#do i think he would have his room this nicely decorated while horribly depressed NO!!! it was just for the compostion of the piece

[sallytwo]

Jennifer nearly jumped into the water / and she was tired like no one's ever been tired

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,919 Words

Summary: A new friend moves into the dorm.

Warnings: Death Mention, Abandonment Mention, Orphan Mention, Disownment, Cursing, Injury Mention, Blood Mention, Caps, Food Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Usernames: Existence Is A Prison  Aizawa: feral cat dad, Aoyama: gay salt, Hagakure: ranch flavored jello, Tokoyami: foil-mecha, Shinsou: farmer toshi, Kuroiro: life is a nightmare, Shiozaki: saviour, Tsunotori: schrodinger better run, Honenuki: pure, Monoma: nat20, Yamada: President Megaphone, Bakugou: deku-deck-you

Aizawa, We Agreed No More Cats: Chapter 5

6:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

President Megaphone: Alright, you might have noticed dorm 10 is occupied this morning. You guys are getting another fellow dormmate.

gay salt: mon dieu. Who?

President Megaphone has added Bakugou

Bakugou: Hi, I guess.

farmer toshi has changed Bakugou's name to deku deck-you

deku deck-you: I'd kill you if you didn't risk your life for my teacher.

farmer toshi: Come kill me then, coward.

deku deck-you: No, I'm too tired.

schrodinger better run: Hey, Baku, what's your tragic backstory?

deku deck-you: What?

foil-mecha: Well, about 60% of us in here have a tragic backstory for being in the dorms. Monoma's mother abandoned him in Japan, Hagakure and Shinsou are orphans, Kuroiro's parents hate her, and Honenuki's been disowned. Me and Shiozaki are only here because our commute to and from school would have been horrible and Tsunotori and Aoyama are exchange students.

deku deck-you: It's stupid. I don't want you to think I'm pathetic.

gay salt: If anyone makes fun of you, I'll personally kick in the teeth. Besides Shinsou, he gets a free pass only because his teeth are already fucked this week with wires.

deku deck-you: Well, my old hag mother wanted me to drop from UA because it's too dangerous for her liking but I wouldn't do it so she kicked me out and disowned me. She beat me pretty bad, ended up breaking my right kneecap and left a bunch of deep cuts on my arms and almost severed my arteries in my wrists with some glass from a vase she broke before she threw me out of the house.

deku deck-you: I'd have used my quirk on her if it wouldn't be considered unwilling quirk usage against a civilian and, with my quirk, I'd be put in jail for how dangerous me using it in a fight could be, especially if she claimed I hurt her. I can't even go to class this morning because she threw my blood on my UA uniform so I wouldn't go back.

farmer toshi: Can't say it'll completely fit you, but my uniform is clean in room 6 in the top drawer of my dresser. Use mine for today since I'm not allowed to go to school today still. I threw up last night so I'm being held yet again for observation.

deku deck-you: Thank you. Who all is even here?

ranch flavored jello: Oh yeah, introductions. You weren't here for them.

ranch flavored jello has quoted 21 messages

Aizawa: Shouta, he/him, I'm gay, married, depressed

Shinsou: Hitoshi, he/him, I'm gay

Monoma: Seiko, she/they/he, pansexual/genderfluid, if you have a crush on me, you're some kind of gay

Hagakure: Toru, she/her, lesbian

Aoyama: Akemi, she/they, trans mtf/lesbian

Tsunotori: Pony, she/her, lesbian

Shiozaki: Ibara, they/them, asexual/agender/aromantic

Kuroiro: Kageya, she/her, trans mtf/bi

Tokoyami: Fumikage, he/him, trans ftm/bi

Honenuki: Juzo, she/her?, bi

Kuroiro: Ah yes, our girl, Honenuki Kiyomi.

Shinsou has changed Aizawa's name to feral cat dad

Shinsou has changed Aoyama's name to gay salt

Shinsou has changed Hagakure's name to ranch flavored jello

Shinsou has changed Tokoyami's name to foil-mecha

Shinsou has changed Kuroiro's name to life is a nightmare

Shinsou has changed Shiozaki's name to saviour

Shinsou has changed Tsunotori's name to schrodinger better run

Shinsou has changed Honenuki's name to pure

Shinsou has changed Monoma's name to nat20

feral cat dad has changed Shinsou's name to farmer toshi

deku deck-you: Well, I'm pansexual, he/him, trans ftm, just please don't call me Bakugou anymore, I don't want that hag's surname.

feral cat dad: I'll fight your mother, don't tempt me.

feral cat dad: Also how about Aizawa Katsuki?

deku deck-you: I'm going to start crying.

nat20: Looks like Mr. Aizawa is adopting another kid with bad parents.

President Megaphone: Yeah, I'll get the paperwork on the UA twelve hour adoption from custody transfer.

deku deck-you: Oh my god, I can't believe this is really happening.

farmer toshi: I'd kill a transphobe for my brother, your honor.

deku deck-you: I have a family? Really? A real family that won't hurt me?

President Megaphone: As your uncle, I assure you, nobody here will hurt you.

feral cat dad: Katsuki, I would never hurt my son.

farmer toshi: Yeah, dude, I wouldn't hurt you, ever.

ranch flavored jello: I have a brother! I wanna paint your nails!

deku deck-you: I don't think I've ever been happier in my life.

farmer toshi: I'm glad you're happy, Katsuki.

deku deck-you: You're all so nice, thank you.

gay salt: We'd be nice to you regardless, Kats. We're happy to help you whilst you're settling in and finally getting to feel safe. We're proud of you for being brave enough to reach out for help when you needed it.

deku deck-you: I need to get dressed before y'all keep making me cry.

deku deck-you is now offline

7:50 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: katsukiinhisschooluniformwithorangehair.jpg

deku deck-you: Toru helped me because my arms still hurt a lot when I grab things.

ranch flavored jello: My boy, Katsuki, looks like a god.

deku deck-you: I finally don't look like my mother anymore.

farmer toshi: I'll punt kick her for you, bro.

deku deck-you: Don't make me cry.

ranch flavored jello: Get to class, Kats. I'm waiting for you.

deku deck-you is now offline

8:15 AM

Existence  Is A Prison

ranch flavored jello: katsukisnewhair.vid

Video Transcript

Oh my god, Kacchan? -Unknown

Let me fucking explain maybe before you all just gang up on me and make me even more uncomfortable. -deku deck-you

My hag mom threw me out because I wouldn't drop from the Hero Course because it's too 'dangerous' for her liking now. So I'm living in the dorms, if you make fun of my hair, I'll have to kill you because Toru worked hard to make it look good on a time constraint -deku deck-you

I think it looks really good, Kacchan! - Unknown

I will still deck you, Deku, you damn nerd. -deku deck-you

[the camera shows that Katsuki is actually happy and smiling at Midoriya and he's being hugged by Aoyama as Aizawa comes into the room bandaged to the point of looking like a Halloween mummy decoration]

Transcript End

President Megaphone: God fucking dammit, Shouta!

farmer toshi: DAD!

ranch flavored jello: What's wrong?

President Megaphone: He wasn't supposed to start teaching again yet since he's still too injured for Recovery Girl's quirk to work on him.

gay salt: Don't worry, us dorm kids will make sure he doesn't do anything too dangerous.

President Megaphone: Fine, I guess.

3:15 PM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: I'm officially going back in the dorms, Aunt Nemuri came and got me. They knocked my hold down to twelve hours since I threw up since I haven't had anymore nausea or vomiting.

farmer toshi: My stubborn ass is at the store before I go home, do you guys need anything?

President Megaphone: Make sure you pick yourself up things that are liquid for the next couple days while you're on the mend before Recovery Girl can heal you.

farmer toshi: That's the plan. I've already procured blueberry yogurt drinks and silken tofu and soft ice cream and jellies and stuff. I wanted to know before I check out if anyone else needs anything.

gay salt: Yeah, grab me some boiled octopus and crab sticks if you can. I'm craving them.

foil-mecha: jagariko please, whichever one you find.

ranch flavored jello: Enoki, a bunch of them, and thick white bread.

feral cat dad: Just grab some extra jellies.

life is a nightmare: ham, bean sprouts, tofu, and eggs.

pure: Tofu and spam.

schrodinger better run: Milk, bacon, and eggs for my breakfast tomorrow.

nat20: cheese sausages and kimchi ramen, please.

saviour: Just tofu and edamame.

President Megaphone: aloe yoghurt.

farmer toshi: Got it. I'll be home in like a half hour. Be waiting for your groceries.

8:15 AM

Existence Is A Prison

schrodinger better run: @everyone I've made everyone breakfast! Even you, Shinsou and Mr. Aizawa. I made you two's food liquid for you.

schrodinger better run: Breakfast is eggs, pancakes, bacon, and tofu. I made the pancakes vegan friendly and I tried really hard to make the tofu like sausage for Toru and Ibara!

saviour: Thank you, Pony, I'm sure it'll be good no matter what.

ranch flavored jello: Thanks Pony, you're the best.

schrodinger better run: No problem!

schrodinger better run: And for Mr. Aizawa and Shinsou, I made you two your smoothie bags and some of the juice I made for you!

farmer toshi: Which ones?

schrodinger better run: For you, the vanilla coconut, chocolate peanut butter jelly, and guava orange juice. For Mr. Aizawa, spinach peanut butter banana, citrus berry, and guava orange juice.

feral cat dad: Thank you, pony.

feral cat dad: No, capitalize pony.

feral cat dad: Fucking speech to text.

feral cat dad: Pony. There we go.

schrodinger better run: Love you, Mr. Aizawa.

feral cat dad: Love you too, kid.

2:30 PM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Katsuki, Recovery Girl says she can likely heal you now that you're feeling better.

deku deck-you: Yeah, sure.

3:45 PM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: You feel okay, Kats?

deku deck-you: Yeah, just tired. I'm gonna take a nap. Wake me up for dinner.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

6:45 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Jeez, you get up early. I'll try to run with you tomorrow.

deku deck-you: I'm good running alone, Shinsou.

farmer toshi: Oh, okay.

deku deck-you: I mean, if you wanna, then go ahead, but I know you don't sleep well. Plus you have to rest up so Recovery Girl can heal you.

farmer toshi: I know, but I also know it sucks to run alone sometimes.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

6:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Shoot, I slept past my alarms.

deku deck-you: It's fine. As long as you're getting sleep, you don't have to run with me, Shinsou.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

6:35 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Fucking alarms weren't set.

deku deck-you: You needed the sleep, Shinsou. You were up late.

farmer toshi: Fine. But I'll catch you one of these mornings.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

6:15 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: I'm getting closer, you early bastard.

deku deck-you: Keep thinking that, Shinsou.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

5:55 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Now you're taunting me.

deku deck-you: You wish. I'm just good at waking up early.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

5:35 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: I JUST MISSED YOU!

farmer toshi: Get back here little bastard!

deku deck-you: shinsousprintingafterhim.jpg

life is a nightmare: What a wholesome ending.

deku deck-you: shinsoufellonme.jpg

President Michael: You good, kids?

deku deck-you: Yeah, we're good. My knee is a little achy but I'll be fine.

farmer toshi: Don't worry, I'll force him back if he's hurt, Uncle Zashi.

Taglist: @everythingisstardust

[poisonedapples]

Roman Gets Help 1/5: Bad Nights

Part One: Virgil

Part Summary: Roman is always trying to make his anxiety more manageable with a bunch of different tactics. But a disorder is a disorder, and some days are worse than others. But at least his best friend Virgil is around to help.

Part of the Service Dog AU!

Pairings: Platonic Prinxiety

Warnings: Past panic attacks, medication, anxiety, Remus making poop jokes because he’s Remus, swearing and food mentions

Word Count: 2,751

Taglist: @hold-our-destiny @pricklyfish777 @romansleftshoulderpad

Notes: Cornybird on Ao3 deserves Many Squishmallows for editing so much of my stuff, including this. So send visual squishmallow vibes to her, she deserves it

Virgil really should have known something was weird when Roman didn’t text back.

The two had made plans during lunch to meet up at Roman’s house so he could help with Virgil’s Spanish homework. Roman was infinitely better with language stuff than Virgil could ever dream to be, and even when the work was done, it was always nice to hang out in his room and get away from his wild parents every once in a while. But since Roman left school early and Virgil had to stay after for band practice, he hadn’t heard or seen Roman in a while.

That in itself wasn’t weird, though. What was weird was that when Virgil texted him that he was on his way, Roman didn’t respond. Not even with an emoji reaction or a simple ‘okay’. But even then, what was even weirder was that Virgil was right outside his door, texting Roman to open it for him, and he still wasn’t responding.

Virgil checked the last three messages he sent to Roman’s phone. All of them were marked as delivered but not read, which was also very concerning. What could Roman be doing that he hadn’t checked his phone in thirty minutes? Virgil got anxious when he didn’t read messages immediately, let alone waiting half an hour.

Virgil sent him one last text before putting his phone away. You there? I’m outside.

No response. Virgil knocked on the door and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting and shifting on his feet for someone to open the door. After a couple minutes, he started to think Roman had just forgotten.

However, a slight spark of hope rose up in him at the sound of the front door opening. But when Virgil looked up from his shoes to the person at the door, he felt his shoulders sag.

It wasn’t Roman who had opened the door. There was no shy and apologetic smile with Princess right under his feet. Instead, it was his bastard brother in ripped jeans and a green tank top, blowing bubblegum like a bully in a 90s Nickelodeon show.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite emo! What brings you here, Raven Way?” Remus asked, leaning on the door frame with a cocky smile.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You’ve already used that one.”

“It’s my favorite nickname for you. It’s the perfect brand of insulting. It has spice to it.”

“I’m glad you’re entertained then. Is Roman out somewhere?”

Remus cocked an eyebrow. “No, he’s been up in his room. Last I checked he was as passed out as a corpse.”

“Okay...can I come in then?”

Remus smiled and opened the door for Virgil, taking a bow as he stepped inside. Virgil rolled his eyes again. This guy is so fucking weird. “You know where his room and the shitter is. Just follow the trail of dog hair to his royal highness.”

“You terrify me, Remus.”

“Good! That’s the aesthetic I’m going for. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a bigass thing of chili dip in the fridge that may or may not be expired. We’ll see!” Virgil’s eyes narrowed as Remus skipped back to the kitchen and right to the fridge, but he really didn’t want to be around for that mess. Instead, Virgil went upstairs and turned left to Roman’s room, the colorful Disney decorations covering his door. Virgil knocked twice, but when met with no answer, he came inside anyway.

The first thing Virgil noticed was the lights. The windows and blinds were shut tight so no sunlight could get through while Roman’s fairy lights around his room were turned on. The soft twinkling gave the room a feeling of calmness, but the sight on the bed was more concerning than tranquil. Princess was sat down on top of the bed comforter with two arms wrapped around her, Roman blending in with the sheets he was under as he shoved his face in his dog’s fur. At least she didn’t seem to mind.

Roman looked up at the sound of the door opening. Virgil felt his heart sink when he saw the tear streaks down his face and his messed up hair, but Roman tried his best to respond to Virgil anyway. “Hey…”

Virgil took off his shoes and threw his backpack onto the floor next to the door. “Hey, dude. You look like shit.”

Roman made a strange huff sound, probably meant to be a laugh. “Thanks.”

He buried his face back into Princess’ fur, and Virgil felt that pang of worry grow stronger. He moved to the other side of the bed, sitting alongside Roman and his pile of blankets and pillows. “You okay?”

Roman shrugged. “I’m doing better.”

“What happened?”

“Panic attack.”

Virgil sucked the air through his teeth as a way to say yikes. “Seems like it was a pretty bad one.”

Princess rolled over onto Roman’s chest, and Roman cuddled even closer than what Virgil thought was possible. He looked so small when he did that. “Worse than usual.”

“Do you know what caused it?”

“No. Sometimes it just happens.” Roman kissed the top of Princess’ head. “Anxiety just...does that.”

“Yeah, I get it. Trust me, out of everyone you know, I’d probably be the one to understand it the most.”

“...Yeah.”

An awkward silence fell between the two of them. Virgil didn’t actually know what to do when Roman was like this. He’s stopped him from having panic attacks in the past, but he’d never seen him look this bad. Roman was curled in on himself under the covers, gripping onto Princess for dear life in an attempt to soothe himself. His pile of stuffed animals usually spread around the bed were now in a giant pile around his body, and his weighted blanket poked out from under the comforter too. It looked like he was trying his hardest to get comfortable, and Virgil didn’t know what else he could do. A distraction? A nap?

Well, only one way to find out.

Virgil took a deep breath in. “...Is there any way I can help?”

Roman shrugged again. “Not that I know.”

“Did you take a nap? That usually helps me the most.”

“I just woke up. My meds knocked me out.”

“Your meds?”

Roman took a pill bottle from his nightstand and showed it to Virgil. He read the confusing label that all medicine bottles have, but the name of the pills was long and unfamiliar in Virgil’s mind. Roman placed them back once Virgil got a good look and curled in on himself more. “Panic attack meds. They help you calm down really quick when you’re having an attack. They always put me to sleep after. Remus likes to call them my tranquilizer dart.”

Virgil snorted. “I mean...accurate name. I’ve just never seen you with those before.”

“I only take them on bad days. My therapist warned me about how I shouldn’t take them after every panic attack, because then I’ll never learn how to deal with them on my own, and I might get addicted. Which I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, I know about the addiction thing. I used to be on anti-anxiety until last year.”

Roman tilted his head up to look at Virgil for the first time. “Really?”

“Yup. I got eased off them after a while, though. Now I just take an antidepressant, which honestly isn’t much. I think everyone in our friend group is on some kind of meds.”

“...Patton?” Roman asked.

“Patton’s one depressed mother fucker. I say that out of love, but yes, he’s also on antidepressants.”

“And Logan?”

“...Dude. Epilepsy.”

Roman let out a silent oh. “...I forgot you take meds for that.”

“Our brains are fucked up and we accept this.”

Roman flashed a small smile but didn’t respond. After that, the two had fell silent as Virgil awkwardly patted a beat on his leg to put his nervous fidgeting to use.

What do you do for someone getting out of a panic attack? It was obvious Roman wasn’t in a talking mood, but it was killing him inside to just...sit there while he looked so helpless. But he’d never had to deal with this with a friend before. The worst he’d dealt with were Patton’s bad depression days, and those had nothing on how horrible Roman looked right now. And if he already took a nap...what else were you supposed to do after a panic attack?

Virgil thought back to his own experiences. Of course, Virgil’s anxiety was nothing compared to Roman’s, but it was better than nothing. And comfort worked no matter how bad you felt, even if it was only a little.

He thought back to his own parents. How his mom would hold him and let him cry into his shoulder if he needed to, but that was too awkward for him to do with Roman. His dad would let him curl up and watch him play games on the console, which could maybe work…

...Then Virgil remembered another thing his mom did once after one of his worst panic attacks. It might be a bit embarrassing because of intimacy, but it would help Roman feel better. And that’s all that matters.

“I’m gonna go get some stuff, okay?” Virgil said, “You stay right here.”

Roman hummed. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere, but okay.”

With that, Virgil hopped out of Roman’s bed and left the bedroom.

First, he needed a water bottle. Roman probably had some water when he took his meds, but it likely wasn’t enough to stop a headache after all the crying. Virgil went downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. While he was there, he looked through the rest of the fridge and noticed that there was no container of chili dip in there anymore. Gross.

Expired chili dip aside, he would need a face rag as well. Virgil went through a hallway on the first floor to the older bathroom downstairs, looking through the drawers for a decent cloth. A small one was hidden in the back of the drawer with some bottles of face wash and lotion, so Virgil grabbed that and took a mental note to put it back later. He stood in front of the faucet and stared at it for a while.

Was cold or hot water better for getting tears off someone’s face? Warm water seemed like it’d be more comfortable, but cold water could also be more refreshing. He thought about the possibilities for a while and settled on warm based on his own preferences, turning the hot and cold handles to where the water was only slightly warm, wetting a side of the cloth then turning the faucet off.

Before he left the bathroom, Virgil grabbed a couple squares of toilet paper and then headed out the door. He was back in Roman’s room not even five minutes later, setting his stuff on the nightstand for a second as he grabbed his DS from his bag and turned it on. Roman glanced up from the bed with a confused look, but didn’t say anything. Virgil came back next to the bed and motioned for Roman to move to the middle. Reluctantly, and with some shifting of Princess still at his side, Roman did so.

Virgil sat in Roman’s old spot and grabbed the wad of toilet paper. “Here, sit up and blow your nose. The last thing you need right now is more breathing problems.”

Roman grunted as she shimmied out from under his weighted blanket to sit up against the headboard of his bed. He took the toilet paper from Virgil and blew. “...Thanks.”

“No problem. Now just stick with me for this next part, because I’m not good with touchy-touchy shit, so this’ll be a little awkward.”

Roman gave Virgil a confused look, but he didn’t say anything. He grabbed the damp cloth and silently tilted Roman’s head to face him. Virgil tentatively lifted the cloth to his face and wiped the tears from under his eyes, the gesture mixed with the warm water making Roman hum in content. Virgil didn’t acknowledge what was happening, he just wiped off his friend’s face, flipping to the dry part of the cloth to dry him off after.

“There. That should help you feel less gross, anyway.”

“Thanks...it helped.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Virgil set the cloth to the side and handed Roman the water bottle. “And drink this, it’ll help with that nasty headache you probably have.”

Roman twisted the cap open and chugged the bottle, finishing half of it in record speed before putting it down again. Virgil could tell by how fast he chugged it that his head was probably throbbing.

“Feeling a little better now?” Roman nodded. “Wanna watch me play Harvest Moon until you probably pass out again?”

He nodded again, Virgil scooting closer to him so Roman could place his head on his shoulder as he watched. His hand combed through Princess’ fur as Princess trapped the other under her paw to lick. Most people would think it was gross, but considering licking was one of her grounding techniques, he was desensitized to it by now. “Which one do you have?”

“A New Beginning. I’ll show you all my cows because they’re bomb as fuck. My first cow is named Oven and I have a baby one named Chaos.”

Roman laughed as Virgil started up the game. “Awesome. You play it often?”

“Eh, sometimes. It’s not my favorite game, but I carry it with me because it’s good for calming anxiety down. All I gotta do is feed my animals and mine and shit. Nothing else matters, you know?”

Roman nodded as best he could from Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil loaded up his save file and started to show Roman around his farm, mostly skipping the crops and going straight to the pets and farm animals with the most ridiculous names Virgil could get away with using only six letters. Virgil chatted away about his game and read all the speech bubbles out loud, showing off his wife who he swears he married platonically since his character was obviously gay and talking about his rivalry with the hair stylist. Roman wasn’t responding much, just a few hums and little laughs here and there, but Virgil didn’t mind. So long as his friend was feeling better, that was all that mattered.

A while later, Virgil was baking desserts for a contest being held in town when he spoke up again. “I’m shit at cooking good stuff in this game, but I can make some neat pancakes, apparently. I’m gonna make this contest my bitch.”

There was no response. That wasn’t very strange in itself, but usually when Virgil sweared, Roman at least made a small huff of a laugh from his shoulder. But this time, he was completely quiet. Virgil looked over at his shoulder when he almost awwww’ed out loud.

Roman had fallen back asleep, his mouth open slightly with his arms cuddling Princess extra close as she seemed to relax alongside him. He was adorable, and in a moment of softness that Virgil would deny to the end of his days, he helped Roman to lay back in bed and brushed the hair out of his face. Roman still clung slightly to him even as he slept, so Virgil accepted his fate and moved to curl up alongside him, continuing his game with a smile on his face.

“Your sleep schedule is gonna be absolutely fucked, dude.” Virgil said. There was no response, obviously, and Virgil didn’t talk to his sleeping friend after that. He just took a mental note to tell his parents he was staying the night before it got too late and kept caring for his farm.

