plan the resort’s annual ball - and maybe fall in love in the process.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Sorry to leave you all with a cliffhanger last week! This chapter picks up on the same day but from a different perspective ;). I’m thinking I’m gonna update on Tuesdays every week if that’s cool? Or should I try to update more often? Also, if you celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope you enjoy the holiday safely! Sorry for all the asterisked words - tumblr likes to censor and remove posts from tags if they have “bad” words in them, but the uncensored version is on AO3. Enjoy!!!

There were very fews words that Kristoff Bjorgman would use to describe his life; miserable, mundane, ordinary. From the minute he woke up in the morning until the minute he went to bed at night, he wished he were someone or somewhere else.

Nobody stayed in Valley of the Living Rock - often shortened to Valley - if they could help it. The main draw to the area was Valley Ski Resort, which was nestled in the mountains. For decades, the town flourished during the winter months, but suffered as warm weather drew near due to the resort’s influence. Most of the people who stayed in town year round lived above their means, as it was difficult to find and keep work when the money practically dried up in the summertime. That all changed when the resort began to expand - adding amenities such as a pool, archery, horseback riding, and a multitude of events that attracted people during the hottest months of the year.

After the resort expanded, the local government decided to put money into the town itself, enticing visitors to venture away from the resort during their visits and see what the town had to offer. Tourists began to appreciate Valley itself as a picturesque, quaint town they could visit during their stay at the resort, and money began to pour into the local economy. Deciding to take full advantage, the decision was made for the main street to be transformed to a “Winter Wonderland,” with the storefronts adorning themselves with string lights, wreaths, and pine garland in the colder months. Business boomed and as the years went on, more and more people came to visit.

For Kristoff, life in Valley was bleak. Abandoned at birth, it was difficult to navigate the foster system as a small, generally “unwanted” child. He was bounced around a lot in his early years before becoming one of the lucky few who managed to find a family willing and able to foster him until adulthood. But people talked, and in small towns like his, that gossip traveled fast. By the time he made it to high school, he had hardly any friends. The only good thing that had ever happened to him - aside from his family - was his ex-girlfriend, Joslyn. She moved to Valley in their senior year of high school, and was as much of an outcast as he was. They became fast friends and eventually started a relationship. She stuck around for a few years and attended the local community college while they dated, but like everyone else who had the opportunity, she eventually moved on. The breakup was amicable and he admittedly missed her from time to time, but also understood that where she was going was bigger and better than what Valley - and he - had to offer. 

As a junior in high school, he’d managed to snag a job at Valley Ski Resort as a janitor, and then after he graduated, he took courses in plumbing, electricity, and heating, ventilation, and air conditioning in order to be promoted to a maintenance technician. It was a year round job with sh*tty pay, but it put food on the table and he had to take whatever he could get. On the bright side, it was a step up from cleaning bathrooms and mopping floors. There was no escaping Valley, for a person like him.

He didn’t mind the work at all, but there were few words to describe how much he loathed the hotel. The people who visited were willing to spend a fortune on the amenities, but were generally unkempt behind closed doors. He could think of several occasions where he’d nearly slipped on a used c*ndom after being called to a guest room for maintenance, or how frequently the pipes would clog because people were determined to flush non-flushable items. 

But still, he went to work everyday, and waited to go home. He did what he had to do and he hated every second of it. The only advantage of working at the resort was the employee ski pass that came along with it. He frequently spent his weekends navigating the slopes and had worked his way up to expert-level. Coasting down the side of a mountain was freeing. For those few hours, he could put aside the monotonous life that he lived and could focus on what was right in front of him. 

On this particular day, he had a sinking feeling about heading into work. He just knew that something bad was going to happen - he could feel it in his chest. He debated calling out, but because he couldn’t afford to miss a day without pay, he had to go in, bad feeling or not. The feeling only got worse as he climbed out of his car and stared at the main building in front of him.

The interior of the resort was in desperate need of an upgrade; faded, worn-out gray carpet covered the floors of the lobby area, and old-school style wood paneling laced the walls. The guest rooms in the central building remained the least expensive as a result of this, and as part of the resort’s expansion process, dozens of stand-alone cabins were built on the property. Difficult to maintain, but guests were willing to pour money into spending a week in a luxury cabin with the same amenities as a hotel but with the added benefit of a home-y feel. 

He walked in through the employee entrance, which happened to be situated right next to the lobby area but was only accessible from the outside. Down a long stretch of hall and then to the left sat the maintenance office. One of the perks of the job was that he didn’t have to wear coveralls like he did when he was a janitor; just dark-colored jeans, a company-provided shirt with the hotel’s name stitched onto the front, and work boots. He dropped his jacket in his locker, grabbed one of the work cell phones so that the front desk could reach if he was needed for a repair or other issue, and walked into the main office, where his boss, Andrew, was scrolling through his email.

“Hey, man,” he said.

The other man glanced back for a second before returning to his work. “Hey, Kristoff.”

“What’s on the agenda today?”

“Nothing crazy,” Andrew responded. “A couple of rooms complained of low water pressure, so we’ll have to check that out. It’s probably calcium buildup that’s clogging the showerheads, or a clog, or something. But aside from that, it seems like it’s going to be a pretty normal day.”

He heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

He didn’t mind working with Andrew; he was quiet and kept to himself, which Kristoff appreciated. It was easier to work with someone who didn’t waste half the day with gossip or other nonsense. Having a job was about getting work done, after all.

Andrew had a list of the rooms that had been experiencing the low water pressure from the front desk complaints, so when he finished answering his emails, they set off to figure out what exactly was happening and why it was happening. “I bet another pipe froze again.”

“This hotel is so old, do they even realize that the pipes probably have to be replaced?”

“They know, they just won’t listen,” Andrew said, shaking his head. “This is going to be a losing battle for the rest of eternity.”

Just as they made it to the first floor of guest rooms, a call came over on Andrew’s work phone. They stopped in the middle of the hallway so he could pick it up. 

“Hello, this is Andrew from maintenance,” he answered, scrunching his face up in concentration. “They said the water smelled bad? Did they say if it was a weird color or anything?...okay, we’ll look into it. Thanks.”

“Another water complaint?” Kristoff asked, once Andrew had hung up the phone.

“Yeah, something weird is going on today.”

“Probably a frozen pipe, like you said.”

They knocked on the door of the first guest on their list, and a woman answered. “Are you the maintenance guys?”

“We are ma’am. The front desk told us that your water pressure is low, do you mind if we come in and take a look?”

The woman shook her head. “I didn’t say low water pressure. I said no water pressure - as in, there’s no water, at all.”

The two men exchanged a worried glance before Andrew spoke up again. “Do you mind if we have a look?”

The woman didn’t answer, but stepped out of the way so they could walk into the room. They went into the bathroom, and attempted to turn the faucets to no avail. 

The woman was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “Well?”

“We’re trying to figure out what’s going on, ma’am. We’re going to check in with a few more guests and the front desk will get back to you.” 

“I’m taking my family skiing, and all I have to say is that the water better be working when I get back or someone will be getting an earful from me. I did not spend all of this money to wind up in a room with no water!”

They nodded in an attempt to placate her and as soon as they made it back into the hallway, she slammed the door in their faces. 

“God, I hate this place,” Kristoff muttered.

“I don’t understand how people on vacation can be so f*cking miserable. Management will make sure they get a more expensive room on the house if there’s nothing we can do about it, so I don’t really see the point of throwing a fit.”

“I know. It’s kind of disgusting how entitled some of these people are. I understand the frustration, but don’t yell at the people who are trying to figure out what the problem is.” Kristoff shook his head. “Let’s go to the next one.”

The routine seemed to repeat itself; the rooms were occupied by extremely angry guests who were experiencing a myriad of plumbing issues - either little or no water pressure, foul smelling water, or rust-colored water.

“Something big is going on here. Bigger than just a frozen pipe,” Andrew deduced, after visiting several guests’ rooms and being called a few more times by the front desk. “I can’t figure out what it is though.”

“Do you think a pipe burst somewhere?” he suggested.

Andrew shrugged. “I can’t imagine where. There are guests in basically every area of this hotel and no one has called about a leaking ceiling. Unless it was something in the basement.”

“We should go check.”

The two men scrambled to the basement, but as cold and neglected as it was, there were no signs of water damage anywhere. Just a lot of dust and noise from the systems that were housed down there.

“I’m stumped,” Andrew admitted, throwing his hands in the air.

“It has to be somewhere in the building. None of the other buildings or lodges have complained about issues with their water, right?”

The other man skimmed the list in his hands. “Nope, just this one.”

“Are there any places that guests and employees normally wouldn’t go during the day? The lobby’s fine, the children’s center is fine...wait, what about the ballroom?” Kristoff snapped his fingers.

“Oh sh*t, we should check the ballroom,” Andrew agreed. “No one goes in there unless they’re having some kind of an event.”

“I bet that’s where we’re going to find our problem.”

They raced back up to the first floor and passed the front desk to the corner of the hotel that housed the ballroom. Andrew searched through his massive ring of keys before locating the one that unlocked the doors. 

“Holy f*ck,” Kristoff gasped, his eyes widening at the site in front of him. 

The entire room was destroyed. The ceilings had caved as a result of the massive amount of water that had pooled from the burst pipe. Nearly everything in the room had been destroyed from either the water damage or from the impact of the broken pieces of ceiling landing on it. The walls were moist, and there was a considerable amount of water remaining on the floor. 

“How the hell did no one hear this?!” Andrew bellowed.

“This...is bad,” Kristoff said, shaking his head. “This is thousands of dollars worth of damage.”

“I need to get Bonnie on the phone,” Andrew said suddenly, walking away from the scene.

Kristoff continued to stare in the meantime; the room was significantly damaged. First and foremost, the pipes would have to be replaced - immediately. They were already going to be spending a large amount of money for the repairs, and they definitely couldn’t afford to lose the income that guests would bring in by occupying the rooms in that building. They’d have to drain the water that pooled on the floor, rip out the carpet and gut the walls, throw away all of the destroyed tables and chairs. 

When Andrew came back a few minutes later, he was not happy. “Bonnie is on her way and she’s having a cow.”

“Can you blame her? This is a nightmare.”

“I need to see if I can get any of the other guys in today. They’re going to be p*ssed.”

“I’m here and I’m p*ssed,” Kristoff scoffed. “I knew I should’ve called out today.”

“Good thing you didn’t because I would’ve had to haul your a*s in anyway.”

“Yeah, right. Zach calls out once a week and no one ever does anything about it. The rest of us are forced to pick up his slack all the time - if I called out once, it wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“Trust me, Zach isn’t going to be employed here for much longer.”

Bonnie finally arrived a moment later with a panicked look on her face and interrupted their conversation. “What the h*ll happened?”

“See for yourself, boss,” Andrew answered, motioning to the entrance to the ballroom.

Bonnie peered inside before staggering back and raising her hands to her face. “Oh my god.”

“The damage is severe, Bonnie. The repairs are going to be time-consuming, and you’ll have to postpone any events that they were planning on holding here,” Andrew spoke up. “Most importantly, the guests in this building have to be relocated until we can replace the pipes.”

Bonnie nodded, and for the first time that Kristoff had ever observed, she was totally speechless. In all his years of working around her, he’d never seen her so quiet.

“I’m working on getting my other guys in here,” Andrew continued. “This is not going to be an easy fix.”

“Alright,” she said, before pointing at Kristoff. “You go tell the front desk to start working on getting the guests out of this building and then come back here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes once his back was turned; this was not his job. He wasn’t an errand boy. But because he wasn’t trying to lose his job, he begrudgingly followed her instructions. Once he arrived in the lobby, approached the first person he saw at the front desk, a brunette woman with thick black eyeliner who he recognized from high school.

“Hey, you need to -”

She raised a finger, but didn’t look in his direction. “Hold on, I’m helping my guest.”

“This is important.”

“Sir, you should get in line.”

He glanced over at the line - which was long, because it was checkout time, of course - before interrupting again. “I have orders from Bonnie -”

That seemed to catch her attention. “Let me get my manager out here.” 

“Thanks.”

A few moments later, the manager appeared from a door behind the front desk. “How can I help you?”

“I work in maintenance,” Kristoff explained. “Bonnie needed me to tell you that guests can’t stay in this building for a couple of days. A pipe burst and there won’t be any water in most, if not all, of the rooms.”

The manager's eyes widened. “O-okay. What about the restrooms on this floor? Or the restaurants and the bakery?”

“We’re not sure what the situation is with those areas of the hotel.”

She nodded. “Okay, well keep me posted. There are a lot of places on this floor that require the use of water.”

“Has anyone called to complain from any of those places?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, we’ll keep our fingers crossed that they’re unaffected, but I’m sure Bonnie will be in touch soon.”

“Thank you.”

He gave her a slight nod before turning around and walking back towards the ballroom; for the first time that day, someone had actually been appreciative and not downright condescending about the situation. He was just glad that she didn’t rip him a new one like all of the guests had earlier. 

“Good, you’re back,” Bonnie said once he finally made it back to the ballroom.

“Any updates?”

“I just made contact with the people in the event planning office,” Bonnie explained. “They’re coming down now. I need you to wait out here for them, so you could tell them about the damage. The annual ball is in three months and this was their venue.”

“I should probably start clearing stuff out of there,” he insisted, hoping to remind her that he was not her personal secretary or a professional bearer of bad news. “We can’t start gutting it out until the water is drained and all of the damaged furniture is removed.”

“You need to stay right here,” Bonnie said snidely, placing a hand on his shoulder before walking away.

“Is she serious?” he wondered aloud, his mouth agape. He really was her errand boy, wasn’t he?

“Hey man, Scott and Dan are both on their way in now,” Andrew said, approaching from inside the ballroom. “Liam and Eli are outside doing snow removal. I’m trying to get in touch with a couple of the other guys, but some of them have to be in for the overnight shift. Management has to take pictures of the damage for insurance reasons before we can touch anything, but we should be able to start getting rid of the furniture later today.”

“I have to wait here and break the bad news to the event planners,” he responded bitterly. “Because I’m not the maintenance guy today, I’m her errand boy.”

Andrew shook his head. “She’s really pushing her luck. She should be the one to tell them since we warned her that the pipes would need to be replaced a long time ago and she brushed it off.”

“You know, I had a gut feeling that today would suck. Wish that I could’ve been wrong.” 

“Should’ve checked the calendar, man. It’s Friday the thirteenth.”

He scoffed. “I’m not superstitious.”

Andrew shrugged before taking a few steps backwards. “I’m just saying.”

As soon as Andrew’s back was turned, he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. It was quite the coincidence that this had all gone down on a day historically known for the bad luck it brought. He reminded himself that he didn’t believe in that stuff; this was a real life situation that had only happened because of sheer negligence from Bonnie and the other people who ran the hotel. If they had just listened from the start and had replaced the pipes when Andrew recommended they should, they wouldn’t even be in this mess. He didn’t necessarily believe in curses either, but at this point, he was convinced he’d done something wrong in life that warranted this misery. 

Until he spotted a gorgeous redhead he didn’t recognize being dragged in his direction by the half-a-head shorter lady he knew from around the hotel, and he was suddenly aware of a new sensation different from the misery and dread he was used to - a hopeful fluttering in the pit of his stomach.  

[dreamcatcherfication]

The Truest Kind of Love

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy oh boy. I’m extremely nervous about this. But... why not. This is an original work I wrote for one of my classes and it’s historical fiction, so since I have nothing to post, I thought why not give it a shot. It’s not a great story or anything, but I hope it’ll keep you all entertained! Formatting might be a little strange, but that’s what happens when you translate an entire short story onto tumblr. This is pretty much only for my followers since it’s original, but if you have no idea who I am and someone find this, I hope you enjoy my meager writing abilities!

This fic is set during the Spanish Inquisition, and I did a lot of research on the time period. There are a lot of plot holes that bother me if you really look into the history of everything, but some of them can’t be avoided when you erase an entire historical figure from history and replace her with someone else. But I won’t spoil anything, so please have this absolute trainwreck of a story.

(I’m not tagging anyone on my usual tag list because I figure this isn’t what any of you signed up for, and I won’t tag you unless you want me to!)

Trigger Warnings: Burning, Death, Anti-Semitism, implied abuse, references to torture

Queen Valencia and her husband, King Ferdinand II, were well known throughout Spain for being harsh and unforgiving rulers, the sort that would torture a man under suspicion of even the smallest of crimes. The two governed their people strictly and (although no one would speak this for fear of being killed) very cruelly. 

King Ferdinand was exhausting his time dealing with the Spanish Inquisition and the Jews that refused to accept the Catholic faith. Everyday, homes were burnt and heretics were tortured and killed for practicing their own faith. He had gotten so paranoid that the non-Catholics were to blame for the terrible plague sweeping the nation that even the Conversos, Jews who had converted to the Catholic religion, were suspected of treason to the crown.

No one in the Royal Court had ever said it aloud, but it was well known that the queen and king were not in love. They often disagreed on anything from trivial to political matters, creating a distinct rift in their relationship. King Ferdinand was a pious man who wished to keep flushing out the heretics while Queen Valencia sympathized with the Jews who were being forced to give up their religion. “You are a devout Catholic. What if the Jews were to make you practice their religion? Would you do to them as they would do to you?”

King Ferdinand would continue to look past her point and respond with, “They have already done it once before to our savior Jesus Christ, we cannot allow them to do it again. We must purge them before they can force their heresy unto us. It is for the best my wife.” Him being the king, she would huff and relent, going along with what he decreed.

Life in the palace was lavish and required many servants to attend to the queen. Her previous servant had been accused of heresy - unjustly - which required that a new personal servant be summoned for the Queen. Valencia was standing in front of her mirror in her private chambers dressed in her undergarments, waiting for her servant to arrive. The lady in waiting was already late, but Valencia had become a patient woman after having to deal with King Ferdinand on the daily. 

When the girl finally arrived she had her head down and mumbled softly, “I apologize for being late Your Majesty, the nobles asked me to fetch them fruit and I could not refuse. Please accept my humble apologies.” The servant girl kneeled down in front of Valencia and bent her head in what the queen supposed must have been a very uncomfortable position.

“Rise my dear girl, what shall I call you?” Valencia asked the girl.

Perking up, the girl rose and started to say, “Oh my name is -” but instead let out an unattractive screech as she tripped over the trail of her queen’s dress. She ended up sprawled on the floor glancing awkwardly up at the royal who was hiding a laugh behind her hand. 

It was at that moment when they made eye contact for the first time that Valencia knew this girl would be immensely important to her. 

***

“Alessandra!” Queen Valencia called from her spot at the side of the empty dining table. King Ferdinand was discussing more Inquisition plans with his advisors, leaving her to eat her feast alone. Still, it was proper etiquette to leave the head of the table open for the absent king. The servant girl hurried forward from where she had been waiting by a pillar for instruction. When she reached the queen’s side she straightened up with her hands dutifully behind her back. The queen turned to the other servants scattered throughout the room and ordered, “Leave us.” 

Without another word, the other servants filed out of the room and shut the intimidating wooden door behind them. Now, the only two people in the room were young Alessandra and the queen herself. “Sit with me please,” Valencia said gently. Instead of a typical order, it was a request, and a simple one at that.

Listening, the young girl sat next to her. “Is there anything you wish of me, Your Majesty?”

Grinning and rolling her eyes, Valencia let her posture relax as she leaned back against the chair. “Yes, I wish for you to stop referring to me as Your Majesty when we are in private. You see me undressed day after day, you know well and true that I am no heavenly deity. I am as human as you are flesh and bone.” 

The young girl anxiously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and giggled lightly. Alessandra was a short and petite girl complimented with a sweet face that made Valencia’s maternal instincts flare up whenever she was near her servant. “It is a pleasure to be able to work for someone as wonderful as you,” the small servant spoke almost reverently. Valencia’s heart clenched to know how much the girl looked up to her, unaware of the terrible things she was allowing King Ferdinand to do to her people. 

“Tell me dear, how did you get a job in the Royal Court?” Queen Valencia asked.

“Oh, well that’s an easy one!” Alessandra said gleefully. “See I’m not too bright, but my father is an old acquaintance of the king’s High Inquisitor - uhm… Inquisitor Lucero! Yes, him. And my mother was a servant before she died, so it only made sense for me to follow in her footsteps.” Valencia’s breathing hitched when she heard Alessandra’s words. Her mother was dead? Looking down at the bright-eyed servant, all Valencia could see was a lonely child seated before her. As a response, she tried to create a more approachable air around herself and slid her chair closer to the girl. If Alessandra didn’t have a mother, then Valencia would be damned if she didn’t at least help the girl feel safe and cared for.

“When the king was searching for your newest lady in waiting,” Alessandra continued, “my father offered my services. And now I have the honor of humbling myself before you everyday.”

“No no, you do not have to humble yourself dear girl, I’ve told you this,” Valencia corrected her. Her first step would have to be making sure Alessandra knew she was not obligated to bow down to Valencia in private. Nodding again, Alessandra silenced herself. Queen Valencia was angered with Alessandra’s father for essentially auctioning his daughter off without the poor girl knowing any better. But another, smaller part of her whispered that she was glad that Alessandra was her servant, for it allowed her to have these small moments that she treasured so dearly with the young girl.

And so she spoke nothing to the king of the way he selected servants for his wife.

***

Alessandra was loyal if nothing else, and she cared greatly for Queen Valencia. She was willing to do anything for her queen, even give up her own life if her queen so desired. It scared Valencia to know how deep the girl’s blind devotion ran, but her selfishness kept her from saying anything. The queen had been unable to give Ferdinand an heir, but the king was more concerned with political matters to focus on his wife’s infertility at the time. Valencia’s servant gave her the opportunity to care for a young girl as a mother would her child.

And though she had never told Ferdinand, Valencia was glad she could not produce his heir. She refused to let him infect her son or daughter with his views of the Jewish people, of even the most loyal Conversos. Her people.

