#[ how can such a gloomy dude be the light of my life ]

[despairforme]

[lover-of-mine]

Me? Wanting to talk about the locker room scene in comparison to the cemetery scene to make a point no one asked about? Raise your hand if you saw this is coming 🙋‍♀️

Anyway, this is madness written by a gifmaker/video editor who hates coloring the cemetery scene with a burning passion and who spent the better part of the past 2 days trying to make a coloring work for the locker room scene, who also did some asking around with other editors who also seem to be having issues with the scene, and who spends way too much time thinking about Buck and death (someone drown that man, please).

I'm gonna start this off by saying that I don't really believe the cemetery scene will be directly addressed on the show no matter how much I wish it would. But something about the cemetery scene besides the actual content of the scene that keeps me up at night and had me writing multiple fics dealing with it, is the fact that the sky is only blue behind Eddie.

Why is that relevant in any way, shape, or form? The colors when the focus is on Buck or both of them have this almost yellowish tone that the focus on Eddie doesn't have. The sky and colors strongly imply that they added a filter to it in post-production to ensure the colors looked like that, along with the fact that it is a scene that's really weird to color something that happens when they go too hard on the filters *cough* crossover *cough* pilot *cough*. What does that have to do with the locker room? The locker room also has this almost yellowish tone that makes it hell to color. But based on my 2 days of testing different colorings and techniques, it seems to be a hell of a lot worse when the shot has that wall over there where the sun is hitting as a background.

That suggests that they wanted the scenes to have a specific lighting that they achieved later. Considering the way that the tendency of the cemetery is that the colors get muted or weirdly blended together and that the locker room goes YELLOW, I am assuming that they messed with the colors on the cemetery to make the colors look faded, giving it that gloomy feeling, which in turn made the sky almost white, and that they needed that sunlight reflecting on the wall to look that bright, which made the scene look a lot more yellow than it should. Seriously, trying to work this out I legit make it look like Buck is a Simpsons character.

Okay, but Anna, why did you make this particular connection? Well, the word is muted when Buck is talking about starting to date Natalia and then the sun gets brighter when he talks about them breaking up? COME ON. He's calling the relationship boring and the word literally gets brighter as he says it, madness.

Buck talking about dating Natalia -> Buck talking about breaking up with Natalia (please don't judge the gifs I don't want the stress of coloring them combined right now lol)

But that's the same reaction. Dude is smiling going in, he's smiling going out.

And considering Buck's relationship with his own death and the way I strongly believe that what drew him to Natalia was the fact that she didn't think his death was a tragedy and he wasn't ready to deal with the reality of had happened to him yet, to get him to the point where death is boring is progress. Makes me fear for my Buck breakdown wishes, but it is progress for that particular aspect of Buck, considering he has a very intricate relationship with death down to the fact he was born as a hail mary to prevent it. We have multiple near-death experiences, we have him saving the lives of people loves multiple times, the first time we see him he's saving a kid who drowned, his first big conflict is the fact that he's not handling not being able to save someone's life all that well, I can keep going, but you see my point, right?

The arc with Natalia, even though we didn't see the originally planned conclusion since the actress couldn't come back, had this point of Buck looking at what happened to him through the eyes of someone who didn't know him before and was actually excited about that happening, so he could distance himself from what happened and look at it from a "safe" distance. That distance also allowed him to ignore the very important "I need to do this for myself" thing from the coma dream because Buck is terrified of being alone, and that definitely includes the fear of finding out who he is by himself. Buck is bad at being alone, from meaningless sex, to hanging on to Abby too long, to hanging on to Taylor too long, to jumping in with Natalia, the first pretty girl who looked his way, it all makes this part of him very clear (parenthesis because I just had a thought, yes, Buck latches on to Taylor out of fear of being alone triggered by Eddie almost dying, but he thought he could have died himself considering the crane and everything about it and also the way he could very much have been shot at the same time as Eddie, he latched on to Natalia because he did die, he also almost died on his first date with Abby and Abby actually reached out to him when he was feeling all sorts of bad over someone dying, and he is held at gunpoint and watched a death that deeply affected him before he started dating Ali, so we have death as a connection here too, if that makes sense, I might have to come back to this thought later).

But the thing is, when you look at 6a for Buck considering the fact that Buck is passively suicidal, in a very I'm not trying to get killed but I don't think I don't care if I do die way, and how he probably thought he was going to die in a blaze of glory saving someone, and how he actually died in a pretty run-of-the-mill call, by something no one has any control over it, Buck's relationship with what he thought death was and would be for him changed. For one, Buck was not ready for how much it affected everyone around him, he never considered what the grief of losing him would do to the people he loves, but also, Buck's main excuse for his near-death experiences/impulsive behavior that puts him in mortal danger was "but I didn't actually die" like with the blood clots or "I didn't get the worst of it" like with the shooting, I think even the tsunami a little bit with how he felt about losing Chris. But he did actually die, and considering the fact that he went up that ladder when Chimney was ready to go up and Eddie also got hit by the lightning, he also got the worst of it. So he lost his own coping mechanism.

So he arrived at a point where death is boring and he is smiling like an idiot at Eddie welcoming him "back to the world of the living" and that could have fun implications going forward. Because, one, he still hasn't dealt with a big emotion in a healthy way, and two, Bobby is in mortal danger. Considering his reaction to Bobby being dead in his coma world and the fact that he has no coping mechanism left when it comes to death anymore along with his own relationship with water and danger we could have some fun reactions to these types of triggers for him there.

And thinking about the way Oliver keeps talking about Buck learning more about himself and also about Buck leaning on Eddie, someone who had his own journey dealing with multiple layers of his relationship with death, they have a fun space to play with there, with Buck's relationship with death, Eddie's relationship with Buck's death, and everything else that could happen with Eddie fully dealing with Shannon's death, and Buck dealing with anything really, Daniel, his own death, his fear of being alone, all as someone who actually wants to live, who's not just moving because he's alive and has no other alternative.

That's it for today, as always, if you reached this I love you 💜

[excalibur-gone-missing]

Paring: LSM x fem!reader 

Requested: No

Genre:  soulmates!au, angst

Warning(s):  sad

Summary: Seokmin loves love. But love doesn't love him back.

Word count:  788

Other works 

disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration. 

a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask. So please don’t be a silent reader.

a/n2: I don't know if I will make this into a series, but do tell me if you want me to do so!

[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]

Seokmin loves love. He looks at young lovers in the park sitting on a bench, leaning on each other or holding hands, and he hopes they stay like that forever. Hell, if he could, his official profession would be matchmaking. But after a bit of a trial run during his uni days, the man understood that he is horrendous at it. He has more chances of pairing Mingyu’s socks than pairing two humans. What can he say—he just likes to bring people together. The only problem is that he’s far more impatient than an alpha particle roaming around in a chamber.

Now, it must not come as a shock to you that this man has indeed fallen in love and, like most of us in this universe, has had his heart broken too. I mean, it was his fault for falling in love with a woman who had another man’s name written in the script of her fate. But hey, love is love. You never understand when it will attack, and, being the defenseless fool you are, you just fall for it.

Seokmin understands it was never meant to be, but that doesn’t mean he loved her any less. Unlike most, he was devoted to Somin. He loved her like a poet loves his poem, like the paper loves its pen, like the sunflower loves the sun. He remembers how his world would light up the minute she came into his peripheral vision. He loved her with every breath he took and every drop of water he drank.

But like every other forbidden relationship, this one didn’t last. Somin found her fated mate, her soulmate. And just like water melting from a glacier, she seeped away from his life with a sad look of apology toward Seokmin and an enchanting smile for her one and only.

Was Seokmin sad? Obviously, he was! Who wouldn’t be? That night, he drank like there was no tomorrow, and Chan still brings it up sometimes: “Hyung looked like he wanted to crush that new dude of his ex, but also looked scared when he remembered his face.” I mean, obviously, that man was built like a truck. As much as Seokmin claims he likes to do push-ups and lift, he could never be the hunk of a man Seungcheol is. Never!

But even after all that, he could never get angry at anyone. It was his and solely his fault for falling in love with a woman who was not fated to be his. The blame falls on him, no one else. They had promised to be each other’s forever, but somewhere deep down, he knew it wouldn’t last. He knew that all those talks were just talks. So when the inevitable happened, he wasn’t angry at her—just happy. No matter how brutally she broke his heart, she deserved to be loved the right way, and so did her soulmate. He would have broken off the relationship anyway the minute he knew about Seungcheol—no questions asked.

Now, this brings us to this very gloomy, rainy day at the bus stop. Seokmin hates the rain; it reminds him of tears, and he hates to see the sky cry. But everyone’s gotta cry once in a while, so he’ll let it go this time.

This is when he feels it—the sting on his back where his mark is. The beautiful fish painted on his skin feels alive. Not even a minute after the sting, he feels it—the pull, the pull to look at the passengers getting off the bus.

That’s when he sees her: the literal definition of beauty and grace, the beautiful butterfly in this gloomy world. His one and only soulmate. You.

That too was the time when you looked at him, feeling the pull too. It seems as though the world has stopped for Seokmin. Time has allowed him this moment to stare at you and take in your grace and beauty. And suddenly, he realizes you’re heading straight for him. Straightening his back, he looks at you expectantly, hoping to hear your name pour out of those beautiful, glossy, plump lips of yours. And then he sees them move. But he doesn’t understand what you’re saying, because your beauty has rendered him speechless.

Then he hears the words—those ominous words that will haunt him for the rest of his life, maybe even eternity: “I don’t believe in soulmates, so let’s never fucking meet each other again, ever!”

And before the boy can even process the words you’ve just thrown at him, you’re walking away. And just like that, the Seoul rush engulfs you like a sea monster, not letting Seokmin reach you to at least ask why.

a/n: thank you so much for reading, please don’t forget to leave a review

[trickster-archangel]

During my h50 fast-forward rewatch I couldn't help but stopping on this very scene, because I'm sure the subtext is powerful here. It's all about subtext. It actually gives you the chills to read, now, comments written on fanfics dealing with this specific episode, because so many of us were damn sure Steve was foreshadowing his death because of radiation poisoning (which, honestly? Would've made sense, so damn sense, considering the framing of this scene. And it wouldn't have left such a HUGE plotline open. Not that I want Steve dead at the end of s10, but you know....consistency...).

Anyway I tried to read this scene in a different light, knowing that Steve already knew he was thinking about taking a leave, going away from Hawai’i, finding himself, and he didn’t know how to tell Danny. Danny who already KNEW something was wrong, something was afoot, and Steve was definitely fucked up.

Don't focus on Steve, here, nor on his words — because now it's clear, so damn clear and painfully obvious he's not talking about sunsets: you get sunsets everywhere (even in Montana, while your father-figure is dying in your arms...and fuck you all if now sunsets will always be a cliche metaphor for death), so it's not really like you'll miss these specific Hawaiian sunsets. The only sun, the only sunshine he's ever had in his life is Danny. His Danno. So the only thing he'll miss, truly miss, while he searches for answers around the globe, will be his Danno. And that’s why he's so ready to agree when Danny tells him to visit New Jersey. He's basically telling Danny that even if he's the constant in his life, he's never taken him for granted, and that he's the thing he'll miss the most.

No. I'm not focusing on the obvious, here.

I'm seeing only this: Danny's face in the third gif. That's not a relaxed, tired, maybe annoyed-at-the-impromptu-feelings-dumping face you'd expect. He's just told Steve he's there for him, whatever he needs to say or talk about. Dammit, he's asked Steve to confess what's tormenting him!

No. Look at the strained lines around his eyes. Look at his furrowed brow. Look at his grimace, barely restrained.

Don't forget Danny's a detective. A hell of a good detective. By those seemingly innocent words alone, he's already understood Steve is going away. Maybe he only feels it in his guts — but he knows he's going to lose Steve. And that’s exactly why, in answer to Steve's heartfelt, gloomy words, all Danny can do is draw from his most reliable coping mechanism: joke. He jokes about squirrels and dinner. Because he doesn't known, literally has no clues, how to cope with the idea that his main dude is leaving him.

Danny knew Rachel was going to divorce him the day they married. He knows.

[milaisreading]

Dude I have to go somewhere right now or else I would talk about Yukisagi right here right now for houuurrrss but you should give some of your thoughts on them I'm DYING to know 🎤🎤🎤

🌱🩷:

BOTH ARE ROTTING MY BRAIN ALONG WITH KARASAGI!

So!! I think they are perfect for each other bcs of how competitive they both can be, WE ALL SAW THEM DURING MANSHINE ESPECIALLY! But, they are also very civil and warm people off of the field. I think they balance each other out well. Personally, Isagi offers Yukimiya a more quiet and peacful everyday life, while Yukimiya adds in some excitement and surprises into Isagi's life. They both make great football partners as well. Isagi with his adaptability and spatial awareness, is a good practice partner when Yukimiya needs to practice his dribbling or gyro shot. I also think that Yukimiya could give Isagi good advice on the flow state and help him with dribbling.

One of my headcanons on them is that Isagi is very soft around Yukimiya, and would reassure him how great of a player he is, despite you know... his eye condition, and that he will do great things in life. Think of Isagi as a light in Yukimiya's gloomy surrounding. When it comes to Yukimiya, I believe he balances out Isagi's ego well. He is one of the few players to go head to head against Isagi and still stay close to him off the field. I believe Yukimiya would offer a lot of excitement for Isagi in his otherwise mundane life.

[quixoticrobotic]

Question entirely on a whim - classpect the comicrew, go!

CLAPS MY HANDS TOGETHER LETS FUCKIN GOOO

i also have jaeris, joanna, erin, and allen bc sburb aus delight me i also have chumhandles, i can share those if you like

also i assume you want reasoning

Linkara: Knight of Mind. Hes such a knight of my god like insisting your fine when you arent? absolute knight behavior. i chose mind because one of my favorite aspects of linkara is hes like. the kind of character who needs to have a plan for everything which is usually a bad guy trait and is a trait you see in a lot of neurodivergent ppl so its nice to see in The Hero

but yeah a knight of mind would use logic and thinking as a weapon which linkara really enjoys doing

90s Dude: Mage of Hope

hope players represent! (im seer of hope!) but yeah hope is a broad term bc like lots of things can inspire it, hope plays typically have something they're really passionate about, something that sparks that ability to believe and like i dont have to say what 90's dude's is. he wears his passions on his sleeves, he gave us "more radical, less sadicle", the stuff that hes passionate about is his strength. mages are kinda like seers except less direct? instead of sharing knowledge to help the team they have this very personal, intuitive understanding of their aspect and how to wield it. fits the sleepwalker arc p damn well

Harvey: Prince of Time

every time i have to make a character i love a prince like i know you'd hate these pants im sorry

but ok i knew harvey would be a time player bc time is associated with music and death, two things that are very relevant to harvey as a character. i think i settled on this bc i saw a quote on pintrest "not living, just killin time" and harvey was the character i was fixated on that week. princes destroy their aspect/are destroyed by their aspect/destroy with their aspect. so if you wanna put a less gloomy spin on this you can go with "making up for lost time"

also i rarely get to have a session that has both a time and space player and thus isn't automatically doomed, which brings me to

Linksano: Seer of Space

multiverse and green. also seer fit since his official job on the team is science consultant like, he uses his knowledge of the multiverse to help his friends

Jaeris: Thief of Void

THIS IS ANOTHER MEAN ONE like thief bc of him stealing magic weapons BUT ALSO thief's tend to have a "my way is definitely the correct way of accomplishing this goal" and it bites them in the ass. i saw a theory i take whith a grain of salt but its basically void players tend to have their perspective skewed by some personal bias

and meanest of all

jaeris gets nothing. thieves take their aspect for themself. void is nothing. jaeris gained nothing. im so sorry space cowboy u make it too easy

Joanna: Witch of Doom

AW YEAH I GET TO TOUCH ON MY HEADCANONS ABOUT WHAT JOANNA IS LIKE

so doom is destiny, fate that cannot be changed. but this often represented by computer code/coding (which fits so neatly into the at4w 'verse tbh)

witches manipulate their aspect

now of course we know joanna sees the tapestry of fate and pulls out a seam ripper

but i also headcanon joanna is a cool gamer hacker babe who likes computers/ai/robots/ect. she and jaeris are a steampunk/cyberpunk power couple. also i like to think think by giving her one of the most OP classpects i'm making up for her lack of screen time

Erin: Rouge of Light

rouges allocate their aspect to help the team, light is luck, fortune, and fate that can be changed. fits Miss "Technically I was always your friend. Just in very weird and roundabout ways." who was introduced stealing the magic coin

Allen: Page of Life

im not gonna lie allen is mostly here so we have an even number of players. im sorry allen fans

i dont actually have a gt for mark bc linkara needs a strife specibus

and we cant have marksprite because PLEASE DO NOT PROTOTYPE THE EXTREMELY POWERFUL MAGIC WEAPON

[staticscreenwriting]

Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes

One - When Harry met Sally 

Synopsis: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. Growing  up, Bucky had not a doubt in his mind that his undeniable charm and his gorgeous smile would one day help him find the one. Now he realizes there’s so much more to romancing women, especially those from the 21st century. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is not a love story. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for EP1 of TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ Now in the movies they make it look so perfect And in the background they're always playing the right song And in the ending there's always a resolution But real life is more than just two hours long “

Some Avett Brothers song sounds from the little radio that sits on the corner of the counter. Thick drops of rain pearl against the window, racing each other down the glass before meeting up eventually and becoming one with each other. 

(Y/N) refills the last of the mustard bottles, setting it on the counter next to the others. It’s a quiet night at the diner. The kitchen’s been closed for an hour now and usually, that’s when people stop coming in. While the Little Blue Diner is known for their hot dogs and burgers, neither their coffee nor their cold sandwiches are gonna win any prizes any time soon. 

And yet …

Sure enough, as her eyes lift towards the figure slouched down in the corner booth, his gloved hand is already outstretched, signaling his desire for yet another refill.