Maybe later he’d wake Roman up and get him some dinner, letting him recharge and take a shower before they actually had to go to bed. He’d be too awake to actually sleep at first, but the company of his friend and the comfort of his dog would keep him calm through that, even when Roman hated being awake past eleven. Patton may even find out and tease Virgil about having a heart after all, which Virgil would deny until the end of his days. But his edgy reputation wasn’t what mattered right now.

Instead, Virgil smiled and cuddled closer as Roman slept peacefully.

[abbystanaccount]

Owen’s Aquarium Analysis

I was thinking about the various aspects of Owen’s Aquarium when it’s at its peak, during the Winter visit, and I just wanted to talk about it, throw some of my thoughts and interpretations out there.

This is where Owen has frequented for the past three years whenever he wanted to get away from the WLF. Abby has maybe been there a few times since their first discovery, but she hasn’t been in a long time. Personally I LOVE the way Owen reacts when he first sees her at the door. He’s very surprised, she asks him a question and it takes a second to answer because he’s busy thinking of how happy he is that she showed up at his home, the place he’s found solace in for the past few years.

The Aquarium is basically representative of Owen’s mind and his headspace. Owen’s in a pretty good spot when Abby comes to visit him in this flashback. He has games set up, he’s completely cleaned up the Aquarium trying to making it homey. But the fantastical set up is also a bit of a façade, Owen still has some issues with where he is in the world. His relationship with Mel is good (she can be really sweet sometimes), but Owen is hesitant to talk about Mel because whenever Abby is here, that’s all he can really focus on. When Abby gets there, all he wants to do now is hang out with her because he missed her. They’re playful, bantering, flirting a little, giving each other a hard time, it’s the Abby/Owen way 😌. He has a “selective memory”, and this Aquarium has many of his good memories.

The hooch. In this flashback and the present we see Owen drinking his homemade hooch, here it’s in celebration that Abby came to visit, later it’s because he’d drowning his sorrows. The fact that he makes his own alcohol, has a beer pong table, and can stand the taste of the hooch while Abby can’t, points to him drinking at least somewhat frequently. 

I’d also like to equate the hooch to his dreams of sailing away from it all and finding the Fireflies again. Owen has been making his own hooch and has also been trying to convince the other Salt Lake Crew that they should all look into the leads about the Fireflies. Up at the cafe when he offers Abby some, he enjoys it and he invites her to stay and see the view, Abby rejects both things like she did his notion of finding the Fireflies. Later on the boat he is consumed in his idea to leave and find the Fireflies (parallel to his drinking), then when he offers Abby some and to come sail away she declines.

Owen’s mural... he adds to Max’s mural and creates Salt Lake City on the wall, you can see the zebra’s and giraffe’s from Abby and Ellie’s memories in the foreground. The zebra memory and being in St Mary’s with Abby before Joel arrived were the last real happy memories they had, the last time they were still innocent and carefree. Owen memorializes these happy times through his art and puts it in a place he can look at frequently.

Abby also has a similar landscape painting she took from her dad’s office, it might also but of Salt Lake City, so she much like Owen kept those memories close. However I don’t know if Owen painted this one too, might be a little weird to paint your supervisor and secret gf’s dad a painting, idk. 🤷‍♀️

In relation to the Aquarium being like Owen’s mind, Owen projects to the world he’s happy with Mel, he tries to not think about Abby and get hung up on her, but because she still exists, she’s still around, that’s very hard for him. He is hesitant to write Abby on the board even though he says Mel won’t care, he knows that Mel will a bit, because it’s announcing that Abby was here. I feel like it had often been a discussion between Owen and Mel whether or not Owen was over Abby and Owen tried to convince her and himself he was, but it’s really not true.

Owen is a really sweet and creative person, he’d much rather be chilling in his Aquarium, getting it nice, or painting a mural or sketching (like his drawing of Abby). He warms up the entire place, except for maybe the hole in the roof he thinks it too much work to finish.  That’s probably very true, he is only one guy, but even besides the hole Owen shows an intense dedication to making the place fun, he lugged over party supplies seemingly by himself. 

Owen also doesn’t let anyone really know about the Aquarium. Manny only knew at the end because Abby told him, and Nora only knew from Manny. So for years it was just Owen’s thing. He offers to let Abby come “if she’s nice to him,’ he does want to share with her. It’s open to interpretation that maybe she never returned until this point because of her “skeleton” comment but I don’t like that so I like to think she did come back at least a few times, maybe it was less cleaned up though. It seems like since they broke up though, Owen has dedicated time to improving his Aquarium and starting anew. Once Owen starts dating Mel he eventually shows her the Aquarium and he hopes she’ll embrace it more than Abby did, which she does.

Their relationship became draining because of Abby’s revenge mission, and after they break up they both dedicate themselves to new things, Abby really ramps up her training and Scar killing, Owen tries to build a relationship with Mel and transform his Aquarium into something he can enjoy and live it. The issue there is Abby’s mission is just digging her deeper into a hole, and Owen can’t move on with Mel when Abby exists and he’s still in love and hung up on her.

This shot is pretty obvious, Abby is right in front of the Mel stocking, blocking it out. In another timeline where she wasn’t so caught up with Joel, it would have been her stocking there instead of Mel’s, Owen would have decorated the Aquarium for her and not Mel, and I think she sees that here. She’s even facing the Ferris wheel where they first ran away to. Owen is looking at this entire scene, and he can see it as well, it’s a gut punch to him that these are the circumstances. 

Owen still wants Abby to move on, he was overjoyed to have her visit him, play his archery game, just chat. It’s a rude awakening when he finds out she was there to just tell him that they’d found a lead on Joel, and that she’d already told the rest of the Crew including Mel about it. He’s feeling a bit betrayed by Abby here and pressured to join them. Owen wants what Abby wants, but he already sees how much pain its caused her and he doesn’t want more people than necessary getting hurt. But everyone else already said they would go and at one point or another he promised Abby they were in this together, and he’d never go back on his word for her.

I just want to touch on the state of the Aquariums when we see it, when we first see the Aquarium it’s not really Owen’s yet, it’s been abandoned and he had yet to put his work into it. Then three years later, it’s full his and representative of who he is. We see it after Jackson too, but it’s much more subdued and dreary because he’s been suffering mentally. If you focus on Owen during the Joel torture scenes you can really see how shook he was seeing Abby shoot Joel’s leg off, and he had to leave the room with Mel while she tortured Joel. Owen blames himself for not stopping her on this revenge quest, she’s finally doing it and it’s horrible to watch. 

Afterwards, Owen has retreated from others completely. The others are pissed at him when he disagreed about letting Ellie and Tommy go. How Abby behaved scared him. He doesn’t even want the new life with Mel, he just wants out of here by himself, everything else is too painful. When he shoots Danny, Owen realizes leaving is his only option is to go because he can’t stand to be in the WLF anymore. Owen wants to go back to a time when he was happy and working towards a real cause: the Fireflies. He still faces major hurdles though, the boat is broken and the WLF are going to come after him. Abby finds him curled up, retreated as far as he can go into his safe place. Waiting for someone to come and kill him for what he did. 

Then last time we go to the Aquarium, it is completely silent, eerie, and dead, Owen’s dreams of escaping to a better, happier life, shattered.

Sorry to end it on depression but that’s how it is 💔 except in happier au’s like mine lol.

Also side note, Abby saying “of course” when she sees the boat light on and not assuming he’s in the cafe or something, makes me think they returned there together at some point and more spent time there. So maybe that’s a less sad note.

[gayregis]

what's a witcher headcanon you have but has literally nothing to back it up?

like i know eskel would be scary good at estimating times for a microwave and milva would be a god at jenga. why/how do i know this? who's to say

i can actually somewhat explain both of those headcanons. eskel either can cook (correct, wholesome headcanon) or can’t (wrong, stereotypical canon) and both of these possibilities mean he has to know how to use a microwave really really well. as for milva, butches love construction, jenga is practically the science of building houses but as a game.

as for my own... hm kind of difficult because a lot of my headcanons are based in canon so... some of these are more connected to canon than others, but they’re closer to my own uniqueness rather than sapkowski’s work:

dandelion

dandelion’s family (the de lettenhoves) paid for his college education in exchange that he would never use his true name and titles when he published his works, because they are a family largely involved in governmental appointments, and did not want any horrible saucy love poetry (most of what he wrote when he was nineteen) being linked back to them. to this day they’ve disowned him, he lost his lands, and he is forbidden from coming back to any of their estates if not undercover. it’s all very hush-hush. they tricked him into thinking that it was for his own good, telling him that his real name was far too famous, even more famous that he would be soon...

dandelion’s father died when he was young, which led his mother to guide his childhood (basically instructing the servants to raise him) in a strict and masculine direction... this obviously did not work out as planned. but it’s largely why dandelion is regarded as a disappointment by his family, because he was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps to stay at the estates (ha!) and marry (ha!) to create an alliance with another noble family.

dandelion and essi’s entire backstory that i’ve planned out: essi enrolled as a student at oxenfurt and as a first year she was appointed by the department to be under dandelion’s guidance. they hit it off on the wrong foot at first (essi thought dandelion was lazy and slovenly, dandelion thought she was prissy and stuckup). but dandelion quickly recognized that essi was extremely talented and had a gift for music, so he asked her why in hell was she directed for further guidance? she admitted that she had stage fright... horrible stage fright. he laughed, thinking she was joking. she wasn’t. the story that follows then is that essi’s stage fright was symbolized by her iconic hair which fell over one eye, which was mocked by her peers - dandelion advised her to own it instead and turn it into a persona - much like what he did when he was her age, his peers called him dandelion (buttercup) on account of his blonde hair that has a tendancy to fan out like petals, and he adopted it as his persona.

on a similar note, what dandelion’s office at oxenfurt looks like: it’s basically treated as a walk-in closet for outfits he’s purchased but doesn’t have a permanent space elsewhere for. other valuables that can’t be kept on his person or in his saddlebags are kept here too. it’s much less of an office to do work and way more of a storage room. the desk has many finished bottles of alcoholic drinks and a lot of manuscripts stored inside (his own, because of the works he admires, he can recall from memory precisely what was written in them)

milva (sorry all of them are about her being a lesbian)

the dryads of brokilon adore milva more than they would ever let on. they find her very interesting because she’s a human, but she’s also one of them, but she also works with the scoia’tel. when milva comes back to brokilon after a journey, she finds herself crowded by dryads asking her how she is doing and what happened on her trip. because of this, milva’s quite good at storytelling, in her own colloquialisms and manners of speech. the dryads are captured by her stories of the world beyond brokilon, and very much enjoy her company, though milva was unaware of exactly how much they enjoyed it (if you get what i’m saying). 

milva realizes she’s a lesbian in toussaint because of her encounter with the baron de trastamara, in which she rebuked his marriage proposal and cried at the kitchen table and in the stables. she appreciated the baron’s friendship more than his romantic advances, and she was crying because she was upset that she couldn’t find true romance in her heart for him. angouleme states at the kitchen table that the hunting trip was overnight, suggesting that the baron asked milva for sex. i headcanon that he did, and milva couldn’t find it in herself to say yes. when the baron became upset at this and pestered her a little to find out why she refused his advances, she had an emotional outburst at him and left at once, for she herself didn’t really know.

additionally, many of the women shopkeepers in toussaint flirted with milva but she didn’t understand their advances. particularly a fishmonger and a fletcher, both of which are OCs... it wasn’t until angouleme (not giving milva an option on whether to accept her company or not) followed milva around on errands one day that she witnessed their interactions and then (in a very annoying little sister manner) bugged milva about how cute of a couple they would be, to which milva took shock and offense. but this got milva thinking about the subject.

regis

regis took on a variety of ridiculous titles when he was younger. “the prince of darkness” and things like this. it added to his already quite-long name. it sounded as stupid as it does with me explaining it.

regis has never paid rent or taxes. he acquired the house and shop in dilingen because he came to the city after he had rehabilitated himself, and found it in a state of disrepair and abandonment. he fixed it up very nicely (perhaps much like as he did with himself... symbolism!) and grew flowers in the windowsills. when city officials came to investigate, accusing him of taking up residence illegally, he simply placed them under a vampire’s spell and told them: “nonsense, i’ve always lived here!” to which they replied, “oh, of course you have, master barber-surgeon! apologies for bothering you!”

in his house and shop in dilingen, the layout is like this: the first floor is the shop, which carries a variety of medicaments, herbal remedies, and also has a setup for surgery. behind a hidden door is the stash of mandrake brew that only select customers know to request (regis only tells them about it if he has vetted them beforehand - i.e., known them well and known them well enough that he knows he will not start an addiction for them, i.e., he doesn’t sell to the young and stupid, or horribly depressed and afraid, but just those looking to enjoy life). the second floor is his house, which is decorated sparsely much like his cottage nearby fen carn. it’s nicer, with furnishings sourced from around the city, but is still humble. the attic is the setup for barber-surgery, but for birds - mostly corvids but other urban birds as well, that have injured themselves or are having other troubles. he welcomes them to roost and come to him with any problems they may be having.

angouleme

angouleme’s biological mother was young(ish) when she had her, which also pressured her into giving her up to relatives - she was an unmarried maiden, and being a noble, that is significant for making political alliances with other noble families. they pretended she was a virgin so she could remarry and bear children in marriage; however, because she and the other nobility of cintra were slaughtered, caught right in the crossfire of the nilfgaardian massacre of cintra, she didn’t survive into her first pregnancy, so angouleme has no bioligical half-siblings.

angouleme is trans and likes dressing femininely, but on account of her situation was never able to on the road, until she got to toussaint and had not only the safety but the finances to do so. somewhat based on canon that she was happy to get out of riding pants in lady of the lake, the narration calls her a “pretty girl”... it’s just nice to imagine her happy and with gender euphoria instead of dysphoria

regis is a good mentor and guardian to her in toussaint. it started as them both being up late in the kitchen and regis (as he does) giving advice, without suggesting any shame or judgement. after a while, angouleme trusted him enough to ask him for help when she got into trouble with local banditry. thens he invited him to help her on heists. he was hesitant at first but agreed, citing that she needed supervision for such activities. he brings a book to read while she does whatever she needs to do, but perhaps is more involved than he would admit - pointing out hidden safes and such in the darkness with his vision.

i didn’t do any for cahir or geralt because i feel like canon’s already gotten them enough? 

[lifeofroos]

Part 34: This chapter is made up of two parts: The first part is just your dose of This Might Be Crazy. The second part is a story I wrote years ago, which I think fits the main story. 

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. In this chapter, sits down for a talk with Hephaestus. The rest can be found on AO3 and FanFiction.net! Also in Tumblr tags like Nico di Angelo, Dionysus, fanfic etc. 

This Might Be Crazy: Chapter 34: Cappuchino 

I knocked on the gates to Hepaestus’ workshop. The doors opened without making a  sound. I peeked inside. There was no-one to be seen, but I did hear the sound of a hammer hitting an anvil. I didn’t know whether that was because Hephaestus was working on something or if it was just for dramatic effect. 

Slowly, I walked inside. As soon as I was a few metres in, the gates began to close, causing me to quickly jump further into the workshop. With a slow thud, the doors closed behind me. 

A little shaken through, I looked around. ‘Eh…’

Out of nowhere, an automaton in the shape of a giant insect appeared in front of me. ‘Do you have an appointment?’ 

I stared at it. ‘Not exactly…’

‘Then you leave.’

‘Hey! I did not come without cause! I got something for Hephaestus!’

The automaton did not budge. ‘No appointment…’

‘Let him in.’ The automaton dissappeared at once, while Hephaestus limped into the room. In the background, the hammering went on (Which meant that it was definitely for dramatic effect). 

Hephaestus studied me from head to toe. ‘Nico di Angelo, right?’

I nodded. ‘Yes.’ I could not see his entire body. There wasn’t enough light. I wondered whether Hephaestus had done that on purpose. 

He scratched his ear. ‘What is it?’

‘Eh… I need decorations for a cabinet.’ I wasn’t going to mention that I got it from IKEA. 

‘I can do that. Is it at camp?’

‘Yes, in my cabin.’

Hephaestus nodded. He snapped his fingers and in a second my cabinet appeared. 

He laid his hand on the top for a second. ‘Hm. I know what I can do with this.’ He looked back at me. ‘Maybe you should come with me while I work.’

I nodded while I walked after him. 

After five minutes of watching Hephaestus work fast as lighting, I scraped my throat. ‘You know I get therapy from Dionysus, right?’

‘Therapy, is that what you call it?’ The blacksmith looked up from his work for a second. 

‘Yes.’ 

‘Hm. When I had it, they just called it ‘dragging you back to your senses.’’

‘Ah-ha. Eh, that is what I came here to talk about, actually.’

Hephaestus let his work rest and leaned back for a second. His metal brace clicked. 

‘I am not ashamed that I needed his help. But neither am I ashamed of what I did that made him realise I needed it. It might have been wrong, it might still be wrong, but I am not ashamed.’

He meant tying Hera to her throne as revenge. Right. ‘I think I understand.’ 

‘I don’t think you do.’ He coughed and adjusted his leg brace. I did not see what needed to be adjusted, but okay. 

‘You probably know the story. All the gods try to get me to free Hera. They all fail, except for young Dionysus, who managed to get me so drunk that I willingly came along. Except, no.’

I was confused by the last sentence for a second. ‘He… you mean he didn’t get you drunk?’

‘Does he intoxicate you? Of course not. Neither did he intoxicate me. The other gods just couldn’t fathom the fact that he had been a puny mortal so soon before.’ Softly, his hands stroked the silver decorations he had just attached to my cabinet.

‘Eh, this does not surprise me,’ I said after a pause.

‘I am not surprised it does not. You seem clever enough.’ He coughed again. I moved back a little. 

‘Hm.’ He snapped his fingers. A table came walking over, with two cups of cappuccino on top.

I took my cup, even though I had little interest in drinking it. The last cup of coffee I had gotten from Hephaestus was abhorent. I did not expect this one to be much better.

‘I don’t think he knew what to expect when he came to see me,’ Hephaestus continued, ‘Maybe someone in a fury, maybe someone who was depressed. Probably something in between. But no matter what, he treated me like it didn’t matter. The way he would treat any other guy. Came by, helped out in the workshop…’ the blacksmith rolled his eyes for a second, ‘... So called help, at least. Half of the time he was ‘helping’ me, he was an inconvenience. But when I needed someone to talk to…’ he shrugged. ‘You know that yourself.’

‘Yes.’ I did. 

He took a sip of cappuccino. ‘Well, slowly, we get onto the subject of Hera. Why I had chained her up, what it did with me to live with my actions, and what would be the best thing to do next.’ He took another thoughtful sip. ‘Dionysus did not want to talk about what would be best for the universe. He meant what was best for me.’ Hephaestus shrugged. ‘Now, that turned out to be the best for the universe as well. Yet, I know I would have been worse off if I had kept Hera chained up.’

I raised my eyebrows. The universe would have been worse with Hera chained up?

‘You can look at me like that, but it is the truth, young man.’ 

Sure, sure, balance and all that. I took the tini-tiniest sip of my cappuccino. And would you have it, it actually tasted good. 

‘Eventually, I was the person who said we should go back to Olympus. Now, that wasn’t easy for two outcasts. We had to travel by donkey, which…’ he sighed. ‘But still, he kept helping me. Kept talking to me. And I began to feel like we would get to Olympus, and it would be fine.’ 

There was something in his tone that got me concerned. ‘What happened next?’

‘You’re an observatory young man. What happened is that your therapist, as you call him, caught a horrible fever, so that I had to take care of him instead of the other way around.’ 

Wait. What? Dionysus had been immortal at this point. ‘How did he even catch a fever?’

‘He must have been more mortal then he seemed. I…’ the god sighed, a little sad. ‘I was worried. It might have been the most worried I have been in my entire life. He was terribly ill and I was afraid I would lose him. After all that happened, I couldn’t afford to. If he would have died, I would have gone back.’

‘But… he didn’t.’

‘No, he didn’t. That is why I am the blacksmith of the gods, Hera is free, nature grows as before and my friend got to live his life.’ 

The god took a sip of his cappuccino.

‘Sorry for asking,’ I muttered. I stared into my cup.

‘It’s okay. I was actually expecting you to come over someday, after what I said when you were here with Hades.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘And I know you won’t blab.’ 

‘Of course not!’ 

‘Good.’ He looked at my cabinet. ‘I just need a few more minutes.’

‘Take all the time you need.’ 

Indeed a few minutes later, my cabinet was just the way I wanted it. ‘Here. I hope you get some use out of it.’

‘I will.’

‘Good.’ He wiped his hands on a cloth. ‘I also hope you learned something today.’

‘I think I did.’ 

‘Hm. If you take away anything, please let it be that Dionysus wants to help you for you. Not for anyone else.’

I nodded, a little slow. 

Hephaestus gave me a single nod. ‘Okay. Then Sierra will see you out.’ 

The automaton from earlier appeared in a second.

Swiftly, I stood up. I scooped up my cappuccino and took a large gulp. ‘Okay, Thanks, bye!’

‘The cabinet will follow you.’

Thanks, that is horrifying. I walked after the automaton, to the gates of the forge. 

When I was back in my cabin, I stared at my cabinet and thought. Yes, I learned something today. 

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

A/N: Bonus chapter, maybe? Anyway, Leo and Hephaestus story, which I wrote ages ago and I thought fitted the This Might Be Crazy chapter. 

Leo was alone in bunker 9, repairing something for Frank which he had promised to repair ages ago. It didn’t go so well, even though repairing a sword was usually brainless work. His mind was constantly trailing off. A lot of things went wrong the past few days. Aside from screwing a few screws the wrong way and latting a vat of mild greek fire explode, he had forgotten Annabeth’s birthday, camp half-blood’s 3900 year anniversary and the weekly get-together of the Hephaestus cabin, and who knows what else that people just had not told him about yet. 

The third time Leo accidently hit himself with his hammer, he screamed and angrily threw it across the room. ‘Curse this whole damned world and everything that can go wrong in it!’ He screeched. 

‘That’s not very nice. I didn’t expect to hear that from you.’ Leo gasped and turned around. Hephaestus had appeared behind him. 

Leo lowered his arms. ‘I am sorry if....’ 

Hephaestus shook his head.  ‘I think you are having some problems with the world around you.’ Leo nodded.

‘I just can’t seem to remember my appointments, I drop everything I hold and now my thumb is bleeding as well.’

‘We can fix your bleeding thumb.’ Hephaestus pulled a band-aid out of thin air and put it around his sons’ finger. ‘So. Slightly better?’ 

Leo shrugged. ‘I guess it is one issue less.’

Hephaestus nodded a bit. ‘One step at the time. Someone told me that once.’

‘Someone did?’ Leo looked up when there came no answer. The gods’ gaze was muddled, as if he was somewhere else with his thoughts. 

‘Thetis, I can’t tell you how thankful I am that you allowed me to live in your house but I have to leave. I need to get back to Olympus.’

 Hephaestus looked at the nymph in front of him, who was rubbing her hands together.  ‘Are you sure about this, Hephaestus? Your mother threw you out, back when... aren’t you afraid she’ll do it again?’ The god shook his head. 

‘I have a plan. It will be okay.’ The nymph sighed. ‘Take care and don’t forget that if things go wrong up there, you’ll always have a place here, where I live.’ She gave him a small smile. 

‘I will. And I’ll never forget that you were the one who raised me and cared for me, I promise.’ 

Thetis’ smile became broader. ‘Have a save trip, Hephaestus.’

‘Dad? Dad!’ Leo’s voice brought Hephaestus back to reality. 

‘What? Oh, I was just thinking about something.’  the god scraped his throat. ‘Have you taken a moment to think about why you have been forgetting your appointments?’ He asks. Leo shrugged. 

‘Not really, I guess. It just keeps happening.’

‘Maybe you should think about it for a little while.’ 

‘Alright.’ Leo looked at his hands, and quickly trailed off in thought, not realizing that the same happened to his father.

