#(all this and he's STILL clueless to the truth. My boy is an IDIOT)

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

TOW they're both clueless

Steve struck out again, and he's not sure where he went wrong. He was leaning against Eddie's kitchen counter, frowning.

"Oh, man, did you tell her about the six kids thing?" Eddie asked from where he was sitting on the counter.

"Yeah, I mean, I told her I wanted to adopt and that I would happily be a stay at home dad," Steve said.

"Maybe they think it's a line. It's probably hard to believe that a guy actually wants to do that. I mean, I would happily do it too," Eddie said.

"I don't think she liked the hand grazing the thigh thing," Steve pouted.

"What? She's crazy. I loved it when you showed it to me," Eddie said. "Maybe you got nervous and did it wrong that time? Show it to me again, big boy."

Steve sighed and stepped in between his open legs. He took his hand and ran it gently up Eddie's thigh. Eddie sighed and bit his lip.

"Well?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, she's crazy. That was good. If I was a girl, I'd totally be into it," he replied. "Maybe you're a terrible kisser."

"What? No! Every girl I've ever kissed always told me that I was a really good kisser," he said defensively.

"Maybe it's because they think you're so handsome that they just don't have the heart to tell you that you're bad," Eddie said.

"Well, then how the hell am I supposed to find out?" Steve asked.

"Kiss a friend who you know is going to tell you the truth," Eddie said.

"I don't think Robin is going to want to help me with that, and I'm not sure I'd want her to," Steve said, scrunching up his nose.

"Kiss me, man, like you did with the hand on my thigh," Eddie said. "I'll be brutally honest."

Steve nodded and moved closer to him. Steve cupped his cheek and pressed his lips softly to Eddie's. It was gentle at first until he slowly sped it up, moving his lips against Eddie's as Eddie started to do the same thing. It was weird. He didn't need to imagine Eddie as a girl. All he was thinking about was Eddie and his tongue slipping into his own mouth. Eddie deepened the kiss for a moment before breaking away, breathing heavily.

"Okay, yeah, no. That was fucking good. If I were a girl. . .," Eddie said.

"Yeah, right, if you were a girl," Steve said, blushing.

They stared at each other for a moment, not saying anything.

"What are you like when you fuck?" Eddie asked.

"Eddie!"

"What? You have to know, right?"

Several sweaty naked moments later. . .

"Okay, so it's not that," Eddie said as he stared at his ceiling. "If I was a girl. . ."

"Do not! We just had sex, Eddie!" Steve exclaimed.

"Right!" Eddie blushed.

Steve sighed and rolled out of bed. He pulled on his boxers and one of Eddie's shirts.

"After I sleep with someone, I usually make us some food like breakfast, lunch, or dinner. It's dinner time, what do you want?" Steve asked.

"Jesus, how are these girls still rejecting you?" Eddie asked, rolling out of bed and pulling on his own boxers. "You're the perfect man!"

"I don't know, maybe it's because I talk too much about the kids or about Robin or. . . Oh," Steve said softly.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"It's because I talk too much about you," Steve said.

Eddie stared at him for him for a moment before laughing. He hopped over to Steve and pulled him in for a seering kiss.

"We're both idiots," Eddie said.

"Yeah," Steve agreed with a crooked smile.

"You should know, though, that we both can't be stay at home dads. Someone is going to have to work," Eddie said.

Steve laughed and kissed him so hard they fell back onto the bed.

"You owe me a date, Harrington."

[bleedingcoffee42]

angry love confessions, "why are you so clueless?"

Perhaps the argument had started somewhere mid-air over Germany, as Nix helplessly watched his plane explode from the relative safety of his chute. At least he had a chance, at least he was out of the plane.

He asked himself what the hell he was doing here? And, to reinforce that question, he had been hustled away as soon as the battle was over when the word was trickling back that a large percentage of the newer C-46s had blown up. It was time to get rid of the observer from the 101st, which was fine by him.

Now he was back home. Barely listening to Dick as he uncomfortably kept to the edges of the room and asked questions that were more reminiscent of what he'd expect from his wife. 'Still drinking only the Vat, huh?'. 'You tell them what you always tell them?'. 'Did you hear me, you've been demoted?'. He stared off into the darkness, glass in hand and numb well before the Vat could really do a damned thing to make that happen. Anger was brewing, anger at everything. To feel again, he would fight. It was who he was. He was, after all, his father's son.

And true to his nature he was getting angry because Dick really thought he did all this for the stars on his jump wings? The rank? the glory? Finally, after just one more pitiful look too many, his eyes leveled at Dick and he hissed, "Why are you so clueless?"

Dick blinked. There was venom in that. "You think I don't understand what it's like losing men?"

Nix barked a laugh, downed the contents of his glass and flipped it over and slammed it down on the table as if it were a shot glass. "Jesus Christ, Dick, you think I do this job for the promotions, citations, medals and my resume?"

"No. I know you do it because you believe..."

"I do it for you. I stopped caring about God and country when your naive ginger ass showed up at OCS. I joined the paratroopers with you, for you, to serve you. And every step of the way I have done my job, and exceeded what was needed only to assist you. I name dropped the Nixon name to get tanks from Teddy Roosevelt Jr on Utah beach for you, for Christ sake. You want, I give. Well, sorry to disappoint you, but a lot of boys gave their lives today for something I didn't need to observe...and have my reservations about needing to be done at all. Mid-air, I realized if I wasn't by your side there wasn't really all that much I gave a shit about. Sorry for your loss, Mrs. Fill-in-the-blank Momma of a dead boy, at least it was me. At least it wasn't Dick Winters. At least he wasn't here."

Dick is left to stare back at those intense gray eyes he had stared into for years without knowing what was really looking back at him. "We all fight for the man next to us, Lew..."

"Oh for fucks sake, Richard!" Nix runs his hand through his hair and throws his head back against the chair. "I love you, you idiot. I love you more than life itself. And I do mean love you more than a brother, or a best friend, I fucking love you in the most intimate meaning of the word. You gave the word meaning, meaning I never knew."

Dick watches him, the tell-tale smirk of Lew's that says he's lit the fuse and is ready to self-destruct. That he's lashed out with truth as a last resort. That he's going to sit there and wallow in self-loathing, and use this moment to accelerate it. Despite being actually clueless all these years, Dick is quick to acknowledge his feelings and act on them. "I love you too, Lew."

[moreespressoformydepresso]

What are your honest thoughts on all Descendants boys? From both books and movies?

Oehh that’s a good question! I’ll base most of this off of the movies because I remember them more clearly. Sorry this is so late, I needed some time to sort out my thoughts. Let’s see:

Ben: cutie, golden retriever energy, needs to grow a bit more of a spine but as a recovering doormat I vibe with him.

He’s got a good heart, and he’s definitely going places, but I have no idea who decided a 16-year-old should be king. Hilariously, he’s a better king than his dad because he cares about all of his people, not just the “heroes”. But still, he’s 16, let him have his dumbass teenage years. He’s still in his phase of wanting to please everyone and that isn’t gonna lead to the best decision making. You’re king, Ben, you can overrule your girlfriend’s selfish idiotic plan of closing the barrier. Just tell her “the barrier was opened for you to come through too. If those kids aren’t worth the risk, does that mean you aren’t either? Should we throw you back?!” And she’s change her tune real fast. You gotta give some tough love sometimes.

Jay: cool, I wanna know his gym routine, pretty funny but rash, needs Carlos to temper his brand of crazy (love their bromance).

I love the narrative parallels to the movie Aladdin. Jafar thought himself so far above a street rat and now he’s raised his son to be one so he can continue being a con-man. In the movies, Jay is actually a very accurate representation of your upbringing shaping you into who you are. All Jay knows is stealing, he’s never been taught to pay if he doesn’t have to, so to him stealing’s perfectly fine. It’s normal. It’s a lot more subtle than the whole “who doesn’t like being evil” bit, but the core idea is the same: when all you’ve ever known is one perspective, that’s gonna feel like the objective truth because you’ve never had a chance to try a different one.

Carlos De Vil: Best (movie) Boy, my baby, I love him. What a little nerd (affectionate).

He’s a big part of why I willfully ignore the absolute stupidity that is the third movie’s ending. I’m sorry Mal, wtf is wrong with you??? You set your supposed friend’s abuser free for nothing but some empty platitudes and dare suggest you’ve become an empathetic person?!?! In the books, we get a lot more insight into just how horrible of a mother Cruella is, but even in the movies we see he’s had it bad because of how jumpy and nervous he is. Disney is still Disney so we don’t get much of the healing process, but we see how he calms down and adjusts to a normal life over the course of the movies when he’s out of the bad situation, which is pretty good by Disney standards. Cameron Boyce did an amazing job playing him (R.I.P Cameron) and seeing an abuse victim get comfortable within their own skin and getting the happy ending they deserve is always fun.

Harry Hook: Insane (affectionate), most fashionable drama queen ever, absolutely crazy, more than a few screws loose but in the best way possible, he’s hilarious.

So on the surface, Harry’s pretty simple. A dude who’s lost his marbles and flirts with everyone. He probably has some kind of moral compass, since he didn’t rip Mal’s throat out with his hook when she revealed her little stunt in D3, but it fell overboard at some point and couldn’t be found so nobody knows what it is except Harry himself. Also, he has his sane moments, like during that same confrontation in D3 I mentioned before where he says “And you, King Benny... you're probably gonna throw us all back inside.” It’s the first time I’ve heard him sound… not like Harry. It’s sombre and defeated, a little disappointed maybe? Either way it’s really good acting and it implies he can act completely “normal” but he just chooses not to, which makes me like him even more. He’s just a dude living his best life despite the circumstances he was born into.

Gil: adorable, hilarious, kinda clueless but in a good way.

I love characters that have no idea what’s going on half the time but are absolute sweethearts trying their best. He’s like- the opposite of his dad in every way and I’m living for it!

Gaston Jr and Gaston the third: I don’t have much to say on them, let alone separately, so they get a section together.

Honestly? I don’t remember having an opinion of them. They made Evie happy by wresting, which is cool so they get points for that. Seem like they’re trying to out-gentleman each other to win Evie’s heart and since they’re not being creepy assholes about it they are objectively better than their dad. Very much brawl over brains, the two of them, with their constant wrestling reminding me of Carlos and Jay except they’re both the muscle. Kinda cute sibling relationship, even if it’s in a VK-typical villain-flavored way.

Anthony Tremaine: squeeeee, my type is pretty boys who sigh in annoyance at everything, I guess? We only get scraps but I happily cradle them to my chest.

Uhmmm so Anthony’s personality is mostly up for imagination? The only canon information we have is that he’s most likely Anastasia’s only kid (someone on Tumblr pointed out that, in the scene with the wicked step-daughters, he’s referred to only as their cousin, not their brother) and he’s very bored with his cousins’ antics. Given A Twist In Time the potential drama is endless. Every time Anthony’s mentioned we’re reminded he’s pretty and has good style, and I love that for him. Dude lives on an isle of junk and still looks like a supermodel. Lots of room for my own ideas while still remaining within the realm of “could be canon” with just enough base in there that I’m not just creating an OC, and as a writer and artist that’s all I need tbh.

Hadie: cute, deserves better, I need more of him and Mal bonding

Mal’s half-brother, son of Hades, very cool. I like that he’s trying to turn good and having a hard time, because that’s very realistic for someone who grew up not knowing anything other than evil. Descendants 2 tried to tackle it with Mal, but failed miserably. We know Hades sucks as a parent in descendants (neglect is abuse) so that’s not gonna help him.

Dough: Awww he’s so cute with Evie 🥺

No really that’s it. He’s a nerd that gets the girl, has some very funny moments, but honestly most of his character is centered around Evie? And they’re cute together it’s not a bad thing but there isn’t much to analyze. He’s understandably pissed about someone like Chad getting all the girls while using them, but that’s also only ever seen in relation to Evie.

Chad Charming: what a bitch (derogatory), total coward, I hate him but he’s funny.

So I have no issue with characters who conduct themselves terribly (I love Audrey, (fanon) Anthony, Uma, and many others from many fandoms) if, and that’s a massive IF, they have a good reason for it. And I’ll count “because I can and I want to” as a good reason, because by that point you have someone who’s mean and owns it. I can appreciate the self-awareness and usually those characters are very extra so it’s entertaining. If not that, there needs to be a reason they are the way they are. Audrey has the pressure from her grandmother (and the borderline verbal abuse), Uma has the very real grievance of living in squalor on a run-down island full of the worst of humanity because she was born, what does Chad have? He’s spoiled. A spoiled brat. And he goes from that to an overtly whimpering coward with none of the pretense of superiority in any field. His one saving grace is that he’s a massive joke.

Diego De Vil, Clay Clayton, Gonzo, Jace and Harry Badun, Herkie, Aziz, Jonas, Lefou Deux, Li Shang Jr, everyone else I missed: no opinion, because they’re not relevant enough for the writers to give them a personality.

I have nothing I’m sorry. I barely remember reading their names and I don’t remember anything from the scenes they’re (mentioned) in to get an idea of what to talk about here.

That was… a lot lmao

[bohobooks]

I have another request, if your comfortable with Could this knew be Sebastian Sallow X reader X Ominis Gaunt (if not just pick one of the two boys)

The reader is secretly Rookwood's child and is so afraid to turn out like him and hopes no one finds out about this but somehow sebastian and ominis find out and to the readers surprise they don't hate them and under that she's nothing like Rookwood.

Nothing Like Your Father (Sebastian x MC x Ominis)

♤♤♠︎♤♤♠︎♤♤♠︎♤♤♠︎♤♤♠︎♤♤♠︎♤♤♠︎♤♤♠︎♤

Lies. One word to describe my life; one word to encompass all of the untruths that plague my every day.

From the first time Sebastian had accompanied me to Hogsmeade at the beginning of the year.

"What interest does Rookwood have in you?" He had asked. Poor clueless boy.

"I don't know." I had responded. Lies.

I had been so careful- so very fucking careful. I had orchestrated every little thing that I could to keep anyone from finding out.

From finding out what you may ask? From finding out the truth of my past, the truth of my parentage. From finding out that I was the daughter of Victor Rookwood.

Yet, in the end of it all here we were. Rookwood had caught me unaware, too busy with Ranrok to even care what my father could possibly be up to. He took me as I exited Ollivanders, believing that I was alone- completely unaware of the two boys perched atop the roof of the wandmaker's business.

I knew perfectly well that as my father apperated us to the Rookwood Castle that my boys wouldn't be far behind- yet I found myself praying to any deity that would listen that they wouldn't. I had come this far, my secret had lasted this long.

"Fuck off, Rookwood." I spat at the ground in front of him as his lackeys held my arms behind my back.

My father threw his head back in laughter, "'Fuck off, Rookwood'," he mocked me, "Is that any way to address your father you ungrateful brat?"

"You may have had a hand in my conception," I growled, "But you will never, ever be my father. Not even if the stars fall."

Rookwood tsked, circling me and my captors, "Such a shame. I was hoping you would join me. The magic in the repository is our birthright, Y/n!"

His eyes study my face, seemingly hoping to find anything but the hatred that lingered there. He shook his head, "It's a shame, really. No father looks forward to the day they kill their own daughter. Men- take care of her."

Even though the idiots hadn't even taken my wand, I couldn't reach it with my hands still pinned behind my back. I closed my eyes, allowing my magic to trail out- reaching for any lingering ancient magic in the repository below. The familiar tell-tale hum began in my veins, and my eyes shot open, glowing the bright near white blue that I have grown accustomed to. The air crackled around me and the ground began to shake.

The two goons holding my wrists became unsettled, "Uh, boss?"

My father whirled around, "Just kill her, you imbecile!"

Lightning struck down from the heavens above, disintegrating the men who restrained me. Around me, the other Ashwinders began to shout.

"Seize her!" My father ordered, but it was too late. I had already retrieved my wand from my pocket. One by one, I killed the remaining ashwinders. Collecting the traces of magic their souls left behind, I felt the ancient power within me strengthen. As I dropped the last Ashwinder, someone began to slow clap.

I turn to him, my father, as he began to circle me, "My dearest daughter," he grinned with nothing but pure malice, "All of that fighting, yet not one unforgivable left your lips. You're weak, but apparently so we're my men." He shrugs, pulling out his wand, "You know what they say, my dear. If you want something done, you have to do it yourself. Bombarda!"

Expecting that, I easily rolled out of the way. Once again, the ground starts trembling. My father seems unphased, continuing to fire blast after blast at me- clearly attempting to stop me from focusing the Ancient Magic. The joke is on him, though. Over the past year he had sent goon after goon to take me to him, but all that appeared to do was strengthen and train me. I lift my hand that was not holding my wand, pulling him off of the ground.

I watched as he floated, meters above me, "You know, dad." I spat the last word with such distain, "You're mistaken. I do use unforgivables, only when someone really deserves it. Crucio!"

Midair, my fathers body contorts in agony. I watch him, allowing him to writh for a moment. I end the spell, allowing him a moment. To my surprise, he begins to beg, "Please, my girl." His body still twitches, "We can be a family again. We can be powerful together!"

I laugh- none of this was funny, but something deep within me broke. I laughed and laughed until tears trickled from my eyes. Wiping them and calming myself, I look him in the eyes, "Dad?" I watch as hope flickers in his eyes, "Say hi to Ranrok for me, he should be joining you in hell pretty soon." My fathers eyes widen, causing the reflection of the bright green flash as I end him once and for all, "AVADA KEDAVRA."

I drop Rookwood's lifeless body to the ground, and quickly follow suit. I curl my body inward, holding my knees to my chest as I sob. Every sorrow, every heartbreak- all of it left me as I wailed.

