#*cough* Excuse me my lit major is showing

[agirlandherquill]

the calendar project - day 5 & 6

i confess, this one's a day late but after spending six hours (to bath and back - gorgeous, bookish place that it is, had so much fun) travelling on a train i was too tired by the time i got home to write

so to make up for it, i'll combine what i would've written yesterday if i didn't resemble a zombie crawling in the door (morning after the trip, 11km of walking hits HARD) and today's writing - so, double whammy, and an even longer post for you to enjoy

roughly each day i know what i want to write following my outline, so it's not a major issue to catch up, and these next few pages - well, they're possibly some of my favourites

daily page count (cough, double whammy, cough): 8

time spent: (i got invested, not an excuse but also sorta is - and it's the day after the hottest one of the year, it's still warm and i'm sitting in a chair under the shade of an olive tree with my laptop so what else was i gonna do but write? ((could read but genius that i am i forgot to grab a book)) ): 2 hours

so, here's the double whammy, and i hope you enjoy this chaos as much as i do,

Of all the places in a castle, every dark, decrepit corner, the last place he expected to find himself conducting business was the library. A room so ridiculously large it tempted a laugh from him, but he covered it with a scowl, there were many books, almost all of them under-appreciated and covered with the foul sheen of newness, never been touched - almost, for a few caught his eye nestled within the alcove of shelves the King directed him to. Sitting on a shelf roughly at the height of his shoulders were four books, their spines showed just the smallest hint of appreciation - whoever had read them had done so with care, it relieved him to know that at least someone in this place appreciated literature - it disgusted him to see the rest of the library, standing at two stories with golden ladders connected the shelves the books were a show of grandeur, a work of art, meant to impress rather than engage the mind. Cindere at its finest, why doesn’t that surprise me?

“Sit with me Reid and we can discuss why I summoned you.” The King lowered himself into one of two leather armchairs tucked away in the alcove, a small table sat between the two, large enough only for a candle which was lit, offering a comfortable atmosphere - but Reid felt anything but. Where the King lounged calmly in his chair, Reid remained at the edge of his seat, every muscle tense.

“Why am I here?”

The King glanced at the candle flickering between them, then to Reid, eyeing the sword that rested against the seat, “You have the finest mercenaries in Cindere at your disposal, correct?”

He’s testing me. Reid went about his response calmly, indifferently, “You know that, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of summoning me, sire.”

Whatever test there had been, he seemed to have passed, as the King nodded. His following silence bothered Reid, it left his mind to wander, to calculate, and then when he could stand the silence no more, to talk, to be more upfront than he initially intended to be. “What is it that you want? What could possibly be worth all this cloak and dagger when you have entire armies at your beck and call?”

“A matter I trust only to an outsider… Not my closest friends.”

“What?” He repeated, firmly, growing tired of the King’s knack for skirting around the subject. He wanted facts, not explanations, not further questions.

“I want you to kill my wife.”

Reid gripped the sides of his armchair, the only signs of a reaction he allowed himself to show. This man is asking me to commit treason by his own command - I’ve never heard something so ridiculous in all my life, but this man is not one for laughing, there is no hint of a smile on his face, he means it, he really does. 

“You want me to kill the Queen?” Reid tested the words aloud, they felt wrong even to his ears.

“Was I not clear?” Something resembling a frown crossed his face, Reid watched him carefully - to earn the King’s wrath was not something a sensible man aimed to do, and he prided himself on being somewhat sensible. “You want me to commit treason?”

“For the reward I have a feeling you of all people would do anything - I mean that as a compliment, not to insult your integrity.”

“That depends on the reward.”

“A key.”

Reid relaxed in his seat, it was that or falling out of it, so instead he calmly fell backward. “To the gates?”

“The one and only.”

A key out of this place, a key to the infernal structures that seal Cindere from the rest of the world, and the most valuable thing I could ever own - For a reward like that, even Reid had to admit, it was worth considering. It was a way out from the place he hated.

An assassination, a royal one, is going to be difficult. No. Impossible. He narrowed his eyes. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

An amused laugh rumbled from the King’s throat, “You’re far better than your reputation paints you to be. Yes, there is. To ensure this task remains out of common knowledge you will undertake it with a colleague of mine.”

“A soldier?”

“No, colleague.” He reaffirmed. Reid bristled. He wants someone to babysit me and my team. “We do not take kindly to strangers.”

A colleague. Could he be any more vague? 

“The reward is worth it, wouldn’t you say so?”

Reid bit the inside of his cheek. It could be, but it could be a disaster. “What are the other terms?” If I’m even going to consider this task I need to know exactly what I’m getting myself into.

“My colleague is not to know the identity of whom you seek.”

“And how am I expected to go about my business?”

“Involve them, work as you must, but the most important detail of this is that they will not know, is that understood?”

Reid wanted to laugh in the man’s face, it was madness, but the more he thought about, the more he realised - “It can be done.”

The King seemed pleased, he clasped Reid on the shoulder, “Good, because you’re about to meet them.”

A knock came from behind the bookcase opposite the alcove, Reid went to draw his sword but hesitated, heeding the King’s words. If I’m to meet my supposed partner for all of this, first impressions matter. Swords, or lack thereof, matter.

The King’s command echoed from the books. “Enter.”

There was a click and the bookcase swung open, Reid’s interest in his business leapt to new heights and it took every sheer ounce of will he had to stop his jaw from hitting the floor as his eyes roved over the newcomer.

I can’t believe it. I really can’t.

My partner. My colleague.

It’s her.

~ ~ ~

Sealing the hidden entrance behind her offered only a few seconds of opportunity to collect herself, she seized them desperately, pushing against the bookcase to steady the tremble to her hand, the hammering of her heart at the sight of him. Him. What is he doing here? Why has the King summoned me? Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to greet them. 

The King waved her closer, “Come, come, there’s someone I would like you to meet.”

His green eyes pierced her soul, under the weight of his gaze she approached, fingers brushing the sides of her gown to calm herself.

“Well lad, don’t just sit there, introduce yourself.” The King’s grumble made her flinch, the stranger sprung to his feet, extending a hand. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

She stared at his hand as her mind absorbed his words, Is that how he’s playing this? Fine. The stranger cleared his throat, his fingers twitching, “Reid Eldrich.”

“I don’t believe we have.” She took his hand, shaking it only too briefly, for the King’s stare over his shoulder hit her hard. Groaning internally, she forced herself to carry out her side of the introduction. “Isolde Mirenna.”

The callouses on his hand only heightened her suspicion. With the sword, he must be a soldier, or something close to it. Upon dropping his hand she wiped her palm against her muslin skirt.

The King rose from his chair, “Isolde, you’re going to help Reid with a job, on my behalf.”

“A job?” Her morbid curiosity got the better of her once again, she knew better than to ask but the stranger drew interest from her, as though he was a thief invading her common sense. Reid stood calmly, there was nothing to his posture that gave his thoughts away. “Dealing with a traitor.”

The King intercepted her questions before she could ask them. “Your expertise is needed, no-one knows the court better than you, you’re needed to find this traitor, is that clear?”

A fury bloomed under her skin. He knows he’s right, he knows he’s trapped me, I cannot refuse this, refuse him… Or can I? She eyed Reid, though she did not address him, “And if I don’t wish to help him?”

“He requires your aid, therefore, you will.”

If there is a traitor in our midst, the only hope of identifying them rests on my hands. There is no-one else that knows these people as well as I. 

She turned to the King, “A word, your Majesty?”

“Certainly.”

She led him to the furtherest corner of the library and let her irritation vent as it would. “You cannot expect this of me, you know I gave up that side of my life, I don’t do-Do that- anymore!”

“I am not asking you to do that. I am asking you to help, and if the situation requires it you will do what is necessary - and Isolde, I’m sure you know this, but no-one-”

“Must know. Yes, clearly. But I would have an easier time bargaining with a rabid wolf!”

“Isolde,” The King’s sigh made her pause, “I need you to do this, please.”

“You ask too much.”

“I’m not asking you to give yourself away, keep your past as you choose, it is not my business nor his, but let it help you, let it help your country.”

How can I say no to this? She pressed her fingers into the folds of her skirt, nodding reluctantly. “Very well.”

“Good,” The King smiled, relief clear on his face, “Now get to know him, and please, be nice, you’re going to be together for a while.”

“I’m never anything but nice.”

“Isolde.” He shook his head with a sigh, and bid her goodbye. She heard a door slam then gave herself a moment to adjust to the situation. I have to babysit this man, a man who seems to have forgotten earlier entirely, what am I going to do?

She flinched at a thud. Tell me that is not a book. She walked back to the alcove to find Reid studying a book, a red cover all too familiar to her, she swiped it from his grasp. “Do not touch that.”

“Why not?”

“I happen to prefer books unspoilt by those who lack the ability to understand them.”

“Forgive me, but this rabid wolf knows how to read.”

She tensed. “You heard?”

“You are loud when irritated. It was difficult not to.”

It doesn’t matter, it’s right. She ignored him and set the book back in its place. Reid chuckled behind her, “You don’t particularly like me, do you?”

“If I don’t know you, how can I possibly dislike you?” He is more of a stranger to me now than he was then.

Only that wasn’t true, she did know him.

He was the one who taught her to see the stars.

~ ~ ~

Guilt struck him more harshly than he expected. I offended her, I thought I was doing us both a favour - now I see my mistake. 

He sought to remedy it. “You go to great lengths to answer a man’s question.”

Isolde spun, her eyes sharp, “Excuse me?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t until Isolde shoved him against the bookcase, almost tripping over an armchair, that he realised the error of his words. I sound like a right bastard. Instead of making things better, I’ve made them worse. “What I meant-”

“For the sake of our earlier conversation, I will not stuff a book down your throat, but don’t you ever speak to me like that again.”

“So I have the honour of another conversation?”

“You’re behaving like one of them.” She glared at him, hands digging against his biceps, it almost humoured him, but instead of laughing he opted to speak, “You know, for someone of your stature I wouldn’t have expected this.”

“What?”

“You’re accosting me, in a private alcove.” He found the humour in it, and hoped she would to. Reid was not disappointed. “You could stop me just as easily.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

She stepped back, shaking her head at him. “You are a bastard and a rake.” Harsh as her words were he detected a hint of amusement. “You can’t insult me, you hardly know me.”

“I know a little, Reid.” She spoke his name as though it were a curse, as if knowing it plagued her, and for all he knew, perhaps it did. Because her name did the same. I have a name, that pleasure is more than I had before this, so perhaps this business will be worth the reward after all. 

“That may be well Isolde, but perhaps you don’t know enough.” She’s in the dark about everything, I told her of a traitor, I hardly know what I’m doing, but this acquaintance began with a lie, I’d rather not continue it with another.

She seemed to understand him, “True, what’s in this for you? What do you get?”

I can’t risk telling her about the key, that knowledge is too dangerous for anyone but me. “A worthy reward.”

“Which is?”

“If you think I’m telling you that, adjust your expectations.”

Her cheeks coloured. “I will not be ordered by you or any other man.”

“No?”

“We’re going to be partners.”

Reid scoffed. “No deal has been made, as of now, we’re nothing.”

“Nothing?”

He winced. I should consider my words more carefully. “Considering the lack of a deal, in a way, yes.”

“In that case,” She seemed hesitant, her mind clouded by many a thought, “I can set my own terms?”

“Only after hearing mine.” Reid did not know her, therefore he did not trust her, and to intrigue him as much as she did meant she stood an even greater threat. He needed to set boundaries, to allow himself to go about his task, to allow him to concentrate when he most needed to. “Despite whatever ideas you have in that head of yours, partners or not, when it comes down to it, I am in charge. This team is mine and you are an outsider. You will follow my orders, you will not get in my way - Yes, I require your aid, but it does not mean I have to rely on you completely, so do not expect any niceties from me.”

“Niceties wasn’t the word I was thinking of.”

Reid laughed, “Very well. Can I go on?” At her nod, he continued, “In my line of work I have three rules. First, anonymity. No-one here knows what I do and I keep it that way. Secondly, safety, my team comes first, do not expect us to protect you, your safety is your own concern. My final rule is family, my team and I are all we have, if you threaten them in any way you will pay, got it?”

“I don’t expect anything from you, I protect myself, we work to tolerate each other and nothing more, yes, I’ve got it.”

“Right, your terms?”

“When we’re out there,” She nodded her head toward the door that led to the adjoining passage to the ballroom, “You stick by me, under no circumstances do you let them corner me.”

I’m to be her social shield, she hates them as much as I do, how interesting. Reid agreed. “Now-”

“I wasn’t done.”

He gestured for her to say her piece. “If we’re to work together you will treat me as your equal, I will follow you if the situation demands it, and you will follow me. You will not treat me as though I’m one of the.” I wouldn’t dream of it. “You will not keep me in the dark.” Slightly tricker, but for the most part, fine. “If you and your people are to be staying here you will find yourselves separate lodgings, I do not share.” 

Reid couldn’t help but laugh at her last term, “Oh, on that you’re mistaken, we won’t be staying here… You’re staying with us.”

He watched her fight with herself, fortunately civility won out, and she offered him a restrained nod.

“Right, are we done here?”

“What?” Her face blanched with confusion.

He offered his hand. “Isolde, do we have a deal?”

She grasped his hand, as she did, he saw something that startled and delighted him, something he had never seen before, a smile. The words that accompanied it would either be their salvation or execution, only time would tell, but his blood hummed with anticipation.

“We have a deal.”

[jade-doodles-questionmark]

On Alexander, Angelica and Eliza

Heres some long-ass personal interpretation based on the musical that nobody following this blog signed up for lol. Not gonna be touching on history coz i’m no expert and there’re ppl way more qualified for that. and it’s good to keep things separated.

there’re obviously many similarities between the two A’s. Both are witty, outspoken, center of attention, and a bit of a flirt. To me, the most interesting trait shared by both is their awareness: They know exactly where they stand socially, and subsequently, how to play by the rules to climb up. This clear awareness is where I got the idea for the staircase drawings. “i’m a girl in a world in which my only job is to marry rich/ my father has no sons so i’m the one who has to social climb for one” is a demonstration of Angelica’s awareness, just as “As a kid in the Caribbean I wished for a war/ I knew that I was poor/ I knew it was the only way to rise up” shows Alexander’s.

it’s different for Eliza - i know as the show proceeds, she gradually becomes more ambitious and active, but in Who Lives Who Dies Who Tells Your Story, what she asks, instead of how to rise up, is: “Have I done enough?” this quiet insistence is why i always see her as someone who does things because she thinks it’s a right thing to do, no matter whether that thing in question would benefit her personally or not. sure, she gives off "cinnamon roll" vibes, but girl’s no less strong or badass than Alexander or Angelica.

More under cut coz I’m incapable of being concise:

Angelica:

what always strikes me as interesting about Angelica is the contrast of what she says vs. what she does.

In The Schuyler Sisters, the majority of her lines are about empowering women, which, I think, is where the depiction of Angelica as an angry feminist comes from in some fanfics. But in Satisfied, we see she plays squarely by the rules of patriarchy and social classes (the three fundamental truths part). 

Similarly, in TSS, she says "so men say I'm intense or I'm insane", seemingly unbothered, if not lowkey proud, by these comments, but in Satisfied, she talks about the resulting gossip if she were to marry Alexander. 

I saw a post which expressed that Angelica thinks like Alexander but acts like Burr, and I agree. She has a sharp mind and is unafraid to speak out, like Alexander, but she’s also got things to lose, like Burr. Having family responsibilities means that she does not, and cannot, act without restrictions and hesitations like Hamilton. She doesn't necessarily wait it out like Burr, but she does think things thru, because the important decisions she makes carry enough weight to not only affect the future of herself but also of her family.

I had mentioned in an old post that Satisfied is basically Angelica assessing cost & gain for each of the options she has, for all the parties involved. even though that song's ending has mixed feelings and it's DEFINITELY a heartbreaking song, Angelica's choice did maximize the gain for everyone at the time: She was able to maintain her bond with Alexander and married rich to ensure her material comfort. Alexander was able to marry a Schuyler and elevate his status. Eliza got the boy she loved and was happily married. She even foresaw some possible challenges the newly wed Hamiltons were likely to face (“He’ll never be satisfied”).

She knows she lives in a world of patriarchy; she isn't happy with it, but she knows how to take advantage of the system as much as she can. She knows how to be the center of attention, be charming, and appeal to ppl. She knows what kind of husband is beneficial to have. She knows how to influence politics in her own way (take a break). Part of why I found Satisfied so sad is that her mind and her heart wish for two different things. Angelica is a realist, over everything else. She can be a feminist, but definitely not an angry one.

Alexander:

I talked a bit abt him in an older post on Maria - and a lot of what I said abt Maria applies to him. If the challenge Angelica was facing is invisible societal restrictions on women, what Alexander faces is purely regarding survival. Having needed to fight and compete for resources, I imagine he's at least somewhat influenced by the philosophy of social darwinism. I also said, in the same post, that I don't think he'd be really inclined to help ppl in the same difficulty he used to be in, for the same reason. If he could make it this far with his own hard work, how would it be fair to make things easier for others now? Would those ppl even deserve their success now the bar has been lowered? It's not exactly a right way of thinking, but it's also hard to blame him. after having to compete for resource w others in order to climb up, it’s hard to change the mentality.

I've seen a music analysis (by Howard Ho on YouTube) on Hurricane, and it concludes that when Hamilton was singing that song, he wasn't exactly recalling the past - he's been mentally living in that reality and never truly left. (There's similar remarks that Hamilton's past in the Caribbean had always plagued him despite his power and position in Chernow's biography, but we're only analyzing the musical here.) He never fully turned off his survival mode.

To clarify: by survival mode, I don't literally mean he fights to survive. He didn't exactly show a strong will to survive and was quite willing to give up his life for noble causes, up until he met Eliza. What I meant is, he remembers being destitute and helpless, he remembers seeing deaths of trivial importance, so he fights to be as far away from destitution and helplessness as possible, he fights to have the opportunity to die a glorious and noble death. Because to be able to die for something matters is still a privilege. No matter how high up he rose to position, his insecurity that he may end up losing those never faded away. This raw energy, I guess, is what gradually turned the others in the musical to be more like him.

Eliza:

Eliza seems to be the one who's the most content abt their situations out of the three. After all, one of her motifs in the musical is "look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now", and the other one is “that would be enough”. 

ppl usually say Helpless and Satisfied should be listened back to back (and nothing wrong with that), but comparing these two songs, Helpless doesn’t explore as much of Eliza’s character as Satisfied does Angelica. Throughout Helpless, she’s spent most of the song narrating what happened and falling head over heels for Alexander. As for her first appearance in TSS, she doesn’t have as much of a voice and show of character in comparison to Angelica, Burr, other Peggy either. 

The first moment we truly see her thoughts is in That Would Be Enough. It’s also in this song, her two other motifs (”that would be enough” and “narrative”) are introduced. Unlike Alexander and Angelica at that point of story, she’s happy with her life, wants it to remain that way, and doesn’t ask for more. 

i dont mean she’s not ambitious like the other two - she’s driven, but by other things. she doesn’t think of legacy, material comfort, status, position, etc. as important as Angelica and Alexander, as we can see in Burn. it’s not that she doesn’t know the rules - girl’s not playing the game at all. 

unlike the two A’s, Eliza’s growth happens in the second act. Angelica’s barely in the second act, and in the same act we see Alexander’s most trusted weapon, writing, contributing to his downfall. but for Eliza, she turns from the observer in Helpless, the supporter in That Would Be Enough, to the only one on stage in Burn, and to being the center of stage in Who Lives Who Dies Who Tells Your Story. in the second act we see her going thru the series of most crushing heartaches: Reynolds Pamphlet, death of Phillip, and death of Alexander, but we also see her strength. she’s a good person, but ppl usually forget that being nice takes energy and strength too. it takes strength to support, to forgive, to mourn the passing of your loved ones, and to preserve their memories and legacy. she shines and grows after overcoming the loss and heartbreaks. Angelica says in Satisfied “she’d say 'i’m fine' but she’d be lying”, i don’t think she’s giving Eliza enough credit for her mental strength there lol. 

side note: this is where i got idea for the eliza art from a few days ago - kintsugi represents the idea that your wound becomes your history and forms part of who you are, rather than something ugly to be ashamed of. I think it fits well with Eliza’s development.

Congrats! you’ve made it till the end! don’t know why u’d do that, but thanks! 

if u’re reading this feel free to send me a simple art request to compensate the time u took reading my bullshit

[fanfic-scribbles]

Crash Pad

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: You’re just minding your own business when the Winter Soldier crashes into your life. Literally.

Quick facts: Romance – established past Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes leading into Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes/Reader – Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Fluff, slight mention of blood

Words: 7801

A/N: I started writing this a few months ago and almost finished when my life got fairly shook up. Still, I’m quite proud of being able to eke out an ending. For anybody who only cares about this story, feel free to skip this note, but for anybody following my other stuff: writing is going to be slow for the time being. My mom died and things are pretty topsy-turvy right now. Writing is still a comfort, but head to hands isn’t working the same right now. Thanks for your patience; I hope this is a pleasant read for you in the mean time <3

  ~

 You’re getting ready for bed and have just turned off the living room light when you hear a clatter on the fire escape. You haven’t gotten over to shut the window yet and you wince at the thought of maybe coming face to face with a giant rat, or a raccoon, although you haven’t yet seen a raccoon and you’re pretty sure they don’t live in the city but it would probably be better than a rat the size of a raccoon–

What you get is much, much worse as a fully grown man falls through the curtains, knocks over a side table and potted plant, and crashes onto your living room floor with a wheezed (but emphatic), “God damn it!”

You freeze, unsure of whether to run or yell or maybe both. However the man flounders on the floor, unable to otherwise move much as he holds his side and– is that blood on your floor?

“Are you okay?” you ask despite everything.

He yanks his head back to look at you and grimaces. “Fuck, I–” He tries to get up, slips in what you are almost positive is blood, and slumps over with a little sigh and a handful of muttered curses that might be in another language. “I am really sorry about this,” he says lowly, like he's embarrassed to be bleeding out in a stranger’s living room. Then he shifts a little more and moonlight gleams on his arm. His very…shiny…completely metal arm, and you find a whole new way to be concerned.

You should have known the reasonable rent was a goddamn trap.

You take a few steps back, barely avoid hitting the counter, and flick the light back on without taking your eyes away from the man on your floor. He squints at the brightness and shows you a face that is, both fortunately and unfortunately, familiar. Fortunately because Captain America and the Avengers somehow got him pardoned for potential war crimes and treason even without him being present for any of that circus of a trial. Unfortunately because…war crimes. And treason. And that is definitely blood.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out and looks a little woozy. “There were sheets– I thought the building was empty.”

“The sheeting is for the building right next to us,” you say and sigh. “I’m going to guess you are not in favor of me calling an ambulance?”

