#hoping that inspiration strikes when im out shopping for the others

[nebulaedaniel]

christmas shopping is so stressful wtf i hate it

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online Matchup

Summery: Y/n thought it would be fun signing up on dating sites, just for shits and giggles. Who knew that was one of the best decisions they made, especially when they're having too much fun talking to a certain Jason Todd.

warning: swearing, unedited I think, mentions of cancer, fluff, lots of back and forth teasing

word count: 3072

a/n: I promised myself I'd post a fic today, though it's not the one I wanted, I hope you enjoy regardless.

ao3

Series master list

Inspired by this:

September 19

You matched with Jason Todd, say hello!

Y/N So, when you say you're looking for a partner in crime Do you mean, like, rob a bank and fight batman? Or like, cozy up on the couch with the fireplace going while it's raining while we try to finish the books we bought? Cuz, I can do the second one I dont think i could fight batman or any of his kids Or even what to, you know? They’re kind of scary …. well maybe one of them i would fight I say fight but its wont be Oh man, I am so sorry about this. This is not how i wanted to tell you that i am a rambler I’m just gonna see myself out Goodday

Jason Ngl this made me laugh So who would you fight but not really?

Y/N You can’t honestly be interested in who I would fight? No way

Jason Way you seemed interesting and i want to get to know you

Y/N … okay but you need to answer my question first

Jason: Lol fair. And it would be the second one. I too wouldn’t fight batman but for different reasons

Y/N: So you're a fighter?

Jason Nope This isn’t how it works

y/n: Fine but remember, you asked for this

Jason: Okay but it’s not like you have a plan on fighting all the batmans kids so i think im safe

y/n: …….

Jason: Oh shit you do?!

y/n: I plead the fifth

Jason: You just got a little more interesting

y/n: I’m going home

Jason: Damn and here i thought i’d finally found the love of my life

y/n: No, nope Don’t say that The more you talk to me, you’ll find the real me and then want nothing to do with me

Jason: Let me be the judge of that We matched for a reason and i want to find out Don’t you?

Y/n: Aren’t you a charmer Okay fine. 20 questions?

Jason: Sure but after you tell what you would do in a fight with the batfam

y/n: I was hoping you would drop this, damn Alright, you get the honour of telling me who you want to know 

Jason: Nightwing

Y/N: Really? Okay. well first i was thinking of just flirting my way out, but he looks like he’d flirt back and i’m not the best at it to begin with, so I’d just get all flustered Bro’s an acrobat, i aint running from him. I aint running from all of them if i’m being honest. Nah for nightwing, he strikes me as a dork in some way. I’ll talk my way out of it. And if there’s something i’m good at, it’s talking.

Jason: So your plan is to talk circles around him?

Y/N: Yes Once i figure out what type of dork he is, imma talk until he gets confused and then i’ll run away Bro won’t see it coming

Jason: I should tell my brother He’s a huge nightwing fan

y/n: Nooooooooooo No one needs to know i don’t need other people to know how weird i am Especially your family I don't want my first meeting to be ‘hey, you’re that chick that’ll talk nightwing to confusion. Man that was a great laugh’

Jason: You think this will go that far?

Y/N: Honestly? No But i have hope You?

Jason: Ya Anyways, red robin?

Y/N: You skipped red hood

Jason: Saving him for last

Y/N: Fair Hes smart, can’t really talk myself out of that one nor would I flirt He is too young and not my type So i use his weakness

Jason: There’s no way you know that

Y/N: No but I know the dude doesn’t have a regular sleep schedule.

Jason: How do you know that?

Y/N: Back when I worked at a coffee shop, I took his order a few times and watched him down his coffee while it was still hot I asked him once, why? Dude said, and i kid you not ‘sleep is for the week and coffee is god’ Ngl, i laughed and gave him a free coffee just for making my day

Jason: Shit day?

Y/N: Ugh you had no idea. I had two tests that day and a term paper due but i couldn’t get it printed in time so that was late Didn’t help i woke up on the couch, and my body didn’t like that

Jason: You in school?

Y/n: Ya, only two years in but i want it to end

Jason: Not a fan?

Y/N: Eh When did we start playing 20 questions?

Jason: Right, we we suppose to play after you finished your hypotheticals

Y/N: Curses Me and my big mouth Who’s next?

Jason: We’re still on RR

Y/N: Blah right I’ll just bride him with coffee and make a run for it

Jason: The fact that that could actually work is scary Are you sure you’re not a villain?

Y/N: Nope just an engineering student who could fight god with enough coffee and no sleep Honestly, RR’s my spirit animal

Jason: Robin

Y/N: Are you nuts? I’d turn myself in and then some ain’t no way i’m coming up with a plan for him He scares me

Jason: Why?

Y/N: I watched him fight a few times The dude has enough skill and rage to fight the justice league if need be I bet he could kill too He looks like it

Jason: Okay you're not wrong But if you had to come up with a plan, what would it be?

Y/N: Cannot believe you’re making me do this Fine Little dude may have a hard exterior, but years of reading and knowing people like him, he has a soft spot and use that against him

Jason: Do you know what that is?

Y/N: … I am going to die If robin finds this, I am dying by either embarrassment or by his hands

Jason: Come on, you gotta tell me I’m at the edge of my seat here

Y/N: Fine, but if i’m going down I’m taking you with me

Jason: But we’ve only just met

Y/N: Maybe so, but I actually like you But i’m starting to doubt

Jason: Aw come on, little bird

Y/N: Damnit I happened to be walking home and watched him sit in an alley playing with cats Must have been a slow night, he was there for hours

Jason: It was the little bird wasn’t it?

Y/N: So who’s next? Spoiler? Batgirl? The signal? Red hood? Oracle? Well, I wouldn’t fight Oracle, I don’t know who they are but I know they would win so I’m going to stay clear of them No, you know what? I can tell you my answer for all three of them I’d bribe them with cookies or something. Idk if they would take it but that’s my plan. Just straight up bribery. Who could resist cookies?

Jason: That’s your answer to everything huh?

Y/n: Yup

Jason: Even with RH?

Y/n: … He’s different

Jason: How so?

Y/N: Mm, okay but your not allowed to judge Or laugh

Jason: Should I be scared?

Y/N: Depends Anyways, i have a crush on him So I would shoot my shot and if i get turned down then at least I tried

Jason: You have a crush on Red Hood? Out of everyone there is, why him?

Y/N: You’re judging! You said you wouldn’t

Jason: I didn’t say shit Now tell me why him?

Y/N: Hell if I know But have you seen him?

Jason: I have but you don’t even see his face

Y/N: That just adds to the mystic that is Red Hood I just know he’s got a good looking face underneath the mask

Jason: You really are something else

Y/N: Sorry I’m a big fan of RH And I guess I like the thought of a mystery So if you want to end this now, I understand

Jason: Who said anything about ending this?

Y/N: Don’t know, a lot of people who seem interested in me kind of leave after they find out Either they don’t want to compete with a crush that I know have zero chance at or they just don’t like red hood and being with a fan isn’t something they want

Jason: They’re stupid I ain’t leaving for that And who knows, maybe you can shoot your shot one day

Y/N: HA That’s not going to happen I freeze up when I’m near someone I like I’d probably stutter and say something embarrassing and run away No thank you

Jason: Thought it out huh

Y/N: You have no idea Anyways, 20 questions?

Jason: I did promise You can ask a couple?

Y/N: Favourite colour?

Jason: Really? After what I did to you, your going to ask something simple

Y/N: Answer the question Jason

Jason: Green

Y/N: Thank you Favourite food?

Jason: What’s with the easy questions? Give me some hard hitting personal ones

Y/N: I will in time Now, answers please

Jason: Chili dogs

Y/N: Those things are gross

Jason: Hey, they are the pinnacle of street food You just have to find the right places

Y/N: Mmkay, if you say so

Jason: Alright, gonna have to take you to one of my favourite places

Y/N: That right?

Jason: Only way to convince you Where do you go to school?

Y/N: Looking forward to it Gotham University, you?

Jason: Not yet, but trying to Kind of hard when you were declared dead for a while

Y/N: Fucking what?! Gonna need that story

Jason: Nope, gotta reach at least level 10 in friendship to unlock it

YN: Damnit

Jason: Sorry little bird

Y/N: You didn’t need to say it so casually tho Who just mentions, ‘yeah i’ve been declared dead but haven’t done anything’ into a conversation And not elaborate on it This is bullshit, sir

Jason: It has happened to people

Y/N: Yeah, but they tell people why You just Dropped a bomb like that and say, not yet Whatever, i’ll drop it

Jason: You sure? Sounds like it’ll bother you until you get the story

Y/N: Yes I’m sure Yes it will bother me But like I said, I like you and I don’t want to be pushy I’m not a pushy person

Jason: Awe does someone have a wittle crush

Y/N: No You got nothing on RH

Jason: Now that just hurts, little bird

Y/N: Don’t you have a question you need to ask?

Jason: Are you flustered? I feel like you’re flustered

Y/N: Amazing weather we’re having Despite the rain and all

Jason: Alright, I’ll stop with the teasing For now Born in Gotham?

Y/N: No I am from Metropolis, moved here for school

Jason: Any other reason?

Y/N: Yeah, Superman kept destroying my apartment building I’ve moved three times and somehow, he always finds the building I’m living in Minute I graduated high school, I moved

Jason: But why Gotham?

Y/N: Gotham intrigues me

Jason: You’re so weird

Y/N: Thank you Since you’re not in school, what do you do?

Jason: Mechanic Didn’t really want my dad’s help so I’m finding my way in life

Y/N: Not a great relationship?

Jason: You can say that So, engineering huh?

Y/N: Yup I love building and taking things apart Have since I was little

Jason: Gonna change the world?

Y/N: Imma try but can’t really do that while working at luthor corp

Jason: Please tell me your joking

Y/N: Ah, not a fan I see Can’t blame you but I am not It was one of the first places I’ve applied to and hear back right away I accepted before getting my other interviews

Jason: jumped the gun a bit 

Y/N: Yeah I did. I wished I didn’t but oh well I’ll find something better if this doesn’t work out

Jason: Why don’t you quit now?

Y/N: I am a broke college student who needs money If I quit now, I’m not sure if I find someone to take me Plus the hours working there are helping my schooling, so it’s kinda late to switch jobs

Jason: Can’t believe I’m saying this but try wanye enterprise I hear they’re good to work for

Y/n: I plan too eventually But at the moment, this is fine The hours I have now works with my school hours

Jason: How’s working there anyways?

Y/N: Not too bad I guess I’m allowed to work on my own projects as long as I work on the assigned ones The people are nice and all but it could be better

Jason: But you don’t like it there?

Y/N: I don’t like Lex Luthor and what he represents I guess

Jason: So you believe that he’s trying to take down superman?

Y/N: I’ve seen one of their fights Nothing to believe

Jason: Must of been some fight

Y/N: Mm So What did you mean, I can’t believe I’m saying this?

Jason: You can’t be weird about it

Y/N: Oh? I am intrigued

Jason: You’re making it weird

Y/N: I am not It’s not like I said you have a crush on Bruce Wayne or something That would have been weird

Jason: Is this how you felt when I teased you?

Y/N: Paybacks a bitch isn’t it?

Jason: I hate you

Y/N: Okay

Jason: I do

Y/N: You’re deflecting

Jason: Oh my god Fine He’s my dad, well adoptive dad

Y/N: Cool

Jason: That’s it? You’re not going to fawn over him being my dad? Ask me questions about what he’s like? Ask if the tabloids are true?

Y/N: Nope Tbh, I don’t care for Bruce Like, I applaud him for what he’s trying to do for Gotham and all But, seeing him on every magazine everywhere I go gets a bit tiring He’s just another dude that people are obsessed with Who cares if he’s rich Besides, I’m talking to you aren’t I? Who cares about Bruce Wayne I wanna know Jason Todd

Jason: You know? I think I may actually be in love 

Y/N: Stooooooop You can’t say things like that

Jason Why? Cuz you get flustered so easily?

Y/N And if I do?

Jason Gotta say it’s my favourite past time

Y/N So, the reason you don’t have a great relationship with Bruce Does it have anything to do with you being dead or something?

Jason Wow WOW I cannot believe you We go from what's your favourites to hard hitting questions huh? I see how it is

Y/N I told you they were coming

Jason I just didn’t think you’d use it as a deflection tactic

Y/N Yeah I want to say sorry But I’m not I’m sure you would use anything to get attention from yourself

Jason Can’t do positive attention

Y/N Eh

Jason I hear you And yes it is part of the reason why me and Bruce are not in good terms

Y/N Mm, I’m sure he’s trying

Jason In his own Bruce way yeah

Y/N Are you?

Jason I like to believe I am Why the interest?

Y/N I don’t know Maybe it’s the fact that my relationship with my dad isn’t the best

Jason You’re dad’s not Bruce Wayne’s too?

Y/N HA Then I would not be talking to you in this fashion

Jason That is true So then what?

Y/N My mom says we are too similar to each other Got the same attitude and all I believe it Growing up, it was all your useless and you’ll amount to nothing Or he’ll ignore me, and I’d prefer that over the degrading Only time he’d show his affection was if he was drunk

Jason Wow Sorry 

Y/N Yeah It’s gotten better since I moved out Now it’s there, and I’m still processing 

Jason Processing what?

Y/N Mm It’s a pretty heavy topic to get into with someone you just met

Jason Can’t be worse than me being dead for months

Y/N Months?! How many?

Jason Oh damn You are a lot easier to talk with then who I normally socialize with

Y/N I shall take that as a complement

Jason As you should And no, I will not be elaborating 

Y/N Alright fair But I will get the story

Jason Mm, I’m sure you will So? Gonna answer my question

Y/N Last year he was diagnosed with cancer Not sure what it is, but it already spread

Jason How long did the doctors give him?

Y/N He didn’t want to know Can’t blame him for 

Jason Sorry about that

Y/N Yeah

Jason You don’t sound to hurt about it

Y/N Like I said, still processing it so I don’t know how to feel With the childhood I had, I don’t know how too But I know when it comes down to it, my emotions will hit me like a truck when the day comes

Jason Well, soak up as much time as you can before you have any regrets

Y/N Trying to He is just making it impossible Whoo boy! That was a lot of emotion for one night I think I’m going to eat some ice cream and binge watch my favourite show

Jason Sounds fun, wish I could join but I promised my brothers with help

Y/N How many do you have?

Jason Do you read anything about the Wayne family?

Y/N Nope What I know about him is what is whispered between my classes and work and even then I don’t listen to them

Jason Really committed on not caring about him, huh Four brothers and three sisters

Y/N Big family

Jason Bruce likes to adopt

Y/N I can tell Anyways, have fun tonight

Jason I’ll try Would you be interested in talking some more?

Y/N I would love to

[adventuringblind]

Hi I saw your requests are open you don’t have to write anything if you don’t want to but I had this idea and I wanted to share

I was thinking of meting Charles on Monaco maybe during Sumer break or something, and being a little homesick so he decides to take us to a bookstore (sorry I just like to rad a lot you can change the place) and just talking about like a book he likes and just sitting on the floor with him looking for something to read and getting romantic

Idk if it makes sense but thank you and have a nice day/night

Home is Where You Are

Charles leclerc x reader

Genre: fluff

Request: Yes! I hope you enjoy it, I thought the idea was super cute! I'm open for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, George, and Daniel. Also, up for poly fics if anyone is interested. (If you have too much love to go around, clap your hands)

Summary: living with Charles is a dream come true. Longing for home, though, can strike anyone. Good thing he's there to help you through it until you can find time to go visit.

