#and admits he has written his phone number so many times and has always chickened out of giving it to paul bc paul is ALWAYS with people

[moeblob]

There is actually a really rough AU (for some) where it's like a reincarnation + soul mate combo. Originally everyone knew their soul mate and felt drawn to them and knew "hey, that's my soul mate!" but after a lot of cycles and lives that stopped being a thing. People stopped being able to remember their previous lives, they stopped feeling like they were drawn to others, and now some soul mates remain that /know/ their soul mate but their soul mate doesn't know them. It's still a pull, but it's not like both of them Really Know.

In the AU, Brent remembered his past lives and has felt detached for a lot of it. He knows his soul mate doesn't remember their past lives and usually when they meet, IF they meet that lifetime, it isn't the best. Brent realizes his soul mate tends to be hostile to him at first and he struggles with that. However, the worst part to him is he can recognize others by sight that do remember previous lives. So when he sees the hot bartender he's like "that guy knows" and in return, HB is like "YOOOO fellow knower C:".

The two talk and it turns out that HB remembers his past lives and knows who his soul mate is but enjoys the fact his soul mate doesn't remember him. He thinks it's nice to fall in love over and over and is very happy with not having an instant success in the romantic department. Brent kinda hears that and is like. Huh. Interesting. Cause he always considered himself a defect for not knowing who he's bound to most of the time.

In the end (of this life time), Brent does get on Right's good side and they do become best friends and that feels good most of the time until he realizes that it won't change the next time. But he comes to terms with it and looks forward to the rest of that life and will try harder next lifetime.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - July 9th

 I’ve started listening to podfics recently--it started while I was packing and moving, and it occurs to me that I should include that. So you’ll be seeing those occasionally--I’m extremely picky about podcasts/podfics, so if I’m rec’ing it, it’s fantastic. 

I’m also thinking about playing around to create a new weekly banner--so we’ll see. 

As always, please remember to kudos/comment if you’re enjoying fic! 

**Indicates a recent favorite. 

~*~ 

[PODFIC] Relativistic Heat Conduction by BlossomsintheMist by Pywren

Ultron has attacked, obliterating most of the world's superheroes and resistance in a matter of hours. The remaining heroes band together and share what strength they have to get through it, to survive, and defeat Ultron once and for all. Steve Rogers grieves in the wake of the disaster and the heroes' defeat, and no one knows if he will be able to provide the leadership they need--but Tony Stark isn't about to let him slip away that easily.

**Enchanted by iam93percentstardust

This night is sparklin', don't you let it go

I'm wonderstruck, blushin' all the way home

I'll spend forever wonderin' if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

~

Steve starts making his way back towards the directions of the cars, wanting to greet her, only to stop dead when he realizes who her date is.

Natasha has brought Tony with her.

Tony of the pictures, of the stories, of Steve’s infatuated little heart even though he’s never met him in person.

**the depths of some divine despair by meidui

Steve blinks and stares down at Natasha, drawing a blank.

“Who’s Tony?”

Hey, u up? by FestiveFerret 

Tony's plastered, and all he wants is to hook up with his ex-boyfriend, Ty. Sure, he deleted his number from his phone, but he has an elephant's memory, even wasted. No problem.

Five Seconds by nanasekei

From the moment Steve suits up, he knows what he’ll do.

I could lie tangent to your curves by RurouniHime

Steve is bodyguard to a prominent young socialite with too much genius on his hands... and who has taken an unfortunate shine to him.

(Written for royal_chandler, who won the bid for my offer in Marvel Trumps Hate 2018.)

hold on to me (i'm a little unsteady) by halfasgoodatanything 

tony loses his memory. steve's afraid to get too close, because he can't take seeing tony without love in his eyes. steve also seems to be the only thing that helps him remember anything, so. heartbreak all around, until tony's memory comes back.

fill the new shape by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)

Steve Rogers's life changed dramatically once he hit college. But maybe that had been coming for almost two years already, since his ex Tony Stark broke up with him. Whatever the reason, he isn't expecting his past to come find him again in the form of one Tony Stark, returned from abroad. What comes after is the beginning of a journey to healing, but they both have a long way to go.

The Art of Winning by KandiSheek

During an Avengers bootcamp, Steve gets the mission to make Tony say the words "You win" or "I give up" to Steve specifically. Which would be fine if Tony didn't seem completely incapable of admitting defeat.

In the end, desperate times call for desperate measures. And it's not like it was Steve's idea to play gay chicken. He can hardly be held responsible for the consequences.

Those Who Mind Don't Matter by KandiSheek

Tony is an omega and therefore coveted by most of the alpha population. However, to everyone's surprise and outrage, he gets together with Steve, a beta. Steve knows he shouldn't care what anyone else says, but you can only read so many headlines calling you unworthy and inadequate before you start to question yourself. What if Tony would be happier with an alpha?

What's The Point? by shaggybeetle

Steve is getting further and further from intimacy with Tony and he is noticing.

He wears clothes to bed, he avoids sexual contact and is overall pretty sad...

Time to try make him feel like he IS worth it.

Knight of Wands by Sineala 

Steve has reigned as king for ten years, and in a few days peace will finally come to his kingdom. Representatives of the Kree Empire are soon to arrive for the negotiations that will end the war between them once and for all. Steve is looking forward to settling down, with his hand-picked Avengers at his side -- led, of course, by the masked knight Iron Man -- and also his trusted advisors, the most beloved of whom is Tony, his court magician, the most powerful mage in all the land.

But when Steve's life is endangered, Tony makes the greatest sacrifice of all to protect his king, a sacrifice far greater than his life. And when Tony disappears under mysterious circumstances, Steve learns that even his closest friends keep secrets that he could never have suspected

Paint the Town Blue by ohjustpeachy

Ten years since he’d seen or spoken to Tony Stark, ten years since they’d broken up to go away to school. And now this email. It could be his only chance to see Tony again.

The weather outside is frightful by BladeoftheNebula 

“I can’t believe this!”

Steve paused, his hand hovering over the piece of firewood. Was that—?

“Of all the idiotic, selfish—“

The last of the words were cut off by the wind, but that was definitely a voice.

Steve frowned. The voice was too clear to be coming from a truck or a car, which meant they must be on foot. He looked at the heavy fall of the snow. No one should be out in this.

Or, Tony is an omega in distress, and Steve is just the alpha-in-shining armour he needs.

[PODFIC] inside my shell-shaped mind by Mizzy by Pywren

Before Ikaris of the Eternals died along with the rest of his people, he gave Tony Stark the power of the Uni-Mind, a power Tony used in order to help stop the Horde from destroying the universe.

The Magistrati are the Living Tribunal's enforcers of Universal Law. They are the judges, jurors, and advocates of the universe. And Tony’s Uni-Mind ability has been judged too dangerous: he must be put to death.

Steve thinks he has a solution. To save Tony's life, he must undergo an intimate version of the Uni-Mind known as the Gann Josin, a type of bonding that creates a mental union between two people...and makes them lifelong soulmates.

Well, it's probably not the oddest way to save someone's life, but it's certainly not going to be easy. Especially when Tony seems determined that the bond should be broken, as soon as possible.

(Set just after War of the Realms #4.)

When I Was New by isozyme

On screen, Kang’s standing on top of a bus in the center of a wrecked intersection. He’s holding a dark-haired, gangly teenager, clearly using the kid as a bargaining chip. At this point, Kang is clearly losing the fight and is looking for an escape route.

Steve winces as Kang hurls his human shield in the direction of the camera and bolts. The poor teen bounces on the pavement, bangs his head, then skids to a rest close enough to make out his face in the video.

Steve almost drops the tablet. The kid is Tony. He’s at least fifteen years younger, mustache barely grown in, and bleeding from his forehead, but -- still Tony.

***She by isozyme

Iron Man is strong and muscular and masculine, and Tony Stark wears a three-piece suit and walks with his hips stiff.  No colors other than navy or muted red. No prints bolder than a pinstripe. No luxurious silks and linens. His outfits are tailored to hang crisp and straight, his slacks hemmed to a conservative medium break.  The public won’t know. Nobody will go digging deeper, for classified ads and witnesses who remember him from half a decade ago. Steve will never find out all the ways Tony’s ruined himself.

The Art of Winning by KandiSheek

During an Avengers bootcamp, Steve gets the mission to make Tony say the words "You win" or "I give up" to Steve specifically. Which would be fine if Tony didn't seem completely incapable of admitting defeat.

In the end, desperate times call for desperate measures. And it's not like it was Steve's idea to play gay chicken. He can hardly be held responsible for the consequences.

***In His Eyes, You’ll Get a Glimpse by ralsbecket 

People tell him it’s supposed to be beautiful, seeing what your Soulmate sees.

Turbulence by KandiSheek

Steve has a major headache, and the businessman douchebag yelling into his phone at the airport isn't helping. There's only so much Steve can stand before he gets up and puts the guy in his place.

Finding out that they're actually seat neighbors is beyond awkward. Especially when Steve's anxiety kicks in as they fly right through a storm.

But as it turns out, the guy isn't as much of a douchebag as Steve first thought.

your kiss is on my list by robertdowneyjjr

The last thing Tony expected when Captain America was unfrozen and came back to life and had a verbal spat with Tony before teaming up to battle an army of aliens together, was for the super soldier to one day show up at the door to his workshop with a bouquet of sunflowers and ask him out on a date.

Teenage-Tony, who had two Cap posters (one in his dorm at MIT and one in his childhood bedroom), a stolen key to Howard’s room full of Cap memorabilia, and his own one-of-a-kind homemade Captain America almanac, would have been thrilled. Adult-Tony, who at the ripe old age of 43 is only now slowly trying to properly address his decades of internalized self-worth issues, thinks this is too good to be true.

rough enough for love by silkspectred

The first time they had sex was right after their first kiss. Steve dropped to his knees and then Tony reciprocated after making Steve lie down on the bed. The second time it was Steve that initiated it, slow handjobs under the hot spray of the shower, and Tony looked surprised by it. Like it was weird that Steve wanted it. Wanted him.

[vicea]

dream merch discord recap (june 12, 2021) - disclaimer: i may have missed some things or mistakenly heard other things, apologies in advanced for that!

he has not played the new minecraft update

dream “knows” the date george is coming to florida but he’s not saying it :p

dream doesn’t have anyone muted on twitter

dream guesses his favorite disney princess is belle

sapnap has seen dream’s feet before

he’s not actually connor’s dad in the dsmp lore

dreamnap do not have nicknames for each other D:

dream likes olives but especially black olives

his mother makes homemade pickles

he doesn’t have a phone case

he has dropped his phone from his ear onto concrete in the parking lot before and the screen didn’t crack

dream has six fingers /j

he pours cereal first not milk when making cereal

dream calls sapnap nick most of the time :D

what’s your dream car? “idk the one that gets me to point A to point B consistently”

he finally fixed his sleep schedule, woke up at 8 am today

mrbeast owes dream a tesla because he never sent dream the audio file

dream is a very analytical person - he thinks with numbers/data

creativity is one his strengths that he is the most proud of

3 to 4 years ago, dream used to say george looks like shawn mendes a lot, now he doesn’t resemble him as much

patches is currently sleeping <3

swimming is very relaxing to dream, he swam the other day!

many houses in florida have pools than other places, even the cheapest houses in orlando have pools

dream has merchendise defects (misprints on merch) + milestone merch and he wants to give them away to those who live in orlando (probably to anyone but the event will be held in orlando) though he doesn’t want it to be a covid super-spreader thing so once you pick up your item you gotta dip. just all an idea though

he has been donating them to charity too though :)

dream has likely read Heroes of Olympus before a long time ago

he says that he’ll do a give away of his childhood books with his signature on it

he was obsessed with the series (Percy Jackson) 

he really liked the Alex Rider series

has all of Maximum Ride books, 39 clues books

has read the legend series, the twilight series, and the maze runner

has all/read of the harry potter books, divergent, eragon

he would read all the time, to the point he would read more than one book a day (a book worm he says)

dream had a goal to read 200 books in a year and he wind up reading about 150

he doesn’t want to call it a library but- growing up he had something like that that had 600 or 700 or more books in it (privileged he admits it)

he has not read a book since he started youtube (about 2 years)

dream has a folder called Book that has his own writing in it

word count: 76000 words for one of his stories 

another one he wrote 5 chapters of

he sounds very excited/embarrassed talking about the stories he wrote he’s so endearing

the very first paragraph of one of his stories (he was young when he wrote this) “What exactly is darkness? is it the lack of light? is it a pit of nothingness? ... your mind is full of darkness...” then he couldn’t continue.

the story is about a kid who wakes up in a cell and has no idea where he is with other people who are in the same situation

dream has a world building document

he has a sequel to the first book he has ever written

he found a query letter that he wrote because he wanted to get his book published- he finds it very funny

he’s calling himself a nerd but idk it’s kind of endearing

“as you can tell i’ve always been incredibly cool and not a nerd at all! ever.”

he cringes at his own old videos

dream took a lot of inspiration from witches and wizards by james patterson for writing

the story is written in a way where the main character is actually writing the story so you’re getting input from the main character during it. there’s a lot of sarcasm in it and it’s making dream laugh

very first person narrator

he feels like it’d be very cool if he were to publish his works he wrote when he was 16 on amazon or something but he probably never would because he’d have to read through all of it and it’s just embarrassing for him

dream used to video call sapnap fairly frequently- even before youtube

he strictly remembers, a very long time (at least 7 to 9 years) ago he was at his old childhood house he video called sapnap. he was wearing a (technically) suit and he remembers specifically that he was giving sap a tour... 

“snazzy in a suit”

he had no reason to put on the suit (wow time is a flat circle huh)

drista is pretty close to sapnap’s height, she’s like 5′7″ but sap is still taller than her

dream filmed the whole thing when he and sapnap met but... it’s... gone because when he was clipping that one clip for twitter... it edited the whole video

he’s sure when they meet up with george they will film that too :D

DREAM IS PRETTY SURE THAT HE AND GEORGE WILL MEET THIS YEAR-- HE SAYS A 95% CERTAINTITY the five percent is like either restrictions or visa issues

dream does not play any instruments but he had a guitar hanging on his wall when he was younger...

dream is convinced they’re the same height but also sapnap is probably taller??

they had george compare his height to a door frame and dreamnap were googling for any doorframes to find any possible chance that george is taller than 5′8″ ... nothing came up

there’s a chance they’re both lying about being 5′8″

sap and george will literally just show up in stilts to prove they’re taller than each other /j

dream without shoes is between 6′2″ and 6′3″ with shoes he’s 6′3.5″

dream is talking about awesamdude’s fake height arc again LOL

dreamnap are very private people so they don’t bother each other but george doesn’t care and would just barge into their rooms and start bothering them- they were all joking about that over a voice call

he will visit europe

he thinks that greece would be a cool place to visit because sapnap’s family is from there :) so it’ll be like a nice “treat” to go back with sap :D

dream isn’t entirely sure that the dream team meet up will happen this year but he’s working out the details because he wants to make sure it’s safe

he’s talking to youtube about his face reveal

it’s up to george if he wants to eat healthy when they finally move in

dream just has a lot of meat and vegetables in his house

spinach with chicken is good

not much fruit (only apples and tomatoes)

“DRISTA IS 5″ is trending on twitter LOL (her height got cut off)

dream doesn’t want people flying to different places because he doesn’t want to encourage travel so he wants to do all of the meet ups with a two day heads up at most

he thinks that it’s awesome that ranboo and tubbo are meeting soon !! :D

it’s very cool to dream to see how far everyone’s has come since the beginning of the dsmp. everyone has done so much

dream finalized his youtube plan a couple weeks before he uploaded his video and he was talking to drista about how he was gonna be a big youtuber in a parking lot :”)

she was the first person he really ever talked to about it

dream would love to teach george how to drive it’d be really funny :D (a very good video or a livestream idea) 

dream knows how to ride a bike, he used to have to bike to school

he can’t explain dnf.gay he has no clue he is not responsible. sapnap was the one who found it LOL. he is adamantly exclaiming that it was not him

dream doesn’t worry about views/likes/dislikes a lot- mainly views but that’s for the new uploads

he hasn’t uploaded in like a month and a half (*cries*)

he wants to stream at some point but he doesn’t know when 

he wants to play geoguessr but not now... he doesn’t want to alt stream rn- maybe tomorrow!

he is insisting that the splash text on his minecraft home screen is by callahan

he asked callahan to send him bunch of text files that are dream team related so that the splash can rotate through it but callahan thought it was funny (it is) to put only dreamnotfound <3 so it doesn’t ever change at all and dream doesn’t even know how to change and he has asked callahan to change it but he said no (even though dream pays him LMAO)

the video referenced in the padilla’s video is still in the works, it might be handed over to sapnap though !

he has no idea if he will be in MCC pride yet

padilla got dream’s input for the video, dream found him to be a very nice guy ! :) it’s the first interview that dream did that wasn’t by a person with a negative opinion of dream

dream felt relaxed doing the interview with padilla 

?????? he’s blaming callahan for his “dnfisreal” nickname in bedwars 

he’s blaming callahan for a lot of dnf-related stuff

callahan runs the dream fanart account thus the liking of dnf content

he’s so insistent that it was callahan

dream admits that he was lying about the twitter and other stuff but for sure callahan did code the splash text in LOL

dream liking that tweet “the chances of george doing a hot tub stream is the same of dnf dating” was “funny” he wasnt trying to do any commentary...

the inside joke of “oh it’s all just a joke to you” originates from george and sapnap actually always fighting (like them yelling and shouting at each other) and george said something really mean and sapnap was hurt then geroge said “it was just a joke” and sapnap replied with that line and ever since then it’s been a meme LOL

he says that everyone does the hand-on-the-passenger-seat-while-reversing thing

dream is offline raiding with his chat with 6k people

dream appreciates us and will talk to us soon! 

[writethelifeyouwant]

Make Him Look - Ch 1 / 2

Pairing: Cordell Walker x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: flirting, many many drinks, jealousy, dancing, slow burn Word Count: 3k Created for: @walker-bingo - In Vino Veritas | @anyfandomgoesbingo - Jealousy A/N: Written with the lovely @thinkinghardhardlythinking in mind ❤️and y'all can also blame her for the fact it got so long I split it into two 😂

Cordell swings his leg over a barstool and settles into his usual spot. The bar is busy but not crowded. There’s a few more empty stools awaiting occupants for the night, and Cordell hooks one with his foot and draws it closer, popping his hat down to save the seat for Liam, who’s on his way. But there’s no reason to wait for Liam before he orders – they get the same thing every time.

“Barkeep! Can I get some queso, hot wings, and whatever Pinthouse you’ve got on draft?”

“Sure thing, man,” the kid behind the bar drawls, his accent thick and voice lazy. Cordell would bet anything the guy had had a joint on his break earlier, but he’s off duty – tonight is not about busting people for drugs, tonight is about letting loose. He checks his phone to see if Liam had texted him that he’d left the office yet, but there is nothing there. Taking a sip of the drink that has just been plopped on a coaster in front of him, Cordell scans the room. It’s a bad habit that every law enforcement worker he’s ever met has developed. Even when he’s trying to relax and blow off some steam, he can’t help being a little vigilant.

He takes in the tableaus around him; the groups of kids from the local community college, the gaggle of mid to late aged men in awful polos that Cordell recognises as the inner city bowling league, a couple of less savoury looking guys playing pool, the cluster of women those guys keep eyeing up – he’ll keep an eye on that one.

Checking his phone again and taking another drink, he still hasn’t heard anything from Liam. He opens his brother’s contact and is about to give him a call to tell him to get his ass in gear when someone suddenly reaches down beside him, picks up his hat and drops it back on his head while they slide into the seat he’d been saving - except it’s not Liam.

“Hey you,” the stranger says familiarly, bumping her shoulder against his. “Thanks for saving me a seat.”

You shrug out of your jacket and sling it over your arm as you head up to the worn wood counter of the bar. You don’t see your friend yet, so you decide to go ahead and order a drink while you wait for her to show. She’s always late, you should have just assumed and shown up fifteen minutes from now. You play on your phone as you wait for the bartender to finish serving the gang of people at the other end of the bar. When you feel someone in front of you, you look up, about to order a glass of wine, except one is already being placed on the bar top in front of you.

You stare questioningly at the kid serving you the drink. You’d been here before, sure, but you’re hardly a regular, and even if you were you don’t recognise this server – so why does he know what you were about to order?

“Um, I didn’t–” you start but the kid interrupts you.

