#(taps mic) still good in AUs though

[p0mko100]

complacent - feat. itoshi rin

w/c: 2.5k

synopsis : your brother's friend, rin, comes over after a match to analyse their plays together and hang out. you're busy yelling at your teammates in-game when rin comes in to teach you how to properly aim.

info : NSFW, dom!rin x fem!reader, oneshot, brother's best friend au, smut, gamer!reader, pet names (bunny, princess, good/pretty girl), unprotected sex, slight dry humping, swearing, marking/hickeys, slightly jealous rin, feat. gamer friend!nagi

other : this is my first time uploading my fics here hehe, hope you enjoy!

"Nagi, can you properly smoke off A site for me next time?" The annoyance in your voice seethes through each word.

"M'kay but only if you properly defend the site next time" He retorts.

"Fuck you, Nagi." You sigh, "I'll be back, don't start another match without me I'm gonna get some water". Nagi hums in response as you hear the faint sounds of a Reddit storytime through your headset.

You mute your mic before standing up and stretching your legs, your whole body shaking from the sudden movement. The fabric of your t-shirt reaches your mid-thigh as you ease your body back down. The absence of shorts was so freeing, especially in the brisk afternoons of the blossoming spring season. Unfortunately, your door hinges have been broken ever since you slammed it a little too hard. So when you pull the door open wider, the brief thought of your brother and his friend coming back from their football match enters your mind. You sneak a glance from out of your room, searching for any sign that they're still here when you notice your brother's car keys missing from the bowl near the front door.

Grabbing the empty cup in your room, you step out onto the cold floor of your house with your sights on the kitchen pantry with its newly stocked snacks. With a smile creeping on your face, you open the pantry only to be greeted with… Kikkoman soy sauce and an open multi-pack of instant ramen. The disappointment bites into your stomach. ‘I’ll just steal some of his food when he comes back’ your mind is already planning what he might bring home for himself you.

Luckily, you’re prepared for your annoying brother to do annoying things. Pushing past the random assortment of ingredients and sauces you reach into the cupboard for your hidden stash. You grab your snack and turn around to refill your cup with some water when you hear a creak of the floorboards. Fuck.

Your heart picks up and your eyes follow straight to the turquoise eyes of your brother’s friend, Rin. He’s staring right at you, unsettlingly. It’s not like you guys hate each other, nor are you best friends either. He’s just someone your brother hangs out with, but this is the first time you get to really look at him.

Before, you’d just hide in your room as your brother and his friends would come over, semi-afraid of them and also wanting to give them privacy so your brother could do the same when your friends came over. You’ve seen Rin play when you’d go to your sibling’s matches and his name was often passed around as the best player on his team. However, your brother’s expression would grow stiff with a sense of rage when mentioning Rin’s plays. Jealousy, maybe? Now that he’s standing right there for you to see, you feel embarrassed in the presence of such a highly-praised player.

You dare to look up into his mosaic-like eyes and notice how expressionless he is, as if he were a living portrait. For a moment, you really thought he was inanimate until he furrowed his brows and started to watch each part of you. Analyzing each part of your body like you were prey, he stares at you with that same mundane look on his face.

You quickly turn back to the tap and fill your cup with water, now deadly aware of his stare.

“Hey.” He tries to fill the silence between you two, though his attempt yields more awkward tension than before.

“Uh, hi…”

“You’re uh… his younger sibling?” He asks as if he’s never spoken a word until today. His voice is flat but you can tell there's an air of nervousness around the two of you.

You nod as you begin to walk past him.

“Where’d he go?”

“Somewhere to get take out… I forgot where but, uh, yeah…” He trails off.

God, what is with this awkward silence?

You look back before you walk into the hallway to your room and you see him lean his back against the kitchen countertop, staring into the floor and clasping the sides of his cheekbones with his thumb and index. His dark ivy locks falling above his eyes and the way his body shapes himself against the counter - it’s all so… enamoring.

Glancing at his hand on the countertop, you can only imagine the type of training he does to get his veins running up his forearm like that. The man behind all these super goals - this was him. To avoid his eyes finding yours again, you sneak back into your room, door ajar no matter how many times you try to close it, and now you're back to the light of your monitor and the deafening sounds of the game.

--

Holy shit, she's beautiful.

Rin could barely, fucking, breathe. He knew you were pretty, but he didn't realize you were that pretty. The other members of the team would tease your brother about how they only come over to get a glance at his sister and Rin would scrunch his nose in utter repulse. How could these lukewarm losers ever think of being acknowledged by you? A goddess amongst men. He believed that when the sun hides itself behind the clouds, it's shying away from your radiance. A million lifetimes and yet you exist in his, and oh how lucky he feels to live alongside someone like you.

Almost subconsciously, he walks to your room, his head spinning with all the times your eyes have passed over him during his matches. Whenever he scored, he'd make a quick glance your way, trying to see if you were looking and he was always sourly disappointed when you would be looking at your phone or looking somewhere else. When you were looking, his heart would bounce around his ribcage and his stoic expression would melt into a small smile.

But when you were looking and cheering on for someone else's goal? He'd seethe with malice. His jaw would clench and it didn't matter who had the ball - opponent or not; he'd make sure the next goal would be his.

So, to see you stare at him with your doe eyes, was more than he could take. He watched the way your hair flowed down your scalp, the slight part in your lips, the way your t-shirt covered the parts Rin wanted most, and the scent of lavender in your hair and fresh floral notes on your skin. When his mind started to wander places elsewhere, he had to stop himself from pursuing the thought any further. He wanted so bad to hold you, right there, and feel the way you press against his body. Memorize every part of you.

Before he could process what he was doing, he was already outside your room, leaning against the doorframe. He pushes the door out so you notice him, but your focus is solely on your game. Your legs were perched on your chair and your whole face steeled with concentration. It wasn't until you died, that you noticed he'd been standing out there watching you.

--

"You suck at this game." Rin scoffs.

What is he doing here?

"And you'd be any better?" You glare back at him, but your eyes start wandering and you have to look back at your monitor before blushing at these unyielding thoughts of him.

"Let me play. You're losing anyway." He walks over to you and you begin to notice yourself critically. You begin to notice your legs being squished up against your body as you play or how your posture is harshly curved into a 'C' shape, so you straighten up and start to fiddle with your hair, desperately shaping it into something a little more presentable. Why should I care? He'd never see me like that anyway.

"Fine, one round but if you lose you owe me ice cream." You barter, he nods in response. Satisfied with this deal, you stand up from your chair and watch as he adjusts the chair for himself.

Once the next round starts, his face changes ever so slightly to concentrate on his player movements. Every swipe of the mouse and touch of the keyboard is intentional when he plays, all while being silent. You can hear Nagi through the headset impressed at, what he thinks is, your kill streak. Rin kills the last two guys in quick precise motions that the opponents begin to accuse you of cheating.

"Y/N are you seriously using Aimbot right now?" Nagi asks, dumbfounded at your sudden spike in gameplay.

Rin looks back at you with this smug, self-confident look and you roll your eyes in response.

"Here I'll show you what you're doing wrong." He pats his thigh, motioning you to sit down in his lap. Your heart starts drumming and you sit down on his left thigh. Flustered, your shaky hands grab on the mouse and keyboard to play the next round.

"Uh, is this okay?" You quietly ask, embarrassed as all hell.

"Mhm." He whispers back into your ear and you start to move around to get to a comfortable spot. Your bare thighs are touching his left leg and you can feel his chin resting above his shoulder. When the next round starts, you play as you normally do.

"Here, aim up more." Suddenly, his hand is on top of yours and he aims your crosshair upwards. He's giving you tips on how to play but all you can think about is the way his hand feels against yours. Rougher, but slender and light. He smells of fresh linen and hints of citrus, his body covering yours completely. His arms, fuck, his arms. Strong and muscular, every tendon feeling taught against his shirt. Your fragile heart could barely take it all in. He was overbearingly beautiful.

"Are you even paying attention?" He asks against your ear and you try to move your focus towards the game. His breath was hot against your skin and you tried hard not to think about what it would feel like to indulge in his lips. You find someone camping at their spawn and you shoot, just like you were told. The round ends with you killing the last enemy and you look at him and smile.

He grabs onto your waist, looks back at you, and whispers, "Good girl". His nose is pressed against yours and you're staring into each other's eyes before you move in a little bit closer to hover your lips above his. Moments pass before he hugs your waist tighter and gently places a kiss against your lips. Pure ecstasy. You'd never imagined that this would ever take place, ever - and yet here you are. Kissing Itoshi Rin. You press yourself closer to him, your arms on his shoulders and around the headrest. Permitting yourself to the delicate and slow kisses he leads with, you close your eyes to memorize each movement. You burn the feeling of his hand against your back and the other caressing your thigh into your mind.

Your body aches for him, and his does too. You bite the bottom of his lip, playfully teasing your tongue into his and you start to feel him poking against your thigh. You smile as you kiss him further and when you release your lips from his, you look at his pretty lashes flutter open when he looks back at you. Ah, fuck.

"Please" you whisper into his ear as you grind up against him a little bit more. That's all he needed to hear to slide your panties down, undo his pants and free his needy cock from his boxers.

"Ready, bunny?" He grumbles into your collarbone as you hum a response. His hands place you on top of him, the slick of your wetness and his pre-cum squeezing onto him. Rin's cock twitches as you take him in with gasps and heavy moans. He reaches inside of you, touching the insides of your walls and eagerly trembling for more. Before you can speak, he's already making quick work of your body and easing you up and down.

"Mmngh- R- Rinnie…" He grunts in response and slaps your ass, warranting a moan and for you to clench around him tighter. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other, paired with your beautiful moans were already edging Rin closer and closer.

His cock felt so good. The way it hit the right spots and the way his hands grasped at your body desperately - he made you feel like you were practically melting into him. "You-re a- all mine, okay bunny?" He teases as your pussy tightens around his length. You moan in response and kiss the side of his neck sloppily.

"Fuck, I'm- hngh, close…" He managed to pant out, exasperated by the feeling of your pussy. "Mm~ pl- please… Rin-rin… ple- ah!" He's already bouncing you faster on him, your head spinning with the way he's fucking you. He groans and marks you from your collarbones all the way down to your tits. A knot begins to tighten inside of you and your moans become more erratic and loud as he continues to fuck your insides.

"Come to me, princess." He moans and repeats against your skin and pulls you closer to feel you release against him. You're so tight and he can barely move against your grip as the both of you cum. His warm liquid fills you up, making you feel all sticky inside. "That's a good girl, hm?" He whispers between pants as he slows down and rides out both of your highs. Fuck, he felt so good.

As you begin to kiss him again, you hear your brother's car rumble into the driveway. Ah, shit. Rin rushes to kiss you one more time before sliding you off of him and replacing his cock with his fingers. Your thighs close around his hand as he reaches inside of you again.

"Rinnie- my brother's~ a- ah, he's- mmngh-" His fingers are moving inside and curling perfectly into the spot he just fucked.

"Open wide for me."

Your mouth is open with your tongue out as he places his fingers on your tongue and inside of your mouth. You lick his cum off clean and he pulls your panties back up before zipping his pants back up too. Rin grabs the tissues from your bedside table and wipes the evidence clean. He kisses your forehead and moves your shirt so your brother won't notice all the marks down your collarbone.

"Yo! What're you doing outside my sister's door?" Your brother questions with a bag of takeout in one hand.

"Watching them play that shitty game. They suck at it, by the way." His gaze lingers on you a little longer before following your brother back into his room. Your pussy is still warm and aching from what just happened and it takes a while for you to realize that your team won and Nagi's already pestering you to respond to him before he queues you two into another match.

a/n: aa this is my first time uploading smut hehe I hope you enjoyed! I'd love requests and ideas for more bllk oneshots/ff's :) I adore rin so much hehehe I hope this was enjoyable for any readers out there!

cc: @p0mko100, please do not reupload or redistribute any of my work.

[outofconcheol]

Tune In For Love (KSM x GN!Reader)

pairing: college radio host!Seungmin x co-host!reader

genres/au/rating: sfw, mostly fluff, the mildest of angst, idiots to lovers, pg

summary: When you and Seungmin come up with a crazy new idea for your radio show, a week of chaos and unspoken feelings unfolds. As you learn more about relationships, will the two of you tune in for love? Or decide to shut it down completely?

warnings: swearing, fake exes trope, a playlist of seungmin coded songs mentioned, stupid amounts of pining, mentions of relationship drama, they almost kiss, then they actually kiss, one mild (joking ) threat of violence, Jeongin being the best wingman ever, RAIN, Ningning, Joshua, Cheol, and Day6 all make cameos

word count: 2.8k

a/n: happy Seungmin day!! honestly this could have been a whole fic on its own but i'm happy with this cute little drabble! this draws some inspiration from the ex talk by rachel lynn solomon. our boy deserves all the love, i hope you enjoy!

“Okay everyone, this has been another week at The Sound FM, the university’s #1 radio station! ____ and Seungmin signing off!”

Your voice fades out to the tune of the hit that Seungmin had selected for the week, ears perking up at the rumble of the bass and the tick tick tick of the hi-hat. Another Day6 song. Congratulations this time. 

“When will you admit that you’re Day6’s number one fan?”

“When you admit that you’re their number two,” Seungmin adjusts his glasses, a devious smirk lighting up his face. 

(You were, but you would never give Seungmin the satisfaction.)

“That segment on how to deal with the stress of midterms turned out great! What should we do next?”

You fidget with your pen, tapping it against your notepad, twirling it around in your fingers, before moving to put it behind your ear–

Seungmin’s hands shoot out, fingers clasping around yours for a brief moment, and a shiver runs through you, despite the fact that it was sunny outside with not a cloud in sight.

“I had an idea, actually, well it’s not my idea, Jeongin brought it up..”

For however composed the two of you were on air, you turned into awkward rambling messes when the mics were off. It had always been like that though. You’d been hosting the show with Seungmin for the better part of a year and you still didn’t know why you felt shy around him, or why you’d barely progressed beyond simple acquaintances.

“There’s this girl that uh, he, yeah he wants to impress, so he was asking if our next segment could maybe have something to do with dating advice.” 

“That is sooo much better than the segment on recycling tips I was planning,” you nudge him, oblivious to the way his ears turn red.