Valencia hated to think that she lied during her daily prayers with Ferdinand. But her truth was that she did in fact lie when a priest would bless her and say that she was faithful to their God. Every night Valencia would return to her private chambers and dismiss Alessandra before pulling out her Torah and praying to her God. Hiding herself from the king and her country held a tax on her very soul and being every passing day. But Valencia’s faith was more important to her than anything, and if she had to repent every night for lying, she would. 

As any one night, she found herself praying as normal, asking God for forgiveness at deceiving her husband. That she was trying to follow His word while keeping His religion alive. Kneeling beneath her mirror, Valencia was muttering holy prayers and pleading to her God. “Oh Lord Almighty, send me a diamond to cut through all the dirt my husband has heaped upon your holy word.”

As if God could hear her, Valencia’s door opened at that moment as her young servant girl walked in. “Queen Valencia, I’ve come to - oh!” Alessandra gasped in surprise at seeing her queen kneeling on the floor with Jewish scrolls spread in front of her. “Is that - oh my -” the servant girl gasped in surprise. “I should go and inform-”

Standing up in a hurry, Valencia shouted, “No!” Freezing in place, Alessandra waited for another instruction from her queen. She knew it was the king’s order to report anyone following a non-Catholic religion, but her loyalty to the queen outweighed any order the king could ever give. “Alessandra, please forget what you have seen here,” Queen Valencia attempted to cover her tracks. She trusted her servant, but the reality of being discovered was something she had feared her entire life.

“My queen, I will not report you if that is what you fear. It is my job to serve you, and if that means allowing you to follow your own religion, that is what I shall do,” Alessandra said obediently. Looking at her servant with surprise, Valencia found herself unconsciously relieved.

The older woman held her arms out and waited for the child to take the hint. After a moment of confused staring, Alessandra realized what Valencia was meaning for her to do, and she threw herself into her queen’s open arms. They sat together far into the night, the young girl wrapped in the protective arms of the queen. She rested her head against Valencia’s bosom, listening to her light breathing. It was a feeling she had missed ever since her mother had died, the safety and comfort of another, truly caring person in her life. She wouldn’t dare think it, but Alessandra looked up to Valencia as more than just her queen, and that was dangerous. The young lady in waiting couldn’t bring herself to worry about any possible repercussions while being held by Valencia.

Unawares to Alessandra, Valencia was having her own thoughts. Without children, she couldn’t release the pent up maternal instinct ingrained deep in her very being. But having Alessandra by her side made Valencia’s heart feel as if the strongest rope was ripping it in half. In that moment, it felt like the two of them were meant to be together, as if fate itself had twisted time and space so that they could meet. If it were not for status, the queen feared she would never release Alessandra from her arms. The thought of having to let the girl go was something Valencia refused to entertain. The mere notion was enough to cause her more agony than what her heart already inflicted upon her. With such a large gap in social class, it was unusual for royals to have such a close relationship with their servants, but Valencia couldn’t help but feel the intense need to protect Alessandra.

She could not predict how strong this need would be in her servant.

***

“It’s alright, I’d rather me than you, Valencia,” Alessandra assured whilst two guards held her arms tightly behind her back.

The guard on her left smacked her harshly over the head. “You shall refer to her as Your Majesty or My Queen, heretic.”

Shaking her head softly in pain, Alessandra returned her attention to Valencia. Even as the guards were leading her to the dungeons where she would be held before her execution, she still had a smile on her face. Valencia was distraught at seeing the girl she cared so much for in the hands of the king’s soldiers. The men had been searching the palace when they found her beloved Torah hidden within her bedchambers. The moment Alessandra got word that the king suspected the queen of heresy, she claimed that she was the heretic and claimed the scrolls as her own.

A chill tickled its way through Valencia’s bones, knowing of how the king must have immediately sentenced the young child to death by fire simply because he believed she was of another religion. And as much as Valencia wished she could take Alessandra’s place, she knew it would do no good to admit the truth. The girl would still be executed and so would she, ruining Alessandra’s sacrifice. 

The young girl was led to a dungeon cell and tossed in by the guards. They locked the door and left her alone until they were to come to retrieve her for her execution the next day. Following the guards down, Valencia stood outside the cell door and glanced down at the child she had grown close to. “Why?” she asked quietly.

Alessandra shrugged with her infuriating smile still plastered on her face. “I could not let them hurt you Valencia. Besides, you can get another servant.”

Valencia laughed humorlessly and ruefully banged a fist against the bars of the cell. “I could never replace you Alessandra.” 

“I’ll miss you,” Alessandra said simply.

“You know I love you,” the older woman admitted quietly, as if it was taboo.

“I love you too.”

***

Queen Valencia was forced to stand next to her husband as her servant was tied to a stake in the center of the palace courtyard. King Ferdinand stood regal and tall, observing the work of his executioners, noting which ones worked quicker and those slower than the rest. He didn’t pay a second glance to the girl being strung up, more concerned with the efficiency of his men as they prepared for the execution. In some sick sense of mercy there would be no drawn out torture, only the girl’s sentence of death by fire.

The servant girl did not resist the tight grips of the men who spit at her as they lead her to her death. It confused the inquisitors when she only smiled, barely glancing at their hateful faces. Instead, her attention was directed to the woman standing on the balcony of the palace above her. The queen was struggling to make eye contact with the servant. Her head was far too heavy to lift and face the small girl and her innocent doe eyes.

Even as the men finished tying her to the stake, Alessandra paid no mind to her rapidly approaching death. She kept grinning fondly at the woman she had grown to love in her time at the palace. She didn’t feel an ounce of regret dying for Valencia.

King Ferdinand wrapped an arm around his wife, but she refused to acknowledge it. Valencia lifted her head, finally willing to make eye contact with Alessandra. It was like a hot poker to the heart, being reminded of why she cared so much for this girl. She knew she would grow to care for her servant the first time she had seen the girl’s eyes. Only now, looking into those eyes for the last time did Valencia truly understand the extent of her love for this girl.

Alessandra was the child she did not have, stronger than blood could carry. It didn’t matter that the girl was of another breed, it mattered how she gave Valencia a reason to move through everyday as she lived a life of lying to those around her. And if God would grant her one wish, she would wish to be able to embrace Alessandra one last time before they were forced to part ways.

One of the inquisitors took a torch and held it to the straw spread around the bottom of the stake. The young girl only shook her head and tried to smile reassuringly when a tear slid down the older woman’s face. Alessandra mouthed something from below that Valencia could not make out, no matter how hard she tried to decipher what the girl had said. She watched as the flames grew higher and Alessandra’s smile started to disappear, replaced with coughing and wails of pain. Valencia closed her eyes tight and turned away from the fire, too distraught to watch the execution.

But she listened as her daughter burned.

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

Tag List:

@theatergirl06 @sweetestrequiems

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Happy Together : 12

Amor condusse noi ad una morte.

Character(s): (deceptively) dark!Steve

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. It goes without (and with) saying that this is 18+.

Series Synopsis: The reader is stood up while awaiting a blind date, instead finding herself keeping company with the restaurant’s famous owner; Steve Rogers. After that night, she tries to forget her humiliation but she just can’t shake one thing about that night: him.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: The reader finds herself back where she started.

Notes: Well, this chapter gets a bit dark; a bit intense, but we get a little peek into Steve’s delusions and more of his fragile temperament. I hope you all enjoy this. And please, brace yourself for this chapter. I don’t wanna spoil it but it’s creeping up on the dark.

Thanks to everyone who reads and as always, I looked forward to hearing from you in the replies/reblogs/tags/asks. <3

- 

Cuffed. Caged. Caught by Steve Rogers. The room seemed to shrink as he he entered. You looked to the officers on either side of him. Why were you the one in custody? Interrogated? Your heart raced as you realized your dire mistake. You should have known. Had trusting the man before you not taught you anything? There was nothing, no one in this world you could depend on.

"I apologize for my fiance's behaviour." He turned and shook Gowon's hand, then the other officer's. Her badge read Dawson. You scowled and pressed yourself against the table. "With your permission, I'd like a moment alone…" He lowered his voice but you could hear him still. He wanted you to. "She's stressed. She just needs some comfort, you know?"

"Of course, Mr. Rogers," Dawson was more than happy to agree and Golon gave a sympathetic look. 

The former saviour of New York and defender of humanity still wore his mantle of charity. Why look at him; he loved a madwoman. Tore himself away from his work just to bail her out. You were speechless. What could you say? What was your word against his?

You chewed the inside of your lip as the officers left you alone with your personal villain. Delivered you into the hands of the man you had sought refuge from. The door closed, a loud click sealed your fate. His smile slowly faded. His jaw squared and he rolled his shoulders. His cheek twitched and he stepped toward you. You flinched and he put on a show of softening his movements. You stared up at him defiantly as your teeth gnashed. You couldn't let him know how afraid you truly were.

"It's okay, honey, come on and sit." He turned you back to the metal chair and pushed you down by your shoulder. He took the chair across from you and pulled it around to sit next to you. He draped his arm over your shoulder. From the window, he would seem doting; protective even. "You know people are real worried about you."

He fumbled around in his jacket pocket. He pulled out a familiar item. Your phone still wore its holographic shell. He unlocked it and held it before you face. Your Facebook was open; your timeline active despite your forced disconnection. He slowly began to scroll through the well wishes. Talia, several friends you hadn't talked to since college, your mother even. Mixed in were a dozen congratulations until finally he paused at a photo you had never seen. A photo you had never taken and yet there you were, smiling happily beside Steve Rogers; a perfectly blissful couple. Below was a message written in your voice but not by you.

‘To all my friends and family, I must apologize. For the last year I have been distant; standoffish. I could blame it on work or other everyday obligations but I think it better that I come clean. 

One year ago, I met Steve and the connection was instant. We fell in love entirely and were selfish as we dove head deep into each other. It's gone fast but we can't wait any longer to announce it. We're engaged!

To you all, I thank you for standing by me. It had been a very big secret to keep and I have found planning the whole affair very stressful. That being said, I will be stepping back from my work and online to focus on keeping myself healthy as Steve and I put this all together. 

We will announce the date soon and invitations will follow!’

"What did you do?" You recoiled in disgust; disbelief. With your arms bound, you nearly fell right of his grasp. "You're insane!"

He visibly bristled. He blinked and raised the phone once more. He opened up your texts and thumbed through them. "You're mother sends her regards. She was rather upset that you didn't tell her sooner but I cleared all that up."

Your eyes widened as his veneer of calm barely withheld the anger beneath. "Do it," You challenged in a hiss. "I can tell you want to. You want to spank me again, don't you? Hmm? You can't control yourself can you." 

You sneered at him, waiting for him to snap. Hoping. If he bent you over and smacked your right here, surely the police would never let him take you. The tic in his jaw flared and his arm tightened around you. He leaned in so that his lips were right beside your ear.

"You're in big fucking trouble." His whisper made you shiver. He leaned back and reached up to touch your hair as he raised his voice. "It's okay, sweetheart. Let's just get you home and safe. We can push the wedding back."

He rubbed your back as he stood and crossed to the door. He knocked and Dawson reappeared. 

"I hope she didn't trouble you guys too much. I know you work hard out there. I'm real sorry, she's stressed… she's sick. If it's permissible, I'd like to just take her home. I don't think another trip to the hospital is necessary."

He was lying through his teeth and he was oh so good at it. You hung your head in defeat as you listened to his elaborate fabrication. He had imagined a whole life with you and even printed receipts. You were fucked. 

"Of course, Mr. Rogers. You've done this city an amazing service," Dawson preened, "We only wish you were still out there with us."

"When the time comes you just know. Can't be an Avenger and a husband." He said humbly, "Not a good one at least."

"You can take her." Dawson said softly. "Really, we understand. No harm, no foul."

You felt a tug at your wrists and the cuffs were freed with a twist of the key. Steve was once more at your side as he helped you to your feet. You shot him vilest look you could muster.

"Take care of yourself, dear," Her tone was laced with sickly honey. You kept your jaw set and ignored her as Steve ushered you past.

His arm went around your back as he marched you through the station. You felt as if every eye was watching you. Each person a witness to your betrayal. You were tense against him as you stepped out into the sunlight. If not for the situation, you would've basked in it. 

How long had it been since you had felt natural warmth? Why had you not enjoyed it earlier? Why had you been such an idiot?

He led you to a car in the enclosed garage attached to the station and opened the door. You drew away from him and he caught your wrist. "Get in." He growled. You twisted your wrist and he tightened his grip. "I won't hesitate to put you in the trunk. So get in. Now!"

"I hate you." You snarled. "I hate you." You brought your fist up and it bounced of the bottom of his jaw. "Let me go!" 

His winced just slightly and grabbed your other wrist. He raised them over your head and released them. He bent and scooped you up. He draped you over his shoulder. He held you with one arm and reached into his pocket, the doors and trunk clicked. He rounded the back of the car and opened the trunk. He dropped you inside, your head barely missing the metal. 

He snapped closed the lid and you beat against it desperately. You heard his footsteps and the door; you felt his strength as he slammed it shut. The engine kick-started and you clawed at the interior until your hands stilled in futility.

You dropped your head, squished into the tight box. You grunted in frustration and your eyes burned. This couldn't be happening. You had gotten out. You'd gone to the police. You had felt freedom on your lungs. All this and you were to be dragged back to where your started.

-

When the trunk opened, you kicked out only to have your foot caught. You were torn from the car as Steve seethed. His hot breath surrounded you as he forced you across the tarmac. You struggled, heels scraped on the pavement as you neared the knobless door. You tried to keep yourself from within as you kicked your legs out but missed the doorframe. He shoved you through and you barely caught yourself from falling down the stairs as he released you. 

As the door closed with a deafening clang, you were snatched off your feet. Steve had you over his shoulder once more. Your stomach leaned heavily against his shoulder as he descended. You reached for the railing, the walls, but your fingers slid over them helplessly. The door at the bottom was open still, the knob on the floor. He had not yet been home.

He carried you through the hall and into the dining room. He grumbled as he passed through the kitchen and saw the disjointed window. He entered the bedroom and slammed the door with only his foot. He dropped you onto the bed and you bounced so violently you bit your tongue. Before you could rise, he was on top of you. You batted at him with your hands but he seemed not to notice your struggles.

He grabbed the front of your dress and tore it open, the buttons flying across the room in all directions. “Get off!” You grunted as you tried to stop his hands. His eyes were dark; endless. He straddled you so that you couldn’t move, his breath hot and heavy as he pulled your dress down your arms. When it was at your waist, your hands were trapped in the fabric as his began to explore your bare stomach. “Steve! Stop!”

His hands settled on your breasts and he kneaded them roughly. He tweaked your nipples through the seamed brassiere and ground his pelvis against you. He groaned, a shiver rose through him as the bulge in his pants grew. You whimpered as helplessness weighed you down and lifted your head. You dropped it heavily with a sigh. His hands stilled just beneath your neck and he stared down at you with seething breaths.

“Stay!” He pointed at you, his finger almost touching your nose. His other hand pressed against your throat and threatened to squeeze. “Don’t move, honey.”

As he climbed off, you realized how terribly you were shaking. Your entire body trembled and you couldn’t have moved if you tried. You had never been so entirely terrified. The door opened and he wasn’t gone more than a minute. You looked up just as he returned and he held a large black chest. He set it down on the plush love seat and opened it. He pulled straps from within and your blood surged.

You sat up and untangled your hands from the dress. As he neared, you  rolled across the bed. You knew exactly what he meant to do. You didn’t make it to the door as he blocked you from it with his broad figure. He reached behind him and slammed it again. He walked towards you wordlessly until you were forced to retreat and the back of your knees hit the bed. You fell onto it once more and he grabbed your ankles.

He flipped you easily, your body twisting painfully as you tried to resist. He wrapped a strap around your left ankle and secured it to the bedpost. Next he tied your right, then your wrists. He reached under you and ripped open the rest of your dress. He bunch it up and let it fall to the floor as he stepped back, admiring your form spread-eagle and face down on the bed.

You turned your head as he returned to the chest and reached within once more. He revealed a leather whip and you cursed. He slapped it across his palm as he faced you. 

“I told you, there will be punishment for misbehaviour,” He growled. He rolled your panties down around your thighs as far as they would go. He rested the leather against your ass. “Now, you will take it and learn to be a good wife. And after, you can think on your lesson.”

He lifted the whip and it came down with a poisonous bite. You yelped and the tears rose instantaneously. He repeated the action, again and again. You couldn’t have kept count if you had tried. You sobbed into the bedspread as you gripped the straps that restrained you. He stopped as your ass and thighs were raw. You were certain there was blood too.

You heard the whip fall to the floor. You opened your eyes and watched as he unzipped his pants. He pulled out his cock and began to stroke. You closed your eyes, the sounds of his self-pleasure rising in groans. The bed slouched beneath him as he knelt on the mattress beside you, his cum spilled onto your ass and you turned your face to the bed.

His large hand rubbed his cum into your tortured flesh and he purred. He pulled your panties up over your damp skin and patted your ass. He untied you, your limbs falling limp against the bed. He moved your body for you. He dragged you across the bed and stood you up. You swayed as a sear went through your ass and legs. He supported you with one arm as he angled you around the room.

He grabbed the back of the sofa and pushed it aside so that it faced the bathroom door. He kicked the rug away with his foot and bent to lift the concealed hatch in the wooden floorboards. You began to panic as he guided you down the stairs ahead of him. A small room was hidden beneath with shadowy forms; a narrow bed, a sink, a small toilet. A cell worse than that at the station.

“Go, or I’ll let you fall,” He snapped. You looked at him in shock. “Go on, dear.” All his false affection, his delusional love, had gone.

You peered back down into the secret room and he let you go. You barely kept yourself from slipping down the stairs. You descended a step at a time and looked back up at him as you reached the bottom. He frowned and shook his head.

“You did this to yourself,” He said as he closed the hatch and all went black around you. 

The locked clicked and you heard his footsteps as he walked away. You held onto the steps and slowly sank to your knees. You screamed until it caught in your throat and hung your head. You wept until your head pounded and your chest knotted. 

What had you done?

+

tags:  @areubeingserved @primordialhandmaidan @brigidwolf @heyiamthatbitch @ruff-m3rc @alexakeyloveloki @infernalbarnes @lanabanana-86 @sathlens @jessieray98 @lilithhellfire @kellyn1604 @ahideousthinginside @ironlady1993 @kloe-iel @grayxswan @iheartsebastianstan @myboyfriendgiriboy @tanelle83 @patzammit @phoenix21love @they-call-me-le @spaghettirogers @buckycaptspideypool @bethanyzed @biasedtitties @bbyspiiice @thoughtlesstales @glitterypinkkitty @selinbaskaya @vitamingrant @dil-emmuh @metalarmlover @queenoftheunderdark @lilly-evans-and-the-kpop @captainfreecandyvan @collette04 @yagurlrosie @blackpantherimagines @kweenkxtrina @heavenlyblyss @secretlyactivated @roses-and-absinthe @xxxelettaxxx @rainbowkisses31 @celestiial-angel @alphabloodfur @xdatbitch @quant-um-fizzx @peaceloveyesh @bodhi-black @captainarp @booklover240 @kawaiiloverofanimu @everything-is-awesomesauce @holylulusworld @lemonnggrab @kiwihoee @aekr @twizzziee @karabear0091 @marvelmaree @amelia-acero @marveltookovermylife @praziameia @steadypetty @spn-marvel-nerd @kissedbythedarkness @broadway-or-noway @marvel-fan23 @hannahxem @noteyebox @bemyvalentineforeverandever @amazonian-strap-queen @britishpopsicle @breezy1415  @beautiful-and-strange  @momc95 @buckycaptspideypool @justballoonfishthings @ms-munchkin @whosmarisaaarw @kxllyxnnx @calspixie @imdiegohargreeves @satinprincessxo @amethyst-the-thot @docharleythegeekqueen @iiqueer-vibesii @carol-damn-vers @l0rd-disick @jilldsumner @hufflebucky @nerdypinupcrystal @pink1031 @agent-spidey @wassupbitchesssss @lucifersnipnips @thirstyforsomeyandere @xxm3xxj @stuckybarton @heartbeats-wildly @tea-with-seb @the-lululemon @abesottedlass @poppyshawn @obsesseds-world @jazztherebel  @heartislubbingdubbing @couldntbedamned @desir-ae @adreamemporium @ashrod98 @buckyxwintersxldier @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lazinessisalliknow @kastheabsolutepessimist @daggersofloki @odinson-barnes @wintersoldier1017 @fandomkolors @supernaturaldean67 @biba3434 @brokensunflowersworld @basementcafe @imkloeyjarvis @periodtcevans @praziameia @givemoimyuwusback @thethortoisein221b @averyrogers83 @sagechanoafterdark @roseplusess @hollandhours

[mycupoffanfiction]

His Second Chance Part 17

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: Soft fairly non descriptive smut (first 3 paragraphs), fluff, sadness.

Word count: 2500

Bucky and the Reader explore their options seperately, Reader starts to feel overwhelmed.

ALL TAG LISTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN 💖 feel free to come and chat, my blog is always open for you 💕

If your tag is crossed out, I haven’t been able to tag you. 

_______________________________

Soft. So soft.

Gentle sunrays pushing through the curtains, the quiet hum of traffic in the distance, the odd faint order here and there shouted by Steve as he trained the recruits in the early morning outside. Sheets beneath your fingers, bunched tightly in your hands, a soft mewl escaping your lips, back arching slightly as you let out a shaky breath. “Bucky.” You whined. “I’ve got you.” He hummed against your core, the vibration sending a warm feeling through you as you drew closer to your orgasm. “Let go for me.” Bucky whispered and just like that, with a few more flicks of his soft tongue, you were a trembling mess. Whining out and moaning, no regard for whether Sam could hear you or not as Bucky worked you through your orgasm. He tried to keep you going for a second one, but you gently nudged him away.