In my fit of agonizing sorrow, I heard footsteps approaching. I whirled up to my feet, wand out and ready to fight the approaching figures.

"Woah, there." Sebastian said, holding his hands up in surrender. My guard quickly drops as Ominis wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his firm chest. My knees give out as I begin to sob again. Ominis lowers us to we are on the ground, and a second pair of arms wrap around the two of us. Ominis murmurs comforting words into my hair, "It's okay my love, everything is alright. You did what you had to do."

In their arms, I sobbed until the teats ran dry. Breaking the silence, other than the soothing words from the boys, I spoke for the first time since damning my father to hell, "How much did you see?"

Sebastian squeezed me tighter, "Enough," there was a pause as he thought, "Y/n, why didn't you tell us Rookwood was your father?"

I shook my head, still refusing to lift my face from Ominis's chest, "You'd hate me. You'd think I was like him."

Ominis chuckled, to my surprise. I pulled away from the boys, sitting up to look at them. "Omi?" I spoke carefully.

"You really thought that I, a Gaunt, would care who your father was?" He smiled and leaned forward to put a hand on my cheek.

Sebastian did the same, placing his own hand on my other cheek. His thumbs gently brushed away the lingering tears from my cheek, "It would take alot more to cause us to even think negatively about you- but to hate you?" He smiled softly.

Ominis continued, "We are far too in love with you to ever even consider hatred."

Tears filled my eyes as I once again placed myself into their arms, "I love you boys too. Forever."

[theauthorlives]

“ Happy birthday, Yancy. ” He had to thank some of the others for making sure he knew the date, he would have felt terrible if he’d missed out on celebrating it with him. Smuggling in a little something special for his cellmate had taken some finagling, but it had been more than worth it.

“ I’m glad I’m still here to celebrate your special day. ” He pulls the small white box out from behind his back and presents it to Yancy. Inside is a small tiramisu cake, it’s layers clear and even and beautiful. There was no candle, Murderslaughter had insisted, but he’d been able to write a cheery message on the top of the box.

And to accompany it, Illinois also had his guitar, in order to deliver the most dulcet and delightful of happy birthday songs that Yancy might ever receive.

@pleasuretomeetme

-

Yancy not telling Jones about his birthday was not done out of badness. Truthfully, it never crossed his mind. Hearing his cellmate say those words caught him off-guard, but he should have known better. Jones was a very clever guy. Few mysteries went unnoticed, almost like he was good at picking out the clues for things.

But that isn't important. Right now, there's a wide grin. "As am I. Makes the day a lot better knowing youse is still here. Maybe we could use the rec time to look for that one - game...?" The idea died on his tongue as he cautiously accepts the white box. It's too pristine to be anything bought in prison, and he was almost sure he didn't see Jones with this when they first met. No, this was too pretty to be something like that. That only meant it was a present of some sort, and that encouraged him to pry open the lid without damaging the box.

"Jones, this...How the fuck did you manage this?" Was this following their conversation on desserts that one time? Or was this something normal people like Jones did to mark a birthday? But there was a note attached, one that made him snort. At least that explained why Jones hadn't signed the group card. But that brought back up the mystery: "Didn't think the Warden's one to let someone get outside food sent in. Dunno how youse managed to sweet-talk him, but... Thanks. But you do knows youse is getting some of this too, right? I'm no flavour expert!"

Once more, the plan to make a joke about Jones being the taste expert was brought to a halt as Jones' guitar accompany the singing that would likely be sweeter than the dessert Yancy was holding and more than enough to make the greaser's cheeks heat up with a flustered smile.

[aike-pandas]

HC’s for a clueless ass Detective 

•worked with Dream at first until Sam found out about them and told them the truth that Dream kept hidden 

•*pushes up Glasses* The evidence you left behind states otherwise. 

•someone stole their glasses once and they couldn’t see and they couldn’t make a case so they just sat down and didn’t move. 

•Taylor fan. 

•Dude stfu I’m trying to find out who the heck has been creating chaos. No Dream I don’t have time for a movie night- Yes Dream I’m very busy, Fine, if you help me with this case. 

•For Dream, he gets all snuggly and cute with only them be had he keeps them hidden and gives them random cases and riddles from L’ManBurg or anywhere he needs info from and gives them to them. 

•Crime shows crime shows crime shows crime shows 

•for Sam, Dream and Detective had a argument over a case and decided to take a walk, and bumped into Sam and stayed with him for awhile. Two crime busters together!!! 

•Goggy and Detective met because Detective moved out to get more cases because they finished all the ones Dream gave them too fast. 

•BBH and/Or skeppy because of a arguement about Tommy and Detective ran away and Bad Took them because well Dream’s Dangerous and whatever leverage they can get they’ll take. And BBH or Skeppy fell in love 

•Literally just Dream being a loud idiot got them to leave :/ 

•anyways Detective always has such cute nicknames like “my favorite riddle.” Or “How’s my Galaxy?” Really nerdy names 

•Bug allergy. Bug allergy. Bug allergy. Bug allergy. 

•do you have a degree?! “I have 5 actually.” 

•your kinda small. “I didn’t do sports alright? Stfu.” 

•owns like a black cat that they trained to sit on their shoulder it was really cute. 

•Yandere Dream? Trying to keep them all to himself? But one slip up and an unlocked door made them lose them. [angst prompt :/]

•MOVIES MOVIES MOVIES MOVIES. 

•movie HC’s with Detective y/n 

•George: sweetheart lays on y/n’s chest and either y/n wraps their legs around him or he does it himself. PLAY. WITH.  HIS. HAIR. 

•Dream: baby boy. Baby baby boy!! Absolutely needs to be held. Being a criminal is hard alr especially if your hiding it from your Detective s/o 

•SapNap: Honestly BBH was the one who tossed a blanket over you two, SapNap can’t stand horror, or crime movies that’s a fact. But y/n loves them so he sucks it up. Ends up probably face into their chest, while they sling an arm lazily over his back running shapes over his back and humming turning down the movie so he can calm down. 

•Skeppy: screams, a lot. Y/n can swear they have bloody ears by the end of it. Refuses to hide though, uses a pillow instead because he’s a “manly man.”  Y/n doesn’t need their 5 degrees to see he’s terrified 🥺

•BBH: He loves horror and crime, sometimes even the Horror is too scary for y/n! So BBH is the pillow this time and they snuggle up into his chest to hide. He’s like a giant stuffie to y/n 

•Wilbur, smokes the whole time even though Detective y/n tells him to quit it. He leans forward to the movie and pays so much attention, ends up helping y/n on some cases saying “well damn not my fault I want cuddles and your work is taking up the time 😐.” And actually really enjoys helping in cases that y/n’s stumped on

•Quackity: was and never will be made for horror, he loves crime though. Always comments how stupid the ideas are from criminals. 

•Foolish: Sweet Bby is so confused why a human would do that to another human. Precious bby boy 🥺y/n and Foolish always  end up watching some Scooby Doo because they don’t have the heart to tell him Humans are just Evil

•AweSamDude: He’s down, all the time, literally it’s a big session on commenting on stupid mistakes and how much they or he would do better. Never watch a movie with those two. 

•Karl Jacobs:  Cried, and screamed. You had to turn it off and play some other movie. Snuggled right up into their chest like a baby. He’s a lot more used to it but still finds it scary. 

•Can’t and Won’t flinch. You could throw a sword at them. Blank bitch face and walks away. 

•”don’t talk to me or my baby boy AGAIN.” -Detective Y/n talking about literally EVERYONE. 

•writes down small details about everyone in a cute way, not a stalker way.

•112’s attempt at ponk LESSGO: During a horror movie Depends on which Ponk arc- Before his arm getting chopped off? Screams, a lot, after? Sits there with y/n and hums. 

•Y/n wouldn’t get the memo of “EggPire Bad >:(“ more of “oooooo more people to question with a new experience!” Also BBH doesn’t have the heart to corrupt this y/n because no matter who says what y/n always welcomes everyone in their home that they built away from Dream for movies. 

•super freaking sweet oml

•cop training? Definitely, Law School? Oh absolutely. Parkour? MHMM

Oh my lord- I love all of this

[n0bamak1s]

clueless - maki zenin x reader

request: “I was thinking Maki Zenin x Fem reader where y/n is really intimidated by Maki and has avoided her since they first met each other. Despite that, they both have feelings for each other and after a while Maki gets annoyed with y/n and confronts her to figure out why she keeps avoiding Maki. And then the reader accidentally confesses and says something like “how could I not feel intimidated by someone so hot!?”” - @wh0legrain

summary: it’s difficult for you to read maki’s intent when she tries to become more approachable to you, which throws of your plan of trying to avoid her at all costs. alternatively titled: maki zenin is terrible at flirting (genre: fluff, attempt at humor, idiots to lovers)

warnings: like one or two swear words, mentions of bruises/scrapes from training

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i honestly had so much fun with the dynamic between maki and reader here! i love the idea that maki would have no idea how to flirt lmao

���don’t look now, but she’s looking at you again.” panda, your current sparring partner, peered at her over your shoulder as you got into a fighting position. of course, out of curiosity you immediately turned around, and unluckily for your own ego, you made direct eye contact with maki. she seemed to have no intent of backing down from your impromptu staring contest, intense black eyes remaining on you, and had you not been so focused on trying to figure out what had caused this sudden interest in you, you’d have noticed the amused glint in her eyes.

did she really have no shame in being caught staring at you?

before giving yourself any more time to process her expression, you whipped your head back around to face panda. at least you were able to take note of the amusement on his face.

“i don’t get why she keeps glaring at me.” you huffed annoyedly, still feeling her gaze burn into the back of your head. shouldn’t she be busy sparring with inumaki? “if it’s about that one time i borrowed her uniform skirt because mine was in the wash, she should be more mad about inumaki and gojo taking it every time she’s on a mission to try it on.”

panda had a shocked expression on his face, as if to ask why the hell you knew about the boys prancing around in the girl’s skirts whenever the opportunity arose, but it was quickly wiped off to be replaced by a knowing sort of smile.

“no, i doubt that’s why.” his voice rang with the sing-songy sound of knowing something you didn’t, but you simply chose to raise an annoyed eyebrow at his annoying little game rather than question him.

even as you ran at him, fists raised defensively, you swore you could still feel a pair of sleek eyes trailing your movements. you slid to dodge panda’s swing at you, leaving a layer of dirt on the hem of your shorts. despite succeeding in avoiding sparring with maki, which admittedly sounded absolutely brutal, you felt extremely ungrateful for panda’s strength as he lifted you up by the wrist. somehow he managed to end up with you flipped onto your back, despite your best efforts to sweep his legs out from under him. if losing to a literal panda in a fight wasn’t embarrassing enough, it didn’t help that this was the moment maki had decided to suddenly start paying attention to you, a fact you became acutely aware of as she hovered over you, her figure shadowed by the sun behind you.

“you okay?” she cocked an eyebrow, extending a hand to pull you to your feet, making you suddenly conscious of how her legs were positioned on either side of you, so you laid beneath her. when you were unable to sputter out a response, she sighed softly, leaning down so she knelt with her knees resting on the dirt on either side of your thighs. a hand waves in front of your face, and makis brows furrow slightly. “did you hit your head or something because of that idiot?” she cocked a thumb at your sparring partner.

something about her sudden proximity seemed to shock you out of your distracted daze, making you push yourself up so you held yourself by palms flat on the ground. taking note of how close your face was to hers, the corners of her mouth turned up in a smirk, her lips parting slightly to show her teeth. you weren’t even sure if she was aware of the fact that she was smiling right now, or the effect she was having on your already embarrassed state as she leaned over you, her figure shadowing yours.

why was she so intent on making fun of you?

“i’m fine!” you managed to blurt out, pulling your knees close to you to escape the compromising position she’d put the both of you in.

her eyes remained playfully narrowed and her lips turned up, but as she opened her mouth to say something, you practically sprung up from the ground as if you weren’t bruised and tired from fighting, turning on your heel to go back to panda. you flashed an awkwardly apologetic smile, before shrouding yourself in panda’s shadow.

you found yourself grateful for the shadow panda cast on you, as it shielded your eyes from the sun, and the glare you knew was inevitably resting behind maki’s glasses.

the four of you remained sparring until the first glimpse of heavy gray clouds masqueraded the blistering sun. you helped panda up from where he’d laid on the ground, spotting out of the corner of your eye none other than gojo, who looked almost comical inspecting the state of the sky with his usual dopey smile while still adorning his iconic blindfold. had you not known any better, you’d say he looked like a complete idiot.

on the other hand, maki, who did know better, seemed to have no problem stating that he did, in fact, look like a complete idiot.

“so are you just gonna stand there all day, moron? or do you actually have something important to say for once.” maki crossed her arms over her chest, making her jacket taut over her muscles, catching your attention for the briefest of moments. you quickly averted your eyes back to gojo in hopes of not being caught staring as she had earlier, as if you were a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. though you couldn’t see gojos eyes, you could sense a sort of mischief from him as he smiled at you. was today just some weird holiday where people stared at you for no reason that no one had informed you about?

“you guys seem to have the sky on your side today.” gojo smiled widely as his gaze flickered between the four of you lined up in front of him. “since it seems to be about to rain, you guys can get off a little early today, just go clean up in the bathrooms if you need to.” he waved his hands at you all, in a motion that seemed to be shooing you away.

you begin to feel the beginnings of drizzling rain hitting the tip of your nose, and the top of your head, and take that as your cue to leave. letting out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in, you unzipped and shrugged off your hoodie, throwing it over your shoulder as you turned towards the heavy doors of the school building. you’d only gotten a couple steps closer than you’d been before you heard the familiar sound of your name, called from the less familiar source that was maki zenin.

“wait up!” she called, taking long strides to catch up to you. “if we’re cleaning up now, i’ll come with you and i can help you if you got scraped or anything.” her hand rubbed the back of her neck, and a soft smile cracked onto her lips, egging you on to respond.

you furrowed your brows slightly. she had never bothered to help you out like this before, so what made it different. “i think i’ll be fine.” you hoped your embarrassment at the idea of the situation didn’t show on your face.

“tch, it’s not like i’m planning to kill you in there or anything.” honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if she had been. “it’ll just be weird if we’re both patching ourselves up in silence when there’s clearly a more efficient way to do it.”

screw her for always being correct.

you nodded your head in agreement in a way that was comically defeated. she motioned for you to follow her, and so you trailed behind her like a lost puppy.

though you had no way to prove it, you could’ve sworn that gojo winked at you from underneath his blindfold as you passed him.

the two of you walked in silence that seemed comfortable for you, but maki seemed clearly impatient.

“i wanted to check on you and ask if you were alright.” she broke the silence, pulling off her rain stained glasses to wipe them on the edge of her shorts. “you seemed really frazzled earlier, so if you hit your head or something we can take you to shoko, i wouldn’t want you to get seriously hurt or something.”

you were somewhat surprised by her words, but feigned indifference as you smiled reassuringly. “i’m fine, was just kinda lost in my thoughts earlier. guess you kinda just caught me off guard.” you were telling the truth, so why did it feel as if you were lying straight through your teeth?

as she swung open the girls bathroom door, she gave you an incredulous look, as if she was trying to recall the events of the day that could have made you so tense. you hoisted yourself up to sit on the sink, leaning back with a sigh of relief from finally relaxing your muscles. maki grabbed the small first aid kit, positioning herself to stand between your legs,a position that was oddly reminiscent of when you’d been on the field earlier. she caught your wrist in your hand, causing you to jump slightly as her eyes scanned your forearm, riddled with some bruises from training, but nothing that really needed cleaning.

“what could i have possibly done to catch you off guard?” her words sounded concerned, but contrasted the teasing smile playing at her lips. under the fluorescent lights, you could make out the flush tinted on her cheeks from being outside all day, as if she’d been kissed by the sun herself.

suddenly you felt very shy, twiddling with your thumbs in your lap, and willing your eyes anywhere but where they’d meet maki’s. to her, your current flustered state was an amusing contrast to how you were when fighting curses, your usual confident and strong willed demeanor had been replaced with the attitude of a bashful school girl. still, you knew you’d have to be confrontational in this moment.

“please stop teasing me, maki.” you looked her dead in the eyes, wiping the amusement from her face, and swapping it with a mixture of shock and worry.

“i’m not making fun of you.” she shook her head, her already pink dusted cheeks turning more red. “what makes you think I am?”

you chucked humourlessly. “well if the glaring at me wasn’t enough, you seem to keep trying to embarrass me. if it’s because of that time i borrowed your skirt without telling you, i really am sorry, but stop trying to make fun of me.”

“when did you borrow my skirt? i always just assume it’s the boys being idiots. you can borrow my skirt anytime you want.” you wished you could be mad at her for her nonchalance. “besides, YOU’RE the one who’s always avoiding me, panda told me i should try to be more approachable, so i thought eye contact might help.” she shrugged exasperatedly, placing her hands flat on sink, resting on either side of your thighs.

“well, you don’t exactly have the most approachable face when you’re making ‘eye contact.’ you had me thinking you were plotting my downfall in your head or something.” she stifled a laugh at your overdramatization. “it was totally intimidating.”

“oh?” her smile was dopey, one that only you would be flustered by. “does that mean i make you nervous?” her voice was hushed as she tilted her head downwards toward you, looking satisfied with herself.

“well you’re gonna make anyone nervous if you’re sending them death glares one second and offering to clean their wounds the next.”

her only response was a laugh as she buried her face in her hands. it wasn’t a mean laugh, not one directed at you, more so just her laughing at what idiots the both of you were being.

“you really thought i hated you?” her words were spaced apart by involuntary giggles, her mouth was stretched into a wide grin, almost like one from gojo. “man, i thought i was so obvious!” she turned to hoist herself next to you on the sink, leaning her head on your shoulder as her whole body shook from laughter.

you said nothing in response, just processing if this moment was real. you’d hardly seen maki smile before today, let alone laugh.