He just blinks at you a few times. Maybe he is secretly a raccoon.

“Please don’t,” he says, some life returning to his eyes, and he looks you up and down. The rubber duck pajamas must put him at ease because, while he is still tensely holding his midsection, his shoulders relax a little. “I’m so–”

“Sorry, yes, I know.” You point at the bathroom. “I’m going to get the first aid kit and hopefully I won’t have to explain to the coroner’s office why Captain America’s boo bled out on my floor.”

You’re just opening up the cupboard that hopefully contains at least some band-aids when he calls out, “What the hell is a ‘boo?’”

~

Two old t-shirts, one and a half rolls of dusty gauze, and his own homemade stitch kit later, the man is finally all patched up. “How are you not passing out from blood loss?” you ask, eyeing the mess on the nice hardwood that has definitely just lost you your deposit. But there’s no corpse to deal with, so at least things aren’t as bad as they could be.

“I’m built pretty hardy.” He sits up a little more and groans. Before you can beg him not to split his side again, he extends his hand. “James Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.”

You shake his hand (gently) and tell him your name. “Do you let everybody call you Bucky, or just the people whose floor you bleed all over?” Something moving catches your eye and you sigh at the sight of your inexpensive (but still nice) curtains blowing slightly, showing off their new stains. “Floor and drapes…”

“I’ll clean it,” he says. “I can get blood out of anything.” He winces. “I…that sounds worse than it is.”

“I imagine getting blood out of anything is a good skill for an international spy-assassin to have,” you say.

Bucky scowls. And, you think, blushes a little, though how he has enough blood to do that you don’t know. You look at the spot again. It looks big to you but maybe you’re making a fuss over nothing. No, wait, there’s still dried blood on your floor. You’re allowed a fuss. “So you know who I am.”

“Your boy made it hard to miss,” you say.

He grumbles to himself, then says, “He’s always such a drama queen. I didn’t need to be pardoned.”

“Really,” you say and look at the bloodied handkerchief wrapped around a bullet he dug out of himself. “Looks like at least one other person disagrees with you.”

“This was Steve’s fight, not mine.” He huffs. “Story of my goddamn lif–”

He suddenly falls back and you reach out instinctively to catch him. He recovers quickly, wild-eyed and stiff and you scoot back just in case. He takes a few deep breaths and seems to force himself calm. It doesn’t look very effective and you’re honestly starting to worry. “You really–”

“I did not faint,” he snaps and maybe he has more blood than you thought, or maybe absolutely all of it has come to collect in his face.

“I was going to say you really need a hospital,” you say. “But yeah, you did.”

He grumbles under his breath and then, as if predicting your protests, stands up quickly enough to waver. Serves him right, you think, but when he scowls at you, you wonder if maybe he’s psychic too. “Try not to pass out on your way home,” you say, because if he wants to leave there’s really nothing you can do to stop him.

“Funny,” he says. He clears his throat and adds, much more sincerely, “Thanks.”

For the t-shirts, for the first aid kit, for not calling the cops, for not calling the Avengers so Captain America can hone in on him like a cartoon hound, for not bitching about the floor too much– the list is many and varied and so you give him a simple nod and hope you can get even a little bit of sleep tonight because work tomorrow is going to be hell without it.

He goes back to the window and before you can point out you have a perfectly good door, Bucky slips out onto the fire escape again. You shrug to yourself and go over to firmly flip the lock. You’ve done your part– in the event he slips and hits his head, someone else can be the good Samaritan. You’re going to bed and tomorrow this is going to feel like a weird dream, if there is even a single good deity in existence.

~

You’re not sure if it’s proof of or a mark against the existence of said single good deity when Bucky shows back up in your fire escape the next evening and taps politely against your open window before he lets himself back in, scooting your new plant just an inch out of the way.

“I have a door,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

“Your hallway’s too well lit,” he says, much more hale and hearty and obviously not suffering major blood loss. His hair even looks like he just got out of the shower, all soft and shiny and bouncing a bit as he twists his upper body to start pulling stuff out of a backpack hanging off one shoulder. “I got stuff to clean the floor, and a replacement first aid kit. You outta keep it better stocked, so I got you one of the good ones.”

“O…kay,” you say, for lack of anything better. There’s a hysterical laugh building up in the back of your throat as the Winter Soldier brings out some rags and a cleaning solution for your bloodstained hardwood floor, but you cough it out and say, “Thanks,” when the formerly-feared international assassin looks at you like you’re crazy before he gets on his hands and knees and starts scrubbing.

It’s not fair no one would believe you. You’re not quite sure this isn’t an elaborate daydream, but then, you like to think you’d imagine something more fun than this. You clear your throat. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No thanks,” he grunts, glaring at the floor and rubbing at the stain like it has offended him personally. It’s a little worrisome when he goes at it hard enough to maybe rub a hole right through the floor– you’d rather deal with the stain– but there’s a hard edge to his eyes that make you think maybe it’s a good idea for him to work it out in a productive, non-violent way. And if it turns violent, hopefully he has some home repair skills to make up for it.

You busy yourself with making tea, using the nice pot and the nice cups you never get to break out, and by the time it’s almost done steeping Bucky isn’t rubbing quite so hard and, in fact, seems to have made the stain do a disappearing act.

“Nice,” you say. “You want some tea? I made plenty.”

He lifts his head and tilts it as he squints at you, like he’s still not sure of you. But he shrugs, says, “Sure,” and stands up, rolling his shoulders. He looks down at the floor and nods appreciatively before coming to sit on the other side of the counter. “It’s almost gone; just a little bit more and it’ll be like I was never here.”

That last part could have been a decent joke, but he said it so seriously you just clear your throat. “Thanks,” you say and start pouring. “My landlord is going to have to find some other excuse to try and keep my security deposit.”

Bucky snorts but otherwise makes no noise. At first it’s nice, if a bit awkward, as you don’t really feel the need to fill the silence, but it becomes clear by the way Bucky glares at the plant sitting in front of him on the counter that something is eating at him. You’re not sure whether or not to pry, but it seems polite to at least ask, “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he grunts and leans even lower to the surface of the counter.

You stare at him. “I appreciate what you did, but you didn’t have to come back,” you say gently, because a pissed-off former-assassin isn’t really a problem you want to have on your hands. “I’m not awful enough to actually expect you to clean up your own blood the day after you nearly bled to death.”

“What?” He blinks and then scowls and shakes his head. “No, it’s not that; it’s…” He picks up his cup and downs all of it, despite the fact that it was still steaming. Tentatively you pour him another cup, to which he says, “thanks,” before loading it with sugar again. “It’s good,” he says and this time he sips it.

“It’s one of my favorites. Very soothing,” you say. “Normally.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I wish anything was soothing. You know Steve almost ran into a goddamn minefield today?”

You didn’t know that, you don’t think anything the Avengers do is any of your business, really, and where does one even find a minefield in New York City– you don’t say any of that, but you apparently don’t need to, because Bucky is off like a shot saying more words than you’d have thought possible for him. All of it is ranting about what a reckless dumbass Captain America is, and a Brooklyn accent increasingly comes through, egged into existence by sheer aggravation. You sit and listen, transfixed not so much by the details (they’re too fleeting and sparse) but by how annoyed Bucky is with Captain Amer- with “Steve goddamn pain in the ass Rogers” and you’re never going to be able to see him again without snickering.

Bucky sighs heavily and rests his chin on the table. He looks very tired, all of a sudden. Maybe a relaxing tea and enthusiastic rant wasn’t the best combination. Then again, he also looks less tense, so perhaps it’s fine. “Why don’t you stop for the night and go get some sleep,” you say and take away his cup. “You can finish up tomorrow.”

He squints at you, squints back at the floor (that you honestly can’t tell is any different from the rest), and looks back at you. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” you say and stack the cups. “When you come back refreshed you can tell me why Steve Rogers can never walk past that animal shelter without ducking his head in shame.”

Bucky’s smile is lopsided and he shakes his head. “Maybe,” he admits and hops off the chair. “I’ll just…leave the stuff here then, if that’s okay?”

You nod and he quickly picks up and puts the supplies in the empty bottom space of your side table. He goes for the window.

“I have a-!”

And he’s gone. You roll your eyes. If Steve Rogers really is as much of an asshole as Bucky says he is, then those two deserve each other.

~

For all that the Captain America mythos has been debunked for you, you’re still brought up short when you suddenly encounter Steve Rogers the next night.

On your fire escape.

He knocks his head against the railing in his scramble to simultaneously get up and face you, curses, and lifts his hands defensively. “I can explain.”

You rub your face with both hands. They definitely deserve each other. “I doubt that,” you mutter and sigh heavily. Thank goodness there haven’t been any actual fires; you don’t know how you’d get out with all these buff superheroes hanging around outside your window. “Have you lost something?”

Captain America looks at the ground for a moment, and then flashes you a smile. “…Yes?”

God, he is a smartass. “Do you want to come inside or do you want to risk some Nosy Nancy from the building across the street seeing a big shadow and calling the cops?”

That would never happen, but he slips inside almost immediately and then there he is, in all his uniformed, shield-holding glory. It’s too weird to think about, and you step back to give him (and you) space while you close the curtains. “Thank you,” he says politely and looks around. “Your apartment is lovely; it’s very…green.”

You’re not sure why he hesitates, until you see him looking at your yellowing majesty palm. “He’s coming back,” you say and go to adjust the plant for lack of anything else your nervous hands can do. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No thank you,” he says and stands with his feet shoulder wide and his hands clasped down in front of him. It is perhaps the least comforting thing he can do and for one ridiculous moment you wish Bucky was here to be in between you. You wish the Winter Soldier was here. To protect you. From Captain America.

You clear your throat. “So,” you say and grab yourself something. “Do you lurk outside everyone’s apartment at some point, or am I just special?”

For all his military posturing, Captain America squirms like a schoolboy. “I swear I wasn’t– okay, I guess I was but not intentionally? I was…looking. For something.”

“Something you dropped?” you ask him.

“A person,” he says, staring elsewhere. For a moment you have a paranoid thought he’s staring at the space where Bucky had fallen in that night, but no, he’s just looking at the window. At least you remembered to change the curtains.

“Pretty sure you can see one of those without squinting into the grates,” you say.

“He might have passed through on his way somewhere else,” Captain America says. “Have you seen a man outside?”

“Other than you?” you ask. He blushes even harder than Bucky does– and think of the devil, you have a moment where you’re not sure what you should say, but quickly come to realize that whatever is going on between the two of them, you do not want to get stuck in the middle.

You’re prepared to lie your ass off, but he apparently takes your response as a rebuke. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make you feel unsafe.”

“It’s fine,” you say. Despite his previous answer, you lean into the fridge to get him a bottle of water. “I’m pretty sure Captain America isn’t going to murder me. And if you decided you wanted to, well, there’s nothing I could really do about it.”

He chokes on the drink he’s just taken. You instinctively lean in so you can slam his back but after a couple of hits he covers his mouth and waves you off. “Sorry, sorry,” he says and grabs a nearby dishcloth to wipe up what he just spit on the counter. “That was just…really dark.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not the one lurking on fire escapes,” you say.

He rolls his eyes. The nerve. You laugh and he actually grins. Asshole. His smile softens though and he says, “I’m really–”

“Sorry,” you finish for him.

“Am I that predictable already?”

You shrug. You want to tell him it’s because he and Bucky seem very much alike in that respect. You want to but…you don’t. Whatever Bucky’s problem is, he seems to want to deal with it himself, and it’s not your place to get in between them and start snitching. “You seem the type. Don’t worry about it so much. You…look pretty worried. I’m not going to hold it against you.”

“Thank you.” His lips turn into a sad sort-of smile and he takes a slower drink. “I guess I am pretty worried. This man I’m looking for, he’s…important to me, and he’s been through a lot, and I just want to know he’s okay.”

You stare at him. He looks down. And looks down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to babble like that,” he says and glances at you with a strained smile. “I don’t normally do that.”

“Hm.” You stare at him for several seconds and notice he is blinking an awful lot. “You look exhausted.”

“I’m a little tired,” he says, quietly, and some of the posturing seeps out of him and he lets himself slump a little more. He suddenly shakes his head and sits up straight again. “Thanks again for…” He looks around and settles for shaking his water bottle.

You hold back a laugh. “Sure. I uh…do you need me to call you a cab?”

He shakes his head firmly and, to his credit, he’s pretty excellent at pretending to be okay. You almost believe him. “I can get home all right.”

“Well, please make sure you do. I can think of a lot of people who’d be sad to think of you collapsing on the way home because you wore yourself down to the bone,” you say. “And from how you seem to worry about your friend, I bet you can think of at least one.”

He blinks, like he’s surprised, but a smile curls onto his face, warm and true. “Good night,” he says, and because you’re so nice, you don’t stop him when he goes back out the window. At this point, it’s beginning to feel like a lost cause.

~

“What did you say to him?”

“I know you don’t like the door,” you say, not even turning away from the plant you’re watering. Any time you put down the canister you forget where you left off and you are not going to kill these plants by overwatering. Not again. “But maybe you could at least tap on the window when you decide you’re going to enter my apartment.”

“Why do you leave your window open?” Bucky huffs. You can hear him sit at the counter behind you. “You know what kind of creeps can take advantage of that?”

You finish watering the last plant and turn to stare at him. “I’m starting to get an idea.”

Bucky scowls. “I’m not a creep,” he mutters.

“Polite society encourages doorways instead of windows,” you say. “It’s okay. Captain America, apparently, is also a creep.”

Bucky sits up straighter. “What did he say?”

“Not much,” you say. “He was squatting on the fire escape like he could make you spontaneously materialize. I invited him in for an explanation and after a little while he went on his way.”

“After a little while,” Bucky repeats and squints at you suspiciously.

You shrug. “He likes to vent to complete strangers, apparently. But I didn’t tell him anything about you, it doesn’t seem fair to tell you anything about him. If you want to know, I get the feeling you can go ask him.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but he stands up and stretches. “You said I bled on the drapes?”

“I already scrubbed that out, if you can finish the floor,” you say and go for the tea pot. “Do you like green tea?”

“As long as you do it right,” he says and starts scrubbing again. “I hate it all bitter.”

You go for the good matcha and start preparing it while he works out his frustrations on your floor. You glance at him a couple of times but he seems fully focused on his task, until you finish the tea and call him back to the bar.

“Steve Rogers is a pain in the ass and don’t let anyone tell you different,” he grumbles, but it’s soft and there’s a troubled look on his face as he takes his cup.

“Do you miss him?” you ask and blow gently across your drink.

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Just as you're about to apologize for overstepping, though, he speaks. “It’s hard to go back when you’ve done the shit I have, you know?”

No. You have absolutely no idea what it’s like to live as a free man after decades of literal objectification and being used as a murder weapon for fascists. But it doesn’t seem very helpful to say that, so instead you say, gently, “I can’t even imagine.”

Bucky bobs his head and takes another sip of his drink. You’re delighted he seems to be drinking it fairly quickly, but also a little dismayed because a good matcha latte takes a decent amount of work and it’ll take a little time if he wants another cup. “I want to go back but I can’t yet. I wish he wouldn’t be so goddamn stubborn about it is all. Just because he thinks I didn’t do anything wrong doesn’t make it true.”

You nod, like any of this makes any goddamn sense to you. But maybe– maybe it doesn’t have to. Maybe Bucky’s saying all this because you’re an outside entity with no personal stake in, or knowledge of, what counts as treason, or what’s needed to lack culpability, or what it means to be an absent friend.

He rambles, a little bit, and though about half the words are proper nouns you don’t recognize, you nod along, and when he finishes his latte you make him another one, and when he leaves, you don’t mention the door. Even though you want to.

~

You’ve actually forgotten how nice it is to have someone come through the door. Case in point–

“Um, I hope this is all right,” Steve Rogers, dressed in casual civilian fare and holding a small pot of flowers, says as you can do nothing but stare at him. “I just wanted to stop by and thank you again for being so understanding. May I…come in?”

That snaps you out of your funk and you quickly stand aside. “Of course; sorry, I just…wasn’t expecting you.”

“I was just going to leave the plant with a note if you weren't here, but I’m glad you were,” Captain Rogers says and walks in, and sets the pot down on the counter.

You walk over to the fridge. “Would you like something to–” As you turn to finish the question you see him glance furtively at the window. Ah, of course. He looks down guiltily and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh. Well, he did come through the correct entrance and brought some pretty flowers. “All right, you did knock on the door this time; go sniff around the fire escape all you want.”

“I’m just checking something I forgot,” he says quickly and goes to the window. He’s only outside long enough for you to brew some tea and he comes back in just as you’re pouring his cup. It isn’t until he’s about to take a sip, however, that he says, “Oh– I know it looks bad, but Bucky– sorry, James Barnes– I swear he isn’t dangerous.”

“I know. I saw some of the trial stuff,” you lie. Well, you did see some of it, but it wasn’t until you heard Bucky mutter “Martha Stewart was right,” while fussing at some of the blood on his shirt that you felt safer. Strange as it is to think.

Steve relaxes his shoulders like some of the weight is off of them. “You have no idea how good that is to hear. You wouldn’t believe some of the things people say to me. I can’t really punch people anymore because I’m so much stronger now but it’s so tempting sometimes. At least when it’s online I can mime punching them.”

His annoyed tone allows you to laugh a little. “Maybe imagine the block button is a punch in the face?” you suggest.

He grins. “My friend Clint suggested printing out the most irritating comments and taping them to a punching bag. It didn’t really work but the thought was nice. The block button as a punch to the face though…”

The guy doesn’t really need more violence in his life, but he genuinely seems pleased with the idea, so you let it be. And when he starts ranting in detail about some of the comments he gets about Bucky, you make a new pot of tea– chamomile. For the both of you.

~

You don’t know how the flowers are dead already– it seems like Steve just brought them and they were so pretty you immediately looked up care instructions and followed them to the letter. Or so you thought. But now, only days later, you have a pot of dirt and withered petals.

And Bucky sulking at your counter.

“I told him I was fine,” he says petulantly.

You sigh and bring the pot over to the sink and think about what to do. “Did you tell him in person?”

“In a letter. He knew it was from me.”

The soil looks nice, so you’ll dig out the remains and try to plant some replacement seeds. Maybe that was the problem– maybe the flowers were sick or something. “Well reading and seeing are two different things.”

“He knows I cover him in fights.”

You slowly look at Bucky. His oh-so intelligent response is to bristle like a cat and go, “What?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s desperate to see you, knows you’re near when he’s fighting, and you wonder why he’s “so goddamn reckless?’”

Bucky just glares. Yeah, these two morons absolutely deserve each other.

You hope Bucky figures it out sooner rather than later.

~

He doesn’t, but he keeps coming by, as does Steve, and you resign yourself to hosting two pining idiots who keep dancing around each other.

Bucky drinks anything you give him without complaint. However he drinks the lattes and almost anything green tea a little quicker, though he tries to hide his cup from you when he does. Whether he’s ashamed of going through them so fast or embarrassed you don’t know, but you start to give him bigger cups, and that seems to help.

The first time you give Steve a cup of apple pie spice, he gives you a severe glare– which he then completely undermines by liking the blend immensely.

“I swore the next person who offered me apple pie would get popped,” Steve says, an amusing mixture of half-bluster and half-shame as he sips from the classic teacup you hope not to regret handing him.

“Lucky for me it’s not actually apple pie,” you say. “Do people really make that joke?”

The eyeroll Steve gives that is 200% sass. “You have no idea,” he says, deadly serious, “–how funny people think they are.”

~

This becomes…oddly normal. Listening to Steve talk about anything that’s on his mind, giving Bucky new tea blends just to see how he reacts to them; your apartment is no longer just you and a bunch of greenery that seems to wilt more often than not. Everything seems warmer, and better– even your plants seem healthier. (For that, though, you suspect Bucky is giving them a special mixture of something after you catch a glance of him messing with one of the pots. You want to ask him what he’s doing, but you don’t want to admit that he’s better at taking care of them than you are.)

It’s so normal, that you feel the silence only after the first few nights without a visit. They don’t visit every night, but they visit often enough that you know they’re off somewhere even without them telling you. For a couple of weeks you try to pretend the quiet doesn’t bother you, but you check the fire escape twice every night, and then once more before you go to bed.

~

The next time you see Bucky is during one of these checks. There was no tapping, no noise to otherwise alert you, he’s just suddenly back, sitting next to the window, hunched over in black clothes nearly blending into the darkness and staring out at nothing in the night.

“What’s wrong?” you ask and crawl out to kneel next to him. “Are you hurt again?”

“No,” he mutters and continues to glare at some imaginary point in the distance. “Steve was, though.”

It’s a little harder to swallow. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbles and buries his mouth further against his arms. “He’s fine, strutting around the hospital like a- like a- …” He huffs and sits back to wave his arms before he curls back in on himself. “But it was close, and he’s an asshole.”

“Mm,” you say. “Chamomile mint?”

He sighs heavily but he gets to his feet and starts to enter, only to stop and hold open the curtains for you.

“Thank you sir,” you say with only a hint of sarcasm and go on ahead to get the tea started. Bucky snorts but doesn’t say anything and you use the time the water needs to heat up to take care of some of your plants.

“Stop it.”

The snap comes so fast from Bucky you immediately stop what you’re doing. He doesn’t look as angry as he sounded, but he’s frowning pretty hard. “You're overwatering that one; jade plants are succulents. You don’t need to drown it.”

You look at the plant and set the watering can down. “Oh.” You knew that. You think. You’re just nervous. “Did you see him? In the hospital?”

“Briefly. I didn’t talk to him; just made sure he was all right,” Bucky says. “And he is. I wouldn’t leave him if he wasn’t.”

That does assuage some of your concerns. Steve is nice. You want him to be okay. And Bucky is– also nice, but god, they’re both so fucking frustrating. “You couldn’t have just–”

“Don’t start with–”

“I’m just saying–”

“And I’m telling you not to say–”

“I pay the rent for all that you sublet my fire escape; I’ll say what I want,” you manage to finish to Bucky’s consternation. You lift your head proudly and he frowns to one side. And then he…smirks. You’re not sure you like that.

“Crappiest space in the city,” he says and sits up. “You could at least get a chair.”

You roll your eyes and dole out the tea, fixing it the way Bucky likes. No sugar for this one, but plenty of honey. “If I ever have to leave for an actual fire, I’ll be in enough trouble trying to get around you.”

“Nah. I’d carry you out,” Bucky says and lifts his cup in a silent ‘cheers.’ He takes a sip and the sigh sounds content, so you assume you did it right. For a few moments a comfortable silence settles between the two of you as you sip warm drinks surrounded by greenery (that is mostly green) and life goes on in faint sounds outside the confines of your home.

Bucky sets his empty cup down with a sigh. “Do you think, if I show up to throttle him, that he’ll actually start watching his own fucking back?”

