#that being said my sleep schedule is in shambles

[paeinovis]

Me watching my resting heart rate go down bc exercise makea my heart stronger

[heegyukeluv]

love-battery (lhs) - req

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: Heeseung always would make you feel recharged just by being around. And you did the same to him.

my's note: hi hello here's a very fluff cute little thing! it's a request (thank you for requesting <3), so i hope you like it!!!! (have to say that when i chose the name of this fic, the jinyoung's song with similar name started to play on my head non-stop help)

warnings: skinship, established relationship, fluff, pet names, explicit language (i can't help myself. i'll always use at least one 'fuck' lol).

wc: 3k

NOT PROOFREAD.

Even with your boyfriend’s tight schedule and the fact you both lived quite far from each other, you and Heeseung always managed ways to meet up and hang out for at least an hour or so – enough to work as a full recharge for Heeseung.

However, for the last whole month you only saw Heeseung three times. You were used to seeing him almost every day, either by going to his and staying for a bit or he coming to yours for the same reason, and it was pissing you off how annoying adult life was being so far, unabling you to do your daily basis chores, let alone drive to Heeseung’s studio to be with him.

Heeseung normally had a tough routine as a producer by spending long hours in his studio, staying up all night working on his music and constantly dealing with tight deadlines. Your favorite hobby was to grab a coffee and some snacks to surprise him by showing up unexpectedly; and of course, to sit on his lap while he kept doing his things. 

But now you were the one fighting against time, as you had to deal with your last year in college, struggling with your final project and with your respective project partners – who would have thought that working with people would lead you to be that stressed, huh?

Your life was a total mess at this point, your sleep schedule chaotic, your body aching, begging for a pause to get some proper rest, but you really couldn’t give yourself that luxury; all the submission dates getting closer and closer making you go crazy in desperation.

And on top of that, you haven’t seen your boyfriend, the main source of your happiness, in almost two weeks.

“This is so frustrating, Hee,” you said with a realistic sad tone, when you decided to ignore the blank page on your laptop waiting for a new plot to pop up in your mind, and give your love life a little more attention, calling Heeseung. “It’s almost like the world doesn't want us to be together.”

“Don’t say such things, my love. Not even as kidding,” he interrupted you to say with a gentle voice. “We’re going to figure out something, yeah?”

“I’m sorry, Hee. But– I’m dealing with a bunch of stupid assignments with stupid deadlines in this stupid degree I chose, and you’ve told me early this week that you were pretty chill with your work. But I didn’t even have time to invite you over the days you said you’re free! Not to mention that if you were here I’d be paying more attention to you and getting fucked with my project.”

“Y/N–”

“And when I’m free you’re the one swamped with work! And, please, I’m not blaming you, babe, please don’t take it the wrong way. I love you and I love that you can work with the thing you’re passionate about. I’m just… Frustrated,” you unloaded with a long sigh, voice trembling a bit since your feelings were, also, a mess and your heart aching. “And I miss you so much. I wish we lived a bit closer, so we could meet more often in moments like this.”

You heard Heeseung soft breathing through the phone. He decided to let you vent instead of cutting you off, because he, more than anyone, knew how overwhelmed you felt whenever you had to deal with submission dates and projects. It was your third project in your whole degree, this one being the most important one, and Heeseung saw you in shambles during your working time in the smaller ones, fully understanding how hard it has been with this final one.

“I’m sorry you’re having to go through all of this, pretty girl,” you could feel the comfort in his tender, sweet tone. You wiped out a single tear that tried to escape your eyes, curving yourself into a little ball on your couch. “But you don’t have to do this alone, my love,” you heard a weird noise through his phone, very similar to a door unlocking. Your door unlocking. You frowned. “Don’t freak out, bae. I’m entering your apartment right now.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. “What?” You whispered in disbelief, your phone falling off from your hand, your eyes widening as you watched your boyfriend walk through the front door, smiling big and bright at you.

His dark red hair was attractively messy because of the motorcycle helmet. He also carried a big backpack on his back and a plastic bag with the logo of your favorite food place.

“You’re kidding me,” your voice was barely a whisper at this point, your lips curving into a smile that grew bigger and bigger, still finding it hard to believe that the man talking to you on your phone was now in front of you. Your beloved boyfriend was now in front of you. “Lee fucking Heeseung!” You almost squealed, walking in his direction right after he put his helmet and his backpack on the ground, to jump on his open arms which were waiting to embrace you in a tight hug.

Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist and your arms on his shoulders, his firm hands gripping on your thighs to hold you close and steady as you buried your face on his neck, inhaling his scent as if it was your favorite drug. You heard Heeseung chuckling at your reaction and you finally noticed how fast your heart was beating, everything feeling unreal. All the frustration you felt waving off your body quickly.

“Hi, baby,” Heeseung said in an affectionate way, with you still hidden on the curve of his neck, making him let out a small laugh at your adorableness. He missed you so much.

Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, pulling him into yourself as if you could become one before you started to kiss every piece of his exposed skin, from his jawline to close to his ear, to his cheek, the tip of his nose and finally his glistening, dreamy lips.

Heeseung let out a contented sigh when he felt your sweet taste, walking carefully through the living room so he could sit on the couch with you on his lap, the contact never breaking. He deepened the kiss by slightly brushing his tongue on your bottom lip, electricity running all over his body once you let him in to feel him closer, so intimately; his hands sneaked into your shirt, caressing the bare skin of your waist just because he needed to touch, to feel you more.

“I missed you so much, my love,” you whispered when you parted away to catch your breath, pecking his lip countless times as you said “Missed. You. So. Much. Oh. My. God,” and the last one lasted a bit longer, making Heeseung giggle and kiss you properly one more time. 

“I missed you too, pretty.”

Heeseung was looking at you with so much love, his eyes sparkling in joy for finally having you that close, touching, kissing you. He caressed your cheek while his gaze wandered all your face features, as if he was trying to memorize every one of them, completely endeared by your beauty.

Heeseung looked at you as if he just discovered what love is. 

You weren’t different, though. Your soft touch on his strands of hair, scratching slightly as your contemplated every piece of your very good-looking boyfriend, not holding yourself when your fingers started gently to trace his face; his big deer eyes now turned into little crescents, his pretty nose that you loved to kiss, the little charming mole on his forehead, and his so, so attractive lips adorning the most beautiful smile you ever had the chance to see. You were so in love.

Heeseung felt like he could stare at you all day and he would never feel tired, actually to have you close always worked as a battery recharge. And for you, Heeseung did the same, making all your bad feelings wash away easily because you had him, and you knew you could rely on him.

Ironically, the sound of your laptop on the coffee table indicating that its battery was running out, pulled you both out of your little love bubble, startling you slightly. The reality check hit you with full force, and the bottom of your stomach sank immediately.

You gulped, looking at Heeseung with a hint of sadness before you sighed and said, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy you’re here, but I–”

“You have things to do, I know,” Heeseung cut you off mid-sentence. His kind voice, the small peck on your cheek, and his cute smile making you shiver and melt. “But don’t worry about me, okay? You do your things, I’ll be around for whenever you finish, and then we can cuddle,” he said simply, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You’re staying?” You questioned with eyes sparkling in confusion. “I don’t want you to mess up your sche–”

Heeseung now stopped your talking with a sweet kiss, and then another, and another, and one more just in case. “I’m staying, baby,” he chuckled at your tilted head, expressing that you were very much confused. “As I said before, I’m pretty chill this week,” he explained with a warm smile, mirroring yours. “Anything I have to do, I can do from my computer or phone, so I’m all yours this weekend, my love.”

Heeseung fell even deeply for you when he saw your eyes shining like you received the best news of your life. And for you, you actually did. To have your boyfriend for a whole weekend after days without being able to see each other, you truly thought you were dreaming. 

So to have Heeseung feeding you while your hands worked on your writing was definitely something that you hadn’t planned for your friday. He was openly giving his opinion as well after you cutely asked him to, paying attention to every detail you shared with him about the plot you were working on. 

“So your idea is that after he leaves the house, you give an extra zoom on the door knob because someone is going to open, even though the house is supposed to be empty?”

“Yes! And then it’s revealed to be actually his ‘dead’ twin!” You explained excitedly, noticing Heeseung gazing very passionately at you. You blushed, feeling suddenly too aware, because your story now has been read by someone other than you. “I– I know it’s kinda simple and boring, but I mean– I got the approval to keep working on it, so…” You shrugged, trying to act cool, but your pout was showing how insecure you actually felt.

“It’s not simple or anything bad, my love,” Heeseung couldn’t resist the urge of kissing your small pout as he reassured you. “It’s impressive how your creative mind works, I’m really proud,” he said with his voice filled with sincerity.

You gave him a shy smile before going back to writing, heart beating fast with his genuine words.

Heeseung never left your side. You needed him around you every single second, not only to compensate for the days you were apart, but because Heeseung was really your source of energy. So to write on your computer while having his fingers intertwined with yours became a natural activity during the moments you were working on your project. You could feel Heeseung’s love stare at your face during those moments, completely in love by your focused expression. 

Sometimes he would leave your touch to reply to some of his co-workers on his phone, giving them the attention they needed, but in the meantime his head would be resting on your shoulder, completely addicted to your touch and to having you close – his hair tickling your neck making you lose focus for a few minutes.  

You both wanted and needed each other with the same intensity. Heeseung always loved your clinginess, emphasizing how lovable you looked with your pouty face whenever he had to leave the bed to go to the bathroom or grab some food in the kitchen and “leave you to die alone”, like you normally would say in a very dramatic way. Especially because he himself was pretty clingy too, holding you in a tight back hug whenever you had to go back home after visiting him at his studio, refusing to let you leave his side.

To move in together was a big dream. However Heeseung always talked with you about finishing your studies first before committing your relationship on that instance, so you could have your freedom without him disrupting your focus; he also knew that he wasn’t ready to have you so close for that long, afraid of scaring you off by how much he would be around you, maybe losing his own concentration on his work. 

And this behavior was being shown at that moment, by you doing the lunch and him hugging you from behind.

“I have to be honest, I don’t really see this as ‘helping’, Hee,” you said with a playful chuckle, not really bothered by his big hands resting on your hips as well as his chin on your shoulder while you did all the work. He was clinging like a koala, making it challenging to move around the kitchen.

“What do you mean? I’m clearly helping you,” he said with a babyish voice, making you giggle. You could tell he was pouting too. “What if you get hurt? I have to be close, y’know? To save you from danger.”

You laughed hard, throwing your head behind and profusely resting it on his chest. “The danger?”

“Yeah, the knife and fire and stuff…” He explained like it was obvious.

You turned down the heat on the stove, moving away from it so you could face your boyfriend, just to meet his big, adorable eyes looking at you with a dramatically pleading expression. “You’re right,” you said softly, cupping his cheeks and planting a kiss on his lips. “Thank you for protecting me from the dangers of my kitchen,” you added a hint of sarcasm to your very affectionate tone, without holding your smile when he nodded proudly, before pulling you closer to kiss you properly as now your self-proclaimed hero. 

After you finished cooking – with Heeseung’s help, of course –, you both shared the meal, doing constant “love shots” but with your food, just so you could feel each other’s touch.

Heeseung didn’t let you go back to work on your project when you finished eating, saying you needed a bit of resting time with him. And how could you oppose such truthful words? 

So you spend quite a long time of your Saturday afternoon embraced in Heeseung’s arms and scent all over you, making it difficult to choose anything different from being on the bed cuddling him. 

After changing positions many times, you now were on top of Heeseung, face buried on his neck while he hummed some random song, hands gently caressing your back and scalp, making you wonder if taking a quick nap at that moment would mess up too much with your project work.

As if a sense of responsibility hit you, remembering all your deadlines and especially that you had to finish at least the plot writing by Monday – in two days –, you forced yourself to try to move away. Your body refused, though.

“I should go,” you said, muffed into his skin.

“Yeah, you should…” Heeseung added, not moving an inch to help you with that. In fact, he held you closer. Your warm body against his own helping him to relax. 

“Like, reeeally gotta go…” You didn’t move as well, trailing kisses all over his neck as you refused to get up.

“Definitely you do…” His voice was a bit raspy in a sweet, tender way that made it even harder for you to leave. He was about to fall asleep.

You sighed, “I missed being like this with you.” You lifted your head just enough to see his serene expression; eyes closed, lips slightly parted and a calm breathing. You almost cried with the fact that you truly needed to go back to your life instead of staying there with Heeseung. 

Your hands caressed his face with all the care in the world, making him open his eyes, “I missed it too, pretty. I miss you every moment I’m without you, actually.”

You noticed a soft flush  on Heeseung cheeks and giggled at the sight of your ‘so cool’ boyfriend blushing in front of you. 

You always appreciated how Heeseung was not only a good listener to your worries and maybe overwhelming thoughts, but also unafraid to show you his most sensitive and vulnerable side in order to make you comfortable on doing the same. You cherished his presence in your life with all you had, not being scared of loving him so openly, because he did the same for you. 

“I love you,” you whispered, leaning in to tease a kiss. He smiled against your lips, closing his eyes again.

“I love you too, my love,” he murmured, mirroring your tone and capturing your bottom lip with his own, to pull you near and finally kiss you. 

You decided to stay for a bit longer, because Heeseung’s hands roaming your body with such care and tenderness, his sweet mouth working on yours, and his loving whispers against your skin were too irresistible.

The best excuse you found for yourself was that you were revitalizing so you could work better, your creativity would flow easily and you would finish it in no time.

And, well, he would be around you anyway, because he just couldn’t never get enough of your pretty face, or your joyful presence, or your addicting warm touches.

After all, Heeseung always worked as a recharger to your love battery, and for him, you were no different.

[xyoonx]

𝐎𝐂 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 # 🐚

Featuring: my OC, Hektor Clayden. [Monde]

Fandom: Lovebrush Chronicles.

Warning: might contain spoilers of Clarence's cards / other world stories.

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Name: Hektor Clayden.

Age: 18

Pronouns: He/him.

Appearance: tall, fair, short blue hair with a white streak on the left, a small scar on left eyebrow, glasses, blue-grey eyes, and a mole under the left eye.

Personality: introverted, polite, creative, friendly, shy at first, absolutely ballistic when you get to know him.

Major: Geography.

Hobbies: Writing. Playing games, collecting/buying merch of his favourite series, collecting stamps.

Likes: Games, movies, books, mangas, stamps, nature, blueberries, oatmeals.

Would ditch saving the world for a bowl of oatmeal.

Dislikes: disorganised places, crowds, rude people.

Birthday : November 6.

MBTI: INFJ

Pets: None.

Who needs a pet when all animals favor you?

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬

MC: Best friend. They have been close since they met on orientation day.

Naledi: Best friend, and once crush. RIP.

Cael: Unknown. He is weary of him since he only heard about Cael from MC.

Alkaid: Friendly. They don't talk much, but they do get along quite well whenever they cross paths.

Clarence: older brother. Hektor doesn't like him much though.

Jaclyn: Older sister. Hektor gets along with her the most.

William: Hektor only listens to his ramblings.

O’Connor: that weirdo friend who calls him “H” (Haha, Hydrogen).

Ayn: Friendly. Hektor and Ayn are rumoured to be gaming buddies.

Lars: Unknown.

𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

Hektor grew up with the Claydens. Despite his siblings literally thriving in their childhood, Hektor was more laid-back; enjoying life his own secluded way. He is more close to his parents; always listening to whatever they say. And so, when his parents said that he should try getting into St. Shelter’s, Hektor couldn't say no despite his brother literally being there.

Extra: Hektor also traveled a lot with his father.

– since Mr. Clayden's a scientist, he rarely gets time to stay home; having to travel across the world a lot, he often took Hektor with him. And Hektor has had all the fun in his youth spewing chaos at the scientific research centre.

Academy life: He is a freshman majoring in Geography. In spite of his introverted, awkward nature, he makes friends easily. Thus he, MC and Naledi became friends on the first day. He easily makes good results in the examination since he is studious. And he was dragged into the Student Council by William because of obvious reasons.

Others/Special:

is an avid fan of In Passing.

Thought that the Archmage was a self-insert character of his brother until he saw MC actually making him a canon character.

Loves oatmeals. That's it. Would ditch Clarence’s plans for a bowl of oatmeal with blueberries.

Can run very fast. Clarence made him run across the entire campus one day for an errand.

Usually finds unconventional, rather creative ways of escaping troubles.

The first to beat Clarence’s mechanical escape room.

Hektor would absolutely thrive in Godheim, traumatising the Archmage by being an annoying ass.

Can't cook for the love of God.

Is a sharpshooter.