A mixture between a chuckle and a scoff tumbles from her lips at the thought of him wanting more of the slightly burned liquid. If there’s one thing (Y/N) can admit to being bad at, it’s brewing coffee. Where there should be a rich brown color, hers usually ends up with an inky black hue and instead of leaving a hint of warm caramelization on your tongue hers just tastes bitter. It doesn’t seem to face the man in the corner though. Not even a little bit. To say this worries her is a bit of an understatement. No one in their right mind would take 7 refills of her witch's brew.

“ You okay, my dude ? “ (Y/N) inquires as she steps up to his table, coffee pot in hand. 

The man doesn’t look up at her. He doesn’t have to. She’s acutely aware of the character currently occupying the corner booth. It’s a face she knows like the back of her hand. One that’s been staring at her from books and documentaries, one she’s been greeted by every time her dad took her with him to the Smithsonian. Though they do not dare look up at her, she’s so awfully familiar with the bright blue shade of his eyes, he might as well be a long-time friend. 

“ I’m fine. “ 

Of all the lies in the world, “I’m fine” must be the most unbelievable one and yet the one told most often. No one who’s actually fine ever says those words. Those two words are reserved for the lonely and broken only. It’s like getting “I’m not fine at all” tattooed across your goddamn forehead. 

“ Sure you are, that’s why you’re having the 7th refill of my god awful coffee. “ 

“ ‘s not that bad. “ 

“ Sure, if you’re into licking charcoal it’s probably not that bad. “

It’s just a split of a second, a fraction of a moment, but (Y/N) is sure she can see the corner of his lips lifting slightly. It falls back into the stoic scowl immediately but it was there. For a teeny tiny moment, there was the shadow of a smirk on his face and that’s a success in her book. 

“ Either way, here’s how we’re gonna do this. I’ll give you one last refill, after that, I’m cutting you off, my friend. I know I’m a waitress and it’s my job to bring you what you want but I do not fancy watching you suffer a caffeine-induced heart attack in this very diner. I am not equipped to handle a situation like that and quite honestly they don’t pay me enough to deal with that either. “ 

His eyes are still trained on the scratched-up white linoleum table but ever so faintly he nods his head in silent agreement. 

As promised, she pours him one last cup of coffee. A brew so dark it could rival the bubbling goo of a tar pit. 

“ Enjoy your last cup of the night, Mr. Barnes. “ 

It’s then, as she’s just about to walk back behind the counter, as those words leave her lips, that he looks up for the first time since he’s walked in. 

His eyes are the exact shade of blue she’s so familiar with but there’s something else about them. An infinite sadness haunts every spec of blue. Where she thought there would be a sparkle of adventure, a hint of mischief, there is just loneliness. This is not the man she’s read about in museums, heard about in stories. This man right here is completely and utterly lost.

“ I - I uh — “ 

He clears his throat, once, twice, then nervously brushes his hand across his face. 

“ I can go if you don’t want me here. “ 

“ Huh? “ 

“ I asked if you want me to leave. “ 

As those words escape him, his eyes seem to grow even more devastated. They glimmer with memories of a time long gone and a future uncertain. Shine with hurt and fear. 

“ Why would I ask you to leave? “ 

Bucky shrugs his shoulders in a way to make it look nonchalantly. It’s hard to seem casual though when you seem to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders. 

“ People who recognize me usually aren’t so keen on having me around. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m uh — I’m not people’s favorite person. “ 

It’s a sad thought, (Y/N) realizes, to be constantly bound to a past that is yours but never really belongs to you. To be forever linked with the horrible actions of a version of yourself you had no control over. And no matter how hard you try to set it all right and to repent for your wrongdoings, to some people it will never be enough.

“ No, you don’t have to leave, “ (Y/N) reassures before sliding into the booth opposite him. “ I don’t know you because of — because of what happened. I know you first and foremost as Sergeant Barnes, former officer of the 107th Infantry Regiment, part of the Howling Commandos, and best friend and brother to Steve Rogers. Everything else that’s — none of my business really. “ 

Bucky lifts his eyes off of the table again and while the sadness is still there, something else lingers for a moment. Curiosity, intrigue maybe, or just relief. 

“ Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into someone reciting my life to me. Huh. “ 

“ My dad used to be a curator at the Smithsonian. He was in charge of the Captain America exhibition. I’ve seen your face a million times, visiting him at work. I gotta say though, you look way more approachable and friendly on the picture they put up. “ 

This time, it’s more than a fleeting moment, this time she’s sure about it, this time he lets out an actual chuckle. 

“ I was a lot younger then, okay? Cut an old man some slack. “ 

“ Oh, you pulling the old man card now? “ 

“ Is it working? “ he asks, eyebrows raised in question. 

“ Not really. “ 

“ Ah, what a shame.” 

Silence settles upon them again like a thick duvet filled with feathers, it’s not uncomfortable but it’s smothering anyway.

“ Do you wanna talk about it? Your sour mood, I mean.” 

Bucky shrugs again “I have a therapist.” 

“ Does she make you draw your feelings? “ 

He smiles again at that question. His smile, (Y/N) thinks, ain’t the worst thing she’s ever seen. She wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

“ No. Why? “ 

“ Mine did. She stopped pretty quickly though, I guess my drawings were too detailed and gory for her.” 

“ Huh. “ 

“ Mmmh.” 

After another sip of coffee, one he takes without grimacing, without showing any sign of disgust for the burnt brew, Bucky speaks up again.

“ Mine thinks I’m lying to her. “ 

“ Are you ?” 

“ Well yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that.” 

“ Maybe telling her the truth would help you. “ (Y/N) suggests only to be met with a determined head shake No from Bucky. 

The notification sound of a phone pulls them from their conversation and at the sight of the name on the display, Bucky lets an “oh shit” slip from his lips.

“ Don’t you sound excited about getting texts from your friends, “ (Y/N) jokes

“ I had a date last night. That’s her. “ 

“ Since she’s texting you I assume it went well. “ 

Bucky grimaces at her words, slightly shaking his head in disagreement.

“ No? “ 

“ I mean, I had fun and it went well — at first. She’s really sweet. But then we started talking and I may have run. “ 

“ Ran where? “ 

“ Away. “ 

“ Away as in you left. “ 

“ Mm-mmh” 

“ Just like that? “ 

“ Yup. “ 

“ Why? “ 

He throws up his arms in frustration and shakes his head again as if to gather all his thoughts and rattle them neatly back into place. 

“ I don’t know, okay? I haven’t been on a date since the 1940s. Everything I know about women and dating and romance seems antiquated. I’m overwhelmed and confused and I just don’t wanna do anything wrong.” 

“ Dude, you ran from your date without any explanation. How much worse could you have handled it? “ 

“ Yeah well, hindsight is 20/20. “ 

While his words try to sound light and nonchalant, his shoulders tense and his whole demeanor seems to shift back into the gloomy state he’s been in since he entered the diner. Like a big cloud that’s following him around, casting shadows at all times and hardly allowing any light to shine through.

“ Look, I don’t think any of us know what the heck we’re doing half the time. Like, trust me I know what I’m talking about. Online dating means I have to choose between men who think posing with a dead fish will make me want to sleep with them, men who think knowing obscure Star Wars facts can replace having an actual personality, and men who send me pictures of their … privates without me ever giving any indication of wanting to see those. So yeah — dating can really s - be frustrating. “ 

Bucky regards her for a second, the right corner of his lips pulled into a lazy lopsided smirk.

“ Did you just censor yourself because you don’t wanna swear around me ?” 

“ Maybe, but that’s beside the point. The point is, we’re all just human and in the end, we’re all just looking for someone to like us the way we are, all quirks and issues and baggage included. I know women might seem intimidating but really all we want is to be loved and appreciated. And not the over-the-top build-you-a-house, the notebook kind of love. More like the Harry and Sally kind.“ 

(Y/N) can almost see the gears working inside Bucky’s brain, the desperate attempt to make any sense of all the words and phrases she’s just thrown at him. A jumbled mess of pop culture references swirls through his head like a swarm of bees, chaotic and messy. 

“ I have no idea what you just said. “ 

“ When Harry met Sally? “

Bucky just shrugs and shakes his head.

“ You’ve never seen it? “ 

“ I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being blipped away into oblivion for the last 5 years. So I haven’t really had the time to get into movies yet. “ 

This time it’s the gears in her own head that start turning. 

“ What are you doing Friday night ? “ she asks, biting her lip in nervous anticipation.

“ I — I don’t know. “ 

That’s a bit of a lie, really. He does know. It’s the same thing he does pretty much every other day. He gets some takeout, brings it home, sits down in front of the tv, tries to get lost in whatever show they put on, fails at doing so, reads a few pages of a book, lays down to sleep, and then wakes up a little while later to yet another nightmare, tangled up in sweaty sheets, heart racing. 

(Y/N) doesn’t need to know any of that though. He doesn’t tell his therapist so why would he tell a random stranger.

“ Well, don’t make any plans. We’re gonna kill 2 birds with 1 stone. “ 

“ We are? “ 

“ Yeah. Trust me on this one. “ 

“ I don’t even know you. “ 

“ Sure you do. “ (Y/N) says and taps the tag pinned to her baby blue polo shirt with the diner’s logo on the back.  “ I’m the one who serves you just enough coffee to keep you happy but not have you die a painful and honestly mildly embarrassing death. “ 

Every part of him screams at him to say no. To stay away from her the way he does from most other people, even Sam. To get up and get out and not cause any more damage than he already has in other people’s life. But then he remembers his therapist's words, he remembers Leah’s face full of confusion and disappointment, he remembers the empty feeling in his chest. That feeling of pure and utter loneliness. 

“ Alright, Friday works for me, (Y/N). “ 

“ Perfect, Bucky. “ 

“ Bring a jacket. “ 

The address and “Bring a jacket” that’s all she’s texted him. No explanation, no plan, nothing. 

Bucks leans against the streetlamp, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Anxiety is washing through his system like tidal waves on a stormy ocean. This whole being spontaneous thing was much easier back in the 40s. When his shoulders weren’t so heavy with guilt. When he didn’t have to constantly face the consequences of his actions. Consequences of a past he can never quite outrun no matter how far he goes and how hard he tries. 

Maybe this is good, he has to remind himself. Getting out of his comfort zone, if that even exists for him. Opening himself up to new opportunities. Maybe even make a friend. (Y/N) seem nice enough, if a bit peculiar. 

His shrink would be proud of him. Getting out there, talking to people, being approachable. This must for sure earn him some kind of gold star equivalent in her notebook. 

“ Hey there, Mr. Grumpyface. “ 

(Y/N)'s voice cuts through the chilly New York night like headlights through thick fog. She strolls towards him, lips pulled into a big bright smile. Leading up to tonight he’s spent quite a lot of time wondering if this is some kind of project for her, if maybe she sees him as a sort of charity case. Something to earn her karma points. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the genuine joy radiating from her face lets those worries melt away instantly. 

Maybe, Bucky thinks, she really just thinks he’ll make a good friend. And maybe he can. 

“ Hi, (Y/N). “

“ You brought a jacket” she points out, pinching the black leather between her fingers. Her nails are painted in various shades of red, each finger a different hue. 

“ I did. You told me to. “

“ And you listened! “ 

“ Why wouldn’t I ? “ Bucky inquires, a look of confusion settling on his face.

“ You wouldn’t believe how many men think wearing a jacket when it’s cold out somehow clashes with their need to demonstrate their masculinity. “ 

“ Wow. “ he exclaims.

“ Yeah. So anyway, you ready to go up? “ 

She nods her head towards the house across the street. It’s a slim multiple-story brick building with rusty fire escapes. It looks like a residential lot, not much else that could give away (Y/N)’s plan for the rest of the night.

“ Up? “ 

“ Mm-mh. “ (Y/N) nods and motions towards the top of the building. “ to the roof. “ 

“ The roof? You’re not planning to push me off or anything, right? I don’t usually spend time with strangers on rooftops. “ he tells her, a smirk lifting the sides of his lips.

She grants him a smile in return. One of those that you try so hard to suppress but despite your best efforts they find their way onto your face anyway. Because some smiles demand to be smiled. And her smile is pretty cute, he thinks, it deserves to be seen. 

“ Foiled again, damn Bucky. I’m a waitress with a useless degree in literature and creative writing but assassinating you was exactly what I had planned for tonight. Couldn’t let me have that one, huh? “ 

“ Sorry to spoil all the fun. “ 

She softly bumps her shoulder against his right side as she passes him and crosses the street. Her red skirt flutters around her knees like a ribbon of fire, bright and warm and —

“ You coming, grumpy ?” 

“ Yeah uh — yeah sure. “ 

The walk upstairs is filled with chatter from her and nodding from Bucky. It’s been like this most of the time since — well since he’s really back. Other people usually do the talking and Bucky listens. It works most of the time. Works with Yori. Sometimes though, sometimes it doesn’t. He can see people getting frustrated with him. Hell his own therapist does and she knows the baggage he has to carry around. 

This is different though, (Y/N) doesn’t seem to mind much. She’s a waterfall of words and topics and doesn’t seem to get bored or annoyed with him. It’s nice. 

A heavy iron door swings open as they reach the top of the building and as soon as they step out onto the rooftop balcony they get engulfed in an ocean of lights. They’re strung from one end of the roof to the other and back again. Next to the door, a little makeshift bar is set up, and a guy in a Star Wars shirt hands out beers to people. 

Multicolored deck chairs and beanbags are haphazardly placed across the entire roof, all pointing towards the corner furthest away from the door where a big white sheet hangs spanned between two poles. 

“ Sooo you gonna tell me what we’re doing here? “ Bucky asks again as (Y/N) steers him towards a cluster of chairs in the back. 

“ Some peeps I went to university with, set up movie screenings here every once in a while. I could pull some strings and got to choose the movie. “ 

“ We’re gonna watch a movie? “ 

“ Not just any movie, “ she exclaims and drops down onto one of the plastic deck chairs that looks like it used to be bright pink once but is now but a bleached blush colour from being exposed to the sun too much. “ We’re watching when Harry met Sally. “ 

Bucky slumps down on the chair next to her, a blue one with white daisy patterns. 

“ Me not knowing this movie really does bother you, huh? “ 

“ It’s a classic, might as well start with this one. And anyway, maybe this can help you get back into the dating game. Ya know, help you understand modern romance. “

“ You think so? “ 

She shrugs and starts fumbling around in her bag, “ I dunno. It might. And if it doesn’t at least you’ll spend your time watching a good movie and get to experience the blessing of my company. Ah-ha! There you go “ 

Her hand reaches out holding a bag of M&Ms.

“ I brought snacks. “ 

More and more people start occupying the chairs and bean bags and a few minutes later a guy steps up in front of the sheet. He’s wearing a shirt with a black and white bird pattern, huge glasses with a brown frame, and jeans that don’t cover his ankles. He’s tall and lanky and his hair is so messy, Bucky wonders if it’s intentional or if he just hasn’t brushed it in a while. 

“ Hi guys, I’m Andrew. For those of you who don’t know me, I live in apartment 2B and I just wanna say thank you for showing up and welcome you to our movie night under the stars. A few days ago we received a special request from one of our good friends and because she let me stay on her couch for several months back during our college days and I still owe her for that I couldn’t reject her request. So thanks to Miss (Y/N) over there in the pink chair you now get to spend the next 90 minutes watching Meg Ryan fall in love with Mike Wazowski. Enjoy. “ 

As he steps away from the sheet, the lights are turned off and the MGM logo pops up on the screen. 

“ Trust me, Bucky. This one’s so good.” (Y/N) assures before throwing some M&Ms into her mouth, now entirely focused on the movie.

It takes a while for Bucky to relax. Being around so many people and not having any fear of what’s lurking around the corner is still very new. Letting go is never as easy as it sounds. Eventually though, his nerves settle down a little and as the movie progresses, he finds himself relaxing more and more. Something he hasn’t done in a long time. Not since Wakanda.

Exactly 46 minutes into the movie, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander to her left where Bucky, until now, sat slumped into his seat. Still perpetually grumpy but more chilled out and relaxed than she’s seen him before. Until now. A moaning Meg Ryan visible making him uncomfortable.

“ You okay, grumpy? “ 

He doesn’t grant her a real answer, just scoffs and rolls his eyes. There’s a smile though, she’s sure. Somewhere hidden there is another smile. 

“ So, what did we learn today? “ 

Bucky looks at (Y/N) who has her arms wrapped tightly around her middle shielding herself from the chilly night air. The movie night has ended a while ago and the two of them are slowly strolling along the New York City streets on the way back to (Y/N)’s apartment. 

“ To take your own advice and dress warmer for a movie night? “ 

(Y/N) chuckles. “ No, grumpy. I meant the movie. “ 

He shrugs at her question. Quite honestly he hasn’t learned anything new. Nothing about the movie seemed in any way revolutionary to him nor does he see any benefit for himself and his dating life going forward. But the way she looks at him right now, expecting something grand not from him really but some beautiful consequences to her ideas, that makes him reconsider. Sure he could tell her that it was just a silly little movie about people falling in love but that would no doubt hurt her, even a tiny little bit. And if there’s anything Bucky has enough of, it’s hurting others. 

“ I guess that men and women really can not be friends. “ 

“ Noooo! No. Is that really what you took from this movie? “ 

“ That’s literally what happened. “ 

“ Okay first of all it works, look at us! We’re friends! Second of all, that’s not what the movie is really about. It’s about love and vulnerability. It’s about overcoming all the tiny things that can work against you and your relationship. Like distance and timing and egotism. It’s about hiding who you are because really opening up to someone, being your authentic true self with all your faults and imperfections, that makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable is fucking scary. But love is worth it anyway. That’s what the movie is about. “

As Bucky noticed before, some smiles demand to be smiled. They need to be smiled because they’re important and they mean something. The one gracing his face now, that’s one of those. One of those you remember because you feel them all the way in your heart.

“ You think we’re friends? “ 

“ Oh, are we — are we not? “ 

“ No. I — no, we are! I’d like to be friends. “ 

(Y/N) abruptly stops in her tracks, turns towards him, and holds out her hand. “ To friendship.” 