“From the gentleman at the end of the bar, milady,” he gave a geeky little bow, “Sorry, he told me to say it like that,” he grimaces at himself. You chance a fleeting look back to the group you’d noticed him serving a few minutes ago and to your horror, you recognise your ex, Dirk, grinning back at you. He tips the brim of his ball cap and gives you a wink, like he’s expecting you to be impressed that he remembers you drink red wine. Shit, this is not how this night is supposed to go. You’re supposed to be here to get drunk with your best friend and have a bit of a dance, not be looking over your shoulder the whole night hoping that jerk leaves you alone.

Panicking a little now, you check your phone but there’s no text from Lea telling you when to expect her. Knowing her like you do, you would bet anything she won’t be here soon, and you don’t want to wait on your own and risk Dirk coming to talk to you. Desperately, you scan your eyes around the bar, cataloguing your options and escape routes. Someone catches your eye a few seats along from where you are. Tall, broad – dark and handsome, your mind supplies unhelpfully – but what really catches your eye is the badge hanging from his belt. He’s a Ranger.

Normally, you’d pick a group of girls who you know would happily pretend to know you so you don’t have to wait alone but you know Dirk, and you know he won’t be shy enough to let any number of girls stop him from coming to ruin your night. But a guy - and a Texas Ranger at that – Dirk wouldn’t dare. He had an outstanding DUI, and he’d always been a bit of a chicken around cops anyways.

Choice made, you grab the wine he’d bought you – hey, you’re not made of money, free booze is free booze – and you march purposefully over to the Ranger, who’s checking his phone and not paying attention until you grab his black cowboy hat off the chair next to him. Clearly he had been saving it for someone, and you want Dirk to think that someone is you.

“Hey you,” you chirp, placing his hat back on his head as you slide into the seat he’d been saving, “Thanks for saving me a seat.” You smile at the Ranger long enough to see him looking at you completely perplexed before you glance back to Dirk and see him watching you with a scowl. You let yourself feel inwardly triumphant and turn back to the man you’d just decided to befriend, if only temporarily.

Swivelling back towards him, you let yourself get a good look at his face for the first time. His bright hazel eyes are staring back at you, confused but not unkind. Tall, dark, and handsome is definitely apt, and now you’re seeing him properly you’re a bit speechless. You hadn’t counted on him being this freakin’ attractive.

“Sorry,” you finally manage to choke out under your breath. “I’ll leave you alone soon, I promise, I’m just hiding from my ex,” you explain, and understanding melts across the man’s face.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks sympathetically.

“Just pretend like you know me until my friend gets here?” you propose hopefully.

“Happy to,” he smiles, grabbing his drink and holding it out to clink against your wine glass. You tap your glass against his, relief flooding your body as you settle onto your stool a little more comfortably.

“Thank you…” you trail off leadingly, hoping he’ll fill in his name.

“Cordell,” he supplies.

“Now there is a Texan name if I ever heard one,” you giggle.

“If you’re gonna laugh at my name do I at least get the chance to laugh at yours too?” he grins jokingly.

“Y/N,” you give him your name, tucking your hair behind your ear and taking a sip of your wine.

“Well that’s no fun, how can I tease you for such a pretty name?” Cordell takes a sip of his own drink, mirroring you. Jeez, this one is a smooth talker.

-

When you finish your glass of wine, probably a little quicker than normal due to your anxious state, you check your phone again and see a missed call from Lea. “Crap,” you sigh, drawing a concerned look from Cordell, who is happily munching away on some chips and queso next to you.

“Everything okay?” He asks, muffled, mouth still full of food.

“Yeah, s’just my friend bailing on me,” you gripe, listening to the voicemail she’d left on your phone a few minutes ago. “Sorry I gate crashed your night for nothing,” you apologise, popping your phone back in your bag and planning on just going home to turn in early and watch some junky tv show in bed now that your ‘girls night’ wasn’t happening.

“Hey, you aren’t gate crashing.” Cordell shrugs, like he’s hedging his bets with his next statement. “I’ve had a good time so far.” His smile is shy and sincere, and you soften just a little in your annoyance at the world.

“I totally am though, you were clearly waiting for someone,” you gesture to the stool you’d taken up residence on.

“Just my work-a-holic brother, who, as luck would have it–” Cordell pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it up to show the message on the lock screen “–also pulled out on me.”

“Oh,” you blink, not sure what to make of that. It sounds like he’s asking you to stay but… “Well, thank you for being my knight in shining armour for a bit, seriously, but I don’t really want to stick around just to have my ex looking at me all night.”

“Well, if he’s gonna be a creep and keep watching you all night, we could make that fun, give him something to watch,” Cordell offers, his smirk incongruous with the almost hopeful expression in his eyes.

“What?” You’re perplexed.

“I mean, I don’t know what happened between you, but it’s pretty obvious to me that he wants you back, and you seem pretty pissed at him for that. I’m guessing the bastard cheated on you?” You huff in response, a little bitter that he’d read the situation so easily.

“Yeah, he did,” you admit, slumping against the bar, feeling downtrodden at the memory.

“So don’t let him chase you off,” Cordell shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He messed you around – you tellin’ me you wouldn’t like to mess with him right back?” he raises an eyebrow in temptation, a knowing smirk twitching at his lips.

“And you’re proposing that instead of not wanting him to look at me all night–”

“You make him look,” Cordell finishes your sentence for you. “We’ve already pretended to know each other for the past–” he checks his watch “–twenty minutes. May as well just do the whole pretend date.” Cordell looks at you with so much honesty, you believe that he really does just want to help you screw with Dirk. And you cannot say the idea isn’t appealing.

“Alright,” you concede, shaking your head slightly in disbelief that you’re actually agreeing to this, and Cordell’s face splits into a wide smile. Honestly, seeing that expression alone made agreeing to this worth it. “So, if we’re on a pretend date, you gonna pretend to buy me another drink?”

“No,” you insist, shaking your head vehemently.

“C’mon,” Cordell chides, grinning madly.

“I did not agree to this,” you shake your head, finishing off the last bit of wine in your glass.

“Come on,” he urges again, leaning against the bar and tilting his head close to yours pleadingly.

“I am not dancing,” you repeat, wholeheartedly meaning it. You think if you have to come into genuine skin to skin contact with Cordell, you might actually melt into a puddle. Now three glasses of wine into your fake date, you can feel yourself loosening up and really enjoying yourself with this handsome stranger. He’s kind, and funny, and a little weird but in a charming way – exactly your type. And him begging you to dance with him wasn’t helping your self-restraint. This is a fake date, you keep reminding yourself firmly every time he flashes you that little half smile that makes his eyes light up.

“Well, I don’t know what kind of boring fake dates you usually go on, but mine aren’t complete unless I get to show off my two-step and knock back a tequila shot.”

“Oh, we’re doing tequila now, are we?” You laugh – this guy is actually ridiculous, and you kind of love it.

“That wasn’t a no,” he jumps on your ‘non denial’ and waves at the kid behind the bar. “Two tequilas, two limes?” he holds up two fingers and the bartender nods to him, quickly pouring out the shots and dropping two lime wedges onto a plate. Cordell grabs a salt shaker from the condiments rack on the bar and sets everything up between you. You let him work, watching incredulously but enjoying the show nonetheless.

“Give me your hand,” he holds out his own hand expectantly once he’s arranged all the pieces to his liking.

“Why?” your voice is nervous but your hand reaches out instantly of its own accord. Without answering he proceeds to rub the edge of the lime over the inside of your wrist, then puts the lime in your fingers and shakes some salt over the trail of juice he left behind. He does the same thing to himself, then passes you your shot, which you take in your lime-free hand.

“Right, you wanna do this the normal way or the ‘make Dirk jealous way’?” Cordell asks with a smirk once he’s oriented himself.

“I’m gonna regret asking this, but what’s the ‘make Dirk jealous’ way?” you groan exaggeratedly, like he’s put some great burden on you, but the truth is you’re really enjoying yourself.

“Like this,” Cordell steps up to you and links your right arms together. Catching his drift you smile and try to hold back the snort of laughter that bubbles up inside you – a nervous reaction to feeling the warmth of his body against yours, even through the layer of his shirt. “One, two, three,” he counts off and you go to lick the salt off your wrist except that’s what Cordell is doing. You freeze momentarily, heat shooting up your arm from where his tongue and lips are laving over your skin. You don’t think to move until Cordell puts his own wrist against your lips and you lick obediently.

Your linked arms pull you closer together as Cordell lifts the tequila to his lips and you follow suit in a kind of trance, both knocking back your shots. The tequila hits you harder than you remember it ever doing before, and you scrunch up your face, disoriented for a moment until you once again feel Cordell’s lips on your skin. This time they’re wrapping around your finger tips as he sucks the lime into his mouth. You stand frozen, the burn in your mouth and your fingers meeting in your chest and ratcheting up your heart rate as if you’re trying to run away from the oncoming flames. But it’s hopeless, you’re stuck in the blaze now.

“You want your lime, darlin’?” Cordell laughs at your stock still frame and holds his fingers to your lips, gently pressing the fruit inside and urging you to suck. You’re sure you must have physically combusted into fire by now, but Cordell isn’t jumping away like he’s been singed – he’s pressing closer. “Dance with me,” he rasps, voice hoarse from the burn of the alcohol. It’s not a request anymore, it’s an order, and you don’t question it.

Drawing his hand down the arm of yours linked with his until your fingers lace together, he pulls you away from the bar and out onto the dance floor. It’s an upbeat country song, the kind you’d normally jump around to, but he pulls you in and wraps an arm around your waist like a proper partner dance calls for – except he’s ignored the social convention of leaving room for Jesus. He pulls you after him in tiny circles and you let him lead happily. When the song changes to something a little slower he pulls you just a little tighter, and you can’t stop yourself from moving your gaze off his shoulder up to his face.

His eyes dart over your shoulder, then smile down at you wryly, and you feel yourself blush. “He’s watching,” Cordell grins mischievously. You go to look but he puts a hand on your neck and holds you still, keeping your eyes on him. His fingers are strong and warm against your collarbone, ironically causing you to shiver. “No, don’t look at him,” his voice is low as he leans in conspiratorially, “you wanna make him look, remember?”

“Why are you helping me?” The alcohol swimming through your veins is making you comfortable and fuzzy, and you let yourself lean against him familiarly, your head resting against his chest as he continues to move you both around the dance floor. You feel him shrug as his grips on your hand and the nape of your neck tighten a little.

“The truth?” he asks. You can hear the nerves in his voice, even if you can’t see them on his face.

“No, I want you to lie to me, please,” your voice manages to stay serious through the end of the joke before you burst into giggles, and you feel your laughter move into his body and trigger his own, making his chest rise and fall unevenly beneath your cheek.

“You are one hell of a gal, you know that?” You’re glad your face is buried in his chest so he can’t see just how brightly you smile at the compliment. “Truth is, I’ve been trying to get you drunk and have my wicked way with you.” You can tell by how expressionless his voice has gone that he’s winding you up, but you pull back and slap your hand to your chest in mock horror.

“Well Cordell Walker, I have never met such a rogue in my life,” you gasp in your best Scarlet O’Hara accent. It’s not a good one. Neither of you can keep a straight face for more than a few seconds, and you both double over in laughter after your minuscule standoff.

As your laughter dies down, Cordell grabs your hands again and pulls you back to him, swaying entirely out of time to the song that’s playing. He looks like he’s about to say something but the words haven’t quite found their way to his tongue, and when you catch his eyes you suddenly don’t want to hear what he has to say and you pull away from him. He looks at you, puzzled and just the slightest bit hurt as you try to find some cover for your sudden movement.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a bourbon fan, would you?”

Part 2 Here!

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67

All Walker: @lovealways-j @delightfullykrispypeach @stoneyggirl @thinkinghardhardlythinking @sams-sass @walkersbabygirl

[eirikaanemo]

My Celebrity Childhood Friend

Warnings: minor character death, sad feels

Venti x GN!Reader

2k Words

Many years ago, when you were eight years old, you had two very close friends. Their names were Venti and Himmel. The three of you did everything together. You were very close. All of you thought your friendship would be forever and that you would always be close. But, unfortunately, that's not what happened.

One day you and Venti received the news that Himmel had passed away. It was really difficult for both of you to accept the reality of his death, grieve, and move on with your lives. In the end, you couldn’t even help each other. Spending time together only reminded you of how Himmel wasn’t there anymore.

Eventually Venti just couldn’t take it anymore. So his family moved out. Losing Himmel had hurt, but losing Venti too reopened the almost healing wound in your heart. He didn’t even say goodbye because he thought he’d chicken out if he did. And so there you were, friendless, hurt, and feeling very, very alone.

Your only solace was in practicing the piano. The three of you had all been learning instruments and playing together before. The idea was to become a band of sorts together and play music professionally. Himmel played violin, Venti played guitar, and you played piano. Playing the piano was all you had left of them, so you continued playing and practicing it.

Years pass and you move on as much as you can. You make new friends and try new things. Piano is still important to you but you do new things now too. But even with all of this, there’s a part of you that left with Venti and Himmel. The hurt in your heart is no longer a gaping wound. Yet the pain has never truly gone away.

Then one day you hear a familiar voice on the radio. That voice and guitar combo sounded very familiar. It was a good song and you enjoyed listening to it, but you just couldn’t get the feeling of familiarity out of your mind. However, once the radio host introduced the song, you immediately understood. “And that was Soaring Bird by The Bard. Venti really did himself proud on this one…,” they continued, but you were no longer listening.

Venti was on the radio! What could this mean? You hurriedly took out your phone and ran a search. There he was, Venti, also known as The Bard, is a singer/songwriter who rose to fame after a stint on a television talent show a couple months ago. Well, what do you know? Your childhood friend has followed your childhood dream.

Part of you feels left behind, but you accepted that had happened years ago. So instead you decided to be supportive! Suddenly you have a new favorite singer and you just have to have all his albums. Physical copies, so you can display them. Your bedroom walls are covered with posters.

You now have more The Bard themed t-shirts than you have regular shirts. There’s a concert of his you can go to? You’re there. You promote him with everyone you know. If you hadn’t converted your friends to the truth of Venti supremacy they probably would have gotten sick of your antics by now. Instead they’re almost as invested as you are.

When he finally releases a new album you are thrilled. It’s been almost a year since he released his last one and you’ve been starving for new content. You are first in line to the store to buy the album and listen to it as soon as possible. Track one through four are fantastic and you enjoy them a lot! But then track five starts to play.

It’s more melancholy and nostalgic than other songs he has written. And then you hear the words. The words touch your heart, soothing and healing some of the pain that has remained. At the end he takes a moment to dedicate it to his childhood friend, to you. Not by name, but you know what he means by “my old childhood friend”. You’re tearing up.

I’m sorry I was too blind to see

That you were suffering as much as me

You were left behind, I was moving on

And you were left to carry on

It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair

That I chose to just leave you there

We’re not really close now, are we

But I just want to say I’m sorry

You listened to it over and over again, crying in your room. Maybe it was stupid but that was something you didn’t even know you’ve been wanting to hear for years. Knowing that he felt bad about leaving you behind and hearing an apology from him meant the world to you.

And it just so happens that the song he dedicated to you is your friends’ new favorite song. If they didn’t know about your history with him before, then they sure know now. You’re still struggling to not cry every time it plays. Sure, maybe some of your dirty laundry was now being aired all around the world. But that wasn’t important.

What was important was that your heart was finally able to heal. You were truly able to feel happy again, for the first time since you were eight years old. Life had color again. There was more of a bounce to your step. Your friends noticed that your smiles even seemed more real now.

So when you learned that Venti would be doing an album signing event, you just knew you had to go. And you knew just which album you wanted to have signed. Now all you could think about was getting the album signed. How would he react to seeing you again? Would he recognize you? You really hope he does. It would really hurt if he doesn’t.

All of a sudden you’re now worrying if this is a good idea at all. Your friends managed to convince you to go, but you were really close to not going at all. And even now that you’re here at the signing you’re half considering running away. But instead you steel your courage and get in line.

You try not to think about it as the line slowly creeps forward. Making small talk with those around you in line might help, but you’re too nervous to even try social interaction. You’re twentieth in line, then tenth, then fifth, then second. Now it’s your turn and you approach the table he’s sitting at to sign the albums.

He’s wearing a white button up shirt, green slacks, and a green beanie with a flower on it. He’s dyed the tips of his braids teal and wears some light makeup to bring out the color of his eyes. You suddenly feel very underdressed as you anxiously walk up and hand him the album.

“Hi Venti,” you say softly. “It’s good to see you again.” He looks up sharply and freezes for a second, wide eyed. “Oh my gosh!” He exclaims, jumping up out of his seat. “It’s so good to see you again! It’s been so long!” You smile, feeling more comfortable and sure of yourself now that you know he recognizes you.

Someone behind him clears their throat and sits back down. “I can’t really talk right now,” he admits, sheepishly. “We don’t want to hold up the line, but hold on a sec.” He opens the album and scribbles something on the inside of the opaque cover. “That’s my number,” he whispers quietly to you. “Text me later, okay? I’ll get back to you when I can.”

You nod and move on, only realizing he didn’t actually sign the case until you were down the hall from where he was signing. Laughing a little, you sit down on a bench and pull out your phone. That was such a Venti-like thing for him to do. Sometimes he would get so excited that he’d forget what he was supposed to be doing.

Opening your texting app, you typed in his number and sent him a message.

You: Hi! Is this the right number? I’m the one you wrote song number five about.

It took a couple hours for him to reply. Which is very understandable considering how he was probably signing albums for a while.

Venti: Yes! This is the right number! It’s so good to hear from you again :)

Venti: And I’m so glad you heard that song

Venti: I really am sorry about leaving like that

You: I won’t lie and say that it’s fine, because it really hurt that you left like that

You: But I really appreciate your song that you wrote for me. I cry every time I hear it

Venti: Oh no! I didn’t mean to make you sad :(

You: Happy tears, Venti. They’re all happy tears

Venti: Oh, okay, that’s good :)

Venti: Want to come eat lunch with the staff and me?

Venti: They’re all really curious about you

Venti: The mysterious childhood friend I wrote a whole song about

You: Sure! How do I find you?

Venti: You don’t! Where are you? I’ll send someone to pick you up ;)

You send him your location and wait around for someone to come pick you up. After a while a nicely dressed woman approaches you and gestures for you to follow her. She leads you to a car and drives you to a restaurant. A waiter takes you to one of the closed off rooms for group events.

Approximately two seconds after the door is closed, you are hug tackled to the floor. Venti cheerfully cheers your name right into your ear. You grumble good naturedly and swat at him until he laughs and gets off you. He offers his hand, you take it, and he helps you stand up. Some chuckles from the staff tell me they’re just as amused as he is by the situation.

This sets the tone for your lunch. It’s lighthearted and you have a great time getting to know each other again. He introduces the staff and they admit they’ve been curious about his childhood friend he wrote a song about. You enjoy eating lunch with them a lot, and all of you are disappointed when you have to go.

You continue to chat as long as you can while preparing to leave. As you’re gathering your stuff to go, you come across the album that he never actually signed. “Oh yeah,” you laugh. “Venti, you never actually signed my album!”

“Whoops! I’ll sign that right now.” He declares. “Though I must admit that I feel a little awkward signing stuff for you.” Finishing writing with a flourish, he hands the album back to you. “But I guess I better get used to it,” he continues. “You better bring the rest of the albums next time!”

Your smile is so bright that he has to squint for a moment.. “I’m looking forward to it already.” You say. “See you later?” He beams right back. “Yep! I’ll let you know the next time we can meet up!”

The grin stays on your face all the way home.

You meet up whenever you can after that, though your schedules don’t always match up enough to allow it. Video calls are common when he goes on tour. It’s like the two of you never split. And eventually your friendship becomes something more.

“Hey, could I ask you a question?” Venti asks you over a video call one night. He’s acting a little funny, nervous with a dash of hope and excitement. “Would you like to go out with me sometimes? Like a date?” You chuckle, amused. “Venti, you’re on tour right now. It’s not like we could go out to dinner or something.”

“You’re right that we can’t go out to dinner together, but we could eat at the same time over a video call! I’ll even call and order food for you or something!” Venti plans. “Sure,” you agree. “I think I’d like that.” He pumps his fist in the air. “Yes!” He shouts. “I’m gonna make this the best long-distance date ever!”

And so he does.

[fanfic-scribbles]

Smile

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Bucky gives you some reasons to smile.

