#hey future me here. this idea becomes a back bone of this au

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

I have a theory based on Thatcher of the unknown alternative, I thought that the person responsible is Alt Mark. after attending a call (the death of Cesar's mother) both Ruth and Thatcher met Alt Mark leaving her in the process later (it happens as the canon v3) only that Alt Mark appears cursing the police of liars and cowards blaming him for having abandoned Ruth.I think that's why Alt Thatcher is lonely and sad

That’s. A really good idea.

Like Mark cursing Thatcher to an eternity of loneliness, pain, and despair because he was acting like a coward. Maybe Mark was especially angry because leaving Ruth behind reminded him of how he too was left to die because the MCPD was too scared.

I’m not going to lie and say I thought of that before, that’s a good explanation and it makes sense.

EDIT: maybe alt Adam wasn’t responsible for Jonah’s death, instead, maybe Mark went after him for leaving his friend behind. Maybe Mark sees abandoning someone and leaving them to die as the worst thing someone can do

[pocketramblr]

other main character meta- Ochako, pt 1

<part 2>

“Could you send me there?” you ask, while i blink, confused. “The world where someone else is the main character? not because i have any hypocritical biases against the one i got, just curious how the fandom meta changes.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” I nod, thinking, before tapping my wand against your forehead. “Let’s start with Ochako.”

"I'm going to warn you now- I will have to slightly adjust the plot like I did with Mirio, just to actually let her be the main character."

"Yeah, that checks out." You nod, thinking about certain arcs where the female fighting teams get no coverage while the dudes get four different backstory reveals and full fight focus.

"Very well."

The show begins with a brief narration by the girl of quirks and super hero fights- all flashy. Then it zooms out to show the destruction, and a small construction team moving in as Ochako explains that just as there are new careers in society for heroes, there's also a bigger market for construction companies, one of which her own family runs.

"I've always wanted to help them with it, and my quirk would be useful"- a tiny, adorable Ochako finally appears, making rocks in a park float- "but to get a work license like that is expensive and selective- you've got to make a lot of court appearances and convince them why is a good idea and won't destroy the economy. It's much easier to get a hero license."

Then she explains: "Of course, once you have a hero license, you can make a lot more money than just by helping the company. Especially if... Your family company isn't doing very well." A series of tired but loving parents are shown working all hours to make ends meet.

"I want to help them- my parents. They've done everything for me, and they deserve a break. So that's why I'm going to be a hero- their hero."

The training montage is quick, using her quirk during school in training, after school in secret, around the house. She saves up money too, and studies, aiming for a scholarship.

She applies and tests for many hero schools, and the exams all vary widely.

The first episode ends with her looking up at UA, her final one, the one she really hopes to get into.

"Oh, that's nice." You nod. "And we even get to know her parents' quirks here."

"Yep." I agree. "In general, there's a lot more of a look at the financial side. It's pretty interesting."

"And the fandom?"

"Well, certain people get praised for the bare minimum, but I'll admit having a female lead is super uncommon for shonen jump." It's an improvement, though it's up in the air how much of one it will be. "There's also, because we saw a lot more hero schools, a ton of "students at different school" fics, either because they were expelled or because of the danger UA gets into."

"I do kinda feel like this universe is lucky for that sort of world building." You nod.

"It's very cool to see the takes on the aus. But, I will say there's a cost for this world building- the AfO stuff reeeeally comes out of nowhere and tends to not be popular with fans."

The next episode starts, and Ochako helps a boy from falling. "Love interest alert!" The fans notice quickly when the cute boy blushes and doesn't manage to say much before she walks away.

"They caught on quick." You note.

"And they aren't wrong." Not that it's any real feat to be right.

The exam starts, and Ochako is off in a flash. You see a few glimpses of future classmates- Iida, Aoyama, Kirishima.

She does well, racking up villain points and rescue points, until she's a little too ambitious and falls into the rubble. Her nausea is well established by now, everyone knows she's at her limit.

She can't get up.

The green haired boy comes back and stops the zero pointer.

And breaks every bone in the process.

Ochako saves him in return, lifting up the rubble and stopping his fall.

And then vomits violently afterwards.

"You know, I think quirks suck, actually." The fandom tends to agree on this after that episode/chapter. "But it is interesting that there's such a price for the powers, balances it really well."

"Ha." You shake your head. "They caught onto that, quicker."

"Yep." I can't even say it's more highlighted here, it's the exact same way it was shown in our universe- down to the sparkling rainbow puke.

"Though..." You can't quite imagine that's the only thing the fandom is saying isn't actually that great.

"Ding ding ding." I nod. "Did our own main character get treated just like a damsel in distress? Sure, she saved him back, but that just meant she could have floated away on her own in that time, even if it made her sick. Better that than dead. Is it the sexism?" I shrug. "Most decide to wait and see a bit, and by the time they work together in the first battle exercise figure it's a pretty even split between them saving each other."

"So no sexism?" You get happy at that thought.

I cough. "Ah, no. Both in the show and the fandom. You wouldn't believe how many grown men complain about the lady mc, even as they keep watching."

"And have her body pillow."

"Please don't make me think about that." I cover my eyes, but don't deny that it's true. "Anyway, yeah. Get ready for a lot of people to point out that even though the main character is a girl, every single other girl is flat as cardboard so far and that she only has developed friends that are guys."

"Hey, they aren't flat-"

"In the first season? Yeah they are. Unless you meant, physically, in which case..."

"I didn't." You protest. "But I guess I can see your point, at the start."

"Right. Let's continue on."

Uraraka goes to Present Mic to offer her points. The man pats her on the head, and skyrockets to the position of fandom dad.

"It's all about Dadmic and then Dadzawa here," I explain. "The fans were very disappointed to learn Mic wasn't her homeroom teacher, but yeah... He got a huge head start before Dadzawa fics got going."

"Nice. And it's all fanon?"

"Yeah, it may be a good thing he's not actually in it much, or they might realize how much they just made up on their own."

Then she gets accepted in, on hero and rescue points- she's third place overall, and she gets the scholarship.

On the first day of school, she actually gets to know her love interest's name- Midoriya!

There's also the quirk assessment, which really leads to the "expelled to another school" au and the "fire Aizawa and replace him with better Mic" aus, the first of which lasts much longer in the fandom use, but the second one was just as passionate for a while.

Iida becomes the second friend, and gives her the "Infinity Girl" nickname- which actually is the fandom assumption of what her hero name will be for quite a while, a la 'ground zero'.

Then it's time for All Might's first appearance on screen, to much applause of the students, and the announcement that they get their costumes.

During the first battle exercise, there's a lot more lingering camera work in the changing rooms. Ochako gets to expand a lot more on how she didn't want her costume to be that tight. It's uncomfortable, especially when she thinks about wearing it in front of everyone.

"Oh, I forgot she didn't like it at first... Does she just, get used to it here?" It sounds horrible for the plot to just say 'get used to it' to the main character being sexualized by costume makers outside of her control, especially as a child.

"Not on my watch." I mumble, waving the wand. "Don't worry, she'll actually get more costume changes each time, like some other characters."

"Oh good."

Mineta, regrettably, still exists. You find the fandom manages to be even more violent in his removal.

The battle does even out the opinions on Midoriya, as well as lead to a boost in Iida's with his charming little attempt at thinking villainously.

And cements Bakugo as rather hated. No one has really liked him, when the first thing he did was blow up at Midoriya, then get revealed to have called him a cruel nickname all this time. And then specifically hunt him down because all he cares about it beating him up.

"Yeah he's not gonna get a lot of fans here huh."

"He sure never gets first place in the popularity poll." I agree. "Most consider him the subversion of the rival trope to show is just stupid and violent and in real life, people like that don't go anywhere."

"Most?"

I look away. "How dumb of a discourse do you think you could see today?"

"Oh please, show me." You lean in. "It's nice to not have to deal with it in my universe, so I don't care."

The discourse is such.

Bakugo is gay-coded for Midoriya, the violence is a result of him being shoved off for a girl's love interest when she should be single and independent, and the homophobic creator is vilifying all gay people by saying they are predatory to poor straight boys with refused.

"They............... What."

"If it makes you feel better, that's a very brief minority of the fandom. My favorite response to it was "he's not gay-coded, he's bully coded you sanctimonious sumph of a shmuck.""

"Oh good," you sigh. "I'm glad we don't have to deal with actual queerphobic tropes like that."

I stare at you.

"What?"

I sigh. "Nothing, put a pin in that until I bring up the predatory bi thing with Toga."

Your eyes widen, and you start to have some regrets.

"Anyway, we can talk shipping later. Time for more."

The 'exit sign Iida' gives him a boost in being shipped with Ochako, (as well as Yaoyorozu) and also the general idea that "Ochako has two hands."

That one hand can have a boyfriend with a lot of cash to spare for her and the other is also played with.

"I missed the main trio, like this." You smile as they walk off into the sunset after school.

"Yeah." I agree. "Anyway, time for some near death experiences."

The USJ marks the start of the gradual, gradual growth of Dadzawa fics. It also focuses far more on Ochako, Mina, Sero, and Iida having to think strategically to get around Kurogiri. It's only after Iida escapes that we cut back to a slightly abridged version of how Midoriya was doing, then the other kids, before help arrives.

He does still through his first non bone breaking punch though, which makes the audience happy.

All Might saves the day. Aizawa is battered afterwards. Many fans start out by saying they were disappointed, since this was supposed to be the first big fight, and the kids didn't do much. Many others say in response that's the point- we're looking at first years, they had to think and help each other, but in the end they had to rely on adults.

And then the sports festival is announced. They want to do well, because this is how they get work-week placements, which could become internship offers.

Ochako thinks about Hado Nejire, the only intern of a top ten hero, and senior at UA, along with a few others who are on the up and up. She's determined.

"Really? You're bringing in the big three early?" You ask, glancing at my wand.

It's not sparkling.

I cross my arms with a huff. "Look. Nejire is at this point the only intern in the top ten, she would have been recognizable to the students for that, even if they didn't recognize the big three (which really means that they aren't actually called the Big Three by everyone, or at least not a wide enough group for it to be as big a deal as it's treated. Anyway.) But she wasn't, even if she should have been the most famous of the bunch, considering the coverage the first years got in just their first night. That's because a certain someone doesn't actually think of his female characters much, but he has to in this universe, so."

"Ok, yeah, that's fair. So does that change the sports festival?"

"Not... Much." I admit.

“What?”

“Well, keep in mind in the first universe, our main character didn’t make it past the second round in the one-on-one’s. So she’s not exactly guaranteed a win here either.”

You have to nod, admitting that is true.

“And the conflict isn’t so much about having to live up to any predecessor or breaking down some people’s walls via breaking bones.” I tap my wand against my chin, thinking. “There really is two- one about Midoriya, and one about Ochako’s parents.”

“Oh?”

“One, there’s been the Uraraka’s not happy about how much danger Ochako’s been in. Its been hinted at in the phone calls, but really shows up when we get to see them at home before the SF for the first time since she moved for school. They aren’t sure if she can stay there herself, or if the right thing to do would be to pull her out and maybe try a smaller school.”

“I suppose that's fair, if they haven't been able to actually see her or her progress.”

“Right. The second one is- well. in this, Izuku’s win of the first round, and then breaking out of brainwashing, is more about really piling on how good his mind is- all that brain power. This adds more pressure when we see Ochako being offered a plan from him to beat Bakugo.”

“Oh that does sound neat.”

“Yep- but of course, she still refuses. It’s held up as a worse thing, strategically, initially- but then she comes up with a plan that Midoriya confirms in the stands is better than his, and proves to her parents that she’s smart and skilled enough to handle continuing at the school.”

You smile. “That is a cool arc to do, i guess, if very not traditional. But what about all the character setup and growth with Shinsou and Todoroki?”

“Oh, Shinsou’s largely gets delegated all the way later for the joint training arc, where Ochako’s team is directly against him. Todoroki...” I begin to giggle.

You wait for me to answer, getting more concerned the longer i laugh.

“Pocket?”

“Sorry, sorry, yeah. He actually tells her himself in this canon, a bit after stain. Oh! right, i forgot- the cheerleader incident.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. of course they need this merch opportunity! But yes, it happens. The... shall we say, non-body-pillow portion of the fandom, generally saw it as the end of any goodwill to Kaminari, who had previously been seen as a tertiary possible love interest, since he’d flirted with her on the first day. Flirt, but harmless, and unlikely to be important. Then there was that breach of trust and international embarrassment, and anyway he’s basically the second least likely in 1a to be shipped with her now.”

“Wow. So none of that changed?”

“Well, the setup wasn’t under narration from Todoroki about how his mother was bought for her body and how much that sucked and impacted her and the family while on screen we see multiple girls tricked into barring their bodies and its treated as a laugh instead?”

You stare at me. “I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.”

“Neither am I.”

“So, the Todoroki reveal?”

“Right. So, first you need to know the Stain thing- the claims he has against ‘false’ heroes focusing on money is better spotlighted. After Stain’s arrest, Ochako hears a couple of sidekicks at Gunhead’s agency-”

“Wait!” you interrupt. “She still interned with Gunhead? Then what was the point of showing Nejire and Ryukyuu earlier?”

I try not to massage my forehead. “To build up to it. She only made it to the first of the final round, she couldn’t get an internship with a top tenner yet. She’s also got to learn how to disarm someone who fights with a knife. These things build up over more time, small steps.”

“Ah.” You’re satisfied, and let me continue.

“Right, so, Overhears a couple of them talking about Stain’s philosophy and ends up just feeling really bad about it for a bit, trying to figure out if she’s actually being selfish or a bad hero for, you know, wanting her family to not be crushed due to capitalism.”

“Poor girl.” You shake your head in sympathy, the freeze. “Oh. did not intend that pun.”

“It’s alright, i know what you mean. And yeah, she bottles it up for a bit, until the second day back at school. Then Iida reminds her that him bottling things up last week got several kids in mortal danger, and she begrudgingly admits that he has a point and tells them about what has been bugging her.”

“And they comfort her?”

“Well, Todoroki also offers to tell off Kaminari because at this point his mention of stain upset both her and iida, but yes, A lot of reassurances.”

You squint. “I feel like shippers.”

“You’re learning! Yes, Todoroki is just a bit behind Iida in terms of popularity shipping with her. and she does basically get shipped A Lot with each girl in her class too, like imagine double to triple the amount with each girl now, and for the minor guys- but yeah. There’s a lottttt of ships. This was basically called ‘todoroki’s introduction into ochako’s harem’ in the fandom.”

Shipping. fandom just can’t escape it.

“So, then she learns about Todoroki’s past? oh, and what about Hosu? Does she- and everyone else- actually think Endeavor saved the three??”

I snort. “Oh, no. Todoroki’s flat ‘yeah my father totally helped us, as you read on the official report’ basically tipped the fandom off that something else had. But nothing confirmed either, you know? Filling in the hosu gap is another trope in fics that is pretty common.”

“Neat.”

“Yep. But yeah Todoroki tells her his backstory a bit after his introduction into her ‘harem’ of friends. It’s really played up more to caution Ochako- its alright for her to want to help her family, and to work for money to do that. But Rei accepted the marriage offer for money for her family too, and it ended up breaking her. Ochako has to accept a balance- she can work to help her family, and its good, but there are some things she cannot morally do to help them, and other things that she shouldn’t do because she has to take care of her own health first.”

“Ohhhh.” You hadn’t quite expected that, but you sorta liked it, now that you thought about it.

I smile. “It is pretty neat, yeah.” I glance at my watch. “Look, i hate to cut you off, but this post is gonna end up thrice the length of Mirio’s and i think tumblr might stop me, so we’re gonna have to do a two-parter.”

“That’s fine.” You are gracious for what you’ve gotten so far, and do have questions that you’re excited to see answered for the rest of the series. “It’s been fun.”

“It has been.” I agree. “Lets take a break, but you can ask me any questions too, before I return for part two.”

<part 2>

[verfound]

WIPWed: Festering Folder Edition: Legally Blonde AU

@mintaka14 asked about the Legally Blonde AU, which the Disco witnessed the birth of and was briefly mentioned in the notes for "Move Like Jagged". So. Yeah. This is the latest crack AU I've been working on. 😂

See, for my last project for those unit classes I had to take for work, I was talking about different reasons conflict can pop up in your kitchen and how to deal with them. And one of the ways to deal with conflict is by staying positive - you can't control what other people do/what happens, but you can control how you react to it. And that got "Positive" from the Legally Blonde musical in my head, which got me thinking who would be who in a LB AU, and...it all just ran away from me so hard. We have a Plunny Adoption channel in the Disco, and I dropped it there because I did not want another WIP, and the next thing I knew I was 1700 words into the Bend & Snap scene and no one else had adopted the plunny come on guys. 😂

So. Yeah. This is happening. I'm maybe a third of the way through the outline with about three scenes fully written out. 😂

The setup: Marinette is an aspiring fashion designer in her senior year at UCLA. Her life is all set up: she's going to graduate and marry her perfect boyfriend Adrien Agreste, who's on his way to becoming a lawyer and future president of the United States. Everything's perfect until he suddenly dumps her, claiming he needs someone more serious. He moves back out East to start at Harvard in the fall, where he's now dating childhood friend and fellow Snobby Harvard Girl Kagami Tsurugi. Marinette realizes that if she's gonna get her man back, she's got to be someone serious, too - someone lawerly! Someone who wears black when nobody's dead! So Marinette follows him out to Harvard, where she's...let's face it. The laughing stock of the school. But with a little determination (and the help of her super sweet TA Luka Couffaine, who's convinced she's not as Dumb as the others paint her) she's going to show everyone she belongs there - and win her Adrien back in the process!

So Marinette's Elle, Adrien is Warner, Kagami is Vivian, and Luka is Emmett. I'm putting Gabriel as Callahan, with the idea that part of the pressure on Adrien is that his father is this super successful lawyer & professor at Harvard who's expecting him to follow in his footsteps. (Also there's a line in the finale of the musical that says "Warner quit / Says he makes more modeling anyhow!", so while he's at UCLA I have Adrien modeling on the side and he totally goes back to it. 😂) Mylène is Paulette and Ivan is Kyle (the UPS guy). Rose and Alya are Marinette's Delta Nu sisters/best friends, and Juleka is still Luka's sister; Rose and Alya come out and the end to cheer Marinette on at the final trial, where Rose and Juleka meet.

Jagged is Brooke. He's being accused of murdering Bob Roth, his former label owner. He's innocent, but he refuses to give Gabriel his alibi (he was...getting...botox). He was Marinette's neighbor back in LA, and she designed his favorite leather jacket - so he freaks when Marinette walks in with his Estranged Son as part of his legal team. Luka and Jagged have a...tenuous relationship. Jagged is Luka's father, and Luka used to love music/want to be a rocker. He toured with Jagged for a year or two when he was younger as his opening act, but it really disillusioned Luka to the Music Scene. So he ended up pursuing law (thinking he could get into the legal side of things, and Anarka's always in and out of jail anyway so she'll need a good lawyer?), and finds out he's good at it & really enjoys it? It wasn't the career he thought he'd have, but he's happy.

I'm still kicking stuff around & writing the outline, but that's the bare-bones. 😂 And as much as I love the LB movie, the musical is one of my favorites. There's...guh ok I'm not gonna start gushing on how perfect the musical is bc we'll be here all day. 😂 But it is absolutely perfect, and this AU is going to be a blend of the movie and the musical.

Case in point: the song "Take It Like A Man", where Elle repays Emmett by giving him a makeover. It's the scene where Emmett realizes he's fallen in love with Elle and absolutely adorable ("God, I love shopping for guys - watching them change right before my eyes!" "...stop watching me change.").

As for a scene y'all haven't seen yet...I think you've seen a handful of sentences from this one? It's all new for Tumblr, but I think I shared a few sentences on the Disco. 😂

“Hey, Luka, what are you doing tonight?”

Luka looked up, his eyebrows lifting at the smile Marinette was giving him. Her chin was propped in her hand, her eyes looking over him like…well, a little like she was undressing him, if he was honest, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

“Er…prepping for tomorrow?” he hazarded. “Big day in court? Opening statements? Have to make sure we’re ready so my dad doesn’t swing.”

She rolled her eyes, and then she rolled her chair over to his. He jumped when she laid her hands over his.

“You’re ready,” she said. She squeezed his hand, and he swallowed thickly as she continued to look at him like that. Why did his throat suddenly feel so dry? “Can we go somewhere? I…I want to do something. To thank you. For…everything, really. Please?”

“You don’t need to thank me, Marinette,” he said, wondering what exactly she had in mind. Maybe dinner? He was getting kind of hungry, and he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t mind spending more time with her away from the law books…

“I do, though, Luka,” she said earnestly, squeezing his hand again. “You…you’re the only one who’s believed in me this entire time. You’ve done so much to help me, and…I just wanted to do something for you, too.” She took his hand and held it to her chest, pouting her lips and batting her eyes at him, and when had the heat kicked in? It was almost May – it shouldn’t be so hot in the old, draft library! “Please?”

“I…um…ok?” he finally squawked out. He cleared his throat when she hit him full-force with her mega-watt smile, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt as she squeezed his hand tighter. She gave an excited little squeal-giggle-bounce that had him smiling fondly. “What…what did you have in mind?”

“Well,” she said, releasing his hand and turning towards the table. She began gathering the files they’d scattered over the surface, tidying up. “You know I used to want to be a designer – you’ve heard Jagged go off about that coat.”

“His little frock star,” Luka snickered, and she gave him an exasperated little smile.

“If I had the time, I’d love to design you something,” she said, tapping the folders against the table to straighten them, She turned to him, hands on her hips. “But given we need you ready by tomorrow, that’s not possible. So, Luka Couffaine, I am going to give you…a makeover.”

That…was definitely not what he’d been expecting.

“Er…thanks?” he asked, because by the little hitch in his voice he was definitely asking, because he was definitely confused. A…makeover? But…why? Her expression fell a little, and he coughed as he reached up to loosen his tie. “I mean…it’s just…I didn’t think I needed one?”

And I was kind of hoping you’d suggest dinner?

“Luka,” she sighed, still exasperated. She grabbed his hands and hauled him to his feet before dragging him over to the fireplace. She gestured to the mirror sitting above the mantle, where he could clearly see his…ok, yeah, he looked a little disheveled, but they’d been in the library all day! He was expected to look rumpled! “Look at yourself.”

“I am,” he said, trying not to sound offended. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, trying (unsuccessfully) to even out the wrinkles in his shirt. He tried to ignore the shiver that wanted to race up his spine at her touch. Focus, Couffaine, he thought. She sighed, turning him towards her, eyeing his clothes rather critically.

“Luka, you know I adore you,” she said, and he tried to ignore the way that made his stomach flutter, “but look at you. This is a high-profile, celebrity case. It’s going to be televised, and you’re going to show up looking like your only suit came from a Goodwill?”

“Hey,” he protested, weakly. He could feel the heat rising on his cheeks again. He looked at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck. “I have two suits, thank you very much, and only one came from Goodwill.”

He glanced up at her to find she had lifted one of those perfectly sculpted brows at him, and he grinned sheepishly before adding: “…the other came from Salvation Army.”

“Luka!” she laughed, squeezing his arms, and his grin warmed into a smile. He liked making her laugh like that. He… “That’s my point, you dork!”

Her laughter petered off, and she started fiddling with his tie. He glanced down at his outfit and tried to see her point, but he honestly thought he looked fine? Rumpled, sure, but that wasn’t anything a good tumble in the dryer or some ironing couldn’t fix. The gray slacks weren’t bad, and the white dress shirt with the thin, dark blue check matched his dark blue tie. Sure, his shoes were a little scuffed, but no one was going to be looking at his shoes. Marinette sighed again, and he looked back up at her.

“Luka, do you remember what I told you I did? Back at UCLA?” she asked. He nodded.

“You had a 4.0 in fashion merchandising,” he said, making her smile. “You wanted to design clothes.”

“So let’s just say this is something I’m actually good at,” she teased, and he frowned as he reached up to lay a hand over one of hers. He squeezed, making her look up at him.

“Hey…you’re good at this, Marinette,” he said. Her smile said she didn’t believe him, so he squeezed her hand tighter. “I mean it, Marinette. I may have helped you study, but all of this was you. You got Agreste’s internship all on your own. You went from the bottom to top of your class on your own. You put the work in, Marinette. You’re so incredibly smart, and you’ve got this…this…gift. You see things others don’t. You aregood at this.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for Marinette to throw herself at him in a bone-crushing hug. He stood there for a moment, dazed, but before he could move or think or respond she was already pulling away and wiping at misty eyes. She smiled up at him, and he wondered if it would be ok if he hugged her again. He kind of felt cheated out of the last one.