“Oooh but what if we make it spicy you know? Like approach relationships from a different angle?”

“What angle?” Seungmin rubs at the back of his neck. “As far as I know, neither of us are in a relationship. I mean, right?”

“Right but no one else has to know that! What if we pretend that we’re exes, who broke up? Hindsight is always 20/20, people will eat that up!”

“I thought I was supposed to be the menace here,” Seungmin’s tone is deadpan but his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“What can I say, you’re rubbing off on me Min,” you giggle. “So, what do you say we put your charm to good use?”

“You think I’m charming ___?” 

You miss the excitement in his tone, writing it off as enthusiasm for the whole absurdity of this plan.

“Who knows, Min! Maybe we’ll even find people! This is so exciting!”

Seungmin pauses briefly, a choked sound escaping his mouth, but you think you imagine it, watching him straighten and nod.

Laughter fills the studio as you bicker back and forth about what to include and how the next week would go. It was a risk, but you hoped it would pay off — both on the airwaves and maybe even for your stagnant love life. The possibilities were endless.

“Hello, and welcome to Tune in For Love! We are your hosts, ___ and Seungmin, and for the next week we’ll be tackling all your relationship questions and concerns!”

Your voice booms into the mic, echoing throughout the tiny studio, and you take a moment to mute yourself, heart pounding in your ears. Butterflies had begun to bubble up in your chest – you were really doing this.

“You ready for this?” Seungmin’s voice knocks you out of your daze, and you look over to see his lips twist into a lazy smile, running his fingers through his hair.

Fuck. Why did that make your stomach flip-flop?

You give him a shaky nod. It was probably just the rush of trying something new, so different from what you were used to. The simultaneous thrill and terror of dipping your toes into uncharted waters. 

Seungmin unmutes the mic, his softer, more melodious voice reverberating into the windscreen. He’d make a great singer, you think. Maybe for your next segment you could convince him to croon on air.

“We’re your resident experts on dating, whether it's still in the early stages of puppy love, the cool cruising of the honeymoon phase, or the bitter sting of love gone wrong. We have all your answers, right here, right now on The Sound FM!”

“Trust me, we’ve had experience with all of those,” you chuckle.

The story just falls off your tongue – a tumultuous end to a relationship that had never existed, one full of angst and heartbreak that even the finest writer couldn’t think of. Seungmin interrupts you spontaneously to respond to your dramatic anecdotes with dry quips of his, and you can’t believe it — you actually sound like a couple. A real couple.

“How was I supposed to know you were allergic to garlic? You let me take you to an Italian restaurant on the first date!”

“As my boyfriend, you should have asked my best friend about my allergies! That’s like standard dating protocol,” you shoot back, making sure to smile so that Seungmin knows you’re not serious.

“Noted, I’ll keep that in mind for the next relationship,” Seungmin grunts, the air becoming thick with a tension you can’t pinpoint.

Clearing your throat, your fingers hover over the buttons of the soundboard.

“How about we take some listener calls instead?”

The line crackles to life, a caller named Ningning groaning about how her girlfriend forget their anniversary and didn’t even apologize.

“It’s an honest mistake,” Seungmin mutters. 

“I don’t think so,” you counter, chewing your lip. “It’s important to be considerate of special moments like anniversaries, birthdays. It means you care. I mean Seungmin probably doesn’t even remember mine–”

“October 17th,” he interrupts you, and you go rigid. How did he even know?

I asked Jeongin, he mouths, and it only leaves you more confused. Why would he need to know that? It leaves you more embarrassed that you don’t know his exact day, only that it was sometime in September.  

Ningning rambles on, thanking you both for the added perspective and resolving to make things right with her girlfriend. You feel your heart warm at her determination, amazed at the effect that you and Seungmin had already managed to have on your listeners. 

Seungmin closes out the show, the easygoing and carefree chords of Polaroid Love ringing into the mic, and you think to yourself, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

As the sun sets, campus comes alive, buzzing with excitement. You glance out the window, watching students filter out of the library, walking towards the commons for a cup of coffee, or hugging outside their dorms. A deep pang of longing hits your gut, not sure whether its from watching them outside or the fact that you’re cramped here in the tiny studio, band posters all over the walls, and Seungmin is playing Love You For A Long Time, Maggie Rogers’ ethereal voice filling the space between you. 

“Had to ease you into our next listener call,” Seungmin grins into the mic. “This one is – ouch. It might hit home for some of us, I mean you all.”

“Hi, ___ and Seungmin? I’m Joshua, a senior. I’m calling because I have a dilemma – my best friend Seungcheol just started dating my ex, and I’m not sure how to feel. On one hand I wanna be happy for them, but on the other hand, I’m a mess. What would you do if you found out one of you was dating someone else?”

“Oh.” Seungmin breathes out, and he remains there, lips parted like he’s frozen. An awkward silence falls over the studio, and you’re sure Joshua is blinking on the other end of the line, wondering what the hell just happened.

“I’m not sure,” you shudder, thinking of the hypothetical situation. But it wasn’t so hypothetical. You and Seungmin were free to date people. There was nothing stopping you. But it still felt wrong somehow.

“I would give yourself some space, Joshua. Take time to confront your own feelings about this, and when you’re ready you can decide what to do. Let yourself heal first.”

“That’s a good answer,” Seungmin whispers, and you panic, muttering out a rushed goodbye before cutting the broadcast.

“Wow,” you sigh. “That was, I–, I guess I didn’t think of that when I suggested this.”

“Think of what?” Seungmin’s eyes glimmer with interest, and he leans in closer.

“How shit would get so deep? Like how would I actually react if that happened to me? I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Sometimes this feels almost like we’re not pretending,” Seungmin murmurs, a strained laugh escaping his throat, a mask for the change in his tone. 

You’re not sure what you want to say, but it feels like you should say something. The moment hangs heavy in between you two, and you don’t remember how Seungmin got so close, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“Seungmin, I–” 

“You had a piece of hair in your face,” he responds, straightening up to stretch his arms. “It’s late, want me to grab you an americano?”

Shaking your head, you manage to muster up a weak response, telling him to go ahead without you. He nods slightly, before throwing his jacket on and slipping out the door, leaving you alone.

An unsettling dilemma dawns on you – this was supposed to be an act, but why did it feel so real?

“You know,” Jeongin’s loud chewing echoes in the dining hall, Seungmin bristling as he watches his friend stuff five french fries into his mouth at once. “I should revoke your roommate privileges for this stunt you pulled. I thought you were grumpy before, but breaking up with ____ has taken it to a whole new level.”

Seungmin scowls, cursing under his breath at Jeongin. Yanking his headphones out of his ears, the lamenting tune of These Days by Wallows cuts off abruptly. 

Outside the rain patters, echoing his stormy emotions. Over the course of the past week, his mood had felt like he was on the world’s most nausea-inducing roller coaster ride. The highs were the times he got to spend with you in the studio, cracking jokes and watching your eyes shine as the two of you came up with the next devious plot for the show. The lows were the knot in his stomach every time someone would call in with a question that hit a little too hard.

After this week, he was glad the show would end, and maybe you guys could go back to the way things were before. That easy, comfortable dynamic that always existed between you two.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin sees the way his eyes zone out, like he can read Seungmin’s mind. “I know you, and I know what you’re thinking and it’s absolute bullshit. You’re in too deep, hyung.”

“I’ll fucking punch you,” Seungmin hisses. “What the hell am I supposed to do, huh? Just spill to ___ that this isn’t some game for me? That my feelings are real? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Hyung–”

A gasp echoes from behind him, and Seungmin turns to see you behind him. Your lip trembles, and you lock eyes with him, a tear escaping the corner before you’re turning on your heels, running out of the dining hall. 

Seungmin stands there, frozen with the weight of what he’d just confessed, heart sinking to his shoes. All of a sudden, he feels a sharp jab to his arm, Jeongin’s fist colliding with it.

“What are you waiting for? Run!”

The rain pelts the back of Seungmin’s neck as he runs, indifferent to the fact that he’s probably soaked to the bone, slipping and sliding along the cobblestone. He can make out your figure storming ahead furiously, like you can’t get away fast enough, and he speeds up, panic in his voice.

“___, wait! Please stop.”

His voice turns hoarse from all the yelling, and he’s about to give up, turn back in defeat (and go sock Jeongin cry into his friend’s shoulder), when you stop under a streetlight, your figure slumping. 

Seungmin is by your side in moments, not caring that he takes your hands in his, blowing on them to give you warmth.

“Y-you d-don’t even h-have an umbrella, w-what were y-you thinking?” he chatters, and he watches your lips turn up in a smile. But your eyes remain downcast.

“What about you?” you whisper, and Seungmin cocks his head, looking at you in confusion.

“I left my jacket in the dining hall with Jeongin—”

“No Seungmin, I mean what about you?” your voice croaks desperately. 

Seungmin takes a deep breath. There was no use in pretending anymore.

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do,” he chokes out.

You take his hands in yours and Seungmin feels dizzy. The cold rain no longer bothers him, warmth filling his veins from the inside out.

“You think?” you sniffle.

“I know. I know I’ve been in love with you, since the day you walked into the studio and pitched your ideas for five-star dorm meals.”

“I really like your hands,” you blurt out, and Seungmin’s eyes widen in shock. That was not the response you’d been expecting.

“They’re warm when mine are always cold, I like the way they look when they’re holding a pencil, or when you bring me a cup of coffee. I like your voice too – the way you sing along to Day6 when you think no one is listening, or your annoying little laugh–”

“It is not annoying–”

You press a finger to his lips, and Seungmin thinks he might just evaporate. 

“Not now, Min. I’m trying to say something here. What I’m trying to say is that if there’s anything this whole week has taught me, it’s how much I like you. How much I want to have those crappy problems that everyone complains about with you, how much I want to celebrate birthdays with you, and anniversaries with you, and how I think I might collapse inside if I ever saw you with someone else—”

It’s Seungmin’s turn to interrupt you now,  cold lips colliding with yours, the initial shock replaced with heat. Your hands burrow into his hair and he draws you closer, hands weaving around your waist. The startled, frantic sounds of your breathing did nothing to help the pounding of his heart, and he wonders if you can hear it too. 

In this moment, Seungmin never wants to let go, holding you steady against him even when you part, your breath fanning in the cold air. 

“I just, I, needed to be honest. No more pretending.”

“No more pretending,” he smiles against your lips, nudging his nose against yours.

The wet slap of shoes against the pavement interrupts you both, turning to see the Jeongin behind you, Seungmin’s jacket in his arms. He takes in the sight of you two wrapped around each other, a smug grin lighting up his entire face.

“Hell yeah! It worked!”

“___ and Seungmin signing off, this is Tune in For Love on The Sound FM, and we’ve loved having you this week!”

The air in the studio buzzes with a different kind of excitement – the dreamy notes of Hypnotized by The Weston Estate filling up the room.

“Before we go, we have something to share with you–” your voice wobbles, and Seungmin reaches out immediately, squeezing your hand.

“Please send your email petitions in so our show doesn’t get canceled, but we’ve been faking it this whole time. We’re not actually exes.”

You can almost hear the collective gasp across campus, the soundboard going crazy as it lights up with calls.

“We are, as of yesterday, the happiest, and newest–, couple on campus,” Seungmin beams, his pride echoing through the mic and your heart lurches at how right it feels to be his.

You hit the answer button, the lines flooding with congratulations and well-wishes to the news.

“Congrats!” Ningning’s voice echoes. “I always thought you were the cutest together.”

“You make me want to find someone of my own now,” Joshua says in the background, and the studio fills with you and Seungmin’s laughter.

When the last call goes through, Jeongin gives you both a thumbs up, shutting off the soundboard. 

You turn to Seungmin, heart racing. 

“I can’t believe we actually did this,” he says,  half-laughing.

“Me neither,” you reply, a soft smile on his lips. “But I’m really glad we did. It feels… right, you know?”

“Thanks for being part of this with us,” he echoes through the airwaves, his voice sincere. “We’re excited to see what’s next—together. And while the show may be over, we hope you’ll still tune in for love every single week — no matter the topic.”

“Next – how to cook a five star meal worthy of any restaurant using just your dorm microwave…”

a/n pt. 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

[franabz]

★ Band 141 AU !fem user (part 2)

(part 1)

Ghost wasn't very sure why he was suddenly so drawn to the absolutely bonnie young woman on stage, but something about her was like a moth to a flame to him in ways he couldn't really understand.

Maybe it wad the way she seemed absolutely terrified, practically hitching with every step she took on stage in front of rows of (mostly drunken) bar patrons. You'd almost feel sorry for how she was practically shaking like a leaf as the stage manager handed off her own mic and her eyes nervously darted over the crowds with a tremble in her knees.

The lead vocalist, Vixen, didn't seem as amused as the rest though. She subtly took a step back and nudged you with her elbow, snapping you a "Don't fuck up" look that made you swallow thickly. One by one each member of the band got to their respective places, then Vixen's voice pitched into the mic through the speakers. "Thank you all for having us here tonight!" She grinned widely, obviously thinking highly of herself in the moment.

"How 'bout tae brunette? She looks like'a bonnie lass." Soap commented, resting his forearms over the wooden table as he nodded towards one of the other female band members, the bassist stage named Robin. "We're lookin' for a vocalist, not 'nother bassist." Price sighed, taking another drag of his cigar before tapping it against an ashtray to take a sip of his whiskey. Gaz and Ghost were mostly silent, simply observing the potential candidates. At least Gaz seemed alive in his thoughts, his brows raised slightly in curiosity as the music finally began. Ghost however, ever the stone-faced man, was completely unreadable, per usual.

An upbeat and funky rhythm sounded through the speakers as each band member performed their parts with practiced ease, everyone giving it their all. Vixen's captivating alto voice being the main focus. You did your best to stay on-par with the rest of the band, yet remained significantly quieter. Ghost kept his eyes trained on you with laser focus, seemingly keeping a mental note of every flat, shaky note you managed to spew out like he was some sort of critic. "She's good." Gaz uttered quietly while resting his chin in his palm, subtly head bobbing to the beat. "Ah dinnae ken... Ye can barely even hear 'er over the blonde." Soap gestured a hand towards Vixen, watching as she was blatantly trying to steal the spotlight over the other band members, her voice considerably louder than the instruments. Price simply watched with a critical eye. You could practically hear the gears moving in his head.