Quick facts: Romance – Bucky Barnes/Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, puns, cheesy jokes, so cheesy

Words: 3344

A/N: I’m going to admit it upfront, about 40 percent of the time spent on this fic was spent on writing it. The other 60 percent was spent on finding the jokes. Also, this story is semi-inspired by the fact that my face is not nearly as expressive as it feels (I basically look like the polite cat meme when I really try and I can’t do it for long before my face hurts too much) so this goes out to other people who get accused of resting bitch/asshole face. And get written up for it. Anyway, please enjoy this goofy little Bucky/Reader get together.

  ~

‘How do you make a tissue dance?’

‘Put a little boogie in it.’

Bucky snorts and coughs when he accidentally breathes coffee instead of air. ‘That’s disgusting,’ he texts back but Sam just replies with an obnoxious smiling face. Bucky shakes his head and goes back to his coffee. It’s actually not so terrible today.

He doesn’t hang out in a dive, but this coffee shop is a type of quiet he almost never sees in the city. It’s too far from the tourism path for convenience and just outside the neighborhood purview where there are many other local (better) favorites. It’s clean enough and decently sized, but it’s decorated like it was supposed to be trendy ten years ago and the place is barely staffed, to match its perpetually nigh-empty interior. There was a short-lived attempt at hiring another person, but after a ridiculous amount of turnover the owners, or whoever, apparently cut their losses and the only constants that remain are Bucky, the lone customer, you, the person actually working the counter, and your manager.

You’re nice. You always speak kindly to Bucky and, when you think you can sneak it, upsize his cup without comment or charge. Also, one time when his glove broke and slipped off, you hadn’t even commented on the arm; you’d even helped him stop panicking enough to see it hadn’t gone far and helped secure it temporarily with a rubber band.

Your manager, meanwhile, is a dick who glares at Bucky and once made a snide comment about him leaning too close to the register, and only talks to you in demanding barks. Like now– but the five minute “hushed” conversation is winding down and soon it will be safe for Bucky to go get his refill.

“I’m writing you up,” the manager says.

You jerk back in shock. “For not smiling enough?”

“It’s what we got marked down for, it’s what’s going on your record,” he says, turns on his heel, and retreats into the back to do jack shit. Bucky glares at his back as he goes. His harsh expression turns to a milder frown when he looks at you, hunched over and staring at the counter with a dead expression on your face.

He looks at his phone, looks at his empty coffee cup, and makes a quick decision.

“Can I get a refill?” he asks when he’s in front of you, startling you out of your stagnant misery. You look up at Bucky and after a second force an unnatural smile on your face. He winces on your behalf.

“Of course,” you say softly, and turn to refill the cup.

When you hand it back to him Bucky shuffles, hesitates, but finally asks, “Why are colds bad criminals?”

You blink. “Uh…why?”

“Because they’re easy to catch.”

You blink again, and then let out a startled laugh. Bucky smiles slightly at the sound, and smiles more at the more natural, smaller turn of your lips as you say, “That’s…that’s a good one.”

“It’s pretty terrible.”

“All the best ones are,” you say, and the door chimes making Bucky break away. But as he watches you talk to the delivery man like normal he nods to himself. He leaves with his coffee to start the day and fires a quick text to Sam: ‘Where do you get your dumb jokes?’

~

The next day when the door chimes and you see your one regular customer, you let yourself smile a lot more naturally than you have been. Your face is starting to hurt and your boss is probably napping in the back, so you take the chance to relax.

“Hi,” you say. “The usual?”

“Please,” he says, polite as ever as he hands you exact change and you go to fix his cup. When you bring it back he asks, “What did the fish say when he swam into a wall?”

“What?”

“Dam.”

You giggle despite yourself. Bucky’s smile is small and guarded, but you haven’t had a moment yet where you haven’t been grateful to see it. Maybe this ‘smiling’ business is all it’s cracked up to be. If only it didn’t hurt your cheeks so much.

But as he tips his cup to you and goes to his favorite corner, you find you don’t mind the ache as much.

~

Every time he comes in now, he brings a new joke.

“What do you call a fake noodle?”

“An im-pasta.”

“What does a clock do when it’s hungry?”

“It goes back four seconds.”

“Why did the bike fall over?”

“It was two tired.”

The delivery is fairly flat but there’s always at least the hint of a smile and, you don’t know, it might be his absolute seriousness that sells it, because every one of them raises your spirits. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you jokes. For anyone else you might think they’re flirting, but you don’t get that impression here. He’s handsome, always looks put-together in quality clothes even if they seem picked for comfort over anything else, and even before this he has always been unfailingly polite. If he wants someone, he has to have someone just as lovely. Right?

You can’t help but think about it even after he comes back. And the wonderfully terrible jokes, thankfully, don’t stop.

“Why did the mushroom go to the party?”

You keep pouring the coffee while you ponder an answer. “I don’t know,” you decide and lift your head as you hand Bucky his drink.

The way he smiles is very fetching– not quite a smirk, it’s a little too unsure for that, but it tilts up to the side and gives him a boyish charm that would make anyone weak in the knees. “Because he was a fungi.”

It makes a smile big enough for you to feel, but considering how self-conscious you are now you quickly tell him, “I liked that.”

“I know,” he says. “You smiled.”

“You can tell?” Maybe you aren’t as bad off as you thought. Or maybe he’s just being nice. But he seems honest, and he nods decisively.

“I get not being the most…expressive.” He shrugs. “But anyone can still see it, if they look.”

The implication that he cares enough to look stuns you both to silence. He ducks his head shyly and lifts his coffee cup in thanks before retreating to his corner. When you finally have working vocal cords again you say, “Have a nice day.” It might be the first time you’ve ever really meant it.

~

“What’s the opposite of coffee?”

Bucky’s eyes widen and narrow in quick succession as he goes from surprise to contemplation. He weighs your question with all the dramatic seriousness you could hope for before he says, “I don’t know. What is the opposite of coffee?”

You grin when you say, “Sneezy.”

His smile is bright and he nods his head. “Not bad, not bad.” He leans on the counter, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him. It’s…shockingly warming. You have to remind yourself not to get too close. He showed up out of the blue and he can be gone just as quickly. Just because he’s nice doesn’t mean he has any attachment here. In fact, you hope he doesn’t– you’d question his sanity otherwise. “Why did Mozart hate chickens?”

“I don’t know,” you say, eager to hear the answer.

“Because when he asked them for their favorite composer, they said, “Bach! Bach! Bach!’”

You laugh– that is, of course, when your supervisor pokes his head out of the back and scowls at you. He should be happy that you’re ‘smiling enough’ but you know full well anything you do is never going to be good. You freeze whatever expression is on your face as Bucky’s mood darkens and your heart sinks. “Enjoy your coffee,” you say, infusing meaning into every word. That ekes out a small imitation of a smile as Bucky raises his cup and goes to his seat.

Your supervisor starts to stalk over to you but you are saved by the sudden ringing of a phone, and he blessedly turns on his heel and goes to answer.

You sigh and start cleaning up the counter. Bucky is in his corner, hunched over and quiet as usual. He looks fine, but you feel bad for the interruption, even though you get the impression he understands. Still, this is one nice thing you’ve had in this otherwise miserable job and you’re not going to lose yet one more good person to your superior’s shitty attitude.

You push out a roll of receipt paper, scribble ‘Why did the espresso keep checking his watch?’ on it, and stick it in your apron. You walk over to wipe down an untouched table and, before heading back, make a little detour to drop it next to Bucky’s arm. He grabs the paper as you’re scooting away (plausible deniability in case your boss comes out) but it isn’t until you’re back behind the counter that you realize what that just looked like. Does he think you just dropped your number? He hasn’t opened it yet. Is he trying to figure out a way to let you down? You suddenly regret playing into this so much; he was just trying to be nice, he probably didn’t expect you to latch onto it so–

He opens the paper, reads it, and shoots you a little smirk. You breathe a sigh of relief and mindlessly wipe things down and rearrange well-organized creamers and straws until Bucky comes up for his customary pre-leaving refill. You’re a little disheartened it’s that time already, but it means you’re that much closer to the end of your shift, at least.

“Why?” Bucky asks quietly. It takes you a second before you remember the receipt paper and you surreptitiously check the back to see the door is closed.

“Because he was pressed for time,” you say quietly as you hand back his cup.

He chuckles. “I like it,” he says and takes a sip. “Thanks,” he adds as expected, but then he winks and you…you just stare at him as he leaves.

Should you have dropped your number?

~

A few days later, Bucky is caught off his guard and pays for it.

“What’s this?”

Bucky doesn’t get to his coffee cup fast enough and Sam snatches it and reads. “Sam,” Bucky grumbles but there it is, Sam’s eyes go wide and he turns that stare on Bucky. “Don’t look at me like that,” Bucky snaps and snatches his drink back.

“You’ve been using my jokes to hit on a dorky barista?” Sam asks and follows him across the room.

“I’ve been using jokes from the site you steal yours from to share with the nice woman who makes my coffee,” Bucky says and sits in a chair. He never stays for Sam’s group VA sessions and he should have left sooner, damn it. “I wouldn’t use yours. They’re gross.”

“Potentially inappropriate for a lady,” Sam says. Bucky opens his mouth to argue but, no, that’s exactly it, even though Sam’s tone implies something completely different from what Bucky would have said. “What’s her name?”

“Bucky?”

Steve has never been more of an actual hero to Bucky than he is right now. Right on time to walk back home with Bucky, Steve wanders in, sees the two of them, and stops. “Oh, should I…”

“Let’s g–” Bucky is immediately stopped by Sam’s hand on his shoulder.

“Bucky’s got his eyes on someone,” Sam says, immediately centering himself as Bucky’s most hated arch-nemesis.

…Okay, maybe not, but if Bucky didn’t have real problems he would be.

“I do not,” Bucky grumbles, because he knows it’s pointless and Steve is immediately sitting in front of them and leaning in like he’s the last girl at the sleepover.

“Really Buck? That’s great!” Steve says. “Have you…are you going to make a move?”

“No,” Bucky says and quickly runs down the situation, hoping that it will clear things up but knowing his friends too well. Indeed, Sam and Steve share smirks before looking at him again.

“You’re a real hero,” Sam says, only partly joking.

“I hate you,” Bucky says, ducking his head down. He doesn’t really blush anymore, if he ever did, but the motion is instinctive.

“You don’t.”

“I wish I did.”

Steve grins, as does Sam, and Bucky wants to duck into a hole. Goddamn mother hens, they’re going to want to–

“Should we come by?” Sam asks and leans back in his chair. “Be real wingmen?”

“No,” Bucky says, harsher than he means to. Sam and Steve don’t look bothered– they’ve weathered worse emotional snaps than that– but they wait for him to explain and Bucky doesn’t know if he can. Because what if this is leading to something? Is he ready for that? He thinks he might like you, but would he be okay putting in the effort of getting to know you? What if he can’t handle it? What if Steve and Sam walk in and they’re all you see? Both of them are plenty distracting, and charming, while Bucky can hardly put one foot in front of the other, some days. And what if this isn’t leading to anything, you’re just nice, and it’s nice, but Sam and Steve find out and look at him with all the pity they can muster?

“I just…want to see it through. On my own. Whatever this is.” ‘Or could be’ he leaves unspoken, because hoping for anything still feels like too much.

“Okay,” Sam says first, because of course he does, but Steve nods along quickly. It’s enough to make Bucky exhale deeply and relax muscles he didn’t know he had tensed. He rolls his eyes and stands up to cover for it.

“You’ll keep us updated though, right?” Sam asks, an easy grin on his face as he lounges in the chair.

“Like I’ll be able to avoid it,” Bucky mutters, finishes his drink, and lets Sam know they’re okay by throwing the empty cup at his head.

~

The fact that you’re running out of coffee-related jokes is stressing you out. You wanted to keep on theme but too many more days of this and you’ll be scouring the internet for whatever jokes Bucky hasn’t used yet. There are some coffee-related puns, but…the ones you like carry a romantic hint to them, and you were hoping to save those in case Bucky showed any interest. So far you haven’t picked up on anything, but you’re also very oblivious, and your roommate thinks you’re an idiot and he’s obviously into you.

But he might not be.

You do what you’ve been doing since your boss snarked at you about flirting on the clock and get Bucky’s cup ready with maybe your favorite joke.

‘How did the hipster burn his tongue?

He drank his coffee before it was cool.’

And smile proudly at it. Your small handwriting is getting better– Bucky barely has to squint at it this time, and he gives you a conspirator’s smile when he slides his twenty-dollar bill across the counter at you, with the neatest print writing along the margins.

‘What do you call an alligator detective?

An investi-gator.’

It’s cute and you snicker to yourself as you gather his change and place it gently in his gloved hand. He doesn’t retreat to his corner right away, though, and shuffles in place. “I was…I just wanted to say…” But then his eyes glance to your side and his face freezes in an unfortunately familiar way. “Thank you for the coffee,” he says woodenly and raises his cup just so.

“Of course. Have a nice day,” you say as robotically as possible and watch him go. Your supervisor clears his throat pointedly and you pretend like the place isn’t as clean as it was since the last time you went around. But now you’re thinking. About how awkward Bucky looked, and how he mentioned wanting to say something…maybe…maybe he is open. To you. Potentially.

Tomorrow, you decide with a thrill of nauseating adrenaline. Tomorrow you’re going to bring it up.

~

The next day you arrive at the shop at your usual time in the pre-dawn cold only to find an extra padlock on the door and a note in the window.

You stare, dumbfounded, and read the note. You read it again. And again.

‘Out of Business.’

But nobody called you.

You immediately grab your phone and dial your supervisor’s number. When he doesn’t pick up you call it again because this cannot be real. The job was shit but it was a job, and you knew what to expect, and you’ll never see Bucky again, will you?

It takes almost half an hour for the asshole to pick up– or maybe more, as the sun is starting to show up– and upon answering, he snaps, “What?!”

“What happened?” you ask, just as unkindly.

Your boss grumbles unintelligibly but you wait. “Did you see the sign?”

“I was working yesterday; no one mentioned anything about this.”

“Corporate called last night.” He yawns loudly. “I tried to call you.”

That’s a lie if you’ve ever heard one, but your tongue gets tripped up in anger and he says, “Sorry but there’s no room at the other branches for you, your last check is in the mail,” and hangs up.

You stand there for a while, trying to blink away tears at the sudden upheaval of your life. You should have found a replacement job while you had a chance. You should have asked your co-workers where they were going. You should have given Bucky your number.

You stand there for a little while, debating spending money you shouldn’t on a nice breakfast to wallow in, when the sound of footsteps coming up behind you makes you turn around.

“Oh, Bucky,” you say and rub your face. You think you’ve managed to hold it in, but it’s chilly and any exposed skin feels frozen.

“What’s going on?” he asks and peers around you at the note.

“Um…” You gesture uselessly. “Apparently this location is no longer in business. Just found out.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. “That asshole didn’t even call you?!”

The amount of anger on your behalf startles you. Startles both of you, actually, but just as he’s about to say something you laugh and say, “At least that asshole isn’t my problem anymore.” You sigh. You have savings, and the other job, and there’s always some other crappy job waiting for someone like you. But there’s something here that won’t be, and you pull out your phone and start typing. “Um…Bucky…there’s something I wanted to say to you. But it’s hard to say.”

“Okay?” he asks. You squeeze your eyes tight, brace yourself for impending rejection, and hold out your phone.

‘I like you a latte,’ followed by your phone number, hopefully gets the point across. After a few seconds your phone buzzes and you jump and bring it back, hoping no one texted you anything terrible while Bucky was staring at your phone.

It’s a new number, and the text reads, ‘It’s hard to espresso my feelings for you.’

You look up at him and he’s smiling, mouth parted slightly, and you start smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. But it’s okay. “I only had two more coffee jokes left before that line,” you confess and save his name to his number.

“Maybe you can tell them to me over breakfast? My treat,” he says and extends his arm.

You don’t even have to think about it. “Your treat this time,” you say, and link your arm with his. “In return, I’m going to show you where to get some good coffee.”

“Oh I don’t know,” he smirks at you. “The last place had its perks.”

Lacking a good comeback, you push your face into his shoulder to muffle your laughter. He leans into you, and doesn’t pull away even when you’ve gotten under control.

It’s the beginning of a brew-tiful relationship.

[imagineaworlds]

Rules & Roses

“you’re late”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual​

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing, mention of death. Pretty sure that’s it.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Non-binary!Reader x Emily Prentiss (poly triad)

Word Count: 2046

“You’re late,” I said to him while grinning. He shook his head, trying to stop himself from laughing so that he could focus on running up to me.

Aaron Christopher Hotchner was his name. Though I had learned a lot about him since we officially started talking on that cold Tuesday morning, I still thought of him as that six foot Nordic God. He hated that nickname, though. No matter how many times I used it, he never gave in, but I liked teasing him with it. Only two weeks had passed since we first started talking, and yet it seemed like we knew each other a lifetime. More than that, actually. My worries of talking to a stranger faded quickly the more we passed each other on the trail, then would chat as we walked to our cars. It was a nice, unspoken ritual we had. But it always started like this. No matter if it was warm or cold, sunny or cloudy, busy or quiet, we met at that park bench at the top of the U-turn. Usually, we ran beside each other, or he would be waiting up for me. This time, I was waiting on him. That wasn’t usual.

“How am I late?” he asked.

I looked at my watch. “It’s 7:17.”

“So?”

“You never reach the bench later than 7:15.”

Aaron smiled and put his hands on his hips to help him catch his breath. “Who’s stalking who now?”

“I never said you stalked me. Those are your own words.”

“Ha. Ha.” He panted for another second. “My son woke up late, so I got here late.”

I froze. During our little conversations here and there, he had never once mentioned anything about having a family. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, he seemed more than happy to flirt with me, and he never, ever said anything about having a son. This whole time, I thought he was an available man. I would have never flirted with him if I knew that he was taken, that he had other promises and responsibilities besides meeting me, practically a stranger, in the park every morning. Of course someone like him would have been snatched up by someone else. Of course the one person I saw myself potentially getting involved with since moving to D.C. was the one person I couldn’t have. My fucking luck, right? I was so stupid. How did I not see it before? Why did I get involved in all of this in the first place? I promised myself I wouldn’t talk to a stranger, and I broke that promise for him. I promised that I wouldn’t let my desperate urge for sex and love blind my ability to read social queues and dictate what was good and bad for me— and I fucking broke that promise. I saw him— I felt his hands on my hips— and everything I had learned from past experiences flew out the window. For a moment, for a blissful, wonderful moment, I forgot about Lauren because I had all of my focus on the Nordic God. A Nordic God that was taken. How fucking ridiculous.

Aaron sat down next to me. I scooted away, and he immediately noticed. A couple of days ago, I asked him what his job was at the FBI, and he told me that he studied the behavior of serial killers in order to find them. When he cracked a joke that his ability to “profile” serial killers was a curse that affected every aspect of his life, I asked him if he could profile me. Profiling was putting together all of the behaviors he spotted in someone in order to tell what kind of person they were, are, and could potentially be. Aaron laughed. He said that he had already profiled me the day we met. “Your eyes were on my friend the entire time,” he said. “Her name’s Emily, by the way.” So, that had confirmed that it wasn’t Lauren I saw. Though I was somewhat relieved, I was also disappointed, and Aaron noticed. He asked me why I was staring at her, and I simply dodged a real answer by telling him that I thought she was someone else. His profiling skills seemed to tell him I was lying. Despite the fact that he knew I wasn’t telling the truth, he didn’t pry. He never did. When I moved away from him on the bench, however, and he noticed, that was the first time I ever heard him get serious with me.

“What is it?” he asked me quietly and sincerely. I shook my head. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Why…” I hesitated for a beat. “Why would you keep flirting with me if—”

“My wife died years ago, Y/N. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

If I wasn’t embarrassed before, I was as red as a fucking tomato, and this time for all the wrong reasons. Originally, I had simply assumed that him having a son meant that he was still with someone. My first mistake. Then, I thought that it all meant that he didn’t like me, that he had been stringing me around for no reason, that maybe I was seeing between the lines. My second mistake. Now, I was embarrassed because I had made a complete fool of myself by tensing up at the thought of him having a kid— something I really didn’t mind, actually— and then I admitted that I thought he was flirting, all while practically pushing him away. I fucked this all up. Why was it that he made me trip over my tongue like this? I mean, he was always in my head since that first day we met and I felt his hands on my hips; and I found myself wanting to spend more time with him and impressing him. All of that had just been flushed down the drain. Any chance I had to keep being this happy and distracted had just disappeared because I had been stupid.