“you mean to tell me you’ve spent all this time avoiding me because you thought i hated you?” admittedly, when she repeated it back to you after her outburst of laughter, it did sound rather ridiculous. but to be fair, she should’ve considered the possibility before her sorry attempt to be more approachable.

“it’s not my fault you scare the crap out of me, i mean, how could i not be intimidated by someone so hot!” your mouth moves faster than your brain, and she lifts her head from your shoulder, making you hyper aware of both your words and your sudden proximity to her face.

shit.

your eyes are wide as saucers as you stare at her, convinced that, like a dinosaur, if you don’t move, she won’t even notice you’re there. much to your dread, she smiles yet again (seriously, today alone make up a solid 90% of the times you’d ever seen her smile.)

“you’re such a dumbass, you know?” you can hear the laughter threatening to bubble up in her voice. you wish you could come up with a clever comeback, but you just stared back, moth gaping like a fish out of water. “the reason i was asking panda for advice was because i like you. in hindsight, i suppose he’s probably not the most reliable when it comes to relationship advice.”

“all you really got out of following his advice was making a fool out of me.” you looked down at your feet. “but i guess i kind of did that myself anyways.”

“don’t beat yourself up about it. it’s cute.” she leaned forward so she was in your peripheral, willing you to look at her. “plus if you weren’t such an idiot, i’d have to keep sending you ‘death glares’, as you like to call them, to get your attention.” she chuckled, and you lifted your hand to shove her playfully, before she caught your wrist effortlessly, tugging slightly so you could feel her breath fan on your face.

once again, your mouth moved before you had time to think. “maki...can i kiss you?” you’d taken note of how her eyes darted between your eyes and your lips.

it was her turn to be bashful now. she nodded slowly, her eyes half lidded, as she dared to close the small amount of distance between the both of you. without second thought, you press your lips to hers tenderly, letting your arms loop around her neck, hands meeting between her shoulder blades. her eyelashes tickle your face as they flutter closed, with her hands balancing her, palms flat on the sink counter. the pitter pattering sound of rain from outside echoed in you ears.

the kiss is messy and awkward, but in that moment, you felt on top of the world, smiling into it without a care in the world as your fingers played with the ends of her ponytail. you break away reluctantly for air, taking in the dopey smile on her face, and the way her hands reached to grab yours to hold in her own, rubbing small circles in the back of your hand with her calloused thumb. her breathing is soft and steady, clearly still readjusting after your kiss. wordlessly, she leans forward to rest her head on your shoulder, so you can feel her breath hit the crook of your neck, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“thank god you’re such an idiot.”

[thefanbasewhore]

Can you do a soulmate Stucky x reader? I feel like you would write that so well, especially how you portrayed bucky in "are you mad at me" was so soft. The soulmate version would be so cute

Summary || Bucky and Steve meet their soulmate, which they had no idea existed.

Warning/content || fluff, a small explicit scene, fighting. Soulmate AU.

Paring || Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve rogers

I got a little carried away, but enjoy ❤️ not edited or beta read but I'm sleepy 😴

Bucky and Steve have had each other from the moment they have met. Imaging their surprise, being two little boys from Brooklyn seeing colors, something the two agreed to hide, pending the time period.

It was different now, a different time. They were accepted and while both of them loved each other, so very much, especially through the mind control, fighting each other, then for each other. They always knew something was missing.

A color, maybe even two, three. A part of them missing but they both collectively came to the conclusion that it was just that. Some missing colors, it happens sometimes.

It happens when they least expect it.

After Thanos, after Tony finally deciding to leave that kind of life behind, buying a small two bedroom house on the outskirts of the city. A home to grow old in, be together for the first time since before the war started but only one thing prevented that.

The house was a disaster, gutted to the foundations, no running water, green moss outside covered the whole house, the lawn completely out of control. For Bucky it was a hard no, it was a dump but the moment Steve fluttered those ridiculously long lashes, how could he say no?

So here they are, sweating on this 90 degree day, putting up new dry wall with no air-conditioning.

"What color should it be?" Steve asks, glancing to his dark haired lover, taking notice of his now shirtless appearance. Bucky let out a sigh, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Maybe we should get all of the walls up first."

Steve clicks his tongue, "I like the color green, like a nice pastel mint green."

"Whatever you want, honey." Bucky wasn't too picky, besides whatever made Steve happy, made him happy.

"Hello?" A sweet, feminine voice came from the kitchen. The doors left open because of the heat, there was nothing much in here anyways.

Steve pulls away from his task, pulling his shirt over his head to wipe his forehead with it. "Come in, we are in the kitchen."

Bucky wasn't too alarmed, Steve had told him previously that he hired a someone to make up the yard, nothing too fancy but the both of them were completely clueless when it came to plants, or gardens period.

"Quite a project you have going on here, Mr. Rogers." No doubt taking in the half gutted house along the way. While they have never met, they spoke on the phone briefly about his wants.

"You have no idea, Hun."

The woman looks around the kitchen first, noticing the freshly painted cabinet, the smell a dead giveaway, half eaten burgers thrown to the side on a small, make shift table with barely enough room to fit.

At first glance towards the man she notices the sharp jawline, defined but soft feature of the blonde as she greets him with a smile which soon drops in confusion as small dots of color appear. Stormy blue eyes with a full beard, Steve's mouth dropping agape as he notices the splirts of color - the missing colors for 106 years finally appear.

Bucky notices the tension in the room, shifting his attention from the wall to Steve, noticing how intensely he's staring, Bucky follows the line of vision and meets sweet eyes.

She's hit with another line of color, different from Steve's but now there's no more gray hue, bright yellows and blues. The outside is suddenly so bright and Bucky mouth drops.

This cannot be happening.

They sit there and stare for what seems like hours.

"I - ugh.." she starts, "What is happening?"

***

Sometimes life just throws curve balls, like finding out that your soulmate or in this cause soulmates are two, one hundred year old super soldiers who have already been in love with each other for over a decade.

The pull is already strong, nature intended for these souls to be together until death due part and honestly Bucky could feel it. With Steve he was used to the urge of wanting to have him close, kiss him every free minute he has but with the woman in front of him, it's new.

He doesn't even know her name, watches the way she nervously flickers from Steve's gaze to his own. She's beautiful.

Strong but delicate features, the curve of her nose is cute, cupid lips are so full... kissable. He can't stop staring, even with Steve and her in the mist of conversation. The make shift table cleared of all prior mess, Buck and Steve have to share a chair, which is quite comical, seeing two giant supersoldier try to share a small, old, dinning room seat.

Bucky's metal fingers twitch, metal plate click and whirl to life as he tights to urge to map her face out with his fingers. His heart is beating so fast, filled with so much... Love? Joy?

No matter how much Steve and Bucky try to hide it.. deep down they always knew, something was missing and in this case, someone.

"You're beautiful." The words catch both her and Steve off guard, Bucky blushes red something terrible but the sweet smile defuses the fire.

Well until she says something back, "You are too."

His whole face is hot and Steve reaches over to affectionately rub the back of his shoulder. Of course Steve was calm, he always is.

He handles things with lots of thought and understanding, while Buck is more hot headed, acts on the moment.

***

"It doesn't feel right." Bucky comments, watching from the window to insure she safely gets into the car. Steve sighs, by the time they're done talking darkness has filled the house. Steve affectionately squeezes the brunette's bicep, pressing a kiss to his hair.

"I know Bucky. This is a lot for her, for us. She needs to take time and reflect on this. She'll come to us when she's ready."

Bucky knows nothing then her name, and love for plants but chews at his bottom lip nervously. She's too far, the bond pulls at his heart strings. Now bonded forever. "What if she never comes back?"

"She will."

***

A few days pass, the kitchen is finally done, new appliances, new china and kitchen fully stocked. Steve is making something for Dinner - it smells amazing while Bucky starts painting the walls of the lifeless living room.

It's bare, not even something to sit on but no doubt with the stamina of two super soldiers it will be done by next week.

The knock on the front door is unexpected, but Bucky replies quickly. "I got it, Stevie!"

He expects some older, much wrinkly neighbor to be complaining about the noise of the nail gone or something this late at night. His mouth drops, a little shocked at the sight of her.

A very formal sitting dress, long and black, dips into a sweetheart neckline, the valley of her breasts easily visible. Hair is thrown into a neat updo, sexy and sleek.

Bucky clears his throat. "Hi." He squeaks out, feeling like a total idiot as he watches her nervously shift her weight from one heel to the other.

"Hi, I was in the area. A wedding for one my clients, thought I'd come say hello." Bucky wants to shake his head in disbelief that something so beautiful, just like Steve is made for him.

The universe sculpted and made two beautiful, breath taking human beings to be his and it's overwhelming. She's so pretty it's alarming.

It was a good excuse, the truth but not the real reason she stopped by. How could she tell them that they have been on her mind none stop? It physically hurts to be away for so long.

"Who is it, Buck?" Steve mumbles, interrupting the thick tension between the two.

"Come in, doll." Bucky's helps her with the jacket that lays over his shoulders, mentioning his head towards the direction of the kitchen, where his other lover is.

Steve is stunned none the less, he at least expected a few more days. Also, feeling much like Bucky, amazed by the radiating beauty.

He decides to play it cool, dimples forming with a breath taking smile. "Do you like spaghetti?"

Hours pass, time moves so fast with conversation, and adding wine to the mix surely didn't help.

The trio once again in the kitchen, but this time each have a chair, a new, more comfortable dinning set.

"You got this done fast. It's beautiful." She comments, "Colors are beautiful, I guess I have you two to thank for that."

Bucky shifts in his seat, the glass of wine is useless but still finds himself sipping from it. Her eyes are red, watery with a slight buzz.

"Do you feel it?" The question has both Bucky and Steve look at each other, watching her teary eyes as she presses a hand to sooth the ache in her chest. "It hurts, it hurts to be away. All week."

"It's normal." Steve answers just above a whisper, his next words make Bucky's bottom lip quiver. "I felt it every day for the last 5 years, Bucky was gone."

Bucky had never thought about it - there hasn't been enough time to. It's only been a month later since the return and it never occurred to him what Steve has gone through.

"Steve.." He starts, tears kiss his waterline as his fingers run through the blonde's hair. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't know, I -."

"Couldn't prevent it Buck. It happened but you're here now and.." Steve turns his attention towards the girl, tears slip past her eyelids. It's for Steve, for Bucky.. all the pain and suffering they've been through. "Hey, don't cry, it's alright beautiful."

It's feels right, despite barely knowing the man, nothing feel more right then being pulled into his chest as a large metal hand comforts her in a different way, rubbing the loose strands of hair as he murmurs. "We've got you now, you're our other half."

***

Months have past from that day. The house is finally done, everything they could have imagined with the additional of an extra tooth brush in the cup that sits on the bathroom sink, a pile of fuzzy blankets at the bottom of the bed and a five year old chocolate lab. Steve didn't mind much, he's always loved dogs, Bucky on the other hand...

"Alright, alright, Maverick." Bucky huffs, grocery bags in hand as the dog excitedly nuzzles his legs, following him throughout the house like it wasn't only an hour ago he's seen him. Once putting the bags down, hears the whine, big brown eyes staring up at him. Bucky sighs, dropping to a knee before petting the pup's head. "Alright you mutt, don't tell anyone about this."

"Too late, pal." Bucky jumps, hearing the amusement in Steve's voice, followed by the giggle of the woman that peers out from behind him. Wrapping her arms around Steve before testing her head against his shoulder.

"Caught you red handed, you love Mav." Bucky grumbles at her words, feeling two smaller hands wrap around his waist as a head falls into his chest. He presses a soft kiss into her hair before taking in the blonde that barely fits through the doorway he leans against.

Bucky's free hand reaches out, mentioning him closer but as she's soon finds herself in the middle of a super soldier sandwich. "Hi, baby." Bucky presses a kiss to the blonde's lips.

"Hi, pal."

***

"It's only one mission. That's it, we will be in and out." Steve promises, not liking the way his girls face twist into a worried expression.

Heavy eyes, lower lip sticking out to pout. "What if something happens? If you get hurt? Or if they find you, Bucky?"

"I told you, Hydra is gone, honey." Bucky's large hands sooth over her tight shoulders, pressing soft kisses to the back of her upper traps.

"No. You still have nightmares at least three times a week. This can't be good for you. And you." She turns her attention back towards Steve, "Barely sleep four hours a night. You carry the fault on your shoulders, you don't need anymore. I don't want you two to go."

"We don't have a choice. They were my family once, I owe this to them." Steve didn't miss the way her lips moves to form a snarl, not sparing another glance as she makes a b-line for the stairs.

Bucky sighs, leaning against the wall. "She's going to be mad at us." Rubbing his chest with hopes to ease the burn.

The bond pulls at their hearts, a slow, painful punishment for their actions.

They return two weeks later, tired, just wanting to see their girl. The moment they walk into the house they look at each other with will wild eyes, heart pumping as they fear the worse. The dog, the annoying wiggling tail that would bark is one where to be found, something is wrong.

It's alarming. "Where is that freaking mutt?"

Steve calls her name, but there is no answer. Bucky and him are searching the house, ascending the stairs, opening the bedroom door with a deep sigh of relief.

The stupid dog takes up half of the bed, but is cuddled into his owner. Arm draped around the ball of fur, amount as long as her.

The dog lifts his head, a little tail waggle as Steve stretches his ears, lowering to his knees and laying his top half over the bed to press loud, audible kisses to his ears. "Good boy, protecting our girl while we are gone."

When morning comes she notices the dog is still pressed against her, licking small stripes against her cheeks. "Have to go out, buddy?"

She barely makes it five steps before tripping over two rather large bodies, sleeping on a makeshift bed on the floor. Bucky groans and Steve's eyes flicker open.

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Wanted you to sleep pretty girl. Mav was taking up all the room and you looked like an angel." Bucky hums in agreement despite his eyes being closed.

"Mmm, well it's all free now." It's short, simple but the sarcastic tone has Bucky's eyes flickering to meet his boyfriend's. They both sigh, staring up at the ceiling, knowing it's going to be a long day.

And it is. She's does whatever she can to get away from them, only answers with short replies to the point Bucky can't take it anymore.

"Sweetheart," Bucky tries again but she doesn't acknowledge him, eyes stayed glued to the book. He gets fed up, metal plates click as artificial appendages run over the binding and pull it from her grasp.

"Give it back, James."

He cringes at the name, a displeased frown wears his face. "No, you have to talk to us."

"No."

"You're bring a brat." Bucky starts, watching her expression change from annoyed to anger, wrinkles of frustration pinch between her eyebrows.

"Buck - don't say that to her." Steve comments, it's his fault, he's the one who said yes without confiding in her first.

"She is, it's over with now. She has no right to be this mad."

"No right?" Her chest fills with emotion as a humourless chuckle causes both men to stiffen. "No right? Huh Buck? I sat here for two full weeks, no communication, nothing while the two of you are out there fighting God knows what after you swore, promised you would always be with me. Don't promise me forever if you're just going to throw yourself in danger! You're going to die and leave me, or worse! Both of you will."

No one says a word, only watch as her chest rises and falls with deep, heavy pants despite the tears that rolls past her eyes lashes.

"Honey, I'm sorry -."

"I don't want to hear it James, and you." She turns towards Steve, fire in her soul. "I thought you would understand, more then him, considering it has happened to you."

She leaves the room without another word, Buck turns towards Steve, watching the way he fights the tears that gather. The pain of loosing Bucky is still so fresh, "She's right Buck, we fucked up."

"I know, I know." He mumbles into Steve's shoulder, pulling him close.

***

"You're so good to me, sweet girl." Bucky moans as she shifts her hips against him, the blunt end of his cock hitting the spot inside her that makes her squeal for more.

Large hands squeeze her hips as Steve leans over to find his boyfriend's lips, kissing him through the gasps and whines of their girl's name as she circles her hips around Bucky.

Steve's hands pull at his hair, lips trailing from his lips, down his cheeks before nipping at his jaw.

"How does he feel honey?"

"So good, Stevie." For a second he's in a trance, watching the way her face contours with pleasure and the pain of her third orgasm well on its way.

Steve lays next to Buck, hand wrapping around his own heaviness between his legs as he stokes it, switching between her face of pleasure to Bucky's, who bites his lip to suppress a moan.

It's short lived as hips stutter against her own, coating her walls with his warm cum.

Steve barely gives her time to recover, positioning her on his hands and knees before hovering over her ear and nibbling on it. "My turn, honey."

***

Her hands nervously shake, the kitchen table is all set up, dinner is ready but at the moment she doesn't have an appetite.

Between this morning sickness, the overall change her body is under going, food makes her sick. The opening of the front door makes her sit up straight, sucking in a deep breath.

Two voices conversationing in the hall, "I thought I said for you to lock the door when we leave." Buck is clearly annoyed, it's been a long day but Steve rubs his shoulders, mumbling something incoherent.

Upon entering the kitchen, they both grow worried. Face drained of color, red blotchy eyes with shaky hands.

"Hey, hey." Steve drops to his knees in front of her seat in an instant, hands curling around her wrist as worried steel blue eyes follow his stance, reaching over to stroke her cheek. "What is it? What happened?"

"I'm pregnant." She pauses, "I'm scared, I'm scared. What if someone comes for you? How are we supposed to raise a baby? What if it has the serum, will it ever be safe?"

The questions fill Bucky with dread, how much though put into every sentence, every word is like a new hit of pain to his body but he stays strong. For his girl, he leans forward, wiping the tears away from discolored cheeks. "Everything is going to be fine babydoll, you're going to be fine, our baby is going to be fine."