Sleeping schedule is in shambles.

Goes along extremely well with Clarence's cat, Goldie. Goldie is known to be shy towards others, but when it comes to Hektor, Goldie becomes very energetic.

Can hold basic conversations in multiple languages.

Really close to his dad.

Was forced to play as a butterfly by O'Connor.

Affection Items: Oatmeal candy bar, blueberries, stamps, gaming console and CD.

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

Tent Set-Ups Going Wrong

[ID: a green badge of a tent with text that reads ‘Sambucky Summer Camp Bingo, Stuck in a Tent, ESTD. 2023 / finish ID]

Title: Tent Set-Ups Gone Wrong

Square Filled: Stuck in a Tent

A/N: just a light-hearted cracky entry for @sambuckylibrary. where sam tries filming a Cap P.S.A, only for it to go in shambles.^^

Word Count: 873

T.W: None-ish

***

Part of being Captain America was having to maintain one's presence in the media. And while Sam tended to be exhausted from handling press conferences and interviews, he did what he could.

Sure, he couldn't dodge inappropriate or racist questions regarding his position, he knew how to deal with them. He knew how to be composed, not allowing any initial frustration get the best of him. Aware it wouldn't do him any good.

Although, it would be nice to talk back, sometimes. Even Bucky wanted to slam some reporter's head against wall at how he got a question that he disliked. Immensely.

Unfortunately, it also included some certain things that he didn't think of. . .

"You want me to star in those P.S.As?" Sam asked in disbelief.

He had been summoned to a small studio in D.C, where he had to discuss of his schedule. They all decided to meet at Rock Creek Park, where they would be filming. Since summer was approaching, they needed to have commercials featuring Sam, front and center.

"Well, Steve did it and you might as well too," the producer explained, plastering a smile that looked more of a wince. "All part of the job, I guess."

Sam huffed a sigh. "Alright. Let's get this over with."

"Do you have to?" Bucky asked.

"I mean we can do something else," Joaquin added, sounding dismayed.

"Like I said, guys." Sam adjusted his cowl. "We should finish this."

Both Bucky and Joaquin exchanged a glance of chagrin.

They gathered at a small grassy field as the crew prepared the mini set. Just some bundles of wood, tents, and sleeping bags.

The director lifted a megaphone, adjusted in her seat.

"Lights. . . Camera. . . Action!"

Someone slammed the clapperboard and Sam propped his hands on his sides, facing the camera. And while Bucky and Torres stood by his sides, waving.

"So, you wanna learn how to arrange a tent, huh?" Sam asked, flashing his signature megawatt smile. "Well, lemme show you how it's done. With the help of my team, anything is possible!"

The wind howled, moving past him in a heavy current.

"Wow, you sure are pulling this off, Samuel," Bucky whispered wryly.

Repressing any urge to roll his eyes, Sam beckoned Bucky and Joaquin at the tent supplies strewn on the grass.

"First you gotta set it up," Sam said into the camera, sweeping an arm over at them. "Then put your components on the tarp. Connect your tent poles together. Insert those poles into where they ought to be and raise the tent up. Now watch as my good friends, Sergeant Bucky Barnes and Lieutenant Joaquin Torres, take this step by step."

Yeah, Sam had to memorize an entire instruction manual for this. So, if any of them noticed how he sounded automatic, maybe he could change it for another take.

Who knew how long would this go on? He had sternly informed those two to be on their best behavior. Although, that approach didn't work by eighty percent.

Bucky and Joaquin adjusted the tent's equipment, setting up the poles. They started raising the tent up slowly yet diligently. The breeze smacked a flap against Bucky and his fingers trembled upon adjusting the hook.

Whoa, it was such a big tent, he thought, refraining from gaping.

Just as Sam could have peered into the camera, the wind's heavy strength shook the poles. Yanking them off their positions. Bucky froze and flung an arm around, only for the tent to collapse down on him.

"Sam! Sam! Help! I think. . . I'm trapped!" Bucky sounded panicked.

Oh yikes, Sam thought. He tried maintaining his smile.

He should have known even filming a damn P.S.A wouldn't go peacefully. Most things in his line of work didn't.

The director and filming crew chattered in hushed tones containing concern. Joaquin winced, bowing his head while scratching his forehead.

"Okay, Cap to the rescue, everyone!" Sam sprinted towards the fallen tent.

He tried pushing it upwards and Bucky moved, crawling out of it. He scrambled to his feet, pressing his hands against the tent. The wind howled again, growing louder and denser. Streaks of grey scattered within the sky as clouds gathered.

The tent collapsed on both of them, sending them flat against the ground.

Both of them let out a grunt and a yelp, their shoulders budging and nudging. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and Sam tried kicking the tent.

If the weather was gonna be this concerning, he would have rescheduled the entire damn thing. However, he had to be in this predicament.

Yep. Sam was so not cut out for this shit. He should be a hell lot selective if he had to take up this gig. Ever again. Simple P.S.As filmed in a studio? Doable. Something he could manage, at the very least.

". . . you're going to cut this out of the finished footage, aren't you?" Joaquin asked, sounding hesitant.

"Cut! Cut!" the director yelled, her voice amplified by her megaphone's speakers. "Okay, can. . . Can someone get Cap and his sidekick out of there?"

Bucky sighed. "Maybe if we filmed indoors instead of outdoors, we wouldn't be in this tricky situation."

"Shoulda known this was a bad idea," Sam mumbled, clutching onto the tent's edge.

***

[firstdivisiongirl]

Hi! I hope you're having a good day. I'm supposed to be doing homework, but I got distracted by the booping thing and now I'm here.

If you have the time, I'd like to request a romantic matchup with a Tokyo Revengers character. I'm nonbinary - they/them pronouns - and pansexual (I apologize if this creates too big of a pool for characters). I can't say that I have a type either. Whether it be someone who's soft and kind or confident and strong headed, I'm weak for them. What can I say, I love a little bit of everyone. I'm an INFP-T who is often drowning in overdue homework only to pull a few all-nighters back to back to catch up, and cry even though I put myself in that position (my sleep schedule is in shambles). My parents are protective of me because I'm the youngest of the children by a decade and not very strong. I'm an even 5'. Paired with shitty eyesight and small frame, I'm not menacing at all. It also doesn't help that I greet everyone with a smile, even when faced with snarky comments or someone I'm greatly upset with. Of course, this doesn't mean I won't get angry later and rant for a good hour or so through tears. For some reason, no matter how calm I am on the inside, I start crying when crying to express myself in serious situations. (if anyone has an idea on how to stop this, please help)

Since I'm nonbinary, I try to lean into a more androgynous look, but my mom still tries to instill a sense of "womanhood" in me (which gives me anxiety and a lot of body dysphoria). It makes me lean away from more feminine colors in clothing, which sucks because I'm a stickler for a cute pastel shirt. That being said, I try not to let that get to me by wearing whatever I want because I also strongly believe that colors and clothes don't relate to gender. I usually wear baggier tops at least because I can't buy a binder yet.

I like listening to people talk about themselves or anything that interests them, as long as they don't mind me rambling about something also. My mom has told me I'd make a really good therapist because I always help her break down her problems and get a different view on things. My sister vents to me frequently because she feels I offer a place of no judgement and she can speak freely.

A lot of my personal joy comes from seeing others happy. In a friend group, I'm often the one trying to include everyone and make people laugh, even if I'm anxious myself. Even though I can get swept up in my emotions, I always stop and think about things in a logical view (which sometimes leads to me taking action before realizing I should've thought it through). I definitely wouldn't do well in the TKR universe in terms of fighting, but I'd probably figure out some way to be helpful because I hate feeling like I'm not contributing anything. I also like to think I have a pretty good pain tolerance, so maybe I could buy time or something.

I've been told I'm very extroverted and outgoing, but I actually have a low social battery and often find myself overwhelmed in social outings with lots of people or loud noises. I almost started crying in downtown Seattle and New York City when I was on vacation (even though I was having fun). This can lead me to shutting down at times and going relatively non-verbal. Overall, I'd describe my personality as laid-back, open-minded, and not confrontational. I try to push my way through my insecurities and short-comings, but things hardly work out the way I want them to.

I like video games and sleeping in, but I'll push my own hobbies aside for people I enjoy hanging out with. I'm not too picky about food, as long as it isn't spicy (i'm a bit of a wimp). I also really enjoy sweets - cakes, pastries, cookies, candies, chocolates. I love them all. I often end up not eating because I either get distracted or I simply don't feel like it. Technically, I'm allergic to dairy and tomatoes and I can get really nauseous or itchy, but my favorite foods often have those ingredients so I act like I'm immune.

Anyways, I apologize for the long description. I hope I followed all your rules and gave you everything you need. Please take your time, I am in no rush and I know life is always busy. I hope you have a good day!

Hello. The wait it finally over. Sorry it took so long. Things got crazy. Let's just jump right into it!

You Got...

Souya Kawata!!!!

He is really good with people and very patient. If you got overwhelmed and needed time, he would be there for you anyway he can.

He would make you the best foo. Anything you want, he will make!

He is a good listener. Will listen to you for hours

Would tell you everyday that you are amazing and that he loves for you!

He would protect you. You being safe is the most important thing to him!

He would help you get anything done that you need. He would keep you on track.

He would like that you are laid back. He already has Smiley, so someone in his life who is chill would be nice.

Video game dates. He would play a mean Mario Kart. I think he would pick Yoshi!

I hope you enjoy

[epiclevelup]

2022 reflection + 2023 goals

So, apparently I reappear here once a year for the new year.

This year was really an eventful one and, despite not having accomplished many of the goals I set out last year, I still managed to get done a lot, and reach some nice milestones.

I landed some good student job opportunities at my university, which are allowing me to fully support myself financially.

I worked on a couple of projects that got me featured in university related magazines and an important international fair.

I've expanded my network, and found a circle of close friends I absolutely love to spend time with.

I've landed a great internship, not at the most prestigious company, but on a really cool project, with an amazing office in a skyscraper and with the most amazing supervisor one could hope for.

I've also just started investing and joined a club where I'll hopefully make some friends and find a new hobby!

Of course, not all has been perfect. Is suffered a family loss, which still hurts when I least expect it.

I still have not finished my degree, nor decided for a master. I also procrastinated too long on deciding on one, which will make it impossible for me to join a really prestigious school, unless I apply next year.

I took on too many responsibilities, afraid of missing out on a good opportunity. And ended up performing worse than I could have, and not being able to perhaps take on different opportunities.

My personal life is still in shambles, in some regards, and I have a long way to go to be a fully functional adult. My room is often a mess, I struggle to bring myself to do my laundry, I'm still learning how to budget (and mostly to keep to that budget), I'm a serial procrastinator, I wake up late because I use my phone too much, and I'm not regularly doing any sport of physical activity.

And this brings me to the lessons learned and goals. This year I want to focus on changing the things that are not working out for me, instead of a list of random things. So the lists will be only one.

Becoming more conscientious (aka, adulting 101):

This year I've realized that in order to be successful in my life, I need at least some basic order and discipline. The four things I really want to focus on will be:

Fixing my sleep schedule. Actually going to bed early, and waking up at 7. Currently I'm working towards 8, and struggling. So this is a possible, yet ambitious goal.

Keeping my room tidy. Not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. Just tidy enough to be decent, to not be embarrassed to have people over, to be able to find my things, to have some mental order.

Getting some regular exercise. Recently I've dug up some relics from a sport I used to do, and love, as a kid. I would love to pick that back up on my own. Work on my strength and flexibility. Also rejoin the gym, as I actually enjoyed that.

Eat healthy, and plan meals. So that I can loose the weight I've gained in the last few months (and get back to my ideal weight) and also save, as I've been overspending on my food for no good reason. I would also love to eat more locally sources and sustainable food.

Part of me kinda wants to end it here because, as easy as this might sounds, I know that these goals will be challenging for me. Therefore, I really want all my focus on them. Still, my life also needs to go on also on the academic and career level. So here are my goals on that regard:

Setting a strong foundation to build my dream life on (aka, doing something with my life):

This year I've often felt aimless and directionless. As always, I want to do everything and nothing at all. I've chosen a direction (which part of me is already questioning), but am still struggling to see what I really want in my life, and what would make me happy. This is I'm wrapping up this chapter of my life, and figuring out what my next steps are by:

Finishing my bachelor degree. With honours.

Saying no more. I hear a quote that said that the difference between a millionaire and a billionaire, was that the billionaire said no a billion times more (or something like that). This year I've truly learned that opportunities come with a cost, and should be carefully considered and weighted. This year I'm quitting the jobs I'm not enthusiastic about, and learning to say no to opportunities, people and also distractions.

Networking. But not really networking. Making friends. Building connections and relationships. Not just thinking of who could be useful. But just who I vibe with. Who I like. Who I want to be more like. Who I can help.

Last but not least, setting up something for myself. Either a company, or some social media venture. Create something that is mine. Be consistent. Create value.

That's it. Maybe we'll see eachother in one year. Maybe I will report back sooner, and actually start posting more often. Who knows...

[constantron]

Idk scriddler drabble

Mornings were never Jon’s thing. Edward kept whatever sleep schedule he’d laid out for himself (which looked so arcane Jon was half convinced he made it up on the fly and just bragged about it being a routine), and this morning he was already up, dressed, typing away on his laptop.

Jon shambled towards the kettle, caffeine-seeking instincts the only part of him that had woken up, but he glanced over Edward’s shoulder at the online form he was developing. The header was ‘critique the Riddler’s personality’. Edward was in the midst of writing question 23(a)iii).

“Edward?”

“Yes, Jon.”

“The fuck is that.”

Ed glanced over his shoulder, irritated, trying not to let on that he wasn’t expecting to be interrupted in this process. “Toxin ruining your reading comprehension?”

“Nah, I mean. You got about the biggest superiority complex in Gotham. The hell you writing this for?”

“I’m the smartest man in Gotham, Jon, it doesn’t mean I’m the most charismatic. Sometimes these things need to be outsourced. I refuse to believe that it’s something entirely innate, so I’m seeking opinions and I’ll develop methodology from there.”

“You sure about that? This seems like it’s just an exercise in seeking validation.”

“Shut up.”

“Fishin’ for compliments.”

“I don’t need compliments. I need advice. I want to hone my persona into a fine blade.”

“I’m guessin if I told ya you were sharp enough, you’d ignore me?”

Edward shot him a withering look. “You are something of a defective model as far as social skills are concerned.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “So, what, you’re just gonna change your whole personality on a whim?”

Edward inspected his nails pointedly, as though nothing Jon could say would phase him. “Maybe? Why not? I’m my own person. If I wanted to reinvent myself I, of all people, could.”

This was starting to seem like the sort of thing best left to Edward, who would undoubtedly have his own revelation about it within a day or so. The stubborn little ass rarely listened to anyone else about anything, part of why his determination to crowd-source his identity seemed so ridiculous.

Then again, Jon genuinely had never given a fuck about any of that sort of thing, something Ed was no doubt sore about. If whatever made a person magnetic truly was intrinsic, Jon had it, and Edward… had other things.

“Aight, I’ll leave you to it. Oh, actually. I have one more question.”

“Go on,” Edward said, a beacon of patience.

“You been reading the comment sections on your wanted posts again?”

Edward blanched, then recovered. “Oh, fuck off.”

Nailed it.

[blueseasfanfics]

Bed Warmer

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader

Description: In Asgard, Prince Loki chose you to serve him. He catches you sleeping in his bed one night, and your punishment only confuses you. He wants you to be his bed warmer for the night. Fluff, slow burn.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Took a tiny break. Honestly, I need a lot of motivation to write these lately. I love writing them but my emotional state is in shambles at the moment. But writing Loki fic is healing for the soul. I hope reading it helps too.

Want to support me for only $3 or commission a personal fic from me? Incredibly personalized and great prices! Check out my ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/starryeyedalien

------

You fell asleep in Loki’s room.

You didn’t mean to, but you were exhausted after cleaning the rest of the room and his bed was so inviting. He had the most comfortable sheets, the softest blankets.

Anything befitting a prince.

Plus, Thor had dragged him off on some sort of trip for the week, the castle was supposed to be bare-boned and the wing with Loki’s rooms were unpopulated for the moment.

You could take a nap.

But no, you forgot Loki often came back whenever he wanted to, not on a schedule.

You woke up in the dark, the sunlight that was streaming in from his huge windows now gone. In a panic, you scramble to get up until a voice from the shadows freezes you in your tracks.

“Don’t get up on my account.” Smooth words from a silver tongue.