“I’m sorry.” I did a lot of compulsive apologizing around him. Because he made me trip over my own tongue, I always happened to say the wrong thing, so I constantly needed to apologize, which I could tell he found adorable, but I found it to be humiliating. “I didn’t mean to force that out of you.”

“It’s okay. It’s been so long, and I’ve had to tell so many people; I’m neutral about it these days.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“If you say sorry one more time, I’m going to start feeling bad.”

“Sorr—” I caught myself before laughing. “That’s going to be a bad habit to break.”

“All habits are hard to break.” He shrugged, leaned back, and looked forward to make the feeling between us casual again. “New rule, no more apologizing.”

Part of getting to know each other was making rules in order to make ourselves comfortable. I didn’t pry about his work, he didn’t ask me any more about his friend Emily. I didn’t stare below his belt (a personal rule I made for myself that I never disclosed to him), and he didn’t stare too long at my breasts when I would wear a low cut or tight shirt (a rule he made for himself that went unsaid). The rules would come up occasionally, but only when we were sitting on that park bench surrounded by roses. The parking lot, however, was fair game. Because that was the last time we would get to see each other until the next day, which was never guaranteed since he traveled so much— just like Lauren always did— we both got to break our staring rules until we would get into our separate cars. This new rule about apologizing didn’t seem like just a roses rule, though. If I had to guess, Aaron was going to keep an eye on me to make sure I wouldn’t  break this new rule.

I nodded. “Okay, fine. But, no more being late,” I said. He also nodded. “And, I need a 6AM warning every time you won’t be here.”

Aaron looked at me. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Phone,” I demanded while holding out my hand. Aaron urgently dug into his pocket, racing to grab his phone before I could change my mind about giving him my number. He was too chicken shit to ask for it, so I didn’t mind taking that first step for him. Afterall, it was the most I could do since I totally messed up by getting uptight about his son. Speaking of which, when I turned Aaron’s phone on, I saw a picture of him holding his son, both of them smiling ear to ear after what looked like a victory after one of his son’s soccer games. I felt myself melting. “He’s adorable.” He had blonde hair, which wasn’t like his dad at all, but the brown eyes, lips, and nose were all a mirror image of Aaron.

“His name’s Jack.”

“How old is he?”

“Nine.”

I smiled at him before looking back down to unlock his phone and put my information into the Contacts app. When I was done, I turned it off and handed it back to him. “There. Now you can text me at 6AM every time you know you’re not going to be here.”

“And what about… other than 6AM?” He was biting his lip again. I always knew that he was flirting with me when he would bite his lip like that. He was the professional profiler, yet he couldn’t have been more obvious. One would think that he knew how to hide his tells better than that, but he really seemed to suck at it. “Can I call you tonight, maybe?”

“For what?”

He hadn’t anticipated that I would nudge him back with a question. “I—” He didn’t know what to say. I giggled. “Is it too late to take my rule back so that I can say sorry for being too forward?”

“Yeah. It is. Sometimes it’s okay to be forward.” I stood from the bench, giving him the idea that it was time to go. He stood, too, taking my lead because he seemed like a lost puppy that needed to be told what to do. “I get off work at seven. You can call me for whatever it is you have on your mind any time after that.” I jumped on my toes to warm myself up, also testing to see just how long he could keep his eyes on mine and not one any other part of me that was a little more… distracting. “I’ll race you to the parking lot.”

“What happens if you win?”

“Who said there needs to be prizes?”

“The new rule I just made,” he said like it was a tease.

I squinted at him. “You can’t just make rules up for your benefit, Aaron.”

“Well, if you win, Y/N, I’ll stop making up random rules.”

“And if you win?”

I saw his answer coming from a mile away, but I still felt myself smiling when he said, “I take you out for dinner after our call tonight.”

“Deal.”

Aaron wasn’t prepared at all yet, but that didn’t stop me from beginning my dash down the path. Though I was inevitably going to let him win, I still had to put up somewhat of a fight to make his win believable. Aaron seemed to notice immediately. Before I could make it very far, he was already speeding past me, intent on winning so  that he could take me to dinner. Dummy. I wasn’t trying very hard to win. He didn’t seem to notice, though,even as we reached the parking lot where he claimed his victory. He slowed to a stop. As I caught up, he turned around and smiled.

“You’re late,” he teased me.

I rolled my eyes. “Pick me up at eight.” I immediately started making my way towards my car, which gave Aaron the chance to break his rule so that he could stare at me for a little longer than he was supposed to. “And don’t be late!” I called back to him.

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

criminal minds family: @peggy1999​ @gorgeousdarkangel​  @alex--awesome--22​ @oceaneblu​ @brithedemonspawn​ @absolutemarveltrash​ @bshelley322​

[marvels-writings]

Could you do a “i fucking love you” “hang up, and tell me this when you’re sober” scenario with Maria being an absolute nervous person around the reader and of course, got drunk one night to tell the reader?🤗

A/N: this is for the anon who asked for the Maria writing, i was originally gonna write this later but here we are now

“So are you going to the party tonight?” Maria asked, resting her elbow on the corner of your desk, trying to look smooth but it quickly slid off, knocking her off balance and forcing her to stand straight.

You chuckled softly, causing Maria’s breath to hitch slightly as you packed up your things before looking at her, letting your hair down.

“Nope, I have too many reports that I procrastinated on.” You answered, putting the hair tie in your mouth before retying it into a ponytail and taking some strands out to frame your face before smiling up at Maria. “Are you?”

“Only because I didn’t procrastinate.” Maria smirked, you swatted her lightly on the arm for the remark, she laughed and walked you out the compound doors, bantering and joking about the day’s events, Maria wanted to drive you home and stay with you the rest of the day, but she knew she couldn’t, god she hadn’t even asked you out yet. 

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said, smiling at her one last time before getting in your car and driving off, missing the way she wasn’t able to stop looking at you until you drove off, she sighed and headed back inside. 

Though she would never admit it to anyone, she had been crushing on you for the past few months, almost a week after you came to work at the compound through Tony’s company and friendship with Pepper, you were good with people, honest, funny, stunning, a good fighter, basically all SHIELD needed, basically all Maria needed. 

“Someone has a crush.” Clint sang when he saw her, Maria glared at him to shut up, Clint smirked at the blush on her face before practically running off.

At least she had a party to look forward to, a party without you wasn’t much to look forward to though.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The party had gone way out of hand, somehow Clint and Natasha had convinced Maria to do shots and she had let them. Now, on her 5th shot she was almost blackout drunk, the team was chanting her to do more shots but all she wanted was you, all she wanted was for you to be chanting for her before taking her home.

After the 7th shot, she stopped and pulled out her phone, desperately wanting to hear your voice, if she heard Steve say ‘don’t wait’ one more time she was going to come over to your house and kiss you, instead, she was doing the next best thing.

After some help from Clint to dial up your number on her phone, she held her phone to her ear, waiting for you to pick up, you picked up after the 3rd ring, as always, Maria grinned at him before speaking. 

“Hey Maria, need me to pick you up again?” You joked, phone held in the crook of your neck as you continued filing, you were almost halfway through and you wanted to get it done before needing to postpone another party with Maria.

“That wouldn’t be so bad.” Maria confessed, slurring half her words before taking another shot, making the same sound as people did in Coke ads and clicking her tongue after, the alcohol giving her courage to do what she had wanted to for the past few months. 

“I fucking, fucking  love you” Maria stuttered, nervousness still wracking her body through the alcohol.

The phone dropped from your neck as you grinned, you knew she had been crushing on you, the entire team had been telling you, you’d just been too chicken to tell her you felt the same way, but fear quickly took over you as you realized this could just be a drunk dare, you quickly picked up your phone.

“Hang up,” You commanded, hearing her sigh on the other end “, and tell me this when you’re sober”

“Yes ma’am.” Maria said before you heard the line end. 

You stared at the phone for another few minutes, scrolling back through the texts where Maria was asking you to go to the party without trying to seem desperate, you put down your phone and continued filing, unable to keep a huge grin off of your face the entire time, dreams of tomorrow keeping you awake.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Maria woke up in her bed with a huge headache, she looked around to find aspirin and water left on her side table and a note from Nat saying ‘your welcome’. There was a PS written by Clint which she decided to read after taking the aspirin and changing.

She changed out of the outfit she had worn to the party into some navy blue leggings and a black crew neck sweatshirt which kept slipping off of one shoulder, she tugged it back on and tied her hair in a messy ponytail before heading back over to the note, reading the PS while expecting something sarcastic.

It was a reminder to call you to tell you she loved you, Maria’s eyes widened as memories rushed back from yesterday, she sprinted around her apartment looking for her phone despite her headache, she found it in the pocket of the jacket she had been wearing.

Maria called you as quickly as she could, fidgeting with her sleeves as her blue eyes darted nervously everywhere, you picked up after the second ring this time.

“Hey.” You greeted softly, you’d been cooking breakfast and pacing while waiting for her call, if she remembered that was.

“Hi, so uh.” Maria hesitated, running a hand through her hair in stress, she couldn’t bring herself to say it again, she bit her lip.

“You had something you wanted to say?” You asked, Maria could practically hear you smirking on the other end, she rolled her eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Iloveyou.” she said, hoping you’d catch what she said and you did, you grinned with relief, it wasn’t just a drunk lie.

“Honestly I’m surprised you remembered,” You joked, Maria laughed nervously as anxiety built up in her chest. “And I love you too.”

Maria grinned, thinking of all the time she had wasted in telling you this, but at least she wasn’t going to waste anymore time.“Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?” Maria asked, a little less nervous than before but still nervous.

“You can come over for breakfast if you want.” You offered, then smirked. “I know the only thing you can cook is cereal.”“Only if you have black coffee.” Maria joked, already getting her car keys to drive over to your place.

“I have breakfast too.” You answered, laughing and holding the phone in the crook of your neck while flipping the pancakes before turning on the coffee machine.

“I’ll be there in 10.” Maria said, about to end the line before you spoke.

“And you can take me out to dinner after that.” You joked, hearing Maria laugh before ending the line.

Maria grinned while driving to your place, looking forward to finally dating you, maybe all the shots had been a good idea, she had never even thought it would end up like this, but it ended up amazing, you were amazing.

A/N: Here you go anon, feedback is amazing

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart  , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

[avengerscompound]

Catch and Release - 6

Catch and Release: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  2000

Rating:  M

Square filled:  @star-spangled-bingo​ - Resting a Head on their Shoulder

Warnings:  Sex talk, mentions of sex, and threats of violence

Synopsis: When you overexert yourself on a mission with Steve and Bucky, the boys admit to having fantasies that involve you.  Fantasies that you share.  But with one Super Soldier needs intimacy and the other is still dealing with being touch starved, exploring those desires without anyone catching feelings is a little tricky.

Chapter 6: Reeling Them In

You woke up to the sounds of Steve moving around the room and for a moment you panicked.  You sat up and threw up your hands, looking around the room that definitely wasn’t yours.  Bucky startled beside you and fell out of the side of the bed, doing a forward somersault and landing ready to lunge.  “What the hell?  What’s going on?”  He said as Steve started laughing.

“Nothing, but that was really entertaining,” Steve answered as he pulled on a compression shirt.  “It’s time to get up anyway.   We have time for a quick breakfast before we’re needed down at training.  And you -” he said nodding in your direction.  “- Need to get to physio.”

“Right.  Yes.”  You said, rolling out of bed.

Bucky ran his hand through his hair.  “Do I have time for a shower?”

“Depends on what you want to eat.  But we can take one together after training if you like.”  Steve said as he disappeared into the bathroom

You wrapped a sheet around you and started collecting up your clothes, wishing you'd considered how awkward it would feel to wake up naked and then need to dress in front of two guys who you weren't in a relationship with before you'd fallen asleep. It was weird.  They'd seen you naked.  They'd both been inside you, multiple times.  But now the sun was up and they were Bucky and Steve again.  Your friends, not your lovers.  Worse than that.  They are Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes.  And you were naked.

Plus your cunt ached from last night.  And you had hickeys on your breasts and inside your thighs.  Probably your neck too but you hadn't seen yourself yet to assess the damage.  And you were going to have to do the walk of shame back to your apartment in your clothes from last night and change because there was no way you could go to physio in the black lace thong, push up bra and cocktail dress you'd worn here in the first place.

You started to dress while continuing to attempt an iota of modesty.

“You like blueberries in your pancakes?” Bucky asked as he started getting dressed into sweats.

“Who me?” You asked.

Bucky laughed.  “Yeah, you.  I’ve known Steve likes blueberries for a while now.”

“I’m staying for breakfast?”  You asked.

“You don’t have to.  But… yes?”  Bucky said.  “What’s happening right now?”

“I just… have to shower and change and I don’t have clothes here.”  You said.

Steve appeared again and tapped his watch.  “Running out of time if you want pancakes.”

“Right.  You talk to her.  I’m putting blueberries in them.”  Bucky said, dashing out of the room as he pulled on a t-shirt.

Steve looked over at you as you stood, shimmying back into the dress.  “Did something happen?”

“Bucky asked me to stay for breakfast.” You said.

Steve looked at you with an expression of confusion written on his face.  “And?”

“I just wasn’t expecting it.  And I gotta get ready.”  You said, turning around.  “Can you zip me up?”

Steve stepped up behind you and placed his hand on the middle of your back to hold the fabric in place as he slid the zip up.  “You have more time than us to get ready.  So you don’t have to worry.  There’s no obligation though.  If you’re feeling uncomfortable after last night…”

You let out a breath.  “I guess… it was just weird.  We haven’t woken up together like that before.  It’s always just wham-bam-thank you, fellas.  Talk later.  And then later we’re back to just friends.  But I don’t sleep naked with any other friends.”  You shook your head.  “Sorry, I feel like I’m making it worse because I’m having trouble explaining it.”

Steve opened his arms to you and you moved into them, letting him engulf you in a hug.  You rested your head on his shoulder and breathed him in.  He still had the faint smell of sex, though you could tell he’d tried to cover it.  The scent of soap and sweat and old spice didn’t quite mask it.  “I understand,” he said gently.  “I wake up early to take a run before training.  This morning I kept thinking I was glad you were still asleep so I could change without worrying about trying to cover up.”

You laughed.  “Man.  Gonna have to try and not do the sleepover thing, huh?”

“We’ll figure out what works for us,” Steve said, rubbing your back.  “I know this isn’t really the same thing, but when Bucky and I finally admitted that maybe we wanted to be more than friends, everything was awkward.  We grew up together and now suddenly we’re kissing and sharing a bed and we’re having to figure out what we like and when we’re both ready for it.  We were apologizing to each other for stupid things like walking in when one of us was changing when before we were a couple we just changed in front of each other.  But if we keep doing this - which maybe we won’t - but if… we’ll work it out. Just gotta accept that sometimes it’s going to be awkward because it’s not how it usually is.”

“You’re so wise, Steve,” you said, playfully.

“Don’t say it like that, it makes me sound old,” Steve said, pulling back and looking down at you with his hands on your arms.

“You are old, grandpa,” you teased.  “So breakfast?”

“Do you want some of Bucky’s pancakes?  They are his specialty.”

You nodded.  “Well, how can I refuse that?”

The three of you ate together and the awkwardness you had been feeling dissipated.  By the time you all headed out to the elevator to start the day it was just back to being the same old friends dynamic you had always shared with them.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal Clint leaning against the back wall.  He nodded to the three of you and then startled, jumping up so he was standing to attention.

“Clint,” Steve said getting on the elevator.  “Nice to see you on time for a change.”

You hit the number for your floor as everyone turned and faced the doors.

“I’m not, Cap.  You’re late.”  He said.

“You’re still on daylight savings time, dumbass,” Bucky said.

“Aww, man,” Clint whined, leaning back against the wall again.  “I could have slept in.”

There was a tap on your shoulder and you leaned back to see Clint looking at you with his eyebrows raised.  ‘Did you…?’ he mouthed, gesturing to Steve and Bucky.

You bit your bottom lip and winked at him.

“Nice,” Clint said.

“What was that?”  Steve asked as the elevator stopped on your floor.

“Oh, nothing.  Just thinking about coffee.”  Clint joked and held his fist out to you.  You bumped it as you got off the elevator.  “See you guys later.”

“Good luck with your physio,” Bucky called as the doors closed.

You went and showered and changed into your workout clothes before heading down to physio.  It went as well as expected considering how bowlegged you were walking today.  When you got back to your apartment you found Natasha sitting on your kitchen bench slicing up a mango with a knife, nearly giving you a heart attack.

“Jesus Christ, Nat!”  You cursed.  “Just let yourself in!”

“I will, thank you,” Natasha said, flipping one cheek of the fruit inside out and biting a piece of flesh from it.  “Clint told me he saw you doing the walk of shame this morning.”

“Stride of Pride, more like it.”  You said going to your fridge grabbing a Gatorade from the fridge and opening it.

“So it’s true? You did tell him you’ve been sleeping with Steve and James?”  Natasha asked, slipping off the counter.

“Well, technically I winked at him.  But essentially, yes.”  You said.

“You do realize that everyone knows now?  How do you think that’s going to make them look? Or you for that matter?”  Natasha snapped.

“Like a couple of studs and one lucky bitch?”  You deadpanned.

“Steve Rogers is Captain America!  You think it’s just okay for rumors to be spread around like that?  How do you think he’s going to take it when he finds out you told Clint?”  She said.

“Go ahead, tell him.”

“You think I won’t?” She said, getting out her phone.  “You think I’m going to protect you here?”

“Tell him, Nat.  He said he doesn’t care if people know.”  You said.

She started dialing her phone as she glared at you.  “You want to play chicken with me?  I’m going to tell him.”

You shrugged and sipped your drink.

“So this is just a big joke to you?”  Natasha said, slamming her phone onto the counter.  You wanted to laugh.  She was trying so hard not to yell.  It was like she’d entered some weird mom mode you’d never seen before and she was a moment away from grounding you.

“Natasha!  What’s the big deal?  We slept together.  We’re adults.  We decided to have a little fun.  Like you’ve never had a threesome before.”  You said.

“Oh slept together?  Like one time?  And those two other times you did it were just coincidence and this isn’t becoming a habit?”  Natasha snarked.

“Jesus!  Natasha!”  You yelped.  “It was actually only twice if you must know.  Though I guess it depends how you count it, cause last night, it was so many times… I’m still hurting.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, letting you know that it didn’t matter how many times you made a joke of this, she was dead serious.

You sighed and took a long drink from your bottle, the room falling into an icy silence.  “Bucky and Steve wanted to try some stuff out.  I liked the sound of it.  We’ve just been messing around.  It’s fine.  We’re adults.  We can fuck each other every which way we want.  We’re allowed.”

“You forget I know those men.  You know how many people I tried to set Steve Rogers up with?  He doesn’t just sleep around.  And James!  The shit James has been through!” She said, folding her arms over her chest.

“Oh.  My.  God!  Natasha Alianova Romanova!  Assassin and graduate of the Widow Program!  This is the shovel talk!  You, of all people, are giving me the shovel talk?!”  You teased.  “See, I would have expected Sam might do it if anyone was going to.  But you?  I can’t believe it.  We’re being careful.  We’re communicating what we need.  We’re just having some fun.  No one is accidentally falling in love and getting hurt.”

Natasha scowled and pulled herself up to her full height, puffing out her chest.  “You know as well as I do that if Steve Rogers is sleeping with you, he’s already caught feelings.”

“Nat, just tell me to not hurt your friends or you’ll kill me and get it over with.”  You huffed.

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips breathing heavily through her nose.  All at once she completely relaxed and shook her head.  “Well don’t or I will.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said.  “They’re my friends too and we’re being careful.  They just had some things they wanted to explore and they trust me to do it with.  We’re being very communicative and I promise, Steve said he didn’t care if people found out.  That we weren’t breaking any rules and none of us was a dirty little secret.  Okay?”

“Fine.”  She huffed.

“You want lunch?”  You asked going back to your fridge.

“Thanks.  That’d be good.”  She said.

“You owe me a mango, by the way.  Those things are expensive.”  You said as you began pulling things out of the fridge.

“Consider it payment for the fucking heart attack I had when Clint came running up to me at training with his ‘guess what’.  I think I aged 80 years.”

You chuckled and started making lunch deciding not to mention the heart attack she gave you by lurking in her kitchen canceled that out.  You might have pressed your luck with Nat already today.