 A proud smirk played on Bucky’s lips as he knelt over you, lining himself up. “Love makin’ you feel good.” Bucky whispered, coming down to kiss you, lips pressing softly against yours, an almost erotic groan coming from deep in his chest as he slowly nudged into you, gently thrusting until he was confident his harder movements wouldn’t cause discomfort.

 Grunts, heavy breaths, skin against skin. Soft touches and sweet kisses trailing over your cheek and neck. Hot breath against his skin, your delicate lips against his shoulder, his beard rough against your cheek, but so, so good. A soft moan met with a gruff huff of a breath. Hushed I love you’s and gentle praises as you both drew close to your climaxes, Bucky holding himself back so you could have your release before his. Another snap of his hips and you tumbled over with a sharp gasp, a moan and Bucky’s name on your lips. Bucky followed after you, a few grunts and a drawn out moan. Eyes on yours, full of love, full of adoration like you were the only two people in the world.

 Your face was pressed against Bucky’s bare chest as you both caught your breath. Your arm draped over his middle, fingers tracing lazy circles and swirly patterns over his chest. Sex was a safe haven for Bucky, so intimate, so loving that the voices in his head all but disappeared. They had no power in his mind when he was enjoying acts of love with you and it gave him all the more reason to worship you the way he so desperately wanted to and take his time.

 Words weren’t even needed to share the feelings of love between the two of you. Bucky was so in tune with you, with your mind and your body. You both knew how you felt, even if no words came or the words you spoke while you were tipped over the edge of euphoria made no sense at all, it was love. It was all love.

 Bucky could get used to this life. Waking up to you every morning, making food together, baking cakes and pastries, playing videogames and reading together. Bucky could get used to all of it, in fact, he was getting used to it. But soon he’d have to introduce a new part of his life when he was only just getting used to real life again.

 Domestic life or back to the field again? Bucky pondered, stretched out lazily on the sofa in his fitted sweats and a black t-shirt. It’s one direction and then the other, something happens to continuously tug Bucky to the opposite path. Why was this so hard? Why did it need to be so hard to just make a decision? It felt near impossible.

 You have to fight. It’s your duty to pay back what the Winter Soldier did.

No. You weren’t him, you don’t owe anything, it’s okay to want something else.

Bucky scrolled through listings on his laptop. Cats. When did he become so obsessed with cats? He’d never cared much for them back in the day but- oh just look at this one, so fluffy. Bucky was absolutely sure he needed at least one. If not five.

 Perhaps he would fight for a while, see where it lead him. Perhaps he just needed to do it, serve his self-given time until he felt he’d had enough, he’d done enough and he’d retire. Maybe the idea of a bakery or a café was just a silly fantasy. Adopting a small herd of cats was a silly fantasy, who was he kidding? No one would let him have little creatures roaming around the tower. Perhaps a normal life just wasn’t within his reach.

Perhaps you’re just not allowed a normal life, Barnes. Bucky sighed. I can hope.

 Bucky longed for a life in New York. Quiet, peaceful, the only stress being simple things like loading the dishwasher and paying the bills on time. He dreamed of a Brooklyn apartment, one with a feature brick wall and exposed pipes he’d paint with beautiful colours. A life where he could wake up and see your pretty face and look forward to a day full of spending time with you. He longed to look after another life, not a child – he wasn’t ready for that and perhaps you didn’t even want one, but a cat. Five cats. That was his dream. He imagined himself laying on the floor, a little cat pawing at his beard and long brown hair, sweet little mews for attention causing Bucky to grin and chuckle. A weight on his chest, you as you snuggled up to him giggling at nothing in particular. Carefree.

I can hope.

 A sigh left your lips as you sat rigid on your bed, staring at your TV. “Crowds of angry protesters took to the streets outside of a therapy centre yesterday afternoon when Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes was rumoured to be taking an assessment to work alongside the Avengers.” The news host reported. “That man is dangerous, letting him into the Avengers is a terrible-.” An angry protester was cut off as Steve stood in your doorway, TV remote in hand, the screen going black.

 “Thought we made this a rule after what happened with Wanda.” Steve said softly as he padded across your room to sit beside you. “No watching the news after something bad happens.” The bed dipped slightly as he sat down next to you. “And that was something bad, sweetheart.” His fingers gently brushed over the cut on your forehead. “I hate it, Stevie.” You sniffled. “I hate what’s happening, these people don’t see Bucky, all they see is the Winter Soldier.” You leaned against his shoulder, trying hard to hold back your tears.

 “They don’t see him like we do, but that’s why we have to keep going, show them that he’s not a threat and he’s here to help.” Steve spoke just above a whisper as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you tightly. “I know it’s hard, I know.” He whispered. “He’s got us though, he’s got you. We’ll help him through it.” Steve assured you as you squeezed him around the middle, finally letting your tears roll down your cheeks. “Hey, no, you’re not supposed to cry, sweetheart.” Steve hushed you, gently wiping away a tear with his fingers.

 Bucky walked into your room, heart stopping as he saw you and Steve cuddled up on the bed, tears rolling down your cheeks as you clung to Steve’s light grey shirt. Steve gently shushed you, his big arms around you trying desperately to comfort you. Bucky’s eyes met Steve’s and they shared a look, Steve giving him a tight lipped smile before turning his attention back to you, his hand gently smoothing over your hair. Wonder what’s caused my girl to cry, maybe I did something wrong. Oh god, did I do something wrong? Did I hurt her this morning?

 A second dip in the bed on your other side alerted you of Bucky’s presence. Arms winding around you, sandwiched between two super soldiers. Never had you felt so safe and comforted in your life. Steve had pulled you from that miserable time in your life, gave you a second chance. And then Bucky came along, broken and lost and you did the same for him that Steve had for you. A second chance.

 But was this it? Was fighting again a second chance or was it a poor attempt to be Bucky’s old definition of normal? All he’d known since the war was fighting, death and destruction. It might be for the innocent, being an Avenger might be for the greater good, but the goodness of it was just a guise for the fight hidden beneath it. The same grizzly details. There would always be tough consequences. There would always be a fight, injury and pain.

There would always be death.

It was still a fight, it didn’t matter who it was for, who it was to protect. It was still a fight and neither of you were sure that it was what you wanted. Was it okay to not want it?

Yes, because you both deserved to be happy, both deserved to do what you wanted.

No, because you felt like you owed something. You to the Avengers for taking you in and saving you, showing you a better life and Bucky felt he owed the whole damn world a piece of him and even then he wasn’t sure that was enough to pay back what he’d been made to do.

 Inner conflict knitted your brows together, tears falling and soaking into Steve shirt. A third set of arms, warm, soft, gentle. Sam. What on earth had you done to deserve such a caring family? A trio of soldiers who took care of you, who loved you in different ways.

 You hadn’t wanted this. Once you had been a normal girl with your whole life ahead of you. Normal was a strange thing, ultimately it was subjective. Normal for you had been a regular teenager, school, friends, a slightly unstable homelife. And then you were thrust into the rabbit hole of Hydra. Your mother had taken away the last vestiges of what normal had been to you and twisted it into something else. Normal became painful, terrifying, abusive. And then it became calm, and quiet and full of love when Steve found you, when he walked into your shitty basement and scared the fuck out of you in the middle of the night.

 But now normal was different. Sure this wasn’t what you had seen for yourself when someone asked you ‘where do you see yourself in ten years?’ But despite it being utterly insane, so insane that you were Captain America and The Falcon’s honorary sister and Sergeant Barnes’ girl, but it was your life now and you full heartedly embraced what you had.

 Maybe it was worth the fight.

 “Can you stop?” Sam huffed, removing another photo of a random cat from the front of the fridge and putting it in a pile of other printed cat photos. “I’m trying to introduce the idea of having cats around by putting photos up.” Bucky said matter-of-factly as he prepared a nice hot cup of coffee for you after you’d finally calmed down. “I think you’re just doing it to piss me off.” Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes. Bucky was about to continue when he saw you slip outside onto the balcony.

 Bucky shared a look with Sam before moving across to the balcony with your coffee and grabbed his hoodie on the way out for you. “Hey pretty girl.” Bucky spoke softly as he walked out onto the balcony, placing your coffee down on the little side table next to where you sat. “Hey Sarge.” You sighed, breathing in the lovely coffee smell before Bucky move to drape his hoodie around your shoulders.

 “What’s going on, darlin’? Talk to me.” Bucky’s gaze fixed on yours as he lowered himself onto the small bench next to you. You let out a long, shaky sigh and closed your eyes. Looking out over the city skyline, you took a few deep breaths, taking a moment to compose yourself and have a sip of coffee. “I’m too soft for this Buck.” You finally spoke. “It’s been over a year since I found out I could use fire and it’s no where near controllable. Just last week I nearly burnt Steve’s arm to a crisp and I can’t calm down when I’m in that state until all my energy is spent and I pass out.” You huffed. “I have to fight, if I don’t then I have to leave and if I leave, I lose the Avengers. My only family.” You closed your eyes, shaking your head. “I can’t lose that.”

“You don’t have to.” Bucky rested his hand on your knee. “Don’t have to fight, don’t have to leave either.” He reassured. “Bucky, those people protesting yesterday- I couldn’t even handle that. Everything is overwhelming, I wasn’t meant for this.” You avoided eye contact. I wasn’t meant for this. Oh pretty girl, you and me both. “It’s too much, Bucky.” You leant against him, his arm coming around to embrace you and hold you close. So warm and comforting. So protective.

 “You don’t have to do this alone, doll. We’re in this together. You duck out, I duck out too. You move forwards, I move forwards too.” Bucky whispered into your hair. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You looked up at him, eyes meeting, a pained expression on your face. “You’re not asking, I’m doing it of my own free will.” Bucky spoke softly. “You’re not alone anymore. You’ve got me, Steve and Sam. Those two love you so much, you have no idea how protective they get of you when we’re talking. Even if you stopped fighting and we left the Avengers, they’d never leave us, never leave you. They couldn’t do that.” Bucky pressed a little kiss to your temple while you took a moment to think.

 “Darlin’, when I got here you gave me a piece of advice, you said you always have a choice. You can always say no and you can always back out. So can you, doll.” Bucky lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “I know it isn’t black and white and you can’t make a decision on the spot, just know that whatever you want to do, I’ll do it with you.” Bucky concluded, sitting back against the bench cushions and taking in a deep breath of the crisp autumnal air. You leaned into him, taking a long sip of your coffee. “Thank you, Bucky.” Your lips curved upwards in a gentle smile.

That’s my girl, my sweet girl.

___________________________

Permanent Taglist:

@shygirl-00 @swanlakemikey @scuzmunkie @paintballkid711 @lovelylilia @mapreza1 @love-bucky-3000 @cals-cigarette @scarlett-berserker @2407zzz @mercurybarnes @mywinterwolf @geeksareunique @fairislesheets @wendaiii @mochibarnes @dykevindyke @anyasthoughts @miamua-posts

His Second Chance Taglist:

@socialheartbreak @whatsupbucky @yesno18 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @crystallstaircase @megantje123 @fantua @lady-x-red @buckys-islandgirl @chipilerendi @butteryoptimisticpeanut @blondecity @dark-night-sky-99 @marvel-ous-bucky @rand0mfangurlstuff @tfandtws @books-baritones-bucky @bluerorjhan @calwitch @hello-keeley @vrgelivvvv @vipersluntatic @carol-twinklefists-danvers @stitchers-in-stitches @hungry-pasta @lauraxwndrlnd @supercleverbouquetsoul @isaaclaheygurl @torntaltos @jhangelface0523 @love-on-the-murder-scene

[unculturedmamoswine]

AoS McKirk Recs

At the request of @fireinmywoods​ I’m finally getting around to making a McKirk rec post, which I’ve been wanting to do for a while. All these fics are McKirk endgame. This isn’t organized in any way whatsoever, and is also not a comprehensive list. I mostly just scrolled through my bookmarks and picked the things that weren’t outright porn. I always wish reccers would include their own notes along with the author’s summaries so... I did that. Hope y’all don’t mind. I’ll try not to be too spoilery, but I think it’s valuable to see what other fans like about a fic. Also, always heed the author’s notes, warnings, and tags. Definitely check out other fics by these authors, because I’m mostly not reccing a bunch by each person in order to keep this post slightly less long. And please consider leaving comments on the fics!

The palimpsest verse by fireinmywoods (series is 100k words)

Author’s summary (of the first fic in the series): “Skip to the point, Jim. The sooner you spit it out, the sooner I can refuse and get back to work.” “It’s really no big deal,” Jim says as the door slides closed behind them. “I just need you to come down to Hearth with us…as my husband.” The Enterprise has been sent to negotiate reaccession to the Federation with an isolationist religious group known as the Kindred. While there, Jim notices that some of the children seem to be gravely ill. The problem is, the Kindred practice faith healing and refuse to allow a doctor to be brought in. So Jim does what he does best: he improvises.

Gotta start with the gal whose fault this list is! When I read the first fic in this verse I was really at a low point in my McKirk obsession. This fic really brought me back into the fold in a big way. The whole series is just very very full of love. I ALMOST read one of the sequels first but thank god I heeded Em’s warnings to read palimpsest before reading the other fics. Seriously. You need to go into the thing unspoiled. Anyhow, if you want Jim and Bones way way super in love, for sure read this fic.(And listen, if you don’t want to read it because you hate fake marriage please read it anyway. I dislike fake marriage and I read it and loved it. Give it a shot, I beg you.)

Manhattan (Weeks Gone By) by blcwriter (8k words)

Author’s Summary: For the jim_and_bones St. Patrick’s Day challenge, because only I can turn a flash fic prompt into 8000 words. I haven't been able to stop listening to Frightened Rabbit’s “In Living Colour”  from their Winter of Mixed Drinks album as I was trying to figure out what I wanted to say for my next story, and then this challenge came along, and literal writer! is literal, so, there you go.The prompt was "Manhattan," and the boys wanted to be married in modern times and run a bar in the Village with the whole gang involved.  Non-happy-fun-times ensue before things sort of resolve.

I love a lot of blcwriter’s stuff, but this one is my favorite. It’s a modern day au, and Jim and Bones’s marriage is in trouble. It’s a really wonderful look at people in a long-term relationship struggling to keep it alive and wondering whether to just let it die.

Something so right by blcwriter (series is 13k words)

Author’s Summary (of the first fic in the series): "Don't say we aren't right for each other, the way I see it is.. we aren't right for anyone else."

Okay, I said I wouldn’t rec lots of things by one author and this is my one exception. I HAD to rec this one as well as Manhattan. An utterly fantastic modern day chef au. Jim and Bones knew each other at culinary school but now find each other again as real grown-ups. And the sequel is a Christmas fic! Also contains Jewish Jim, which I’m always a slut for.

That Monogamy Thing by silverlining99 (11k words)

Author’s Summary: Jim thought he was doing it RIGHT.

I also need to mention the fic The Thing About Realizing You Are In Love With Your Best Friend by JenTheSweetie because these two fics are so identical in premise I can only assume they were written for the same prompt. They’re both great, but I slightly prefer That Monogamy Thing, so it got top billing. Both fics are set during the five year mission, or at least they’re set on the Enterprise. Basically, Jim and Bones start sleeping together and Jim assumes they must be now in a Monogamous Relationship(TM) and gets with the monogamy program. Of course, at no point did anyone say they were in a monogamous relationship, so Bones is not on the same page, shall we say. It’s a classic “miscommunication causes delicious but short-lived angst” kinda vibe. You get it.

The Repairs verse by shinychimera and Yeomanrand (series is 69k words)

Authors’ Summary (of the first fic in the series):  Young Jim Kirk is unstable and self-destructive, Leonard McCoy is withdrawn and wary, and the obstacles to surviving their first term at Starfleet Academy are not easy to overcome. A dark and brutal tale of the tangled borders between healing and hurting, where hard choices between emotions and ethics have far-reaching consequences; dealing with abuse and alcoholism, affection and neglect, piercings and bar fights, hot and cold sex, complicated questions of consent, and loyalty and love between people who aren't comfortable with either. A whole new spin on "I want my pain, I need my pain."

This one is kinda...whump porn. Like, read the tags. JIm is suuuper messed up and traumatized but sometimes that’s what you need in a fic, yanno? It’s an Academy fic that deals heavily with Jim having been violently abused as a child, and him growing to trust Bones while also kind of learning how to be an adult, rather than living life as the abused child he’s spent so long being. The abuse in this fic was not sexual in nature, jsyk.

En Promenade by newsbypostcard (series is 86k words)

Author’s Summary: After three months of weekend bar-hopping and a slow process of elimination -- with finding the right bar, that was, and tragically not discovering who Bones was into -- Jim was starting to narrow it down.

A very cute Academy fic that nevertheless deals with a bit of heavy shit for both Jim and Bones. Starts out with Jim bound and determined to befriend Bones by... discovering the perfect bar for them to hang out in. Has a lot of really great exploration of Bones’s character, and he’s written in a really entertaining way.

Future Imperfect by Savoytruffle (50k words)

Author’s Summary: Leonard wins the kid in a hand of poker. A hand of poker he plays in the dirty back room of a dive bar in East Bumfuck, Iowa, two weeks after his humiliating divorce is finalized, and on the sixth day of a bourbon-fueled bender that’s somehow taken him from his high-rise loft in Atlanta to a fleabag motel in the middle of nowhere.

This fic is an Academy fic, but in a pretty dark universe. Maybe not Mirror Universe dark, but it’s one where slavery is practiced on Earth. Jim is, in this fic, Bones’s slave. Not in a sexy way. He’s part of an underclass of people who weren’t designer babies. Bones goes to the Academy and tries to become a Starfleet officer, accompanied by Jim, his newly acquired slave. They grow closer as they deal with their pasts, and I guess I should stop there for fear of spoiling too much. This one talks a lot about childhood sexual abuse, so be warned. The story overall though has a hopeful ending.

Let Me Come Home by yawnralphio (7k words)

Author’s Summary:  “Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.”

For someone who theoretically dislikes modern day AU’s, there are actually a fair few that I really really love, and this is one. Jim and Bones run a travel blog together and journey around the US in a van. It’s a really lovely mix of angst and romance.

The Switch series by Ceres_Libera (series is 269k words)

Author’s Summary (of the first fic in the series):  The life and times of Leonard H. McCoy MD/PhD … If Leonard McCoy's life could get any fucking weirder, it would be … Jesus, he didn't even want to think what that could possibly mean, because it's already been too fucking weird to make any kind of rational sense. A Starfleet Academy story, set in the ST:XI universe.

I don’t need any sass, people. I KNOW you’ve all read Switch, and I know you’re all tired of seeing it on rec lists and I don’t care. It’s famous for a reason! It’s not just long, it’s WONDERFUL. The big, epic Academy fic that kinda sets the Academy fic bar. Goes from Jim and Bones meeting all the way through the end of the 09 film. And that’s just the main fic. I really love that both Jim and Bones are depicted as realistically flawed people, especially earlier on in their acquaintance. Neither of them are angst sponges, they’re both just... kinda messed up dudes. But they’re good people who learn to love each other. Also I guess it’s technically slow burn?

The Greater Good by emiliglia (29k words)

Author’s Summary: Doctor Leonard McCoy thinks he's getting by, working as both a surgeon and a researcher at UCSF Medical Center. A chance encounter with Lieutenant Jim Kirk - who's changed since they first met five years before, and not for the better - forces Leonard to face reality about his own situation while trying to keep Jim from heading down the same path.

This is the only fic on here not on Ao3, as far as I can tell. Anyhow it’s modern day AU. Jim and Bones help themselves by helping each other and falling in looooove.

The aftershocks series by canistakahari (series is 30k words)

Author’s Summary: Jim Kirk turns down Pike’s challenge, and doesn’t get on the Starfleet recruiting shuttle. But neither does Leonard McCoy, who’s actually been in Iowa for six months already, doing fuck-all. Becoming drinking buddies seems like a natural progression.Sometimes the path to the stars is just a piece-of-shit dirt road. You know, the kind that’s filled with potholes and surrounded by brambles and conveniently happens to be located in the bottom of a ravine. But every once in a while, when confronted with such a twisted mess of circumstance and cracked foundation, the universe still does its very best to fill in the holes.

I haven’t read this in a long time, but I remember it being really good and kinda mindfucky. Not in a dark or stressful way, though. Jim and Bones don’t join Starfleet at all. I feel I shouldn’t say more because I don’t want to spoil things, but the tags should give you more information if you want some.

i think i’ll keep you (like a secret) by hoosierbitch (3k words)

Author’s Summary: Bones came to Starfleet with a hell of a lot of baggage. Jim came empty handed.

Some good ole Jim angst. Prominently featuring: Tarsus things! Allergic-to-everything Jim! Jim allowing himself to be vulnerable around Bones! All that good stuff. I just love me some vulnerability.

How Whales (Sorta) Brought Jim and Bones Together by highschool-facelesshellion (4k words)

Author’s Summary: For Leonard, first dates are flowers and small, homey restaurants where you talk quietly like you're sharing secrets with your potential girlfriend.They are not supposed to be at a table covered with aquarium maps and aquarium souvenirs. And they are certainly not supposed to be spent with a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy rambling about whales.(Or: Where Leonard is the only person that doesn't think Jim's too crazy for his whale obsession and Jim notices.)

Fairly goofy, slightly cracky remix of The Voyage Home (the one with the whales). It’s just silly and charming and I don’t know why I love the idea of Jim being a whale aficionado, but I really do. 

Any Road Will Take You There by shoreleave (63k words)

Author’s Summary: Slow-developing K/M, beginning right after the shuttle ride and showing what happens the first year at the Academy. Told from McCoy's POV.