“P-prince Loki, I truly-”

“Apologize? For not cleaning my rooms to my satisfaction? You should be apologizing. Just look at the bed, it’s a mess.”

“Y-yes and I’ll fix that right now and-”

“And what? You still fell asleep in my bed. That’s a grave offense you know.”

He says it calmly but you are nowhere near calm, your heartbeat so loud you can hear it in your ears. You scrabble again to get out of his bed and start quickly tidying up the bed, but he lights a candle that was on his nightstand.

Your breath catches in your throat as you see him in the warm light. He’s shirtless, in loose fitting pants that are low on his waist. You catch yourself staring and snap your eyes up to his face, and feel even more panic as you see he’s looking straight at you. He has a bemused smirk on his face, but you have no idea what he could be amused by.

“I-I’m r-really-”

“You stutter too much.” He mutters and you nod, quickly bending back down to fix the blankets and he sighs.

“Do you understand why I chose you to be my servant?”

“M-my...obedience?”

You hadn’t actually ever thought on it. You had been working in the stables for the longest time, caring for the horses. You were always able to calm them down and barely spoke to anyone at all. Then suddenly, you’re being whisked away to be Prince Loki’s personal maid.

Deep down you resented it. You missed the horses, with your only glimpses of them being trips in the dark of night to say hello. It was forbidden to see them without a key, so you could only go when everyone else was asleep. Not like you had time to see them anyway. It’s been a long few months of cleaning and fetching and orders.

In that time, this was the longest Loki had ever spoken to you.

“Are you obedient? Deep down? Is your purpose to answer my every heed?”

“Y-yes?”

He sighs again, and you have the sinking feeling that you’re saying the wrong things.

“You were more fun when you were screaming at me.”

You’re bewildered. You had never screamed at him before in your life. The only people you had ever even risen your voice towards were those that were messing with the horses.

You screamed at one hooded knight once, for trying to take a wounded horse to ride. But that was months ago.

You take a second to think.

Oh, that bastard.

“Well, you shouldn’t have tried to steal a horse. You could have simply asked kindly and I would have found you one you could have ridden.”

“I wanted that one.”

“He was hurt.”

“I don’t care. You give someone of the court what they want, no questions asked.”

You ball up the blanket you’re holding in your fists, trying to bite down your rage.

“I would not let anyone injure a horse further.”

“Next time, you give me the horse I wish. Or else there will be consequences.” You can feel him staring at you, but you keep your eyes pointedly staring at the blanket in your hands.

“I will not.”

“Then you and the horse will die.”

“You will die before that horse does.” Your hand flies to your mouth the second the words come out, dropping the blanket. You look up at him in fear, expecting rage, but instead you’re met with a wide grin.

It feels mildly predatory, as if he got what he wanted.

“S-sir I didn’t-”

“I told you I liked it better when you were yelling at me.”

“I didn’t think that was true-”

“Do I lie that much that you think everything I say is false?” He says, with mock hurt on his face.

You can only shrug. It’s improper, but this whole situation is improper.

He studies your face as you study his. The eye contact is growing unbearable, as is fighting the urge to not look him over fully again.

“C-can I take my leave?” You whisper and he shrugs.

“You seemed so comfortable in my bed. Sleeping away without a care in the world.”

“I already apologized for that.”

“I’m your master, I would think I get a better apology than that.”

“What do you...mean…” You trail off as he slides elegantly into his bed, lifting the blanket as an invitation.

You stand next to the bed, not moving a muscle.

“Sir, I am not going to-” You say through gritted teeth before he rolls his eyes.

“Such an improper mind. I simply want a bed-warmer. Get a nightcloth from the closet and get in.”

“I-”

“Do it.” His words have a biting edge to them as he drops the blanket and turns away from you. You stare for a moment at his back, seeing it littered with scars. You had never seen those before and they’re hypnotizing, but after a moment you break away and rush to his closet.

He had many ladies nightclothes, in case of late-night visitors, but you had never taken too much of a look. Lately, they hung gathering dust in his cabinet.

You grab the first one you see, and hiding in the dark as much as possible you strip off your uniform and slip into the gown.

It was intended for those of a higher class, the fabric feeling as smooth as air against your skin. It was also obviously made for those wanting to show off, as it was incredibly revealing.

“Are you stealing my closet, or does it just take you millenia to change clothing?” His words come out calm but you still feel the need to rush, and you come out quickly. After a moment's hesitation, you slide into the bed next to him.

You lay on the edge as far away from him as you can and face away from him.

“Oh come on, you were sprawled out so sweetly earlier.”

He sounds like he’s facing you, and you freeze.

“Yes, well, this is your bed.” You say back.

“And I’m telling you to warm it.”

“Didn’t I do that enough through the sprawling from earlier?” A slight touch of your irritation comes out and you curse yourself on the inside.

“Such sass from a servant.”

“Apologies-”

“Never apologize again. It’s so incredibly unlike you, and I hate liars.”

“That’s a surprise.”

“See? Doesn’t that feel so much better? Giving me all your vitriol?”

He almost sounds like he’s laughing under all of his words, but he keeps the same crooning, calm tone.

“I’d rather not die, sir. Life feels better than giving you my mind.”

“If anyone was doling out death threats tonight, it was you.”

You whip around to face him, propping yourself up as you look down at him.

He’s giving you a lazy smile from his relaxed and laid-back position, and that just grows your irritation further.

“I only threatened death on you for proposing it on an innocent creature.”

“Very noble of you, saving those less fortunate. Think you could have saved yourself with that fighting spirit.”

“I don’t especially need saving.”

“Ah, yes. That is why you are a servant, and not a warrior.”

“You are just cruel.”

“That is one of my titles, yes.”

“Why am I in this bed?”

“I told you. Bed-warmer.”

“You just wanted power over me, didn’t you?”

“As if I didn’t already have that. With your little stutter and fear rolling off you in waves.”

You’re seething, but confused. Both on why you’re so irritated, and why you’re suddenly allowed to give him all this irritation. In his bed, no less.

“Then why-”

“As I said. You seemed content in my bed.”

“So? Anyone would be content in your bed.”

“Many people are. For different reasons than yours, though.” He yawns, and examines his fingernails.

“Am I boring you?” You say sarcastically and he nods, glancing up at you.

“Quite honestly, yes. I expected to be asleep by now. But the bed is awfully cold, and someone is talking an awful lot.”

“Mainly you.” You mutter and lay back down again, facing away from him. You scoot to the middle of the bed, forgetting your need to keep distance.

“Is that better?” You ask, then your breath hitches as one arm snakes around your waist. He presses you against his chest and you can feel his chin on the top of your head. He has you locked against him like a puzzle piece, and you freeze in place.

It feels good, and a small part of you admits this is the safest you have ever felt in this castle, but you will never admit it to him.

“Don’t worry. I’m a gentleman.” He murmurs, his voice right next to your ear.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You try to choke back any fear, but your words still come out in a shaky whisper.

“I’ll only touch you when you ask for it.”

You try to sleep, simply closing your eyes and trying not to focus on him anymore.

It doesn’t work. His entire being is distracting.

“You have a huge ego.”

“Most definitely.”

“I’m not warming your bed every night.”

“Whatever you wish.”

“You’re irritating.”

“The threat against the horse was a lie. I will never hurt your horses.”

“Incredibly irritating.”

“Most definitely.”

After that you both stay in silence, him keeping true to his word and not moving his hand from your waist and you eventually relaxing in his grip. The more you relax, the more tired you are, until you fall asleep in his arms.

---

You wake up alone in the bed, with the blanket tucked up to your chin. You blink away the sleep, and a glint comes off the pillow next to you. Feeling for whatever it was, you find it and pick it up.

A key to the stables, with a note attached. Quick, scribbled script is written on it in black ink.

“Thank you - Loki.”

[noteguk]

a little while | kth | m

↳ inspired by the song “a little while” by yellow days. 

— summary; in which Taehyung realizes that he was wrong in thinking that being friends with benefits with you wouldn’t backfire. 

— contents and warnings; angsty smut!!, pretty much pwp, taehyung is emotional, fwb au, Taehyung x reader, protected sex, dirty talk (honestly like one sentence), unrequited feelings, kind of soft sex :( taehyung is whipped and sad about it 

— words; 2k

— author’s note; I’ve been feeling kind of stuck with my other wips so I wrote this drabble to unwind :) idk if I plan to write more of it but who knows!!! My two functioning neurons are very unpredictable. 

That was supposed to be easy. 

That was all that Taehyung could think about: you two, whatever you had going on; that was supposed to be easy. It was the whole point of even starting something like that in the first place. It was the entire motive behind why anyone would ever accept a friend with benefits — no strings attached, no clingy calls, no emotional baggage. It was supposed to be a quick situation, convenient; Taehyung was supposed to see you every once in a while, maybe even forget about you, until he decided that he wanted to get his dick wet again. 

It was supposed to be easy. 

“Is this okay for you?” Taehyung asked, leaning a bit closer to your face. He loved staring at you like that: with your hair sprawled on the pillow and your pouty lips inviting him into a kiss. He had grown used to having you under him, and it had quickly become one of his favorite pastimes. “Want me to go faster?” 

You shifted around under him, your hands moving up to rest on his shoulders. “It’s alright, I like it slow too.” 

And he could only nod, because his mind was thinking too many things that he could not say. It was supposed to be fucking easy, but somewhere along the way, Taehyung had ruined everything. It was just a matter of time before the whole situation went up in flames and he managed to lose both his friend and what might just be the love of his life in one go. 

Because Taehyung had broken the first and most important rule of having a friend with benefits: whatever you do, don’t catch feelings. 

And now he was rocking into you slowly, sensually, actually making love to you instead of the way he usually fucked — fast, rough, with your loud moans filling his lungs until he found his high. It was ridiculous. He felt nauseous. 

Worst part was that he was almost sure you didn’t feel the same — and the “almost” was because there was a small fragment of hope inside his chest that really tried to convince him that he had a shot. That maybe the way you looked at him showed something beyond hunger and lust. Maybe you actually cared for him. Maybe you wanted more and you weren’t brave enough to tell him. 

“Actually, could you go a bit faster?” 

Your voice shot him straight back down into reality. Taehyung only nodded, mumbling something that not even he understood before burying his face on the crook of your neck and raising the speed of his thrusts. The world around him felt suffocating and confusing, not even your honeyed moans against his ear could raise his spirit. 

Still he tried to ground himself, his hands digging to your hips as he closed his eyes, focusing on the drag of your walls against his cock. The feeling was overwhelming, dizzying, earned a low groan from him as he continued to fuck you like you deserved to be fucked. Taehyung managed to pretend that everything was alright for exactly two minutes before you spoke up again. 

“God, that feels so good,” you cried out. His cock throbbed inside you at your words, his mind spinning at the sensation of you growing tighter. Taehyung was obsessed with you in every way, completely enthralled by how your body reacted to his, so eager to feel more. “Want you to kiss me, Tae.” 

You always asked that when you were getting close and Taehyung was always fast to do it. His lips were on yours before he could even think about it, his tongue crawling inside your mouth as he groaned against the kiss. God, he could make out with you forever, it wasn’t even a joke. 

Taehyung was absolutely whipped and that was a problem. 

He removed one hand from your hips and trailed it down your arm slowly, reaching your hand and intertwining his fingers in yours. He moaned against your mouth, feeling his orgasm building up on the base of his spine, and pressed your hand down on the mattress as he continued to bury himself inside you. 

“Tae,” you sobbed his name so beautifully that he swore he could cum right at that instant. “I’m so close.” 

“It’s okay, baby, you can let it go,” he said, his voice so deep that you felt it vibrating inside your chest. “I got you. Cum on my cock for me. Wanna feel you.”

And you did, because it was like the universe was mocking him about how perfect you could be. Taehyung groaned — both in pleasure and in frustration — as your pussy clenched around his aching cock, your thighs trembling on either side of his body while you cried out his name. It was a flawless melody composed just for him: your voice dancing in the air, the lewd sounds of your wetness as he continued to thrust in and out of you. 

Taehyung, just to top it all off, committed the huge mistake of actually making eye contact with you as you came down from your high. It suddenly was too much: your hooded eyes, your parted lips, the blissful expression that covered your features. You were too much. 

“Fuck, baby,” Taehyung cursed. He closed his eyes, paying full attention to his growing pleasure. “You’re so beautiful.” 

He didn’t really mean to confess that out loud, but you didn’t seem to mind. You smiled, that gorgeous, drowsy smile you always gave him after he had made you cum, and Taehyung swore he was in heaven. “Are you gonna cum?” You asked, earning an eager nod in return. His hair was a mess over his eyes, sweaty and disorganized, covering his gaze as he looked down to see where the two of you met. You were made for him, your pussy was made for him, and he couldn’t take that idea out of his mind. “It’s okay, Tae, you can cum.” 

Again, the universe was mocking him, because within a few seconds he was doing just that. Taehyung pressed his forehead against your shoulder and spilled himself inside the condom, wishing profusely — pretending, almost — that the latex barrier wasn’t there, and that he was filling you up with his cum instead, making you his. And that was enough to prolong his high a little further, his cock throbbing as he dove into that fantasy. 

But, eventually, it had to end. 

The silence that followed was thick and overbearing, but comfortable regardless. Most of the time it went like that: with the two of you basking in the afterglow of your orgasms, drowning in the heat of one another without saying a word. Taehyung did not know what went on inside your head, but he knew that he needed those few seconds of silence to reset his thoughts, to try and bury the emotions that ever so gradually started to build up. 

Basically, he had to take a moment to remind himself that he had absolutely no chance with you. 

You sighed deeply, your fingers diving into Taehyung’s soft locks. He had collapsed against your chest, trying to regain his breath and, at the gentle caresses of your fingers, you felt his heart leap inside his chest, pounding against your skin. 

“That was nice,” you said daintily. He only hummed in agreement, worried he would slip and say something he didn’t mean to. “I have to go, though.” 

Just like that, Taehyung felt like he just got stabbed in the fucking jugular. He whipped his head away from your chest faster than he could think (after all, he should’ve enjoyed a few extra seconds of boob time if he had the chance) and his mouth fell open for a moment before his words finally came out. “Don’t— Don’t you wanna stay the night?” 

If you thought that his plea was desperate, which it was, you didn’t let it show. You smiled, leaning back to you could shift into a seating position on the bed. The two of you were facing each other then, so close and yet miles apart. “I don’t think I have the energy for round three,” you answered playfully. 

Taehyung had two conflicting answers fighting in his head. The first one was that it wasn’t for sex, something along the lines of “actually, I might be in love with you and I don’t want you to go”; the second one was the one that you wanted to hear: “it’s okay, I’ll do all the work anyways”. And, yet, as the brave battle continued inside his mind, he was left to stare in silence as you jumped out of the bed and started seeking for your clothes.

“Besides,” you continued, “I have that research presentation tomorrow.” 

Oh yeah, that stupid research thing. The reason why you had to schedule that Emergency Unwinding Session with Taehyung in the first place. His initial bliss, but his final demise. How poetic. 

“It’s fine, I get it.” Taehyung watched your little wiggling dance as you placed your pants back on. He would’ve teased you about it if his heart wasn’t in absolute shambles. “Can I see you later tomorrow, then?” 

You didn’t even hesitate to twist the blade. “Won’t happen. It’s Yongsun’s birthday and we are going to this fancy sushi bar downtown,” you said. The universe truly hated Taehyung and you were completely dressed by the time you leaned in to place a kiss against his forehead. “But we’ll figure something out. I owe you a third round.” 

Taehyung forced out a laugh, trying to brush away the storm cloud over his head. However, he couldn’t even convince himself that he was fine. “Sure. We can figure it out.” 

You hummed and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to make it a bit more presentable. “I have the copy of the keys that Jimin gave me, so you don’t have to worry about locking the door. Just go to sleep and I’ll lock it on my way out.” 

Taehyung simply nodded because he seriously didn’t think he could say anything without completely confessing his emotions. They were so bottled up that he felt them building up in his throat, like a shaken bottle of soda about to explode. 

“See you, Tae. Thanks for tonight,” you said on your way out of his room. 

He responded with a timid, “See you,” that he was a hundred percent sure you didn’t even hear. A few seconds later, the sound of his front door closing was like thunder echoing around his empty room. 

Taehyung sighed and threw himself back against the mattress, covering his eyes with the palm of his hand. He was so fucked. So fucking whipped. He just wanted to scream against his pillow until it all went away, but he knew that it wouldn’t. He couldn’t confess to you because he was sure that you didn’t feel the same, and he couldn’t let you go because he was selfish: he wanted you one way or another, even if he had to disguise his emotions and pretend that everything was fine. 