// NEXT

[mrs-takami-keigo]

King of the Clouds

Hello all my fellow Hawks lovers! I decided to write a Hawks fanfic and I’m a little nervous about it because I haven’t written in about 6 years. So without further ado I give you King of the Clouds!

Description: She's a force to be reckoned with. She became the number three hero for a reason in the states, but why on earth is this lazy red winged boy in the number two spot. She's tired of him thinking he's the King of the clouds.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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Chapter one:

It was a quiet day for the No•2 hero. He’s only had a purse snatcher, a petty corner store robber and an old lady who had trouble picking her cart full of groceries up the stairs. The blonde male decided to perch himself on top one of the tallest buildings so he could keep and eye out one the city. ‘ I bet anything I look like some kind of weirdo sitting like this’. He sighed as he sat on the edge of the building instead to not look like some kind of Batman impersonator. Reaching into his pocket he took out his phone to see the time “It’s only 2:45 and I still have the rest of the day to do nothing.” Hawks sighed and he opened up the news app on his phone. Scrolling down the list of articles he saw that almost all of his colleagues were busy catching actual villains. Not that he should be complaining he always wanted to not be so busy but it was days like this where he wanted a little excitement. An article that was going on live caught his interest, he turned his phone sideways so he can watch the video on his whole screen ‘We’re here at shinjuku station where a villain has appeared! Hero’s are on the scene doing their best-‘

The reporter was interrupted by a huge explosion. The camera was shaky but it turned towards the sound and he saw this guy blast an entire building with just one hit, as soon as the villains hand made contact with the building you can see small ripples appear. “So it’s a super sonic quirk huh interesting.” Hawks mumbled to himself watching the rest of the live feed. ‘ He just took out a whole building with one strike! And it looks like some of the hero’s have been affected by his super sonic wave!!’

‘The revolution has begun meta humans will be back on top with no rules! Catch me if you can hero’s!’ and with that the villain shot into the sky causing more destruction to the surrounding area. The camera followed him and Hawks realized he wasn’t too far from that area and the direction that villain was going and his speed he knew he was gonna be pretty busy in a few minutes.

“Well looks like break time is over.” Putting his phone away the young man stood up stretching his arms and his red wings did the same shaking after being fully stretched. Squinting his eyes he saw a small speck coming in his direction. Smirking he crouched down ready to wait till the creep got closer to him before he took off in full force.

‘5,4,3,2,-‘ He was counting down ready for the take down when out of nowhere he felt a gust of hot wind which was odd considering it was still early spring and saw a flash. Pushing himself off the building he followed that bright light. Hawks had a hard time keeping up with it ‘who the hell is this?!’ He frowned as he tried to speed up. Everything happened so fast, the bright light caught up with the villain in mid air, and next thing he knew the villain was thrown to the ground causing what Hawks considered a small earthquake. He watched as the light hovered down, noticing that is was more like a ball of fire and not just a light. ‘Endeavor?’ He knew it couldn’t be cause Endeavor wasn’t faster than him. Flying closer Hawks was able to finally see a figure of a women, her hair blowing upward as she slowly went down towards the ground. Her right arm extended out as if to stay stop.

“It’s useless. I’m sure you feel that pressure that’s holding you down on you whole body, that’s me and your not going anywhere.” Her voice was very stern and cold as if she was ready to kill. “Stupid hero! The w-“ the villain stopped mid-sentence he was chocking. Hawks looked back at the women and saw her other hand looked like it was gripping something.’Was she choking him?’

“Yeah yeah we all heard it before it’s time for a nap big guy.” She held her hand position like that for another minute before he passed out. It wasn’t until then he realized she had flaming wings letting her float down to the ground next to the perpetrator, cops soon swarmed the unconscious male and handcuffing him before hauling him up and carrying him away.

Landing not that far away from the women Hawks finally was able to see her face fully and god was he surprised. She was stunning absolutely stunning.

“Miss! Miss! What is your name where did you come from?!”

“ Are you a new hero from UA?!”

“Are you single?!” Hawks watched as she was bombarded with questions from reporters and fans alike. She chuckled at the last question covering her mouth a little to hide her smile but Hawks still saw it.

“My name is Phoenix and I’m a new hero here in japan.” She bowed her head and that sent the crowed into a fit. Not only was she powerful and beautiful she was also respectful. “Please lean on me, I’m here for you!” She said with so much passion in her voice that even the red winged man had to applaud her like the rest of the crowd.

Hawks stood in the background as she answered more and more questions, not once did she sound unsure or confused. ‘The rookie has some talent.’ Having watched her he guessed she was around his age or maybe younger and from what he heard she’s from the state’s. ‘Interesting.’

“ I hate doing this but I have to leave now have to go fill out paperwork, you know the deal. I’ll be around so if you ever need help big or small just shout my name and I’ll be there.” She backed away from the crowd her flaming wings coming out of her back before she took of to the skies. Realizing this is his chance Hawks followed her leave but not before hearing people asking how long had he been standing there.

She wasn’t flying as fast as she was before making it easy for him to catch up with her. Right when he got close enough to call out to her he opened his mouth.

“So were you even trying to really catch that guy or not?” He heard her speak, it was an annoyed kind of tone. He stopped, hovering in the air staring at her. ‘Who in the hell?’ He thought to himself but he knew his face was saying it as well. Having stopped herself she turned towards him flying a little closer so they were in talking distance. “I mean for real you saw him coming, why wait that long?” She had crossed her arms staring at him

“Well nice to meet you too Kid. And I had it handled, just waiting for my moment to pounce.” He smirked floating closer to her until he was close enough to get a whiff of her perfume, ‘hmm spicy but still sweet.’

“First off Hawks,” his eyes widened he never said his name and from what he got when she was talking to the reporters she just got here late last night, “ take at least to flaps back and second I’m not a kid, trust me.”

Laughing he did what she said and took two flaps of his wings back. “ How do you know my name? When I just found out about yours from you interview down there.” He mirrored her stance.

“It’s my job to know all my co-workers names, especially boys like you.” She started to circle him, moving her legs as if she was walking on the ground. “Hero name, Hawks. Age,23. Height, roughly five foot eight. Favorite food, chicken. Quirk, fierce wings. You have the ability to have control of your feathers so they can assist you in saving people or to become weapons if need be.Also you have the ability to hear distant sounds because of your feathers. But the best fact of all,” she stopped right in front of him and was close, closer then he was to her before,” You are dangerous in many different ways, You’re a wild card.” She never broke eye contact when she said the last part. Hawks had to admit he was intimidated, very intimidated which never happens.

He didn’t want her to know that he was intimidated he smirked at her, “Okay so you had access to a computer is that supposed to scare me, Phoenix?”

She put her arms on his shoulders bringing him closer to her leaning towards his ear. “Oh no my little dove I’m just trying to tell you I’m just as dangerous, Keigo.” His eyes widened in shock. She used his real name! ‘How did she know my real name?! Who the fuck was she?!’

Pushing away from her he looked at her with a serious face. “Who are you?!”

Her face turned serious as well staring him down she said in a voice that sent chills down his spine,”Next time you have to stop a villain don’t be lazy, just get the job done.” She turned and flew away just as fast as she came.

Hawks was tempted to follow her but first he had to pay a visit to the hero’s organization and ask them exactly how the hell she knew his name.

‘Dear lord if I have to answer anymore are you single questions I’m gonna scream.’ Phoenix ran her right hand through her burgundy curls while her left hand took her phone out of her belt. She saw messages from her parents and friends from back home but what caught her attention was the five missed calls from her uncle. Rolling her eyes she could already tell he was pissed that she took down some wannabe when he specifically told her to lay low till he introduced her. But she couldn’t help it, she saw it on the news when she was settling everything in her office back at the agency and her hero instincts kicked in. Sure she wasn’t positive where the fight was happening but that’s what her gps on the phone was for.

Deciding the best thing to do was to call the hot headed number one hero back. The phone never had a proper chance to ring before she heard his booming voice over the small phone,” Didn’t I tell you not to go do anything yet?!”

“Oh simmer down will you everything is fine. I’m okay and the guy is in jail.” She said while she walked down the street getting glances from people on the streets. Some were questioning and some were of people that must have seen her on tv already. “I’m on my way back to the agency is Shouto there?” Smiling as she said that cause she knows if she brings him up her uncle would lose focus on her and talk about his pride and joy.

“Yes he’s here! He thought you were gonna be here as well but nope you took off without saying a damn thing!” Wincing she didn’t know he’d be that mad at her.

“Can you put him on the phone please?”

“What for?!”

“Just do it flame head!” She yelled in the phone. Sometimes anger issues run in the family and if there was one person she could always get mad at it was her anger management poster child of an uncle.

“Hello?” She heard her cousins monotonous voice making her smile. She loved her cousins but Shouto was like a little brother to her.

“I’m heading back, want me to pick up some cold soba noodles for you?”

“You don’t have to.” He was always a sweet boy that was one of the reasons she always felt compelled to protect him.

“Don’t worry I got you. I’ll be there in about ten minutes okay. Oh and tell your father to chill.” She heard him chuckle before hanging up.

Looking up the closest soba place on her phone she found one not to far. Taking a breath and closing her eyes she jumped up and her wings sprouted from her back letting her take off into the sky. Flying was her favorite thing to do and the sky in japan was different than back home. Here it was more peaceful and clearer, she smiled when she saw a bird flying next to her.

‘Who are you?!’ his voice rang in her head. Hawks, he was gonna be a handful. Her face frowned when she remembered seeing him there just sitting knowing that the villain wasn’t too far from him. Her research told her that he could reach over 100 mph on a slow day so for him not to do a damn thing was sickening to her. If there is a person doing evil things you are supposed to stop it not just wait for your time to pounce as he likes to say. But she did have to admit he wasn’t that bad on the eyes so if they had to be in the same business at least she had something to look at. Shaking her head of anymore thoughts on that red winged bimbo she flew faster passing the bird the was taking a nice fly with her.

Phoenix POV

“Anybody order a cold soba to go?” I said while holding up the bags of food I got from the restaurant. My little cousin turned his head away from his father who looked like he was explaining something to him.

“It’s about time you showed up Phoenix.”

“God Endeavor lay off will you and just spend time eating with us before we go back to the house.” I said while pulling the food out of the bags. I gave Shouto his food smiling at him. He looked at me and smiled back, it was a small one but you knew that he had a hard time expressing himself. My heart hurt for him sometimes, I knew what my uncle put him and my other cousins through not to mention my poor aunt. I’ve learned of his monstrous ways when my family came to visit a little after he sent his wife away, I was about 18 when it happened so I was fully aware of the situation.My mother smacked him but me, well let’s just say it was a dark time.

“I saw the footage and the interview.” Me and Shouto looked up from our food when we heard his father speak, “ I may not have liked you going off on your own but you did an amazing job Quinn.”

“Thank you uncle. And next time I’ll listen to you.” We may have our differences and I may have my reservations about my uncle. I still respected him as a hero and I know he is trying to make his family proud of him despite of what he did in his past.

He nodded his head at me while stuffing a dumpling into his mouth. “Did you run into and other hero’s.”

“Yeah.” I swallowed the noodles that were in my mouth. “Hawks. Can you believe he didn’t react to the villain that was so close to him. He was just sitting there ‘waiting to pounce’ that’s what he said to me.”

“He may come off as lazy and aloof but take him seriously. He’s number 2 for a reason.His skills are almost the same levels as you child.” I gave him a questioning look. I’ve never heard him actually compliment someone other than his son. I leaned over the desk that was between us pinching his cheek.

“What are you doing!” He swatted my had away rubbing the bruised area.

“I’m just checking if your really my uncle Enji is all. You never just compliment someone.”

“All I’m saying is there is a reason for everything. Don’t judge a book by its cover.” When he said that I heard my cousin scuff and mutter some not so great things under his breath. “Knowing you, you were probably rude to him weren’t you?” Out of all the people to know you well your uncle had to be the one.

“He deserved it!” I knew I was pouting I couldn’t help it that man irked me to my core for some reason.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do seeing as your almost thirty but just give him a second chance.” I nodded my head. I knew he was right but there are somethings I can’t look past.

“Let’s finish our food so you can go change and get ready for the party. Shouto will go with you back to the house.” Now that put a smile on my face. My uncle set up a party with some of the people at the agency and the organization to introduce me to them.

“Hey little cousin you ever fly before?” That was the first time I’ve seen him show a big smile in a long time.

‘Phoenix? We don’t really have anything on her other than she’s from the states and has a license.’ They were of no help to him. He had been flying around for a while now, pulling his phone out he saw that his patrol was over now.

He landed on top of an apartment building, not really ready to go home yet. “She knew I was there before I even had Time to register that she flew past me.” He spoke out loud to himself. Unlocking his phone he went on to the internet and typed in her name.

He clicked the first video that popped up and it was of a major disaster somewhere in America.

‘The building off of 54th street is currently on fire and it seems like firefighters are having trouble controlling the flames!’ Hawks watched the video closely, people were screaming and running. It looked like a fairly tall building with a lot of offices in them. He saw people dangling on the fire escape or contemplating on jumping.

‘Look it’s Phoenix!’ The camera man zoomed out pointing the lens towards the sky. There she was just like how she looked today, powerful and beautiful. He paid attention when she raised her hands facing the building and closed her eyes. She was concentrating, soon he realized she was checking to see how many people were in the building. Taking her left hand she pulled it towards her body and you can see the people trapped in the building come out as if they were being held up by a string. Phoenix guided all the people down to safety where the medics were waiting but the fire was still out of control.

‘She’s gonna use her power move! Every one get back!!’ an officer yelled to the crowed. Then she did the most astonishing thing he may have ever seen. Her eyes started to glow as she took a deep breath. The flames seemed to start blowing towards her. Soon it was as if Phoenix was pulling the fire to her and she absorbed it her body being engulfed in the flames. When the building seemed like it wasn’t on fire anymore Phoenix shot up into the sky. Next thing Hawks saw on the screen she turned into the big ball of pure light her body took in all those flames.

Then there was silence ‘She has done it again pro hero Phoenix has saved the city and its civilians! We can always count on our beacon of safety, our beacon of light! Phoenix!’ Hawks was amazed she hovered down to the ground to go make sure everyone that was being checked on by the medics was okay and to talk to the firefighters that were on the scene. The last frame was a close up of her face hugging a small child that had a doll of her favorite hero in her hands, Phoenix. But that’s not what caught the young mans attention, it was her face. He can see she took a lot of damage with that move, yes it’s very powerful but it took a lot of her basic energy.

“You’re so well loved there why would you leave?” He needed to know more about her, thinking he thought of the only person who might know and flew in that direction.

It didn’t take the winged hero long before he got to destination. Landing on the balcony of the building he just let himself in.

“Hey Endeavor! I got a question for you.” The older hero didn’t even jump it was almost routine for the kid to come and bother him at least once a day.

“What do you want Hawks?” Endeavor never looked up from his paper work.

“I need to know if you have any information on the hero named Phoenix.” Hawks took a seat in the chair across the hero’s desk.

Sighing he knew this was gonna happen especially after his wonderful niece said she had a run in with him. “How about you come back here at 7 and I’ll be able to tell you everything about her, she’s a handful. Just go home and shower you look and smell awful.”

Smiling Hawks got up, “Aw Endeavor didn’t know you cared about my well being. But I’ll be back 7 sharp.” Leaving the way he came in Hawks couldn’t help but smirk.

“The next time we meet Phoenix, I’m gonna be the one to intimidate you. Looks like you messed with the wrong bird chickadee.”

Phoenix pov

I was in the car sent by my uncle on my way to the event. Crossing my legs I looked out the window watching as the city passed me by. I thought back to after me and Shouto left the agency I flew both of us back to the Todoroki house.

“How was your first flight on Air Force Phoenix?” I gently put him down on the ground soon following suit.

“It was really fun Quinn. To see the city like that was something special.” I heard his low voice say as we climbed up the stairs.

“I knew you would like it.” I stopped on the top of the stairs before we walked in the house, I stopped him.

“Hey Shouto come here.” I motioned him with my hands to come closer. When he did I realized he wasn’t as little as he used to be. He had at least two inches over me. My arms found their way around his neck as I pulled him into a hug. I haven’t seen him since the incident I feel as if I couldn’t protect him. It was hard enough on me when Touya ran away I couldn’t let anything happen to Shouto too.

I felt his arms wrap around me hugging me really tight. His face buried in my shoulder. Stroking the back of his hair I felt the tears leave his eyes.

“It’s okay I’m here now. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” It hurt my heart to see him like this but I knew he wasn’t close to his siblings cause his father kept him in training but I made sure I texted him called him anything his father wasn’t going to stop me.

I pulled away from him making him look at me. “Now let’s get that face all washed and cleaned before you head back to the dorms okay?” He nodded at me and we walked through the door where I was greeted by my two other cousins.

Smiling to myself it felt nice to be here but I know the homesickness will hit me hard.

“Miss we’re here.” The driver brought me back to reality as he opened my door and helped me out of the car.

“Thank you sir.” I flashed him a sweet smile only to see the older man have a slight blush hit his cheeks.

Walking up to the building the doors opened automatically. The windows were so tinted you couldn’t see from the outside but the inside was gorgeous. Tall ceilings, wooden molds and accents throughout the lobby and some desks were some of the sidekicks sat. Pressing the up button to call the elevator I checked myself in the reflection of the metal doors. Nodding in approval I smirked. ‘Still a bad bitch Quinn.’ The room was full of people some people dressed for the occasion which was semi formal or people still in there costumes. As soon as I stepped off the elevator I felt everyone’s eyes on me.

“There you are Phoenix!” I let out a sigh of relief when I saw Endeavor making his way to me. He was still in his costume that man never stopped for a second. “I didn’t know so many people were gonna be here.” I said through my teeth at him. The amount of people in the room made it look like this was the hero billboard announcements. “Well word got out that this was for you and after your little stunt today everyone wanted to see the new bird in the sky. I know you hate crowds this big but let’s just try to get through it together.” I knew he wasn’t one for a large amount of people either. Smiling at him I hooked my arm in his as we made our way around the room greeting my new Colleagues.

An hour passed and I was still making my way around the room introducing myself to everyone. I was on my second gin tonic for the night cause we all knew I was gonna need it. Some of the people I met were really nice, but I did come across a few male hero’s that wanted more than just my name and quirk. Some of them were very much up front about it but the minute Endeavor came near me they would scatter like roaches.

“Hey uncle can I use you office for a second?” I need a moment to myself and he understood that. Nodding he guided me to his office so that no one would bother me as I made my way there.

Closing the door behind me I exhaled. At lot happened in a matter of twenty four hours, I moved to a new country, made an apprehension had a reunion with my cousins then had to come here and talk to people.

“This jet lag is kicking my ass.”sighing I plopped down on my uncle’s chair leaning back. I closed my eyes, I’ll just stay here for about thirty minutes.

I was sitting there for only ten minutes when I felt a cold breeze shoot through the room. Shivers went up my spine, if someone was trying to break in I’d have to stop them just wish it didn’t have to be in my skirt and heels. I heard someone shuffle in the door that was connected to the balcony. Trying to be as quick and as silent as I could I snuck around the chair. It was dark in the room and I couldn’t really see who it was, didn’t matter there was a lot of important people here I had to get a handle on the situation before anyone finds out.

Pressing my back against a wall that was covered on the darkness I stalked closer to the intruder. I could tell it was a male by the figure, when I was close enough I used my powers to throw the jerk to the ground on his back. Moving quickly I stepped on the his chest with my heels. I used my right hand to form a fire ball pointing it to the intruders face.

“Whoa there fire bird it’s just me!” I recognized that voice. Oh shit! “Hawks?!” “I don’t mind the view from down here but you might have a problem with it.” He smirked up at me.

Shoving him with my heel I took my foot off his chest. He was coughing and rubbing the wounded area.

“Why would you sneak into an office like that?” I went to go turn on the lights while he peeled himself off the floor.

“Why were you sitting here in the dark?” He finally lifted his head up to look at me and I could see in his eyes he was shocked. I watched as his eyes traveled up from my black open toed heels to my black leather skirt that came up right above my knees, up to my off the sleeve white lace top.

“Hey bird brain my eyes are up here.” The look he had was the same look the other guys out there had in their eyes. Before he could say anything Endeavor opened the door. Both our heads turned to him as he looked at us.