This fic is verrrrry good. I know I have a lot of Academy fic on here, but please treat yourself and read this one. Shoreleave is really good at both plot and characterization. I really like this fic in part because it explores the root of Jim’s complete lack of trust in authority figures, while also showing just how dangerous that lack of trust can be for him.

Seeing Stars by lindmere (1k words)

Author’s Summary: Inspired by Chris Pine's wig in Bottle Shock. Jim sneaks into Riverside for an old-fashioned Fourth of July.

A very sweet, sort of domestic established relationship fic.

His Eyes are Opened by tresa_cho (21k words)

Author’s Summary: Lt Colonel Leonard McCoy thought his service days were over. After the Great War, he was ready to disappear into the sanctuary of anonymity, but the government had other plans. Strange men whisk him away from his comfortable existence to investigate an airship crash unlike anything the United States had ever seen before. The year is 1947. The location, Roswell, New Mexico.

Despite the summary saying ‘Great War’, this fic is clearly post WWII, so I think that must be a typo. There is a dearth of McKirk fic set in the forties, and hot damn does this fic ever hit the spot if that’s what you’re looking for. Usually fics that are set in modern times or earlier take out all the sci-fi elements of Star Trek, but not this one! Just a very well done fic with a unique premise.

Investigations by AceOfSpades (series is 93k words)

Author’s Summary: The first thing Jim noticed about McCoy, and what started him on this whole messy path, was that McCoy was just a little…off.

GOD DAMN I love this fic. It’s a Doom (2005) fusion, but you don’t need to know anything about Doom to get this fic. It might even help to not know anything about Doom. God knows I don’t and I adore this fic. Academy era, with Jim simultaneously befriending Bones and trying to solve the mystery of this weird Leonard McCoy guy. Theoretically we’re getting a sequel sometime, and it can’t come soon enough in my opinion. Never fear, though, the fic is complete as-is and has lovely closure. Really really really recommended!

The Galactic Adventures of Major Zeph by winterover (14k words)

Author’s Summary: Jim is a comic book nerd who’s finally found his one true sidekick. Leonard is a convention virgin who really needs a drink. There is only one bed left in San Diego.

Academy fic! For some reason I always love fics where Jim is into some kind of craft or art, or is just generally a nerd about something. This fic provides that twice: Jim is a comic book nerd as the summary says, but also really into cosplay. And Bones just happens to look like the sidekick of Jim’s favorite comic book character. Romantic hijinks ensue.

The Man Who Held Up Atlas by thalialunacy (7k words)

Author’s Summary: Five times Leonard McCoy fixed Jim Kirk’s back, and the one time he didn’t have to.

Really really lovely 5 plus 1 fic with reverse chronology. Starts with Jim and Bones as old old men and moves back in time from there, showing little snapshots of their relationship.

and i can lend you broken parts that might fit (like this) by jeyhawk (17k words)

Author’s Summary: Academy Era. First they fall into bed. Then they fall in love.

Funny and sweet. Nothing too heavy, just loads of Jim and Bones being wildly in love with each other. And sexytimes.

[ddaenqu]

Short and Sweet

Update Me Drabble - This is set before the events in Update Me

pairings: fanboy!jimin x idol!reader

themes: Non-idol Verse AU, Reverse Idol AU, Fanboy AU, Fluff, Angst,

tags: possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, overprotective behavior, unhealthy behavior, toxic behavior, sasaeng behavior, stalking

a/n: oh baby, this is for the love of my life, min (@jooniescupcakes). thank you for being my friend and happy birthday!!!! i love you so much :((( and would’ve stopped writing if it weren’t for you, my first friend on here that’s stuck w me during my weird 2am talks. you’re so sweet n cute n adorable and i only wish the best for you. i hope you enjoy this! just something i thought would be cute for update!jimin, especially since around the time you wanted a drabble with him. and i’m also freaking out because i don’t know whether i scheduled to post this when it’s july 22nd for you, or if it’s still the 21st, like i’m having such a trouble, so i’m sorry if i get it wrong :(((

Jimin absolutely hated it here.

The constant chattering filling the small room, feet that hit hard on the poor wooden floor, the constant buzz of energy that sounded like a white noise throughout the room, and the sweat that clung to the walls and skin of everyone.

He didn’t want to be here, as he always hates being at the dance studio, but today—especially—he did not want anything to do with this place.

Jimin looked around the room, beads of sweat forming at his forehead and then his legs aching, throbbing uncomfortably that he was always shifting his leg to get rid of the odd tremor in it.

Everyone was white and black to him, their faces blended into the same, their words and voices sounded like plain mockery when they spoke to him, their eyes downcast as if they bored with life, and he knew for a fact they were. They lived their lives in ignorance, he thought in spite, looking back at his phone, showing an event on the calendar with an event in capitalized words.

Just looking at it made his heart thump in an immense amount of infatuation, butterflies fluttering at the pit of his stomach, his body screaming with energy burning at his breaths, slow to comprehend a sudden rush of excitement that came and went.

Didn’t they know what today was? How important today was? Who in their right mind thought that having a lesson today would be fine?

They were obviously fucking stupid.

Usually, he’d be at home, retweeting, replying, and liking everything of yours, over and over. A cake, your favorite type, and flavor, sitting nicely in his fridge with newly bought wine sitting atop his counter with a nice ribbon he bought—in your favorite color—tied around it.

Instead, he was sitting in his dance studio, covered in, his words: grease. With people he didn’t like, neither did he have newly bought wine or a pretty cake sitting in his fridge, he doesn’t have anything.

Jimin already feels useless as it is, but now that he’s consistently messing up on the dances—he’s close to ditching or making up some half-assed excuse to get out of here.

He clicked his tongue, brushing his hair out of his face, and clicked on Twitter, hoping to lessen his sour mood.

Looking through to see all of your fan accounts, most in English, some in Japanese or Korean (that’s as far as he could understand). He can somewhat notice they were all making a mess of themselves over you, noting certain words like “I love you” in English. He couldn’t blame them though.

It was your birthday after all.

His holiday.

The one day he feels complete as if he’s celebrating something with you, being with you, knowing you’re going to be having an Instagram live, responding to birthday wishes—you’re going to be there—for him.

At one point, he thinks it’s unfair how everyone gets to celebrate it too. He wants to feel special when he congratulates you personally through a private message, email, even fan mail that he’s made sure to send in accordance to your time zone.

Although, you never reply, never text of it, or utter a word about it. He knows you must’ve read it. You had to.

You loved your fans. You love him.

He scrolls further and further through his feed, through tags that were related to you or your birthday, constantly switching through different social media’s just to look at photos you’ve posted hours ago, only to look at your face—your perfect smile that radiated everything. Everything he wants to have at this moment.

It’s a constant reminder, seeing your captions in English, never in his language, or you, rarely being able to tour, and when you do, it’s never Korea.

He detests it.

Couldn’t you learn Korean for him? It’s hard, he could understand that at least, but with his help, you could easily learn it. That way you could always understand his posts, his love and adoration for you, you could be with him and only him.

Life would be so much easier if you were with him.

A shy smile reaches his lips, only imagining what you would look like if he ever had to chance to meet you. He’d imagined you’d be shocked, that’s a given, but you would be happy.

The things he would do for you on your birthday. An unhealthy amount of dates to the park, the restaurants, the beach. Lavishing you with gifts he could only imagine were the best of the best, diamonds, gold—anything you looked at with interest, it’s there—and his hand, intertwined with yours, tight enough to leave marks.

The dance instructor walks to the front of the room, already ruining his mood. Jimin dreads their heavy steps and their obnoxious clapping to collect the students, to prepare them for another onslaught of useless dancing. The songs weren’t nearly as good and fun as yours, maybe he’ll have a talk with the instructor to change it.

“Five-minute warmup,” they state blandly, then going on to busy themselves with something or someone else, Jimin didn’t care.

Of course, he still listens.

He, slowly, goes to shut his phone off and toss it into his bag sitting in the corner of the room, obviously situated from the rest of the class’ bags. Until his phone vibrates and rings, a notification from Twitter once again. Your username popping up on the notification screen (he practically has all of your usernames ingrained into his brain, from every each app you use)

It’s a post. A thank you message.

It’s for him.

Jimin flushes with heat, his breathing becoming irregular the moment he opens it up, reading it over and over, and over. Eating up every word and letter you used, every smiley face, every emoji, everything. He doesn’t care at this point if his ears and face are red, sweat collecting at his neck—he doesn’t care at all.

He curls into himself in his awkward sitting position, his heart hurts and hurts. Muscles that were limp before, slack against the floor, were now building up with newfound energy.

Quickly, typing out a response to the thank you letter, knowing he will come back to it later and reply with something better than what everyone else is replying with under your post.

A simple “I love you” will suffice, for now, ending with a short and sweet, “Happy birthday :)”

(thank you for reading! and send birthday wishes to @jooniescupcakes please, and go all out with praises 🧸❤️)

[fictionalbadass]

Chaotic City

Chapter I

Warnings: swearing (maybe in future), killing, blood, drug use, mention of drug deals, alcohol abuse, NSFW content in future (maybe?)

A/n: I hope everyone loves this, it's my first time publishing on tumblr.

The sounds of whimpers filled Valencia's ears as she twirled a dagger in her hands and examined the man tied up in the chair.

She trailed the blade of the dagger on the skin of the man's hand when she was behind him, she placed the dagger on his throat and pulled his hair roughly, pulling his head upwards.

"Why do you think that betraying me was the best thing you can ever do in your life?" Valencia said, sickenly sweetly as her dagger bite into the man's skin, making the man cry out.

"I- I didn't mean to! I g-got a better deal!" The man exclaimed hastily, wanting to Valencia to stop hurting him.

"Hmm... better deal huh?" Valencia spoke up as she withdrew her dagger and started to twirl it again in her hands and walk around him until she was facing him.

"Tell me, how much did Giovani offered you?" Valencia demanded as she glared viciously at the man sitting infront of him.

"T-ten thousand dollar." The man gulped, scared of how Valencia would react.

Smack. Valencia slapped the man hard on his right cheek, making his ear ring loudly. He gulped again as he looked up at the mafia queen in the eye, scared for his life now.

"You are really dense Patrick. This would have costed me millions. But what do you care? You wanted to fill your pockets, and now you won't have a single cent." Valencia said, anger sipping in her head, making her see red.

"But try to-" Patrick never got to finish as Valencia slit his throat, making him trash in the chair before going still as life left his body.

"Dispose him." Valencia said before walking out of dark basement to her lavish manor. She gave her dagger to her man, who took it away to disinfect it.

"We got our hands on the drugs. It's being send to the original buyer." Maximus, Valencia's right hand informed as he joined her.

"Brilliant. Any news from the chief of Police?" Valencia asked as she walked towards her office.

"He managed to lure Hernandes into a trap and now Hernandes is serving 15 years in jail." Maximus said, smirk evident on his face.

They entered into lavish Black themed office, with leather chairs and Black wood desk infront of the large window in the office, that had red curtain. Colour contrast.

"Amazing." Valencia said, smirking as she sat on her chair and kept her legs on the desk and clasped her hand together.

"Anything new on streets?" Valencia asked as she stared at Maximus.

"Nothing is new on streets. People still think goddess of you." Maximus informed as he sat on down on the chair infront of the desk.

"I want to get in contact with Siddhart Patel from India. He wanted to talk about exporting some drugs to his ring." Valencia said, putting a cigarette between her lips and lighting the cigarette with the lighter.

"Antònio mercelia called back. He has successfully delivered the drugs. But the hold on Europe by the Davis and Xaviers is proving a barrier." Maximus said as he scrolled through his phone. Valencia puff out the smoke of the cigarette.

"Europe it is, ain't it?" Valencia asked as she placed her legs down and leaned forward with her elbows on the table and chin being supported by her hands. She puffed out the smoke of the cigarette, that she inhaled a moment ago.

"Yes. Anthony Xavier and Harrison Davis. Both of them are the mafia king of Europe. News has it that they are loved by the politicians of that country for bring millions in the country everyday." Maximus snorted as he never understood mindset of politicians.

"Obsession with money, huh? Run me their information please. I want to know everything about them. From their hometown to their current location." Valencia ordered, while a malicious intention sparkled in those greyish yellow eyes.

"I am on it." Maximus said as he furiously typed on his macbook, while Valencia started to play with her pocket knife. She put out the cigarette between her finger and closed the ash tray.

Seven seas away, a cry sounded in the alley way. The man seemed to be running a marathon, or a race to save his life.

"I swear to jesus, I don't work for any mafia entity!" The man begged to the shadow that was overwhelming him.

"Tsk, tsk. A lie. I have so much experience that I am able to point out your lie. So tell me, who are you working for?" A disembodied voiced sounded in the empty alley way.

"I told you, I don't work for anyone. I just had drugs delivered at my door way, and I delivered those drugs to the original buyer. Nothing more!" The man said desperately, knowing that if he couldn't defend himself, he is as good as dead.

But there was no further questioning as two blasts of bullets resounded in the alleyway, marking the fate of the man in the alleyway.

"I hate liars." The man who killed the man grumbled as he pocketed his gun and turned around and removed his phone.

"Anthony, I am sure this trail leads to Valencia." Orion spoke up as his brother picked up his phone.

"You sure about that?" The person on the other side of the line asked, wary evident in his voice.

"Who else would deliver American crack cocaine to England? I am sure that it is the infamous Valencia Downey." Orion said as his driver opened the door for him, and Orion sat in the car.

"I will inform Davis about this, but are you really sure about this?  One misinformation can destroy our empire." Anthony made his concern evident to Orion.

"I am sure about this. Trust me on this one." Orion said to his brother and hung up before doing his own research.

The lady was more beautiful than he thought she would be. Beauty with poison...deadly combination.

She knows what she is doing, so does Orion. He pocketed his phone as he let his mind wander on the outcome of Valencia taking over their empire.

She was known for her ruthless and cruel treatment of the people who works for her. Except one. Maximus Carson. She seems to attach to him.

Maybe he is her weakness, or maybe something more for her. Orion's thought consumed him, and it was like an obsession growing day by day.

Orion entered his brother's office, unbottoning his blazer and removing the blazer. He tossed the blazer on the sofa in the corner, and loosened his tie.

"So Antònio Mercelia didn't give away anything?" Anthony asked from where he was sitting.

"Nope. He lied to me. And I hate liars." Orion growled as he sat on the sofa cross legged.

"So he is dead?" Anthony asked, raising his single brow at his brother.

"Yes. He is. But Europe is in for treat. There have been so many American spies in England, that it's more than obvious that Valencia has set her eyes on our country." Orion said, rolling his sleeves up and rubbing his forehead in irritation.

"Why are you so frustrated?" Anthony asked, amusement making it's way in his voice.

"What if we are too laid back and she gets her hold on our country? That's a nightmare for me. But what if that happens?" Orion asked as he stared at his brother, who just rolled his eyes.

"As much as I know about this Downey woman, she has control over America, and three fourth of Asia. But she tried three times to take her control on Europe, but just to fail. And we are not laid back. Stop worrying about the outcome which is not possible." Anthony reassured his brother as he went back to his typing again.

"Sir, Mr. Harrison Davis and Mr. Peter Davis are here to see you." Their Assistant stepped in the office and informed the duo.

"Sent them in please." Anthony said to his assistant before closing his macbook and fixing his blazer.

The two brunette stepped inside, in all formal wear and non chalant look. They both didn't look much familiar, yet they were brothers.

"Ah Harrison, peter. Have a seat." Anthony said firmly, neither friendly, nor with anonymity.

"You sounded like the matter on our hands is urgent. What is going on?" Harrison asked, sitting in the white leather chair, followed by Peter, who sat beside him.

"My brother here is concerned about Valencia Downey of America. In three weeks he has killed 6 rogues who started to work with Valencia. We ought to tighten our hold and boundaries." Anthony said, hands clasped in seriousness.

"I conveyed same concern to Harrison this morning. There are many of our employees going rogue. It's our time to tighten our grip and boundaries over our employees." Peter agreed nodding his head.

"We will do that, but be less paranoid. You will give away about your knowledge about knowing to have spies in our empire easily. And Valencia has already tried thrice, she won't succeed in her fourth attempt. We wont let her win." Harrison reassured his brother as he leaned back in his chair.

"If you dare to underestimate this woman, I will cut your throat. She is not a normal woman!" Peter exclaimed as he glared at his brother.

"Same goes for you Anthony. I will empty my bullets in you." Orion quipped, eyebrows raised in threatening way.

"I am glad to know that you are on our side." Anthony piped back, dryly and full of sarcasm.

"Good. Because I won't hesitate to do what I told you." Orion snapped back, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

"And if you will try to get an access to her information, it's practically impossible. Even if you get a high rank Hacker, she will know our IP adress, giving out our location. We have to find our way. Sending some spies to America. In the den of snakes." Peter offered, eyes hold a determined look.

"I offer myself as a tribute." Oliver speak up from his place, not lifting his eyes from his phone.

"And I will tag along with him." Peter added, a smirk slowly made it's way on his lips.

"Are you two sure? Because one wrong move, it can cost you your lives." Harrison asked, brotherly instinct kicking in.

"Was never sure about something, like I am sure about this. I want to know how Valencia Downey works." Orion said, a smirk and something along the line of malice sparkled in his green eyes.

"If you are that sure about this. You will be leaving for America in two weeks." Anthony said, still not having good feeling about whole thing, but he knew his brother will do it, no matter how much he try, he won't budge.

Orion and Peter exchanged a triumph look before talking about clubs they opened last months.

Orion and Peter were the soul and heart of Davis and Xavier Empire. Both were ready to get blood on their hands, and they did got blood on their hands.

Harrison and Anthony were brain and discipline of the two empire, and without them Orion and Peter would have got themselves killed in the second year as a mafia.

And looking at the situation, it's either going to be a deal, or bloodshed. And the things will remain uncertain until the end.

[yinandyangyang]

a compilation | han

Pairing: Han x Reader

Genre: cup of angst, with a dash of fluff

Tags: blurbs, unrequitedlove, ANGsT, floof?

A/N: this is a compliation of han - related blurbs, undeveloped plots, and angst, plus a tiny bit of fluff

let me know if there are any you think I should continue with!

@bunnyhani​ happy late omg im so sorry birthday, luv!!! you actually make me smile so much, you are a highlight in my life and since none of the scenarios i was trying to make actually really seemed like enough, i just made a few, unfinished, unrelated blurbs, chats, random han related thoughts and compiled them for you ~

01. build me a bridge of rose petals

unrequitedlove!reader

“This isn’t something I can just get over,” I mumbled quietly into the phone. My best friend sighed in response, thoroughly annoyed with hearing of me and my failures at romance. 

“Look, y/n,” she hummed, irritation sprayed heavily into her words. “Cry me a fucking river, build a bridge, and get your dumb, absolutely idiotic ass over it. He isn’t worth your time. You’ve been in love with the dick for - how long - like a decade now. And not once has he reciprocated your feelings.”

A sob built in my throat and I bit my lip to keep it from escaping. I’d yell back, if I had the energy. But I didn’t. And she was right, any who. I’d been hopelessly in love with the one, the only, Han Jisung for years, since middle school. And never once had he liked me back. We had been friends for all this time, yes, Jisung and I. We had even gone dancing together a few times. 

“Stop dreaming, stop selling yourself short, stop rejecting all these other guys in the hopes he’ll magically like you back because you’re hurting yourself. I can’t stand seeing you like this any longer, y/n. I know I sound like an ass, but you deserve all the happiness in the world and I know you will never in a million years, find that with Jisung.

“Forget him, y/n. Forget him and be happy.” 

“... okay,” was all I could manage. Because ultimately, she was right. I had been letting him get in the way of my happiness for far too long. “Talk later.” 

And shutting off the phone, I tossed it across the room. Her voice echoed in my mind, “Forget him, y/n. Forget him and be happy.”

It wasn’t that easy, though, I thought to myself. He’s just always there. Han Jisung’s always on my mind. His smile. His voice. His eyes, lord, his eyes. The curve of his lips. The way he looked when he laughed. 

A sudden bout of painful coughing rumbled deep through my diaphragm, wracking my whole body with violent bouts of wheezing until I was left gasping for breath. Something pink flew out of my mouth fluttered slowly to the ground. I brought my hand up to my lips to investigate and the sickeningly sweet smell of roses wafted through the room.

My finger tips fell away from my mouth wet. Covered in blood. Another cough shook my body. 

Two more rose petals shot past my lips. 

02. lotto winner

bestfriend!jisung

“My gosh, __,” Jisung whined, scrolling through his instagram feed for the third time that hour. “What are you doing, wrestling with the zipper? Why do you take so long?”

“Yah, Han Jisung! Trying on clothes isn’t as easy as you think, okay?” you shouted through the changing stall door, still trying to decide whether the outfit looked good on you or not. “Can you look at this outfit and tell me what you think? I don’t know if it fits my body right.”

“Fine,” your companion sighed. “Just hurry, up, okay?” Jisung stared wistfully out the window at the bright blue sky. It was really lovely this afternoon and he had to spend it with you, inside an expensive clothing store looking like it had just come out of tumblr’s aesthetic page, waiting for you to try on clothes.

Jisung subconsciously glanced down at his watch right as you hesitantly exited your changing stall. The edge of the baby blue cropped crew neck ended right above the waistband of the black corduroy skirt and the trim of your skirt fell right a good six inches above your knees. Cradling your arms to your chest, you shot your friend a nervous smile. Frilly and girly wasn’t your usual look, you would have rather worn a pair of boyfriend jeans and one of Jisung’s oversized sweaters.

“What do you think?”

“You look good, now let’s go,” he spoke and not bothering to spare a glance up, he shrugged. You noticed of course.

“Yah! Jisung, you idiot!” you yelled, picking up the closest pair of pants next to you and throwing them directly at the head of your best friend. “You’re supposed to actually look when I ask you to.”