The other Olympians stared at Hephaestus with wide eyes. Some of them backed away. Hephaestus was looking at his mother. She was furious, afraid and a little sad at the same time. Hephaestus took a deep breath. ‘Once again, thanks for the way you treated me, mother. And to the others: don’t try to release her, because nothing will work.’ He looked around the room one more time, before walking away. No-one dared to say anything.

With a start, Hephaestus looked up. Leo was talking.

‘I did have a lot of appointments the past few weeks and I must confess that I didn’t write those down anywhere. Yet, that doesn’t explain why I forgot our cabin meeting or the anniversary of Camp Half-blood, because everyone was talking about those all day long. It is not like I had a lot of projects that were distracting me. I mean, maybe…’

Four gods had already tried to persuade him into freeing Hera. Ares had threatened him, Athena had tried to reason, Poseidon had told him he would flood the forge and Demeter had said she would let all the plants around the forge die. None of it had had any effect. 

Hephaestus looked over at the door, just as the fifth ambassador walked into the workshop. He looked extremely young and somehow didn’t feel like the others. He wasn’t mortal, but he wasn’t fully immortal either.

He didn’t say anything, until Hephaestus spoke: ‘If you are here just to ask me to free Hera, just go away already and don’t waste my or your own time.’ 

‘That’s not why I am here.’ Hephaestus shook his head. 

‘Then why are you? Listen, kid, four gods have tried to persuade me the last few weeks. So just get onto that, alright?’ The stranger chuckled.

‘My lord, I am not here for that, and even if I was, I do not think there is a lot I could do. I do not have Athena’s wit or Poseidons’ power over the sea. And I could not try fighting you if I wanted to. Why, you are at least fifty centimetres taller than I am.’

‘I…’ Hephaestus stopped talking. He hadn’t realized that this stranger was, in fact, very small compared to him. Actually, he seemed to be the same height as most mortals (maybe even on the slightly short side), which confused him even more. He narrowed his eyes. ‘You might be right. Tell me your name and what you want.’

‘... and I think that might be why I have forgotten nearly everything in the last few weeks.’ Hephaestus jerked his head up. He hadn’t heard anything Leo just said. His son sarcastically raised his eyebrows. ‘So I think I might get a diary, ask people to remind me of my appointments and make sure I work extra carefully the next couple of days.’ Leo smirked. ‘You know, dad, you were right. This whole thinking thing really works. Now, can you tell me what you were thinking about?’ 

Hephaestus shrugged. ‘You notice more than people think.’ Leo nodded.

‘I tend to.’ 

‘We are really walking all the way from Lemnos to Olympus, so I can free Hera from her throne.’ 

Dionysus sighed. ‘True. It is strange that we are technically helping the other Olympians now. I mean, what have they ever done for us? We are outcasts, we don’t have any fancy flying chariots or great magic like they do and they are still relying on us for help!’ 

Hephaestus laughed. ‘I guess that is the Olympians for you!’ He sighed. ‘Another thing. Deep inside, I want to be an Olympian and I don’t know why. Maybe it is the feeling of inclusion?’ Hephaestus turned his head to his companion, who had stopped walking. ‘Dio? What do you think?’ The other god sighed as well. 

‘Could be. For me, I think... I just became a god, you know. No warning, no-one asking me if I even wanted to, nothing. Maybe I am reaching for Olympus because if I have to be a god, why not go the full way?’ 

Hephaestus nodded. ‘You might be right. So, how far do you think we can get today?’

‘I was thinking about my own past. I was cast out as a small child and it didn’t seem like I had anybody I could trust on Olympus.’ 

Leo slowly nodded and beckoned his father to continue. ‘After chaining Hera up and retrieving to Lemnos, I only really cared about my forge, not about anything else. Not even myself.’ Hephaestus thought for a second. ‘Well, I think I cared about Thetis and about my donkey. Yet, Thetis wasn’t there, and my donkey… was a donkey. The person who showed me how to care again was Dionysus. He hung around the blacksmith just because he appreciated me and he was the one who got me so far that I admitted I wanted to go back to Olympus and right what I did wrong. He showed me some people did care about me. About me, and not just about what I did. It made me care for him as well.’ 

It was nighttime, but Hephaestus was wide awake. A few metres away from him, Dionysus was finally asleep. They were close to Olympus now, only about two days of walking away, but they had not moved forward at all in a week. Dionysus had caught a fever, and there was no way he would be able to climb Olympus in his current state. 

Dionysus moved and yelped in his sleep. Hephaestus sighed. He didn’t know if fever dreams were always this bad, or if they were worse because of Dionysus’ relation to madness. With a scream, his friend woke up, just half an hour after falling asleep. Hephaestus quickly moved over. Dionysus stared at him with damp eyes. ‘Dionysus….’

‘It will go away, it always does.’ He shivered and Hephaestus quickly put another blanket over him. ‘Are you sure? I did occasionally meet mortals every now and then, back on Lemnos, you know. A lot of them had relatives or friends who had caught a fever, and they had...’ Hephaestus swallowed. ‘I don’t want you to die, Dionysus. Please, you can’t die, you can’t.’ Dionysus closed his eyes. Yet, he was smiling. 

‘I probably could have gotten that from anybody else as well. But I didn’t. I began to trust Dionysus and he never broke that trust once during our entire trip from Lemnos to Olympus.’ 

Hephaestus walked into the throne room, with Dionysus by his side. The gods turned their heads, every single one of them surprised. Hephaestus didn’t say anything. He walked over to Hera’s throne, spoke a few words and the cables loosened. It took a few seconds before she felt comfortable enough to step down. ‘Thanks...’ 

‘Keep your thanks,’ Hephaestus muttered. The other Olympians began crowding around Dionysus, glad that there was someone they could safely call a hero. The wine god looked over at Hephaestus, who nodded. 

‘After I got back on Olympus, the other gods quickly got used to me. Hermes and some others made the effort to get to know me, and slowly I found my place. Sometimes, I still feel like I don’t belong, or that I am just a nuisance. But then there is always Dionysus, who is there to support me.’ Hephaestus stopped talking. Leo was listening with his mouth open.

‘That was a wild history lesson, dad.’ Hephaestus smiled. 

‘I hope you learned something from it.’  

‘I sure did.’ He jumped up. ‘But now I have to go buy a diary in the store and apologize to a few people. Thanks again, dad. I hope you’ll come visit me some more.’ Leo ran out of bunker 9, leaving his dad behind. Hephaestus hardly noticed his son was gone at first, until he sighed, with a little smile. 

‘You are a god.’ Hephaestus nodded, while he looked into the gorgeous eyes of Esperanza Valdez. The woman stayed calm, as if she knew all along.  Hephaestus laid his hand on her cheek. ‘I can’t stay for much longer.’ He tried to smile. ‘Please stay safe, Esperanza. I want you to live a happy life.’ She laughed. 

‘I hope so, too.’ She gave him a kiss on the cheek, before he left. 

From up on mount Olympus, he could see her. She stood by the door for a long time, with a hand on her belly, before she walked back into the house. 

A/N: I freakin’ love the tale of Dionysus and Hephaestus. If I ever write a retelling of greek mythology it would be about the tale of Dionysus and Hephaestus. They are my boys.  

Okay so, myth-accurately, Dionysus gets Hephaestus drunk. Except I dislike that version so I made my own (sue me). Also Dionysus didn’t catch a fever, that is just for the drama (again, sue me).

I must have written the second part at least three years ago. Of course, I re-wrote it for a bit, but it surprises me how many elements of it survived the test of time. 

[alexius-fr]

Chapter 5 - The fires of betrayal

Click the link for the AO3 version, or enjoy below the cut :)

His skin was on fire.

His blood coursed palpably through him, searing hot when Rowan's wings spread themselves out wide. There wasn't enough room in the lair for the full wingspan of the large imperial, but that didn't seem to bother him. His blind eyes darted wildly, the blood magic churning in his veins. Sanguine couldn't move, the power of Rowan's magic binding him in place. It was a haunting experience, yet primal in it's nature, making every inch of Sanguine's body tingle. The sensations and the smell of blood were overwhelming, to the point that Sanguine nearly passed out, bordering on the brink of consciousness.

Vision going dark, he felt his whole body starting to lean more heavily on his legs, head spinning. He tried to signal to Rowan, but he was too caught up in the ritual and did not hear Sanguine's weak whisper, Sanguine's heart slowing dramatically, eyes fluttering shut and his body slumping to the squishy floor. The last thing he heard was a gasp, then darkness took hold.

When he woke, he was covered in something stringy, soft and warm. He jerked his head up, blowing the substance out of his face. It appeared to be Rowan's mane, the hair covering both of them as Rowan had gone for a nap right next to him. Had the imperial passed out during the ritual as well? No, he was positioned too deliberately for that. Sanguine felt strained, his body hurt, a tad cold as well. It was that cold part that made him stay where he was. Rowan was a living furnace, warming him up with his body, that was coiled carefully around him. There was no harm in staying put a few more minutes, recover from the whole ordeal.

Sanguine wasn't exactly sure what had happened, what Rowan had seen or done during the ritual, but he didn't feel different, apart from his weariness. Part of him wondered what had made him trust the ancient Imperial with this in the first place. Why had Rowan wanted to perform this ritual? What purpose did it serve? He supposed he would find out in due time, now that he hadn't actually been killed by it. He hadn't even really considered that he could die during this. And he was a bit shocked to find out he didn't actually care. He could've died, sure. But then what? His clan was rebelling against him, so what harm was there to just disappearing? Then they would finally find out how hard it was to lead a clan and lead it well. They thought Silas could do better? Let them find out the hard way how wrong they were.

But he was alive, and he was pulled from his thoughts of self loathing by Rowan's stirring body, a dismayed moan rumbling through him. Sanguine took a look at the imperial's scarred face, wondering what had inflicted such terrible damage to his eyes in the first place.

“Someone pressed my face into the Wyrmwound.” Rowan mumbled. Had he read Sanguine's mind? “Yes.” “Stop.” Sanguine said, frowning disturbedly.

“I can't.” Rowan yawned, lifting his head. “We're connected now. That's what the ritual did.” “What? Why?” Sanguine asked, worming himself out from under Rowan's coil. “I don't know.” Rowan said with a shrug.

“What do you mean you don't know?!” Sanguine snapped. “I didn't ask for this!” “Nor did you try to stop me. Or ask me what I was doing beforehand.” Rowan frowned with a hint of playful sass. He had him there, though.

“Tch.” Sanguine tisked and turned his head away from Rowan's peering white eyes. He had no answer for him.

“Were you hoping for an easy end by trusting a seedy seer to perform an obscure and possibly lethal ritual on you? Sorry for dissapointing.” Rowan said, his expression intrigued. “But it'd have been a waste of such a handsome dragon.”

“Who dunked your face into the Wyrmwound?” Sanguine asked, ignoring the attempt at a compliment. Rowan rose to his feet, yawning again. He shook his body, his dirty mane dropping several bits of old dirt and whatever else was stuck in there. Sanguine felt a bit antsy, knowing that mane had just been draped over his body. He'd have to bathe when he got back.

“I don't remember.” Rowan replied truthfully. “They're probably dead. At least I hope they are.”

“Or what, you'll kill them?” Sanguine frowned. “And how did you survive being dipped in acid?” “I survived through Her will only. I saw Her great eye blinking back at me under the surface of that horrible pool. It was the last thing I ever saw with my own eyes.” Rowan said, Sanguine intrigued.

“She's been speaking to me ever since.” Rowan leaned in closer. “She tries to speak to you as well, but you deny Her. Deny your legacy. It will catch up with you, wether you like it or not. You can't run forever.”

“But what if I no longer see the point in running?” Sanguine spoke, done caring about how weak he'd probably look if he admitted to his depression. “Or the point of even continuing?”

“So you're just giving up? Why? Sure your brother is rebellious, and your clan doubts you. Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise. Rid yourself of the doubters, continue with only those who are true to the cause.” Rowan said, as if it was that simple. But Sanguine found himself liking the idea, none the less. There wasn't a time he remembered that he was ever without Silas. And going back to face him almost felt stifling, like it was choking him. Would it not be nice to be free of him?  

Rowan looked amused. “You are considering it.” Sanguine did not respond, still in his head about it. Rowan cocked his head and observed, wings out slightly so his rune eyes could see. Sanguine looked back at them and found that he was no longer weirded out by their stare, instead finding something strangely comforting about Rowan's presence.

He'd gotten used to the carved runes, the blind stare, the slightly off focus angle of Rowan's head. And beneath that messy mane, and the scars, was a  smart, powerful dragon. Wether it had been the ritual or the fact that he'd not experienced physical contact for so long, he felt something drawing him to the imperial.

“Would you like to stay? Just a while longer.” Rowan asked, a warm tone to his voice. “We could talk a bit more. I'd like to know you better.” “Don't you already know everything?” Sanguine frowned. “Your blood, sure. But I'd like to listen to your tale from your mouth. You have a nice voice.” Rowan was hardly subtle, the years of loneliness had likely left him a bit socially awkward, but Sanguine did not mind. Instead, he smiled. “Thank you. I think I would like to stay a little bit longer.”

“I'll get us something to eat. I'm famished after that bloody ritual.” Rowan grinned at his own pun and Sanguine rolled his eyes as he made himself comfortable, but couldn't stop a little smile.

-

When he left Rowan's lair the following day he felt strangely rejuvenated, energetic. Rowan followed him outside, his wings spread as widely as possible to take in the environment. “It's been ages since I went outside.” Rowan stretched. “It seems the land has moved on, Her influence spreads slowly but surely.”

“It does feel good to be back.” Sanguine admitted.

“Does that mean you'll come back one day?” Rowan asked, a suggestive nature to his question.

“Maybe. If you promise to wash your mane.” Sanguine teased with a wide grin, Rowan pushing against him. “Fine. You may have a point there.” he admitted, blowing strands of hair out of his face self-consciously. Sanguine chuckled, pushing back with affection.

“I will come back.” he promised. “Soon.”

“Good. I'll miss you.” Rowan said, surprisingly honest. “I always thought I would hate having company in my lair, but..  well, I don't hate yours.”

“Just a mild dislike, then?” Sanguine suggested, Rowan chuckling.

“No. I liked it. Be careful out there, and come back in one piece.” he said, with a hint of worry.

“I've faced hotter fires than Silas, don't worry.” Sanguine comforted him. “I should leave if I'm to make it back in time before sunset though.” “Of course.” Rowan said, a little dissapointed. The two shared an affectionate headbutt before Sanguine stretched his wings and prepared for take off. Rowan watched him, echoing a soft roar of goodbye. He watched until Sanguine had become a dot on the horizon, sighing as he walked back into his lair.

It was awfully empty here now, without Sanguine's presence to fill it. But it wouldn't stay empty for long, Rowan smiling as he curled up, magic filling his mind and body with a gentle glow.

-

The lair was in uproar when Sanguine returned, Silas out front speaking to his clanmates. Khadiyah was next to him, the golden rings that decorated her horns gleaming in the sunlight. Sanguine was intrigued, landing a little bit further away to be able to listen in.

“We were not meant for this. We don't belong here. And to stay here because Sanguine's got cold feet about returning home? I say we don't have to take his leadership at face value anymore. He's been leading us for a long time, not always to the best of results. You know that as well as I do.” Silas preached. “We shouldn't be denied our home because of an old man's fears.”

“Aren't you just as old?” Lethe asked, with a frown.

“We are two months apart!” Silas snapped. “It makes a world of difference. I am clearly more fit to lead. He's old, traumatized, scared. He's outlived his usefulness. We can be better without his melancholy dragging us down.” he spoke passionately, obviously committed. “We do this the way we know how. Like Plague dragons. Because that's what we are. Weakness can not be tolerated. Even if it comes from our leader. Especially if it comes from our leader.”

The other dragons seemed unsure, though some were openly nodding. The fire in the pit crackled hard and cast high shadows upon the rock behind them, coating everything in a hard orange glow.

“Why are you so reluctant to stand up to him? Do you think he will harm you if you try? We are all faster, stronger, better fighters than him.” Khadiyah said, spirited. “He won't stand a chance if we all leap upon him. If we use the strenght of the pack.” She was supported by many, nods and murmurs travelling through the group. “His time is done. Join us, and together we will make a strong clan. A true Plague clan, under new leadership. A fresh start, with a Queen and King who honour our traditions!” she spread her wings and roared, others mimicking her.

Ever a flair for the dramatic, Sanguine decided now was a great time to emerge from hiding.

“Oh, am I interrupting?” he asked, glibly. Khadiyah pulled up her lip as a warning, but Sanguine was focused on Silas.

“Sanguine.” Silas said, surprised. “You're back. I thought you'd left.” “But I've returned, as I always do, to my clan. What is this?” Sanguine looked around. “Gathered to hear the heresy my little brother is spouting? Are you all really so eager to leave?”

“Honestly?” Almediha stepped forward, her gentle voice determined. “Yes. We were promised a new home. A new clan, a stronger clan. The wait has made us all anxious. Why do you even want to stay here?” “There is something here I must set right before I can move on.” Sanguine said. Nobody knew he was talking about Zephyr, and his mother Ziray, of course, but he didn't want to drag them into this now. So he kept it vague. “But we don't want to wait for that.” Azrael said, his gleaming green skin flickering in the light of the fire. Traitors blood.

“They want to go home, Sange.” Silas said. “Just like me.”

For a long, tense moment, the two brothers stared at eachother. Sanguine had taken comfort in Silas' presence from the moment they met, knowing he had someone he could always trust at his back. After all, who better than his own brother to support him? He always enjoyed their snarky banter, even if it grated on him sometimes. Had they truly changed so much that this was the only direction they could go from here? Silas seemed convinced it was, eyes gleaming with purpose, his mate directly behind him, and behind her, their child. He supposed Silas had different priorities now. He couldn't even really hate him for it. But it stung none the less. For five years, they had faced their problems together. But it seemed that time was at an end.

“Go, then.” Sanguine said, the words grave out of his mouth. “I don't want to fight you over this.” “Because you know you would lose.” Khadiyah hissed.

“No. Because I don't want to hurt the one dragon that has been at my side through all of it, despite his reluctance to do so. Despite his rebellion. You are still my brother, and I will not turn to fratricide. If you must leave, if that is what you really want.. then go.”

“Wait, you're not going to fight me on it?” Silas asked, taken aback. “You're right. I'm old. Tired. If you think you can do better, please do.” Sanguine said, shaking his head. “But I'd like to walk away with my life. Survive, adapt, overcome. I need this as much as you do. Perhaps to grow we need to go our own separate ways.”

“..Yeah. Perhaps that's true.” Silas agreed. “Well.. I guess, goodbye then?” he still seemed baffled, unsure how to hold himself.

“Goodbye, Silas. Lead them well.” Sanguine nodded solemnly, turning around. He retreated into the lair under the baffled stares of his clanmates, the silence respectful and stunned. This was not how anyone had expected this to go down. They were expecting a fight, or even just an argument. But Sanguine was done giving others what they wanted. He felt relief at the realisation that after tonight, nobody would be depending on him anymore. He could do what he wanted, truly, for the first time in many years. It gave him a sense of freedom, listening to his former clanmates leaving,  The sound of their wings slowly disappearing into the night.

[ithehellisbucky]

Yellow and Fuckboy- Random People Part 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Requested: None

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cussing, brief mentions of sexual harassment, brief talks about eviction, general bitchiness

Author’s Note: Ahhhhh, I finally posted something. I know I’m a day late, but I tried my best. I only had enough time to edit the first half, so sorry if there are any errors. This will be a series, with about 5, 6, or 7 parts, it depends on the turn this takes. Requests and taglists are open. Love you, and stay safe out there!

This is the end. Standing on a crosswalk in the middle of a bustling street with people screaming all around you. This is the end. But then again, you never know what the ending is until it's done. But it isn't done yet.

6 years. 6 years at that job. A good job. A job with a guarantee of climbing the corporate ladder. A job that you had just been fired from.

Why the fuck were you fired? Stupid bullshitters caught one whiff of a sexual harassment scandal and booted you out without a second thought. And blamed it on your "work ethic". Stupid Jonah should have been fired instead, he was the one who would wolf whistle and "flirt" (the shitty thing that he tried to claim he was doing instead of sexual harassment) whenever you walking by his desk. Not you.

Then after all of that shit, your landlord evicted you. Said that "you wouldn't be able to pay the rent" because you were fired. You would've been able to throw something together if he had trusted you. If someone had trusted you.

But no one had. You're just standing in the middle of the street. Without anyone. Trying to convince yourself that this wasn't the end of the world.

~

This is the beginning. The beginning of something. The beginning of a whole new future. In the middle of the bustling street, there was only one spotlight. And that spotlight is on James Barnes. 

Today was the day. The day to end all other. Bucky's pulse was the only sound he could make out, even though there was noise all around him. 

"What am I gonna do without you Buck." He turned around to look at a face he had seen almost every day of his life, a face he almost forgot was standing right next to him.

"I don't know Steve, but you’re gonna figure it out." The better question in Bucky's mind was what the hell he was going to do without Steve. Every day of his life he had seen Steve. What the hell was he going to do without the scrawny kid who wasn't afraid of a fight but definitely should be? Possibly survive, probably die.

On the inside, Bucky had no idea what the hell he was going to do. All he knew, is that this was the beginning of something. He didn't know what. All he knew was that it was the beginning

~

An apartment. That's all you needed. An apartment. One bedroom, one bathroom. Maybe even a kitchen, or a living room if you were lucky. Hell, at this point you'd settle for no windows.

Today is hell. It honestly couldn't get any worse.

Something hits your back. It was light, and for a moment you thought it could be a pebble or something. You reach behind you and touch the top of your back, right where the fabric of your shirt meets the strap of your backpack.

Nothing was there. You shrug your shoulders and continue to walk along. The same sensation hits your nose. Nothing, again. All there is is a small wet splotch. Oh. Oh no. This is bad. This is worse than bad. This is devastatingly horrible. 

Looking up towards the sky in horror, you wince as another raindrop hits your cheek. The movies were right. You should never say "it can't get any worse." Because then it’ll immediately start raining. 

At least it's only a small drizzle. Nothing too bad could come from it.

...Fuck.

Almost the exact second that thought ran through your mind that a complete and total downpour washed over you. Thunder was crashing all around you, and everyone started running. You pull up your backpack and put it over your head. Like that would do anything to stop the flood that was coming down to you.

If this was a movie you would be running through the rain to your estranged lover, but alas, this isn't a movie. Instead, you're running to a diner that is barely in your line of vision. 

As you run towards the diner the wheel of your suitcase gets caught on the curb, causing you to fall over. While pushing yourself off the ground, you look down and see that your knees have been bloodied by the fall. 

Sighing, you straighten your suitcase and continue to walk towards the restaurant at a much slower pace; partially because of your skimmed knees, and partially because your mood is just as hurt.

Once you reach the diner you stand in the foyer, thinking about all the horrific turns this day has taken. Wiping your feet on the mat and putting your backpack back on your back you sigh loudly into the universe. Not to a person, place, or thing, to the universe.

You open the door and take a whiff of fresh coffee and warm waffles. You roll your suitcase over the bump in the doorway and hear a clanging noise. 

The diner was more crowded than most of the other diners you had been to in Brooklyn, and you wonder what makes it so special. The funny thing was that most people weren't in there to shield themselves from the rain, the majority of people looked like this was just another day, not the day the world was ending.

Dragging your suitcase behind you, you walk towards one of the only empty seats at the countertop. There is one empty seat on your left, and the one on your right is taken by a man in a blue business suit.

You take a seat on the stool and plop your suitcase down on the seat beside you. If someone wants to sit there enough they'll ask. You take a look at the menu in front of you. Within two seconds you had instantly picked out the meal that you wanted: chocolate chip pancakes and a coffee. 

Waiting for the waiter to come over to take your order wasn't easy. You had just been fired, evicted, and then caught in a goddamn thunderstorm; you aren't in the mood to be patient.

For a few minutes, the seat next to you was empty. Then, someone walked up being you, and said the exact words: "Is this seat taken."