“Hawks, late as usual.” I watched my uncle close the door behind him as he made his way to stand in between us. Taking this moment to actually look at the young pro hero in front of me. I guess he didn’t get the memo about this being a semi formal event. I’m pretty sure my uncle forgot to mention that to him. He stood there black doc martens on his feet, dark blue jeans that weren’t too tight and not to baggy on his lower half. A nice black v neck t-shirt and a leather jacket over his shoulders. But what really got me was the accessories he was wearing, a silver necklace with what looked like wings hung from his neck, about three silver stud earrings in each ear and rings on his fairly large fingers. If this was a different setting and I didn’t know him and he wasn’t so much younger than me he may have had a chance. I shook my head trying to clear it of those thoughts.

“There was traffic?” Hawks shrugged his shoulders smiling at the older hero.

“Well you made it just in time anyway both of you come out. Phoenix let’s get you to make a speech.”

I turned and made my way out the door never giving Hawks a second glance but I could feel his eyes on me.

Following Endeavor up to the podium In the front of the room Hawks was right behind us. Climbing up the stairs I stood next to Endeavor as he started his introduction.

“Thank you for joining me on this special occasion. I would like to welcome a new hero to my agency, my niece Quinn or as you all may know her after her debut today Phoenix!” Everyone in the room applauded me as I made my way to the mic but not before passing a glance to Hawks who looked like the wind had been knocked out of him.

I stood in front of the crowed showing them my brightest smile. “It’s my pleasure to be here. There is nothing I enjoy more than saving civilians and taking out villains. From this moment on I have everyone in this room backs as we work together to fight the evil that’s in this world.” Bowing to the crowed I walked off the stage making my way to the shocked Hawks.

“Seems like we know each other now don’t we Keigo?” I whispered in his ear as I passed him letting my fingers play with the chain that was hanging around his neck for a second before I walked to the group of reporters that seemed like they had questions for me.

———————————————— I know it’s long trust me but I really wanted you to get a feel of who Quinn is and the dynamic between her and Hawks. Like and comment! Comments let me know that people actually like my writing lol.

[jackiejacks923]

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Prompt: “This isn’t what I wanted” - @challengingwords

Pairing: Jimin x reader

A/N: I know I’ve written a piece inspired by my little one. Then, when I was trying to figure out the next idol to write for, I realized I haven’t written one inspired by my older one. She turned 18 last month and I know she’s super eager to finally make her own money and start college life. Kinda hard with how times are now, but I had her in mind when I wrote this. I hope you all have a great Friday and you enjoy this piece <3

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You walked onto the dining floor of the diner you worked at and saw that it was pretty slow, especially for a Sunday morning. You must’ve missed the rush of all the partygoers nursing hangovers, which was fine and all, but it means you wouldn’t get as many tips as you would during that rush. As you were filling up the napkin holders, the hostess was escorting a big party into your assigned area. A party of all males wearing matching logos that showed up in different sizes on different parts of the garments they wore...a fraternity. Once she finished distributing the menus, she looked over to you and gave you a wink. Clearly she knew you had missed out on the tip rush and this was her gift to you.

You grabbed the wrapped up silverware and made sure you had your pad and pencil in hand before making your way to the full table. You smiled and greeted the guys at the table as you passed out the utensils. Your eyes then landed on a familiar face.

“Hi, Jimin,” you greeted as your smile grew bigger, “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Morning, Y/N,” he greeted back as a light shade of pink appeared on his cheeks.

Jimin had been having breakfast at the diner practically every other day for the past few months. He was usually alone, so if the day wasn’t too busy, you guys managed to talk for a few about this and that. You found out he was a dance major while you were a business major at the same college. Since the departments are at opposite ends of the campus, so the only times your paths would cross is at the diner.

“Jimin, did you put makeup on? Your cheeks are pink all of a sudden,” one of his friends teased which just made the color in his cheeks darken in shade.

“Is this the same Y/N that you’ve been going on about?” another had asked him not so very discreetly. A pained expression then showed up on this friend’s face.

Jimin nervously chuckled. “Don’t listen to what these idiots are saying, Y/N,” he warned, “They’re still a bit hungover.”

You smiled politely and nodded. “I’ll give you guys a few minutes to look over the menu and I’ll go get water for the table,” you informed them and walked away.

Once safely tucked behind the drink machine away from the eyes of the table, you took a deep breath. He talks about me?! you thought to yourself as you filled glasses of water. A shy smile then formed on your face and you bit your lip to stop it from getting too big. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find Jimin attractive and the short conversations you’ve had the past few months were very memorable and you always regretted not being able to have more time with him before he left. Plus there was the fact that you too were talking about him to your bff whenever he came in and was positive she might be sick of the stories by now.

You took another deep, collective breath before taking your tray of water glasses back to the table. You passed out the glasses with a smile on your face and then took out your notepad and pen and asked, “So are we ready?”

You went around the table taking order after order. You were scribbling seat positions with their corresponding orders then finally came to Jimin. “The usual, Jimin?” you asked him. He smiled at you and nodded as he handed over his menu.

“What’s Jimin’s usual, Y/N?” his friend teased while wagging his eyebrows at him.

“Scrambled eggs, bacon and a side of pancakes with a hot chocolate,” you recited as you pocketed your notepad and walked away proudly with a smile. You heard taunting from behind you as you walked over to the waitress station to punch in the orders.

Having ears like a hawk, and the fact that the guys didn’t necessarily speak in hushed tones, you overheard the conversation from where you were at.

“She memorized your order, Jimin, I’m sure that means something,” one of the guys said.

“She’s a waitress, Kai,” Jimin argued, “Of course she’d memorize my order considering how many times I’ve been her and I order the same thing every time.”

“But didn’t you see how her eyes lit up when she saw you?” another friend commented.

“She smiled at all of us, Tae,” Jimin pointed out.

“It was different when she looked at you though,” Tae countered.

God am I that obvious, you scolded yourself as you turned the corner to wait for your orders to plate up. With all the teasing that’s been happening with Jimin and his friends you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was interested. Or maybe it was just your head jumping the gun and getting your hopes up. After a few minutes of being lost in your thoughts, the bell rang signaling you that a plate has been finished. It wasn’t long until a few more plates followed. You grabbed as many as you could that would fit on your tray and began serving Jimin’s friends. After a couple of trips, all the plates were served to their designated patron.

The rest of the meal went pretty ordinarily. After Jimin and his friends ate their fill and processing their payment, you left the folder with the receipt for them to sign and told them to take their time. You were just finishing taking an order for a table when Jimin and his friends started to exit. They all expressed their gratitude for the service and pleasantries in meeting you. You wished them farewell as they exited out the door. Jimin was the last at the table.

“Thanks for putting up with them,” Jimin said to you as he put his jacket on.

“It’s my job,” you said as you smiled and collected the empty plates on the tray.

He smiled back. It looked like he wanted to say something, but hesitated. Instead, he handed you the check folder. “I’ll see you for breakfast next time.”

“I’ll see you then,” you smiled back as you received it and he walked away to join his friends.

You dropped off the bin of dirty dishes to the kitchen and then took the receipt to add to the stack by the register. When you opened the folder, you found a very generous cash tip and a note on the extra receipt.

Y/N, give me a call sometime. ~Jimin

Below it was a number on the line designated for the tip. You blushed. This has never happened to you before, but it made you smile because it was Jimin. If you were being honest with yourself, you were hoping he would personally ask you for your number and have him call you while you wait by your phone all day, but this way is good, too. You placed the note in your pocket along with the cash tip. You were counting down the minutes until your shift was over now.

***

You stepped out into the cool air as the sun set off in the distance. You slung your bag containing your uniform over your shoulder and pulled out the note and your phone from your pocket. Took a few deep breaths as you dialed the number and held it while it rang.

“Hello?” Jimin said after a few rings.

“Hi, Jimin? It’s Y/N,” you replied after you exhaled and slowly began your walk home.

“Y/N?!” Jimin exclaimed, “Hi! How did you get my number?”

“On the receipt,” you answered a little confused, “I’m sorry. The note was signed by you. I assumed you wanted me to call.”

“This isn’t what I wanted,” he responded, sounding a little embarrassed.

“Oh,” you whispered and took a moment to think of something to say.

“No, I’m sorry,” Jimin apologized, “I didn’t mean it like that.” He sighed. “It must’ve been Tae or Kai that wrote the note. I didn’t want it to happen like this.”

“Oh?” was all you could think of to say.

“I wanted to ask you personally,” Jimin admitted. You smiled thinking about the thought you had when you first saw the note. “I tried to ask you earlier when I handed you the check back, but I chickened out.”

“I see,” you said with a smile on your face, “Does it really matter now? I mean I do have your number and you now have mine.”

“I guess in the end it really doesn’t, does it?” Jimin chuckled. A moment of silence filled the air as you continued your walk home while talking to him. “Where are you right now?” he finally asked.

“Walking,” you answered, “heading home from the diner.”

“I thought that looked like you,” Jimin said, “Look across the street.” You looked up and smiled when you saw Jimin smiling and waving at you with his phone at his ear. “You wanna grab some dinner? I’m sure you’re hungry after your shift.”

“I’d like that a lot,” you answered. He cut the phone call as did you when the signal came on for you to cross the street to him. “Hi,” you simply greeted him as you came face to face.

“Hi,” Jimin greeted back with the smile you have now engraved in your brain. He grabbed the strap of your bag and transferred it to his shoulders and offered his elbow for you to hold on to. “Shall we?”

You nodded as you took his elbow. As you followed his lead you looked up to him and said, “Hey, Jimin.” He looked at you ready for you to continue. “Be sure to thank your friends for the tip.”

[marvelandimagine]

Framework (Part Two)

Summary: Request - Bucky x reader songfic where he pushes her away and they break up but he’s miserable without her and it all ends in fluff and apologies

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 2,200

Author’s Note: This was literally the hardest chapter I’ve ever written idk why but I should probably start outlining instead of winging it 25/7 lol anywho sorry this took forever and hopefully p3 will come to my brain faster! / based on Framework by The Story So Far

Taglist: @firefly-in-darkness @emptynote @buckysgoddess

How’d this happen?

Found your way in

So distracting

Splitting me in half again

Can’t ever sever the ties I made

The knots are strong

The framework’s laid

No matter how many things I say

The tangible will always be what I crave

Six agonizing days pass, with Bucky coming to the conclusion that he actually can’t live with his decision. He feels like he’s drowning in regret, his anxiety is off the charts, and, plainly, he’s just fucking miserable.

Despite everything he said to you, to himself, to Sam, it’s become crystal clear that not having you in his life is hurting him way more than confronting his trust issues and fear of impermanence.

He misses you like hell. The scent of your clothes, the way you laugh, the warmth in your eyes and on your fingertips. How perfectly your bodies fit together, the way you gasp and growl his name. How you would hold him to your chest, tracing soothing patterns across his skin when he couldn’t stop shaking from the nightmares and the flashbacks. How funny and beautiful and kind you are. Even things that had irritated him, your reiterated suggestions of different therapies and mindfulness techniques (some that had helped you personally), how you never tried to hide rolling your eyes, you constantly misplacing your keys/phone/wallet and him finding it within seconds -- he missed it all. All of you, the good and bad, had somehow become woven into his being. He could sooner get rid of how he felt about you than get rid of himself.

He told himself he wouldn’t do it, but he’s been repeatedly checking your Instagram page, heart thudding each time as he anticipates seeing the pictures of the two of you together deleted -- or worse, seeing you with another guy’s arm wrapped around you. So far, though, there’s been nothing except a video post of your dog, Balto, howling and grinning at your TV screen when Ghost appears on the latest Game of Thrones. It just makes his heart ache more, that he chose to remove himself from these small, wonderful little moments in your life, and for what? 

He keeps staring at your number, his thumb hovering above the screen before he chucks the phone to the side, rubbing his eyes as he once again chickens out of contacting you. 

He reaches the breaking point when he starts reading back through old texts from around the time when you two first started dating. 

“I know we just said bye five minutes ago but I just wanted to say how happy I am that I met you. And you are definitely cuter than I am. That is all! Night, Buck.” And now the same blushing smile emoji that had him grinning from ear to ear makes his heart twinge.

“What the fuck did you do, Barnes?” he asks himself, letting the phone drop to his forehead with a dull thunk. 

He knows he wants—needs—you back, but he doesn’t know where to even begin. 

He sighs, grimacing as he rolls himself out of bed and trudges out toward the living room. There’s only one thing to do.

Bucky can already hear Sam’s voice emanating down the hall as he approaches:

“You call THAT avant garde?! That silhouette is as bland as toast. TOAST, Nina!”

Bucky sits himself down in the ottoman in the corner, careful not to walk in front of Sam — he thought he’d never hear the end of it when he accidentally blocked the screen during the last Grey’s Anatomy season finale.

“Project Runway again?” he asks, shaking his head.

“Hey, don’t you be getting all judgey now.” Sam smirks at Bucky, taking in his disheveled state. “You need to be jotting down notes, Kurt Cobain, wearing the same grungey-ass flannel three days in a row.”

Bucky shrugs.

“Not like I have anyone to impress.”

“You had someone to impress, but remember, you broke up with her, you cowardly fucking jackass.”

Bucky clenches his teeth as his scathing tone rattles in his head. He tries his best to ignore it and sound nonchalant as he swallows his pride to do something that normally sets his skin on edge: reach out to another person.

“Anyways, you busy?”

“Nah, I’ve had enough disappointment for today.” Sam grabs the remote, shutting off the screen and shifting to look at Bucky. “What’s up?”

Bucky exhales deeply, and he can practically feel the apprehension settling on his face, his habitual reluctance to open up kicking in.

“Um …” 

He bites the corner of his lip, trying to think over his words when his gut just wants him to yell, “I FUCKED UP please tell me how to get Y/N back.”

He’s spared having to, though, as Sam cuts through the silence:

“You want to get back together with Y/N, don’t you?”

Bucky stares at him.

“Is my misery that obvious?”

“Painfully.”

Despite his deadpan tone, the corner of Sam’s mouth twitches, and the two find themselves chuckling together. While he’ll never admit it to him, this is why Bucky views him as his best friend, why he trusts him -- he always knows how to make him laugh when he needs it. He knows Sam has his back.

Bucky shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

“So, what do I do?”

“Before I can try to answer that, you need to tell me why you broke up with her in the first place.”

Thought I’d burn the seams if they frayed

Thought I’d prove the point that I made

“I thought if I ended things, I’d be able to stop caring and feeling so vulnerable, I guess. That it’d be better for her, because she deserved better anyways, and maybe it’d be better for me … I don’t think I really believed that, deep down, but … I was scared. Scared of getting hurt, not being enough.” 

Bucky pauses and sighs, staring at the ground as he wrings his hands, running his flesh thumb back and forth over the smooth metal.

His voice is quiet, apprehensive.

“I was scared of how I felt about her.” 

Bucky glances up after a few moments of silence and is met with Sam looking at him more seriously than he can ever remember.

“Do you love her?”

Normally Bucky would flinch at such a direct question, but now, finally facing the consequences of keeping himself so guarded, he hesitates only for a fraction of a second before he nods, and it feels like a weight has left his chest in acknowledging how he feels.

He loves you. And he doesn’t have to run from that.

Sam nods back in response, running his hand along the dark stubble on his face as he begins in earnest.

“Look … you have a lot of regret in your life, right? I know it’s over things you didn’t choose, but now, you can choose. So what’s your choice gonna be? The way I see it, A) You can keep doing what you’re doing and let fear run you into the ground, or, B) you can tell that fear to go to hell, reach out to Y/N, buy her the nicest apology flowers you can, and tell her everything you just told me.”

“And if she tells me to go to hell?”

Sam sighs.

“I mean, she’s probably going to be pretty pissed at you —and rightfully so— but,” he pauses, his tone lightening, “God knows why, she seemed to really be into you. And nobody gets over a breakup that fast unless the relationship was already dead for awhile. You guys looked like you were solid until -”

“I blew everything to pieces, yeah.” 

Bucky sits quietly for a few seconds, pausing to sit and feel the knowing. The alignment in both his heart and mind, what he wants moving forward.

“I think choice B is the clear winner, here.” 

Sam waves his fist back and forth.

“Ding ding ding!”

Bucky nods.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice earnest as his eyes lock on Sam’s.

Sam’s returning smile is full of encouragement.

“Hey man, I got you. And I know this ain’t easy for you, opening up about stuff. Just know there’s always a seat at the VA group just waiting for your supersoldier ass to sit down, if you ever want to talk more.” 

 “Nah I’m-” Bucky physically stops himself from finishing his default “nah, I’m good for now, but thanks” response, because if he’s realized anything throughout this entire ordeal, it’s that he is most definitely not “good,” or at least not doing as good as he’d like to be.

“Yeah, ok, I’ll do it.”

“For real?”

Bucky exhales deeply, his sadness hanging on every syllable.

“With all this … I don’t know, maybe I wouldn’t have acted the way I did with Y/N if I had started dealing with this sooner, getting more okay with talking and being honest with people,” he muses. “Like you said, if I really do want a normal life, I kinda need to find a better way to handle what’s going on in here,” he taps his temple and then his chest, “than just shutting people out.”

Incredulity is all over Sam’s face, coupled that something Bucky could swear looks like a glimmer of pride. 

“Wow, yeah, that’s great, that’s the kind of perspective that’ll help you move forward.” He grins. “You sure you’re feeling ok? This isn’t some fever-induced thing, right?” 

Bucky flips him off while Sam chuckles.

“Hilarious.”

“You know I’m playin.’” Sam nods vigorously. “Seriously, it’ll be good for you. Anyways, though, back to choice B.”

Bucky feels the rise and fall of his chest pick up in nervous anticipation, but he slides the phone out from the pocket of his jeans anyways, thumbs tapping away on its surface. 

“Hey. Can we meet up?” 

Before he can second guess himself, he hits send, promptly hurling the phone onto the opposite corner of the couch where Sam is perched.

“Watch it!”

“You tell me what she says back. I don’t wanna see it first.”

However long you’re gone, I will wait, I will wait.

And then an agonizing, crawling two hours pass, with Bucky finding himself unable to focus on the National Geographic moon landing documentary that would normally absorb him entirely, his eyes constantly straying from the screen to the phone sitting silently in the corner. You never took this long to answer a text when you were dating, so he knows you’re ignoring him.

“Maybe she blocked you and didn’t even see it.”

He’s just about to ask Sam for the phone back to message you on Instagram, past the point of caring how desperate he looks because it’s the truth, when it pings.

Sam snaps out from his half-napping state at the sound, stretching across the couch and grabbing the phone. He pulls a face and Bucky’s heart sinks -- Sam might as well have said “yikes” out loud.

“What’d she say?”

Sam looks at him with the tiniest bit of pity, tossing the phone back.

“Why.”

“Why? That’s it?” Bucky looks down at the screen in disbelief, and there it is, the one-word response.

“Yup.”

Bucky buries his head in the throw pillow closest to him, muffling his yell. 

“What do I even say to that?! She’s pissed off, and I don’t wanna do this over text.”

“You don’t have to do it all over text, but you gotta give her something. The last thing you said to her was that you wanted to break up, and now you want to see her. I’m guessing she doesn’t want to assume you want to get back together, but if you do, she wants you to know she’s still upset.” Sam shrugs. “You messed up, now you gotta work for it.”

Bucky takes the pillow off his face, grimacing.

“Goddammit.”

He takes a minute to craft his reply, staring down at the screen.

“Because you were right about everything. I never should have ended us, I’m an idiot and miss you like hell. I just want to talk.” He hits send and turns the phone over, heart thumping inside his chest.

Ten minutes pass before you answer:

“I’ll be home until 7, I have plans after.”

Bucky’s stomach drops as his brain conjures images of you dressed up but not for him, for some other guy, his metal hand clenching involuntarily.

“You don’t know that you don’t know that, c’mon. It’s only been six days.”

He replies immediately:

“Can I come see you at 5?”

“Ok.”

Even with the realization that it’s already 4:10 and he’s gonna have to haul ass to Adams Morgan while still finding the time to get you the nicest flowers he can, Bucky already feels lighter with hope. You agreed to see him. You’re giving him at least a fraction of a chance to put things back together. 

He flies up off the couch and takes off down the hall.

“I’m meeting her at her place at 5!”

Sam calls out to his retreating back, and Bucky allows himself a small smile.

“Hey, go get her. But you go shower first!”