[theflyingfeeling]

Hi, if I'm not late to throw this idea at you: Aleksi and Olli aren't dating yet, but they both want to make a move at the Valentines day. So we have an incredibly long day at studio, two nervous (idiots) boys in love and others who either try to help or observe the whole show with some popcorn

Again, right up my alley! 💞

Also, you were not late, but I am, horribly so 😂

(long(ish) text alert!)

~

Aleksi stared at the road ahead of him, sucking his lips as he tried to find the right opener to present his reuqest to Niko.

“Hey, umm,” he began and ran his fingers through his hair, “can I ask you a favour?”

Niko looked up from his phone. “What is it?”

“Well, umm…” It was laughable how nervous he was about the whole situation. “Actually, never mind,” he sighed after a moment.

It’s not like he’d ever actually have the courage to do something about it; getting together with Olli was just a daydream, nothing more, and whether Niko helped him out or not made little to no difference.

But oh, what a daydream it was! How lovely were the butterflies that fluttered around inside his stomach whenever Olli smiled at him, sometimes bashfully, other times knowing exactly what he did to Aleksi. How devastating was it when he looked away, indifferent or insecure, Aleksi could only guess, yet it broke his heart a little each time. Combined with all the small touches, the lingering hugs, and the way he occasionally straight up crawled next to Aleksi in his bed on tour or on the sofa at their training studio and snuggled against him when he was tired or drunk enough, it was all but simple trying to figure out how Olli felt about him. Even still, he really, really wanted to believe the crush was requited. Unfortunately, you just couldn’t be completely sure when it came to Olli Matela, who on his best (or worst, depending on how you looked at it) days could behave like he lived off kisses and cuddles as much as Porko did.

As if Niko had been reading his mind, he asked: “Is it about Olli?”

And if there was one thing Aleksi had learnt over the years spent with his violent pop boys, it was that there was no use lying to Niko about anything. He’d dig out the truth eventually, one way or another; hiding the truth from him would only slow him down, if even that.

“Yeah,” Aleksi said quietly, not even bothering to ask what had given him away.

“He likes you too, bro,” Niko stated, proceeding to browse his phone. “In case you were wondering.”

Ironically, that information did not help Aleksi’s despair in the slightest.

“I like him so bad,” Aleksi groaned, tightening his grip on the steering wheel, “and I was gonna do...something about it today, but… ugh, I don’t know.”

“Well, what did you have in mind?” Seemingly realising the conversation was not over, Niko pocketed his phone and turned on his seat for a better view at Aleksi.

Aleksi felt his cheeks warming and he groaned again, feeling like a clueless teenager crushing on his classmate.

“Aww, did you wanna kiss him? Ask him to be your Valentine?” Niko chirped. Aleksi didn’t need to look at him to know the kind of smile Niko was wearing.

Suddenly he regretted not having consulted Tommi instead.

“I just want to… be with him.”

“Lucky for you buddy, I have good reason to believe the bassist will be at the studio as well. I mean, he damn better be, if he wants to have his bass lines finished today.”

“But you all will be there too,” Aleksi muttered, already dreading the chaos awaiting them at the studio. Nothing in particular needed to even happen; when Blind Channel assembled, it was sure to end in pure mayhem, often sooner rather than later.

“Why, that minor obstacle is easily dealt with,” Niko assured him. Aleksi just barely dared to take a glance at Niko, only to see an annoyingly smug smile stuck on his lips. “Trust me.”

Niko boosted his word by lightly nudging Aleksi’s shoulder with his fist.

Aleksi did not trust him, not even a little bit, but he supposed it was the best shot he got.

~

Olli was not surprised to find the terror twins already at work by the time he arrived at the studio with Tommi.

“Is Aleksi here yet?” Olli asked as he stepped in the room.

Joel shook his head, never lifting his gaze from his guitar, but Joonas immediately looked up, eyebrows risen. Then he began wiggling them while smiling widely at Olli, not missing a beat as he kept plucking on his six-string.

“Ooh, so will this finally be the day?” he asked, tapping Olli’s foot with his as Olli sat next to him on the sofa.

“I don’t knooooooooow,” Olli growled and slid against the back rest. He slammed his palms on his cheeks and lightly pressed his eyes with his fingers.

It was so unlike him to spend half the night awake imagining all the thrilling, hand-trembling, and sometimes even absurd scenarios in which he would finally make a move on Aleksi, or at least a more obvious move than what he had done thus far. He had tossed and turned in his bed, his mind unwilling to let him rest from thoughts of taking Aleksi’s hand in his, looking him in the eyes for as long as his patience would allow before stepping in closer, maybe sliding his other hand to Aleksi’s smooth neck and leaning in for a kiss. Perhaps Aleksi would meet him half way; that’s what Olli allowed himself to hope anyway. Although Olli infamously had a history of failing at putting together the clues when someone was crushing on him, he was fairly certain he had been reading Aleksi’s non-verbal cues correctly. Only fairly certain, however, because of course Aleksi could have been moaning Olli’s name in his sleep that one night on tour as a friend, too. And how was Olli supposed to know whether the heart next to his name in Aleksi’s WhatsApp contacts Olli had seen when he had been looking over Aleksi’s shoulder as he browsed his phone meant anything at all?

There was a chance it all was just foolishly wishful thinking and he could very possibly turn their whole relationship incredibly awkward if his gut feeling had misled him. But how much longer would he stay sane, not knowing for sure?

He knew his bandmates would argue he wasn’t all that sane to begin with, which is why he generally avoided asking their advice regarding matters like this, if only he could help it. Thus, turning to Joonas only showed just how desperate he was.

“What should I do?” he whined and leaned his head on Joonas’ shoulder. “I don’t think I can handle this anymore.”

“Handle what?” Joel finally looked at Olli, wearing a slight frown on his face.

Joonas was kind enough to provide an answer. “He can’t handle the fact he wants to handle Aleksi.”

“Ah. Sure,” Joel shrugged and turned his focus back to his guitar.

Olli rolled his eyes but stayed put against his friend. “Thanks, Porko, that’s exactly how I would have put it myself.”

“Tell me I’m wrong, though,” Joonas patted Olli’s thigh. “But honestly speaking, I don’t understand why you two still keep playing cat and mouse. Even my mom wondered the other day why you’re not already official.”

“Oh god, is that why my mom texted me the other day asking if I have something to tell her? Porko, what the fuck, argh!” Olli whined, hiding his face with his hands again.

“I didn’t tell her anything, I swear, I can’t help she’s nosy!”

“Wait, is that why my mom texted me the other day complaining how she’s always the last one to know about everything? She seemed proper pissed,” Tommi frowned, causing Olli to groan some more.

“If it helps at all, my mom’s not interested in your marital status whatsoever,” Joel commented. “Although she did ask me when you’ll be moving to Helsinki. Didn’t really understand what she was on about so I told her to ask you.”

“Wonderful, so now all your mothers are after me? Has anyone called Niko’s mom yet?” Olli sat up and spread his arms, exasperated.

“Called my mom about what?” Niko peeked his head from behind the studio door, making the four of them jump. Less of a surprise were Joonas’ quick wits that came up with a comeback not a second later.

“About his son being a fine piece of ass. Someone ought to let her know,” Joonas said and puckered his lips to make kissy sounds at Niko’s direction. Niko walked over and ruffled Joonas’ already messy hair, Aleksi following right at his heels, looking at everything and everyone except Olli before finding his seat by the mixing table. If Olli wasn’t tormented by all the anticipation and uncertainty before, he was now so deep in damnation that even the ruler of the Underworld would have taken pity on his sorry soul.

A moment later, his misery was relieved a little when Aleksi’s eyes finally found his from behind his black hair when Olli stood up to grab his bass and go to the recording room. It was just the briefest of glances, fortified with a tiny smile, but in that moment it meant the world to Olli, giving him just the right kind of inspiration to put his everything to his final tracks.

~

Aleksi could not stop marveling at what an amazing job Olli had done with his instrument. His parts neared perfection, and this time he had almost remembered to unmute the thing on his first try which, by Olli’s standards, was a definite advancement. However, Aleksi would lie if the mishap hadn’t made the man only more lovable in his eyes; the embarrassed smile and the slight blush looked sinfully good on him. Similarly, Aleksi had nothing to complain about when half an hour after Olli had successfully wrapped his part, he was still chuckling to himself and hiding his face on the front of Aleksi’s hoodie, mumbling about what a dumbass he was.

“You’re not a dumbass,” Aleksi consoled him, petting his soft hair. They had spread themselves on the sofa, which was enough intimacy for Aleksi to consciously having to keep his mind from wandering to irrelevant details, such as Olli’s lower stomach pressed against his crotch or Olli’s hands moving slowly on Aleksi’s chest, frustratingly so.

“He’s a little bit of a dumbass,” Joonas remarked from the squeaky office chair, spinning on it back and forth.

“You heard him!”, Olli revealed his face to Aleksi as he set his chin on Aleksi’s chest. All of a sudden his face was only a few inches from Aleksi’s, and the view made Aleksi hold his breath.

What’s worse, he could feel it having the same effect on Olli, his body going completely still against Aleksi’s own.

Then, Niko’s suspiciously loud voice broke the tension that had suddenly settled in the room.

“So, umm, that problem with your car, Tommi, did you wanna go us have a look at it now?”

“What prob– ow!” Tommi cried when Niko elbowed him.

“You know, the problem with the, umm,” Niko said, pausing to nod towards Aleksi and Olli, and not particularly discreetly, “the...umm, the…”

“Cylinder,” Joonas whispered to him, even less subtle in his efforts.

“Yes, the cylinder!”

“Ooohh, that problem,” Tommi nodded. Had Aleksi’s hands not been so comfortable buried in Olli’s hair, he would have facepalmed himself, for Niko’s “mastermind plan”, as he had called it in the car, was an even more transparent scheme than he had expected. He could not imagine a less convincing excuse to go outside than helping Tommi with a car issue; if you were to ever go near the hood of Tommi’s beloved Peugeot, you were either extremely brave, extremely stupid, or downright suicidal.

“We better go at once, and Joel should come too, in case we need to tow it to the carage,” Joonas contributed. Joel said nothing, but the raise of his eyebrow indicated he wasn’t completely following. Still, Aleksi appreciated it when he, too, put down his guitar and followed the others outside.

Once the loud chatter disappeared behind the door, Aleksi looked at Olli, whose face was as puzzled and amused as Aleksi’s own probably was. Then they burst into giggles, Olli burying his face against Aleksi’s chest again. He could feel the vibrations of Olli’s body, the body Aleksi was desperate to feel closer to his, even though Olli wasliterally lying on top of him.

When the laughter died, Olli shuffled further up and tilted his head so that his cheek was on Aleksi’s collarbone, his nose blowing calm breaths on his neck. Olli’s fingers travelled up Aleksi’s chest again, stopping right by the neckline and poking at the drawstrings of his hood.

“You’re cute,” Aleksi blurted out as he looked down at Olli, who was seemingly preoccupied with his important task of fumbling with the details of Aleksi’s sweater.

The unscheduled announcement made Olli abandon his work and lift his head. His mouth was partly open and his eyes blinking softly, and Aleksi found it incredibly hard to restrain himself from giving in at last and kissing him.

“You’re cute too,” Olli said and bit his lip, as if just his smile wasn’t enough to send Aleksi to nirvana. Aleksi could barely hearhis own thoughts from the thumping inside his chest, each beat voicing a rhythmic Olli, Olli, Olli, but miraculously he managed to persuade his brain to form intelligible words.

“Do you wanna go out?”

Olli blinked at him a couple of times. Mentally, Aleksi slapped himself.

Thanks, brain, knew I could count on you.

“Like… to look at Tommi’s car or–“

“With me,” Aleksi cut him short. “Do you wanna go out with me?”

Olli kept blinking his long lashes, mouth shaping a small O.

“As in, on a date,” Aleksi elaborated, just to make sure Olli wouldn’t think he was asking Olli to join him on the balcony to get some fresh air and wonder about the weather.

There were a few more soft blinks before Olli burst into a series of quiet giggles against Aleksi’s chest. Having collected himself relatively soon, he touched Aleksi’s neck with his hand and brought his face so close that Aleksi thought he was gonna pass out from the sheer beauty of Olli’s eyes, staring right into Aleksi’s soul that humbly wished it had found its counterpart.

“Yes,” Olli answered. On some level, Aleksi had known he would, but still the relief of finally hearing itwashed over him like a tornado, fast and thoroughly.

“But just so you know, I don’t kiss on the first date,” Olli said, and suddenly Aleksi felt like the whirlwind of emotions had taken everything with it.

“Oh,” hemanaged to say. “That’s–“

“Which is why I suggest we do it now, so that I won’t have to give up my principles.”

The addition made Aleksi exhale and chuckle silently. He wondered how he had ever fallenfor this absolutedoofus of a man, but at the same time, he couldn’t name a single reason why he shouldn’t have.

“Well, I’d hate for you to loosen your morals.”

Aleksi heard a few warm giggles before Olli closed the gap between their mouths.

The sensation was everything Aleksi had imagined in his lovelorn daydreams, yet nothing like he could ever have expected. Their lips and tongues worked together so seamlessly that it was hard to believe they were sharing their very first kiss. In Aleksi’s mind they had, of course, done this multiple times in a range of scenarios, but now that Olli was finally kissing him for real, all of that seemed like a huge waste of time; dream-Olli sure was lovely, but he did not even begin to compare to the one sucking on Aleksi’s bottom lip right now, grinding his body against Aleksi’s.

Aleksi could not stop himself, nor did Olli for that matter, when his hands slid under Olli’s shirt, stroking his back muscles while Olli’s hands roamed Aleksi’s chest. Heat started building up in Aleksi’s lower stomach as their movements grew more erratic, their kisses more sloppy, and breathing seemed like a secondary chore that had to make room for shaky laughs and barely audible moans.

How far they would have gone, they’d never know, as the opening of the door make them drop what they were about to do and bolt up from the sofa.

“Oh, shit, sorry, we thought you’d be done by now.” Joonas’ head appeared from behind the door. “Carry on,” he winked and closed the door again.

Laughing at the absurdity of it all, Aleksi and Olli fell into another embrace, one that was a little less lustful than the one they had shared on the sofa, although their hearts were still racing and their cheeks coloured by a healthy shade of red.

Aleksi stole another kiss, reveling in the fact he could nowdo so whenever he wanted. Sighing into the kiss, he let his lips stay on Olli’s for as long as it felt comfortable, which would have easily been for the whole eternity.

[depressedacadamia]

Dimples

Summary: Apparently Nico has dimples and Will did not know.

A/N: Heheheee, motherfuckers my exams are in a week and a half and I haven't revised shit. Instead, I'm writing these. Wish me luck, this might be the only fic I post for the next 2 weeks but if you're lucky, I might post pt 2 for 'How to passive aggressively say Fuck you in flower'. Toodle pip and <3 from mee!

Extra edit: I forgot it was solangelo week, woops. 

Read on A03

Nico Di Angelo was not known for smiling. He was not known for grinning or laughing. He was however, known for snarling, sarcastic, outdated remarks and terrifying people to the point where they’d rather face death itself than face him and his wrath.

So of course, Percy and every logical being would avoid him at all costs when he was in one of his ‘moods’. These so-called ‘moods’ referred to when Nico seemed particularly dangerous, like when his eyes had a dangerous glower to them that hinted he enjoyed threatening others a tad too much- in fact, so much so that Leo had suggested that Nico may be a sadist (That hadn’t gone well for Leo, to say the very least).

But of course, William Andrew Solace was in no way a logical being nor was he very fearful of Nico’s alternating and very much violent auras. Now, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing necessarily, in fact, it was the very thing that had started their relationship and while everybody thought Will was insensitive with his historical jokes he made towards Nico, Nico greatly appreciated being able to understand something from his time.

Will, on several occasions, related him to Captain America in Marvel's Avengers.

So when Nico, in his terrifying rage, stormed into the infirmary, Percy wasn’t sure what he was about to witness. Were these two having an argument? Nico looked like he was going to set the infirmary ablaze or perhaps bury it 6 feet under- it was truly the unpredictability that created the suspense and fear.

“Where are they?” Nico’s voice was calm, cold but sharp. His words felt like the gentle, smooth slant of a knife, apply pressure and you get cut. Nobody dared to answer. The infirmary’s silence seemed like one of lambs, too scared to speak out until another leader did. Whether they expected Nico to simply leave if no one answered, they certainly did not expect him to ask again.

“Where. Are. They?” He punctuated his words, his voice combined with a deadly hunger that could only be satisfied with death.

The room felt like a cave. The only words being echoed back were Nico’s own words, bouncing off the smooth walls of the infirmary. The corners seemed dark, the white presence of the infirmary slowly being poisoned. It seemed like fate sealed their hands- they were like lambs to the slaughter: helpless.

“WHERE ARE THEY!” Nico roared. This time, he did not wait for a response. He took a small glimpse at the camper in front of him, who was obviously avoiding his gaze, and the next thing the kid knew was that he was pinned to the wall with a metre of stygian iron under his neck. The kid hyperventilated and in a moment of sheer panic and pure fear, blurted,

“I don’t know where they are! “

Nico, holding the camper up with one hand, shoved him into the wall again. “ But you hurt them anyway?”

The camper was completely clueless but he wasn’t stupid. Simply denying whatever Nico was accusing him of would increase Nico’s rage and that could lead everyone down a very dark road.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt them! I swear...” He started to sob. “ I swear it was an accident!”

“You hurt them! That isn’t an accident. You will pay for your crimes. I swear I will-”

“-Dear god, Nico what the hell?” A voice of pure confusion entered the infirmary. Nico, on recognising the voice, felt his head snap backwards-trying to find the course of the voice. There on the other side of the infirmary, with his leg in a cast, stood Will solace, still as unfashionable as ever.