Warnings: home sickness, straight fluff

Notes: written in second person. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Also, I've sent up my account to let tips be enabled. I was debating whether or not to say this because i dont want to sound like im begging, but frankly, people opinions do not matter me me. If you like my writing and want to support me, please consider tipping my posts or my blog. I put a lot of effort into my writing, and it would mean the world to me. Obviously, I won't have my feelings hurt if you ignor this, but I wanted to put it out there.

Masterlist

You and Charles had been together for a while now. Managing to do some long distance when you couldn't travel with him.

Now you were engaged, and you said yes. Knowing you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

You traveled more now. Finding yourself in different countries for the majority of the year. But you always went back home when you could. The family and familiarity bringing you comfort.

When Charles asked you to move in with him, you'd been happy. The two of you now completely together. Ready to share your lives with each other.

You were lucky you could take your job anywhere. The traveling often helping provide inspiration for your novel.

Charles made sure you felt comfortable in his, now yours as well, apartment. Making sure you had your favorite foods. He purchased an entire bookshelf just for you. He even stockpiled the apartment with soft blanket.

It was a dream come true for you.

You loved it. Waking up with Charles. Eating breakfast with him. Not having to FaceTime him to say goodnight for half the year.

When the summer break for formula 1 came around, you found yourself wanting to go back to your home country. You'd been back in Monaco for less than a week, but the days had you missing things you didn't realize you would.

You liked it in Monaco. It's your home now. But it didn't stop your mind from wandering back to the streets you grew up on. To your friends and family. The shops you frequented.

That's how Charles found you. Sitting at the table, staring into your cup of tea. Lost in the world of your subconscious.

"Mon Amour? Are you alright?"

His voice dragged out out of your thoughts. Your eyes dragging themselves to his face as he found a spot next to you.

He knew something was wrong. There was really no point in trying to lie when it was written all over your body.

You run your finger around the rim of your glass. Taking comfort in Charles nimble fingers running up and down your arm.

"Just a bit homesick, I guess." You confessed. Sighing at your relentless thoughts. Pulling your heart deeper into its sad state.

Charles hums in response. Considering what you'd said to him. "I think I know how to cheer you up." He smirks.

Charles couldn't take you back to your home country currently. You'd been working ridiculously hard, and he'd been busy doing sim work. He'd get you there soon, but for now, he'd settle for trying to get your mind off things.

An hour later, you were dressed and walking down the streets of Monaco. Nonclue where Charles was taking you. Just giggling as he held your hand and pulled you along with him. The two of you are making conversation about anything that pops into your heads.

Charles was basking in the warmth of your smile. So much so that he almost missed his intended destination. A little corner store with a vintage looking sign reading 'Nook's Books'.

"Here we are." He smiled and opened the door for you. A little bell rang to alert the owner that someone had entered.

Charles watched as your mouth opened in awe. Taking in the shelves lined top to bottom with books new and old. "I thought you might like it."

"Why did I never know about this?"

"It's hidden away, so those who don't know the city will have a harder time finding it. It's our own little corner of peace." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was going to surprise you right before the wedding."

It didn't take long for you to grab Charles' hand and lead him down the rows of books.

You'd found many books that you liked and had picked a spot on the floor to look through them.

Charles couldn't help but admire you. On the floor surrounded by books. You looked adorable in his eyes.

He plopped down next to you and spread out his arms and legs. Inviting you without words to come rest your body against his. You happy oblige. Crawling into the safety of his arms.

You spent hours in the small store. Charles listening intently as you either talked about a book or read chapters from one.

The twobof you finally left when the store was about to close. Having spent so much time there that it was now dark outside. The streets illuminated with the orangey hue of lampposts.

Charles spun you around as you walked, Making you giggle. Completely unbothered by the nightlife of Monaco.

When you two made it to the outside of the apartment building, Charles pulled you into him.

"I know I can't get you back to your family right now, but are you feeling a bit better?"

"Yes, thank you, for everything." Your eyes met his soft gaze.

"No thanks needed. I was simply doing my job." He chuckled. Leaning in closer to you.

Finally, his lips landed on yours. A loving kiss shared between you two. But this time, when he kissed you, you knew Charles was your home.

[theshipminer]

My totally original Undertale AU

Okay, okay. I just thought up of the perfect Undertale AU. I was a little inspired by various creepastas like Sonic.exe from friday night funkin. So behold, my horror AU for Undertale:

The premise is the same. Frisk, the human falls into the underground.

As they explore the underground, Flowey suddenly shows up! He acts all friendly, but SURPRISE!! He's actually evil and fucked up!

"OOooooo Im gonna kill yooouuuuuuuu"

Luckily Toriel saves the child. Phew!

The game plays out as normal, except... a murderous entity controls Frisk to... kill every1!!

BLOOOOOODDDDD (or dust, or whatever. Pretty sure monsters can't bleed.)

THEN, when Frisk goes to exit the ruins, THE ENTITY KILLs TORIEL. SHE STARTS BLEEDING HYPERREALISTIC BLOOD FROM HER EYES.

No she doesn't, but she does smile creepily before dying. Of course, YMMV on that one.

After exiting the ruins, you meet Sans. Unlike in a normal route, Frisk doesn't react to Sans' initial joke. They also constantly step over Papyrus' puzzles. Weird, right?

The entity continues on, controlling Frisk to kill everyone that moves. By the time they reach Snowdin Town, every NPC is straight up gone. For example, in the shop, there's only a note begging Frisk not to hurt their family.

Papyrus, still willing to see the good in everyone, offers to spare Frisk. Not a chance. The entity kills him in cold blood.

Moving on to Waterfall, the entire place is abandoned. The only people there are Undyne, Monster Kid, and a few unlucky stragglers who get brutally killed off.

Everything plays out as usual, until the bridge scene with Monster Kid. As Frisk/the entity moves in for the kill, SUDDENLY...

Undyne jumps in and takes the fatal blow instead. As Monster Kid escapes, Undyne starts to slowly turn to dust...

NOT! She powers up into a super cool form called Undyne the Undying and tries to strike the evil down in front of her.

It's a grueling battle, but ultimately, evil triumphs over good. Undyne the Undying melts HORRIFICALLY and dies.

The entity moves on to Hotland. Mettaton tries to stop it, but falls in one blow.

Eventually, the entity reaches the judgement hall. Sans has gotten up from his lazy ass, and is trying to make a last ditch effort to stop the entity once and for all. Especially after you killed his brother.

A valiant effort, but he fails. The entity kills him, another one to fall. Only one monster left in the underground.

King Asgore stands no chance. He falls just as easily as the others.

Flowey's back again. He tearfully begs the entity not to kill him. You don't listen.

Chara shows up, awakened by your kills. That's right. This whole time, the entity that controlled poor Frisk to murder all those monsters? That was you. Who's the real monster? You should know by now.

It's time to erase this world and move on to the next. You know what to do.

This post is getting a little too long, so more under the read more:

Did you get the joke? This is literally just the entire Genocide route of Undertale, but I tried to structure it as if it were some fucked up horror exe game or something. At least, i hope I did.

[jeanblvd]

Phantom of the Night

COLLAB MASTERLIST

My entry for @tsukina ‘s IFHY collab ♥️ lovers to enemies (to lovers?) ♥️ assassinxspy au ♥️ sfw ♥️ warning: cursing, violence, weapons, descriptions of blood, injury, im rlly bad w names

assassin!toji x spy!reader. both on a mission to capture each other. spy!reader is co-workers with spy!gojo. inspired by spyxfamily teehee

word count: 2.0k

THE ASSIGNMENT

You remember the day you were given a new mission with a candid photo of the Night Phantom handed to you. The image revealed his jet black hair which slightly hung over his snake green orbs and a slight cut over the side of his mouth. You thinned your lips, trying not to chuckle at the photo. They chose a bad photo, you thought.

Your co-worker/close friend, Gojo Satoru, stood by with a worried look as your boss—or as Gojo would rather say: ‘higher-up’—listed the skillset of this rugged-looking assassin. If there was anyone capable of fighting him in this whole spy company, it was you.

You, who once worked as an assassin, would be able to enter deep into the mind of one.

Especially one that is your ex.

“The assassin knows you, Agent Gold.” The spy leader warns, “You must be extra cautious with this mission, because…”

“Because you're his mission, too.” Gojo steps up. Your higher-up nods.

“Gojo-senpai,” you assure your friend who’s gnawing on his lip. “I got this.”

However, catching the talented Night Phantom was no easy feat. You would have thought it’d be easier since you were so-called ‘lovers’ in high school.

THE FIRST FIGHT

You walked down a cold, dark valley after exiting a coffee shop, hoping that you drew the attention of your target who had just left the liquor store on the opposite road.

The moon and a few buzzing lamps allowed for some light to illuminate the lonely path. Your senses told you that someone was indeed following you.

Following a trail of soda cans, and abandoned trash on the ground, you hear a shattering noise behind you. Instinctively, you spring your hand up and catch a shard of glass before it hits your temple.

“Night Phantom. Gonna let all that beer go to waste?” You could smell a hint of alcohol from the cold shard of glass.

“[Full Name]. Looking good as ever.” A dark, husky voice echoes from where the glass was thrown. You turn around to see the man you'd never thought you'd see again, emerge from the darkness.

Toji Fushiguro, aka, the Night Phantom. Your ex.

Much taller, more muscular than in the given photo. And more handsome than the last time you’ve met, but you will never admit it. He had the same annoying smirk plastered on his face.

Seeing him brought back a lot of memories when you were younger. Toji was the one who taught you how to defend and fight back. He taught you how to love, but he was also the one who broke your heart when he suddenly cut ties with you. Anger surges in you with that memory.

He never loved you.

Hearing your full name from him made you cringe. “Don’t call me that,” you grit.

He had a blade in one of his hands, twirling it around his fingers in a unique pattern with muscle memory. “What should I call you then?” he asks. His hands continue to play with his knife.

“Agent Gold?” he asks with distaste, rolling his eyes. You knew about his dislike for the spy community. ‘A bunch of stuck up fools who think they can fight' is what the assassin said about them.

“Don’t worry about it,” you begin, sliding out a blade from under your garments and flinging it toward the man’s head. “A dead man wouldn’t be speaking.”

This was an experienced assassin, so it doesn’t surprise you when he cocks his head to the side right on time to dodge your hit. His eyes never leave his shiny blade as he slowly strides closer to you. And you let him corner you into the wall.

“Hmm, I could call you…angel? Cuz you’re real heavenly.” He ignores your threat, breathing down your neck and you took that opportunity to take another hidden blade from the notch of his belt and strike him in the back. However, the assassin is swift and grabs your arm, using his other hand to spin you around, pinning you to the concrete wall. His breath is hot against your skin as he steals the weapon from you.

“Didn’t like that one? Weird. You liked it before.” You try to twist your wrist but he tightens his hold. “Mmm, how about ‘sweetheart’? Would you get used to that, sweetheart? C’mon, for old times sake.”

Feeling his skin brought back memories of you holding hands, cuddling in his old living room couch, or when he’d move closely and whispered secrets and confessions into your ear. What used to feel like heavenly flames igniting under your touch, now feel like scorching burns. That love you had for him was long gone.

You growl, irritated from his teasing. “God, shut up!” He underestimates your strength as you were able to twist yourself from his hold using your feet. When Toji grabs your hand once again, you twist your arm, simultaneously flying your legs up to send a roundhouse kick to the back of his head, knocking him to the ground. Now in a defenseless position, you place your boot on top of his head, adding pressure to your heel.

“The hell are they teaching you at that little spy playground? You’re gonna need a better trainer, Agent Gold.” Then, he suddenly gives you a chance, changing his harsh tone to a more softer one. “Come back.”

But you’re no fool for his tricks. Not anymore.

“No.” You add more pressure to the soles of your foot.

“Honey, you’re fighting skills are lousy. Pfft, the ‘best in the industry’ my ass.” He reiterates the words of what someone said about the Agent Gold. “Guess I shoulda trained you more when we had the chance, eh?” His condescending tone just made you angrier.

“Give me a break.” You roll your eyes.

He grabs your ankle with ease, shoving your leg to the side with his immeasurable strength, sending you to the near wall, but you still found some strength in you to jump right back and throw a massive punch toward his back which could’ve thrown him to the ground. Instead of fighting back, Toji dodges your hit once again. He ticks his tongue.

“So much potential. Come back tomorrow night and we’ll train more. I’m not fighting a weak opponent.”

Train?!?! You wanted to strike him again but he disappears into the dark.

THE LAST FIGHT

Returning from missions empty handed, had you constantly apologizing to your boss. Gojo even asked if you wanted assistance, but you refused any help. This was your mission to complete. Perhaps, deep down, you just wanted to see Toji again and you knew this was the only way. But it’s not like you love him or anything.

After days of ‘fighting’ and Toji disappearing into the fog of the night (he really is a phantom), you find yourself getting the upper hand in these battles more and more. At one point, you almost had him, but he slipped away just in time before you could land your final blow.

This time, you were ready. And he knew. The cut on the side of his lips is accompanied by fresh ones created by the tip of your small yet dangerously sharp blade.

He wipes the bottom of his bleeding lip with the back of his scruffed hand.

“Darlin’, you’re getting better.” A devilish grin adorns his perfectly broken face as he breathlessly chuckles. “Looks like this is our final fight yeah? Now, let’s end this once and for all.”

“Gladly.”

The assassin charges at you with all the strength he had left. This time, you’re prepared, ducking and rolling under him. It results in him toppling over, but he immediately regains his balance, swiftly sweeping a leg under yours to have you falling to the ground. Toji hops over you, legs pressing your thighs down, and hands pinning your arms above you.

But you quickly slide your hands out of his, pointing a sharp blade toward his face. He’s faster, bending his neck and taking the blade between his teeth, ignoring the blood that draws from his lips due to the blade’s tip. He then spits it to the side, tightly gripping your hand back in place.

Like your opponent, you too are also almost at your limit, your limbs helplessly sprawled out. You could taste blood on your tongue, but you’re too focused on the longer blade that Toji draws from his belt.

“It was nice knowing you, angel.” He presses the sharp tip against your neck. One wrong move and he could end it all. “Sad that we ended up like this, [y/n]. In another life, perhaps.” You swore you saw hesitation flash in his eyes.

“W-wait!” you shout, before he punctures the blade into your flesh.

It frustrates you. That he’s treating this like a little game. This was supposed to be a mission. Your mission. To make your co-workers proud. Maybe it was better if he had just used his full power the first time and finished you off, than treat you like a training dummy. Maybe you could never beat him in the end. It was no use. Toji was just too strong. His skills were unmatched, even for someone like you.

He pauses, giving you the decency to speak which was odd. The cold-hearted assassin you knew waited for no one, especially his opponents.