~

A rainstorm. Just his luck. Possible the only thing that could happen to take Bucky down a notch had happened, a rainstorm. It may not be the worst thing on the planet, but it's certainly up there.

Almost the exact second he had said goodbye to Steve for the last time in a long time, the sky opened up its floodgates and poured them down onto him. It was almost as if the weather was reciprocating the emotions he was feeling.

While running to the nearest building he could find, the only thought running through Bucky's head was how he would find the airport. He barely left Brooklyn, and when he did do it, it was by subway. 

The bell chimed as he entered the building, which he could now see was a diner from the decor. Panting, he looked around the room for a seat. There didn't seem to be any until he spotted one with a suitcase on it.

The woman that the suitcase presumably belonged to was wearing a purple sweater and blue jeans that stopped midway up her calves. She was (for some twisted reason that was beyond him) wearing cheap yellow flip-flops that looked like they were from dollar tree. Her backpack was black, and the straps were sagging so much that the bottom of the bag reached several inches below the bottom of the seat she was sitting on.

Grumbling, Bucky walked over to the countertop, thinking of how much he didn't want to deal with some crazy lady wearing yellow flip-flops in the middle of a thunderstorm.

"Is this seat taken?" Bucky asks the yellow-flip-flop-wearing-lady with grain in his voice.

~

You turn around, trying to make the exhaustion on your face as clear as humanly possible. Turning to face the man who had so *rudely* interrupted your peaceful, if not depressing, brooding, you plaster a scowl over your face.

However, when you turn to see him, you see something that you were without a doubt not expecting. A handsome young man (dear god you sound like a grandmother).

He's wearing a brown coat, and the shirt beneath it is a navy blue. He's wearing a pair of dirty blue jeans, and it looks like the second or third time they’ve been worn without being washed. The black baseball hat he's wearing somehow matches perfectly with the rest of the ensemble. His dark brown hair is tousled in a way that's halfway between "fuckboy" and "my hair is messy because I was busy making you breakfast at 8 AM and I didn't have time to brush it."

But even when you take all of this into account (his flawless body, hair, face, eyes, and general vibe) you couldn’t bring yourself to be nice to him on such a shitty day. "What the fuck is your problem."

Instead of acting offended, or gasping in horror, he simply rolls his eyes. Yep, definitely a New York native.

"My fucking problem is that your backpack is in the seat I need to sit in." He almost looks more annoyed that you... Almost.

You roughly pull your suitcase off of the stool and onto the floor, not breaking eye contact with the fuckboy (that is the option that you have decided to go with since he's pissed you off this much).

He kicks your suitcase out of the way, and for a second he looks at you like he's expecting a big ass reaction, instead, all you do is scoff and stare straight in front of you.

The waiter walks up to you, and within a heartbeat, you can tell that she's new to Brooklyn. She has straight and perfectly combed black hair that doesn't have a single hair loose. She has perfectly straight posture, and the look in her eyes of someone who hasn't seen someone pee on a subway. Not to mention that that makeup matches with her skin tone perfectly, not the half-toned shit that's 2 shades off your skin tone that you wear.

"Can I take your order?" Her voice is far too cheery for a diner in Brooklyn, even the waiters who fake it for the tips couldn't muster up that much positivity.

Feigning a smile you simply say, "chocolate chip pancakes, and coffee as black as my heart." The waitress looked taken aback, and the sickly sweet smile that you choose to plaster on your face remained the same. "Thanks," you look to see her nametag "Manta."

Fuckboy snorts, and you can tell that he is far more amused by the situation than you are. "And all have the eggs and sausage with the-" snort "coffee as black as her heart."

'Manta' has an awkward look on her face, and you can tell that she is trying to push the negative emotions down. Her face soon perks up, and as she takes your menus she responds with: "I'll have that right out for you." 

Your smile remains sickly sweet as she walks away, but it immediately drops the second she leaves your eyesight.

"Why the fuck are you wearing yellow flip-flops?" Fuckboy says with a sneer.

"Why the fuck aren't you wearing yellow flip-flops." You respond, raising both your eyebrows and speaking in a mocking tone.

~

This lady is getting on Bucky's fucking nerves. She acted like she ran the fucking place, when in fact the only thing she had control over her fucking flip-flops. He was trying not to be a sexist bitch, but Bucky was wondering how anyone could be so shit-headed.

In Bucky's eyes, today was supposed to be the perfect day. Starting over. Joining the military. Yet in "Yellow" (the name Bucky choose to call her in his head because of her obnoxious yellow flip-flops) seemed to be put on this earth to make Bucky feel any emotion but happiness. Fine, two could play at that game.

"You know, I was having a decent fucking day, so I would appreciate if you try not to ruin what's left of it." He said while staring at the clock and wondering how quickly he could get out of the establishment.

"We don't always get what we want." She shook her head in a way that made it seem like she was mocking him, which she didn't seem to be doing. Even if she was, she was doing it horribly.

"Can't I get what I want this fucking time." Bucky reaches into his pocket and rolls around a cigarette that he hasn't had the chance to smoke yet, and contemplates what the consequences of him pulling it out would be.

"No, apparently you can't," Yellow responds. Both of them were staring ahead into nothing. 

The waitress, Manta, comes back with Yellow's pancakes. Yellow's fake sugary sweet demeanor returns and Bucky can tell under the artificial smile she seems slightly happy to receive the food.

Manta puts a coffee in front of each of them, and when she speaks she does it with her trademark smile, "Your sausage and eggs will be right out sir."

Putting on a fake smile (unlike Yellow he actually meant to be nice, and not just to be evil) he said: "thank you so much."

After receiving his coffee he turned to Yellow and said: "What the fuck made you act this way? Why in God's name would you be so horrible to someone who had done absolutely nothing."

Her head snaps back over to Bucky, and she makes piercing eye contact. "You know what made me act this way. You know fucking why?" Yellow seemed to actually state this as a question, but before Bucky could respond she continued.

"I was fucking fired because some shithead said he wanted to get in my jeans. Then I was evicted from my apartment by my asshole landlord. I have nothing and no one in my life that needs me, so why the fuck should I act happy." She pauses to catch her breath, then continues on her tirade. 

"I've been nice to people who haven't deserved my entire fucking life, and I'm so fucking sick of it. You have a look on your face that says that the hardest decision you've ever had to make was to fuck someone from the front or the back. Get the fuck over yourself, some people have shit to deal with."

~

Why the fuck had you just explained your life story to a stranger. No idea. It just felt kind of right. In a weird and twisted way, you felted more comforted with this stranger than around assholes you had known your whole life.

"I'm sorry you went through that, but that doesn't mean you get to treat people like shit," Fuckboy said in a tone softer than any that someone had spoken to you in years.

Before you know what's happening you feel tears welling up in your eyes. "You're probably right. Shit, no. You're definitely right. I swear to god that I've never acted this way before. It's just, today is different." You look over to Fuckboy and shrug your head. "I've always had shit days, it's just that today was takes the cake."

Fuckboy looks down at his shoes and then back up at you. "Listen, I'm not sorry for what I said, I just want you to know that I believe you. From the story, you told me I'm pretty sure you're not used to people saying that to you.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot." He says in a tone that you're certain you haven't been spoken to before.

"I do too." You exclaim as you twist your lips around, keeping at least one part of your body busy as your mind roams Fuckboy's mannerisms.

"Here's your egg and sausage, sir." Manta puts a plate down in front of Fuckboy, much to his delight.

Fuckboy immediately stuffs his face with the sausage, and then looks over and glares at you. Understanding what his eyes were saying, you turn to face Manta.

"I'm sorry Manta. I didn't mean to be a bitch. I've had a long day, and, I don't know. It's not really an excuse, I'm just sorry." You look at her in hope, with a neutral expression on your face.

For a second you think she's going to react badly, and then she perks up again, excited by your apology. "Don't worry about it! We all have our bad days, and I just happened to catch you on yours." 

You let out a sigh of relief and smile a genuine smile at her acceptance. "Um, here's my card; I don't work at the place listed there anymore, but the personal number still works. If you ever need a favor, just call me. I'm almost always by my phone, and what I mean by that is that I'm almost always scrolling through supermodels Insta feeds."

Upon excepting the card Manta perked up even more, "Thank you so much."

~

"So, how am I doing?" Yellow asks Bucky.

"...Actually pretty good. I'm super impressed that you can just turn it off and on like that, pretty twisted superpower." He exclaims with a chuckle.

"Thank you, for your overwhelming support," Yellow responds. After hearing her say this Bucky lets out a chuckle, and in his heart of hearts he truly means it. 

"So, what's your life story. I already told you mine." Yellow Pauses to think for a second. "I swear if it's more depressing than mine, I'm going to be super pissed."

Bucky ponders the question for a moment, and then answers with: "Nothing too horrible I have a sister named Rebecca, my mom is my favorite person. I have a scrawny best friend named Steve." Bucky continues to think for a few more seconds and then, like a lightbulb, Bucky remembers something that is very important to his story. "And I am joining the military, today."

Yellow's jaw drops to the fucking floor, much to Bucky's amusement. "I'm so fucking sorry. If I had known I probably would of, well, done the same thing." She pauses and looks the other way in shame. "I'm sorry."

"It's all good, I wasn't really attached to my pride anyway." Yellow feigned shock and Bucky responded by chuckling. He was really liking her more and more as the moments passed.

"Oh, and by the way, my name is-" She started to say, but then Bucky quickly cut her off. 

"I don't want to know your name. I'll probably never see you after today, and I don't want another thing to miss." Bucky knew that he wanted to know her name, but he also knew that he'd regret it if he found out.

Yellow raised her eyebrows in confusion (Bucky was beginning to think that this was a mannerism of hers) but she soon realized what he was getting at and then lowered them. "Okay, so then what do you propose you call me then?"

Bucky wanted to act like he was pondering this question, even when in reality he had made up the nickname in his head. "Yellow, because of your flip-flops."

"Again with the flip-flops! What is with your obsession?!" She counters with a laugh.

"So my name is-" Bucky says with a smile, counteracting her statement.

"Na-ah-ah," Yellow responds, waving her finger in front of Bucky's face as if to scold him, much to his amusement. "If I get a codename, so do you."

"What's it gonna be?" Bucky asks entertained by this entire conversation, and curious to see what nickname she was going to give him.

"Fuckboy." She says, making a definite stance.

"Thank you, for that overwhelming compliment," Bucky responds, slightly taken aback by her brutal remark.

"It's not a bad thing. It's because of your hair." She says, her grin growing wider by the minute.

"My hair?" Bucky responds, not sure of what to do with that piece of information.

"Yes your hair, gives off major Jack Dawson vibes." She counters with a chuckle.

"So Jack is suddenly is suddenly a fuckboy?" Bucky exclaims as he takes another bite of his eggs.

"Need I remind you that he painted women nude in fucking France." She says right before swallowing a bite of her pancakes.

"I get your point, Fuckboy it is," Bucky says with a smile that lights up his entire face, causing a chain reaction on Yellow.

~

Fuckboy was charming. Then again, all fuckboys are charming. But he seemed different, he seemed... Softer. 

"Why are you joining the military, if you don't mind me asking." You exclaim as you twirl your finger around on the rim of your coffee. 

"I dunno; my entire life I just wanted to help people, and I found a way to do that using something I'm good at. Fighting." He exclaims through a full mouth of eggs.

"It sounds like you do know." You say a second before you put another bite of pancake into your mouth.

"Know what?" Fuckboy asks you through a mouth full of eggs.

"Why you're joining the military." You say, your mouth equally as stuffed.

"That's what I tell people." He says, looking over to you with endearing eyes. "I really don't know why. If I think too hard about it I come to the conclusion that it's because I know my life will have come to nothing if I don't do something noteworthy."

His brow creases, and you ponder for a second what your response will be. "How do you know that you'll do something noteworthy in the army? How do you know that your life won't end up as anything no matter how hard you try to make it do the opposite." 

Fuckboy turns to look at you, amusement resting on his features. "Thank you for the vote of encouragement."

"I'm only saying this because I don't think you could ever be nothing. I immediately classified you as a Leonardo DiCaprio type, that's not nothing. You're going to do great thing's whether it's in the military or not."

Fuckboy looks up from his eggs in earnest. "Thank you for saying that, it makes me feel a lot better."

"The trick is to be as brutally honest as possible. You're bound to say at least one thing right if 89% of everything you say is completely and totally devastating bullshit."

You finish off the last bite of your pancake and pick up your suitcase from the floor. "Well, I expect payment from my words of wisdom to be the eight dollars for my pancakes, peace out!"

This conversation had become too emotional, you knew you would have gotten attached if you continued the conversation.

"Wait no!" Fuckboy catches your arm, and your secretly happy that he wanted you to stay with him.

"I don't have to check in until six, so would you like to stay with me until then? I was going to go around some landmarks, and maybe see a broadway show, but I would appreciate it if you stayed with me, for just these few hours."

His forehead was doing that cute crease thing, and you faked internal conflict before saying what was always on your mind through it all: "yes."

His face practically explodes with excitement, and yours does too. You and Fuckboy didn't have forever, but at least you had today. And you were going to live this day as if it were your last.

Part 2

Requests are open!

~Taglists are open~

Permanent Tags: @natasha-danvers​

Marvel:

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[coffeeandspn]

I’m really, really sorry...

GIF is not mine.

Summary: Castiel hates to celebrate his birthday, and Dean knows that, but he thinks that Cas needs to let go his past, so he surprises him anyways. Things don’t go as planned, and they have a big fight.

Pairing: Eileen x Sam Winchester, maybe Human!Castiel x Dean Winchester 

A/N: I’ll write some ACTUAL Destiel scenes only if u guys like this first part and want me to write a second chapter, because there are no mentions of Dean and Castiel having another relationship than just best friends, nor there are mentions on they having feelings for each other, simply because it didn’t fit with the situation..

Rating: Teen and Up.

Warnings: angst, unhappy ending, Dean is an asshole, Castiel is depressed, physical abuse, blood, fights, Castiel’s father is an abusive and drunken asshole, homophobia, language

Words: 1972

It was done. There was no way of coming back in time to change it. Dean was sitting on the kitchen floor, alone. All the lights were out except for a faint one, everybody was sleeping, and there he was… By himself. His sobs were the only thing that filled the silence of the night, and he swore, he could hear Castiel sobbing as well. That made him feel even more miserable.  He blamed himself over and over again for his stupid mouth. Couldn’t he just, shut up for one time? No, he had to ruin everything. All the damn time. Sam gave him a disappointed look before going to bed, and Eileen gave him a pity one. Castiel had left like 30 minutes before that, and the look on his face… Dean didn´t even want to remember the way Cas looked at him before storming out of the kitchen, with tears on his face. He went directly to his room, slamming the door. Everyone was silent for a minute or two. Dean didn´t know what to say. 

He felt and still feels like an idiot. How could he be so heartless? Why on Earth did Dean think that saying that Castiel was acting just like his father was a good idea? On his goddamn birthday!? Dean was definitely an asshole.

Castiel was doing the best he could, but by the time Dean realized that, it was already too late.

He knew Cas felt tired and sad, that the memories will haunt him forever, he knew basically everything about him, they´ve been friends for over 10 years, but Dean thought that maybe, it was time to let that horrible memory go. He thought that it was time for Cas to actually start living the life he always deserved; a great one.

But Dean doesn’t know shit about how Cas really feels. Because his mother had a great life, and his father wasn´t an abusive asshole, unlike Castiel´s parents. Dean´s family was the typical perfect one, the kind of family everyone wanted.

On his 13th birthday, Castiel´s dad, Chuck, beat his wife to exhaustion because he discovered that his younger son Castiel, was gay, and no one said a word to him. Plus, he was a drunken, a horrible husband and an even more horrible father. He blamed Castiel´s mother because he claimed that ‘’That little faggot bastard came out of YOUR vagina and you raised him to be like that, not me, you fucking whore! Look what you did with my son! He can´t even be my son anymore, not if he likes to suck fucking dicks!’’ His brothers, Gabriel and Michael, that were 16 and 18 by that time, tried to stop him, but Chuck was way stronger than them. Castiel was terrified, he couldn´t even move. When he was done, and had left his mother unconscious on the bloody floor, he tried to catch Castiel, but he luckily reacted quickly and started running as fast as he could. He escaped his house and started screaming for help, which worked, because a few neighbors came out of their houses, and called the police when they realized what was happening. After all, that wasn´t the first fight of the family and Castiel was sure the cops had their address memorized at that point.

The police arrived minutes after, one of the neighbors let Castiel in to their house while Chuck was busy trying to get his drunk ass up from the floor because he fell while he was running behind his son, trying to catch him.

That´s when Castiel met the Winchesters, and that´s when Dean and Castiel´s great friendship started.

The ambulance arrived as well and they took his mother to the hospital as fast as they could. She fell on a coma after that. His father went to prison and killed himself after spending barely six months in there.

Castiel, Michael and Gabriel were sent to an orphanage after that, and visited their mother (and the Winchester family) every day. As they grew older, and their responsibilities bigger, they stopped seeing their mother that often. She never gave any signal of improvement, or waking up, and their hopes started fading. After ten years of being in coma, not even breathing for herself anymore, they painfully decided it was time to let her go.

Today was Castiel´s 25th birthday, the 12th anniversary of his family officially breaking apart, and in two months, the 2nd anniversary of the official death of his mother.

That´s why Castiel hated to celebrate his birthday so much, but Dean insisted on making a surprise dinner for his best friend, alongside with some decorations around the house.

Castiel was drunk when he came home. His clothes and hair were messy, and he smelled like alcohol and cigarettes.

When he saw the decorations, he started swearing and yelling that he didn´t want any of that shit. Sam and Eileen managed to calm him down, and Sam helped him to take a shower, because he could barely walk.

When he sat down at the table to eat, he was incredibly quiet.

Dean, as always, was trying to make things better, so he started talking about his day, and then asked Castiel about his.

‘’How do you think my day went, Dean?’’

‘’I mean… I don´t know, that´s exactly why I´m asking.’’

‘’Well, it was trash. I saw the bloody body of my mother in every corner of my mind the entire fucking day, but thank you for asking though, dumbass.’’

Dean frowned at the insult.

‘’Wow, ok, I´m sorry if your life isn´t perfect, but that´s not my fault and you know it, buddy, so don´t come at me like that, I was just trying to be nice and break the tension in here.’’

Castiel let go the cutlery abruptly and look at him furiously.

‘’If you were trying so hard to be nice, you would´ve started by not doing any of this shit in the first place, because this is no special, nor happy day to me, and you fucking know that!’’

‘’Man, it´s been twelve years! You´ve got to stop tormenting yourself with what happened that day all the time! Do you really want to live your whole life like this? Depressed?’’

‘’Dean…’’ Sam tried to interrupt, but clearly failed when Castiel interrupted him instead.

‘’Are you fucking kidding me, Dean? Do you think I like living like this every damn day? I try so hard to get over it, you have no idea, but it´s impossible when the image of my fucking father physically abusing me, my brothers and my mother, comes to my mind and even haunts me in my fucking dreams all the time!’’

‘’Cas, I know what you´ve been through, but…’’ Dean tried talking softer this time, but that only made Castiel angrier.

‘’NO YOU FUCKING DON´T!’’ He screamed, punching the table and breaking his plate and his glass.

Everyone in the table jumped in surprise and concern. Again, Sam tried to calm things down, but he couldn´t.

‘’Your family was always perfect, your father wasn´t an asshole and your mother lived ‘til you were 20, she was with you through childhood, took care of you, you were able to go to the games with your dad and enjoy a family picnic, so don´t you dare say that you know what I´ve been through, because you absolutely don´t! I´ve been through hell and back and tried to recover millions of times from this, but I just can´t, and you don´t know what real pain is like.’’

Dean got angry as well. Castiel was treating him like he was some sort of perfect commercial guy, and he wasn´t.

‘’You think my life was always perfect? You don´t think my parents had some fights from time to time? You think I don´t know what it feels like losing someone you love, and that should be with you until you´re at least 40 years old? I´ve lost my mom at a pretty young age compared to other people, Castiel!’’

‘’I´ve lost her when I was 13 years old, Dean! And the stupid fights your parents had from ‘time to time’ are NOTHING compared to what I had to witness! Stop trying to minimize my problems with yours, you have no right!’’ At this point, both Dean and Castiel were yelling. Castiel took the already broken glass while he was speaking and threw it, making it break in thousands of little pieces all over the kitchen floor.

‘’You´re acting like an insane, just like your father!’’ Dean yelled. The room went silent.

Castiel´s expression changed from angry to hurt in a matter of seconds.

Sam was hugging Eileen tight, trying to protect her in case things got even more out of control.

Castiel´s blue eyes seemed to be even bluer when the tears started accumulating.

His fist loosened, dropping more small pieces of broken glass to the floor, along with a few drops of blood.

A tear came out of his left eye and rolled down his cheeks. He turned away and disappeared.

Sam and Eileen started cleaning up the mess without saying anything, while Dean was still there, trying to process what just happened.

After it was all clean again, the decorations in the garbage can, and the food in the fridge, Sam said ‘’Dude, you´re an actual asshole, you know that, right? I told you this whole thing was a bad idea. You should’ve known, Dean, you guys are best friends since you´re thirteen…  I really hope you go and apologize to him soon. Good night.’’

Sam gave him a disappointed look, and Eileen a pity one. They turned off the lights in their way to their bedroom, leaving just one on.

Dean dropped to the floor devastated, already crying. He couldn´t believe what just happened. After ten minutes of panicking, having no idea how to apologize for the monstrous thing he said, crying and sobbing, he decided to look out for Castiel. He needed to fix this right now. He had no idea if Cas was ever going to forgive him. He hoped he will at some point…

He knocked on Cas’s door, obviously not receiving an answer. After two minutes, he knocked again. Nothing. He sighed, and started talking.

‘’Look, Cas… There’s absolutely nothing I can do right now for you to forgive me, but… I just want you to hear me, please?’’ Dean waited for a response, or for Cas to open the door, but none of those things happened. ‘’Alright, I´ll just start talking from here… I hope you can hear me… I- I wasn’t thinking, man. I´m really, really sorry for what I´ve said, I´m an asshole… I honestly have no excuses, and even if I had, it´s not going to work anyways. I just want you to know that I´m so sorry, I mean it… I hope you can forgive me someday, I… I really don´t want to lose you. Not after all we´ve been through…’’ Dean sobbed, and waited for… Well, anything. A sob, a move, a word. But he couldn´t hear anything at all.

‘’Cas? Man, are you okay?’’

After waiting outside his door for five minutes, he decided to come in.

‘’Hey, dude, I´m coming in, okay? I´m… You´re worrying me…’’

Dean got into the room, only to find Castiel’s window wide open, and the curtain moving softly because of the breeze of the night.

‘’Cas!? Where are you?’’ He started looking everywhere, screaming his name desperately, but couldn´t find him.

Sam and Eileen got up, and asked Dean what was going on.

Dean, with tears in his eyes, and a heavy breath, turned around and looked at the couple.

‘’He´s- He´s gone. I found his window wide open, and I don´t know where he is.’’

[snake-noodles]

Hidden Away

Chapter 1

TW: Minor character death, Gun Violence, Blood, Body Horror,  implied mutation, implied body horror. Please tell me if I missed anything!

Words: 3,000

Read on AO3

----

> Please insert Passcode

> ********

> Processing…

> ...

> Welcome Back to Lobotomy Corp, LOGAN

> You have 2 new messages. Would you like to read them?

>YES

>Understood. Loading…

> "4:42 AM, message from A.

Greetings, Logan. As you are well aware, we have finally captured our newest abnormality. As we are not yet sure what it is capable of, we have given you the proper information and materials to help you not die when entering it's containment.

Thank you, good luck. Your information will be sent shortly."

> "4:44 AM, message from IT computer.

Newest abnormality.

Name: Currently Unknown.

Identification Code: O-01-62(H)

Basic Information: Unknown.

Found in a highly wooded area. Is not fond of employees.