You give that some serious thought. “Will you give him time to moon at you first?”

Bucky sighs with disgust and flumps back onto the counter. “This is stupid. This all feels so stupid.”

You open your mouth because you do have a lot of opinions about honest communication and using innocent civilian apartments to dance around each other, but Bucky shoots you a glare to let you know that a, he knows, and b, he doesn’t appreciate it. You roll your eyes and go back to drinking your tea. It is a very good blend, and you’re not going to let it go unappreciated because two early 20th century boys can’t get their shit together.

Not that you’re complaining, really– you’re starting to feel like less of a disaster by comparison. Or maybe letting two strange men into your apartment makes you just as bad by default. You rub the bridge of your nose. Yeah, no one is getting out of this looking sane. You feel like that should bother you more than it does, but it’s just a fleeting thought before you go back to worrying about Steve and pouring Bucky’s cup back to full.

~

The next night when someone knocks on your door, you’re only mildly surprised to see Steve on the other side. And most of that surprise is because you can see fading bruises on his face, and also because he is holding a fairly big potted plant with tall green and yellow-edged leaves.

“Hi,” he says and lifts the pot slightly. “I got you a present.”

“Uh, wow; thanks?” you say and quickly step back to let him in, momentarily forgetting he can probably carry it around with ease. Steve places the plant on the floor near the end of your couch, where it actually looks fairly nice. He gestures at it proudly. “It’s a snake plant. The man at the nursery said it’s very hard to kill.”

“You’re not funny,” you say but you look at it appreciatively. It is nice, and you could do with ‘hard to kill’. Speaking of– “Should you be up? You look like you should be in a hospital.”

He shrugs and his face goes neutral. “I’m healing well enough that there’s nothing a hospital could do for me. And I felt so…restless.”

You nod. “Want some tea?”

“Please. I really like what you make,” he says and immediately takes a seat at the counter. Oddly enough, it’s not the one Bucky always takes. You don’t realize you squint at the space for too long until Steve looks curious and asks, “Is everything okay?”

You squint at the countertop. “Yeah, just…trying to figure out if that’s a stain or a spot.”

Thankfully there is a spot of spilled something and you quickly grab a towel and wipe it away. You think it’s a pretty good save, but Steve looks at you with a raised brow, like he’s figured something out. You freeze. “What?” What are you going to say? How is he going to react? What will you–

“Was that a coffee ring?”

You blink a few times, and then roll your eyes as your chest practically deflates. He smiles and winks. “I can’t believe you.”

“I am a layered human being who can drink many things,” you say defensively. “And if you want coffee you’ll have to ask another time. I’m not giving you anything with caffeine in it when you look like you got hit by a truck.”

“Train,” he corrects absently. “It barely clipped me.”

You sigh and go for the sleepy blend. One of you is going to have to bow out of this conversation due to exhaustion and at this point you don’t care if it’s you. However it might truly come in handy as Steve keeps looking out the window and shaking his foot. You set the cup in front of him and before you can ask what’s wrong, he takes the cup in both hands and blurts out, “I think I saw him.”

You look at the window and squint. “Seriously?”

“Not here.” Steve rolls his eyes. Like you’re the crazy one. He blows gently across the surface of the liquid and says, “Though it’s strange you’d think I saw Bucky out of your window.”

“Isn't that why you started showing up here in the first place? I distinctly remember someone with a big red, white, and blue shield lurking on my fire escape.”

“Oh, right,” he admits sheepishly, hunched over his cup. His eyes glimmer with mischief as he looks up at you through long lashes and asks, “Did I ever apologize to you for that?”

You’re brought up short by the amount of boyish charm this giant walking wall of muscle manages to pack into that look and you have to find your tongue to say, “I– y-yeah…”

Steve chuckles to himself and you give yourself a mental slap on the face. “Troll,” you mutter and sip from your mug. The liquid is piping hot and burns your tongue, giving you an excuse to grimace when Steve flashes you a beautiful smile.

~

You’re in trouble.

Not physically, not immediately, and perhaps someone on the outside might say you’re being dramatic about it, but they wouldn’t know shit about the situation. They wouldn’t know about how your hands felt as they slid over Steve’s when he handed you a new small pot of flowers; they wouldn’t know about the feeling of serenity that settled over you when Bucky abandoned some of his oh so careful control and rested his head on your shoulder for four long seconds; they wouldn’t know how it feels like you’re missing something until someone shows up at your door or taps at your window.

You’re falling in love with two people who have always been, and still are, desperately in love with each other.

Isn’t that just your luck.

~

In the end, Bucky takes your advice more to heart than you ever expected he would– you and Steve are quietly enjoying each others’ company, with you standing in the kitchen and Steve sitting at the counter as per usual, when the curtains move dramatically for Bucky to slip in, which makes Steve whirl around, and your hands jerk so hard from all the sudden surprise that your cup slips out and crashes to the floor.

“Shi-” You forget to watch your step and immediately catch a jagged shard that embeds itself right under the ball of your foot. “Ow, fuck!”

Your name is said in different voices but very similar tones of alarm and you suddenly find yourself gathered into Bucky’s arms, bridal style, and he carries you over to the couch. “Wh-” You swallow at the close proximity to Bucky’s chest and the way he holds you so effortlessly but so securely. “I’m fine; it’s just a little–”

Bucky sits down on the couch and doesn’t move you, which means you are basically sitting cross-wise in his lap. This is not something you need after your recent revelation, and it doesn’t get any easier when Steve comes back with the heavy duty first aid kit Bucky got you and gingerly takes your foot to examine the injury. His sympathetic look towards you gives you the warning you need to brace yourself before he pulls the shard out. It doesn’t hurt too terribly and he’s almost tender as he cleans your foot.

“Look at us, matching blood and all,” Bucky says lightly.

“It’s my floor I’ll bleed on it if I want,” you grumble, but you’re too distracted by how focused Steve is on fixing you up. “You…seem to be taking this well.”

“I knew he had been here since the first time I came,” Steve admits as he rolls the gauze around your foot. “There was a bloodstain on your floor still.”

“Seriously?” You had thought Bucky was being overdramatic about the supposed stain and humored him, but it…makes sense. Why else would he come back the next night. Why else would Steve continue to come by. And because Steve had kept coming, Bucky had kept coming, and…they won’t need to come back anymore, will they? They now have what they’ve wanted. Each other.

Someone says your name and you force yourself back to neutral as much as you possibly can. Steve looks curious though and Bucky says, “What’s with that look?”

“There’s no look,” you say. “And if there is, it’s only because you two have devised the weirdest meet-cute ever– decades after you actually met.”

“Hm.” Bucky continues to stare at you, but doesn’t say anything else.

~

They come back. And they both use the door.

You don’t know what you’re more shocked by– that Bucky and Steve, having come back to each other, are still coming around to you, or that Bucky is actually walking through the designated threshold. You don’t have a lot of time to think about it though because the place is…a mess.

“What happened here?” Steve asks as Bucky’s shoulders go up to his ears and he looks around the place like he’s going to find something unpleasant.

“It’s not that bad,” you say and glance around. You’ve cleaned out a few of the pots already and stacked them away in the closet, but some of the plants are still…slightly alive, for a little while. A couple are even doing fairly well– one of which being the snake plant Steve got you.

“What happened to the jungle?” Bucky asks, looking around shrewdly. You don’t like the sound of that. It feels so…probing, and raises your hackles. Why should he care?

“I wasn’t keeping them alive for very long.” You flick a yellowing leaf and keep your tone light. “I just got tired of it. What are…what are you doing here?”

You don’t look at Steve, but he clears his throat and his tone is similar to Bucky’s when he asks, “Is now a bad time?”

“For what?” You square your shoulders and face them. Like an adult. Like an adult who had two other adults just sort of crash into their life one day and start sharing space until such time as the two window-crashers decided they…didn’t need to come around anymore. “I’m happy you both found each other. You didn’t have to come back.”

Steve looks…well, he looks hurt. You don’t know any other way to describe it; it doesn’t show in his face so much as in his eyes, in the feeling you get watching the line of his shoulders lower. But before he can say anything, before you can explain yourself, Bucky speaks up.

“It isn’t like that,” he says.

You look down. It’s easier than looking at a man who feels rejected, and a man who has you completely pegged.

“What?” Steve asks.

“It’s okay,” you say, in perhaps the biggest bald-faced lie you’ve ever told.

“That’s not– no,” Bucky insists and lifts your chin. His fingers are warm and gentle and linger too long.

You pull back from his touch before you can embarrass yourself further. “You guys were literally circling each other.”

“Please.” Bucky rolls his eyes. “I don’t need to keep coming back here to be near Steve. I know where he lives.”

“And I leave my window unlocked,” Steve says. He aims a cheeky grin at Bucky and adds, “Guess I should have left it open though.”

“Shut up,” Bucky tells him but looks at you and says, “Point is: we weren't using you.”

Steve blinks. “Oh– no, of course not!”

“It’s all right,” you say, trying as hard as you can to assuage their discomfort even though you can’t put much into it. Even though you did very much want this meeting to happen, somehow you don’t feel very ‘all right.’

“No,” Bucky says and takes your hand in his. The flesh hand, which he runs up to the middle of your forearm. His touch is gentle and light, even when he grips. You can break away, but you don’t– you let him pull you in, close and closer, until there’s barely any room between you.

Steve crowds from the side and puts one arm behind Bucky, and one arm behind you. “If you only think we’re here because of each other, then it’s not all right,” he says softly.

“I know it isn’t– I know you weren't ‘using’ m–” You swallow hard. “And I know it’s not–”

They both swoop in for a kiss– for a kiss with you. Somehow they avoid bumping heads and the lip-lip-lip contact is barely there, with Steve at the corner and Bucky barely catching one side of your upper lip, but they're both there for a glorious moment that leaves you stunned.

“Oh…” you say, dumbly. You try to fight it, but a smile pulls at your lips. “Oh.”

“That good already, huh?” Steve asks quietly, slowly forming a small smile of his own.

You let out a little sigh that is immediately undermined by an uncontrollable laugh that swells from a bubble of relief at the base of your throat. “Bucky’s right, you are insufferable,” you say but you reach out to sweep your fingers in a gentle touch down Steve’s cheek and under his chin.

“You get used to it,” Bucky says.

You think about that. Even with how you’ve been, entertaining these two rotating planets over the last however many weeks or months, this would be an entirely new normal.

You think you can’t wait to get used to it.

[joheun-saram]

“Is your refrigerator running?” (jjk)

Summary- Who knew the annoying prank calls you were receiving would become the favourite part of your day.

word count- 4.2k

pairing- fratboy!Jungkook x Reader

rating- PG-13

genre- fluff, collegeau

warnings- none! just stupid jokes.

a.n- Part of my drabbles for @btsholidaybingo​, ticking off the Prank Calls tile! I’ll be posting these every week or so as I get them done. Check out the other drabbles here :)

s/o to the beautiful @heyitsmeee2​ for beta reading and helping me fix the ending! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

-

“So how’s your new boyfriend?” Namjoon asked you as you chewed on your fries, almost choking at his insinuition. He laughs at you as he takes a sip of his milkshake, slurping obnoxiously, his eyes widening as he concentrates on the flavour.

“Stop! He’s just a random guy with too much time on his hands! I don’t even know his name! Although...” You stared at your burger, trying to forget what your roommate was alluding to. Two months ago you had started getting phone calls from a stranger. It wasn't something from a horror movie, don't worry. It was harmless. He would call you at random times in the day to ask you silly questions. You don’t know how he even got your number but there was something about his easy going nature and lame jokes that made you want to continue talking to him. Namjoon suspected it was a byproduct of your loneliness, but it was comforting hearing his voice to break through your mundane day to day. 

"Hi, is this Y/N?" A deep voice spoke as you picked up the call from an unknown number.

"Yes this is she. Who is this?" You asked as you sat up straighter, your attention diverting from the paper you were writing. You had applied to eight jobs for after graduation and you were sure this was a call for an interview, even though it was 10 pm. Your eyes lit up as you hoped this was the big consulting firm you were waiting to hear from.

"I have a very important question that I was hoping you could help me with."

"Um.. sure go ahead." You fiddled with your pen, scribbling random shapes on your notebook, feeling somewhat nervous. Is this how employers usually talked? Did they do this to build anticipation?

"Is your refrigerator running?"

"I'm sorry what?"

"Is your refrigerator running?" 

"Are you calling on behalf of the landlord?" Your voice was flat with disappointment. Surely, this was not an important question. Oh how you wished it was an interview call. You sighed.

"Please answer my question."

"Yes. It's running."

"Then you better go catch it, shouldn't you?"

And with that he hung up and you were baffled. Which decade was this dude from? Who does these lame prank calls anyway and more importantly why does your caller ID not show who it is? Thinking nothing of it, you go about finishing your assignment, albeit slightly aggravated. However, the calls continue. Everyday this stranger would call you with questions, sometimes with a silly punchline but oftentimes even sillier riddles.

"Okay, dude seriously. This is getting annoying." You huffed after a week and a half of receiving calls from the same deep voiced stranger, although you’d be lying if you said his little laugh after he told his jokes was not endearing.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to annoy you." He seemed hurt and you couldn’t fathom why he would be hurt over a comment a stranger made over his prank calls. In fact, you were sure this was some hobby of his and he had a rotation of strangers to bother.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" You don’t know why you were indulging him, but you had to give him props for constantly calling you. It was kind of becoming part of your daily routine.

"Dixie. My name's Dixie." You could hear the mirth in his tone.

"Dixie? Oh I thought you were a dude, my bad."

"I can be a dude and still have Dixie as my name. Jeez, are you a bigot?" He scolded.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean it that way, Dixie."

"That's Dixie Normus to you." He laughed at his joke, every syllable of his laugh separated as if he was a cartoon character.

"Oh my god. You're the worst!" Regardless of your words, you were laughing. Laughing hard enough to have the banana milk you were drinking to snort out of your nose, making you cough. For a moment, you were glad this stranger wasn't in the room.

"Sorry! Are you okay?" You could hear the humour in his words, shading them in anything but an apology.

And so it went, your mysterious caller, who refused to go by anything other than Dixie turned into a somewhat friend, if you can even call someone who you know no personal details about your friend. After a month the phone calls had turned from cringe worthy puns to actual conversations about your day. You had started to look forward to the unknown flashing on your screen, and sharing the mundane details of your day with Dixie.

In two months you learned a lot more about Dixie. He went to your university, he was an avid gamer, he majored in computer science, and apparently it was now part of his daily routine to call you whenever he was cooling down from his workout on the treadmill - explaining the creepy breathlessness of his voice and beeps in the background. Sometimes you had half a mind to go to the university gym during your calls and see your mysterious friend, but somehow you never found the courage. It was nice not knowing what Dixie looked like, not judging someone by their looks but just by the content of their words. There was no room for disappointment.

It also oddly comforted you that you would never meet him and during your nightly conversations you would end up sharing thoughts that you’d be too uncomfortable sharing with even your best friends. Thoughts about the uncertainty you had over graduating soon, thoughts about being sad over failed relationships, even thoughts about your random existential crisis that would plague you mid week. Dixie was empathetic and had a knack for comforting you with small jokes and his own struggles. You would never admit it to Namjoon, but Dixie was slowly becoming your closest friend, even surpassing him to a certain extent.

"You're insane you know that?" Namjoon chided as you talked about Dixie and how you considered him a friend now. Even though Namjoon was your best friend since first grade, he sometimes didn't understand why you romanticised daily events so much. He never understood why you kept giving Dixie the benefit of the doubt, why you kept picking up his phone calls even when you knew it was going to be a lame joke or two.

"I'm not insane Joon! Haven't you heard of pen pals? This is the same thing but with voice."

"Nah. I think it's your crippling loneliness. Which is why we're going to Jin's frat party tonight." Namjoon was not having any of your excuses. So what if your last relationship was a year ago. You and Yoongi were great together. He was the perfect boyfriend and after he went to LA to pursue his music career, you told him you'd wait. Turns out he wasn't on the same page as you since six months after moving, he called you to break things off. He was right though, it would have been stupid to wait for him when neither of you knew when and even if he was ever coming back. It was unfair to the both of you to keep dragging this thing along. But even if Yoongi hadn't been around the last year and a half, you just couldn't see yourself with anyone else. You still missed talking to him every night and sharing your day, laughing at stupid videos together or just listening to him playing the piano through the static line of your phone. Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe you were lonely and the only reason you were so attached to Dixie was because of the way his phone calls had replaced Yoongi's and how you no longer waited at the end of your day staring at your phone waiting for your ex's call but instead you received real actual calls from your voice pen pal.

You sighed agreeing with Namjoon and went home, not exactly looking forward to the party and missing Dixie’s call.

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

Jin's frat was notorious for the wildest parties on campus. It was always a cacophony of drunk students and a pit of hedonism. When Namjoon and you arrived, the party was in full swing and you thanked your best friend for having the foresight of pre-drinking. The bottle of grapefruit soju you had emptied earlier at your shared apartment ensured that you were not put off by the plethora of drunk guys trying to hit on you microseconds after you entered.

Looking for Jin and let's be honest, a little gin as well, you and Namjoon made your way to the kitchen, to be greeted by your tall friend doing a keg stand. Beer dripped down his chin as his fraternity brothers held him up, his feet almost touching the ceiling. As you poured yourself a gin and tonic, Jin climbed down from the keg to a chorus of applause. Much to your chagrin, he walked over, draping his arms around your shoulders and plastering your back with his beer soaked chest.

"Ew get off me you vermin!" You squealed, shivering in the gross feeling, your backless top doing nothing to shield you from your friend’s shirt as he refused to budge.

"Vermin? VERMIN?! I invite you to my house, give you free drinks, and an array of decent dicks to pick from and I'm the vermin?" Jin finally detaches, giving you a scowl as he leans against the kitchen island, pouring himself what you gather is his tenth drink of the night.

"Jin all of these guys are as gross as you. And I've told you I don't need to get laid!"

"Sure tell that to your vibrator working overtime."

"How did you even - " you sputered, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Namjoon, obviously. And before you kill him, there are no secrets between friends and part-time lovers." He winked, making you roll your eyes. Namjoon and Jin had been on and off since the beginning of freshmen year, neither the type for commitment but to your dismay loved to tell you all about their rollercoaster of a relationship. You swear you could write a thesis on dysfunctional relationships using theirs as a case study.

"Ew. Please stop. I don't need to know about you and Joon getting it on."

"Well then let me introduce you to someone so you can get it on." He wiggled his eyebrows puckering his lips to annoy you. 

"I know all your brothers Jin and no thank you." You lightly slapped his lips making him groan as he grabbed your wrist continuing his tirade. You’d be lying if you said his frat brothers had never caught your eye - they were famous for their astoundingly good looks, in fact there even seemed to be an instagram page dedicated to people randomly spotting them on campus (@betatauinthewild). However, their good looks did not make up for the fact that they were a bunch of loud fuckboys. You loved Jin and Namjoon and would literally stab anyone who said anything against them but you had to agree that they were the biggest players of the group, finding a new person to bed almost every weekend. That is, unless they were with each other - case and point their dysfunctional relationship.

"Well we have a new brother and he's my little brother. He's a sophomore, he just joined, and he's your type. The whole quiet but nice guy type." Jin continued, ignoring you in typical fashion.

"I don't have a type."

"Please! As if Yoongi wasn’t a cookie cutter tsundere. Come on let me introduce you to him!" He grabbed your shoulder and pleaded, pouting and widening his eyes in the most adorable puppy dog face you had seen him pull.

"Can we not talk about Yoongi please." You sighed. You finished your drink and proceeded to pour another one. 

"Yes! Let's talk about JK!"

"Jin... come on. Let's just drink okay?"

"Fine but I'm telling you, you'll get along. He's a great guy."

An hour into the party, you had lost both Jin and Namjoon and were getting tired of Jin’s exceedingly drunk frat brothers trying their pick up lines of the day on you. Your head was hurting from the noise of the party and you were sure if you saw another couple subtly trying to test their exhibitionism kink you were going to puke. So as it was typical for whenever you went to these parties, you started to make your way to Jin’s room. Jin may be loud and obnoxious and being lusted after by pretty much the entire campus, but he was reliable for one thing: he never fucked where he slept. And so his room became a sort of sanctuary for you when these parties would get too much.

You made your way up the stairs almost tripping over two guys who had decided that making out horizontally on the stairs was a good idea - you did not envy how busted their backs would be tomorrow. Punching in the code you walked in to find that there was already someone there, reclined on the bed with his arms behind his head, earphones in, humming gently as he stared at the ceiling. You had never seen him before, but boy did you wish you did. His dark hair was splayed over the pillows, a smile ghosting his full lips. He was dressed in all black, much like you but unlike your lace bodysuit and skinny jeans, he was wearing a boxy back t shirt with ripped jeans, his feet in those questionable toe socks. And he was buff, even though his body was mostly covered you could make out the muscle in his arms, one of which had intricate tattoos etched on to. You’re unaware how long you stared at this stranger, but suddenly he turns his face looking at you. Seeing you there he immediately jumps up, pulling his earphones out, startling you in turn.

“I- I’m sorry. Y-you can’t be h-here,” he stutters out, a soft blush rising up his cheeks as he nervously pulls at his ear.

“I should be saying that to you. Why are you in Jin’s room?” You shut the door, leaning on it, feeling oddly territorial.

“I- Hyung needed my room.” You found the stuttering boy in front of you endearing. Something about how he bashfully stared at anything but you while speaking made you want to hug him. 

“Oh my god! You let him into your room? Drunk during a party?” You almost scream, but lower your voice seeing the alarm on his face. Walking over, you sat next to him, a few feet away so as not to make him uncomfortable. “Do you like doing laundry or something?” you joked.

Hearing your question the boy perks up, looking at you with a bright smile that made your heart skip a beat. “I do actually! How did you know?” he asks excitedly. You almost felt bad bursting his bubble.

“I didn’t… It’s just - you know Jin’s probably having sex in there right?” You look at the abject horror on his face in sympathy, so you try to change the subject. “Nevermind. Why are you hiding in here?”

“I’m not hiding. I just got bored. Everyone there just wants to hook up or get blackout drunk.”

“You do realise which frat you’re part of right?”

“I know,” he chuckles, seemingly more relaxed as he lays down on the bed, his feet still on the floor. “I honestly didn’t even wanna join but I’m a legacy so my dad really wanted me to be a part of it, Beta Tau pride and all.”

“Not to be a bitch, but dude you sound like a protagonist of a shitty college romcom,” you laugh looking down at him as he smiles, crossing your legs on the bed as you turn towards him, forcing yourself to ignore how cute he looks from this angle.

“You think you’re being a bitch, but that's a great compliment. I wish my life was a romcom. It’d be so easy…”

“Okay, emo. What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to think it’s dumb.”

“Hey I don’t even know your name! What have you got to lose?”