He removed his hand from his face and stared up at the white ceiling, at the slices of moonlight that came from his open window. Taehyung decided that he would just continue faking that he was fine with the idea of being friends with benefits with you. But could he do it? Could he keep it up? For how long? Taehyung had endured those acting sessions for a bit too long then, and he didn’t know how much he could take before he reached his breaking point. 

He groaned and rolled around on the bed. He just wanted to sleep. 

That was supposed to be easy.

[minshookie]

Petting Zoo.

Pairing | Stalker!Jungkook x reader

Genre | yandere,angst

Summary | “your secret admirer turned close friend wants to be more than just that, and he always gets his way.”

!warnings! | 18+ mature language, stalking , mentioned sexual acts, violence, sick pets, pet death...

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [closed for request] words: 2k.

A/N: another request done! I love taking a finishing request I just get so nervous in the end. Also trying something new. Any type of interaction is greatly appreciated! Edited, but please excuse errors. {should petting zoo be my first series?}

He knew you’d love it, you’ve always had a tender heart. The bunny coo’ed as he gently placed her into the plush box. He knew you were lonely, your roommate recently left you for her boyfriend, he knew fully that you were struggling. He’d push his ear against the wall to hear you two bicker in the deep hours of the night. He didn’t mind, he’d save you...but only if you let him.

Knowing your financial struggles, Jungkook went all out to make sure your bunny had the best even providing a months supply of food. He fully planned on this being the light of your month, you’d never stop thinking of him. He secured the new pet under one arm and the equipment under the other, he pushed his door open checking if the hall was clear. Of course, nice and clear just how he needed it, he slipped through the door with stealth leaving the gift in front of your door. With care he pulled the note card from his pocket perching it on top of the punctured box. Heavily he knocked before slipping inside his rightful apartment.

Leaning against the wall he listened for you to open your door. Finally when you did, it felt like his heart was attempting escape. Expertly he creeped to his door looking through it cracked ajar, he heard you read.

“I’m hopping mad for you, take me in as a friend, from your lover.” Fearfully you opened the whining box. In awe you gladly took in his gift, without a second thought. His heart fluttered he felt like floating in love, like in the cartoons hearts in his doe eyes.

Shutting the door he skipped to bed, exhausted his mind finally at ease, he finally has a shot with you! His heart was racing. He rolls onto his bead, head full of sweet thoughts of you, the plans he had for you. Closing his eyes he knew, this is only the beginning.

Overtime you’d grown fond of your new furry friend, inviting people over to meet your mysterious new fur ball of joy. With this new happiness and motivation, you started leaving your apartment more often. As a result Jungkook started seeing you a lot more and he loved it. He loved it so much that for some reason his schedule now aligned with yours almost perfectly.

You have a class? Oh so does he....would you like a ride? Time to head to work? How funny,him as well.....hop in!

Jungkook planned to be just what you needed, in a foreign place like this all you really needed was a honest friend. And he planned to be that and more. It isn’t hard to notice Jungkook loves it when you depend on him, you need him, your life would be in shambles without him. He knows it deep inside he believes it, but he knows you don’t. No worries for him though, you’ll see the truth soon...

Like any other day, like clockwork, Jungkook waited for you in front of your door like a royal guard. Today though he had plans for you, for days Jungkook perfected today’s schedule...big plans to tell you his feelings. Plans to pour his heart out to you, and to get yours poured to him, but something wasn’t sitting right.

you didn’t come on time, checking his watch like a mad man he paced in front of your door in anticipation. Your prolonged time inside threw off the agenda severely. Beside the settle irritation, he was worried something happened to you he was going insane. What if you left him? What if you died...what if someone kidnapped you?

Two seconds from ramming his fist against your door...Finally, while on the edge of his sanity your door creaked open. “Hey, running late today huh?” He looked your figure up and down. You weren’t dressed for the day, pajamas and Nikes weren’t your usual fashion choices.

“Oh, Kook it’s Bella she’s sick.” The whining animal sat curled into a ball inside of the pink carrier. Your voice floated to his ears, soft and worrisome. He crouched, looking into the dark cage. “Sick? Sick how?” He prodded his limber finger inside rubbing the frail animals head. “I-I don’t know she hasn’t been eating,her breathing is strange.” He could hear you on the verge of tears as he got up, slightly annoyed though he tried to hide it. “We’re late to class y/n maybe you should just leave her, she’ll be better later.” The way you batted your lashes told Jungkook he’d said something wrong. You griped the carrier locking your apartment door before begging to leave towards the elevator. “Wait Y/n where are you going?” You Kept walking carful not to rock the poor bunny too hard. “Kook, Bella is half dead and you want me to leave her? I’m taking her to the vet.”

He groaned coming closer as you waited for the aged elevator to reach you. “Yeah? Okay well wait for me I’ll take you.” The elevator stoped with a horrifying screech, you stepped in Jungkook was kicking your last nerve this morning. “I already had it planned for today.” He got closer barley missing the door, “Jin offered to take me.” The door closes quickly and you descend.

Jin? Did you say Jin? Like a angered child he almost stomped back to his apartment door. he threw his bag against it, crouching to search for his key inside. “If I knew she was going to bitch over the thing-” he cut himself off opening the door,kicking his bag inside. “ I bought the fucking bunny, who is he to take care of our bunny.”

He threw himself down onto his couch, unmotivated to go to class now, or do anything for that matter he decided to miss today, and maybe even tomorrow. He mentally facepalmed, of course Jungkook noticed you and the new older man downstairs getting closer. He didn’t think anything of it, until he saw him walking into your job when he came to pick you up. Handing you his cheap flowers and gifts whenever he’d see you around the building. Jungkook thought you were smarter than that, it made him fiery with anger thinking about him manipulating you. The only person that loved you was Him. How could you blow him off for some guy downstairs, some guy you didn’t even need.

He let his mind jump from one angering topic to another. Oh! And that fucking rabbit. Bella had been getting a lot of love from you recently, he didn’t mind he saw that pet as a connection between you two. But to suddenly you kick him to the side because the rodent refused to eat? From Bella to Jin, his head spun. He could feel his face heat up at the thought of Jin getting close to you in the car, touching you, playing with your hair. It made him sick, he could almost feel the bile in his throat. If it wasn’t for that walking ball of fur, you’d be in his car, getting touched and loved by him.

He sat up with a groan. “I’ll wait until she gets home.” He stood going to the kitchen grabbing a drink. “And I’ll talk to her, I’m sure she can explain, she’ll tell me the whole story.”

It seemed like decades before your laughter was heard coming into the hall. He’d been sitting facing his door, waiting for you, his hair disheveled his mind distraught. “Thanks Jin, talk to you later.” Your voice so sweet to him he felt himself physically react, oh how he missed you today. He heard the creak and slam of your door. What am I to say? Maybe I should ask about Bella? He got up fixing his appearance before leaving and turning to your door.

He cleared his throat before letting his knuckles beat against the hardwood. “Coming hold on!” He took a step back painfully waiting. Thankfully you arrived quicker than expected. “Hey Kookie.” You answer in hushed tones. “Hey, going to work today?” You shook your head “no, I called out on emergency.” He nodded hands in his pockets. “How’s Bella?” You looked behind yourself quickly, “Uhm, she’s a bit better just weak would you like to come see her actually?”

He nodded enthusiastically following you in, “sit down if you’d like.” You left him to go retrieve the sickly pet. He stood admiring the room, everything from the pictures to the decorative items resembled you, not only did it look like you but it smelt like you. Jungkook could swim in this scent all day.

“Here she is, a sleepy little one.” The soft hum coming from her sleeping figure earned endearment from you. Jungkook came closer rubbing her back softly. “So, why didn’t you ask me to take you this morning ?” You looked up from Bella. “I thought that you were gonna to be in class.” Your head tilted adorably. “Mm no, I’ll always wait for you.” He took Bella from your motherly arms. “Oh how sweet of you.”

“Hm So, since when have you been taking to Jin?” He looked at you inquisitively. “Jin? Eh Jin is... We’re...complicated, I’ve known him since I moved here he’s helped me quite a bit.” You answered keeping a loving gaze on Bella.

Jungkook felt himself grip the rabbit tighter he looked at you with furrowed brows. “Huh?” “I met him in a bar with my ex roommate, we’ve been talking since then.” You explained lightly trying to not hurt his feelings, of course you knew how Jungkook felt, and it wasn’t mutual.

You plopped onto the couch patting the cushions inviting him to sit. “He moved downstairs to be closer, he’s making a good effort but I’m not sure how I feel right now.” Sighing you toyed with your fingers, unaware of the grimace on Jungkook’s features.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he felt that he’d been lied to and he didn’t a appreciate that. “What do you think Koo, what should I do?” You asked, getting anxious at his sudden silence. He was upset and he was doing his best to hide it, with a sigh he sat next to you. “Don’t let him fuck up your mind y/n.” Confused you looked up to him, “we both know what you want.” You crossed your arms, curious. “What’s that?” Already being aggravated, he sighed deeply,letting the now awake rabbit escape onto the floor. “Me.” You were visibly taken aback by his unusual boldness.

“Uhm Jungkook.” Anxiously you rubbed the nape of your neck. “Y/n don’t pretend for Jin’s sake, I can hear you through the walls talking to friends about me.” Without noticing he started leaning towards you. “I’ve heard you in here being lewd with yourself, who was on your mind.” He could read the fear in your eyes, you grew uncomfortable at the personal information he was throwing at you. “Jungkook please wait-” “who was it?” You pushed a firm palm into his chest in attempts to get him away from you, the sweet dorky neighbor you’d befriended now lurking over you like a beast. “Who do you love y/n, c’mon?” “Kook-” “before you answer, know that I’ve always loved you it’ll never be complicated with me y/n you want better I can give you much be-” you pushed his muscular chest roughly to shut him up, your back now touching the arm of the couch. “I’m with Jin, Jungkook please leave I’m afraid.” A statement you thought would save you, turned to bite you right in the ass.

You could visibly see the anger play along his features, grimly he chuckled. “I’m not going any-fucking-where until you come to your senses.” He gripped the hand you had up against him. “Jungkook that hurts please I’m scared!” “You should be, how dare you use me, fucking whore I loved you!” He ran a finger over his lips, his emotions clashing harshly with each other. “I love you...but you probably let Jin fuck you silly, disgusting...but don’t worry you’ll learn.”

He proclaims pushing you to the floor, he rushes to slam and lock your apartment door. He turned and saw you clutching the coffee brown rabbit,sobbing. “Y-you fucking stepped on her Kook!” the whining of the pained animal began to creep onto his nerves. If that rodent wasn’t here you would’ve been going out with Jungkook today, and Jin wouldn’t stand a chance. He bent down pulling Bella from your clutch, with little to no struggle.

“You get what you want, and you run with it, you get what you want and you go snuggling under some other asshole huh?” He held the injured animal in a primal grip. Uncontrollable he’d held in his anger, his love,and his thoughts for far too long. “Kookie please...please...please no, l- I love you!” You desperately pleaded for your pets fragile life. “Never have I met a bitch that lies as much as you.” Coldly he responded, not appreciating your falsehood, he gripped Bella’s neck harshly putting the disturbed animal to death. “Jungkook!” You let out a shrill scream. “I bought her I can kick her to fucking curb if I want, go ask Jin for one, or did he lie and say he bought her.”

Silently all you could do is whimper and sob, the thud of Bella’s body made your throat constrict. His heavy steps near your quivering figure sending chills through you. “Say it like you mean it.” With no mental strength to look up, you collected yourself enough to speak. “I lo-ve you j-Jungkook.” He groaned. “Suck it up it was a fifty dollar animal, you’re pissing me off.” You’ve never heard him in this tone. “I love you so much, Kookie.” He gripped your chin forcing you to look at him. He pulled up his other hand slowly touching your face causing you to flinch. “Ah Ah don’t run.” He cleaned your glistening face.

“Now, tell me who we hate.” He looked into your eyes darkly. “J-Jin.” His once adorable smile, now made you want to vomit. “Good, and I’ll snap his puny neck if he gets in our way.” He brushed more tears from your features. Giving into his temptation he gripped the back of your neck, bringing his lips to yours before pulling back to whisper. “Now tell me, who were you thinking about during those lonely nights?” You shook swallowing thickly “and you better not lie.” Closing your eyes in defeat, warm tears spilled from you like a fountain. “You Jungkook.” Pleased he kissed you warmly, while you resisted the urge to react. “Keep being such a good girl, and I’ll get you a whole petting zoo of bunnies baby...would you like that?”

Not my image

[theladyofdeath]

Life As We Know It {Chapter Four}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Getting out of the lease on her townhouse proved to be easier than Nesta had expected. Her landlord was extremely understanding, especially under the conditions. She’d lived in the same place since she was in college, had never given him any trouble. She took care of her own problems, called her own plumbers and electricians, and had always taken it upon herself to fix anything that was wrong, rather than on his dime.

He’d even gotten her a parting gift on the day she moved everything out. A beautiful bouquet of flowers, and his condolences on her family’s loss.

As it was, mostly everything was moved into a storage unit, thanks to the furniture Rhys and Feyre already had in their home. But her clothes and some select important things came with her. 

It felt strange, at first, the moment Nesta carried Nyx through the door. She had just slept there, of course, but it was different this time. 

This time, Nesta was moving in to stay. 

This was no longer Feyre and Rhysand’s house, but Nesta and Cassian’s…and it felt strange, surreal. 

A thump came from upstairs that nearly had Nesta yelping. Nyx looked up at her and her startled expression and blew a raspberry. “What was that, hmm?” Nesta asked, quietly, setting her bag down as she closed the front door with her foot. She carried Nyx up the stairs and rounded the corner to the master bedroom to find Cassian staring at the mostly empty closet with his hands on his hips. “Find something interesting in there?”

“Shit!” he cursed, spinning around to find the pair in the doorway. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that.”

“I can do whatever I want,” Nesta said, plainly. “Especially when it’s in my room.”

Cassian’s brows shot into his hairline. “I’m sorry…your room?”

“Yes,” she said, swapping Nyx from one hip to the other. “I’ve been staying here for nearly three weeks at this point. I’ve been the one here taking care of him.”

“So that entitles you to the master bedroom?” He asked.

“It does,” she replied and Nyx began squirming. She put him down and he began crawling towards Cassian, tugging on the strings of his boots.

Cassian stooped down to pick the baby up, who instantly began patting Cassian’s face, a habit he’d picked up just before Rhys and Feyre’s accident. Cassian grinned down at him, but then he looked back to Nesta. The smile fell as he beheld Nesta watching him with her arms crossed.

Cassian sighed. “Look-.”

“No, no,” Nesta interrupted. “I’m taking this room. I need the space, and I’m a woman, so I would prefer the private bathroom.”

Cassian watched her for a long moment. “Fine.” Nesta was about to turn on her heels to get the rest of her belongings, but then Cassian continued, “But, you have to say please.”

Nesta tensed in the doorway. “What?”

“Say please and it’s yours,” he said, shrugging.

Nyx looked back and forth between Cassian and Nesta.

She blinked, staring at him.

“You heard me,” he said, leaning down to grab his backpack from where he’d dropped it on the floor. He hefted it onto his other shoulder, Nyx still staring between them. “Say please and the room is yours. And make it genuine, I want to believe you.”

“And if I don’t?” She asked, bracing herself for a fight.

He shrugged and tossed his backpack onto the bed. “Then it looks like we’re sharing. Just so you know, I’m a blanket hog.”

She narrowed her eyes, watching as he sat down on the edge of the bed, plopping Nyx down on the mattress next to him. He crawled up to the top of the bed, plopping down atop one of the pillows.

Cassian could have sworn her teeth were grinding as she said, “May I please have the bedroom?”

He smirked, asking, “Was that so hard?” and stood, grabbing his bag again, before brushing past her as he headed down the hall, taking the room across from Nyx’s nursery.

Nesta groaned, closing her eyes and sighing, before she heard the door opening downstairs.

“Hello, hello!”

She scooped Nyx up off the bed, and made her way downstairs, finding Elain, Azriel, Gwyn, Mor and Emerie in the entryway. Mor was wiggling her fingers at Nyx, and Nesta handed him over to her. He giggled as she lifted him in the air and Nesta hugged her friends. “Thank you for coming.” 

“Of course,” Emerie said, taking a look around. “You shouldn’t do this alone.”

Nesta nodded and another thump came from upstairs. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Cassian’s here already, then?” Azriel asked.

“He’s here and he’s driving me mad,” Nesta muttered. 

Azriel chuckled as he hurried up the stairs, leaving the women alone.