Peeling the pants off his head, Jisung rolled his neck, now more irritated than he was 3 seconds ago. First you waste his time and now you throw a pair of pants at him. What the hell? When would the torture end? He sighed for the nth time that afternoon, gaze finally traveling over your figure. And all irritation drained out of him like it was nothing. 

The second his eyes fell over your shy smile and flushed cheeks, all he could think of was damn. You looked good. The miniskirt complimented your curves and accentuated the length of your legs. Baby blue against black wouldn’t have been his first choice, but the innocent way you looked up at him erased all color complaints he had.

Whatever guy started ended up stealing your heart would be one damn lotto winner.

Coming back to himself, Jisung scoffed, immediately looking away from you. A pretty pink flush tickled the apples of his cheeks.

“W-what?” you stuttered, looking down at yourself nervously. “It doesn’t look good, does it? Oh my- I should have known better. It’s the color combination, right? I knew I should have picked pink or something-”

Jisung snorted, pushing himself up to flick you in the forehead. Stunned, the speech spilling from your tongue like word vomit halted and you looked at him.

“Oh my God, __. First things first, I didn’t need to look at you because I know you look fine in anything you pick. Secondly, now that I finally looked at you, I just realized that I shouldn’t have because now I’m disappointed. You don’t look as pretty as I was envisioning you.”

“Shut up, dumbass!” All prior unease forgotten, you smacked him in the shoulder. “Another comment like that and I won’t buy you food.”

“Okay, jeez,” he snickered, rubbing the spot you hit him. “You do look pretty, though.”

“Yeah, right.” You called, flouncing back into the changing stall with a pout. “You just want food.”

“Believe what you want to,” Jisung sang back, settling back down onto the couch outside the stall, all thoughts of you and just how good you looked erased. “I could always leave you here.”

Within seconds, you were out of the stall, completely changed and the slightest bit pink in the face. Jisung bit back a laugh. If there was anything you hated more than the thought of being with him (romantically), it was the thought of being without Jisung.

03. best friends v. break ups

text convo

j*s.~.ng: I've never felt more exhausted… j*s.~.ng: normally I wouldn't publicize this j*s.~.ng: but my heart hurts. So. Much j*s.~.ng: can I call you? j*s.~.ng: ahit nvm. j*s.~.ng: i forgot you're on a blind date…. j*s.~.ng: forget everything and ples enjoy :))) y/n: *5 seconds later* hey you okay? j*s.~.ng: all good ☺ y/n: don't hide behind emojis I know you better than that j*s.~.ng: but you're on a date j*s.~.ng: what are you doing texting me y/n: he kinda already left because you kept texting j*s.~.ng: shit. j*s.~.ng: I'm so sorry. y/n: don't be. He was a control freak j*s.~.ng: are you sure I'm not interrupting something? y/n: absolutely, chill j*s.~.ng: can...you pick me up? y/n: already in my car. Where you at?

04. silently 

unrequited!reader

It was all too soon when I got that feeling again. You know… that feeling.

That feeling, the one you get where your heart, slowly breaking, drops without hesitation into the depths of your stomach and begins to churn, boiling up a brew with the irritating emotions called heartbreak, loneliness, and hurt. The stench of the horrific brew rises and rises and continues to rise in your stomach, building up pressure in your lungs and making it hard to breathe properly. It eventually makes its way to your eyes, odor building tears up… and then there’s really nothing you can do to keep them from falling.

You know… that feeling.

I’ve loved the same boy since I was eleven years old. For a portion, a small one mind you, of that time, I was told he liked me back. Of course, that was merely a miniscule section of that time, the rest of the time, we decided to grow up, only when I grew up, I was left with the same feelings I’d had for him all those years ago. It killed me.

And it was only natural that he wasn’t.

We’d both had a couple flings with other people tossed in there… but my mind was constantly on him and his... wasn’t. His eyes, his lips, his arms, his laugh, his smile. I loved him. And nothing was ever going to happen between us. Because of his lack of self confidence, he always looked for affirmation in month long relationships, only to break it off, then find someone else over the course of the next week.

Did it hurt? Yeah. Of course it hurt. Fuck, it burned like shit. But what could I do?

I’d talk it out with close friends, my mom. It wouldn’t solve anything though. I was still left with that same heartache, the same slow, numbing pain.

There were those instances I wouldn’t see him for a while and those overpowering feelings would subside into a a low, near non existent hum. It would be those periods of time that would hurt the most, yet also be the most peaceful. During those hours, days, weeks… I would find myself missing him, his hugs, his smile… but I would also find solace in those moments of not having to worry about him, how he was doing, what I’d wear when I saw him next...

But through all those times, through all those years… it had never hurt this much. He’d already had so many girlfriends before and his yearning, his unquenching desire for constant affirmation seemed never to be satisfied, so he dropped one and moved on again.

When he and I made eye contact from the ends of the hall ways, a bright smile overtook my lips like it always did. This time though, it wasn’t because he was wearing a pair of slim cut denim jeans with a white form-fitting button down and a black suit jacket and looking the most attractive I’d seen him in a while, it was because I had decided to finally come in terms with my feelings. I loved him and appreciated him as a person, a friend... and a boy.

He approached me with a playful smile, the brightness of his expression challenging the setting sun.

But was we made our way into the room, sat down beside each other like regular, and began to talk, the conversation took a turn, one that really wasn’t in favor of my mood.

He brought up his newest girlfriend.

It wasn’t like I was angry at him for having a girlfriend, I was just a good friend, nothing more than that to him. He wasn’t mine. He was his own person.  

“So..” I hummed, trying to keep the conversation light, though really it’s not like anyone would have noticed my sudden shift in mood. I mean, we’re talking about me for goodness sake. I threw shade for fun and if I was hurt, it’d always be masked by my overpowering sarcasm. One sudden mood shift wouldn’t stand out, after all, I’d had enough practice hiding my true feelings from an unfortunate many times before. “She’s pretty?”

“Oh, exponentially more so,” he hummed, a radiant, beautiful smile decorating his lips as his mind drifted off once more to his gorgeous girlfriend. I never got that smile. That special, heart breaking smile was only reserved for the best, the prettiest and that was not me. “She’s... everything I didn’t realize I wanted in someone...”

He continued on, speaking of her eyes and how they glittered with this special something every time he saw her. Had my eyes ever looked like that to him?

He brought up her hair, how soft it felt when he ran his fingers through it, how it always seemed to fall perfectly. My hair... I reached up subconsciously to touch it. Was it soft? Did it ever look effortlessly beautiful like that?

His eyes glowed when he redirected his description of her to her smile. He said it was perfect, the way it shaped her eyes into pretty little crescent moons, and that when they were together, it seemed her lips were curved into nothing but. I frowned. He never noticed - wait no, of course he didn’t. Why would he notice my smile when his mind was solely on hers?

I brought my knees up to my chest, the familiar feeling of self pity slowly consuming me. I could no longer concentrate on trying to be a supportive friend while my heart was breaking like this.

I choked back a silent sob. He continued speaking, eyes glazed over in adoration of his girlfriend. My eyes burned, tears welling up at the corners. He chuckled, laughing about something she reminded him of. I reached up, wiping away my unshed tears. He smiled down at his fingers, moving them, savoring the feeling of the ghosts of her fingertips.

He didn’t notice anything. He never did.

A sad, somewhat pessimistic thought entered my mind. Was it because I wasn’t pretty? Would he notice the more minuscule things about me if I was pretty? Would he ask if I was okay if I was pretty?

Would I mean anything more to him... if I was pretty?

Forcing down my tears, I sighed, smacking a easy-going smile back onto my lips. Who cared if it looked fake. It’s not like he would have noticed anyways.

05. you, me, & the moonlight

roommate!au

“Hey...” I hummed, looking up briefly from my computer screen to Han Jisung, my best guy friend, roommate, and unbelievably cliche forever crush. The dim light from the yellow street lights outside mixed together with the lazy, past 10 pm atmosphere in the room. My feet lay on his lap, his laptop perched on my shins. At the sound of his name, he turned to meet my gaze, the slight dimple in his cheek sending my heart into an unauthorized gymnastics routine. He dislodged one earbud from his ear.

“Yeah?”

“What on your schedule tomorrow?” My eyes dropped down to the half-written essay on my laptop screen to avoid a blush from appearing on my cheeks. “I wanna do something.”

He yawned, stretching his arms above his head, t-shirt riding up on his stomach to reveal a sliver of the smooth planes of his taut muscles. Dammit, Han Jisung, cover yourself better.

“Hmm… There’s a morning practice tomorrow from 5:15 to 7, and then I have classes from 8 to 12. Afternoon practice is 2 to 3:30… I also have a study session later tomorrow, like around 4-ish, but it shouldn’t last longer than a couple hours. So we can either do something during lunch or pull an all-nighter doing whatever. Your choice.” He shut his laptop and placed it on the coffee table, the kitchen lights making his chlorine-bleached hair glow golden.

“Well tomorrow’s Friday. I’m most likely going to be asleep during lunch, and I don’t have anything on Saturday until after lunch so I’m game for the all-nighter.” I shut my laptop and placed it on the coffee table as well, rearranging myself so that my head rested on his shoulder. “But if you have morning practice, you should probably go to sleep soon.”

“Alright mom, geez.”

He scoffed in faux offense, laying his head atop mine on instinct. 

And, the mere movement sent my heart beating about fifteen times faster than it was supposed to be.

06. your sensitive side 

idolfriend!jisung

“Why are you sitting so far away?” Jisung stared at me, a confused look on his angelic features. For once, I wasn’t cuddled into his side. For once, I decided to sit on the very opposite side of the couch, curled up with my favorite penguin plush, Snoogly Woogly. A childish frown marred my usually gentle features.

“Why does it matter?” I spat out, clutching Snoogly Woogly tighter.

“Because you’re obviously bothered and in need of a hug,” he said quite matter-of-factly. I buried my face in Snoogly Woogly and groaned loudly, trying to smother the butterflies in my stomach with annoyance. He just smiled, put down his pineapple pizza and crawled over to my side of the couch. Soon enough, Snoogly Woogly was pulled out of my arms and her plush body was replaced with his firm, warm one. He picked me up, cradling me on his lap.

“Hey!!! You’re on my side of the couch, you big dumb dumb!” Instinctively, my arms wound around his lithe, idol body. I could feel him smile into my shoulder as he hugged me closer til we were pressed flush against each other.

“Oh please. If only you could feel how tight you’re hugging me right now.”

“Only because I don’t want to fall, you fucking sequoia tree!” I growled into his chest. “You’re still on my side, though.”

“Fine.” With that, Jisung picked me up as he stood and walked back to his side of the couch. Sitting back down, with me on his lap, he gave me a pointed look. “Is this better?”

A blush raged across my face. Why did he have to be so… obnoxiously strong and sensitive? I had been living with him for how long and still haven’t found enough flaws to stop liking him.

The night went on. We had just finished our third movie, second box of fried chicken and first box of pizza, and he still hadn’t let go of me. Then again, he was asleep now and he usually went to hug things in his sleep. Pushing off his drowsy form carefully, I peered at the clock on the microwave. 2:54 am.

Slipping out of his loosening grasp, I cleaned the coffee table off. Out went the trash, into the fridge went the pizza. Approaching the couch once more, the cracks of my broken heart softened as my eyes ran over his sleeping figure. I pulled off his glasses gently and set them down by the charging ports in the dining room. He shifted in his sleep, better revealing his soft features.

My hand stretched forward subconsciously to brush the hair from out of his face but I stopped myself. No... I shouldn’t. I turned to head back into the kitchen. Where the fuck was the melatonin..? But as if the whole universe was pitted against me, one of the legs on the coffee table somehow magically placed itself inconveniently in front of my foot.

Before I could stop myself, a whisper-shouted fuck surged past my lips. At the sound of my profanity, his eyes cracked open.

“Hey… shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Though his words were mumbled almost incoherently, his deep brown eyes gazed up at me, awaiting an answer.

“Oh- well yea-” before I could finish my sentence, he reached forward and placed a finger to my lips. Once that effectively silenced me, he sat up and wrapped his arms around my smaller body for the second time tonight, pulling me to the relaxed pace of his heart. For a moment, I lay there stiffly. Though this was no new position to me, my mind raced with doubts. The recent pain in my chest was getting worse, making it harder to think, function, and act normal around him. What had I let myself get pulled into? More importantly, what had I let my heart get roped into all those years ago?

As if sensing my unease, he cracked one eye open, ran a hand through my semi-tangled tresses and rested his lips against my forehead.

“Then sleep.”

07. even death would be kinder

arrangedmarriage!au

“Oh __, my darling girl, how you’ve grown!” I grinned weakly, doing my best to enthusiastically return Mrs. Han’s hug. The woman was like my second mother. I had known her since I was in primary school and I absolutely adored her. Her son on the other hand…

“Han Jisung, come here and say hello!” Mrs. Han called out to her son. I steeled myself for the shock of seeing how the now unfamiliar young man approaching us had changed.

“Hi, __.”

The first thing that came to my mind was ‘hot DANG. his voice got deeper.’

Seulgi bowed quickly before shooting me an apprehensive look and taking her leave.

Taking a deep breath and a quick mental check, I looked up and extended my hand out to shake his hand in greeting. Upon looking up though, I could feel my hand fall slack in disbelief.

The young awkward boy I had fallen in and out if love with during my teen years had now been replaced with a suave, smooth young man. His smile came easily, lips stretched to reveal his bright teeth. His chubby, babyish face had slimmed down significantly over the years. His chiseled jawline and crescent eyes accommodated the handsome face he now sported well. But his eyes… the playful, mischievous brown eyes of his had not changed at all in the years that had passed.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I quickly shook his hand, slapping a professional smile on my mouth.

“Pleasure to see you again, Mr. Han. It's been too long.”

His smile faltered and the happy curve if his beautiful eyes vanished. Nonetheless, he shook my hand firmly and nodded, the smile, albeit a tad uncomfortable, still remaining.

“It has.”

Quickly releasing his hand, I stepped back. An uncomfortable silence shrouded us until Mrs. Han cleared her throat.

“Why the long faces, you two? You were the best of friends years ago,” turning to her son, she reached up to pinch his cheek. “Why, I recall you telling me she was the only girl you could be completely comfortable around.”

The handsome male across from me stiffened.

“That’s because she’s like a sister to me mom,” he said, smiling thinly. I pursed my lips, clutching the clipboard in my hands a tad bit tighter. Yes. That was all I was. Nothing but a ‘sister’.

“Oh pish posh,” Mrs. Han scoffed, waving her hand through the air as if it were nothing. “You’re acting as if she’s nothing but a stranger right now.”

Jisung rolled his eyes.

“Mother, we haven’t seen each other in ages.”

“Ages, my foot.” She slapped her son’s arm. “Now you two, stop acting like children. It’s time we had lunch.”

08. how much you care

domesticfriendship!au

“Guess what today is?” I asked, bouncing on the tip of my toes. Literally. Because I was wearing high heels. And one does not simply bounce on their whole feet with high heels.

“Your birthday,” Jisung spoke, returning my smile with an equally casual one.

“Yeup!” He had remembered! Excitement hung around me as I hummed giddly in response. I had finally gotten my feelings in order and realized how much he meant to me. It wasn't just my birthday. Perhaps now maybe I could mean something more to someone.

The lesson went by quickly and before I knew it, so had the majority of the night. Soon enough, it was just the two of us left in the room. While half of me knew he would soon be walking out of those doors like the rest of the students, half of me prayed desperately for him to stay.

“Can I show you something?” He asked suddenly, gesturing to the computer. Giving my consent, he searched and pulled a video up. And for the next minute and a half, I watched flashes of meme-filled images singing a horrid, remixed happy birthday song.

“Wow,” I chuckled in disbelief. His boyish laugh sounded in harmony. “I don't know what I expected but that definitely wasn't it.”

“Well I mean, I'm broke so I couldn't have got you anything,” he snorted incredulously.

“That's is true.”

I took a good long moment to appreciate his features. His smile. He was extremely attractive and I knew that. I knew that from the moment I first saw him in 4th grade. But did I ever do anything about it? No.

All of a sudden, I didn't know what to say. Conversations had never been awkward between us but for some reason, at this moment in time, my heart began to beat faster, my cheeks began to color. A feeling of dread filled my stomach. Oh no. Was I... falling for one of my close male friends??

Before the moment could get any more awkward, the sound of a vibration alerted the both of us to his phone and, pulling it out, the smile dropped from his face. An apologetic smile covered his lips and he pocketed the device once more. 

“Aight, my dad is here,” Jisung sighed, gesturing to the door. “I gotta head out.” 

Disappointment coiled in my stomach when he turned towards the door, exiting without a second glance. I stood there, staring at his receding figure, confused at why I was feeling the way I was. I didn’t know what I had been hoping for, but it certainly wasn’t for him to leave like that. 

Something in my body pulled me forwards, nearly tripping me over my own feet as I chased after him. 

“Wait! Jisung!” I called breathlessly from the doorway. “No birthday hug or anything?? I’m offended.” 

The boy turned, teasing smile playing at his lips. He paused in his step, rolling his eyes. The boyish quirk in his smile sent my heart hurtling over the edge into the chasm of having a crush at what seemed like a thousand miles per hour. 

“Fine,” he spoke, grin more than obvious in his voice. He continued towards me, hands shoved sheepishly into his hoodie pocket. 

“No, nevermind,” I scoffed playfully, turned back around, crossing my arms in faux offense. “I don’t need your hugs. Even though it is my birthday.” 

“Come on, y/n,” Jisung hummed, his soft, velvety voice sounding right by my ear. “Don’t be like that.” 

All of a sudden, a pair of warm, strong, lithe, familiar arms snuck around my waist pulling me firmly against the built frame of my best friend. The scent of his fabric softener and body wash overwhelmed my senses until all I could feel was him and home. He bent down, resting his cheek against the top of my head. 

A fiery blush burned over my cheeks. 

“Jisung-” I whispered, turning around in his arms. But that was all I could say before he pulled me into his chest once more, cradling my head into his comforting body heat. The sound of his melodic, hypnotizing heartbeat flowed through my ears, falling into a comfortable pace with mine. 

“Happy birthday, y/n.” 

[secondchancesfic]

S.C: Chapter III

Superhero!AU

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairings: Parental Analogical, Platonical Anxceit, Platonical SleepxDeceit. 

Tags/Warnings: Cursing, one sided crush (DeceitxLogan), nightmares. Violence (shocked, kicked)  Hypnosis/Induce hallucinations. Hallucinations. (If I missed something, please tell me) 

Words: 6842

TOGETHER BREAKFAST:

It was morning already, 5:30 to be precise. Monday.

Logan woke up turning around in his bed, he felt tired and heavy like usual. He searched for his glasses in the bureau, touching his book, a glass of water and the clock before setting his hand on the pair. He places them under his eyes and stretches while yawning, gets out of bed and goes straight to the bathroom to take a shower and brush his teeth. All part of his normal routine. His clothes were already in a chair, ready to be wore.

He finished fixing his hair and tying his tie when he heard the shouts of Virgil and Gregory fighting again over something he couldn’t comprehend, he check his wrist clock. 5:46 am. Odd… their antics usually start 6 minutes later. He finishes fixing his outfit and turns to grab his brown bag that was hanging from the chair, once he checked for his books, pens and markers to make sure they were there, he exists the bedroom.

-Are we seriously having this conversation?- Gregory said amused by Virgil’s reaction when he pour mustard on his eggs. Virgil gagged dramatically, getting an eye roll from the other hero.

-You are so fucking gross, man! - Virgil said looking away, Gregory flip him off while eating his eggs cover in a heavy layer of the yellow condiment.  

-Good morning- Logan said as he entered the kitchen, both young heroes greeted him.

-There are some eggs in the pan- Virgil said with the mouth full.

-And you call me gross …- Gregory remarked as he raise his cup of coffee and looked with disgust at Virgil.

Virgil open his mouth to show the chew food, Gregory sneered very gross out. The purple eyed hero smirk and continue eating his breakfast. Logan looked at both of them while eating his eggs standing up.

-So, what’s for today? - Logan asked. –Is anyone staying late today?-

-Nah, after class I’m coming here- Virgil said almost relief.

He hated to be in the medicine career, finishing it was more of a challenge than a desire of his. Virgil wanted to prove he was able to be responsible, and what is more responsible than a career that involves saving lives.

Of course, it doesn’t make any sense. It’s not like he wasn’t doing so already by being a freaking hero, but might as well study something related to his powers if he isn’t able to be a solo hero right? Suffice to say, being in the career is a mistake and Virgil is a mess.

-Gregory? - Logan turn to the other hero.

Gregory choked a bit in his coffee, but composed himself quickly. –Well I don’t think I have practice today, so I guess I’ll be here too after class-

Virgil snorted.  

-What? – Gregory looked directly at Virgil.

Virgil finished up his breakfast with a fade smile. Gregory would get startled when someone used his name, Virgil usually cuts it short to Greg or calls him Dee while Logan calls him by his hero name since they spend more time at the association. He hated his name with a burning passion but what was he supposed to do?  

-Alright, then. Do call if any of you need assistance of sorts- Logan finished his breakfast and placed the empty plate in the sink.

-It won’t be necessary, Logan. I appreciated it though- Gregory said getting the cup of coffee to his lips.

Logan smiled and nodded, Gregory’s heart skipped a beat. The older hero turn to clean up his plate, Gregory looked at Virgil who was scrolling through his phone.

“The date” Gregory remembered.

-Hey Virgil, can you lend me your phone? - Gregory suddenly asked.

-No- Virgil said deadpan with his eyes glued to the screen.  

-Wha- Why not??- He was genuinely thrown aback.

-Because last time I lend it to you, you made my phone glitch and throw jumpscares every time I tried to open my apps- Virgil throw daggers with a stare at Gregory, his voice was annoyed but amused.