“Fine. There’s this girl I like and we always call each other… Well I call her.... at this time, but she didn’t pick up. So yes I’m emo, and yes I wish I was in a romcom so I’d go downstairs and randomly run into her.” He looks at you with a sad smile, shrugging slightly, and you feel yourself deflate. Not that you were interested in him or anything. You were sure it was just the alcohol in your system making you feel extra empathetic. Yup that’s it.

“Hey, that’s not stupid,” you say gently. “What if she’s down there did you check?”

“Well… I don’t actually know what she looks like… So, no…”

“Oh then maybe you should call her again! What if she was busy?”

“I don’t wanna be pushy, you know? I’m not even sure she thinks of me the same-”

“YO DIXIE! You in there?” A loud knock booms through the room accompanied by a deep voice. The attractive stranger next to you rolls his eyes before standing up, and at hearing his nickname you feel your heart kickstart, racing as you blink in disbelief. It can’t be…

“Dixie?” you stutter out.

“What’s up dude?” He opens the doors talking to Taehyung, one of the other Beta Tau brothers, as they start talking about something. You can barely hear their conversation, your brain full of scenarios and questions, your face crimson. You never thought you’d meet Dixie in real life. Do you tell him? Do you just run away? Why did he have to be so hot?!

Taehyung notices you on the bed for the first time and in typical fashion starts hollering and high-fiving Dixie. “Damn dude! The president’s best friend! Good for you!” He snickered as Dixie looked at him with his mouth agape, before turning to you. “Ay Y/N. Treat our boy JK well okay? He’s too nice for you!”

“Fuck off hyung!” JK, apparently that’s his name, shoves Taehyung as he grins widely before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and shutting the door, seemingly getting all that he came for.

“You’re Dixie…?” You stare up at him, standing up as you try to control the overwhelming urge to wrap your hands around him. Fuck, maybe Joon was right you did have a crush on your voice pen pal.

“I- Y/N?” He looks at you, mirroring your wide eyes. “The same Y/N I’ve been talking to?”

“Call me,” you almost whisper.

“What?”

“Call me so I know it’s real.” You move closer holding your phone up as he pulls his out of his pocket to dial your number. Your phone rings, displaying a set of numbers instead of unknown for the first time, and the two of you just stare at the vibrating device in your hand. It seems like time stood still, the air thick with tension as your shitty ringtone bounces off the walls. That is until you start laughing. Not giggling, full on laughing, holding your stomach as tears spill down your face, as JK looks at you in alarm, his arms hovering near you as you double over.

“Holy shit! You are the protagonist of a romcom!” You finally wheeze out as you hold his arm for support, while he looks at you with a frown. You’re unsure why this was your reaction, but you recover quickly to start your interrogation.

“So what’s your name Dixie or JK?”

“Jungkook, actually. Dixie’s my gamertag and JK is just what Jin hyung calls me.”

“How did you get my number?”

“Umm… I might have stolen it from hyung’s phone…”

“Why?”

“Because he prank called my friends first.” He spoke with a pout, and you swear your heart forgot to function.

“Why keep calling?”

“Really Y/N? You’re gonna interrogate me?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Keep talking Dixie!” You chuckled as his shy demeanor gave way to the Dixie, well the Jungkook, you knew. It was weird how fast the earlier awkwardness dissipated into comfort.

“What? I thought you sounded pretty! Sue me!” He shrugged, leaning back against the door, his hands in his pocket. Your eyes followed the movement, momentarily distracted by how his forearms flexed. Clearing your throat, you continued as he smirked, not missing the way your eyes seemed to be roaming his body.

“You said you were trying to call the girl you like. So you like me?” You try to sound as matter of fact as you could, but your voice wavered slightly at the last part as you made the mistake of looking at his face. He tilted his head, causing his hair to fall into his eyes that were boring holes into you, his smirk getting larger. Oh how you wished he turned back into the boy talking about how much he liked laundry.

“I thought it was obvious. I call you every night.” He stood straight, taking a step towards you causing heat to creep up your face at his sudden confidence. You don’t respond as he moves closer, causing his steps to falter. “Do you like me?” he asks, his voice a little smaller. You’re getting whiplash from the changes in his tone, but his question makes you feel warm. You haven’t felt this way in a long time, there’s butterflies in your stomach, your hands feel clammy, and you’re sure you can feel the heat off his body, so aware of where he stands merely inches away from you.

“I think so…” you move closer and he raises his hand as if to hold your hip but stops, hovering just centimeters away as looks at you, his gaze smouldering.

“What’ll make you sure of it?” he asks in a whisper, and before you can even comprehend the question, you are leaning up on your toes to press a light kiss against his lips. His lips are slightly chapped and you’re sure he can feel your heartbeat through them. Your skin tingles where he brings his hand on your hip, gently holding you. He doesn’t push you further, just leans his forehead on yours when you separate to whisper quietly, “This.”

“And?” His nose brushes against yours as you place your hand on his chest, his pounding heart mimicking yours. He slowly rubs his hands on your hips where they lay, and it’s like your skin is electrified.

“I’m sure,” you say as he crashes his lips on yours, pulling you closer as your arms snake around his neck. His reaction is much stronger this time as he moves his lips against yours feverently. He pulls you flush against him, your body molding against his hard muscles. His hands grip at your hips as he licks lightly at your lip, groaning as they part. It seems like he can’t decide what to do with his hands, roaming them over your sides, relishing the little moan you make as one of them cups your ass. His earlier shyness disappears, and who are you to resist him, as your hands in his hair pull him closer. It’s like everything finally makes sense, why you could never ignore his calls, why your heart raced whenever you heard him call your name through the static of your speaker. You had spent this whole time convincing yourself that he was just a stranger you could vent to when it was clear to you now that you were falling for him.

He whispers your name as you break apart, but his mouth continues down your jaw to your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. His teeth drag across your collarbone, and you whimper at the way he soothes it with his tongue as you press your body even closer into his.

“Hey Y/N! Joon’s looking for you!”

The two of you break apart at the interruption, chest heaving and faces flushed. Looking up at Jungkook, you smile as he looks away shyly, his lip caught between his teeth, before turning to your best friend who is excitedly hopping in the doorway.

“I knew you would get along with JK!” Jin exclaims as you look once again at Jungkook before you both break out in a laugh. Trust Jin to know who you’d fall for before you. He comes up to pat his frat brother on the shoulder before his proud smile turns into a glare, warning the two of you that his room was for sleeping only and abruptly kicking you out. 

The two of you giggle as you make your way downstairs, unable to keep your hands off of each other, going from holding hands to hugging to sneaking kisses in the kitchen as you make your drinks. Before the night ends the two of you end up sitting in the backyard, kissing under the stars and planning your first date later that week, even though it felt like you had known each other an eternity.

You had never felt luckier to pick up a random phone call.

[itwoodbeprefect]

livewatch thoughts for sga 1x08 (or 09, because the order on my dvds seems to differ from the one on wikipedia), home:

rodney being so sure he can do a very risky but scientifically interesting thing that he doesn’t even deign to acknowledge that it is risky (because he’s the one doing it, so of course it will work, because he believes himself infallible, so basically there’s no risk at all!) is such a warning for things to come (cough-trinity-cough) and it’s not like i think they were intentionally setting up a single season 2 episode already, but it does make me appreciate that we get a whole episode exploring the consequences of this character flaw of his later on.

we can see john thinking for a second while rodney is talking and then he goes “eight hundred and four years” (how long it would take them to get rodney by puddlejumper if he breaks the gate on the fog planet) and that’s our first hint at math nerd john!! beautiful

rodney, talking about travelling 804 years by puddlejumper to come get him: “but you would do that, right?” john: “of course we would.” fjdkf.

ALSO the first time we see john with his brick of a copy of war and peace! many iconic sheppard things contained in these first six and a half minutes of the episode.

same point as the one above but i’m not done yet because he just... thinks he’s so clever for this, gosh. i feel like there’s something to be said here about how this is not at all a fun read (and he’s a very repressed man used to denying himself), and i don’t imagine john has some hidden deep interest in russian literature (i mean, possible, but unlikely), so the actual real point of it is just performance, start to finish. if he ever finishes it, that’s some weird bragging rights, but even better is when, like in this scene, someone catches him at it while he’s reading because they will ask because it’s not a very inconspicuous choice of reading material. and it makes him look smart, potentially, but it’s also a little “look at me! i’m weird and quirky! #sorandom.” (yes, i am diagnosing john with socially awkward lonely teen girl disease because he decided to bring russian classic lit when he moved to another galaxy. i am.)

anyway, here’s his face, now that i’ve spent so many words on this:

elizabeth giving john a chance to be the one to go home if rodney’s gate project works out (giving him an excuse, even, because she says he’d be the one most qualified to brief general hammond) is both kind, because obviously john entered into the mission very late and he did NOT sign on as military commander fighting wraith, and also extremely silly, for pretty much the same reasons. you found this man in antarctica, elizabeth. he was cut off from earth way before he left the planet.

rodney thinking he commands respect at the sgc and has a bunch of virtues of which “patience” is one is very sweet and very funny and i’m glad ford clearly recognizes it for that. the team bonding and found family of it all is very <3

john talking to teyla: “then there’s all those cool earth things i told you about. football, ferris wheels.” in part this is of course a function of this being a tv show and repeated mentions of the same little detail feeling like a fun callback that ties this moment to previous episodes (which it is and does!!) but in-universe it tickles me how incredibly specific and wildly misleading john’s descriptions are of what earth is like. it is going to be very disappointing when there is not, in fact, a football field full of ferris wheels at the end of every city block.

elizabeth making an argument for a continued presence in the pegasus galaxy is an interesting discussion because on the one hand she’s claiming that they have a responsibility to the people of pegasus after waking up the wraith and on the other she acts like they, the people from earth, are the only ones that could possibly do anything with the ancient technology, like they don’t have a pretty effective gene therapy and could give that to at least some of the people of pegasus, who could then operate atlantis mostly without the earthlings.

god, john getting compliments from general hammond that clearly mean a lot to him, while knowing that’s not actually happening as a viewer, that’s. that’s painful.

rodney coming home and turning on the television is great because a) he moved to another galaxy, possibly never to return, but kept on paying his cable bill? dude. and b) the tv plays something for which the audio is “we are controlling the transmission” and that’s FORESHADOWING. i love this. (of course alternately he did not continue paying for cable but he just doesn’t think about it and so the aliens make his tv work because they don’t know it shouldn’t, but my first interpretation is funnier, so i’m sticking with that.)

the way this contructed reality falls apart and the bits and pieces we as viewers see of where it’s not right is EXCELLENT and john’s undead buddies mitch and dex in particular are a whole eassay on their own, but rodney’s line about the laws of physics having gone out the window and that “it’s like looking through a microscope at a cell culture and seeing a thousand dancing hamsters” is quite possibly my favorite thing here. A THOUSAND. DACING HAMSTERS. so it’s a+ content and would make you go viral in a second on youtube, is what you’re saying, rodney.

fake hammond: “major sheppard seemed uniquely capable of manipulating his own fabricated reality.” john: “when i think about the scenarios i COULD have thought up i’d kick myself.” GOD. lots of john thoughts, lots of fic space.

john: “this isn’t life! what do you want us to do, just pretend?” fjdkfd. okay, so, in a reading of canon in which john is queer man pretending all the time, this is an interesting dialogue snippet.

the discussion at the end honestly makes so little sense (the alien’s like, every time the gate activates some of us die, and the humans are like, hm okay, but we are human and we like living so you should send us back anyway, and the alien is like, okay that’s fair), but i don’t mind in the least. this is such a nice episode and the dilemma they’re faced with feels very star trek to me (vague fog aliens that are never given shape other than fog or a human illusion and a plot that leads to moral questions and a true test of the character and the intentions of humanity? PRECISELY the sweet spot for the tos budget), and i love that.

[love-toxin]

excuses; makoi azumako.

request: “Could I get King w/ a f!darling who is extremely petite and submissive/shy? Pwease? 🥺👉👈”

warnings: smoking, PDA, public groping, manipulation/gaslighting, excessive cursing. 

words: 903

Walking out on the streets together was one thing, your boyfriend's arm slung over your shoulders and his eyes freezing anyone in place that dared to come more than a few feet towards you. The night brought out all the creeps and stalkers, not to mention the wandering eyes of those who wondered what you were doing in the arms of a yakuza. But somehow, it got even worse when you cut through an alley to meet up with his so-called "brothers", all of whom Makoi insisted were the best men you'd ever have the pleasure of meeting.

What a big, fat, terrifying lie that was. 

"Ain't she a cutie, huh? How'd King snag such a pretty lil' princess?"

One of the closest beside you reached out to brush a lock of hair from your face, only for the group of them to snicker and laugh when you recoiled and buried yourself deeper under Makoi's arm. He hadn't mentioned that most of his friends were well into their thirties and forties, with only a few being even close to his own age. The majority was overwhelming so you couldn't exactly compare, but having a group of grown men ogle you and tease your boyfriend about how good you must look under all those clothes...it felt like you were living one of your darkest, deepest nightmares, and you wanted out. 

"M-Mako…"

You clung to his jacket, his forearm bumping against your mouth as he lit the cigarette that dangled between his lips. He took a puff, and the smoke burned through your nose and caused you to cough when he blew it over your head, despite knowing how sick the smell would make you. You weren't sure if he didn't remember, or just didn't care. 

"Huh? Spit it out."

With a free hand, he ruffled your hair with all five fingers--though for him, it was more a show of grabbing you by the head and tugging through your locks even if it hurt. Especially if it hurt. 

"I..I w-wanna go home, Mako...can you please take me home?" 

At that, Makoi's friends shared a few glances between each other, and you didn't understand what they were thinking until you heard a few wolf whistles arise, and your boyfriend yanked you closer to him by the hip. That wasn't what you meant at all, but it didn't stop the blush from rising to your cheeks as you were forced to listen to the lewd taunts of his gang, and it brought tears to your eyes as you prayed that Makoi would just take you home and forget about it. 

How you so wished for that to be the case. And yet…

"I ain't touched you yet, and you're already fuckin' crying. Smarten up, princess."

His nicknames weren't affectionate in the least, they were just another way for him to jeer at you and have a good laugh at your expense. Makoi pinched the bridge of your nose just to grab your attention, and once he got it, you thanked the gods that he bid his cronies farewell and tugged you off further down the other end of the back alley.

Getting away from the other yakuza didn't necessarily mean you were safe, but at least you didn't have to worry about Makoi flipping your skirt up for them all to see, or slipping you some tongue while he groped you just to show off his dominance. Being with those people brought a different side of him out, one that forgoed almost any sense of shame and only cared about using you as a trophy. But deep, deep inside your heart, you felt a twisted sort of guilt upon thinking those things--you loved Mako after all, even if he was a bit...rough around the edges. And rude. And violent. And...

"...I want pork. There's a place down the street that's open."

...Hungry. Whatever had overtaken your boyfriend in that time had passed now, and you jumped at the sound of his stomach rumbling at your side, his appetite enough to cull his mood and draw his interests towards satiating himself. 

"I-I didn't bring my money, Mako.."

It was half an excuse, and half the truth. He always expected you to eat with him when you went out together, always saying one thing or another about it making you taller or some other ridiculous comment. Even if you were a little hungry now, it would be a convenient excuse to get him to bring you home, no matter how grumpy he’d be about not filling his cravings. 

"Fuck off. You're not paying for a damn thing anyways. Just decide what you want before we go in so I can fuckin' eat." 

With that, Makoi grabbed you by the back of the neck and tilted your head up, his lips smothering any and all retorts while the double tips of his tongue stroked your own and drew you into an even deeper kiss. In the dim light of a back alley, in the middle of a crowded street, there seemed to be no place that he wouldn’t remind you who your heart belonged to. He was crude, and a bully, and so full of hot air his head might explode...but he was yours, and that was all you needed to be happy. He was all you needed. 

At least, that’s what Mako told you. 

[dharmadischarge]

Annunaki chapter 1

"Dying is a wild night and a new road."

– Emily Dickinson

"Love never dies a natural death."

-Anais Nin

"We all float down here."

-Pennywise, the clown.

1

Cynthia "sam" Lynskey: was a chubby, tired librarian. Who had been looking for a fix. "I am in control,"; she wanted to tell herself, yet she knew this was a regret waiting for honesty to validate it. She is standing in the hall of a house, Out in the hills. The lights are grim with heavy shadows. Heavy contrasts of black and glowing gold highlighting whites of skin.

The preacher and his family were squatting in a dilapidated hell-hole they called home (or at least a place of business which, if we were honest, that is kind of what home is). The walls had holes from punches in the plaster with splintering cracks. Roaches that were long-dead sprinkled across the carpet that is piss-yellow from decades of nicotine stains.

A single couch in this room and a stained mattress her eyes are locked onto in the next room. That Sam is uncomfortably familiar with; she was responsible for some of those stains—over six months of talking herself down from sobriety, talking herself down from pride or dignity.

The couch was near the entryway, with a trinity of sleeping, dirt-covered "white trash." One child, the rest could be anywhere from twenty to forty years old. Sam's clean floral dress and translucent scarf aligned her with a world of, "I am fashionable even if it looks like Sunday best for the Walmart crowd."

She was waiting next to the preacher's bedroom, which in her mind meant that she would be eating out his wife tonight. "if I have to fuck two of you," she thought, "then I better get double." Out of a kind of politeness, Sam started to cough, looking at the women sitting on the couch before saying,

"you look good tonight, jenny."

The door opened to a short fat man wearing a black colored button-up shirt and a straw hat fedora before the women could respond.

"Hi, preacher," said Sam.

"hey," he said, standing to the side so she could enter.

Sam walked into the room, anxious and excited. She had been out of her meds for most of the day and agitated at a world that didn't seem to hurt as much as she did. The excitement left, however, when she saw the kid in the corner of the room. He had a nervous smile.

"who's the kid? and why is he here?" Said Sam glaring with evident frustration at the preacher, who didn't seem shaken from her exclamation

.

. "I'm, no fucking kid," The kid's voice shook.

The preacher said, "calm down, boy." then he looked at Sam, "It's his birthday."

and turning red in the face, she whispered, "so?"

"how much you have?"

"Just a twenty? but we had an agreement."

"and we still do, Just it's not me. It's the kid,"

"I'm not a kid,"

"How old is he?"

"he just turned eighteen. Now before this gets any more awkward, James, show her your id."

The kid listened and did what he was told.

"it says July 12. That's today," said Sam.

"You wanted a ladder? I'll give you that and two oxie."

"I want it in advance," Said Sam.

"no." said the preacher, but he reached in his pocket and pulled out a joint. He lit it, taking a hit, holding it out to Sam while he said, "we have a deal?"

She said nothing but took a hit off the joint held it in so long when she finally breathed again. There wasn't all that much smoke. She looked at the kid and held it out to him. His legs were shaking as he walked over to her. Then he sat on the bed.

The preacher said, "I will square it off when you're finished." then left, closing the door behind him.

She rubbed his shoulders, leaned forward, and kissed his neck. "let me see your tits." he said red-eyed. "she didn't say anything but pulled down the front of her dress. Awkward hands fumbling towards violence, pinched, and fished.

"Hey, you're hurting me." said Sam

"shut your face," Said James.

"This isn't working," said Sam, facepalming.

"Hey, come on, I'm sorry." then he stood up, unbuttoning his jeans.

"Just lay down, kid," she said. "I will do the rest."

He lay back, and she took his small sour cock in her mouth and began with eyes closed to fulfill a bargain. And when he was hard, she said, "Let's get this over with." lifted her skirt. Her pussy had stubble where she had shaven it yesterday. She laid back and guided him into her. Her distracted mind was saying, "you pull out, this isn't an all cum served buffet." he went on humping while she covered her eyes with arms. After ten minutes, she felt him squirt it off and then kiss her lips more fragile than she thought him capable of while all evidence of decency was gone when he continued to grope and play with her despite the tears.

Sam wiped his mess off of her, not hiding any disgust, and waited for the preacher to get her pills. The kid gave the preacher deliberate and obvious a self-assured smile and walked out.

"So who was he?" said Sam,

"James? He is my sister's boy. his dad thought he was a queer, and they ask for a favor."

"so what was I? his birthday present?" Said Sam.

"no, can't give away what you don't own; your more like a runt that is almost useless with its mouth taped shut so the fighting dogs can get a taste of blood." Said the preacher.

Hair frazzled, she tried to straighten it up and saw James sitting on the porch's warped stairs. He was smoking a self rolled cigarette; he didn't look at her.

"Those will kill you," she said, going by.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," said James.

"I let you do it, so don't worry about it," said Sam.

Then, as if he was trying to impress her, he looked up to the sky and said, "there are not even any stars, no sir, not tonight."

She got in her car, turning the key, a rough idle than the reverse. She saw him in her headlights, still on the front porch as she drove off into the darkness and was comforted by it.

2

The drive home was pleasant enough — the whitewashed walls of her house revealed itself through the tall grass around it. Sam's life was in the valley, where the mountains glowed on the horizon. With the majority of civilization hidden behind walls of a prison. The privately-owned prison/factories of indentured labor.

"shit," said Sam as she paid closer attention to the lights from the city hiding the stars. Dreamy, stoned eyes and a whisper of "it ain't that bad."

She saw the black cat for the first time while making her way up the creaking stairs of the porch. She did a dance of cracking the door and "shoo, shoo, I got nothing for you." trying to escape from its overt friendliness. The way it tried to rub against her shin as she ascended the stairs. Following her from the first of her "shoo's."

In a magnificent leap, it landed on her back, climbing up her dress, running over her bare shoulder, and leaping as she leaned down to pick up her keys. the door is pushing open as she reached for the black cat, Sam saying softly, "oh, damn it."

She lit the lamp and looking for any glare of reflection in the black cat's eyes, hoping it would give away the location that it was hiding in. She said, "oh fuck you," then Sam exhaled in exasperation. "You can, fucking stay, but I am getting high and going to bed." she locked the front door then went upstairs carrying the lamp to her room.

"Cynthia, why do they call you, Sam?" The voice was scratchy, calm, and with no visible source. Sam sat down the lamp on her end table and went back down the stairs.

"excuse me," she said, looking around.

Then she reached for the drawer that held the revolver; her father had owned before his passing. There she saw the black cat, sitting on the kitchen counter, staring into her eyes out of the darkness, and it started to sing. "jimmy cracked corn, and I don't care. Jimmy cracked corn, and I don't care, the monster's gone away."

Then she saw a spiral of smoke, and the cat was gone.

"Sam?" said a voice behind her. "is this what you were looking for?"

she felt the barrel push against her spine. "Maybe," she said, embarrassed that she had said anything.

The gun pulled away, and she heard a chair drag across the floor beside her.

"Sit down, please." said the voice.

Sam sat down and crossed her arms on the table. Walking casually to the chair opposite her, she saw something not human, but at least humanoid.