“Thank you, Luka,” she said, shaking her head to clear it. “Ugh, ok, but seriously! This is what I was originally good at – so let me shine, ok? Look. You’re good at this, too. You’re such a talented lawyer, and if Agreste gives you half the chance you’re going to blow them away in court – but no one’s going to be thinking about how brilliant you are if you show up looking like a bum. Luka, it’s…it’s me showing up to a costume party dressed like a bunny!”

He blinked at her, remembering all too well that night he’d bumped into her at the bookstore and she was dressed in nothing more than a one piece, bunny ears, and tail.

“The look is half the fight,” she said, taking his hands in her own. “Don’t give them a reason to judge you just because your shoes are old. Please? Let me buy you a suit. Let me do this for you, Luka.”

He still didn’t get it – not really, if he was perfectly honest – but when she looked at him like that…

“…ok,” he said, and the smile and second hug she gave him made it all worth it.

[abarbaricyalp]

('til i carry you home) Your Hand in My Hand

Prompt Fill #1 for the ask sitting in my box: Handholding 10/ happily doing everything with just one hand, if it means they don’t have to let go

Lordy help me, I went back to the fr@ au :/

AO3 link in the reblog!

Sam was a little bit sun drunk and a lot a bit beer drunk and he wasn’t sure which to blame on the way he was laying across Bucky’s bare, warm back while Bucky tried to grill burgers in the courtyard of the frat house. Sam said ‘tried’ because, well, he had taken Bucky’s hand hostage half an hour ago and hadn’t let go since. At first, Bucky had put up an admirable fight against the rest of the frat bros about who had to do the cooking at what point. How was he supposed to grill and hold Sam’s hand and hold his beer? He was occupied and didn’t want to put either thing down. Someone else could put the burgers on the pit and half watch them.

But then Sam had forgotten about Bucky’s out and finished off the beer in his hand and then grabbed them another one, ice cold from the box and soothing on his rapidly warming, sun-toasted skin. And, well, that was the end of Bucky’s beer hand.

“So I was tellin’ Frankie,” Bucky was saying to someone Sam didn’t recognize. After a month and a half together, Sam had gotten to know most of the guys who lived in the house but parties like this brought dozens and dozens of other people to the house and Sam just could not be forced to care about anyone’s friends except the people Bucky actually liked. “I was tellin’ Frankie… I was tellin’ him… Shit, Sam, what was I tellin’ Frank?” Bucky asked, turning to look over his shoulder at Sam.

“I didn’t know you’d seen Frank recently,” Sam said with a yawn, curling his fingers in Bucky’s hand for a second to let a little bit of air attempt to dry the sweat between them.

“He called the other night. Maybe you weren’t here. Anyway, it was something about--”

Sam closed his eyes against the excessive October warmth again, cheek rested on Bucky’s shoulder, feeling the low grumble of his voice more than listening to it. He could even almost ignore the jostling of people at his back like this, narrow his existence down to the two feet depth he and Bucky took up together in the patio courtyard.

Sam had almost drifted off when Bucky suddenly let go of his hand for only a split second, though it was enough to have Sam drunkenly whining, before he threw his arm over Sam’s shoulders and grabbed his hand again. It left Sam’s arm bent at the elbow and sweat immediately began to pool there, but at least Bucky was holding him again.

“And then, get this, the bastard jumped out of the dummy plane into the pool,” Bucky was saying as he leaned back against a stone bench. He took the drink from Sam’s hand and gestured with it as he continued his story. Or Frank’s story. Sam wasn’t sure where the segways were when Bucky got animated like this. “He’s fearless. It’s wild. He’s wild. Man, this is almost empty.” The last part was directed at Sam and was accompanied by Bucky shaking the beer bottle.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “It was colder than just standing around.”

Bucky laughed, full chested but still lacking. It was the way he laughed when people were watching him, when he wanted people to think he was fun and silly. Not quite the way he belly laughed with Sam, arms around his middle, curled to one side to hide his scrunched up face. Certainly not the ungainly way he snorted when Sam surprised him with a biting remark or mean observation.

The guy Bucky was talking to drifted to another conversation--something that involved him puking on a beach--and Bucky looked over at Sam, fake smile immediately falling into the one that Sam knew better.

“Hey,” he said with a nod.

Sam rolled his eyes but nodded back. “Hey. Come here often?”

“Well, I live here, so.” Bucky’s mouth quirked to the side and he leaned down to kiss the corner of Sam’s mouth before they could even finish the pantomime. “How ‘bout you?”

“Yeah, I keep getting dragged over here,” Sam said. “Got it bad for one of the guys who lives here.”

“Gross,” Bucky answered and kissed him again.

“Barnes, the burgers, come on!” someone shouted over at them.

Bucky flicked him off, though it wasn’t so intimidating with him trying ot hold onto the empty bottle at the same time. He tossed it towards a bin and Sam cringed at the crash of glass on glass.

“Wouldn’t this be easier with your flesh hand? Or both?” Sam asked as Bucky tried to fight with a flame that had suddenly roared up thanks to some excess fat dripping down to the coals. As if Sam wasn’t the one holding on. Then again, Bucky had freed himself and then reattached himself. So maybe it was his fault now.

“Maybe,” Bucky said, shoving a metal spatula under a patty from the side without a flame. “But then I’d have to let go of you. And if I do that, you might run off to someone cuter. Since, apparently, you have a thing for guys in this house.”

See, his fault.

Sam rolled his eyes again and his drunkenness washed over him suddenly, head going light at the sudden disorientation. Bucky’s arm tightened around his shoulder so Sam didn’t stumble.

“You’re the biggest lightweight I’ve ever met. You’ve got so much muscle hiding on those bones of yours and still can’t hold cheap beer.”

“Sorry I’m not used to bad alcohol,” Sam mumbled and dropped his face to Bucky’s neck.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed. Just for Sam, like those laughs and that smile. “You can’t just do this to me.”

“‘M not doin’ anything,” Sam yawned, then let his lips drag over the sweaty skin of Bucky’s neck. Goosebumps followed after his mouth.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed again, a hitch appearing at the end.

“Buck!” Clint called out, which was about the only voice in the crowd that could make Sam lift his head to look at what commotion was happening.

A bad one, actually. A very large beach ball was falling right over the open flame of the grill and all the very well formed patties that someone--fuck, Ben something?--had worked on for ages.

Bucky batted the ball away, sent it spinning over their heads towards the cactus, and then he pulled Sam along with him to jog a few steps to bat it back towards Clint and his friends up at the basketball court before it could become victim to agave spines. “How are you gonna try to cause an explosion when you’re not even the one cooking?” Bucky called up at him.

Clint raised both hands in an exaggerated shrug and went back to whatever dumb game they were playing. Bucky went back to tending the burgers one handed. Sam tried to subtly roll out his shoulder.

“How long are you gonna hold me hostage?” Sam asked with no heat in his voice.

“Until I can get you back into my bed. Or your bed.” His eyes flickered up to Sam’s balcony. “Quieter in your bed.”

“I don’t have AC right now,” Sam reminded him.

“Fuck your neighbors. And your leasing office.”

Sam had to agree. Spending several days at the frat house had never been his idea of fun and he was almost to his end with it all. “I like your bed,” he said instead of saying any of that. “It’s soft.”

“It’s the blanket. I’ll get you one for Christmas.”

Sam laughed and Bucky pulled him closer, kissing his hair and squeezing his hand. The idea that Bucky was already thinking about them together months in the future was enough to make heat, hotter than the air around them, bloom in his stomach. He held onto Bucky’s hand tighter and silently promised to never let go.

[noona-clock]

The Demon 👿 Afraid

Genre: Parent!AU

Pairing: Jae x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Parental anxiety

Words: 1,604

Day and Night  👿 Zombie  👿 Tick Tock  👿 Love me or Leave me  👿 STOP  👿 1 to 10  👿 Afraid

Sometimes when I look at you beside me I think you’ve become unhappy due to my greed The you who said the sky was beautiful Are now walking looking only at the ground It’s like seeing me

You resemble the moon Illuminating the black sky But your light is becoming Overshadowed by my darkness

...Now that Jae was actually, literally, physically holding the baby -- his baby -- your baby -- your daughter in his arms, he realized just how incredibly terrified he was.

You had tried to warn him. For forty long weeks (and even before then), you had told him over and over how drastically your lives were going to change. How CRAZY big of a change having a baby was. How it was going to majorly affect everything.

He hadn’t quite believed you. He’d thought you were being just a bit dramatic, to be honest.

But now that your daughter was here, and now that he could look into her eyes...

Boy, were you right.

And, boy, was he afraid.

I mean, what had he been thinking?! Why had he ever thought bringing an actual human into this world was a good idea?! How could he ever be a good enough parent?!

Your daughter, your brand new baby daughter was so pure! So innocent!

And he... was not. He possessed so many fears and so many flaws; how exactly was he supposed to raise her to be a good person when he barely felt like he was one himself?

Yikes.

This was an existential crisis like he’d never experienced before.

Even in this moment when you look and smile at me The times before you knew me I won’t seem to make you happier than then I’m so afraid I’m so afraid That you’ll change like me I can neither let you go or hold on to you

Both you and your daughter were sleeping soundly, and now that night had fallen, the hospital seemed more empty than before. There were no nurses or doctors popping their head in to check up on you or the baby.

So... Jae was basically all alone.

He stared down at his daughter, his forehead deeply wrinkled as he took in her peaceful countenance. She breathed softly and evenly in his arms, her little limbs moving around every so often.

“Can’t you just... go back in?” he whispered, only half-joking. “Just for, like, another month or two?”

Things had been a lot easier when you had just been pregnant, and he felt like if he had just a bit more time to prepare...

Oh, who was he kidding? No amount of time in the world could have prepared him for this.

His daughter jolted awake then, her eyes blinking open and her tiny mouth stretching into a yawn.

Jae froze.

And then she began to whimper.

“Oh -- no, no, please --”

The whimper turned into a cry.

Before you could wake up, Jae stood from his chair and began to bob up and down like he’d seen all the new fathers in TV shows and movies do.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured as soothingly as he could. “It’s okay. Just go back to sleep.”

He wriggled one hand free and attempted to pull her blanket tighter around her in case she was cold. I mean, she probably was. She’d just spent forty whole weeks being nice and warm and cozy, and now she was out in the big, cold, cruel world.

Yet another reason for her to just go back in! She was probably much happier in there! Much warmer and away from all the scary, bad things happening in the Real World.

She finally settled back down, and as her eyelids started to flutter closed again, Jae leaned down to press a soft, relieved kiss to her forehead.

...Oh, boy.

She smelled amazing. And her skin was so soft.

Jae pulled his head back to look down at her again, and my god, how had he not seen just how adorable she was?

And... he helped create her. There was a part of him in that tiny little body. A piece of his soul, and... a piece of his heart.

Yes, he did still kind of want her to just go back in.

But now... he also wanted to never let her go.

What should I do You, who are hurting because of me What should I do Me, who would hurt without you

I’m so afraid I’m so afraid

Was this really what being a parent was like? One second, he was afraid and freaking out and asking himself why he’d ever wanted a baby in the first place. The next second, he was filled with so much indescribable love and pride and he knew he would die inside if anything bad happened to his child.

Okay, serious question: ...why did people do this?

Why did people put themselves through this torture? Willingly?! And why had nobody told him it would be like this?!

Jae heard a soft groan come from behind him, and he turned around carefully to see you shifting around in your hospital bed.

...Oh, yeah.

You had tried to tell him. He just hadn’t listened.

“Hey,” you murmured, your voice tired and groggy. “How is she?”

Jae shuffled over to your bed and perched on the edge of the mattress, tilting your daughter the tiniest bit so you could have a better look.

“She’s fine, she’s -- uh -- just sleeping,” he told you. “How are you?”

You reached up and touched her nose with your index finger, delicately tracing over her features as a soft smile grew on your lips.

“I’m exhausted and really, really sore,” you admitted. “But she’s perfect.”

Jae bit the inside of his cheek briefly before he said, “Yeah, about that. We... we got a little problem.”

You glanced up at him and raised your eyebrows. “What problem?”

“The problem is... if anything -- anything -- ever happens to this little girl, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

To his surprise, you responded to his statement with a laugh.

A laugh!

“I’m serious, man,” he urged.

“I know you are,” you said. “But... Jae, honey. Things are going to happen to her. She’s a human being, and her life is not going to be perfect all the time. She’ll get hurt. She’ll fall and scrape her knees and elbows. She might even break some bones. She’ll get into fights with her friends. She’ll get her heart broken. With your genes in her, she’ll probably get in trouble at school. And she’s going to cry, maybe even a lot.”

“Like her mom.”

“Like her mom,” you chuckled. “Or she could refuse to cry like her dad. We don’t know. ...But what we do know is we will be there for her.”

Jae nodded solemnly. “Yeah, absolutely. Always.”

The room was silent for a little, and then you gently nudged Jae’s side. As soon as he turned to look at you, you smirked at him. “See? I told you everything was going to change.”

Jae immediately scoffed and rolled his eyes before standing up to walk away from you. “Dude, be quiet.”

“I did, though!”

Even in this moment when you look and smile at me The times before you knew me I won’t seem to make you happier than then I’m so afraid I’m so afraid That you’ll change like me I can neither let you go or hold on to you

Jae took his daughter over to the window, the small sliver of moonlight just barely illuminating her serene face -- you were right, though. She was perfect.

“Hey, you,” he said, and to his slight surprise, his daughter opened her eyes and stared up at him. Jae stared right back, and even though she was literally a day old, he could’ve sworn she smiled at him. His own lips curved into a grin, and he continued. “I got something to tell you.”

Jae waited a few seconds.

“Are you listening?” he asked.

He waited another few seconds, and then he nodded as if she had just assured him she was.

“Good. Make a habit of that. Okay, so: I just met you yesterday, but I already love you. Like so much. You won’t even understand how much until you have a kid of your own -- in about forty years, all right? And you’re only allowed to get married, like, a year before that. But, anyway. I know you probably want to go back where you came from because it was nice and warm and you were all alone in there, and out here it’s super scary and your dad is crazy. Trust me, I wanted you to go back in there, too, for a little bit. But I promise you -- I promise I am going to try my best to make sure you’re happy. ...To be honest, your mom will probably do a better job than me --” Jae leaned in and whispered against her smooth forehead. “Because, don’t tell her, she’s a way better person than me.”

You didn’t say anything, but Jae knew if he turned around in this moment, you would be beaming.

“And I promise I’m gonna try not to pass on all my flaws to you. You’re going to be really good in school, and you’re going to remember everything, and you’ll always be really, really, really good about replying back to messages.”

Jae paused for a second, gulping down a lump of anxiety in his throat and allowing himself to simply look at his daughter. Take in every single thing about her right now because he knew everything was going to be changing so quickly, he wouldn’t be able to keep up.

“And... I promise that when the time comes to let you go -- let you be your own person and make your own decisions and live your own life... I will. I might pitch a fit about it, but... I’ll do it. Because I only want the best for you, and I’m not cocky enough to think I know best when it comes to everything. ...Just some things.”

Right now, it was pretty difficult to imagine that day actually arriving -- the day when your daughter would raise her eyebrows and purse her lips and put her hands on her hips and say “Dad, I know what I’m doing!” That day was so far into the future, and there was so much that had to happen before then.

But Jae knew it would get here in the blink of an eye.

And, boy, was he afraid.

[punksarahreese]

I might not get another chance for recurrence?👀

Hehe

Uncertainty | Recurrence

Cancer!AU; Ava makes a leap of faith after a bad thing happens

Prompt: “I may not get another chance.”

Word count: 1451

CW: cancer talk

Part 2 of Collapse

***

This was something Sarah had feared since Ava first said the words. It was never a dealbreaker, she didn’t dwell on the idea because she knew it would drive her insane, but it was a worry. Ava meant the world to her, she had become so important to her in such a short amount of time and her love grew greater as they became closer. Ava was so strong, so confident, and her past only proved how far she had come to get to where she was. She had been doing so well, since she was fifteen years into her remission the only thing they ever had to worry about was her missing ribs and minimized bone density. It was all supposed to be okay, Sarah had been so confident, but her hopes were shattered when Sam found her that day.

“Doctor Reese,” she had caught up to her in the cafeteria and Sarah was confused, “I need you to come with me.”

“Doctor Zanetti, I-”

“It’s Ava,” those words had her attention in milliseconds, “She collapsed.”

Sarah had almost cried right then and there, terrified for the wellbeing of her girlfriend. Still, Sam had taken her hand and tugged her out of the room, knowing she needed to be with Ava in that moment. Everything was so uncertain, especially since they didn’t know why she collapsed, and both of them feared for her. The two weren’t close, only friendly because Ava gave them a common relation, but they were here for each other in this. Sam knew if this was bad news that Sarah would bury her own fear for Ava’s sake, so she silently made note to check up on her too.

Ava was in an ER bed, an oxygen mask over her face and her eyes half-lidded. She was clearly medicated, barely noticing Sarah had entered the room until she came over to the bed. A gentle hand on top of hers got through to her, though, and Ava looked up at Sarah weakly. She was embarrassed, that was obvious, but her breathing was too shallow and ragged for her to make any believable excuse for her being there. Something was wrong, they both knew that, and they could only wait for the worst.

“What happened?”

It was Connor who answered, walking into the room again, “After a surgery I went to ask her about a case. We were walking to the ward and she collapsed, her respiration was really low.”

“Chest… tube,” Ava muttered as she gestured vaguely to the plastic tube that Sarah hadn’t seen sticking out of her gown before. She looked at Ava incredulously, knowing that her flinch from that morning had been way more than just a strained rib. Hindsight was 20/20, though, and all Sarah could do was sigh and lean a bit closer to bonk her head lightly against Ava’s. She needed to be close to her, to be sure she was okay; it was all she could do.

“Fluid?”

Connor nodded but didn’t say anything, just leaned heavily against the wall across the room. He wasn’t there as a doctor, she realized, he was there as a friend. Sam had stayed outside, citing that it was too cramped in the room and she didn’t want to make Ava uncomfortable. They all knew she hated this, the worry and the coddling, but it was all they could do.

“Best case scenario is pneumonia, then,” she concluded with a shaky sigh, making Ava tug on her wrist.

“H-hey,” she took a deep breath that Sarah could hear rattling uncomfortably in her chest, “I’m... fine.”

“Ava, I had to shove a plastic tube into your mediastinum less than 45 minutes ago,” Connor retorted incredulously, “You had to have known something was wrong.”

Sarah looked at her pointedly but didn’t add to that, because she didn’t need to be chastised or embarrassed anymore. Ava had a habit of pretending she was okay until she wasn’t and this was just another one of those times. She was used to pain, she spent half her childhood and adolescence in pain, so of course she was used to it. Ava didn’t like to appear weak and to her this was probably nothing, even though they all knew the implications.

“I didn’t want to assume the… the worst,” she shrugged, “I’m alive, for now.”

“Ava, don’t,” Sarah warned, not ready to even think about what she meant by that. Of course Ava was assuming it was back, even though pneumonia would make more sense. It was cold and viral pneumonia was going around the inpatient ward, she probably caught it when doing post-ops. That’s all Sarah could tell herself because she was too afraid to admit what else might be happening.

“Sorry…”

“You’re okay,” Sarah leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head, “Just… you’ll be fine, okay?”

“I’m fine, darling,” Ava concluded, the sure nod she gave Sarah was enough to soften her and ease her nerves.

“Gross,” Connor rolled his eyes as the brief affection, “I’ll go check on the CT.”

When they were left alone, Ava shifted a little on the bed and looked up at Sarah. The space she made was a peace offering, an apology for hiding her pain and for making light of the bad situation. It was also a silent request for comfort, even though she wouldn’t ask outright in a situation like this. She needed Sarah, she needed to feel grounded and safe in so much uncertainty. It was what they both needed and it’s why Sarah didn’t hesitate to sit down on the uncomfortable gurney mattress beside her.

Ava leaned into her immediately, hiding a flinch when she jostled her chest tube. Sarah just wrapped an arm around her, mumbling a “be careful,” into her shoulder.

“Sarah?”

“Yeah, Avey?”

“I-” she sighed shakily and held out her hand, waiting for Sarah to take it. Their fingers laced together as perfectly as they always did, a familiar pressure that soothed them both. Sarah waited for her to gather her thoughts, knowing she was probably terrified and trying to make light of it all to cope. This was hard on her, sure, but Sarah couldn’t imagine what Ava was feeling right now.

“I’ve got you, okay?” she said gently, “Whatever this is, I love you, Ava.”

That had Ava squeezing her hand, a shy sound escaping her as she looked down. She nodded and then glanced back at her with a little smile. Sarah wasn’t sure what she was thinking at that moment but the words that came out of Ava’s mouth had her in shock.

“I want to marry you.”

“A-Ava I-”

“I’m serious,” she added firmly despite the way her breathing was uneven, “I love you and… I may not... get another c-chance to say that. So yeah, I do want… want to marry you.”

“God, you will be the death of me,” Sarah muttered as she hid her face in Ava’s shoulder, even though she knew she had already seen her embarrassed blush. She wasn’t upset, she honestly felt her heart swell knowing Ava wanted to marry her, but the situation was hard. She didn’t want either of them to think about a future where they couldn’t spend it together, even though the threat was looming over them.

“Don’t say that,” her words were a little muffled, “You have every chance, okay? You’ve made it this far and I’m sure as Hell not giving up on you, so you better not either.”

“Sarah…”

“Hey, I want to marry you too,” she added pointedly, “So you will keep your stubborn ass alive, won’t you?”

Ava grinned at her, mood immediately improving as she took off her oxygen mask to lean forward and steal a kiss from her lips. Sarah just laughed a little, kissing her back gently. Despite everything, this was the kind of comfort and reassurance they both needed. Whatever happened they were together and they would get through it. Ava certainly wasn’t going to miss a chance to see Sarah as a bride, her bride, that was for sure.

It was short lived, though, because Sarah knew she was struggling to breathe enough as it is. She urged her to put the mask back on, though she did press another kiss to Ava’s forehead to appease her. Ava compiled without complaint, just happy to know Sarah was there. Despite all this uncertainty, one thing she was sure of was that she would marry Sarah Reese one day; not even cancer would stop her.

[captainkirkk]

The Magnus Archives Fic Recs

In no particular order, a list of my favourite fics I’ve found since getting into TMA. 

(Contains spoilers)

ceylon, assam, and darjeeling by Sciosa

People do not bring Jonathon Sims tea. Martin Blackwood, newly-minted archival assistant, has apparently not received this memo.

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

patchwork by Jothowrote

Part 1 of Anthill verse

It was happy hour at the Anthill, and it was busy. Jon got there late, held back at the institute by an irritated Elias. Elias knew exactly what Jon did with his Friday nights, and he hated it.

In fact, one of the main reasons Jon went each week was because of Elias’ distaste for the place. Jon himself wasn’t overly keen of the dusty, faded décor, grimy floor, or limited selection of IPAs, but he didn’t go to the Anthill for the place, as Elias well knew. He went for the people.

An AU in which all the various Avatars hang out at a bar.

Martin: A Model Assistant by idareu2bme, kristsune

Tim finds Martin's old photoshoot, and makes everyone appreciates model!Martin the way he should be.

doctor, don't look me in the (eye)s by blacksatinpointeshoes (Note: Crossover with the Bright Sessions!)

Part 1 of jon sims v the nhs (+ podfic)

Joan Bright has a new patient. He's carrying an old tape recorder and is covered head to toe in scars. Jonathan Sims looks dangerous, but Dr Bright has dealt with all sorts of atypical individuals. She has no reason to be nervous.

Right?

avatar groupchat by gayprophets

10:12 PM Jared Boneturner: the arm bone was a femuur :) i looked it up Elias: Humerus. Jared Boneturner: yeah it was pretty funny :)

tell me again about how it hurts by Wildehack (tyleet)

After Ny-Ålesund, Jon goes to the prison and compels his way as far as Elias’s cell block before a guard stops him. There’s a bright streak of blood dripping unchecked from the guard’s nose, and his eyes are vacant. He says calmly: “There are twenty people between us, and I’m prepared to sacrifice them all if you keep walking.”

deep within, just beneath the skin by cacowhistle

A collection of drabbles that explore the things that may come with becoming the Archivist.

(A collection of drabbles that focus on the more eldritch monster parts of Jonathan Sims. Some good, some bad.)

Come Change Your Ring With Me by j quadrifrons (Jenavira)

The Lukases demand the Archivist marry into the family, and the Institute relies on them too much to say no. Peter is smug. Elias is fuming. Martin is suffering. Jon thinks this might be tolerable if only Peter would hurry up and leave him alone already.

OR, the soap opera we call an Archives revolves around Peter Lukas this time.

Canary by brinnanza (+ podfic)

There is a door in Jon’s office that is not supposed to be there.