“Okay,” Gwyn said, propping her hands on her hips and looking around. “What do you need us to do?”

Nesta hesitated. There was so much already in this house that felt like it belonged there, so much of Rhys and Feyre that Nesta didn’t feel like she should touch.

As if she was reading her thoughts, Elain stepped forward, slipping her arm through hers. “This is your home now, too. Part of them will always be here, but you have to make it yours now.” Nesta nodded, wiping away the damn tears that kept making an appearance, but jumped slightly when a loud bang came from upstairs and Azriel and Cassian both laughed. Elain added, with a laugh of her own, “Yours and Cassian’s, I guess.”

“I wish I would stop being reminded of that fact,” Nesta said, attempting a joke as she continued to wipe at her damp cheeks. 

“Ignore Cassian?” Emerie chuckled. “That’s impossible. He likes to make himself known too much for that.”

After a chorus of laughter, Nesta was giving everyone a role. It was all just so surreal, too surreal. It was a position that Nesta would have never imagined herself to be in, especially as she opened Feyre’s closet and stared. 

Nesta had always admired Feyre’s style, even though most of her jeans had paint splatters on them. She reached up to go through the series of band tees hanging on the top rod. She chuckled at one from the Jonas Brothers concert that they’d gotten back in 2011. Nesta had taken Elain and Feyre one weekend when their dad was out of town on business. She’d bought them both t-shirts and cds and overpriced sodas from the arena’s concession stand. 

It had been a good night.

And Feyre had kept the t-shirt for ten years, even though there was a coffee stain on Nick Jonas’ face and a rip in the hem. Nesta took the shirt off the hanger and held it up. It was too small for her. It would never fit.

Nonetheless, Nesta folded the shirt neatly and put it on top of the dresser before taking down the rest of Feyre’s clothes and folding them into a bin.

She hadn’t realized the tears had returned until Emerie and Gwyn came in, the former holding a sleeping, drooling Nyx. 

Feyre’s closet had been nearly emptied. Neither of Nesta’s closest friends said a word as they entered and sat next to Nesta on the bed, one of them on each side.

Silently, they pulled Nesta into their arms.

*

Cassian looked at the broken bed frame in the guest room. 

He and Azriel started roughhousing the moment he’d come up the stairs, and it resulted in the old, rickety bed unable to hold two untamed Illyrians.

Does this mean I won?

You’ve never won in a wrestling match with me, Cass.

Looking at it now, however, Cassian was wondering how he’d take the rest apart without waking Nyx up from his afternoon nap.

“How many times have we slept in this room after a night of drinking too much?” Azriel asked.

Cassian chuckled from where he was putting his clothes in the small, empty dresser. “Too many. Feyre wouldn’t let us drive after even one drink at dinner.”

Azriel chuckled, quietly. “She always was a mother hen, long before Nyx.” 

“She had to be,” Cassian said, “look at Rhys’s choice of friends.”

Azriel grinned. “Speak for yourself.” 

He snorted. “Need I remind you of Spring Break, senior year?”

The grin fell slightly into a cringe. “Okay, maybe there are times that I fall into that category as well.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. He looked back at the bed, even the bedding somewhat in shambles. “Haven’t even lived in the house for an hour and we already broke something.”

Azriel chuckled, following his gaze. “Rhys would be proud.”

Grinning, Cassian nodded. “Feyre would have our asses.”

They worked in silence, for a while, listening to the women’s voices throughout the house.

At one point, Cassian could hear Nesta sobbing quietly from the room down the hall.

His shoulders tensed.

Azriel must have seen it, because he cleared his throat. “You know, Elain says Nesta’s not so bad.”

“And what do you think?” Cassian asked, tossing his empty duffle bag in the corner. 

Azriel was quiet for a moment then shrugged. “I’ve never had an issue with her.” Cassian huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well, you never have issues with anyone.” He shook his head as he leaned back against the wall. “I feel like I’m living a dream right now. I have no idea what’s happening, and it’s all happening way too fast.”

It was happening far too quickly. Everything. All of it.

Cassian felt like he was in the middle of a hurricane, lost and alone and confused with no end in sight.

*

Everyone had left, and only the three of them remained.

Nesta, Cassian, and Nyx.

Nesta realized this is how it would be from now on, and that realization made her chuckle out of pure absurdity. 

Cassian had asked to put Nyx to bed, and Nesta didn’t argue as he took him from her, from where Nyx had fallen asleep in Nesta’s arms on the couch.

She watched them disappear up the stairs, and she wasn’t really sure what to do after that, where to go. Should she just have gone back to her room, shut herself inside, and pretend that nothing else existed?

Cassian came back down the stairs just as Nesta stood up. As he reached the bottom, they acknowledged each other, uncomfortably.

“Well,” Nesta began, nodding slowly. “I guess I’ll be going to bed.”

Cassian didn’t say anything until she had brushed past him and gone halfway up the stairs. “Don’t you think that we should, you know, set some ground rules?”

She paused. “Like what?”

“Like who takes care of what?” He asked. “Who gets what nights off and-?”

“Nights off?” Nesta asked, blinking. “We have to take care of a child, Cassian. We don’t get nights off.”

“You know Az and Elain still go out once in a while. As long as one of us is here to watch him, he’s taken care of,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I would like to be able to go out on a Saturday night, with Az and Luce, so-.”

“Why would you get Saturday night?” She asked, her eyes widening. “I spend all day at the restaurant, all week long. If anyone gets Saturdays, it’s me. Besides, you’re a bartender, shouldn’t you be working those nights?”

“Friday nights are my money nights, so no, I’ll be off,” he said, crossing his arms. His legs widened slightly, and Nesta knew a fighting stance when she saw one.

“So I’m supposed to take Friday nights? How’s that going to work, if you’re at the bar, Cassian?” Cassian hesitated, and Nesta scoffed. “See? That won’t work.”

“You can take Sunday nights,” Cassian said, at last.

“The night before I have to wake up at five to be at the restaurant by six?” Nesta asked. “Oh, thank you so much for that kindness.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “Your sarcasm isn’t necessary. And two minutes ago you thought the idea of a night off was ridiculous, anyway!”

“Well, if you get a night off, so do I!” Nesta yelled.

Cassian raked a frustrated hand through his hair. “Fine. How about we switch saturdays? You get two Saturday’s a month, and I get two Saturday’s a month.”

She clamped her mouth shut, fighting the urge to grind her teeth together. “Fine.”

He nodded. “Fine.”

They both stayed where they were, not moving or giving up an inch of ground.

“I’m going to go to bed then,” she said, the bite still in her voice.

“Goodnight then,” he said, and though the words were civil, they were still sharp. It was almost humorous.

“Goodnight.” With that, she turned and was stomping up the stairs.

She could feel Cassian’s eyes on her and she disappeared.

The audacity. 

She was fully aware that Cassian was full of himself, but wanting every Saturday night off?

She knew it.

He wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t ready for the responsibility of raising a child. She couldn’t expect him to be, though. Shit, she wasn’t ready, either. The only difference was that she was starting to learn all that being a guardian entailed and he surely was not.

She shut the bedroom door behind her, and considered locking it, but decided not to and looked at the clock.

it was barely eight-thirty, but she was exhausted. That had been the past few weeks though, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been awake at ten o’clock. She leaned against the shut door, letting her head fall back.

If she listened hard enough, she could hear him moving downstairs. Heard the fridge open and knew he was pulling one of Rhysand’s beers out. Nesta sighed, wishing she had thought to get at least a glass of wine before she’d shut herself in here.

If she went back out now, she’d look stupid. And she’d have to talk to Cassian again.

Not over her dead body.

So she did the next best thing, filling the massive garden tub in the corner of the bathroom, and settled into it. She sighed, letting the hot water seep into her bones.

And then there was a knock on the bedroom door.

She sunk deeper in the tub. “What?” She called, eyeing the open bathroom door.

There was a pause. “Is it time for Nyx’s bedtime bottle?”

Nyx was cut down to two bottles a day: one in the morning and one at night. Although he had been getting breast milk before the accident, Nesta had already worked through the remaining breast milk that had been in the freezer.

That morning had been his first formula bottle.

He’d been confused at first. Surely there was a difference in taste. However, Nyx eventually realized he wasn’t getting anything else and drank it down, anyway. 

“Was he fussing?” Nesta asked.

There was a thump against the door and Nesta assumed Cassian had fallen into it. “Yeah. Wasn’t crying, but he was about to.”

“Yeah. Formula is on the counter in the kitchen. Check his diaper first,” Nesta said.

She didn’t hear a response, so she assumed he’d gone to handle it, when a few minutes later another knock sounded. This time it was accompanied by a frantic crying.

She was out of the tub, grabbing a towel and digging through a box she’d packed the night before for her robe. Just as Cassian started talking, she got to the door, pulling it open.

He paused, taking in her attire, or lack thereof. Nyx was still crying, which knocked him back into motion. He raised his hand, holding up an empty bottle. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt-.”

She took the bottle, shaking her head, and brushing past him to head down the stairs. She didn’t snap at him, not when she knew he’d never had to prepare a bottle before. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t irritated.

“You couldn’t read the directions on the back of the box?” she asked, then muttered. “Just like a man.”

When she looked back over her shoulder, Cassian was close behind, Nyx tugging on the end of his shaggy hair as he wailed. If he heard Nesta, he didn’t deign to reply. 

Nesta sighed, carrying the bottle over and filling it with water from a newly opened jug on the counter. “You don’t have to warm it up anymore. He can drink it with room temperature water. It’s pretty easy. Fill it up to the eight ounce mark on the bottle, measure four scoops of formula and dump them in.” She did just that, measuring out each scoop carefully but quickly. “Then shake.” She handed the bottle to Cassian, who started shaking the bottle.

“How long do I shake?” he asked.

Nesta almost wanted to laugh at how frantic, how wild-eyed he looked. Here was Cassian Nazari, shaking a bottle with a screaming baby on his hip. “That’s good. Just give it to the poor kid.” 

Nyx snatched it from Cassian as he lowered it towards his face, holding it on his own. Cassian’s hand hovered close by and he looked up at her. “Can he do that? I mean, should I let him? Or should I hold it?”

Her face softened as she watched her nephew, his tears stopping almost immediately. “He’s fine. Maybe use a hand to support it just in case, but he can handle it.”

He nodded, looking down at the baby as well. His blue eyes were wide as he watched them, glancing from Nesta to Cassian, and back.

He said, softly, “I wonder if he realizes they aren’t coming back yet.”

The words nearly broke Nesta’s heart. Her words were as quiet as his. “ I don’t know… That’s not exactly something you can explain to a one-year-old.”

His nod was slow. “It doesn’t seem fair. They didn’t deserve this.”

Nesta’s throat was tight as she started back toward the stairs. “Life isn’t always fair, Cass. The Cauldron isn’t always fair.”

[whoracefitz]

Alrighty, I haven’t posted my writing in a while. But, here we go. (It’ll be a while before I post this to ao3 so..)

alternative title: look after you /// sokka baby daddy modern au! (If you’ve seen the show then perfect! If not then it’s alright!)

word count: 1500

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“Are you sure we got all the decorations?” Aang asks, almost fumbling with a bag of gifts to uphold Katara’s banner. “We need decorations, gifts and—“

Toph mumbled something under her breath before taking the gift bags. “Maybe next time I’ll read the list so we’re sure. But, Sugar Queen isn’t picky plus we got the big stuff!” Toph exclaimed, rushing up the stairs hoping it cleared some of Aang’s anxiety. She did attempt several times to talk Aang out of his harmless crush before Katara left to study abroad. Sure, she teases him the most out of everyone but she cared too much to see him fall deeply when it wasn’t reciprocated.

“Yeah, Toph you can read the list,” Aang’s eyes squint as he realizes Toph’s statement. “I fell for it again,” his face falls but he doesn’t hold it for too long before he chuckles watching Toph poke her head over the banister sticking her tongue out at him.

“You gotta get up a bit earlier to beat the blind bandit,” Toph smirks, as she nudges at him realizing he didn’t have his keys. “You left your keys again didn't you?” She rolls her eyes kicking at his shared apartment door with Zuko and Sokka.

“You don’t even get up early, and you snore loudly at that,” Aang complained. The plan was as follows: Aang spends the night at Toph so they could run errands for Katara’s return. “I could hear your snoring in the other room,” Aang inhaled his breath to make a rattling sound and ended it off with slow beats.

Toph shrugged her shoulders. “My apartment, therefore my snores live there too,” They could hear Zuko and Sokka shuffle on the other side of the door. “What’s taking these idiots so long?” Toph raised her foot above the ground to kick at the door again before Zuko appeared on the other side preparing to scold her.

“Aang, next time tell Toph don’t kick at our door. Toph, quit kicking the door,” Zuko’s arms were folded across his chest and his grey shirt and plaid pajama pants both had very large wet spots with little specks of white in the area. “We have a bit of a problem,” Zuko ushered them inside, removing the few bags out of Toph’s hand. As they followed Zuko through the living room which was in shambles—there was an open diaper bag, infant clothes scattered between the couch and chairs. The bright blue car seat remained parked near the couch with a small elephant blanket draped over it.

“I didn’t know me spending the night with Toph meant being replaced with a roommate,” Aang felt Toph wrap her hands around his arm as he guided her over the remaining baby items on the floor.

“Who let you two have a baby and why?” Toph yelped out after nearly tripping over a baby’s instrument that was left on the floor. “I’d sit down but I’m assuming there’s nowhere to sit!”

“Toph, that’s not helpful,” Aang replied, “We need to be supportive,”

“I’m sure this mess isn’t helping this baby either. Which one of you messed up? You should return the baby back!” Toph rested her hands against her hips. “If I get a milk stain on my new shorts you owe me!”

“Don’t blame me,” Zuko fussed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sokka’s the one who—“

Sokka burst out of their bathroom down the hall, his damped clothes were glued to his body. But, as for the tawny-toned, round-faced infant in his arms, she was having a fit of giggles. “That’s not funny, Kita,” He swayed with Kita wrapped in the towel as reached for Sokka’s disheveled hair on his shoulders. “Zuko, I thought we agreed on not assuming who sweet little Kita belongs too? Now, if you want to be helpful pass me a onesie,”

“Sokka, you can’t be serious!” Zuko grabbed the nearest blue onesie from the couch. “The blue round eyes are a give away,” He flung the piece of clothing with one hand while Sokka stepped back in the bathroom.

“She could be Aang’s daughter then?” Sokka replied walking back to the common area. “Did you get everything for the party?”

“Party aside, Sokka, you have to take responsibility. Kita even inherited Yue’s bright colored hair. What would Katara say?” Aang raised an eyebrow. Sokka and Yue didn’t end on bad terms from Aang's perspective, they just stopped understanding each other. It was a mutual break-up. He didn’t want to throw Katara in this situation to belittle him but she’d be a lot harder on him than they were currently being.

Sokka began pacing back and forth with the seven month old. He knew the possibilities were very high that she was his. He hadn’t seen Yue in almost two years, he wouldn’t have ran if she told him the truth. But, abruptly dropping off a seven month old girl in the middle of the night with documents wavering her rights over wasn’t the best way either. There were even a couple of notes on who he could call, and a ton of ultrasound pictures. He certainly wasn’t a teen, but at twenty-three years old he was a little shaken up. “I’m scared alright, there you have it. Tell me how'd you react? I’m all ears,”

“Sokka, it’s perfectly normal to be scared,” Zuko reassured, patting at Sokka’s shoulders. “We’ll help you figure this out and you need to tell your family,”

“Thanks, I really appreciate that,”

“Oh, I was just thinking of what Katara would say but I do agree if that helps,”

“You should’ve kept that to yourself, Hotman,”

“What did I tell you about calling me that Aang?”

“It’s a good nickname! How come Toph is the only one who gets to do them?”

“I don’t even like when she calls me Sparky,”

“If we’re getting new nicknames can Snoozles be changed?”

“No, that’s not at all what we’re doing!”

“But, you just said you didn’t like your nickname!” Aang and Sokka complained in unison.

“While you three debate over that, give me little Wolfie,” Toph moved the diaper bag to the floor, while relieving her from Sokka’s arms. Kita occupied herself by grabbing at Toph’s face or stuffing her own fingers in her mouth. “You guys can start setting up the decorations,”

“Did you just con us into doing all the major work?” Aang yelled from the kitchen pulling out the hammer and nails for the banner.