"I'll be staying awhile," it said. but was then noticing how wounded she seemed.

"It's for your good," then it held up the gun, and it turned to dust in its hand.

"he laced me with LSD? Didn't he," she said to herself.

"no, I am not a hallucination." said the thing,

"what are you?"

"I am a god or a monster, you could say. I'm not from here. You can call me Teki, and I am a cosmic tourist."

"tourist?" said Sam.

"If you are going to ask a question, you really should ask less ambiguously...for example. What is a cosmic tourist?" after a painfully long silence, he raised his scaly eyebrow and leaned forward as if to say, 'are you serious?'.

Sam, surprised, said, "I'm sorry; I am a little high right now."

"don't let me stop you go on ask your question."

"Why does everyone have to be an asshole, even aliens?"

"Why does everyone have to be an asshole? That is a good question."

Then he held his chin as if in deep thought, rubbing his gill-like whiskers. "maybe that is the core of tourism? I might just be looking for someone to surprise me. someone to make the whole mess worth it" then, clapping his hands together once he said, "it's settled; you will be my new passport."

"So, What does that mean?" said Sam.

"Well, my last one died, so I have been stranded for over a month in this hell hole. looking for his replacement, but luckily I found you."

"Your passport died?"

"My former one, yes, but I am hoping to replace him"

"I am a person, not a passport."

"A passport has to be a person. It is the nature of passports to be conscious and alive. Though your feeble human mind can't comprehend much, that isn't your fault. But alas, there is the downside of traveling to these obscure corners of the zoo. If your passport dies, then well, you are stuck with a serial killer monkey, for forty or fifty years."

"Fuck you."

"oh, come on, you will have a better life than here. Didn't you ever find it strange that a hundred-foot wall surrounded your whole tiny world?"

"well yeah."

"Well, now you get to go beyond the wall! Think about it; there is a universe out there, and not all the stars are artificial like in the zoo."

"can I think about it?"

"no!" he said with a smile.

"your first job is to dispose of this body," he said as he opened the closet door revealing a shriveled grey octopus creature with humanoid legs and eyes.

"Can't you make him disapear? Like you did my dad's gun?" said Sam.

"I could, but this little fella was with me for almost a century, and he deserves a burial."

"you do it."

"I," said Teki, with false pride, "am a God, and we don't do manual labor."

"well, I am tired, and that is just as good a reason," said Sam.

"Well, he doesn't have any bones...let's go burn him in the yard. Just know that your funeral will be just casual."

"he's your friend. Why am I supposed to be sniveling." Said Sam. Teki, in his first sincere moment, looked at her emotionless, and picked up the tentacled creature, and carried him out to the front yard.

After he laid the alien down, a suit appeared over his sexless body, and he solemnly closed his hands together. Him standing in his new funeral attire before his expired passport. With eyes closed. With startling immediacy, he raised his hands and said, "let there be light!" and the dead creature was in flames. Sam sat on the porch for awhile but was told by Teki, "it could take a few hours for this guy to cook down. You get some rest, and I will see you in the morning." So that is what she did, curled up under her quilt. She thought about how she would kick the preacher's ass for lacing her drugs with hallucinogenics.

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 27 - The Party

this 'episode' will discuss underage drinking and its connection to mental health. This storyline will conclude in three chapters if you want to skip it.

Varian's back ached and he was beginning to get a crick in his neck, but he dared not move. He was in the middle of posing for a picture. Honey Lemon had asked him to be her model for her latest painting.

They were both sitting inside one of the art studios on the SFAI campus. The San Fansokyo Art Institute was the artistic counterpart to SFIT and Honey Lemon was a part time student here as well. She had a final coming up and needed to complete a portrait before the end of next week and so Varian had volunteered to be her subject; any excuse to spend more time with the pretty redhead.

Though his plans to spend some quality time with his crush weren't going quite like he had hoped. She was too busy concentrating on her work to really talk to him and his joints felt stiff from standing still for so long in one position. He was also really, really bored. She had instructed him to stand facing to the side and all there was to look at was the blank wall opposite himself.

He sneaked a sidelong glance at her out of the corner of his eye. She sat upon an odd looking bench with an easel attached to the front. In one hand she held a palette and a paintbrush in the other. She chewed on the end of its long handle in thought as she straddled the 'art horse' before her face lit up in inspiration. She then leaned down to apply paint to the bottom portion of the canvas. Varian watched as her brow furrowed in concentration and she stuck out the tip of her tongue as she tried to delicately get the stroke just right.

Varian had to stifle a laugh. She looked so silly and beautiful and adorable all at the same time. He could just watch her all day he thought. Shame he was stuck facing the dang wall.

Honey Lemon heard him anyways and looked up from her work.

"Getting tired?" She asked with sympathy.

"No. No. Not at all." Varian lied but he couldn't resist rolling his shoulders anyways to try an ease the soreness in his neck.

"I just got this one little section to finish and then we can take a break and you can stretch, promise."

"It's okay, take your time." He assured her.

It took her another ten minutes to come to a stopping point.

Finally free to move, Varian stretched his arms wide and then proceeded to rub the side of his neck as he walked over to look at Honey Lemon's handy work. It was very good he had to admit. It wasn't finished but what she had completed was rendered in great realistic detail. But was his nose really that long? He self consciously peered down at the tip of own nose, not that he could really gauge it's length that way.

His thoughts were interrupted though by Honey Lemon.

"I usually don't do realism" She nervously excused herself, "but the assignment was to render fabric on a person. What do you think so far?"

"Well, it looks great to me!" He encouraged. "It's every bit as good the royal paintings inside Corona's palace."

"Really!?" She blushed. "That's quite the compliment. I bet they have a lot of priceless artworks. I don't know if it's that good, but I did have fun painting your googles." She reached her hand up to readjust his headgear.

He laughed and bent down to give her a better angle. Once she was done he looked at her and they shared a smile. It was nice being at her eye level for once. Oh, why did have to be so short!?

He was going to give her another compliment. Tell her how lovely he thought she was, but the moment was ruined by another student walking in on them.

"Hey, Honey Lemon! Getting a head start on midterms hun?" The tall guy said as he sauntered over. He had blonde hair and wore a red blazer and tan dress pants.

"Well it's due next week, so I don't know how much of a head start this is?" She laughed.

"Two schools, dual majors, and a part time job; when do you ever find time to just have fun?" He teased.

"Oh but I have lots of fun learning!" She sang and they both broke out in laughter.

Varian felt a little left out. Apparently this was one of Honey Lemon's friends at the art school and they were sharing some sort of inside joke that he wasn't privy to.

"Oh, Brad, I'd like you to meet my friend Varian." She introduced, "He goes to SFIT. Varian this is Brad. He's in my drawing class."

"Ah, a member of the nerd school!" Brad said not unkindly as he offered to shake Varian's hand, "It's rare to get a visit from you mad scientist types. Got any interest in the arts?"

"Eh, I draw sometimes." Varian admitted. "Usually drafting."

"He's really good at it. You should see his naturalist drawings." Honey Lemon praised and Varian had to blush. He didn't really consider himself an artist, but drawing was often very helpful in his researches.

"Oh, well maybe you should bring some by to the party and show them off." Brad said. "We're holding our annual Fourth of July blow out bash at the fraternity house tonight. The whole school is going to be there. That's why I drop by, to invite you Honey Lemon. You're both welcome to come, and bring the rest of your nerd friends too. I bet they'd like a break from their test tubes as well." He laughed at his own joke.

"Oh, well, that's very nice of you Brad, but I don't know if I'll be able to make it." Honey Lemon apologized. "I gotta work a shift tonight."

"Awe, that's a shame. Well, if you manage to get off the party starts at eight. See ya around." He waved goodbye and walked out the door.

After he left Varian spoke up, "You're going on patrol on a holiday?"

"Well, maybe," she bit her lip and then confessed, "I didn't want to say anything to Brad, but those frat parties aren't really for me. They can get kind of...wild."

Varian laughed, "Not as wild as a Saporian party I bet. One time they released all of horses from the stables and built a bonfire right on the front lawn of the palace using all the saddles as kindling. They said something about 'burning the bonds of oppression'. Anyways the party lasted till dawn. They were still at by sunup. Now that was wild, if a little weird."

Honey Lemon stared blankly at him in confusion. "You...you mean like a protest? Are the Saporians activists?"

"Yeeeah, you might could say that." Varian slowly said in a strained voice. Then he gave an awkward coughed and tried to change the subject, "Why don't we finish up here and go grab something to eat? My treat."

She agreed and he took up his pose once more so that she could get a little more work done before they left.

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

"Hi Aunt Cass!" Varian sang as he entered the Lucky Cat Cafe and swung behind the counter to nab a chocolate muffin.

"Oh hi sweetie! How was your day?" Aunt Cass replied as she placed two steaming cups of cappuccino onto the counter. "Hernandez!" She called and a customer walked forward. "You're soy mocha cappuccinos are ready sir, and I added in a splash of honey in one just like you requested."

Varian watched as she finished handing the customer his coffee before answering. "It went fine. I helped Honey Lemon with her painting assignment and we had lunch together. Then I did some work on my own project afterwards."

"How did that go? I know you mentioned having some trouble with, what was it, the turbines?"

Varian gave a dismissive shrug and took a big bite of the muffin he was holding. He didn't feel like getting into any great details about his project with Aunt Cass.  Not the least of which because she didn't know he was from another world.

Aunt Cass however sensed his evasiveness. "Look, I know that you're still disappointed about the fireworks, but today has been kind of slow. Maybe I can close shop up early and all three of us can go watch the official city fireworks down at the park?"

Varian considered her offer but he didn't want her to go out of her way to just to accommodate him. "It's okay, you don't have to do that. I know there'll be a big crowd afterwards and you'll want the shop open for that."

"Crowds, shmowds, there'll be plenty of opportunities to make money later." She dismissed. She walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun; our first family outing together." She gave him an encouraging smile as she waited for his answer.

Before Varian could reply though, Hiro burst through the door.

"Hi Aunt Cass! Bye, Aunt Cass!" He yelled in the same breath as he ran pass. Fred followed close behind, gave them a wave, and bounded up the stairs after him.

"I think, Hiro, might have other plans." Varian said slowly.

Aunt Cass gave a frown.

"Honey Lemon and I got invited to a party tonight, over at the art institute, but she said she couldn't make it. I think her and Hiro and all them have a meeting of their ‘study group’ tonight." He explained.

"On Fourth of July weekend?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, midterms do start next week."

"So, what are your plans? Are you going with the study group or to this, what was it, a painting party?"

Varian shrugged. "I figured I just help you at the cafe. I'm not really in the study group and I don't know anybody at that art school besides Honey Lemon."

Aunt Cass studied him for a moment before answering, "I think you should go."

"Really?"

"Yeah, get out and meet people, make a new friend, try something new. If you make a painting I'll hang it up on the wall." She joked. "Look, I don't want you cooped up here or at school all the time. Go, have fun; be a teenager while you still can."

"You sure? You don't need me to help…"

"I'm sure. Just text me when you get there and don't stay out too late. I would like your help in the morning opening up."

"Okay, then I'll go get ready. It starts at eight."

"Good, and don't forget to wash your face." Aunt Cass teased as she wiped a chocolate smudge from the corner of his mouth with her thumb.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation and tried to pull away, but he flashed her a smile afterwards to show her that he wasn't really upset. Then he turned around and headed upstairs to get ready for the party.

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

Varian stepped off the bus in front of the SFAI campus. It was easy enough to find where the party was held. When Brad had said the whole school would be there, he hadn't been kidding. Varian followed the sound of blaring music and crowds of other students to the fraternity house. Right next to it was also the sorority house. They were each a couple of three story buildings painted with fanciful colors and designs and both had party goers running in and out of them. The crowd was so large that they spilled out onto the front lawns and a DJ was stationed in the middle pumping out loud drumming music for everybody to dance to.

Varian paused on the sidewalk unsure of where to go or what to do. He didn't see a single familiar face in the crowd and the dancers were lost in their own little worlds. It felt out of place to jump right on in with them.

He scanned the scene and debated about just leaving. Maybe it wasn't too late for just him and Aunt Cass to go see the fireworks. Then he noticed a girl standing at the doorway of one of the houses greeting people.

She was a petite woman with curly brown hair and a wide friendly smile. She wore a simple white dress to match said smile and her sing song voice carried itself over the noise of the party.

"Y'all go on in and have fun!" She told a couple as they walked inside. She then spotted Varian as he made his way up the front porch stairs. "Howdy!" She exclaimed. Her voice had a slight accent to it that told Varian that she was from a different province than California; possibly one of the eastern southern states of the country but he was no expert.

"Hi, is this the fraternity house?" He asked.

"No, that's next door. This is the sorority house, we're co-hosting the event. I'm Carol by the way." She held her hand for Varian to shake and he introduced himself.

"Varian."

"Well nice to meet ya, Varian. I don't think I've ever seen you around campus before. What major are you in?"

"Physics, I go to SFIT. Brad invited me."

"Oooh the nerd school. I gotcha. Yeah we got people from all over here tonight. Follow me, I'll show ya around." She gave another winsome smile and Varian followed her inside.

They entered into a large living room adjacent from an open kitchen. On the opposite side of the stairwell Varian could see a den which housed a tv, card table, and billiards. Groups of students clustered around eating, drinking, and playing various games.

"That's the game room," Carol said,"and we got three bathrooms, one on each story." She pointed towards a little hallway that ran past the stairs,"feel free to make yourself at home, just know that the bedrooms are off limits. We're trying to avoid a repeat from last semester."

"What happened last semester?"

"We were hosting a St. Patrick's Day party and some jerks trashed this poor girl's room, broke her vanity set, so no sneaking up there anymore to make out. If ya meet someone, take it to the frat house. Those guys don't care what you do." She rolled her eyes and Varian casted a confused glance at the stairs.

"Who'd be so rude as to break into someone else's bedroom?"

"I know right!" She agreed enthusiastically. "Some folks just ain't got any class."

They made their way to the kitchen. There was a vast spread of food on the dining table and cups, plates, and silverware were sitting on the countertop behind that.

"We got chips and dip, sandwiches, all kinds of snacks. There's ice cream in the freezer if ya want some, and of course the boys have more food over at their place." Carol walked over to an ice chest sitting at the end if the table. "Unfortunately all we got to drink though is coke and beer." She reached into the ice chest pulled out two cans. "I told everybody we should've gotten like some tequila or rum as well, but nobody wanted to spring for it." She gave an over dramatic sigh and then flashed Varian another one of her charming smiles to show that she wasn't fully serious about her disappointment in alcohol choices.

She offered him one of the cans she was holding.

It was the aforementioned beer and Varian hesitated to take it. He remembered his and Gogo's fight last month over his attempts to buy an ale for himself. But the law was just about purchasing alcohol, it didn't say anything about drinking it in your own or in someone else's home. There was no way every single person at this large party was over 21 and clearly everybody else was drinking too. After all, he was a college student same as them. Besides it'd be impolite to turn down a drink from such a nice hostess.

He thanked her and took the drink from her hands. It was a lighter grain than the darker ales he was use to, but there was no mistaking the familiar taste and smell of a good beer. It was comforting in a way. The drink reminded him of dinners with his dad on cold winter nights, gathering at the tavern to hear gossip and stories from from the old farm hands and to escape the midday sun, and of fall festivals and summer parties, like this one, where the whole village would be gathered to celebrate a bountiful harvest or to commemorate some ancient holiday. Perhaps it was an odd thing to feel homesick over, but going without something for two months that was once an ubiquitous part of his life hit him harder then he had realized. He really did not understand Americans' hang ups and silly rules over alcohol.

"So how long have you been going to SFIT?" Carol asked as she popped open her own tab and took a sip.

"This is my first semester. I just moved here from Europe."

"Really!? Where from?" She asked excitedly.

Varian had to give a chuckle, people always seemed so surprised and impressed just because he grew up in a different country. "Uh, if you looked on a map it'd currently say 'Russia' but we've always called Old Corona." He explained. "It's a German speaking country. My dad is the only native Russian speaker I know and he moved there from Umbra."

"Umbra?" She asked confused.

"The Dark Kingdom." Varian explained. "It's a region that's far north of Corona. So far that the days are really short and nothing can grow up there, according to my dad that is. I've never been there."

"So it's like the frozen tundra? I'm guessing Corona is warmer then."

"Warm enough to grow things, but not nearly as hot as it is here in San Fansokyo."

Carol laughed, "You wanna talk about hot? I grew up down in Mississippi."

"Mississippi? That's..that's the state with the really big river in it, right?" Varian asked, trying to recall what little he knew of the place.

This only elected more laughter from the pretty girl. "Yeah, that's the one. This is my first year here, music major, I moved from Tupelo and it's not only hot but muggy. The humidity was murder on my curls. It couldn't stop them frizzing no matter what I tried."

"Oh, well, I think your hair looks nice." Varian complemented.

"Oh, why thank you!" Her whole face lit up and her grin became even wider. She raised her hand to her head to give a light pat to the side of her afro. "I spent all mornin' styling it for the party. Not many people understand how much work goes into keeping hair like this lookin' good. How about you? Do you dye your hair yourself or go to get it done?"

"Oh, uh," Varian's brain stalled as he realized she was talking about his stripe of blue hair. "It's not dyed at all…this? This was a...a..a lab accident. I can't seem to get rid of it." He awkwardly laughed and pushed his bangs to the side before taking another gulp of his beer.

She suppressed a snicker. "A lab accident? What do y'all do over there at that nerd school?"

"Well I'm researching portal technology, but all kinds experiments go on there all the time." He said, happy to steer the conversation away from his mysterious physical anomaly.

"Portals? Like the kind that's suppose to let you travel all over the world or even enter another other worlds?"

"Yup." He gave a proud smile.

"That's sooo cool!" She cheered. "Y'all over there makin' sci-fi a reality and all I'm doing is singing for my supper."

"You're a singer? Like for musicals or opera?" He asked enthusiastically.

"Well I'm in the choral program here at SFAI, so I can technically sing opera, but really I wanna be a pop singer. I'm hoping after college I can move down to L.A. and try my luck."

"Oh I bet you'll do great, and then I can tell people I met a real life pop star."

She giggled, "You haven't even heard me sing yet. How do ya know?"

"Well then let's hear it!" He encouraged and then took another swig of his drink. He was beginning to relax and his more outgoing nature was starting to show. Though whether that was because of the alcohol or the attention he was receiving from the lovely young woman before him, he couldn't tell.

She laughed harder. "Oh no! I can't! There ain't even any music to sing too."

"Then let's make some." He said as he leaned down closer to her with a cheshire grin across his face. She was lot shorter than him and for once it felt good to be the taller person in a conversation. "If ya got a guitar or piano lying around, I could play something for ya to sing too."

She bit her lip in thought, "I think Jake might have one over at the frat house. We could go ask him." She said then she grab Varian's sleeve and they both ran out the door.

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

Varian stood next to the bus stop waiting for the tram to arrive. Carol came along with him to see him off. He had thoroughly enjoyed the party and he hated to leave. He felt more at ease here than he had in weeks and he was really hitting things off with this new girl. But he had promised Aunt Cass and he took promises very seriously.

"It's sweet that you help out your aunt, but it's a shame you have to leave so early. It's only 12:30." Carol said.

"Yeah, I know, but I gotta be up by six to unlock the doors to the cafe. You should come by sometime. I'll make you my patented special."

"What's that?" She asked.

"Shortbread cookies and an espresso."

She giggled, "Did you bake the cookies homemade?"

"Sure did." He gave her a wink which only ignited more laugher between them. They were both lightheaded from drink and merriment and would laugh at just about anything.

"Ooooh you know what!" Carol suddenly exclaimed. "You should come dancing with us tomorrow night. We're going to Monroe's for Jessica's birthday."

"You sure she'd want me around. I mean we don't really know each other.." Varian had met Carol's friends at the party. They all seemed like nice people and they had included him readily into their little group. They played games and music and generally just goofed around all night. But even then he didn't want to intrude.

"Oh it'll be fine. The more the merrier! I'll text her right now and tell her you're comin'."

She pulled out her phone and typed up a message. They heard the ding that indicated that she had gotten her reply.

"She says, 'Sure, and bring a gift.'" Carol rolled her eyes. "She's jokin'. You don't have to get her nothin'."

"Naw, it's her birthday. I'll get her a card at least. If I can get off work."

Just then the bus pulled up.

"Here, let me give you my number real quick." Carol offered and Varian handed her his phone. She entered her name and number into his contacts. "Let me know if you can come and I'll text you the address." She said as she handed him back the device. "It's easy to find and you can just meet us there."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll be there." He waved goodbye and got on the bus to head back home.

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

Varian was almost to the cafe when saw Hiro and Baymax standing in the doorway. Baymax was wobbling back and forth while the smaller boy was trying and failing to push him inside. It didn't help matters that they were still dressed in their armour and Baymax was almost too tight to fit.

"Come ooon…" Hiro spotted him as he came up. "Hey, lend a hand?" He asked.

Varian did and together the started to push.

"Why not enter in another way?" He grunted.

"Ahh...well…" Hiro stumbled but Baymax answered for him.

"Oh Hey, VarAI-ann,...We JUMped OFF a rooooffff..f and into the traaaashhh.." The robot slurred.

"His battery is low." Hiro explained. "It's hard to get him to follow orders when he gets like this."

"You have weird haaair." Baymax lent down to examine Varian's hair stripe more closely.

Varian gave the robot an extra hard push to stop him from commenting further. It was just what was needed. All three of them landed in a heap on the floor. They froze, worried that they may have woken Aunt Cass.

However it was only Mochi that greeted them.

"HAIRy baBY" Baymax exclaimed and got up to chase after the cat.

The boys ran after him. Which caused only more of a commotion.

Hiro casted his eyes about looking for a way to distract the robot while Varian fruitlessly tugged on the machine's arm. That's when Ruddiger popped up beside him, curious as to what was going on. In a panic Hiro grabbed the raccoon and held him out in front of the robot's face.

"Hey look Baymax! A cute trash panda!" Hiro backed away towards the stairs still holding the unfortunate raccoon in midair.

"He's not a trash panda!" Varian protested indignantly but was interrupted by Baymax suddenly changing course.

"Ooooo" he cooed and made off after Hiro and this new object of interest, which sent Varian tumbling to the ground.

Hiro managed to get the robot to follow him up stairs to the second floor with Varian following close behind, casting annoyed glares at both of them.

"Cooome on… juuust a little further...oof!" Ruddiger had had enough and wiggled out of Hiro's grasp and jumped on his head. He tried to grab the raccoon before he got away but that just made the creature struggle harder, knocking off his helmet and pushing him to the ground as it bounded away up the second flight of stairs.

Varian laughed. "Ha! Serves you right for calling him a 'trash panda'."