AKA: Helen comes bearing gifts.

Hey Martin, I Like Your Shirt! by idareu2bme

Tim has started shamelessly flirting with Martin around the office. Martin can tell it's an act, but what he doesn't understand is why Tim's doing it in the first place.

the umbrella by Wildehack (tyleet)

"And to think—all of Jonah Magnus’ carefully laid plans, the centuries of scheming, the murders, the sacrifices, all of that work could have been completely undone if Martin Blackwood had gone back for an umbrella.”

Clothes Have No Gender by kristsune 

Jon wears a skirt to the Institute for the first time, and gets reactions he hadn't expected.

these halls ain't empty with you by hulklinging

Jon doesn't meet someone like him until he's almost twelve years old.

Once he does, though, he'll do anything to not let go.

(The Magnus Institute's human experiments are not alright. But at least they're not alone.)

It Serenely Disdains to Destroy Us by trill_gutterbug (+ podfic)

Martin gnaws his lower lip. “Do you think he’ll - I mean, do you think it’ll be…”

Melanie's smile becomes a little less of a grimace. She claps his shoulder, not ungently. “Martin. It’ll be fine. It’s only temporary. He’s not moving in.”

Martin chuckles. “Yes. Of course.”-

Jon's flat is being fumigated. He is not impressed. Martin offers his spare bedroom.

Martin Blackwood Tries to Save the World (and Drags Jon with Him) by TheRealAndian

It's the end of the world, and Jon and Martin have no idea how to fix it. That is, until a suspicious door lands them unsuspectingly in the past, long before the apocalypse. Now they have to work together with their former coworkers and their younger selves to stop the Watcher's Crown from being completed, and maybe even admit their feelings for one another.

Hybrid Signal by Mad_Maudlin

To be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and warning at once.

Martin receives a message from an unknown individual, and discovers there's more to his role at the Magnus Institute than he previously realized.

a gift; a promise by holdingbee

jon requests an assistant. or a few, if elias can spare them. elias certainly can.

a self-indulgent one-shot where martin and jon meet a little differently.

Like Real People Do by HistoriaGloria

'Martin Blackwood had been an archival assistant for over 2 years when he found the first tape.'

Martin finds a tape which reveals some uncomfortable truths about his boss and sets him searching for the monster that Elias refers to only as 'Archivist'. But for all of Martin's work and research at the Magnus Institute, he is not prepared for what he might find down this path.

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

Ooooo prompt time! "You're safe with me. I'll protect you." With familial Virgil, Deceit, and Remus?

A/N: okay so… I got carried away. also this turned into a bit of a found family superhero au that I really should revisit in the future! Enjoy!

Warnings: morally ambiguous Deceit (his name is Eden- edit: this has been changed to Janus), morally ambiguous Remus, vaguely implied abuse, mentions of troubled childhoods, kidnapping mention (sorta), death mention, violence, implied broken bones, nightmares (sorta), blood mention

-

Janus crouched on top of the building, glaring down at the facility in front of him. According to his sources, the Academy had locked away some sort of weapon inside. If he could get the weapon before the Academy used it against rogue supers… it would mean turning the tide for everyone the Academy deemed unworthy of training. 

The Academy was a ruthless organization that tore young, superpowered children from their homes, and if they weren’t worth their time to train, they would be thrown out on the streets to die. Janus hadn’t been one of those kids, but instead once was a highly trained super from the Academy… only to realize that they had turned him into a weapon, not a hero.

So Janus had ran- or teleported, rather. His superpower was being able to disappear into a flurry of golden sparks, then reappear anywhere as long as he could see it or clearly picture it. He had taken his best and only friend Remus along with him, as the young electrokinetic had become like a younger brother to him. Remus did have a biological twin brother… but neither of them knew what had happened to him. All they knew was that he had been taken with Remus, thinking that he had powers as well, and when it turned out that he was just a regular little boy, he was cast out. So nowadays, Janus and Remus were determined to bring down the Academy, find Remus’s twin brother, and maybe end up with a normal life. But it would be a long time before then.

“Ready for a blackout, Jan?” Remus’s voice asked through the communicator.

“No, I thought I’d sit on top of this building for a bit,” he snarked back. Remus cackled, and Janus soon heard the unmistakable crackle of Remus’s electricity. The facility’s lights flickered out… as well as all the buildings in the city block. Janus chuckled, tapping the side of his goggles to engage the night-vision mode. He spotted Remus crouching in the shadows beside the Academy’s once secure facility, and a smirk came to his lips as he disappeared in a flurry of golden sparks. He reappeared next to Remus, who gave him a lopsided grin.

“Nice of you to join me,” he teased.

“Supposed I should show up. You wait out here while I secure the weapon,” Janus said, his dry tone shifting to a firm order in a matter of moments. Remus nodded curtly, green electricity buzzing between his fingertips. Janus hoped that he wouldn’t get cocky and jump the gun on the Academy agents… but on the other hand, the less agents Janus had to deal with, the better.

“Good luck. And… be careful,” Remus said, tone strangely serious. Janus allowed a small smile to slip onto his face.

“You too,” he replied, and with that, Janus darted into the building. 

The first few corridors seemed empty, but as Janus made his way closer into the belly of the beast, there were more and more agents he had to avoid. He didn’t want to engage them unless absolutely necessary- he was no good to the rogue supers of the world if he was caught. So sneaking around it was, and if worse came to worse, he would teleport away. It just was a bit riskier, since he didn’t completely know the facility. If one of his teleports went wrong, he could end up causing severe harm to himself.

Luckily, he made it to where the weapon was being held. Unluckily, the doors were heavily guarded. Two agents probably twice Janus’s size were standing in front of the doors, arms crossed over their chest. They carried no physical weapons, which meant that their powers must have been pretty substantial. Janus rolled his shoulders back. No way he could teleport into the weapon room- he had no idea what it looked like beyond the doors, and he couldn’t risk it. So he had no choice but to fight his way in.

“Pardon me, but I believe it’s time for the changing of the guards?” Janus announced, strolling into open view.

“It is?” one of the agents asked. The other agent smacked them on the back of the head.

“No it’s not, idiot! He’s an intruder!” the other agent snapped. They reached for their communicator, but Janus teleported over and snatched both of their communicators, then teleported away again.

“Oh, there’s also a new rule being enforced- no communicators, so you won’t be needing these,” Janus taunted, dropping the communicators and crushing them beneath his foot.

“Hey!” the first agent cried indignantly. Janus rolled his eyes.

“Oh? What are you gonna do about it?” he snarked. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, as the agent lunged forward, their hands extending out at Janus and wrapping around him. Of course, this agent just had to be an elasticity super. Their stretchy limbs tightened around Janus, and he struggled to breathe for a moment or two- until he remembered that he could just teleport out of the super’s grip. He disappeared in a flurry of sparks, then reappeared right over the agent’s head, delivering a swift kick to their face before backflipping away from them. The agent crumpled to the ground, and Janus looked down at them with a self-satisfied smirk.

His moment of triumph was interrupted when something slammed into his back, and he fell to the ground with a grunt of pain. He laid on the floor, too out of it to try and get up. Someone else made that decision for him, as he was grabbed by his wrist and was pulled up so that he was face to face with the other agent. Their face (as well as the rest of their body) had turned to stone, and Janus was coherent enough to swallow nervously.

“Listen here, punk. What are you planning?” they growled.

“You must be as thickheaded as the stone your face is made of if you haven’t figured out what I’m trying to do,” Janus scoffed. Too late, Janus realized that this was the wrong thing to say, as the agent’s face twisted with fury, and they tightened their grip on his wrist. Janus felt something snap in his wrist, and he screamed in pain as white-hot agony blinded his vision for a moment or two. He dimly felt the agent’s other hand come up to grip his chin and force his gaze to meet theirs.

“I’ll give you one more chance. What are you- augh!” the agent suddenly cried out in pain and dropped Janus. He managed to roll away before the agent suddenly fell forward. Janus began to push himself up to his feet, only to find someone above him, holding out their hand.

“Remus,” Janus gasped in relief.

“Bet you’re glad that I followed you in,” Remus replied with a grin as he helped Janus up. He draped Janus’s good arm over his shoulder and let the other super lean on him as they made their way to the door. But when Remus shoved the door open so they could step inside… neither of them were prepared for the sight that met them. The only thing that was in the room was a control panel of some sort that was hooked up to a large glass cylinder in the center of the room. And inside the cylinder? A seemingly normal boy, sat on the floor of the cylinder and hugging his knees. He was wearing dark jeans and a threadbare long-sleeved purple t-shirt, and he couldn’t have been more than eight years old.

“Remus, the cylinder must have its own power source, can you shut it off and get him out?” Janus asked urgently.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Remus replied, yet again strangely serious. He gently dislodged himself from Janus, and walked over to the control panel. He examined the panel for a moment or two, then slammed his fists down on top of it, sending green electricity rocketing through it. A section of the cylinder swung open, and in an instant, Janus felt a wave of fear shoot through him. It was powerful enough to send him to his knees, and he was greeted with a flurry of horrifying images. Remus sprawled out on the ground, a dark pool of red around him and his trademark chaotic smile nowhere to be seen. But it wasn’t just Remus- it was hundreds, maybe even thousands of bodies of people- no, children. All those that were cast out by the Academy.

Janus blinked, and the horrifying vision was gone. He glanced over to see Remus, the real Remus curled up on the floor and gripping at his hair. Janus looked back to where the child had been sitting before, and found him in the same position. Janus struggled to his feet, and began to stagger towards the boy.

“Go away!” the boy cried, voice distorted and echoey. Janus felt another pulse of fear, and promptly realized that it was the boy who was causing it.

“It’s okay! We’re here to help you! My name is Janus, what’s yours?” he asked, taking another step forward. There was another shuddering pulse of fear, but it seemed weaker. That, or Janus was just getting used to them.

“I- I’m Virgil,” the boy said, peeking up at Janus. His eyes were pitch black, but they were filled with as much terror as the boy was causing. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Virgil. Would you like to come down from there? My friend, Remus, and I can get you out of here. We just need you to calm down a little bit first,” Janus offered, trying to keep his voice as soothing as possible. Virgil perked up a bit, head cocked to the side curiously.

“Could… could I see the sun? And trees? And grass, and, and- the real world?” he asked, voice sounding slightly less distorted. Janus smiled.

“Yes, yes! We’ll show you everything, it’ll be like an adventure,” he said, holding out his arms. Virgil still looked a little hesitant, but he took a deep breath and stood up. Janus felt most of the fear ebb away, until he realized that his own fear was all that was left. Virgil hopped down from the base of the cylinder, and he took a few trembling steps forward.

“You promise you won’t hurt me?” he asked, sounding like a normal, scared boy for the first time since he had begun speaking to Janus.

“You’re safe with me. I’ll protect you,“ Janus said firmly. The barest of smiles grew over Virgil’s face, and he rushed into Janus’s arms. Janus froze for a moment or two, but quickly recovered and held Virgil close to his chest, despite his injured wrist. A hand was placed on Janus’s shoulder, and he looked up to see Remus grinning down at him.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend!” he cooed. Janus looked back down at Virgil.

“Something tells me that our bond will become much more than that. Welcome to our little family, Virgil.”

-

Tag List: @4amanxiety @adorably-angsty @alix-the-skeleton @allthemetalsoftherainbow @armageddonhascome @backatthebein @bangthekobrakid @bloodropsblog @cefinitely-rolo @coffeestudylive @cosmic-chu @cyndaquil17 @dani-jeanso @didsomeonesayprince @emphoenixcat @every-day-insomniac @fandomsandanythingelse @flix-net @freekiphotography @freepaperie081 @giant-motha-fuckin-snake @hanramz-the-fander @hhhhhhhhhhfjaskfsagfhasfgdsakfsa @i-need-a-social-life-2710 @i-really-dig-the-purple @ironwoman359 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @kanejandkruge @kitsuneprideleader @kittycake574 @le2712 @littlemiracle05 @loganpatton @look-its-meme @loverofpizzaandallthingssweet @lynlinked @mewsicalmiss @midnightcandy @moonstonefox @musicsavedmefromdeath @mystrangedarkson @nightmarejasmine @not-as-smart @of-treble-and-dragons @punsterterry @purplepatton @quoth-the-sparrow @radioactivehelena @royallyanxious @ruuworld @sanders-trash-4ever @save-me-oh-dream-of-mine @shadowsfromthesun @shygirl4991 @sleepyssnail @softbludemon @softnic @sombraplayslazertag @sos-fandoms @that-one-garbage-nerd @theatresweetheart @the-fandoms-are-takin-over @thelowlysatsuma @theresneverenoughfandoms @thisrandomperson102 @thuriweaver @vigilantvirgil @virgilantanon @yetanother-fangirl 

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: April 10/20

SPECIAL EASTER WEEKEND EDITION: FIFTY FICS FRIDAY

Hey, everyone!!

Well, I asked on my Twitter and here if y’all wanted to see a special edition 5FF for the Long Weekend since we’re all stuck inside (and some of you stuck with family I’m sure you’d like to avoid or are just tired of seeing), and it was a unanimous YES, because who doesn’t love to curl up all weekend with a good book or fanfic??

So here we are: Fifty fics either pulled out of my ass, recently read, recently bookmarked, or recently Marked for Later! Each section has a count so you know how many are in that section (and it’s for myself when I go to double check the count, LOL). I hope you guys enjoy these!! <3 Love you all, and happy reading :)

As always, read-more will appear on the third reblog. Sorry mobile, please don’t hate me :(

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@johnlockficclub APRIL NOMINATIONS (5)

A Beginner's Guide to Apiology. by VictoryCandescence (M, 10,952 w., 1 Ch. || Retirement AU || Friendship, Love, Bees & Beekeeping, Old Age, Dreamy Sexytimes, Angst, Soulmates, Grumpy Sherlock, Magical Realism) – John and Sherlock meet for the first time as old men in Sussex. (to read)

Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b (E, 20,004 w., 6 Ch. || Retirement, Sussex, Bees, Home Improvement, First Time, Romance) – Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing. They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you're living to find the life you want. Part 1 of Through The Clouds (“WINNER” fic)

The Winter Garden by Callie4180 (T, 31,213 w., 13 Ch. || Post-S4, Retirement, Christmas, Slow Burn, Grown-Up Rosie, Parenthood, Rosie’s Cat, Angst with Happy Ending, Holidays, Beekeeping, Magical Realism, Sherlock POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Future Fic, Sussex, Honey, Magical Healing Honey, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Scar, First Kiss, Touching, Mycroft is Dying) – As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing. Almost...magical.

Where Else Would I Be? by cwb (E, 34,910 w., 10 Ch. || Retirementlock, Domestic Fluff, Falling in Love, Parentlock, Fluff and Smut, Reminiscing) – John and Sherlock's five-year-old granddaughter spends the weekend with them in Sussex. Sherlock happily indulges her whims, and John takes care of them while quietly revisiting the past thirty years of their lives together.

Crimson Hymns by brilliantlyburning (E, 48,982 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S3/TAB, Angst,  Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction, Unhealthy Coping Methods, Demisexual Sherlock, Boxing, Pining, Sensory Processing Issues, Drug Use, First Kiss / Time, BDSM, Mary is Not Good, Parentlock, Proposal, Happy Ending, Beekeeping, Violence, References to Addiction, Poetry) – He laid his head over John’s heart, eyes level with his silver-rough scar, and listened to the crimson hymns beating beneath the surface. He imagined flowers blooming in his own chest: veins weaving intricate patterns on petals of thin muscle engorged with blood, sinew for stems and tendons for roots—the flowers would be poppies, maybe (addictive) or foxglove (deadly yet useful)—twining gleaming blood-red around the porcelain bone of his ribs. In his mind’s eye the gruesome bouquet all tied together on the left side of his chest, the stems bound together in heartstrings and the flowers fed by the rhythmic contraction of ventricles. It’s yours, he imagined saying to John—from the vena cava to the mitral valve to the arteries it is yours.— Or, the Love Song of W. Sherlock S. Holmes. (to read)

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Five Times John Watson Remained Oblivious (K+, 1,154 w., 1 Ch. || Five and Ones, Romance, Friendship, Asexual Sherlock, Queerplatonic Relationship) – ...And one time he didn't. asexual!Sherlock/John.

Linger by orphan_account (E, 4,879 w., 1 Ch. || Lingerie, Fluff and Smut, BJ / HJ, Switchlock, Sherlock in Lingerie, Come Play, Dirty Talk, Anal Fingering, Anal/Oral, Implied Shower Sex, Neck Kissing) – Sherlock decides to surprise John after a somewhat stressful day at work.

Given In Evidence by verityburns (M, 5,034 w., 19 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Angst, Drama, Case Fic, Romance, BAMF!John, Submissive Sherlock, First Kiss, Humour, Three Garridebs) – Coming back from the dead can be a complicated business. With a new case on the horizon, rebuilding a life is one thing... rebuilding a friendship quite another. For Sherlock and John, things may never be just the same...

Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w., 1 Ch. || Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock's perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

Fucking Cake by Random_Nexus (E, 12,965 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Humour/Crack, Inanimate Object Smut, Frottage, “For a Case” / “Experiment”, PWP / Kinky, Mutual Pining, Fluff) – Sherlock brings home a chocolate cake, John finds him about to have sex with said cake, then exceedingly weird hijinx ensue. Part 1 of "Fucking Baked Goods" - Sherlock BBC

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Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

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Roll Away Your Stone by foxxcub (E, 39,463 w., 1 Ch. || Downey Holmes || Boarding School AU) – Seventeen-year-old John Watson is set to finish his final year of school with a flourish, until the headmaster assigns John as a "tutor" to an arrogant, yet brilliant new student named Sherlock Holmes. Holmes is not about to be put in his place by this popular rugby football player with the too-blue eyes, and John isn't going to let this impulsive fifteen-year-old get away with anything. Neither expects to become friends, but a series of unexpected events and a possible murder mystery bring them closer together than either of them thought possible.

I Believe in Sherlock Holmes by Ranowa (T, 63,038 w., 10 Ch. || S3 Fix It, Hurt Sherlock, Implied/Referenced Torture, Homeless Network, Alcohol Abuse, No Mary, Bit-Not-Good/Angry John, Protective Mycroft, Angst with Happy Ending, Non-Linear Narrative, Major Character Injury, Recovery, Forgiveness, Sherlock’s a Mess) – John's been angry at Sherlock since the day he turned up wearing a fake mustache and a tuxedo. He's still angry, even as he moves back into 221B, and he never hesitates to let Sherlock know it.One day, Sherlock stops saying sorry, and walks out instead.One day, Sherlock wakes up handcuffed in the boot of a car, and John doesn't know, because John's been angry at him for so long he's forgotten that he's not the only one that's hurting.

I'm coming home, John. -SH Series by Ranowa (M, 67,247 w. across 3 works || Post-TRF, Angry John, Idiots in Love, No Mary, Drug Use/Substance Abuse, Emotional Rollercoaster, Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, PTSD Sherlock, Recovery, Sherlock’s Violin, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Asexual Sherlock) – In the two years after Sherlock throws himself off the roof of St. Bart's, crunches into the pavement below, and dies in John's arms, John starts texting.He doesn't know that his text messages are being read.

Roommates are for little people by alexxphoenix42 (E, 69,042 w., 14 Ch. || Teen/Unilock || Forced to Share a Bed, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Fake Relationship, Sherlock is a Prick, Drinking, Inadvertent Drug Use, Family Wedding, Footballer John / Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Frottage, Slow Burn, Mild Dub Con, Cuddling While Sleeping, Slight Homophobia, Posh Boy, Dirty Dancing, Endearments, Nosy FAmily, Bathing Together, Mild Angst, UST/RST, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff) – John was looking forward to seeing his friends back at uni, but a new year brings new complications, not the least of which is a dorm room with only one bed, and a stroppy roommate with an utterly spectacular arse. God, John doesn't need the headache.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Scheherezade by sgam76 (G, 197,576 w., 45 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF/Pre-TSo3, PTSD Sherlock, Implied/Referenced Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Humour, Protective John, Papa Lestrade, Big Brother Mycroft, BAMF John, BAMF Sherlock, Aftermath of Serbia, Past Child Abuse, Childhood Memories, Drunk Sherlock, Canon Compliant, Suicidal Thoughts / Attempt) – Sherlock is home, he and John are returning to cases, and all's right with the world--right? But a series of minor mishaps and injuries makes two things very clear to his friends and family: first, Sherlock's time away wasn't the grand adventure everyone has assumed it was; and second, that time has left Sherlock with a legacy that's bleeding into his life today. Sherlock is Not Okay, and it's not going away. Part 1 of the Scheherezade 'verse series

POSTED THIS YEAR [WiP’s & Full] (19)

A Bowl of Comfort (Store-Bought is Fine) by tepidspongebath (T, 763 w., 1 Ch. || Food, Comfort, Domesticity, Fluff) – “When did you last eat?” “What day is it?” “Oh, for god’s sake - you can’t keep skipping meals like this, Sherlock.” “It’s Lent.” “And since when do you care about Lent?” “Since you get chocolate eggs at Easter.” (to read)

End of the Curve by doctor_not_your_girlfriend (T, 833 w., 1 Ch. || COVID-19, One Shot, Medical Realism, Major Illness, Recovery, Optimism, Disability, Needles) – July, 2021. Mycroft has a special delivery for Sherlock. Inspired by Proving A Point by elldotsee, J_Baillier. (to read)

Love Is A Smoke by J_Baillier (T, 3,617 w., 4 Ch. || Heavy Angst, Pining, Romance, MCD) – It's spring in 2036. John and Sherlock are no longer together. Sherlock attempts to cope — or doesn't. (to read)

A Study in Beard by Loveismyrevolution (T, 3,810 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, Fluff and Humour, Experiments, Beards, Idiots in Love, Quarantine) – Sherlock has to face the consequences of using up all of their shaving foam. Which turns out to be more fun than expected. Boys being boys, nothing can go without a challenge. Although, being isolated presents a problem. How will they determine the winner? Part 2 of the Hairy Situations at 221B series (to read)

Isolated by CarmillaCarmine (G, 3,926, 3/4 Ch. || WiP || Quarantine From Virus, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Bi-Panic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Coming Out, Bathing/Washing, Bubble Bath, Kissing) – Due to an ongoing pandemic, John and Sherlock find themselves isolated at 221B. (to read)

Sherlock's Solution by PipMer (T, 4,125 w., 1 Ch, || Fluff, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Isolation/Quarantine, Pining, Miscommunication, First Kiss) – Sherlock and John are stuck in quarantine. Against all expectations, John is the one who goes stir-crazy first. Sherlock has a unique solution to the problem. (to read)

The Unexpected Threat by J_Baillier (T, 4,283 w., 1 Ch. || Military AU / Pacific Rim Fusion || Established Relationship, Medical Conditions, Coronaviruses, Doctor John, Bratty Sherlock, Romance, Science Fiction, Futuristic Medicine, Ghost Drifting AKA Telepathy, Medical Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Healing) – The kaiju are not the only threat to the security and well-being of the staff of PPDC's Chard's Rift base. It's the year 2050, and a coronavirus epidemic sweeping the planet has reached The Azores. Part 4 of the At The Edge of Our Hope (to read)

Quarantine by wendymarlowe (T, 6,444+ w., 20/? Ch. || WiP || COVID-19, Forced Isolation / Quarantine, John’s Blog, Humour) – John and Sherlock are stuck at 221B together due to coronavirus concerns. Sherlock slowly drives John barmy. (to read)

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5,798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) –  When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

Attentions, Experiments, Oddnesses by hubblegleeflower (E, 6,383 w., 1 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Experiments, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Kissing, First Time) – John is behaving oddly, and Sherlock hopes it means what he thinks it means, but he has several theories and could well be missing some of the facts. (to read)

Casualty by Silvergirl (E, 12,051 w., 4 Ch. || Canon Compliant Until T6T, Mary’s Dead, Trauma/Comfort, John’s a Good Friend, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss/Time, Sherlock Learns Teamwork, Parentlock) – Sherlock renders assistance at a hit-and-run and is left deeply shocked. When the accident turns into a case, John moves back in to 221b to help—and finds that Sherlock has way oversold his image as an emotionless thinking machine. (to read)

The Night Riviera from Paddington to Penzance and Back Again by  Iwantthatcoat (M, 12,918 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Hurt/Comfort Emotional Hurt/Comfort, BAMF John, Devil's Foot Adaptation, Hallucinations, Oral Sex) – Mrs Hudson has decided her boys need a little vacation together (after the events of S4) away from London and has booked them an inordinately (per Sherlock) long train ride from Paddington Station to Penzance. (to read)