It's danger level is HE.

This abnormality is capable of containment breach.

This abnormality is capable of employee alteration.

Qliphoth Counter: ???

Attack Type: ???

Abnormality Work Favor

Instinct: TBD

Insight: TBD

Attachment: TBD

Repression: TBD

Origins Unknown."

Logan rolls his eyes. "Welcome back", as if he could ever leave this place. No, the only way to leave after entering is dying. Not even those who retire can leave. But, well, he isn't going to complain. He knew what was coming the moment he got accepted for this job. Whether he dies from an abnormality, by the hands of another, or by the hands of nature, he would die inside of this building.

But he has already accepted this.

Swiping his hand, the messages are stocked away for later. He stands still for a moment, looking around the room he was given in this prison of a workplace.

It wasn't bad, really. Patton had complained about it being too bland for his tastes- and he could see why. The walls were a blue-grey and the floors were hard and cold. You were allowed to decorate, but he only thought to grab what he absolutely needed when he was accepted for this job. Of course, he has a few items of sentimental value, but his dorm looks more like a prison cell than a room someone would live in. Not to mention the only windows in this damned place show projections. He knows this is the life he chose, but he wonders often when he'll get depressed from the lack of sunlight. Or when he'll go insane from the sanity drain of the abnormalities. Or when he'll get killed for making the wrong move.

Maybe he's already depressed. He wishes he could change the color. As much as he loves blue, he knows that bright colors would help better with his mental state, even if he prefers cool colors. Maybe he could convince A to let him order some things. Patton would like that, too. And… Roman.

...

He sighs, adjusting his glasses and straightening his tie, slowly standing from his office chair and walking to the door. Pressing his hand to the sensor, the mechanical doors open for him, and he makes his way into the hallway, where plenty of other dorms are. Most dorms are meant to hold 2 or more people, but since Logan was the best human on his team, he got special privileges. He walks to the elevator, going down into the large building where the information team is settled.

The building is absolutely massive. With the dorms, offices, and the apothecaries scattered on the top floors, while the abnormalities stay underground. There were the employee containment cells as well, when one of the workers lose their sanity from an abnormality. There's the morgue, and the body chute. That's self explanatory. There's the lobbies on the different floors for the separate teams. They did a good job at making it look like a nice environment. It's horrible, though.

The elevator finally slows to a stop, the elevator shaking as the heavy doors open. He steps out into the Information Team lobby, seeing coworkers hanging around, waiting for their next tasks, and others rushing to and fro. Some coming back from their abnormality work, and others wearing fake courage as they go to collect more information.

Logan ignores it all though. He has a job assigned to him. And so, he walks out into the long hallway, brushing past other employees and reading the signs before stopping at the mechanical door labeled O-01-62(H). He's not exactly sure what to expect. He makes sure he has everything on him before he enters. Notepad, information file, gun… He should be set.

He raises his hand, letting the door scan him. The light blinks green, and the heavy door opens. He enters the containment to see the abnormality waiting for him with a smile. It isn't the first time he's seen one waiting for him with a smile. Won't be the last either.

The subject in front of him wasn't the most outrageous he's ever seen, though. In fact, it was rather tame compared to most of the others. What seemed to be a normal man covered in emerald scales. A snake eye, large claws, and some lizard like anatomy in his legs, as well as a long scaled tail. He had a longer neck, that was a little strange to see on someone so humanlike- but Logan is used to this stuff already. He wore nice clothes, and it reminded Logan of one of the other abnormalities.

"My, my, it's rude to stare." He smirks, showing fangs. Logan simply ignores it, taking out his notepad to start writing.

"Not a talker? How boring. First I'm kidnapped, and my kidnappers aren't even social." He dawls, resting a hand on his head. Logan briefly wonders where the extra limbs came from. But, he rolls his eyes. Kidnapping. As if Logan himself wasn't a victim in this thing too.

"You're rather calm compared to the last one. Have you been here longer? More used to the freaks here? Well, I suppose compared to Remus-" Logan's eyes widen slightly.

"How do you know about the other abnormalities? That information is classified, and you're not even allowed to see them." Logan stares.

"Oh so that got your attention? I have no idea what you're talking about, though! I never said anything." The abnormality giggles, snake eye glowing. And even though Logan knows that it's lying, for some reason, his brain wants him to believe it. He shakes his head, writing that down in his notes. He would not let himself panic.

"So you're a liar." Logan notes aloud. The abnormality laughs.

"Ohh, so smart. Wow, Logan, you must be a genius~! Are you gonna get a gold star for making such a good guess?" He smirks, stepping dangerously close to the yellow line. Logan's grip tightens on his pen ever so slightly, but he stays in his spot, writing down his notes.

"Just continue talking and this can be over with." Logan sighs, and the abnormality smirks, pacing around on its side of the room.

"Oh, you think you're safe once you get out of here? You took me from my home and keeping me in this room so I never see the light of day. If I escape, I'll be killed. And for what reason?" It steps forward, straightening its posture. "Because I'm not normal? Not human? I feel like I'm in the right to want revenge. What's next? Will you chain me down? Will you poison me? Tie me up? Burn me? I'd love to see you try."

Logan shifts slightly. The progress isn't going well. He needs it to go well. It has to go well. He cannot let himself drain.

"... You're right to feel like this." Logan says, and the reptile laughs, throwing its head back.

"Oh, that's a lie! Logan, you just want to get on my good side so you'll have a shiny sparkling reputation! It's no use lying to me. I can see everything." The snake smirks, eye glowing.

Shit, this isn't going well. Logan grits his teeth, finishing up his notes and turning to leave.

"Don't think you're safe just because you can leave this containment." It states, watching as Logan leaves without another word.

The moment he steps out and the doors lock, he sees employees with their weapons out, chasing after another employee whom failed with an abnormality. Typical.

The man was screaming, clawing at his hair and face, spouting nonsense and hurting others. And Logan doesn't hesitate to do his job. So without any second thoughts, he pulls out his gun, and shoots the man. It takes 3 shots before the screams go quiet. There's a beat of silence, before employees either go back to work, or go to their respective lobbies to try and not think about their dead coworker.

It was another thing Logan had grown used to, as horrible as it sounds. If an employee breaks, they cannot hurt others and damage any work. It disrupts the order. Really, he's doing a favor putting the poor souls out of their misery. He's just glad that panicked employee didn't murder anyone this time.

"Aw, what the fuck! He was a newbie you guys!" An AI shouts. One from one of the other departments. He looks over to the employee being reprimanded by… Remy, he believes. The AIs were strange. A was the only AI here that was not programmed with emotion. The others are… uncomfortably human. So much so that Logan often forgets that they're not real. Remy rants, dragging away the dead body past Logan, a trail of blood following behind. He blinks simply, going to his next task.

The day continues as normal. Or as normal as it can get here. Talking with abnormalities has become normal. He isn't attached to any of them, but a few seem to like him. He's not sure why. He's not the kindest on the team. He's horrible with attachment work as well. One reason he's not allowed to even go near some of the others. If he did, he'd die. Simple as that.

He finishes up his insight work with O-01-92(T) feeling oddly refreshed. He did come in at a good time, he supposes- she was in her smiling state. He looks down, seeing his next assignment, which was to talk with O-01-62(H) again. He purses his lips. Everything has been going fine so far, he believes he can do this, get information, send it to A and then he can better deal with it. He takes a deep breath, brushing down his jacket and getting to work. He walks down the long hallways until he once again reaches the room.

"Back already, Logan?" It smiles, pacing back and forth. Logan simply sighs. Better to just get it over with, he supposes.

"Yes, and we both know why."

"Really? Truly, I have no idea why. Care to elaborate for me?" He smiles, looking at his long claws. Logan stares for a moment, before sighing.

"I am simply here to gather information about you to better understand you and keep you under surveillance and contained." He states, straightening his posture.

"I must be a real threat." He snarls.

"That you are." Logan says, missing the sarcasm. "Normal people cannot know of your existence as well as any of the others if they want to live a happy life. They'd be ignorant, but at least they would not be living in fear."

The snake stares, unimpressed. "And your employees?"

"They know and accept the dangers that await them. If they're afraid, they should have not signed up for this job." He shrugs. The abnormality laughs.

"Perhaps you're right! This job did a lot of good for Virgil!" He slams his fist against the wall.

"... It didn't do Virgil any good. He simply wasn't ready."

The snake stares. "Yes, as I said… And you and the others let him turn into another freak to keep in captivity."

Logan shifts uncomfortably. This abnormality shouldn't know about the others. How does he know all of this? How does he know what happened to Virgil? He takes a breath, adjusting his glasses.

"That's neither here nor there. Right now, I need to gather information about you. Surely you want me out of here as soon as possible, correct?"

"Oh, of course not, Logan. I just looove seeing your face in this bland bland room. In fact, I'd love to talk to you some more! I'm sure there's so many interesting things to learn all about you." The snake spews out those words, sickly sweet on his tongue, acting as if the sugar of the words made him sick. "If you couldn't tell, that was a lie. This is dreadfully boring."

"... Right." Logan shakes his head, writing this all down in his notebook. The abnormality taps his claws against the metal walls. For a few seconds, the only sounds were the metal taps and the scribbling sound of pencil on paper. He still finds it strange how he has to write on paper when they've got so much advanced technology in this place. But that's besides the point. After he writes down the subjects behavior and general personality, he looks up.

"... If it's alright with me asking, are you cold blooded? You are very reptilian in appearance, so I'm just curious. And, if you get a nicer employee, they could accommodate your needs. If you're lucky, anyway." He starts, stopping himself short from rambling. The abnormality is silent before speaking.

"No, I- Yes, I am cold blooded. I cannot blink with my left eye. I have a forked tongue. But I am also different in certain aspects. But I don't feel like telling you. Have I satisfied your curiosity, smart guy?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Fascinating." He whispers, so quiet that the snake barely hears it as the employee writes it all down. He'd still need to learn about the abnormality's backstory and abilities, but for now these will do, and he can hopefully trade in his information to A later today.

He's snapped out of his thoughts though when the lights flash red a few times. The abnormality smiles, looking up. Logan doesn't leave. He's not allowed to when he's working with an abnormality.

"Seems a certain itsy bitsy spider is having a meltdown." The snake states. Logan purses his lips. How the abnormality knows all of this, he isn't sure. But hopefully he will know soon enough. He hardly notices that his time is up. It's strange- this went alot better than last time, and seemingly quicker, too. He would have thought the abnormality would try to rip out his throat, but he isn't complaining.

"Time's up already? Well, I'm sure you're needed elsewhere, little lamb." He laughs menacingly. "But don't worry, doll. I'm not going anywhere."

"Of course you're not going anywhere. There's nowhere else you can go. So, I'm not worried." And with that, he leaves the containment, making sure to lock the metal door behind him.

The day went a lot faster than he had realized. It was already time to clock out. He sees employees and agents leaving to soon be replaced with guards. And he's never seen them himself, but supposedly the deliverers to bring the abnormalities food. But, he doesn't wait around. He doesn't have to go to his dorm room, yet, so he wanders to the Control Team, seeing Roman reluctantly leave the room belonging to F-06-54(W), or Remus. Roman's very own brother. Though A didn't name him Remus, instead calling him 'The Duke'. Roman hated that they wouldn't call him by his actual name. Patton hated it too. Virgil was slowly being forgotten as 'Virgil'. And Remus was only known by Roman- the others only having vague stories and experiences prior to his… corruption. Logan stares, Roman quickly spotting him and putting on a dashing smile. It was hard to believe he was an employee here. At least Patton's job as a nurse made more sense- but Roman didn't seem like the type for this job at all. But he was surprisingly good. The abnormalities that favor attachment absolutely love Roman. And of course, he has never been purposefully hurt by Remus. In fact, Remus would probably meltdown and kill anyone that wasn't Roman.

Roman walks over, rubbing his arm.

"Rough day? You seem tired." He points out, swaying slightly as he walks.

"Do I? I hadn't noticed. We have a new abnormality, and… he's difficult. Not the worst I've dealt with, though." He shrugs. "Mostly… confusing."

Roman pats him on the back, maybe a bit too hard, but he doesn't seem to notice Logan's discomfort. "Specs? Confused by something? Unheard of! Surely you'll get it, bud! You're the best on your team, after all!" He smiles, pulling his hand away and swaying his arms as he walks with Logan.

"Oh, shut up." He rolls his eyes, sorting his papers.

"Say, are you hungry? Patton wanted to meet for dinner! I know you're a busy guy and all, but we can't have you passing out on us." He hums, looking over with hope in his eyes.

Logan opens his mouth to protest, but slowly realizes he hasn't eaten at all today. He was so absorbed in doing his work that he didn't think about actually using his lunch break. He sighs. "I suppose you're right. How irresponsible of me. As soon as I finish, I'm going to file my subject reports, though."

"Okay! Not gonna stop you. But let's not make Patty cake wait!" Roman laughs, taking Logan's hand and dragging him to the elevator, making him stumble over his own feet and curse under his breath. The brunette laughs, and the two are on their way.

In containment O-01-62(H), when all the lights are out, he changes his form, stretching out his now human fingers.

In the dark, his glasses catch the faint red light of the exit sign.

And he smiles.

>...

>... Information Sent!

> Thank you for your hard work, LOGAN. A report on O-01-62(H) will be written based on your information and be sent to you shortly.

> Thank you, valued employee!

[alj4890]

Kiss prompt

(Thomas x Amanda) with the prompt Kissing someone to stop them blurting out a secret/something they’ll regret. Request by @krsnlove

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) Purely Choices Red Carpet Diaries Fan fiction (this time no Cordonians popped up, LOL)

A/N I'm afraid this story got away from me, LOL. What else is new? I knew those short drabbles of mine were a fluke. Back to writing too much again for requests.

Masterlist

@alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @fullbeaumonty @cocomaxley @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject   @krsnlove @littleblossom357   @annekebbphotography @gibbles82   @bella-ca  @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @pixieferry @cora-nova

Shh!

"You and Amanda are still coming tonight?" Addison asked as she packed up her design ideas.

"Yes." Thomas muttered. "Amanda insists on it."

Holly finished giving Thomas the upcoming schedules. "We better leave if we are going shopping."

Addison nodded. She nervously began to fidget. "Don't forget. Eight o'clock."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Go. We will be there."

Addison hugged him and left with Holly. Thomas heard her muffled voice and then Amanda's. He tried to hear what was said but they faded the further away they walked. He returned his attention to the screenplay he had chosen for his next film.

He was lost in thought and didn't hear Amanda come in. Her arms came around his shoulders and she pressed a lingering kiss to his neck. She propped her chin on his shoulder and looked down at the screenplay. "Is this the undercover agents that fall in love?"

"Yes." He tugged her into his lap. She picked it up and read through the scene he was looking at. He watched her smile at the male agent's dry sarcastic quips to his partner. "Hmm. I think I am going to love Tony."

"I thought you might." A frown formed with the thought of casting the role.

"What's wrong?" Amanda asked.

"Matt Rodriguez is tailor-made for this part." He explained.

"He really is." She picked up the scene again and imagined him saying the lines. "Matt would pull this off better than anyone."

Thomas tightened his arms around her as he continued to think it through. "I wonder how much longer it will be before he is healed from his accident."

"Addison has been helping him with his physical therapy. Perhaps she can give you a time frame." Amanda kissed him softly and eased out of his arms. "I need to talk to you."

Thomas gave her his full attention when she took the chair on the other side of his desk.

"Addison hopes this party helps Matt with his depression." Amanda began.

Thomas leaned back in his chair. "Understandable after all he has endured. Why he agreed to a Tommy Phelps picture is beyond me."

Amanda agreed. "She has been working so hard to keep his spirits up and according to Holly, basically planned the entire party for Matt."

His brow furrowed. "I thought it was since he is hosting it."

"It is in a way, but he isn't aware of it. He thinks he is merely offering his home for it. Addison has done everything with him in mind." Amanda explained.

Thomas studied her a moment. "I doubt she would need to--" His eyes widened a moment as the last few weeks began to make sense. "Good lord. She's in love with Matt. This is why you are insisting we attend, isn't it?"

"She needs emotional support." Amanda looked down as she thought of her own romantic problems in the past. "It is horrible to be so in love and unable to tell the person."

Thomas tapped his pen on the desk. "She needs to tell him. It is the only way she will have peace of mind."

Amanda looked up at him. "That's easier said than done."

"It shouldn't be." He argued. "Matt is a nice person. He will be gentle in his response if he does not feel the same."

"Thomas! That is why it is so difficult. It doesn't matter how kind the denial of love is. It still hurts horribly."

He paused a moment. "You had no difficulty telling me."

Amanda nearly rolled her eyes. "Our situation was completely different! You were romancing me at every turn. It wasn't hard to tell you because each action pointed to you feeling the same."

"Still," he argued. "It could have gone differently."

Amanda narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh really? Do you mean to tell me all that you were doing was not out of love for me?"

Thomas looked up in surprise. "What? No! I meant that to you there was a chance for it to go differently. Not that it actually was..." He shut his mouth. "Let's focus on Addison."

Amanda folded her arms and continued to look at him suspiciously.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. How had he ended up in trouble for Addison and Matt's relationship? He walked around the desk and pulled her out of her chair. He took her out of the study and into the living room. He sat down on the sofa and yanked her into his arms. "Stop thinking." He growled before kissing her.

She couldn't help but smile. "You're lucky I find you irrestible." She kissed him once more before leaving him to get ready. "Remember, the two of us and Holly are the only ones who know about this."

Thomas dropped his head back. "She needs to tell him instead of doing all of this unnecessary--"

"We need to take a shower and get ready for the evening." Amanda called from the bedroom.

Thomas lifted his head. "We?" He quickly went upstairs.

A few hours later, they walked up to Matt's door. "This is ridiculous. What good are we to be in this--"

Amanda snuck a tender kiss. His lips curved at her sweet gesture and he rang the doorbell.

Addison opened it with Matt, both smiling in their welcome. "It's about time you got here."

Thomas checked the time. "It's only 8:10."

She pulled them inside and let out a nervous laugh. "Sorry. I want this party to be perfect."

Matt looked around his house. "You've outdone yourself. I think everything looks incredible."

Amanda leaned over and sniffed one of the floral arrangements. "It is lovely. I knew it would all turn out the way you described it. Doesn't Addison have the perfect eye for detail?" She squeezed her husband's hand to get him to speak.

"Hmm? Oh yes. Of course." He muttered.

Addison beamed at the compliments. "I know it is just a small gathering, but I wanted it to feel special."

Matt gave her a side hug before limping off to sit down. "You have an enormous talent of making everything special."

Amanda let out a heartfelt sigh at his words. Thomas frowned at her reaction. He cleared his throat and quirked an eyebrow at her. She chuckled and kissed his cheek. "You know I love to hear romantic words." She whispered.

"Yes, but I expect that reaction to be from my words to you instead of Matt's to Addison."

"I think I prefer my typical reaction of kissing you when you say romantic things."

He shook his head yet she noticed his lips curve slightly as he kept her by his side while walking. They mingled with some of the guests that had arrived before them.

"These decorations are something else." Victoria exclaimed. They all looked up at the midnight garden theme complete with twinkle lights on the ceiling slowly flickering like stars in a night sky.

"Did Addison really do all this?" Teja asked.

"Yes she did." Holly sipped her drink and looked over to watch Addison check on Matt's comfort.

Thomas snorted. "Seems her energy could have been put to better use simply telling him--" Amanda kissed him. The three ladies stared in amazement.

Amanda blushed. "Sorry. I can't resist him in green."

Victoria smirked. "He's wearing black."

Amanda looked at his shirt. "Huh. So he is. I thought you put a green shirt on."

Thomas stared down at her lips. "No. You handed me this shirt when we got out of the sh--"

She kissed him again as her cheeks burned. Why is he blurting out secrets? "Excuse us a moment." She took him to a dark, secluded nook. "Thomas! Don't tell people about the shower and when I told you about this evening, I meant for you to keep it a secret!"

"Forgive me, the shower situation slipped out. As for the other, it shouldn't be though." He argued. "The sooner it is out in the open, the better they both will be."

Amanda closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. "It isn't up to us to tell."

"I don't know about that. I bet if Addison had been told of my feelings, she would have told you immediately."

"Well she wasn't told and didn't tell me." She looked over her shoulder and observed Addison retrieving a drink for Matt. His smile was different with her, more tender. "I've already had to stop you a few times. Please be careful with what you say."

His dark eyes studied her face and lips before he nodded. He followed her to the bar and they joined in a conversation with Ryan and Chris.

"I'm starving." Chris admitted with a grin. "I'm glad this is a dinner party instead of one of those with a couple of snacks and alcohol."

"I wonder what we are having." Ryan looked down at Amanda. "Do you know?"

Thomas softly snorted. "No doubt it is Matt's favorite meal. With Add--"

Amanda yanked him into a kiss. Her eyes flashed a warning and she cleared her throat. "I think it's Italian."

Ryan and Chris looked back and forth between her and Thomas.

"Are you two okay?" Chris asked.

"You seem a little off." Ryan remarked.

"We're great." Amanda replied quickly.

"Couldn't be happier." Thomas pulled her closely against his side.

Addison got everyone's attention with dinner announced. Matt's dining room was dimly lit with candles. Roses and rose petals were in crystal bowls in the middle of the table. "Beautiful!" Holly exclaimed.

"Very romantic." Thomas remarked. "If one didn't know better, they would think that you are in l--"

Amanda let out a fruatrated sound before kissing him. "Shh!" She breathed against his lips. His eyes darkened as he looked down at her lips.

Ryan snorted in his laughter. "This theme you went with, Addison, is definitely making those two feel the romance."

Amanda blushed and quickly sat down. She averted her eyes and shook her napkin out. Thomas sat down across from her and kept his eyes on her.

The dinner went well. Matt was smiling and laughing, making Addison practically glow with joy at seeing him so happy. By the time dessert came, everyone was relaxed.

Thomas leaned over and whispered to Addison. "Tell him."

Her blue eyes widened. "What if it ruins everything?"

He motioned to Amanda. "I think we are proof that that is not always the case. Tell him. I believe you will be pleasantly surprised."

She looked over at the man she had fallen so desperately in love with. When he was hurt in Russia during filming, Addison had never known such fear. With help from her friends, she had flown immediately to be by his side. Seeing him so badly hurt had made her realize that he wasn't a good friend of hers. He was the love of her life.

She spent months working with him, trying to not only keep his spirits high, but also help him regain his ability to walk again. He had a relationship with his costar going that ended as soon as she found out he might never be able to make another movie again. Addison had worried it would break him but instead he shrugged it off and focused on proving everyone wrong.

Each day she spent with him, assisting with his exercises and trying the massages on him that the therapist taught her when his muscles cramped up, only made her love him more. She saw his strength shine during turmoil, his gratitude and humor in the little things, and she learned he had unending patience with everyone around him. During a low point, he worried that no one would want him if he was unable to regain his previous strength and abilities.

She had wanted to take him in her arms and tell him she wanted him no matter what. It had taken every bit of her will power aided by being completely scared of his possible reaction that had stopped her.

Could she tell him? Addsion wondered how long she could go without it slipping out. What if someone else came along and stole his heart? She would regret it the rest of her life not telling him. Right?

"What do I say?" She asked Thomas.

"In my experience, saying I love you typically covers all bases." He looked at his wife making Victoria and Ryan laugh with a story. His expression softened. "That's all it took for me. Amanda's declaration made my own easily expressed."

Addison released her breath and slumped in her chair. "I think I must be a coward."

Thomas frowned at her. "Don't be absurd! You don't have a cowardly bone in your body. How many students of mine dared to question everything I said?"

Addison shrugged. "Chris, Shannon, and I were the only ones."

"Who was the one to demand I give her the job on her first film because she had the most talent?"

"Me, though I think I might have been a jerk to you." She admitted.

"And who persisted to try and set me up with Amanda? Worked so hard to make us realize our feelings?" He asked.