Little by little you finally started breaking from that timid shell you were curled in and your true colors began to shine, your captivating soprano vocals mixing with Vixen's alto tone rather nicely, though it was obvious she was still trying to overpower you. Nonetheless you delivered with such soulful grace that rang out in the ears of patrons even after the song ended. Almost like a siren drawing in unsuspecting victims.

Though Price didn't say anything, it was obvious his face said it all. "I have to talk to her."

"Soprano and baritone? Not a bad combo." Gaz chipped in. "Wot's what mean?" Ghost finally spoke up, gruffly scowling as he tapped his foot against the wooden flooring below.

"Bloody 'ell, pipe down." Price grunted, waving away his smoke as well as waving away the chatter of the boys.

The rest of the performance the boys were relatively quiet, each going through their own inner turmoil. Well, everyone but Soap. He couldn't care less who joined as long as they were a decent person. As the band finally finished and the final notes rang in the air, the band roared in applause and cheers, some drunken bar-goers even going as far as to throw catcalls. As soon as the band finished and Vixen began addressing the audience while the others began loading off stage— "Be right back." Price put out his cigar and took one last swig of his drink before weaving his way through crowds with a small occasional "S'cuse me" or "Pardon me" just to get a chance to talk with you.

Sure she was as timid as a butterfly, but nothing some good practice and encouragement couldn't fix.

As Price disappeared into the crowd, Soap stood up to head back towards the bar to order some more drinks, leaving just Ghost and Gaz.

"So, what'd ya think, Si?" He smirked, his eyes flickering back up to meet Ghost's own gaze. Ghost stayed silent for a moment, avoiding Gaz's gaze slightly. He actually did enjoy the performance, though he would never admit that out loud. "T'was fine." He replied quietly, tapping a blunt fingernail against his empty glass. "Fine? That's all you can say? The girl gotta voice of siren. Bloody captivating."

He leaned back in his booth, the slight sound of denim rubbing against leather could be heard over the distant bar chatter. "Only the first band n' Price already has his eyes on a bird." Ghost subtly eye-rolled and met Gaz's brown eyes for a second, before drifting his gaze away as his eyes roamed over the crowds again, trying to find the girl Price went to talk to.

Meanwhile with Price, he managed to stop you in your tracks with his usual straight to the point charm, one that made you cock a brow subtly.

"Hey- I jus' wanted to say you hav'a lovely singin' voice, mate. A true talent." Price smiled respectfully, tucking a hand into his jeans pocket as his gaze stayed trained over you. "Ah... Thank you, sir." You replied with a small sheepish chuckle, idly fiddling with a loose string on the hem of your jeans at the compliment. Price could notice your unease and chuckled gruffly, finding it a bit amusing how sheepish you were. "Don' worry, lass. I don't bite." He reassured, a small amused huff escaping his lips. "Look, I won't sugarcoat this. I thin ya 'ave true potential, and I was wondering if you'd be interested in a little meeting, eh?" He pulled a small business card from his pocket and held it out for you between his rough fingers.

You glanced down at the card and could feel your face warming at the offer. "A business offer? Hell- I could barely hold a steady note..." You thought to yourself, before quickly snapping out of your stray thoughts and swallowed thickly, hesitantly reaching for the card. "We're currently lookin' for a secondary singer 'nd thought you'd fit in nicely. All of my details're on the card." Price added, handing the card off to you before folding his arms over his chest, watching your reaction.

You accepted the card in shaky hands, your eyes roaming over the "141" label in jagged fonts. "Right... I'll think about it." You muttered, before placing the card into your own pocket and looking back up at the man, exhaling deeply to release some nerves. "Thank you." You added quietly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

"F'course, lass. Hey, you have a true talent. We could use s'meone like you on our side." Price hummed, satisfaction crossing over his face at your acceptance.

You both respectfully bid farewells and went your separate ways, Price returning to the secluded booths and you being left to stand against the wall with your own thoughts. You couldn't lie, the offer was something that definitely caught your attention, but then again you were still technically in a band. Would they even notice if you left? You were barely even noticeable on stage anyways... Maybe if you—

"Y/N!" A familiar voice snapped you out of your inner turmoil, that of Vixen; better known as Crystal. "Where were you? We're packing up for the night." She sneered, placing her hands on her hips as she looked at you, almost silently judging you. "You're lucky you didn't completely blow it tonight. Everyone was too focused on me to care, anyways." Her comments definitely tugged at your gut, but you decided not to say anything about it.

"Right, sorry." You sighed, silently resenting Crystal for her constant jabs, though you couldn't say you didn't expect it. "Damn right you are. Now hurry up, Jayce is paying our tab." She stuck her nose up subtly, before turning on her heel to walk away. Your expression stiffened as she walked away, a small exhausted exhale leaving your lips.

You took one last look around the bar, your eyes falling over the booths where 141 was currently sitting, laughing it up and sharing drinks and smokes while other bands were loading on stage, before your eyes returned to the front of the bar where Crystal and the others were waiting. You patted the pocket that Price's business card was in and let out a controlled inhale, before slowly weaving through the crowds to get to them.

Though the thought of the offer hadn't left your mind yet.

[ace-of-spaders]

*taps the mic and laughs nervously because of the major stage fright*

Lizzington shippers, fam, grandmas and grandpas, can I have a moment of your attention, please?

It's not a secret that, while some people in Lizzington community are still active, whether they write or make gifs or keep our dash full of Lizzington even in this trying times ( @melbob26-blog, thank you for this! ), Lizzington community as a whole went into hibernation over the last couple of years.

And I get it, interests change, especially when one show ends and there's another ongoing, moving on from the show that ended is totally natural, especially when it didn't give your favorite characters the happy ending they deserved.

I get it.

Hell, for a pretty lengthy while there I focused on other ships and shows, too, especially after TBL ended ended last year.

But you know what I realized earlier today, when I reread some of the old fics, browsed through gifsets and text posts, watched some fanvids?

It's the show that ended, for some in 2021, for others in 2023. And the only thing that means is that it cannot disappoint us anymore.

( it's not like we were suddenly deprived of quality content, because let's face it, the fans have been the main source of the quality lizzington content for years now, while the show gave us mere crumbs, on a good day )

But Red and Liz?

They are still out there, fighting criminals, catching Blacklisters, travelling the world, shamelessly flirting, toppling shadow organizations, raising Agnes and/or any other children they have, and generally being the sexy badass power couple they are!

Nothing changed in that regard.

So why would we mourn them, when they are out there, healthy and happy and in the middle of yet another adventure? I'm sure right this moment Red is drawing Liz into another one of his heists and she's only too happy to join him, even though she pretends that she's not, for the sake of the game.

There's literally no reason for us to stop writing, giffing, editing, sharing theories and headcanons and memes and just talking about our favorite couple.

And by writing all of this, I want to propose something daring to you:

Let's revive the Lizzington community!

Let's rewatch earlier seasons and gif the hell out of them because it's been a while and because precious moments between these two are not going to become less precious even if it's giffed 10 or 100 more times, not to mention that ever gifmaker's style is different, so there are virtually no two identical gifsets as there are no two identical snow flakes.

Let's make fanvideos, picspams, picture edits, fanart, moodboards! The amount of songs, quotes, moments etc that can inspire you is virtually endless!

Let's write fics, let's explore AUs, let's give each other prompts and challenge each other to try something new or practice some aspect of writing, like writing kisses or AUs or hugs or making up Blacklisters etc!

Let's share headcanons and theories and ideas and what our versions of Red and Liz are like, because everyone has their own unique versions of Red and Liz living in their head, and it's just beautiful, if you ask me!

Let's reblog stuff, filling each other's dashes with Lizzington!

Let's scream about Lizzington because no one does it like them!

Let's revive the Lizzington Community, we all miss it!

PS. Feel free to reblog this post – spread the suggestion!)

PPS. To assure you that I'm not the type of person who encourages others but doesn't do anything themselves, I can tell you I've already got some ideas for a couple of Lizzington events in mind. Those include challenges, thematic weeks etc.

PPPS. I'm not sure how many people are checking the tags these days, so I'm gonna tag some people I know under the cut, just in case, to spread the suggestion. If you weren't tagged, trust me, it's nothing personal!

@meetmeatthecoda @iwouldlovetoeatyourtoast @agxntkeen @factoseintolerant @tale-xistime @james-baeder @lettie1609 @withwhatiam @peace-love-on-planet-earth @missourired @felilaprivada @strawberry-pills @roominthecastle @codewordpumpkin @my-robot-heart @kitkate91060 @imyourplusone @shelly1952 @itsjustme-itsmylife @castle2cute @nancyjocom @cress-26 @lunaarlilacs @femaleoptimistic @scifi-gk @greeneyedsoul88 @figureofdismay @shippinglizzington @kissthefuture @thetwistedargent @actuallylorelaigilmore @sorrydearie @turningtimeinthetardis @buildinggsr @apicturewithasmile @windfalling @piketrickfeet

[momodita]

snapshots. [—trafalgar law]

TAGS / WARNINGS: a/o/b au, alpha/alpha, gender       neutral reader, post rut, reader is part of       law's crew, reader bites and is bitten (not       a mating bond), lightly suggestive WC: 1,000 NOTE: [taps mic] this thing on [trips and falls and       spills op blorbos on the ground] oh shit       my bad sorry about that...

✗ MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Despite the exhaustion of post rut, you cannot bend to another alpha’s wishes, even those of your vessel’s captain.

Law’s arm is mid-motion when you seize it. His nostrils flare, but he’s in your den—temporary as it is. His scent thickens, but hardly matches the volume and intensity of your own.

The mix of them teases your salivary glands. The blanket you’ve favored for the duration of this rut is full of puncture holes—perfectly shaped marks where your fangs have sunk in and pierced; turning the fabric into a poor mimicry of flesh.

“I’m taking your temperature.” A silent command to release him. He does this for everyone: a final checkup before the recovery period. A formality he adheres to.

“Then do.” Still, you do not let go.

Law’s eyes narrow. He pulls, almost experimentally. You fight the urge to snarl—remiss to release him: to surrender the upper hand you have. And the contact is good, a part of you preens—the touch of another person, the warmth and firmness beneath your palm. Even if you wanted to, you could not bring yourself to uncurl your fingers.

“Don’t be stupid.” His scorn prickles down the length of your spine. Law has no shortage of insightful thoughts, but your eyes have instead focused on the toned length of his neck: the seamless dip of his clavicle to his exposed chest. The skin is flawless—no sign of a claiming scar; a canvas for his tattoos and you, your quietly aching teeth.

What a thing it’d be to claim him. And how easy it would be to push a harmless bruise or two into him: alpha he may be, but his flesh is just as susceptible to damage as the rest of them. Nothing would last—it wouldn’t take unless you were to bite.

Just the thought of it is intoxicating. Giving temptation a name you dare not speak aloud. Imagining your hands on him is easy with his scent seeping out, enveloping you.

Your mouth spreads in a grin. Taking advantage of his surprise, you readjust your grip and yank.

But Law, true to his reflexes, deflects with a palm flat against your forehead, thrusting you back onto the bed. All at once you’re aware of how messy it is—the presentation laughably inadequate for a heat partner. Though, Law is not your companion; he’s just a man—a fellow alpha that falls easily into wrestling.

You match his growl with your own, thrusting a hand out to try and topple him—not wanting to be bested in your own den. Adrenaline surges through you, blood going hot: relishing the pressure of another person’s hand on your sternum. Your body is still tender.

The skirmish reveals his throat again. This time, you cannot hide your fascination, veins buzzing; lost in the excitement, you snarl. A low, wordless challenge—a turn from playful grappling.

When next you grab him, it’s not to push him off. Post rut makes you clumsy. He sends the two of you sprawling on the floor. You keep a fist in his shirt, angling yourself forward, teeth snapping hungrily.

Law is quicker at getting his bearings. Manhandles you into a prone position on your stomach with a quiet huff of victory.

“The rut’s gone to your head, idiot,” he snaps, but his hands are much more patient with you—scanning for injuries, pressing tentatively. Nothing amiss but the tender spots where he grabbed and flipped you; and your bruised pride, to boot. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You weren’t, really.

You try to buck him off, nerves crawling—for space, for skinship; it’s not easy to tell, tangled up in your haze. Beneath the control of another alpha, you merely groan and thrash.

Law shoves his forearm into your face.

“Bite,” he commands. Your jaw sets—unwilling to submit to another alpha’s demand. Law presses harder against you, hand clenching around your wrist. “Bite.”

It feels a little like guilt when you do—chasing the pungency of his scent gland. Blood rushes in your ears when you do—jaw opening for a mouthful of the soft, fleshy part of his forearm. The tendons in his wrist go taut. His tattoos taste as human as the rest of him.

You can feel his pulse against your gums: the warm, iron-victory of his blood on your tongue. It’s a little humiliating how the taste makes you moan, muffled into his arm. It’s not a neck, but it doesn’t have to be.

You don’t even notice that his grip has shifted—the pleasure of finally having another’s flesh nearly overwhelming—nor do you notice the collar of your shirt being tugged away, or the warm puff of air across your nape: swallowed by the feverish haze of your rut.

But it is noticeable when Law’s teeth sink into you. Getting his lips on your skin to bite.

Instinct has your jaw opening in favor of jerking away. But he grunts, shoves his arm harder into your mouth. Blood and saliva slicks your bottom lip, pearling and dribbling along the curve of it.

There’s no intimacy in this particular mark. It’s nothing but an unspoken reprimand as Law situates himself, your hips locked tightly between his knees.

Scuffle settled, it takes time for you to accept defeat. Going limp. The muscles in your face finally loosening.

Law releases you. The air is cool, circling where his mouth was.

“Have you calmed down?” he asks, voice rough. His arm is motionless. Blood sinks into the divots of your molars.

“And if I say no?” you ask, unconvincing with the drawl of fatigue in your voice. Rearing your head for one last show of control.

Law drags a thumb along the stinging skin—as if surveying his work. A pacifying gesture. Not unkind, but not born out of benevolence. He’ll treat it later, indubitably. None of these marks will last a week, and that—you think—is a damn shame.