A Gossamer Dream by CarmillaCarmine (E, 15,985 w., 4 Ch. || Writer/Teacher AU || First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Writer John / Teacher Sherlock, Fluff, London, Holding Hands, Online Friendship / Romance, Phone Sex, Anal Sex, Happy Ending) – Sherlock had never realised one could care so much about someone they'd never met in person. Now he is about to meet the friend with whom he's been chatting online for months and his anticipation is reaching a crescendo. (to read)

Contrition by sussexbound (E, 18,556+ w., 5/? Ch. || WiP || Post-S4/TFP Didn’t Happen, Rosie Doesn’t Exist, T6T/TLD is Canon, Year After TLD, Light BDSM, Soft Dom Sherlock / Sub John, Punishment, Light Bondage, Light Masochism / No Sadism, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Tenderness, Aftercare, Forgiveness, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Mutual Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Frottage, Communication, Sexual Negotiation, Sexual Tension, Spanking, Head Injury, Anal Sex) – “You’ve been tense ever since we got back, itching for a fight, all your usual tells, but why…?” The truth strikes like lightning. “Oh… Oh! You’re not angry at me. Not this time. Well—maybe a little. But mostly, mostly you’re angry at yourself. Why? For falling behind? For not being there in time. For not taking Wilkes down fast enough?” Sherlock waves a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t really matter.” He lifts a finger to his swollen cheek and cut eyebrow. “You blame yourself for this. And you offered to fix it. But I wouldn’t let you, and… But that’s not what you really want, anyway, is it?” John looks stunned, a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming lorry, frozen, waiting for the lethal strike. “You don’t want me to let you help. At least not right away. No. What you want, what you really want is—punishment.” (to read)

Feeling Seen by jadztone (E, 30,177 w., 9 Ch. || Ballet!Sherlock / Rugby!John, Demisexuality, Virgin John, Experienced Sherlock, Toplock, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Background Molly/Irene & Greg/Sally) – Rugby player John is starting over at a new university, with the help of friends Molly and Bill. Few people know that John is demisexual, but ballet dancer Sherlock Holmes deduces right away that he has no interest in sex unless he’s fallen in love. John finds this strange genius intriguing and would like to get to know him, but Sherlock has a self-cultivated reputation for only wanting casual sex. John has reason to believe that’s not really true, but he’s not sure he wants to risk his twice-fractured heart to find out. (to read)

Sanguineous Serendipity by CarmillaCarmine (E, 34,783 w., 14 Ch. || Vampire AU || Alternate First Meeting, Turning a Character, Vampire Sherlock, Captain John, POV John, Feeding, Blood Drinking, Crossdressing Sherlock, Genderfluid Character, Sherlock in Heels, Transphobic Behaviour, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Soulmates, Romance, Happy Ending) – Vampire Sherlock meets a dying John in a field hospital in Afghanistan and gives him a whole new life. (to read)

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Next Right: Welcome to Westbound Rest Area 818 by elwinglyre (E, 59,874+ w., 13/15 Ch. || WiP || American Unilock AU || Bunk Beds, Anonymous Sex, Homophobia, Closeted John, Roommates, Angst with Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Music, Rape/Non-Con, Hurt John, BAMF John) – Sherlock Holmes dreams of escape from his smothering family and space to breathe. Studying chemistry at the University of Michigan, he's almost far enough away to fill his lungs. Almost. While John Watson dreams of being a doctor, he also dreams of being with another man. John knows that with hard work and study, he can make the first a reality, but he's certain the second can never be. Until a secret encounter in the dark at Rest Area 818 changes everything. When Sherlock meets his new roommate, John Watson, he sees a man in the closet. Sherlock hides from no one. Except from his own family, a detective inspector who wants his evidence returned, and his secret encounter at Rest Area 818. Thank you to recently folded who lovingly beta’d chapters 1-5 and helped with an important plot point that deeply enriches this story. Also thank you to hotshoeagain for beta'ing the rest of the story.Setting late 1970s, Michigan, USA. POV third person alternates between John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. (to read)

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

ANYTHING GOES – JOHNLOCK (5)

Talk by illwick (E, 6,364 w., 1 Ch. || Dirty Talk, John’s Giant Junk, PWP, Light BDSM, Size Kink, Oral / Anal, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Rel.) – Sherlock was never much for dirty talk... until an unexpected visit yields unexpected results. Part 20 of Unwind

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

Pater Noster by SilentAuror (E, 34,256 w., 2 Ch. || Case Fic, HLV/S3 Fix It Fic, Family Trauma, Sherlock POV, Villain Mary) – During the autumn that John is staying at Baker Street again after Sherlock was shot, he ruminates over the similarity between Sherlock's shot and the one that killed his father when he was fifteen. Cold case meets series 3 fix-it. Part I takes place entirely within His Last Vow, Part II takes place starting at the end of HLV and continues after.

The Homecoming Series by sussexbound (M, 51,744 w. across 12 stories, WIP || Domestics, PTSD, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling, Jealousy, Family Issues) – Sometimes home is all you need. After three years of horror, betrayals, and crushing loss, John and Sherlock find their way back home to one another, and together find new footing in a world that has changed forever.

The Green Blade by verityburns (T, 72,929 w., 15 Ch. || Case Fic, Bromance) – As a serial killer hits the headlines, the police are out of their depth and the next victim is out of time. With faith in Sherlock Holmes at an all time low, this is a case which will push loyalties to the limit...

ANYTHING GOES – INEFFABLE HUSBANDS (5)

All Roads Lead To You by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel (T, 2,549 w., 2 Ch.|| Pining Crowley, Oblivious Aziraphale, Love Confessions, Feelings, Resolved Romantic Tension, Rescuing, Happy Ending, Snake Crowley, Magic Bracelets, POV Aziraphale) – It had taken Aziraphale quite some time to find the presence he had been looking for, but here he was, in the Reptile House of the London Zoo. As an angel, Aziraphale shouldn’t have been finding amusement in the discomfort of another, but he couldn’t help but do so as he was glared at by a very familiar snake. “Oh my dear,” Aziraphale murmured, “how ever did you end up in this situation?”

The slowest moving object in the universe by chamyl (G, 4,996 w., 1 Ch. || God POV, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Beach Day, Games, Light Humour, Tenderness, Embarassed Crowley, Soft Idiots, First Kiss, Love Confessions) – Crowley and Aziraphale have had feelings for each other for a very long time. It takes a date at the lake and a round of 36 Questions That Lead To Love to give them the final push.

Wings and How to Hide Them by triedunture (M, 10,134 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, First Time, Love Confessions, Body Swap, Wing Kink, Idiots In Love) – Crowley's been annoyingly in love for six thousand years. What's another lifetime between friends? Or: Aziraphale definitely fucks and isn't that just perfect?

Souls In Creation by Dragonfruit112 (NR [M], 23,110 w., 6 Ch. || Aziraphale was Raphael, Hurt/Comfort, Angst With Happy Ending, True Angel Forms, Memory Loss/Amnesia, Seraph!Aziraphale, Cherub!Crowley, Moments of Time, Pining Aziraphale, Deaths, Disasters Through History, Whump, Taking Care of Each Other, Friendship, Mates to Friends to Mates, Bed Sharing, Sick Crowley, Healing Powers, BAMF Aziraphale) – They knew each other before the Fall. They loved each other before the Fall. They were creation's first soul mates. But the Fall changed everything, and now Aziraphale is forced to live in a world where only he remembers their shared past. Burdened by pain and grief, he hides himself under the guise of a clumsy Principality until he can make his love remember once more. Only, he doesn't know how long that'll take.

Any Way You Want It by LieutenantLiv (M, 27,585 w., 5 Ch. || Holidays, Slow Burn, Fluff, First Time, Eventual Smut, Swimming, Dreams of Dancing, Kissing in the Rain, Self-Esteem Issues, Misunderstandings, Crying Love Confessions, Soft Crowley, Clingy Crowley, Virgin Aziraphale, Romance) – Saving the world is exhausting work. With Heaven and Hell off their backs, it seems as good a time as any for Crowley and Aziraphale to take a proper break. Neither one of them predicts the direction their holiday takes.Who'd have thought that sharing a cottage in Scotland would be quite so romantic?

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas: Puppydog Tails

Also on AO3!

TL;DR: 

Izuku manifests his quirk, and watches his old life burn in front of him in a matter of months. Scared the villains that killed his mother will come after him, he uses his shape-shifting quirk to hide in plain sight as Katsuki's dog. They keep each other safe and sane throughout the years, a duo people become uses to seeing as they jog down the sidewalk each morning.

Izuku doesn't just use his quirk to help Katuski. His heroic spirit can't be crushed so easily. In his wanderings, he meets and helps countless people, from heroes to Katsuki's future classmates.

Let's just say Katsuki's first day of school is a wild one.

basically, izuku is a shapeshifter, but can only change into different mammals. he needs to know their internal organ structure perfectly or he's in trouble too.

he manifests his quirk and quickly goes about learning some common but practical animals like a small cat, greyhound, mouse, bat and rabbit

he and bakugo are friends

his good times dont last long though, his mother is killed for a connection to a villain she didnt know she had (probably dad for one) and the villain group is after izuku as well

they don't know his quirk, he honestly hadn't gotten it registered yet

inko tells izuku to run, hide and be safe, right before shes practically cremated where she stands by a powerful fire quirk. izuku runs, shifts into a small dog and goes the only place he can think: the park he and bakugo play in

now, mitsuki is frantic bc inko's house is on fire and they can't find inko or izuku

katsuki doesn't know whats happening though, and she sends him off to the park in case they start pulling bodies out of the building. katsuki is happy to go, asks if he can bring izuku. mitsuki says izukuis busy

katsuki goes to the park and hears a soft whining sound, he finds izuku, hidden behind a tree, smelling like ash

izuku shifts back to a human and explains that villains hurt his mama and they want to hurt him too

katsuki, crying, tells him to change back into a dog. he'll keep him safe from the villains. izuku agrees, only if he can look after katsuki in turn.

they don't tell mitsuki. izuku is worried she'll get hurt, and part of his is also worried she knew about the villains and said nothing.

Katsuki and dog!izuku run back to the house, only finding charred bones where his mother had been

they both sob

mitsuki finds her son, sobbing as he clutches a tiny dog to his chest, seeing a sight so horrific she herself wants to throw up. when he asks if they can keep the puppy later that night, it's not even a question in her mind. of course they can. Anything to keep that broken expression off her son’s face.

katsuki changes after that. his best friend and friends mother apparently dead, he gets angry, but he's scared to go out where there are lots of people. he's scared of the villains that killed izuku's mum, scared they'll hurt them like they hurt inko

he goes to therapy. they quickly work out the dog is helping him cope, so izuku is trained as a therapy dog. he does astoundingly well, unsurprisingly.

katsuki ends up bullied for his service dog, but the amount they help each other is enough for him to be willing to put up and shut up

the only time he ever explodes is when someone hurts his dog, 'deku' and it's not like izuku sits idly by while katsuki gets hurt either

anyway, izuku likes to wander, whenever katsuki doesn't have school or is feeling particularly good, he'll go on an adventure, normally as a different animal

every animal he shifts into is green, so katsuki sometimes sees him when he's out and smiles

izuku's heroic spirit is undying, even as an animal, which kinda leads to him sticking his nose where it doesn't belong and helping out kids he thinks need the help.

he hears shouting and crying from the foster home down the road, sees a child muzzled

he goes hero watching as a kitten, sees the small child standing too stoic on the front lines as endeavour fights. he follows him home, whistling songs to the kid when he cries, perching on his shoulder when he sees him

ochako remembers the fluffy puppy with its massive paws showing up at her door when the power went out during winter, keeping her warm with its curly green-black fur

aizawa knows of the kitten that ages too slowly and keeps bringing troubled children to him

iida remembers the rabbit that used to race him on the tracks. without his quirk its was honestly a challenge

kirishima knows about a dark colour fawn that would always come over to him when he was upset and let him bury his face in its fur and cry

mina remembers the little green bat that nested in her hair and clumsily copied her as she danced, its colour making her feel better about her own

Tsuyu would often see a little green and black tanuki when she’d take her siblings out. It always kept them safe and out of danger and never failed to make her smile on a bad day.

he earns shinsou's trust as a too-small kitten, along with aizawa's (just out of school, learning to be an underground hero) , until he can drag aizawa to the house during the shouting. shinsou gets out, aizawa gains a son

shouto's best memories from his childhood are of the little cat that always showed up when he felt his worst, who purred like an engine in his arms and was never afraid of him

he also remembers seeing it the day he dyes his hair. its licks his nose

Even heroes know about the little green dog that watches from the sidelines. They’ve seen it drag civilians from danger, look for people in buried rubble and comfort crying children. It doesn’t often approach them, but it tends to do a little happy dance if they pet it, wagging its tail 1000 miles an hour if a hero so much as looks at it.

They call it little green, seeing him basically becomes a good luck charm. Even All Might feels a little better when he sees the little dog catching from the crowd, knowing it’ll keep some too-brave civilians safe from attacks and falling rubble.

When Katsuki applies for UA, his class doesn’t cheer him on. They whisper about the kid so angry, unstable and scared he brings a puppy to class. Izuku leans against Katsuki’s leg in support, unable to do anything for his friend. The teacher pays it no mind.

He’s told not to apply. He’s not normal or sane enough to be any help to anyone, they say. Katsuki flips them off and puts UA in all three slots on his form.

He takes Izuku with him on the day of the entrance exam. He tells himself it’s so Izuku can see the school at least once, if he doesn’t get in. Deep down he knows it’s because he’s scared and doesn’t want to be alone. Izuku doesn’t mind either way, he’s just excited to cheer on his best friend and get to look at some heroes.

He does leave Izuku with the teachers. He can take care of himself, but the idea of dragging him into a situation where he might accidentally burn his only friend? It makes him feel sick. Izuku understands. He’d do anything for Katsuki, but he was still scared to enter the exam location. He never did get over his fear of fire.

Izuku ends up in the monitor room. The teachers are trying not to coo over the too smart, too nice puppy. It’s All Might that recognises him.

“Is that, is that little green? The dog who always shows up at hero fights?”

Nemuri is ecstatic

“It totally is! I love that little guy! Hey little cutie, did you know you were famous? All the heroes around here love you!”

Aizawa, Nezu and Present Mic all separately notice that the dog honestly… he honestly looks flustered. Excited, yes, but almost sheepish. Aizawa draws some internal connections to the green and overly brave ‘stray’ kitten he’s seen his whole career. Nezu looks at the fur colour and thinks “quirked, like me. But was he always an animal?”. Present Mic sees the humanity in those eyes.

All three of them say nothing, filling the information away for later.

Katsuki ends up in the arena with Iida and Uraraka. He recognises both of them from Izuku’s whisper descriptions in the rare moments he let himself slip into human form.

Tall, broad, clearly the younger brother of Ingenium; that’s the stiff boy Izuku raced as a rabbit, trying to get him to loosen up and connect with those around him.

Round-faced, bright cheeks, fierce eyes and a body a little too thin from too many hungry nights? That’s the girl Izuku looked for when it got too cold, just to make sure he heating was working. She’d moved away from home, apparently. Izuku had found her new house and gave it a once over – if he figured it was safe, Katsuki would believe him. Izuku was the most paranoid person he’d ever met.

He almost went to say something. But Iida’s stern glare curdled his nerves. He shot back a snarl and focused on getting ready.

Back in the viewing room, Nemuri and Yagi are not so subtly fighting over Izuku. They are both trying to call him over, offer little bits of food, give him a good pat. It’s a little funny for Aizawa to watch as the poor pup ties himself in knots trying to please the both of them. He notes vaguely that he doesn’t take the food bribes from either of them.

Yagi is winning slightly, on virtue of being All Might, but Nemuri is not above begging a dog. It works shockingly well, with Izuku not wanting to upset a hero. She sends smug look’s All Might’s way as she triumphantly pats Izuku.

Mic yells start, the student's flood into the arena. Katsuki makes short work of the robots, racking up a score of 50 in almost record time. The teachers watch as ‘Deku’ clearly tracks his charge across the screen, whining softly when he pushes himself a little too far or gets a little too close to the robots.

Then the zero pointer is released and all hell breaks loose.

Katsuki sees Uraraka, trapped. He can’t leave her; not one of Izuku’s people. He’d never forgive himself for letting someone important to Izuku get hurt ever again.

He doesn’t realise Izuku couldn’t stand seeing him hurt, either.

He blasts the rubble apart, shielding Uraraka with his body, preventing her from being hailed with slivers of rubble. Uraraka sees not another student, but a hero, saving her when she thought she might die, selflessly giving up time to save someone he didn’t know. She vows to make it up to him, somehow.

It’s not enough, the robot looms too close. Bracing himself as best he can, Katsuki lets out the largest explosion he can muster, uncaring of the damage it may do to his wrists. If he gets crushed, his wrists hardly matter, do they?

The robot shakes, then topples backwards, overbalanced by the blast. Katsuki drops to his knees, both wrists dislocated. He’s hissing swears under his breath.

Uraraka sees a lump of rock flying to him as he sits there, prone from the attack that saved her life. She leaps towards it, leaving it weightless before it can hit him. The action leaves her hand red raw from the force of the rock.

Time is called. They both collapse.

Izuku is off of the door the second the explosion sounds. It’s so big it rattles the monitors in their room. Nemuri tries to stop him, reaching for his collar, but his collar doesn’t fit a mouse. He shifts into the smaller form, scampering out the door upon where he shifts into a greyhound.

He takes off full tilt towards his friend's exam arena. He's panicked and scared – the flash of fire and the pained look in Katsuki’s eyes have totally fried his nerves.

The doors aren’t open yet. He doesn’t care, shifting into a bat until he can clear them, diving down as fast as he can. He shifts again into a greyhound, racing though the robots – broken and sparking.

He sees Katsuki, jaw grit tightly as he fights back tears of pain, and Izuku lets out a pathetic whine, running full tilt towards his best friend, before lingering nervously in front of him, unwilling to touch him lest he hurt him.

“Oh get over here, Deku.” There are tears in Katsuki’s eyes still, but he’s smiling softly. Izuku shifts once more, into the softest dog he can, pressing against his friend as his tail wags like mad.

Present Mic calls time. If he was a solid 30 seconds late as he tried to process the whirlwind of chaos that little,,, dog? Left, well no one was going to notice. Other than Nezu, obviously, but the maybe-rat seemed just a confused as him.

Uraraka turns to her hero, only to see the little dog that would warm her on cold nights. She turns to him, wide-eyed. Izuku sticks his head over Katsuki’s shoulder, making happy yips at her.

Iida stumbles over, confused as to how a dog got in, confuses as to how he clearly saw it change between two distinct dog breeds in its quest to reach the prickly boy he’d seen at the entrance, who had just seriously injured himself to save a stranger.

The dog looks at him, then perks up. It gives a quick snuggle into its owner's hair before trotting over to him. It wags its tail. Iida looks on, confused.

Before his eyes, he watches the dog shift into what is unmistakably the rabbit he remembers from his earlier childhood, the one that would race him around tracks until it’s little legs couldn’t race anymore and would bound over to him as happily was a rabbit could.

He stares.

Katsuki watches this and laughs.

“I see you’ve both met Deku.”

[blakescoven]

You Decided That I Was Worth Saving | 1 |

Pairing: Sojourn!Michael Langdon x fem!Reader

Chapter One (1): “As I Lay Dying”

Summary: You were driving home from work, when something – or rather someone – literally got in the way.  Against any reason, you let him into your life. Michael would make you question your entire worldview. Were your paths meant to cross? Did you two meet by accident? By fate? Or there’s an evil force behind it, scheming and plotting with a devilish purpose?  

Warnings: car crash(!), mention of injuries, different POVs, some swearing

Word count: 4.7K

A/N: Hey lovely friends! Here’s a sort of Sojourn AU-ish, since the plot starts in that particular moment of Michael’s life. Still don’t know if I’ll include witches and satanists…we’ll see. It’s gonna be a series so I guess I’ll divide it into a few chapters. I loooove angst and slow burn, so I’m sorry but there’s no smut. Yet. Also, for this chapter, I took inspiration from: the scene of Elena’s car crash from 1x11 of TVD and a song, my fav of all times, that I listened to while I was writing this chapter and that is also the song playing in Y/N’s car; Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex. Okay, that’s it. Enjoy and thank you so much for reading it, despite the grammar mistakes (my apologies) and the fact that probably it really sucks. (‘WHAT AM I DOING?’ was the mood while I was writing it tho.) Anyway, love you and please, let me know what do you think and what I can improve!! I’d really appreciate any FEEDBACK!! I kinda need it, because I’m not sure I’m doing this right. THANK YOU xxx ♥  

You've always thought you could describe your whole existence with a wide range of adjectives, but 'adventurous' wasn't one of them for sure. At least, that's what you thought 30 minutes before the event that would have changed your life forever. Nothing would ever be the same again; just like a hurricane comes and goes, so that day, and the following ones, would have drastically rocked your world. And mostly your beliefs.

It was late. But you were used to it. You had recently got a new job, which allowed you to move out and finally get your own place, the smallest rentable apartment on Earth. Or in Los Angeles, no doubt. This was the most stressful moment since you were born, it was up to you taking care of your own now. Mommy and daddy no more.

Shifts were endless and you often found yourself staying late at the office, to finish what you've started. This new routine was already messing with your biological clock. Every single night, you looked forward to going back home, eat and fall apart on your bed. Even today, you were already savoring the anticipation of your sadly-glorious homecoming; you were dying for a relaxing hot bath and a slice of pizza. But who are we kidding, right? A whole pizza. Then, sleepiness permitting, you would have watched your favorite TV show petting your cat. A real party girl, uh? Well, that was your life now.

You have just finished college and this was the first experience as an independent person. At the very beginning, it has been hard leaving your parents' house, but soon you realized it was time for you to go on your own way. You were so full of dreams and expectations. You hoped to achieve great goals. Of course, what you haven't taken into account was that your future weekends wouldn't have been under the banner of fun, alcohol, and friends. But instead, your crazy Saturday nights consisted of you kneeled in front of the washing machine, hands in your head and a YouTube DIY video for dummies playing on your phone, which explained all the ways to get the laundry started and what products must have been used. All your life has become a huge dumb Netflix comedy. More like a parody, perhaps. You hung out with your friends less and less; you felt deeply guilty about that, but you were way too tired to make up for it.

As mentioned before, it was a late Friday night. It was raining, pretty hard. You were driving your beloved brand-new car (THE much-demanded graduation gift) and 'surprisingly' you hit traffic. At 9 fucking p.m. TGIF, they said. Sure. Your friends were definitely having fun and drinking in some random club by then.

You, on the contrary, were running out of patience; your shiny Lexus had not moved an inch in 10 minutes, so as soon as you could, you took a highway exit. That was supposed to be a kind of shortcut, according to the navigator. The pouring rain and the cadenced motion of the windscreen wipers sounded like a lullaby. A slow-core song started playing in the background. It was quite soothing and maybe, on second thought, you should have to turn it off…or had coffee before leaving.

You could feel your eyelids getting heavier and heavier, the exhaustion slowly prevailing. Trying so hard to keep your eyes open, that they've started burning; and not to miss anything, you got a bit of a headache accompanied by a soon-to-be-wrinkle frown.

Meanwhile, you were driving down a deserted one-lane road, going a little over the speed limit in your rush, in order to make it home as soon as possible. The wheels were slipping a little on the wet pavement, but you kept the car steady. ­ You peered through the front window trying to see what was ahead of you; it was pitch black outside, with not even one dammit lamppost; only the moon's pale light absorbed by the dark green leaves of the forest beside the road. You had no idea where you actually were.

Suddenly, the annoying metallic voice of the GPS started bullshitting about recalculating a new route. "Wait what? Fuck NO NO NO…come on! You stupid thing, why are you changing direction???" you maddeningly screamed, looking at the display and trying to change the settings with your right hand. You weren't exactly paying particular attention to the road ahead. Huge mistake.

Outside the windshield, the rain was coming down in torrents, blurring your vision even more. The wipers went back and forth, attempting to clear away the large droplets clinging to the glass, but it seemed they weren't moving fast enough.

As if the universe had something big in store for you, right at that moment, something – or rather someone – came out of the dense vegetation, slowly limping while crossing the street, no concern for surroundings.

Your eyes were still glued to the GPS tracking your position; but all of a sudden, your distraction was abruptly erased when you caught a glimpse of a human shape in the middle of the road, illuminated by the car's headlights.

A goddamn person.

You had perhaps three-quarters of a second to register this.

You didn't realize it until it was too late. You couldn't have stopped all this now. The blood drained from your face. It all happened in a few seconds, but the moment seemed to last forever. The shock made you tense your muscles; your heart skipped a beat and your eyes suddenly widened. There was a scream coming from within that forced its way from your mouth as if your terrified soul has set a demon free. It was the kind of scream that makes the blood run cold.