“You could’ve killed me the first time. Why didn’t you? I'm your assignment, too, aren't I?”

His knuckles turn white from gripping the blade too tight. “I said it. I don’t want to fight a weakling. That’s all.”

“Bullshit.” You glare at him, despite the fact that he was the one with a weapon. No one had your bravery, Toji recalls to himself.

He grabs your neck with his other hand while threatening you. “I’ll kill ya right now. Really—.”

“Did you ever love me?” You finally asked the question that lingered in the air, since you had laid your eyes on each other after so many years apart. If there was anything you wanted to know, it was this.

Silence falls over you both, and you took it as his answer.

A tear falls down your cheek. A tear of frustration, of shame, and defeat. Maybe a small part of you had wished he did. Because you definitely felt the rekindling of those flames you once felt on the skin gripped by his calloused hands on your neck.

You close your eyes only to hear a metal clank loudly next to your ear. The blade is no longer in his hands. Toji’s vulnerable state doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Now’s the chance. But you’re hesitating.

With your eyes still shut, you completely switch your position, shoving the hand away and straddling his thighs. Once you opened your eyes, you notice his lashes has been fluttered shut as well.

"I can't," he starts, bringing an arm over his face as he laid, back against the hard ground. The cockiness in his demeanor has disappeared. The soft, timid Toji Fushiguro you saw only when you were together appeared before you again. It was a side of him that was for your eyes only.

Can't what? Love me? you wonder to yourself, frustrated.

Before you could retort, he speaks. “I can’t kill you,” he confesses quietly.

“Why? Can't have that on your conscience, Night Phantom? Or is it because you love me?” you ask the daunting question again, slowly taking a hidden weapon from your thigh strap.

“…Tsh.” Toji doesn’t notice your secretive actions. He still had his eyes covered by his forearm, muscles tensing and jaw clenching. “I fucking hate you, actually. I loathe you. I wish we never met.” His words felt like multiple thorns pricking at your heart.

Unconvinced, you drop your weapon and pushed his arms away from his face to see a pair of angry, teary eyes that wouldn’t dare look into yours.

“Then, why the fuck are you crying?”

This was your first time seeing him cry. And it makes you wonder if all the words he said just now were lies. You peer over his face to read his expression, pulling his chin harshly so that your eyes could meet.

All your doubts were cleared when Toji finally looks at you and he doesn't resist his urge to lean forward and kiss you.

You could've pulled away. You could've stabbed him right then and there. Complete your mission. But, instead, you kiss him back as his hands card through your messy hair, tasting the blood on your lips. There is a bruising pain on your thigh, pressing against his bruised side, but none of you care, too engrossed into the kiss.

"Fuck you," he whispers hotly against your skin which elicits a grunt from you. “Fuck you for making me love you.”

❤️

a/n: ty if you read this far! <3 Likes and reblogs are appreciated.

[baroquebucky]

one and only

a/n: hi guys !! this one shot is inspired by this song by cuco ! I hope u all enjoy,, I went overboard again,, pls tell me what u think :] lyrics are in bold !

in which bucky slowly but surely falls for you

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

I hope that you wanna get to know me

Bucky smiled at you from across the coffee shop, both of you stealing glances at each other for the past hour. Finally mustering up some courage and walking to your booth.

"hi" he had breathed out, a smile on his face as you looked at him with wide eyes, a smile quickly breaking across your face.

"hi" you smiled, extending your hand out for him to shake, "y/n."

Bucky shook your hand quickly, pink dusting his cheeks, "I'm bucky."

"do you wanna sit? I can move some stuff so you have some room" you spoke quickly, fumbling as you moved all your homework and notebooks to the side, stacking them on top of each other.

Bucky slid into the booth with a soft smile, quickly striking up a conversation, flirting with you the whole time.

"I have to go soon" you frowned, putting all your stuff away as bucky got up from the booth. He held a hand out, helping you up and paying for both of your drinks and snacks.

"I had a really nice time" bucky flashed you a smile, your ears heating up.

"I- uh yeah I did too" you replied, looking at your feet as the two of you walked out of the coffee shop.

The two of you exchanged numbers, a bashful grin on both of your faces as you parted ways.

"text me when you get home" you had told him out of habit, blushing when you realized you had only met him today.

"I mean you don't have to" you added, fumbling with the string on your backpack.

"only if you do the same" he replied, a smirk on his face as your mouth formed an 'o' shape.

Bucky had texted you first, making your heart flutter. exchanging a few texts that night, bucky decided to get real brave.

I hope we can hang out again soon :)

And sure enough you did, meeting up at his favorite coffee shop only three days later. Getting to know each others interests.

As time passed you and bucky became closer, getting lunch together, texting each other often, having late phone calls almost everyday.

baby hit me up if you get lonely

You and bucky never really opened up to each other, even after one month of your little coffee and lunch dates. And so there you were, staring at your bedroom ceiling with an empty heart, dried tears on your face.

Your phone vibrated next to you, lighting up the room. You let it ring, not having enough energy to pick it up.

Bucky grew worried, you never just left him hanging like that, you always replied with why you didnt pick up within minutes. It had been an hour already.

everything okay ?

your phone buzzed and you looked over, seeing his missed call and texts. Sighing you replied, not wanting to bother him.

yea, just tired

Bucky frowned, his stomach twisting as he read your reply. Thinking for a moment before he texted you once again.

im here if you need me or need anything

Your bottom lip quivered, fresh tears streaming down your face.

do you think you can come over

your heart was heavy, you were stressed, tired and you wanted someone to tell you it was gonna be okay, instead you were alone in the dark, in an empty apartment with only the sounds of the city keeping you company.

on my way

Bucky was sweet. Bucky was caring and he was everything good in the world. Listening to you as you cried, dumping all your worries out into the air, rubbing your back and handing you tissues, getting you water.

He listened, he reassured you and he helped you through it, never being pushy and always reminding you that you were strong enough to get through it.

"and if im not?" you had whispered, looking at the floor with teary eyes.

"then im here to fight for you."

I know im not confused, my feelings here are true

Bucky opened up to you a few nights later, after ignoring your texts all day you showed up at his apartment, snacks in one hand and coffee in the other.

You listened to him vent, letting out all he had bottled up, all his guilt, his regret, his pain, everything.

You didnt judge him, you just got up, sat closer to him and hugged him, holding him tightly. Bucky relaxed in your arms, burying his face in your shoulder and letting himself cry, allowing himself to be vulnerable for once.

You woke up in each others arms the next morning, blushing when you both realized.

Bucky was red, you were about to start sweating, telling him you were gonna head home and would text him when you arrived.

After that he found himself more nervous around you, butterflies when he saw you. For the first time in decades he found himself styling his hair more and putting effort into his outfits.

on gloomy days like these wishing you were next to me

You sat on your couch alone, rain hitting your window steadily. You sent a text to bucky, asking him when he would be back from a mission he got dragged along. He replied quicker than you expected, your heart beating a little faster.

just a couple more days :)

okay hurry back safe I miss u :/

Bucky choked on his own spit at your text, Sam looking at him as if he was insane. Bucky ignored him, replying to your message

I miss you too dollface

You read the text over, squealing and jumping around at the pet name, face hot and stomach fluttering.

when im feeling puzzled, you put me back together

Bucky frowned, barely listening to you explaining a documentary you watched the other day.

"buck?" you asked, setting down your phone and looking at the super soldier, worry in your eyes.

"sorry I- what about the jungle?" he questioned, trying to push away his thoughts.

"talk to me James" you pleaded, hands moving to hold his own.

A few moments passed, quiet as bucky gathered his thoughts, tears welling in his eyes before he blinked them away and began talking.

"what if a part of him is still there? what if im not who Steve thought I was? what if im not what people want me to be?" bucky looked at you, teary eyed and broken.

"you're free bucky" you told him, scooting closer to him and he nodded.

"Steve would be proud of you, I mean look at you, you have a furnished apartment, you have friends, you're working with sam, you're building your life" you spoke, smiling at him.

"you shouldn't care what others want you to be, be who you want to be. Be who you are now" you squeezed his hands, letting him gather his thought as you stopped talking.

"am I good?" he mumbled, a small frown on his face.

"you are" you replied without hesitation.

"you like me as who I am now?" you nodded.

"me too" he smiled, leaning his head on your shoulder, your fingers brushing through his hair.

I wanna be your one and only

Bucky finally introduced you to sam, you were excited, having heard so much about him.

"what if he hates me" you worried, stopping in your tracks as you paced buckys living room.

"he'll love you doll" bucky reassured you, a knock at the door making your heart thump in your ribcage as you waited for bucky to open it.

And love you Sam did, talking your ear off and chatting with you all night. You struggled to catch your breath between his jokes, stomach hurting as he continued.

bucky hated it. only he had made you laugh that hard, the crinkles by your eyes were reserved for him and his bad jokes. bucky got up quietly and went to grab a cup of water, sam quickly excusing himself and following him into his kitchen.

"you are down bad" sam laughed and bucky rolled his eyes at him, gulping down his water, setting the cup down, eyes softening as he saw you on his couch, replying to some texts.

"you should ask her out soon, or else I will" sam teased, knowing it would push the super soldiers button.

"sam is actually leaving right now!" bucky smiled, sam rolled his eyes before playing along.

"aw, it was just getting good" you smiled, getting up and going to give sam a hug, wishing him a good night before he left.

You and bucky sat on the couch, the sounds from the movie filling the room.

"green isn't your color" you smirked, bucks eyes went wide.

"what?" he questioned, heart racing.

"cmon im not stupid, you were cranky the whole time sam was cracking jokes" you shrugged your shoulders, eyeing bucky.

Bucky was quiet, Sams words ringing in his ears.

"I like you y/n and I've liked you for a while and I-" he stopped himself, not wanting to say something he would regret. You let him think, heartbeat ringing in your ears as his confession rattled around in your brain.

"I want to be the one making you laugh, I want to spend rainy days with you and I want to go to the park with you on sunny days" bucky spoke, looking at you.

"I wanna be your one and only" bucky ended, eyes searching your face as he finished, worried about what you were thinking.

You had the biggest smile on your face, fidgeting with your fingers. Looking up your eyes met his blue ones, stomach in knots and heart skipping a beat.

"ask me then" you stated, never breaking eye contact.

"will you be mine y/n?" he spoke, voice trembling, he fidgeted with his fingers.

"of course" you replied, crashing your lips onto his, smiling into the kiss, breaking out into giggles when he pulled away and peppered kisses all over your face.

and if never is forever, then lets always be together

Sam pat bucky on the back, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Steve would be so happy for you" he whispered to him, a smile breaking onto his face, nodding to sam and looking up.

The whole team was there, sam standing behind him as his best man, your family with bright faces as the music began and everyone looked back.

The doors opened and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. His mouth fell open at the sight of you. His cheeks hurt from smiling so hard but he didn't care, tears falling from his face as you smiled brightly at him.

You spent the whole ceremony the same way you had met. Stealing glances at each other and blushing deeply when you caught each other, holding back giggles and brushing it off as clearing your throat.

You were marrying the light of your life, the person who was there for you when you couldn't see the light, the one who always supported you and fought for you when you couldn't. Helping you grow into the person you wanted to become.

He was marrying the light of his life, the person who was his sun during his worst times, shining brightly for him and picking him up when he was upset. Helping him become the person he was meant to be.

[mxvladdy]

heyy i just read your fic Case of the Munchies on ao3 and im Loving it!!!! its amazing!! i was wonder if youre accepting requests and if you haven’t done it could you write the same for the rest: mammon, levi, satan, belphi, dia, barbatos and smth for simeon and luke (ofc platonic) like how angles have a true form and that means they can never relax around mc and how solomon has so much power at his fingertips he can just snap and end them or smth like that? pretty please and thank you!!!!

A/N: Of Course! Of Course! I already did Mammon and Levi HERE so I’ll do the other four in this request! You sent me a lot of good ideas and I’ll sprinkle them out into other requests soon!

Hope you like it!!

Case of the Munchies prt 3!

Word Count: 4.2k

Characters: Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos

TW: Mentions of eating and cook humans, very mild gore

Satan

As the only full-blooded demon of the seven, he has thought about it...just hypothetically of course. When you were new to the Devildom he did find your scent more appetizing than the others. It’s a good thing he has the most restraint and control of all his kin, especially when it comes to his more base urges.

He doesn’t hide this knowledge from you. It’s readily available in the library and his own room in the history books. He just won’t bring it up. So if you don’t say anything, he won’t either. What would he say anyway? “Yes, I’ve thought about it, up until it was outlawed it was a staple of our diet after all…” Ye, probably not the best thing to say.

When you finally brought it up he was exasperated. Did you have to bring it up during the few hours he had alone with himself? He wasn’t going to lie but the thought of hurting your feelings would just about do him in.

He will alleviate your worries if you have any. If Satan was anything, he was genuine.

Mini Fic

His wine curdles in his stomach, turning sour along with the take-out he had nabbed for the two of you to enjoy tonight. Drinks and dinner were becoming a staple in your T.V. night tradition. If one of you had had a rough day you would drop by your favorite shop of the hour and pick up a meal to share while you vent.

Today in particular had been a shit day for him. Failed experiment after failed experiment, and one bottle that didn’t explode on impact with the potion he dropped. Sigh. At least your comforting words soothed his wounded pride a little. You chuckle at his escapades glad to see he is not hurt at least. It was nice to have someone to see the humor in something that normally would have dampened his mood.

“You’re a pest.” He laughs at you while snapping his takeout chopsticks in half to use. “I need sympathy-hours of work wasted.” You snort into your own bowl of udon.

“You need words of praise like Beel needs another stomach.” Satan gasps in mock insult pointing a sauce stained chopstick at you.

“How dare you insult your host! After I toiled over this meal of-” What did he get exactly? Honestly, when he placed the order he was near boiling with rage at his careless fumble. It was to be a surprise for you, something to give you a bit of magic while supervised by himself. He knew how frustrated you were with your lack of magical ability in class so he wanted to gift you something grand. Now he has to wait months to try again.

Ah, well...nothing ventured nothing gained as they say.

You watch him sulk over his soup dumplings, his mile away from the comfort of your company and his room. “Come on blondie.” You poke him with your foot before burying them under his pajama-clad thighs on the couch. “Eat your ‘hard earned’ meal before I do.” You snatch up his D.D.D forgetting your own food for a moment to set up your favorite streaming service to cast to his small T.V. “Want to watch a bunch of humans fail miserably at baking?”

"I thought you would never ask."

Satan feels you stiffen in his arms two hours into your bake-off marathon. Your takeout boxes are cold and forgotten on his coffee table, a bottle of wine gone between the two of you. He glances down at you curious.

You were transfixed on the screen. The novice baker on screen was struggling to keep his monstrosity of a cake upright. It was the annual Halloween episode and this fool went for a Silence of the Lambs inspired cake. A good concept really, but very poorly executed. The fake body parts and sugar blood weighted the pastry down dangerously. If he were, to be frank, the cake was also tacky as hell. Heh, he'd have to try to make this for Lucifer.

"Does his abuse of the piping gun offend you that much?" He jokes wrapping an arm around you.