[chocoyeo]

Lucky [j.yh]

>> jeong yunho x reader >> fluff, cozy, soft, really super very tender, college au, i'm in my yunho feels rn and i want him to be one of my classmates wtf >> wordcount: 1.7k -> it's another boring day in uni, you're exhausted and distracted but you're lucky yunho is with you to keep you company !! <3 [little short story, nothing much happens but hehe] <-

[8:40 a.m]

-Hey! ‘Morning, morning…!

-...Good morning.

-Thaaat… didn’t sound convincing at all. Are you really having a good morning?- Yunho’s sweet voice reached your ears like some sort of lullaby. Although it was only nine in the morning, you felt like taking a nap, again. The one you took on the subway on your way to university wasn’t enough.  

You were feeling quite slumpy for no reason in particular, and your friend had now made it his problem, too. 

-What if we–

-No, Yunho. No skipping lectures…- you tried to sound responsible even though that thought has been lingering in your mind for at least three hours.

-Woah, that’s what you were thinking about? I was gonna suggest to go grab a coffee but if skipping class is what you really want to do then…- he giggled, his eyes searching for yours while the two of you were heading to class: the thought of spending the following hour and a half stuck in a room with other 80 students didn’t really excite you that much. You were glad that Yunho was there to keep you company, though. 

Since you still had some time before the lecture started, the two of you quickly grabbed a drink from the vending machine: a really bitter canned coffee and a really sweet peach ice-tea. What a duo… 

-Hopefully your way too sweet ice-tea won’t make you straight up fall asleep in class.

-Shush, at least it’s not whatever abomination you keep getting.

-It’s just coffee–

-I’m sure you’re the only one in this whole university that buys that.

-Oh well… more for me then, heh!- he shrugged, a faint smirk painting his lips before he took a sip of his drink. The two of you quickly arrived in class and found two seats, your hands swiftly taking out your laptop from your bag, sipping on your drink while waiting for it to turn on and load your notes. The professor hadn’t arrived yet so the room was filled with a lot of chattering, giggles and mumbling; students were gradually filling the seats around you and you found yourself leaning your head on Yunho’s shoulder out of boredom. 

-Yunho, I really don’t want to be here…

-Mh? Do you want to skip? The prof is not he– oh! Nevermind, he’s just arrived.

You scoffed, trying not to laugh too loud at the perfect timing of his comment. Shaking your head slowly, you fixed yourself on the really uncomfortable chair and took one last sip of your drink. as you brought your whole focus to your laptop, the way-too-calm voice that your professor used whenever he had a lecture started to fill your ears. You sighed, probably trying to conceal a possible yawn from leaving your mouth, and threw a quick glance at Yunho, sitting on your right: he was carefully taking notes on his notebook– his handwriting wasn’t the best, but you had always found it quite adorable, the way he would somehow crouch while taking notes, his hand quickly moving on the book, his pencil case storing a whole army of blue pens and blue pens only, besides one yellow highlighter and a pencil.

The professor’s soporific voice echoed in the room (since he had decided to use the mic to be heard better) along with the typing sounds of people taking notes on their laptops. You tried to stay focused, yet your mind was wandering away way too easily, and you didn’t know why: so many thoughts flooded in, the main one being a really strong need to just stand up and leave that damn lecture. You sighed once again, and you suddenly felt someone tapping on your arm.

It was Yunho: his eyes were not hiding the obvious concern and worry he was feeling towards you– but you just couldn’t even explain how come you were feeling so blue that day. Maybe it was the ugly weather? The heavy gray clouds you spotted on your way to class that morning? Or the fact that you had stayed up all night playing games and not winning a single match…

You shook your head and tried to bring your focus back to your laptop screen: that half-empty document page was waiting for some new words to be inserted, and your heavy hands tried to type in whatever the professor was talking about, although tiredness was getting the best of you. Yunho tapped once again on your shoulder, this time he offered you his pencil: you accepted it, now holding it in your hand and not really knowing what to do with it. Yunho lightly pushed his notebook towards you, leaving a blank spot available for you to doodle on. A smile painted your lips while you started to quickly draw some little silly characters, moving to writing random comments and words, and then switching to writing Yunho’s name in various fonts: whenever you completed one, you would leave a quick “dummy ~ “ right next to it just to move on to the next font.

You had obviously abandoned your notes, although you tried from time to time to type in something –some concepts or quick important things– but your attention would move back to Yunho’s notebook quite easily: your eyes and mind were absorbing every letter and drawing you left in that blank space that, well, wasn’t blank anymore. You weren’t aware of the way Yunho had been looking at you the whole time: his eyes softened the moment you accepted the pencil, his lips were curved in a sweet smile and he silently admired every drawing you had left on that page while he carefully took notes without disrupting your little masterpiece.

Once he had to turn the page, though, he lightly tapped on your hand with a finger: you didn’t pay much attention to it for a moment, probably because you were so bored of that lecture and so absorbed in your little world that you weren’t paying attention to anything or anyone at all at that point. His finger traced random lines on your knuckles before you finally stopped and looked at him, giving him a few seconds to turn the page and resume with his notes. You silently apologized, leaving a little smiley right next to the few words he had written. 

The moment you heard your professor dismiss the class, you stretched your arms, somehow acting as if you did something productive during that lecture. You did feel a bit more relaxed and you had to thank Yunho for that. In such an easy way he was able to let you silently vent and get distracted, assuring you that he would have lended you his notes. You promised you would have offered him an ice-cream as a thank you gift. 

-Oh well then, don’t mind me if I choose one of the most expensive ones!

-It’s fine, Yunho. It’s both for the notes and for the fact that I basically vandalized your notebook.

He shook his head, laughing- You really liked writing my name, what, four times in a row? But it’s fine, at least you didn’t fall asleep… 

-C’mon, the professor even used the mic today… It was the perfect lullaby…

-I can’t even imagine falling asleep to an old man explaining marketing graphs but I guess to each their own…- you lightly slapped his arm in response, laughing.

-Right, did you hear about that project the other departments came up with? 

-No, I was too busy writing your name in different fonts for a whole hour.

-Oh, true. Well I just understood that some people will be involved in a whole photoshoot! The photography kids are quite good, you should apply to that.

-Me? Nah, I’d rather–

-Spend the whole night playing games just to come to lectures completely sleep deprived?

You stopped abruptly, nearly tripping in your own steps- What’s up with the sudden callout?!

-I was so worried this morning. But then I checked and saw your last access online was at 2 in the morning… with a 4 hour long gameplay… uninterrupted…

You bit your tongue, your eyes quickly avoiding to meet his. You got busted! And no excuse would have saved you in any way…

You had promised, at the beginning of the semester, that you wouldn’t have destroyed your sleep schedule over some silly video game. You were quite serious about that and allowed Yunho to see your game history and access just to keep you in check. A little detail you had momentarily forgotten…

-Yunho… forgive me?- you looked at him, signaling an apology with your hands, held tight together.

-You’re lucky today we don’t have other lectures… Were you perhaps planning to not come at all?- he looked at you, his eyes nearly closed because of the way he was (jokingly) glaring at you. 

You quickly moved your gaze away, clearing your throat before admitting that you were indeed planning to skip lectures and that was why you went to sleep so late. But in the morning you felt quite guilty, remembering how Yunho would often tell you not to skip classes otherwise it would become a bad habit, so you decided to go even though you were completely sleep-deprived. 

Yunho tried his best to hide a smile from showing on his lips, failing miserably because of how cute you looked in his eyes. His hand fixed a lock of your hair, delicately moving it behind your ear.

-Well, I really appreciate how your sleep deprived brain thought about me, but next time take better care of yourself, okay?- he mumbled, his fingers delicately caressing your hair.

You nodded, receiving a quick peck on your cheek.

-Let’s go then, I’m really in the mood for a big big ice-cream a certain someone is going to offer me!- his hand lightly grabbed yours, and you let him lead you to the usual place you would stop by to get some snacks. 

The sky was clear, no heavy gray clouds were in sight anymore and you really felt better, probably thanks to him and his precious company. You felt really lucky.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

tagged by @thesingularityseries thank you <3

so I've started working on the British Gangster AU for Rory and TF141, very much in the vein of Guy Ritchie/Quentin Tarantino - told in a weird timeline format, lots of hopping between character POVs, etc.

snippet gets kind of long (sorry) and is still VERY rough. Also, the MI5 officers are absolutely written to basically be Statham and Vinnie Jones... so yeah...

warning for mentions of violence and criminal activities

Thames House, MI5 Headquarters, London, UK

It's not the first time Rory Sinclair has found herself inside an interrogation room, it's certainly the first time she's been the one to be questioned however…

Hazel eyes roam around the room. It’s the same sterile grey they always are, a mirror on the wall she knows the camera is set up on the other side of recording her, cheap mic on the table picking up audio, the uncomfortable metal chairs the authorities will keep a person chained to as if they lost all rights the moment they walked through the door. 

And before her are two carbon copied hardboiled officers: matching ill-fitting suits, close-cropped shaved heads, five o’clock shadows, and appearing as though they’ve both broken and have had their noses broken several times over. 

Manicured nails tap against the table top, french tips clicking against fake wood laminate. One leg crossed over the other as her foot bounces in time to a tune on replay in her head to keep herself occupied. One way or another... Fixing the way her coat sits to keep out the cool air from the AC they've clearly turned up to make her less comfortable and therefore more willing to talk. Focus lazily swinging from one officer to the other like a pendulum. 

Uninterested. 

Apathetic. 

She yawns as a set of files is tossed in front of her, skidding across the table, covers falling open, and before her sits the faces of four men.

The two officers sitting across from her put on their best good cop, bad cop performance as they give her the stare down - except one of them forgot to play soft.  Arms crossed, sullen faces, tight jaws. 

Real hardasses. 

“Miss Sinclair, it's in your best interest to realize that your choice of career puts you in direct contact with some less than savoury individuals,” the first officer husks. “These four especially, been keeping tabs on them for some time now. Drugs, weapons, illegal gambling, murder – all in a day's work for the 141, eh?”

She offers no reaction at all, there wasn’t a rap sheet in the world that could surprise her anymore. Her career was built on representing individuals with longer lists of crimes than that. Her stoneface response clearly isn’t the reaction the authorities were hoping for with the way they lean in towards her, cutting into her personal space, black tea on their breath permeating the air.  

“Ever heard of ‘em, love?”

Rory leans back in her seat, hands sliding into her lap as her heel continues its monotonous motion. “Can't say that I have, no.” 

“Then permit us to inform you, miss.” 

The larger brute of an officer thrusts his finger towards the first picture, a ragged, roughly bitten nail pointing to a stocky man with a steely gaze, mutton chops, and a neck tattoo. “This ‘ere's the leader. Goes by ‘The Captain’ – Jonathan Price.” 

Price

“Been at this since the age of sixteen…” 

The warehouse sits quiet, still, and dark. Water-stained windows, milky and clouded, creak and rattle with the ocean air from the nearby harbour. The giant factory doors open with a squeal, and the silhouetted forms of four inky figures stand there in the night as a body hung from the rafters by chains swings to and fro, murmuring from behind a strip of duct tape. The night is foggy, and the wisps of vapour crawl into the abandoned building. Shafts of light that beam in through the holes in the corrugated metal roofing cut shadows across the faces of the visitors in tailored suits, long overcoats, and leather shoes. 

Silent surroundings are broken by the tapping of soles on concrete and the rasp of a match being lit as it’s held up to the recently snipped end of a Villa Clara cigar, sparking it to life with a burning orange glow. A heavy plume of smoke is blown out, swirling and thick as it trails up towards the worn openings above – the only thing allowed to escape the oppressive stare of sharp blue eyes. 

Tape is ripped from the mouth of the man swinging idly from the chains that bind him, mouth left raw and red as adhesive is torn away from skin and stubble.  

“Where did you think you were, York?” he whispers hoarsely around the stub of his cigar as he stands before the hanged man, arms crossed over his chest. There’s no need to raise his voice – his figure, his name, is intimidating enough. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, Price.” The hanged man huffs out a nervous laugh, pleading with someone who he knows off reputation alone is merciless. “Don’t know how the bastards in London handle things, but Liverpool – this is my city, yeah?” “Course it is, innit.” 

If York had hands available to hold up in surrender he would. Waving the white flag in the presence of the head of England’s most powerful gang in a heartbeat. It was rare for a person to be given the opportunity to meet with Price in person and it usually wasn’t for good reason. He had people to handle these sorts of things, and more important matters to attend to. But, sometimes, a person needed reminding of just who sat at the top and how much power he wields. Power that he ruthlessly holds onto. Whether it's the Irish, the Russians, or the cartels who try to step into his territory, he offers no leeway, never an inch spared. This is his territory, a hunting ground he worked his way up to the top to attain and he won’t let that slip through his fingers for love nor money.

He says nothing more on the matter as cold, unreadable eyes look up at his prey from under a heavy brow. John doesn’t see the point in wasting his words or his breath when it's no longer necessary. His point has been made well known, and the body – when it’s found – will take care of the rest.

With another puff of smoke released, he slinks back into the shadows, Gaz at his right hand, leaving his two guard dogs to handle the rest. He can trust them to handle matters properly with little oversight. His Lieutenant, Riley, has no trouble keeping MacTavish on a leash.

cod taglist [opt in/out]

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[nardos-primetime]

Some Happy Things for the Clone Turtles in my Draxum's Side of The Family AU because my one friend is always like "CAN YOU GIVE THEM ANY NICE THINGS EVER" Yes. Yes I can!

(Let's ignore that fact a lot of these end up ruined or bittersweet later on alright? Alright.)

Most of this is in the Big Mama Era of the AU! It's basically like... the middle section of the au, so a bunch of shit happens

Big Mama is a good mother to them sometimes. She often gives them praise and works to keep them safe when she initially gains ownership (for lack of a better word) of them. They start off almost always having guards with them and such. She's also the one that properly lets them tap into training in a much healthier way than Draxum ever did (especially since they were physically like TODDLERS when Drax was pushing them). They learn pretty fast because of how they were made and because most of the time, their training is when they choose.

She calls them turtily-dees instead of turtily-boos to differentiate (they love the nickname differenceit majes them feel better than the ogs).

The clones, (even Rage), like to put on little shows for guests when not working. Unlike the originals the clones can actually sing and perform, it's one of the only consistent ways Rage speaks verbally (though he is noticeably silent or just huming in some acts).