With adrenaline flowing through your system, you slammed on the brakes. Your fists clenched with white knuckles around the steering wheel, immediately swerving to avoid the crash. Somehow you managed to not run over him, but you were going too fast to stop.

Your car rolled over and over, while clips of your life flashing like a slideshow. The vehicle has flipped so many times that you started drifting in and out of consciousness. The noise of the metal being bashed over the asphalt was deafening. When it finally stopped, you were stuck in your seat upside-down, coughing up pieces of the broken glass coming from the shattered windshield.

Then everything became still.

You could only hear the sound of rain on metal. Aware of the bloody taste in your mouth, you still weren't able to figure out if you were injured, because the seatbelt tugged on your chest was too painful. Heart pounding in your ears, you tried to scream for help, but it came out more like a gasp.

Meanwhile, the young man was still paralyzed to the spot in the middle of the road, like an unfamiliar force was holding him in a tightening grip, keeping him from leaving. For a moment he believed that that must have been another hallucinated vision. Then he slowly turned his head toward the wrecked car. An odd thought came across his mind: the driver crashed in order to not run over him. But why? Humanity had failed him so many times. He had lost the only one that truly cared about him. His Father had abandoned him and he wasn't able to understand what was his purpose, not anymore. He actually knew that a car was coming that way, but now he honestly didn't give a damn about his life. He had failed. He was utterly lost. This was the best coincidence possible to put an end to his suffering. But now, he felt something he couldn't explain, almost a need, the need to go and check if the driver was okay. Still confused about this new foreign impulse, he started to walk towards your car.

Once there, he kneeled and took a look inside, from the broken side window.

"You look stuck." he commented with an apparent childish but plain voice.

If you weren't, like literally, in that position, you'd have certainly sassed back to that dumb obvious statement. But your conditions weren't the best at all, you might have some broken bones, actually.

What, instead, came out from your mouth was stammering confused words.

"I-I-It… m-my… my s-s-sea..b-be..t" you tried to speak, holding and shaking the restraining belt tightly in your hands, while tears gathering in your eyes.

He hummed and shushed you. "Let me get you out of here." he whispered, thinking again about why he was actually doing this, it was none of his business. And yet, he stayed on.

"I want you to put your hands on the roof." You were about to obey his calming demand, but in that moment, you realized your left arm had to be broken and it hurt like hell. So somehow you managed to raise only the other one and take also your phone.

Then he closed his eyes for a couple of seconds and all of a sudden, the seatbelt mysteriously unhooked, as if by magic or an invisible force. But you were too rattled to think about it.

You fell and he gently grabbed and lifted you from the car.

"I got you." he smiled, holding you in his arms while standing up. "Are you okay? Can you stand? Is anything broken?" he questioned with a caring honeyed tone.

You nodded pointing your arm and moaning, still dizzy from the car flipping over. The stranger carefully set you on your feet, yet not letting you completely. Good, because immediately after you slipped, too weak to stand, but he caught you by the waist. Your head was spinning so fast.

"Hey hey, easy, don't force yourself, you're clearly not okay." he observed "Look at me." and he placed his thumb on your lower lip and chin to hold your head steady as he spoke. What was he feeling right now? Pity? Concern maybe? He thought he had already turned off those pointless human emotions.

You tiredly opened your eyes to meet the most beautiful pair of ocean eyes you've ever seen. Unfortunately, you couldn't focus on him any longer, neither when he run his hand down your water-stained cheek.

"Hey stay with me, don't close your eyes." he urged, just as your vision went fuzzy and your eyes rolled back. Within seconds everything went black.

You passed out into complete and utter darkness.

He caught you before you hit the concrete, gathering your limp body into his arms and walking away from the car. He abruptly stopped. What he was supposed to do now? He had literally come from the woods, after days of fasting and sleeplessness. He was covered in damn dirt. Not to mention that he had no place to go. He was too exhausted to reason. So he chose to gently lower you to the ground, kneeling, so half of your body was on his lap. He stroked your wet hair, wondering what to do with you. Just right now, looking at your face, he noticed how beautiful you were, how innocent and angelic. He swallowed and smiled. A soft side? In his evil and corrupted soul? Impossible.

It was still raining. You were both soaked and there was no shelter in the proximities. He thought he couldn't do anything more. That's when he remembered about your broken arm. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, placing his hands above your head. Nothing. Maybe he wasn't focused enough. He took your hands in his own and tried again. This time his eyes rolled black until they showed only a white surface; then he started to mutter Latin words. He lifted his head up speaking louder, but his nose began to bleed, until his vision blurred and the car suddenly exploded. He lost consciousness right next to you, nevertheless his hand still on yours.

The next thing you knew, you were on your back on the ground and very disoriented. Also completely drenched. Making indistinguishable noises because of the pain, you turned your head resting on the asphalt. The rain in your eyes didn't let you have a clear view of the surroundings, but you immediately felt an extremely warm presence at your side. You blinked twice and finally saw the boy that had helped you, laying there unconscious. Hell, maybe you had hit him with your car after all. The plot thickens.

Saying that you were confused about the whole situation was an euphemism. There was nothing for it but to try to reach your phone, almost five feet apart from your leg, hoping that it didn't break in the crash. Despite the acute ache in your arm and the burning cuts and wounds, you were able to crawl back to it, so you dialed the number and called 911. You explained everything and asked for help with a wisp of voice. You probably had a concussion.

The rain eventually stopped. You were starting to feel cold, so you found your way back to the stranger. Little droplets of water drenched his hair, covering his features, and you couldn't help yourself, you brushed a few strands from his face, caressing his sharp cheekbone. Right after your head started spinning and your vision filled with white spots, until you fainted again, against the stranger's chest.

-

You woke up in a hospital bed. It was early in the morning; the sunlight was peeking through the blinds, the constant beeping of monitors echoing throughout the room. You sighed loudly and squinted with a grimace. Luckily you were just a little sore, nothing too serious. You took a look at your arm: you had a pretty unaesthetic cast. The universe's way of telling you, "Here, take this you little bitch." Amazing.

You got up very slowly and entered the bathroom, looking for a mirror to better check out your wounds.

"Wow, nice Halloween make-up though." you muttered rolling your eyes. You had a stitched cut on your left upper forehead, a split lip and dark circles under your puffy eyes. A Miss Universe at her peak. Not to mention a great number of bruises all over your body.

You called your parents shortly afterward. Downplaying the details of the accident wasn't enough, they completely lost their minds at the phone. They were shocked and worried about your conditions, so they insisted to get on the first flight to LA, to help you. You reassured them you were fine and ready to go home. It wasn't necessary for them to come. They even offered to pay for a new car, since yours was, sadly, destroyed. You refused though; you would have dealt with the car-issue later. Even though you couldn't still get over the fact that your precious SUV has gone for good.

A truly kind doctor got to your room and, after having checked out vitals and injuries, refreshed your memory about what happened last night. Shoot! In that moment you realized you had totally forgot about the boy. You immediately asked the doc if you could go visit him. He nodded but not without first warning you. John Doe here had to be sedated because, when he regained consciousness in the ambulance, he had refused to go to the hospital and started thrashing around. Luckily, he was too weak to harm anyone.

The doctor kept saying that they had found no ID, nothing that could tell them where he came from. He was completely dehydrated in addition to previous wounds. He probably hadn't eaten for days either. For these reasons, the cheap version of Derek Shepherd wasn't sure whether he should call the police.

You were listening to his words with much more concern you thought you could feel. Well, maybe because you had almost run over him. But you felt you had to go check on him. He helped you out of the car after all. He…saved you someway? What you couldn't understand was why he had stopped in the middle of the road; he hadn't even tried to get out of the way…Oh shit. Was there any chance he wanted to, like, get killed? No, c'mon, there are way too many other – and less-painful – "methods" to do it…It couldn't be.

When you arrived in his room, you immediately noticed he was tied to the bed and carefully, you set his wrists free. After a few seconds, he woke up. You tried not to pay attention, but he was undoubtedly attractive. To be honest he was much more than that. Handsome to say the least. He seemed almost angelic. Baby blue eyes piercing your soul with a magnetic gaze, golden messy curls spread around his head on the pillow like a halo and God-given sharp features. Despite that, he was still covered in filth and wounds. But even in such a miserable state, he was hypnotizing. You wondered why no nurse took care of him yet.

"Hi!" you whispered, sitting down on the nearest chair.

"Hi." he said back, almost imperceptibly. "Thank you" he added, pointing at his bruised wrists.

"I should be the one saying 'thank you'..." you stated; he gave you a half-smile, "…you literally saved my life."

"No need to thank me, I caused your crash so.." he stopped for a second "…we can say you saved me instead." he admitted heavy-heartedly, with his eyes down. He seemed so sad and so lost, and you really felt for him.

"Well, thank God we're both still alive!" you didn't know what to say anymore. And this cringy comment wasn't helping.

" Sure " he scoffed.

What were those, tear-stains? Has he been crying?

Then an awkward silence filled the room. You were starting to feel a bit uneasy, and the continuous biting your lower lip – despite the cut on the upper one – made it absolutely obvious. You could feel something was off about him. The sadness and despair in his eyes were pretty noticeable, and you were the kind of person that can't look away.

"Uhm, are you okay?"

"Yes" he was still staring at the void. No emotion showed.

"Sorry, I don't want to be pushy…but it's clear you're not."

"Why do you care? What do you want from me?" he snapped turning his head, but his face softened instantly, as if he regretted the outburst.

You honestly didn't know why you cared that much either. It was an odd sensation coming from your guts, it was pulling you so deeply into him. He needed help, and you wanted to give it to him.

"You got anybody I could call? Your relatives or a friend?" was the only answer you could articulate.

" No.. " he mumbled, "..I have no one."

Suddenly, you felt the urge to ask him if he wanted to go home with you, to recover. You would have never done – or even thought – anything like that before. This was against all the good bits of advice your mum ever gave you. Like, don't invite in strangers that could easily kill you in your sleep?! But it was as if, deep down, you knew you could trust him. You took the risk.

"Listen.. ahem.. y-you could come home with me. I have enough space in my apartment and we could help each other until you'll feel better" you paused.

He was staring at you now, with glistening eyes. He was speechless. No one has ever shown him selfless kindness. He was in disbelief.

"I don't want your pity."

"No, wait. This isn't pity. In case you haven't notice, I have this lil problem here" you chuckled, swaying your cast in the air "I wouldn't mind a hand" you said to release the tension.

"I-I can't. Please, go. Just leave me alone." he shook his head. The fear of being abandoned or rejected again was too overwhelming for him to open up and accept some help.

"Oh," you whispered, a bit down in the dumps, "got it."

You headed for the door, but before leaving, you turned one more time "I'll leave my number to the receptionist in the hallway, in case you change your mind." you winked and smiled, leaving him alone.

He sighed and slammed his head against the pillow; he didn't even have a phone, also because, come on, what good it would do? But above all, what kind of paradox was that? Him, the motherfucking Devil's spawn, needing help? From an innocent little soul like you? No kidding. He had performed a human sacrifice and eaten raw hearts for fuck's sake. Yes, he may not know what to do, and probably he had made mistakes, but it wasn't over yet; his satanic plan needed to be adjusted. This way, he would eventually recreate the world in his Father's image and earn his trust again.

He needed to leave as soon as possible, before some stupid human being started asking him though questions.

-

You were finally home. The entire Uber ride had been silent and for that you mentally thanked the driver, because you weren't in the mood to talk at all.

As soon as you turned the doorknob, your little friend immediately greeted you purring, making you jump. He really missed you…or at least that's what he wanted you to believe. You locked the door behind you.

"His Majesty is hungry, uh?!" you said mocking your furball "Yeah, me too dude...but hold on a little longer, I need to take a shower I smell like hospital, jeez."

Only now you noticed. There was a rather unusual atmosphere when you walked in, an unsettling silence sending shivers down your spine. An inexplicable heat radiating from the house itself. It was too hot in there and you're positive it wasn't normal in the middle of November. The room seemed saturated with unfamiliar vibes.

You went to your bedroom and started to undress. Then you entered the bathroom, ready to finally wash the last night events off you.

Odd. It was like you could feel eyes on you, all the time.

Whatever. You were too worn-out to indulge your paranoid thoughts.

But the same feelings still followed you, even later when you were eating your delivered dinner, half-dead on the couch with the fluffy monster curled up on your lap.

"Maybe it's a sort of twisted PTSD." you told yourself. Yet your heart wouldn't settle. Something wasn't right there.

Anyway, you chose to ignore your instinct; it was time to get ready for bed. You reached your closet as you slowly took off hoodie and sweatpants, changing into even more comfortable clothes, just a t-shirt actually. Since it was that hot, no pants. The loose garment barely covered your bare thighs though.

You were half asleep when your cat jumped up and suddenly rushed out of your bedroom like he was possessed. You stretched and changed position, that enormous cast wouldn't let you fall fully asleep. After 5 minutes of turning and tossing you heard what sounded like footsteps. Your pulse started racing.

"It's nothing," you told yourself, "I'm imagining things."

But then the typical creaking of your fridge being opened reached up to your room. Twice.

You froze, heart in your throat. You were most definitely not alone. Someone was in the house.

But right after you shook your head, "Ugh, probably it's just that furry devil."

Being as quiet as possible, you got up and made your way to the door, straining to hear, but your heart pounded too loudly and your breathing was harsh. Moving towards the switch, but on second thought you decided against it.

Nothing. Complete silence.

It was when you were finding your way back to the mattress that you heard a white noise, a loud thud and the clear scraping of a chair against the floor. You froze again with wide eyes. You swallowed breaking out in cold sweat.

The squeaking of the cupboard followed by the tinkling and banging of glasses and dishes. You almost had a stroke.

You internally cursed yourself. You had left your phone on the couch. Fuck fuck fuck. The only option left was trying to reach the door and ask for help from the next-door neighbor. But you couldn't do it, the kitchen had a space divider, but it wasn't long enough to avoid being seen.

Weapon, your mind screamed. You needed a weapon.

A relieved smile appeared unexpectedly on your features. You recalled about keeping a knife hidden in the drawer. 'Never say never' when you live alone. Well, it seemed it had been a good idea after all.

You slid your fingers around the rubber grip, dismayed by how much your hand was shaking.

Heading down the hallway barefoot, you hold your breath and slowly approached the living room. With one motion you sneaked into the kitchen, with the blade facing the intruder, and screaming,

"I'm calling the police!"

But what you saw made your jaw drop in shock.

It was Him, the guy from the car crash.

In your kitchen.

Eating your motherfucking chocolate chip cookies.

At 01:00 am.

"Uh, sorry..." he spoke while chewing the leftovers and then swallowing loudly, "..you wanted some?". As if he felt guilty for real, with that childish expression.

You couldn't keep quiet any longer. The situation was too far-fetched.

"WHAT THE HELL?" you snapped. He chuckled at the reference.

"I can't cook. I was starving and I found these. I didn't want to wake you, but this monster here won't get off me..."

"What are you doing in my apartment?"

He tilted his head, pretty confused. "You invited me to stay here..." he remarked, with a hint of displeasure in his voice.

"Yes, I did. But it doesn't mean you can break in without me knowing." You were still a bit scared; he could be dangerous as far as you knew, and his actions had already proved it.

He didn't say anything. He stood up from the island counter, making his way to you. You were slack-jawed in astonishment, still holding and pointing the sharp surface toward him.

"Put that knife down."

"No."

"Why?" he frowned.

"I don't trust you. Don't come any closer!" you ordered.

"I can't take you seriously looking like this" he smirked pointing at your 'night attire'.

He took another step and you run to reach the handle; it turned but the door wouldn't budge.

"It's locked." you turned to look at him "Don't you remember? You did that yourself." he observed, like it was obvious.

"Then how did you get in here?"

"Transmutation."

"Tra-what?" you supposed he must have been out of his mind.

The circumstances themselves were unbelievable. But he was right, you offered him help.

Now he was leaning against the wall a few feet apart from you, locking his eyes with yours, his beautiful features veiled by a shade of dejection and misery. Suddenly, the feeling you had at the hospital came back. Trust.

"I know I'll regret this, but yes, you can stay."

A thankful smile crept across his face and if it weren't for the dark, you could swear that he was also crying.

"But if you don't behave I'll kill you." you threatened in a playful tone, but you needed to scare him a little.

In that moment he understood that he had done the right thing, deciding to take your offer. He had to pick up the pieces and get back on his feet. He couldn't have done it alone.

And mostly, he liked you. You were a warrior. There was something special in you, he could feel it. He could trust you.

"You scared the hell out of me by the way…do not do that again." you spoke as your eyes narrowed.

"I promise" he whispered.

He was kind of a weirdo, but you imagined he'd been through a lot. For this reason, you decided to place the knife on the table and get closer to him.

"But anyway, sooner or later you're going to tell me how you did it." you chuckled showing him the door. You were standing right in front of him now. He was taller than you thought.

"We haven't officially met, I'm Y/N."

In that moment – a moment you'll never forget – he vanished right before your eyes.

Then a sudden voice – that didn't hide insecurity and expectancy – coming from behind, made you turn around and left you in absolute shock.

"I'm Michael. Michael Langdon."

___________________________________________

Tagging (hope you don’t mind, in any case just tell me!) @michael-langdon-appreciation @hecohansen31 @so-langdon @emmyrosee @ladynuwanda @sammythankyou @sojournmichael @hplotrfan

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Not The Last Time

A/N: 10 smooches down and 9 to go! This one wraps up the Logan requests with a little follow up to The Bottom AU. 

Word Count: 2,497

Prompt from: @gollyderek 

She told me this would happen. Logan thought back to your warning, to the serious way you looked at him when you begged him to heed your words. He remembered the way you’d squeezed his hand, eyes watering as you’d said his name. She told me, and I didn’t listen, and now… He groaned and rolled over in bed, his bones aching and his head on fire, pulling the sweat-soaked sheet up to his chin. It was day three of absolute misery, and he couldn’t deny any longer that he should have listened to you. But even in his feverish suffering, a small part of him knew it wouldn’t be the last time that this happened. He clamped his swollen eyes shut and tucked his face into the pillow, shivering as his joints screamed and another pitiful groan emanated from the back of his sore throat. 

But I don’t regret a minute.

It was the flu, and you’d had it first. Well, Juliet had it first, and then she generously spread it to you and Tony in the conference room. Juliet was likely the most dedicated person you’d ever met, aside from Logan, and she hated missing work for any reason. Logan had been away meeting with investors who hadn’t come out to the last fundraising event because they had chosen to remain anonymous. Out of the four of you, he was the one best suited to handle donor relations among a few other administrative responsibilities having had such a strong background in dealing with investments for various Delos Incorporated projects and campaigns. While in the two years since breaking ground on The Door rehabilitation facility he’d stepped back from a few of his duties, handing the reins over mostly to you and Tony and the staff that had been hired, he and Juliet remained largely involved in important decisions and operations. With him gone for several days to secure this new substantial donation, Juliet simply couldn’t justify staying home for what she thought were just some sniffles, despite you and Tony assuring her that she should. 

One sneeze led to another, and before you knew it all three of you were down for the count with high fevers, debilitating head and body aches, and a barking cough that left your throat raw. You were sure that working at the facility, being around lots of different people in lots of different states of addiction and rehabilitation, lots of different states of health would mean that eventually, your immune system would become invincible. But eventually was still a ways off, and this particular strain of the flu was ruthless. By the third day of Logan’s absence, you were completely bed ridden, and when he called that night you hardly had a voice to answer with. 

“You sound terrible,” he groaned after your weak, raspy greeting. 

“Miss you too, Logan,” you tried for sarcasm but ended up sounding pathetic. 

“You need me to come back early?” 

You shook your head back and forth across your pillow, dizzying yourself further as you clutched the phone to your ear. “No. No, you have to meet with the donors, Logan, it’s” you paused to cough, a wet hacking wheeze that you knew was only making him more concerned. “It’s important for the center.” 

“But you sound…”

“I’ll be fine, Logan,” you tried to sound assuring, but you knew you didn’t. “Promise. It’s just the flu.” 

You’d made him swear not to cut the trip short just because you were under the weather, and he begrudgingly agreed. You’d then proceeded to sleep for most of the remaining two days that he was gone, forcing down some broth and tea in the few hours you’d spent awake.  

You and Logan had been officially seeing one another for about 8 months before he’d left on this trip. You hadn’t moved in together yet, but you had keys to his place and he had a copy of yours that he used regularly. You rarely spent more than two consecutive nights in separate beds, Logan letting himself into your apartment with a bag full of groceries to cook dinner for both of you, or you heading to his place after a long day, arms laden with takeout bags. It was amazing how different things were for the two of you now, compared to how things were when you met. Now when you sprawled out on couches, draped across one another, it was because you were exhausted from a full day’s work, or full from a healthy meal. Even though you’d known every inch of Logan’s body back then, and he was an expert on yours, you’d taken things slowly this time. Between the two of you you’d had enough brushes with death to make you truly appreciate all the little things in life, bringing your focus to the future; to ensuring that you’d have one together. You were afforded time now that you didn’t know you’d have then, and you spent every last second of it like pennies in a change jar. 

You’d been asleep on the couch, giving yourself a change of scenery from the bedroom, when the scraping sound of a key in the lock opened your eyes. You slowly sat up as the door opened, peeking out from under your blanket cocoon and over the back of the couch as Logan stepped into view. Even though you still felt awful, the second your eyes landed on him you were comforted. He’s home. But at the same time, you didn’t want to get him sick. You’d told him not to come over until you were better, and it was a testament to how delerious you were that you believed he’d listen. He shut the door behind him and turned in your direction, a deep sigh falling from his lips at the sight of you. 

“Hey,” he said softly, already halfway to the flu infected pile of sweatpants and blankets you’d become. “How are you feeling?” He scooped up your legs and sat on the couch with you, draping them over his lap. 

“Logan,” you groaned. “You’re gonna get sick… I told you not to-” the rest of your sentence was swallowed by a sneeze as you turned your face into your pillow. 

He brought one hand up to your cheek, his fingertips delightfully cool on your feverish skin. “I know what you told me.” His eyes met yours as you turned back to him, and as always you were socked by the affection you saw there. He leaned down to kiss your opposite cheek, and you whimpered at the feeling of his beard brushing your face. “I don’t care if I get sick,” he told you, one arm winding beneath your shoulders, the other going back under your legs. “You need me, so I’m here.” You tried to protest again, but he placed another kiss to your cheek. “Shh, come on,” he stood and you felt his strong arms flex under your weak frame as he cradled you close to his chest and carried you to bed. “You eat anything today?” he asked, nudging the door open with his foot. 

“Had some soup. Juliet dropped it off. She’s back to work already.” He settled you into the bed and you sunk into the mattress, a yawn slipping out as he slipped his shoes off. 

“Good.” Logan unbuttoned his jacket and removed it, tossing it over the back of the chair in the corner before doing the same with his dress shirt and pants. 

“Logan, what are you-” you tried to sit up but he laid a hand on your shoulder and gently but firmly pushed you back into the pillows as he climbed into bed beside you. Wrapping one arm around you, he dragged you against his body and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“You’re sick. And I missed you. I’m staying. I’m taking care of you, and,” he swiped your sweat slicked hair from your eyes. “I’m holdin’ you. C’mon, take a nap with me. I’m jet lagged as fuck and you need your rest.”

You shook your head against his chest, but you gave in knowing there was no changing his mind. “You’re gonna get this damn flu.” 

His fingers traced up and down the back of your neck and it was the most soothing thing you’d felt in days. “That’s okay, I’m sure it won’t be the last time.” 

As much as you hated the idea of him going through what you’d been feeling for the last few days, you couldn’t help but smile at his words. He meant it, and you knew it- he was in it for the long haul with you, and while you both would prefer not to catch bugs like this one, you knew that what he was really saying was that he was there for you, always. You drifted off to sleep, lulled by the rhythm of his breathing and the way it felt to have his arms around you again. 

You woke up the next morning feeling head and shoulders better, and by the following morning you were over the worst of your symptoms. But Logan’s had just begun. 

..  .. ..  .. .. ..  .. ..

“You should stay here,” you suggested, brushing your hair in the mirror but looking at him laid out in your bed behind you as you spoke. “Keep all the germs in one place.” 

He grunted a response that sounded like “I’m not sick.” And you turned, setting your brush down on your dresser to cross the room to the bed. 

“Yes, you are, Logan. You have the flu.” You pulled the blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders. “I’m only going in for a few hours, just to catch up on what I missed the last couple of  days.” You combed your fingers through his hair as he blinked up at you, eyes swollen and watering. “Then I’ll be right back here with you.” 

“I’m gonna kill my sister for spreading this fuckin flu,” there was absolutely no conviction in his voice.