“ We’re shaking hands on it? What is this, a business deal? “ 

“ You know what, yeah now that you mention it that’s pretty lame. “ (Y/N) agrees, balling her hand into a fist “ how about a fist bump, bro? “ 

Bucky reluctantly knocks his right hand against hers before continuing his walk down the street. “You call me bro again I’m canceling the friendship. “ 

“ Alright. Noted. “ 

“ So have you talked to the girl again? “ 

“ Hmm? “ 

“ The one you went on a date with? “ 

“ Oh, Leah. Uh — no.” 

“ Why not? “ 

Bucky throws her a look. One that says “are you kidding me?”. One that says “ you know why.” 

“ Cause I ran out. That’s embarrassing. She’s gonna think I’m insane. She’s never gonna wanna see me again. “ 

“ I sincerely doubt that. You just gotta say sorry. I know in Love Story — that’s a novel and also a movie from the 70s — they say that ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry but that’s a load of bull. Just say sorry and ask her for a do-over. “ 

“ And then what? We play a rematch of battleships and talk about my trauma? “ 

“ Well, what did you do on dates in the 40s? “ 

That time, his youth, that seems like a different life altogether now. So much happened between then and now and the man he is now, has no relation to the boy he was then. Sometimes looking back hurts, makes it painfully obvious what he’s lost. But sometimes, like tonight, he can feel a hint of fondness coursing through him at the thought of times long gone.

“ Dancing, mostly.” 

“ Like, ballroom dancing? “ 

“ Swing. “ 

“ You swing dance? “ 

“ I did. “ 

(Y/N) regards him through squinted eyes “ really? “ 

“ You don’t believe me? “

“ I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a dancer. “ 

Not a second later, Bucky’s gloved hand grabs onto her’s and twirls her towards him then away from him and back in. 

“ You twirled me! “ 

“ Mm-mh.”

“ I’ve never been twirled. That’s so fun. “ 

It’s like autopilot taking over as Bucky holds onto her, twirling her again then pulling her in and swaying them in a circle. It’s not swing dancing, not even close but there’s no music either, and anyway, his dancing days are over. But sometimes you gotta make a point and if that means slow dancing in the middle of an empty street then that’s that. 

The night wraps them in a blanket of comfort and intimacy as the stars and the New York skyline try to outshine each other. It’s a moment so peaceful, Bucky can’t remember the last time his heart felt so light, his mind felt so at ease, his entire being got to let go and just be alive and in the moment.

And then the shine of headlights rips them from their moment and makes them jump back onto the sidewalk. 

“ Get off the road you fucking morons! “ 

“ Gotta love the big city folk. “ 

“ Yup. “ 

“ Hey, Bucky.” 

“ What? “ 

“ You really can dance.” 

“ Told you. “ 

“ Can I tell you a secret? “ 

“ Sure. “ 

“ I can’t dance for shit. “ 

“ That so? “

“ Yup. Which means you gotta teach me. “ 

“ Absolutely not.” 

“ Oh, 100%! “ 

“ We’ll see about that.” 

There are nights you try to forget. Nights that you wish to never ever remember. Ones that break you. That beat you down and leave you bruised and battered.

Then there are nights like this one that you want to hold onto for just a little bit longer. Those that fill you with joy and an immeasurable thirst for life. The ones that make you feel grateful to be alive right here and now. 

The inevitable end of the night creeps closer as they arrive at (Y/N)’s front door. Neither of them really want to say goodnight but both know there’s no use in delaying it.

“ I hope you didn’t hate the movie too much, “ (Y/N) speaks up, leaning against the front door of her apartment complex.

“ No. It was fun! Although I still don’t know who Mike Wazulsky is. “ 

“ Mike Wazowski, he’s — you know what? That’s a conversation for another time. “ 

“ Alright, if you say so. “ 

“ Thanks for walking me home. “ 

“ Oh, yeah no need to thank me. It’s the right thing to do. “ 

For a moment they just stand and smile, trying to cherish the last few moments of this night. 

“ We should do this more often. “ Bucky suggests, surprising even himself.

“ For sure. I still have so many movies to show you. “ 

“ Can’t wait. “ 

A slight sense of awkwardness falls over them as neither of them knows what to do. Go for a hug? Shakes hands? Wave goodbye? 

“ I uh — I should go. “ 

“ Yeah, of course. Have a good night, Bucky.” 

“ You too, (Y/N).” 

“ Oh and Bucky? “ 

“ Yes? “ 

“ Give Leah a call. “ 

Bucky nods his head before turning around and walking back into the night.

As he takes the way back to his own home, there are only two things on Bucky’s mind: the vulnerability of falling in love and the question of who the hell Mike Wazowski was. 

[mercurytrinemoon]

On houses, house rulerships & how ya'll should stop associating them with signs + a rant on the meaning of the 8th house

This is one of those moments where I'm going to say (read: rant, so heads up, I may sound pretentious) that modern times keep distorting astrology. I’m talking about associating houses with signs/planets (aka the “12 letter alphabet”, briefly mentioned by William Lilly in the 17th century but ultimately it became a product of modern astrologers: first attempted by Alan Leo and decades later popularized and named by Zip Dobyns). Can we just... use a neuralyzer and make people forget that method? It's ingrained in people's minds because, seemingly, it's easier to learn that way - search astro basics in google and you'll see things like "9th house=Sagittarius=Jupiter". This compressed version of astrology seems more accessible and easily digestible for a casual reader and not many newbies try to even question that approach. But there's a reason reputable astrologers these days are trying to erase it from everyone's minds. Signs are traits, planets are vessels, houses are areas of life. Houses are a completely different thing + every person has their own chart with their own house rulers. You can't say Mars is the “natural” ruler of the 1st... well unless, of course, you're an Aries rising, then yeah, your 1st is ruled by Mars, 2nd by Venus and so on.

Sure, some houses share accidental similarities with planets that have been assigned to them by modern *cough*lazy*cought* approach. Example, the 3rd rules communication... oh and so does Mercury. But then again, Mercury has nothing to do with health, injuries, work - all things 6th house. 7th is relationships and 2nd is money & values... and it so happens that Venus shows our attitude towards these things. I would sometimes find myself loosely refer houses to planets, like “oh the 3rd mercurial house” just because SOME of them do fit with the characteristics... and because it's a language that is well-understood (I won't do that anymore). BUT even when I started learning astrology, I had a red light go on in my head when people would straight up go "Moon in Virgo or Moon in the 6th". It never made sense to me. These are completely different things. And I've seen some awesome astrologers who would state things like "oh Aquarius Sun is basically the same as Sun in the 11th", like nah, dude. Because why? Aquarius is the friendly type and the 11th rules friends? Because Aquarius is the big innovator and 11th stands for hopes and dreams? But Aquarius is also a rebel who's stiff in their beliefs. Aquarius is a weirdo, is the 11th house the house of weirdos? No. Aquarius likes to be independent and usually has issues with feeling of not belonging anywhere, while 11th rules communities. THAT'S CONTRADICTORY. Because they're not the same.

Want more examples? Having Venus in Aries is completely different than Venus in the 1st. What do people usually say about Venus in the 1st? That it makes the native charming, lovely, well-put together, with great manners, maybe beautiful, graceful, maybe a bit shallow. When in Aries? None of these characteristics fit, on top of that, it's in its detriment. Our poor gal Venus is uncomfortable and confused in Aries. She's like, "conquer? Swords? Selfishness? Obnoxiousness? Sparring? You're telling me to fight people? What am I doing here???" 

I think it most shows in the 8th house, which... *deep breath* has gone through so much (ironically since it rules transformation), like, there's a lot to unpack here. "tHe sCorPioNic HoUse": tell me in what way does Scorpio have to do with inheritance, death, taxes, other people's stuff? These are the og topics associated with the 8th house. And by the way, it doesn't have to be a material inheritance, because I saw people being confused by that. You can have your 10th house ruler in the 8th so maybe you'll inherit that job as a chairman in your father's corporation, along with its renowned name. Or your 6th house ruler is in the 8th so you'll inherit a genetic health condition from your parent. 

Now, modern astrology, as per usual, tried to turn it into something positive (and psychological because apparently according to modern notion, astrology can’t predict anything so it’s only psychological *eye roll*) and put its rose-colored glasses on it so they'll say things like: transformation or taboo topics - like okay, makes sense, it's an intense house after all. Like a near-death experience or a metaphorical death will be transformative and maybe hard to talk about. And Scorpios do have the tendency to go through drastic situations in their lives and to dig deep & not being afraid to uncover secrets and all that's unknown and scary for others. There you have it, some convergence. But still, Scorpio and the 8th house are two different things.

Then there's the topic of the 8th house and sex. Actually, side note, a quick history bit, the 2nd century astrologer, Vettius Valens saw sex in the 7th house - because that was the thing that happened after marriage - it represented two people coming together. In medieval times it then moved to 5th house of kids - because children-making requires intercourse, duh. Listen, I get that the 8th, as the follow-up to the 7th, is seen as joined resources; and joined everything, including bodies... or bodily fluids... (tmi?) after you get married or whatever. I don't think that makes sense in the modern times. I mean, go ahead if you want to associate the 8th with sex but after some time of studying astrology, I see it almost exclusively in the 5th as it's the house of pleasures. Simply. Besides, technically you can get yourself off and don’t need anyone else to assist you. My issue, again, comes from the root of the association with the 8th. Modern astrologers started linking 8th with Pluto and Scorpio in medical astrology rules reproductive system and so Scorpio is seen as the fReAky sEx dEMon blAh blaH (honestly, try asking Scorpios about their intimate life and they'll run for the hills abashed). So it turned out that 8th house is the "plutonian one" (I had a moment today wondering if it's plutonian or plutonic and idk anymore) so therefore it must rule sex. Well that logic doesn't make sense because everyone knows that the first and most important planet in the matters of sex is Mars but none of ya'll go and say "1st house is the house of sex because it's ruled by Aries". So no, houses are not the same as signs/planets.

12th house has a similar issue. This one has literally nothing to do with Pisces. Like, I feel bad for Pisces honestly, you guys don’t deserve being dumped into the 12th. It's a rather gloomy house and the most positive thing you could come up with it is being the house of imagination and intuition - because it rules the subconscious and partially your mind. And Pisces is usually characterized by those two. Or you could say that they're both kinda foggy in nature - 12th is the unattainable. But that is literally the closest you can get with them correlating. Other than that, 12th is hidden enemies, succlusion, illness (but mental or chronic, it's a bit different than 6th). There's nothing piscean about it really.

But I get it, open most of the astrology books and you'll see chapters called that way. Why? Because it's easier to publish something that's shorter aka simpler for the reader (actually that was one of Dobyns' reasoning behind spreading that approach). That’s why I said it’s lazy. And someone would argue that it’s easier to learn this way - because the information is compressed into 12 sections (signs) instead of 24 (signs+houses) or even more if you include delineations of every house ruled by each sign. Like, “well if I memorize the meaning of Cancer and Moon then automatically I’ll also memorize the 4th house”. But in fact, it’s so limiting in the long run and then forces you to unlearn what you have learnt, which is actually harder than taking the time and grasping the proper meaning right away. And again, with time it warps the meaning of everything.

Saying house=sign completely discredits the purpose of even having houses. And then on top of that it leads to people not understanding their own charts because they don't know the core meanings of the houses and instead look at them through the lens of signs. "I have planets in Gemini but I'm not that talkative and extroverted". Well okay, where are those planets? Are they in the 7th? Then maybe they're not talking about you but about people you come in contact with? Are they in the 4th? Well maybe it's your fam that has those qualities? The 11th? Are your friends like that? Houses are areas of your life, you can't say "Moon in the 3rd or Moon in Gemini" - Moon is "how", house is "where" - these are not the same things, even if they have a few traits in common. 

Ok, rant over, bye.

[spectracully]

busy boy.

pairing : fratboy!jaemin x sororitygirl!reader warnings : drinking, mentions of drugs, a bit suggestive (but pls note that this isn’t smut), cursing, mentions of divorce genre : fluff, angst, college!au word count : 2.5k

summary : inspired by chloe x halle - busy boy. basically playing around with the local campus playboy, na jaemin for months is not the best thing, not the worst thing either.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ You face yourself in the bathroom mirror, hands gripping the white sink. You saw him, right there. Dancing in the middle of the frat house’s living room with a girl in his arms. Na Jaemin, the boy you’ve been talking with for 3 months now, who recently just texted you “are you up?” on 9.15, and when you replied to him that you’re actually at his frat house, attending the party that Jaehyun hosts, he just texted you back one hour later by saying he’s with his family.

You’re malfunctioning right now, still dazed, don’t know whether it's because of the alcohol, the weed Lucas gave you, or it’s just you- believing his cheap lies. Cause when you think about it, who the fuck leaves the campus, go home and spend time with family in finals month? Yeah, you’re the one who’s dumb here, actually believing his lies. But who blames you for believing in the first place, anyway? You and your sorority sisters have arrived here since 8.30 anyway, an hour and half is long enough to get you lightheaded from the shots you take.

You glanced at your watch, it’s only 11.28 pm. About an hour since you read his text, and practically 34 minutes after you literally saw him. Facepalming yourself, you close the toilet seat and sit above it. It’s not even right in the middle of the night, but it has been a wild ride for you. It’s kinda frustrating when you are the one who actually started this game, you knew Jaemin is hell of a playboy on campus, yet you decided to get some taste of it just because he’s being a real gentleman with sweet words to you. Yeri was actually furious when she saw Jaemin dropped you off at the sorority house a few weeks ago, she warned you that you should dump him before you’re too attached, but you won’t listen. There it is, the fruit of not listening to Yeri’s 40 minutes lecture of how you should avoid men like Jaemin, Lucas, Yuta, Ten, Johnny and Jaehyun in your love life, big disappointment.

Finally catching your breath, you decided that it is time you get back outside, and actually do something about it, rather than being all somber and gloomy. Jaehyun threw a goddamn frat party in the middle of finals month to relax the fellow students’ mind, not for you to dwell on your sadness, in the bathroom. It’s embarrassing. And a disgrace for your sorority.

You head out, spotting Lucas who’s leaning by the counter with Hendery and Jungwoo. They’re probably hitting more blunt and having some existential crisis over a potato chip wrapping. You continue to scan across the house, only to catch a sight of Joy busy making out with Sungjae on the couch. Or Yeri, who’s currently twerking to Doja Cat’s song, totally shitfaced. You sighed, your friends are either high, shitfaced, or sucking a boy’s face out. You really wanna continue your search for your other sisters, but then suddenly a light brown haired boy appears in front of you.

“Hey, y/n, you alright? You look like you’ve been through 4 divorces.” he asks as he stares at you, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I just went through a fucking divorce. With your homeboy.” you answer him absentmindedly, pointing to the black haired boy who is wearing a black-white patterned wool sweater and a red shirt underneath, along with his slate-grey suit pants and a silver necklace. The boy in the topic is currently talking with the girl you saw earlier, being all smiley and shit.

Mark just laughs lightly as he sips his beer, “Oh him? Yeah he’s quite a busy boy. Probably went through countless divorces with half of the campus.” you chuckle at him, he knows what you’re talking about. All these girls never even had a proper official relationship with Jaemin, including you, but always ended up getting a nasty ass divorce without any reason. You know that, but you did not expect that you’d hang on up until now.

“You wanna do something about it?” Mark asks, nudging your elbow. He’s in a helpful mood now, probably because he is still not completely shitfaced or high. You glance at him, giving him a questioned look.

“Well.. I mean I would do it, but what? Kissing you in front of him so that he’ll get jealous? No, Mark. You know that his head is made out of a fucking rock, right?” You answer him, seizing his beer and take a big ass gulp.

“Hey, that’s my beer- What? Kiss you? Gross, dude. If you are looking for that guy, might as well run to Lucas or Jungwoo.” he lifts his eyebrows, slightly engrossed. You laugh at him, he’s a funny guy when he reacts to your silly jokes.

“Do I look like I wanna give you a kiss, Mark? No offense, but I don’t like crackly lipped boys.” you tease him, now he’s pouting and starts touching his lips, “Is it too crackly though? You have a lipbalm or something?” he asks

You continue to laugh while fishing the watermelon lipbalm out from your black leather jacket and pass it to him. He muttered a small thanks. You set the beer aside to the table then face him once more.

“Anyways, what should I do?” you eye him, who is now done applying the lipbalm.

“Drop your drink to the girl or something? Make sure he notices you dude.” he suggests, shrugging his shoulder.

“You’re dumb, Mark. It’ll cause a fucking catfight in the middle of party.” you deadpanned.

“Oh yeah, you have a point.” he swept his hair to the side, glancing at the whole party situation. That’s when you get the idea. Scratch kissing other boys in front of him, it’s probably the right time to call him the fuck out, you already have alcohol running in your system anyways, might as well go all out tonight, since everybody else also seems like already intoxicated by the liquors.

You lightly brush your hair, stretching your neck and praying to god that he’ll forgive you for what you are about to do. “Toodles, Mark. I’ll think a way when I get drunk, soon enough.” you wave him a goodbye, heading to the dining table to get a bottle of vodka, it’s half empty though, considering you’re being pessimistic tonight.

You chug the bottle with no mercy, wishing it’ll bring you straight to intoxication. You start to feel it kicking in, when you finish the last drop of the vodka. Banging the bottle to the nearby table, you make your way to Jaemin, who is currently sitting on the staircase by himself, checking his phone.

“Ooh, busy boy, aren’t you?” you ask him, not giving anymore fucks. He looks up to you, who is currently squinting at him, face reddening from the alcohol heat. He stares at you, biting his lip.

“Y/n. You’re drunk.” he says lightly as he stands up, tucking strands of your hair to the back of your ear. You squirm from his action. As much as you want to punch him in the face for playing with your emotions, you really miss his touch.

“I am not! Jaemiiiiin, why did you lie to meeeee?” you whine loudly to him on purpose, placing his hand on your face, pouting. Your plan worked, a few people turned their heads to you and Jaemin. He just sighs and snorts, smelling the strong liquor scent that slipped out of your lips. You can feel Yeri is probably trying to kill you with her glare, you know how much she hates Jaemin.