“Possibly,” Toph shrugged, holding her hands out for Kita to smack. “Plus Zuko has to start the cooking, and Sokka has to clean this mess up,”

It took about two hours for them to really get everything moving. Toph was focused on keeping little Kita busy, she enjoyed babies for the most part they were hand-ons with everything after a certain age. However, Auntie Toph had drawn the lines at changing dirty diapers. She did enjoy hearing Sokka, Aang and Zuko argue over whose turn it was to change the foul mess.

While the plan was for Katara to be surprised by her closest family and friends she had others plans herself. There was an issue with scheduling for another passenger on the plane so Katara had sneaky swapped tickets. She contacted Suki, who now becoming the middle didn’t want to ruin the surprise on both sides and found ways to stall.

Yet, while picking up Katara and Sokka’s relatives and making a few final rounds to the stores couldn’t beat the surprise of waiting for them at the apartment.

“I’m so excited! It’s been four months since I’ve been with everyone, I hope I didn’t miss anything,” Katara exclaimed. “You know I was really worried about going,”

Hakoda pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. “You needed to branch out on your own,” He felt prideful in both of his children everyday, they were vastly different but carried the same level of ambition to succeed.

“Yagoda contacted me all about your work. I can’t wait to hear it from you, now let’s get inside,” Gran-Gran commented, pulling Katara in for another hug. “But, as proud as I am of you, I missed you two much.”

Suki couldn’t get a chance to knock on the apartment door before Zuko opened it revealing a sleeping Sokka on the couch with Kita resting on his chest. While Aang and Toph both slept next to each other in the corner.

The Southern family and Suki held the same confused gaze. “It’s a lot to explain,” Zuko tried to say. What he really wanted to do was grab hold of Katara after not seeing her for so long, but that could wait.

“Suki?”

“Yes, Katara?”

“Please, pour up those cups of Cactus Juice,”

“Does anyone else want a cup?”

“I’ll take one, I need to be real comfortable for this story,”

“Dad, are you gonna let her drink Cactus Juice?”

“Honey, we’re all going to need it for this story,”

[voiceless-terror]

Respite (The Magnus Archives)

Whumptober 2020 Day Twenty Three: Exhaustion

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Jonathan Sims, Sasha James, Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood, Elias Bouchard, Rosie

Summary: Archiving is hard work, but someone’s got to do it.

Or, five people who caught Jonathan Sims sleeping on the job.

“Alright Jon, I think I’m going to head out-oh.”

Sasha had been gone for five minutes, tops. And yet here was Jonathan Sims, fast asleep in his chair and using her messenger bag as a pillow. And snoring.

They worked late into the night on some hunch Jon had - once he got on a research kick, there was no stopping him. Sasha wasn’t much better. They encouraged the worst in each other sometimes, but that’s how they got their sterling reputations as researchers. So this was not an unfamiliar scene.

But it was ten at night and Sasha had been looking forward to finally getting home, putting her feet up and knocking back a glass of wine or two. They had hit a dead end and wouldn’t be able to continue until tomorrow, anyway. Jon had begrudgingly agreed and she popped over to the bathroom only to return to...this. 

It couldn’t be comfortable. Her bag was covered in buttons and pins, some particularly pointy. It wasn’t exactly clean either; it had been thrown on one too many questionable surfaces in the past few months. But Jon seemed comfortable, if his open mouth and the tiny bit of drool currently on the front pouch were anything to go by. Gross.

She contemplated waking him up. He would want to head home soon as well, the trains became entirely unpredictable the later it got and they boarded at the same station. But something stopped her. Maybe it was the dark shadows under his eyes, the small, wheezing breaths. The way his brow slightly furrowed even in sleep. The crankiness that increased as the week went on. If anyone deserved a quick rest, it was him. 

Sasha had been in the job for three years before Jon came on. She cut her teeth in Artefact Storage for the first six months- initially she’d been excited to delve into the dangerous and mysterious objects they had on site, but that excitement quickly faded into dread after a week on the job. She got the first transfer out into research, much more her speed. She was steadily making her way up the ladder and was now trusted to train new hires and interns. Ergo, Jon.

When she first met him, she honestly thought he wouldn’t make it far. He was fresh out of college, twitchy and short-tempered with an intermittent stutter. She didn’t fault him for that of course, but that didn’t save him from the judgment of others. No one wanted to get within a mile of him until Sasha volunteered her services in a rare moment of pity. His hand was dry and shook in hers when they were introduced; he was clearly not used to touch, though surely he must have shaken many a hand by now. 

Sasha was good at teaching, though she wasn’t very interested in it. “You should teach!” so many of her friends and family members said. Sasha hated being told what to do even more than she hated teaching.

Jon was a difficult student. He had constant questions that Sasha patiently answered. He did not take criticism well, once getting up and walking away for an hour after Sasha fixed his grammar. He couldn’t seem to focus, which was not at all promising in a career that demanded it. Still, she worked with him as a sort of pet project. If she could make a functioning researcher out of Jon, she could prove herself worthy of respect and perhaps a promotion or two herself. So she figured out how Jon ticked- what worked for him and what didn’t. It took some hard work but Jon opened up bit by bit, giving her more insight into the person he was. And he wasn’t all that bad, once you got past the prickly exterior. He was whip-smart with a dry, clever humor that Sasha could appreciate. When he got on the trail of something interesting, he followed it to the end with a dogged determination. Sasha found herself opening up in turn, talking to him about her past jobs in academia and her frustrations with the Institute. They had a lot in common, it turned out. Both were academics at their core, finding debate and discussion endlessly entertaining. They both had a soft spot for nice wine and greasy pub food. And they were both constantly underestimated and overlooked- Sasha, as a woman in her field with a tendency towards “aggressive behavior” which in any man would just be called confidence and expertise, Jon with his inability to read social situations, the stutter in his voice that undermined his points, and the painful earnestness in every word he said, no matter how pointed. So yes, they got on. He made her laugh. That was hard to do these days. 

Five more minutes, she promised, sitting back down at the table with a fond look to her companion. Thirty minutes later she woke him up, smiling at his panicked embarrassment and laughing in exhilaration as they ran to the station, just barely making the last train.

___________

What does Elias think he’s playing at, putting this poor young man in charge of the Archives?

Rosie had worked at the Magnus Institute for two decades and had seen many a manager come and go. She was Elias’s first and only secretary, coming in a bright-eyed young girl and now a tired, disillusioned woman firmly in middle age. You see a lot of things at the Institute. Sometimes you have to turn a blind eye.

When Gertrude Robinson went missing, Elias handled the situation with a bizarre aloofness that Rosie felt no need to question. Questioning things got you in trouble around here. But when he told Rosie of his plans for Jonathan Sims, she had to stop herself from scoffing. She had seen the way Elias spoke to him, mentoring him in a way he never had with any other employee. Perhaps he just had a fondness for the boy, though she wasn’t sure what he had done to earn it. Jon never got used to Elias’s presence, constantly jumping at a hand on his shoulder and laughing nervously through any of their conversations. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so pitiful.

But to make him Head Archivist? The man had only been here four years, there were plenty of other researchers and staff members who had not only seniority but the credentials to match. Jonathan Sims had an Oxford pedigree, impressive to be sure, but in Literature and History. It didn’t help that he seemed one missing file away from a nervous breakdown at all times. And they were going to give him an entire department to manage? A department that was in shambles and hadn’t been properly handled in the last fifty or so years? Good luck, kiddo.

She had been a little short with him the day he took the position- she had a monster of a headache and he wasn’t exactly making it easy on her, what with his questions about Gertrude and his ridiculous little proclamations of “I don’t believe in ghosts!” But the sincere gratitude in his voice as he told her to thank Elias for the opportunity came back to her hours later. You have no idea what you’re in for. It seemed almost sadistic to put a man like that in charge of the Archives.

The situation never seemed to improve. From what little she saw of him in the hallways, he always looked haggard and on edge. When he stood in front of Elias’s door waiting to be let in for another meeting (Elias had been scheduling a lot of them as of late), his hands fidgeted and his feet shuffled. She felt bad for him, when she remembered to. She had twenty years to get used to Elias, but he seemed to get worse with every visit to his office.

It was with a reluctant sigh that she took the paperwork from Elias and headed down to the Archives. Just a few things that slipped my mind on the last visit, so sorry Rosie. It was the end of the day and she was punctual to a fault, meaning she very rarely stayed past five unless Elias requested it. Even the Archives were empty- the assistants had all filtered out earlier and her footsteps echoed in silence as she made her way to the Head Archivist’s office.

“Mr. Sims?” she called, immediately regretting the choice of name. It sounded unnatural coming out of her mouth. “Jon, are you in there?” There was no one in his desk chair, though his bag and coat were still accounted for. She was not about to do a scavenger hunt through the Archives, the place gave her the creeps and it got worse with each passing minute. She contemplated just leaving them on his desk when she saw a half-opened door labeled “Document Storage.” I’ll just peek in, can’t hurt. 

“Jon?” she called again, creaking open the door and peering inside. It was not very well-lit; half of the lights were flickering like something out of a horror film. No one answered her. “Jon, if you’re here I have a few papers for you to sign. I’ll just leave them on your desk-” It was then she noticed a cot in the corner. That’s not allowed, she thought testily. It was rumpled- somebody had used it recently, she deduced. And then she looked down to the floor to find one leg sticking out from under the cot. She shrieked, grabbing at her chest as she slowly made her way over, unsure of whether she was about to die or if she had to call an ambulance. 

She kneeled down gingerly, her legs trembling as she found one Jonathan Sims entangled with a small, tattered blanket and snoring softly, completely lost to the world. She sighed in relief and no small amount of irritation- the man had just taken about three years off her life, at least. And what was he doing under the cot? Such a strange thing, that Jonathan Sims.

She reached out and grabbed his arm, giving it a good shake. “Jon!” He kept right on sleeping, completely ignorant to her entreaties. She gave him another, harder shake- nothing. This is ridiculous. She leaned in closer and opened her mouth to give one last deafening shriek of his name. “Jon!”

That did the trick. Too well, one might say.

Jon immediately sat up, which wasn’t a good idea- he only had a few inches of room left under the bed and ended up slamming his head against the metal rungs and leaning back down with a cry. “Agh!” he squeezed his eyes shut as she reached out her hand in apology.

“God, I’m so sorry,” she babbled, patting his arm. “It’s just, you weren’t waking up and- are you alright?” His silence was worrying. Oh god, Elias is going to murder me if I’ve killed his Archivist.

“Yes,” he hissed, awkwardly sliding out from under the bed in a sort of shimmying motion and rubbing at his forehead. Luckily he hadn’t broken any skin, it was just red at the point of impact. “What on earth- ah, Rosie!” The instant switch in tone as his eyes focused on her form would be amusing in any other situation. “So sorry, d-did Elias need anything from me?”

She paused, considering the man in front of her. He looked bad, really bad, like call-the-doctor-bad. Thinner than ever with dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn’t had a good nights’ sleep in weeks, if ever. And that look in his eyes, the change in his voice as soon as he noticed her- Elias had sway even through proxy. Suddenly Mr. Sims was all eager-to-please, as if he hadn’t just been caught collapsed under a bed in sheer exhaustion.

“What are you doing under there?” is what she asked, though she did not mean to. She wasn’t really supposed to care about anyone in the institute and she’d done a good job of it thus far. But something about this situation felt off, even to her. 

He ran a hand through messy hair (he’s going gray so young) and gave her a self-deprecating smile. “Ah, just a- I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.” He made no attempt to explain his odd choice of napping area. “If you could please not tell Elias-”

“Of course,” she assured, again strangely protective of the silly little man in front of her. “Think nothing of it- just need you to sign a few papers, is all.” She got up to allow him room to move, ignoring the creaking of limbs far too young to sound so bad. “Should probably use the bed next time, dear. That floor’s got to be horrible on your back.”

Jon blushed, grabbing at the papers and looking anywhere but her eyes. “Yes, well,” he shifted his feet, gesturing at the tattered blanket he had extracted himself from. “I’ve got that, so it’s fine.”

She fixed him with a dubious stare, but let him have this one. He headed back to his office to grab a pen, limping in obvious pain. The papers were signed and they said their goodbyes, Rosie heading home and Jon heading back to Document Storage, whether to sleep or work she couldn’t tell.

In her next round of discretionary spending, she ordered a few pillows and a nice knitted throw for the Archives. The break room had been looking a bit drab, it deserved a little sprucing up.

______________

“Mr. Stoker, if you could come get your Archivist I’d be much obliged.” 

“I’m on it, Janice.”

Tim sighed. Just another Wednesday night at the Magnus Institute.

Jon was running them ragged with investigations, following up on every statement he deemed ‘unsatisfactory’ in terms of research. So far, he had deemed almost every statement as so. It was not very fun. 

Tim had taken pains to finish his research bright and early, wanting to get home as quickly as possible and finish up the series he’d been binging. This plan included the added plus of avoiding the worms that had been showing up outside the institute over the past couple of days. But then Jon had come out of his office, looking sad and lost as he handed over another statement for Tim to work on. “Tomorrow is fine, Tim,” Jon said, in an uncharacteristic show of generosity. “No need to worry.” Tim was worried now, for an entirely different reason. 

He promised himself he would only stay an extra hour, just to make sure Jon got home alright. That was two hours ago. Jon had apparently snuck out to the library without him noticing, and now needed to be fetched for reasons Tim was pretty sure he could guess at.

Jon was never really on good terms with the librarians. What he lacked in charm, he did not make up for in well, anything really. He got upset when a book was in the wrong place; he was very short whenever something would take longer than a few minutes. He constantly hid from the librarians when it was time to close- one night he was quite literally chased out by Janice, and another night he was locked in (also by Janice) and didn’t even notice.

So finding him tucked in between two bookshelves fast asleep was not surprising in the least. It didn’t look comfortable but Jon seemed fairly relaxed, crammed as he was. This had happened more than a few times back in research but never recently. And never was he quite so hidden away, not even a limb giving away his position. He knew Jon liked his small spaces, but even this was pushing it. Janice hadn’t attempted to wake him, knowing what a fools errand it would be. “That boy could sleep through the end of days, I reckon,” she said as she opened the door for Tim and ushered him down the aisles. “I don’t know how he does it.”

“That makes two of us,” Tim mumbled as he crouched down in front of the man he previously called a friend and now a boss. “Jon? You up, mate?”

No response. Typical. Tim could keep this going for the rest of the night, or he could take matters into his own hands. 

Let it never be said that Tim wasn’t hands-on.

He managed to maneuver Jon into his arms without waking the man, a feat he’d perfected over the years. Jon, for his part, just slumped into his chest and muttered some nonsense under his breath that Tim couldn’t make out. Jon was a fairly vocal sleep-talker, something he found endlessly amusing. This situation was anything but amusing, however, and he could barely summon up a smile to give Janice as he carted his boss back down to the Archives.

Jon was falling back into old habits. He was becoming distant and moody, snapping at any inquiry about his health or well-being. It took all of Tim’s strength not to snap back at times. Sasha helped keep him in check, giving him warning glances whenever she believed he went too far, which was happening more and more often. He was afraid for the frail man in his arms. He had a strange sense of impending calamity that woke him up in the middle of the night, heart racing like it did after his encounter with the circus. It awoke a strange, primal fear inside of him that Tim couldn’t control and it crept in more and more by the day. 

Even when Jon was safe and comfortable, tucked neatly into the cot in Document Storage, the fear didn’t ease. He wanted to stay and keep watch, though that didn’t make much sense. The Archives were probably the safest place to be. Nothing could reach them in this dank, dusty prison cell of a workplace. Not even Prentiss. But he was tired, so he decided to leave Jon to his dreams and chew him out tomorrow morning. Now wasn’t the time.

He took a quick detour to his desk and back to Document Storage before he left, throwing one of his cardigans over Jon’s sleeping form. Just in case he gets cold, he reasoned. In reality, he didn’t know who it was actually for- Jon or himself. Maybe both.

_________

This is ridiculous.

Initially, he had been happy and slightly proud to see his Archivist stumbling back into work, bleeding and freshly marked by the Corruption. He of course told him the opposite, encouraging him to take all the time available to him to recover. But his Archivist was nothing if not stubborn, and watching him limp about the Archives, paranoid and afraid, was a wonder to behold. 

Today, however, might not have been the best time to come back.

The Magnus Institute, on paper, had a fully functioning HR department. That this HR department only included one incredibly overworked woman who was willing to let many things slide in order to collect a paycheck was no matter. They still had to observe the basic requirements that came along with it, and that included having mandatory yearly training in things such as workplace harassment. The modern workplace truly was a marvel - as if anyone willing to commit these acts would be cowed by one seminar. 