Mic is head chef! (Half honorary) He helps come up with new dishes in the kitchen and spends most of his time in the restaurant locations Mama owns. Along with this, beforehand Mama often (and still does) let them be the first taste testers for most meals, they had previously been starving, so this was a very nice change of pace.

The boys are friends with a good bunch of Mama's workers, and they mess around with them a lot. It's kind of like bring your kid to work day but basically every day for them. Sometimes, they even help the boys sneak out when they want to try and do regular kid stuff.

Such as- sneaking out to the arcade or just taking walks at night without worrying where they're going to sleep or hide for the day. Or where they're going to get food. Lee starts really admiring stars at this point, and his room and part of their little area connecting their rooms are decorated with stars after he mentions them to Mama (a pleasant surprise).

I must reiterate, the clones REALLY DO love each other. So finally being able to see each other even feel safe enough to actually have fun is a positive on its own.

They're really close friends with a bird yokai around their age. She often comes in because her dad has work with Big Mama. Sometimes, they even sneak her out to hang out, too!

Some of the workers like to give the boys little quests once they notice their bored, like telling Donno to deliver something to someone on another floor (even if it's not that important). The clones are still a little mentally stunted because they're clones that physically grew up too fast (Along with trauma messing with it), their mental only somewhat caught up, so these little games are really fun for them.

Rage picks up wood carving. That's it. Don't know why, but I thought it was nice. He's not great at it, but it's nice when he isn't doing anything.

The clones set up their own little meetings where they share what they've done/are doing for the day. It lets Lee be more of a fun leader for once, like "aaaaand Mic, what has our head chef cooked up for today!?" Really excitedly for the others to start rambling

Donno makes the other's weapons once he perfects making them. He actually modifies Rage's the most to handle a little more than the others.

They do have a little fun!

Sadly, Big Mama isn't the best the other half of the time. And the fun is what happens to keep them there until it's too late and they can't really leave. Or they're too scared to leave.

[thefuzzzz]

Jasico Bingo Challenge #24!!

Prompt: Band AU

Jason wasn’t really sure how he got there, but he was sure he was enjoying himself.

He was in a stuffed building, some hole-in-the-wall place loaded with metalheads. Jason himself was an unassuming metal fan. He didn’t look it, but something about incomprehensible screaming was appealing to his soul.

Currently on stage was a man screaming his heart out. However, Jason’s gaze was more intent on the bassist beside him.

Something about the bright lights and Jason’s slowly disappearing sense of sound made it all the better. This all felt like some kind of dream he’d stumbled into in an attempt to fill the void of a boring Friday night.

The bassist stood out from the rest of the band. He was small and looked to be around Jason’s age if not a little younger. He watched their vocalist intently, eyes sharpened with a kind of focus Jason had never seen look so good in someone before.

He had black hair with little streaks dyed red. He wore a simple black jacket and shirt with some ripped-up jeans and way too many bracelets. They jangled on his wrists as he played up and down the strings.

The song they were playing ended, giving room for the crowd to cheer. Jason had never heard of the band, but they seemed popular. He wasn’t sure why they were performing with a ten-dollar entry fee in a dingy building though.

The vocalist walked around in a circle before addressing the crowd. He was soaked in sweat and had his shirt tugged off and tucked hanging out of his pocket, but he was grinning.

“Hey everybody, hope you’re enjoying yourselves tonight.”

The crowd roared with enthusiasm, only making his smile grow.

He said something else, but Jason wasn’t paying much attention. He was staring at the bassist. Somehow, the bassist stared back. His eyes flickered to Jason’s for a moment before he smiled and looked away towards his vocalist.

Jason felt his face flush. His ears were ringing, but the next interaction would replay in his mind all night.

The singer was still talking as Nico walked over to him. “Alright everybody, our next song is called ‘Want You’. It’s out on Spotify now. This is our first time performing—huh?” He turned to see his bassist tapping him on the shoulder. “What’s up, Nico?”

Jason repeated the name in his mind. It was a nice name, it suited him.

Nico took the mic and said softly but commandingly, “Blondie in the second row, what’s your name?”

Jason looked around for another ‘blondie’ but only found dyed hair and the furthest things from blond imaginable. “Uh, I’m Jason.” He said, stuttering over his words and now acutely aware of how red his face was getting.

“This next song’s for you.” Nico gave the mic back and returned to his spot.

The rest of the band “ooo”-ed at Nico, who just smiled and gave a little look to Jason under his shaggy hair.

The song started, and Jason was met with the lyrics supposedly dedicated to him. A mixture of the suggestive lyrics and Nico’s eyes now glued to him certainly didn’t help his blush.

The song ended as quickly as it started, but maybe that was just the case for Jason. Nico winked subtly.

“Alright, everyone, we had a wonderful time tonight! Glad you all came and were performing here again this time Friday next week!” Their vocalist said.

Nico locked eyes with Jason and smiled before hopping down the steps to the small stage and walking over, unplugging his bass.

He smiled up at Jason. “I’m Nico, nice to meet you,” he said surprisingly politely.

Jason looked down at him. “Well, you know I’m Jason. Nice to meet you too.”

Nico looked him up and down. Jason tried not to twitch under his harsh gaze.

“I like you, you stand out,” Nico said cryptically.

“You stand out too. You’re very different from your bandmates.”

“Are you single?” Nico asked, cutting straight to the chase.

“Yeah, yeah I am. Are you?”

“Yup.”

A second of silence overtook them. It was clear Nico wasn’t the type to do this often. Despite his rough nature he fidgeted his hands in his pocket.

Jason smiled. God, this guy was adorable.

“Here, I’ll put my number in your phone,” Jason said, talking a bit louder so he could actually hear himself over his ringing ears.

Nico handed over his phone, smiling softly.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” Nico asked.

“I’ve got work in the morning, but other than that I’m free.”

“Great, text me what time works and I’ll pick you up then,” Nico said, putting his own number in Jason’s phone.

He handed Jason his phone, letting him see his chipped black nail polish. “See you around, blondie.”

Jason left that concert with a new number in his phone and a red face, both signs of a good night.

This is also on AO3:

My Card:

[mcd-brainrot-hours]

*taps mic* hi guys i wanted to post something for vylenix week so have my wip of today’s prompts :3 @vylenix-week

i attempted to combine the two prompts (ghost/ghost hunting au and reincarnation) for this wip

Vylad often stumbled across ruins during his travels (but he wouldn’t if he followed the paths he was told to by his GPS). He’d spend time admiring the aged or rotted exterior but he never dared to actually enter one. He’d rather not have to deal with asbestos.

But this one- this one was different. It wasn’t as eerie as other buildings he found on his way here. He began to assume this area used to be a village once bustling with life. However, unlike the other buildings in it, this one’s exterior remained oddly intact. The stone walls showed no signs of crumbling. Vylad admired the architectural style of it in an attempt to put an age on it. “Looks like a guard tower… huh. Those haven’t been used in ages…” He mumbled to the mist around him.

“Nothing bad could happen… right?” Vylad shrugged and decided to enter the oddly-preserved guard tower. The first thing he noticed was how organized it was. Why was this place so… put together?

If Vylad’s memory was correct, these guard towers were used during the Phoenix Era. They played a key role in a village’s defense. He read about a library’s worth of books on that era alone- the last era to use relics.

Vylad continued looking around. He admired the weapons on display, each of them still shining and sharp- he wouldn’t test that though. He decided to look around for some books from older time periods.

He made his way to a bookshelf but stopped when he heard… footsteps? No one else should be here… He shrugged it off and continued towards the bookshelf.

. . .

Haunting what remains of Phoenix Drop’s guard towers isn’t the most exciting thing. The world seems to have forgotten it even existed. Zenix doesn’t have much to do other than recall his glory day- being a ghost really limits what you can do.

Zenix stared out of the windows at the ocean. His favorite activity… Zenix let out a groan and decided to pace around the room for a bit longer- wait. Someone’s here. Zenix debated whether he should investigate or continue to do what he’s done for centuries.

But it’s not everyday that someone stumbles across this ancient town. Zenix decided to spice things up. He’s going to investigate.

. . .

Vylad didn’t realize how much history this tower would hold when he first found it an hour ago. Majority of the books here contain old fighting techniques and different types of weapons that were used then. He found a few that held details of the relics- mainly Esmund’s. He peered at the tower of books he’s created next to him. Vylad added another to the top.

He stretched his legs before getting up from the wooden chair he was using. Irene, that was a lot of reading. He checked his phone for the time. He didn’t have anywhere he needed to be today so he could spend as long as he wanted here.

He wandered over to the weapon racks on the wall. He reached out to carefully trace the blade of one of the iron swords. “Get out…” Vylad snapped around, trying to find where the voice came from. He gulped. “Ok… cool. This place is probably haunted… should’ve figured-“ He let out a shaky breath. His eyes traced the room like a hawk.

Vylad felt someone poke him on the shoulder from behind. He froze. Definitely haunted, he thought, why didn’t I consider that? He carefully crept to where his bag sat by the door. He didn’t want to leave just yet- he hasn’t even been to the second floor.

A sudden chill filled the room. Vylad froze. “…not supposed to be here…” That voice again! He put on a brave face and called out: “Show yourself!” He held out his phone like a weapon- maybe it could scare off the ghost?

He searched the room with his eyes again. “Behind you…” Vylad startled and slowly turned around.

There was a ghost here.

. . .

Zenix expected to find some nerd who studies his time period- he’s gotten good at scaring them off. He didn’t expect him. Vylad was supposed to be dead. Not staring at Zenix in fear and curiosity.

Zenix took a moment to take in Vylad’s appearance. He looked… different. His once messy, unkempt hair was tamed (just a bit) in a small ponytail- only half though. His clothes looked new but he still has his green scarf. Time has been kind to him (he deserves the kindness, Zenix thought).

“W-Who are you? Or what are- wait no… your a ghost that’s what you are…” Zenix couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t remember me?” He questioned.

“…should I?”

“Well, duh. I’m supposed to be an important part of your life.” Zenix teased.

Vylad squinted his eyes. “How is a ghost supposed to be important to me? I don’t even know your name!”

Zenix stared at Vylad. Why doesn’t he remember? “Are you not Vylad Ro’meave?” He asked. Vylad jumped. “How do you know my name?” His eyes squinted at Zenix.

“…we dated?” Zenix knew there were probably better things to jog Vylad’s memory with but he didn’t want to find them. He watched as Vylad started to fidget with the hem of their leather jacket. “I… don’t date people.” Vylad muttered.

“Did he wipe your memory, Vylad? It’s me, Zenix. Y’know… your boyfriend? The one who survived literal hell with you?” He sighed exasperatingly. “I give up. You clearly don’t remember me.” He turned away and looked down at his translucent hands. If he was still around, then it made sense for Vylad to be his Vylad.

[modern-inheritance]

Hello! That previous ask got me. Does your au have indoor plumbing or is that still an elven privilege?

Haha, yes, indoor plumbing is indeed a thing. It's not as sophisticated, and it does vary depending on location, race, etc. but we do not have (what I like to call) 'shitwizards' in MIC.

A place like Eragon's farm on the very outskirts of Carvahall would have rudimentary plumbing, requiring some priming/pumping at a well, which could also be done with livestock turning a crank in the mornings to get everything moving and pressurized. Dwarves in more mountainous areas typically use mixes of gravity, spring systems and even geothermal changes to move their water and pressurize plumbing. Elves use a mix of everything, using magic to tap into the massive varieties of pressurization at their disposal, though they can use spring fed, gravity fed and wind powered systems without expending energy just as easily.

Surdan and other city based systems are a bit trickier. I'm no plumber, but I think I have a rudimentary understanding of what's needed to move water and other things around. What I'm not too good with is how you do it on a large scale in the city, without electricity (still trying to move away from it) and without much height difference to ensure water flow.

I'll do some looking into the Romans. Might be able to tinker with some of their systems. They LOVED their plumbing and put it to work on large scales in dense urban environments, though I'm not entirely sure how effective it was when you got really packed in there. Pressure is what's needed most for the kind of stuff we're used to, so supplying it and keeping it up would be difficult 24/7. Surda is a hot climate as well, much like Italy and the surrounding areas.

HmMMmmmmMmmMmmmmMmm............

OH! Right! Welcome welcome! To Modern Inheritance! I've seen your name around a bit lately, always glad to have new people here! What a fantastic ask! I love the ones that make me think like this, it's great for lore building. And it gets me to look into engineering! Splendid! :D

[thebowieconstricker]

Welcome Home Theatre Kid AU! 🎭 🍎 🎶

I have an idea that’s like the cast of Welcome Home except the town of Home is a community theatre and they all just put on plays and musicals so TAKE SOME DRABBLES GO FETCH

Wally Darling is your standard tenor boy that always gets the lead. Also everybody lowkey has a crush on him but no one can tell what he’s into because he just ends up flirting with everyone (he just thinks he’s being friendly but people are swooning left and right). The only thing is he’s not cocky about it, he sees every role as equally important and loves to put on a silly show with his friends.

Barnaby Beagle is, to absolutely NO ONE’S surprise, always the sidekick/comic relief. He’s at the point where auditioning is just a formality, cause he’s always the main characters bestie. But he’s fine with that, he’s happy to support his pals and he has a great time. He’s also the type to argue with the director, constantly saying “I think my character would do this”, but it’s always just to annoy her (the directer is Sally obvi).

Julie Joyful is that one soprano who just. Keeps. Riffing. And they sound great, like go off, but STILL. She’s usually the female lead but she loves to help with everything, painting sets, making costumes, always an extra hand. Also the biggest hype person backstage, cheering everyone on and just so excited all the time.

Frank Frankly is the tenor that always ends up in the shadows. Like they’re singing so beautifully and with such good technique but they always end up in the ensemble??? Like give him a chance??? Also a great shoulder to cry on during tough rehearsals and shudder tech week.

Eddie Dear definitely got into theater because Frank did, and while Frank really would like to be in the spotlight, Eddie is happy to be in the ensemble. He also loves to make up backstories for his characters most of the time it’s that him and Frank are husbands. Eddie also has a lovely bass voice but it’s more fun to just listen to him sing, the technique isn’t really there. Frank doesn’t mind though, you can always catch him smiling when Eddie sings one of his (very few) solos as Townsperson #2. Also he wouldn’t mind cross dressing.