"Well, Holly helped." She flinched at his severe frown.

"Do not belittle yourself. You have the ability to face him. After we leave, tell him." Thomas stood with the others and left the dining room.

Addison stared at the tablecloth as she thought about what he said. Her brow crinkled with all the horrible responses Matt could have with her admission. She jumped when a hand touched her shoulder.

She looked up into Matt's face. Concern for her caused him to gently squeeze her shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah! Yes. Super duper." She closed her eyes for a moment. Get it together, Addison. "I'm fine. Lost in thought."

Matt smiled at her. "That was a wonderful dinner. You had everything I love." He took her hand and pulled her with him. "Come on. We need to say goodnight to everyone."

Chris and Shannon said their goodbyes. "Our baby has probably driven the sitter crazy." Chris grunted when his wife hit him. "What?" He asked as he followed her. "She never sleeps!" He declared causing everyone to laugh.

The others followed them out with thanking them for the invite. Amanda hugged them both. "Everything was fantastic. The food, ambiance, all of it was perfect."

Thomas nodded. "It was." His dark eyes settled on Matt for a long moment. "I am going to bring a script by tomorrow."

Matt's eyes widened. "But, I'm still healing. Is it a small part?"

"No. You would be the star." Thomas focused his gaze on Addison. "Perhaps I should allow Addison to bring it by. After all, the two of you are in--"

Amanda kissed him. Matt and Addison looked at each other in question. She broke away after a few seconds. "Goodnight!" She pushed Thomas down the walkway.

Matt slipped his hand in Addison's. "What do you think? Should I even bother reading it?"

Addison couldn't stand the self doubt creeping over him. She wrapped her arms around him. "I do. If Thomas says he wants you to read it, then he is convinced you are perfect for the role."

Matt looked into her crystal clear blue eyes and felt hope. She had a way of making him feel that whenever she was near. "Thank you for hosting the party here. I did not realize I needed something like this."

She smiled at him, squeezing him in a hug. "I thought you might. I hoped it would a night you could relax and enjoy yourself.

"Mission accomplished." He brushed her hair back out of her face and had to stop himself from kissing her. She had been an angel sticking by him during all of this. He knew he was in love with her, had suspected it before the accident. He had only dated his costar because he didn't think Addison felt anything for him.

He wished he could tell her. If he lost her and the sweet, gentle hope that she brought with her, then he would be lost. He couldn't risk it. No matter how much he wanted to. Maybe once he was healed and closer to normal, maybe he could. Maybe...

Addison looked up at the sky and mumbled something. She then focused on Matt and spoke as fast as she could. "I'minlovewithyou!" She covered her mouth and waited on him to say something.

His jaw dropped. "You're what?"

She closed her eyes. "I'm in love with you. Please, please dont let this ruin our friendship. We can pretend I never said anything. It's all Thomas' fault! He said I should admit my feelings, but I wanted to protect our friendship. He then pointed at Amanda and reminded me I'm not a coward. That might have been before he pointed at her. I'm not sure. But we can blame him. That can be the basis of our repaired friendship! Blaming Thomas Hunt. Might as well blame Amanda too for being brave enough to be the first to say she loved him. Now he thinks he is a love expert or something. I--"

She gasped when Matt's lips touched hers. Her hands moved up his muscled back and she enjoyed the sensations of his lips and hands on her.

He smiled against her lips. "I don't think we can blame Thomas. I've been too big of a coward to admit that I have been in love with you for a long time." He held her against his body when she kissed him again.

Thomas quietly tugged Amanda back from the hiding spot they were in. She was smiling at seeing Matt and Addison finish their kiss and walk into his home with arms wrapped tightly around each other.

He opened the passenger door for her and pulled her close before she got in. "I regret my advice working so quickly." He smiled softly at her puzzlement.

"I don't understand. I would have thought you would be pleased at having everything settled." She said.

"Yes, but now you won't suddenly stop me from speaking with kisses." He gently nuzzled her neck.

Amanda narrowed her eyes and pulled back. "Thomas? Did you do all that so I would stop you with kisses?"

He leaned down and kissed her. His tongue slowly stroked hers until she held him close. He lifted his head and shut her door before going to the driver's side.

Amanda came out of her stupor. "That wasn't a no." She leaned over the console and kissed him again after he backed out of the drive.

He looked down at her lips before meeting her eyes. "You're right. It wasn't a no."

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @leetje!

This is a secret santa gift for Leonie - Merry Christmas!!

Read On AO3

*****

It (Won’t Be) Lonely This Christmas

As was so often the case, Magnus was woken by the infuriating trilling of Alec’s phone. He made a groaning sound and rolled over to face his fiancé, and received a sleepy, placating pat on the hip as Alec reached out from the warmth of their duvet cocoon to answer his phone.

Magnus didn’t pay attention to the conversation. He knew what it would be, and, much as he despised it, and much as he’d hoped it wouldn’t happen, it was okay. It was Alec’s job, his passion, and Magnus had been fully aware of that when Alec had got down on one knee six months ago.

“I’ve got to go,” Alec said, already tossing the duvet back. His back clicked when he stretched both arms above his head. His t-shirt to rode up, exposing a tantalising strip of his abs that Magnus had hoped to have time to fully appreciate that morning.

He supposed there was always time for that later.

“How long?” Magnus asked, blinking blearily up at him.

“I’m not sure. Maybe a while. Apparently someone called in sick, and they’re struggling to cope in the ER, so they want all available hands on deck.”

Magnus glared—not at Alec, but at the currently nameless person who’d so inconsiderately decided to be sick on Christmas Day. “Does that mean all day?”

“I don’t know. I’ll text you when I get there and find out what’s going on.”

“I thought on call might have meant I’d get to keep you today,” Magnus said, with a forlorn sigh. “Go save lives, my darling.”

Alec snorted, already halfway to fully clothed. “It’s probably gonna be people who’ve drunk too much with concussions. It’s Christmas.”

“Mmm.”

Pulling on his socks and nearly tripping over, Alec glanced up. “You gonna be okay, today?”

Of course he remembered. He always remembered. Ever since Magnus had first told him, so many years ago.

“Yeah.” Magnus yawned, already fantasising about going back to sleep for several more hours. “Go on, go.”

Alec frowned a little, but he didn’t question Magnus further. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Bye. Love you.”

Alec’s expression softened. He bent over to press a kiss to Magnus’ forehead, and ran his fingers tenderly through his hair. “Love you too, babe. It’s really early, so go back to sleep, yeah?”

“Miss you,” Magnus mumbled, closing his eyes and pressing his face into a pillow. Alec’s, judging by the smell of musky aftershave and leather.

A huff of a laugh escaped Alec’s lips. “Miss you too, gorgeous.”

Another kiss was pressed to his temple, this one lingering and soft and almost enough to make Magnus yank Alec back into bed and refuse to let him go, hospitals and saving lives and doctoring be damned.

***

“This wasn’t exactly how I thought I’d be spending my Christmas,” Magnus observed, glancing around.

“No, me neither,” Catarina said absently from beside him, eyes fixed on her phone.

Across from them, sat in a wheelchair with a scowl on his face, Ragnor made a rude motion with the hand that wasn’t strapped up. Magnus smiled brightly at him.

Hospitals were far from Magnus’ favourite place. Aside from his own personal experience with them in the holiday season, they always smelt horrible: like disinfectant and sickness and death swirling into a cocktail of morbidity that Magnus found thoroughly depressing. And they were so white. Why did everything have to be white? It was almost painful to look at.

As were the people who seemed to frequent the ER on Christmas Day. There were those like Ragnor, who’d clearly been victims of festive-themed mishaps, and there were people who’d clearly drunk far, far too much, and there were people who, perhaps worst of all, seemed to be genuinely, awfully sick on what was supposed to be the most cheerful day of the year.

“Ragnor Fell?”

Magnus snickered under his breath. Fell. Ragnor Fell. Ragnor fell—right onto his ass. Ragnor’s surname had never been more appropriate.

They wheeled Ragnor after the half-smiling nurse, down a corridor that seemed to be where the doctors had dumped all the patients who just needed to sober up, and into an office that looked significantly less dreary and clinical than the waiting room.

A doctor in blue scrubs with a stethoscope wound around his neck and the worst case of bedhead Magnus had ever seen sat with one leg crossed beneath him on a spinning chair. He had trinkets on his desk - a photograph of him between a two youngsters who looked like they were probably related to him, a Pride flag sat in a mug with a terrible pun printed across the front, and an array of thank you cards - and a long list of questions printed across a piece of paper that he studiously ignored as he observed Ragnor being wheeled into the room with sharp eyes.

“I’m Doctor Lightwood,” he said, zeroing in on Ragnor’s battered wrist and ankle. “Skating accident, by any chance?”

“However did you guess?” Ragnor asked dryly, and the doctor smiled.

“Third one I’ve seen today,” he said, scribbling something down on a scrap of paper. “Tell me what exactly happened to bring you here.”

Ragnor explained - in the most boring way he possibly could, leaving out all the hilarious, embarrassing parts - about being knocked over by a child on a skating rink and tumbling to his death.

(He failed to mention that he looked like Bambi on skates, that the child in question was approximately three feet tall, and that he’d let out an ear-splitting, high-pitched scream when he’d been barrelled into. Magnus felt a little more sympathetic about the awful crack his arm had made as he’d hit the ice, but until that point it had been fabulously entertaining.)

“Not a skater by trade, then?” Doctor Lightwood asked, scooting forward to examine Ragnor’s wrist.

“No.” Ragnor shot Magnus a glare that told him, quite plainly, to keep his mouth shut.

“I’m going to send you for an x-ray,” Doctor Lightwood said, tapping at his computer. “I’ll wheel you through.”

It wasn’t until the pair came back and the doctor announced that Ragnor had broken his wrist but not his ankle, and that he’d heal up in six weeks, that Magnus stopped worrying.

“Great,” Magnus enthused. “You can’t guilt me into sparing you the pain of Love Actually, then.”

A laugh came from Doctor Lightwood, bright and a little startled. Magnus glanced over, grin loose on his lips, and found the doctor watching him with amusement shining in his eyes.

They were very pretty eyes. He was very pretty in general, now that Magnus thought about it, no longer entirely distracted by concern about his friend. Mostly it was the eyes, but also the messy hair, and the sharp lines of his face, and the way he smiled, and the fact that he had really, really nice forearms.

Magnus’ eyes strayed to the Pride flag sitting in full view on the doctor’s desk, and then back to the handsome face of the doctor himself, who averted his gaze quickly and turned back to his paperwork.

Hm.

Once the doctor had fitted Ragnor’s cast and given him his care instructions, and Ragnor had had a mini tirade about how stupid America was for not having free healthcare and how much he missed the NHS, Doctor Lightwood told them that they were free to go.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, holding the door open for Catarina to wheel Ragnor out, newly acquired crutch held in Ragnor’s lap.

“Merry Christmas,” Magnus replied, offering the doctor a smile while mourning lost opportunities. “Thank you.”

The doctor smiled back, and— Was that Magnus’ wishful thinking, or had the tops of his cheeks turned faintly pink?

“You’re very welcome.”

His voice had definitely dropped half an octave.

Magnus glanced over his shoulder and Ragnor and Catarina, who were halfway down the corridor now, unaware of Magnus’ dawdling, and he hesitated in the doorway.

“How would you diagnose a suddenly rapid heartbeat?”

Doctor Lightwood’s brows drew together in clear consternation. “Do you have crushing chest pain? Pressure?”

Magnus’ lips parted for a moment in surprise. “No, I—”

“Do you feel short of breath?”

Magnus hated doctors. Officially.

“No, it’s—”

“Do you feel hot? Shaky?”

“Oh my god.” Magnus let out a little laugh, and covered his face in mild embarrassment. “No, no. I’m not sick. I was trying to be smooth.”

The doctor stared at him in sheer bewilderment. “You... What?”

“Will you go out with me?” Magnus asked plainly, because, clearly, bluntness was the only option.

“Oh.” He grinned sheepishly, and Magnus hated how charming he found it. “Right. Sorry.”

Magnus held up a hand, palm forwards, and leant around the doctor to pick up a pen. He scrawled his number on the corner of a piece of paper, and said, “My name’s Magnus. You can ignore that this ever happened, or...” He shrugged, and smiled over at the doctor. “Or you can text me.”

He turned to go, half wanting to erase the last two minutes from his memory, when he heard a soft voice call his name.

He spun around. “Yeah?”

“My first name is Alec.”

Magnus had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself grinning. “Short for Alexander?”

“Yes.”

Alexander Lightwood looked positively edible in scrubs. Which was really quite unfair, considering how fucking ugly they were as a piece of fashion.

“I hope to hear from you soon, Alexander,” Magnus said, and, tossing him a wink that amplified the other man’s blush from a faint pink to a saturated red, continued down the corridor, leaving Alec staring after him with a slack-jawed expression.

***

They’d planned a Christmas Day that would consist of nothing more than the two of them, not wanting to run the risk of Alec being called into work while he was visiting his family or Magnus’ friends.

So, when Magnus eventually hauled himself out of bed, he was on his own in the loft. His toes curled against the cold, and he shivered as he pulled on a robe, wishing that Alec were there to warm him up. Alec always seemed to be a human furnace, even in the dead of winter.

Beneath the tree that they’d painstakingly decorated three weeks before, Magnus could see the neatly wrapped present that had his name on it. He wouldn’t open it until Alec came home - of course he wouldn’t - but he folded back the little card to read the message, just to make himself feel better.

It was probably stupid to be sad about Alec being called into work - after all, last year he’d been in the middle of leading a murder trial and had spent Christmas Day at the office, leaving Alec on his own - but he was. Sue him.

My beautiful Magnus, the card read. Merry Christmas. May your year be filled hope and joy. All my love, your Alexander.

Magnus smiled to himself, reading it over a second and then a third time, until he’d memorised the words written in Alec’s terrible, near-illegible doctor-writing.

Alec had texted him to say that he’d be home by mid-afternoon, and, frankly, Magnus didn’t think it could come soon enough. He wanted Christmas cuddles. And possibly Christmas sex. And definitely Christmas kisses.

Also, he wanted to drink his morning coffee with Alexander sitting across from him on the other side of the island in the middle of the kitchen. He wanted to watch over the rim of his mug as Alec read the news on his phone and rolled his eyes silently at the state of the world.

[From: Alexander <3, 11:05]

Deja vu. Just saw to a guy who broke his wrist ice skating.

Magnus smiled to himself as he flicked on the coffee machine and shoved a mug beneath it, and then tapped out a response.

[From: Magnus, 11:06]

I hope you’re not going to say yes to coffee with his super-hot best friend

[From: Alexander <3, 11:06]

If I do, I’m going to need to have an ethical meltdown first.

Magnus snickered at the memory.

[From: Alexander <3, 11:07]

I’ve got to go. Call if you need me. I’ll answer unless there’s an emergency. Love you x

[From: Magnus, 11:07]

I will. Love you too, darling. See you later xx

Magnus sighed as he shut his phone off, and resigned himself to filling the hours until Alec came home and they could do the Christmas thing properly.

***

Magnus grinned when he saw the tall, handsome, dark-haired doctor walk through the door of the café they’d agreed to have lunch at walk through the door. Unlike the last time Magnus had seen him, in the ER, he was dressed in a blue button-down and a fitted leather jacket. His hair still looked adorably hopeless, though.

“Hey,” Magnus said, smiling brightly up at Alec as he approached the table, hands deep in his pockets.

“Hey.” Alec returned his smile and sat down. There was something a little sheepish about his demeanour, but Magnus didn’t get the opportunity to ask, as Alec said, “I might have had an ethical meltdown about this.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow at him. “What on earth do you mean?”

Alec bit his lip. “Well. You aren’t my patient, but you are my patient’s friend, and it seemed... I don’t know. Morally grey.”

“So how did you decide? Couldn’t resist my charms?”

Alec laughed. Magnus’ insides fluttered pleasantly at having elicited that sound.

“That,” Alec said, “and also I asked my boss what he thought.”

Magnus’ lips twitched. “And what did your boss say?”

“He laughed at me,” Alec said, ducking his head to hide a grin. “Told me to stop worrying and have fun.”

Magnus lifted his wine glass and tilted it towards Alec. “Sounds like good advice.”

Alec clinked their glasses together, still smiling that gorgeous, breath-taking smile, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made Magnus want to lean over and kiss them until they both ran out of air.

“Absolutely.”

***

The moment Magnus had fallen entirely in love with Alec was never quite clear in Magnus’ mind.

Sometimes, he’d convince himself that it had been after that first lunch, when they’d spent hours wandering aimlessly around the streets of New York, chatting about nothing and everything and all things in between, laughing and smiling and lost in the wonder of discovering someone new.

Sometimes, he’d think it was the first time he kissed Alec, on a rainy night tucked beneath a bus shelter, both wondering why they hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella with them as they shivered in the cool, wet night.

(It had been a sudden thing. Alec had leant in to kiss him abruptly, with no warning, and had pulled back almost as fast, as though it had been involuntary. They’d stared at each other for a heavy moment, eyes wide with surprise, before Magnus had hauled Alec back in and kissed him until they were both warm.)

(Warm, and breathless, and giggling like teenagers, and absolutely goddamn soaked. It had been perfect.)

Other times, he’d be more realistic. More normal. Perhaps it had been when Magnus had caught the flu, a couple of months into their budding relationship, and Alec had turned up with all his best remedies and treatments and an unending amount of kindness and sympathy—which, considering how whiny and bitchy Magnus could be when he was sick, was no mean feat.

Perhaps it had been the first time they’d had sex, when Alec had told him, so damn seriously, that Magnus was the most beautiful person he’d ever met. When Alec had touched him with a reverence akin to worship, and taken him apart piece by piece, only to put him back together with soft, caring hands.

Or perhaps it had been one of the thousands of times Alexander had surprised him like nobody else managed to. Bringing him a coffee unprompted when he was working at a weekend. Sending him sweet texts during the day. Leaving flowers on his doorstep (or, after they moved in together, on his desk) when he’d known Magnus had had a hard week. Turning up out of the blue to apologise after they’d argued, with devastating sincerity and a fierce determination to fix things.

Or, more likely, it was some combination of everything. Because even after their five years together, Magnus felt himself fall a little more in love with Alec every damn day. Even when they bickered, even when they argued until they slammed doors, and even when Magnus missed him so much it hurt.

Like now.

It wasn’t Alec’s fault. Magnus loved how much Alec loved his job. And he understood that sometimes, jobs fucked things up. His own job did often enough.

But Christmas...

Well. Much as Magnus loved Christmas, he also despised it, for everything it marked in his life.

***

“Magnus?”

Magnus looked up at Alec from where he was pressed against his boyfriend’s torso. They were curled on the sofa beneath a blanket, with the end credits of some shitty Christmas rom-com he’d only half paid attention to playing across the TV screen.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Magnus’ brow furrowed in confusion. “Of course. Anything.”

“Why don’t you like Christmas?”

Magnus’ frown deepened. “I love Christmas,” he said, honestly.

Alec exhaled. “I know you love Christmas–” he waved a hand around vaguely, indicating the Christmas tree in the corner that he’d helped Magnus decorate, despite Magnus having bullied him into getting one for his own apartment the day before, and the garlands strung along the fireplace “–but you don’t like Christmas.”

For a moment, Magnus stared at him, eyes flickering between both of Alec’s, before he said, slowly, “You’ve lost me.”

Alec sighed in frustration—not at Magnus, but at himself. It was the same sound he made whenever he struggled to articulate his feelings properly.

“You seem to love all the stuff around Christmas, and the spirit, but...” Alec shrugged. “I mean, last year you were out skating with your friends, before the impromptu ER trip, and this year, the closer we get to the actual day, the less enthusiastic you seem. Unless—” He paused, looking abruptly uncertain. “You’re not dreading spending the day with my family, are you?”

Fondly amused, Magnus shook his head. “No, darling. Not at all. I love your family. And you’re not wrong, exactly. You know I told you about my mom?”

Alec’s expression turned grave, and his eyes softened with sympathy. “I remember.”

“She died on Christmas Day.”

“Oh.” Alec took a moment to digest the information, and ran a hand up Magnus’ back absently, in a way that probably wasn’t intended to be soothing, but was, nevertheless. “God, I’m sorry.”

Magnus smiled faintly. “It was a long time ago. But that’s why I was out doing something last year, not sat at home celebrating. I mean, I do celebrate, but I try to be occupied. My mom loved Christmas, so it’s... I don’t know.”

“Melancholy?” Alec suggested.

“Exactly.”

They were quiet for a moment. The fire crackled behind the grate, heat emanating out to combat the chill of winter. Magnus tipped his head back and relaxed with his back pressed to Alec’s front, his hips comfortably bracketed by Alec’s knees. Fingers came up to play with his hair, tugging and teasing and stroking. He exhaled, letting his eyes fall shut.

“I love you.”

Alec murmured the words right against his ear, as though it was a secret, and Magnus smiled.

“I love you too.”

“Do you visit her? At Christmas?”

Magnus hummed. “She wasn’t actually buried. She wanted to donate her body to medical science. At the time, I was too young to be able to buy a memorial or anything, but I bought a plaque about five years ago, to go on the park bench we used to sit on when she’d take me for ice cream in the summer. And I don’t usually go visit it at Christmas, no.”

Alec’s fingertips rubbed gently at his scalp. “Can I ask why not?”

“Because I’d just cry and remember the end, when she was sick, and I want to remember all the other times. When she was healthy, and happy. It’s easy to remember that at other times of year, but on Christmas Day...” He shrugged. “It always makes me think of her in hospital.”

There was a pause, and, even facing away from him, Magnus could practically hear Alec thinking.

“Do you want to go now?”

Magnus turned his head to look at him in surprise. “Now? Right now?”

“If you want to.” Alec studied him carefully. “It’s not Christmas yet. It might... I don’t know. Make you feel better on the day, if you visit now.”

“I’ve never thought of that.” Magnus sat up a little. “I suppose it’s not going to hurt.”

Something flickered in Alec’s eyes, something Magnus couldn’t quite put his finger on. He followed Magnus into an upright position and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

“Now?” Alec asked, pulling back just far enough to meet Magnus’ gaze.

Magnus nodded, and kissed him again. “Now.”

***

Snow was falling by the time Alec came home.

Magnus ceased his tapping at his keyboard (if Alec was out at work on Christmas Day, what was to stop Magnus getting a head start on a few things?) and turned from his spot on the sofa to look over at his fiancé coming through the door. A clatter sounded as Alec dropped his keys onto the sideboard. He lined his boots up neatly beside Magnus’ on the mat, hung his coat up, and dragged his fingers through his hair, which was steadily dampening with the melting of the snow that had collected among the strands—because, of course, Alec didn’t even remember to take a hat, let alone an umbrella.

“Hey, love,” Alec said, walking towards Magnus to drop a kiss on his lips. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” Magnus said, curling a hand around Alec’s neck to stop him withdrawing too far, so he could kiss him again. “I caught up on some work and reminisced looking at old photos of baby us.”

Alec arched an eyebrow. “Baby us?”

“Mmhm. Back when we first met. I found that photo we took right before we got caught by the rain and you kissed me for the first time.”

“Oh god.” Alec laughed a little. Magnus picked his things up off the sofa and transferred them onto the coffee table so that Alec could sit down. “That one where you look gorgeous and I look like some kind of mutant?”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “You do not.”

“You’re just saying that so I don’t make you delete it.”

Magnus shrugged, and leant in to kiss Alec’s cheek. “Prove it, my beautiful nearly-husband.”

Alec pulled back to fix Magnus with a look caught halfway between mystified and highly entertained. “What did you just call me?”

“Nearly-husband.” Magnus reached down for Alec’s left hand, and lifted it to press a kiss to his knuckles, right beside his engagement ring. “Because that’s what you are.”

Alec’s lips quirked upwards. “I think the word you’re looking for is fiancé, babe.”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “I want to emphasise the husband bit.”