Nico almost teleported to Will, considering how fast he appeared by his side. “ Are you okay? It’s okay, I found out who did it and-”

“-Jesus, Stalin, calm down there.” Will looked at the terrified boy who was in tears. “This kid knows nothing. He wasn’t even there. Were you just putting on some show trials?”

Nico had to resist the twitch in his lips at the communism jokes. Ever since Will had found out that Nico’s weakness was communism jokes, he had been exploiting it, just like the working class were exploited, and using it to his own advantage.

“Wait, this kid wasn’t involved?” Nico looked at all the terrified people in the infirmary, still frozen to their spots, waiting for the go sign for them to continue with their lives.

Will waved his hand. “Go ahead, continue with your business. He will be on his best behaviour now that I’m here.”

“Uh, says who?”

“Says my broken leg.”

On the mention of a broken leg, Nico’s worry instantly returned. His hand reached out to touch Will’s face, in a gesture of affection before quickly snatching it away. Will reached for his hand, took it in his own and intertwined their fingers as in to say It’s okay, they support us. It’s okay, I love you and you love me. It’s okay, I’m not ashamed of being in love with you.

Nico appreciated the gesture and once again, fought the urge to give in to the overwhelming desire to smile at his perfect boyfriend.

“Are you okay? Can you show me your leg? What happened? Why can’t you heal it?” The words began flying out of Nico’s mouth, the concern on his face unhideable. His eyebrows were cutely creased together and he kept on placing his hands all over Will- it was driving him crazy.

“Calm down there, communist. This is my injury, not yours.” Will joked, trying to hide his blush- truth be told, he did not want to tell Nico the real reason behind how he broke his leg because it was honestly the most ridiculous reason one may ever hear in their entire life.

Nico let out a little snort of laughter after hearing another communist joke but was careful to keep it on the downlow. He noticed that Will was being quite indirect and avoiding his gaze: he knew that could only mean one thing.

“What did you do to break your leg?” Nico smirked wickedly, understanding that Will had, once again, been quite idiotic.

Will, gasping in mock offense but also quite embarrassed by how well his own boyfriend knew him, let out a bubble of nervous daughter. “ Hahaa, what do you mean? I broke my leg the same way everyone else does...”

“... which is?”

Due to the vast amount of broken legs he had healed, Will actually knew how to answer this question. “ Through sports.”

“Sports?” Nico snorted. “ You? Sports? Have you ever even run in your entire life? I swear the only thing you do is heal and read. Maybe sleep on the offhand you listen to me.”

“You can’t talk over there!”

“Just tell me how you broke your leg, for the love of the Gods!”

“I was having a competition with Percy for who could heal faster.”

“You were doing what?”

“A competition Nico, have you ever heard of one? Normally the losers forget they exist so I wouldn't be surprised that you had never heard of one-”

“No, I know what a competition is, you idiot. What I don't know is, why on earth you were having a regeneration competition with Percy of all the demigods you could have chosen, you chose the one with the ability to heal themselves as well?”

Will pouted slightly, his eyebrows making a small frown. “I would have thought you would be halfway through murdering Percy right about now.”

“If Percy managed to win, then honestly, you kinda deserved it.”

“I thought you liked me!”

“I thought my boyfriend wasn’t an idiot!”

“Technically I won because Percy was too baby-ish to break his own leg!”

Nico took a very long pause. Slowly, he began shaking his head, from side to side. The expression on his face was illegible but eventually it morphed into one of laughter. His laugh was rich and so was the expression on his face. His lips were curled upwards, his eyes were creasing, with long beautiful dimples on both sides of his face- as clear as the moon on a clear night.

The infirmary was silent. They simply stared at the beautiful angel who graced the place with their voice. They were horrified and in awe. Nico Di Angelo was capable of smiling! He was capable of laughing!

It was a fucking miracle.

“What did I tell you!” Percy yelled, throwing his arm over Annabeth who simply sighed. “I fucking told you! I knew he had dimples!”

Will, slightly stunned, simply took Nico’s face in both his hands. His crystal blue eyes were wide open and to Nico it looked like the ocean was inviting him to take a dive into int’s complex and unknown depths.

Into the unknooooowwwwwnnnnnn.

He cursed himself for that being his first thought. He then cursed Will for making him watch Frozen because it was apparently culturally inappropriate to not have seen it. Then he cursed himself again for cursing Will.

“Holy shit,” Will whispered as he stared into his boyfriends grinning face. “Holy fuck Nico, you never told me you had dimples.”

“Language.”

“Holy shit, holy fucking hell. You cannot smile at me like that Nicolo Di Angelo and expect me to keep my language appropriate. Have you ever seen yourself in a mirror?”

“Calm down,” Nico groaned, throwing his head backwards. He could feel his palms getting sweaty from Will’s words- what could he say, he was slightly embarrassed.

“Wait!” Will cried. “ Do it again. Smile again!”

Nico gave a sultry smirk and Will whacked his arm. “ I asked you to smile at me, not seduce me. Smile!”

“Who wouldn't be happy to be seduced by me?”

“Just smile, please!”

Nico sighed before looking at his gorgeous boyfriend. His eyes darted down at the cast around the leg and immediately Nico remembered the cause of injury. He started laughing, his lips stretching into a genuine smile and his dimples flashing all across his face. Will, still holding his boyfriend's face, couldn’t help himself as he brought their lips together.

Will was so used to feeling Nico’s smile when they kissed so when he brought their lips together, he didn't know what he was expecting. It felt different for some reason, it felt more.. It felt better, it felt like he was getting a new piece of Nico. Feeling Nico smile and seeing him smile were two different things and now that he could picture Nico’s smile as he kissed his smiling lips, Will thought he’d explode from happiness.

Will pulled away quickly, his hand still cemented to Nico’s grinning face. He had pulled away just so he could see Nico’s smile and more importantly his dimples again.

“What?” Nico’s innocent voice and grin combined confirmed for Will that if he died on that very spot, he would have died a happy man.

“Holy shit, you’re the cutest person ever.”

And with that, he brought their lips together again.

Neither of them noticed Thalia and Annabeth sulking as they paid up their debts to Percy from losing the bet.

[shinygoku]

gordon gordon gordon gordon

Gordon Gordon Gordon Gordon!!

He's been sneaking into these asks by proxy, so it's finally time for his dedicated session, hehe~

First impression

WUAAAGH what's up with this WEIRD LONG NOT-THOMAS and his FACE?!

Impression now

His face is still pretty weird! But you know what else it is? Part of an Absolute Legend ✨

Like, man, Gordon is such a big presence and interesting character, the entire premise leans heavily on him. I'm inclined to go as far as to say that the Blue Boys of 1, 2 and 4 here are the three most important characters for the franchise (not at all to knock everyone else lmao) and they slot nicely into a Triforce of Courage, Wisdom and Power, and Gordon has Power in spades!

Gordon is The Vain One (not James!). He's legit very strong and the fastest on Sodor (which isn't just being a big fish in a small pond because that island has some crazy cool engines!) but unfortunately he lacks humility. His success seems to have been lodged in his head before the series even begins and this Pride is the source of pretty much every single conflict he's involved in.

But when it isn't his self satisfaction in his actions, it's being smug about being such a grand, magnificent Tender Engine and he is snooty as hell about it. He seems to look at smaller engines [pretty much everyone compared to him lol] as a lesser class, particularly if they're small and cheeky and Tank Engines. This may not be the case exactly, but his way of talking to them and some other things he says are very condescending.

However... as much as a gigantic jerk he is at several points, with Gordon I kinda feel like he plain ass doesn't conceive of his words being out of line. That and having to Unlearn things... he's not innately better than everyone else. He sees things in black and white. There are Useful Engines, and those who should be scrapped. There are Noble Tender Engines and Lesser Tank Engines who exist to do the tedious chores on behalf of the Superior ones. Edward doing shunting is seen as Demeaning and contradicts Gordon’s world view that Tender Engines Don't Stunt™, and he doesn't like that one bit! (Also Edward was crossing the picket line but that wasn't Awdry's concern lmao)

Related is Gordon does seem oddly dense at times, like assuming that Tenders are in of themselves a Status Symbol rather than a large lunchbox of sorts lol, or that Tender Engines like him being too heavy for Branch Lines being because something about Branch Lines are degrading. This might be all Elitist Brainwashing influence. But still, that he just takes these as The Truth means I get to affectionately call him an idiot. And there is no other way to explain how he genuinely believes Bill and Ben were going to murder him if he wasn't missing a few brain bolts in there.

Fortunately, he does eventually start to learn the important lessons.... very gradually, but the Early Gordon is a pretty different beast to Later Gordon, and it's wonderful~

Also, I gotta give credit to him for having some moments of utter brilliance and actual grasp of reality and more complex matters, like culture. (Yeah, I'm rolling with his geniune Opera Knowledge from s6 of all things. It's good!) As much as Awdry himself may have disagreed, Gordon was in the right to want a Station Pilot and the Strike was called for (not bullying Edward for it, but myeah) ...but this leads to my next point: He seems to have a mental block when it comes to Emotions.

Certainly, he's as emotional as the others are, it's not just a scale of Snooty, Arrogant, Condescending, Prideful ....well, it is, but ALSO the more mixed and varied feelings: Shame, Sadness, Fear, Ambivilance, Irritation, Anger, Passion, Amused, Delight and so on. However, Gordon is seemingly unaware of how his words may make the others feel, and even at his cruellest it doesn't look like he's aware he's twisting a knife in. To Gordon, he's being honest, but his verbose manner ends up twisting and wriggling away from any valid point like an overgrown vine that somehow links back to how [Other Engine] is disgracing him, Gordon, by association.

Examples include: Being offended by Henry's new shape (??? Gordon dude he nearly died and this is an improvement, a good thing!), saying that Edward's age and difficulty starting a heavy ass packed load of passengers is grounds to be Retired or even Scrapped, other little insulting things like calling the likes of Thomas and James Little insistently (it seems to vary if he's trying to put them down or actually be affectionate), and many more when in the hands of inept writers who have to wheel out the same Gordon Learns A Lesson Plot every other season.

Like I said in the James post, I also think he kinda poisoned the Red guy with his snooty attitude... but I maintain that I think Gordon was unaware of this. He may know he has Influence, and enjoy that, but he really truly doesn't appear to mean to mould James into a smaller, redder version of himself. He's oblivious and from his own point of view, benevolent. Which is in fact a dangerous combo indeed!

It's... a lot o7;;

Again though, if you're looking at the books and s1-s5 of TVS you can see him grow and change. He does take a while to learn the lessons, but as time goes on he moves 2 steps forward and 1 step back, then eventually less steps back entirely. It's great! And so is Gordon. A big dumb meathead with not entirely uncalled for delusions of granduer. A dramatic so-and-so who is the best engine for his job.

I love this sophisticated jock who grows more kindness~ 💙

Favourite moment

Hm! This isn't as easy to decide lol. We all like Gordon Goes Foreign... but you know what sticks in my mind more?

hOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH

Look, I’m not 100% objective, here! But Ringo’s read of this line is fantastic (and keeps making me expect him to finish saying OOOHH SHIT) and it’s also a well deserved bolt of divine retribution for how rude he was being earlier. (As long as my essay already was, he very much needed the knocking down of some pegs here!)

Idea for a story

While both my fics with him thus far have been variations of Pre-Canon, Full-Arrogance and Snobbish Gordon (and both were a lot of fun!) ...but I cannot bear the same expired horse being beaten more when the story is set waaay later but he’s still up his own ass. Please, PLEASE writers, let him hold what growth he’s managed to gain!

I think it’d be good to accept that he’s gonna be outdated sooner or later, so have him help train another High Speed Engine and take them under his wing. The Christopher Awdry books kinda have something similar with Pip and Emma, but I think a better way of having Gordon be involved would be if he was actively doing some mentoring himself, as well as being a neat parallel with Edward, whose type was once Express only but got outclassed by A1s, and so the same can happen to this big A1 -> A3 lad and he can form a healthy relationship with some bright eyed newbie (and maybe have some self awareness and try to stop their head getting too large, lol).

Unpopular opinion

I know I just said him mentoring would be a cool story idea, but in canon? He is NOT a resident Dad type!! He’s a hotshot young man but he’s also a hot mess. He’s physically large but he’s not got the Energy of someone who dispenses sage advice and a shoulder to cry on. At best, he’s a weird uncle! One who means well but you shouldn’t take his life advice to heart because he’s actually just as, if not more clueless than you!

Favourite relationship

I feel inclined to say Thomas here. Emphatically not because Gordon is ‘old’ and Thomas is ‘young’, but because they’re so damn alike and actually make an excellent, albeit unconventional type of Rivalry.

Both are self important with genuine finesse in their respective talents, both are honest to a fault, both have redeeming qualities to offset their initial abrasiveness, and the first TVS episode is centred on the both of them and sets the tone for the series as a whole. There’s more parallels, of course, but I also wanna point out they’re effectively the mascots of North Western Rail in universe too, and I absolutely love this picture:

I also have immense fondness for the Down the Mine paradigm shift! Thomas gives Gordon grief over the ditch incident and later when it emerges the Fat Controller is gonna send for Gordon to pull him out, Thomas is filled with dread. But Gordon isn’t using the chance to lord over Thomas, he’s actually so amused by Thomas’ mishap and it coming at a time where he’s been significantly humbled, they instead become Comrades and I love it. I eat it up! Paint Pots and Queens isn’t anywhere near as good but I adore the little bit where they’re appealing for the other, equals and watching each other’s back~

But yeah, as Friendly Rivals they both feel very authentic and yet, in a daft way, sweet ;3

Favourite headcanon

He still says “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” when pulling the Express. That’s a HC as I think the show phased it out, but I like it lol. I feel like my essay on him contains most of the headcanon stuff, but it’s all based on what’s shown, baybee!

[shinysobi]

i came in from the outside, burnt out from the joyride

this was born out of a conversation with @akinosakiya, so all credits go to her >.<

chapter i | chapter 2 (coming soon)

Han Joon Hwi and Kang Sol, years after graduation. post-canon fix it, idiots to lovers.

ao3

a/n : i got this idea as i feverishly dm'd my friend about a solhwi prompt,,, i took it too far i think >.<

please tell me if you like it!!

a/n: title taken from Hozier's Almost (sweet music) which i recommend while reading this.

chapter 1: you and i are lovers in the dark

There has got to be another way of doing this. I can’t be doing this all my life.

“You know,” the words from Yeseul makes her look up, “you didn’t have to do this to yourself. You could have not taken the case, eonni. I told you not to take the case.”

Sol doesn’t say anything, just hangs her head in shame. The soju burns as she tips her head back, draining the last dregs of it, “I knew I shouldn’t have asked you for help. You’re being insufferable now that you’re dating Bok-gi.”

Yeseul laughs, reaching for the soda can, “eonni, I think you’re thinking about it too much.”

“I am, aren’t I?” she looks at the other girl, clearly panicked, “does it show? Oh, it shows, doesn’t it? Oh, what am I going to do—”

“Ah, noona, you shouldn’t have taken this case on, then,” Bok-gi says as he enters the room and take in the sight of a dishevelled Sol and a grinning Yeseul, “oh, Yeseul noona, I was looking all over for you!”

Sol scowls, “haven’t the two of you been dating forever? Why do you still have the honorific? And for your information, I took the case before I knew it was going to be him that I would have to go up against.”

Bok-gi looks affronted, and Yeseul comes to her boyfriend’s rescue, “ah, I like it, eonni.”

“Of course, you like it, you’re just as gone for him as he is,” she grumbles, “so, Bok-gi, Yeseul’s been telling you everything now, has she?”

“Ah, eonni, leave him out of it,” Yeseul soothes her, rubbing circles into her back, “do you want me to take the case? Instead of you—”

“The client won’t agree on it,” Sol whines, “and just when I thought I had got rid of him.”

“Rid of who?” so Bok-gi doesn’t know, Sol notes with some amount of pleasure, good. At least Yeseul didn’t tell him about the fact that—

“Oh, eonni might have to work with Joon-hwi oppa,” Yeseul chirps, looking entirely too pleased for Sol’s liking, “she’s the public defender for Joon-hwi oppa’s case.”

“The attempted murder one?” Bok-gi sounds as perplexed as Sol is, “but I thought hyung only dealt with financial cases, what happened? Didn’t you say you had some other prosecutor to deal with, noona?”

Sol groans, “apparently he’s taking criminal cases too, and the first one he chose to take was mine,” she stands up, “can’t I ever get rid of him?”

Yeseul blinks, “why did you have to get rid of him in the first place?”

Sol groans, sitting down on the chair with a thump. This was becoming a frighteningly regular occurrence, groaning at the mere mention of his name, “I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”

“You sound like a sixteen-year-old right now, noona,” Bok-gi giggles, and she scowls at him. How dare they find happiness in my misery. Just because she loved them didn’t mean she would put up with everything that they did.

Liar. You’ll always put up with whatever they do.

Wait, why did that sound like him? Did he finally manage to get inside her head?

No. no, calm down, Kang Sol. Joon-Hwi is not inside your brain. Your brain is filled with statutes of law, precedents, your grocery list, the things you need to buy Byeol for her birthday—

You have too many things on your mind.

Ah, fuck.

She stands up again, taking a look at Bok-gi and Yeseul’s surprised faces, and sits back down, “never mind. It’s just him. how bad could it be? We just lost touch over the years, and I specifically made sure to not keep in touch with him after we graduated—I’m going to die, Yeseul-ah.”

“No, eonni, you won’t,” Yeseul props her up gently, pushing the bowl of bibimbap towards her, “at least eat something before you cry.”