Your laugh is breathy and lacks its usual warmth. "It is excessive isn't it?" You look up at him. "Hey, Satan-have you ever eaten people before?"

"Uhh…" Great, how eloquent. This came out of nowhere, did Lucifer set you up to this? No-no you wouldn’t. Would you hate him if you knew? “I have.” He admits through clenched teeth waiting for your reaction.

“Didn’t Diavolo ban it?” He can tell you are doing the mental math in your head.

He chuckles dryly. “Well, you never asked if I did it legally.” You move away from his touch and pause the show. “I mean...I did it legally! ” His mouth runs freely, his brain screaming at him to shut up.

“Satan.” You cross your arms unimpressed.

“It was a new law and I never meant to eat it for the most part. It was at a time where I was still struggling to control myself.” Young and stupid as Lucifer had said defending him every step of the way when he would slip up. Was it sold on the black market now? Yes. Did he know how to get it? Sure, but he would never nor would he tell you about it either.

You nod thinking about his words. “I can empathize.” Oh, thank the Devil. “Have you thought of eating me?”Ahhh. “Oh my God, you have.” You chuck a pillow at him with a laugh.

He catches the pillow and clutches it to his fiery hot face. “Everyone did at first!” If he was going down then he was going to take every one of his brothers down with him. “I wasn’t going to act on it! It was a spur of the moment-why are you laughing!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes wishing you had your phone to take a picture of his blushing face. “I kind of figured you did.”

Satan looks at you incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more torn up over this?”

You shrug. “After everything we’ve been through? I admit it was a shock to think at first but I mean, you would have done it by now right?”

“Well, thank you?” He flops back on the couch, still clutching the pillow to act as a barrier between you two. He’ll take it as a compliment.

You scoot close, nudging his knee with yours. “You ok?” He nods. “Can I touch you?” He nods again eagerly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and squeeze. “Sorry, I made you uncomfortable.”

Satan chuckled, dropping the pillow to hug you back. “It’s ok.” He peaks your forehead. “Now, with that out of the way. Shall we finish this?” He swipes up his phone to hit play. You nod, flinging your legs over him to snuggle closer. “Good, I’m dying to know how he tries to save that thing. I’m putting money on icing.”

“You know.” You break the silence once more, unable to stop yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to being eaten...in some ways.”

Belphegor

After your first *ahem* encounter, he doesn’t bring up the whole food thing. He is afraid that if you learned about it, it would be the last strike for you and his relationship. Perhaps it’s paranoia on his part but better safe than sorry.

In all honesty, he didn’t eat it that much anyway. Killing humans was something he did often in his youth as a demon. A stupid attempt at revenge on his part. It filled the holes in his hearts to hurt those he believed killed his sister.

But to eat their flesh? Disgusting. He tried it a few times and it turned his stomach with every mouthful. He just hated them too much to even stomach them. He’s mellowed out with time but still never got a taste for it.

When you asked it was a shock but welcomed in a way. Like he could finally get this weight off his shoulders every time he looked at you.

Mini Fic

“It’s gross.” Belphie yawns, jumping up to sit on the high garden wall. He bends down to help you up placing you gently next to himself. The wind catches you by surprise threatening to topple you back from the wall before he rights you. He tosses his sweater over you with a nod of satisfaction.

You snuggle into the fleece lining burying your nose into the fabric. It smelled of elderberries and honeysuckles. Belphie watches you curl up into his side with a fond smile. “Seriously, you all are nasty.”

“Ouch!” You push his shoulder with a grin. “I feel like I should be offended on behalf of all humans.”

Belphie snorts, looking up into the bright colors of the night sky. “Good. Be offended. You, humans, are slimy.” You squawk indignantly. “It’s true, never in all my years would I willingly ingest it.” He shudders theatrically.

“Rude.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy? Lest I eat you?” He growls playfully, taking a swipe at you. He pulls you close to kiss the pout off your face. He stops only when your face is hot and your smile threatens to pull a muscle. “I’ll keep you safe, always.” He vows resting his chin on your head.

“Do you think other demons would try to eat me?”

“Have you met my twin?” He teases. He takes your jab to his ribs with a smile. “But if one of those lesser demons even tries to breathe in your direction I’ll kill them.”

“Ok, Mister sleeps till dinner.” You joke. His vow warms your heart a little, chasing away the small bit of fear that had rested itself in your chest. You saw how some demons looked at you at R.A.D, the longing and hungry looks got to be a bit much sometimes. A few older demons would discuss it loudly when they knew you were close by. Apparently, it was a long standing tradition of demons eating humans both body and soul when a pact was concluded.

Imagine what those brothers would do to them…

You shake your head hugging Belphie closer. You had nothing but his word that he would keep you safe, yet that was enough for you. Besides, he wasn’t one to follow the rules even at the best of times.

“I’m serious. You're off limits for everyone.”

You nod into his shirt, closing your eyes to enjoy the peace of the moment. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Diavolo

It is so far from his mind that when you say something it is like a rug was taken out from under him. He could be diplomatic about it, but you deserve better than a half-truth.

He was a wild child in his youth. Sometimes he would overindulge in his father’s heritage and gorge himself on his newfound powers and privilege. He would dine with the elders and eat with abandon under their proud eyes.

He regrets it now, in your company it brings up a slurry of emotions. Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of his past behavior.

The urge is stronger in him than the brothers, a constant nagging tug in his guts, but he is strong. Stronger both in willpower and sheer physical prowess than them so the pull is more of an annoyance than a burning need. He can temper the hunger in other ways if need be *wink*

He fears what you might think of him if you ever found out the truth, but however you take it he will handle it in stride. He loves you too much not to.

Mini Fic

Dinners, when Diavolo could eat alone, were a rare and special treat. The solace of just being allowed to exist without constantly checking his posture or presentation was a blessing, just him, his thoughts, and a good meal. It was nice to have no paperwork to worry about staining this time or a tedious meeting where he couldn’t savor his meal. No, no this was good. He looks down at his heavily laden plate and smiles. Well, almost… Pulling out his phone he snaps a quick picture and sends it to you with a simple question. Join me?

Private meals were wonderful, but with you, they were perfect.

You arrive faster than he expected, flushed face and clutching a stitch in your side from rushing over. He almost felt bad before he saw the eager look in your eyes. Barbatos helps you with your school bags and coat before placing another plate of food across from the young lord. He winks at the prince before disappearing back through the door.

“Thank you for the invite!” You beam taking your seat across from him. “I hope you don’t mind that I'm not dressed for the occasion. I was just wrapping up a study session with the boys.” You look down at your rumpled lounge clothes.

Diavolo waved his hand disregarding your concerns. “I would emulate you if I had the time.” He looks at his own pressed school uniform. He had another meeting this evening, much to his distaste. “You look rather comfortable.” You smile in delight before tucking into your own plate.

You eat in a comfortable silence reading the room well enough to tell that he wished for some company but not needless chitter-chatter. Barbatos arrived moments after you put your fork down and left with the plate leaving behind a delicious smelling hot drink. You couldn’t put your finger on the flavor but it tastes spicy like cinnamon and coats your throat like warm honey.

Whatever was in the drink seemed to work some magic on the prince. His shoulder droop, his back sinking into the chair as his legs stretch out till they are close to brushing against yours. He starts talking over the drink, eyes slowly lighting up with delight. You drink, nodding along with him as he builds up steam. It was nice to see him so unguarded and light. You listen to him talk about simple innocent topics. You knew how he tried to have these conversations with the others to no avail. The brother’s always tried to stay clear of him, and Lucifer simply dismissed these things most days. Barbatos and the angels were a bit better but still listened mostly to placate him.

“Ah!” Diavolo stops mid-sentence as his door opens once more Barbatos holding a small platter in his gloved hand. Dia claps his hands in delight. “I’ve been wanting to have you try this with me for forever. The human palate is so different, but I hope this is tasty.”

“What is it?” You eye the covered plate curiously.

Dia says a word in infernal. It is harsh and guttural in his throat but his delight was evident in his tone. “It is like...a roasted nut? Sorry, it is difficult to explain but it has been a favorite treat of mine since I was a boy. I hope you like it too.” He opens the lid with little ceremony and tilts the bowl to you. Inside were several golfball sized pods piled on top of each other. Even from across the table you could feel the molten heat radiating from the porous black shell. It looked...ugly. Like a hunk of dried lava. You eye it suspiciously as Diavolo picks one up with his bare hands and bits it. The shell cracks under his sharp teeth, a fang catching in a weak spot with a noise that makes you shiver. Underneath the thick casing, you could see a dark red and fleshy core. He hums in delight pulling put the meat of the seed and discard the shell pieces onto an empty plate. He makes quick work of the innards already reaching for another by the time you casually pick up a seed.

The seed itself was dense and warm to the touch. You squeeze it, noting that the porous coating felt like a mass of steel in your hand. “Dia-how do I open it?” No way you could bite it, not without breaking your jaw in the process.

“Allow me.” He takes it from you and effortlessly cracks it. “It is a tradition to break them with teeth, instead of hands or utensils. Something about a show of strength. I just find it fun.” He shrugs, handing you the broken seed.

“Fun!” You marvel at his pearly fangs. “Those are some big chompers.”

“All the better to eat you with my dear.” He chuckles.

You blink in shock, eyes widening. “Would you? Eat me?”

Diavolo’s smile drops. “No.” He lies on reflex, his political nature kicking in. “No-no wait.” He shakes his head. “I...at a time would have without hesitation.” He feels you recoil. “It was common practice back in the day. To the common demon it was a great meal and for the ruling class a show. He looks down at the broken fragments of shell on his plate. Breaking the shell was far too reminiscent of other things. He squashes the unwanted wave of memories coming up. Instead, he looks up at you.

You sit quietly mulling over his words. You haven’t run yet. “Why did you stop?”

He leans back with a loud exhale. Why did he stop? There were many reasons, none he wished to divulge into at the moment, but he had to say something. “I grew up, and began to resent and regret it.” He used to read human stories of demons and his kind. They hurt their characterizations of him and his people. Yet, they had all been scarily accurate. He wanted to prove that they weren’t stagnating beasts, slaves to their desires. Even if it wasn't a popular opinion.

“I see.” You pick up the seed again. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to, and to apologize… such admissions must have ruined your appetite. If you wish to retire-”

“Is it weird if it didn’t?” You cut him off. You felt-not apathetic to the knowledge but close to it. It confirmed a lot of things for you and put certain things in perspective. You still felt safe with him even with this new bit of knowledge. Without a second thought, you pop the treat into your mouth. You gasp in delight. The flavor and texture were not what you were expecting, but was delicious all the same. “Can you open another for me?” You push your plate over to him.

“Of course!”

The food was as wonderful as his company.

Barbatos

You knew he cooked it. He probably knows a million different ways to prepare a human. He is also very blunt about his dabblings in the market.

He doesn’t eat it, hasn’t ever. He sees no reason to, especially since he doesn’t need to eat anyway there is no temptation. He did find the meals he created beautiful though.

Once he lived for the praises of the courts and his young lord. He was a master at all mediums he cared to work with. Time, decorum, or of the flesh.

He is 100% unashamed of his past with the dark side of the Devildom’s history. In fact, he is damn near proud of it. He is a demon and it was a part of his life, if that frightens you, well there is nothing he can do about it.

He’ll entertain your questions and will try to put any lingering worries at ease. Just don’t expect to be coddled when he does.

Mini Fic

Barbatos had very few personal pleasures in his life. His schedule simply didn’t have the space for such things. So why even bother looking for a pastime. It wasn’t until Diavolo gifted him with an old worn cookbook did he find it.

Cooking was a necessity for his prince, but with that little book, it became something he looked forward to doing. Slowly, he began to seek them out, filling his growing quarters with cookbooks and loose-leaf slips of paper. He enjoys reading them. Each book was a little time capsule into the cook's life and memories. Could a mix of spices really remind someone of the arid heat of their motherland? Or does following a certain way of aging meat really honor the writer's late grandfather’s memory? He tries them all, each recipe a little invasion to a happier time.

He wrote his fair share of cookbooks too in his day. Simple modifications to things the young lord liked to the odd machinations of his own imagination. He got good at experimenting with flavors and textures over the years, mastering certain cooking techniques and flavors just for fun. He didn’t share many of them, a lot of his recipes were just too complicated for most. Luke was allowed to look at his pastry books only. The little cherub was enamored with his techniques and wanted to learn as much as he could in the short amount of time he was in the Devildom. Admirable, but he made sure to keep some of his...less savory books away from the boy. He shudders to think what Simeon would do if he scarred the young angel.

You are the only one who has full access to his collections. Whether you liked to cook was inconsequential to him. He simply enjoyed sharing this interest with you. Some nights you would take it upon yourself to be his “sous-chef”. Which meant you sat in the corner of the kitchen and read out the ingredients and steps for a recipe he knew by heart. Sometimes you would add in extra steps in an attempt to stump it. Cute...but ultimately failed each time. So, most nights when you tagged along to the kitchens you just flip through his collection, reading his immaculate scribblings crammed into the corners of the pages or where he scratched out certain ingredients for more demon-appropriate foods and more sustainable options.

You had gone through many beautiful books before you found it. The cookbook was small and inconspicuous compared to most. Just a simple black cover with a well-worn spine. What made you take notice of it was just how dusty it was. That wasn’t like him to do. Barbatos would never let something get so dirty. You wished you never had opened it. You weren’t stupid by any means, but after reading a few pretty graphic recipes it had unsettled you. So you withdrew from Barbatos trying to forget about the book tucked away deep in the bowels of your school bag.

“You’ve been distant.” You choke, hand flying up to your chest as you swear your heart skipped a beat. Damn demon. Should put a bell on him. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are piercing, cutting away at your feeble defenses.

“Nothing…” You fiddle with your bag’s strap. Your eyes drop to the floor taking in the differences between his polished shoes and your scuffed boots.

“Of course not…” You could hear the skepticism in his voice. “I trust that if there was something wrong you would feel safe enough to confide in me.” His words hit like a ton of bricks on your shoulders. He sighs seeing that his words got no reaction. “Please?”

Wordlessly you rummage in your bag and thrust the book into his chest. “Sorry. It shook me up more than I thought it would.”

Ah. He knew this book all too well. For a time it had been his favorite, one to pull out with Diavolo had guests or a deal that needed to be sealed. He accepts the book, noting how much your hands shook. “I understand.” He slips the book into his breast pocket making a mental note to hide it in one of his lesser used rooms. “Would you like to discuss this? In my room perhaps?” You follow with a timid nod.

“Where shall we begin?” Barbatos asks the moment he closes the door to his room.

“You don’t seem perturbed.” You frown. Barbatos shrugs, pulling the book out and opening it. He had a lot of good memories stored here. Some of these were still considered signature dishes, oftentimes a visiting dignitary would lament to him about the good old days when he could show off his craft when flesh was plentiful. He takes pride in that still to this day even. For as much as he loved you, he would not be ashamed of this.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shake your head when he says as much. “It just confused me. Do-do you see me as food?”

“I never saw humans as food, no more than I see demons or angels as it.” He picks at an imaginary bit of lent from his pant leg. “As for seeing you as food no. No matter how sweet your lips are, or how honeyed your words can be.” He smiles, taking impish delight in your squirming. “I merely did my job as a butler for my lord.”