Oh. Right. Gregory chuckled to himself. Virgil wasn’t angry anymore about that prank, he was rather impressed and amused but hell knows he was really freak out the first 5 times the jumpscares pop out.  

Anyway, Gregory won’t be able to get that phone asking nicely, so maybe he could try to search through Virgil’s computer for some information like where would it be and who is the date and the time…

“Ok…That’s a really creepy thing to do…” Gregory thought to himself.

His crush was getting in the way of thinking objectively. Objectively speaking, Logan can be really cold and talk and talk about subjects that no everyone can comprehend, maybe Logan would annoyed the date so much they end the date sooner. That way Gregory wouldn’t have to move a finger and his conscience would be clean.  Sure, hoping for the worst on someone he cares isn’t nice but he really didn’t want Logan to be with someone else. If Gregory couldn’t have him no one else can…

“I should really stop thinking about this….” He thought to himself again.

Once everyone finished their breakfast and clean up the dishes, they left the home together.

 MORNING:

They get to their location; the university. Logan works as a calculus teacher, while the other two younger heroes go to class but not in the career Logan usually teaches. It is a matter of walking for a couple minutes for each to get to their respective classes, to either attend or teach.

The older hero was always excited to teach his class something new, but this time he was feeling rather nervous. After questioning Crimson and the information about their preferable pronouns, Logan kept thinking about the possibilities of who they might be. Certain mannerisms and physical characteristics seem to match someone he knows from one of his classes, as well as the pronouns. However, there’s no way to prove that at all. It might be just a coincidence, a very, very, very huge coincidence. There are plenty people with black hair, there is a low percentage of people being non binary but it’s still a remarkable percentage. Crimson couldn’t be a 19 year old, they were doing so much wrong, so much destruction and at such young age.

No, Logan was just overthinking that probability. It was just a coincidence.  

He walked towards the classroom, once inside he went towards his desk. Students were taking to each other, sleeping or listening to music. Some of them notice their teacher getting the markers out and went to sit in their own desks. Logan greeted everyone in a kind and energetic way, only to get a monotone greeting and groan.

-You could at least pretend to have energy. What, the coffee machine stopped working? - Logan said with a smile

Some students giggled. He can understand their not very passionate greet, it was 7:30 am; class should had started 30 minutes ago but Logan lets his students have those extra minutes to try to wake up. It doesn’t always work though. No class should start this early, but what can he do?

-Alright. I’ll check your attendance, so pay attention- He called out.

Name after name, each student said either a “Here” or a groan. Whatever sound coming from the very tired and sleep deprived students would count to Logan and he would place a mark next to their names.

-Liberato, Elliot- Logan called out the name. He didn’t get an answer, which wasn’t unusual, Elliot was often asleep or listening to music while resting their head in the desk. Logan look up from his list and looked at the empty desk.

Students looked at the desk, some of them who are closed to Elliot mumbled, sharing looks and shrugs. “Odd…” Logan thought. Elliot has never missed a class. Sure, they had few absences due to not paying attention when they got called, but other than that, they would always be there.

Logan continued calling out all the names until he finished, then told his students to read the copies he got for them last class and excuse himself from the classroom. He went towards the office, sometimes students would leave a constancy or a message for the teacher so the absence wouldn’t hurt their final grade.

Most of the teachers wouldn’t even care about the constancies, thinking it is only an excuse for being lazy and miss class. Logan did care about his students, and knew certain circumstances could and would affect them outside of their control, so he makes sure to give a little extra help if anything of the sorts occurred, but the students needed to present something that made sure it was completely necessary to miss a class.

Once he got to the office, he asked for any message or constancy from Elliot. The secretary didn’t had any of those things, Logan thanked the secretary and left towards his class. He stopped in the corridor and took out his phone to check if he got any email from the student, his mail box was empty. He got to his class, several students were talking instead of reading. Typical.

-Alright, go back to your desks and continue reading- Logan said as he pointed at a couple students who were sat over their desks. Everyone returned and continue reading.

Logan sat down at his desk and organize his notes. He glance at the empty desk. What were the odds of capturing Crimson and suddenly one of Logan’s best students wasn’t there? Odd. And, if true, heartbreaking.

 NOON:

Last class of the day was dismissed; Virgil was more than happy, it was one he hated after all.

Instead of telling Logan or Gregory, since they probably were in class, he decided to walk home. It was common for Virgil to do so, he knew all the streets pretty well and frequently used the public transportation. And it’s totally not because he goes at night fighting minor criminals and leaving the crime scene as fast as possible.

Virgil walked out of the campus and across the street towards a café. He didn’t exactly like it there, the coffee really sucked and the ambience was shit, but since his favorite place was down for the moment he didn’t had other options. The only good thing from that place were the pastries, for some reason pastries were not the specialty there. The person owning the place was very dumb or had too much faith in the horrible and poor excuse of coffee. Virgil could say that place made him very bitter.

He got the establishment and order a chocolate muffin. It looked grey, literally. As if someone stole very grey clouds and paste them to the walls. The first time Virgil got there he thought it was in renovations, but in reality, that was the aesthetic they decided to get.

Once he got his muffin and left. Virgil started walking while eating his chocolate muffin, he took out his phone and started scrolling through his social media. There were some pictures and artwork of several heroes, he always thought it was cute how some people show appreciation through art. Sometimes he even finds artwork for Mender, which makes him feel good and flustered. He closes the app to open Tumblr and starts scrolling down his dash; talking about fanart, Virgil has been looking through some pictures about an angel and a demon. He doesn’t know which show are those characters from but he finds them pretty awesome and the art is always amazing and really, really, really gay.  

-Wow, this is gay- he chuckles between bites.

Virgil continue walking when a sudden explosion caught his attention, making him drop the rest of his muffin and cover his ears. He look up and looked around, in the other side of the street there was a bank with smoke and panicked people coming out of it. Virgil frown and ran towards an alley, hiding behind a dumpster, he took off his hoodie and put it in his backpack, leaving it in the ground. Then he looked at the black belt he was wearing and with a push of a button in the center, tiny particles started to cover him up until his superhero uniform was complete.

He ran out of the alley and towards the bank, people were still running and screaming in terror, whatever or whoever was there it sure terrified everyone. Virgil, now Mender, enter the bank looking around in a cautious manner. He saw people on the floor, their eyes were glowing with a green spiral and wouldn’t move at all. Mender got close to one of them and pressed his fingers in their forehead, physically they were fine but they wouldn’t snap out of whatever trance they were in.

A sudden fit of laughter drag his attention towards the vaults, Mender stood up and walked carefully towards the cackles. The few people who weren’t in trance were still curled up, hiding under the counters. He got close to them and made them leave as quietly as possible, the people mouth a thank you when they passed beside him. Mender made sure they were out before getting closer.

He had a clear view of the vault. In the middle of the vault there was a man laughing, his attire looked like something a pompous prince would use. His garb and pants were completely black, he was also wearing…high heels?

Several ornaments were silver, except for a big almost transparent image of an octopus in his garb, which was a dark green, the tentacles surrounded the arms of the villain; it also seem he had… glitter all over his attire, as if a child throw a big bag of the finest glitter over him. A masquerade was covering his face, it was black with silver painting, with a couple feathers and a broken crown glued to it.

- Isn’t this a huge BOOTY?!- The man laughed while holding 2 bags together.

Mender moved his hand towards his belt to grab one of the gadgets, but suddenly felt a hand over his shoulder and a strong shock all over his body. It was a painful feeling, he thought he was going to die from it. He dropped to the ground hugging himself.

-Is this the best hero they got!? – Another man groan –How are we supposed to be well known and feared when they don’t even send the best of the best?- He then kick Mender in his side, making him lay in the ground.

Mender’s view was blurry, but he could see the other man walk over him. He wore black pants, boots with also high heels (what was wrong with this two?), his garb was white with golden ornaments, he wore red gloves and he was also wearing a masquerade but it was red with golden trimmings and a crown. It looked cleaner than the other man’s mask.

-Come on, brother! Cheer up! We can go buy whatever you want with this pair!- He hold the bags closer and moved his shoulders in a suggestive way. Mender was healing himself discreetly.  

-Could you act more mature for once?- The other man said

-You want mature? Sure! DICKS! BALLS! CU- The man with both bags is cut off by a tiny shock from the other man. –OUCH!-

-Let’s just leave already, shall we?-  

Mender manage to stood up and block their way out, to the surprise of both villains.

-Are you two new or what? - Mender said in a pissed off manner.

-Shit!! Didn’t you shock him? - Asked the man with the green attire, taken aback.

-I did!- The other man said, almost offended. –How are you standing up?!- He yelled.

-Why would I tell you, prep? - Mender sneered.

The man with black attire chuckled while the man in white gasped. – I AM A PRINCE, YOU EMO NIGHTMARE!- He charge his hand with electricity while Mender grabbed the yellow gadget from his belt. He throw it in the villains’ direction, the man with white attire hold back the attack and pushed his brother out of away. The man closed his eyes and covered himself waiting for that thing to explode or something, but nothing happened. He looked at Mender and laughed.

-Is that the best you have?! You’re pathetic- He raised his hand towards Mender and tried to summon electricity, he notices nothing coming from his hands. Mender crossed his arms and smirk.

-What’s the matter, princey? - Mender asked mischievous.

The man looked at his brother in bewilderment, they were confused and slightly afraid. The green attire man let go of the bags he was holding and ran towards Mender. Mender was thrown aback and quickly tried to hold on one of his gadgets, the villain was closed and he was waiting for a punch that never came. The green attire man placed a hand over his eyes and a green light was the only thing Mender saw.

Suddenly it was completely dark, Mender was walking in a dark street, and a fade light above him was the only source he had to see around. He felt several hands all over him, dragging him away from someone who was screaming his name and trying to get him. Then he saw how the man was being kicked and punch severely by other man. Mender was screaming horrified while still being dragged until everything was consumed by darkness.

Mender fell to his knees, he was sitting in the floor crying and panicking. The green attired villain sigh in relief while his brother was still confused.

-Ro?- The man asked the white attired man.

-Let’s go before he gets up again-

Both man grabbed 2 bags each of money and ran out of there, only the white attire man looking behind him for a few seconds before leaving the crime scene. Some minutes passed and 2 heroes got there, one chased the villains while the other walked inside the bank to make sure people were alright and to look for damages. She went towards each and every person and tried to wake them up from their stupor without avail. She then opt for throwing a bit of water in their faces which seem to work well, getting some very confused looks and a scream of horror before calming down.

She then walked towards the vault cautiously, finding Mender sat down without responding.

-Mender? - she said surprised, recognizing the young hero. She walked towards him. –Are you alright? Mender?- She crouch besides him and saw he was in the same state like the others victims so she splash a bit of water in his face and he was thrown aback, looking around in a complete panic.

-Wh-What??- His eyes were full of tears. Besides him, he saw the young hero from the other day, the girl with hydrokinesis?

-Are you ok, Mender? - She asked worried.

-I…I think so… Uh…- He tried to stand up but his legs were wobbling, she stood up and let her hand out so he could hold it, Mender hold it. –I’m… Sorry… I-I didn’t catch your… name- he said embarrassed.

-Real one or hero one? - She smiled

- Non … - He said rubbing his head, trying to get rid of the nightmarish sensation.

-Well, hero Flow at your service, Mr. Mender- She said cheerfully while extending her hand.

-Don’t call me Mr…I’m not that old…-He said with a half chuckle taking her hand. She smiled warmly.

Both heard the voices of the other victims so Flow ran out of the vault to attend to them. Mender stayed for a moment, looking around. They didn’t steal as much as he thought but that didn’t impede the guilt to crawl in his chest.

The villains got away, and it was his fault.

Flow made sure everyone was fine before starting with the questions, Mender walked towards her and the other people. The victims were confused and shaken, some were saying how they were feeling fear and paralyzed, others said it was like a never ending nightmare.

The other hero, named Bright Raven, flew over the bank. His body was covered in with light until he landed in the entrance. He went towards Flow and told her something before going towards Mender, who was attending a guard that was shocked by the villain in the white attire. Once the young hero finished, she walked away after saying “thank you”. Bright Raven got closer and placed a hand on Mender’s back making him jolt in surprise.

-Chill, M. It’s just me- said the hero.

Mender let out an exhale -Hey…-

Bright Raven sit down next to the young hero. The both looked at Flow while she was doing her job.

-She is very social…- Said Mender. –Did Dot assign her to you?-

-Yeah, she is very quirky but nice- Bright Raven said with a kind smile. He then looked at Mender while the other hero looked at the group of people. –She told me you were in trance-

Mender flinched. And look down embarrassed.

-Vee, are you ok? - The other hero asked, concern showing in his voice.

-Yeah- He said standing up.

-Hey- Bright Raven stood up and hold his arm. –It’s ok if you aren’t-

-I’m fine, N. - Mender said numbly –Let me go-

-You know I need to tell L about this, right? - He said in a serious manner.

-Don’t- Mender looked directly at his eyes.

-You know you shouldn’t be doing this alone, you didn’t call for back up- the older hero said without letting go.

Mender manages to pull his arm out of his grip. –Since when did you turn into a pain in the ass? – He groan and mumbled –First dad, then Dee, now you?-

-Vee- the other hero gets interrupted

-Not a word about this- Mender said pointing a finger at the other. He lower his face and looked down –Please-

Nate sighed. –Fine, but don’t do it again. You could have hurt yourself…Those two villains… they are a royal pain in the ass-

The older hero walked towards the group of people, Flow was already finishing up the questioning, all written down in a notebook she had.

“She came prepared for this? How cute.” Mender thought.

He walked out of the building and ran quickly, trying to avoid being looked by other people and the press. He went to the alley and got his backpack, he press the button in his belt and his suit was put away. Virgil rest his back in the wall and tried to take deep breaths, he was aghast. He didn’t expect this two villains to be so dangerous, he could have seriously been hurt way worse than any other time he tried to fight other villains.

However, the nightmare he has had for a while was clearer. Virgil felt he was close to knowing who was the man screaming his name. Now he knew it wasn’t Logan, he didn’t looked like Logan at all. If it was his “real” father, maybe he could search for him. It’s not that he doesn’t love Logan or that he wasn’t enough, but Virgil was and is curious to know where he came from. The story he was told about how he was found was weird, it was as if he came out of nowhere. He wanted to know more about his past and who his real father was.

Maybe if he fights this villains again and lets the green attire villain to trance him, he could get a clearer image of the man’s face… That’s the worst idea he has had ever… He should head home now, before any other shocking surprise happens…

 NIGHT:

At sundown, the heroes were at home. Logan was grading his students’ homework from last week in his office, while Virgil was in his bedroom decompressing from that day. He didn’t tell anyone what had happened and hope he wasn’t taken any photo. By now, they all ate and went on with their normal routines.

At 8, Logan would head out to the association and be back at 11 pm if there was nothing to be done or was forced by Dot to go home. Virgil would stay at least at 12 am trying to sleep and failing in the process, grabbing his phone and scrolling through tumblr. Now, the only one missing was Gregory, he usually would sleep the rest of the day away right after school or he would do any kind of chore around the department to avoid doing homework. He wasn’t very consistent on certain things, the only predictable thing he does is walking in the park at night.

Gregory grabbed his backpack and got out of the department, taking his keys with him. Most of the time he would walk around with no direction, just to decompress, other times he would bring his homework or a book and sit down in a bench. At midnight people would usually be at home, but not him. For some reason, he loved being in the darkness and reading with the help of the fade street light.

It was very dark except for the street lights that were glowing. Some had the distinctive orange hue of old age while others seem to be replaced by the white light. The night was the perfect temperature and no person was in sight, he went and sat down in a bench and took out one of Logan’s favorite books. He was ready to finish up the rest of “The Murder of Roger Ackroyd” when suddenly his phone buzzed. Thinking it was one of the other heroes or the association he picked it up, frowning at the name that appeared over the text. Gregory left it by his side and tried to concentrate in the book, but the phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Several messages took for Gregory to pick it up again and send an “Alright” before putting the book back in his bag and walking away from the park.

It wasn’t that late, at least around 9 or 10 pm, so taxis should still be around. Gregory waited in the sidewalk next to a taxi’s stops. He extended his arm when he saw one car approaching, the taxi slow down and stopped completely in front of him. The doors were unlocked and Gregory got inside.

-To where?- The driver asked.

-A bar call ¨The Others¨- Gregory said politely.

The driver nodded, he started the record and drove away while Gregory scrolled through his phone, checking his twitter for any kind of news or to see a post from any of the people he follows.

The news of the bank robbery pop up in his phone, a lot of people were talking about it and retweeting it. Gregory looked one tweet that had a link to the news article, he press it and he went to the web page. He looked through the pictures taken of the crime scene, there were no casualties but there was a lot of damage that would need to be taken care of. After scrolling more he looked at the pictures of Bright Raven (Nate) and Flow (Oh, the new girl…Morgan was it?). They seem to have taken care of the problem, except that no villain was caught. Gregory frown, he started to read one of the paragraphs describing how the heroes were late to stop the pair of villains who assaulted several people and manage to escape with at least 4 bags of money.

He looked through more photos to see which villains were, there was only one picture of the criminals that was taken by an amateur, it only showed one of the villains but it was good enough. Gregory could see the black attire and the masquerade as well as a mustache, the villain looked like a bad guy from one of those old western movies where the villain wore a black hat and looked disheveled.

He continue scrolling and read one quote of one the victims. It said:

¨All this suppose heroes are useless!! The first hero couldn’t even fight back and the other 2 got late!! They have only one job and they can’t do it properly! ¨

Gregory raised an eyebrow in confusion. ¨3 heroes were at the bank?¨ he thought. He looked around the page to search if there was any picture of the other hero. In text, the first hero was mention a couple times but no name or picture was given. ¨That´s weird… I´d have to ask Nate tomorrow. ¨

The taxi parked in the front of the bar.

-That’d be 10.56- the driver said, looking at him through the mirror.

-Thanks- Gregory said while taking out 11 dollars, he gave it to the driver and he got off. The taxi drove away.

The street was really dark, the street light weren’t enough to light the whole place. The bar was a different story. It had a big bright neon sign and several white lamps illuminating the entrance. You could see this place from afar like it was a lighthouse. Music was so loud it could be heard from outside and several people were leaving the place very intoxicated.

Gregory sighed and walked towards the entrance where he was stopped by the security guard.

-ID?- the security guard asked.

Gregory took out his wallet to get his ID, he show it to the security guard who gave him a wary glare before letting him enter. The hero walked between the people who were dancing to the music playing in the background, it was very uncomfortable due to some being very intoxicated or sweaty or both.

He continue walking until he got the bar and sat down in one of the stools. Gregory looked around and saw the people dancing while screaming incoherent non sense, probably trying to sing the lyrics of the song. In the darkest parts of the establishment, some people were actually talking in individual tables.

-What can I get you?- Gregory jumped from the sudden sound. In the waves of loud noises, the server’s voice pierced through all.  

-Just water- he said composing himself. The server went away and came back with a glass of cold water.

Before Gregory could sip the cold drink, a hand smacked his back and it was accompanied with a loud yell.

-GURL! What is this nonsense!?-

Gregory cough up the water that now was in his lungs and tried to look to his side. A man with a white ripped shirt and jeans, wearing a pair of sunglasses was sitting next to him, smiling mischievously. He was holding a jacket over his shoulder.

-4 shots! And a sex in the beach- said in a cheerful tone.

The server smiled and rolled their eyes and went ahead to do the order.

-Wow… You really don���t want to get home tonight…- Gregory said still coughing lightly, cleaning the water with a napkin.

-What are you talking ‘bout? The 4 shots are for you!- said the man, still smiling. His back was towards the server and was looking at the people dancing around.

-Thanks, but no- Gregory said while drinking water carefully, glancing over the guy for any kind of surprise.

-Come on!! You used to shove a whole bottle! What happened to the fun Deceit?- He almost yelled.

Gregory shoot a glare at him, placing the water down.

-I sometimes wonder how we’re even alive. A presume your identity is known by everyone in the city at this point- he glared seriously at the man.

-They wished! I change people’s lives for the best!- he said sitting to look at the server, who brought the drinks and placed them in front of both men.

-Here ya’ go, babe!- The man pushed the shots towards Gregory who kept glaring daggers. The other man started drinking his beverage as if it was the last. He placed his half empty glass down and looked at Gregory who was still glaring and not grabbing any shot.

-FINE! I guess I’ll drink by myself tonight! - He hold one of the shots and shove it down, coughing afterwards and laughing.

-Why did you wanted to see me, Remy?- Gregory asked unamused and annoyed.

Remy looked at him, taken aback by the tone. –Can’t I just call up my little old ex-partner in crime and hang out in our favorite spot?- He smiled cheerfully.

- No, this is way too risky - He said while looking at his water.

The other man gave an airy laugh. –If it was that risky, you wouldn’t have come Mr. Reformed- Remy laughed while mixing one of the shots in his beverage. Gregory pulled his drink away and gave Remy his cold water.

-Hey!- Remy yelled. –I was drinking that!!-

-Not anymore- Gregory hold the drink and took a sip, wincing at the taste, it was bitter and strong.

-Sheesh- Remy said while drinking the water slowly. They sit there, the sound of the music and chats surrounding them.

There was nothing much to talk about, they have known each other for a while. Always sticking up and taking care of each other; some friendships would end when one takes another path in life, but not this one.

Remy wasn’t happy at all to know his best friend was capture, practically stripped away from him, and hell knows he was not at all happy when Gregory was now playing for the good guys. Gregory did tried to convince Remy to turn around a new leaf but he wouldn’t budge. After several fights from both sides, they just gave up on fighting each other. They didn’t find any pleasure on doing so anyway.