“No, you’re right,” Bok-gi agrees, although Sol knows he’s laughing at her internally, the little shit, “it’s wrong to cry and not eat. I’ll be dehydrated.”

The food tastes bland in her mouth, although she knows she’s made it spicy, but Sol works her way through it with tears in her eyes (she passes it off as due to the spice) and promptly starts sobbing again, lamenting her crappy life.

“Eonni, the trial isn’t until next month, you have enough time to prepare,” Yeseul tries to placate her, but it only increases the volume of her groans.  A whole month spent dreading the presence of Han Joon-Hwi as she prepared for the trial. “You’ll win it, right?”

There. That was what had been bugging her. The fact that he hadn’t lost a single case since he’d become prosecutor. It isn’t like she hadn’t expected this from him, coming first in her class, but—

“Is this even fair?” she wails, “the attempted murder case doesn’t even have to have him as the prosecutor, it is going to be easy for me to win, the client was framed, and there is no evidence—”

“Noona,” Bok-gi peers at her, his eyes going wide, “you’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Ah, it isn’t like that!” she tries to defend herself. But Yeseul just stares, “fine. You caught me. I’m scared of losing to him, he hasn’t even lost a single case since he made prosecutor, he’s on his way to becoming head prosecutor in less than a decade, and I’m—I’m barely surviving as it is, so why did Attorney Geun-Tae give this case to me?”

Both Bok-gi and Yeseul look shocked, and Sol isn’t surprised. They should be. She was the one who cut off contact with Joon-Hwi after graduation, claiming he didn’t need her to weigh him down, and she was the person who did everything without a single glance backwards, so why was she being so defensive? “It’s not like I don’t want to whine all the fucking time, it’s just that—”

“Whoa, noona swears a lot when it comes to Joon-Hwi hyung, who knew.” Bok-gi says, clapping a hand over his mouth, “have you always been this way, or did this just happen after you found out that you were going up against him?”

Sol scowls, “you’ve been trying to act cute, don’t try that with me, Min Bok-gi.”

Yeseul nods at Bok-gi. Sol scowls again. Traitor.

--

The truth is, she should have known this was coming. Their field doesn’t leave much for anonymity, and even if it did, why did she think it would be so easy to avoid Joon-Hwi? The boy—sorry, man, she supposes she should give him at least that much, they were both in their thirties now—the man was everywhere, the newest rising star in the prosecution. Even her boss, the clueless Park Geun-Tae knew about it, and had requested her to work in a case against him. her, the person who barely passed her law school course at Hankuk. Who has a sister far smarter than her, better than her at all aspects, who really isn’t cut out to be in this profession, something which she’s heard all too often from everyone, and all she wants to do is yell I know, I know, she knows it all.

Which is why, when Han Joon-Hwi approached her after the graduation ceremony, a determined look on his face, she dreaded the words that would come out of his mouth, and instead chose to flee. In retrospect, it wasn’t the best decision, but Kang Sol A isn’t known for making the best decisions.

She still lives with her mother and Byeol in that same house, where Joon had once installed a CCTV camera, which Lee Man-Ho had broken with a well-aimed rock, but the camera is still there, and while Byeol is in middle school now, a big girl, who doesn’t like Sol picking her up from school every day and who is already getting into trouble with that big mouth of hers, and certainly doesn’t need protecting, the camera is still there, and every once in a while, she likes to take a look at it, sipping beer after a long day at work. It’s obviously dysfunctional, but she likes to imagine that Joon-Hwi still takes a look at the camera feed, doing whatever “top secret” things he did.

She sighs, opening the door to their home. I have work to do if I need to beat Joon-Hwi.

--

“Why was I assigned to this case?” Joon-Hwi asks, surprise evident on his face, “I usually take financial dispute cases, this is an attempted murder, and the evidence doesn’t even look solid. Why am I being given this?”

He’s speaking to the wall in his office, and his paralegals are out on break, but he feels as though he should at least vent about this to something, if not someone. He’s supposed to be a star prosecutor, someone who hasn’t lost a single case since they stepped foot into the District Prosecutor’s office. And it’s true, he hasn’t lost a single case since he began working here, spurred on by a desire to both step out from under his uncle’s shadow and to prove himself.

The cases he has handled until now, have all been financial, catching the people who use money to get their way in the world, much like Ko Hyeong-Su, people so entitled to the world that they didn’t consider the rest of them as human beings. He liked bring them down to their level. Hell, he loved it.

But his specialty is not criminal law, and that too, a case that would be difficult for him to win, given that there was very little evidence and whatever he had, would never fly in a court of law. He’s kind of pissed at Prosecutor Lee for giving him the case. No, scratch that, he is pissed at Lee for giving him the case.

Defending lawyer—

Defending lawyer, Kang Sol.

Could it be?

He turns to his computer, and contemplates for a second if he should ask the police officer about the defending counsel, but decides against it. I don’t want to seem like a fool. Which—is correct. He is a fool.

So, he calls up the person who had the case before him, Prosecutor Shin, and tries not to hide the excitement in his words when he asks, “did you meet the defence counsel when you arrested the defendant, Prosecutor?”

“She didn’t have one,” the prosecutor replies, voice scratchy, and he wonders of he did the right thing by disturbing someone who was in the hospital, “we’ve indicted her, but the defence counsel was changed at the last moment, something about the public defender dropping the case. Her new counsel is some young lawyer, although she has a lot of experience.”

A lot of experience. “A lot of experience?”

“Yes,” the voice on the other side cracks, and there’s some commotion in the background, “I remember meeting her in the courthouse once. People call her crazy, the lengths she goes to defend her clients are insane. She’s a good egg though, doesn’t take on cases that she doesn’t like.”

“Hmm, thank you, Prosecutor,” he mumbles, hanging up the phone. So that’s what you’ve been doing all this time, Kang Sol. how long has it been, four-five years? And we’ve never met once, impressive.

He’s suddenly very excited for the initial hearing, even if he knows its going to be nearly impossible to win. But at least he can see her for the first time in years, even if its on the opposite side in a court of law. At least he has that.

—

“You’re being stupid,” Jiho says without much in the way of context, but Joon knows what he’s talking about, “you had to take a case just to meet her? A case you are most likely going to lose? What kind of person does that?”

Joon-Hwi rolls his eyes. Jiho was a good man, but sometimes, he really didn’t know the reason behind things. Or to be more specific, why Joon-Hwi did some things. Still, it was understandable as to why he would behave like this. Neither of them has had any connections with each other over the past five years, missing each other by mere moments at times, and yet, he’s still enamoured by her memory, of the way she used to look at her law books and the way she used to stick her highlighters in her hair, her triumphant smile after she answered something correctly; he remembers everything, and he gets nostalgic sometimes, but such is human nature, one supposes.

“It’s been five years, hyung,” Jiho mutters, pushing the bowl of soup towards him, “isn’t it time you gave up on Sol noona?”

He raises an eyebrow, “I didn’t think you addressed anyone as noona.”

Jiho shrugs, “she’s older than me, so it’s only right. And I did work with her on a case about three—two years ago, and she’s really become good. Or is it all the experience that she has had now, working as a partner at Attorney Park Geun-Tae’s firm, which is unheard of, at her age, but she’s far more competent than him—”

He’s talking, but Joon-Hwi doesn’t register anything anymore, “you’ve worked with her? Together?”

“Hmm?” Jiho mumbles, thrown off his track, “yes, I literally just said that I did, what are you thinking about?”

“No. no, back up a little,” he insists, and Jiho’s confused expression clears when he realises what exactly is Joon-Hwi implying.

“Really? You’re jealous over the fact that I worked with Sol noona? That’s how petty you’ve become now, hyung?” Jiho rolls his eyes, and Joon has the incessant need to just—bury his face in his hands, “you could just give her a call, you know.”

He glares. Jiho nods, “guess not,” and resumes eating. He takes another look at the case file, and sets it down, proceeding to shove food into his mouth. The Japanese restaurant has good food, he does agree, but nothing beats eating too-hot ramyeon at three in the morning with your best friend after you’ve finished reviewing three lectures’ worth of notes together. Crap. He still remembers her as his best friend, even though they haven't had any contact over the past years now. Pathetic.

But self-deprecation isn’t his forte, and he shakes his head at Jiho, who’s determinedly eating, “how’s Sol B doing? Isn’t she going to be a judge?”

“She’s still practicing,” Jiho replies, “her mother wants her to be a judge, although I don’t think Sol wants to do it. She’s happy being a legal scholar. Wants to become a professor at Hankuk later on, if the constitutional law position opens up.” His face has a curiously fond look when he’s talking about her, Joon notices, or perhaps it’s a trick of the light, because Jiho straightens up, “who gave you the case, though?”

“My superior sent it to me because the prosecutor in charge had fallen ill, and had to be taken to the hospital,” Joon-Hwi replies, “it isn’t east for me to win this one, even though—”

“Even though you’ve never lost a single case?” Bok-Gi’s voice almost makes the two of them jump, and Jiho sends a well-aimed smack his way, “so you’re taking noona’s case, are you, hyung?”

Jiho snorts, “he’s losing sleep here.”

“When did I say I was losing sleep?” Joon-Hwi begins to say indignantly, but Bok-gi is still grinning as he slides in beside Jiho, “who told you that, Seo Jiho?”

Jiho doesn’t say anything, so Bok-Gi fills in for him, “hyung, you look terrible. Haven’t you been eating properly?”

Joon-Hwi squints at the other boy, how did he know I haven’t been sleeping well? Does it show on my face? Is it that bad?

“It is that bad, hyung,” Jiho pipes up, “you look like death warmed over.”

“It isn’t that bad, honestly,” Bok-gi says, and promptly shuts up under Jiho’s glare, “jeez, all right, all right, he looks bad. Very bad. Bad with a capital B.”

Joon-Hwi groans. He was supposed to have been handling another financial scam by this time, but he’s now talking to two of his classmates, preparing for a case that he was sure of losing, just to see the girl of his dreams.

Pathetic.

--

It had been two weeks since she had found out that Han Joon-Hwi was going to be the prosecutor for her newly-assigned case, and Sol already felt like she was going to drown amidst a sea of precedents, case studies, and more cases that she needed to read just once, in order to keep her client from getting a guilty verdict. She would have to work harder if she needed to beat him, and had even contemplated asking Professor Yang for help, not that the man would do anything to make her life any easier.

Instead, she settles for the next best thing, calls over Sol B and Yeseul for help, and while Sol B grumbles, Yeseul agrees enthusiastically, even offering to bring over Bok-gi for an extra pair of eyes. Not one to be outdone in anything, Sol B offered to bring over Jiho, who grumbled more than Sol B (if that was possible), but agreed to come along nevertheless, and they all sat in her tiny living room, looking as though they had lived there all their lives, and had helped her with the case, although the boys were more interested in devising ways to make Joon-Hwi lose, as Jiho put it, “noona is our best bet, and he owes me food if he loses.” No one could argue with that, honestly.

Except she feels like drowning, and the trial was only two weeks away.

Stupid Joon-Hwi. Why did he have to take my case? Why couldn’t he just remain in civil law? Why did he have to do this? Why, why, why?

She knew that she was being irrational. He didn’t have much control over the cases he was assigned to, and given the fact that the prosecutor in charge had been admitted to the hospital, she doesn’t think he had any sort of control over what cases he would be assigned to. Still.

You’re being irrational now, a voice that sounds surprisingly like Professor Yang’s pipes up in her mind, you’re being distracted right now, Kang Sol. You won’t win if you’re distracted.

Right. She turns back to her papers, trying her best to push the thoughts out of her mind.

I can’t be distracted.

—

He was distracted.

It wasn’t his fault, perhaps, but Joon-Hwi feels guilty nevertheless, especially as he stares at his two paralegals who are stuck alongside him, working into the night.

He’s been staring at the same picture for the past thirty minutes. In his mind, it qualifies as work, but what sort, he isn’t sure. It’s a picture from their graduation day, the seven of them (Seung-Jae hyung was behind the camera) and Professors Kim and Yang, Yangcrates even had a rare smile, something which he hadn’t ever imagined witnessing, at least not sober. Him with his arm around Jiho, who clearly didn’t want to be dragged into a conversation then, his attention focused on someone else. Sol B, staring straight into the camera, grinning ear to ear. Bok-gi and Ye-beom, the latter gesticulating wildly and Bok-gi just laughing at him, Yeseul with her head thrown back in laughter, and Sol—Sol was radiant, (he laughs at that, radiant, the Greek meaning fitting her like a glove, Sol, the Sun) the way she smiled at the camera, her hand held up in a peace sign. It was an imperfect picture, and he has the final, proper version hung on his living room wall, but it’s the warmest picture he has ever been in.

The trial is the next day, and he should be getting some sleep, but he finds himself staying awake even after his two paralegals have gone home, apologising profusely for leaving him alone, and then he takes out his phone, which has been blowing up with messages from Bok-gi and Jiho, asking to come out with them for dinner. He knows it’s a bad idea, that they would try and get him drunk, or worse, that he would voluntarily get drunk, and showing up hungover at the courthouse isn’t a great idea.

Except… he really wants to do so. It’s like he’s back in university again, trying to find ways to rile Kang Sol up, teasing her, to revel in the way she would get angry with him for cutting short her study times, even though she should have been in bed three hours prior. She would always look at him with that strange sort of expression in her eyes, Joon-Hwi remembers, as if she couldn’t decide whether to hit him or to just kiss him and shut him up.

His phone pings, and it’s a text from Jiho, telling him that hyung, do you want to come out for dinner? Sol’s buying.

He really shouldn’t. even if it had taken him a moment to know which Kang Sol Jiho had been talking about and even then, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat at the mention of her name, he shouldn’t.

Oi, Han Joon-Hwi, aren’t you a little too old and a little too responsible to be drinking before the day of an important trial?

The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like Sol, not Sol B—Sol A, although he doesn’t know how anyone could confuse themselves between the two—they were as different as light and day, and the one on his mind was not the one who was offering to buy him drinks and dinner. He sighs, texting Jiho a quick apology before he heads out of the office. He needs to be alone tonight, trying to get his thoughts in order before he faced Kang Sol in the courthouse the next day.

Even though he’s sure to lose, he just might win.

--

[aerois]

Remarried Empress: Sovieshu Contextualized and Navier the Unreliable Narrator (SPOILERS!)

So recently I started reading Remarried Empress on WEBTOON. Honestly the whole premise wasn’t my cup of tea and I was solely reading it because it was part of an event where I could get free coins (lol). But then... I got hooked. I got invested. Started drinking in chapters whenever and wherever I could, and even now I still crave more. I wanted Navier to have some semblance of a happy ending (and, let’s be honest, I wanted to drag that precious little bitch Trashta by her fucking hair across the yard). At first it was mostly that. Raging at Trashta and her Simperor, pondering at Heinley’s true intentions, drooling over Kaufman. 

And then, I noticed something odd. I noticed-- the strangest thing-- Sovieshu seemed to be... not as enamored with his mistress as meets the eye. And there was even some hinting that his feelings for Navier weren’t what we assumed.

I have to preface this: I don’t condone Sovieshu’s crappy actions. He’s an idiot, and acts very poorly as a husband. And there’s no excuse for cheating. Absolutely not! So I don’t want this post to come across like In Defense of Sovieshu, because it’s not. But I do think that our view, the reader’s view, of Sovieshu, is warped. And this is mainly because we see the story through Navier’s eyes of course, but we forget that every individual person is fallible. Every person, at some point, harbors false assumptions that color their concepts of truth and reality. Put shortly, Navier is human, and therefore is not a reliable narrator at some points. Especially concerning her husband. We see Sovieshu entirely through the eyes of his wronged wife in the webcomic. Pin that: in the webcomic. Did you know the webcomic is actually based on a mobile game? Yes, it is! And I downloaded it! And I’m playing it! And... I’m actually... hating Sovieshu less?????????? 

Ok, ok, put the pitchforks down! Hear me out! I’m not saying any of the stuff he did was okay! But Navier’s narration of the story paints him as this cold, detached man who grew to hate his wife so much that he flew into the arms of some hussy for warmth and then just cast his wife aside and deliberately acted like a jerk just because he wanted her to suffer.  And there’s a grain of truth to that. There are points where Sovieshu feels bitter and does or says something waspish. But it’s not as black and white as you might assume. I played the mobile game, and decided to take Sovieshu’s route out of spite. I opened this app, saw it was an otome with this garbage-fire, cheating sack of shit for a romance option and thought “Hah! The nerve. Probably some semi-abusive dirtbag route aimed to appeal to girls who like men who treat them badly. You know, that mutually abusive relationship appeal that some girls like because drama.” And I needed to rack up in-game currency anyway (it’s like usual mobile games, where when you wanna make cool choices you gotta cough up cash unless you “diamond-mine” on crappy stories to save up the meager bits of free currency the app gives you for playing) so I figured I’d blast through the Sovieshu route and skip onto my darling Kaufman in playthrough 2.

And then the smoke genuinely compelling character development got me. So I could run y’all through Navier’s version of the events, but you already know that. For Sovieshu though? Here’s the kicker: this idiot has had a raging passion for his wife slowly building up for years throughout their entire lives, and only realizes it about halfway through the events of the story. This idiot, this buffon, this absolute brain-dead dolt... didn’t even realize he was pining over his own wife until he was about to explode from the desperation from it all. God, I wish I was joking. Lemme break it down for you:

Sovieshu’s POV: He and Navier are introduced as kids and are told they’ll be married someday. Life partners. They are raised in tandem to respect and care for one another. Kinda smacks of grooming (go mom and dad!) but whatever, that’s the background. These kids are mentally regarding each other as spouses their entire conscious lives. And Sovieshu, as he grows, quickly comes to realize his intended is a selfless girl who holds everything inside. The first spark of his affection for her is wrapped in this: that Sovieshu longs for Navier to take off her “perfect princess” mask and let herself be vulnerable with him. He admires her intellingence, her grace, and her devotion to her country. He looks at her and sees someone that inspires him. He craves the opportunity to comfort and protect her. He waits, and these opportunities come in small instances. But they get older, their burdens get heavier, and like most young women, Navier gets better at pretending nothing is wrong with her and putting everyone else first. Sovieshu feels more distant from her. But that desire to break through her wall still stands.