“Listen, baby, what are you trying to pull?” Jaemin whispers close to your ear. You’re not that sure whether it’s because of the loud music blasting in the whole house, or it’s just Jaemin’s voice. Whatever it is, your ears are tingling, sending funny sensations down to your spine.

Jaemin is pissed, you know it damn well from his tone, stern and strong. Oh yes, you love it so much, pissing him off, probably you’ll start humiliating him more and more in his own frat home, because that’s what he deserves for playing with you, and some other random girls.

“Don’t baby me, Jaemin! You said you were with your family, and then I saw you with some random girl!” you shout. At this point, you don’t really care about what others think of you, because they can clearly see you’re being drunk and probably will shrug it off. If that’s what it takes to call Jaemin out in a huge crowd, then you’ll take it. You have nothing to lose, anyway, they’ll agree with you, they all know Jaemin is a big flirt.

And there it is, the anger and humiliation fills Jaemin up. He pulls your wrists, practically dragging you upstairs. You liked it, don’t know why, it’s just fun, making him mad when it’s actually you, who should’ve been mad in the first place. He rushes you to get into his shared bedroom with Jeno and Renjun. Amused, you quickly sit on his bed, acting like you’re dumb.

He shuts the door behind him, crossing his arms. “What’s this all about, baby?”

You snort, “I think you know, Jaemin. You’ve been messing around me for 2 months- or what, I actually lost count because you’re such a busy boy.”

He widen his eyes, “I don’t-”

“Oh shut up, are you surprised that I actually last longer than all your pretty girls?” you stand up, you can’t contain the anger anymore.

“Listen, baby, I-”

“I said, don’t baby me when you do that to probably other 7 girls!” you shout, glaring at him, who is currently freezing on his space.

He sighs and sweeps his hair in frustration, licking his lips. “Will you listen to me first, at least?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms while glancing at his study desk. Nicely decorated, and you can see his family photograph neatly placed in a small frame. You noticed that he’s quite a reader too, judging from his book collection compared to Jeno and Renjun.

“First, I gotta admit, you last longer than other girls, yes. And second, it’s because I want to keep you-” he starts, taking a seat next to you,

You scoffed, “Keep me? You think I’m some kind of puppy that follows you around, Jaemin? You’re being such a dick right now! Do you think that I’m just some kind of wh-”

“Can you not interrupt me, baby? I’m talking.” he growls, placing his hand to your thigh. You can feel your cheeks heat up from his actions. Jaemin, being Jaemin, can sense that you’re actually flustered, he lightly squeeze your thigh, just to see your cheeks redden even more. God, he’s such a flirt.

“But first, I got to be honest with you, I was torn between ghosting you or continuing. That explains the lie a lot.” he clears his throat, looking into your eyes. You’re not giving him a reaction (except the fact that you’re already as red as a fucking cooked lobster from his hand placement), just like he said, don’t interrupt him.

“I mean- after all those messing around, I grow tired of it. I-I don’t even want to flirt anymore, I want to be comforted.. Those girls, those people.. They know I’m not serious and they do the same, y/n. We just kinda.. Have a good time and dipped.”

You’re still sitting in silence, eyes fixed on Jaemin, who now looks flustered. This is not Jaemin at all, he’s usually cocky, cheeky, and flirty, just exactly like a few seconds ago. He usually throws wink here and there, but now he actually looks… vulnerable.

“I was surprised you’re still holding on for like 3 months.. Those girls won’t even last for 2 days, y/n. It’ll end up me ghosting them or vice versa, no one ever had a second date with me. But you, you can’t seem to give up when I’m not replying, don’t you?” he chuckles as he looks at you softly,

You giggle at him a little, “Yes. I’m THAT dumb, Jaemin.” you admit to him. In reality, you know it, you know when he’s not replying, he’s probably with some other girls. But you are being deadass, you just don’t know what possessed you, you just keep on texting him like it’s nothing.

He rubs the back of his neck, “I was actually scared that you’ll dump me when I develop actual feelings to you.. Or worse, what if I break your heart after we have something? I mean, if I have to, I’d break it now, so the pain is not too harsh. That’s why I keep on lying to you, and maybe, not replying to your messages.”

At first, you feel bad from hearing him speak truthfully. But after he opened his mouth again, you can feel the anger slowly rising again through your veins. He is very very selfish and self-centered. Is this how he show his true color? A man with a big ego? That’s it?

You tilted your head, “Fuck you. Really. Then why did you start the conversation, Jaemin? You could’ve told me how you felt and we’re set. But I can see-”

He shakes his head, interrupting your words, “I-I told you, y/n. I’m very torn between wanting to pursue you, or letting you go. That’s why I often not replying right after I texted you. I’m sorry, I really do.”

You’re angry. You’re sad. But you’re confused that you’re a little happy too, hearing him speak from the bottom of his heart. But that’s very selfish of him, doing those acts to you. He could’ve told you what he actually feels way earlier than this, so you can make sure what are you two doing, instead of playing pointless games of ghosting and chasing around again.

“I see. You’re so fucking selfish, Jaemin. We talked for months and this is all I got? Am I not worth of your explanation from the start? I know you wouldn’t do anything if I hadn’t drag your ass in the middle of the fucking party!” you stand up, you can no longer hide your disappointment to him, tears start rolling down your face.

His heart breaks a little, watching bundle of tears fall from your eyes. He is the heartbreaker, but those girls were never crying when he ghosted them after they had fun, those girls would catch another boys and forget about Jaemin right away. This is Jaemin’s first ever experience, seeing a girl crying because of what he did.

He knows that he’s an asshole for playing fire, but now he feels like he is THE asshole. He broke your heart right on, and it breaks his heart right back.

You sigh deeply, trying to catch a breath after a few sobs. “Don’t fucking find me. Have fun with your girls.” you look at his eyes with full of anger and hate. With heavy steps, you walk to the door, thinking about things you’re about to do once you get downstairs, probably joining Lucas and the gang, stoning yourself out, so you don’t have to think about Jaemin and his stupid beautiful face.

Just when you try to reach the door knob, you can feel Jaemin is grabbing onto your hand.

“Y/n, I am truly sorry.. After what you did earlier, I realized that I’m a big fucking loser. I can’t even admit my feelings. When you call me out earlier, I just wanna dissolve into thin air. I can’t handle the shame of being such a dick, I should’ve told you what I feel instead of making uncertain decisions.”

You turn to him, seeing his eyes glimmering, probably because of the tears pooling up. You’re hurt, you want to push him away as far as possible, you want to see him suffer. Hell, you just want him to extinct. But seeing him like this, you can’t lie to your own feelings, you like him. You really do. But just like your sorority sisters taught you, yourself comes first, not those stupid silly boys who just fuck around.

“Goodbye, Jaemin.” you say to him, holding back more tears coming in.

Just when you’re getting ready to reach the doorknob for the second time, he pulls you into his arms. You want to let go of him, but he’s strong, and you- actually wanting this for so long. You hate him, but you have feelings for him. You can’t help but stay on his embrace.

And then... There it is, the feels. It comes back, the way you hide yourself from Yeri whenever you pick up his calls, or maybe the late night drive to nearby McDonalds, or maybe flirting through the notes you pass during class, or maybe the first kiss you shared with him in front of your sorority house, and ended up being scolded by Yeri and Joy. 

You realized that it was a stupid crush with the stupid playboy Na Jaemin, but you enjoyed your time with him. You remembered how he likes to send you goodnight selfies, or maybe the way he pouts a lot when driving. Those 3 months of on-and-off-unofficial-relationships with him, is actually making you feel things.

“Y/n, I know I don’t deserve you, but really.. This time, I mean it. I promise, I won’t mess around. Please, I know I’ve been such a dick, but if you just give me one more chance, y/n..  But I completely understand, if you hate me, and you probably want to slam me to death, and I will allow you-”

You look up to him and grabbed his face, crashing his lips into yours. He tastes like cherry soda, with a hint of cigarettes. He seems like enjoying the kiss, he cupped your cheeks as he deepened the kiss. You can feel his hands travel around your body, only to land in your hips.

You want to trust him this time. He promised you. He meant it. He will take care of you. And you trust him, this time. 

“Alright, busy boy. I do want to slam you, though... But remember, just because you’re so damn fine, I won’t even think twice to dump your ass if you act up.” you warn him.

The tears you shed just bloomed into giggles and smiles. The inconsistency between the 3 months before finally disappeared, and reborn again into a new promise.

He nods. “Believe me baby, you’re the one who wants to be slammed right now.” he teases you, glancing to his bed. You can feel your cheeks reddening again, you lightly hit him, and he laughs. He’s a cheeky boy.

“Busy boy, huh?” he giggles, “Your busy boy.”

The anger within you is released now. No more chasing around like a fool, no more getting late replies from Jaemin, no more nights of hoping that he’d reply, because he’s only busy for you now.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

Introductory prologue. The main pairing will be established ironstrange x reader. This story will be rated explicit, have some canon-typical violence and language. The 'fuck' harvest is bountiful this time of the year. Updates - irregular so far, I'm posting it as I go.

No y/n, no "you", no name - nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns. Please leave a comment if you spot a stray 'blushing' or the likes, I write as it flows and sometimes miss those words when I proofread. I try to be inclusive of all my readers.

"Your total is twelve dollars, seventeen cents," I rattled off on autopilot, casting a glance at the cash register and plastering an automatic smile onto my face. The pleasant expression was frozen on it, stuck like glue, despite the news I had received earlier in the day. "Thank you, have a nice day," I doubted the customer actually heard my words.

One of those business-types, wearing a tailored two-piece, with a Bluetooth headset attached to their ear and brain always a mile away, our little coffee shop a mild interruption in their daily routine of making more and more money. "Hello, how can I help you?" I addressed the next customer, my eyes unseeing, gliding over their face and to the storefront where I noticed we were running low on eclairs and carrot cake.

"Hey, Starlight," the woman's voice was familiar, tone soothing, as I snapped my eyes to meet a pair of reddish-brown ones, staring at me with concern. "The usual," our city's very own superhero; Wanda Maximoff stood before me with her head curiously tilted to the side and her brother hovering behind her, examining the assortment of various cakes on display. "Long day?"

"You have no idea," I sighed, sending off the organic, single-use cups with scribbles off to Dave, our barista. Wanda's order was large, usually about ten or twelve coffees and quite a few treats, so I donned on some nitrile gloves to package the treats while Dave handled the drinks with practiced ease. I admired his stoicism. "Might be seeing a bit less of me," the woman's eyebrows rose in displeasure at my admission.

"Tony won't be happy," Wanda mumbled, side-eyeing the backdoor behind which my boss usually resided during the day. "You got fired?" The words attracted the attention of her brother. Pietro was immediately at her side, joining into the concerned staring.

"Nope," I popped the 'p', methodically shoving the food in its packaging. "The café is expanding hours and our shifts are being split now. Jeremy is dead set on me working the graveyard shift, so I'll be here six AM to two PM," I couldn't help the sigh that left my lips.

My boss, Jeremy, had opened his boulangerie little over two years ago, and as he had predicted, it set off almost immediately. The place was located almost in the heart of the dozen corporate sky-rises full of busy, wealthy people who liked their things to be both instant and luxurious. Jeremy had fit right in with the law sharks and business vultures, if you ask me, with his penchant for demanding the impossible.

I was expecting an increase in work hours, I wasn't going to lie - our little cafe was busy nearly all the time it was open - but the fact that he chose to split a day's shift came as a punch to the gut. Like most service staff, I made most of my money from the tips, and they and they only were the only reason I stayed in a place with a shrew for a boss and the worst health insurance in the area. Thankfully, the rich businessmen from local offices didn't count their money and left me more than generous tips.

The coffee machine beeped for the last time as Dave passed me the three cupholders before I carefully bagged them, arranging the treats on top. I saw Wanda lick her lips at the aromas coming from the paper bag before Pietro snatched them out of my grasp. I rattled off the total, catching Wanda's eye as she passed me several twenty dollar bills, waving off my attempt to return the change.

"Penny for your wandering thoughts?" She smiled warmly as I chuckled at the question I've grown to expect with a quiet sort of joy.

The first time she'd wandered in, soaking wet from the rain and looking as lost as a child in a mall, ten minutes before closing time, I was reading my book right at the counter as I waited for the coffee machine to clean itself. I hadn't even noticed the quiet woman until her words startled me out of the book-induced trance and I shamefully had to ask her to repeat herself, hastily shoving my book under the counter. She smiled at me, shyly, and asked me about my reading instead of rattling an order for one of the sickly sweet caffeine concoctions female customers seemed to love. And she returned in a few days, asking the same question after taking a careful look at my face.

"And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about." I took a careful moment to recall a paragraph from the book I was currently reading, Murakami's 'Kafka on the Shore'. It seemed fitting, with all that had been going on in my life recently. I was still caught in the middle of the storm, unsure if I'd make it out but hoping for it nonetheless.

"That's beautiful," Pietro smiled at me, the tips of his silver hair reflecting the lights of the cafe's baroque style chandeliers. I barely managed to smile at him as he was already speeding off, the entrance door banging shut behind a blur of white and blue. Each time he did that, I couldn't help but wonder how he managed to not spill any of the hot beverages.

"Because it's true," Wanda added with a comforting smile. I nodded in agreement, hoping some of her positive attitude would dissipate the sense of doom I'd been lugging around all day. She departed, taking the sense of comfort with her, as I caught the tail end of something shouted in Sokovian - something that sounded exactly in place, coming from one disgruntled sibling to another.

When the residents of the nearby Stark tower began frequenting my workplace, I barely had the composure to stifle my quiet fangirling to socially acceptable levels. Not long after the Scarlet Witch turned a semi-regular, she started bringing her colleagues with her - Hawkeye at first, who was a decent, normal dude; he looked like an exasperated dad and Pietro appeared every thing the rambunctious son, as the younger man peppered the older man with questions about the cakes on our display.

They all had fancy names, but at the bottom of it, a chocolate cake was a chocolate cake. That much I told them, with a snort, earning myself a lopsided grin and a generous tip as I patiently listed off the more commonly used, simplified designations for the twins as the knowledge of them being European immigrants crossed my mind.

After Hawkeye came the Black Widow, and then Captain America with a sunny smile and his moody boyfriend in tow. While Bucky Barnes' expression was generally sour, the man had a wicked sweet tooth, shoveling frosted, glazed treats at the rate of a competitive eater. Both men were extremely polite if not very chatty and tipped well.

Tony Stark himself - well, he was a special one. His sense of humour trailed on the fine line of obscene, oftentimes raising the eyebrows of nearby people standing in line. I wasn't born yesterday, either: years of customer service work left me with little-to-no surprise regarding overzealous men and I could quip back equally as sharply, just slightly south of Tony's own jokes. He never overstepped, however, and with time, I developed a quiet appreciation for our small talks.

Which did brighten up my day, if only a little. "A little birdy told me your boss is being a douchebag. Want me to clean up that muck?" Tony was, as usual, wearing a bespoke suit and sunglasses, which he'd pushed up to his forehead as he frivolously leaned on the counter after placing his order.

I sighed, remembering Wanda's words. I didn't know what to expect from the eccentric billionaire; last of all, I didn't want any handouts. I'd started a search for a second part-time job the very day I got told my pay would be essentially cut in half. "No need, Mr. Stark, I'm gonna be fine and dandy," I replied with a smile that I was sure didn't really reach my eyes. "We'll still be able to resume our nice chit-chat at brunch on Saturdays," I winked, hoping to keep up the usual light atmosphere of our banter.

"I told you to call me Tony!" He exclaimed, like always, shaking his head and glaring at the back door. "Yeah, no," the man had absolutely no chill. "I'll still sic the IRS on him," the last part was said quietly. Mr. Stark often spoke to himself.

I laughed at the rich-kid, spoilt way he was acting. A grown man with an attitude of a teenager and a sweet tooth to match one - except for his coffee. That was always the strongest, blackest one we had on hand. I hadn't even heard of a triple espresso until Mr. Stark had waltzed in, skipping the line and filling the air around him with the smells of cologne that smelled like money, motor oil, iron and soot.

The moment I opened my e-mail at home, I felt my gloomy mood worsen, Mr. Stark's words echoing in my head. I'd sent my resumes to two dozen places and only a handful even bothered to reply - all preemptive rejections, there weren't businesses needing a part-time employee with a useless degree, who could only work evenings. Except bars, but they required some sort of certificate for bartenders and lots and lots of bare skin for waitresses. I tried to steer away from that part of the industry as much as I could, saving it as a last resort option.

It had come down to browsing Craigslist as I ate my way through a carton of cheap take-out, too exhausted to cook and too anxious to go out to the nearby bodega after 9 PM. One more negative side of working late shift - making my way home in the dead of the night in NYC and hoping Spider-Man was hanging out nearby should a thug decide on me to be their next victim. The joys of big city life.

As the column of various ads stared at me with various suspicious offers to make quick money, ads for 'young, sociable women' and I stared back at them in muted disgust. The 'looking for a job' section was much more sensible with the few ads I'd clicked on out of curiosity depicting people seemingly in a similar situation as me - short on money but not desperate enough to surrender their dignity to corporate greed. The decision was momentary - I'd started typing and hit the post button before I was through with my food, slapping my old laptop shut as soon as the as posted.

Hopefully, the creeps will stay away. The next couple of days stretched out slowly as I got up at the crack of dawn to open the shop, served the early birds whilst sipping my own matcha latte and clocked out not a second later than 2PM, taking home half the usual amount of tips. My e-mail remained as silent as ever, only a few suspicious replies to my ad, texts that I didn't even bother replying to. Human trafficking and pyramid schemes, was that all that NYC had to offer?

Apparently, not. Around 6PM, my phone dinged as a notification popped up and I scrambled to read it - all too aware of the upcoming rent day, and was pleasantly surprised with the contents of the e-mail, re-reading it several times to make sure there weren't any hidden stones under the water. I replied with my phone number, not expecting it to ring within minutes of hitting the send button.

"Hello?"

"Hi, we just corresponded," the voice on the other side was feminine but slightly rough, as if it's owner spent days chain-smoking. "I would like to invite you for a small interview, if you wouldn't mind."