Alec laughed, and lifted his free hand to brush a thumb against Magnus’ cheek. “You’re so cute.”

“My biceps say otherwise.”

“You can be cute and sexy as fuck at the same time,” Alec said, and kissed him warmly. He stayed close, nose brushing against Magnus’ and fingertips skating against his face, as he murmured, “God, I love my job, but I’m so glad to be home.”

“I’m glad you’re home, too,” Magnus said, voice low. “I was running out of things to do to distract myself.”

He knew that Alec would understand exactly what he meant. What Magnus needed distracting from. But he didn’t bring it up, didn’t push; he trusted that Magnus would say something if he wanted to talk about it.

“Well.” Lips caressed the shell of his ear as Alec spoke, breaths warm enough to make Magnus shiver. “I’m sure–” Alec dropped down, mouth grazing against the sensitive skin of his neck “–I can find a way–” he nipped at the hollow above Magnus’ collarbone, and Magnus’ eyes fluttered closed “–to distract you sufficiently.”

“I’m sure you can,” Magnus said breathlessly, one hand coming up to tangle in Alec’s hair. “But there’s a problem.”

Alec pulled back to look up at him, eyes dark with desire. “Oh?”

“I haven’t had lunch yet.”

Alec rolled his eyes, and let out a reluctant laugh. “Of course you haven’t. It’s only three o’clock in the afternoon. Why would you have had lunch?”

Magnus swatted playfully at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Alec sighed in an exaggerated manner, and stood up, offering his hand to Magnus. “Well, then, lunch first. Then maybe presents. Then I’ll get back to wooing you.”

“Oh, darling.” Magnus smiled cheekily as he leant into Alec, one hand resting on his abdomen. “You did that a long, long time ago.”

[michikowrites-blog]

BTS Prompt Fill Nr.5

Yihaw my little sweethearts and here is a new part...Why are those getting longer ? TT-TT I have the feeling they get worse when I write them longer...sorry for my bad english! I hope you enjoy this part :)

De Prompt de here and de GIF de here <3

“Wake up! Please wake up.”

Park Jimin

Soulmate AU because I can :D

Sometimes,in the middle of the night when everything was quiet and you were snuggled up in the warm blankets of your bed, you wished to be a Blanc. Someone without a Soulmark, without the first words your destined second half would say to you. Everyone was born with those words, not always in their language or the same amount of words. It was different for all, to guarantee that everyone would meet their significant other, but that was easier said then done. Some would never find their other half, some would loose them before even getting the chance to know each other. Since the day you were born the marks upon your lower left arm were depressing to say the least. When your mother saw them the first time it was nearly impossible to calm her down, it is even said that your father shed a few tears. But who wouldn't be devastated by the words on your wrist. 'Wake up! Please wake up.' isn't exactly the kind of words you would wish for your child. They were a unspoken threat looming over your home ever since they appeared. When you were young it completely escaped your mind why your parents never spoke about your Soulmark like all the other grown ups seemed to do with their children. The only times you brought it up you mother burst into tears while your father seemed to be lost in his own mind. So you stopped asking and even tried to hide them, maybe if you didn't think about it they would disappear ? 

The years went by, you graduated and started working, always being a bit envious of the other couples who seemed so happy with each other. Why couldn't you have something like this ? It was unfair, greatly so, but you tried to keep those thoughts at bay and look only on the bright side. You had a good life, good friends and a good job. The company you worked for was training people in classic dance and good behavior. You trained them in manners, old dances and how to behave at special gatherings. Many well earning families would get one of your workers for educating their children so they could take them on balls and such without getting embarrassed. But your boss also helped to teach other people, poor people or even former criminals who now tried to better themselves and to be a new member in society. Your work was to teach classic dances to those who were willing to learn or at least eager enough to try. You loved the slow dances like waltz and the quick ones like sirtaki, it was heartwarming to see these old moves still filling golden decorated halls and putting excited smiles on couples. Even if your future looked to be rather grim it never stopped you from being a romantic fool. When the last pupil was gone and you just moved a tiny bit to the old music of Shostakovich it all seemed to be far away and not as bad as you always thought.

Summers in Seoul were unforgiving and humid, horrible and near to unbearable without at least some cold drinks. And it was on one of those awful days that your boss nearly killed you with your own drink. You were sipping away on some self made lemonade, trying to keep the heat somewhat down when your boss walked around the corner seemingly unfazed by the heat. How this old man could archive this was beyond your comprehension but maybe it was a talent you got with age. “Ah! You're the one I was looking for!”, he beamed at you after your bow was competed and with a lemonade you put into his own hand. He sipped a bit and hummed happily while handing you a small folder. “This will be your next client! Young men, all of them, but bright lads I promise you. Very eager to learn, at least if it's regarding dancing that is... One of them was a client of mine back in the day and he was a little handful I tell you that!”, he laughed delighted and you smiled in response. Your boss was a good man, one of the sort everyone respected the moment he walked into a room without doing anything. Everyone loved him, maybe that was the reason why your agency was so popular. Everyone worked hard,yourself included, to make this man proud. It was an interesting phenomena. “They are professional dancers, I think Kpop is the right name the youth uses these days ? And they need to be educated about a simple waltz for some new choreography... I know you wanted to have some free time after the last client, but I don't want to give this special client to your co-dancers...”, he snickered sheepishly and you snorted a bit, trying to hold in your laughter. Your so called co-dancers were all huge Kpop fans and would probably waste more time on drooling then actually teaching. You weren't explicitly against this kind of music, but you weren't a fan of how people treated these young humans. Sometimes you felt a pang of sadness, watching them on TV, how they couldn't even go to buy a coffee without being spotted and bothered. It must be a horrible lifestyle. You shook your head fondly and told him it was no problem at all, if its only a single dance it shouldn't take you long to teach them. Your Boss seemed to be relieved and patted your shoulder. “Very well then! Off you go, their manager told me that their schedule is quite full and they needed to start as soon as possible. Poor lads, but everyone their own right?”, with a last sip on his lemonade he bid you farewell and moved out of the room. The little folder was relative empty, only some addresses for a training studio and some mobile numbers for you to call to make the appointments. The manager was rather unfriendly, very brisk and short on his words. It left you with a queasy feeling in the stomach. While you were waiting for his secretary to find some free time in their schedules you kept on rubbing your left arm, thinking about your other half. What if they were like that ? Would you mind it or would you learn to accept that trait ? The voice on the other line of the call snapped you out of your thoughts and with a hasty hand you wrote the appointment down. It was in two days, rather sudden but you supposed in that kind of business time was indeed money.

The day arrived and so did the long awaited rain. Big drops fell onto the earth, soaking the ground and filling the air with the smell of dry earth. You were lucky and arrived at the building before those waterfalls soaked you like all the others on the streets. The appointment was still a bit off, at least 20 minutes, but you liked to arrive earlier in case something happened on the way. These people were stressed enough so to arrive late would be the last thing you wanted. A nice elderly woman at the front desk helped you with the papers and showed you the way to the room where the training would be held. The first thing you did was open the windows to let the wonderful air in, taking deep breaths. While you prepared the room for the upcoming training you listened to some radio, moving your hips rather funnily to the Pop music. Sudden laughter ripped you out of your head and taken back you spin around facing two young males not older then yourself, smiling cheekily at your antics. A blush crept on your face, dusting it in a deep red color. The smaller one walked up to you with a playful bow, “My Name is Hoseok and this here is Taehyung”, the latter grinned and waved a bit, “You must be our instructor I suppose ?”. You nodded and smiled at them, still a bit red around the nose. They looked at you expectantly, Hoseok even started snickering a bit when Taehyung asked you for your name in return. You wanted to smack yourself on the head but gave your name instead and both of them laughed a bit. “The others will be here in no time, the rain surprised us all a bit”, Taehyung scratched his head and you realized they were quite wet, the rain must have picked up a notch. You handed them a dry towel which they took gratefully. “We all were a bit embarrassed when we admitted to our manager that waltz wasn't a dance we knew...”, Taehyung huffed, swaying his feet forwards and backwards while sitting on the only desk in the room. “So he told us that an instructor would come and teach us. We were a bit anxious that it would turn out to be boooring” “Taetae!”, the other male huffed playfully exasperated. 

“That's unpolite V!”, a new voice said and the rest of the group walked in, all of them a bit drier thanks to some umbrellas. You smiled amicably at them and closed the windows to stop the now somewhat cold wind from entering. All of them were breathtakingly beautiful, everyone in their own way and you couldn't help but realize that your coworkers weren't that wrong in melting at their pictures. Taehyung waked to the back to one of the members and ruffled his hair, smiling and joking with the guy a bit. He seemed to be tired and you felt a twinge of pity, they were probably stressed enough and now this. You talked to some of the newcomers a bit, all of them quite interesting characters. So different each of them seemed to be, together they were a very close and sweet group. Joking around, teasing and hugging. It made you happy that they apparently had a great relationship to each other, that was sometimes more important then anything else. You decided to leave Hoseok and the other man alone for now to start with your instructions. All of them were indeed bright and talented individuals like your boss told you. Sure they weren't perfect on the first try, but who was ? They gave their best, were concentrated and dedicated. The slow pace was challenging, but they got the hang of it rather quickly and it made you strangely proud. When you stopped moving and told them to try the steps without your guidance for a bit, the lone male from the beginning caught your eyes. He was stunningly beautiful, his blond colored hair whipping around with his movements and the dimples he got while laughing to something Seokjin told him were absolutely endearing. 

“Staring is not nice”, a cheeky voice from your left told you and a yelp left your mouth. “I'm sorry!”, Jungkook laughed airily and made a soothing motion with his hands. “I didn't mean to scare you...I mean, I did! But not this bad”, you laughed at his babbling,shrugging his comment away. “No problem, I'm just a scaredy cat sometimes! Oh and sorry I didn't mean to be unpolite”. He looked at you a bit confused for a second and then grinned again. “Oh no problem, you wouldn't be the first one and far from the last!”. You hummed lowly and looked at the boys again who toweled off and packed their things after you gave them the all clear. “It must be hard, getting drooled at all the time without them even knowing you...”, you trailed off and looked at Jungkook again. He had a strange smile on his face and scratched his head lightly. “It's part of the Job sure...But it is indeed a bit hard sometimes...”, he paused and watched his friends for a while, “more or less for each differently”. You nodded, slowly packing your own things. You understood that, if the work with former prisoners told you anything at all then it is how much power prejudices have, one way or another.

When you finished your packing and turned to close the door you saw that the blonde male from the training session, sitting on one of the leather seats outside the training area, talking quietly with Taehyung. He seemed pale, his hands were trembling slightly and your heart made a painful squeeze in your chest. You fished in your bag for the chocolate muffin you made yourself earlier and walked up to the two males. Taehyung looked up and patted the others knee for a bit to get his attention, until he too looked up to greet you with those impressive eyes. Taehyung smiled a bit, even if it looked quite forced, you understood how concern for a friend can be hard so you just smiled warmly in return. “Double Chocolate Chip Muffin!”, you said chuckling and placed it in front of the now wide eyed young man, who stared at you as if you just got a second head. Taehyung too looked like a dear in headlights, but you brushed it off. They must be pretty tired or they didn't like chocolate, but you wanted to at least try to cheer them somewhat up. “I hope you like it, the sugar will help you get some color back. You looked so exhausted when you entered but I didn't want to bother you so I didn't say anything...and now I'm babbling, sorry!”, you bowed for a last time and waved with your hand to them both. They were still staring and you felt the blush rising in your cheeks, so you turned around swiftly and quickened your steps to get away from this awkward situation. 'Ugh, smooth move', why did your inner voice sound like your mother ?

The inner monologue made you unaware of your surroundings and you didn't realize that you already stepped outside of the building into the heavy rain. It also stopped you from hearing the excited shouts from two young men,nor the frantic screams of the passengers. What you indeed did realize was the deafening honk of the car that was straight heading in your direction. The rain made the street slick and your dark clothes didn't help the driver either. The evening light was gone with the dark clouds above, the rain blocking most of the street lights. The driver didn't do it on purpose. Like most things in life, especially the tragic and sad ones, are a chain reaction of many little things. Accidents happen and most of the people involved didn't even try to get into trouble. It's just how life was, call it destiny if you want. And apparently your destiny was to be crushed by a car. Your body was frozen, as if someone snatched the control out of your hands and pressed stop along the way. The car came closer, the honking got louder and you started to close your eyes when suddenly something forcefully collided into your side and pushed you like a wall of bricks onto the other side of the street where your head smacked onto the sidewalk and everything got dark. 

The first thing you realized was that your lower half was quite cold,but your torso strangely warm. And very comfy somehow. The other senses followed, albeit a bit slowly. You couldn't move yet and everything was wrapped in cotton. It wasn't  nice feeling, to not be in control, but all that faded in comparison to the melodic voice that penetrated your mind. It was a warm voice, melodic and sweet. Like honey twinkling in the morning sun with the color of molten gold. You had trouble in putting meaning to the words the voice whispered, they were louder then the other sounds. As if this voice was right beside you in bed, snuggled up and under the covers blending out the sounds of everyday life. Your head started hurting, slowly but steadily and with the pain the sounds appeared to be clearer as if someone put the curtain aside to give you a free line of sight. Which wasn't working either you realized with a disgruntled feeling in your chest. What WAS working in this stupid body of yours ? Then the voice besides your ear started again and you finally could pinpoint the words it was saying even thought the other sounds tried to block it out. “Wake up! Please, wake up”. Your breath hitched and your body froze, before you let out a small caught and finally your eyes opened. Not much, but enough to stare into the most beautiful brown orbs you have ever seen. It was the guy from the dance lesson, the one in the back you thought looked so forlorn. He stared at you with wide eyes, tears brimming in their corner and you stared right back before a smile lifted your mouth. “Hi...”, your voice sounded so scratchy and the rain drowned out most noises but he must have heard you because his lips started trembling and a wet chuckle left his perfectly formed lips. “Hi...”, he whispered back and his arms squeezed your torso a bit closer to his when sirens could be heard in the distance. There were no further words when the ambulance arrived and they examined you. No broken bones or other bad injuries, just broken skin, some bruises and a nasty concussion. The whole time you were prodded at the young man stood besides you, grabbing your hand like his life depended on it and you too grabbed it maybe a bit too hard, but he didn't seem to mind. When you got the all clear to go home you nearly fell asleep on your feet. The whole ordeal caught up with you and you just let yourself be taken care of by the beauty besides you and Taehyung, who was still a bit white in the face but nonetheless helpful. The last thing you remembered was the soft car cushions you sunk in and the warm hands touching everything they could reach of your body.  

When you woke again it was dark. The fabric you were lying on was so soft and fluffy, it was nearly enough to send you back to sleep. If your head would just agree to that and stop hurting so much. Suddenly some light filtered through the room you were in and the creak of a wooden door reached your ears. The light wasn't that bright but it still hurt to look at it, so you groaned quietly and moved your head in the opposite direction to escape the pain at least a bit. “I'm sorry”, a soft voice whispered, sending small goosebumps across your skin. You could hear the door closing again,footsteps nearing the bed and after what sounded like a Glass being put on a table the bed dipped a bit. You moved again to face the new person and watched as he kneeled on the ground while his hands rested on the mattress, watching your every move with dark eyes. You realized that the lamps from the outside must be highlighting the inside of the room to actually see something and you were glad it didn't hurt your eyes. You let your eyes take in everything you could see and he seemed to do the same before you opened your mouth. “What's your name ?”, you asked, the voice scratching a bit but far better then the last time as far as you can recall. He startled a bit and opened his mouth a few times before he caught awkwardly //cutely// “Park Jimin...I mean for you only Jimin if you want of course...And I hope your feeling better ? Are you ? I can bring you some painkillers if you want. And food! Jin told me to ask if you want to eat anything and I'm really bad at first impressions sorry..”, he trailed off and buried his face into the cushions. 

You moved your hand to his head and brushed your fingers through his soft hair, scratching slightly but mainly patting him like a puppy. “I'm fine thanks to you...”, you trailed off as he raised his head again and watched you attentively while keeping your hand atop his head. “I guess you saved me, Jimin ?”, he shuddered slightly when you whispered his name. A nod followed by a hand reaching out to you and grabbing your other arm where he caressed your Soulmark. “I was so shocked when you said those words to me...”, when you looked at him he grinned //Gosh even his smile is cute// and showed you his left arm. Right there in your handwriting stood 'Double Chocolate Chip Muffin' and a startled laugh escaped your mouth. “Do you know how many cafes I visited just to maybe find my Soulmate ? The others were so annoyed already from all the coffee”, both of you chuckled amused. You grabbed his sleeve and tucked at it softly until he understood what you wanted. Jimin moved onto the bed with utmost care and snuggled into your space as much as he could without intruding. “My mark always made everyone sad...it's not really something your parents would want to hear you know?”, he hummed and grabbed one of your hands carefully, starting to caress your arm. “I was really scared. When you said this to me I was so shocked, I would have never thought to meet my Soulmate like this...And then you were out the door and Taehyung practically screamed at me and pushed me out of the chair. When I finally reached the door I saw you on the street...my heart nearly stopped”, Jimin shuddered and moved a bit closer to you. “Please be more careful next time ya?”. You grinned at him and nodded.”Of course, I need to show you off to my parents after all!”

[adorkablephil]

Fic: If Wishes Were Fishes

Title: If Wishes Were Fishes Summary: Phil wishes for a normal life, but doesn’t like the result Rating: G Word Count: 2,184 Author’s Note: Spontaneously written this morning for the @phandomficfests bingo square “wish fulfillment.” I’d planned to write something entirely different for this, but woke up with this story in my head. I think it’s a plot that’s been written a million times before, but here’s my take on it.

If Wishes Were Fishes

“You know, sometimes I wish this hadn’t all gotten as big as it has. Like … we could just have normal lives without people fucking stalking us everywhere we go!”

Phil didn’t usually get angry like this, but the fact that a fan had followed Dan down the street so persistently that he hadn’t felt safe coming home because he didn’t want someone that obsessive to know their address had just pushed him over the edge. Dan shouldn’t feel like he had to take a taxi and drive around before returning to his own home!

He went to bed that night with his emotions roiling, acknowledging that they’d chosen this life, they’d chosen to live a life where people might follow them around and take creep shots of them and ambush them in airports when they were jetlagged and just wanted to go somewhere to sleep. But sometimes he really did wish they could just live normal lives like everyone else.

******

Phil woke the next morning surprised that Dan wasn’t in the bed. Since it was unlikely that he’d woken up before Phil, chances were good that he’d never gone to bed at all and had instead stayed up all night. Again.

Putting on his glasses, Phil sat up in bed and looked around, only to find the bedroom more of a disaster than usual.

In fact, the bedroom didn’t look the same at all.

The room wasn’t the right shape, and the duvet wasn’t the right color, and the bed wasn’t even the right size. But Phil had watched enough episodes of “The Twilight Zone” to know he should get up to investigate what else might be different.

He hesitantly stepped out into the hall, where socks littered the floor, and walked toward where the most light seemed to be coming from, which he presumed would be the lounge.

Action figures, plushes, photographs, and plants in various stages of death throes decorated the shelves as usual, but only one laptop sat on the coffee table. He walked into the adjacent kitchen to find all the cabinets slightly ajar. One cabinet contained a few mugs, and none of them were Dan’s.

In fact, he had thus far seen no sign of Dan anywhere in the flat.

Searching around, Phil eventually located his phone and decided to phone Dan to find out what the heck was going on around here, but Dan wasn’t even listed in his contacts.

Phil started to get really afraid now. A Twilight Zone world in which Dan Howell didn’t exist was not okay with him! Not for a second!

Sitting down at his laptop, he googled Dan but only found the Howell family’s familiar phone number in Wokingham. Nothing about Dan himself online, which was obviously extremely strange. Phil didn’t have the closest relationship with Dan’s family, but maybe Dan’s mum could help?

Phil phoned their number and, luckily, Dan’s mum answered. Phil had a better relationship with her than with Dan’s dad. “Karen,” he sighed in relief. “I’m trying to find Dan. And everything is strange. But I’m hoping if I can just talk to him we can work this out. Do you know where he is?”

The woman on the phone sounded very stiff when she asked abruptly, “Who is this?”

“Um,” Phil hesitated. Karen should know his voice. “It’s … it’s Phil. Phil Lester. You know … Dan’s … friend.” Dan’s family had never, even after all these years, been very good about acknowledging their relationship, so Dan and Phil had chosen to just go along with the fictional platonic housemates story in order to keep the peace.

“You’re a friend of Dan’s?” Karen sounded skeptical.

Utterly confused and increasingly frightened that Karen not only didn’t recognize his voice but apparently didn’t even recognize his name, Phil said, “Yeah. Um … good friends.”

“Dan doesn’t have any good friends,” Karen replied flatly.

Phil stared mutely at the phone for a moment with no idea what to say in reply to that. But apparently she knew where Dan was, so he just needed to get Dan’s phone number from her and he’d be able to work this out with Dan. They could work anything out together, even in a Twilight Zone world. What should he say? “We’re … um … friends from way back. We haven’t talked in a while. But I’d really like to get back in touch.”

Karen sounded suspicious when she asked, “What was your name again?”

“Phil. Phil Lester.”

Dan’s mum grumbled, “I’ll go see if he’s awake yet,” but Phil was relieved to learn that Dan was nearby and he should be able to speak with him soon.

A moment later, Dan’s sleepy voice came on the phone, “Hello?”

“Dan!” Phil cried. “Oh my god! I’m so glad to hear your voice! What the heck is going on?”

“Phil?” Dan replied, sounding confused. “Phil Lester … from back when we used to do YouTube? I mean, it’s good to hear from you, but it’s been ages! How have you been?”

Phil’s eyes widened. Dan sounded like he barely remembered him! And uncomfortable, like maybe they hadn’t parted on the best of terms but Dan was trying to be friendly.

“Um … good. I think. I mean, yeah, good.” Phil wondered what he was supposed to say next. “Um … how have you been?”

Dan sounded awkward. “Oh, you know, I get by.”

“What are you doing these days?” Phil asked, flailing wildly in an effort to gain some kind of information about the situation.

“Oh,” Dan sounded embarrassed, “you know. Still getting benefits … ever since that thing at university. Living with my parents. It sucks, but … when you can’t work you do what you can, right?”

Dan was on benefits? Since university? And he wasn’t able to work? Why?

“I mean, maybe if we’d really given that YouTube thing a go things would have turned out different, you know? I like to think that, anyway.” Dan sounded both wistful and sad. “But if wishes were fishes…”

Phil didn’t know what to say to that. They hadn’t gotten seriously involved with YouTube? It started to dawn on him that … maybe … without YouTube … when Dan had his crisis at university, he wouldn’t have had anything else to turn to, to give his life meaning. Had he … had he fallen into some kind of depression and been unable to find his way out? Had he been living with his parents ever since?

“Yeah,” Phil replied hesitantly. “If wishes were fishes.”

“So,” Dan seemed extremely uncomfortable now. “What have you been doing? Since giving up YouTube, I mean?”

Phil had given up YouTube, too? What the heck had he been doing with his life? He glanced around the lounge for some kind of clue, but came up empty. “Oh,” he stammered, “this and that.” He grimaced, unsure what to say. “Nothing in particular, I guess.” What would his life had been like if he’d given up YouTube and lost his relationship with Dan all those years ago? He hated to think about it. “I just,” Phil hesitated, then continued, “I just wanted to hear your voice, you know? We were so close.”

“Yeah,” Dan’s voice sounded warmer now. “We were. That was a really good time. I wish…” he trailed off as if stopping himself from saying something he shouldn’t. Then he continued, “I wish maybe we’d given the YouTube thing a more serious try. Maybe now we’d be rich and famous!” He laughed.

“Yeah,” Phil replied numbly. “Maybe we would.”

“Well, I should get going,” Dan said, sounding sad. “It was nice talking to you again, though, and remembering the good times.”

“Yeah,” Phil said again. “The good times.”