"Awwww….masked BAby go BYE bye." The robot said in disappointment and then turned to wobbled into the upstairs kitchen instead.

Hiro gave an indistinct whine in frustration and Varian just rolled his eyes before following after the robot once more.

Hiro picked himself up and dragged himself into the kitchen slumping down into a dining room chair in defeat. He rested his head on the table while he wearily eyed Baymax who was now playing with a drinking glass. The robot had amused itself with rolling the glass back and forth and back and forth.

"How did the party go?" Hiro asked.

"Fine." Varian said as he walked over to the sink to pour himself a glass of water.

"Did you paint anything?" Hiro said teasingly.

"It wasn't a painting party."

"Then what kind of party was it?" Hiro asked confused.

Varian shrugged "Just a regular party." He dismissed before taking a long gulp of water.

Hiro watched him with growing suspicion. "Then why did you tell Aunt Cass that it was?"

"Because I didn't tell her. All I said was that it was a party. What's the big deal?"

Hiro frowned and then he sniffed the air as if just now noticing something. "What's that smell?"

"Who ever smelt it dealt it." Varian sneered.

"No! It's not that!" Hiro protested. "No. It smells.. yeasty…like .. like I don't know.." Hiro racked his brain trying to describe what the smell was and where he had come across it before. "Like whenever Aunt Cass tries to make beer battered fish…" he paused and looked at Varian who had stood there frozen and pensive.

"I LIKE Fisshyes.." Baymax slurred but both boys ignored him.

Hiro got up and walked over to Varian, the smell was definitely coming from him. "Were you drinking?" Hiro accused.

"So I had a beer at the party." Varian brushed him off. "Big deal."

Hiro placed a hand on Varian's shoulder to stop him from walking away. "Very big deal. Drinking is illegal."

"Nooo, purchasing alcohol if you're under 21 is illegal." Varian corrected and firmly removed Hiro's hand. "The law doesn't say anything about just drinking it. Besides it's stupid law anyways."

"I don't care how stupid you think it is." Hiro admonished. "There's a reason for it. Drinking's unhealthy and dangerous."

Varian gave a sardonic laugh."Oh and soda isn't? Hiro, you don't get it. I've been drinking beer since I was five. We drink it in Corona like you do coke cola. Besides one beer isn't going to hurt you. It can't even get you drunk." He rolled his eyes, put the glass of water down, and started to leave.

Hiro wasn't ready to give up the argument just yet though. "Oh, so you think that makes it okay to lie to Aunt Cass and then just sneak off to who knows where?"

Varian stopped in his tracks and screwed up his face in anger before rounding on the other teen. "Oh and look who's the one wearing armor and sneaking a robot back into the house in the middle of the night! I told Aunt Cass where I was going and I went there and I came back on time just like she asked. You've been lying to her since before I ever even arrived."

"That's different!"

"Is it!? Is it really, Hiro? How many lectures have I had to sit through just to cover your butt? How many lies have I had to tell to keep your secret? How many times have I had to step in before you got hurt? Yet, I go out to have fun for one night, to just be normal for once, and suddenly I'm the bad guy."

Hiro pouted and angry tears stung his eyes, but he couldn't come up with a response.

"Ssssh… you'll wake the Hairy Baby…" Baymax's voice pierced the silence and the boys turned to find him now cradling Mochi in his arms. "Who'sss a good BAby...wh-who'sss a goooood baBY."

"You're robot's more drunk than I am." Varian said flatly.

Hiro sighed in exasperation, "It's not about that.."

"Then what is it!?" Varian angrily interrupted, "That I'm not a goody two shoes like you? That I'm a jail bird while the rest of y'all are superheroes? That I'm not Mr. Perfect like Tadashi was?"

"N-no.." Hiro backed away in shock, but before he could gather his wits Varian pressed on.

"Look, go ahead and tell Aunt Cass." He said bitterly."See if I care. I'm going to go take a shower." He then turned around on his heel and stormed down the hall to the bathroom.

"Varian…" Hiro ran after him but the other teen just slammed the door in his face.

Hiro angrily pounded on the door but Varian ignored him and Hiro could hear the sound of the faucet being turned on. He turned away defeated as he debated on what to do. Just then the door to Aunt Cass's bedroom started to open.

Hiro looked down at the armor he was still wearing terrified. He then dove into the living room, flung himself on the couch, and wrapped the throw blanket around seconds before Aunt Cass walked in.

She yawned and mussed up her hair "Hiro is that you?" She said sleepily.

"Y-yeah" he squeaked.

She walked over to him and tenderly ran her hand through his hair. He tensed, knowing how close he was to being caught.

"How was your study group?"

"Fine."

She paused and listen to the water running. "Did Varian make it in?"

"Yeah, h-he's taking a shower right now." Hiro sighed. If he was going to tell Aunt Cass what had happened now would be the time, but his mind still raced with worry and indecision.

"Oh, well I hope he had a good time at the party." She yawned again. "I'm glad your both back safe." She kissed Hiro on the forehead. "Don't stay up too late, okay."

"O-okay."

She headed back to bed but stopped long enough to wish Hiro a happy fourth.

"You..you too."

"Next time we should plan ahead for all us to go on a trip or something." She smiled.

"Sounds great." Hiro responded with a strained voice and he only relaxed when heard Aunt Cass close the door to her room. Only to tense up a again as he heard a loud crash come from the kitchen along with cat hissing in anger. When Aunt Cass didn't reamerge he let out a long weary sigh. He still needed to pull Baymax back into his charging case.

However, before he went to do so, Hiro paused long enough to look at a picture of him and Tadashi hanging on the wall.

"What would you do?" He asked the picture in despair. He felt so lost. Tadashi would have known how to reach Varian, Hiro was sure of it. But he wasn't Tadashi.

Another crash came and Hiro shoved aside his worries with a heavy sigh before checking on his robot.

[lowsodiumfreaks67]

My Wedding day

Reader x Misha Collins

A/N : Absolutely nada 

Word count : 3129 

Masterlist 

Finally the day had come, the day you were to be married to your best friend and the love of your life. You woke up around 8:30 am to give yourself a few hours before the home became a mad rush with Bridesmaids, hair and makeup artists and your mom running around trying to get things sorted at the last minute, the night before Misha had stayed at an airbnb close to the venue whilst you stayed at the home you shared with him as you would need more space for everyone and everything. 

You felt it was weird waking up in your bed without his warm body pressed against yours but at least after today you would be waking up next to him for the rest of your life. You made your way to the kitchen to make yourself coffee and try to have some breakfast but that might not happen, nerves were bubbling in your stomach making you feel a little nauseous. You sat yourself on the couch scrolling through your social media and messages of well wishes from family and friends who were unable to make it to the wedding, whilst absent mindedly sipping your coffee you were in your own little world when a knock at the front door brought you back to reality. Dragging yourself up from the comfortable couch you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, Misha would usually have the fire lit so the house was a little colder than usual, swinging the door open you were met with the sight of your best friend standing on the other side grinning like a child and giggling “ Wow you look amazing “ she said still giggling, as you closed the door behind her you caught a look at yourself in the mirror beside the door, your hair was piled on the top of your head in a messy bun from the night before, your face was makeup free and your pajamas consisted of one of Misha’s old t-shirts and a pair of old shorts “ Oh haha very funny just hurry up and get yourself in there “ you laughed sarcastically as you pushed her towards the kitchen to make more coffee before you both made your way back to the couch to sit and chat whilst you waited for everyone else to arrive. 

It was about 30 minutes later when another knock at the door came which signaled the arrival of the rest of the bridesmaids and your mom, you all sat around chatting and getting excited about the day ahead whilst waiting for hair and makeup to arrive. You glanced at the clock and noticed you still had another 45 minutes before everyone else would be arriving so you took the opportunity to excuse yourself from the living room to get a shower and put some normal clothes on. 

Once in the bathroom you glanced at your phone to check the time again, you found yourself staring and smiling at your background which was a photo you had taken on the night he proposed, it was a selfie of the both of you sat in Baby with Misha in his Castiel costume, it had been a long day on set so you decided to bring Misha and the crew some dinner to keep their spirits up, during a small break in filming Misha took you to the car and that’s where he proposed, at first you thought he was just tired and thankful for you bringing food but when you looked at him properly and saw the look in his eyes and knew he was serious, you hadn’t noticed it at first when you took the photo but when you looked back at it and saw the love and admiration in Misha's eyes as he looked at you instead of the camera you knew you had found your soulmate and couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

A small tear rolled down your cheek as you stared at the photo remembering that night as if it were yesterday, you quickly unlocked your phone and opened up your messages to Misha “ Good morning husband ( feels a bit weird saying that ) i love you so much and i cannot wait to see you later, i'll be the one in white :) xx “ you hit send and opened up your favorite spotify playlist, turning the volume up high turned on the shower, stripped off your pajamas and jumped under the steamy hot water letting it run over your muscles loosening them up, you even noticed your nerves from earlier had lessened a little. You showered as quickly as you could and wrapped yourself in one of the fluffy towels then made your way to your bedroom to get dressed into the gray sweatpants and tank top your mom had bought for everyone with their names and roles on the back. Reentering the living room you saw the hair and makeup artists and photographer and videographer had all arrived, you gave them all quick hugs before taking your place to start preparing for the best day of your life. 

Laughter and chatter filled the air as everyone moved around each other efficiently getting everything done, the bridesmaids has simple neutral makeup with their hair in a simple half up-do and curled loosely with simple flowers threaded through it, your own makeup was also simple with slight hints of gold and red, your hair was also in a half up-do with flowers threaded through it, curls rested lightly on your shoulders. 

Your bridesmaids got finished up with hair and makeup before heading into the spare room where their dresses were hung to get dressed, the dresses were all different shapes and colors but still somehow fit and looked great together. 

Whilst they got ready you got finished up with hair and makeup before heading towards your room to get dressed, you hadn’t noticed your mom disappear but when you entered the room you saw your mom stood in front of the window where you dress hung on the curtain pole, when she heard you enter she turned to you with tears in her eyes, making her way towards you she wrapped you in a gentle hug as she sobbed quietly before she pulled herself from you and made her way back to finish getting herself ready, turning back towards the window you saw your dress hanging there, it wasn’t overly expensive, it wasn’t covered in diamonds and glitter and it didn’t show too much of your body but it was a beautiful gown that you knew Misha would love. 

In the time you had been stood staring at your dress your mom had finished her hair and makeup and was now standing at the door again, she let out a little cough to make her presence known, walking over to the window you grabbed the dress before pulling it off its hanger “ Don't just stand there and cry, come over here and help me get this on “ it wasn't a complicated dress to get on but you definitely couldn't do it by yourself, it was a weird feeling putting on a wedding dress and actually getting married, so many adventures and memories were coming your way and you couldn't believe it was Misha you were going to be sharing them with. You caught yourself sniffling a little as your mom fastened the last button on your back, you turned slowly to look at her as she stood back and handed you your bouquet, she stood for a moment just staring, taking in every inch of you, with a soft sigh she smiles gently and turned to leave the room once more leaving you stood there by yourself in front of a mirror. Taking a quick look at yourself you flattened out your dress, took a deep breath and made your way to the living room where everyone was standing waiting for you. 

You stopped for a second before stepping through the doorway, you were met with a few gasps and the sound of the photographer snapping photos of everyone’s reaction, you'd kept your dress a secret from everyone, you hadn't even taken anyone with you when you went dress shopping, everyone came over and gave you quick tight hugs before heading out to the cars which had now arrived and were waiting outside. 

It didn’t take long to get to the venue you had chosen, it was an old barn that was converted by a woman and her family a few years prior. You got out of the car as gracefully as i could whilst trying not to hit your head and not trip on your dress, standing straight you checked your dress and flattened out any pieces that had gotten crumpled during the car ride, you looked over at the other car to see Misha’s groomsmen greeting your bridesmaids and your mom and getting themselves into position to make their way through the building and out onto the grass behind where the ceremony was to take place, watching them all walk away you took a second to take another look at yourself, as you did you heard footsteps coming towards you, looking up you saw Jared and Jensen walking towards you with massive smiles on their faces, they were both wearing matching navy blue suits with matching waist coats, white shirts, red ties, brown belts and brown shoes.

Once they were right in front of you, you noticed Jared had a few tears in his eyes smiling softly at him you giggled and handed him the tissue your mom had given you on the ride over “ Don’t you dare cry because if you do then I will too and this makeup took way too long to ruin it before I've even seen him “ looking over to Jensen you saw he was looking at you as a father would on his daughter's wedding day “ You ready for this kiddo ? “ he whispered as he and Jared moved to your sides, Jared on your left and Jensen on your right “ Let’s get this adventure started “ you whispered back as a massive smile spread across your face, walking through the building and out onto the grass with the boys on your arms you could see Misha standing there with his back to you, that's when you felt tears start to prickle in your eyes. 

Taking yet another deep breath to calm yourself you looked to your right to see Jensen smiling down at you then looked to you left to see Jared doing the exact same thing, you squeezed their arms tightly against you when you heard the music begin which was your cue to begin walking, you took a few more steps before stopping at the end of the aisle, the guests who were made up of family, friends and the majority of the Supernatural cast and crew, were signaled to stand, they all turned around to get a look at you, but when everyone turned around so did Misha and that's when your heart skipped a beat, you held onto the boys a little tighter as your legs became weak at the sight in front of you, Misha's suit was similar to the boys but he wasn't wearing a waist coat or a tie, the suit fit him perfectly, his facial hair was neatly trimmed, his hair was styled but still a little messy, he looked absolutely breathtaking. 

After what felt like a lifetime you finally got to Misha’s side, Jared gave you a kiss on the cheek before he took his place behind Misha and Jensen took his place in front of you both, you handed your bouquet to one of your bridesmaids and turned to face Misha again, you saw that he had tears in his eyes as he looked you up and down with so much love in his eyes “ I’ve already warned Jared about this, if you cry then i’ll cry and I don’t want that to ruin my makeup cause we’ve got photos to take later on “ Misha laughed softly as he pulled a tissue from his pocket and wiped his eyes quickly, you took his hands in yours and gave them a quick squeeze, you kept a hold of his left hand as you turned to Jensen who was officiating the wedding. 

The ceremony was going a little too quickly for your liking, you wanted this feeling to last forever, before long it was time for the vows, when you first got engaged you had both decided that you would both write your own vows for each other, Misha went first.

“ I promise to always remember that you are indeed human. That you may sometimes make questionable decisions, maybe even some decisions I won’t agree with, now you and I both know how indecisive I can be at times. I simply don’t like to make decisions. But if there is one decision in my life that I know is the right one, it’s to spend the rest of my life with you. You are known for dropping whatever it is you’re doing and running to the aid of those who call upon you, what I love about you is I know that you do these things because you care so deeply about those who are close to you and are genuinely one of the most thoughtful and considerate people I have ever known. Today, I promise to show that same care and consideration for you for the rest of my life. Right now, it’s the easiest thing in the world to do because I honestly love you so much and want nothing but your happiness, but even when things are difficult and it gets hard to do and our love gets more comfortable, complacent and timeworn, I will always show that same care and consideration for you. There is an infinite number of things I love about you. I love your thoughtfulness and your ability to keep me grounded. I love your loyalty to me and our relationship. I love the way you weirdly get excited when I face time you from set and I love how when you laugh really hard, your one eye starts to crinkle up. I promise to be patient with you. I never imagined this day would come, but now that we are here I couldn't have imagined choosing anyone else but you to go through life's journey with “ his hands held yours tightly as he spoke in a way it felt like you were the only person present hearing these wonderful words. 

Jensen turned to you smiling “ Y/n now would you like to read what you’ve written for Misha “ he handed you the piece of paper you had given him the day before as you had no pockets and you didn’t want to forget them, unfolding the piece of paper you took a deep breath to calm yourself and began to read aloud.

“ Alright, I don't know how to top those beautiful words and I apologize in advance for any mistakes I may make here, I did have my vows written a while ago but me being me, I lost them and had to rewrite them a few days ago and honestly I don’t mean to blow my own trumpet but I think these ones are way better than the old ones and I'm pretty proud of myself “ the guests giggled as you continued “ Misha Collins, Dmitri Krushnic, where do I start with you, from the very beginning our relationship has been one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, when you invited me on our first date I honestly didn’t think we would get along but I couldn't have been more wrong and we got on like a house on fire, it was right at that moment I knew that we were going to be together forever, I love you because you are happy, adventurous and strong both physically and mentally, even when I've lost all hope you still manage to find the strength to keep us both going, being with you has made me feel things i've never felt before and made me feel things I never thought I'd feel again, I love you because you love your family as fiercely as I love mine and I love that you love my family as much as I love yours, I can never thank you and the supernatural family enough for welcoming me in with such open and loving arms, you are my best friend, well my best friend besides her “ you gesture behind you to your best friend, everyone laughs as you continue reading “ I am beyond happy that you're on my team forever and always, you make me happier than I could have ever thought possible, you make me feel more loved than I ever imagined, you make me unbelievably proud with everything you do and I promise that I will do everything in my power to make you proud of me as your wife, I vow to listen to you and learn from you, I vow to laugh with you and cry with you, I vow to value our differences just as much as our common ground, I vow to put all my effort into strengthening our marriage and giving you the best version of myself, Misha, on good days and bad days, rain or shine, sickness and health, I'll love you forever and always until the end of time, I am so lucky and blessed to be able to call you my partner, friend, husband and soulmate “ as you finished you looked around to see tears in the eyes of a few guests, looking back to Misha you saw tears rolling down his cheeks as he smiled widely at you. 

After exchanging rings, yours was a simple silver band with a line of diamonds going around it, Misha's ring was a simple thick silver band, you were so caught up staring at your hands you hadn't noticed Jensen beginning to talk again, a small squeeze from Misha's hands brought you back to reality “ It is with the greatest honor that I now pronounce this beautiful couple husband and wife “ the guest clapped and cheered “ You may now kiss the bride “ he whispered finally, Misha's warm hands cupped your face, his lips met yours in a kiss so full of love and tenderness, when he pulled away and turned both of you towards the guests you felt him grab your hand and raise it in the air in celebration as everyone clapped, grabbing your flowers from your bridesmaid you made your way down the aisle and into the rest of your life with the your very own prince charming.

[the-starsabove-you]

The Stars Above You - Christmas Chapter

Christmas Chapter- Winter Lovers.  A/N: Merry Christmas! A bonus chapter for this story! Enjoy!  Pairings: Jamie Benn x OFC. Hints of Tyler Seguin x OFC  Rose groaned when she heard the knocking on her door. The boys and her were in New York to face to Islanders, it was two days before Christmas. It would be their final game before everyone would be going home to be with their families for the holidays. Rose got out of bed and opened the door to see it was Klingberg, she could tell he was up to something with that grin. She looked at the clock and saw it was still morning “I swear to god John, if you intend on waking me up just to go outside and have a snowball fight, I will literally make the biggest snowball and throw it at you.” She warned and Klingberg who raised his hands in defense “I’m not planning on anything… Yet. I’m just being sent to wake you up and make sure you dress warm” He said and Rose looked confused “Just get dress, I have to make sure you get to the location in like an hour” Klingberg said and Rose gave him a look “Now I feel like you’re kidnapping me to kill me” “I do wanna kill you sometimes, mostly because you steal some of my snacks on the plane when I’m not looking. But again, my revenge will happen another day” He said as he walked inside the room “Come on Rosebud!” “You know I hate when you call me that” She muttered as she was choosing between a black sweater and a gray one “Black one, looks nicer” He said and she nodded and got some black jeans and black boots and got them on. Klingberg nodded in approval when she was ready “Beautiful, Stunning, would cry right now if it wasn’t cold outside” He said and she slapped his arm and he pretended he was hurt “Ow, I can’t play no more!” “Alright, let’s go drama queen.” She said as they were walking out of the room and she got to the rental car and Klingberg went to the passenger seat and she glared at him “Well?” “Oh yeah, sorry!” Klingberg grabbed his phone and got the location and she drove them. They made it to a nice building in New York that had a penthouse suite at the top and she looked at him “Why are you bringing me here?” “Shhh, no more questions! Let’s go!” They made it into the elevator and she nodded in approval of how the inside looked so beautiful. It wasn’t until the door opened and she was in shock at the scene in front of her The Dallas Stars were wearing ugly christmas sweaters with santa hats. They all cheered when they saw Rose. “You made it!” Esa said as he rushed towards her and hugged her. Rose chuckled and hugged him tightly before she saw the boys gathering around her and she hugged each of them. It was Jamie who held on to her waist and she hugged him “This is so beautiful!” She said when she saw there was a christmas tree and everything was decked out with christmas stuff. “Merry Christmas Flower” Jamie whispered to her and she smiled as she wrapped her arms around his waist “You did this didn’t you?” “I know you’re alone for Christmas.. A majority of us go home to visit family while the rest stay in Dallas. So we all agreed that we should have a Christmas party with all of us.. Cause we’re family.. And we don’t leave any family behind” Rose grinned and she kissed his cheek and he blushed. Jordie came to them with some drinks “Come on! We gotta celebrate before we beat the Islanders tonight!” Everyone was singing and dancing. Jamie was by Rose’s side the whole time. Spezza and Rose were talking about Spezza’s kids and Rose was literally squealing with the cute pictures he was showing her. Jamie excused himself to go talk to Esa, Dickie and Klingberg. Rose looked outside and saw it was lightly snowing. She then saw there was a figure standing outside in the balcony and without thinking, she walked towards the door and opened it, and she was greeted by the chilly air. Tyler was standing out at the balcony, in awe of the snow as he was looking at the view of the city. Rose watched him for a moment before speaking “Didn’t see you come in” She said and he nodded “Snuck in about an hour ago.” He said and she walked until they were standing side by side and she looked at the view “Love the snow?” She asked and he nodded “You don’t get much of this in Dallas.. I always love looking at the snow. It’s peaceful” He commented and she nodded in agreement “It’s just so relaxing.. Can distract you from some stressful things” She said and Tyler was quiet for a moment. Rose and Tyler were enjoying the snow, they were silent. It wasn’t until Rose spoke “Are you going home for the holidays?” She asked and he nodded “Yeah, gonna be with my parents and sisters. I haven’t seen them in a while” He said and he looked at her “What about you?” “I’m gonna be home, watching some cheesy Christmas movies and drinking some coffee.” She said and Tyler looked at her “You don’t have a family to go home to?” Rose flinched at his bluntness but she nodded “My mother and I don’t have the best relationship. So I’ll be in Dallas” Tyler was silent for a moment before nodding “I think you’ll be alright” He said and she nodded “Yeah, me too” Tyler and Rose looked at each other for a couple of moments and it was just.. Comforting. Tyler coughed before looking at the city view once again “I have to go, I promised I would be meeting someone before the game” He said and she snapped out of her thoughts and nodded “Yeah, I’ll see you at the arena” Tyler excused himself and left the balcony. Rose soon went back inside and saw Tyler was indeed gone. Jamie saw her and he called her over and he used his Captain-Voice “Guys, come here!” The boys suddenly huddled around Rose who was very confused in the moment before Jamie took out a small present and he handed it to Rose “It’s something from all of us, we thought it would be something for you to remember all of us by” He said and she carefully unwrapped the present and it was a small box and she opened it and she smiled softly. It was a chain with a golden star. On the golden star there were emeralds on it. She gasped softly as she looked at it and she looked at the boys with tears in her eyes “You guys.. No one has ever done this for me before” She whispered The guys had smile on their faces and a couple of them started to hug her. Jamie had a smile on his face “Here, let me put it on for you” He said and she turned around and Jamie took the necklace and placed it around her neck. She turned around and Jamie had the biggest smile on his face “Beautiful” Rose blushed and the boys cheered and she hugged each of them. It wasn’t until Spezza came to her and he nudged her “If you want.. You can spend Christmas with my family and I. The Mrs. would love to have you and the girls would love to meet you” Rose smiled remembering about Spezza’s wife and how lovely she was when they had met. She nodded “I would love that.. Thank you so much” She said as she hugged Spezza who grinned “You’re family.. I’m not going to let you spend the holidays by yourself” The party went on smoothly. There were lots of laughs including Klingberg singing the top hits of Christmas songs at the top of his lungs. The game went really well. Tyler and Jamie each got a goal and they defeated the Islanders. The boys were exiting the Locker room and Rose nudged Jordie and Jamie “Good game boys, you did awesome!” “Thanks to our star over here” Jordie said who patted Jamie’s shoulder who gave him a look. Jamie looked at Rose “A couple of us are going to see the Tree at Rockefeller. The others are going to sleep a bit before we board the jet. Do you wanna go?” He asked and Rose’s eyes lit up “I’ve always wanted to go!” “Great, let’s go” He said and he grabbed her hand and they rushed out of the Barclays Center and to the snowy night. Rose’s eyes lit up when they were in front of the tree. Jamie was grinning from ear to ear. Klingberg and Jordie were behind them while Dickie was taking pictures. “It’s so beautiful” She whispered and Jamie looked at her “It is.. You’re beautiful too.” He said and she narrowed her eyes playfully at him “Thanks for the cheesy line” She said and he grinned “Any time” They were watching the people ice skate below and the music was playing. Rose looked at Jamie “Thank you.. For all of us. This is something I won’t ever forget” She said and Jamie kissed her forehead “I wanna make sure that you know that you have a good support system here.. That you have people who care for you” Rose smiled and she wrapped her arms around his neck and Jamie wrapped his arms around her waist as he brought her in closer and they watched the tree. It was such a sweet moment and Rose was so grateful for Jamie and the boys. They were truly the best part of her life and they were the source of happiness. It didn’t make her job feel like a job.. She was taking pictures and videos of her family playing on the ice. Rose suddenly felt a snowball thrown at her and it hit her on the shoulder and she shrieked. She turned around to see Klingberg smiling “I told you, I have to get you” Jamie laughed and Rose gave him a look “Why you!” Rose untangled herself from Jamie and was making a snowball. Klingberg started to run but Rose was running after him and she got him in the back. They were both laughing and Jamie looked at them in amusement.  Jamie laughed as he joined Rose, Jordie and Dickie in a snowball fight. It was a perfect way to end the amazing day