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Could I ask you some questions first?" The levels of anxiety, I thought, were reasonable in the situation. It mutely gnawed at my chest.

"Sure," the woman agreed amicably. "My name is Odette, by the way," she mentioned off-handedly, the name fitting her voice in a strange way.

"Uh, well," I stammered. "You mentioned it's a herbal medicine shop, you're not selling weed under the counter, are you?" I voiced my worries meekly, hoping for an honest answer.

The woman laughed, a sharp, terse sound. "No, dear, I do not sell or possess anything illegal. I merely offer supplies for the locals that prefer natural, alternative medicine." She sounded jovial.

"Like - um, healing crystals?" I vaguely remembered reading about them on the internet, or seeing them in a YouTube video, perhaps.

"Yes, we sell those, too," her tone grew more joyful at the mention of the shiny rocks. I didn't think that they actually cured anything, to be honest, however I was willing to give it some credit - the placebo effect was a scientific fact. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

"Okay then," I chuckled nervously. "I'm free tomorrow after 3 PM."

"Grand. The shop is open until 10 PM, just say your name at the counter and I'll be right with you."

As soon as I hung up, relief and curiosity and trepidation blossomed within me, imagination unhelpfully supplying images of human trafficking documentaries, basements with chains and other, less horrifying but still unusual things. The pep talk over a wine glass that I had was necessary: it was a herbal shop, for fuck's sake. Worst case, I'm going to work with Karens who think the Earth is flat and quartz cures cancer. I could even get a funny story or two out of those, something to share with Bucky or Wanda in lieu of the usual book quotes I entertain them with.

The day went by smoothly, the café no more and no less busy than usual so after a brief detour back home to put on something that didn't smell like coffee grounds and yeast: comfortable pants and a soft sweater, something that would keep me warm but would not unnecessarily restrict any movement. My good luck charm, a large oval necklace with a shiny gold star in the middle, hung heavily around my neck, providing quiet comfort.

Heart thudding in my chest, I approached the old-style, inconspicuous building, double-checking the address before opening the old, heavy wooden door right at the corner of the building. It was like a movie scene, in a way - the day was overcast, meager sun rays shining through the lead curtain of clouds, the streets were clear and few honks rung out in the far end of block, sending a flock of pigeons into a lazy scatter over the slanted roof. The door creaked softly, the handle cold under my touch, instantly filling my nose with a strong smell of herbs so plentiful, I could not distinguish one from another.

Inside didn't look any less intriguing: the décor was outdated but somehow fitting and homely, high wooden shelves stocked with glass jars and wooden boxes with neatly placed labels on them. The counter was empty - save for a large, golden bell, which I timidly pressed.

The woman who emerged from behind the worn cotton curtains behind the counter most certainly was impressive. Tall and broad, with dark eyebrows and even darker eyes, she critically surveyed me for a moment, making me shiver under her gaze - and then she smiled, revealing rows of pearly white teeth and instantaneously losing the imposing aura around her.

"Um, hi- I'm-" I didn't get to finish my nervous stammering.

She interrupted me with a careless wave of her hand. "Here for the interview. Yes. Welcome, Star," her eyes briefly fell on my necklace while I struggled to swallow the unease.

I hadn't told her my nickname - to be honest, these days, I heard it more often than my given name. People quickly took notice of my love of star-patterned items and teased me relentlessly over it, losing heat only when I calmly went along with it, too used to hearing the same jokes since my early childhood.

Odette motioned me over, parting the curtains to reveal a tiny, but tastefully decorated hall with two doors on each side and a staircase at the far end of it. I followed her into the room on the left, which turned out to be a peculiar sort of office. I thought I noticed an Ouija board in there but wisely kept my mouth shut.

"I live on the floor above the shop so don't go throwing any parties while you're on the job," she remarked playfully, gesturing to a pot of tea. "It's peppermint, does wonders for calming one's demeanor," the gesture was sweet - and very telling.

I wondered if I looked as spooked as I felt. After all, it didn't seem like Odette and her business were fishy in any way, and the décor and atmosphere were quite... Appealing, in a way. Something magical, something belonging in Europe or on a high schooler's Pinterest board. I sipped my tea in-between questions, thinking how maybe, I could actually grow accustomed to this place.

The shopkeeper acted as if I'd already accepted the job and I - well, it's not like I had any other options waiting for me. The pay was more than I expected it to be, for such a small bodega and a part-time shift, and it would help me cover my bills with enough to spare. The customers were said to be mostly regular and undemanding, with a few rare exceptions, and should I need assistance, the owner was always a call and a floor away.

With a considerably lighter heart, I left to pad the damp sidewalk back towards my house. Thankfully, my new workplace was only a short walk away.

The tag list is open until the story is finished. Please use the 'taglist' Google form to request (top of the fic, clickable link).

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

[skeezsbbygirl]

call me that too + kim seungmin

this one’s for anon who requested a seungmin scenario with a dash of oppa kink. i didn’t go too overboard hehe, just a sprinkle of a suggestive theme at the end (i’ll leave it to your imagination asdjhfrirgjgl cuz i can’t handle them feelssss ugh)

nonetheless, I hope you guys enjoy! oh and thank you for the love that you guys are showing for “peaches + bang chan” uwuuuu (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

REQUEST BOX IS STILL OPEN. STREAM GOD’S MENU AND VOTE FOR OUR BOYS.

[5:12 p.m.] A yawn escaped your lips as you managed to go through all your assigned lectures for the day. You logged out from your university's portal and shut your laptop close, not wanting to stare at the bright screen any longer. You sauntered towards the kitchen and opened the drawer that contained all your caffeine-related pick-me-ups. As you were about to grab a mug, your actions were halted by your phone's ringtone, signalling a call as it rang on the coffee table from your apartment's living room. You managed to accept the call before it was dropped.

SeungMong <3

"Hey," you answered, sauntering back to the kitchen as you cradled your phone in between your right ear and shoulder to keep your hands free. "Baby, are you busy?" Seungmin asked. You shook your head but you mentally facepalmed as you remembered that the boy on the other line couldn't see you, "No. I just finished some school stuff. What's up?"

"Can you come over? Chan-hyung wants to take us out for dinner," Seungmin replied and you could faintly hear Jisung and Changbin screaming in the background -- something about Chan covering food expenses for the first time. You lightly chuckled and responded, "Yeah sure, I'll be there in twenty."

An hour passed and you were all gathered at the boys’ go-to restaurant, which was three blocks down from your university's dormitory.

"Am I dreaming?" Jisung teased as he hopped off Chan's car, Changbin and Jeongin not far behind him. “Somebody drive him back home,” Chan groaned to which the younger one giggled, jumping on his back in the process. “Hyung, come on. I was just poking fun at you,” Jisung cooed at the elder, earning him a light flick on the forehead from Chan.

You beamed at the sight of the boys playfully bickering. “Pay attention to me,” Seungmin whined and nudged your shoulder. You broke into a cheesy grin and gave his cheek a peck, “You always have my attention.”

Seungmin extended a hand towards you, to which you gladly complied, squeezing his hand three times as you intertwined your hand with his -- your silent way of saying ‘I love you’. 

Soon after, you guys were seated inside the restaurant and you fell into each of your own said conversations. 

“How was your day?” Seungmin asked as he adjusted his seat closer to yours. “Better now that I’m with you,” you said in a voice soft with affection. Seungmin chuckled, “Stop it.” You shook your head, leaning closer so that your forehead touched his. “You’re so cute,” you teased, which earned you a pout from the older male. “You do know that I’m a year older than you, right?” Seungmin bragged. You rolled your eyes, “Your point being?”

Seungmin sighed in defeat, opting to plant a kiss on your lips, but you were interrupted by multiple groans and a chorus of complains. “Get a room already!” Felix exclaimed with his hands covering his eyes, a poor attempt to discard the sight of yours and Seungmin’s “sickening” affection, as Minho described it. You stuck a tongue out at Felix, “Stop being so bitter.”

Felix faked sob and Jeongin joined in on his act, embracing the older male and patting his head.

Soon, your playful banter came to an end as your orders arrived. You guys were eating in silence, uttering a compliment here and there towards the dishes that you were served, until Hyunjin called for your attention.

“Oh, (y/n), before I forget,” the older male started, only stopping for a second to sip on his drink. “I found that outline you’ve been looking for,” he continued. “Please tell me you have it,” you pleaded, eager to finish the book review that your professor has quested upon your class a week ago. Hyunjin nodded, “The copy is in the car, I got you.”

You cheered as you reached out your hand to give him a high-five. “You’re the best, oppa.”

With your response, Hyunjin immediately side-eyed Seungmin’s reaction. He might have known something or at least sensed something, specifically when Seungmin blabbered -- well, more like ranted -- about you not calling him the said endearment you just used on Hyunjin a few seconds ago. 

Let’s rewind, shall we?

Hyunjin was an hour away from a deadline, and yes, he admits that he may have finished his project sooner, but a certain someone, who goes by the name of Jisung, decided that it would be more fun to play video games over at Felix and Changbin’s dorm. “That stupid project isn’t even due for another day. Chill out, dude,” Jisung claimed with burgeoning excitement. Instead of turning his friend down -- or better, kicking his tempting ass out of the dorm -- he caved in.

Hours later, he was cramming at least two days worth of work into an hour. Then comes your boyfriend, Seungmin. “Hyunjin!” the younger male called out from their dorm’s entrance. “In here!” Hyunjin hollered, his fingers still hot on his laptop’s keyboard, seven more questions and a descriptive about his said stand on the project, and he’ll be done -- both figuratively and literally, his brain’s slowly pan-frying itself to destruction. He mentally cursed Jisung.

“Procrastination at its finest,” Seungmin mocked as he entered Hyunjin’s room. “You can nag me later, bur right now I have to finish this and then kick Jisung’s ass,” Hyunjin said with firm persistence. The younger lad sighed and sat down on a bean bag at the corner of the room. “I don’t have the energy to nag,” Seungmin whispered, but Hyunjin still managed to catch his words. He jokingly rolled his eyes, finding slight amusement towards Seungmin’s puppy expression.

“You and (y/n), had a fight?” Hyunjin asked, his attention still on his laptop but he figured he needed Seungmin for a little background noise to keep him sane, plus the guy’s one of his best friends. “Not really,” Seungmin disagreed. “Then, what got you all gloomy?” Hyunjin insisted, but he was only met with silence.

“Seungmo, come on, spill.”

“She addresses you as an ‘oppa’,” Seungmin blurted out after a few seconds. “Who addresses me as what?” Hyunjin asked, his eyebrows contorted in confusion. “(y/n),” Seungmin answered as he buried his face in his arms. “Seungmo, you do know that she does that to everybody that’s older than her, right?” Hyunjin replied, “It’s called being polite.”

“Well, I call it being unfair.”

Hyunjin chuckled in amusement, “Please elaborate.”

“You and I are the same age, which means that I’m older than her too, but she doesn’t call me that,” Seungmin whined.

And that’s how Seungmin ended up being silent for the rest of the night. You, being unaware of the situation, shrugged it off, thinking that he was just exhausted from his vocal lessons. Until, Hyunjin decided to let you in on the puppy’s cause of gloominess.

“Here, now go ace that literature course,” Hyunjin handed you the outline he promised, giving your head a pat in the process. “Thank you, oppa.”

“One more thing, (y/n),” Hyunjin said as he leaned down and whispered, “Seungmin wants to be called that too.”

“Huh?” you turned to him in confusion, but Hyunjin just stared at you and decided that you would come into revelation in a few seconds. “Oh,” you gasped, eyes lighting up in the process. “That’s why he’s been acting weird,” you added. Hyunjin smiled in approval, “Do something and wipe that pout off his face.”

The car ride back to your dorm was silent. Seungmin kept his eyes on the road, no words were exchanged between the two of you and he clearly showed no effort of doing so any time soon. You’re slowly running out of time as your building came into view a few minutes later. Seungmin slowly stopped the car and got out, he jogged towards your side and opened the door for you.

Go time.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” Seungmin said. His expression was sad but he still managed to give you a kiss on the forehead. He was about to pull away but you prevented him from doing so by holding his face in your hands. You stared at him lovingly, thanking the universe for bringing this man into your life. 

“I love you, oppa,” you whispered, but loud enough for him to hear you. 

A soft gasp escaped from his lips as his eyes widened, “What did you just call me?”

“Oppa, why?” you giggled and gave his nose a kiss. “Don’t get me wrong, I feel like I’m on top of the world right now, but you never call me that,” Seungmin wondered, his arms now wrapped around your waist, allowing him to pull you closer. “Let’s just say, a little bird told me,” you teased.

“Hwang Hyunjin!”

You laughed, “Don’t get mad at him.”

“Listen,” you called back for his attention, “I don’t call you oppa because I use that on everybody who’s older than me, well close friends of course, but you know what I mean.”

“And you, Kim Seungmin, are not just anybody. You’re my person, my everything, my whole world. You’re special to me and you matter the most,” you explained, pouring your feelings out for the said man. You were about to say more in order to get rid of Seungmin’s doubt, but he cut you off with a kiss.

You guys were practically making out in your dormitory’s parking lot, but it’s the least of your worries right now.

You pulled away first as you tried to catch your breath. “I love you so much, (y/n),” Seungmin confessed, his expression now darker as you witnessed his eyes fill with desire. “And I’ll prove that to you.”

“What do you mean, oppa?”

Seungmin leaned down, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Don’t test me, baby.”

You whimpered in response, “Do whatever you want. I’m all yours, oppa.”

[justcourttee]

So you are one of my favorite writers for the Maribat Fandom and this is litterally like just on the edge getting ready to dive into barely there territory. . . but imagine Chloe "Queen B" Bourgeois deciding that Roy Harper is her future husband because he is the only one her age with the potential to even hyphenate Queen. She /will/ get her title in her civilian life if she has to drag Roy to the courthouse herself. Cue shenanigans and chaos friends to lovers lol

You’re so sweet and I hope I did your prompt justice. I love the Roy X Chloe energy and this is just something I could picture cannon Chloe trying. I hope you enjoy! @risaxtitan

The Future Mrs. Queen

The day Oliver Queen announced to the world in that fated press conference that he was adopting Roy Harper, the younger boy had no idea how much his life was about to change.

He was still floating on Cloud 9 as he stepped off of the stage and into the crowd where his friends awaited him.

“Dude, congrats! It’s like all official now!” Adrien clapped him on the back, causing him to stumble forward a little.

“It still feels unreal.”

“Tt, it’s not like your his blood son, but I suppose this will be a good opportunity for you.”

Roy cocked his head to the side as he tried to debate if Damian was congratulating him or not. A small smack echoed following an ‘oof’ as Marinette’s bright smile entered his view.

“I’m so happy for you Roy! Conner, Jon, and Wally wanted to come with us, but you know how it goes. Always a mission somewhere.”

Roy shook his head, the smile still plastered across his face.

“It’s fine Mari, it’s not like today was the real thing. This was just a press conference. They were there when we officially signed the papers and that’s what matters in my book.”

“So, like, is your last name officially Queen now?”

Roy’s attention snapped to his left where a familiar blonde stepped out from behind Adrien. She fiddled with the ends of her curled hair, her mischievous blue eyes locked onto his. Certainly if a beautiful girl like her had told him her name, he wouldn’t have forgotten it.

“I suppose so. It’s officially Roy William Harper-Queen.”

Her smile was blinding as he nervously reached back to rub the back of his very warm neck.

“Oh Gods, we are so dense! I’m sorry Roy! This is my friend Chloe Bourgeois! Adrien was supposed to introduce you two earlier, but we all got separated in the crowd. She’s a big fan of Oliver Queen, so when she heard my dear friend was getting adopted by him-”

“I just had to come.” She stepped in front of Marinette, reaching forward to grab his hand. “Did you know that I tried to legally change my name to Queen? But my mother wouldn’t let me! She’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Something about it wouldn’t be good for my modeling career or whatever. But now, you can help me with that! Can’t be bad if it’s my husband’s last name.”

Roy stumbled out of her grasps, his entire face matching the red on his head.

“Hu-husband? Girl, we just met. You can’t go around saying things like that!”

Chloe waved off his embarrassment as her blinding smile pulled into a mischievous smirk.

“Like it or not Roy Harper-Queen, you will be my husband, even if I have to drag you to the courthouse myself!”

“Yeah right blondie.” He couldn’t help the stutter in his voice as he hid behind Damian’s chuckling figure.

There was no denying how attractive she was, but he would be damned if he let a pretty blonde step in and seal his fate.

“Maybe not today, but you’re going to love me Roy Harper-Queen, just you wait.”

The flip of her hair felt like a slap across his face as he watched her retreating figure dragging Marinette with her.

“So like, Can I be your best man? I know that you’ve known the other’s longer and all, but like we are always hanging out together! That has to count for something.”

Adrien’s wide eyes and pout earned a slight chuckle from the redhead as his eyes trailed back to where his friends stood.

“Sure Agreste, I’m sure everyone won’t mind one bit. You might have to fight Tim-”

“Tt, is that supposed to be a threat?”

Adrien and Roy shared a look before bursting into laughter. Roy slung his arms around the two boys as they headed off into the crowd. He wouldn’t see Chloe for another couple of weeks, but that didn’t stop the blonde from monopolizing his every thought.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“C’mon Arsenal, you really going to let your ass get beat by a little girl?”

Roy sneered as he pushed himself off the matt for the third time that day.

When Dick asked if he wanted to train with the Batclan, Roy was over the moon. Batman hardly let anyone into his special training spot without him being there. He didn’t think twice when he put the motorcycle in park outside of Wayne Manor. He already knew what to expect, Dick’s flexibility, Stephanie’s strategy, Damian’s rage. What he wasn’t expecting was to see a certain blonde and his two friends.

“She’s not beating my ass Stephanie, I just don’t want to hurt her.”

Dick had a hard time holding back his laugh as he leaned on Marinette for support. A hand shot into his line of view as he accepted Chloe’s helping pull him the rest of the way to his feet.

“C’mon mon chéri, your face is pretty too, but it’s not going to make me pull my punches. Give it to me, cherry.” She sent a wink in his direction as she set up for another spar.