“Oh- sorry for not coming to you sooner.” You felt foolish now. Barbatos waves it off, pleased to have this issue put aside so quickly and cleanly. “Wait-" You gasp as his words finally sink in. “Have you prepared angels before?”

He flashes you a mischievous smile putting a single finger up to his lips. “Perhaps~ do you wish to read that too?”

[hiraethhh-h]

throwing a weighted blanket at the om! bros + undateables (and a bonus)

warning(s): some swearing, threats of torture, implied nsfw, spoilers. 

note: no supernatural beings or humans were hurt in the making of this- also this was inspired bc my mom bought a weighted blanket and its heavy af 

the demon brothers

lucifer:

“MCCCCCC..!!!”

i- chile do you have a death wish???

momentary shock at how cute your laughter sounds (but he would never say it out loud unless you two were alone)

prepare to be chased and in demon form once he gets himself together

this man can ZOOM (i mean he does chase after mammon)

when you get caught, oH boY 

you’ll be lectured for hours on end 

“what made you think that was a good idea, mc?”

“and delete that recording of me. immediately.”

don’t worry levi is sure to save a secret file :)

anyone you were in cahoots with will be lectured and punished too

but your punishment ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

mammon:

“ADKSDHFKSJHFGKSJFH- HeY!!!”

is completely caught off-guard

crooked glasses and messy hair once he removes the blanket off of him

“why’d ya do that mc!!!”

if you tease mammon about being unable to handle the weight of the blanket-

*mammon rant activated*

“the great mammon can totally handle weight!!! i used to lift more than beel ya know!!!”

“hey! quit laughing at me mc!!!”

gets all flustered when you admit you were just teasing him to see his cute reaction

awe bby boy

probably forgives you if you promise to spend quality time with him for a few days

dont be surprised if he holds a grudge tho 

prepare to smother him with snuggles and cuddles to make him forgive you :)))

leviathan:

oh boy, you’d best be ready to deal with the consequences if you throw a weighted blanket onto him

especially if he’s doing a game run-through or grinding through a game 

“okay... just a little more and- ACK!”

like mammon, totally caught off guard since he was so focused on his game

*game over flashes on his screen*

“NOoOOo!!! My ScoRE!!!”

oh shit...

chile- you best hope you can run from levi 

pissed off at you like that one time during the TSL tournament

one of the other demon bros has to interfere and stop levi

“that stupid normie made me mess up my perfect score!!!”

mad at you for a few days 

and he will hold a grudge

but decides to forgive you if you stay with him as he plays through the game again

“i only forgave you because you’re the only one who’d love a yucky otaku like me...”

“and because you’re my henry.”

satan:

ok now you really have a death wish but i would probably do it too tbh 

ah... nothing but a normal day for satan

a cup of his favorite piping hot tea, a book, and the fire place next to him...

nothing could be better :)

until...

“what the fuck-”

tea spilled all over him and his book with the weight of the blanket = enraged satan

prepare to feel his WRatH

“so you thought this would be a great idea..?” 

turns into his demon form

threatens to try all kinds of torture methods on you and whoever was in cahoots with you for ruining his reading time >:(

satan will probably apologize to you for that and maybe to the other person depending on who it was

after that

satan will come back with his own little pranks for weeks on end

and when he finds out that you kept a recording of the little incident

:)

he’ll keep his pranks up until you finally yield

“alright. i’ll forgive you just this once, and you owe me a new copy of that book.”

“you also better delete that video if you know what’s good for you, mc.”

asmodeus:

“mc, no my hair and makeup!!!”

practically yeets the blanket off of him to protect himself

i would probably be surprised someone could yeet a heavy ass blanket off themselves but asmo is a demon so he has inhumane strength

*asmo pissed off 3000*

“mc! if you messed up a single hair on my head or ruined my makeup

*dark chuckle*

“i would’ve made sure i ruined you in more ways than one”

hHhhhH- be my guest asmo 

“oh well, i guess i’ll forgive you just this once.”

yay! forgiveness never felt so good-

“if you promise to spend quality time with just me~.”

he will literally take you out shopping the whole entire day

dresses you up in god knows how many outfits

but at the end of the day, when you both return back to the house of lamentation, he’ll take very very good care of you~

tries to bathe with you but lucifer catches wind of it :(

sore feet? asmo to the rescue!

“ne, you will delete that video right?”

beelzebub:

tbh the blanket would just feel like a normal blanket to thicc man :)

it also probably falls to the ground awkwardly

 *looks at the blanket then to mc*

“i think you dropped this”

*picks it up like it weighs nothing and hands it back then continues to eat whatever he was munching on*

whoever you’re in cahoots with either expected that to happen or is in shock with you lmao

while you’re reviewing the footage you can see beel’s muscles flex as he picks up the blanket :))))

later, beel will probably confront you about what happened 

“oh... that was supposed to be a prank..?”

seeing how kinda bummed you looked made beel kinda sad since your prank didn’t go as planned :(

what better than to make it up to you with food! :D

brings you all sorts of snacks and takes you to hell’s kitchen to make you feel better

“next time you prank me, i’ll definitely be caught off guard.”

belphegor:

is napping when you decide to try your sneak attack

as we all know, he kinda sleeps like a brick around mc so he’ll probably be indifferent to your giggles unless he gets curious

when you throw the blanket onto him

he snuggles into it

“...”

“...”

“this is really warm mc... is this what the humans call a weighted blanket..?”

belphie moves the blanket to make room for you

“why don’t you come nap with me since you’re already here..?”

snuggles and cuddles with belphie + warm weighted blanket = your heart melting :)

it’ll probably be hard to get up tho since you’re in belphie’s arms and underneath the heavy ass blanket rip

i ain’t complaining tho 

undateables

diavolo

is probably confused for a moment

until he feels the weight of the blanket

“this reminds me of some sort of torture device...”

picks it up out of curiosity until you tell him what it is

“oh! i see, you were trying to see what would happen when you threw this onto me!”

would probably ask if he could throw it at you too

but he realizes that you’d get hurt

“why dont we start a prank war?”

 but like i feel like it would be fun to have a prank war with Dia :D

plus he gets a break from all of his princely duties and you get to spend some quality time after with him ;)

poor barbatos has to clean up after most of the pranks tho :(

barbatos:

he’s doing some chores around the castle as per usual

until you sneak up on him 

or so you thought ;)

when you throw the blanket at him, barbatos catches it like it weighs nothing

he’s in a little momentary shock for a split second then comes back to reality since he was so focused on his chores

i wouldn’t be surprised bc he does do a helluva lot of things

“i hope you didn’t forget that i can see the future and different timelines.”

also knows that you recorded the little prank and decides to indulge you and let you keep it

“perhaps you can try again next time?”

cooks you up some food to make it up to you

simeon:

blinks in shock as the blanket is thrown over him

just laughs and removes the blanket

“If you were trying to surprise me, it worked.” 

he’d gently drape it over you and pull you into his arms

aklsdhjlaksdfjlk i want it too-

“i’ll have to leave soon though… Diavolo asked me to join him for tea at his castle today.”

simeon lets you go and smiles at you

“i would say don’t plan anything while im gone, but I can’t stop you.”

solomon: 

probably practicing spells or sum when you decide to strike

like some of them, he’d be shocked momentarily

“what’s this? Trying to sneak attack me?”

*queue the solomon smirk*

definitely would try to get back at you

be prepared bc this is one sneaky sorcerer

getting food at hell’s kitchen and need some ketchup?

solomon is there for you

but it isn’t ketchup ;)

its hot sauce ;)))

at the end of the day, solomon means well and laughs off all his pranks with you

bonus character!

luke:

i- why would you wanna throw a blanket at the smol child???

if you do which i hope you dont… pls do it gently

luke would probably pout and sulk at you and get rather upset

simeon would be like >:o

“how could you hurt my child?”

to make it up to luke, simeon would make sure that you bake with him

luke is down for it too, nothing’s better than a baking buddy! :D

long story short, pls PLS do not throw a weighted blanket at luke unless you want to evoke the wrath of everyone :)

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Apocalypse!AU -- Field Medicine

I 100% could write the events leading prior to this to satiate curiosity, but rn this is all my inspiration is giving me -- hope you like enjoy it! If you want more of this AU, pls let me know! 

Feedback is always appreciated!

Warnings: Violence, swearing, blood mention, field surgery

Tagging (if you wanna be tagged, lmk!): @marshmallow--3 // @yourlocalfrenchie // @rahdaleigh (idk why this isn’t tagging im so sorry) // @sofiewithat /// @iceboundstar // @mythandmagik // @britishhotassassin

Assassin’s Creed Mobile Masterlist

Red Dead Redemption 2 Mobile Masterlist

----------

“Get down!” 

You ducked for cover as a pipe bomb was thrown towards your group. 

Jacob, Connor, Altair, and you were hunting for supplies in a nearby town when you were ambushed by a group of hunters. They outnumbered you by about five to one. 

“Altair! What do we do?!” Jacob peeked over to fire a few aimed shots. 

You all looked over to the leader in question, who was catching his breath behind an old car. You could see the gears turning in his head before he came to a final conclusion. 

“Run.” Another pipe bomb went off. “Run!” 

He led the way to an abandoned shop building that could provide cover, Connor following closely behind with you and Jacob bringing up the rear. Feeling the bullies soar past your head, you ducked as Jacob tripped. You stopped to help him up. “Go!” He waved you off, shakily getting to his feet. 

You vaulted through what was once a window pane and ducked, Jacob clumsily following suit. He landed on his side with a groan. “Hey, are you okay?” You asked, pulling him back against the bricks. Once he settled, you could see his hand clutching his side. What made your heart palpitate was what he was covering. 

Blood.

“Shit! You’ve been shot!” You turned to Altair, who paused firing and stared. 

“What?!” 

“I’ll be fine.” Jacob rested his head back against the wall, taking deep breaths. 

“What are our options?” Connor asked, looking through his rucksack.

A flurry of gunshots flew above your heads. 

“Option 1: We leave him and escape ourselves.”

You scoffed at Altair’s suggestion. “Don’t even think about that.”

“I know! Look— we either try and make a run for it now or we split up and hide; one of us with Jacob while the other two pick them all off.”

You all exchanged glances. “That could work.” 

Jacob shifted and hissed. 

You wrapped his arm around your neck. “I’ll take him upstairs. Keep them off our backs and don’t get shot.”

The two nodded. Connor passed you a first aid kit and some alcohol. “You know what to do.” 

Smiling reassuringly, you motioned for them to get moving. The two of them ran across the street, drawing fire until they were safely across the street. The firing stopped. 

“They split up. Find them. Preferably in one piece, but I can settle for one.” The voice obviously belonged to the one in charge. “The girl. She’ll be the easiest.” 

You and Jacob exchanged glances. “Come on,” you whispered, half dragging him up the stairs. You entered the room at the end of the hall and locked the door behind you. Luckily, the windows were boarded up, so they didn’t see you go in. Unluckily, the windows were boarded up, so there was no escape without making noise. 

The room wasn’t big nor small; but it had a walk in wardrobe that was big enough for now. You set Jacob down gently, kneeling next to him by the side of the wound. Taking a breath, you took in his complexion; sweating, pale, panting. You looked down to see his hand almost drenched in the crimson liquid, which has been dripping a subtle trail after the two of you. “Shit!” You half whispered, taking out the first aid kit and alcohol. Pushing up his shirt, you offered a roll of bandages to his lips to bite down on. He accepted, albeit weakly. “This will hurt, but you have to stay quiet, okay?” He hummed a broken affirmation, grabbing your free arm, assumingly for moral support. “On three; one, two, three…” slowly, you poured the liquid over the wound. Pained gasps leaked through the bandages as his jaw clenched tightly, tension flooding down his neck.”I’m sorry!” You apologised as his grip on your arm tightened tenfold. Opening the first aid kit, you immediately went for gauze to pack the wound with.

“You have to take it out.” 

You turned to meet his eyes as he held the bandages in his other hand. “Please,” her continued. “I can feel it moving inside of me.”

“But I’m not a surgeon! I can bandage a wound but I’m nowhere near transplant surgery.”

“I’m not asking you for a transplant.” He pulled out some tweezers from the kit. “I’m asking you to remove a bullet.”

You sighed, reluctantly taking them. “I was shit at Operation, you know.”

“Now’s your chance to practice.” He balled up the bandages and bit down on them again, bracing himself for the intrusion of the tweezers. 

“Ah, fuck.” Slowly, you pressed them inside the wound, trying to ignore the hitched breaths beside you. Instead, you focused on touch, waiting to feel the contact with the metal ball waiting for you inside. It took a few moments, but finding it gave you the equivalent feeling of striking gold. “I got it. Holy shit, I got it.” As you pulled it free of Jacob’s flesh, you could see his muscles relax, along with a fresh flow of blood. Quickly, you packed it to try and stem the bleeding, evoking another gasp. “I’m so sorry.” 

He pulled out the bandages, chucking them back to the kit. “Had to be done.”

You turned your head back to the first aid kit, eyes wandering for a needle and sutures when you heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Jacob swallowed, ears picking up on the calculated thumps as well. “Please be the guys, please be the guys…”

“Check all the rooms. Don’t miss anything.”

“Shit!” 

Instead of stitches, you grabbed some surgical tape.”We’ll have to finish this later.” The words barely escaped as you spoke, practically mouthing them in an effort to stay quiet. You taped the gauze to his side, heart rate increasing as the sounds began to increase in volume; they were getting closer. 

You packed everything away and straddled Jacob to peer past the wall at the locked door, gun in hand. You cocked it ever so quietly, aiming it square in the centre. Jacob’s blood soaked hand took your chin gently, a complete juxtaposition to the image in front of you. “Hey,” he said. “We’ll come out of this just fine.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did. 

The door handle began to shake. “Fuck, I hope so.”

You’ve never been this scared in your entire life. 

Someone kicked at the door and you flinched. Hands shaking, you tried to steel yourself with a deep breath. Pulling the hammer down, you waited as a boot came down two, three, four times. The fifth time actually working took you off guard. Two figures stormed in, and you shot multiple times as they crossed the short distance. The gun was kicked out of your hand and you were thrown off of Jacob to the middle of the room. You blinked as your back hit the floor, hands coming up as a figure landed on you, a hand wrapping around your throat. A man of at least six feet with muscles as wide as your head had you pinned to the floor easily. Instinctively, your hands wrapped around his wrist. 

“Not so fast.” The other figure spoke, and a second later had thrown Jacob into view, a sharp quick to his injured side. He let out a pained noise, bringing a knee up to protect himself. “This one’s in bad shape; wonder if he’s worth it.” A gun was aimed at his head.

Your eyes widened.”No!” You tried to claw the man’s hand off of you. “Please don’t.”

He let out a laugh. “Oh, he’s worth it, alright.” Pulling handcuffs out of his back pocket, he threw a pair to his partner. He squeezed your neck tightly, attracting your hands. He quickly slapped a cuff onto one of your wrists. “Turn around.”

You glared defiantly.

“Turn around, or he dies.”

Your eyes flicked between your attacker and Jacob, who couldn’t put up much of a fight in his half lucid state; restraining him took almost no effort at all, and now he had a gun pointed at his brain. 