[vivxwrites]

Mystery Girl

*not my gif*

Word Count: 1881

Summary: You and Carol have a secret relationship and the team wants to know who you’re dating.

Warnings: Some kissing, I think that’s it. Mistakes??

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

A/N: This was requested by @im-so-done-42 and I hope you love it as much as I do. I had loads of fun writing it, sorry for the wait by the way :))

You hummed to yourself as you flipped the pancake in the skillet. Your thoughts trailed back to last night and a happy grin etched itself onto your face. As soon as everyone had gone to bed your girlfriend Carol snuck into your bedroom and the two of you spent the night cuddled up under your fluffy comforter. The two of you have been dating for three months now but you both agreed on keeping the relationship a secret, at least until you were sure that it would be a long-term thing.

“(Y/N)? Hello, Earth to (Y/N)!” You snapped out of your haze and found Clint waving a hand in front of your face.

“Shit.” You cursed when you saw that you had completely zoned out and burnt your pancakes. Not to mention that practically the whole team had made their way down to the kitchen and were staring at you. “Oh hey guys,” you greeted sheepishly.

“You’re being extra spacey today.” Tony narrowed his eyes at you and you did your best not to squirm under his gaze.

“No I’m not, I’m always this spacey.” You prayed that Tony hadn’t noticed your voice’s higher pitch and did your best to remain stoic under his watchful eye.

“Hey, keep those pancakes comin’, (Y/LN). You’ve still got the rest of us to feed,” Sam hollered from the table. While you would normally be annoyed at his words, this time you cheered internally for the change in subject and turned to continue making pancakes.

“I’m on to you (Y/N), and don’t you forget it.” Tony’s words made your whole body tense up. You snuck a glance at Carol and you saw her swallow nervously once she met your eyes. The silent conversation between the two of you would have gone completely unnoticed if it weren’t for one highly trained assassin.

Breakfast went down as it normally did after the interrogation, Sam and Bucky bickering and fighting over food while Clint scarfed down both of their portions. The look of horror in both of their eyes never got old.

Round two of Tony’s scrutiny happened when you were minding your own business and reading a book. Ok, maybe you weren’t reading a book, but there was a book in front of you. Instead your mind had drifted off to Carol and how beautiful she was. How her smile lit up the whole room and how her eyes always showed so much emotion. You were in the middle of replaying the sound of Carol’s laugh throughout your head when all of a sudden Tony crawled out from under the couch with a cry of “aha!”

You screamed and nearly tumbled off of the couch at his appearance. You clutched your chest in fear and scolded him, “What the hell is wrong with you!”

He hopped to his feet and raced around the common room. He pointed to you and stated, “You, my dear, have a crush.”

“What? Pfft I don’t have a crush.” You did your best to play it off but he saw right through you.

He gave you an incredulous look and continued his skipping around the various couches. This time he sang out the words, “(Y/N) has a crush! (Y/N) has a crush!”

You felt yourself panicking when Tony kept chanting those words over and over again, not wanting any other nosy avengers to start pestering you alongside him. “Shh, shut up Tony!”

“Nuh uh! Not unless you tell me who.” He practically giggled in glee as he kept frolicking all about. You swear that you even saw him clap his hands together like a seal.

You heard the footsteps of a few other avengers drawing nearer. Not wanting to see who they were, you hid your face in a pillow and groaned at Tony’s antics.

“Hey guys! Did you know that (Y/N) has a crush,” he practically screamed those words to the group and you felt yourself blush furiously. ‘At least he doesn’t know the truth,’ you thought.

“Alright Tony, leave the poor girl alone.” You sighed in relief at Natasha’s words, she was always a mediator.

Tony grumbled out a “party pooper” and begrudgingly shuffled away. You pulled your face out of the pillow and met Natasha’s gaze. She gave you a small smile and a pat on your back before she too left the room.

You were peacefully watching a movie with the majority of the team when Tony struck again. He smiled innocently and took a seat on the couch next to you, but you knew his intentions were more than likely nefarious. He sat and watched the movie for a good twenty minutes before he made his move. “(Y/N) has a crush.” He covered his words up with a cough and an apologetic smile. You had heard him loud and clear and sent him a wicked glare. He fought a smirk and remained silent for another ten minutes before he repeated his words. A few others glanced at him this time, to which he responded with, “Sorry team, I’ve got a little bug in my throat.” He muttered under his breath, “A love bug.”

The night continued with Tony’s nonsense and you felt your resolve crumbling all throughout the movie. It only took two more times for you to finally snap. “God dammit Stark! I don’t have a crush, ok? I’m dating someone. Are you happy now?”

Everyone fell silent at your exclamation. You felt several pairs of eyes on you and tears of embarrassment welled up in your eyes. You threw yourself off of the couch and fled to your bedroom.

Back in the common room everyone sat in tense, uncomfortable silence. Carol wanted to race after you but she feared that it would look too suspicious. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and tried to keep her face from showing her concern. Tony sighed and made to move off his couch, “I didn’t mean to hurt the poor kid. Let me go after her.”

“Oh no you don’t Stark, you’ve done enough.” Natasha sent Tony a glare that made him stay put.

Carol felt her heart break a little when she realized that no one else seemed interested in making sure you were ok. She faked a yawn and stretched her arms above her head. “Well I’m headed to bed. Goodnight.” Various chimes of “goodnight” followed Carol’s statement and she walked off towards her room. When she made it far enough she changed course and made a beeline for your room instead.

She knocked softly on the door to alert you to her presence and slowly pushed it ajar. You were sitting on your bed with tear-stained cheeks when Carol rushed forward to sweep you into her arms. She whispered words of comfort and you clung to her body, grateful for its warmth.

“I’m sorry that Tony was bugging you all day, baby. I would’ve blasted him if I could.”

You let out a watery chuckle at her words. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.” She smiled softly at your statement.

Carol reached over to you and tucked your hair behind your ear. She cupped your cheek with one hand and your body leaned into her on its own accord. “That’s because I hate seeing your smiley face upset.” She placed a light kiss on your temple and you tucked your head under her chin. You snuggled further into her body and the two of you drifted off to sleep.

When you woke you were met with the sight of Carol’s infectious grin. You grumbled out, “How are you so happy in the morning?”

“It’s because I woke up next to you.” She finished her statement with a boop to your nose and you blushed heavily.

You gave her a happy grin, “ Cheesehead.” You saw the mischievous glint that showed up in her eyes but you were too late.

Before you could process what was happening Carol had straddled your hips and was gazing down at you. “You wanna take that back, babe?”

You shook your head and all of a sudden she started tickling you all over. You squealed in surprise and tried to wriggle away but she had you trapped under her weight. “Wait-Carol I take it back. I take it back!” You could barely talk due to the giggles that erupted from your throat.

Carol finally took mercy on you and flopped to the other side of the bed. She grinned at you as you attempted to catch your breath and once you did you grinned back. “I think I love you.” You panicked, that was definitely not supposed to come out.

Carol blinked at you in response, she was stunned speechless. You immediately thought the worst and babbled out an apology, “Oh god, I said that too soon didn’t I? It’s fine, just pretend you didn’t hear me because I certai-“ Carol cut you off with a single finger to your lips and your eyes widened in response.

“(Y/N). I think I love you too.” She spoke quickly and quietly and if you hadn’t been listening intently you would have missed it altogether.

“That’s great! You know, because I said I think I love you and you just said you think you love me, it all works out.” You blushed when you caught yourself rambling again. “So, should we tell the others? They already know I’m dating someone.”

“Oh don’t worry about the others, babe.” The glint in her eyes had returned, “You just leave them to me.”

You were sitting at the kitchen island picking at your cereal when you heard someone sit next to you. “So who’s the mystery guy?”

Clint, of course it was Clint. You put on a look of confusion, “Excuse me?”

“You know, the guy you’re dating? You did admit to it last night.”

“Yeah (Y/N), who is this mystery guy? Do we know him?” Great, now Sam was pestering you too.

You simply shrugged at their questions and went back to eating your cereal. You ignored the curious expressions that were on you and instead stared at your blurry reflection in the spoon.

When Tony showed up in the kitchen you avoided his eyes completely. You could feel him staring at you and you kept going about your business, just as you had done before.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned in the direction of it. When you saw that it was Carol you smiled, “Oh hey Carol, what’s u-“ Before you could finish talking she smashed her lips into yours. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of her heated kiss and you melted right into it.

Carol pulled away with a loud pop and she smirked at the other occupants in the room. You could only let out a quiet, “Oh wow,” before the room boomed with multiple voices at the same time.

“What?!” That one was Sam.

“Girl, mystery girl.” There was Clint’s voice.

“I didn’t see that coming.” Pietro and Wanda at the same time, that was pretty cool to hear.

Tony didn’t even say anything, just gaped in shock.

Last but not least, Natasha’s voice echoed around the room, “I knew it.”

A/N: My laptop still hates me so please forgive anything that looks weird or any mistakes, I will fix them eventually. I hope you liked the fic!! Let me know if you did and also feel free to check out my other stuff. Oh and send in some requests, I’ll write almost anything. Thanks, Viv :)

[jade-doodles-questionmark]

With all the same names that appear across generations (i.e. Alexander, Elizabeth, Angelica, Phillip, etc.) in the Hamilton & Schuyler family, you’d be wondering how there still isn’t a Hamilton x A Hundred Years of Solitude crossover yet

Yknow, just a thought

[msjr0119]

Forgive me

Part 5 - Run! Run away and never return.

A mini series, includes suicide and abuse.

Based on true events but using TRR characters who are owned by Pixelberry.

Tags:

@annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @beardedoafdonutwagon @cordonianroyalty

*****

Liam and Riley had checked on Lucas, he was fast asleep- Riley placed a kiss on his forehead and thanked the nanny for looking after him. After agreeing to stay with Liam, he had contacted Bastien to arrange a cot to be moved into his quarters.

Walking back into the ballroom holding hands, Liam gave Riley a kiss on the cheek. I’ll see you shortly- he whispered, a blush creeped up on her cheek. Maxwell and Drake walked up to Riley- the commoner passed her a drink.

“I’ve got you a vodka, I don’t know if you like it. But it looks like you need an energy boost. Or you could have a whiskey- that also boosts energy.” Riley looked bewildered at him, wondering if he was trying to get her drunk.

“Don’t look at me like that. Your perfect hair has become a bit messy.” Maxwell burst out laughing.

“It was windy outside Drake.” She lied, not knowing what they had heard.

“Oh Princess, didn’t Leo teach you not to lie. We heard you and the Prince.”

“Fuck you Drake.”

“Sorry baby, but I’m not your type. I’m not a Prince remember.” He winked at her, before looking at Liam. Following his gaze, Liam was caught up in a conversation with Penelope- but he kept looking at Riley.

“I think it’s time for a drinking game. I’ll gather everyone together.”

******

“So I think we should play ‘never have I ever’ or spin the bottle.” Maxwell decided. Everyone looked concerned at how excited he was. Liam joined the group- he didn’t want to be over affectionate with Riley in front of Olivia, Kiara, Penelope and Hana.

“Drake and Riley- the bottle has landed on you two.” Both their eyes widened, both giving each other the same look- reassurance of needing to escape this situation.

“Beaumont I never confirmed that I was playing. I’m not kissing her.” He looked at Liam, he didn’t want to betray his friend even if it was a game.

“Let’s play another game Max.” Riley smiled at Drake and Liam trying to avoid the situation.

“No. A rule is a rule. I’ve had to kiss Olivia. Well I had to force it.”

“Yes and we are never talking about it again! Go on Walker just kiss her and get it over and done with then we can play a decent game.” Liam shook his head, he knew he could trust Drake and after all it was only a game. Just do it, then it’ll shut Maxwell and Liv up- Liam whispered to his best friend.

Drake pulled Riley towards him, cupping her cheeks- he gave her a quick soft kiss. Before Madeleine encouraged them to do it more than a quick peck. Breaking the kiss, Riley felt as if she had cheated on Liam- even though they technically weren’t in a relationship. She didn’t feel anything with the kiss, he wasn’t Liam. Drake excused himself from the group to get a round of drinks. Needing to think of something else, that kiss was one of the best he had- but he wouldn’t betray his friend who had helped him throughout his life.

Playing ‘Never have I ever’ made everyone become intoxicated very quickly. It was Penelope’s turn, she was already slurring- so the group all dread what sort of question she would provide them with.

“Never... have ...I ever had a tattoo.” Maxwell and Riley were the only ones to not take a shot- Maxwell looked at Riley and gave her a high five.

“Eurgh, why would you damage your body? Bet you’ve got something really American.” Madeleine looked disgusted at the pair. Riley showed a picture of her tattoo on her phone to Madeleine who shook her head. Her tattoo was under her left breast on her rib cage - depending what type of bra she wore, it was discreetly hidden.

“And what the hell is that?”

“Greek for ‘forever in our hearts’. Greek because Leo always spoke it, the Apple to represent both of his homes.” Liam was shocked that he didn’t see it before- although they were too busy to even appreciate each other’s bodies, he didn’t mind her having a tattoo. Deep down he thought it was sweet and sentimental.

“I’ve got a hippo on my chest. Pretty random I know.” Max said enthusiastically to Riley, who laughed at him. Not taking him serious to begin with he explained the reasoning behind his sentimental tattoo- she soon felt guilty for her original reaction.

*****

The ball had ended, everyone went their separate ways. Liam picked Lucas up from the nanny, holding him tightly- he had hoped that Leo would approve of him looking after them. He wanted to be selfish and convince them to stay in Cordonia - maybe he could travel to New York if not, there was no social season now. So until his father passed away he didn’t have as many responsibilities. Walking into his quarters, he placed Lucas in the cot- wrapping him up tightly ensuring he was warm enough.

Knocking on the bathroom door, he wanted to make sure that Riley was okay and not too drunk.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, as he came behind her, placing his arms around her waist.

“Fine. A few shots is nothing compared to what we do in New York.” She laughed, thinking about the good times with Leo- her laugh soon turned into a sigh.

“Heh. So tomorrow, I’ve organised a memorial for Leo. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. I’ve had three months to grieve. You all need to grieve too, and do something in memory of him.”

“Talking about a memory. Where’s this tattoo? I seemed to have not seen it.” He said seductively, holding her tightly. Removing her bra, he saw it- it was an simple tattoo but it was so appropriate. Leading her to his bed, they both laid down- pulling her towards him, he spooned her affectionately. It was against protocol to share a bed until a couple was officially married- but Liam didn’t care. A bit of Leo was rubbing off onto him. Riley fell asleep immediately, Liam however couldn’t sleep. Natural instinct, made him constantly check on Lucas. Every time, he returned to bed- he kissed Riley. Wondering what type of Queen she would be- he was falling hard and quick. Shaking his head, he needed to shake these thoughts away and attempt to gain some sleep. Tomorrow was an important day-he was hoping that the kings guards had safely escorted the surprise guests. Maxwell and Drake had informed him that Drake had insisted for the people to come, but Riley said they couldn’t due to work commitments. Liam was the future King, and knew these people needed to be here earlier than expected. They were a part of Leo’s life. If Leo’s spirit was still around, he could potentially haunt Liam for not including them.

*****

The morning after, Riley woke up in a daze. Liam wasn’t next to her, getting up- she put some baggy clothes on before checking on Lucas. The young Prince was still asleep. Checking through her clothes, she thought about what she could wear for Leo’s memorial. Not really preparing to stay in Cordonia long term- she didn’t pack for occasions such as this.

“What are you doing?” Turning around recognising his voice, her heart fluttered. Liam was stood in front of her wearing regal clothing. He looked extremely handsome- she couldn’t stop gawking at him. Coughing she tried to compose herself.

“Erm, I didn’t prepare for this type of event. I should have known that you would have wanted to do a memorial service. I just didn’t think. I don’t know what I’m going to wear.”

“Well, that problem has been sorted. I’ve had some business to attend. On my way back, I went to the boutique to pick you up a dress. I hope you don’t mind.” Standing up, he gave her the dress- insisting that she tried it on.

“Thank you so much, Liam. Remind me next time to pack more of a variety of clothes.” Next time- Liam thought. He didn’t want to read too much into those words. He didn’t want to feel disappointed if she never returned to Cordonia.

“No need to thank me Riley. You’re part of the royal family. Lucas is a prince, the heir. So I’m going to look after you both whilst you’re visiting.” Part of the royal family- would they think that if Lucas didn’t exist? I’m now invested. Reality had finally sunk in, her drunken one night stand with her fake husband had resulted in an heir. The first born child of the two crown princes.

Nodding, she entered the bathroom to get ready for the memorial. Coming out shortly after, Liam gulped- even a simple black dress made her look like a goddess.

“What do you think?” Twirling around, she wasn’t sure about the dress- was it too much? Leo was outgoing and would have most likely wanted them dressed in vibrant colours.

“You look more beautiful every second that goes by.” Walking towards her, not leaving a gap- he held her tight kissing her on the forehead. It had become his new hobby. Once she returned to New York, he would begin to feel empty and lonely. Lucas woke up shortly after, they had breakfast together before making their way down to the courtyard. Riley carried Lucas, the majority of nobles gasped as it was their first glimpse of the young prince. Walking to the seats at the front of the courtyard- Riley’s face lit up.

“You brought them here? How?”

“Because they needed to be here Riley. They were a big part of Leo’s life.”

“But... they had work...”

“No buts. I failed Leo. I need to make amends. With all of you.” Pulling him in for a hug, she thanked him for not only being there for her and Lucas but for also thinking about what Leo would have wished for.

Rob and his sister Ella ran up to Riley and Lucas, pulling them both into a tight bear hug. Lucas’s eyes lit up at the familiar faces- tugging on Robs beard, the little boy snuggled into his step father’s embrace. Liam had wished that he could have spent time with them all when Leo was alive. The three Americans all began to cry- Reality was now sinking in having a memorial at Leo’s childhood home.

Constantine remained quiet at the memorial. In comparison to Reginas speech, his was short- lacking words. Liam stood up, walking to the front- he looked at the photo of Leo. Becoming emotional, he sighed.

“Hello everyone. I’d like to thank you all for coming today. I never believed that I would be doing this so soon. Leo you are my big brother, you always looked out for me. Which I am forever grateful for. I regret not keeping in touch with you on a daily basis like we used to. One of my favourite memories from when we were children, was when you convinced me that Bastien was a vampire- Bat-sien. For those who don’t know the story, I actually wore garlic around my neck for nearly a year- and slept with a stake under my pillow. You were cruel at times, but I loved you. When I found out about what had happened, Drake had dragged us to a dive bar in New York- that’s when we met Riley. The selfless woman who helped you live the life you truly wanted. I believe it was fate that we walked through that bar. That night brought her in to our lives as well as my nephew, your son. He’s your double Leo, you would be so proud of him. I love you Leo.” Wiping the tears away, he sat down next to Riley, asking if he could hold Lucas. Rob stood up next, along with Riley. They both asked Liam if they could do a speech together- not wanting to become emotional wrecks doing it individually. They spoke about moments they all shared in New York City, there were laughs from people as well as tears.

“Leo, she thought you was pranking her when she returned home early that day. You didn’t have to do it- we all loved you...” Closing her eyes, the flashback of the night remained in her mind. Rob continued with his speech.

“No matter what sexuality you was, you was still the same Leo that we loved. I know whoever threatened you- is probably sat here right now. But I know, the guards would have never allowed an attack to occur because of who you were. I love you Leo. I miss you beyond words. We all do. I hope you’re at peace now.”