If you asked Roy later, the red in his cheeks was from the anger at being called a cherry, but anyone could see the blush betraying him.

Chloe darted forward, dodging his first swing before smacking his butt.

“HEY!”

Roy pushed himself out of her reach as Stephanie and her shared a fist bump. There was no way he was getting out of training alive. He needed a way to finish this as quickly as possible.

“Blondie, what if we make a bet?”

Chloe raised her eyebrow at him, encouraging him to continue as she set herself back up in the circle.

“The next one of us to pin the other gets to pick the next hang out spot. I know it’s your turn in the rotation, so if you win, nobody will put a restriction on your choice.”

Her eyes glistened dangerously as a collective gasp sounded behind them.

“Hey, Roy, are you sure you want to do that? She-”

“Shut it Agreste. The boy has named his terms, no restrictions for me, or he gets to steal my turn. I’ll gladly accept Ginger.”

A sudden shift in the atmosphere was easily noticeable. Inadvertently, a shiver went down his back as every hair on his body stood in high alert. Her first strike was quick, he barely lifted his arms up in time to block it before she had hopped backwards, ready to hit again.

He thought he was the one holding back before, but clearly he was underestimating. Here she was, no longer holding back, toying with him as if he was nothing more than her prey. It was a bit terrifying.

Just as he extended his arm to try and make contact, Roy suddenly found himself on his back, her knee at his throat.

“God, when did you even knock my feet out?”

Her eyes were dancing with humor as she slowly stood, offering her hand to the boy below.

“We tried to warn you, my friend. Chloe doesn’t do competition, she destroys them.”

Adrien offered his hand as well and together the two blondes heaved him to his feet. Marnette shook her head solemnly as she and Dick mock prayed for Roy’s fate.

“So, no restrictions huh? That means overseas is fair game.” Chloe placed a hand gently on Roy’s shoulder sending a chill down his spine. “Guess tomorrow, we are going to Paris, France. Richard, is there a Zeta-Tube that does overseas?”

Dick finished his mock prayer before sending a nod in her direction.

“Perfect. Marinette, tell your little gloomy boyfriend and Timothy that we will be taking a day trip tomorrow, to the city of love.”

She sent a wink to Roy as she stepped out of the rink to grab her towel. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t ignore the racing in his heart all from one little comment.

“You are falling so hard, my friend!” Roy flinched as Dick threw his arm over his shoulder, sharing a fist bump with Adrien.

“I am not! I barely know her! We’re like acquaintances, at most she’s just a friend.”

Adrien stiffened as he bit back his laughter.

“Just you wait, after tomorrow, you’ll be questioning everything you know.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Roy was indeed questioning everything, like his sanity, as he stepped out of the tube and onto the tallest platform of the Eiffel Tower. Taking a quick step back from the edge, he found himself pressed against the cool metal.

“Isn’t it like illegal to be this high up?”

Chloe’s giggle filled the air as she smacked his arm lightly.

“Of course it is, for normal people that is. We can’t just have everyone using the Zeta tubes ginger.” Her fingers curled into his hair as she gave it a light ruffle.

“Tt, man up Harper. Even if you fall, it’s not like you’d hit the ground before someone here saved your sorry ass.”

A small ‘oof’ echoed from where Damian stood as Marinette stepped out of the tube.

“You didn’t even hear what I said!”

“True,” she shrugged, a smug smile pulling at her lips. “But I assume you were making fun of Roy.”

Damian huffed under his breath as he snaked his arm around her waist, drawing her into his side. Roy was never sure how someone like Damian could have landed a sweet angel like Marinette, but if it meant he had a constant guardian angel, he could care less.

“Where’s Adrikins?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘I don’t want to be a third wheel and neither does Tim.’”

Chloe rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the sparkle from the new information.

“Looks like it’s a double date!” She gripped Roy’s arm pulling him from his safety. “You wouldn’t leave me alone to those two annoying lovebirds would you Harper?”

Roy gulped nervously as his eyes darted between the couple and the blonde hanging off of him. With a sigh of defeat, he nodded, allowing her to pull him closer to the edge.

“I hope you’re ready Harper because if you survive today, there’s no way you won’t fall for me.”

Without warning, Chloe used all her strength to push him off the platform. The scream caught in his throat as the wind rushed past him. Some first date! Here she was trying to kill him within the first five minutes!

A flash of yellow flew past him, catching his attention briefly before an arm yanked him out of midair. This time, the scream managed to slip out, but instead of fear, he felt instant relief as he flew through the air pinned to Queen Bee’s side.

“There was an easier way of doing this Chloe!” He tried to shout over the wind but it felt useless. The only indication that she might have heard his pleas came from the sideways smile she flashed him as the came to a halt in an alleyway.

As his feet touched to ground, his legs instantly gave out. On his hands and knees, Roy reassured himself that this was safe, in solid ground. Moments later, a flash of pink blinded him as Marinette and Damian landed in front of him.

“What’s wrong Harper? You look a little green. I thought that was Oliver’s color.”

Roy’s middle finger only seemed to fuel the egotistical smirk Damian bestowed on him.

“If that was too much, I can’t wait to see how you handle the rest of the day.”

His eyes widened as he tried to imagine what could be worse than freefalling a few hundred feet from the highest structure in Paris. Little did he know, he would soon get his answer.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Bourgeois.” He tried to keep his voice steady as he offered his hand to her, but the condescending stare made him want to crumble.

“What do you expect me to do? Shake your hand? Honey, you may have been adopted into money, but you are not money. I do not touch any person that is worth less than I am.”

She turned her back briskly as Roy slowly dropped his hand, unsure of whether to be insulted or not.

“Mom, Roy is my friend, can’t you be nice?”

Her mother’s cold glare rested on Chloe. Roy had no idea how she managed to stand her ground. He wanted to crumble for her.

“You are lucky I let you into my workshop after you have missed the past three fittings. When I said you could move to America with the Marianne kid, I expected you to still make time for the business. Should I begin looking for your replacement?”

The tension between the two of them was deadly. Roy wanted to step in, tell her mother to back off, that Chloe was a hero who didn’t always have time for fashion, but somehow, he figured it would only make it worse.

“No mother, I am here now am I not? Let us work quickly so that I can return home.”

Her tone was icy as she stepped forward, holding out her arms for her mother to remeasure. Roy shifted from foot to foot as he held back his tongue. Her mother commented on her weight gain, complained that she was going to begin to fat to be her model anymore. She commented on her studies, or lack of, and on her being a class d hero compared to Superman.

It was to quietest he had ever seen Chloe Bourgeois.

“If that will be all mother, Roy and I have to meet up with Damian and Marinette.”

Her mother waved her off. Not a single love you, not even a real goodbye. Roy was sure his face matched his hair by the time they had set foot back into the streets.

“So, Mari’s parent's house isn’t too far from here. Wanna swing over?”

It was as if a switch flipped. Back was the flirty social butterfly that he had gotten to know over the past couple of weeks.

“Chloe.”

“C’mon carrot top, swinging really isn’t a bad way to transport. It’s quick and effective.”

“Chloe.”

“Don’t be a chicke-”

“Chloe.”

He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he knew what she was trying to do.

“Chloe, why do you let her treat you like that?”

Her lips were pressed into a tight line as she turned, taking a step away from the building.

“Chloe, you don’t have to pretend that it didn’t happen. I’m not going to tell anyone, it’s just, the Chloe I saw in there is nothing like the one I’ve come to know.”

“Well, maybe all you know is a lie.”

Her voice was quiet as she took off at a brisk pace down the street. It took Roy a second to process before he took off after her. Gently, he pulled her arm until she came to a stop once more.

“Then let me get to know the real Chloe. After all, I can’t marry someone I don’t know!”

She laughed half-heartedly at his joke, her smile weak.

“She isn’t very good with her emotions and neither am I. I know that she cares, hell, she wouldn’t let me explore this hero side of me if she didn’t think I had potential. But she always puts business first. I never wanted to go into business with her because she can’t separate family and employees. But I need the money. Daddy won’t let me touch my trust fund until I am secure on my own.”

Roy nodded, a number of things falling into place.

“Why don’t you work for Oliver or Bruce like the rest of us?”

Chloe shrugged, her fingers absentmindedly reaching for his.

“They have offered before, but I really feel like the way to her heart is through the family business. I know she wants to leave it to me one day and if I abandon it now, she might reconsider, and honestly, that would hurt her more than me. She’ll never say it to my face, but it would mean the world to me if I could be her legacy.”

A moment of silence passed, and then two as Roy admired the determination that crossed her face. Somehow, it made her more beautiful than she already was. He hadn’t even noticed how close they had gotten until a soft cough snapped him back to reality.

“Well, we only left you for like two hours. Is this a new development?”

Marinette and Damian shared a smirk as Chloe dropped his hand as if it was burning her. She tried to pull up her scarf, but it was too late. The red on her cheeks were burning, matching his he was sure.

“I don’t know what you are referring to Dupain-Cheng. Let’s head back to the tower. A certain blonde must feel my wrath.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As Roy laid in bed that night, his thoughts kept wandering back to that moment.

She was so close, her lips were so close, so full, so red. They were drawing him in and if Marinette hadn’t stopped them..

“Ughh,” he buried his red face into his pillow, willing his pounding heart to still.

He rolled over to where his phone sat, the dark screen bugging him. Not a single text from her after they returned, not even one from Marinette or Damian teasing him. Reaching out, he lifted the phone toward his face.

Clicking on his photos, the most recent one lit up his entire screen, sending his heart into another fury. Chloe had borrowed his phone, leaving several adorable selfies that he only found a couple hours later.

Not that he wanted to admit it to anyone, but maybe he could admit to himself that just maybe, he was already head over heels for Chloe Bourgeois.

Just as he moved to place it back onto his charger, a text message pinged.

‘Still awake carrot top?’

Roy couldn’t help the smile that tore across his face.

‘Depends. Whose asking blondie?’

‘You’re ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Now open your window, my arm is getting tired.’

Instantly, Roy shot up as he opened his window. Looking around, he couldn’t find her. He was ready to close it when his instinct told him to look up. Sure enough, Queen Bee sat dangling, motioning for him to move out her way.

With one great heave, Chloe swung into his room, dropping her transformation before her feet even touched the ground.

“Miss me that much?”

The sound of his own voice was foreign as his wide smile was certain to leave his cheeks sore in the morning.

“Oh don’t get full of yourself Harper. I just wanted to thank you for today.”

“Mhmm, this seems mighty personal for a thank you.” He took a step forward, his stomach flipping multiple times.

“I may have also wanted to see you. After all, no text, no call. How is a girl supposed to feel after you almost kiss her?”

She stepped forward closing the gap between them, the smirk on her face as graceful as ever.

“I could say the same thing about you. Running off to another man after spending a day in the city of love with me?”

Hestitanly, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, basking in the feeling of how soft her skin felt against his palm.

“Harper, I want to be to future Mrs.Queen, so what do you say? The courthouse is still open in Paris, we can go right now.”

Roy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. Gently, he stroked the side of her cheek, admiring her every feature. Leaning forward, he heard her breath hitch in her throat right as their lips were a mere inch apart.

“How about we start with a first date? A real date?”

Chloe’s warm breath tickled his lips as his pounding heart awaited her answer.

“I suppose Mrs. Queen will have to wait, I’ll pick you up, tomorrow Harper. Be ready.”

Just as quickly as he leaned in, she lept back, already calling her transformation. Racing to the window, she looked over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss before slinging away. Hesitantly, he approached the window, watching her retreating figure, his heart still racing a million miles a minute.

It started off a soft chuckle, but it soon grew. With a grand smile, Roy returned to his bed, his thoughts all centered around one blonde. Marriage was sounding less and less like the scary thought he had when he first met her. He wasn’t sure the exact moment that it sounded so good, but he didn’t care.

After all, Chloe Harper-Queen had a nice ring to it.

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb

[thebonggirll]

Chapter 40 - Not Again

Chapter 39

It was time to sleep, but they wanted to celebrate a bit longer and decided to watch a movie together. Y/N walked towards the sofa and noticed everyone huddled together. She noticed Bakugou along with Kirishima, and the rest of his gang talking on the left side. She looked away as her eyes searched for her best friend.

Kyoka was walking towards her holding two tubs of ice-cream. "Here you go," she said and handed her one. She didn't know whether this was a coincidence or not, but the time was perfect to have an ice-cream considering how dull her mood is.

"What did he tell you?"

"Huh?" Y/N noticed Kyoka, who took her hand and dragged her a bit away from the sofa, "Nothing. Just tired."

"Don't lie to me dude. I saw both of you leaving together and now your whole face looks gloomy."

"I guess I was a bit.." she chuckled and said, "...shy when I thought of how he was calling me. The rest of our conversation was pretty bad. He was really straightforward about how he didn't care about me at all."

"He said he didn't care about you?" Kyoka asked, her voice laced with anger, "Fuck this dude. Why do you even like him?!"

"As if I want to, knowing how he is," she muttered, "I try not to but it doesn't really work that way."

"I know. Its just that how is he so ungrateful after you saved his ass? Like wasn't that enough for him to see how much you care about him?"

"I don't know," Y/N sighed and turned around, looking at the blond.

"Don't sit with them today. I get it that you need to look normal but at this point your feelings are more important. I know it's gonna make you uncomfortable. We will sit separately from the rest of them."

Y/N smiled and they sat together far away to the right, which surely got noticed by the rest of the class. She felt embarrassed and self-conscious from their stare. Maybe it would've been better if they sat with the rest. She was about to suggest it when Ochaco walked towards them and sat beside her.

"He said something, didn't he?"

"Well, you know how to pick up the signs huh?" Y/N chuckled.

"God, I don't know what happened but if your mood is that down then he was probably a huge dick to you."

"You have no idea," she sighed, "Enough about him. Let's talk about you darling. You looked really jealous out there you know."

Ochaco blushed and looked away at the television, trying her best to ignore the teasing looks from her friends.

"Come on, what do you plan on doing?" Y/N asked, "I mean, do you want to make a move?"

Ochaco laughed and said, "Honestly...no, I'm not sure. After watching you, I kind of don't want to until I know for sure that he likes me."

"Oh boy, don't let my disastrous one-sided love affect you! I mean, I know Midoriya and I know that he'd probably love to date you."

"...Probably?"

"Look, we don't talk much anymore okay? We kind of drifted apart."

"Oh no...is everything okay?"

"Oh yeah everything's good. We know we have each other's back but we just don't share the same bond anymore. Nothing to worry about."

"I'll tell you what happened. We fucking grew up and now we have our own ambitions to fulfill," Kyoka said, "which is why I'm pretty sure none of us want to date at the moment."

"That's not true-" Y/N said but got interrupted by Kyoka.

"You're telling me if Bakugou came in your way of fulfilling your dream, you won't cut him off your life."

Y/N was quiet for a moment and said, "Well...I won't...cut him off my life."

"But your ambition still comes first, right?"

"Yeah," Ochaco and Y/N replied in unison.

She thought that she can handle having a relationship while focusing on her own career. But the real point is, if her feelings got in the way of achieving her dreams, Y/N knows she will distance herself from the distraction. And it probably applied the rest of the class too. She sighed and concentrated on the delicious ice-cream.

Yeah...maybe it was time to focus on her career now.

She wasn't the kind to cry so easily, but when it finally dawned to her how Bakugou didn't even care a little bit about her concerns, she couldn't control herself. Sure, he was a bit insensitive but she expected him to atleast consider her feelings as a friend. At this point Y/N wasn't even sure if he considered her as a friend.

Y/N rubbed off her tears, her eyes and face looked swollen. She looked at the mirror and her mind drifted to negative thoughts. She wondered why anyone would even like her. I mean, sure she had friends but there isn't really one guy who she's actually really close to now.

She shook her head and slapped her cheeks, knowing these thoughts would only be harmful. And the first things she needed to do from now on is to handle these self-criticism thoughts. Work on it, and get better.

Huh. Easier said than done.

She got up and looked at her empty water bottle. Y/N picked it up and walked out her room. As soon she shut the door, she heard footsteps. It was dark but it wasn't that hard to comprehend who it was, going by their hairstyle. She noticed him groan and stumble a bit.

"What are you doing so late?" she said and flashed the light from her phone on his face and gasped. He had bruises and clearly, somebody beat him up pretty bad.

"Yeah...Bakugou and I had something to talk about," he said squinting his eyes.

"About All Might?" she asked.

"H-How do you know?"

"Well, he talked to me about it after dinner."

"Oh...so that's why.."

"What?"

"N-Nothing. I think you should go see him now-"

"No, he can deal with it himself."

"But-"

She didn't hear what he said next. Y/N walked towards the staircase and stopped by her tracks. For a minute though. She was taken aback by the figure that was walking upstairs. She stepped aside, and started going down but a hand stopped her from moving.

She was now too scared to look at him. Afraid of forgetting what she promised to herself today. Afraid of him...seeing her face right now. The little light that came from the window made it clear who it was ofcourse.

"Where are you going?"

Y/N pulled her hand and started walking downstairs again. No, she wasn't going to respond and act like everything's fine between them.

But then, she couldn't make her legs move from whatever happened. Everything was fine when she went to the kitchen and started to fill up her bottle. Until she felt hands around her waist. Her heartbeat fastened as well as her breathing. She was afraid, her tears could come out anytime now. And she didn't want to look weak in front of him again.

She tried to remove his arm, but it only made him tighten. "I..I did what you said," he said with his voice quivering, "I talked to him."

Y/N decided to be mature. He was vulnerable at the moment and he didn't know what he was doing probably. She sighed and faced him. She noticed his face as badly injured as Midoriya.

"I told you to talk, not kill each other," she said. She got nothing but silence in response and said, "You should take some rest."

He was quiet. Y/N finally looked up at him, at his eyes and a blush covered her face. He...was staring at her.

"You should go-" she got interrupted when she felt his hands slide on her face. He rubbed his fingers under her eyes. Y/N felt like her heart was about to burst any moment now. He brought her face closer to him and closed his eyes.

And she did too. She felt excited but scared at the same time.