Remy knew he was still his friend after Gregory let him, well Sleep, escape after one of his robbery plans went wrong. Some heroes were already suspicious of Gregory, they didn’t buy that the villain knock him out. His powers should have been enough to defeat the bad guy, but he didn’t. From that point on, Gregory and Remy had to find ways to see each other. They still maintain communication through calls and messages, but they couldn’t go anyplace together in fear of putting each other in danger. At least Gregory feared that, Remy didn’t give a fuck whether he was caught or not, he find tricky ways to slip out of the law’s grip. It wasn’t exactly a surprise Remy wanted to hang out or something of the sorts, but his insistence on the matter was what made Gregory accept to meet up.

Now, if something Gregory knows very well about the both of them is that they like their drinks. He had stopped drinking when Logan caught him in the act. He had to learn other ways to cope from his past situations, Gregory actually got better on that matter so it wasn’t that bad. Remy did had more control than him, however, when a difficult or really bad situation arrived, he would drink and drink until he was blackout drunk instead of talking about what was troubling him.

-What’s wrong? - Gregory said firmly.

-What? - Remy looked at his friend with a half-smile, a bit surprised by the question.

-What’s wrong? – Gregory asked again. -You wanted to see me all of the sudden and you tried to get alcohol poison a few minutes ago-

-It was just a drink and 2 shots!! By the way, mine!- Remy went to hold one of the shots but Gregory hit his hand. Remy rolled his eyes and went to grab the water instead.

-Remy- He hold his friend’s shoulder. –What’s wrong? - He looked at him in his eyes, his tone was serious and he had a concern look. Remy notice the expression in his friend’s face, he then looked away and to the glass of water. He was quiet for a moment. He gulped.

-Something is going to happen…- Remy said stumbling through his words.  

-What?-

-I heard your friends capture Crimson- Remy stated, nonchalantly. His face reflect numbness.

-Yeah, they did- Gregory said. He wanted to tell him about the whole ordeal, but he couldn’t disclose any information due to Remy’s gossipy nature.

-You should have done so sooner…- Remy started to sip the water.

-What do you mean?- Gregory replied quickly, baffled by that respond. He waited for Remy to place the glass down.

-He hasn’t talked yet?- Remy kept his eyes on the glass.  

-No… L- He paused. -Syllogism was supposed to question him tonight or tomorrow…- So close, even saying a name could be dangerous.

-Well… Let’s just say, the bad guy he was working for is really fucked up…- Remy said with a nervous chuckle.

-I need you to be clearer than that, Rem…-

-Look, I’d tell you more but I really don’t know much about this boss guy. One time one of his zombies got in my house, Greg. MY HOUSE! I don’t even know how they knew who I was or where I lived- He passed his hand through his hair, and shuffled it.

“His”? So it’s a man...

-What do you mean by zombie? What did he wanted?- Gregory asked, paying close attention to what his friend was saying.

- The zombie guy wasn’t talking. He had a loudspeaker stick to his chest. He looked really, really fucking pale, and his eyes were sky blue. Not like normal blue eyes, his eyes were glowing blue. It was fucking creepy, he was acting like a fucking zombie. GOD, IT WAS SO FUCKING WEIRD! - Remy shook his hands as if to get rid of the chills sensation.  

-What did he wanted?-

-He wanted me to work for him, to use my powers to bring people somewhere. He didn’t say a location, I had to agree before he said anything else- He hold the glass of water closely.

-Did you accept?!- Gregory was confused and worried.

-FUCK NO! HE WAS BEING A CREEP! WHO IN THE FUCK GETS IN YOUR BEDROOM AT 2 IN THE MORNING!?- Remy shivered. –At least he didn’t insist and went away. Still! I had to move the fuck away from there, fuck that!!-

-I suppose you don’t know why he is kidnapping people…- Gregory asked almost disappointed to not know more information.

-From what I’ve heard from other… Comrades…- He said almost in a mumbled. –He wants to do like… An army of sorts… I mean, I could see it in his messenger but no one knows why he needs it- Remy then drink more water and put it in front of his friend.

-Alright…- Gregory said, it was a lot of information to process.

At least they got one villain out of the streets, but if what Remy is said was completely true, and not a very bad hallucination with a type of drug, then somewhere, out there in the city, was a very creepy, dangerous man planning to strike. Why, how, where and when were the questions that aren’t going to get a clear answer that night. They had to wait and see.

–I’m glad you text me for this… If you need protection or anything I could try to convince Logan to help you out…- Gregory stated and sip the mixed drink a bit.  

Remy turned his head slowly and a wide smile started to form in his face -…Who’s Logan…?-

FUCK. –No one…- He said nonchalantly.

-Is it one of your hero friends?- He gasped – Is he hot?-

Gregory started to blush. –No! He’s just a friend!-

-Bitch, song as old as time! You can’t deceive your best friend, I know all your dirty secrets and can read you like an open book!- Remy laughed. As quick as the tension came, as quick as it dissipated.

Gregory was blushing profusely and banged his head in the counter, he covered himself with his arms while his friend was laughing. The sound of the bar was very alive; the lights were very shiny and people were still drinking and dancing, everyone was in their own business. Time was passing by, and both friends were now catching up in their usual lives, their normal lives. No hero duty, no villainy plots. Just life itself.

Gregory and Remy drank the two last shots in one quick swung before they had to part ways again, back to their work, studies, hero and villain lives. They should hang out more frequently, Gregory would be lying if he say he didn’t miss the old days. He was very happy where he was, Virgil and Logan were also his friends now too but Remy was his friend first and it did sting a bit to not see him as frequently as they used to. At least Remy knows when to step out of trouble, and that gave Gregory some sort of comfort.

Prologue/ CH 1/ CH 2 / CH 3 / CH 4

TAG LIST:

@thatweriddoodlingllama

[sanders-specs]

Dunno if this counts as a main ship, since it technically isn't even Sanders Sides, but Remile (Remy[Sleep]/Emile Picani)?? Like pining, best friends Remile with a happy ending??? Pls consider. Thanks. If not, thanks anyway.

Childhood Friends 

A/N: So…i don’t know how i feel about this? My writing, not the prompt This is the first time i’ve really written these characters so they’re not perfect. I just hope all you Remile fans enjoy it. Also I’m just going to put my general tag list on here, though if i need to make a separate one for non Sanders Sides stories just let me know. 

Warnings: alcohol (they only get lightly tipsy) (if i need to add anything else, please let me know) 

tag list: @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @dan-yuna @tripleaaaqueer @lilbeanblr @helloisthisusernametaken @justanotherpurplebutterfly @alwaysmy-lilith @ilylogan @logically-trans @seas-space-and-stardust @generalfandomfabulousness @arentordinaryvillainsadorable @nico-holly

Remy strolled into the large office building, his bodyrelaxed and his messenger bag bouncing lightly against his leg. He leaned overthe reception desk and smiled at the secretary, pushing his sunglasses to thetop of his head. “Here to see Picani. You know the drill.”

The secretary—Judith, her nametag read—rolled her eyes. “Dr.Picani is currently in the middle of a session with a patient. I’ll let himknow you’re here when it is over.”

Remy groaned but he knew better than to argue—he didn’t blamethe people who needed Emile’s help, he just hated waiting. He sauntered intothe waiting room and slumped down in a chair, pulling out his phone to scrollthrough Tumblr while he waited.

“Do you know Dr. Picani?” someone in the waiting room asked.  Remy looked up to see a kid decked out inmostly black and greys, complete with a little bit of eyeliner, watching him.

“You could say that,” Remy said. “We grew up together.”

The kid raised their eyebrows. “Wow…”

“What?”

“You just don’t strike me as a pair that would work together.”

Remy smirked. “Yeah, we get that a lot.”

“So uh, can I ask what his deal is with cartoons?”

Remy glanced over at them. Emile had been pretty clear thatin times like these he didn’t want Remy talking too much about him to hispatients. Then again, this question was something Remy was pretty used toanswering.

“He just likes cartoons,” Remy shrugged, “always has. Thesame way some people really like certain kinds of music or movies.”

The kid nodded, though Remy could tell that wasn’t theanswer they were hoping for. Oh well, that was all they were going to get.Emile didn’t like his patients knowing too much about him, or anything abouthim, really, unless they specifically asked, or it related to whatever issuesthe patient needed to work out. Something about it conflicted with work.

Just then, another kid (who was he kidding, these peoplewere probably around the same age as him, but just about everyone looked like akid to him) came down the hallway, Emile following behind them.

“I still stand by the fact that Inside Out is the best,” thepatient said.

“Clearly it’s Wall-E,” Emile said, shaking his head. He sawRemy, then and grinned. “Remy! Please tell this young man that Wall-E is thefar better Pixar movie.”

“Sorry doc, that goes to Ratatouille.”

“You’re biased because the main character has your name!”

“Hell yeah I am,” Remy said with a smirk.

“I like Brave,” eyeliner kid muttered.

Emile sighed. “You’re all crazy.”

“Says the psychologist,” Remy said, getting to his feet.

Emile only gave him a fond look before turning back to hispatient. “I’ll see you next month Kai, and maybe try re-watching a movie or two.”

Kai was already headed towards the door. “It’s not gonnachange my mind.” They called before leaving.

“Well it was worth a try,” Emile said, smoothly turning tothe other patient. “Elliot, I’ll be with you as soon as I finish filing awayKai’s notes.”

“I don’t have any place else to be.”

“…okay you’re being serious, I wasn’t sure for a moment.”

Remy cleared his throat. Emile looked at him. “And Remy,what can I do for you? As happy as I am to see you, I don’t really have muchtime…”

Remy held up a hand. “I know, I was on my way home from ajob and thought I’d stop by to give you this,” he handed Emile a Starbucks cupof hot chocolate, “and this,” he dug through his bag to find what he waslooking for. It was a Steven Universe blind bag, which he handed over to his excitedlooking friend.

Emile grinned. “Aw, thanks Rem!” he threw his arms aroundRemy, making the other boy blush.

“Ah, um, yeah, anything for you. thought you’d like it.Anyway, I should get going, let you get back to work.”

“Oh, come by later! We need to catch up.”

“Yeah, sounds good. See ya later doc.” Remy flicked hissunglasses back into place. “Later babes.” He shot finger guns at Judith andElliot before sauntering out of the building, whistling.

“Alright Elliot, what would you like to start with today?” Emileasked as he sat down in his chair and Elliot sat on the couch across from him.

“was that your boyfriend? That Remy guy?”

Emile looked up in surprise at that. “Remy? Oh, no, we’re justgood friends.”

“Oh. I was just asking because you kinda looked likeboyfriends.” Elliot shrugged, but there was a small almost knowing smirk ontheir face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Elliot. Buuuuuutspeaking of boyfriends, how are you and Mitchell?”

“Deflective much,” Elliot muttered.

“I could say the same to you.”

“Elliot…”

“I know, I know, sorry. Just saying.”

“Well i appreciate your concern, but we’re here to talk aboutyou. Now, let’s talk about why Brave is your favorite Pixar movie…”

After his last patient, Emile closed the door to his officeto finish up sorting through all his notes, though his mind wasn’t really onthe filing. He was thinking about Remy, and about what Elliot had said. Emilealways thought he was good at reading body language and tone, but Remy was alwaysso…complicated. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they’d beenfriends for so long that Remy had learned how to evade Emile’s careful gaze.

Still, though, he would think that he would know if his bestfriend was interested in him romantically…right?

Emile bit his lip as he put away the last file, then startedgathering his things to go home.

It wasn’t like Emile didn’t like Remy, he did. they’d beenfriends for as long as he could remember, and it was probably around highschool when he realized how much he liked Remy. He hadn’t been able to talk tohim about it, though, since Remy had a boyfriend at the time. then they went tocollege and Emile focused entirely on getting his doctorate degree. That andusing his newfound freedom to buy every toy and plushie he’d ever wanted as achild.

Sighing, Emile slung his bag over his shoulder and walked outof the office.

Remy lounged on Emile’s couch, a glass of wine in hand. He’dbeen waiting for Emile to get home for at least an hour. He was tempted to callhim and ask what was taking so long, but that would defeat the purpose ofsurprising him.

Maybe coming to his house when he wasn’t there wasn’t thebest idea, but Remy had been bored at his apartment. Besides, it wasn’t likethis was a new thing. They had a habit of dropping by each other’s places somuch that they both just have a spare key. They hadn’t been able to visit for awhile, though, both of them being too busy. Sometimes, Remy hated that his jobmade him travel around a lot. He did miss his friend a lot when he was gone.

Remy sighed and closed his eyes. For a moment, he let hisconfident, sassy, façade drop. He was…very tired. He desperately needed sometime with his friend, even if being with said friend brings up weird,complicated feelings. Like how Remy’s heart had fluttered when Emile had huggedhim earlier, or how all Remy wanted to do was be with him.

Maybe he really was catching feelings for Emile, but he wasn’treally sure. Ever since his last breakup, he hadn’t really wanted to be withanybody else.

Suddenly, Remy heard a key in the lock. He sat up, slippinghis sunglasses over his eyes.

“Remy!” Emile exclaimed, coming in. “I thought that was yourcar. What are you doing here? Don’t you have work in the morning?”

“Nah, I rescheduled all my appointments tomorrow for anotherday. I need a personal day.”

“Personal days are important,” Emile said, nodding with approval.“Any reason why?”

Remy pushes his glasses down a little so he could look overthem at Emile. “Don’t try to psychoanalyze me doc.”

Emile laugh and throws his bag down beside the couch,plopping down next to him. “What, I can’t ask my friend what’s wrong?”

Remy smirked and pushed his glasses back up, sipping hiswine. “To answer your question, I’ve been trying to save up some money for anew place, so I’ve been working a lot.”

“Oh, finally?’

Remy rolled his eyes and lightly shoved Emile, who justlaughed. Remy took a swig of his wine, trying to ignore how much he reallyliked Emile’s laugh.

“Oh! Also, I thought we could have a movie night,” Remysaid, picking up the remote and turning the TV on, where a Disney logo was onpause.

Emile raised his eyebrows. “Let me guess, Ratatouille?”

“You know,” Remy smirked. “Mister Wall-E-is-the-best-Pixar-movie.You and I both know you don’t have a favorite. It’d be like picking your favoritechild.”

“But it is a good way to get patients to open up,” Emilesaid, pouring himself a glass of wine in the cup Remy had set out for him.

“I’ve taught you well,” Remy said, throwing an arm aroundhim and raising his glass.

Emile clinked his glass against Remy’s and leaned againsthim. “Don’t brag, I did go to school for this you know.”

“But how did we become friends?”

Emile just rolled his eyes. “Just play the movie.”

Chuckling, Remy did as he was told and pulled Emile closer againsthim, and he tried not to smile too much when Emile just snuggled against him.

About halfway through the movie, Emile sat up and paused it.He was feeling a little warm and fuzzy from the wine, and he had something hewanted to ask Remy.

“Everything okay? Why’d you pause it?” Remy asked. His cheekswere a little flushed too, though Emile doubted he was as tipsy as Emile was.

“Can I ask you something?” Emile asked, propping his chin onRemy’s shoulder.

“uh, yeah, sure, whatever you want,” Remy said, his cheeks reddeninga little.

“How come we never dated?”

Remy sat up at that, making Emile sit up too. “Where’s this comingfrom?”

“It’s been on my mind.”

Remy set down his glass and leaned back, his eyes stillhidden by his sunglasses, but Emile got the feeling that he was deep in thought.

“Well,” Remy started, “I never really knew if you wanted to.”

Emile tilted his head slightly. “And you were dating Jax.”

Remy frowned. “I dated Jax in high school…”

“And through college,” Emile propped his head on his hand. “Everyonethought you two would get married. And you loved each other. I know. I’m adoctor.”

Remy let out a small laugh. “Yeah…yeah I did love him youknow how it ended…”

“Yeah.” Jax had cheated on Remy, something that had surprisedjust about everyone.

“I guess the real question is, why didn’t you ever ask meout after Jax and I broke up?” Remy asked, resting his arm on the back of thecouch.

“Thought you didn’t like me.”

“Well I do.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

Emile sat up and leaned forward. He gently reached up and tookRemy’s sunglasses off of him. His eyes were wide and gave away just how nervousthe other boy was. “Can I kiss you?”

Remy leaned away a little. “Emile, maybe we should talk whenwe’re both more sober.”

Emile pouted. “I’m still plenty in control of my actions.”

“Still…”

“Are you scared?” Emile asked, smirking. Remy gulped. Emilegently took his hand and kissed it. “Don’t be. We can wait if you want. I’vewaited long enough for you.”

“Cheesy much?”

“Cheesy breezy.”

Remy chuckled. “Why don’t we finish the movie?”

“Mkay.”

Remy wrapped his arm around Emile and played the movie.

Two movies and a whole pizza later, Remy was gathering histhings to head home.

“You sure you’re good to drive?”

“The food sobered me up Milly I’m fine,” Remy said, rollinghis eyes.

“I’m just saying, you can stay here if you want.”

Remy smirked. “You sure that’s the only reason you want meto stay?”

Emile’s face flushed, which Remy had to admit was very, verycute.

He had to admit that he was more the pleased by theirearlier conversation. They’d spend the past few hours cuddling and commentatingon the movies, and just in general pretending they hadn’t just confessed theirfeelings fro each other while they’d both been a little tipsy.

“I’ll be fine,” Remy said, squeezing Emile’s arm. He turnedto go, but Emile caught his arm before he could take a single step away.

“I meant what I said earlier Rem,” He said, his eyesdowncast.

Remy smiled and stepped towards him, lifting his chin andpressing their lips together.

The kiss was sweet, and a little uncertain. This was new forboth of them, but somehow neither of them minded. They’d waited this long foreach other after all.

When they pulled away there was a huge grin on both of theirfaces.

“I think I could stay a little while longer,” Remy said witha smirk.

[franeridart]

Hey! So sorry if you already answered this but what application and tablet do you use??

I use Easy Paint Tool SAI and a pretty old wacom intuos tablet! Both questions are answred in my faq, actually~

Anon said:You. You awesome person. You are my new fav artist. 💘💘💘

AW thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:I love your art and the style, it’s all so cute and it might give me a heart attack

He c k let’s hope not! Thank you so so much!!! ;^;

Anon said:hey, can ya do more tokage, pls

Sure, I mean to draw more 1B in the future anyway~

Anon said:nori is soo adorable!! I love your art and seromina so much and seeing them combined makes me mega happy!!! I gotta ask though, how are sero and mina as parents and how do they handle nori’s quirk?

They’re disasters as parents but they try their best and are always having fun - Nori adores them! In their house not a minutes goes by without someone laughing, they’re all super loud and cheerful always~ neither of them has any problem dealing with Nori’s quirk, Sero has spent a whole lifetime learning how to deal with sticky stuff and tape and glue so he knows all the tricks to save clothes and furniture from accidental quirk usage and so on, while Mina’s own quirk makes it easy to counter any glue that might end on her - the main thing actually is that the quirk itself was a surprise! Since Nori looks a lot like Mina, both she and Sero had expected her to have acid like Mina so when she started gluing herself around in places and walking along walls and stuff it was a surprise (they had expected to have to deal with the house being constantly half destroyed by acid though, so glue is nothing compared to that haha)

Anon said:Heyy I saw your twitter account and was wondering if you could link some of those “fics about them boys sharing a bed..“ I’ve been following you for a while now and absolutely love your work (: I hope you don’t mind lol. I need more kiribaku in my life gahaha ❤️ thanks !!

I didn’t really bookmark any and most were old things I had read in the past and spent time rereading lately, but the newest one I read is this one - honestly though at this point 99% of the fics set in the dorms have them sharing a bed, you just need to open ao3 and scroll down less than a page to find stuff lol

Anon said:If you’re not an Adventure Time fan this ask will make no sense to you (so skip it), but when I saw your drawing of Katsuki with a guitar, I immediately thought he was singing some edgy Marceline song, like the teasing-aggressive “I wanna bury you in the ground / I wanna bury you with my sound” (which he actually says at some point I think XD) or the romantic and melancholic “Slow Dance with You” and Eijirou M-E-L-T-S.

Not an AT fan, but the concept is adorable so I’m keeping the ask anyway

Anon said:Do you think you might draw more of your fantasy AU children while you’re playing with you’re new pencil tool? It would be neat if you did! Regardless, I’m grateful for anything you draw!

Yup! Can’t promise when it’ll happen but I love the fantasy AU and I love childhood friends AU, so the chances of me going back on it are pretty high!

Anon said:Are you going to draw Mako and Taiyou again? They are so wonderful.

YAH that’s definitely in the near future plans! Thank you for liking them!!

Anon said:I just…I love all your art. It’s so amazing you’re awesome

THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!! ;^;

Anon said:Stavo scorrendo il tuo blog e ho notato che hai risposto ad una domanda in italiano? Ho seriamente pensato fossi inglese tutto questo tempo! Amo seriamente i tuoi disegni, i tuoi oc sono meravigliosi e non vedo l'ora di scoprire più di loro.

AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH grazie infinite omfg ;^; specialmente per i miei oc, è sempre incredibile per me sapere che alla gente piacciono abbastanza da volerli vedere di più ;^;

Anon said:Hewwo! I’m a huge fan of your artwork!! I was wondering if you have any time could you draw some more of those dorm room scenarios?

Anon I’m sorry but I need you to be more specific, which dorm room scenarios are you talking about? Most of my comics at this point are set in the dorms hahaha

Anon said:I just noticed that on every artwork you sign “do not repost” and I hate it.I don’t hate that you do it, but the fact you NEED to do it. Artists all over the Internet say to not repost their art but people still do it…I hope this will stop someday Sorry for my english btw

Yeah well, I guess as long as people keep on following and giving notes to reposters that’s not really gonna change is it orz

Anon said:You should draw Present Mic x Aizawa *awkward finger guns*

Hell I really should, shouldn’t I

Anon said:my god im gay for your kiribaku like they’re so good aibdjsbsknwnx and i love the interactions between the bakusquad ahh keep being awesome :)

HECK THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!