[quaranteend]

Mike Hanlon -- RP Application

Mun Info:

Name: Ash

Age: 19

Pronouns: she/her/hers

  ABOUT THE MUSE:

  Name: Michael ‘Mike’ Hanlon

Age: 21

Sex: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual with a male lean

Height: 5'9

Location: Derry

Faction: Derry

Occupation: Bookkeeper, historian

Brief History: 

Mike always had dreams to leave Derry after high school. The last few years it was like all of his friends were being picked off one by one. First Bev, then Eds, Richie wasn’t far behind, and even Stan; that one hurt more than Mike cared to admit. Mike had always thought: I’ll work at the library, earn a little money, and once I have enough, with the sold farm, I’ll get out of here. But it had been 4 years since he graduated high school, 4 years since he had spoken to any of the losers, 4 years since he was supposed to leave. Yet here, Mike was, placing the 3 recently returned Robert Frost collections in their correct ‘Dewey Decimal’ formation on the shelf. The same shelf that held the infamous “History of Derry” book that had brought the losers club together. He thought about them a lot; wondered if they thought about him. But Mike quickly shook that thought out of his mind. He had sort of hoped they didn’t. They had gotten out. They could live in the peace of oblivion, and truly that’s all Mike wanted for any of them. Mike didn’t think much about the losers for a while after that, not until that day of course. 

Mike was sleeping when it happened, and to be honest the heavy night full of drinking had created a slightly less alert version of the typically vigilant farmer. The screaming however, that shit could break anyone out of a trance, and soon enough Mike was on his feet, crobar in hand. Quickly, Mike realized it was in fact the radio that was screaming. 

Followed by a stark female voice: “What you just listened to came to us from San Francisco early this morning. Many have reported what seems to be undead individuals attacking those of us still alive.” 

A shaky male voice retorted this statement quickly, “You don’t actually think there’s a zombie apocalypse coming now do you Brianna?” 

“It’s not what I think, that’s what’s happening Mark. Don’t be so thick head--”

Mike turned off the radio and grabbed his keys. Finding himself in Keene’s empty pharmacy soon after, Mike grabs a magazine from the wire rack at the front of the store. 

ZOMBIES INFILTRATING WEST COAST -- 1698 FOUND DEAD, 783 INJURED

DISEASED INDIVIDUALS MURDERING IN CALIFORNIA 

OUTBREAK OF INFECTION  IN THE WEST - CAUSING HOMICIDE 

MASS MURDERS RELATED TO SUDDEN VIRUS IN SAN FRANCISCO

Mike reads the headlines in terror and physically shudders. Some of the magazines contain pictures and Mike frantically looks at them hoping that a red balloon doesn’t appear in any of the photos 18 years early. Thankfully it doesn’t, but something else does that Mike surely wasn’t expecting. Deep and buried within the cover photo of Lifetime Weekly is a lanky boy with thick rimmed glasses, a frail frame, and hair that had become even more shaggy since the last time Mike had seen it. Richie Tozier stares back at Mike Hanlon for the first time in 6 years and Mike realizes much to his dismay that he’s gonna have to make 6 phone calls sooner than expected; because if they could kill that fuckin clown, they could kill these fuckin zombies.

5 or more headcanons: 

Mike has a large notebook filled with intense and immersive research about the undead. It is complete with a scrapbook like pasting of photos from history books and religious texts. 

Mike has created a fort like den in the basement of the library where he hides out and obsessively listens to his radio for updates on the state of the world. 

Mike hasn’t left his self made den since the undead reached the east coast and he has inadvertently become a little stir crazy attempting to find each loser’s phone number and waiting for their anticipated arrival. 

Mike relies a lot on his extensive research of “how to defeat the undead” in order to combat the zombies he has yet to come in contact with. He knows they are outside, and they scare him, but not enough to not eventually meet the losers he anxiously hopes arrive in Derry soon. 

Mike feels guilty about calling the Losers to come back to Derry. He questions whether he should have asked them to come back to defeat a worldwide outbreak of millions of undead humans, based purely off the theory that they once defeated a killer clown attacking one small town when they were 12 years old. Did he do the right thing when he called? 

Roleplay Example:

“Hey Stan the Man, I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

No, what the fuck? Stan hated when they called him “Stan the Man”, a nickname Richie had created for the jewish boy because the trashmouth claimed, “Stanley sounded way too young for a guy who acted like he was 80 years old”. 

“Stanley Uris? This is Michael Hanlon. From Derry. How are you doing?” 

No! Never, have you ever introduced yourself or been called Michael by anyone other than Granddad, and even then, only when he was angry because you didn’t wake up early enough to feed the chickens. 

Mike took a deep breath. Stan was the last one on Mike’s list to call. Well, actually he was first on the list, but the last one Mike had to speak to. Stan was the first number Mike had searched for; he spent countless nights typing on his shitty old HP laptop in an effort to determine which order of seven numbers would reach “You have reached Stanley Uris, unfortunately I am unable to take your call right now. Leave your message and I will call you back at my earliest convenience”. Mike smiled to himself remembering listening to Stan’s high school cell phone’s voicemail so many times. He had always chuckled at how professional it had sounded even when they were 16; he wonders how professional it sounds now. 

“Fuck it”. 

Mike picked up his phone from his messy desk, littered with papers, pens, telephone books, and notepads filled with illegible scribbles, and dialled the number written next to the bolded “Stan” Mike had written in his neatest handwriting. Mike had paid careful attention when writing Stanley’s name because he remembered how intricate and perfect Stan’s own handwriting was, and how many times Mike had been embarrassed to write anything to Stanley in fear of him noticing his god awful chicken scratch. 

The phone rang exactly 3 times before a slightly muffled, “Hello? This is Stanley Uris. May I ask who’s calling?”

Mike stayed quiet for a brief moment before responding, “Stanley, this is Micha--Mike Hanlon. I’m sorry to call you, and I know that you probably don’t remember me, but we were friends as kids and I have a favor to ask of you”.

“I remember you Mike. Of course I do. I… what do you need?”

There was another short pause. 

“Well, I’m not sure if you’ve heard but, there’s been an outbreak of sorts, and I thought maybe--”

“We could stop it.”

Stanley finished Mike’s last sentence. 

“I do, and I’m not sure if it’s even anything related, but I just thought that if we could defeat a killer clown at 13 years old than who’s to say that--”

“Mike, Mike, Mike. When are where do you need me?”

“Derry. As soon as possible.”

[bfseventeen]

Fashion designer!Mingyu and Model!Minghao

Xu Minghao is a well known model in the fashion industry

he started out as a kid in China and grew out to be one of the well-known faces throughout the Far East

he has many admirers

he is invited to every fashion show and even if he isn’t modelling he still attends to keep himself up-to-date with the trends

he also likes to check out new, up-coming designers that are quite unknown to the public

that is how he became different from every other models

he had a unique style, a combination of unknown designer clothes

that is how he found his new favourite gem, Kim Mingyu

he loved the different patterns that Mingyu worked together, that no one have done before

because what everyone was scared to combine, Mingyu made it work

Minghao saw his designs at one of the smaller fashion events

his jaw dropped and he really wanted to meet the creator

however he couldn’t even get to the back because other designers noticed him in the crowd and stopped him every moment

by the time he got backstage Mingyu was long gone

but at least he got a name from one of his model friends, Hansol, who was on top of the game on social media

and as soon as he got home, he messaged him on instagram

Mingyu was more than surprised to get a message from Xu Minghao

he followed him on every social platform and always wanted to get into connection with him

but didn’t actually know how to approach him in the first place

he was worried of the language barrier but to his surprise Minghao reached out to him with a well-written Korean message

that calmed down his anxiety slightly and while still fan boying over Minghao he replied to him

‘hello, i saw your designs today on the runaway. i wanted to let you know that i admire your style and i hope to see more designs from you! the8 xx’

‘the8′ was the name Minghao took up; the number itself meant a lot to him

it meant that he started modelling at the age of 8, that 8 was his favourite and lucky number and it also meant infinite possibilities to him

he recently got a tattoo on his shoulder blade of the infinite symbol what he quite proudly shows off at every opportunity he gets ever since

‘hi! thank you for your message! it means a lot from someone like you! i love your work too! mingyu :^)))’ 

Mingyu replied and as soon as he sent it he cringed over the emoji he used

he throws his phone on his bed and decides to distract himself from the embarrassment and cook something for dinner

when he went back to check it he found a new message and several notifications

he checked instagram only to find his name tagged under a new post from Minghao

‘xuminghao: hope to work with you soon! @/mingyu_kim’ and a picture of his design on the runaway from that day

‘thank you! i hope we can work together one day! :))’ Minghao messaged him

and Mingyu’s first instinct was to call his best friend Wonwoo in panic and tell everything about how he got noticed by one of his favourite models

‘can’t you wait till i get home? i’m quite busy’ Wonwoo would reply in the middle of his book signing event

after that Mingyu’s and Minghao’s agents changed information and their first meeting was set

Mingyu gathered all his designs that he thought Minghao would like

by that time they have been messaging each other non-stop

Mingyu learned that Minghao has been doing hip hop dances since a young age thus keeping himself in perfect shape

Minghao learned that Mingyu loves cooking and wants to learn new recipes as well

their first meeting goes less smoothly than their conversation online

in the first few minutes, they just awkwardly stare at each other till Mingyu decides to show his designs 

they finally have a topic to talk about

when they are done with that the conversation goes by smoothly, Mingyu stopping every once in a while to explain a word to Minghao if he didn’t understand

Minghao always apologized but Mingyu waved him off and told him that at least he can speak a foreign language unlike him

after that they started to work together

Mingyu constantly designed clothes to fit Minghao’s shape

and in between shows they hang out together

they went to have dinner together or have a few drinks

or went shopping together, sometimes they even exchanged clothes

one day Minghao asked: ‘have you ever tried modelling before?’

and Mingyu quite frankly almost choked on his chicken 

as soon as he could breathe again he replied he has never done it before

it was enough for Minghao to take out his camera and say: ‘i know what we are going to do after dinner’

and thus Mingyu becomes Minghao’s first photo model, similarly, how Minghao became his first full-time model

Mingyu felt embarrassed for posing in front of a camera, on the streets, in public and quite honestly he didn’t understand how Minghao can do that in front of a whole crew of people

‘if you get over your fright you can be a good model though. you have everything to be one’ Minghao admits in between two photos, making Mingyu blush slightly

Minghao was surprisingly honest, always voicing his opinions openly and never hiding what he really thinks and feels

while Mingyu always took into consideration his opinion because he didn’t want to hurt the other person

when they were working together it took Mingyu some time to find the right words to express his opinion about how his clothes looked on some models

while Minghao frankly told the designers if he didn’t like something

when they were working together it took them a while to balance out their differences

but eventually, they made up for each other’s weaknesses

after a year of becoming best friends and colleagues, they decided to open a clothing store

Mingyu started to sell his own designs while in catalogs and advertisement Minghao was the model

eventually their store became a huge success even branching out online and to other Asian countries

but things were not always smooth between the two of them

especially since Minghao had a lot of schedules in Korea he decided for the time being to crash Mingyu’s place

“you can’t leave all of these clothes around the house like this!”

yelled Mingyu one day

to him clothes were too precious to see them lying on the floor or on the couch

while Minghao hated it whenever Mingyu made fun of Minghao’s skincare routine

“I’m a model so what do you expect from me?”

“I’m sorry but I can’t take you seriously with cucumbers on your eyes” laughed Mingy which made Minghao jump up and kick Mingyu in the butt

causing all the cucumbers to fly in different directions

but they made up after a long day when Mingyu cooked a nice meal for both of them

they were probably the most fashionable looking best friends pair out there

wherever they went people followed them with their eyes

they knew how to dress well and how to show off their chic charisma

but beneath all of that, they were both humble and playful young men

[painted-lady12]

What I Never Could...

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom:  Yuri!!! on Ice Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: None Relationships: Yuri Plisetsky/ Original Characters Characters: Yuri Plisetsky, Yakov Feltsman, Lilia Baranoskia, Yuuri Katsuki, Viktor Nikiforov, Mila Babicheva Summary:

A companion to “The Silver Devils Play”.  Yuri struggles with a tumultuous relationship, and finds out some sensitive information about Viktor.

***

Yuri Plisetsky was fifteen years old, and he was wandering the streets aimlessly.  Shops were bent towards the sidewalk, peering in at everyone’s business.  The summer weather was starting to wane, signaling that fall was just around the corner.

He’d taken to doing this often in the  last few weeks.  Yakov and Lilia were at each other’s throats constantly, and the bickering was driving Yuri absolutely crazy.  

His hair was up in a pony tail, and he realized where he was before he had consciously decided.

“Fuck,” Yuri cursed, and clicked around on his phone to call Mila.

Her voice trilled on the line.  “Hey, Yuratchka!  What’s…”

Another voice interjected, and Yurio’s stomach dropped.  “What are you doing out, kotenok?”

His phone dropped, and he picked it up, extremely grateful for his case.  He hung up on a confused Mila, and turned around.

Yuri gulped as he caught sight of who was behind him.  A tall, muscular boy with a chiseled jawline was watching the lean blonde with interest, biting his lip.  His dark hair fell into one of his eyes defiantly; bright blue eyes blinked from behind those locks.

Kotenok.  That was Viktor’s nickname for him,, it shouldn’t be coming from anyone else’s mouth.  Yuri’s hand tightened into a fist, his fingernails biting into his pale skin.  “What do you want, Ruslan?”

The taller boy smirked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  “You’re standing outside my apartment.  I should be asking you that.”

A blush creeped onto Yuri’s face, and he quickly looked away, retreating into his hoodie like a turtle into its shell.  A brisk evening wind whisked past them, and Yuri wished momentarily if it could carry him away from this embarrassment.  

The sixteen-year-old looked bemused, and Yurio turned on his heel to leave.

“Wait,” Ruslan said, voice wavering a little bit, tinged with… something.  “I’ve been meaning to text you.  I wanted to talk.”

The sidewalk was unfortunately deserted, so Yuri had nowhere to hide and no excuses.

“Come inside?” Ruslan provided hopefully, and Yuri nodded, following him into the apartment building.  When they got inside, though, Yuri looked around.  “Is anyone home?”

Ruslan froze, eyes widening a little bit.  “No, my mom is working…”

The blonde placed his hand on the other boy’s button down, pushing him gently until he hit the wall of the living room.  Ruslan’s pupils dilated, and he grinned.  “I said talk.”

“I didn’t,” Yuri argued, and started hungrily nibbling on his neck, sucking and biting and leaving a trail of red skin where he went.

“You’re… you drive me crazy, you know that?” Ruslan swallowed, and Yuri moved to circle his tongue around the other boy’s earlobe.

“Ahh,” he dropped an inch or two as his knees buckled with want, and Yuri let his fingers start exploring the skin under his shirt, curls of hair sliding under his hands.

“Not that… ah, not that I’m complaining, but why did you come here?”

Yurio froze at the corner of Ruslan’s jaw, pulling back and narrowing his eyes.  “I… didn’t do it on purpose.  I was just walking and then I was here.”

Ruslan frowned.  “You need to be careful, Yuri.  If my mom sees you here again, she’ll…”

A whiplash of memory flooding over Yuri like a tidal wave.

Of the two of them half dressed and tangled with each other on the bed.  Of hot breath and rough kisses and hands somehow always finding the perfect spot to cradle and caress.

Then, the memory soured.  The door opened, and Ruslan’ mother, a short nurse with a tight grimace who dropped what she was carrying on the floor in shock.  Yuri managed to dart out of the room, but she had caught the back of his shirt.

Ruslan had pushed her so he could get away.  Yuri saw Ruslan at their favorite coffee place two days later, bruises flowering below the hem of his shirt.  Yuri’s hands had traced the outline of them in the bathroom between kisses.  Ruslan explained that they needed to lay low for a while.  

Yuri couldn’t help it, though.  The other boy drew him like a magnet; besides, it was a miracle that Yuri managed to even find another gay teen in his area.  Most of them were so closeted that they’d become the shoes and shirts around them, hiding in plain sight.

They had been friends for a few years, and then one day Ruslan hugged Yuri tightly, and instead of hugging back, Yuri had stiffened and shrunk away, blushing.  The two of them were caught in an eternal stare-down, until finally Ruslan brushed Yuri’s hair behind his ear.

“I missed you,” Yuri growled, pressing a soft kiss to the taller boy’s lips.

Ruslan’s smile grew, making him only look increasingly more handsome.  Yuri cursed whoever made this damned boy so attractive.

Yuri knew no lips but Ruslan’s lips, and knew no one else’s body the way he did Ruslan.  Yuri’s experience with anything of this nature begins and ends with this boy, the one Yuri started pulling towards the bedroom.

When they got there, Yuri plopped down onto his bed and spread himself out comfortably, spreading his legs as Ruslan crawled up between them, kissing his clothed calves up to his thighs to his stomach, hovering over a tiny patch of exposed skin, hot breath on his skin making Yuri close his eyes.

Thy kissed and kissed, trying to get closer, trying to meld into one person, their clothes started disappearing, until Yuri was working on Ruslan’s belt.

“Yuri, we should talk.”

Yuri groaned, falling back against the bed.  “Fine.  Talk.”

Ruslan’s hair stood up attractively where Yuri had run his fingers through it, and he took Yuri’s hand in his.

“What are we doing?”

“Um, well, I know what I was going to do, but…”

Ruslan snorted.  “No, not that.  What are we?  We’ve been doing… this… for a few months.  First it was just kisses, but it’s more than that, now.  What does that mean for us?”

The question made Yuri swallow thickly.  “I can’t be gay,” he responded.

There were a few breaths.  “That ship has sailed, Yuri…”

The blonde shook his head suddenly, “No, no, you know what I mean.  I can’t be… out.  I’m a public figure, and if I have a boyfriend I’ll be completely destroyed by the press.”

Yuri remembered the many times that Viktor had to go on dates with women, the front he would have to put up.  At some point Viktor stopped caring, and the world loved him too much to care.  It was different with Yuri, because he was fresh in the senior division.  He didn’t have the reputation of a living skating legend to back him up.

“Boyfriend,” Ruslan said the word slowly, mouth forming a smile around the sound.

“I… wait, I don’t…” Yuri was frantic now, leaning back.  “I didn’t mean…”

There was a sigh.  “I know, Yuri.  So what you’re telling me is that we can only ever be friends?”

“I don’t think we can ever just be friends, either,” Yuri admitted, this time leaning towards the dark-haired boy, whose blue eyes sparkled as he leaned in, too.

Their mouths met for a few short kisses, until Ruslan whispered, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Yuri’s phone started ringing.  It was Mila, and Yuri flushed, grabbing for it.

“Mila I can…”

“You’re with him, aren’t you?  I thought you promised that you wouldn’t go back there.”

Yuri sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “It’s my life, Mila.”

Mila’s voice came in lower over the phone, as she attempted her impersonation of Yurio himself.  “Mila he broke my heart he won’t text me back promise me you won’t let me near that asswipe again I’d rather throw myself off a cliff.  I have it written down, Yuri. Do you need me to pick you up?”

Bright blue eyes were watching him nervously, and Yuri found some semblance of sobriety to say, “Yeah, you know where.”

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Mila promised, and Yuri got up and started putting his clothes back on mechanically.

“Where are you going?” Ruslan got up and tried to stop Yuri from pulling on his sock, only to be pushed back.  “You came to my house.  You came to me.  It’s not like I was baiting you, either.  You know that what we have is more, don’t you?  It’s something.  You can’t run from it forever.”

When Yuri had stuffed his last foot into a shoe, he stormed out.

“Watch me try.”

***

Mila’s car smelled like dogs and strawberries.  She was in sweats and a crop top, having just come from her hip-hop class.

Yuri sunk down into the seat as she drove, until they were stopped in front of Yakov and Liila’s place.  Mila was tapping her fingers on the windshield, nervousness manifested in fidgeting.  

“You know that being with him is just hurting you.  Why do you keep going back?”

Instead of answering, Yuri bolted out of the car, muttering a “thanks” before slamming the door.

The other skater knew him well enough to know that this was a dismissal.  She drove off quickly, and soon Yuri walked into a quiet house.  The smell of dinner floated from the kitchen, and Yuri smiled before his phone started going off.

A picture of a pork cutlet bowl illuminated his screen, and he raised an eyebrow, seeing that he’d also gotten a text from Yuuri earlier that day, asking for Yakov’s number.

“Hey old man, I’m giving pork cutlet bowl your number!  I think he wants to ask you something!”

When Yuri sat down at the dinner table with Lilia and Yakov, they’d returned to casual conversation and civility, laughing and eating like nothing had ever happened.

Yakov’s phone started going off.  “I’ll get that after dinner,” he clicked the volume, but then saw the previews of the texts and stood up quickly.  “Sorry, no, this is urgent.”