Y/N felt his forehead, touch hers and a sigh escape from his lips. She opened her eyes and looked up at him and realized how close they were. Their noses were touching. She noticed his eyes drift from her eyes...to her lips.

Gasping, she pulled away from him and cleared her throat, "Y-you're tired now. You should get some rest. You can't think straight."

Y/N rushed away holding her water bottle and it's cap, without a care about the water spilling. She ran inside her room and locked the door.

No. Not again. It won't mean anything to him. She was determined this time. It was time for her to focus on her career.

Time to move on.

END OF SEASON III

Chapter 41

SEASON - III

SEASON - IV

Ignite

MASTERLIST

Tags:  @honeylemondragonemperor @mikithekiki @kkikiss @garnet-redtailedhero

[noaltbruh]

Bucci gang and Christmas time!

Do I know we're in the middle of Summer? Yes.

Is that going to stop me from writing headcanons about my favourite characters celebrating my favourite Holiday? No.

(Just a side note: most of the headcanons I write take place in an 'Everyone survives universe', keep this particularly in mind while reading this post)

Enjoy! 🎄

Giorno! 🐞

-Giorno has never celebrated Christian once in his entire life. To be honest...He almost feels a sense of spite thinking about this Holiday, because his parents used to neglect him even more during this time of the year. They would spend entire days out, going party with their friends, buying presents for other people, and wouldn't bother in the slightest to decorate the house with a single light

-For a long time, all he could think about when this festivity came into his mind was the dull plate of cold food his parents would leave him to heat in the microwave, but that wasn't nearly as freezing as the feeling of sorrow that filled his heart. He would sit by the window, watching other people having fun together, while he was all alone in that gloomy, small apartment.

-Can you even imagine how he felt when he first celebrated Christmas with the gang?

-He failed to understand why pretty much everyone was so exited, most of them weren't even Christian. He thought he didn't even deserve to participate, not after all the 'morally questionable' things he does as the Don of Passione

-But it didn't take much for the gang to realize how Giorno felt about Christmas, and they were determined to prove him that he had gotten the wrong idea about this Holiday

-When he noticed that he others were trying to drag him in the 'Christmas spirit', he immediately protested, claiming that he had too many errands to attend to

-Needless to say, they didn't buy it

-Eventually, he gave up, accepting to give this festivity a chance, if that would have made them happy. After all, they've been trying so hard to lift his spirit, he would have felt ungrateful rejecting them even now

-He helped with the preparations in any way he could, from decorating the house to buying gifts for everyone.

-What he hadn't realized, is how much effort and care he was putting in everything he was doing. It wasn't something he agreed to solely to please them, he was genuinely enjoying it, he wanted to be a part of this, even though he failed to fully understand it.

-His favourite part was filling the house and the back garden with lights and any other sort of decorations: candles, wreaths, festoons, music boxes, or just other ornaments in general

-When the 25th of December finally arrived, Giorno was ecstatic. Seeing his entire family having so much fun together, opening presents, admiring the lights, watching cheesy Christmas movies while wrapped up in warm blankets, it felt so...Simple, but so reassuring, he couldn't even put into words how he felt

-His favourite present was a huge encyclopedia about nature. He always reads it before going to bed, it helps him fall asleep faster and more peacefully

-Like I mentioned in my previous post, I think Giorno really likes anything that tastes even slightly sweet, so he absolutely adores Christmas treats! Pandori, panettoni, tronchetti, hot chocolate...He loves all of them!

-He can't deny that he felt really bad when they had to take off all the decorations, and while he wouldn't openly say it, he wishes for Christmas to come back again as soon as possible

Bruno! 🤐

-Bruno is the second most exited in the gang for Christmas! (Can you already tell who's the first? :) ) He's the only one, however, that cares about the religious aspect of it, which is particularly important in a country like Italy.

-It's his favourite Holiday, and it was considered the most important festivity in his family, since all of his relatives were Christians. Besides, he had always been personally attached to it, as it was one of the very few times where he could see his mom, which used to spoil him in whatever way she could

-He goes to Church either very early on Christmas Morning, while everyone is still asleep, or at exactly midnight between the 24th and the 25th. Most of the people that go at times like these are old grannies, but Bruno doesn't care, he thinks it's cute actually ^^

-As he was raised in a relatively humble environment, having the chance to celebrate Christmas in quite the...Extravagant way, after joining Passione, almost felt out of place for him

-That doesn't mean, however, that he doesn't care about the 'materialistic' part of the Festivity, because he sees it as a way to rest his head for a while and spend some quality time with the ones he cares about

-His role as the mom of the group is also remarkably present during the preparations. Bruno is the one that mostly takes care of cooking for everyone, and he enjoys it a lot! His favourite part is preparing sweets of any kind, because they allow him to experiment a lot and always try new recipes

-Every member of the gang has to participate in one way or another to the preparations, and Bruno is the one that coordinates the whole thing

-Bucciarati always gets everyone the best presents. He starts thinking about what to get for them a month before the others, so that he never finds himself in a rush and can take all the time he needs to find the perfect gift

-He also LOVES making and receiving hand-made presents, he can feel all the effort and love that was put into them, and it just feels more thoughtful than something that was bought, no matter how expensive it may have been

-Bruno is that sort of person that prefers to spend Christmas without doing anything particularly exciting, just enjoying the calm and warm atmosphere that fills the house

-However, Bucciarati also loves to go for a long walk down the streets, admiring the lights all around the town, bringing along anyone in the gang that wishes to join him

Mista! 🔫

-While the manga states that Mista believes in a 'God', I don't think he believes in Jesus, Holy Mary, and the rest. He used to go to Church when he was little, but mostly because his parents forced him to, he didn't actually care

-Because of this, he sees Christmas as a materialistic Festivity, but that doesn't mean he's not excited for it. He thinks that it's the perfect excuse for everyone to just chill for a little while and have fun

-Unlike Bruno and Giorno, who prefer to just relax at home without doing anything that requires a lot of energy, Mista is always looking forward to something exiting to do during this time of the year

-Do you want an example? Ice skating! This boy is incredibly good at skating, and he constantly flexes on the entire gang how good he is

-He's that type of person that forgets to buy presents for the gang, and only remembers at the last minute. He's lost count of how many times he had to fight with another costumer because they wanted to buy the same thing, and there was only one left

-Once, a dude was so insistent that he had to pull out his gun to scare him away. Guess what? It worked. Nobody in that shop ever dared to argue with him again

-"Get your damn hands off this videogame, I have a seventeen years old little brother that won't talk to me for two weeks if I don't buy this for him!"

-Aside from getting gifts for Narancia, Trish and the rest, he also gives something to each one of the sex pistols. It's mostly food, but they don't really seem to mind

-Even in this time of the year, Mista is still hot. While everyone is wearing sweaters, long trousers and coats, this madman is still wearing shorts. Trish constantly complains about it, saying that he's going to catch a bad cold, if not worse, if he keeps on dressing like this. He never actually listens to her though

-Like I mentioned early, everyone in the gang has to take care of the preparations in different ways. Mista, together with Fugo, has to buy all the ingredients Bruno needs. It may seem like an easy task, but it isn't; friendly reminder that they have to buy enough stuff for seven people, most of them with very different tastes

-He often gets fed up with waiting in line, and just takes everything he needs and leave without paying. Nobody has the courage to complain, they know better than messing around with a guy like that

-He will most likely steal some of Abbacchio's wine and get drunk. He usually doesn't like alcohol very much, but damn does Abba have good taste in wines

Narancia! 🍊

-You won't find anyone that loves Christmas more than this cute little bundle of sunshine!

-His mother always loved Christmas, and wanted her child to appreciate this Festivity as much as her. Since his parents weren't particularly rich, he always celebrated in a relatively simple way, but his mamma always managed to find a way to make every Christmas different and unique. His father never complained about Mela's excitement, but he barely ever participated in whatever the two of them were organizing. Still, Nari didn't mind, the woman's excitement and joy were successfully passed to her kid

-After she died, for a couple of years, he stopped celebrating Christmas. Not because he didn't want to, he just...Couldn't. His father and him were strangers at this point, and his 'friends' didn't care about it either, they actually thought that it was a stupid thing

-When he finally had the chance to celebrate again after joining Passione, Narancia swore that he wouldn't have let anything, and I say ANYTHING, stop him from enjoying every moment of this Holiday ever again

-Since there are a couple of 'Grinches' in the house, Narancia thinks it's his duty to cheer everyone up, showing them why he loves Christmas so much

-"Nobody's gonna be left out, nope, not on my watch! We're all gonna have a great time, whether you want it or not!"

-Nari already starts to get exited for this Festivity in the moment November arrives, there's nothing he looks forward to more, not even his birthday

-When Bruno finally mentions that it's time to start organizing everything, Narancia jumps from his seat, and it's one of the very few occasions where he listens carefully without spacing out

-Just like Giorno, this baby boy loves decorating the house, they make an awesome team together!

-"Giorno! Look look look...You gotta see this!" "What is it, Narancia?" "THIS SNOW GLOBE! ISN'T IT JUST SOOOOOOOO CUTE?" -"Hehe...I suppose so"

-You may think that, similar to Mista, he forgets to buy presents, but that's not the case! Narancia wants to surprise the entire gang with his awesome gifts, and when they think he can't find anything better...Boom! He slaps an even more amazing present in their faces (not literally, of course)

-Even though he can't cook, he's more than willing to help Bruno with decorating the sweets, filling them with frosting, cream, small fruits, chocolate chips...Anything Bucciarati says he can use, really

-He also loves to go admiring the lights with the latter, always pointing out everything he sees

-"GAAAAASP...AN ENTIRE TREE MADE OF LIGHTS? AM I DREAMING?" "I'd say it's real, would you like to take a picture next to it?" "Yes, please!"

-Every year he wishes for the city to finally be covered in snow, but sadly, when you live in a hot country like Italy, that's most likely going to remain a fantasy

-He really likes wearing those oversized, horrible Christmas-themed sweaters, and genuinely thinks they're cute. He hopes for someone to wear them with him, but nobody ever seems to accept

-He tried convincing Fugo once, it uhm...Didn't go too well. But one of these years, he's going to get Giorno to wear one, he's sure of it!

-Nari still believes in Santa, and Bruno will personally ari the crap out of anyone who dares to tell him that he's not real. He leaves some cookies and milk in front of the tree in the living room, saying that he's going to stay awake the entire night to finally see him. He always ends up falling asleep...So one of the members of the gang has to carry him over to bed

-During Christmas lunch, he will 100% sure overeat, to the point where he can barely stand up from the chair, but still denying verything and acting like his stomach isn't about to explode

Fugo! 🍓

-Similar to Giorno, Fugo doesn't have any particular happy memories of Christmas from his childhood

-His entire family used to reunite to celebrate together. At first sight, it seemed like nothing was wrong: everyone was having fun with their loved ones, but for Fugo...It just felt so fake

-He knew that in the moment his relatives left, his parents would have gone back to their strict and distant behavior. Even during this time of the year, they still pressured him, just in a softer way. They wouldn't let him rest until he finished all the homework his teachers gave for Christmas Holidays, they wouldn't let him play with his other cousins, saying that he was too mature, and the list went on

-The only thing that comforted him was his grandmother, whom the rest of the family only invited for pity. She was the only one that would actually give Fugo something a child would genuinely like, like a puzzle or a plushie

-He was the first member to join Bucciarati's squad, so I'm guessing that they must have spent one Christmas together, just the two of them

-At first, the blonde tried to convince Bruno to just leave him alone, inviting him to celebrate with his relatives, saying that he would have been okay on his own

-Obviously, a good mom would never leave his child, so he declined his propose. For some reason...The man's behavior reminded Fugo a lot of his grandmother, and that was the first Christmas this Strawberry boy cherished in his heart

-While they mostly kept it to something simple, when the others arrived things started to get more and more loud, especially with Narancia

-Even though he would rather just spend the day relaxing at home with something warm to drink, he always ends up being dragged into whatever Nari and Mista are planning on doing. He fell like...10 times when they went ice skating together

-Fugo still acts kinda moody towards this time of the year, as his pride is too high for him to admit that he likes something so 'sentimental'

-He's also super done with having to go shopping with Mista to buy groceries, but he has to help in one way or another

-"Alright...Mista, Fugo, you two will buy all the ingredients I'm going to need"

"Urgh...It's cold outside, and I don't want to wait in line...Do I really have to?"

"Oh? Would you rather setting up the decorations with Giorno and Narancia?"

Cut to Nari already covered in lights while giggling like a kid

"...Just give me the list already"

"Wow, rude"

-Speaking of which, Fugo's immune system is not uhm...The best, and this means that he's always super scared of catching a cold in this period. While he doesn't show it, it'd pain him a lot to ruin everyone else's fun with his sickness

-He constantly wears super heavy clothes, even when they're at home, with all the windows closed and the wood burning in the fire place

-He always looks like a potato sack in the photos, but that doesn't really bother him a lot

-He isn't very good when it comes to making presents. He tries, and remembers to buy them on time, but he's not a particularly creative boy. He's that kind of person that would mostly just buy clothes or relatively 'simple' things, not that I can really blame him...That's pretty much all he received when he was a child

Abbacchio! ⏮️

-Oh boy...OH BOY! The Grinch himself, the Christmas hunter, the gloomy Lord in person

-I like to think that Abbacchio was one of the very few very people in the gang that actually grew up with a loving family, so he was more than happy to celebrate Christmas when he was a child

-One year, his parents gave him a police officer hat as a present, and he refused to take it off for days, even though it was obviously too big for him

-This means that unlike Giorno and Fugo, whose reason for disliking Christmas goes back to this childhood, his hate towards it is much more recent and somewhat less 'justified'

-After the loss of his colleague, he became apathetic to almost everything around him, and this Holiday was not spared. It was quite the opposite, to be honest

-He can't stand the whole cheerful and happy atmosphere, he thinks it's suffocating and makes him sick. Plus, "having a bunch of brats jumping up and down, singing lame carols and decorating the house like it's some birthday party" doesn't help

-Despite Narancia's efforts, the only one who can really get him out of this mood (pun intended) is Bucciarati

-"Just stop it already, Bruno. Go have fun with the children, how many times do I have to tell you that I don't care about any of this?"

-"And how many times do I have to tell you that you're not going to get rid of me that easily?"

-"...Whatever"

-Honestly, what he likes the most about this festivity is that he has an excuse for getting drunk af without anyone complaining. He takes the fanciest and most expensive bottle of wine he has and drinks all of it in less than 10 minutes

-The gang even bets money on how long it's going to take him to finish the whole thing, either Mista or Narancia usually win, since the others tend to underestimate Abbacchio's alcoholic "abilities"

-He puts minimal effort, mostly just because he's forced to, in buying presents for the squad. He's also super biased and obviously plays favourites, even though he would never admit it

-He'd buy something super special for Bruno, try a bit harder to pick up something for Narancia and Trish and take the first thing he sees for Fugo and Mista. As for Giorno...He literally just buys some coal, writes 'Buon Natale' on a piece of paper and slaps it on the carbon

-He has a relatively simple job regarding the preparations for Holiday time, which is...

-"Very well, Abbacchio...You have to pick up the tree from the basement and bring it to the living room"

"Why me? That thing is so fu***ng heavy"

"Exactly, do you want somebody else to lift it up and break their spine? I'd rather not spend Christmas night at the hospital"

-"Sigh...Alright, just because YOU ask"

-Slowly, but surely, he's learning to love Christmas again, though he will still keep on acting grumpy and complain every time he has the chance to

Trish! 🎙

-This girl is ready to brighten up all the festivities! When it's time to have fun, Trish doesn't hesitate even for a moment!

-Similar to Narancia and Bruno, her mother couldn't afford anything super expensive or exciting during this time of the year (taking care of a child on your own is no easy job), but Trish never dared to complain. She was aware of the sacrifices her mother was making to make sure that her child had everything she needed, she wouldn't have thrown a tantrum for something superficial

-Donatella would always give her a new doll as a present, and she would play with it for entire hours without getting tired. Her favourite one was, of course, a blonde doll dressed up as a pop star

-Just like her daughter, she was extraordinarily good when it came to choosing what to wear, which means that when Trish entered her 'teen phase', the woman would gift her a dress instead. Needless to say, the girl loved it every time!

-Speaking of which, after becoming part of the gang, her favourite "Christmas activity", if it counts, was going shopping! I mean...Do you think a person like her would miss out on the Sales? Please

-She doesn't like going on his own though, and brings along somebody with her. That 'somebody's ends up being Mista most of the times, which is literally just DRAGGED out of his room to the shopping centre

-Trish is that sort of person (I mean...I don't know if that's a thing in other countries, but it's pretty much a meme here in Italy) who insists that she's on a diet even during the Holiday season, but every single time someone offers something to eat, she replies with "Whatever, I'll just start next week" or "I'll start after New Year".

-Before she knows, it's the 8th of January and she hasn't been on a diet even for a day.

-One day, she'd like to travel around the world and see how they celebrate this Festivity in other countries. As you can already tell, she valued the materialistic part of Christmas than the 'spiritual' one, and she knows that in a lot of places it isn't considered a religious Holiday in the first place

-One thing she dislikes is how she's forced to wear super heavy and long clothes, she hates them and insists that they make her look fat (which is absolutely not true)

-She LOVES taking pictures of everything! Food? Yes. Decorations? Yes. Gifts? Yes. Just photos in general where the seven of them are together? Y E S!

-Some of them try to run away when they realize that Trish is about to start a freaking photoshoot, but their struggles are always vain, especially since she has Bruno's support

-"Come oooooon, just one last picture!" "Trish, for the love of God, the lasagna is getting cold" "So what? Microwaves exist for a reason" "We are NOT going to ruin all this food by putting it in the Microwave!"

-Being the singer of the group, she takes any opportunity she has to sing a Christmas-themed song, both Carols and modern/pop songs like 'All I want for Christmas'. Half of the times she doesn't even understand the lyrics, but that's not going to stop her for sure

-She definitely doesn't forget to buy presents for the others. After she goes shopping so much, how could she? Most people think it's lame to receive a clothes as a present, but we're taking about Trish here!