Sally Starlet is your resident done-with-everyone’s-sh!t director. She always starts the show with a vision and it always goes down the drain as soon as rehearsals get started. Very much so stressed and depressed but trying her best tm. Unlike the others, she has a deep passion for the arts, so while everyone else is just having a fun time, Sally is sobbing into her BFA. But the show always ends up going well, so she keeps putting them on.

Poppy Partridge is THE stage mom. Making costumes, finding props, baking sweets for everyone backstage. Yes, it’s very hectic but gosh darn it her children friends need her and her mission in life is to support them. Also on opening night, she’s always front row, crying and clapping and going “BRAVO!” and she has a red rose for everyone.

Howdy Pillar somehow always ends up being stage manager. With all the arms, he’s just most helpful when pulling the curtains or helping to apply mic tap. He’s happy to help the show run smoothly, but dealing with all the backstage shenanigans gives him a headache. Barnaby’s always ready to give him a joke though, so that helps. Also he can tap dance. I don’t make the rules.

[wvba-ringside-gossip]

*the doors bust open as a pair of burly Scottish lassies enter*

"Aye, there ye are! C'mere to us, we've got a question!" (Fiona)

"All our girls 'ave finally arrived so we thought we'd ask, who's yer favourite?" (Moira)

"Also say hello to that Irish lad for us, he's a friend of ours" (Fiona)

"See ya around ye puny bastards!" (Moira)

*The two stomp off cackling*

"I'll...uh...I'll be sure to tell him ya said Hi..."

"Anywhoozles- Obviously I gotta mention Hoggie, me and her just really clicked! She's such a hoot! And surprisingly, I get on well with Sofia too! I think it's cause she's daring Maple Rose, and cause of Hugger's connection to 'er- yadda yadda- you can piece it together. I think yer all swell, though that Frosty is REALLY cold, no pun intended, I-I'm sure we could be friends in the future but I'm not holding much hope unfortunately..."

"I echo Ruby in saying you are very VERY great people. Love talking to each and everyone of you. If I have to pick a favourite though? Bimbette and Lucky for sure! I just see a lot of potential for them, they may be bottom of the bracket but I can tell they're doing their best. Least favourite? That Jasmine really does get me riled up. I don't like her attitude. There is cocky but hers seems on a whole other level entirely. What her brother sees in her as a rolemodel I will never know..."

"..."

"...Uh...Robin?"

"Hmm?"

"You...you gon' answer?"

"Do I have to do it now?"

"Yes, now hurry up"

"Fine..."

"My favourites are easy. Ceyda, Celestia and Clarrisa. Ceyda and I are pretty alright, I've only gotten to know her as much as I have through Bull. Celestia and Sefi get on so naturally we do as well. And Clarissa is a sweetheart, and a real charmer, but I guess that's in her character, isn't it? Least faves would probably be between Phoneix and you twins. I don't dislike you guys, but the attitude can be off-putting. Also, calling us Puny Bastards doesn't really get you on good terms with me either but...yeah..."

"Seriously? That last part seemed a bit half hearted"

"Sorry, I'm just a bit distracted...trying to wrap my head around Sefi's bloody list for groceries"

"Tell her to get it herself!"

"Excuse me? I'm not making my pregnant wife do anything that could risk her losing our baby, you c**t!"

"......"

"W-what?"

"...YOUR F***NG WHAT!?"

---(INTERMISSION)---

"Ahem, is this on?"

*mic tapping*

"Greetings, viewers! Desire here. Yes, you heard that right. Sefina and Robin are expecting parents. We all found out about this fairly recently and we are STOKED!"

"Sonya had the delight and permission of sharing this news to all of us this evening on 'quibbler.com', here see it for yourselves"

"No idea who that last kid is, but our biggest congratulations and best wishes to them both. This, however, means that Robin will not be taking questions for the duration of this, as he will be helping Sefi adjust as well as going through parenting classes for himself.

However, Ruby and Jazzy will still be answering questions for you inquisitive folks out there. So don't stop asking.

Au revoir and Merci to you Robin, see you again in 9 months!"

[swingstep]

Please drop mrd theatre au lore????

OH HOO BOY so. genuinely did not remember i never explained that au huh ksjdngd its been a hot minute since ive messed with that one, but lets see what i can dig up for it. as a disclaimer, its kind of an... abstract au, very rough around the edges as well. dont expect it to be anything too concrete WAHAHA

anyhow. tldr:   the mrd theatre au is exactly what it sounds like: the plot of the game described entirely through the lens of a theater production! alternately referred to as the dance au, because... its a musical! major events are described through dance, each piece pushing the story forward with the power of music and expression. literally-- the story won’t move on without it. starring mad rat as the lead role, rat god as the director, and heart as... That One Guy, Sure!

    the abstraction kicks in in its presentation though-- it's told through the framing of a stage-- however, the story itself is Real to the characters. their world is real, and as characters, they see it as such. to everyone else, it's exactly as its namesake: a play. the term "actor" and "character" go hand in hand, practically synonyms. actors are the characters. the narrative is their world. all in all: the theatre au is an inspection of the meaning of Reality and Perception, the meaning of what it is to be a Character or a Person, and a play on Stories and Roles. more under the cut.

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

  As it does in canon, the narrative starts with Mad Rat waking up, and Rat God telling him his situation. Y'know, he died, she's giving him a second chance, etc etc. However, she Specifically tells him that he is, in fact, a character in a play and, as someone outside of the narrative, she knows what to do and what paths to follow. As long as he followed her, he'd be able to make it to the end of his story a-ok, and finally get the ending he deserved!

  In the beginning, Rat God starts out with a whole musical number as she narrates the scene (to both the audience and Mad Rat) to catch him up to speed on where he is, who she is, and why he died. As she finishes, hands off the (metaphorical) mic to Mad Rat to get a word in for his debut scene. Unfortunately, Mad Rat, having just recovered from a terminal case of Being Dead, Does Not In Fact Have The Nicest Voice. Seeing this, Rat God quickly interrupts and redirects to another option: Dance. Which is where a major quirk comes in: every character has a specialized dance style!

  Rat gods style is tap/swing, which is what the intro scene Truly is! It's Rat God introducing Mad Rat to the concept of The Show in a duet swing performance. Specifically, in this performance, Rat God takes the lead role in this one for several reasons: 1) She's Extra and Likes Showmanship. 2) She's ensuring Mad Rat goes in the direction he's supposed to-- making sure he's following along. And 3) She's effectively re-teaching Mad Rat how to move after. Y'know. Being Dead. Swing is a heavily motion-focused and improvisational dance: Mad Rat Does Not Know How To Dance. However, Rat God is good enough at it that she can take the lead and turn his stumbles and missteps into motion and flair. It's essentially the tutorial stage!

  The narrative is pretty much the same through the first third of the game, more or less. Mad Rat meets Heart, who doesn't really Dance but rather just cheers him on, and they begin "travelling" together, with periodical "intermissions" where Rat God, off to the side of the stage presents recaps, narration, and questions-- but it's never clear if it's to the audience or Mad Rat. Maybe both. What's really important is the Framing, though. Mad Rat (kind of) acknowledges he is just a Character, but doesn't really Understand it. 

  Despite the knowledge, he still functions through the frame of a Character. He perceives the stage as The World Around Him rather than A Stage, while Rat God is the opposite. This leads to Mad Rat essentially just Following Her Lead. Which ends up just seeming... brazenly reckless and incredibly dangerous-- because Mad Rat doesn't think it will lead to anything. Obviously he's the main character, so he's probably going to just... get to his goal and whatever happens happens, right? Rat God said which way the story goes so... whatever, right?

  Which all culminates at Heart's intervention: Heart notices all of this and gets worried. Whatever this Mess about "shows" and "story" and "directors" is, Mad Rat is still being really really flippant about how many Near Death Experiences he's had (not to mention the whole "Seeing Things That Heart Doesn't" thing.) So he decides to step in.

  This is the first time we ever see Heart dance! He'd always insisted on being moral support/backup for Mad Rat, not really stepping in in any major way. Turns out, he's really good at a lot of dance styles. It's the first time we have a music genre outside of showtunes and the adjacent. It's heart basically trying to tell him that, whatever bullshit about "Narratives" he's following, Mad Rat is still Here. He's still a contributor to the world around him-- he can affect It, and it can affect him. It doesn't matter what he knows about Whatever This Is because it all wont matter if he gets himself into Real Trouble. Which is a convenient segue to the next arc-- they go off-script.

  The following arcs are pretty much just those two figuring out what to do and where they’re going. Mad Rat, up to this point, was just (kind of badly) trying to imitate the swing style from the beginning, but slowly starts figuring out his own specialty on his own. Mad Rat kind of dabbles through a lot, but is Particularly good at breakdance/krump. It’s a bit of a slow process, but he slowly forges his own place in a world he technically does not belong in. 

  All the while, Rat God is suspiciously quiet. They weren’t supposed to go that way, or do any of that, But she could improvise. She passively tried to mess with them from offstage-- changing the background scenery, tossing obstacles after them-- but they just. Kept going. Mad Rat even began Understanding the nature of The Stage and learning how to use that to his advantage, predicting the way things would move or shift, and using that knowledge to move even faster. It was only after Mimolette’s scene (which was Not supposed to be this early in the script, to Rat God’s chagrin,) that she Really started to get particularly miffed. They’d completely gone off-script, avoided Everything she sent after them-- but there was still an ending that needed to be told, and she was going to tell it no matter how messy it was to get there. Which leads to an intervention of her own.

  As the director, she had direct control over a lot of things-- but she herself could never interact with the Narrative. She had no real Hold, as it were. She was barely a concept to the characters in the narrative-- they could not really perceive her. So, she decided to break that rule-- and interact with them directly. Rat God’s scene is incredibly similar to that in canon: Incredibly Chaotic and Hard To Track. She mostly keeps to swing, as that’s her specialty, but regularly switches it up to try and throw Mad Rat off. But things are different than their first dance.

  Mad Rat has a grasp on himself and his goals. Rat God’s plan is already off its rhythm-- it was clear from the start that this was a last-ditch effort on her part to kill him. Despite her still trying to take control, Mad Rat was nothing if not stubborn. He was just as good at deflecting and navigating the scene as she was. But it’s hard to truly get rid of something like Rat God. She isn’t done until the Story was done. There was still a story to be told, so here she stayed. She could keep going as long as he could, and longer. So knowing what he did now, and understanding the circumstance, he did the only think of. The two had, to some extent, switched places: Rat God taking the stance of a Character/Participant in the scene, and Mad Rat seeing the full scope of The Stage and how it worked. The show was still going, so all he had to do was end it. 

  Tricking her into a monologue, he truly exits the frame of the narrative for the first time, grabbing one of the curtain ropes and letting it free, closing the curtains on the stage-- with Rat God behind them. And... silence. In the end, it was just the closed curtains, the audience, and Mad Rat and Heart in front of them. They saw the audience, truly, for the first time-- that larger force constantly watching over him from beyond his view, pushing the show forward not of their own actions, but of their presence alone. This is who it was all for. And seeing this, Mad Rat makes the decision... to ignore them. 

  They weren’t important anymore. The show was over-- the audience had no more use here. No more power here. They meant nothing to him. Nothing to them. He has one last talk with Heart-- they knew they weren’t alone, not truly-- but all that mattered right then was just the two of them. What they’d seen, what they’d been through-- it all had to come to an end eventually. But not by the hand of someone who had no stake in their story-- in their lives. Mad Rat gets to make his own choice about his future: And with no story left to tell... he gets up, and walks off the stage. 

   The Story Is Over.

[tomatograter]

What are your thoughts on Dave's bro/Beta Dirk and Grandpa Harley/Beta Jake, as in, how do you feel like their relationship played out in their timeline?

(If you already talked about this in a post I'm so sorry but could you link it?)

I don't think i ever actually talked about this aside from joking, nop. If you mean relationship as in their work dynamic, we know that grandpa employed both mom lalonde and bro strider— whether this was done officially in paid Skaianet positions or just person to person to put plot shit in it's place is like, up to the viewer. Main miss i see frequently is the impression that beta dirk operated alone or got his information alone while the others played npc roles, which is simply not true. If anything grandpa + mom are implicated in the direct coding, orchestration and release of Sburb wayyyy more openly than he is, which makes him look like he's doing fuck all on the side, but they still aren't solitary operators. Dad egbert is legitimately the only guardian who just jumped in for the ride last minute and was prolly clueless during his tragic short time there. Mom could have filled him in when they were onboard the spaceship? Idk.

If you mean their relationship as in romantic relationship, being fairly honest; chances are nothing happened here. Its a bit noticeable that while grandpa does take roxy under his wing and keeps her relatively close to his family (she's included in joey's family crafts even)

The same cannot be said about dirk. (Read the following with a slight sigh:) according to the skaianet archives, beta jake moves up to new york to help raise roxy halfway through working on the development of some "incredibly advanced software" that he will only later discover results in the game, when he finally comes into contact with the artifacts on the frog island; while dirk, all the way out in texas, was set to grow up remotely with a trust fund. Through the items present in Jade's house, particularly the neon colored rooms made vaguely in honor of the other 'alpha' kids, it is somewhat implied that beta jake, like jade at the beginning of HS, had some foreknowledge of things yet to come thanks to Inane Plot Bullshit, and this is joked about/referenced with alpha jake a few times too. (You could blame this on info he got from the ruins or visions from the clouds of prospit or just general story bullshit thanks to the fact the alphas are paradox-people that originated out of themselves ie nothing, and they exist to fill mechanical roles) SO while we get a lot of fond cross-referencing of their interests & dirk's character in a postmortem way in the beta universe—it does feel like he was purposefully avoiding dirk. Reasons vary: The age difference is too dramatic in a fixed timeline, that's not something i think jake would be comfortable with, he's deeply closeted still, they are all literally working against the sands of time and going to die, etc.

The alpha universe provides ideal conditions in that it gives them the opportunity to live a life they simply weren't programmed to before, but i'd be remiss not to mention that even there, dirk is sent 400 years into the future. Running theme.

[babyboibucky]

Promises, promises

Pairing: AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You believed that promises are meant to be broken but Bucky always proved you wrong. Until one day, he proved you right.

Word Count: 6,555 (oops I got carried away lol)

Warnings: Angst, a tiny bit of self-doubt but with a happy ending!!!