“I know,” you leaned down to kiss the corner of his eye, and he weakly gripped your wrist, running his thumb slowly over your pulse point. 

“I hate bein sick...feels so… useless…” he broke off into a fit of coughs that you felt in your own chest. 

“You’re not useless, Logan. You just need to rest and get better. I’m gonna be back before you know it, and then I’ll take care of you like you did for me. Promise.” You set him up with some tea, a box of tissues, and changed out the blanket he’d been using for a fresh one. By the time you were satisfied with the level of care you’d provided, he was already snoring and you quietly crept out of the room, wishing you could stay but knowing you needed to get into the office to return some calls and emails. I’ll be back as soon as I can, Logan, you thought, closing the door behind you. Love you, Delos.

You hadn’t started using that word yet, even though you both knew that it was there. But you hadn’t kept it from your thoughts, and you found yourself thinking it often. Over the next few days you worked partially from home, spending a few hours each morning in meetings and helping out with intake at the center, and then returning with some work so that you could be around to take care of Logan, loving him like he loved you. 

..  .. ..  .. .. ..  .. ..

On the fourth day after coming back from his trip, Logan woke up feeling completely better, but alone in your bed. Running his hands over the sheets on your side, he thought about how miserable the last week had been, the two of you sick as dogs. But I would do it again in a heartbeat. I love her… 

He got up and showered, changing into a clean pair of sweats and pulling a tee shirt over his head before emerging from the bedroom for the first time in days. He found you in the kitchen, cursing under your breath as you tried to scrape the burnt eggs from the pan. She’s a terrible cook. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest as you deposited the burnt eggs in the garbage, frustration on your face. You set the pan back on the stove and turned to the refrigerator to grab new eggs, muttering to yourself, when you saw him and stopped. “Oh!” You smiled, forgetting how annoyed you were with the eggs and your endearing lack of culinary skills. “Hey, how are you feeling? Better?” 

Logan nodded. “Much.” 

“I was trying to cook you breakfast...been a couple days since you ate real food. I know the broth diet sucks,” you shrugged. “But, I suck at cooking so…” 

You do. He let his arms drop as he walked into the kitchen, and took the egg carton from your hands, setting it on the counter. Gripping your hip, he tugged you closer and pressed his lips to your for the first time since he’d been home. He felt your gasp against his mouth before you eased into the kiss, and he moved the hand at your hip around to your back, fingers clutching the fabric of your tee shirt. Sunlight spilled in through the skylight in your kitchen, and he felt its warmth combined with the warmth of your body as you melted against one another. He broke away with a gentle tug at your bottom lip, then swept his thumb under your eye. 

“What was that for?” You asked, breathless and grinning. 

“That?” Logan shrugged, his hands still on you. “That was for nothing.” No reason was his favorite reason to kiss you, but the next few reasons he was about to share were right up there on the list. “But this is for takin care of me.” He leaned back in capturing your lips once more. “And this is because I love you.” You let out another gasp as he spoke the words against your mouth. “And this…” He pulled back and looked into your eyes, and what he saw there made him completely sure of his next words. “This is because I want you to move in with me…” he left a small kiss on your cheek before pulling back again. “What do you think about that?” 

You let out a breath, your mouth open in shock, but you recovered quickly reaching up and tangling your fingers in his hair. “I think you were right. It’s not the last time we’re gonna get each other sick. I think I love you, Logan Delos, and I think this is my answer,” You kissed him then, and his arms tightened around you. When you pulled away, you were both grinning ear to ear. “And I think you should take over in here, if you actually want your food to be edible.”

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @agent-bossypants @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @belladonnarey @ymariejp @obscurilicious @ms-delos @songtoyou @gollyderek @traeumerinwitzhelden @breanime @drinix 

let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!! 

[skelezbian]

I saw your thing on AO3 about requests and I was wondering if for any skeleton, any AU, if you could do a 'I came to a dance class because of my brother and now we have to awkwardly slow dance/tango/waltz together'. Thank you for your wonderful writing!

UGH this one is so good it’s haunted me since i saw it in my inbox. (i chose underswap papyrus btw)

ao3 link

Papyrus, if pressed, would’ve said that his second least favorite thing to do was move. His ideal day had him lazing about, sketching out some complex Rube Goldberg machine to move even less but with more complex hijinks involved. He certainly hadn’t been so low when he was younger, but growing up seemed to take the wind out of his sails, and the fact that his friend group extended to one person and his brother certainly hadn’t helped. He’d had big dreams- becoming a part of the Royal Guard and all of the romance that entailed. The suit of armor, the fancy outings, the prestige of it all, the hope for a future on the Surface… It had painted a very shiny and ideal future to a kid whose earliest memory was of his older brother panicking about finding them somewhere to live.

That future had dulled as he got older. Some dreams, he had supposed, were best left as dreams. He was slow and achy at only twenty years and those weren’t the kind of goals an achy skeleton got to have.

Unfortunately, Sans disagreed. He’d been the president of the Papyrus Fan Club the day that he’d become an older brother, and his optimism and hope for him never ceased to amaze Papyrus. He’d long since given up trying to get him to physically prepare for being a knight in the Royal Guard (giving Papyrus all of his sentry shifts so he wouldn’t have to move as much), but Papyrus had been naive to believe that his brother had forgotten about his childhood ramblings.

On the Surface, now, everything seemed limitless and possible, and Sans has fucking signed him up for a ballroom dancing class.

“i’m not going. you can’t make me.” Papyrus says, petulantly, childishly, sitting at their living room table. His fingers find a carved indention where he had tried to write his name in the wood when he was younger- ‘papiris’. “you remember what happened when you signed me up for a yoga class. what do you think is going to happen?”

“OH, DON’T GIVE ME THAT.” Sans turns around only briefly from where he’s scrambling eggs to roll his eyelights at him. “YOU DIDN’T DO THE WARM-UPS, IT’S NOT THE ENTIRE PRACTICE OF YOGA’S FAULT. BESIDES, BALLROOM DANCING IS THE LOWEST EFFORT DANCE LESSON I COULD FIND.” The spatula gently scrapes the bottom of the pan. “BESIDES. YOU USED TO LOVE THOSE CHEESY HUMAN ROMANCE SOAPS.”

“well, i’m about a decade and a half older than i was when i first watched ‘beauty and the beast’, so i don’t think that counts, sans.” He grumbles, slumping onto the table. Yoga had been a horrific incident- the humans were nice, the atmosphere was fine, but they’d done a simple move and his thigh bone had popped out of his pelvic cradle and the woman next to him had screamed and fainted. And then the instructor had called a human ambulance despite Papyrus’ protests, all while he tried to calm down enough to get his magic to reattach his leg. It was single handedly the most embarrassing moment of his life, even over the time Undyne invited her girlfriend over and had completely forgotten that he hadn’t left her house yet.

If he knows Sans, though, there’s no way around this because, “I ALREADY PAID FOR IT.” Then, to soften the blow, “IT’S ONLY ONE LESSON. WHAT’S THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN?”

“my leg could fall off again?”

“WELL, KEEP AN EYE ON THEM SO THEY DON’T RUN AWAY, THEN!” He starts building his plate- a slice of toast, several strips of turkey bacon, and his eggs (lightly salted). “I EVEN SPOKE WITH THE INSTRUCTOR ABOUT THIS- SHE SAID SHE’D PAIR YOU WITH SOMEONE EXPERIENCED SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THEM STEPPING ON YOUR TOES. JUST…” Sans hands him his plate, a small smile on his face, “JUST TRY TO HAVE FUN!”

Papyrus stuffs his face with eggs and tries to ignore how hard his brother is trying to make him happy.

-

Even though the idea of being over-dressed for this occasion was horrifying, Papyrus could only imagine how embarrassing it would be if he had ended up underdressed. When he was younger, he used to love fashion and his idea of what was ‘cool’ (usually, clothes that looked like they were covered in car decals), but he had been hard-pressed to find one dress shirt in his closet. Ultimately, he’d ended up borrowing one of Sans’ and tucking it into khakis he hadn’t worn in four years, which exposed his growth spurt and, incidentally, his thin tibias.

He walked into that auditorium room feeling like a class-a clown in the worst of ways. He couldn’t tell if it was a good or a bad thing that no one turned to look at him when he’d walked in, and the indecision had sweat beading on his skull. Was it too late to just bail? Could Sans afford for him to just leave and lose the money on this lesson? It was ballroom dancing, so it couldn’t have been cheap- what if he’d spent that extra money he was going to use for his vacation days on this? What if-

“Hi! Are you Papyrus?” He lurches, feeling someone’s hand touch his shoulder, disrupting his running thoughts. “Oh! Sorry to startle you!”

“oh, uh, um, uh.” He can’t physically return his eye sockets to how they were normally. He’s suddenly very glad that Sans had pressed his shirt for him, because you’re wearing a sleek black outfit that compliments you so well that he has to tell himself not to stare. “yes. papyrus. that’s me. and, um, you are…?”

“I’m your dancing partner for today.” You say with a smile, and introduce yourself. “You’re a bit behind with the lessons, so everyone’s a bit more advanced. Your brother, um, mentioned that you’d be a bit uncomfortable with having more attention on you than necessary, so we’re going to be practicing separately from the group to get you caught up. Is that alright?”

“yup. that’s alright, yeah.” Stars, why can’t he make his mouth say something, anything, cooler than that? The light sweat on his face still hasn’t faded.

You chuckle, just a little, and reach out your hand. It takes him a moment to realize you wanted him to hold your hand. For the dancing. Duh. He hesitates, fitting his hand into your’s slowly, a wobbly smile reaching his face when you flex your fingers on his. “Wow! You’re real solid.” Staring down at your joined hands, it takes Papyrus a moment to realize why his soul is racing in his rib cage- this is the first time in months that anyone other than Undyne or Sans has touched him. Stars, he’s a mess. Taking his pause for more hesitation, you try to amend, “We won’t be doing too much dancing today- it’s mostly about helping you find some rhythm and sync up with me. Just, um, let me know if anything makes you uncomfortable?”

You’re really nice and he feels super bad about this entire situation- he can only imagine how frail his brother must’ve made him sound. “don’t worry- i know you’re just doing your job. if anything’s sour, i’ll let you know.” He hadn’t noticed that you were tense until he’d finished speaking and saw your shoulders relax.

“Phew, okay. I mean, it’d get really hard to get you into rhythm if you’re not comfortable, so that’s our first obstacle.” You sway forward and, automatically, Papyrus leans forward to make sure you don’t fall. He then realizes it was on purpose, to test if he could take your weight. “Okay, Papyrus, talk to me. What kind of music do you like?”

“for this kind of stuff? i’d say blues.” You rest your other hand on his shoulder, and indicate for him to do the same. He feels your shoulders raise with a small laugh.

“That was a joke, right? ‘Rhythm and blues’? That’s cute.” You say it so genuinely that it pulls a chuckle from him. You begin to sway side-to-side- initially, the both of you are mismatched, but he falls into step easily soon, matching your pace.

“hey, i got a few more up my button-down’s sleeve. you ever heard the one about the old duck comedian?”

You got a silly smile on your face, as if you could guess the punchline. “Nope, never have. Is it going to… quack me up?” Your fingers slide more securely towards his neck, and he finds that holding you under your arm and around your shoulder blade is far more comfortable than locking his elbow straight to hold onto you.

“nah, but he’ll bill you for it later.” The punchline gets a small laugh from you, shaking your head. “hey, how long have you been dancing?” The two of you had fallen into an almost-natural sway, gently rocking to-and-from. You take one step to your right, and he immediately follows with you. Papyrus can suddenly see the importance of being familiar with your partner’s body language.

“Oh, not too long. About two years- I did a competition a little while back. Not much came of it.” He misreads you and steps forward, stepping on your foot. You simply take a step back, pulling your foot out. “The instructor’s a friend of mine- I help the newbies out. And don’t worry about my shoes- I always wear a scuffed pair for the first-timers.” You wink, and it sends his soul fluttering.

“that so? you know, i’ve never really looked, but i’m pretty sure i have two left feet, so i might wear a hole down on those shoes.”

“Now, that’d be a feat!” You look so proud of your little joke, your smile crinkling the edges of your eyes. He laughs and, for some reason, that little joke makes the rest of the evening go so much faster. It’s mostly swaying to the beat and chatting idly, you moving him and him being moved until he finally gets it and he can almost predict your next steps. You shoot him a wicked grin, “So, did you notice?”

“notice what?” To make sure, he looks down at his feet to make sure they aren’t scuffing your shoes again. You giggle at that, so he tries to crack a joke, “now, are you saying that my two left feet are making a right?”

You snort. “Actually! I just taught you the box step, so I’d consider that a right! Here, watch your feet.” You pulled him back, stepped to your left, then forward, then back into resting position. It wasn’t anything impressive, but Papyrus was somewhat amazed that he hadn’t noticed the both of you moving in a perfect square. “So? Not as bad as you were expecting, huh?”

“no, not bad at all…” He responds, almost surprised himself. Forward, right, back, return. All with your hand resting on the slope of his shoulder, all with you smiling up at him. “huh.”

“Yeah, ‘huh’.” You laugh and wink at him again, as if all of this was some elaborate plan on your part, to lull him into a sense of security and trick him into dancing. “So, you want to refine it a bit?”

“yeah, i think that’d make us square.”

When Sans comes to pick him up, he can’t conceal the smile on his face. You wave to him from amongst teenagers reuniting with their parents, partners sharing water bottles and dabbing sweat from their foreheads, and your grin is so wide it forces your eyes shut. Papyrus watches you from the passenger seat of Sans’ economic Nissan, fingers drumming on his pressed pants’ leg. “SO. HOW WAS IT? DID YOU… SHAKE A LEG?”

The joke startles a laugh out of him, “you know what? i shook two of them, and they stayed attached this time.” Sans lets out a mock gasp of surprise. “it was a lot of fun, sans. honestly, i didn’t think i’d enjoy it, but… well, i guess part of it is the partner.”

As hard as he tries to ignore it, Sans is giving him an ‘I TOLD YOU SO’ grin in his peripheral. “WELL, I GUESS THAT OLD DANCING SKELETON JOKE ISN’T TRUE ANY MORE.” He turns to wink at his younger brother, “I’M GLAD YOU HAVE SOME BODY TO DANCE WITH.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 211: Jane, Stop This Crazy Thing

Previously on BnHA: The fifth and final joint training battle began with Team DekuRakaMinaTa VS Team MonoShinYanaYuiShou. (There’s probably a better way to combine those last five names. Maybe it’s time to retire this joke.) Anyways, All Might answered a phone call from Gran Torino and went to go chat with him about OFA, probably thinking to himself that surely he wouldn’t miss much in just the next five minutes or so! So while he was doing that, Shouda, Yanagi, and Kodai attacked Ochako, Mina, and Mineta with a bunch of huge flying objects. And Monoma confronted Deku and started taunting him, first trying to goad him into revealing his friends’ location, and then trying to bait him by snidely accusing his boyfriend of being the one who caused the demise of the Symbol of Peace. Fucking ouch. He almost baited me with that one tbh. Anyway, that really pissed Deku off, but because he’s a smart kid he still didn’t respond and instead went to blast Monoma with his air gun attack. Except that all of a sudden some weird fucking shit started happening and Deku’s right hand basically exploded with black lightning. Ah, well, you know. Just One for All things.

Today on BnHA: Flashback!Monoma (from like five minutes ago) bonds with Shinsou over having quirks that don’t necessarily make one think “hero!” at first glance. He asks Shinsou how he goaded Deku into opening his mouth back at the sports festival, and Shinsou says he insulted his classmates. Monoma is all “!” and we then cut back to the present, where Deku is all “NNNNNGHHHH” and scary black tendrils are lancing out from his arm every which way trying to either capture Monoma or flat out kill him (who can say). At first everyone is all “Midoriya fucking powered himself up again?” not realizing that for once it was unintentional and he has no control over it. Once Deku starts screaming at everyone to run away -- and the “new technique” starts ripping apart the entire fucking stage -- it kinda starts to sink in, though. All Might tells Aizawa they need to end the match, and meanwhile Ochako floats herself up and latches on to Deku and then calls out to Shinsou for help. Probably because she’s learned her lesson about waiting on the teachers to ever do anything, sob.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 224, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

LOOOOOOOOL

so we’re opening chapter 211 in exactly the way that everyone was expecting! with a fucking Monoma flashback lmao

whoever was telling him that, they’re really fucking stupid by the way. Monoma legit has one of the best quirks in the game. all it means is he would work best on a team, that’s all

so he’s bonding with Shinsou (this is a flashback, obviously, so that first panel was a flashback-within-a-flashback) over them both having quirks that people looked down on

look at that, Shinsou. even fucking Monoma adopted you

oh my god hold up. do I ship it?? ...lol I’m not sure

lol well Shinsou is saying “that doesn’t make me happy” in response to Monoma declaring they were the same type. so now I know they can banter, and so the answer is yes, I do in fact ship it. this is not a thing I was expecting to happen in this arc. Shinsou I’ve gone from you being in the background every so often popping up to remind us you exist, to me having adopted you and shipping you with at least two people, one of whom is the kid who in the previous chapter was like “hey you know that thing that Bakugou secretly harbors horrible guilt over? let me just go and get in his boyfriend’s face and be all ‘yeah it totally was his fault.’” man. life sure is funny

and apparently this little weasel did it on Shinsou’s advice!

LMAO Monoma this is the role you were born to play. all you have to do to succeed is insult class 1-A omg. can you do it? it’s gonna be so fucking hard for you, so out of character. you’ll have to dig down deep

anyway so I’m not sure if this is Monoma or Shinsou monologuing here (though I’m leaning toward Monoma because he’s responsible for 8 out of 10 monologues in general when he’s around) (ETA: yeah it’s Monoma), but either way it’s an interesting speech

ahh, and now we’re back in the present!

ahhhhhhhhh

goddamn it Horikoshi. I have no idea whose thoughts these are. whatever, I’ll have to figure it out and come back to reanalyze it later

(ETA: so hey, now that we’ve caught up to this point, I finally have access to the Viz translations again! their translation makes a lot more sense, and makes it clear this is just a continuation of Monoma’s speech. here:

I appreciate the deeper look into Monoma’s psyche, but I don’t know if I buy into this argument that his quirk forces him to act unheroically. Shinsou’s quirk is a different story perhaps, but there’s nothing about the copy quirk that necessitates unscrupulous conduct in order to win the day. it just so happens that he is very good at goading others, and it only makes sense to use that to his advantage when he can. like, it’s a respectable strategy, if one that doesn’t necessarily win you a lot of friends. 

I for one don’t feel like he needs to justify himself; it’s a battle, and you gotta do what you gotta do to try and give yourself the edge, especially when you’re up against the fucking main character. but anyway, maybe he feels a little guilty deep down and has to rationalize it like this. or maybe he’s just trying to bond with Shinsou and be all “yeah I get you man, you don’t have a choice, it’s rough.” or maybe a little of column A and a little of column B, who knows. anyways.)

in the meantime, check out Monoma and Shinsou’s confused and slightly apprehensive expressions! “did Midoriya’s arm just fucking explode”

apologies to everyone reading this liveblog for getting myself spoiled btw. I probably robbed you guys of a delightful time of watching me freak the fuck out and thinking Deku had lost control of OFA again and was gonna blow his arm off or some fucking shit. but instead I’m just fucking excited because this little shrubbery of a boy is about to level the fuck up and he doesn’t even know it yet

you can see why alternate universe me would have been so concerned. it looks like he’s having a heart attack and being sucked into the void. it looks like Miroku’s kazaana from Inuyasha. oh my god

Monoma my respect for you just increased tenfold. look at you keeping your cool while not having the slightest fucking clue what’s going on

(ETA: actually this reminds me a lot of Katsuki facing the League of Villains and running his mouth at them and appearing confident but all the while having that one bead of sweat visible the entire time. Monoma has a lot more in common with him than he may think.

...in fact, I would totally read an AU where Monoma does more successfully in the cavalry battle and makes it into the tournament and consequently ends up drawing the League’s attention instead of Katsuki -- because he does do a very decent villain impression, this one -- and as a result he’s the one who gets taken. featuring a bonus rescue attempt led by Tetsutetsu and Kendou, and a Kamino arc that strangely enough ends up playing out very similarly to the one we actually got, in the end. anyways. it’s an interesting What If to think about.)

oh hey I just noticed the chapter title is “successor” and FUCK YEAHHHH are we gonna get the spoiler in this chapter? cuz then I can go back to not being spoiled again, so that’ll be nice

oh SHIT

“RUN” IS GOOD ADVICE MONOMA, I’D FUCKING LISTEN TO HIM?!

NOW IT REALLY LOOKS LIKE THE KAZAANA. except blasting black lightning shit out instead of sucking shit in

wow this is fucking amazing. I love the potential for future battles, given how powerful it seems to be and yet how he appears to have no fucking clue how to control it and so it consequently becomes a double-edged sword putting himself and his comrades at risk. it’s a lot like Eri’s power in that sense

also Deku is making some amazing faces in this chapter and I feel like we should be appreciative

Monoma is not doing a half-bad job of dodging this maniac who is trying to fucking kill him

jesus christ. maybe next time we don’t insult his boyfriend, Monoma

now he’s turning to call Shinsou and he looks pretty rattled tbh

but you know who doesn’t look rattled, like at all?

I burst out laughing in real life oh my god. they’re just like “...must be Tuesday”

I mean, this kid went from breaking all his bones to suddenly having super agility to being super strong without breaking his bones to using fucking wind attacks. they probably have no idea what his quirk is at this point and so they’re just assuming this is just another natural evolution

and the thing is, they’re not wrong

oh shit now Deku’s fucking flying toward Shinsou

have him brainwash you and command you to turn it off then!

also, I wasn’t sure with the previous chapter but now I am sure that they definitely do have sound (by “they” I mean the teachers and other students watching, that is), because they were able to follow all that stuff with Shinsou’s voice changer in the first match. so they can hear Deku saying that he doesn’t have control. so what I’m saying here is the teachers should definitely be calling this match off immediately

but will they? well, it’s U.A. so I think we all know the answer to that. it ain’t over till somebody croaks

jesus now we’re cutting to the scene from a distance and this shit is even crazier than I thought

TEACHERS ARE YOU GOING TO DO ANYTHING? NO? OKAY

TEACHERS, DEKU HAS LOST CONTROL OF HIS QUIRK AND IS SMASHING THE TRAINING STAGE APART AND TRYING TO KILL FRIEND AND FOE ALIKE. ARE YOU GOING TO PUT A STOP TO THIS FIGHT? NO? OKAY

ALL MIGHT, YOUR BELOVED PROTEGE AND ADOPTED SON IS FLYING AROUND UNCONTROLLABLY AND DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO STOP. ARE YOU GOING TO -- you know what. just, never mind

oh shit

ffff Aizawa looking at him like “what’s this now? ‘stop’?”

(ETA: Aizawa. Aizawa listen to me. I need you to look me in the eye and tell me honestly -- if All Might hadn’t said anything, would you have just fucking stood there until everyone fucking died? would you have done anything?? how much more of your problem child hupping all around the stage with this bucking bronco of a quirk screaming “STOP!! STOP!!” would you have calmly observed before it occurred to you to fucking do your job. tell me. be honest. listen, I love and respect you, dude, but sometimes you make me a little concerned.)

god I am loving this so much. this is not at all how I expected this last match to go

ahhhhhh noooooo

he’s scared! he says it hurts! oh shit I’m sorry Deku I didn’t know it was hurting you ah fuck

though that makes sense, because it’s blasting out of your right fucking arm, though, because it’s always that fucking arm, isn’t it. and whatever this new quirk is, it’s at 100% just like OFA was when you first activated it. and we all know that pretty much all quirks can do a lot of damage to the user if used at full capacity for too long

there’s another panel of Ochako staring in horror. there’s been a lot of those. is it just to show her concern, or is she planning something to help him (I have no idea what she could do though), or is she taking mental notes here and this means she’ll be hounding him with questions about his quirk after this and will eventually learn about OFA too?

(ETA: thankfully no one other than Shouto thinks to ask, and Shouto accepts the weakest of excuses without hesitation because this is the densest and most trusting group of kids to ever walk the earth. Deku your secret is safe for life. all he has to do is just shrug his shoulders every damn time. “fucking quirks, though. wild.”)

ahhh now we’re really getting into Deku’s POV and he’s freaking out bad flkajlkj

no baby no don’t cry it’ll be all right

fuck. he’s scared and he’s frustrated because everything was finally starting to go so well and he was finally getting the hang of things and on his way to being a reliable hero, and now this stupid fucking quirk is out of control again and it’s like nothing he ever experienced before, and it hurts and he has no idea what to do and he might hurt other people and fucking shit, someone help him!!