You gave in, not turning around but allowing him to move you into his desired position to bind your hands behind your back. He leaned into your ear. “When we get back, you’ll be worrying about more than a bullet wound.” 

He pulled you up harshly by the arms. Simultaneously, two gunshots went off. You lost your balance, falling onto your knees. Looking over the bed, you saw Connor and Altair aiming their guns. “Took you long enough!” All tension dissipated from your body, and you almost collapsed. Altair searched the body for the keys. 

“Jacob?” Connor’s voice sounded from behind you.

“Is he okay?” You had your back to him, but Altair kept you straight.

“Two seconds.” When you felt the cuffs fall off your wrists, you immediately went to Jacob. 

Connor had uncuffed him, but he was still unmoving. “Help me turn him over.” Once on his back, Jacob gasped. 

“Great timing,” he quipped sarcastically. 

“Alright, we get it.” Altair pushed Jacob’s shirt up to see the entire square of gauze a dark red.

“Did you stitch him?” He asked calmly, motioning for the first aid kit.

“We got a little preoccupied.” You couldn’t help but feel guilt over Jacob’s deteriorating condition. You passed him the kit from your bag. 

Altair took it and got to work, as if he’d done this a million times before. 

“What about the bullet?”

“I took it out.” 

Altair sighed. “That was meant to stay in, Jacob.”

At this point, all Jacob could do was smile; vague but smug.

“Altair, how do you know all this?”

He didn’t take his eyes off of Jacob as he spoke. “I used to be in the military.” Noticing Jacob had closed his eyes, he snapped his fingers next to his face. Swallowing, Jacob blinked. “Keep him awake, Connor.” He began to suture. “I-uh, a friend of mine died from an injury in the field. It was my fault. He bled out because I never learned how to stitch a fucking wound. I spent hours afterward learning how to deal with field injuries— I wouldn’t let anyone die on me again.”

He wiped the now closed wound with more gauze, and quirked his lips when he saw that no new blood appeared. He covered the wound with more gauze and taped it down to his skin. “And here I thought you hated me.” Jacob chuckled weakly, trying to sit up. 

“No.” Altair pressed his hand against his chest. Instead, he offered a flask of water. “Drink this.” 

Jacob didn’t question anything, doing what the expert told him. 

“We stay here until he recovers some strength. We won’t be able to carry him back to camp.”

“Are you sure it’s safe here? What if more of their group come and see the massacre?” 

“With any luck, they’ll assume that we’re long gone.”

“Okay.” You sat down, pulling Jacob’s head gently into your lap. “Time to get comfy.”

[joon-ipersgirl]

“inked heart” - jjk oneshot

genre: friends to lovers!au, fluff, a teensy dash of angst

pairing: tattoo artist!guk x tattoo artist!reader (f)

summary: jeon jungkook, a rising star in the tattoing world, is looking to take home best large black and white piece at the 25th annual milano tattoo convention. already one to watch from his previous wins as a young artist, pressures rise when his model for the competition cancels half an hour before the show. 

always there when he needs you, you offer to be his model but jungkook is reluctant, especially when the piece is in a more... intimate place. and the fact that he’s been in love with you for the better part of two years. jungkook isn’t too sure how he’s going to survive the next three hours, not when you ask him if he thinks you’re attractive. 

caught between a rock and a hard place, does he lie to you and himself when the prize is on the line? it’s go big or go home...

word count: 5.9k

warnings: some guk pining, cursing, mentions of heartbreaker jimin, the smallest dash of angst about not winning, tattoo artist yoongi

a/n: my first guk piece! thank you guys so much for the love on the preview, especially your comments. they honestly make my day. i hope this lives up to your expectations and you enjoy it just as much. this was a random idea i had and i love tattooed guk so here we are. i tried my best to make sure all the tattoo things were accurate so if they aren’t sorry in advance 😭 this was a lot of fun to write and i’m actually debating on writing some other things for this couple (especially for guk’s birthday), but i’m not sure yet. let me know if y’all are interested though and i’ll see what i can come up with. as always, thank you vi for supporting my shenanigans and reading this like four times lmao. feedback is always welcomed and highly appreciated. enjoy everyone! 

full masterlist // drabbles

Jungkook’s body buzzed with excitement as he squeezed past the bustling bodies at the 25th annual Milano Tattoo Convention. His fourth year at the world’s largest tattooing competition with a chance to take home the prize for “Best Large Black & White” piece against four hundred incredible artists had Jungkook amped up and ready to go. Some of his inspirations - legends in the game - were mere feet away from him as he browsed the almost endless stations filled with merchandise, displays of new tattoo designs, and occupied benches with models. There was almost nothing he enjoyed more than being around the sound of buzzing guns and filling sheets of half-filled paper with sketches his brain had no issues conjuring up but sometimes struggled to complete. Well, except food. And video games. And you. Not really the point though.

He’d been tattooing for almost six years now, from the moment he’d been able to convince Yoongi to let him be his apprentice. Jungkook had wasted no time in starting his own personal tattoo collection, quickly filling in a full sleeve on his right arm going across his right pectoral and another upper half sleeve on his left. Now, he was making his own name in the art world, commissioning pieces solely off his ability to execute various styles well with very little practice. Jungkook was a jack of all trades and very nearly a master of all. He was a risk-taker and it had paid off for him during his time at Milano, taking home “Best Small Black & White” his second year at the ripe age of twenty, and then “Best Medium Black & White” the following year. Yoongi could barely believe it when the judges called his name and announced him the winner but Jungkook knew his mentor’s chest was swollen with pride. This time, though, there were bigger fish to fry - “Best Large Black & White” in a style Jungkook had just begun feeling comfortable with: fine line tattoos.

He paused at the Killer Ink booth where Hori Kashi was working on a beautiful traditional koi fish upper half sleeve design as his phone buzzed. An Instagram notification.

_petuniablooms: hey jungkook! im so sorry this is last minute but i won’t be able to make the convention to be your model. I got a bad case of food poisoning from dinner last night. i hope this doesn’t cost you the comp. but when you’re back in the country, maybe i can schedule an appt? sorry again!

Jungkook blinked slowly. She couldn’t make it? This was not part of his plan. She was supposed to be here in the next half an hour so he would have enough time to complete his piece for judging in four hours. As one of the younger artists at the convention and with immense amounts of talent, people wondered how long Jungkook would be able to sustain his efforts, especially after taking home prizes in one of the major categories two years in a row. Most of them thought he would burn out after his second year or third year, but here he was. Competitive by nature, Jungkook wanted to prove them wrong - that he really did have what it took to be one of the best in the game. A legend in his own right. He shoved his phone back into his black cargo pants pocket and tugged on his curling brown locks. What was he going to do now?

“Guk! Hey, Guk!” He could barely make out your petite frame as you shoved and elbowed your way through the throngs of folk gathered around booths. You were set on getting to him though, your smaller form not holding you back from covering the distance, your brow set in determination whenever he did get glimpses of your face in the crowd.

That was something Jungkook admired about you: your no-nonsense-get-it-done attitude. Friends for almost three years now, he’d seen the way you’d taken charge of almost every opportunity that came your way. You didn’t take no as the final answer and if you couldn’t find a way to make it happen, you created your own. Either way, you got it done. As the first lead female tattoo artist at your shop, Sin City, you’d also made a name for yourself in the tattooing world as a specialist in black and white shading. Your signature though was the three-color-combination color style you developed for your color tattoos. That’s how the two of you had met - the year he’d won “Best Small Black & White”, you’d taken home “Best Medium Color” - and the two of you hadn’t looked back since.

“Gosh, there’s so many people here. It was so hard to find you. I knew I should have checked the Kashi booth first,” you said after finding a pocket of space next to him and hugging his torso.

“Y/N, it’s a convention. Of course there’s going to be a lot of people here,” he replied, wrapping his arms around you, subconsciously looking for comfort in your touch.

Though the two of you mostly had conflicting schedules due to the demand for your work, you did your best to make time for one another. Jungkook had grown accustomed to seeing you every few weeks for lunch or on Friday nights with beer and chicken for Marvel movie marathon weekends. He didn’t dwell on it too much - how ridiculously domestic a lot of your traditions were - not wanting to shake the table and send the precariously perched house of cards pyramid the two of you had created crashing to the ground, upsetting the balance of your friendship. No, Jungkook would leave those thoughts right where they were.

He more felt than saw you roll your eyes as you said, “Yes, Guk. Conventions have lots of people. This just seems like a health and safety hazard though.” Jungkook squeezed you as you pressed closer to him, slightly uncomfortable as more people gathered in the area.

“Alright, let’s go,” he replied, reminding himself to search for the finished koi design afterward as the two of you walked away. “How’d your piece go?”

“So fucking good!” you beamed and turned your face towards him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Though I don’t know if it’ll win this year, the guy seemed to be really pleased and that’s all that matters. Plus, t-shirt sales have gone up. Like way up! Speaking of which, you should buy one. My t-shirt design on your body?” you did the chef’s kiss, “Impeccable!” you exclaimed and grinned.

Your smile was another thing Jungkook admired about you. The faintest dimples appeared when you did and there was almost never a moment when he couldn’t not smile with you. It was a smile that reached your twinkling eyes and illuminated your face with a glow. Like right now, as you’re striking poses and modeling your black and white cityscape background covered with your shop’s name in a candy red color, a tattoo gun positioned to finish the last line of the last letter on the white tee in the middle of the crowded aisle in some of the shortest shorts he’s ever seen you wear in public. When did you get those?

“You know what would look good on my body?” you asked as the pair of you carried on walking. Me, he thought, but knew where this conversation was really going. “One of your tattoo designs!”

Jungkook sighed. “Y/N, we’ve already talked about this -”

“I know, Guk, but you literally have no reason to not tattoo me,” you whined. “You’ve tattooed every single one of your other friends! Hell, even Yoongi has a tattoo by you.”

“Yoongi has what?” the older man asked as he bumped into you two as you passed the registration booth.

“A tattoo by Jungkook,” you pouted, arms crossed.

It wasn’t that Jungkook didn’t want to tattoo you. He just didn’t want to fuck up a design that would be permanently etched into your skin for the rest of your life. He wanted to create something that was beautiful for you, something that really conveyed the importance of your presence in his life, but every time he sat down to do so, nothing seemed good enough. You’d been seriously begging him for the better part of a year to do something - anything - but he’d refused saying that he didn’t have the time. Secretly, he just didn’t want to fail and let you down.

“Ah, that age-old debate. It’ll happen one day, kid,” Yoongi said as he patted your shoulder gently. “What time are you setting up, Jeon? Your model’s supposed to be here soon, right?” Yoongi asked.

“Fuck!” Jungkook shouted, tugging on his hair and startling a few people around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I don’t have one. She can’t make it. I have to find someone else,” he yelled as he took off, no destination really in mind.

“Wait! Guk -” you called after him but he didn’t stop.

Sometimes, being around you was dangerous as Jungkook could quite literally forget what it was he needed to be doing. There was just something about you that made him lose focus, just a little bit. He couldn’t have that right now. Jungkook needed to be on his A-game, scouting a model that would give him consent in - he checked his phone - twelve minutes.

The one time Jungkook needed someone to be interested in his work, there wasn’t a single soul around. Where had all the people who were begging him to schedule them in for a quick session disappeared to? None of the people passing by were interested in getting a random, floral design done by Jeon Jungkook today, unfortunately. It was as though the devil of the tattoo underworld had cursed him the one time he could have used some luck for the sole purpose of being entertained. Circling back to the D-Town Tattoos booth, Jungkook was running out of options. Shit.

“There you are!” you wheezed as you came to a halt and rested your hands on the table in front of you. “Fuck, I forgot how fast you are.”

“Y/N, I don’t have time. I have to find a model -”

“Why don’t you just use Y/N?” Yoongi asked as he calmly took a seat next to his bench, a tall young man following behind him.

“I couldn’t -” Jungkook spluttered, eyes wide.

“Like you said, Jeon, you don’t have time,” Yoongi reminded him, setting up his work station for his client.

Jungkook looked over at you, still slightly hunched over and trying to catch your breath. This was not how he’d wanted to do this. “Are you sure, Y/N? I don’t know if -”

“Fuck yeah, dude!” you said interrupting him. “100%. Let’s do this!”

Jungkook watched as you made yourself comfortable on his workbench, waiting for him to get started. The fact that you weren’t nervous only added to his apprehension, the fear of potentially disappointing you resurfacing and rising in his gut. It felt like he was taking a risk with stakes much higher than he was willing to bet on, but the trust you had in him had him saying, “Okay. Fill out the consent forms and I’ll pull up the design.”

“What are we working with?” you asked curiously, handing the clipboard back over to him, not really reading it and only signing your name in the designated spots.

“Thigh piece,” he murmured, concentrating on finding the correct sketch on his iPad.

“Sounds fun. I know it’s going to be amazing, Guk. Don’t worry,” you reassured him. He smiled warily as you gave his shoulder a tender squeeze.

Nodding more to himself than you, he showed you the design. @_petuninablooms, like her name suggested, loved flowers. So much so, she’d wanted a full piece dedicated to that specific flower as well as whatever other floral arrangements she thought Jungkook could make look pretty against her skin. She’d won his Instagram contest to be his model for free at the convention because of her sentimental design and background as a botanist, something that piqued Jungkook’s interest. Though he was proud of the design, it didn’t seem to fit you.

“I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know if it’ll fit your style,” he said, gesturing to your upper half sleeve. The three faces of Frida Khalo, Nefertiti, and Tomoe Gozen were beautifully designed and organized by you as a symbol of feminine unity - embodying passion, leadership, and grace. A much edgier piece than what currently sat on the screen of his iPad designed for his winner, he wasn’t sure how you’d feel about the softer image.

“I told you, Guk. You could tattoo anything on me and I’d be happy. Maybe even more happy than if you’d let me tattoo you. I just want to have something of yours on me - support your craft, you know? Besides,” you said zooming in on the flowers, your gold rings shining in the light, “I like petunias.” Jungkook wasn’t sure if you were only saying this to make him feel better, but he was grateful for your encouragement anyway.

“Uh, I’m going to need you to take your shorts off,” he said hesitantly. “Yoongi, this isn’t against the rules, right? Like having another artist sit for you?” Jungkook asked, turning to give you some privacy though anyone walking past would be able to see you shimmy out of them as there was no curtain or door to shield you.

“Nope. Not that I’ve read,” Yoongi replied, concentrating on his design. Jungkook nodded, steeling himself to focus and get the job done. What he wasn’t expecting was to see you adjusting the band of some very high-waisted, very skimpy, black panties. He nearly choked.

“Does this need to be further up? If not, I can take them off for you. I don’t -”

“No!” Jungkook cried out as he tore his eyes away from the curve of your ass. “I can just move the stencil. It’ll be fine,” he continued after clearing his throat.

“Okay,” you said awkwardly. Jungkook apologized for his outburst as he wheeled himself over to sit in front of you on his little stool. He was making a much bigger deal of this entire situation that it needed to be. He’d seen you in a bikini before, but something about seeing you in your underwear sitting before him was different.