They marry, but Navier, in her infinite wisdom, makes the assumption that this marriage is entirely political (despite...the fact... that they were raised together??? they were literally best friends their entire lives??? are y’all seeing how this could be confusing for him???) and that there are absolutely no feelings involved on Sovieshu’s side. Expect there’s that little problem. That little problem. Of Navier’s absolute inability to be vulnerable. And so she starts this marriage all Elsa-Conceal-Don’t-Feel convinced that her husband (whom she is secretly in love with, shocker) holds no warmth for her because she’s never received any from him. 

Now I’ll acknowledge that this is a two way street, where Sovieshu fails as well. Should Navier have made a mature decision and asked for love and support when she needed it? Yes. Should Sovieshu have offered anyway, despite not knowing that she wanted it at all? Yes. They’re both in the wrong here. They’re both too passive, too afraid.

So the first few years of their marriage pass by like this. And Navier kinda melts into more of a depressed state over it, while Sovieshu becomes frustrated. But he doesn’t know why. He hasn’t quite put his finger on the fact that HE’S IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE, GEE WHAT A SURPRISE BUDDY. And then... the little ingenue comes in. Trashta, with her crocodile tears, oversharing of emotions, co-dependent as all get-out. You see where I’m headed, right? It’s not just that she’s the opposite of Navier that gets Sovieshu hooked. It’s that she gives him that opportunity to unburden all this pent up romantic frustration. He can comfort, and protect, and wipe away the tears of a woman who loves him... And for a while, it’s intoxicating. That itch is finally being scratched.

Or so it seems. Because sooner or later, Sovieshu realizes that this woman is not his wife. And she’s a bit clingy, and clueless, and she’s... well, she’s not his wife. She’s not his wife. 

“Oh, dear God...” the idiot finally realizes. “I don’t want this hussy. I want my wife!” 

Ding ding ding! You did it! And it only took you--what? 20 years? After all this time, Sovieshu (and the audience playing his route) realizes. He’s not cheating because he’s bored, or because he hates his wife, or because he’s Inherently An Asshole And That’s What Assholes Do. He’s cheating because he’s using this woman as a stand-in for his wife. He’s been looking straight through this woman and seeking his wife the entire time. He’s cheating because he’s stupid and repressed and misguided and human. And again, that doesn’t excuse it. He still cheated, and that’s something he needs to spend a life-time making up for. It’s a mistake, and a big one. But it’s not fueled by a malicious hatred or a desire to hurt her. It’s fueled by confusion and fear. And, strangely enough, a desire to perform love for his wife.

So anyway, this stupid dweeb finally wakes up and realizes that no matter how much he plays around with the Town Skank, it doesn’t slate that thirst for the woman he’s spent his life growing to love. And that he actually, truly loves her to begin with. Now at this point, Navier was away travelling, doing queenly stuff. And he gets a message from a servant-- his wife is home. This boy books it. This man throws down what he’s doing, sprints across the imperial palace, to stumble at the feet of his wife; red-faced and breathless, absolutely undone. This man is screaming for his wife on the inside and now nothing he can do will quiet it. And his wife, ever the perfect pinnacle of a monarch, just raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him and wonders what’s got him in such a tizzy.

This is where the difference between the narratives hits especially hard. Navier has absolutely no clue that her husband is a hair-thin thread of self-control away from all of this just completely spilling out of him. She looks at him and sees a tormentor; someone who’s treating her like a used doll. And he sees this Goddess that’s been hiding in plain sigh the whole time. He sees his sins and repents before this, his wife, his almighty Goddess. But he doesn’t know what to do. She’s still been hurt by him, Trashta is still in their lives, and damn it all, he’s still frustrated. He still feels bitter and abandoned because even after everything, even after the years of marriage, his wife just seems so unaffected by him. This is where Navier’s “perfect queen” image that she tries so hard to curate really bites her in the ass.

These two dumbasses are hopelessly in love with each other but they’re deadlocked in an endless cycle of letting their prides get in the way. Navier doesn’t want to be vulnerable. Sovieshu doesn’t want to compromise, doesn’t know how to not lash out in anger when he’s really feeling sad. Unlike Navier, he can express emotions-- but not in a heathy way. So he says something mean, does something kinda shitty. And Navier thinks it’s because he delights in her suffering. So Sovieshu’s over here in his head like a cranky little child that’s mad at mommy because she’s on the phone, and Navier is over there in her head wondering why on earth her husband can’t notice a love that she’s never actually expressed to him. And it’s just terrible. But kind of hilarious. Mostly sad and terrible. But defintely hilarious.

To further illustrate this: even a lot of Sovieshu’s actions, for that matter, get warped by Navier’s unreliable narration. WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD. THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE! In the chapter where Trashta is stabbed, Sovieshu immediately screams for guards to surround Navier. So I’ll sum up their thought processes here.

Navier: Oh my God, I can’t believe this asshole. Calling the guards? He really fuckin thinks I did this?! Jerk! Asshole! He really thinks I’d arrange for a pregnant woman to be stabbed!! He’s probably deliberately framing me too, so he can get me out of the way and live happily ever after with her!

Sovieshu: OH MY GOD, MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE COULD GET STABBED NEXT SOMEONE HELP well actually maybe she had something to do with it? nah. prolly not. but even if she did idgaf I LOVE MY WIFE, I’LL COVER FOR YOU BABY I’LL FORGIVE WHATEVER. GUARDS, FIND WHO DID THE STABBING SO THEY DON’T STAB MY PERFECT WIFE NEXT

Like I wish I was joking, but that’s how it read. Anyway, I’m not done with the comic or the game yet. But Sovieshu’s motivations aren’t all as they seem. And while he’s not a perfect husband, he has the capacity to mature, let down his pride, and make steps toward atoning to his wife. I honestly and genuinely believe this marriage could be salvageable if they could come clean with each other. A lot of people want to root for Kaufman or Heinley, and I get it. Those two would probably treat her well. But the fact stands that these two are married, and surprisingly, they both actually still hold a spark of love for one another. If Sovieshu could genuinely repent, and demonstrate this to Navier, they would attain the happy marriage with each other that they both strive for. Anyway, I find myself surprisingly hooked on the story now that I see Sovieshu’s POV. He’s not a hero in this story by any means, but I’m somehow, against my better judgement, rooting for him. I’m rooting for him to make the right choices and repair his marriage. 

It’s a bold strategy, folks. Let’s see how it pays off.

[anomia-sama]

Akutagawa x Reader | Dark Chocolate

Pairing: Ryuunosuke Akutagawa x Reader

Warnings: Gender neutral reader (they/them), probably uncorrect english, curses, verbal aggression. 

Notes: Nobody asked for it, this Headcanon is just my way to wish you a happy St. Valentine’s Day, full of love, warmth and affection; even if you’re single, you deserve to celebrate love. Love for yourself, love for you significant others, love for your life! I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Small reminder: In Japanese tradition, only women give chocolates to men, but I wanted to write a more inclusive Headcanon, so I used Gender Neutral pronouns. There’s a huge difference between Honmei Choco and Giri Choco. The so-called Honmei choco (known as the "true feeling chocolate") is given by women to men whom they have romantic feelings for, like husbands, boyfriends or desired partners. It is a qualitatively better chocolate, and it’s generally quite expensive, but sometimes it can be home-made. The so-called Giri choco (known as "obligation chocolate") is given by women to male co-workers or friends, as a customary gift. It’s cheaper and less refined, but it’s a very apreciated symbol of respect and friendship.

◈ ━━━━━━━━  Headcanon ━━━━━━━━ ◈

Akutagawa is totally clueless about St. Valentine’s day. Seriously, he knows nothing about it! He has no idea of the cultural meanings of February 14th and he doesn’t know much about traditional gifts linked to this celebration.

First of all, he never had time to devote to such a nonsensical feast. And then, he never cared about useless things like romance and love. They’re like profanities to him. 

So, when he sees you offer him an elegant and refined dark red box full of assorted chocolate, he’s a bit confused. Like…what the hell are you doing, exactly? His deep and grey eyes sharpen in a frown, his cheek muscles unconsciously contract, but even in his confusion he looks so cute and adorable at your eyes.

He quietly stares at the box for almost five minutes, exploring every single detail of it, careful not to touch it. It’s a big and rectangular pack, he notices, closed with a thin ribbon, and he doesn’t imagine what it could contain.

It takes a while before Ryuunosuke finds the courage to look at you in the eyes and ask for clarifications. 

“What is it?”

Poor boy. It’s not his fault, he’s just a bit (a lot, actually) ignorant about certain things. 

He notices your bizarre and inexplicable look, that makes his gaze sharpen more and more by the second. His irises linger on your red cheeks, he can see how desperately you try to avoid eye contact and that makes him a little suspicious. Your entire body is shaking, it’s really a weird behavior…

“It’s a…gift. A Valentine’s gift, actually.” You try to explain, with trembling voice.

“A… what?”

Your heart beats so fast, in this moment. You don’t understand if the young man appreciates it or not, he just stands there, right in front of you, with a stern look and crossed arms. An unconquerable stronghold that turns your heart in dust every single time you’re in the same room. 

You don’t even know when you started being so attracted to him, nor when attraction became love. You really thought offer him Honmei Choco was the most natural way to express your feelings and confess to him. But…

“Chocolate, Akutagawa-san. Just chocolate.” You murmur, now embarrassed and quite in panic. You really don’t understand if he’s rejecting you or not.

Being in love with him is a daily challenge. Akutagawa is unpredictable, fierce, a broken soul… and, well, he totally lacks in social skills. You know it, you always knew it, but that doesn’t cushion the blow when it arrives.

“Are you trying to poison me or what?”

Oh god. Is he allergic or something? Does he hate chocolate? What did you do wrong?

Your eyes widen and you finally meet his gaze. He seems angry.

The truth is Akutagawa is not used to kindness. He doesn’t know what it means to receive a gift and something like pure and selfless love, so he just thinks the worst option is the most credible.

“N-No, Akutagawa-san, I could never…” 

“So is this because you failed your last mission? You really think you could corrupt me?”

His voice raises in a rough expression of anger, he makes you feel so small and defenseless. Ryuunosuke totally misunderstands your intentions, but you know you don’t deserve such a treatment, even if you love him and even if he’s your superior.

You put the box on his desk, firmly (because you’re upset, and you got the right to) but gently not to ruin it.

 “I don’t want to disrespect you, Akutagawa-san, you know, or at least you should know, how much I admire you. Think what you want about this gift, I let it here. Now excuse me, I have work to do.”

You get out of his office with fast pace, your eyes shining with tears you proudly don’t cry. 

At the door, you almost bump into Chuuya; the redhead was right there with a raised fist, ready to knock, but you barely notice him. You have rush to walk away.

“...The fuck happened?” He whsipers, following your silhouette with his eyes before enter Akutagawa’s office.

Obviously, the Port Mafia rabid dog has a terrible pout drawn on his face. He’s even more confused than he was before and now he even feels inexplicably weird. His chest is so heavy he’s not sure he can normally breath, his hands are closed in fists.

“Akutagawa.” Chuuya says. 

 “Chuuya-san.” The ravenette murmurs in response, looking at him and trying to mentally come back to his work. He has no time to think about these strange feelings, okay? He has no time to investigate why the hell he suddenly feels so bad.

“Here is a message from the Boss. He wants you to… wohoh! What do we have here?” The redhaired executive notices the box on Akutagawa’s desk and a sly smirk appears on his lips. He looks like knowing a thing or two.

“A box.” Akutagawa answers laconically. What kind of problem do they all have with boxes, today?!

“This is not just a box, man.” Chuuya seems quite intrigued and he delicately opens the box, peeking inside it. His ocean’s eyes widen a little and the older man whistles in appreciation. “My, my…”

“What?”  

“This is the most fucking expensive chocolate in town. The logo is unmistakable, it comes from a famous and refined bakery.” He explains, grinning while he crosses his arms. “From whom is it? I didn’t know you were such a successful Don Juan. No offense.”

Wait, a successful WHAT?!

Akutagawa’s pale cheeks are suddenly touched by a peach colored shade of pink but there’s something in his eyes that suggests Chuuya he not fully understand the situation. The two of them looks at each other for a while, the one with a perturbed expression, the other trying not to laugh. 

It’s Nakahara that breaks the silence: “Seriously, man. It’s St. Valentine’s Day, if you recieve such an expensive gift today, well... you know what it means, don’t you?” 

But, against Chuuya’s expectation, Ryuunosuke perseveres in his silence. The black-coated man starts feeling uncomfortable, realizing he truly has no idea of what the other executive is talking about and rapidly avoids his inquisitive gaze. Akutagawa is clueless, okay, but he’s not stupid at all. He perfectly understands he’s not perfect (someone in his past never missed a chance to remember it to him) and he can recognize his lacks.

Chuuya, on the other hand, he’s quite more understanding than other Port Mafia members, especially when it comes to emotions and feelings. No, obviously he’s not a softie, he just understands a little more human beings and their emotive nature, so when he sees how confused Akutagawa is he sighs in exasperation.

“Man, if someone gives you expensive chocolate on St. Valentine’s Day, it’s because they have feelings for you. They like you that way. It’s a way to confess and, trust me, this is clearly the chocolate box I would only give to someone I fell fucking hard for.” 

First reaction: shock!* 

To our poor Ryuunosuke it’s like receiving a punch right in the stomach. His cloudy eyes widen in surprise and he’s quite sure his not-so-stoned heart lost a beat or two. So… is this the true meaning of your gift? You were trying to confess to him? You wanted to make him feel your affection? You wanted him to feel…loved?

He hisses a curse and slowly hides his face behind his left hand. Shit. He yelled at you. He accused you, just because he never thought he deserves love and affection. 

“So? Whose heart did you broke?” Chuuya jokes, hearing Ryuunosuke swearing.

"Y/n L/n. I asked them if they were trying to corrupt me or poison me.” He admits with a gloomy and yet shocked tone. 

In his defense, he had no idea you could have feelings for him. Let’s be honest: he never cared about certain things, but he’s not blind nor deaf. You are good looking, understanding, kind, diligent, resourceful, supportive. He is...well, he’s a demon. How could he even imagine someone like you falling in love with someone like him?

Chuuya sighs again. 

“You rejected Y/n. Good fucking job, man, only an idiot like shitty Dazai could do something so stupid, you really are his worthy heir.” He says sarcastically. “They gave me chocolate too. But not such an expensive one, so I can assume their feelings are stronger then we can even imagine. Maybe you’re still in time to fix the situation. If you’re interested, of course. Are you?” 

His final question sounds definetly like an insinuation and a provocation at the same time. Akutagawa narrows his feral gaze in Chuuya’s direction, meeting his allusive smirk. 

He doesn’t say a single word. But he knows the answer. 

Later that night, you come back from your daily mission. A successful mission, you want to specify, just to prove yourself (and someone else) you don’t need to corrupt your superior, because you’re the best in your job. Failure can occur, of course, but it’s a true rarity for you. 

You just endend report to the Boss himself when you see a familiar shape standing in the corridor, next to one of the polychrome windows. 

Your steps hesitate, you’re still upset and embarassed so you’re not in the right mood to face Akutagawa again, but just a second later you see he’s holding your chocolate box. 

You just stop your walk, a couple of meters separate you from the man and despite distance you can see how nervous he is. 

“Dark chocolate.” He suddenly says. “Dark chocolate is my favourite. But I didn’t know it before tasting one of each kind in this box.”

He avoids your gaze and his words kinda hurt you. He never tasted different kind of chocolate before today?

“The box is still full. I...I thought, maybe... sharing such a good chocolate with you would be a good idea.” 

“It would be nice.” You say softly. “Dark chocolate is my favourite too.” 

Your voice is trembling again. You didn’t like at all the way he treated you some hours ago, but you can see in his gesture how hard he’s trying to remediate.

“I have to apologize.” He suddenly says, and your e/c eyes widens with emotion and surprise. You perfectly know how hard is to say sorry, for a man like him, but he did it. He really did it.

“No matter what you say, I have to.” He continues. “I just... had no idea. I’m not used to all of this, and probably I’m not wort-”

“Please, don’t say that.” You firmly interrupt him and he finally looks at you. 

“That’s not true. I made you the gift you deserve. And I...”

Now or never, Y/n. Now or never. 

“ ...If you let me, I will give you the love you deserve, too.” 

Ryuunosuke needs some time to process what you said. He stays there, his eyes in yours, incredulous. Now he feels even more guilty about the way he treated you. 

How is it possible? Even after that, you still have feelings for him? Even if he yelled at you, even if he’s nothing more than a cruel and merciless rabid dog?

The silence between the two of you is dense and heavy, but not as much as your breath. He doesn’t say a word, again, and you have no idea of what to do. You did your best, today, and more. 

But, you know, Akutagawa is not a word man. He doesn’t know well how to verbally express his feelings, he’s instinctive, a man of action.

“Can I kiss you, Y/n?” 

Honestly, he thinks it’s kinda weird to ask something like that. But Chuuya always says consent is important and Ryuunosuke is a quiet learner. He doesn’t want to desrespect you, ever again. 