AHHHH

ONE FOR ALL YOU BETTER LISTEN TO HIM!!

is he crying blood??!

(ETA: sure looks like it. jesus Deku you’re dramatic as fuck.)

okay WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING

OH MY GOD

OCHAKO

girl when I said I had no idea what you could do to help him, that’s because I didn’t think you’d be crazy enough to fucking float yourself right at him when he’s losing it like this

goddamn that’s a ballsy fucking move though, shit

oh shit!

brainwash him and get control of him and then she can float him down to safety! yes!! do it!!

MY GIRL OCHAKO SAVING THE DAY AND MY BOY SHINSOU BEING BRAVE IN THE CLUTCH AND SAVING DEKU AS WELL AND HOPEFULLY GETTING INTO CLASS A FOR HIS EFFORTS. OH SHIT. THIS IS AMAZING. DOES THIS ARC HAVE HATERS?? I CAN’T UNDERSTAND WHY IT WOULD OH SHIT I FUCKING LOVE ALL OF THIS

Shinsou looks like a deer in fucking headlights by the way. like someone just caught him doing something super embarrassing. haha I love it

oh my god I’m gonna go read the next one

[musette22]

Title: Café Rouge

Pairing: Peggy Carter x Angie Martinelli (F/F)

Rating: E (18+)

Word count: 5k

Summary: AU meet-cute. Angie is a freelance journalist who also works night shifts at a bar in Queens. One evening, one of her customers turns out to be a stunning British woman who flirts with her and makes her an offer she can’t refuse. Will Angie throw caution to the wind and go home with a complete stranger? (spoiler alert: yeah, she will. Surprise.)

A/N: This is my contribution to the awesome concept of Femslash February! I actually started this story for a non-fandom related project, but naturally my head is in fandom mode always, and I secretly wrote it about Peggy and Angie anyway gna gna

I don’t really know many folks on here who would be interested in this, so I think this is going to go largely unnoticed, but that’s ok because I had a lot of fun writing it! But just in case there are any Cartinelli fans out here as well or people interested in F/F in general, give it a read and let me know what you think!

Tagging a few lovely people who might be interested (if not, I’m sorry and ignore me!!): @wintersoldier1989 @ravensonata @buckmesideways22 @supersoldiersruined-me @wildestdreamsimpossiblethings @itsthesummerof2001lily-ella @stanclub @murder-daddy-buckyy @captainrogerrsbeard

Let me know if you’d be interested in being added to my taglist, for future F/F or more generally!

Café Rouge

“Three beers, a white wine and a sparkling water, please.”

Angie gives the tall, lanky man who placed the order a nod and gets cracking. It’s a busy Friday night at Café Rouge, the bar where she’s been working for the past year or so, doing a couple of late shifts a week to supplement the income she has from working as a freelance journalist. She really does enjoy the work; it’s good to be among other humans every now and again instead of being locked away in her one bedroom flat in Queens day after day. Performing the familiar actions with a practiced ease, Angie holds up the card machine and takes the payment, then puts it back next to the cash register behind her.

She turns around again with a smile, ready to help another customer, only to have the wind knocked out of her when she locks eyes with the next person in line.

The woman, who is probably a few years older than Angie herself, has shoulder-length, dark brown hair; wavy and thick and framing a striking face with big, sparkling, brown eyes and amazing bone structure. Angie’s eyes drift downwards without her permission and linger on the woman’s generous bosom for a moment. After a few seconds, she checks herself and forces her gaze back up to look at the woman, whose lips, painted red, curve up into a knowing smile the longer Angie stares at her. She cocks her head just slightly in a silent challenge.

It takes Angie a moment to shake herself, but when she does, she stands up straighter and makes sure to smile extra brightly to compensate for her shameless gawking.  

“Hi,” she says, still a little breathless, despite her best efforts to appear professional. “What can I get you?”

The woman smiles. “Could I possibly get a bottle of red? With three glasses, please.”

Angie blinks. Oh my god. And she’s English. Instantly, the woman’s already considerable levels of hotness are bumped up a few more notches. And then, when she takes the change Angie hands her, the brunette has the audacity to thank her with a wink. A wink, goddammit. Angie has to try her damndest not to swoon on the spot.

She really does try to keep her mind on her job after that, tries to not let her attention stray from the customers that need serving, but it’s a lost cause. Every few seconds, her eyes flick to the table in the corner where the brunette is sat, chatting to a familiar looking man and a woman who are sitting close together. The man’s arm is draped over the back of the woman’s chair – a couple, then. Which means that the brunette is third wheeling. Which does not mean that she is single or even interested in women, but Angie will take what she can get.

She can’t decide whether it’s just her overactive imagination, or if the woman really does glance her way from time to time, too. The burning question is finally answered when the brunette makes her way over to the bar again after about half an hour, just when there’s a quiet spell at the bar. It could be a coincidence, but Angie really hopes it isn’t. As she saunters over, Angie admires the confident way her hips sway with every step.

“Hi, again,” the woman smiles, leaning her elbows on the counter. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“Of course,” Angie replies, returning her smile, left hand reaching up automatically to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “How can I help you?”

The woman looks almost embarrassed when she says, “Well, I was hoping you might be able to settle a minor disagreement between my friends and me.”

“Oh,” Angie says, surprised. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but this definitely wasn’t it. “Um, sure. I can try, at least.”

“Thank you,” the brunette replies, flashing her another brilliant smile. “That’s very kind of you. You see, my friends come here a lot, and they seem to think your name is Angela.” She tilts her head, regarding Angie thoughtfully for a moment. “But I don’t think you’re an Angela. Not quite.”

Angie can barely suppress a snort. Wow. Using a transparent excuse to find out her name – that’s definitely flirting.

She hums, deciding to play along. “Well,” she says, “I’d hate to disappoint you, but my given name actually is Angela. Although I usually go by Angie. So in a way you’re right, I guess.”

“Angie.” The woman seems to taste her name like she’s tasting a fine wine. “Yes, that suits you better,” she decides.

“Thank you, I think,” Angie replies, laughing quietly to herself. After a second’s hesitation, she ventures, “Since you now know my name, I think it’s only fair if I know yours, too, no?”

The woman fixes her with a calculating look, and Angie holds her breath, suddenly afraid she misjudged the situation after all. But then the woman's full, distinctly kissable lips turn upwards into a smirk.

“Peggy,” she volunteers, holding out her hand over the counter.

Angie exhales, taking the proffered hand and shaking it lightly. “Lovely to meet you, Peggy.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Angie,” Peggy says, a twinkle in her eye as they hold on to each other’s hands just a little bit too long. Eventually, Angie becomes aware of the fact that there is now someone else standing at the bar, waiting to be served, and she draws back her hand with a regretful smile.

“Was there anything else I could help you with?” she asks, gesturing towards the customer by way of explanation.

Peggy bites her lip, her eyes roaming Angie’s face. “You could tell me when your shift ends,” she says eventually, boldly holding her gaze.

Angie jaw drops. Is she really being propositioned? She debates for a moment whether she should play coy, but quickly dismisses the idea. Playing hard to get does not seem like a game Peggy would appreciate, and if she’s being honest, Angie thinks that Peggy knows full well that she isn’t actually hard to get at all. Not by Peggy, in any case. Angie thinks she’s probably sending out a pretty strong vibe of ‘please drag me to your woman cave at your earliest convenience.’

So she shakes herself and smirks at Peggy. “I'm off in about 45 minutes, as it happens. I can meet you out front?”

Peggy gives her a wide, pleased smile that lights up her entire face. “Sounds like plan.”

The rest of Angie’s shift passes in a blur. She goes through the motions, but her heart certainly isn’t in it. Instead, she keeps throwing glances Peggy’s way, checking whether she’s still there, and every time, she finds Peggy looking back at her. Whenever their eyes meet, Angie’s heart rate picks up and she feels a little frisson of excitement run down her spine.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity but at the same time could be only a couple of minutes, the clock strikes eleven, and Angie is free to go. She hastily runs upstairs to grab her bag, throwing a quick look in the bathroom mirror to check her appearance, before realizing that Peggy has been watching her all night so she probably liked what she saw – even if Angie knows she has looked better.

Huffing at her reflection, Angie quickly runs a hand through her wavy, light brown hair and makes her way downstairs again. A quick glance around the café learns that Peggy is no longer there, although her friends are. When Angie throws them a questioning look, the woman winks at her and tips her head towards the exit. Angie salutes her, then walks outside to find Peggy waiting for her near the entrance. She's leaning against the wall with her hands in the pockets of her overcoat, turning her head when Angie appears through the doorway.

“Hey, you.”

Angie gulps. It feels different, now they’re in the real world. Not her attraction to Peggy – that part’s still very much the same. But the situation feels somehow more real in the chilly night air and the silence. For about a second and a half, she wonders if she should even be doing this. Peggy may not look like an axe murderer, but she’s heard the stories…

Peggy must be able to read the hesitation on her face, because she gives her a rueful smile and asks, “Changed your mind?”

Before her brain can filter her reaction, Angie blurts out, “No.” She feels herself starting to blush immediately, the tips of her ears turning red. “I mean,” she stammers, “I don’t think so. I just… I don’t normally do this.”

“Neither do I,” Peggy admits, and although Angie knows she could just be spinning her a line, it seems genuine enough. “I’m not usually so… forward. But then again,” she shrugs, “I don’t usually feel this much instant attraction upon first meeting someone.”

Angie’s blush deepens further and she huffs a self-conscious laugh. “Are you sure it’s attraction, and not just a really good bottle of wine?”

Peggy’s smile turns lewd. “Oh, I’m sure,” she says, looking Angie slowly up and down.

Angie shivers under Peggy’s gaze, and nods. “Alright,” she says. “Your place, or mine?”

---

“Thanks,” Angie smiles, taking the glass Peggy offers her and lifting it to her mouth to take sip of her wine.

Peggy doesn’t reply, sitting down next to her on the comfy couch instead, tucking her feet under her. She leans one elbow on the backrest, supporting her head with a fist as she regards Angie in silence.

“Like what you see?” Angie asks, turning her head to give Peggy a slightly defiant look.

“Very much,” Peggy answers quietly. “You’re very beautiful, Angie.”

Angie shrugs. “I’m alright,” she says diffidently. “You, on the other hand, are stunning.” Peggy stays quiet, so Angie continues. “I’m not even kidding, Peggy. You might just be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” She lets her eyes roam Peggy’s face, taking in the high forehead and cheekbones and lingering on her full, red lips.

When her eyes finally flick back up to Peggy’s, the intensity with which the other woman is looking back at her makes her unintentionally hold her breath. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Peggy starts to lean in, closing the distance between them inch by inch, until Angie has to close her eyes or go cross-eyed. Soft, plump lips press lightly against her own – more of a caress than a kiss. That is, until Angie surges forward and brings up a hand to tangle her fingers in Peggy’s hair. Instantly, the kiss deepens, Peggy parting her lips just enough for Angie to lick into her mouth.

Peggy responds with an appreciative hum. She lets her hands glide up Angie’s thighs, over her hips and up, until she can grab her by the waist and pull her closer. Angie goes willingly, pressing her body up against Peggy’s and feeling her own, more modest bosom press against Peggy’s considerably larger breasts. Next thing she knows, Peggy is pushing her down onto the couch, and she’s sinking into the pillows as Peggy lowers herself on top of her. Angie spreads her legs instinctively, cradling Peggy between her thighs to get her closer, one hand still in her dark hair while the other runs down her lower back and comes to rest on her firm, round ass.

Peggy is a curvy woman; not overweight by any standard, but not a skinny girl either. She has the ultimate hourglass figure, with large boobs, a tiny waist and a nice, round butt. Angie, by contrast, is slimmer. She’s happy with her c-cup, flat stomach and long, slim legs, but the women she’s usually attracted to are a little curvier. Peggy certainly fits that bill.

While this means that Angie is finding it difficult to keep her hands to herself, fortunately Peggy doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she’s currently untucking Angie’s shirt from her jeans, rucking it up so that she can slide her hands under it and caress the bare skin of her stomach. The naked desire with which Peggy is looking at her, combined with the sensation of her fingers trailing higher and higher until they’re brushing the underside of her boobs, causes Angie to shiver, a sound somewhere between a moan and a giggle escaping her.

“I don’t think you have any idea how much I want you right now,” Peggy whispers against her lips, and Angie whimpers, arching her back to push her body closer to Peggy. The latter takes this as permission to drag her up into a seated position so she can pull her shirt over her head. Once the shirt’s gone, she immediately runs her hands up Angie’s sides, groaning softly as she reaches her bosom and gently squeezes her breasts.

“A perfect handful, baby,” Peggy says affectionately, leaning in again to capture Angie’s lips in a sweet kiss. Before Angie even realizes what’s happening, Peggy’s unhooked Angie’s bra and is sliding it off her shoulders.

Smooth, Angie thinks. Distracting her with gentle smooches to get her naked. Not that she’s complaining. Especially not when, the next moment, Peggy scoots back on the couch and ducks her head to flick at Angie’s left nipple with her tongue. Angie sucks in a sharp breath, her hands flying up to slide into Peggy’s hair again, trying to keep her in place and make her keep doing what she’s doing.

Peggy takes the hint, gently scraping her teeth over the sensitive nub before suckling it to soothe the sting. Angie’s breathing goes shallow instantly, hitching every time Peggy’s teeth connect with her skin. By the time Peggy’s given her other breast the same treatment, Angie is a panting, writhing mess.

Seemingly satisfied, Peggy pushes her back down into the couch cushions again and starts to lick and nip her way down Angie’s naked torso. Angie feels this close to just surrendering and letting Peggy have her wicked way with her, but when she chances a look down and catches a glimpse of Peggy’s cleavage where her blouse has fallen open, she’s suddenly overcome with the desire to touch.

Angie scrambles upright again and grabs Peggy’s wrists, pushing her backwards as she slips off the couch and settles down on her knees in front of Peggy. Peggy looks down at her with wide eyes, and Angie shoots her a cheeky grin before reaching up and starting to unbutton Peggy’s blouse. With every button that comes undone, a tantalizing glimpse of Peggy’s creamy, pale skin is revealed that Angie is physically aching to get her mouth on – particularly her gorgeous breasts, full and firm and straining against the confines of her sexy, lace bra.

Angie groans, dropping her forehead to Peggy’s thigh. Peggy lets out a breathy laugh. “Think you can handle all this?”

She lifts her head again and trains her eyes on Peggy’s chest. “I don’t think that should be a problem,” Angie replies drily.

She proves her point by leaning forwards and mouthing at Peggy’s breasts through the fabric of her bra, leaving damp patches that make Peggy shiver when the cooler air of the room hits them, causing her nipples to harden fully. When she pushes up Peggy’s bra and finally gets to put her hands on them, Angie lets out a soft groan. They feel so good under her palms, firm, yet also soft and yielding. She decides to play with them a little while, running her tongue over the hard nubs that are peeking out from between her fingers, pinching them to make Peggy squirm.

When she eventually releases her breasts, Angie slides her hands down Peggy’s soft but flat stomach, pausing to squeeze her tiny waist, before reaching under her skirt to start pulling down Peggy’s flesh-colored tights. She eases them off her shapely legs, Peggy pointing her toes to make it easier for her. Once they’re off, she grabs the bottom of Peggy’s skirt and starts inching it up bit by bit. Peggy takes the hint and lifts her hips so that Angie can slip the skirt past her ass, bunching it up at her waist and revealing Peggy’s matching dark red, lacy panties.

“Fuck, baby,” Angie breathes. “Look at you. I can’t fucking wait to taste you.”

Peggy moans, her hips rocking upwards, and Angie takes the hint. She leans down and runs the tip of her tongue along the edge of Peggy’s panties, savoring the little hitch in Peggy’s breath it causes. She tugs at the fabric, straining it and pulling it aside just far enough to tease at Peggy’s clit with the tip of her tongue.

“Please,” Peggy pleads, her eyes heavy-lidded as she looks down at her, asking her without words to go the extra mile. Angie is happy to oblige, but they’ll need to get rid of the last items of clothing first. She urges Peggy to lift her hips so she can slide off her panties, while Peggy reaches back to unfasten her own bra. Standing up, Angie quickly shucks off her jeans and panties, too, and then they’re both fully, gloriously naked.

They take a moment to just look each other over with hungry eyes, eyes wandering over curves and dips and soft, bare skin.

When their eyes finally meet again, Peggy whispers, “Come here, sweetheart,” and Angie doesn’t need to be told a second time. She climbs onto the couch, straddling Peggy’s thighs and settling down in her lap. Peggy’s hands immediately stroke down Angie’s back, lingering on the curve of her hips before coming to rest on her butt, giving it a gentle squeeze. Angie arches her back at the touch and presses closer to Peggy, their breasts dragging against each other while she dips her head down again to capture Peggy’s lips in a deep, wet kiss. Peggy hums into it, pushing her tongue against Angie’s insistently while pushing Angie’s hips down onto her own. The action wrings a moan from the both of them and Angie cups Peggy’s breasts in her palms, mouthing along the graceful line of her neck. As she nips and sucks at the skin, she inhales the last hint of Peggy’s perfume – a scent that fits her perfectly and drives Angie a little wild.

“God, you smell so good,” she hums against Peggy’s skin. “You’re like one of my fantasies come to life, I swear to god.”

“Hmmm. I did see you, you know. Staring at me all evening,” Peggy says lowly. “Like you couldn’t wait to get me into bed.”

Angie chuckles breathlessly. “Well, can you blame me? A gorgeous woman, possibly the hottest woman I’ve ever seen, suddenly shows up at my bar and fucking winks at me. Can’t say that happens to me often.”

“Well, it should,” Peggy says seriously, while she trails the tip of her middle finger just along the top of the crease of Angie’s ass. It makes her shiver. “A girl like you should have everyone falling over themselves to win your attention.”

Angie lets out an incredulous huff. “I think you’re confusing me with you again.”

Fire flashes behind Peggy’s eyes, before she suddenly leans in and bites down on the junction between Angie’s shoulder and neck. Angie cries out and draws back to give Peggy a wounded look.

“That’s for talking nonsense,” Peggy says, a little smug. “You’re gorgeous, Angie, and I won’t have anyone say otherwise. Not even you.”

Angie softens, looking into Peggy’s big, brown eyes and finding only sincerity there. It makes her blush, and she bites her lip. “Thank you,” she says softly.

Peggy smiles. “You’re welcome, darling. Now kiss me.” She reaches up to slide her fingers into Angie’s hair and pull her towards her, their lips meeting again in a soft kiss – a gentle, slick slide of lips that somehow manages to rile Angie up even more than the passionate kiss of a few minutes ago.

Suddenly, it feels like she can’t get close enough. She shifts impatiently on Peggy’s lap, and Peggy slides down onto the couch on her back, pulling Angie with her so she ends up lying on top of her. Then she smiles up at her with a mischievous glint in her eyes as she pushes a soft, smooth thigh between both of Angie’s. Angie gasps at the friction, and already it feels so good that she can’t help but grind down onto Peggy’s thigh. A spark of pleasure shoots through her, the action also causing her own thigh to drag along Peggy’s core. She’s pleased to find that she’s not the only one who’s soaking wet by this point.

The discovery spurs Angie on to reach down between them and drag a single finger through Peggy’s wetness. Peggy’s breath hitches, and Angie teasingly strokes through the soft, neatly kempt hair, before tracing Peggy’s folds, first with one finger and then with two, reveling at the soft, smooth feeling and the little sounds Peggy’s started making underneath her.

“You like that, beautiful?” she asks quietly. “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”

Peggy can only nod, her eyes clenching shut when Angie finally touches her clit, a broken sound falling from her lush lips. Angie rubs it in little circles, fast and relentless, until Peggy starts to quiver, her abdomen beginning to tense. That’s Angie’s cue to suddenly slide a finger into her warm, wet heat, making her suck in a sharp breath.

Peggy’s hands fly up to Angie’s hips and squeeze down hard. “More,” she pleads, and Angie obliges, pushing her middle finger in alongside her index finger and starting to slide them in and out, slowly at first, then steadily increasing the tempo.

Angie bites back a groan. Peggy’s hot and she’s tight, and so responsive, and Angie realizes that she could definitely get used to this. She holds herself up with her left arm and leans down to mouth at Peggy’s breasts, flicking her tongue at the hard little nubs and laving it around the sensitive areola. Peggy keeps up a steady stream of moans, clearly not shy about being heard, and Angie adores it. She’s less vocal herself, but loves it when her partners show her how much they appreciate her efforts. The steady movement of her fingers causes deliciously wet little sounds which just serve to ramp up the fire in Angie’s lower belly. She’s aching to be touched, but in this moment, she’s completely focused on giving Peggy as much pleasure as she possibly can.

Peggy protests loudly when Angie eventually pulls back, the complaints dying down once she starts kissing a wet trail down her torso, nipping at the skin as she goes while glancing up at her through her eyelashes. Peggy has her head thrown back, her lips red and slightly parted, and Angie thinks she’s never seen a more enticing sight in her life. She ends up between Peggy’s spread legs and waits to get her attention. Only when she’s sure that Peggy’s eyes are on her, she leans down and buries her face between her legs.

Peggy gasps loudly, her fingers digging into Angie’s hair, trying to spur her on. But Angie takes her time, starting with slow, lavish strokes of her tongue, before closing her lips around her clit and suckling it softly. Peggy makes a wounded sound, and Angie steps up her game, licking with fervor now while never ceasing the movement of her hand. She goes slow sometimes, then faster, before slowing down again, not giving Peggy the chance to anticipate what’s coming next.

Peggy seems to love and hate in equal measure, loud moans and frustrated little huffs falling from her lips, and it doesn’t take long before she starts tensing up again. Her hands on Angie’s head become more insistent now, pushing her down, urging her to lick harder, faster. Angie finally gives in, all at once directing her focus solely to where Peggy wants her most.

“Yes,” Peggy breathes immediately, “yes, yes, yes, just like that, gorgeous, come on.”

Angie gives her all, moaning as her tongue traces quick little circles over Peggy’s clit. Her fingers are pumping in and out steadily now, setting a rhythm that has Peggy panting fast and shallow. A few more seconds, and then Peggy’s thighs close tight around Angie’s head. She arches her back, her moans going high and breathy before she finally stops breathing entirely and stills. She comes hard, clenching around Angie’s fingers and whining, high and wanton. It’s instantly Angie’s favorite sound.

As Peggy is coming down from her high, Angie eases out her fingers gently, kissing the inside of her smooth thigh. Up and up she goes, her lips caressing Peggy’s stomach, her breasts, until she’s hovering over her and dips her head down to catch her lips in a deep, sultry kiss. Peggy hums into it, tasting herself, her left hand coming up to stroke the side of Angie’s face. When Angie pulls back, the look in Peggy’s eye is soft, sated, but before long, a spark of something a little more predatory returns to her gaze. Angie suddenly finds herself being pushed back on her haunches, while Peggy shifts until she’s on her knees, leaning forward to brush a feather light kiss over Angie’s mouth.

“Why don’t you turn around, darling?” Peggy murmurs against her lips.

“Turn around?” Angie asks dazedly, a little intoxicated by Peggy’s nearness, her scent, her everything. Peggy just hums affirmatively, but when Angie doesn’t move, Peggy smirks and grabs her shoulders, pushing and pulling at her until she has Angie where she wants her. Peggy’s hands settle on Angie’s hips, tugging them upwards until she’s crouched forwards on the crouch, a few cushions under her chest to support her, her head resting on her forearms, and her ass up in the air.

Angie feels a little self-conscious like this but exhilarated at the same time. Had she not been so absorbed in the moment, she would have found it extraordinary how much she trusts Peggy already, after having only known her for what is really just a few hours. 

“Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Peggy murmurs reverently, smoothing her palms down Angie’s ass. Angie smiles into the pillow when she feels her press a soft kiss to her right cheek first, then her left, sparing a moment to be thankful that she always keeps things neat and tidy down there, even when she’s in between partners. She feels Peggy’s tongue snake out suddenly, wet and soft against her skin, as if tasting her. Slowly, she nips her way towards Angie’s center, making her shiver in anticipation. Angie moans, wriggling her ass to spur Peggy on.

Peggy just tuts and bites down lightly on her left cheek. “Patience, my love.”

Angie whimpers, a little pathetically but too far gone to care, and this time Peggy has mercy on her. She flicks out her tongue again, where she wants her, this time, a light caress over her clit and then a long stripe down, making Angie whine.

Peggy hums, “You’re so good, sweetheart. So good for me.”

After that, the time for talking is over. Peggy laps her tongue over Angie’s center, using her lips to create suction that drives Angie nearly out of her mind. Then, to make matters worse – or better, depending on how you look at it – Peggy suddenly slips two fingers into her without warning.