A/N: Some tags aren’t working, damn u tumblr! Anyway enjoy the angst and the shitty writing lmfao. Also kinda want to do ficlets for these two??? Like short fics about the happenings in their relationship, their first date, how they dealt with the break up idk, lemme know if anyone’s interested in that xoxo

MAIN MASTERLIST

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It's been four and a half years since Bucky broke up with you and honestly, you're fine now. Fine, as in you've moved on from him and that you haven't been stalking his Instagram account anymore or have been asking Steve how he's doing since the break up. You're fine now, really.

There was not an ounce of denial left in your body after almost two years of pining and self-blame. But that doesn't mean you've forgotten the pain he caused you when he woke up one day and realized that he didn't need you anymore.

Forgive and forget they often told you and you badly wanted to do so. But it wasn't that easy to do, not when you still feel the pain as if it only happened yesterday.

"What did you say?" your forehead creased as you walked around the kitchen counter, quickly approaching Bucky who had his back to you as he stood in the living room of your shared apartment.

You weren't sure if you heard him right, or if he actually said anything. Perhaps you were just hearing things? Just this morning he woke up and greeted you with his charming smile before pressing a soft peck on your lips. You had cooked breakfast together, laughed together and even talked about what to have for dinner.

Sure, something about his demeanor earlier was a bit off, but you assumed it had something to do about his work and not because he wanted to break up with you.

Right?

"Bucky, what did you say?" you pressed when Bucky remained quiet; he didn't even turn around to face you.

He heaved out a deep sigh, "I said I need space." he murmured.

"What do you mean, Buck?" you asked again, voice small and shaky as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

Of course you knew what exactly Bucky meant by that, but you didn't want to believe it. You were hopeful that maybe this was one of those petty fights you used to have, one where Bucky would spend the night over at Steve's. He'll come around the next day, he always does that. You always woke up to him whispering apologies to your ear and you would say your sorry too.

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand before finally turning to you, "I can't do this anymore." he said, shaking his head before averting his gaze to the floor.

He must have seen the look in your eyes when he faced you. As much as you believed that you were pretty good at hiding your emotions, it never worked on Bucky. He was the only person who could always read you; you could never hide from him.

"Bucky, I don't understand." you let out a nervous chuckle as you hugged yourself, biting your lower lip to prevent them from quivering as you held back the urge to cry.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, "I just...you've been too...fuck, I don't know how to say this without hurting you. I really don't want to." he admitted dejectedly, looking up at you.

You scoffed, "Just fucking say it, Bucky. I'm already hurt just by having this conversation." you told him.

"You're too good for me. Way too good."

Bucky’s words echoed in your mind again as you laid your eyes on him, four and a half years after your break-up. And just like that, you were back to square one.

You did your best to avoid him after he left, you felt like Bucky too tried to do the same. It was harder than you thought, given that you belonged to the same circle of friends. There were missed birthday parties, anniversaries and get togethers. If you knew Bucky was going to be there, you’d bail. Thank god you had a bunch of understanding friends who never took your absences against you.

But an engagement party between two of your friends? Now that was something you wouldn’t want to miss out on.

You’ve been really happy for quite a while now, to the point that it never crossed your mind that Bucky would surely be attending as well. He had been out of your system since the day you decided to move past him, which is why you thought that you were finally a-okay.

Tonight proved you wrong because as you watched Bucky smile and greet your friends, you realized that you still wanted to punch him and hurt him and tell him that you were still in lo—

“Hi.”

You were too focused on daydreaming about how you wanted to hurt Bucky that you failed to notice that he made his way to you and was now waiting for you to greet him back.

Bucky was smiling at you the same way he did on the night you first met at a college house party. You and Bucky have been together for that long.

“Hi.”

The music was too loud that you missed out on the stranger’s greeting, if not for his shadow looming over your hunched figure as you sat on the staircase, you would’ve completely ignored him.

The guy was looking down at you with a charming smile that made your cheeks turn pink. He was tall and slightly muscular, something you noticed right off the bat all thanks to the tight red henley he was sporting. The guy had long hair too, but it was tied back into a low man bun that was messy enough to leave tendrils of stray hair to frame his handsome face.

“Hi.” He repeated with a chuckle, a hint of amusement laced in his tone as he bit his lip at the sight of you just staring up at him.

“Hi?” You stammered awkwardly.

He laughed, “Um, can I pass through or is there some sort of password required?”

You realized that you had been blocking his way, everyone’s way actually. Quickly, you apologized and stood up to leave your spot only for the guy to block your way before you could even hop off of the last step of the staircase.

Thinking that you must have confused him and the direction you intended to go, you murmured a soft apology again before sidestepping him but to no avail. You looked up at him with a frown when you noticed that he was intentionally blocking your way.

It didn’t help that he was way taller than you. Despite the one being on the last step of the staircase, the guy still loomed over you.

“Excuse me?” You snapped and tried to move past him but he was way bigger than you and managed to stop you from passing through.

He had a cheeky smile on as he watched your futile attempt to squeeze your way out of his large body. You huffed out when he held onto the rail while his other hand on the wall, completely trapping you on the staircase.

“What’s the password?” He asked, still grinning at you.

You deadpanned, “Are you kidding me?”

He shook his head, “Nope.”

You stared at him blankly before glancing at his hands, observing whether you had a chance at prying them away from where they held on. It was then that you noticed how his left hand was covered in tattoos. The sleeve of his henley rode up quite a bit to reveal that his tattoos reached his wrist, he probably had his entire left arm sleeved with ink.

“Can I please pass?” You huffed out when you concluded that there was no way you would be able to escape him.

“Like I said, I need a password.” He insisted.

“Penis.” You stated, face free from any sort of expression.

The guy choked on his laughter, “Why would you honestly think that?” He asked incredulously.

You shrugged, “I thought you guys liked dick jokes.” You reasoned out.

The guy laughed as he shook his head, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“It’s not the password?” You asked. “Don’t I get a hint or something, I really don’t have time for games right now. I have to go back to my dorm. I have a test tomorrow.” You told the guy.

“I can’t believe you’re thinking about a test. What’s your major anyway?” He asked.

You groaned, “Like I said, I don’t have time for games or even for a conversation. Come on, just let me pass through!”

The guy hummed as he stared at you, as if he was thinking of something. You wanted to look away but he had beautiful ocean blue eyes that you found yourself slowly getting lost in.

“I’ll give you hints.” He announced. “Two hints actually, because I’m feeling generous.”

“Okay, then. Just spit it out!” You rushed.

The guy grinned.

“The password is made up of your name followed by your number.”

“Hi.”

You blinked when Bucky repeated his greeting. When you regained your senses, you cleared your throat and simply nodded at him as acknowledgment. You saw how Bucky’s smile faltered seconds before you looked away and pretended to look for someone.

“I can’t believe you just brushed me off.” He chuckled, running his fingers through his hair.

Bucky had cut off his hair right after graduation. He sported a clean cut since then but now he had longer locks; not as long as his college hair though. It just looked fluffier, you fought the urge to imagine how it’d feel through your fingers.

“I can’t believe you just expected me to greet you as if nothing happened.” You told him, letting your eyes wander around the place.

Bucky exhaled heavily and shook his head, “I thought we’d be okay by now.” He admitted. “Guess I was wrong.”

You clicked your tongue in irritation, snapping your head into his direction after avoiding his gaze earlier. “I am okay, but that doesn’t mean I am okay with being around you.” You hissed.

“I honestly thought we’d still be friends, you know. Civil at least.”

What has gotten into Bucky’s mind for him to expect a lovely reunion between the both of you? Things didn’t end well, he just left. He was too ambitious to even think that you’d greet him with rainbows and butterflies.

“We’re not friends, Bucky. Not even acquaintances.” You told him.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something until someone tapped on the mic, announcing that the newly engaged couple, Wanda and Vis, had something to say to their guests. By the time he looked back at you, you had already walked away and joined Nat at their table.

It reminded Bucky of the days when he used to watch your back retreat into your dorm whenever he walked you home.

“So, you gonna tell me the password or what?”

You felt all your blood rush to your head and you’ve never been thankful for existence of strobe lights. You were probably red as a tomato. Who wouldn’t be anyway? This handsome dude just asked for your name and number!

“Is this a joke?” You managed to asked and thanked the heavens that you didn’t stutter.

The guy shook his head, “I don’t really joke around.” He shrugged.

“Why do you even want to know my name and number?” you curiously asked.

Bucky shrugged, “Been watching you since you arrived.”

“Creeper.” you accused.

“Hard not to when you’re the only grumpy person in a party. I know your friends dragged you here, I mean you said you have a test tomorrow and you don’t seem the type to party a day before. Besides, you’ve been keeping to yourself the entire time. Figured you might want some company, one with substance.” he boastfully wiggled his eyebrows at you.

His confidence appalled you but you were also surprised at how he seemed to have read your mind. Or personality, in general.

“Hey, Bucky!”

You watched the guy turn his head towards front door where a blonde guy— Steve from the student council, you recognized— entered. You thought it’d give you a chance to slip away but the guy, well Bucky, kept his hands in place.

“Kinda busy right now, pal. I’ll catch up with you later.” He said.

Steve’s gaze moved past Bucky until they landed on you. He chuckled as he shook his head at his friend’s antics. Steve walked away but not without acknowledging you.

“He may not seem like it, but Bucky’s a good guy. You can take my word for it.”

Bucky turned to you and lifted an eyebrow, “I mean, coming from a student council member, that’s a pretty credible source.” He said confidently.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. You had to admit, Bucky had a way with words and actions. His boyish charm was working on you and you hated how easily you were falling for it. And you just met the guy like ten minutes ago!

“So, what’s the password?” Bucky asked again.

You tapped your foot as you crossed your arms over your chest, “You promise to let me go if I tell you?”

Bucky made a face, “I don’t think that’s the right term because you can expect more of me once you give me the password. But I’ll definitely step aside. That’s a promise.” He reassured.

“Promises are meant to be broken.” You stated.

“Yeah, well watch me prove you wrong. Password? Pretty please?” He asked cutely and fuck, Bucky was really winning you over just like that.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you tell him your name and number. Just as he promised, Bucky stepped aside and quickly fished out his phone to type in your number. You honestly didn’t expect for him to remember it after hearing it once, but you peeked and he actually did. Impressive.

“Like I promised, off you go to study.” He said and motioned his arm towards the front door.

You sighed and offered a small smile before finally walking past him. You were about to open the front door when Bucky beat you to it.

“I told you ‘let go’ is the wrong term ‘cause I’m walking you home tonight.” Bucky said. “And tomorrow night too. And the next night and the next next night. Or afternoon. Morning? Whatever time your classes finish.”

Bucky really proved you wrong that night because he did walk you home the next night and the next next night too. It went on until he no longer had to watch you enter your dorm or apartment because eventually, the two of you ended up going to the same home.

It’s very ironic really, that it was also Bucky who failed to prove you wrong when he broke his promise not to hurt you, ever. You wondered whether it was your fault that you actually believed in him. It was hard not to though, because Bucky’s earned your trust from all the promises he made and kept.

Which is why it was even more painful when one day, he decided to break the one promise you truly held on to.

“I’ll always love you, you know that right?”

Bucky blurted it out randomly that his statement confused the hell out of you. The two of you were just playing a video game when he said it, making you hit pause.

“And where did that come from?” You asked with amusement.

Bucky frowned, “You could’ve reacted differently. I was hoping for a high-pitched ‘awwww!’ and this is what I get?” He teased, taking your chin in between his index finger and thumb to pull you close so he could bite your nose playfully.

“You said it out of the blue!” You told him with a laugh. “But it made me happy though.” You admitted and kissed his cheek.

“Yeah, well it’s true. I mean, this thing we got? It’s forever.” Bucky said and lovingly smiled at you.

You pretended to gag at his words but it was obvious that you felt like you were on cloud nine when Bucky said that. “Cheeseballs!” You teased.

“This cheeseball’s gonna put a ring on that finger one day. That’s a promise!”

A finger snapped right in front of your face, “You good?” Nat asked.

You nodded and tried your hardest not to look at Bucky. He was seated with Steve, Sam and some other guys at the table next to yours. You could feel him staring at you and it was making you anxious.  Nat and Sharon exchanged looks before letting out a sigh in unison.

“Come on, I’m fine. Stop looking at me like that!” You told them with a forced chuckle.

“What did Bucky say?” Sharon asked. She’d seen Bucky approach you upon his arrival, saw the expressions you both had as you talked and knew immediately that it didn’t go well.

Nat hummed before taking a quick sip from her glass of wine, “We’ve been watching and we’re curious.”

“He was expecting for us to be friends.” You simply stated.

Nat and Sharon groaned and rolled their eyes, “What a dick.” Nat said.

“Men really do have the audacity.” Sharon laughed and shook her head.

You joined her laughter and lifted up your own glass of wine, “I’ll drink to that.” You said before finishing your drink in one go.

One glass of wine turned into two and then three and then four. Six drinks later and you were buzzed and unstoppable. You weren’t that drunk, you were good at handling alcohol but you were tipsy for sure. The formalities of the engagement party were finally done and the guests were left to mingle around.

Wanda and Vis immediately went to your table to catch up and after giving them your heartfelt congratulations (and apologies for missing out on plenty of events), you decided to step out of the venue to get some fresh air.

The silence allowed you to process your thoughts, the same thoughts you had repressed for years. You were happy for Wanda and Vis, truly. The two have been the epitome of soulmates and it was only right for them to end up tying the knot. But you also couldn’t help but wonder, would you and Bucky end up in marriage too had he decided to stay and work things out with you?

You lift up your left hand and stared at your bare ring finger. Just a few years ago, you’d been wearing a simple gold band studded with tiny diamonds around it— a promise ring. Bucky had given it as a gift on your 6th anniversary. You’d gotten together when you were just 19 and Bucky 21. People always doubted that your relationship with him wouldn’t last long given that the two of you were so different. Not to mention, Bucky had a reputation. Girls fawned over him; he was tall and handsome, had a rugged appeal to him thanks to his long hair and tattooed left arm. He drove a damn motorcycle that got him into trouble plenty of times.

You were Miss Goody Two Shoes who played it safe and Bucky was the Big Bad Wolf who liked taking risks.