-She knows very well how every member likes to dress, and she surely doesn't have problems with her budget. She will pick something for each one of her companions even better than what they would take for themselves

-Lastly, her 'task' is to decorate the tree, which is one of the longest assignments that also require a lot of attention and precision. Why, you may ask? Because that thing is freaking huge, that's why. Giorno and Narancia will probably help her out once they're done with their own decorations, the three of them have a lot of fun together!

[hoodedwing]

Babybird, please?

Summary: Jason returns to Gotham after a year-long sabbatical at his Arkansas safehouse. Nothing has changed in Gotham, but he probably did.  Dick realizes and puts the pieces together to make a horrible discovery.

Characters: Red Hood, Nightwing. Roy Harper (brief mentions). Cheshire (brief mentions), Lian Harper(brief mentions)

Warnings: Drinking. Injury flashbacks (we’re looking at an event gone too far). Anger issues. Also, swearing but from the last dude you’d expect.

Additional Notes: Jason deserves a happy Christmas and yep, I wrote this after Christmas so sue me. Also this seemed a little choppy to me

Word Count: 1,306 words

***

Christmas had long gone by and left trees still adorned with tinsel and other décor. It was supposed to keep people in a cheery mood, keep away the post-Christmas blues and amp Gothamites for New Year in an otherwise gloomy town.

It didn’t do the trick for Jason. With his hands shoved in his leather jacket, he kept his head low and speed fast, nimbly dodging excited throngs exchanging the occasional cheers and here’s to a happy new year, folks. Snow crunched under his boots as he rounded the corner to a bar.

Quietly, he sat down and warmed down a bit. A bartender amicably approached Jason who mumbled.

“Whisky, make it extra strong.”

Nodding, the bartender left. Jason drew himself closer, making his presence as small in possible. His eyes kept shifting to not spot a certain Dark Knight or at least (for small mercies) Bruce Wayne as another civilian. A rich and seemingly happy civilian who was often seen ruffling his sons’ hair and chatting away. 

The last time Jason saw Bruce, there wasn’t a happy civilian, no stroking of hair.

There was a batarang at his neck.

Jason absentmindedly rubs the faint scar as the bartender placed the alcohol in front of him. He pushes spare change with his other gloved palm and nods imperceptibly. He takes a small sip, lets the whisky warm him up internally and space out awhile.

He wasn’t supposed to be in Gotham but Jason was a rebel. A rebel since childhood. It’s probably the rebellion that kept him alive in Crime Alley’s dark and unlit paths. Paths even Batman would be scared shitless to enter himself, even when armed with his fancy toys up to the teeth.

He suppresses what he believed was probably anger or a by-product because man, today the whisky was definitely strong. He felt a little light-headed at the kick of it but it was good, it distracted him from the fact he returned to Gotham from Arkansas for Christmas.

He never celebrated Christmas outside Gotham. It seemed strange to suddenly break the tradition. Some things shouldn’t change, it probably does alter a person entirely. With the whole shitshow of a showdown on the rooftop with Batman, he probably didn’t want to go even remotely close to them. 

Nope, not even touching five streets near them

He finished the rest of his drink before his thought loop threatened to swallow him whole with old memories. Trudging outside the snow, he thought about calling Roy.

Maybe check in with him?  

See how Cheshire and Lian were? 

He hoped Lian didn’t mind too much about his absence on her fourth birthday that year. She was a sweet girl in such a cruel world, Jason could only hope she would still retain that sweetness under such a caring dad.

Dad

God, Jason really hated that word. Reminded him of Willis but Bruce wasn’t that much of a dad to him either. The word tasted acrid on his tongue, almost unnatural, like it didn’t belong there.

Is it bad he sometimes longed for dad?

Somebody suddenly knocks into him, pretty hard by the shoulder and distracts Jason from his second thought loop of the day. Bags spill everywhere and Jason isn’t sure where the pavement is anymore from under all the obnoxiously wrapped gifts and overly expensive-looking bags.

‘“Sorry! I’m in such a hurry. I missed Christmas with my family. Kinda sucks actually”

“No bother.”

Jason rasped a little, voice unrecognizable as he bent down to help pick up the scattered mess. He quickly shoves the gifts into each bag till some names caught his eye.

For Damian. 

For Tim

For Bruce

Jason’s heart stops.

He doesn’t have to look at the rest of the gifts to know who it was for.

“Hey, is everything alright?”

A hand outstretches towards Jason who takes it and held with more force than necessary. He heard the man let out a small ouch.

“Thanks man. Hey, if its too much, can I drop you anywhere? It’s really cold out here today. My car is a street down, we can stop by for donuts and hot coffee?”

Jason momentarily looks up and the man lets out a gasp.

“J.Jason?”

He looks the other direction, angry that he’s betrayed himself to look up to the voice because he knows its Dick and older brothers would keep younger ones safe.

Why does he have to gravitate again? Fall for the same trick? Didn’t Bruce, dad, Batman make it clear?

“What?”

“Offer for donuts and coffee still stands. Come.”

-

Jason finds himself at Dunkin’ Donuts with Dick.

He wouldn’t be here, surrounded by warm coffee and sugar-glazed creations as Dick smiled at him. Jason knows that smile is stretched thin, probably filled with questions 

Where were you on Christmas?

I couldn’t look for you, did you hide somewhere?

We miss you, aren’t we brothers?

He is prepared for all of them till Dick asks the one thing that strikes an arrow.

“Your neck, babybird. Who did that?”

Jason cannot answer, He contemplates lying for a while, testing the silence till he realizes that right now Dick could kick him back out into the lung-freezing cold.

He wouldn’t do that.

Bruce almost killed you. He did that.

“Jay?”

He registers someone’s hand on his shoulder. Jason licks his lips, tests the words. He knew the implications of telling Golden Boy right here and now that Bruce could’ve murdered him though somehow he ended up voiceless for some months instead.

“Bruce.”

Dick’s smile drops from a million kilowatts to one of anger.

“Asshole.”

Jason’s ears pricked up, when did he even pick up swearing?

“Wa-”

Dick held up a finger, commanding Jason into silence and thought through it. His eyebrows further knit in realization when he thought more about it. It seemed to add up.

Bruce returning home, untouched. A brief intercepted transmission of Roy that he’s taking Jason to Arkansas because he frankly looked like he went head-to-toe with Deathstroke. Jason not returning for awhile.

“You didn’t fight back.”

Tears form in Dick’s eyes. The words didn’t sound right to him. The Red Hood not laying even a bruise on Batman?

“You let him hit you!”

Dick cried out, slamming his fists against the table. A few patrons turn briefly to the scene before refocusing back on their own conversations.

Jason turned his head down, of all the people that would come in defense for him, it was Dickie Bird. 

“Jay, he could’ve killed you.”

Again.

“Dick-”

“Don’t Dick me! Where are you staying right now?”

Jason doesn’t bother coming up with a lie anymore.

“Arkansas still.”

Dick considers awhile.

“I can get you a place in Bludhaven. Shift in with me for now while I deal with the bastard.”

“But Bruce-”

Dick angrily turns to Jason.

“You of last people should be giving fucks about what Bruce says or does.”

He almost laughs at the sheer fucking irony of it right now till Dick squeezes Jason’s hand gently and he knows Dick actually means it.

He has a chance at actually living instead of hiding and being on the run for the rest of his life.

“Sure. If that’s okay with-”

“It’s always okay, Jay. Please tell me if things like these happen again. Bruce cannot get away like that. Beating the shit out of you and then prancing away. Jay, I’m so sorry.”

Dick buries his face into his palms and Jason sits there, twisting his hands together.

Till he gathers enough courage to calmly place a hand on Dick’s shoulder.

“Hey? We still have to finish these donuts and I can’t do it alone.”

Dick turns up, eyes red but cheekily smiling back as they devour the donuts on a cold, snowy day.

Except this time, Jason feels warmer than ever.

[karajaynetoday]

and I can't stop that long forgotten feeling of her | ashton irwin

Here we go again with the emo angst! Thanks so much to everyone who has shared and sent feedback on the other parts. You can read part one here and part two here, and also part four here once you’ve finished with this bit. 

Part three is inspired by Flame Trees (originally by Australian band Cold Chisel in 1984, but I would absolutely recommend listening to the cover by Sarah Blasko which I had on repeat while working on this piece). All of the italics in this piece are lyrics from the song. 

More writing here | send feedback/thoughts/suggestions here

Trigger warning for mentions of death of a family member (non-graphic), a funeral and cremation.

Word count: 2.3k words

(This is a fem reader insert)

Kids out driving Saturday afternoon just pass me by | And I'm just savouring familiar sights

The drive to the church is quiet. Ashton insisted on driving you and your siblings, and despite your protests, he’d gotten his way. You were daydreaming out the window, pondering how everyone else in the world was just getting on with their lives when yours still felt so dark and painful. You’d spent your whole life driving and wandering these streets, and the houses and the trees and the footpaths felt like home. But then again, you’d never lived anywhere else, so where else would you feel like you belonged? 

You glanced over at Ash, who has one hand on the wheel. Does he feel at home here, you wonder? Does his heart feel settled when he drives in from the airport? Does he breathe in the air and breathe out his stress? Does he think of this place often? When he thinks of home, does he think of you? 

You catch yourself staring at Ashton, admiring how he runs one hand through his curls, and quickly returned to staring out your own window and continue your daydream. You’re rehearsing your eulogy in your head, when you feel a gentle hand brush over your own, and Ash slips his fingers between yours over the car’s centre console and gives your hand a squeeze. He’s got that soft smile on his face that you know for a fact can light up a whole room, but there’s a solemness about him today. The smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes; and you notice the dark circles on his face for the first time. Had you been so lost in yourself that you hadn’t seen how everything was bearing down on everyone around you? But then again, that was just it: everything was bearing down and you couldn’t see how it would stop deepening the gloominess you felt in your soul.  

We share some history, this town and I | And I can't stop that long forgotten feeling of her

Even though you’d rehearsed it in your head and in front of the mirror, stepping up to the podium and staring out at the faces everyone who was gathered to honour your mother’s memory made a lump rise in your throat and tears prick in your eyes. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply, and grasped the hands of your siblings who stood by your side. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Ashton, staring back at you with a sympathetic look. He nodded at you, mouthing words of encouragement, and with that you were able to begin.

How sad it was, that she’d been taken so soon. How incredible it was, that she’d raised three children on her own, and always made birthdays and Christmases so special. How funny it was, that she always joked about her funeral being on the warmest winter day. How proud you were, to be her daughter and carry on her memory and her name. 

How sad it was, but how glad you were. To be in this room, and in this town, with so many people that loved her and loved your family like their own. To be able to talk together and laugh together and just remember. 

Oh the flame trees will blind the weary driver | And there's nothing else could set fire to this town

Ashton drove you home again in the gentle silence you’d had on the way there. Your siblings had opted to stay at friends’ houses for the night, wanting a change of scenery and some company to make them feel a bit normal again. You couldn’t blame them; every part of your house reminded you of her. From the cushions on the couch that she’d embroidered, or her favourite mug she always used for her morning cup of coffee, or the little succulents she’d planted in pots and scattered on every windowsill that got full sun at some point during the day. She was everywhere, and it should’ve been comforting, but all you wanted to do was pack it all away and not think about it because surely you couldn’t keep feeling this sad. Not forever.

When Ashton pulled into the driveway, you hesitated before unbuckling your seatbelt.

“Can you.. Do you want to come in? For a cuppa?” You mumbled, not quite meeting Ashton’s eyes, as you leaned forward to grab your bag from the floor of the passenger seat.

“Of course, love. I’m in no rush.”

You busied yourself in the kitchen, filling the kettle and finding two mugs and mulling over your extensive tea bag selection before settling on a chamomile for yourself and a green tea for Ashton, because he’d been telling you about how his yoga instructor back in Los Angeles ensured they all drank a cup of it after each class. You could hear Ash shuffling around in the lounge room, and when you came in with the two cups of tea in your hands, you found him flipping through the stack of vinyl records your mother kept on a bookshelf. 

You settled down onto the couch, resting Ashton’s mug on the coffee table and taking a long sip of your own brew. You chuckled softly, as you noticed his eyes lighting up in excitement as he examined each new vinyl in the stack.

“Dude, have you looked at these?! Alanis Morrissette, Pink Floyd, Soundgarden?! Your mum had fuckin’ sick taste.” Ashton mused happily, reaching over to grasp his cup of tea and raise it to you in a gesture of thanks. 

“Oh, I know. And she knew it, too… keep going, you might find some more things of interest in that pile.” You said softly, a sad smile etched on your face. Eventually, Ash found his own band’s album on vinyl in the stack and he looked up at you, surprised.

“What? As if she wouldn’t add you to the collection. She was so excited when she found out you were releasing things on vinyl.” 

Ash carefully placed all the records back onto the shelf, and sat down next to you on the couch. He stretched out his arm above your shoulders, and you instinctively leaned into his warmth. 

“I know, I always thought of her when we talked about pressing vinyl for the albums, but I just… seeing it in the living room, where we used to blast Cold Chisel and INXS and Silverchair and dance around like idiots til she’d yell it us to go to bed, makes it feel like that was a million years ago, you know?” 

“That’s because it was, Ash. When you’re only 26, ten years ago does feel like a million.” You said quietly, fiddling with the cup in your hands. “You should pick out your favourite records and take them back home with you. She’d like that.”

You can feel Ashton’s gaze on you, and you turn your head to look him in the eye. He looks perplexed. 

“What? Where are you in that great, complicated, genius mind of yours?” You asked, prodding him in the side. He grabs your hand, and kisses it softly. “You said I should take them back home with me. But… I feel at home right now, with you.” Ash whispered, like he was almost afraid of his own words. You felt your heart start to beat faster, and you squeeze his hand tightly. 

“Then stay. At least… stay for tonight. Stay home with me.” You whispered back, and then suddenly Ashton’s lips are on yours and it’s much more heated than a few nights ago out on the couch in Neverland, and you can almost feel the desperate sense of hopelessness in Ashton’s embrace. You let yourself get lost in the warmth and the pleasure and the feeling because it’s the first thing you’ve felt other than sadness and despair in months before you realise that you’re basically straddling Ashton and tugging on his shirt and then suddenly you catch yourself and pull away.

“I’m sorry, I can’t - I can’t do this.” You stutter out, feeling the panic rising in your chest. Almost like he can feel it, Ashton reaches out and runs his arms up and down your sides reassuringly. 

“It’s okay, love. You’re fine. I shouldn’t have done that, I just got a bit caught up. Being here, with you, with the vinyls, after everything… I just need you to know that I lo-”

“NO.” You almost bark, pushing yourself up off the couch and stalking down the hall towards your bedroom.

“Wait, you can’t just -” Ashton began, rushing to catch up with you.

“What, Ashton?! I can’t WHAT?!” You spat, spinning on your heel to face him. “I can’t walk away after you tell me you love me? After you promise me that you won’t leave me? After you tell me I feel like home?!” You wanted to sound harsh and cold, but your voice broke on the last few words. 

You felt your knees buckle underneath you, and you slid down your bedroom door as the angry tears began to fall. Ashton sat quietly beside you, and you could tell he was hesitant to say anything for fear of upsetting you more.

“It’s not fair. You know it’s not.” You sniffled, wiping your face on your sleeve. 

“I know. I never wanted this to happen. Not to us.” Ashton spoke, his voice laced with sadness.

“Can you just… stay, just for tonight? And then in the morning we can be adults and talk about our issues and sort out our lives. I don’t want to guilt-trip you, buuuut my mother DID just die so it’d be bloody wonderful if my best friend could lend me his body heat and maybe whisper some reassuring phrases to me while I sleep.” You tried to lighten the mood, feeling your sadness and anger start to dissipate as Ashton laughed. Honestly, that laugh. What you would do to hear it every day. 

“Of course I can, sunshine. Lead the way.” Ash stood and pulled you to your feet, and you opened your bedroom door and lead him inside. You were both quiet, as you undressed for bed, and still quiet as you pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. But then again, with Ash, you didn’t always need words. You just needed each other. 

Ashton’s arm found your waist and pulled your body into his gently, as he snuggled into your shoulder. You felt your eyes start to droop, and your breathing start to even out in sync with Ashton’s, and you fell into one of the deepest sleeps you’d had in years. 

And I'm happy just to sit here a table with old friends | And see which one of us can tell the biggest lies

The next few days, you began and ended your days like that: peaceful and calm in Ashton’s arms. You’d heard him on the phone early one morning, arguing with someone about rescheduling something-or-other, and you knew that he’d have to leave you soon. But somehow, despite all of the sadness of the past few weeks, you felt better about letting him go than you had all those years ago. Something in the air had changed, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but you just knew that things would be okay.

On Thursday, the funeral home called to say that your mother’s ashes were ready for collection. You managed to drive there yourself without any issues, and it seemed very strange that one of your favourite people were now reduced to small particles in a fancy silver jar-looking-thing, but you collected them nonetheless.

Your mother had grown up about an hour away from where you lived now, and after her diagnosis she talked to you about wanting her ashes scattered in a field in the mountains, so her mortal and immortal souls could join and be at peace in the place where she began her life all those years ago. So the next morning, after a short breakfast, you and your siblings drove up into the Blue Mountains, searching for the perfect place to commemorate the woman you all loved so much. Ashton and his family joined you, driving in convoy, and when you parked up alongside a grassy field where you could see a trickling creek and the sunlight peeking through the old, tall trees, they followed suit and joined you at the fence line on the side of the road. 

One by one, your siblings took turns scattering the ashes, before handing the silver urn to you for the last part. You closed your eyes, and tipped out the urn, whispering under your breath like she was there to hear you. And in that moment, you felt like she was. Because the wind seemed to still, and the sun broke through the clouds, and you were there with those who knew and loved her the most, so of course she would be there too. 

And that’s when you knew, that no matter if you stayed in the house with her cushions and her plants and her vinyl records, or if you followed your heart to the other side of the world, that she’d always be with you. Because she was in your heart, and home is where the heart is. 

There's no change, there's no pace | Everything within its place | Just makes it harder to believe that she won't be around

More writing here | send feedback/thoughts/suggestions here