Angie jerks, breathing, “Oh my god,” pushing backwards against Peggy’s fingers.

Peggy takes the hint and starts pumping her fingers in and out, the slide slick and delicious, twisting her fingers from time to time to create maximum friction. Finally, she brings her other hand down from Angie’s hip to sneak it between her thighs, starting to stroke the pad of her thumb in little circles over her clit. She suddenly replaces her fingers with her tongue, pointing it and pushing in as deep as it will go, steadily fucking her with it. God, it’s so fucking good.

It doesn’t take long before Angie starts letting out little, broken noises, aborted swears interspersed with desperate huffs, and then, right before she loses control and goes over the edge, Peggy suddenly licks upwards over her perineum, just skirting her hole. Angie doesn’t have a clue how Peggy figured out her weak spot so quickly, but she did, and it does the trick. Angie’s face screws up in ecstasy, her entire body contracting, and she comes silently, pushing back against Peggy’s mouth, shaking until she finally collapses onto the pillows below her.

She’s breathing heavily as she trembles through the aftershocks. “Holy fuck,” she says eventually, breathless and a little stunned. She turns her head to look at Peggy sideways, giving a weak chuckle at the slightly smug expression on Peggy’s face. Fair enough, Angie thinks.

Peggy slides down onto the couch beside her, nudging her so that Angie makes space for her to lie down. With a deep, heartfelt sigh, Angie tucks her head under Peggy’s chin, snuggling up to her while her lover wraps an arms around her waist and pulls her close.

“So you’re a cuddler, hm?” Peggy asks, her words muffled in Angie’s wild hair.

“Depends,” Angie says, lifting her shoulder a little in a half shrug.

Peggy looks down at her, reading her face. “On what?” she asks curiously.

“On whether the person I’m with is cuddle-worthy,” Angie smiles, suppressing a yawn.

Chuckling, Peggy kisses the top of her head. “I’m honored that you deem me cuddle-worthy, my dear.”

They’re silent for a few minutes, their pleasantly tired, naked bodies entwined on the couch, until Angie gives a minute shiver.

“You know,” Peggy remarks nonchalantly, “it’s warmer in the bedroom.”

Angie smirks. “Is it now?”

When Peggy just hums, Angie tilts her head so she can press their lips together. For a close-mouthed kiss, it’s surprisingly sensual, their lips moving together softly, slowly. When she pulls back, she whispers against her mouth, “Well, you’d better take me to bed then, gorgeous.”

Peggy doesn’t need to be told a second time.

Read it on AO3 here

[khadij-al-kubra]

Can I Bar-row Your Attend-tion  (ch3)

Pairing: Roman/Patton

Characters: Roman, Patton, Logan, Virgil, Thomas, Joan, Talyn (some OCs)

Word Count: (who’s she? never heard of her? XP)

Summary: Roman and Patton are two bartenders at a local bar & grill with some serious chemistry. However, the only people who don’t realize it are each other, and one of them is in a relationship…on the rocks.

Author’s Note:

Hey friends! What’s this? Two chapters in one week!? Don’t get used to it, sadly. I want to get content out ASAP, but my work schedule sucks. For now though, here’s the next chapter in the Bar & Grill AU, and I am SO thankful to see all the positive feedback so far and am happy you’re enjoying it! If you’d like to be in the tag list for future chapters in the Bar & Grill AU or other works by me, let me know. And as always feel free to leave a comment in the messages or reply if you have any notes or constructive critiques. I’m always open to writing advice. Enjoy!

<--PREVIOUS

Chapter 3: Premium Chemistry, Shaken not Stirred (POV- Roman)

It was a slow Tuesday night at the bar & grill, just a dozen of regulars either having dinner at the tables or drinks at the bar. The Sanders’ employees were by no means slacking on their jobs, yet there was an air of comfortable easement. Which suited Roman fine. He’d just come from another long rehearsal before his shift and frankly it had left him in no mood to be overly charming to any new faces tonight. Fortunately for him, Patton was patient enough to listen to him vent.

“…And THEN Fred—you know, our Angel? Ugh, I can’t believe I have to kiss him—anyways, he goes and tells everyone my idea but then just rephrases it differently and takes credit for it. If that wasn’t bad enough, they all go along with it and tell Fred what a great idea he had, especially our stage manager Kiersten, or should I say Kier-satan! Curse that little lesbian Lucifer—I swear those two divas are in cahoots—but it was MY idea in the FIRST place! UGH I can’t stand them! I may also be one of the hot popular leads in the cast, but at least I’M not a jerkity-jerk-two-faced-jerk…Gaghhh, I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore!”

“Roman, take it easy! I know you’re upset but you’re starting to spill,” said Patton.

Indeed he had overfilled one of the glasses and now there was a small puddle on the counter. Good thing it was just club soda from the nozzle and nothing expensive.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” he said as he fixed the last drink. “Here’s your Old Fashioned, Sal. Just like you.”

“Thanks pal,” said the mustached contractor with a wink.

“And your third Shirley Temple, Imani. You might want to slow down there.”

“Very funny Roman,” said the hijabi. “Save the over dramatics for your rehearsals.”

“I am NOT being over dramatic…not this time anyway,” he pouted, wiping up the spill he’d made with a wet rag.

“Of course you’re not,” said Patton, patting his shoulder sweetly.

Very few things could take even an ounce of enjoyment out of theatrical experiences for Roman, but lying diva cast-mates was one of them. Sadly, he’d been cursed to work with two. In the last few weeks of rehearsals Roman had come to befriend most of the cast and production team. However Fred had proven himself to be an entitled actor that only gave the time of day to his own clique, and Kiersten was—for lack of a Patton approved word—a bitch who was fake nice to everyone only to subtly undermine everyone else’s opinions, even the director! Roman absolutely hated people like that!

“Hey Patton,” said Lizzie, another regular, from the other side of the bar. “Can I get a gin for me and a whiskey sour for my lady love here?”

For once Lizzie was in a black dress and not her usual EMT uniform. Beside her was a curly haired woman in a rose pink dress that complimented her olive skin-tone perfectly. Yas queen, Roman thought. At least someone around here was getting lucky in the love department.

“Coming right up Lizzie! Goodness, it is so nice to finally meet you Maya,” said Patton, ambling over to his customers.

“You know my name?” asked Maya looking pleasantly surprised.

“Oh of course! Lizzie talks about how wonderful you are all the time.” Then Patton gasped loudly. “Is that an engagement ring I spy? CONGRATULATIONS you two! Here, have a celebratory cookie. Aw heck, have two! You deserve it.”

“Thank you,” they said, smiling as Patton handed them each two mini chocolate chip cookies from his apron stash.

As Roman watched his co-worker he couldn’t help but silently gush. This was the thing he loved most about Patton- how sincerely kind he was. The bespectacled angel never put on airs or had ulterior agendas. There wasn’t a single catty bone in the cat lover’s huggable body (ironic given how allergic Patton was to cats). If he listened to or remembered a little detail about you, it was because he genuinely cared about you as a human being. And for Roman, who worked in the competitive and often shady world of theater, that was a rare and beautiful quality in a person.

Everything about Patton was beautiful.

“I think that spot there is clean enough lover boy,” said Sal, his mustache twitched in a smirk.

“Right. Thanks Sal—wait, what do you mean lover boy?” he asked.

“Listen, Ro,” Patton said coming back over. “I understand why you’re so upset and your feelings are completely valid. But you can’t let people like that get you down and ruin the whole experience for you. That’s how bullies like them win. You get along with the rest of the cast, right?”

“Yes, they’re fantastic,” he said. “Our Mimi and I have even become good friends.”

“Aaand your director is nice and fair, right?”

“Very. He’s downright brilliant.”

“And you’re having fun being part of this show, right?”

“Of course! RENT is an institution!”

“Then that’s all that should matter! Just do your best, ignore the rest, and remember to have fun with it!”

Roman chuckled at Patton’s dad-like gesture. So adorable.

“I suppose you’re right Patton. It’s just frustrating. I can’t stand deceitful people like that. They really get under my skin! ...Anyways, enough about my drama. How are you Patton? Anything new in your life?”

For some reason Patton seemed surprised by the question. It’s not as though Roman wasn’t interested in the other’s life. In fact, he was very interested in it. Wanted to be a part of it even…part of his world. Now is not the time for mental Disney references, Roman. Then Patton beamed. Dear lord, its like he was made of sunshine.

“I’m doing pretty great actually,” said Patton. “In fact, I’ve started volunteering at the local animal shelter on my days off. It’s not Veterinary school, but pretty close enough.And I still get to help cute little animals.”

Of course he would spend his rare free-time helping others. He truly was an angel sent from the heavens. ‘That’s wonderful Patton! I’m happy for you, truly.”

“Thanks Roman. That…means a lot to me.”

“And how’s it been with my temporary replacement?”

“Not bad. He gets along with the customers well enough, although he can’t hold a candle to you.”

“Well of course,” Roman waved his hand dramatically. “I’m basically Lumière.”

Patton giggled. “Actually, aside from looking alike, you wouldn’t think Remy and Logan were related. He’s a lot more laid back. Although he does have a habit of showing up late for work, and I think he might have a bit of a coffee addiction.”

“A bit?” Lizzie called from across the bar. “Please, that guy probably has more coffee in his veins than blood!”

Roman laughed. “Coffee can be pretty addicting. That’s why I switched to drinking chai lattes. They certainly taste a lot better too.”

“Huh. Interesting…”

For some reason Patton seemed to be staring at Roman’s mouth. Good lord, did he have something in his teeth? He turned his head away to slyly check. Phew! All good.

“Well at least one of us is getting along with our new co-workers. Unlike me,” he grumbled. Stupid Fred. Stupid Kiersten.

“Aw Roman, isn’t there something I can do to cheer you up?” asked Patton.

“I doubt it, but I appreciate the gesture Patton.”

Roman sighed, propped his elbow on the table and rested his cheek in hand. As much as he loved being in RENT rehearsals it was taking a chuck out of his treasured time with Patton. Now not only was he forced to deal with two diva bitches, but also someone else was having time with his Patton, probably falling for him just as much as Roman had and waiting to make a move. What if Remy charmed Patton enough that he’d actually break-up with Dio for the guy? What if he was more Patton’s type, more worthy of the sweet man’s love than him? What if his replacement was more handsome than he was!?

Wait what am I thinking? There’s no one more handsome than me. Still… Suddenly there was a staccato tapping on his shoulder. Roman turned from his musings to see Patton grinning at him. The man was practically vibrating with giddiness.

“Can I just, say something crazy?” he asked.

At this line Roman shot up like a meerkat. No. He’s not… Patton wiggled his eyebrows at him conspiratorially, biting his soft looking bottom lip in excitement. He is! Roman did a quick sweep of the bar & grill to make sure there was no sign of Logan. Lenient as their friend boss might be, he’d never let them get away with an impromptu Disney number while they were supposed to be working. Luckily Logan wasn’t around. Probably still in his office. Good.

Roman gave Patton his most dashing smile. “I love crazy!”

“All my life has been a series of doors in my face

and then suddenly I bump into you,” Patton sang.

Roman joined in on cue. “I was thinking the same thing! ‘Cause like,

I’ve been searching my whole life to find my own place.

And maybe it’s the party talking or the chocolate fondue.”

“But with you,” Patton did a slide to the right.

“But with you” Roman slid to the left. “I found my place.”

“I see your face.”

On ‘face’ Patton lightly booped his nose and then stepped out from the bar. Roman followed suit. They had more room to move with and around each other.

“And it’s nothing like I’ve ever known before!

Love is an open door!

Love is an open door!”

Roman knew that Patton could sing, having hummed Disney songs together before, but he’d never had the pleasure of hearing it in full. Patton’s lovely tenor voice blended perfectly with his own baritone vocals. They even nailed the harmonies!

“Love is an open door!”

“With you!” Patton pointed.

“With you!” Roman pointed back.

“With you!”

“With you!”

“Love is an open door.”

Roman couldn’t help laughing out loud. Patton’s joy and whimsy truly were infectious.

“I mean it’s crazy.”

“What?”

“We finish each other’s—

“Sandwiches!” Thomas shouted from over at the kitchen window, holding a plate of club sandwiches.

“That’s what I was going to say!” Roman called back indignantly. 

Then he felt Patton pulling him by the hands to the center of the room as he skipped backwards. “I never met someone”

“Who thinks so much like me!”

“Jinx! Jinx again!” The two grinned as they nailed the pinky swears.

“Our mental synchronization

Can have but one explanation.”

“You”

“And I”

“Were”

“Just

Meant to be!”

Perhaps spurred on by the theatricality of the moment (definitely not his secret feelings), Roman dared to take Patton’s hand and wrap his arm around the other’s waist. Then he led Patton into a waltz. It was a bit sloppy but in a silly lighthearted way. He adored the flustered look on Patton’s face.

“Say goodbye”

“Say goodbye”

“To the pain of the past.

We don’t have to feel it anymore!”

In the back of his mind Roman knew that they were drawing attention to themselves but he didn’t care. Only Patton was in his world in that moment, and thus his world was bright and joyful and perfect. Patton was perfect.

“Love is an open door!

Love is an open door!

Life can be so much more!”

“With you!”

“With you!”

“With you!”

“Love is an open doooor…” Patton finished the song with a giggle. God I love this man.

Suddenly the place was filled with applause. Roman swore he even heard someone whistle from the kitchen. It wasn’t very loud given that there weren’t many people at Sanders’ tonight, but the energy was certainly boisterous enough to match even a full house. For some reason, Talyn was handing money over to Joan. Even Virgil seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and was clapping as he leaned against the wall. Where did he come from? I swear that guy is like a shadow sometimes.

That’s when Roman realized he and Patton were still holding onto each other. They were face to flushed smiling face. So close he could see the pure honey color of Patton’s eyes. Roman could lean in, feel just how soft those sweet lips truly were if he wanted to, and dear lord did he want to. So far yet so…close…

STOP! STOP! HE’S TAKEN YOU IDIOT! The flaring red alarm in Roman’s brain brought him back to the reality of the situation. Roman stopped himself and settled for just smiling at Patton. Way too close Roman. You nearly ruined the best thing you have with the best person in your life. Dio doesn’t know how lucky he is.

“Just KISS already ya goofballs!” Dakota shouted from across the room.

Terrence shut him up by smacking him on the back of the head form the table opposite him, but it had already been said. It was out there now, spoken to the universe. Roman’s entire face was burning and his co-worker was just as red beneath those freckled cheeks he wanted to kiss so badly. Oh great! You’ve embarrassed him! He immediately let go of Patton’s hands, laughing it off awkwardly. He already missed the warmth of those soft gentle hands. If only his heart would stop fluttering.

“Ahem.” Oh no.

Roman slowly turned around to find Logan standing there. His arms were crossed, his face stone-like, and yet to Romans surprise he didn’t seem angry. In fact, he would swear there was an amused glint in his dark eyes.

“Well. That was quite the performance. Highly unprofessional in this setting,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

Patton stepped in front of Roman, arm held out protectively. “It was my fault Logan. I was the one that started singing. Roman had a really bad day and everyone was already taken care of. I just wanted to cheer him u—

Logan held up a hand, and Patton closed his mouth with a pop. “However…given that it is nearly empty in here, save for our regular customers and they all seemed to enjoy the show…I shall let it slide this one time.”

“Wow. Thank you Lo—“

“Just don’t make a habit of it, or else it’s dish duty for the both of you.”

Roman gulped, picturing all those burnt cheese encrusted pans. His nails would never survive. “Understood specs.”

“Excellent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there is a shoebox full of bank statements in my office that need organizing.”

Logan walked away with an almost giddy smile. He really is a happy little nerd at heart. Roman shook his head fondly as he and Patton returned to the bar.

“Nice little show you put on,” said Virgil, suddenly standing at Roman’s end of the bar.

“Gah,” Roman jumped. “We really need to put a bell on you, shadowling.”

“Hi Virgil!”

“Sup bro?”

“Need me to place an order for you?”

“Nah don’t sweat it. I already asked Thomas while you guys were having your Disney mania moment. You two were getting pretty cozy at the end there.”

Roman’s ears felt hot again and he shot a panicked look at Patton. The fatherly figure either hadn’t heard that last part or was pretending otherwise. How DARE Virgil embarrass his own stepbrother like that! Wait, is he blushing too? Is that a good sign or a bad one? Okay, just play it cool Roman.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous, Cruella de Virgil. Patton was only trying to lift my spirits after an arduous rehearsal, which he did as always. Uh-I-I mean-like you always do with any of your friends! Nothing special or non-consensually romantic about it!”

Roman laughed weakly but thought he’d played it off well. Patton no longer looked embarrassed at least. Although…his smile seemed a bit off.

“Yep! Just helping out a…friend,” said Patton.

“I do feel better now. Truly,” said Roman. He covered Patton’s hand with his own and gave a reassuring squeeze, knowing how much the man loved physical affection. “Thank you for lifting my spirits Patton. It means a lot.”

“Anytime Roman,” said Patton.

“I hate to interrupt fellas,” said Sal, “But we’re out of beer nuts here. Mind getting some more?”

“Woops! Sorry ‘bout that kiddo,” he said to the older gentleman. “We should have another can of them in the supply room somewhere. Be right back.”

Roman watched the pseudo padre practically prance to the back storage, unable to ignore how good those khaki jeans looked on him from behind. He felt ashamed at his having the male gaze but DAMN IT ALL, how could a man be both sexy and cute at the same time? That’s not FAIR!

“Geez, you do have it bad, don’t you Princy?” said Virgil.

“Whaaaat? Pshh me? Have feelings for Patton? Knowing full well he’s my co-worker and already taken? You-you impude my honor! I-I do not secretly…love…Patton…”

“Falsehood,” said Logan passing by with a box in his hands.

This had Virgil and pretty much everyone else seated at the bar in a guffaw. He shot them all dagger eyes but even he knew this was a weak response. Heck, if the cyborg had picked up on the feelings he’d tried to hide then clearly he hadn’t done a very good job. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Is it really that obvious?” he asked.

“YES,” They all answered.

“Subtlety isn’t exactly your strong suit,” said Imani.

“That’s true,” he sighed. “Wait, you don’t think Patton—

“Don’t worry bud, he doesn’t know. I love my brother but he’s about as oblivious as you are dramatic.” 

Roman gave a fake-offended gasp, but even he knew it was a gesture weakened by his relief. Thank goodness Patton was still preoccupied in storage. Come to think of it, he’s been going back there a lot lately…I hope he’s okay. Probably just sneaking off to text his boyfriend, the lucky bastard.

“Seriously though,” Virgil said, “you really should just kiss him already. Or at least tell him how you feel. You know, carpe diem and all that.”

“Virgil…I’d be lying if I said doing either of those things hasn’t occupied my every waking daydream since I met that beautiful man!” Roman sighed loudly, setting down the towel he’d thoroughly wrung out. “But I don’t dare to risk ruining our friendship if he doesn’t feel the same.”

“Some risks are worth taking. And that’s coming from the guy who won’t risk going outside if there’s even a slight chance of scattered thundershowers.”

“But…your tagger symbol is your initials inside of a storm cloud.”

“The irony doesn’t escape me.”

“Besides,” said Lizzie, “I don’t think it’d be too big a risk since Patton clearly feels the same about you.”

“Wait, wha-what?” A glimmer of hope rose up in Roman chest.

“Hey, what the heck Lizzie? I have a bet going on!” Imani shouted from the other end of the bar. Wait, what bet?

“So do I sister!” Lizzie playfully stuck her tongue out at the Muslim woman then kissed her fiancé.

“Wait, wait, back up! What the heckity-heck with five abs in one peck—

“That’s a visual,” said Virgil.

“—makes you think Patton could possibly have feelings for me? Are you certain? Did he say something to you?”

“Well no, not in words per se. But he sure does show it pretty darn clearly,” said Sal as he took a swig of his drink. Then he held it out, silently asking the bartender for another.

“How so?” Roman asked as he mixed another Old Fashioned.

“For one thing he gets real touchy feely with you. Always going in for hugs and squeezing your arm and the like.”

“Patton’s always like that. He’s a very affectionate man.” One of his most endearing traits, Roman thought.

“True, but with you he’s extra,” said Sal as he took his drink.

“Plus, whenever you show up for you shift, he gets super bubbly,” said Lizzie. “Even by Patton standards.

“Not to mention you two just fucking waltzed around the room together,” said Joan as they passed by with two orders of nachos.

“Aaand he sang a Disney song just to cheer you up,” said Talyn as they brought Terrence and Dakota their checks.

“And don’t forget I grew up with the guy,” said Virgil. “I recognize his puppy-love face and he definitely gets it around you.”

“But,” said Iman with a resigned huff. “You want to know the biggest tip off? You are the only person here who he never calls kiddo.”

Roman’s mouth was opened prepared to protest, but this last bit of evidence took the wind right out of his chimes. He couldn’t remember Patton ever referring to him by his favorite fatherly term of endearment. Did that truly mean he saw Roman as more than a friend? Could he really be lucky enough to have somehow earned the affection of someone as kind, beautiful and wonderful as Patton Cline? Could the light of his life truly see something in him worthy of loving? If that’s the case then maybe Roman did have a chance! Maybe they could be more than friends, maybe—

“I…I can’t.” Roman signed, shoulders slumping with lost hope. “You’re right, I should be honest with my feelings. And perhaps what you say about Patton may be true. But there’s one glaring obstacle you’re all forgetting about; he already has a boyfriend. An awful creepy one but nevertheless…he is taken. And as much as I hate my snake-faced rival, Dio is the one Patton has chosen to be with. Not me...which means that is what he wants most.” 

Roman did his best to swallow back tears threatening to make a jailbreak from his eyes. “So long as that is the case, I will not disrespect Patton’s choice by coming between them. That would be dishonorable of me and unfair to Patton. And I love him too much to ever do anything that could possibly hurt him.”

He could practically feel all of their eyes on him, but none of them said anything. They merely turn back to their drinks or meals. Roman was glad of it. He didn’t think he could handle them trying to convince him otherwise. He was more than willing to suffer in silence if it means doing right by the man he loved.

When he looked up at Virgil though, his best friend, there was a look of understanding in the artist’s eyes behind his bangs. Perhaps even respect.

“Fair enough,” Virgil said.

“Order up Virgil,” said Thomas.

He held out the to-go bag, for once leaning outside of the kitchen doors instead of the windowsill. The cook was giving Roman a look of sympathy. Had he been eavesdropping between orders?

“Thanks Thomas,” said Virgil grabbing the bag. “I already had Logan ring up my bill when I came in, so I’m just gonna duck out.”

“Okay. See you next time then. And Roman…hang in there buddy.” 

Then the young cook retreated back into the kitchen. Yep. He definitely eavesdropped. Surprise, surprise. Was everyone in Sanders’ privy to the Chilean soap opera that had suddenly become his love life? Or lack thereof.

“For what it’s worth Roman…I’d be cool with it.” Virgil scratched the back of his neck beneath his hood. “I think you’d be really good for my brother.”

“Wow...Thanks Virge,” said Roman, humbled by the anxious man. “That really means a lot.”

“Whatever,” Virgil scoffed. “Just know that if you do ever break his heart, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Roman chuckled. “Believe me Dark Knight, I’d kick my own ass first before I let that happen.”

“Good.” Virgil put on his large headphones and two-finger saluted him. “Later.”

Roman watched his friend leave Sanders’ and looked through the glass window as Virgil parkoured away, his black clad figure merging into the dark of the night. It was nice to know that Roman had his approval, though it hardly mattered. Not while Patton wanted to be with someone else.

“I’m back!” said Patton.

“Gah!” Roman jumped a little at Patton suddenly appearing behind him. Seems both brothers have a talent for appearing out of nowhere.

“And I brought beer nuts.” He poured them from the large metal cylinder into the small table bowls at the bar. “Here you go kiddos. What’d I miss?”

“Nothing! Nothing of interesting. Certainly no missed confessions or anything…Uh you sure were back there a long time. Did you get lost or something?”

Patton smiled back at him, but it wasn’t his usual ear-to-ear smile. If Roman didn’t know any better he’d say his eyes looked a bit red behind those glasses.

“Nah, I had to make a quick phone call to…anywho, it doesn’t matter. So didja miss me Roman?”

Roman. Not kiddo. ”Always Patton.”

His partner in bartending crime and unknowing thief of his heart chuckled in that childlike manner he had. Then he turned back to work, cleaning glasses and humming the song they’d sung together only moments ago. Even as he did such a simple task Roman couldn’t help admiring him. Those fairy dust freckles, kind eyes, soft looking waves of hair, and warm smile…he truly was the sun in his sky; So close and beautiful, yet so very far away.

Roman sighed and said softly under his breath, “More than you’ll ever know.”

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