It was a surprise when your relationship with him kept on progressing and the next thing you knew, the both of you have been together for a total of eight long years. It would’ve reached nine but shit happened and Bucky decided that those eight years didn’t matter to him anymore.

“Can we talk?”

If Bucky asked you that a couple of years ago, you would’ve probably punched him in the face and kneed him at the crotch before running away. Well, you still wanted to do so but a part of you wanted to talk things out. Get a proper closure maybe since Bucky failed to give you a detailed explanation that would help you understand why he chose to leave you.

Nat told you once that some things are better left unsaid. You spent years secretly pining for Bucky after the break up, spent nights questioning yourself where you lacked that made him leave you. You’d asked Steve about Bucky whether he met someone knew or how he was dealing with the break up; it did you more damage than good until you finally gave up and decided to actually move on.

But now that Bucky was here and there was no way to avoid him, maybe you deserved this confrontation after all.

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the pavement right in front of you.

You felt Bucky stand beside you, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans before turning to you, “About us.”

You snickered, “Us? What about us? What is there to talk about us?” You asked, turning your head to face him.

Bucky’s eyes have always been your favorite feature of his. They were very expressive and if Bucky could see through you every damn time, it was his eyes that you could always read. They were still blue but they held a certain emotion in them as he gazed at you.

Sadness and...regret?

Before your assumptions could get the best of you, you turned away and waited for Bucky to speak again.

“I can’t keep on avoiding you.” He said. “I’ve been doing so for the past few years and it kills me.” He admitted.

“And you think I want to keep doing this too? I’ve missed out on so many occasions because I just couldn’t be around you. You’re not the only one struggling.” You said.

Bucky shrugged, “Then let’s stop avoiding each other.”

The way he suggested it almost offended you; he was so nonchalant about it as if it was so easy to just let him waltz back into your life. Truth was, you dreamt of the day that he’d come crawling back to you. But you knew better than to let your walls down just because you miss him.

“When Steve told me that you seemed to be doing well, I really thought it meant that we can become friendly with each other, y’now. I mean, eight years. Those years meant so much to me, we’ve been through a lot and—“

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Barnes?!” You bitterly chuckled.

“If those eight years together really meant a lot to you, you would’ve stayed. You would’ve allowed me to work it out with you! But what, you broke up with me because you thought I was too good for you? That you felt suffocated just because I was looking out for you?”

You didn’t mean to snap at Bucky like that, in your mind you thought you would be able to have a calm conversation with him. But with the alcohol running through your body, you couldn’t stop yourself from expressing yourself and and feeling the same way you did on that specific night.

“Too good? How am I too good for you, Buck?” You asked, immediately wiping off the tears that escaped your eyes.

“You have everything planned out! For yourself, for us. And it makes me feel fucking useless! I see you work your way up at your job and I’m still figuring out what the hell I want to do with my life!” He exclaimed.

You shook your head, “I didn’t know you felt that way.” You whispered. “If you told me this then I could’ve done something about it, Buck! Rather than let it get this far, I would’ve fixed it.” You told him and tried to reach out but Bucky took a step back.

“That too! You’re a fixer! You always end up fixing things. This relationship has become an endless cycle of me fucking up things and you picking up the pieces. And every single time you clean my mess, I feel like you’re hoping I’d be like the others. It’s like you’re trying to make me into a person I’m not just so I could fit this, this certain mold you had in mind!” He accused you.

You wiped again your tears and refused to believe him, “That’s not true, Bucky! I’ve always loved you for who you are, I never asked you to change for me!”

“Yes, you do! You never said it but I always felt it...when Steve got promoted and when Sam finally launched his business. You always wanted me to be like them, you never said it out loud but that’s what you made me feel whenever we talk about my job...or lack thereof.” He chuckled bitterly.

Bucky may not be traditional in the sense that he considered himself an artist. He never liked the idea of settling for a nine to five desk job so he took on a job as a tattoo artist. It wasn’t a permanent job and he didn’t have clients demanding for him all the time so it gave him time to work for a motorcycle shop too.

It was never a problem for you but practically speaking, your and Bucky’s joint savings wouldn’t be enough for the future that the both of you have planned out.

“I’ve been supportive of you! I never asked you to give up on those jobs, Bucky.” You defended yourself.

Bucky nodded his head, “You don’t know it but you do. That’s how I felt whenever you suggested that I try something else.”

“It’s because I know you can do so much more! Stay at the tattoo parlor and mechanic shop, then fine! But don’t settle because you have the potential to make it out there, that’s what I want you to know! I don’t understand why you’re limiting yourself, Buck. Why you’re suddenly so afraid.”

You carefully took a step closer to Bucky and thank god he let you this time. You swallowed the lump in your throat and reached out to cup his face in your hand. Bucky was livid, his chest rising heavily with every breath he took.

“You were the one who taught me to be brave, to take risks. I used to be so afraid, remember? Afraid to ride your motorcycle, to try out that job I thought I couldn’t handle. I was so scared to commit,” you chuckled, remembering how much you hesitated to give Bucky a chance when he asked you to be officially his girlfriend.

“...but you’ve always been there for me. And I want to do the same with you. I know that it seems scary to let go of what you believe is your calling. You don’t have to let go of it, Buck. But you gotta try something new too.” You said as you let your thumb caress the skin beneath his eyes.

There was silence between the two of you. Bucky had calmed down and you thought that it was over. Little did you know that it was simply the calm before the storm. Because the words that came out of Bucky’s mouth were the words you didn’t expect to hear.

“Well, this is me trying something new.”

Bucky refused to meet your gaze and simply let your hand move away from his face. You shook your head no as you turned around to compose yourself.

“We were fine this morning, Buck. What happened?” You asked and embraced yourself, seeking comfort you knew you’d only get if Bucky changed his mind.

“I thought we were fine too. But the tattoo parlor is closing in a month and we haven’t been getting plenty of clients at the motorcycle shop. And it just hit me y’now, I dread coming home to you because I know you’d be disappointed and that again, you’d offer to fix my shit and the thing is, I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to fix my shit or tell me how to deal with my problems! I woke up and realized that I just don’t...” Bucky paused when you swiftly turned around with a frown, eyes brimming with a fresh new wave of tears.

“Don’t say it, Bucky. I’ll be better, I promise! I won’t nag you or pressure you into anything. Just please, don’t say it. Please don’t. We can still work this out.” You begged Bucky.

You weren’t sure you could take it, what he wanted to say. You already knew what he was going to tell you, you didn’t want to hear it. Let other people say it but god, it’d break you if you heard it from him.

“I’m sorry but I don’t need you anymore.”

The stabbing pain in your heart felt so familiar, the kind that punched all the air out of your lungs. You thought you were done crying over Bucky, but you were so wrong.

“I fucked up.” Bucky huffed out, bowing his head as if ashamed.

“You realized that just now?” You snickered. “Do you know how long it took for me to get over you? To forget the pain from hearing you tell me that you don’t need me anymore? After eight years together, Buck. You were my first everything and you gave up on us. And you really expected us to be friends, just like that?!” You spat.

“I’m sorry!” Bucky exclaimed, lifting his head to look up at you and you were surprised that his eyes were glazed with tears.

“I was wrong, I was so fucking wrong. Because you were right, I shouldn’t have settled then. But god I was an idiot, an insecure idiot.” He admitted.

“I was so used to being the one who guided you that it fucking hurt my ego when I noticed that you were becoming your own person outside of our relationship. I was supposed to be the one supporting you, pushing you to be better. You ended being the one leading me. I let my ego get the best of me and thought I’d be better off without you. But it was the biggest mistake of my life because when I left, I felt even more lost.” Bucky explained.

You were left speechless, you weren’t sure why Bucky was telling you all this. Did he want you back or was he simply apologizing? You didn’t have words so you remained quiet and waited to see whether Bucky had more to say.

“I’m so sorry, I really am. I hurt you. I should’ve stayed, should’ve worked with you to fix our relationship. I hate what we’ve become, I sincerely wanted us to be civil with each other at least.” He said.

“Bucky, you’ve been saying the same thing over and over again. I’m not sure you understand the situation. I can’t be friends with you. Not after what happened. I thought I was fine but now I realized that I’ve never really moved on from the pain you caused me.” You told him and sniffed, looking back to check whether your friends could see you.

Thankfully, all the guests were still busy mingling with each other. It’s as if the universe meant for this confrontation to happen. But now you weren’t sure what to do after you finally got a clear explanation from Bucky.

“I wanted a fresh start with you.” Bucky said. “Thought that it would make it easier for me to win you over if we were friends again.”

You scoffed in disbelief, “It’s not that easy, Buck. I can’t just let you walk back into my life after your apology. It doesn’t work that way.”

You tried to move past him but he immediately blocked your way, “When I said I’ll always love you, I meant it. I still do. I want to make things right, please. Give me one last chance to fix this.”

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, maybe it was Bucky’s words and how sincere he sounded that made your head spin. Your heart was racing and your palms turned cold. You wanted him back too, so bad but you weren’t sure if it was a good idea. He broke your heart and your trust, you weren’t sure if you’d survive if he left you again.

“I can’t continue this conversation, Bucky. I have to go.” You told him and made your way towards the door to the venue.

However, Bucky was quick to stand in front of the door. He had a determined look on his face, one that looked extremely familiar. You were still hurt but couldn’t deny the fact that you too, still love him.

Even after everything that had happened, Bucky still owned your heart.

“Bucky, can you please move? I want to go home.” You said and tried to reach for the door knob but Bucky moved and leaned against the door.

“You need a password to get through.”

You rolled your eyes, “We’re way too old for this, Bucky. I’m not playing with you.”

He shook his head, “I’m not playing either. Give me the password or else we’d be here the entire night.”

You huffed out, “This isn’t funny. Let me through.”

Bucky shrugged, “No can do. Like I said, I can do this all night.”

You deadpanned, “What’s the hint?” You asked with a defeated sigh, knowing well enough that there was no way you could walk past him without playing along with his stupid little game.

“Consists of three words.” Bucky said.

“Penis boobs vagina.”

Bucky cackled, “And I thought you said we’re too old for this.”

You groaned, “I’m serious, Bucky. Just let me go.”

“No. I made that mistake once and I’m not doing that again. I love you. And I promise that this time, it’ll be different. I know you still love me too, so again I am asking you to take a risk and say it.”

Bucky said it with conviction and you hated how it made your stomach flip. Up until this day, Bucky had a way to make you fold. And he could still read you.

“I’m not saying it, Bucky. How sure are you that I still feel the same anyway?” you asked.

Bucky tipped his head towards your neck, “Not sure if you just forgot but you’re wearing the promise ring as a necklace.”

Fuck. Of course, you’d forgotten about it. You may not have been wearing it on your finger, but you still continued to wear it. It meant a lot to you even after the break up, so much so that you couldn’t simply throw it away or remove it. You figured that it might be better to keep it around your neck. Out of sight, out of mind but still there. You wanted it to exist, it was a part of you.

“Say it and I promise that you won’t regret it.” Bucky insisted.

“Promises are meant to be broken. You proved that the night you broke up with me.” Your voice quivered when you said that.

“And I want to make it up for it for the rest of my life.” He reassured.

“History repeats itself. I don’t think I can deal with it again if you realized the second time around that you don’t need me. Buck, you really hurt me.” You said, voice cracking before you could even finish your sentence.

Bucky quickly took your face in between his hands and for some reason, it felt right. The warmth of his palm, the love in his eyes as he gazed at you, it felt like home.

“I know and I hate myself for it. So fucking much. But I promise you, it wouldn’t happen again. I fixed my life when you left, realized that you were right. I’m better now. So let me be the fixer this time, let me be the one to fix this mess, to pick up the pieces. Because I’m just as afraid to let you go again. I can’t do that again. I love you and I need you. I always did.”

The kiss he pressed on your forehead caused your walls to crumble down. All of a sudden you were sobbing into his arms and apologizing.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you then, Buck. I didn’t know, I’m sorry too.” You cried.

“Shh, no. Please don’t apologize.” Bucky coaxed as he pulled back to kiss your tears away. “None of this was your fault, baby. It’s all on me. Let me make it up to you, please?”

The term of endearment made your heart flutter and as much as you hated how Bucky easily won you over, again, the love you have for him was quick to outweigh it. You knew you shouldn’t have given in to him just like that, but this was Bucky. He was your greatest love, someone who owned your heart even after he left.

“I miss you, baby. Couldn’t fathom the thought of you being with someone else.” Bucky admitted as he hugged you tightly.

“I was so stupid, so fucking stupid. I hated myself for hurting you. I won’t do it again, I swear.”

His hand rubbed circles against your back, helping you calm down after your breakdown. He swayed you from side to side, pressed kisses on your crown and whispered promises that he was sure he was going to keep and you basked in it. When you finally calmed down, you pressed your face into Bucky’s neck and inhaled his scent.

He smelled the same, like comfort and love and trust. You hugged him tighter and smiled into his skin and mumbled, “I love you.”

Bucky chuckled, “You got the password right but I don’t think I’m letting you go just yet.”

“Nat and Sharon’s gonna kick our asses if they find out.” You chuckled.

He pulled back and stared at you lovingly, “I’ll take the hit for you.” he laughed.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled again, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Forgiven.” You told him and stood on your tiptoes until Bucky bent down to meet your lips in a kiss.

You sighed into the kiss. Four and a half years of pain and anger all gone and replaced with the love you always had for Bucky. His lips against yours made you dizzy but in a good way.

It felt right, like this was how things were really supposed to be.

You pulled back and sighed, “As much as I want to stay like this, I’m really tired.”

Bucky let you go but took your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m driving you home tonight.” He said.

You smiled.

“And the next night. And the next next night.”

Yet again, Bucky proved himself to be worthy of another chance. Because he drove you home the next night, and the next next night. It went on until he regained your trust back and all was well enough for him to finally reveal the black velvet box that he had been keeping in his pocket since the night of your eventful reunion.

“You need a password to see what’s inside.” Bucky grinned up at you as he bent down on one knee.

You chuckled through your years, “Any hint?”

“One word, three letters.”

You wiped away your tears with a smile followed by a subtle nod.

“Yes.”

Bucky kept his promise all along, he really did put a ring on your finger. Took quite a while with plenty of obstacles that caused its delay, but a promise fulfilled nonetheless.

-

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