But here they were on a Thursday afternoon, every supervisor gathered in the conference room to undergo ‘mandatory training’ in sensitive subject matters. The training wasn’t actually training at all but an instructional video of about thirty minutes. It was quite literally the least they could do- Elias wasn’t about to go wasting precious money on hiring more professionals to help them avoid inappropriate conduct. That’s what lawyers were for, after all.

Jon had stumbled in once the video had already begun, looking bedraggled and worse for wear. The only seat left was in the back, conveniently located right next to Elias. He gave his Archivist a short nod and glanced back at the screen with a bored detachment, watching from another pair of judging eyes as Jon stumbled and struggled his way around his colleagues, murmuring apologies.

He didn’t acknowledge Jon’s greeting, preferring instead to keep him at a distance. He didn’t want him to get too comfortable with him, not at this early stage. But he still noted the exhaustion in his features with some concern- he did need him semi-functioning, how else would they get any statements recorded?

Jon managed valiantly to stay awake for the first ten minutes before he started to nod off, his head jerking backwards in a sad attempt at consciousness. Elias rolled his eyes, clearing his throat several times in an effort to keep him awake. He didn’t much care for Jon’s dignity, but it was rather embarrassing for him to have an Archivist who couldn’t stay awake for a mere thirty minutes once the lights were down. 

But then it started to veer into dangerous territory. Jon was slumping down further and further in his seat, each jerk awake more distracting than the last. Elias would ask him to leave if he didn’t think he would collapse on his way out the door and cause even more of a commotion. No, it would be fine to let him sleep if his head wasn’t constantly listing to the left, further and further and- Christ.

Jon’s head found purchase on his shoulder and there he remained, finally content to doze in peace.

They were tucked far enough in the corner that nobody could really see unless they strained their eyes. Everyone else was either watching the video or falling asleep themselves. Elias considered his options- he could wake the man, knowing the force required to do so would only cause a scene, or he could let him sleep until the end credits rolled- credits he knew were incredibly loud, and thus would cover up any yelp the Archivist emitted upon waking. 

Both were terrible choices. If Elias had his way Jon would have collapsed back in the Archives and avoided this mess entirely. He would also have the added bonus of being able to scold him later- a win-win, certainly. But alas, it was not meant to be. He sacrificed his pride and let the man continue to sleep on his shoulder, tensing as much as he could to keep Jon from slipping further down into a more embarrassing position. The added irony of the subject on the screen- Unwanted Workplace Advances- was not lost on him.

At least the man was having unpleasant dreams. He contented himself with watching the Archivist flit across his nightmares, running from worms and spiders and whatever other horrors his mind conjured. It was much more entertaining than the video on the screen.

And then the credits rolled. A few seconds before they began, Elias placed a firm hand on Jon’s shoulder and shook him once, hard. Just in time, the outdated, cheesy music blasted from the speakers and nicely covered his Archivist's shriek of terror and subsequent heavy breathing as his eyes shot open, panicked. No one was the wiser to that little display. 

His hand turned light, friendly. Just a boss showing concern for an unwell employee. “Jon, are you alright?” he asked, schooling his face into a parental sort of worry. That always seemed to work well with Jon- he was much more apt to be agreeable when the authority figure in question made it personal. “Do you need to go home?”

His eyes could barely focus as everyone else in the room stood up, yawning and stretching and milling about. “I-yes, I think I just need a lie down.” Elias nodded in faux-concern, helping the man to his feet.

Jon didn’t say a word as he walked him past the front door and into the Archives. He knew he had work to do.

________

Jon was in the way.

This was not a sentence Martin Blackwood had ever thought before. Even when Jon was technically in the way, he wasn’t, not really. Wherever Jon was, was wherever Jon needed to be. Whether it was standing in front of Martin when he needed to get to the break room, or blocking the water cooler as he lectured Tim about ‘workplace standards,’ Martin wasn’t going to ask him to move. Fighting with the man was absolutely exhausting and a lesson in futility.

But Jon was literally in his way. As in if he didn’t move, Martin would not be able to do his job for the rest of the day. 

The man was curled on top of a box of files, the exact box of files that Martin needed to access. He wasn’t moving- Martin had thought at first that he was dead, but his slow, even breaths disproved that. Why would he choose this spot to take a nap? It couldn’t be comfortable- his back was hunched and his bad leg stuck out at an awkward angle. His arms were sprawled over the box as if guarding it. Sasha had told him a few stories from their research days, but he had never seen the man asleep over anything but his desk. Jon was looking far too vulnerable these days, and Martin didn’t know what to do with that.

“Jon?” he tried quietly. The man didn’t stir. Figures. He wanted to reach out and shake him awake, but his wounds were barely healed and kept opening up, probably from his nighttime escapades. He didn’t want to be the cause of more of Jon’s pain. So he stood there awkwardly, shifting from side to side as his boss continued his slumber.

“Something wrong?” Martin jumped at the sound of Tim’s voice- Jon did not. He was leaning in the doorway, looking almost as tired as Jon and definitely in need of a nap as well. He recovered a bit better, having taken every day allotted to him. But that didn’t mean he was back at peak performance. Tim followed his gaze to the floor and rolled his eyes upon seeing Jon asleep. ‘Really?” Tim was very irritated these days. Martin didn’t blame him.

“I didn’t know what to do!” he whispered back, though he probably didn’t need to keep his voice down. “I don’t want to hurt him, but I need that box-”

“Just move him,” Tim replied unkindly, making his way over. “He won’t wake up, he’s a very heavy sleeper, honest.” He reached out a hand to grab Jon’s shoulder but Martin stopped him.

“N-No!” he stuttered forcefully, well aware of Tim’s attitude towards Jon these days. “I’ll just, I can wait, I guess-”

“You said he was in your way.” With a wince Tim crouched down, placing an arm around Jon’s waist and hoisting him over his shoulder in one smooth, practiced move. “See?” he said, also whispering. “Not a peep.” It was true, Jon hadn’t stirred one bit. It was also very concerning. He watched as Tim slowly made his way across the room to the cot, placing Jon in bed with an infinite care he didn’t think the man capable of. Like hands at a piano remembering a well-practiced tune, Tim’s body played out a gentleness he no longer felt, not anymore. He even placed a blanket over Jon, pausing for a moment to look down at him. Martin couldn’t see the look on his face and couldn’t guess at what it was. 

“There.” He turned around and abruptly exited the room, not sparing another glance at either of them. When Martin looks back at this moment, he’ll wonder if that’s the last kindness Tim ever offered Jon, and how sad it was that he wasn’t even awake to see it.

________________

A year later and Martin finds himself standing over Jon, watching him sleep. He is curled around a tape recorder. The light is on, it’s recording. For what end, Martin does not know.

He slips an arm around Jon’s waist like he saw Tim once do. Jon shivers- Martin is very cold these days, so he doesn’t fault him. He deposits him in the cot he knows so well- he will be safe here. Warm. Basira is here, and Melanie- they’ll look out for him, in their own way. He pauses, looking down at the man in the bed. He is alive, but Martin couldn’t tell you if he is breathing.

He does not visit the Archives again.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162460

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

The Helping Hand

This is a Repost from my Ao3 I wanted to bring it to Tumblr. I hope you like it Its currently 5 chapters I will be uploading the rest throughout the rest of the week.

Word Count: 2400 approx

Summary: Y/N Krast Illegitimate Daughter of Tony Stark. Product of an unwanted teen pregnancy. What would Howard Stark be capable of doing to assure his sons future? What will happen when Tony meets our Beautiful, young, genius, rich philanthropist.

Tw: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug use, Drug addiction, Teen Pregnancy. (If there are any I missed please tell me.)

Ch.1

The Prodigal Child Returns Ch.2

Ch.3

While it is true that you had a very comfortable life it was definitely not easy or by any means a normal one. The first 11 years of your life were full of injustice, abuse, trauma, and all because your parents made it so. 

At one point you completely gave up… The things that happened to you, the things that they did to you were unforgivable. Howard tried to get you to talk about it, but you never let him know that part of you. You didn't tell him because you were scared he'd think you were broken, that you were not worth saving.  

You've never asked about your parents and quite frankly you've never wondered. They didn’t give a second thought when leaving you in a fucking hospital, why should you. Your scars are things you're not proud of; they are a reminder of how weak and vulnerable you used to be.

You were sleeping on the plane when suddenly you're there again. The Gordon house they had a son… he had issues and they knew it but did nothing about it. This was your repeating personal hell… when you least expected it you're being hit and yelled at. You feel like you can't run away fast enough. Your body is not letting you get away from him. 

When he finally reaches towards you, you jump awake from the nightmare. "Right on cue." you say to yourself. You wake up in a cold sweat. You look out your window to see the new york skyline. The pilot informs you that you'll be landing within the hour. The perks of having a jet to take you wherever you want no hassles. 

You haven't seen New York since Howard's funeral 3 years ago. Another thing you haven't seen since you left was your friends if you could still even call them that. Once you land you decide to go to your favorite coffee shop… if you missed one thing it was the coffee. 

As soon as you walk in the cashier notices you and she looks awestruck, dare you say angry. Jenna… 

"Are you going to say hi or are you just going to stare?" You say lifting your brow. She snaps out of her thoughts and smiles at you. "Y/N the regular? Or have you acquired new tastes?" You smirk at her and she makes her way around the counter basically throwing herself at you.

"Wow, easy there you're going to give me the wrong impression." She keeps hugging you nonetheless. "I missed you too!" you say as you return the hug. As soon as she pulls away she slapped you not holding back. "I spoke too soon didn't I?" You say to her. 

"You didn't speak at all you asshole you said you were going to call. That was my only condition." You give her an apologetic look, but at the end of the day she understands. She goes back to the counter, prepares your drink, and hands it to you. "So what's new around here?" You ask, she simply sighs and leads you to a more secluded table. 

"Marissa and Rob broke up, lets see Angel moved to Washington he actually made it into politics I still can't believe it, and I, well I own the coffee shop now." She looks at you and smiles. "What about you, where did you go?"You tell her what you did where you went, all about David and Viv. "So how long are you staying here?" She asks. "I'm here to stay." You say. 

You finish catching up with Jenna a couple of hours later. You walk out with your drink in hand and immediately bump into someone. Your drink spilled all over you. "Shit… are you okay?" You say as you look up. Your eyes meet hers and you're hypnotized completely forgetting how to speak. 

"Yeah, are you it seems like that spilled all over you." She points out rather matter of factly pushing her deep red hair out of her face. "Well it would seem so… you know it wouldn't have happened if someone hadn't bumped into me." A smirk forming on her face.

"Bold of you to assume I bumped into you." She tells you, raising her eyebrow. You smile, extend your hand towards her and introduce yourself. "Y/N Krast and you…" she takes your hand and finishes your sentence. "Natalie, nice to meet you Y/N."

You chuckle lightly. "You say that because coffee isn't currently dripping into your bra." She huffs out a small laugh. "How could I ever make it up to you. I mean I would say dinner but that seems too soon." She says smirking. 

You smile and say "I'll see you around Natalie." You hand her your card and walk away. Not looking back you make your way to your old house. "And it begins you say to yourself as you enter your home."

What exactly is beginning you are unsure of but if you know one thing it's that they're all "going to pay." You were a kid and you'll never forget what you lived through.

The first night anywhere is extremely uncomfortable… for you at least. The jet lag didn't help you toss and turn all night. When you least expect the sun is out and you are pulled from your thoughts as your alarm rings. Great now you have to go to work on no sleep. 

You make it to the office on time… you left it in good hands. "Y/N? Long time no see, where were you?" You turn to see Logan, you meet him in the system, you gave him a chance when no one else would. "How's my company? It better not be in shambles." You say playfully he fakes an offended gasp. 

"Y/N it's doing great, I'd say that if we work a little harder SI might have some actual competition." You laugh, but the expression on his face doesn't change. He doesn't laugh with you. "Wait are you serious Logan?" He answers almost immediately "Yeah it’s crazy right!"

You and Logan spent the day going over your company's finances. "We are doing better than ever, and it's all thanks to you." You state. Logan takes your hand and says "Thanks to us, you might have been gone but you definitely helped." You smile. 

You hesitate but eventually cave. "Logan I need your help with something?" He looks at you, his posture turning serious, "What do you need?" He said almost immediately "You can say no and I will understand, but I need to know everything about the Gordon's." you say nearly a whisper that only Logan could hear. 

"Y/N why?" He simply asks with a calm demeanor. When you try to explain nothing comes out you just shrug. "I'll do it, but just be careful alright." Suddenly anger fills within you and you venomously spat "I'm not that kid anymore Logan I'm not scared of them if anything they should be scared of me."

Logan is quiet for a moment "I see… Is this why you came back?" Unsure of how to answer you shrug, and he walks towards you kneeling in front of you. "I'll follow you anywhere you know… they hurt you, hell they even hurt me." He grabs your shoulders making you look at him. "You'll have that file on your desk tomorrow… they deserve what's coming their way Y/N."

He leaves your office leaving you unsure but content with the fact that he understands why. Again you are pulled from your thoughts as your office phone starts to ring. "Y/N Krast who am I speaking to." You say somewhat confused as the call wasn't announced or scheduled. "Hi Y/N it’s Pepper Potts from Stark Industries." 

You almost drop the phone when you hear the words come out of the speaker. Pepper continues "I must confess Y/N you're not an easy person to get a hold of. Did you enjoy your sabbatical?" You're still at a loss for words but compose yourself quickly. "I did very much, forgive me but what is this call about?"

"Right, I am inviting you formally on Me and Tony's behalf to our annual Company investor and corporation cocktail party." Suddenly realization hits you in the face he wants to scope out the competition. "That seems great, when will it take place?" Pepper seems taken aback by your response quickly composing herself. 

"All the information will be emailed to you and how many passes would you like?" You quickly respond "Two would be perfect!" you say. "I'll look forward to meeting you Y/N." Pepper states. "As will I, and thank you for the invitation." You say and end the call cordially. 

As soon as the call is over you receive the information the cocktail party will literally be tonight! You run into Logan’s office startling him. “What's up… you look pale what happened?” He asked as he started to worry. You catch your breath and say “Stark wants to meet us. We were just invited to their annual Cocktail Party!” You say all in one breath you quickly add “And it’s tonight.”

As soon as Logan Processes your words he starts to pace back and forth. “Tony Stark… The Tony Stark wants to meet us? Y/N do you have any idea what this means?” He turns to you and you can see the eagerness in his eyes. “Of course I do Logan, but we’ve got to get ready to. We need to buy presentable clothes and talk strategy.”

“God this is a dream come true!” You move in front of him to prevent him from pacing and catch his attention. “Logan it’s not the time to get star struck okay… he’s still our competition we were invited for a reason and we’re going to make the best of it.” He slowly nods getting more serious, but you couldn’t help it, you’ve looked up to him most of your life. Almost screaming you said, “Fucking Tony Stark wants to meet us!” Logan just laughs and you join him.

The day goes by in a blur, you and Logan had a busy day starting off with wardrobe. You're rocking a beautiful red fitted dress with a slit that goes up your thigh. Logan of course wanted to compliment you and chose a traditional black tux. "You look amazing." He says. You smirk "I look hot. You're not looking too shabby either." You tell him, making him smile and blush a little. 

Later in the night you finally make it to Stark Tower. Presenting your passes to security outside they immediately let you in. "This place is amazing." Logan comments you only nod your head in agreement. As you make, your way to the party Logan takes your hand. 

You look at him… you both needed the reassurance. You continued walking hand in hand. You are greeted by a crowd of people drinking, talking, and having fun. This calms you a little as you are just one in a multitude of people. You and Logan make your way to the bar. You take a seat and sigh. You lean on Logan's shoulder as he orders you drinks. 

When you get your drinks you realize something but don't get that chance to mention it as Pepper and Tony walk up to you causing everything else to melt away. "You must be the infamous Y/N Krast and your Logan Smith." Tony points at both of you. You smile and say "Exactly." You say then directing your attention to Pepper. "It's nice to meet you, Pepper, you look amazing."

You and Logan shake their hands. "Y/N I must say you look stunning as well… and I'm so sorry for the short notice I'm glad you could both make it." You smile as if to say it was not a big inconvenience. Tony clears his throat catching your attention. "Well Y/N you must know that we are in direct competition." You nod unsure of where the conversation is heading. He continues. "I want to work hand in hand with you and your company. What do you say?" 

You smiled and turned to Logan who knew exactly what Tony wanted to do. "So this has nothing to do with the fact that Karst Industries is projected to surpass SI within months." You can tell you caught him off guard as he desperately tries to say something. "Logan and I would love to work with you, Tony. It would help both of us in the end." He looked relieved and pleased with your answer. 