Anon said:Honestly, this might be an odd question I don’t know, but would you ever consider putting your art together in a art book to sell? Cause to be honest, there’s not a piece by you that I don’t adore and I’ve seen some artist do things like that before so I didn’t know if that was something you’d consider. Maybe like all your BNHA pieces or something?

It’s not like I never considered it? It’s more like I dunno how worth all the work to figure out how to make it/where to print it and then to actually make it would be compared to the interest people would have in buying something they can have for free on my blog? It’s just doodles after all haha

Anon said:Would you be willing to draw a little lavi (dgm) doodle for me? Anything tiny, I just love him and your art!!!

I’m not doing requests right now, sorry, but soon enough the new chapter is coming out so I might draw him around then!!! I always fall in a serious dgm mood around the time of the chapter release haha

Anon said:More abuse of the ask function: 1- I love your art and have been for months. On top of that, it often feels cathartic, which is amazing to me. 2- I love how balanced you can make KiriBaku. You even manage to make me appreciate that overrated attention hogger that is Bakugou, you can handle him so much better than the author, because your character dynamics make so much more sense!! 3- I always, ALWAYS find myself reading through all your tags. They’re awesome. Thank you for everything.//Avevo finito lo spazio nell'ask precedente, so I’d only like to add that aside from cutie-smoochy (“It’s not about whether you break” and “I don’t need you” might be my favorite, and for what’s worth, I remember writing something exactly like the latter in the past), you also make mu burst into laughter. Like, the comic where Katsuki is about to out Eijirou on his red hair, I am still rolling. Kiri’s giant mouth is seriously hysterical XD

Thank you for the compliments!! I’m glad I can make you like a character and a relationship you’re not much of a fan of in the actual manga? ? ? Bakugou’s actually one of my favorite characters ever though so………. maybe……….don’t offend him and the way Horikoshi writes him while talking to me………….orz

Anon said:I am starved for Bakukamikiri stuff in this fandom……..But you got some good shit.

I’m!!! happy to be able to help there!!!! haha

Anon said:They mama Mitsuki art you drew 👏💯💖☺️💕👌 I love your art so much

THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Yessssss you have Twitter! It is boring at the beginning but then you’ll love it! I can’t wait to see you here and there! Now all my Bakushima favorite artist have one I can die of happiness!!

I’m!!!!!!!!!! Still trying to figure it out but!!!!!!!! For now it’s not that bad? Just!!! Very different from tumblr so I’ll need to get used to it first!!!!

Anon said:Omg do u shade jirous hair like its a heartbeat line? Dhdisbdisb thats so fuckibg good

THANK she actually has it in canon too, tho, so I can’t take credit for this!!!

Anon said:Im crying on how you draw kirishima’s soft hair

S O B I’m glad you like it!! ;^;

Anon said:Can I ask what your stance is on bakugo’s mom being abusive and sorry if you’ve answered this before

I love Mitsuki with my whole heart and while I don’t think she’s perfect I do think she’s loving and caring and trying her best and always looking out for what’s best for Bakugou 👍 no abuse anywhere, for me

Anon said:OMG I LOVE SEROMINA LOVE CHILD NORI

Thank you for liking her???? heck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:I wish I could use your art for my phone’s background ;^; You’re amazing! I love youuuuuuuuuu

No one’s stopping you from doing that, anon!!! Unless you don’t have a phone that allows you backgrounds, in which case ;-; thank you for liking my stuff that much tho!!

Anon said:Hey! I followed you way back when your main output was haikyuu!! comics and once you started putting out more bnha, i had to unf because i had no idea who everyone was rip. but now that ive finally had the chance to watch it i’m glad to come back and see how much you’ve improved!

HECK THANK YOU???? I’m glad you decided to come back????? oh man that’s super flattering !!!

Anon said:Yolo bakusquad bakubowl ?

I don’t really like the whole concept of [character]bowl, sorry!

Anon said:I absolutely adore your art style😍 every time I see your art it makes me happy:)

THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Can you draw Hawks and Tokoyami together? You are rlly creative and amazing! So I believe you will produce sth. awesome!!!! (If you don’t want to draw Hawks, could you draw a Tokoyami fusion?)

I can draw that! I’m just waiting to know how tall Hawks is compared to him before doing that 👍 be patient pls relative heights are something I’m stupidly fussy about 

Anon said:Burn the whole world to ashes for you? R U serius?! You always killing me dude. I ascended to the heaven of soft things. I N C R E D I B L E. Im sorry for the break down, i was without tumblr 2 months and the firts thing i do is go to your profile. Keep doing this plis im trully love it 😭💖

mAN I’m so glad you liked that one this much, drawing the boys being unreasonably soft with each other is my fav thing to do tbh !!!

Anon said:Omg I can totally imagine Nori and bakushima’s daughter being friends!!!

THEY ARE !!!!!!!

Anon said:Your seromina is amazing!!! I love that ship I feel like it is so underrated! Thank you for this blessed image!! 😭

No prob!! thank you for liking it!!!!!!! I’ve been in such a seromina mood lately, I might actually draw more soon enough!!

Anon said:Omg imagine a Tetsuwase love child. Something tells me they’d be adorable and one rather angry child, considering who their fathers are

I can see them as being quiet and grumpy………. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Anon said:Hey just wanted to tell you I love your art. It’s so soft and beautiful. My dad doesn’t ship any characters from the series, but he does like the series and he thinks your art and style are really pleasing. We were talking about how nicely you shade and that the style is well developed and lovely to look at. Thanks for making such great art that makes me smile and giving me and my dad yet another thing to bond over.

YO THAT’S SUCH A COOL THING TO HEAR!!!! Thank you to both you and your dad for liking my stuff????? h e c k !!!!!

Anon said:Thanks to you I started reading haikyuu.

I hope you’re enjoying it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 2

'Beep' Harper sat up straight in bed, what? What? Owww headache, aw aw aw, she grabbed her head and slowly lowered herself into the cushions again, this hangover was gonna be brutal if the hammering in her head was any indication. Think of nothing, in fact let yourself slide into this refreshing and revitalizing little nap, you deserve it! You haven't got a massive amount of work to be done, oh no, little leprechauns are real, believe in their existence and they will do the painting for you, believeeeee! Her eyes shot open again, as a ringtone burst through her attempt at self-hypnosis, ignore it, ignore..it, it'll go away, she mumbled and quite content with her self-fulfilling prophecy, she leaned back as the phone stopped ringing, only to start up again 5 seconds later. “Why did I let him talk me into this?” she groaned as she got up to find the intruder buzzing and twirling around on her table, “Hello” she moaned in agony from her splitting headache. “Hey babe, it's me..Sean!” his quirky voice irritated her already, “Sean, hey, first of all, never call me babe, second, why are you even calling me?“. On the other side of the line there were a few seconds of silence, swallowing his dissapointment he stammered “well, I thought you would like to know that me and the boys just landed at LAX..” hearing him this way, made her cringe, she really didn't mean to rain on his parade, “anyway..how are you?” he barely dared to ask. “I'm ok, just a little hung over..” she said as she looked at her paintings “oh, I wanted to thank you for the webpage, I've got my first e-mail from a possible buyer last night” she quickly added, not wanting to sound like a total bitch. “That's fantastic news” she heard Sean get barely excited on the other side of the country, “It is, I just can't put a price tag on them though, so I was thinking..could you send me a list?” she bit her lip, she hated him having to help her with all this commercial and digital stuff. “Sure..yeah I'll send you the list by e-mail” he answered without too much enthusiasm, this was such a weird conversation “listen, I've gotta go now..guess you'll hear me when you'll hear me” by the end of that sentence, all kindness in his voice had gone, “yeah, ok..well..you have a great time, which I know you all will, just..take good care of yourself, you hear?” she quickly added, she wasn't good at goodbyes, not even when they were done by phone, they just made her feel awkward. “I will..bye” he sighed and disconnected the call, why did he even let himself think that she was actually gonna miss him? Or that she was even remotely interested in this big adventure that was about to start for him? All she could talk about was that damn work of her, nothing or no-one else mattered to her.

Jared opened his eyes, last night's conquest still next to him, what? Oh no no, this wasn't the deal, all those kind of women needed to leave before their scent could penetrate his sheets, he hated having to wake them up and tell them to leave, and with this one he didn't even remember a name, that's how uneventful last night had been. He pushed himself up from the bed and pulled the sheet away, the coolness of morning touching her naked skin woke her up “hey..” she mumbled as she squinted her eyes, “hey yourself, it's time to leave, I've got things to do, so I'm gonna go and have a cup of coffee and you'll be gone when I come back” he threw the sheet on the floor and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. He didn't turn around when he walked out of his bedroom, why would he? He had seen more than enough of her already, his phone vibrated back to life while he hopped down the stairs and into his kitchen, switching on the kettle he scrolled through his e-mails, until his thumb rested on the one of the painter he contacted yesterday, ah, maybe there was a price list that he added. No prices..goddammit, was he trying to stall things? He read the last e-mail again: 'what drew you to my paintings?', well that was easy!

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Re:re Paintings

That's easy, they're refreshing and original, ultraclean lines, depth and a little surreal! So, how about some prices, say I would start with the smallest of the whole collection? Surely you can give me an indication of the price range?

If you're not on social media, are you at least registered with any galleries? Are you based in LA? The reason I'm asking all these questions, is because I can't find you anywhere on the internet, what does HC stand for? Henry? Horatio?

Impatient Regards

BJL

Just when she was about to get back to work, that damn phone bleeped again, oh..another e-mail..her fingers nervously clicked and scrolled.

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: Re:re:re Paintings

Thanks for the compliments! Am I based in LA? No painter or artists that respects him- or herself is based in LA, that city puts people to sleep, because it has no edge, no challenges, no electricity! That's why I'm living and working in New York, and no I'm not registered yet at any gallery, like I said my assistant is out of town, but if you want a price for N°1 (the smallest 'Baroque') you're looking at 500$.

Funny you should mention Horatio, because that is my Dad's name, and even funnier that you immediately think I'm a man, which I'm not by the way, but I'm guessing you are?

Regards,

Coco

Harper Coco was her real name, but she didn't really like Harper, she used to get bullied because of it at school, Sean somehow always called her Harper..and her Dad, even though she didn't know if he even remembered having a daughter, how long had she not spoken to him? 4 years? Ever since she decided that his aristocratic world was not exactly the one she wanted to live in and so she fled the nest as soon as she graduated from art school. Needing to push those bad memories away, she cranked up the music and crawled up her scaffolding, no external distractions allowed from now on, just the smell of paint in her nose, and some loud rock music in her ears was all she needed to forget about that ugly world outside.

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: What?

Hi Coco,

Great name! I totally get your obvious connection to the fine city of New York, I used to live there a long, long time ago, but your prejudice with LA is a bit unsettling, yes it's the capital of fake on the outside, but it's got a vivid art scene as well, it's a lot more laidback in many ways, yes, but that doesn't mean it's got no soul, because it does! For example, the film industry where a new star is born everyday and then there's the music industry, did you know that a lot of the best songs in history were written in LA? this city pushes people to live their dreams, and I think I'm living proof of what this city can do to and for someone!

500$ for that small painting? Deal! I would like to see what you're working on right now, so if you could send me some pics, that'd be great, oh and tell that assistant of yours to get his shit together, artists shouldn't have to sell their own work on top of everything else. Just give me his number and I'll have a word with him if you want!

Gotta run, so send me your financial details and I'll get the money transferred.

Horatio? Really? Now, that's weird because I googled Horatio De Robiano (I take it that is your last name, right?), just to check what kind of people I'm dealing with here, but guess what? Couldn't find anyone by that name either, do you even exist or is all your work done by some bot? Wouldn't surprise me, given how perfect those lines of yours are and how sweet your colours, it's almost too good to be true!

Oh, and since we're on a first name basis already, I'm Joe!

Real life regards

Joe

Ok, so he wasn't completely honest, Joseph, Joe, who cared if it was his middle name? At least it was closer to the truth than Bart Cubbins, and besides it gave him a sense of freedom, like he could write whatever he felt, he could be himself in these e-mails, not the actor or the singer everyone expected him to be 24/7. All content with himself he sat down with his cup of coffee while in the corner of his eye last night's failure came walking down the stairs, “I'll go then..bye Jay..” she slowed her step as she walked past the kitchen, hoping for..hoping for what exactly? That he would've changed his mind? That he would offer her coffee or breakfast? Duh! As if! “yeah bye” he mumbled as he kept his eyes on his screen, goodbye and good riddance, note to self: check with Shayla about the non disclosure agreement!

The rumbling of her stomach broke her focus, usually she ignored it and just carried on but this time it wasn't just her stomach but her mind too that just wouldn't calm down, ever since that last e-mail where 'stranger' mentioned her father, her mind just kept rehashing those last few weeks and days that led up to her leaving with slamming doors. She leaned back a bit to turn down the blaring radio before she almost jumped down from the scaffolding to have a look, oh yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! Sharp lines, great colours, she grabbed a cigarette and lit it. The more she looked at it, the prouder she was of herself, don't get too euphoric yet though..oh what the hell, this called for a little celebration, besides she could do with some fresh air and with some distance from her work for an hour or two so she grabbed her jacket and her bag and hopped on out the door. The cold New York air hit her as she walked to that cute diner a few blocks down, half of New York was rushing to get out of the cold, while she only enjoyed it as it blew the tiny remains of her hang over away. Suddenly she felt a weird vibration coming from the bag on her arm, oh this was going to be perfect, hot soup, her favorite sandwich and hopefully a new e-mail to read from that mistery buyer, life just couldn't get any sweeter right now and her feet shared the same opinion as they picked up the pace so she could sit down and finally read what 'stranger' had written.

[punch-you-with-friendship]

Water for a Dead Rose Ch. 1

Hope I’m not too late for the #fandersmeetup! This is my first Sanders Sides fanfiction, and I’m super excited to share it with you all!

It’s set in the soulmate au where you write on your skin and it appears on your soulmate, with an untraditional plot structure. This first chapter is mostly exposition, and it probably qualifies as fluff, but, uh... Don’t get used to that.

I don’t have a tag list, but I can make one if anyone’s interested. @puns-and-patton @eequalsmcscared because they’re running the meetup. It’s also on AO3!

Overall Summary: Roman knows it wasn’t an accident. Virgil knows something isn’t right. It’s the story of a desperate search for a murder plot and a soulmate bond broken by tragedy.

Told with Virgil’s perspective in a chronological format (beginning to end) and Roman’s perspective in a reverse chronological format (end to beginning).

Chapter 1: Phone Calls and New Beginnings

Word count: 1.4K

Relationships: Logicality mention, platonic Analogical

Warnings: brief alcohol (Always let me know if I missed any!)

Next

December 31st, 2018. 306 days before.

New Year’s Eve was, without question, Virgil’s favorite holiday. Nothing was quite the same as the night of new beginnings, the night of leaving things behind, and the night of true love, not that the latter mattered to a guy like him. It also happened to be Virgil’s birthday, making it a doubly special night. He only ever spent it with close friends and family, those who he knew cared about him. So, naturally, Virgil was spending it alone this year.

He was currently on his laptop, typing away at the new story he was writing. He really felt like he was on a roll—the tiny community of fans he’d garnered would definitely appreciate what he’d done with the foreshadowing. The hours blended together as the words spilled out of his fingers and onto the screen. It was a pattern Virgil could get lost in for the rest of his life if left to his devices. And with the TV on (open to the Times Square Ball Drop, of course), a cheap beer in hand (which he was now legally allowed to have, hooray) a blanket wrapped around his legs (once soft, now worn) and the tool of his trade on his knees (the laptop), he thought for the moment that it wouldn’t be so bad.

He decided to take a quick break, scrolling through Tumblr. There was plenty of incorrect quotes and New Year’s themed gifs, but none of his favorite writers had posted anything. It was probably because they were enjoying the holiday with friends and family.

He sighed and checked the clock. 11:24. Thirty-six minutes until it was 2019, and thirty-six minutes until it wasn’t his birthday anymore. It would simply be a normal day for a normal 21-year-old.

All of his friends, including his twin sibling and roommate Talyn, were at Dean’s party. And they all knew Virgil would never subject himself to some fraternity thing. The frat guys hated most non-frat guys, let alone non-college guys like himself. And besides, why go to a party and embarrass yourself with your lack of social skills when you could be at home writing?

Yep. Virgil wasn’t lonely at all.

He typed up a few more sentences before closing his laptop with a sigh. Maybe he should at least call someone, just to stifle his loneliness for a little bit. But who did he know that was awkward enough to not—

Wait, duh. Logan. Was that even a question?

And for once he wasn’t going to be busy studying. Virgil was fairly confident that no one studies over winter break.

Virgil went into his contacts and clicked Logan’s name. It rang twice before he picked up.

“Happy New Year’s Eve, Virgil. Can I help you?”

“Sure, Nerd. You can keep me company for a bit.”

“Okay. Is there a particular reason that you are not spending this time at Dean’s—“

“Is there a reason you’re not?”

“...Fair enough.”

The two chatted, awkwardly grasping for conversation topics before falling into a rhythm: question, answer, joke, question, answer, joke. They talked about the world, talked about Logan’s major, talked about how stupid in love their siblings were, talked about Virgil’s sketchy coworkers (what was their deal? They always acted like they were plotting something), and talked about… Patton.

“How’s the big teddy bear treating ya?” Virgil quipped, fiddling with one of his hoodie strings.

Logan chuckled. “If by ‘big teddy bear’ you mean Patton, then he’s treating me as well as ever. Things have been smooth for a while now. Can’t imagine it being any better.” Virgil was no social butterfly, but he could read people like a pro, and Logan didn’t sound like his ever-confident self in saying that. Virgil tapped his fingers on his knee.

“But...?” He prompted.

Neither one said anything for a long moment. Virgil let the silence work its magic, and after a few moments, Logan sighed. “I’m... I’m starting to think he’s better than I deserve. He’s truly wonderful, and generous, and kind, almost overwhelmingly so. I don’t know how to make it up to him.” Logan sounded pained.

Virgil frowned at the couch cushion below him. “Dude. You don’t owe him anything. From what I know about him, he’d be shocked if he heard you say that just now.”

“I know! It just—“

“Feels too good to be true, huh?”

“Precisely.”

Virgil took a deep breath. “Look.“

“Hard to do over a telephone call.”

“Really, Logan?” Virgil laughed a little, releasing some pent-up tension. “Listen, then. You’re his soulmate. It doesn’t matter who deserves what, you’re literally made for him. Do you love him?”

“Of course. I’m offended you would ask.”

“You give him your all?”

“Yes. As much as I can give.”

“And does Patton know that?”

“If he doesn’t, he’s incredibly dense.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I... When you put it that way, I suppose there isn’t—“

“Exactly.”

Logan simply breathed.

More than a year ago, Logan’s soulmate bond had started working, and the guy it had connected him to was exactly what Logan needed. He was sweet and sentimental, as opposed to Logan’s grounded and logical nature. They complimented one another, gave each other’s lives purpose. The two had rapidly fallen for one another, and had passed their one-year anniversary two months ago. They were the perfect match, as the soulmate bond promised. And Virgil was happy for them, he really was. But it made him wonder… His soulmate bond was still dormant. Virgil had never been much of an optimist, but the more time went by, the more he thought maybe the bond would stay dormant.

“Virgil? Are you still there?”

Oh, right. He was on the phone with Logan.

They continued to talk until Virgil heard shouting from the TV--it was officially midnight.

“Oh, would you look at that. Happy new year, Logan.” Virgil raised his beer and took a sip, an unspoken toast.

“And to you, Virgil.”

The two sat in silence for a moment.

“Hey… You know something?” Virgil said.

“What is it?”

“You’re good company.”

“Oh. Thank you. It helps me to talk to you about... Things.”

Another beat of silence.

“You know you can always call me when needed, correct?” Logan’s voice sounded concerned.

“Patton’s been rubbing off on you.”

“No, I mean it. You’ve been rather… Downtrodden as of late.”

“It’s just Christmas blues. Don’t worry your hyperactive brain about it.”

“Christmas blues? I was under the impression that Christmas is a time of joy.”

“Not when you’re spending it alone. Cool it Specs, I’m fine. I’ve got my writing to keep me company.”

“I’m sure you do. But your linguistic passions do not replace real people.”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Can’t-Hang-Out-I’m-Busy-Studying. And hey, I called you, didn’t I?”

“That is… True. But--”

“Relax. We’re having a great time here. Don’t ruin it with another one of your lectures.”

“Remind me why I keep you as my companion?”

“Hell if I know.”

The two laughed.

Virgil stood up, distangeled himself from the blanket, and started walking to the kitchen, intending to get a snack or something. What did he even have to eat? He really needed to go to the store or something. He poked around for a bit, finally deciding to order a pizza when he noticed a strange prickling sensation on his palm. He ignored it.

“Hey Logan, I’m probably gonna order a pizza.”

“A… Pizza? Will a pizza place even be open at--”

“Pizza places are always open.”

“But on New Year’s Eve?”

“Did I stutter, Logan? Pizza places. Are. Always. Open.”

“If you say so. I’m assuming you need to hang up so as to use your phone to order?”

“Yep. Nice chatting with ya, Nerd.”

“Any time.” Click.

Virgil started to google what pizza place was open—despite what he’d said, he wasn’t actually sure where he’d have to call—and noticed the prickling again. Was that just an after effect of typing the night away? He passed his phone to the other hand and glanced at his palm.

And promptly dropped the phone.

Happy New Year, my soulmate!

Written on his palm in blue pen.

Virgil stared. And stared. And blinked hard, and stared again. It was still there.

When his brain reconnected to his body, he sprinted into the living room, lifting up the couch cushions in search of a pen. When his flailing hands finally found one, he uncapped it. The pen met the skin of his palm.

You too. Soulmate.

Looked like Virgil wasn’t ordering pizza anymore.