“Relax, Jeon. It’s only a thigh!” Yoongi teased, his head down but his shit-eating grin very much present as he worked on the shading on his client’s forearm. Though Yoongi would never say anything to you out of respect for Jungkook, Jungkook knew Yoongi enjoyed putting him through the wringer whenever you were around.

“Not just a thigh! It belongs to me. My thigh is prime real estate, Min Yoongi. There’s a lot of artists that have been wanting to get in on this,” you joked. Jungkook laughed as he prepped your skin for placing the stencil with rubbing alcohol, hating the fact that he couldn’t feel your skin through the latex gloves but also grateful for the sensory blocker. He knew you were right though - lots of artists did want to work on you and have you walk around with their work as free endorsement of their skill. Honestly, this was a prime opportunity and he should make the most of it.

“Would you be okay with me changing this larger petunia into a mandala? I know you like those,” Jungkook suggested.

“Guk, this is your piece. I told you, I’m good with whatever,” you said cheerfully.

“Keep talking like that I’ll tattoo my name on your ass,” he quipped as he adjusted the design before placing it.

“Make it your face and we just may have a deal,” you shot back and Yoongi gagged from his corner. Jungkook did not want to think about the potential implication of those words.

He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to survive the next three and a half hours with you making suggestive comments while standing in your barely-there underwear, but he was going to have to. Of course, as friends, you’d always had the occasional flirty banter but the “Best Large Black & White” prize was calling his name and God did he want to win. He double-checked the placement of the design as it stretched from just above your hip bone to finish in the middle of your thigh. His adjustments were so precise, it covered the expanse of your thigh damn near perfectly. Jungkook grinned.

“Ready?” he asked, holding up a mirror as you checked out the placement, twisting from side to side.

“Yeah, looks great. How do you want me?”

Jungkook paused as he set up his rolling tray filled with his ink caps and laid out his sterilized needles. There were more than a few ways he could answer that but he settled on, “However you’re most comfortable. You’re going to be here for a while.”

You laughed and climbed onto the bench, giving Jungkook a perfect view of your ass, before you settled against the leather on your left side. Jungkook adjusted the height of his seat so he could position on your thigh with your bent knee resting against the bench and angled towards him. Confirming you were indeed comfortable, Jungkook gently rubbed the A&D ointment across the first section of the design, taking slightly longer than necessary, and got to work. There was a little over three hours to get it done.

He worked diligently as he traced the fine lines of the flower petals, slipping into his professional mode. A small crowd had gathered around the booth, intrigued to see him work on you. Most of the folks there knew about your friendship from social media and mutual community-work settings, how the two of you had bonded over your shared love of tattoos, but seeing the two of you together like this was a real treat. He didn’t feel any pressure as the cameras fought to get a glimpse of him working though. Jungkook did well under pressure but there was a lot riding on this one piece. For him and for you. He wouldn’t disappoint you though. He couldn’t. Not when you looked so peaceful as he worked on the tattoo. Jungkook would win and make you proud.

“Guk, I have a question.”

“What’s up?”

“Would you fuck me?” Jungkook was thankful he’d removed the needle from your skin to wipe off the extra ointment as there was no doubt in his mind he would have fucked up had it been there.

“What?” he asked, slightly breathless.

“Okay, maybe that was a bit vulgar. I guess what I mean is do you think I’m attractive? Like -” you tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, “- a woman you’d spend the night with. Date long-term. That sort of thing,” you finished. Jungkook swallowed before he spoke.

“Uh, yeah. You’re an attractive person.” Jungkook replied, avoiding eye contact with you as he went back to tracing the lines and tried not to think of you under him, around him, on top of - “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship - since anyone has even asked me on a date. Seokjin never called me back after we went for drinks that one time and Jimin - nevermind actually,” you sighed and Jungkook re-lived the memory of Park Jimin with you - the second man to break your heart in a matter of months. His face soured as he remembered how inconsolable you were the first few months after the breakup and how badly he’d wanted to take a baseball bat to Jimin’s very nice, very expensive car. “Maybe I’m unapproachable. Yoongi, am I unapproachable?” you called over to him.

“Yes,” he said dryly, not bothering to look at you. You scoffed in response.

“You’re never the best person to ask, you old man! People barely talk to you,” you murmured.

“Y/N, you’re great,” Jungkook said in response. “You’re more than great actually, but maybe now isn’t the time to get into a relationship?”

“Why not? I have a stable job, I’m cool -”

“Barely!” Yoongi called over. Jungkook watched you shoot Yoongi the finger before you began speaking again.

“- and I’m charming. It would be nice if someone could appreciate that too, someone that wasn’t only me.”

“Hey! I appreciate you!” Jungkook blurted out, slightly offended.

“Yeah, like a friend. Guk, you know you don’t -”

“Don’t say it. Don’t tell me I don’t count, Y/N.”

“But Jungkook -”

Jungkook paused and set his gun down. “No. No ‘but Guk’, Y/N. I appreciate you, more than you know or understand. I get that we’re friends and I know you value our friendship, but you don’t get to tell me I don’t count because you think you know how I feel about you. Please don’t let your perception of my words and actions let you label them “friendly” when they’re something else.” Jungkook picked his gun back up, avoiding your gaze again, slightly alarmed by his unplanned confession.

“What? What do you mean ‘something different’?” you asked, confused. “Was I supposed to read this any differently after you said -”

“You weren’t supposed to know. You weren’t supposed to find out - not like this at least,” he muttered. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Just don’t count me out okay, Y/N? Not this time. Can we talk about this later though? I just -”

Before he could finish, Jungkook’s alarm went off, signaling only an hour and a half left before he needed to be taking you for judgement. “Okay, Guk. I won’t count you out. Finish,” you said softly as you nodded to your tattoo and chewed your lip in thought.

With time against him, you and Jungkook no longer conversed, though the conversation rattled in his brain like loose change in a tin can. He would need much more than a penny for his thoughts if he wanted to get out of this situation. The hasty confession had Jungkook wondering if he’s said too much too soon. Had he finally sent the house of cards tumbling down? It’s not that he hadn’t wanted to say anything, but the fear of you not meaning what you’d said frightened him. Memories of the two of you curled up on his aging leather sofa flickered across his mind’s eye and he wondered if this fuck up was worse than the time he’d quickly denied having any romantic feelings for you the morning after a drunk confession and you’d reciprocated the feelings. It had taken a few months for things to return back to any type of normal, an uneasy tension having over you both whenever you’d met up. Every few seconds his eyes flitted to your face, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever you were thinking sprawled across your forehead in your big, looping handwriting but your eyes were closed and your face fairly serene as you let him work in silence.

And work he did, shoving the thoughts to the back of his mind, finishing the last lines of the final petunia and filling in the mandala with various degrees of shading. He admired the delicacy of his work against your smooth skin, deciding it did suit you, much more than he could have hoped. Jungkook was actually slightly disappointed he was close to finishing, already missing the intimacy of working on you, but also eager to get you on stage so people could see his work. He’d gotten lost in the act like he usually did, concentration never breaking as the rest of the Milano Convention continued in full effect around him. Why had he waited so long to do this? You were a dream to work on, never flinching even as he finished up the minute shading of your tattoo, the worst part for many people. A true tattoo veteran with a hell of a pain tolerance. Roughly ten minutes left in the session, Jungkook wrapped up the piece.

“All done,” he said softly, wiping away the excess ointment and admiring his work briefly.

He heard you gasp as you propped yourself up to get a better view of it. “Holy fuck, Jungkook! It’s perfect. I love it!” you whispered in amazement and Jungkook smiled, relieved to not have disappointed you.

“Let me get some pictures, yeah?” You nodded and Jungkook snapped a few shots, promising to send them to you after the convention ended.

“Looks good, Jeon. And you got it done in time. You learned well,” Yoongi chuckled as Jungkook weakly punched his shoulder. “Are you happy, Y/N?” Yoongi asked as he packed up his spare equipment while his client waited patiently to be escorted to judging.

“Happy?” you scoffed, checking the tattoo out again in the mirror. “How about fucking ecstatic? I’m absolutely in love. Seriously Guk, thank you,” you beamed and launched yourself at him for a hug. Jungkook made eye contact with Yoongi as he held you tight in his arms, the older man relaying a silent message to his younger apprentice through raised eyebrows and crossed arms.

“Alright, alright. You can stare at it more later. We have to get to the judges and make it through all these people so,” Jungkook trailed off, letting you go while simultaneously ushering you out of their designated little space. Agreeing, you grabbed your teeny shorts and shoved your feet back into your sneakers. Jungkook stayed close behind you in an effort to cover your very visible, very exposed ass from peering eyes as you moved through the crowd. As much as he hated to admit it, he was really protective of you.

The trek to the judging station wasn’t as official as the name made it sound. It was really just a small stage raised a few inches above the ground with a table and enough chairs to seat the three judges as artists and their models were scored based on design, complexity, and overall execution. This year’s judges were Jung Hoseok of J’s Tailored Tattoos, Kim Namjoon of Mono & Moon, and Kim Taehyung of Vintage Vante. The three of them were rightfully deemed the gods of the tattoo world and Jungkook looked up to them immensely, each of them having numerous titles on the world stage in countries like Brasil, the United Kingdom, and Australia. Nerves rolled in Jungkook’s belly as he waited in the crowd with you for the host to call his name. A win with these guys as the judges would really put some of those naysayers in their place and Jungkook shuffled in place behind you, antsy.

“What’s wrong, Guk?’ you whispered to him as another artist and model headed on stage.

“What if they don’t like it?” he murmured anxiously.

“Do you like it?” Jungkook nodded. “Then that’s all that really matters. You’re insanely talented and I know they’re some of your role models, but they’re fucked if they don’t see how incredible you are. You’ve got this, Guk,” you said in a hushed tone as Yoongi took the stage with his model from earlier. Jungkook smiled into the back of your head as you stood in front of him and gave his hand a squeeze. Jungkook could always count on you.

It was now his turn. Standing with one hand tucked into his pocket and the other firmly gripping your shorts, Jungkook watched as the judges made their notes on their scoring sheets. You turned graciously to give all three of them the best view of the tattoo. And while he knows that there are probably a few people who’d be overjoyed at the challenges he faced to get to this moment, Jungkook didn’t care. Not when your uplifting words still wrapped around him, affirming his skill and talents. He was proud of what he’d accomplished today and while winning was the ultimate goal, he was also at ease because he’d succeeded in fulfilling one of your wishes and you were happy. Jungkook could only smile as you showered him with praise and tried to convince him to tattoo you again as the judging continued.

The two of you stood with Yoongi, chatting as the judges tallied up the scores. He tried to stay still as he watched the host organize the names of the winning artists, losing interest in the conversation as the judges confirmed the final results. One by one, the host read the categories and its corresponding champion. “For Best Medium Color,” the host paused for dramatic effect, “Min Yoongi!” Jungkook cheered loudly with you as his mentor took the stage with his model showing off the antique pocket watch and a royal flush poker hand on top of a wispy background.

Jungkook’s heart hammered in his chest, the sensation almost worse than his first year at the convention as Best Large Black & White was read out. Though he wanted to look calm and collected on the outside, Jungkook was sure he looked anything but. The audience created their own drumroll as the anticipation built - “Jeon Jungkook!”

Your squeal kickstarted Jungkook’s brain as he processed his win. He’d really done it? A few people around him clapped him on the shoulders in congratulations as he was pushed towards the stage to collect his prize and take his place beside the host. “Congratulations, Jungkook! One of the few artists to take home all three wins in one category,” the host announced. If only they knew what it took to get there. Jungkook felt like he was on cloud nine as he shook hands with the judges and took his picture with you and them, prize in hand. He knew he was positively glowing with pride.

“Guk, you did it! I told you that you could!” you cheered as you bounced up and down in happiness and excitement as they moved onto Best Large Color. He smiled down at you and unable to help himself any longer, he scooped you up into his arms, burying his face in your neck.

“Thank you, Y/N!” He repeated the phrase earnestly as if saying it over and over again would finally let you understand just how grateful he was but all it really did was make you giggle as his breath tickled your skin. “Seriously, I really couldn’t have done this without you.”

“I know,” you joked and flipped your hair. You both laughed and you pulled him in for another hug as you said, “Of course, Guk. I’m always here for you. Always,” you punctuated with a squeeze and a smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” he agreed. “You are always here for me,” he said vaguely as he stared down at you in his arms.

“Guk?” you queried as he stared off into the distance.

“This isn’t happening because I won. I don’t want you to think that I only do things like this when I’m any sort of intoxicated, okay?” Jungkook clarified as his confidence grew.

“Things like what?”

“Like confess and kiss you,” he stated.

“Kiss me? You’ve never-”

“Yes, I know I’ve never kissed you. But I want to. Is that okay?” Jungkook asked seriously.

“Yes. More than okay,” you whispered.

It was all Jungkook needed to hear. He was finally kissing you. A soft kiss that grew the longer you stood pressed together in the middle of the convention floor. Jungkook had had his fair share of first kisses, but yours was the one he’d remember for the rest of his life. Maybe because it was you. Maybe that’s why it would always be his favorite. He’d always refrained from putting himself in any situation where he’d be even the slightest bit tempted but now, after having you, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let you go. The overwhelming sensation that it was actually happening was quickly quelled by the insurmountable joy he felt as you kissed because it was actually happening.

Jungkook may have ascended into another plane as your fingers curled into the hair at the base of his neck and you pulled him further into you. Though he really didn’t want you to think he was only doing this because he’d won, the courage it gave him really did help. The feeling of winning nearly paled in comparison from the brief, sweet taste that was you. Even if he’d never won tonight, he would have considered himself a winner regardless from the kiss alone. Jungkook sighed into you as he savored the moment. Through the pounding of blood in his ears, he could vaguely make out the hoots and hollers of passerbyers as he held you close. Lost in you once again, Jungkook forced himself to remember your earlier conversation.

“Did you really mean it though?” he asked, one arm still wrapped tightly around your waist and the other holding onto his golden plaque.

“Mean what?”

“Not counting me out.”

“Did you mean what you said?” you countered. “Even if I wasn’t supposed to find out this way.”

“Yes, and all the times before then,” he answered truthfully. “So, does this mean you’ll have me?”

“Absolutely. Totally. With my entire hea-” He pressed repeated kisses against your mouth, your teeth clashing as you both smiled, neither of you willing to break apart until a familiar voice cleared its throat.

“I leave for five minutes and this is how I find you. Took you long enough though. Be that as it may, are you done?” Yoongi asked, expression wry and his own prize peeking out of his duffle bag. “I could use some food before we head back to the hotel and Y/N is going to need that tattoo bandaged.”

“Right, right,” Jungkook answered and let you go albeit reluctantly. “We’ll meet you at the car?” Yoongi nodded.

“Don’t take forever. I will leave you. Both of you,” Yoongi warned as he headed off to the exit without any further questions.

Back at the booth, Jungkook applied a generous amount of ointment to the piece before securing it with a bandage and double-checking the tape. Helping you step into your shorts, he smiled at the tattoo. Not only would it be a great reminder of a great win, it would also signify the milestone in your friendship - relationship? - was taking. “Told you that you should’ve tattooed me sooner,” you quipped as you gingerly pulled up your shorts.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he asked, playing along as he quickly packed up his things.