You are so surprised to hear this question, and yet so happy, your eyes are filled with tears. So...does he accept your feelings? And even return them? 

You slowly nod in affirmation, walking at his direction, and just a second later you wrap your arms around his body in a strong hug he tries to return properly. He’s a bit tense and awkward, but he holds you very tight. 

And then he does it. 

He presses his lips against yours, not gently, not softly, but with the quiet and passionate desperation of someone always yerned for love.

Yes, Akutagawa is totally clueless about love, St. Valentine’s Day, affection, human feelings. Totally clueless.

But he will learn, with you by his side. He will. 

* Sorry, only Italian readers will fully understand this, but I had to.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Family (Five Hargreeves x Fem! Reader)

A/N: Hi, it's time for a ... Five Fiction, lol. Danny didn't appreciate my joke, but ok. Again this is a one shot, it's just me wanting to share my ideas, I hope you like it. - Val

Important announcement: We still have spots for you to request!

Another important thing: In this one shot, Five’s 19 years old and not 13  like in the series... 

Aaaaaand this is from season 2.

Words: 1,334

From the office of Sir Reginald Hargreeves,

To my Pursuers:

I, Reginald Hargreeves, request the pleasure of your company for a light supper on the 20th of November, 1963, at half past seven o'clock.

"Okay, we'll go," says Luther getting up from a chair.

At first, Luther didn’t want to go, but a little speech from Diego convinces him. Together with Vanya and I, we walked towards the stairs of Elliott's little apartment. Luther turns to look at me and stops me with his arm.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

I look up at him. "You just said we'll go, come on, we don't want to piss off Daddy Hargreeves!" I take another step, but again, Luther stops me.

“Y/N, I don't think you can go," he says looking at his siblings.

"Why not?"

“You're not part of the family, our father will get confused with all the info, your presence will worsen all.”

“Excuse me?" I say offended.

"What Luther is trying to say,” says Diego, approaching. "Is that, we know who we are dealing with, he’s not the best person.”

"I know that, you’ve told me repeatedly,” I roll my eyes. "Stop whining, all of you seven have powers, I'll be fine.”

"Yes, I thought that too and ended up stabbed,” he growls, “Listen, I just think it’d be dangerous,” he says unsure.

"We've been through worse things," I cross my arms.

“It's different.”

"I don't see a problem with Y/N being with us,” adds Vanya.

"Thank you!”

"Vanya has amnesia, it doesn't count," says Luther.

"What?" She complains.

"Anyway, Y/N you can't come, it’s not right.”

"Oh please, Luther, look around you, none of this is right," I complain.

He looks at me and makes a face.

"Don't make me do something that I might regret.”

“Luther," says Diego, but his brother ignores him.

"What are you planning to do, Ape brain?"

A very bad phrase towards a man with super strength to someone who has no powers. Suddenly Luther takes me by the waist and puts me on his shoulder. I try to avoid it by kicking and screaming, but obviously nothing works.

"Put me down!"

Luther takes me to the roof of Elliott's store where he has all his photography equipment, drops me to the ground and takes my arm and then handcuffs me -I did not know where those came from, and I do not want to know- one of my wrists, to a building’s pipe.

"You got to be kidding!" I screech trying to break free.

"It's for your own good," he says and returns to the building.

"Luther!" I shout. "Diego!" I wait for a few seconds without receiving an answer. "Son of a bitch…” I whisper leaning my head against the pipes.

Truth be told, this doesn't surprise me on Luther's part, but at least I thought Diego would do something.

“I'll avenge myself.”

***

While Y/N prepares her revenge on the roof, the other Hargreeves head towards the place where their father indicated.

The first to arrive is Five, who walks to the elevator and presses the correct button, but when the doors begin to close, Diego stops them. Little by little, the others arrive, but Five frowns when he does not see the girl.

“Where’s Y/N?" He asks, looking at his brothers.

"Tell him, Luther,” Diego mentions reproachfully.

"Tell me what?" says Five. "What the fuck did you do?"

"Not now, Five,” answers Luther and the elevator doors open, Five uses his powers to confront Luther.

"Tell me exactly what happened if you don't want me to use your ape hand to make a keychain.”

***

"I'm not one of the family…” I whisper through my teeth. "Stupid Luther, if it weren't for me, he'd be in a circus."

"Just when I thought you were the sane one of the team…"

I jump when I hear another voice. I turn to find Five walking towards me with his hands in his pockets.

"If you just come to tease, I'll throw you off the roof.”

"I don't think you can do much handcuffed to the pipes," He says, sitting next to me. I sigh.

We’re silent for a few seconds until Luther's words return to my mind. I look at the boy.

"Do you think I'm not part of the family?" I ask.

"You're not," He says shortly and I nod, looking down.

At this point I'm used to Five's cutting and sarcastic comments, most of the time I talk back, but what he says is true, I can't deny it and I hate that.

“I just wanted to go with them. I know that your father is something delicate and I know that he was a horrible person who did a lot of harm. I thought that, just being there as moral support, I could help somehow…”

He laughs at my words.

"Dinner would have ended very differently if you had…”

I frown.

"What happened?"

“We showed him our powers, he asked questions. Luther finally rebelled against him after being his puppet for years, Diego was traumatized by constructive criticism, Klaus acted weirder than usual, Vanya exploded the fruit, Allison used the rumor again and I- Well, I thought he could help me, but I'm still clueless.”

I analyze everything he tells me and it may sound strange, but I’m no longer surprised by the Hargreeves family reunions.

“Wow…”

“Yep," He turns to see me. "Let me help you with that…” he says lifting the handcuffs, he gets up and opens them.

I stroke my wrist as I get up.

"Come on, I've got a revenge on Luther waiting for me…” I walk up the stairs. "Diego also deserves it, he didn't do shit to help me.”

“Y/N?"

I stop and turn to see him a few feet away.

"Yes?"

"You may not be part of the family," He looks away. “But I think you are the most important person in the group."

I’m surprised at his words. Five is the least to express any feeling other than anger.

"You think?" I ask with a smile.

"Without you, we would be lost," he says, smiling a bit dryly.

"Awww, you're so sweet, Five!" He rolls his eyes and I laugh. I open my arms and nod, ”Come here…”

“Y/N,” Five complains, but I wrap him in a hug. He sighs and not long after I feel his arms on my waist, his body relaxes.

"It's just a hug, grumpy," I say over his growling. "Thank you…” I whisper as I step away, putting my hands on his shoulders. I smile and then kiss his cheek.

"Aw! Guys come here!” Klaus's voice makes us jump apart. The others follow him closely. "Luther, how can you say that she’s not in this family? She’s getting closer to being an actual sister!” He says pointing at us.

"What!?" I feel my cheeks burn and the others laugh.

"Ben says he hears wedding bells," Klaus adds, clapping his hands.

"Shut up, Klaus!" The boy and I say at the same time. I may be embarrassed right now, but I can't help but smile a little.

"Maybe I was wrong before,” says Luther and my smile disappears completely.

"Oh I'm going to show you how wrong you can be…”

"I don't like that look," Luther backs up a bit and then goes downstairs.

I laugh at his action, it’s not the first time that I carry out a promise, so I follow his steps without hurrying. When we get to the apartment, the others scatter around the place while I rejoice in Luther's agony trying to apologize.

"Who would say that such a small girl can scare someone like Luther?" Allison scoffs, then walks into the kitchen.

Then a blue light flashes behind me.

“That’s my girl…” Five whispers close to my ear and then teleports back to another location.

I feel my face burning again and I grin like an idiot, but that can wait for now.

[rugbypolycule]

take your hand in mine

pairing: itadori yuuji x fushigoro megumi

characters: itadori yuuji, fushigoro megumi, kugisaki nobara, fushiguro tsumiki (mentioned),  fushiguro toji (mentioned), gojo satoru (mentioned)

rating: general audiences, no warnings apply

words: 1968

summary: yuuji is half-decent at painting his nails for a beginner. megumi is absolutely smitten and gets pulled along for the ride. they're both in love and clueless.

or: an intimacy fic where yuuji paints megumi's nails. because those boys deserve some quiet time.

ao3 link

Itadori Yuuji isn’t someone who gets embarrassed easily. He rarely pays attention to the opinions of others, and not for a lack of caring. He has such a strong sense of self, such an unwavering faith in his own mind that criticism often flies right over his head. On anyone else, the trait would far too-closely resemble arrogance – even self-centeredness. The pink-haired boy, however, is too gentle, too empathetic and kind. His steady confidence shines in a bright halo that threatens to overwhelm even those with the strongest defenses.

In simpler, more candid terms, Fushigoro Megumi feels like he can’t breathe when Yuuji smiles. If he were more honest with himself, he’d recognise that his feelings of breathlessness aren’t reserved for Yuuji’s full-watt smile. The truth is that around Yuuji, Megumi’s lungs work overtime. He is almost constantly filled with this restless sort of energy, the urge to act. It makes his fingers itch and his pulse lurch to his throat.

It’s a cool day. It had been overcast for a while, the clouds heavy with an oncoming storm so strong it could almost be tasted. Yuuji loves days like these. The feeling of his hair standing on end, the thickness of the air around him, the velvety grey of the sky. It is the sort of day that makes you want to stay inside with lights dimmed and quiet music playing.

Yuuji finds himself in this exact position, scrolling through Pinterest on his laptop. Ever since meeting Megumi and Nobara, he had discovered a newfound love for fashion. He loved bright colours and stark geometric patterns and shiny skin and lips. It felt fresh and energising. He loved the attention to detail that went into putting together a full outfit – the studded belts, sheer scarves, painted nails.

Yuuji loved the look of nail polish. He could wear his dark uniform and still bring colour into his life, and for cheap. Plus, going shopping with Nobara was always a fun experience. She had picked out a bright purple shade for Yuuji, but he had his eyes on a bottle bursting with golden yellow. He bought them both at her loud insistence. They ate sushi that day. It was nice.

Now Yuuji sits on his bed, yellow bottle in slightly trembling hand. His nervous anticipation doesn’t come from fear that people would think he looked weird or strange; he is more worried about messing up the application and look messy, about which Nobara often complained. The concern quickly dissipates, though, making way for Yuuji’s quiet excitement as he opens the bottle.

The breaking of the seal causes a wave of fumes to fill his room. Yuuji’s nose tickles. He sneezes a few times, coming dangerously close to spilling the yellow paint everywhere. Thankfully, his reflexes are stronger than his body’s averse reaction. He slowly lifts the brush out of the bottle, taking care to wipe off the excess varnish just as Nobara had told him. With a slightly steadier hand, he begins painting his left index finger. He moves on to the next, then the next, then his right hand (which is considerably more difficult and why didn’t Nobara say anything about that?) Though he was unpracticed, he didn’t make a huge mess like he thought he would. Save for a few yellow-tinged cuticles, he had done a pretty decent job.

For a while, Yuuji just sits back and admires his work. Nobara had told him to wait no less than 15 minutes before even thinking about using his hands. Yuuji lasts 5 minutes before looking for a cooking video to pass the time. Nothing was smudged, and Yuuji quite happily sits through more than a few videos before the smell of the nail polish becomes too much for him. It had been plenty of time now, so he doesn’t worry about messing up his nails as he opens the door to his room.

He stops short as he finds Megumi on the other side of it.

If anyone asked, Megumi was just walking past Yuuji’s room for no reason. In fact, he was only going to get water, and had to pass by Yuuji’s room in order to get to the common area. The reason he stopped at his classmate’s door at all was simply to ponder the possibility of getting a snack. There was no other motive behind it.

Sadly, all his excuses do nothing to hide his deer-in-headlights expression. Before he can open his mouth in order to deny being there on purpose, a hand is thrust towards his face. Megumi flinches back in a sort of surprised confusion before realising that Yuuji has yellow fingernails.

“Do you like them?” asks Yuuji, grinning at Megumi like an expectant puppy.

Oh. There’s that hummingbird thrum in his bones again. The rapid movement of blood that makes his head light and his breath shallow. Yuuji is beautiful.

“Yeah,” Megumi tries to answer. It’s at times like these, when he’s lost for words and doesn’t know how to move his face to seem genuine, that he really appreciates Yuuji’s personality. Almost anyone else would have thought Megumi disinterested, or worse judgemental because of his monotone and lacklustre response. Thankfully, Yuuji just huffs out a laugh.

“You don’t have to sound so excited about it, Fushiguro.” He rolls his eyes, still grinning, arm still extended. “I thought you would’ve appreciated it more.”

Megumi softly bats his hand away. “I don’t ‘not appreciate it’, Itadori. It’s cool. I’m just… thinking about how it probably wouldn’t suit me.”

Megumi gets whacked on the shoulder. “Hey!” He complains as Yuuji pulls him into his room and sits him down on the bed. The nail polish smell, not having quite left the room yet, makes Megumi’s nose wrinkle up. Yuuji lets out a giggle that sounds like sunshine on skin.

“What are you doing?” Megumi almost whines as Yuuji rummages around in his closet. Yuuji turns to face him, pulling a plastic bag out with him with a flourish. His smile hasn’t left his face yet, and Megumi feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Won’t suit you? We’ll see about that,” says Yuuji, confident as always.

Megumi tries not to splutter. “Well. Yellow isn’t really my colour, Itadori.” He says his name too softly, like he always does. He tenses up and hopes Yuuji doesn’t notice.

To his almost-disappointment, Yuuji doesn’t react. Instead, he pulls out a bottle of purple nail polish and throws it towards the bed, a way too smug look on his face. Megumi wants to kiss him so badly it hurts.

“Nobara got me to buy two,” he almost sing-songs, “so now you have to let me paint yours!”

In another reality, there is a Megumi that rips his gaze away from those brown eyes and mumbles something about Yuuji not making any sense. He leaves the room with his heart intact, and goes and eats ice cream with a spoon with his wolves in the dark.

Instead, he tries desperately to stay quiet, to suppress a gasp as Yuuji grabs his hand to inspect it. Megumi blames the tightness in his ribs on his binder and toughs it out. Except Yuuji’s hand is so warm and impossibly soft and that idiot shuffles close enough that their thighs are touching and it’s all. A lot.

Yuuji is still just cradling Megumi’s hand in both his own, turning it over and staring for so long it’s as if he’s trying to commit the skin to memory. The air is still thick with an oncoming storm, but now a tentative intimacy mingles amongst the electrified atoms. Megumi doesn’t dare move or speak, as if the universe will punish him by way of Yuuji letting go of his hand. He chooses rather to count each of Yuuji’s eyelashes, watch his nostrils flare as he breathes out in quiet concentration.

“You have really pretty fingers.” Yuuji murmurs, completely unaware of how devastating it is to Megumi’s heart.

Having been abandoned by his father, not knowing his mother, and his sister being in a coma, Megumi hasn’t been a close acquaintance to touch. Hell, even when his sister wasn’t confined to a hospital bed, he was too prickly and stubborn to receive hugs most of the time. Somewhere not-so-deep down, Megumi craves touch. Sometimes, he stares at the ceiling and wonders what it could feel like to be close to someone that didn’t involve the rigidity of training or the annoyance of Gojo’s hair ruffles. To feel warm and fuzzy and for it to be because of someone else’s hands.

Yuuji’s touch, combined with his soft words of praise, are a dream come true. Megumi can only cough awkwardly and watch as Yuuji starts to coat his short nails in purple. Yuuji’s tongue is almost the same colour as his hair, and it sticks slightly out of his mouth as he works. At some point Yuuji had turned that low music back on: a steady and slow lo–fi that does nothing to calm Megumi’s racing heart.

Yuuji keeps slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth on the back of Megumi’s hand as he glides the brush against his fingernails. It’s in all ways comforting as it is maddening, and Megumi does not expect the quiet, “you take such good care of your hands,” when it comes.

Yuuji chooses that exact moment to look into Megumi’s eyes. His face is so open and earnest and it’s becoming harder and harder to keep looking back without leaning forward into his space and just…

Megumi lets out a shaky breath. “Really? Thank you,” he replies, trying to sound as casual as possible with his pulse constricting in his jaw. His mouth feels dry.

Yuuji moves swiftly onto his other hand until all that’s left is his pinky. Not wanting to repeat the slight smudges he had accidentally painted onto Megumi’s left pinky, Yuuji pulls this last finger closer to his face, his breath fanning against it and sending shivers up Megumi’s whole arm. He finishes painting the nail quickly and carefully, but doesn’t put down Megumi’s hand.

Megumi can’t help the soft gasp he lets out as he feels a feather-light kiss pressed to his wrist. It’s as if his blood sings. They observe each other quietly for several moments – taking one another in, willing the silence to never break. Yuuji eventually pulls his face away from his work, now admiring the job.

“All finished.” Yuuji’s voice isn’t loud, but it fills the room. Megumi moves on the bed, beginning to pull his hand away. Yuuji drops his wrist in favour of grabbing Megumi’s waist with both hands, eyes almost panicked.

“You can’t leave yet!” His voice doesn’t raise above the volume of the music, but his words are emphatic. Megumi is trembling in his grasp. “You have to let them dry. And since I spent all that time painting your nails for you, it’s only fair that you stay here with me while you wait.”

Megumi is about to protest, knowing his limits are close to being reached. His face is burning hot and surely visible from the mere distance Yuuji sits away. He feels fit to burst.

The sky does before he has the chance.

The first clap of thunder sounds outside, and a pitter pattering of rain begins to thrum against the window. Megumi resigns himself to this still fume-filled room. He lies down on the bed next to Itadori Yuuji, feeling everything. He doesn’t answer when Yuuji asks if he wants to watch something, nor does he pay attention to whatever the pink-haired boy pulls up on YouTube for them.

Instead, Megumi exists in a content closeness to his friend, counting his eyelashes, and feeling the heat of Yuuji’s hands on his waist.