And then Dan ended the call and Phil simply stood there, holding his phone in his hand, staring at nothing. He and Dan had both quit YouTube? Dan was living with his parents and—if Phil knew anything about him after all these years and could read anything in his voice—was desperately unhappy? What was Phil’s own life like? Did he even want to find out?

He decided that no. No, he did not want to find out. He wanted to go back to bed, and fall back asleep, and wake up to everything being normal again. The phone rang in his hand, and an unfamiliar number was identified as “Work.” Phil silenced the phone and dropped it on the rug as if it had burnt the skin of his hand.

No. He definitely didn’t want to find out anything more about this world. He just wanted his life back, and—most of all—he wanted Dan back.

So he walked back into the unfamiliar bedroom, crawled back into the unfamiliar bed, and pulled up the unfamiliar duvet until it completely covered his head. “I wish I had it all back,” he murmured to himself, fighting tears. “I just want it all back.”

It took him a long time, and he didn’t succeed in his struggle against the tears, but eventually he did fall back asleep.

******

Phil woke with his head still under the duvet and dreaded finding out what existed outside this bed. Had it all been a terrible dream? Or would he still be in that horrible flat with all the socks on the floor and only one laptop and none of Dan’s mugs in the cabinet?

Then he felt the bed shift and an arm snaked around his waist, pulling him close to a warm body. “Why do you have the duvet pulled up over your head?” Dan’s sleepy voice asked. “I couldn’t even see you to give you a kiss when I came to bed.”

Phil pulled the duvet down abruptly and turned to look at Dan’s beautiful puffy sleep face with his hair all sticking up and the creases from the pillowcase on his cheek, and Phil wrapped his arms around him and held him tighter than he ever had before.

“Whoa!” Dan exclaimed, sounding a bit more awake. “What’s all that for? Bad dreams?”

Phil kissed Dan on the lips, then on both his cheeks and his nose and his chin and his forehead and then his nose again until Dan was laughing. “It’s like being in bed with an enthusiastic puppy!” he giggled.

“The worst dreams,” Phil finally answered him, going back to just holding him close. “The worstest of worstest worst dreams ever.”

Dan pulled his face away slightly so that he could give Phil a soft, gentle kiss, and then said, “I’m sorry you had nightmares. But everything’s okay now.”

Tears sprang to Phil’s eyes as he nodded. He couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat, so he just nodded again and gave Dan another kiss.

They lay there together in bed for a long time before Dan leaned over to pick up his phone and groaned, “Oh, it is way too early! I was up late playing Skyrim and I want to sleep at least another three hundred hours!”

“No,” Phil replied, finally calming down a bit. “No, let’s … let’s go to the shopping centre.”

Dan stiffened. “Are you forgetting about yesterday? I’m not really wanting to run into any fans today, Phil. I just want to hide at home and pretend like we’re normal people who don’t have gazillions of people watching our every move.”

“But most of them aren’t like that,” Phil replied quickly. “Most of them aren’t going to follow us around or do anything creepy … they just love us.” Dan still looked dubious. Phil kissed him again and then stroked his cheek. “We’re really lucky to have so many people who love us. Maybe it would be good to go out and remind ourselves that most of them are really sweet and kind. Think about the meet-and-greets, how happy they make you. Wouldn’t it be nice to just … just meet some people who like what we do? People who say we make their lives better … just by being us and doing what we love?”

Dan rolled his eyes and sighed. “Well, when you say it like that…”

Dan hauled himself out of bed with a groan and stretched, then gave Phil a grin. “Let’s go out and meet our adoring public.”

Phil laughed, knowing that Dan was joking … and yet that what he said was true at the same time. There were a lot of people who adored them … and he and Dan adored their fans, too. It was like a mutual adoration society composed of millions of people.

It was time to go out and experience some mutual adoration. Sometimes it might be the best medicine.

[kirawritesaboutevanstan]

The anchor in their lives  -Chapter four

A/N: I'm not fully happy with this chapter and it feels kind of like a filler. But here it is and it’s important for what’s to come.

I promise this series will be more interesting soon, this is my first one ever so I’m still figuring out how to do this and getting some experience. So bare over with me.

Summary: When two super soldiers lives get turned upside down, they move into an apartment in Brooklyn, trying to deal with their past and figure out their futures. So what happens when the apartment next door gets a new resident, one who has the potential to change their lives in ways they could never imagine.        The question is; Will they let her?

Pairings: Stucky x Original Character Annie ( eventually )

Disclaimer:  This story may contain strong language, polyamorous relationships and eventually smut, mental health talks( anxiety, depression, PTSD and so on. If you’re not comfortable with any of those, you might not want to read this series.

Interested in reading more of my stories? Well, you can find them right here. 

Looking for the masterlist for this series? Well, look no further. It's right here. 

Word count: 2,700

Warnings: None I think? 

TAGLIST IS OPEN, for this series and my permanent one. Currently, those are the only taglists I have. Contact me either by an ask, message or comment specifying which one you prefer x

Previously...

Chapter four

STEVE’S POV

Steve walks in with Annie following him Bucky stares at them with huge eyes, he gives Steve a panicked look to which he replies with a soft smile as he introduces her. "Bucky, this is our new neighbor Annie. I offered her to stay here until the heat comes back because she was freezing in her apartment." Steve says with a big smile, and Bucky looks a little nauseous. Annie gives him a little shy wave, but he keeps staring at her with wide eyes.

"I would offer you a drink, but I'm afraid we only really have cold water from the faucet. Do you want a glass?" Steve offers and Annie shakes her head biting her bottom lip.

"Okay, well sit down. Make yourself at home. We don't bite I promise." He chuckles and smiles at her again. She sends him a little smile and carefully sits down at the opposite end of the couch to Bucky. As she sits looking around the room, Steve has the perfect opportunity to look at her properly.

Her most prominent feature are those brown curls framing her long face. Her brown curly hair stops just above her chest, and it looks so soft, He gets the urge to touch it, to run his fingers through her hair, and then wonders where that came from. Her face is long but adorably chubby, her cheeks were round with a lovely rosy color, but her cheekbones are sharp and well defined. Long black eyelashes and thick eyebrows surround her incredibly dark brown eyes. Her nose is slim, short and completely covered in freckles. Actually, most of her face is covered in varying sizes of light brown spots and freckles. Her lips are perfectly pink and plump, and they look soft. He could tell from her soft smiles that she has dimples, and he hopes that he could get a big smile out of her to see them in action. He can't quite see her body, the view obscured by three blankets covering her frame. But she was short and seemed to be slightly curvy.

She was beautiful, so, so beautiful. Steve hasn't felt attraction like this towards anyone ever since Peggy. He had tried dating, but no one had caught his eyes and, of course, he had Bucky to deal with, and he took most of his time.

She must have felt his gaze because now her big brown eyes look into his blue. And he feels a sudden warmth rush through his veins. She gives him a little soft smile, and he returns it while blushing.

"I like your place, the interior is uh cool" Annie mumbles her cheeks turning bright red. "Thanks, I decorated it myself," Steve tells her, and she smiles at him. "Really? It's a nice mix of modern and old-fashioned." She chuckles and adds. "Very forties like with a twist of the modern style" He smiles even brighter at her words, that was precisely the style he was going for. "That's exactly what I tried to do, you have a keen eye" He compliments her, and her cheeks turn red again as she chuckles nervously mumbling a "Thanks" Steve smiles so warmly and tenderly at her and she smiles at him. They sit there for a while until he hears a growl and turns to see Bucky suddenly get up from the couch and mumbling an "I'm going to bed" before marching out of the room and slamming his door shut.

ANNIE’S POV

A loud bang from inside the apartment, most likely the room where Bucky, the brown-haired scowling man marched to, makes her jump.

"Don't worry about it. It's just Buck. He uh, is having a hard time lately. It's nothing personal." Steve, her new neighbor, tells her, his voice is kind but low. "Maybe it would be better if I leave?" She says as she starts to get up, but Steve stops her, holding out both hands to her.

"No no, please don't go. Stay, please. He's just having a tough time. It has nothing to do with you." He pleads, his eyes begging her to stay. She sighs and nods. Steve exhales loudly and smiles at her.

Her day had been weird, to say the least. Well her whole week had been rather odd. The first day she had met a lady who lived downstairs, and when she told her that she lived upstairs, she had scoffed and wished her good luck, in a very insincere and rude tone. Which seemed rather odd but she thought that maybe she was simply old and strange.

Then the first night she had heard it. The most horrible screams, or well more roars of agony and horror. It was from out of a horror movie. She ran out her front door and followed the sound. It came from her neighbor's apartment. The screams were so loud that it made her skin crawl with the amount of agony, fear and just pure pain. She quickly ran back to her place locking the door.

Maybe that was the reason for the lady's rude response.

And now somehow she found herself in that same apartment where those horrid screams came from, she internally curses herself for not being able to say no. But then again her place was freezing cold, and Steve seemed so lovely and warm that she couldn't resist. Not to mention handsome with his long blondish hair and the long beard. His insanely broad shoulders and bulging muscles, hidden underneath a black t-shirt that was a bit too tight. A pair of grey sweatpants and black socks. He was very handsome indeed and oddly familiar. Now when she thinks about it, so was that Bucky guy.

"Have we met before? You seem so, uh, familiar" She blurts out before she could stop herself. Steve tenses up a little, running a hand through his long hair as his insanely blue eyes meet hers.

"Um, well, you've probably seen me on TV" That surprised her.

"Are you an actor?" He smiles softly. "No, I'm uh. How can I explain this" Steve mutters and then it hits her. Something about the way his face turned into this serious one.

Captain America, Steve Rogers. Of course, she knew she had seen him before and even heard his name. He was a superhero, an avenger even. And Bucky was the winter soldier, that explains the cold looks and hostile attitude. He also had to be the one screaming, and she couldn't blame him, knowing just a bit of his story, mainly because of her interest in the forties.

"Oh my god, you are Captain America" Annie gasps, and he cringes but nods.

"Can't deny that one," Steve says scratching his chin.

"Wow, I had not seen that one coming. This week gets weirder and weirder. Not that you are weird, just weird that this happened. It’s all just weird. Okay, I'm going to stop saying weird now." Annie rambles as her cheeks blush, making Steve smile at her.

"It's okay Annie, relax. I'm just a regular guy who happened to get a super serum and lived in the forties once." Steve jokes making her laugh.

"How was it? I mean the forties." Annie stares at him with glowing eyes, and he smiles softly at her.

"Very different from nowadays. Simpler in some ways, harder in others. Penicillin is good. And the hygiene is a lot better. Less death, which is nice. But also everything seemed simpler back then. The internet is useful but so confusing not to mention the endless technology."

"It must have been insane waking up in this world coming from that" Annie whispers, and Steve looks a little sad. "I'm sorry. God, I'm way too nosy. I'm sorry. I just get so excited sometimes" She blushes, and Steve smiles gently at her again. “I study history in university” She explains and blushes.

"Don't worry about it." He comforts her and adds "Plus I'm not Cap anymore. Just Steve now." Annie frowns in confusion then she remembers hearing something about that.

"Because of the accords right?" She asks him, uncertain whether this is her crossing a line with her curiosity. But he doesn’t seem bothered by it.

"Yeah, well it's all so very complicated. But pretty much the idea is that I'm not Cap anymore." Annie nods and decides to leave it at that.

"So history, how come you chose that?" Steve changes the subject and smiles at her.

"I don't know to be honest. I guess it just spoke to me. History is important, you know? It tells a story about what once was. And I guess I’m just curious by nature” Steve smiles at her and nods.

“Yeah, it certainly is.”

They look at each other, and they both blush averting their eyes. “So, are you from around here?” Steve asks after a few moments of silence.

“No, no, I grew up in Canada actually, Vancouver to be specific.” He seems surprised by that, frowning slightly and then meeting her eyes. God his eyes are so blue it’s mesmerizing.

“What made you come here then? All the way from Canada.”

She shrugs and says “New York has one of the best universities focused on history. And I guess I needed a fresh breath of air.” Steve laughs at that, grabbing his left pec and she can’t help but smile at his amusement.

“Well, you won't find that in New York, more the fresh breath of urine and car sot,” He says while laughing, and she joins him. “Good point, but there is something quite special about New York, don't you think?” Her eyes glisten, and he stares at her with a little-dazed look on his face as if he was hypnotized.

“Yeah, I do” They smile at each other, both feeling the start of something buzzing inside their chests.

Hours pass of them merely talking about their lives and laughing and Annie feels her body slowly warming up, but it's not from the fireplace no it's from the warmth that radiates from Steve mere presence.

A sudden flicker of lights and the whole apartment lights up blinding them both momentarily. Steve peeks out from his hand covering his eyes and mumbles “I guess the power is back” then gets up and walks over to the radiator and sure enough, it’s starting to heat up as well. Annie can’t help but feel a little sad mainly because this means that their time together for the night is over and she has to return to her apartment.

“Thanks for everything Steve. I had a nice time talking to you, and I appreciate your hospitality, but I should probably get back to my apartment.” Annie says, and Steve nods slowly, is her mind playing tricks on her or does he looks sad too?

“Yeah, it was nice chatting with you, and you are welcome back anytime okay? We’re just next door don't hesitate to come knocking even if you just need a cup of sugar” She laughs and nods.

“Okay then, I'll remember that. Thanks, Steve” He follows her out to the front door and opens it for her as she steps out into the hall.

“Anytime. Sleep tight Annie.” She smiles and waves as she unlocks her door and walks in closing it behind her and leaning on the door, taking a deep breath.

“Oh my gosh, this is insane. What are you doing Annie? Stop pounding so hard heart you hardly know him.” she mumbles as she shivers and gets ready for bed. Her mind still buzzing with the image of the soldier smiling at her and those blue eyes staring into her soul.

STEVE’S POV

He leans on the door taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. “What just happened?” He asks no one in particular, laughing to himself. All he can see is her big brown eyes with that excited gleam staring at him, and his stomach does a single flip.

Then he remembers Bucky and walks to his room. Knocking on the door, he hears shuffling but no reply, he decides to open it anyways and peaks inside. “Bucky?” No response, but he knows he isn't asleep. He then carefully walks in noticing the broken picture frame. Well, that explains the loud bang earlier, he thinks to himself. He finds him sitting on the bed, something about his posture makes a shiver run down Steve’s spine. Steve walks over and sits down next to him, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder. Bucky’s eyes meet his, but they aren't filled with fear like they usually are, no there is something else burning inside, but Steve can’t figure out what that is. “You okay?” He asks him and Bucky nods, but something about his whole demeanor makes Steve doubt that.

“Where is your new girlfriend gone?” Bucky asks him his voice laced with disgust. Steve frowns. “What are you talking about?” “Annie” Bucky practically hisses her name and removes Steve’s hand on his shoulder; Steve lets it fall to his side looking down at his knees.

“Don't be like that Buck. You don't even know her, give her a chance.” Steve argues suddenly feeling exhausted. This happened every time they met someone new, Bucky would be all paranoid and pissed at them for even daring to enter their lives. Although this time did seem a little different as if there was more to it than just Bucky not trusting this new person, Steve wasn't sure.

“Why would I? She is going to leave in a few weeks anyway. Why even bother? I'm going to scare her off you'll see.” He whispers while looking out the window. “She might not leave. She seems to have an understanding of us.” Steve says looking at his back; he seems tense and maybe sad? Steve can't decipher the soldier.

“Did you tell her?” He suddenly turns to him eye blazing and fists clenched. Steve is taken aback by the sudden fury in his eyes not being able to reply. “Did you tell her Steve?” Bucky hisses with clenched teeth.

“No Bucky, I didn't tell her. She recognized me what was I to do? Deny it? I can’t do that.” Bucky growls and turns towards the window again.

“Bucky come on.” Steve pleads with him and walks over to him placing one arm on his back, Bucky flinches from his touch and turns to face him. The two men are standing close, so close that if either one of them took one step forward, their chests would touch.

“What’s really going on Buck? It can't be because she knows or whether she will leave again soon. I know you, something else is going on.” Steve lowers his voice hoping to soothe him and calm him down. Bucky refuses to meet his eyes as he stares out the window, chewing on his bottom lip with a scowl on his face. Steve takes half a step closer, feeling brave, he reaches out one hand placing it on his shoulder again.

“Tell me what’s going on” Steve whispers looking at his face. The air is thick with tension, something both men feels but doesn't know what to do with.

"I-" He begins but stops looking away. Steve notices the tears glistening in his eyes.

"Oh Buck" Steve sighs and pulls him in for a hug, Bucky usually refuses to be hugged but something inside him that night made him lean into his touch instead of pulling away. Steve wraps his arms around him, and Bucky hides his face into his neck inhaling his scent, something Steve didn't notice he did.

“Don't leave me, Stevie. Not for her” Bucky whispers almost inaudible into his neck but Steve does hear him, and his heart does a flip and then sinks.

Steve pulls back a little and places his hand on his cheek, trying to get him to look at him and when their eyes meet Steve does something he never knew he would, something that takes him by surprise but feels natural at that moment.

He leans in and ever so softly presses his lips to Bucky’s, and even more surprisingly Bucky kisses him back.

Fin x 

Next chapter...  

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[thorne93]

Curious Conundrum (Part 24)

Prompt: You’re John Watson’s sister. One day you decide to visit your brother for lunch, only to meet the infamous Mr. Holmes…

Word Count: 1468

Warnings: language, flirtation, sexual innuendos (maybe? idfk), murder/crime/case related stuff, angst, jealousy…

Notes: Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong Not only did she beta, but I literally couldn’t have written half these scenes without her help. She contributed majorly, even wrote some parts of scenes. I am forever in her debt.

Also, this starts AFTER Season 2, episode 1. I don’t follow all the episodes, but it does follow the timeline and hit some major events : )

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |  Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 |

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As with all things in life, the things you want to focus on took a backseat. John and Mary were engaged, and they were planning their wedding. In a horrible attempt, John asked Sherlock to be his best man. And to your great shock, Mary asked you to be Maid of Honor.

“Me? Why me?” you asked, perplexed. You knew Mary had a few close girl friends that she could’ve chosen.

She put her arm through yours as the two of you walked along the shops. “Because you’re John’s sister, I really like you, and not to mention, if I don’t make you Maid of Honor, then some other woman has to walk down the aisle with Sherlock.”

This thought hadn’t occurred to you, but now that it had, your blood started to bubble.

You grinned widely at her and said, “I think you’re going to be a great addition to the family.”

At this, she laughed merrily and the two of you went into shop after shop where she tried on probably a hundred dresses. You liked Mary, always had. Well, at first, of course you were skeptical, she was dating your big brother after all. But you could see the effect she had on him, a way she had with him. She was compassionate, yet stern. Something you think John needed in his life.

The two of you had become pretty good friends, in the few times she had stopped by to check on you during your dark time. Sometimes she came with John, watching after you. Other times she came on her own on her way from work. But either way, it was an incredibly sweet gesture, seeing as most people don’t go try to check in on their boyfriend’s little sister when she’s depressed. But Mary wasn’t like most people. She was kind-hearted and forgiving, but not a woman to be reckoned with and you really liked that about her.

After you and Mary had finished, she still hadn’t found a dress. You assured her the look wasn’t over and her dream dress was out there somewhere. You launched into full on Maid of Honor mode as you worked with her to see what all she still needed to get done. You asked her what she wanted John's help with and what she wanted your help with.

So far, it seemed she and John would pick his tux, their rings, the church, the reception, and the food. That left the dress, veil, accessories, shoes, flowers, decorations, and the bridal party attire.

With all of this, you focused on your real job and the wedding, trying to be at John and Mary’s every beck and call. If it was any other time, it would’ve been fine, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized this was bad. Being Mary’s Maid of Honor gave you an excuse to avoid Sherlock. Trying to wiggle out of hanging out, helping on cases, coming to his apartment to spend the night. You always gave an excuse that you were either surfing the web for tips, shopping online, or putting together lists.

You couldn’t help but be prone to not want to be around him. Being around him hurt almost as much as when you thought you’d never see him again. Something about those haunting blue crystal eyes, those long fingers, that notorious coat, his dark curls -- something about them turned your stomach when you saw him. Anxiety and fear would rip through you every time.

One day, this would be a dream. One day, you’d wake up in an asylum, realizing you’d finally snapped. One day, he’d really be gone and your poor heart would just stop beating.

Sherlock continued to try though, he kept pushing slightly. He wanted to give you your space, but he worried if he let up too much, you would feel like he’d disappeared again. So he kept at it, reminding you constantly that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere. Yet, while he was continuing to try and push you, he had his own Best Man duties he had to attend to, which just caused the chasm to grow even further.

Moving in together had even been put on hold because you weren’t ready to leap just yet, and finding the time to do all of that would’ve been impossible. At least until Mary and you were out looking for her dress once more, after you’d looked at flowers, centerpieces, table cloths, and chosen the wine to be served.

The saleswoman was fussing over Mary’s train as she eyed herself in the mirror, then you as you walked around her, assessing how it fit her body.

“Just think, Y/N, this might be you someday!” she said with a giddy grin.

At first, you had no idea how to respond. Marriage? The thought had crossed your mind before Sherlock’s little… event, but now… you could hardly stay in the same room without feeling anxious. It’s not that you didn’t want to. When you thought about it -- Sherlock in a tux, waiting for you at the end of some aisle, all your friends and family there, it sounded quite nice. Even fast forwarding through domestic living. The two of you working cases, solving crimes, helping the justice system just to come home to each other. Someone to lean on… Well, isn’t that what anyone wanted in life? Someone to love and be loved?

You laughed softly. “I’m not sure Sherlock’s the marriage type,” you noted. He had already made leaps and bounds to even date you, then kiss, then have sex. Marriage might be asking too much of the poor man.

“I think any man is marriage material if they find the right girl.”

“I suppose,” you hummed.

“Speaking of, how’s the moving in going?” she asked.

“Moving in? I--uh--”

Shit, you forgot you told her.

“You haven’t started yet have you?” she asked and the saleswoman stepped away to grab something.

“Well… I…” you began feebly, no excuse coming to your head.

“Y/N,” she began in that motherly, chastising way she had. “You can’t put it off forever.”

“I don’t want to. I just… I need time.”

She pressed her lips in a line, nodding before she hugged you. “I’m not going to tell you or make you do anything you aren’t ready for, but I also feel like I should remind you that the man is trying. The least you can do is try to meet him in the middle.”

You nodded. “I know.”

“So what’s got you hesitant? Do you think you don’t love him any more or?”

You shook your head. “That’s not it. I love him too much. I’m just scared that… well that I’ll get too close again and he’ll hurt me again.”

She bobbed her head understandingly before she took your hand. “Marriage is unpredictable. You don’t know what challenges lie ahead, what obstacles you have to face, but knowing you’ll have someone by your side to face them with makes it all worth it. The nerves, the anxiousness, the worry, it’s all worth it in the end. So I want you to think about the fact that life is short, and if you spend all this time pushing him away, you may wish you had never done it in the first place.”

Your head hung at her words, chewing your lips.

“I’m not trying to talk you into staying with him, or moving in, or anything of the sort,” she continued, peering at you gently. “I just don’t want to watch you two miss your chance. You’re a lot like John, you let the pain of your past stop your happiness of the future. Take it from me, you don’t want to do that. You don’t want to live in the past. It never does anyone any good.”

“You’re too wise,” you remarked with a slight laugh.

“You’re about the only one who thinks so,” she joked lightly.

But her words sunk in to you, deep. They dropped anchor and latched on. She was right. All of this pushing Sherlock away had only been hurting the two of you, the last thing you wanted to do.

After going through all these beautiful and sentimental things for the wedding, you’d been pushing down bubbling feelings for Sherlock. You’d forgotten how happy it had made you to see him after a long day, or how thrilled you were the first time you kissed, or how euphoric your nights could be with him.

You didn’t want to forget any more, you didn’t want to dwell anymore. You wanted to live, in the present, with Sherlock.  

You decided to go home that evening, and start packing, ready for a new life, a new chapter with Sherlock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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