Having just taken a bite of chicken, Yuri watched Yakov disappear into the den, him and Lilia exchanging confused glances.

“The old man doesn’t answer the phone during dinner,” Yuri stated, dumbfounded.

“It must be important,” she responded, watching the doorway he disappeared through with alarm.  

Dropping his fork, Yuri walked after Yakov, Lilia hissing for him to get back to the table.

Voices whispered on speaker, coming from Yakov’s office across the hall.  He followed the sound until he got close enough to hear it.

“Katsuki, this is… what happened?  All of this sounds so pained and confused…”

“I don’t know,” came Yuuri’s voice from the phone, “He was rambling this to Minako while drunk.”

“I’ll send you a translation after I transcribe it.  Give me an hour.”

Yuri waited patiently, sitting against the door, ear pressed to the wooden entryway.

Then a voice started playing from Yakov’s phone, a voice speaking Russian that was in so much agony that Yuri actually got up and went back to the dinner table, pale.  Upon his return, Lilia smacked him with a towel.  

“You’re doing dishes for listening in like that,” she quipped, leaving the kitchen and Yuri to his thoughts.

When the dishes were done, Yakov came back into the room, normally miserable face screwed up into even more pain than usual.

“What happened to Viktor’s mother, Yakov?”

The old man stared back at Yuri with narrowed, dark eyes.  “It’s none of your business, Yuratchka.”

Yuri felt full of rage enough to burst.  “Of course it is!  Is this why he lived with his aunt?  Did she abandon him?”

“It’s all in the past.”

The blonde had strands of hair falling into his face, adding a dishevelled look to his anger.  “I want to know, Yakov.”

Sighing, Yakov gestured towards the kitchen table.  He got up and retrieved some good vodka from the other room and poured himself a glass.  Upon Yuri looking at him questioningly, Yakov simply shrugged.  “I can’t get through it without alcohol, kid.  I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

Yuri simply waited.

“When Viktor was young, his father passed.  His mother didn’t take it well.  She tried to kill herself, and Viktor found her.  After that she ran, going from place to place and hiding away from Viktor.  Viktor got sent to live with his aunt, but I went looking for her.  I found her with a new husband, and she was holding a baby boy in her arms.  She’d found a new family all her own, and left Viktor out completely, without even acknowledging his existence.”

“How does the press not know this?” Yuri whispered, eyes wide.

“I did a good job keeping the suicide attempt quiet, and after I found their new family I convinced her new husband to make sure that she kept nothing of distinction to lead anyone from Viktor to her.”

Everything was processing at half rate.  “You’re telling me that you orchestrated a huge cover-up to keep this a secret?”

“I’m telling you that my skater was hurting, and I needed some way to ensure that the person who hurt him couldn’t do so again.”

Yuri’s fist slammed down on the table, making the whole kitchen shake.  “Like hell!  Viktor has a mother and you’re keeping him from her.  I… not everyone gets that!  Not everyone gets that chance…”

“I gave Viktor her address when he asked for it.  He went, and decided to let her be.  It’s his decision.”

Yuri got up and left the table, storming to his room.

***

At the end of practice the next day, Yuri got into Mila’s car and gave her an address.

“That’s a two hour drive, Yuri, you better be spotting me for gas.”

The red-head was watching him curiously, trying to figure out what his game was.  

Yuri just stared out the window and muttered, “Yeah, sure.  Just keep the car running.”

They disappeared from the bustling and historic streets of St. Petersburg, the countryside stretching on either side of them for miles.  The overcast sky created a luminous effect on all below it, and Yuri was completely entranced by the way it reflected off the passing houses and farms.

Two hours later, Yuri and Mila had gone through his entire playlist, and they were gaping in a driveway at a massive mansion, brick-lined and white-trimmed.   

Yuri’s green eyes were widened, and his mouth hung open.  All at once, though, he seemed to collect himself and got out of the car.  He felt silly in his tiger t-shirt and ripped jeans, but he knew what he came here to do.

He went up to the front door and knocked.

There was movement behind the door, and a few giggles.  Within moments a beautiful blonde woman answered the door.  Her eyes were crystal-clear water, and she was practically bursting with life.  Despite the warm day, she had on long sleeves, and Yuri suspected that he knew why.

“Can I help you?” She asked this with sincerity, biting her lip.  She had a carrot in one hand, which would have been comical except for the situation.

“I… can I come in?”

She blinked, looking him up and down.  “You’re… you’re Yuri Plisetsky,” she whispered, a grin spreading on her face.  “Come in!”

Yuri did not expect such a warm welcome.  He walked in after her, surveying the beautiful foyer.  It looked like a regal palace entrance, with a sweeping staircase and glittering chandelier.  Yuri followed her into a small sitting room.  The carpet in here was pristine; there was a little boy sitting on the floor, drawing on a sketchpad.

“Yuri, this is Sammy.  Sammy, this is Yuri.  He’s a figure skater.”

The little boy’s eyes twinkled.  “Does that mean you know Viktor?!”

That shocked him, most of all.  “Yes, I do.”

“Mommy can I show him?!” the little boy was practically buzzing with excitement, his smile extremely bright.  

The woman nodded, and tiny, cold hands grabbed Yuri’s, and he was being pulled towards a tiny door.  Ana took a key out of a waxy houseplant and placed it in the lock.  When she opened the door and turned on the light, Yuri was stunned.

It was all… Viktor.  News articles about him, merchandise everywhere from posters to statues.  Viktor’s shining face was on every wall.  There were tables with some things that looked like belonged to Viktor as a child.  An old blanket, a stuffed bear with the eye missing.

“I’m sure that you’re here to check up on us,” Ana said easily, ruffling her son’s hair without conscious thought.

Honestly, Yuri was too stunned to speak.

“We’re his biggest fans, of course.  Hey, honey, could you go get us some of the cookies from the kitchen?”

Sammy bolted off, and Ana smiled fondly after him.  “He’s got so much energy, just like Vitenka used to have.”

“I… I’m sorry, I’m confused…”

“You must be wondering why I keep all this stuff,” she said calmly, tiny fingers touching just above Viktor’s eyebrow, where a hairline-thin scar sat.  You couldn’t see it in the photo because it was probably touched up.  It wasn’t something you saw unless you were quite close with Viktor, and Yuri wondered how long the older man had had it.  “It’s the closest I can get, anymore.  I know I lost the right to be in his life when I… when I left.  But I can still watch his competitions.  I can still buy his posters and read his twitter just to know that my boy is okay.”

Yuri stuttered a little bit.  “You… you’re staying away so you don’t hurt him?”

The pitch in Yuri’s voice made Ana’s hand drop from the photo.  “What?  That is the arrangement I made with Yakov, is it not?  I had to cut all ties with him.”

The young Russian was seeing red creep up on the edge of his vision.  “Yakov told me he just didn’t want the press finding out that you abandoned him.”

Her eyebrows knitted.  “Isn’t that… the same thing?”

“He asked that you lose your ties to the Nikiforov name, not lose your son.  You could have sent him a card or something on his birthday!  You could have had him for dinner here to meet his brother.  You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?  This place looks like a shrine, like Viktor is dead in the ground.  He’s alive, and he feels like his own mother forgot him!  Some people don’t even get the chance to see the ones they love, but you do and you just don’t take it!”

Sammy stood in the doorway, eyes wide and hands holding up a cookie tray.  

“I came here because I thought I would have to remind you that you had a son.  This is so much worse, though.  You want him to stay far away because you can’t mess up if you don’t try.  Why don’t you fucking try?!”

Ana became stony.  “Get out of my home.  You will not scream in front of my son.”

Yuri stormed out, and paused as he passed Sammy.  

“I’m sorry, kid.  It’s not your fault that your family is fucked.”

“Get OUT!”

Yuri slammed the front door open and ran to Mila’s car.  She was watching Yuri with wide, mascara-clad eyes.

“Yuri, what…”

“We need to get out of here.  I’m going to be sick.”

The drive back was quiet for most of it, but after the first hour Mila tried, “Who was that?”

“Viktor’s mother.”

Mila almost slammed on her breaks.  “Wait, really?  I thought she was dead!”

“No, she’s just a fucking coward.  I can’t believe that she has the chance to know him and is staying away like this.  It makes me nauseous.”

Mila was quiet for a few moments, then said carefully, “I think that there are good and bad mothers out there, Yuri.  It’s not your job to judge.”

“Some of us don’t get that chance.”

Sighing, Mila bit her lip.  “I’m so sorry, Yuri.  This must be hard for you.”

“Some people lose their mother when we’re young and we don’t get that relationship at all.  I… I can barely even remember what she sounds like anymore…” Yuri’s voice cracked.  “I’m so fucking angry.”

Mila took Yuri back to her place and tucked him in on the couch that night.  Sometime in the night, Ruslan called Yuri, and Mila snatched the phone before Yuri could get up.

“Hello, this is Mila.  I know that you mean a lot to Yuri, but he needs some peace tonight.  I’ll tell him you called in the morning.”

“Oh,” the voice on the other end deflated.  “Does he… is there anything I can do?”

“No, there isn’t.  Some wounds just need time.”

She hung up and put the phone carefully back next to Yuri.  She pressed a kiss to his forehead.  “Goodnight, Yuratchka.”

She went to sleep that night, and clicked away on her phone beforehand.

Love you, mom.  Goodnight.

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday am2c!

We apologize that your gift is late @am2c! We hope you had a great Birthday! To help celebrate your special day, the wonderful @ally147writes has written a special Everlark story just for you! Enjoy!

On the Cusp

 AN: Happy Birthday to the prompter! I fear this got a little more angsty than what you probably wanted, but I hope I balanced the worry and the fluff enough for you :) Apologies for the rushed end — I had about a thousand problems with my computer you don’t want to know about… But if anyone’s interested, I’ll be expanding on this one in the future.

 I did write this with everyone on the cusp of a milestone birthday in mind (including myself), so I hope everyone enjoys it and maybe takes something away.

 Rated M-ish for language.

Whenever Peeta Mellark envisioned his thirtieth birthday, back when the occasion was still far-off and hazy with dreams, he imagined a few milestones might have been ticked off his ‘Before Thirty Bucket List’:

He should be in a job, in the field he studied in, that he loves. It should not be a chore going to work every day, and he should wake up in the mornings looking forward to the day. But not so much that he brings his work home with him. There should be a clear distinction, a line that should never be crossed between the professional and the personal.

 He should be married to the woman of his dreams. He should have dated her for at least two years and ideally, his family would like her, but in the face of true love he’d be more than happy to make concessions to keep everyone happy. They should have enough in common to make things comfortable, and enough in difference to keep things interesting. They should have had an outdoor wedding in the springtime, with just their close friends and family in attendance, and honeymoon somewhere close to the shore.

 (He never acknowledges out loud, or on the piece of paper he wrote all this one, that the sex should be incredible. Mind-blowing if they can manage it. They should be in perfect sync with each other and know each other’s bodies better than their own. He almost sighs again at the thought of it. Mind-blowing.)

 (He also doesn’t want to admit he’s had a certain someone in mind ever since he devised the list, but he can’t — there’s no way —)

 He should have at least two children running underfoot. Maybe another on the way. He’s always wanted three kids. It seems to him such a tidy number, not too many, not too few. And perhaps a dog or two, too. He’s always been especially fond of beagles.

 He should have his own home, and his own car, and should be making manageable payments on each in time to be a home owner before he retires, which should be right on sixty, or earlier if it can be managed. He doesn’t want him and his prospective wife to be working up until their seventies only to be shoved into a retirement home at the end of it all.

 He should be well-travelled, proficient in at least one language other than English. Cultured, and with broad horizons. Adventurous, but not to the point that home becomes unattractive.

 He should have solid hobbies that are his own and not tied in with anyone else’s. He should be independent in every way, to make the time he spends with loved ones all the more meaningful.

 And above all else, he should be happy. He should be happy.

 On March fourth, one week to the day until this birthday, Peeta thinks back on those wishes for his future life, and thinks maybe he should have crossed all those milestones out and replaced them with just one:

 ‘Become Superman’

 Because that’s what he’s asking of himself.

 In hindsight, he hasn’t done too badly. He’s done some of the things on the list, just not to the standard he’d hoped.

 He has a job, not in his field and certainly not one he loves, but it’s enough to make the rent and pay the bills on his shitty apartment. He owns his car, but it wasn’t too big a stretch to save the thousand bucks for the old Corolla more than on its last legs.

 He’s nowhere near close to married, so even farther from being a dad, but he looks upon his previous twenty-nine years and wonders how he ever believed he could be ready by this point to assist in the rearing of another life, let alone the three he dreamed of.

 He did get his beagle, though, a sweet little thing always so happy to see him at the end of the day that he named Snoopy, because what else would you name a beagle?

 He took a semester of French in college, but all he remembers is je nes comprends pas, and that’s all he really needs since even if he did become adventurous and set off, it’s not like he’d understand a damn word of the language, anyway.

 And happiness… happiness has become a little more abstract the older he becomes, and he’s still not sure he understands it. He thinks he’s happy… ish, anyway.

 But as Peeta reads over the list by the light of a candle, because at four in the morning he doesn’t want to crack the lights even though he’s lived on his own for a decade, he can’t help but feel… deflated.

 He knows he’s far too idealistic, too prone to dreams and getting lost inside his head. Katniss tells him so every time they talk. Making a list like this one only serves to make him feel like a failure where no such failing exists.

 And God, it’s working.

 He’s had so bloody long to work at least half this shit out. What the hell is he doing with his life if he’s not working towards these goals? He’s stagnated, badly, but when did that happen? When did he become so lost that he just stopped noticing that everything in his life was so… different?

 He wipes at his stinging eyes. Christ, is he about to cry?

 He reaches over to his bedside table and yanks his phone from its charger. Snoopy snuffles at the end of his bed but carries on sleeping. The dog could sleep through the apocalypse.

 He scrolls through the phonebook until he finds the number he wants and presses ‘call’.

 “Pick up,” he mutters through the ringing. “Please pick up.”

 Uncountable rings later: “Hello?”

 “Katniss?”

 “Peeta?” she mumbles. He hears her sigh, the creaks of the springs in her bed as she rolls over, and the click of her bedside lamp. Her voice, the sounds of her movements that prove she’s real… he feels calmer already. “Peeta, it’s… God, it’s early. Are you all right?”

 “I’m turning thirty, Katniss.”

 There’s a beat of confused silence, then: “I know, Peeta. I’m turning thirty soon, too, remember?”

 “No, you don’t get it. I haven’t done… anything.”

 “Peeta,” she says on a sigh. “You’ve done plenty.”

 “I haven’t!” He waves the list around, even though Katniss can’t see it. “Not one thing on my list, Katniss, except my dog.”

 “You have a list?” She groans. “Peeta, fuck the list, all right?”

 “You don’t get it!” He throws the list, but it doesn’t go very far. “Nothing on it was hard! None of it should have taken this long.” He sighs and falls back against his pillows. “I should have been… more by now, you know?”

 “All right.” He listens as she sighs, sits up, brushes her hair out of her face. He can almost see her doing these things if he closes his eyes.

 “What was the first thing on your list?”

 This is good. He needs this. Needs his pragmatic best friend to break down his thoughts into manageable blocks.

 “To get married.” He doesn’t need the list in front of him to know the complete order of things.

 “O-okay,” she says with a tiny, ever so slight waver, one he thinks only he would be able to hear. “So, what stopped you?”

 “I never met the right woman.” Yes, he has. He met her ages ago, he’s just been too chicken shit to do anything about it.

 “And that’s your fault? You can’t blame yourself for that.”

 “Yeah, I guess, but I still thought — I mean, I’d hoped by now…”

 “Peeta.” She groans. “Tell me you haven’t been waiting for this magical, mystical unicorn of a woman to just fall into your lap?”

 “Well… not exactly…” He’s been waiting for her to see him for real, see what he’s been trying to show her for years now, but he can’t tell her that.

 “Fine.” She yawns, ending it on a sweet sigh. “What was number two?”

 “I wanted to have my own house by now.”

 “And what stopped you there?”

 “I don’t earn anywhere near enough. And after paying rent and bills and whatever else, there’s not enough to put anything away for a deposit.”

 “Again, Peeta, that isn’t something you can blame yourself for. Besides, unless they’re damn lucky, hardly anyone buys a house on their own. A house is kinda a joint effort.”

 This is what he needed, to be reminded of all the things he knows, but that he never thought would apply to him because he should have just wanted it enough. “I know.”

 “Anything else?”

 “The usual. Learn another language, travel. Become a dad. Things like that.”

 She’s quiet for a long moment. “You know, Peeta, thirty isn’t that old. Hell, it’s not old at all.”

 “I know.”

 “Just because those things on your list aren’t ticked off not, doesn’t mean they never will be.”

 “Yeah.”

 She’s quiet again before she asks, “Is there anything on your list you can do in a week? You know, to make yourself feel better?”

 “Go skydiving?” he jokes. “Well… not really. They’re all mostly life goals. Not personal goals.”

 “Maybe that’s your problem. Maybe you should look at the things you really do want, not the things you think you should want.”

 He wants nothing more than that, but how much could that cost him? Is he willing to go after what he wants to the potential detriment of all he’s ever known?

 And if he does, and it all works out… what does he do then?

 “You’re probably right.” He sighs, closes his eyes. “I love you, Katniss.”

 She doesn’t reply, but she doesn’t have to. Katniss is a woman of action, not words. She never has to reciprocate the words for Peeta to know she loves him, too, just not the way he wants. “Get some sleep, Peeta. I’ll see you later.”

 “See you,” he whispers, and she hangs up.

 XXXXX

 His birthday isn’t all that different to any other day. He gets a dozen messages that morning from his brothers, his father, and a few old college friends. Katniss calls before he leaves for work with the promise of coming over later that night to make pizza, like they’ve always done for each other’s birthdays since college. It’s enough to push him through the motions of the day and make each passing hour behind that soul-sucking desk a little bit easier.

 When he pulls up at his apartment that evening, Katniss’ car is already there. He grins and climbs the stairs to the third floor and finds his door unlocked. Snoopy almost barrels him over as soon as he walks in the door.

 “Hey, buddy.” He scratches the dog behind his ears before he darts off down the hall.

 Katniss calls from the kitchen, “I’ve already fed and walked him. Don’t let him fool you.”

 “Thank you.”

 “I made the dough just like you showed me, but I’m not sure…”

 He follows her voice to the kitchen and sets his hand lightly on her hip to look over her shoulder at the bowl. “Looks good.”

 “Good.” She turns in light hold, but doesn’t move away. Her eyes are locked on his, unwavering, and her hands clutching the edge of his benchtop are covered in sticky dough.

 “Happy birthday,” she whispers.

 “Thank you.” Why are they whispering?

 “Peeta…”

 She swears and launches herself up on the tips of her toes, grabs at his shirt, and presses her lips to his, soft and smooth and warm and magical. Peeta’s too scared to breathe, to shatter the illusion. What if he opens his eyes and it’s not real?

 There’s no tongue, nothing crazy, just a chaste press, a test, experimental. He fears anything on his part might be introducing a few too many variables. But it’s perfect. About as perfect a first kiss between friends could be. As he starts to return it, she pulls away, by the tiniest inch, something indefinable clouding her grey eyes.

 “What was that for?” he whispers.

 She tips her head downwards, breaking their eye contact. “Talking to you about your list… it got me thinking a little bit about mine.”

 He can’t help but chuckle. “Yours? You have a list?”

 “Of a sort. I don’t want to plan my life out, Peeta. I don’t want to hold myself to rigid, impossible standards that I get upset about when I can’t fulfil them.”

 He swallows. “Oh.”

 “There was really only one thing I wanted to do, Peeta.”

 His heart leaps into his throat, and his fingers play with the hem of her shirt swaying about her hips, too scared to wrap around and hold her. But if he’s reading what she’s saying right…

 “What did you want to do, Katniss?”

 She lets out a heavy sigh and looks back up at him, her eyes still clouded with that something, but also with that gritty determination that he loves.

 “I wanted to tell you, Peeta Mellark, that I lo — I really, really like you. More than that, I think. That I want… more, I think. I mean… you know, if you wanted, we could —”

 There’s nothing left to do or say but to wrap his arms around her and kiss her again. And again and again and again.

 His head is a thoughtless, blissful whirl. He’s kissing the woman of his dreams, in his shitty kitchen, as dough for their pizza rises and a rambunctious dog dances and whines at their feet. If this is happy, he’s there.

 And he can cross that off his damn list.