Looking at Rob, Riley gave him an emotional hug, informing him that he did an amazing speech and that Leo would have been proud. Staring at the photo of Leo with his cheesy grin, she then looked at Liam holding Lucas, wondering what their future was going to be like. “My fake husband, we had a laugh trying to pull that off. At times we perfected it, at times we failed miserably. I’d have done anything to make you happy- you were my best friend. Our New York gang isn’t complete without you. I know your spirit has been following me around, and talking to me- you are a wind up merchant even in the spirit world Leo. I may seem crazy but I know your here protecting us all. We all love you. Goodnight, miss you.”

Sitting back down, the two of them were relieved to get their speeches over and done with. It was emotional bringing up their memories again. Everyone stood up and made their way into the ballroom- Liam has asked Drake to take Lucas, he could trust his friend to look after the little boy - especially as he looked after him on the plane bringing him to Cordonia. Pulling Riley to the side, he was concerned with something Rob had said.

“Riley. I need to ask you something.”

“What’s up?”

“When Rob mentioned about someone threatening Leo, and that the guards wouldn’t allow an attack to occur. What did he mean.” Riley’s chest began to rise, Leo was in such a vulnerable state after Constantine’s impromptu visit.

“Liam, in the time between your father’s visit and his death- he received threats in different ways. The first few he ignored. The final one was written in a letter- addressed from Cordonia. It was a load of bullshit- he should have just ignored it.”

“What did it say? Please tell me.” Liam eyes provided worry- he needed to know so he could keep them all safe. Resting his forehead against hers, he asked her again what it said.

We know what you are. We are planning an attack on the palace, it will be unexpected. It could be in a week, a month- maybe even in a year. When we do this, you would have had to take over the throne- that was until your father mentioned that you have a bastard son. If you don’t want your son or precious wife or boyfriend to be harmed, you will run away Prince Leo. We are taking over the throne. If you tell anyone about this- we will kill you all with our bare hands. Don’t think about escaping with your little disfunctional family. Who knows- if you compel with this little arrangement, we may forfeit the attack and consider another way to remove the remaining Rhys’s from Cordonia. Run! Run away Leo and never return.

[theabominableblogger]

Rewatching “Crimson Peak”

Discussing this movie on the Gotham group chat with @ckatattack and decided “Eff it, Imma watch it again.”

Lez go!

“Rent movie for $3.99″ absolutely

Holy crap, I forgot about this opening lullaby during the logo.  Holy shit.

For some reason, the bloody Edith in the opening shot really looks like something the girl behind MadeYewLook should do.  Other Alexis, hear me out!

These colors (in young Edith’s bedroom)!

*flinches when the first ghost puts her hand on Young Edith’s shoulder*

You ever had someone put their hand on your shoulder when you’re like seconds away from falling asleep?  Scariest shit ever.

*silently jams out to the music when Edith is traveling to the publisher*

I freaking LOVE Edith’s yellow dress in this movie.  The puffy shoulders, the black under dress, the straw hat, love it.

“Actually, Mrs. McMichael, I would prefer Mary Shelley.  She died a widow.”  *z snaps*

“The ghost is just a metaphor.  For the past.”  Boom there’s the whole movie.

“He told me it needed a love story.  Can you believe that?”  AGAIN-

Also holy shit, Bobby from Supernatural is Edith’s dad!

For a second, I thought this typing house looked like a science fair.

AND THERE HE [Tom HIddleston] ISSSS!!

I’m sorry, I’m just smiling... so hard at this [Edith and Thomas’s first scene together]

Listen, if we get a scene in the Loki TV show where we see him in an outfit very close to the one he wears in this movie, I will... die.  That’s it.  I’ll just die.

The aesthetics for most of Guillermo del Toro’s movies are wonderful.  The like 95% period accurate clothing, the yellow lighting, the red and green wallpapers OH MY GOD I JUST NOTICED THE RED AND GREEN

*The door knob starts creaking*  Oh boy

That shot of Edith’s face in half shadow when she’s about ready to close the door but she sees the ghost of her mother?  Good stuff.

*Thomas waits near the staircase*  OH SNAP HE LOOK GOOD

OHHHHHHH THAT TRANSITIONNNNN [from the staircase to the ballroom]!!

I also love the detail that Lucille’s dress is ten years too old for her because she is still stuck in the past when it comes to life.

*grins like an idiot when Thomas offers the candle to Edith*

There are so many people gasping in this scene

I wonder if they actually did try to do the waltz with the actual candle lit for filming or did they do some VFX to make it look like it was lit the whole time?  Part of me thinks that that flame’s real but I don’t know.

Where have I seen the guy who plays the investigator before?

“The man that just left, among other ailments, is colorblind....only the majority around him does.  Now that man will never perceive the colors red or green.  He only accepts their existence because the majority around him does.”  “Perhaps we only notice things when the time comes for us to see them.”  OH MY GOD ALL THE RED AND GREEN IN EDITH’S HOME

Charlie Hunnam’s Britsh accent slipped in when he said “understand”

Also I want this man to play Green Arrow in the DCEU

Did she [Lucille] just rub the dead butterfly on her face?

*Close of ants feeding on dead butterfly*  Thanks, that was needed.

*Thomas reveals the ring he was going to give Edith*  BOY YOU KNEW HER FOR LIKE A THREE DAYS AND A NIGHT

Were those all the previous marriage certificates?

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have an unexpected announcement.  Sir Thomas?”  *sinks down in seat and hisses nervously*

*is extremely uncomfortable when Thomas has to insult Edith’s novel in front of her*

*Edith slaps Thomas*  Well he took that pretty well.

*Lucille in the doorway of the dining room*  You know what, eff you.

*jaw drops in horror when someone smashes Mr. Cushing’s face in the sink repeatedly, killing him*

I love that Edith is still in her nightgown and she still has bed head (of a sorts) and yet she ran to the hotel, just throwing on a coat and leaving her reading glasses on.

*slams hands on laptop*  THESE.  TRANSITIONS.

I FORGOT ABOUT THE PUPPER!

BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE GREEN WALLPAPER, SET DESIGNERS!

I’m sorry, was that a slight kiss mark on Edith’s chin?  Did I see that right?

Boy, you be hugging your sister for way too long...

*Lucille refuses to give Edith a copy of the keys*  Electric chair.

“You chose her.  Why?”  BECAUSE HE LOVES HER YOU BITCH

*One of the ghosts sneaks up on Edith in the bathroom*  We see you, @actordougjones!!  I see you!!

*Thomas loudly stirs Edith’s tea for her*  I’m suddenly flashing back to the tea cup from “Get Out”

So would the Sunken Place for this scenario just be completely red from the red clay?  Thoughts to think about.

Wait, how long is Mia Wasikowska’s hair?  Is that all real?  Jeez!  The last time I had hair down to my butt was in elementary school.

“Mother.”  Oo woo oo...

Look, I’ve already seen this movie, but I already want Lucille to shut the hell up.

I’m sorry, was that a porn book Lucille just showed Edith?

Well damn they replaced that sink real quick!

*Thomas watches Edith as she watches one of his contraptions*  S T O P

Mr. del Toro, you have been reading my list of favorite romantic tropes.  Sir please-

*Edith and Thomas kiss passionately*  OH... OHH...

*gestures in the air with frustration when Lucille enters the room*

GO AWAY

Can we start taking shots every time Edith starts wandering around the halls in her nightgown holding a candelabra in this movie?

GREEEEEENNNNNN...

*One of the ghosts starts crawling on the floor, moaning and wailing*  Haha me

*to the tune of “Sugar We’re Going Down”*  WE’RE GOING DOWN DOWN INTO THE RED CLAY BASEMENT!  EDITH WE’RE GOING DOWN-

“My hands are getting rough.  Your father would approve.”  Why would I just realize that?  Man, I’m getting slow.

The last time I watched this movie was in 2016.  I watched the trailer back when I was a senior in high school.  And I watched that trailer multiple times.

I love the ghost as the scarecrow

Girl, you are coughing up blood.  You have been poisoned.

Edith back at it again wandering around at night!  Take a shot!

This was a terrible decision for me to watch this at like midnight.  Why did I do this?

OK, so which one of these ghosts is Javier Botet?

Oh my gosh, the chair Edith is in is bigger than last time because she’s being swallowed by the house. 

AND ANOTHER TRANSITION!

“Sir Thomas is already married.”  BUM BUM BUMMM!!

*has to look away as Thomas and Edith get it on*

Aaand there’s the English countryside right there.  I’m gonna look back away now.

“Lucille, we’re back!”  Lucille, you son of a bitch.

“You slept there?  You two... alone...”  Yeah, that’s what husband and wife do.  They get together, sleep together, do a lot of things together.  Jesus.

“I was so alone.  I can’t be alone.”  Lady, I just want you to shut the hell up.

OK, so now I forget what’s in the ES suitcase?  Enola’s body?  What’s up?

Oh, it’s just a suitcase full of other stuff.  Never mind.  I thought it was gonna be her body.

Lemme guess the ghost is gonna rise out of the red goo?  Yep!

I’m getting a lot of callbacks to “The Shining” like with all the red and then the ghost with the ax in her head climbing out of the tub

Jessica Chastain’s accent keeps slipping.  Am I the only one who’s noticed?

*laughing*  Oh my God, again!  Take a shot!

Oh my God they freaking swindled a lady in a wheelchair.  Ohhhh my God...

WAIT I FORGOT THAT WAS ENOLA’S DOG!

“The poison... is in the tea!”  Funnnnnnnnn....

Oh but of course she got snowed in. 

“I [Lucille] tended Mother in this bed.”  *so done*

STOP EFFING... SCRAPING THE TEA CUP GODDAMN

STOP IT

So is Lucille the older sibling?  Oh yeah she is because she said she tended to their mom

*completely done with Lucille’s BS*

Whoever did the set design for Allerdale Hall, I want to send them flowers and my love

OK I know for a fact that that’s Doug Jones as the ghost of Enola

WAIT I FORGOT ABOUT THIS SHIT

*quickly rips out earphones*

*cue a very long string of expletives and looking up and away from the screen*

EXCUSE ME HER [expletive] BACK IS BROKEN!  SHE HAS LOST THE WILL TO WALK!

*singing* ALAAANNNN THE UNSUNG HE-ROOOOOO!!!

LUCILLE I WANT YOU *laughing* TO SHUT THE HELL UP

*gasps*  WAIT SHE TOOK THE RING BACK FROM EDITH!

“I’m [Alan] here to take you [Edith] away.”  *singing*  They’re going to take me away, a ha, they’re going to take me away!

Wait he’s a doctor and he just yanks that sucker out of his arm pit?  You’d think he’d be smarter than that.

OH MY GOD THEY KILLED THE DOG

*shakes head at the whole fiasco*

*ends up glaring at Lucille as she tosses Edith’s manuscript in the fire*

Edith, while she’s looking away, just freaking tear that... *mimes tearing motion*

Oh my God of course she [Lucille] has a drawer full of the victim’s hairs

“You told me you loved me!”  “I do!”  AGH

*Thomas throws the law papers in the fire*  YAASSSS!!

*gasps when Lucille stabs Thomas*

*jaw drops in horror when Thomas just shanked IN THE FACE*

GOD AND YOU CAN HEAR THE BONE-

*Thomas dies*  Jeeesus... that was a good death scene.

God the shot of Lucille running down the stairs from behind?  Ugh!  And with the flowing fabric behind her!  Freaking gorgeous

*Edith goes down in the elevator*  Bye bish

That is a huge freaking meat cleaver

Seeing Edith with her steak knife going up against Lucille reminds me of that freaking chainsaw fight from “Mandy” with Nicholas Cage

This final set piece!

*Edith goes up against Lucille with a shovel*  MY NAME IS INIGO MONTOYA!  YOU KILLED MY FATHER!  PREPARE TO DIE!

*Ghost Thomas*  Those prosthetics look amazing

*Ghost Thomas nuzzles against Edith’s hand before disappearing*  God it’s the little movements.  del Toro freaking GETS it

*nods when the end credits start*

[usuallyamazinglyaverage]

(Un)happy Coincidence [Ethan x MC]

So, I’ve written a thing... I had to, chapter 8 left me starving for more. English is not my first language and although I consider myself mostly fluent, there will be some grammar and spelling mistakes. Apologies for that and please enjoy!

Summary: Getting locked into a storage room was not how Ethan had planned to spend the end of his shift. Especially not with her.

Warnings: Some light cursing, but nothing major.

Note: My MC’s name is Annabelle “Anna” Dawson and this takes place a few days after Ethan revealed his big secret to her.

Song: Darling I Do - by Landon Pigg and Lucy Schwartz

“Oi, Doctor Ramsey! Doctor Ramsey, wait!“

Ethan groaned internally and stopped in the middle of the hallway. He turned around slowly, already fearing the worst - and sighed. It was her.

Barbara was rolling up to him in her wheelchair, her ever present scowl etched deeply into her face.

“Barb. What can I do for you?“

He tried to at least sound polite, but it was really, really hard tonight. His shift had ended half an hour ago and he just wanted to go home and sleep. The longer he stayed awake, the more he would think about Naveen, his duties and every other thing that bothered him right now.

Barb slowed her wheelchair and came to a stop right in front of him.

“I need more pillows.“ she huffed.

Ethan blinked. Once. Twice.

“Excuse me? You need more what now?“

“Pillows! I can't get comfortable on just the one, it's too flat.“ Barbara explained, rolling her eyes at his question.

“And that's why you stopped me? To get you more pillows?“ he asked in disbelief. „Why didn't you call a nurse, Barb?“

“I did, but they didn't show up. This is exactly why I don't like hospitals, even here you have to do all the work by yourself!“ she griped, gesturing wildly. Ethan exhaled roughly and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No, Barb. They probably didn't come because you criticize everything they do, as soon as they enter the room.“ He closed his eyes briefly.

“If I get you your pillows, will you go back to bed?“ he then asked sternly.

“If I have to,“ Barb muttered.

“You do. Wait in your room, I'll come to you ,“ Ethan ordered and started to walk back the way he came from.

Pillows, blankets and the bedding for the hospital beds were kept in a laundry room in the back of the medical storage. He turned around the next corner, stopped in front of a heavy white door and pulled out his key chain.

It took him a moment to find the right key. He slid it in to the lock, twisted it to the right once and grasped the cold metal doorknob.

As soon as he pushed the door open, he heard a crash from somewhere between the packed shelves, followed by a loud string of curses. Did someone get hurt? Ethan marched a few steps into the dimly lit room, realizing to late that he had left his keys in the lock. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, only to see the door fall shut.

“Shit.“ He was an idiot. How could he have forgotten the damn keys?

“Hello? Is someone there?“ the voice from before asked, sounding shaky and... distinctly familiar. He furrowed his brow.

“Rookie?“ Ethan called out, scanning the rows of shelves. After a few moments she stepped around a shelf to the left of him. Her hazel eyes were wide, her curly blonde hair ruffled and she was clutching her bleeding left hand to her chest.

“Jesus, Anna, what happened?“

She shook her head with a weak smile as he walked over and grabbed her hand to examine the deep cut right across her palm.

“It was my fault. I was looking through some boxes and there was one with broken beakers inside. I couldn't see, it was too high on the shelf.“ she explained quietly, wincing as Ethan stretched the skin around the bleeding cut a bit.

“Well, you won't need stitches, but we should get that cleaned up and bandaged,“ he murmured.

“Good thing we're in a room full of medical supplies,“ Anna joked.

“Get used to it,“ he said gruffly. "We'll be here for a while.“

“What? Why?“

Ethan let go of her hand and pulled a pair of latex gloves from a package on a shelf close to them.

“The door is closed unless you turn the key once, as you know. And since mine is stuck in the lock outside, yours isn't much use and we'll have to wait until someone enters the room. Which could take a while. It’s really late - supply runs are much more frequent during the day.“

Anna was quiet for just a split second – before she started to laugh. The bubbling sound was sunshine incarnate - bright and beautiful - and it hurt his pride.

“It's really not that funny,“ Ethan grumbled, gathering scissors, sterile non-alcoholic swabs, some dressing pads and a roll of gauze.

“Sorry,“ she giggled, eyes shining. "I just never imagined that something like this could happen to you.“

Ethan pulled on the gloves and motioned for her to sit on the ground.

“I'm just a human, Rookie. My shift ended an hour ago and I am… very tired. And when I'm tired, I'm prone to mistakes,“ he said, kneeling in front of her.

The glint of mirth in her gaze morphed into warmth and sympathy. Anna offered him her hand as he opened the swabs. He took it, rubbing soothing circles over her wrist before dabbing the wound carefully.

“Are you sure you’re just tired? Or are you just not feeling alright in general?“ she asked, eyeing him intently.

“Here you are, with a bleeding hand, yet you worry about my wellbeing,“ Ethan scoffed.

“You're avoiding the question.“

“Very perceptive. Take a hint, Rookie.“

The words came out harsher than he had intended, making her flinch and recoil, obviously hurt. He tightened his fingers around her hand, to keep her from pulling away.

“Forgive me,“ he murmured. "It's been a very long week.“

“I understand. I just wanted to... help,“ Anna said softly, watching as he grabbed the scissors and the gauze to cut off a long piece.

“You did.” Ethan's voice was gentle now. “You do.”

He placed a dressing pad on her palm and started wrapping the gauze around it. Soon, he was finished.

“Done. How's it feel?”

“Very good. You do this often?” she teased. Ethan chuckled, shaking his head at her cheeky humor.

“Change the pad and the gauze every day until it's healed and be careful not to strain your hand,” he advised, trying his hardest to sound stern.

“I know,” Anna grinned, tilting her head. “You like to forget, but I'm a doctor too.”

They both tried to get up at the same time, legs tangling, trying to find purchase on the linoleum floor. Anna stumbled mid-movement, grabbing the nearest thing for balance.

Him.

The force of it sent them sprawling to the ground again and Ethan right on top of her, his arms framing her head.

He swallowed as he stared at her face, counting the tiny golden specks in her doe eyes and drinking in her flushed cheeks.

She smelled wonderful. Warm and sweet, like vanilla and lilac flowers. Her eyes were wide with shock, fingers still clutching the lapels of his coat. She glanced at his lips, biting her own. His heart sped up, a hot shiver trailing down his spine.

“Ethan.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper now. He inched closer, unable to help himself.

Their noses were almost touching – and then they heard the key turning in the lock. Ethan scrambled off of her and pulled her up. His neck felt uncomfortably hot as he hastily tried to back away. Anna placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him dead in his tracks - and suddenly her lips were pressed against his stubbles jaw.

It was only for a moment, but it was enough to send his senses into overdrive, her name the only thing on his mind. 

“Thank you.”

And then she was at the door, talking to the nurse who had opened it. He could barely hear the words they exchanged and he really didn't know how he managed to get out into the hallway, keys back in his coat pocket.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Doctor Ramsey." Anna smiled, taking a few steps backwards as she waved with her injured hand.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Rookie,” he managed to cough sheepishly and watched her disappear into the next elevator.

After, Ethan walked to his office to get his bag and jacket, still in deep thought. Only a few minutes later he sat in his car, radio turned up full blast and an unvoluntary, slightly silly grin on his face.

He had completely forgotten Barb’s pillows.

[weilongfu]

The last prompt got me thinking, we’ve heard a lot of mention about Tul but not a tonnnn about Tin’s parents. What are their reactions when they find out TinCan are dating (if you’re still taking prompts) - lbc-tincan

“So, Tul says you’ve been seeing someone.” Tin’s father doesn’t even look at him, doesn’t notice how Tin’s body has prepared itself for a fight. Tin’s father continues pouring himself some brandy. “You haven’t introduced her to your mother and I yet.”

“No, I haven’t introduced him to you yet.”

Tin’s father pauses. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll arrange a dinner, father. Do tell mother to clear her schedule.”

“And Tul?”

“Hasn’t Tul already made up his mind? If he wants to join, how can I stop my older brother?”-----It was as casual a dinner as Tin could manage to arrange. 

First, at least dinner was at home. And Tin made sure the cooks were preparing only Thai food. That would give Can some manner of comfort. 

Second, it wasn’t in the extravagant dining room his mother preferred for parties. It was in the smaller one for small family gatherings. Tin also absolutely refused the use of his mother’s best settings. Tin insisted that they use the unpainted china set. 

Third, Tin managed to his father to not dress like he was at a business dinner and his mother to not dress like she was at a charity ball. There was no helping Tul’s face though.

Can showed up wearing his nicest button down shirt and khakis. He smiled at Tin and Tin fought the urge to grab his hand and run away instead of having this stupid dinner. 

“Hi...” Can pressed a kiss near the corner of Tin’s lips. “Ready?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Can shrugged. “You’ve warned me about them plenty. Did you warn them about me?”

This time Tin smiled. “Not at all.”-----Tin introduced Can. Can, to his credit, performed the most respectful greeting of his life. 

What followed next was borderline disrespectful.

“So what major are you in?” Tin’s father asked.

“I’m in Sports Science, sir.”

Tul smiled, but Can thought it looked very predatory. “I didn’t know the IC program had a Sports Science major.”

“They don’t,” Can said with a shrug. 

Tul looked as if he was ready to go in for the kill. “Then, you are in the Thai program?”

“Why, yes I am P’Tul!” Can’s face lit up. “P’Tul, tell me, you must be so impressed that I am a Thai program.”

Tul’s face twisted into a weird expression. The conversation was not going how he intended. Tin was only smiling softly to himself. Mother and father were silently watching the debacle. 

“So if you’re a Thai program, I do hope you have Tin’s best intentions at heart.” 

“I assure you P’Tul, I have better intentions for Tin than you do.”

Tul’s face didn’t give away any hint of his anger, but Can could see it in his eyes. Tin’s mother motioned for the both of them to calm down, but neither had even raised their voice yet.

“Now now boys, we have only just sat down to dinner. Please, do calm down.” Tin’s mother then turned to Can. “I do apologize, Can. Sometimes Tul gets so protective of Tin.”

“There are many words I would use to describe P’Tul, Khun. I am not sure protective is one of them.”

Tin snickered into his water glass, but Can kept his expression placid and polite. 

“Well, I’m glad there is no bad blood then. I will only ask you to be mindful of Tin. Help me keep him out of trouble, hmm?”

“Oh Khun, I will absolutely make sure he stays out of all unnecessary trouble.”

Tin’s father coughed this time. “Unnecessary trouble?”

“Oh of course sir. Sometimes just a little trouble is necessary.”

“For what reason could anyone want trouble?”

“Sometimes,” Can said as he turned to look at Tin, “We need a little trouble to shake up our lives, make us see what’s really important. We learn to let people in and help us after a little bit of trouble.” Can turned back to smile at Tin’s father. “A tiny bit of necessary trouble does no harm then, don’t you think, sir?”

Tin surveyed the field. His mother and father were perplexed. Tul was fuming.

The first course hadn’t even been served yet. 

This was the best dinner of Tin’s life.