"This merits some drinks." He calls to the bartender "Natasha bring some drinks over here." You turn to Natasha who is now walking towards you. And finally, all the pieces fall together you can't help but chuckle. "The Call… that's how you got my number, touché Pepper I've got to hand it to you." Pepper can only smirk at your comment, relieved that you're not angry or offended by it.

You greet Natasha. "Well, it's nice to see you again Natalie." She smiles and hands you all your drinks. "This is Logan, my business partner I've known him since forever." You introduce him to Natasha. This piqued Tony's curiosity asking "When did you two meet?"

"We met when I was 5 or 4 not quite sure." Pepper hummed and added. "Your parents must have been friends." You and Logan shuffle unconformable but you decided to answer. "Um… no actually me and Logan met in the foster system. It's okay though it's a part of us we are not ashamed of it." You stated quite confidently that you even surprised yourself. 

Natasha senses you and Logan are uncomfortable and change the subject. "So what did you do whilst you were on sabbatical?" You thanked her with your eyes and answered her question. "I went to Europe Sokovia to be exact I wanted to help so I moved there and opened a small practice." Tony jumps in again quite tactlessly asking "How old are you Y/N you seem young not offense." He quickly adds towards the end. 

You chuckle lightly and answer "I'm turning 22 in a couple of months." you say. He looks at Pepper concern flashing in his eyes and quickly dissipates as he notices you looking at him.

[mrslilyrogers]

Betrayal Part 1

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: (AU) Set in New York. You and Bucky have been married for 5 years. He’s the love of your life and you are his. At least, you thought you were until he started slipping away from you, coming home late and smelling of another woman’s perfume? You are in denial. Are you just losing your mind or are you really losing him? 

A/N: Hi! I’m new here and still figuring out tumblr. I have no idea how all this goes! This is the first ever story I’m posting online. I just couldn’t get the idea out of my head and would like to share it with all of you! Quarantine’s finally given me time to get over posting online, lol. Please comment away whatever you think of the story! This is a very angsty fic! hope you enjoy :) 

Warnings: ANGST, CHEATING

She turned in bed flinging her arm out expecting Bucky to be beside her as her groggy mind pulled her back into sleep, only to have her hand bounce back on the empty mattress. Her arm fished farther out, trying to find him in the dark but still, it was empty. Confused, she slowly opened her eyes to blink the sleep away, he wasn’t home. She shot up as the realization hit her and glanced at the clock, its red glaring lights mocking her. 4:25 AM. 

Bucky didn’t come home. 

She swallowed as a lump formed in her throat. The first few nights he kept coming home late, she waited for him, asked how his day was, what took him so long at work and he’d usually dismiss her with a kiss and her favorite crooked smile as he cuddled up to her in bed making her forget all her worries. Even up until now, after five years of being married, he still had that effect on her. One glance her way with his smirk and she’d still feel her heart flip inside her chest. Whenever he hoisted Lizzie up in the air making her giggle, Y/N was sure her heart was shining in her eyes as she watched them. 

And now this. 

She knew the first time he told her not to wait up, something was off. He kept coming home later than usual and when he did come home, he smelled of alcohol and as much as Y/N would like to deny it, perfume. A perfume that distinctly wasn’t hers. Instead of confronting him about it, she denied it to herself, closing herself off to the truth that was becoming more and more obvious as the days went on. Instead, she took extra efforts to please him, waking up early to cook his favorite breakfast, preparing his favorite dishes for dinner even though he barely came home for it, trying to pass by his office at lunch so they could spend time together. All the while hoping he would stay and come back to her, come back to being her Bucky. 

She wiped the tears that started to drip down her eyes. “Where did it all go wrong? What have I done to deserve this?” A sob came out as soon as she allowed herself to accept the truth. She brought her knees up to her chest and buried her face in between, hugging herself, trying to make herself as small as possible as sobs wracked her body. She cried for Bucky, cried for their family, cried for herself because somewhere in the process, she lost her pride and accepted whatever affection he could afford to give her, like a dog trying to please its owner, and never demanding what she deserved. She might have stayed like that for an hour or more but she knew that if she continued on, Lizzie would wake up and find her mother crying her eyes out and that’s the last thing she wanted. Lizzie, oh god, Lizzie what was she going to do with her sweet daughter? She could accept Bucky cheating on her, neglecting her even but for their daughter, it was unacceptable, she was only four, she did not deserve this. Yet, she was the collateral damage to the shambles of their marriage.  The thought made her head hurt, she scrambled out of bed, needing to do something or she’d wallow in self pity and she needed to be strong for her daughter, always for her daughter, even if it meant living in a delusion to keep her family together. She heard footsteps at the stairs of their apartment and quickly grabbed her phone by the bedside table and ran to the bathroom. She leaned against the door, sighing, listening to him shuffling in the bedroom. 

“Y/N, you in there? Sorry, fell asleep on Steve’s couch.” Bucky called from the door, no trace of guilt in his voice. Y/N just closed her eyes and sighed. 

“About to take a bath!” She replied and checked her phone. No messages from him whatsoever that he’d be at Steve’s apartment. She quickly tried to hide her hurt to take on the day. For her sanity, for Lizzie, the mantra kept repeating itself in her head. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Mommy, why can’t I have cereal?” Lizzie whined from her seat at the counter as Y/N poured her orange juice. 

“Yeah, why can’t she have cereal?” Bucky strode in playfully, the scent of his after shave filling Y/N’s senses, making tears prick at her eyes. She quickly turned around and faced the coffee pot, pouring more into her mug. She couldn’t stand to be near him after accepting the truth. She couldn’t face their situation, not yet. 

“Daddy!” Lizzie chirped, already lifting her arms for a hug from her self-proclaimed superhero dad. 

“How’s my little girl this morning?” He said lifting her up and kissing her cheek which only made her giggle. 

“Eat your vegetables, squirt.” Bucky reminded her a little more seriously but with a charming smile nonetheless, and Lizzie, who worships the ground he walks on, eagerly nibbled on the beans from her plate trying to please him. Just like her mother, Y/N thought sarcastically. 

She was still turned away from the counter when she felt Bucky sidling up behind her, his arms snaking around her waist, pulling her in to kiss her hair. 

“Morning, babe,” 

“Morning Buck,” She cleared her throat and moved away from him, standing in front of her daughter who was eating her breakfast far more enthusiastically than when her dad wasn’t around. God, this was a mess, what was she going to do? Lizzie clearly adored her father and if she were being honest with herself, she didn’t know how to live without Bucky. 

Bucky saw the glassy look in Y/N’s eyes as she stared at their daughter, her hands fiddling in front of her and he instantly knew it was on him. He brought that look on her face, guilt and remorse punched him in the gut. 

“Hey,” he said soothingly putting his hand on her back as he was about to apologize about last night. 

“Lizzie, drink your juice, daddy will bring you to school,” Y/N flinched away from him, starting to flee the room. 

“I gotta go,” She told him, grabbing her bag from the counter, and kissing their daughter on the cheek before heading out. She didn’t glance at him or give him his kiss goodbye like she usually did and instead, avoided looking at him. He froze, feeling the fear creep up on him. She didn’t know, did she? 

“Bye Mommy!” Lizzie waved from her chair as Y/N got to the door. She turned around with a genuine smile on her face. God, she was beautiful when she smiled like that, and he missed it, he missed her and he hadn’t even realized it. 

“Bye baby,” she said as she blew her a kiss. She cleared her throat and her expression blanked when she turned to him. 

“Buck, don’t forget to pick her up today,”

“Today?” She usually picked Lizzie up from school, being the owner of a quaint little cafe, Winter Bakery, giving her the flexibility in schedule to do so. He had work to do and he was gonna meet up with Celeste around that time. The immediate thought of the woman he was seeing brought shame and guilt to his conscience, making him lash out at her. 

“I can’t, you know I have work,” he said a little too accusingly. 

Y/N just closed her eyes and exhaled harshly, trying to reign in her control. 

“Daddy, don’t you want to pick me up?” Lizzie asked sadly and Bucky felt all his anger vanish as he saw his little girl’s fallen face.

“Of course not, sweetie, I just--” 

“Bucky, we’ve been through this, I’m trying to land this catering gig for Stark, remember?” Y/N’s defeated voice rose above his and he immediately felt sorry, god, he was the worst husband. 

Sure, it was just a little get together for the birthday of Tony Stark’s daughter but it was a big deal to Y/N. She had met Pepper in Lizzie’s school as they waited for their pre-schoolers to be dismissed and instantly became friends. At first, Y/N was starstruck with Pepper especially when she discovered that she was a hands-on mom, while running Stark Industries at the same time but she was such a down-to-earth woman matched with a witty sense of humor that it was hard to lose any topic of conversation with her. Of course, it helped that Lizzie and Morgan had become the best of friends even on just the first day of school. Next thing they knew, they were spending play dates at the bakery when the girls insisted on hanging out. That’s when Pepper discovered Y/N’s cupcakes and raved to Tony that, “they were absolutely the best she’s ever had”. Of course with Tony being Tony, wanting only the best for his daughter, set up a taste test meeting for his daughter’s birthday, insisting on trying every single flavor of cake and cupcake she could make, and not just a take-out of the best sellers, like Pepper had suggested. They weren’t just going to settle for the best sellers like some sheep following the herd. “His words, not mine” Pepper had said and having the Tony Stark to be Y/N’s first customer for her first ever catering gig would mean a lot for her business. Only recently has she decided to expand it and she felt like she’s talked Bucky’s ears off with her plans and here he was, seemingly having forgotten the day she’s most talked about. She wasn’t even angry with him, she was just disappointed and not even a little bit surprised. 

“Oh shit, babe, I’m sorry I forgot,” Bucky immediately went to her and enveloped her in a hug and she hated herself for loving the feel of his arms around her.

“Promise, I’ll make it up to you,” he whispered but she didn’t believe him, she was over his empty promises.

“Just pick Lizzie up,” She said before she left the door with not a glance back.

Part 2

[asweetprologue]

oh the sweet dregs of love

Octoberfest 12: tea (flufftober #29)

Geralt had never been much of a tea drinker. As far as he was concerned, tea usually came in a medicinal setting and was packed with pungent herbs that made his nose itch. It reminded him too much of his potions, so in general he stuck to watered down ale and water and was happy enough with that. It wasn’t something he felt he was missing out on, until Jaskier came along.

Jaskier adored tea, both for the taste and the ceremony of it. He drank it every morning with unfailing consistency, unless Geralt forced them to move on before they could boil some water. That was, Geralt quickly learned, a mistake, as Jaskier would be sullen and sleepy eyed all through the morning and into the afternoon. Something about the routine of making the tea and the little burst of caffeine left him ready to tackle the day, and without it he was a shambling mess. Geralt supposed it might be similar to his own morning stretches and exercises, though it didn’t feel quite the same. 

Even so, Geralt adjusted his schedule early on to accommodate the habit, learning to start the fire and get the water boiling before Jaskier awoke. Jaskier would roll out of bed and crawl over to his pack, clumsy and pleasantly disheveled from sleep, to pull out the little waterproof pouch that he kept the tea in. Some northern blend, Geralt wasn’t sure. It was sweet smelling, with the slightest hint of bergamot. A comforting smell that clung to Jaskier for a few hours after he’d finished brewing it and sometimes made its way into pockets of Geralt’s clothes. The bard would pour the boiling water into two chipped ceramic mugs that he carried for this purpose alone, and a few moments later he would drop in the tea. One cup he would take for himself, and the other was left for Geralt.

Because, much to Geralt’s bewilderment, Jaskier insisted on making tea for both of them, even if Geralt had never once shown any interest. The one time Geralt had said, “What is this for, Jaskier?” the bard had just shrugged and said, “Rude not to make the other person a cup, I expect.” And that had been that.

For the first few weeks of this Geralt had ignored the proffered mug, going through his morning routine uninterrupted. But every time Jaskier picked up the cold cup to toss the tea aside he looked a little more glum about it, and it wore down Geralt’s reserve. One morning he finally cracked, tentatively picking up the mug from its spot near his bedroll while Jaskier was looking away, busy tending to their packs. It had cooled down a bit while Geralt went about his own business, but it was still warm when he took the first sip. 

It was… good, he had to admit. Surprising. He’d tried northern teas before, but this one didn’t seem to carry as much bite as the ones he’d had in the past. Geralt’s palate was sensitive, both from his heightened sense of smell and due to personal tastes. The herbals that he’d had in the past had always been too complex and earthy, and the dark teas had left a bitter taste on the back of his tongue for hours. This, though, was lighter and sweeter, with just that bare hint of citrus that blossomed across his tongue after he swallowed. It was sweet, too, flavored with a bit of the honey Jaskier kept in a jar wrapped up in cheesecloth. It was good. 

So Geralt started drinking the tea Jaskier made him, and Jaskier was clearly delighted but not about to say so, and it became a bit of a routine. Geralt liked tea now. He was someone who drank tea. It wasn’t a big deal; not even something he really made a mental note of. It only started to register as odd when he started trying to drink it in other settings. 

First, a tavern in Cunny of the Goose outside of Novigrad, the morning after an intense night of drinking. They’d shuffled miserably up to the bar, both of them hungover as shit, and Jaskier had said, “And a couple of teas, if you don’t mind?” The innkeep had nodded and handed over the cups along with the plates of boiled eggs and day old bread. Geralt had taken a swig and nearly spit out the offending concoction, wincing at the acrid taste. It was strong, the bitter taste making him want to gag - not ideal in his current state. Geralt pushed the cup as far away from him as possible and picked at his food, ignoring the raised eyebrow from Jaskier. 

Then, in a healer’s tent after a hunt gone wrong. He’d tried unsuccessfully for hours to meditate, trying to drop into a healing trance that would help him get a handle on both his physical and emotional turmoil. Jaskier lay on the cot next to him, breathing raggedly as he recovered from a laceration in his side that he’d gotten from an archespore. A young woman with a kind face who smelled only marginally of fear caught his attention and offered him a steaming mug. Geralt accepted gratefully, eager for any distraction or comfort. The liquid scalded his tongue when he took his first sip, overly sweet. Geralt forced himself to drink half and couldn’t stomach the rest. The mug sat abandoned beside him until Jaskier woke. 

And again, after he’d parted ways with Jaskier for the winter, stopping to see Triss on his way back up north. She offered him a cup in the evening as they sat before her roaring fireplace to catch up, and he’d agreed. He missed Jaskier’s morning tea - Geralt had been left with a small pouch of his own as a gift, but he couldn’t get it right. It was always too strong or not sweet enough or he messed up the timing and the water was too cold. Triss’ tea was close, but there was some other herb mixed in that made the whole cup taste a little bit like Swallow. Geralt set it down still mostly full and focused on the conversation. 

It took months, well after their reunion in the spring and weeks of traveling south, for Jaskier to mention it. 

“Aren’t you going to finish?” he asked, nodding towards Geralt’s untouched cup. They were at another inn, the cool, damp air of Temeria in spring wafting through the open window near their table. Jaskier was pleasantly rumpled looking despite his best preening, having slept hard the night before after performing. They were in town for a festival that Jaskier had been invited to play at, staying for a few days. Things would pick up again in the evening, but right now the bottom floor of the inn was still quiet with the haze of sleep. Jaskier peered at him suspiciously before being seized by a huge yawn, jaw cracking. Geralt couldn’t stop a smile from stealing across his lips. His fingers nudged the cup of tea in Jaskier’s direction. 

“Don’t care for it,” Geralt said. “You can have it if you like.”

Jaskier picked the cup up and sniffed it once before taking a sip. He gave Geralt a quizzical look. “It tastes fine. I thought you liked the Redanian Blossom? It’s the same blend we always have.”

The tea in Jaskier’s hands wasn’t the same though. It was a little too dark, and they’d used syrup instead of honey for sweetener. “I don’t like it when anyone else makes it.” In his head it seemed like an innocent statement, but Jaskier’s eyes flickered up to meet his with a startled expression, the cup still held halfway up to his mouth. “Uh.”

Jaskier stared at him in silence long enough to make Geralt profoundly uncomfortable, and then he broke out into a wide grin. “Oh, you need the Jaskier touch, hmm? I do think I add something special to the mix. A certain je ne sais quoi? My passion for art extends to the art of tea, you know. I make it with love.” 

Geralt flushed, just a bit, but the look Jaskier was giving him was purely cheeky. Rolling his eyes, Geralt said, “It’s just tea. Don’t get any ideas.”

“Try and stop me,” Jaskier said, and Geralt didn’t think he could if he tried.