“You would have won much sooner,” you murmured, standing before him.

“Really? What would have been my prize instead? Because that plaque is pretty great.” Jungkook sat his bag on the ground and rested his hands on your hips.

“Better than me?” you grinned and he pressed his lips to yours again.

“Looks like I’ll have to come up with another design then,” he hummed.

“Or you can let me and I can tattoo you,” you suggested with a devilish grin.

“And what do you propose?”

“My name. Right here,” you pointed to the empty space on the left side of his chest.

“Only if you let me tattoo my face on your ass,” he joked and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Deal,” you laughed.

Jungkook said nothing further, only smiled as he laced his fingers between yours and tugged you in the direction of the exit. “Great. I’ll have everything arranged,” he replied. Laughing with you in these moments meant so much to him and while he wasn’t sure what would happen between you after you left the convention and headed home, he would take pleasure in these moments for as long as you’d let him. As the two of you exited the building and hustled across the busy street to the parking garage so Yoongi wouldn’t have an excuse to leave you, Jungkook wondered if you’d known that your name had been inked over his heart a long, long time ago.

full masterlist // drabbles

ⓒ joon-ipersgirl, 2020

[killiansprincss]

We Found Wonderland

Summary: Trapped in the past after the S3 finale, Killian and Emma are forced to fade into the background as a newly married couple in a village while Rumplestilskin works on the portal to send them back to the future. (No Marian)

What challenges will they face, after all it’s only pretending to be married after all right?

Inspired by Taylor Swift ‘Wonderland’

Read on AO3

Huge thanks to @captain-emmajones for reading this over for me as I was going insane after editing it for weeks

Happy New Year to all! They say to start the year off as you mean to go on, and my goal for 2021 is to write more so I really hope you enjoy it!

Set just after the CS movie, no Marian.

We found Wonderland

You and I got lost in it

And we pretended it could last forever 

________

Emma had realised on this trip that Storybrooke was her home. Not Boston or New York. Yes things were messy and dangerous in Storybrooke. But it was home. It was where her family was.

She had longed for a family for 28 years especially after the foster system failed her and after Neal abandoned her. But when the boy she gave up for adoption asked her to come home with her, it changed her life. Even if she didn’t believe in the curse at first, she knew it was a place she could eventually call home.

She wasn’t scared anymore. For once, she was excited about the future and what it would bring. And Hook.

This trip had shown a side to him she hadn’t seen before. She knew he had feelings for her, and as much as she tried to suppress her own feelings for him, he was different this trip. He wasn’t pining for her or making his usual stupid flirty jokes. It was clear he cared about her family, he wasn’t selfish.

Kissing Other Hook was an adventure. But seeing her Hook get jealous and punch the other him was even better. She could see in his eyes it was killing him that she was flirting with the other him, way more than she had with him. And she wasn’t going to deny that she enjoyed it.

“You alright love?” Hook's voice pulled her away from her thoughts.

She smiles at him as they walk into Rumple’s Castle, “Yeah. Just excited to get home.”

“Well dearie it’s gonna be awhile before you can do that.” Rumples voice cuts through as they walk into the great hall.

“What the bloody hell does that mean Crocodile?” Hook asks, anger in his voice.

Rumple just laughs, “well it’s not just a portal that I could do easily for you. Time travel has never been done before, except for you two. It’ll take me around a year to create that portal for you two.”

“IM SORRY-A YEAR?”

“A YEAR?”

Both Emma and Hook's voices respond to this sudden realisation.

“You’re telling me, it’s gonna be a year, until we can go home to the future?” Emma asks, hoping she heard wrong.

“Were you not listening?” Rumple asks.

“So we have to stay here for a year while you figure out the stupid portal?” Hook looks angry, like he could use the dagger on Rumple so quickly.

“W-what about preserving the future?” Emma asks, she can’t stay here for a year. She can’t.

“Well you’ve already messed up your parents timeline and they’re still on track. I have no use for you in my castle, so I’ll place you two under a glamour spell in a small little village where hopefully you’ll make little impact. After you’re gone, I can erase the minds of the villagers.” Rumple explains while Emma is still trying to wrap her head around staying here for a whole year.

“My parents just met and are on track to get married and have me. It’s around 2 years before I’m born and the curse strikes. The portal will be ready by then right?”

Rumple just rolls his eyes at Emma. “I’m not an idiot. I say it’ll be a year, it’ll be a year.”

“Then what the bloody hell do we do?” Hook slams his hand down on the table.

Rumple looks as though he could kill him, but he just laughs. “Well I considered keeping you here in my dungeon. But alas I already have my help. You two will be a newly married couple that just moved to this part of the land. You can work at the tavern or something, I don’t really care. I’ll be in touch when the portal is ready.”

“Married?” The two exclaim at the same time.

“Are you two having trouble hearing?” Rumple asks, rolling his eyes.

—————

After probably an hour quarrelling with the Dark One about their arrangement, they’re transported to a small village and a hut that they guess they would have to call home for the next year. It had one large room, with one bed in the corner, a fireplace and what seemed like a stove to the left of the door and a few chairs by the table. It was small alright, and she had no clue how they were going to last a year in this place.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Emma says as she looks around.

Rumple laughs, “I'll be in touch when your portal is ready.” And vanishes a second later.

The pair look around at their home. Seeing the one bed Killian quickly offers, “You take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor or somewhere it’s fine.”

Emma shakes her head, “no way, you take the bed. I have slept in my car and much worse places before. You take it.”

Hook just laughs, “you really are a stubborn lass. Look, it’s big enough for the both of us. It’ll be fine as long as we stay on our respective sides, no use arguing. We’re going to be here a while, no use one of us being uncomfortable.”

Emma reluctantly agrees.

The first night is the hardest, knowing she won’t see her family, Henry, for a whole year was a lot to wrap her head around. She had really enjoyed this trip when she wasn’t scared for her life, she had seen her parents fall in love and it made her finally understand what that meant, to be born of true love, the true love they had just witnessed.

And Hook. Or rather Killian, she should get used to saying his real name. She couldn’t quite admit to herself that she was falling for him before this trip. It would be a lot simpler if they were going back to Storybrooke, she probably would’ve given him a chance, a date perhaps, and see where it ends up. But this wasn’t Storybrooke. It wasn't even her time. She couldn’t risk whatever they had, not when they had to rely on each other to get home.

The next morning, Emma wakes to find they hadn’t exactly stuck to their respective sides. Killian’s arm was around her waist and she had tucked her head into his chest. It looked very cosy, and to an outsider it would seem they were truly a happy couple. But they weren’t.

Killian luckily wakes around the same time and, noticing the situation they’ve found themselves in, removes his arm and the two don’t say anything about the situation.

Except it keeps happening.

Every. Single. Night.

____

The next few days were spent discussing what their story would be. They had decided that Killian had been discharged from the Royal Navy because of the accident where lost his hand, and they were used to travelling but now had to find somewhere to settle down as a newly married couple.

They found jobs, Emma as the barmaid in the local tavern, similar to the one where she flirted with Other Hook. Killian found a job working by the docks so that he was still close to the water, it was mainly cleaning and anchoring the boats, very different to his pirate days. But it allowed them to slip into the background, not being noticed by anybody and not making any drastic changes to the future.

“How was your day, love?” Killian asks as Emma comes through the door after a long day working in the bar.

Untying her corset, trying to get out of the horrible clothes she tells him,“Horrible. I hate it here.”

Killian looks up at his ‘wife’, “that bad?”

Emma sits down on the chair. “I had 3 separate men try to buy me a drink whilst I was working. I told them I was working, and that I was married and they still tried to touch me up.”

Killian chuckles, “I’m guessing they aren’t going to do that again.”

Emma smiles, “of course not. I hope they won’t be needing their fingers for a while. How was your day?”

“It wasn’t bad. Can’t say I don’t love being by the water but it’s not the same. Although Cassian said he and his wife want to invite us over for dinner one night this week. Said that he wants to see the wife I don’t talk about enough.” He explains, he knows how Emma feels about getting too close with the other villagers, but if they avoid them for too long it could end up much worse.

“You mean you don't talk about your incredible and very hot wife, all day every day? Why did I marry you?” Emma teases. Their relationship has been like this ever since they got stuck, flirting and teasing but never going any further. “I know we can’t avoid other people forever, it’ll only cause more suspicion, so I guess we can meet them for dinner this time.”

“If this dinner goes well, I will start to talk about my incredible wife some more.” Killian teases back, “about how she’s messy and violent and she snores loudly when she sleeps.”

This earns a laugh from Emma, but also a pillow thrown at his head as she changes out of her corset. She’s never complaining about fitting into jeans again.

~~~

A week passes, more shifts at the tavern and more sleazy drunk men who probably have wives and children at their homes.

Emma earns 10 silvers and 15 bronze a week, Killain, 1 gold 9 silver and 12 bronze a week, which Killian told her is decent money, it allows them to feed themselves with food bought from the market, and buy more clothes which are not comfortable in the slightest. She hates the corsets. Luckily. She only has to wear them at work, the clothes she wears outside of work, whilst ugly and plain, are much more comfortable.

Emma wonders if she’s ever seen any of these villagers in Storybrooke, maybe they’re teachers or shop workers. Did they currently have a horrible life, and even though they’re cursed for 28 years, does it get better for them once they’re in Storybrooke?

The day finally arrived that the two of them have to go to dinner with one of the guys Killian works with. And Emma is petrified, it was fine just the two of them going about their days and telling their story to those around, separately. But telling their story together, they’d never done this. Would they know something was up? Would they know they were lying?

Killian can tell she’s tense, so he takes her hand in his and brushes his thumb over hers over and over. He knows her, he can tell when she’s stressed and knows that this calms her.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he whispers to her as they approach their friends home.

“Killian! So good to see you!” A blonde man opens the door, Cassian, Emma assumes. “Welcome, please come on in.”

Killain smiles and takes Emma’s hand in his as they walk through the door.

“May I introduce my beautiful wife, Emma.” Killian says gesturing to Emma who holds out her hand to shake, assured by Killian this was still the proper greeting in the Enchanted Forest.

“Emma. You are as beautiful as Killian has described. May I introduce my wife, Maeve.” Cassian smiles gesturing to a heavily pregnant woman beside him.

“It’s so kind of you to invite us into your lovely home.” Emma smiles, trying to keep her cool composure.

——

The night is pretty simple, they go over the story of how long they’ve been here, Killians time in the Navy, mostly true stories of his actual time, just a fabricated truth to fit the time and their fake timeline. The food was pretty good for the Enchanted Forest, some type of meat, pork or beef maybe, with rice, beans and vegetables. It was okay, but Emma was really missing grilled cheese.

Cassian and Maeve are really lovely people. They discover Maeve normally works at the market, but picks up extra shifts at the Tavern that Emma works at to make extra money, but is taking time off due to her pregnancy. Emma wouldn’t call it Maternity Leave as she was pretty sure it wasn’t a thing in the Enchanted Forest. Maeve said she was convinced it was a boy, but Cassian was sure it was a girl.

“Have you two thought about children yet?” Maeve asks.

Emma almost spits out her water. “Um great question. Um.” She decides to tell a fabricated truth, make it more believable. “I had a son, when I was younger, before I met Killian. I lost him, and I don’t know if I will ever see him again.” Truthfully, she didn’t want to make up a lie about her and Killian, they were not married, they were not together.

“It's a cruel fate to fall pregnant when young and unmarried. I’m sorry to hear that. I wish you the best for the future.” Cassian tells her. She smiles, thanking that they didn’t ask any more questions on the subject.

But there was one story, one question that really fucked Emma up. It was asked by Maeve when she wanted to know more about their marriage.

“So how did you decide you wanted to marry Emma, Killian? I can tell you two married for love, did you plan a romantic proposal or was it a spur of the moment type thing? Cassian proposed to me with his mother’s ring, he took me to the market stall where we first met. I was selling grain and he kept coming back every day for more grain. After weeks of coming to the stall he admitted the truth. A few months later, he took me back to the spot we first met and said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. Of course I said yes!”

Emma looks over at Killian, hoping he has something to say. “You tell it so well Killian! He’s such a romantic my Killian!”

Killain looks at Emma and smiles. “So I lost my brother at sea years ago, and the only thing I have left of him is his ring. It’s kept me safe all these years, and when I met Emma I knew she was special. She didn’t like me very much at first, but I wore her down. She’s stubborn like my brother, so I knew I had to give her his ring. I took her down to the water, it’s not where we first met but it's where we both come when the world feels on top of us. Not much in my life has felt right since losing my brother, but Emma came into my life and she filled that void. So I took her to the water, got down on one knee and told her I couldn’t imagine my life without her. We don’t have much in terms of money, but we have each other and I think that’s enough.”

Was he serious right now? Emma thought he would maybe change up the story of how he wanted to marry Milah or something, but that was far too descriptive and emotional for it to be a lie or a fabrication. He had clearly thought about it, a little too much, Emma thinks.

Maeve was practically crying. “That is a beautiful story. You two are lucky to have found one another.”

She was going to murder him.

I’m sorry this is all that the Tumblr limit will let me post, check out part 2 here

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 3: Signed In Blood]

Series summary: You are an overwhelmed and disenchanted nurse in Boston, Massachusetts. Queen is an eccentric British rock band you’ve never heard of. But once your fates intertwine in the summer of 1974, none of your lives will ever be the same...

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, physical frailty, sneaky foreshadowing.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

The cashier blinks at you as he scans the items in your basket: two Cokes, an orange juice, a Mountain Dew, a grape Fanta, a box of Ritz crackers, a KitKat, three packs of cherry Pop Rocks, and assorted bags of Lay’s chips. “You must have, like, a lot of kids.”

“Something like that.”

Terminal E of Logan International Airport is bustling with swiftly-moving businessmen dragging rolling suitcases, tidy-looking flight attendants, careening toddlers and frazzled mothers. The band is waiting at the gate; their plane to Heathrow is scheduled to board in thirty minutes. Our plane, you correct yourself. I’m going too.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I ran out of paper bags but I can check in the back if you want—”

“Oh no,” you protest, slapping a ten-dollar bill onto the counter and gathering up the snacks. You’ve cultivated a stubborn solidarity with your fellow service industry employees. “That’s cool, I’ve got it. Thanks. Have a great day!”

“You too! Good luck with your kids!”

You laugh as you trot away. Yes, my very large, extremely anarchic British children. You could have sent Freddie and Rog for the snacks, but you don’t trust them not to try to steal something and end up getting strip-searched by TSA; Brian is still too weak to go anywhere alone; and John...well, John dissolves into blood-red cheeks and averted eyes if you ask him anything. You weave through the crowded terminal, shifting your arms to keep the snacks centered.

“Wow, you have your hands full there!”

You peer around the heap to see a businessman in a powder blue suit, neatly combed black hair, mid-thirties, benign smile. Your arms are beginning to ache. “Ha, yeah. I guess I do.”

“Need some help?” he asks, still smiling.

“Oh, thank you so much, but I’ve got it—”

“Nonsense.” He cheerfully plucks the chips and Pop Rocks out of your grasp. “Where are we going?”

Oh no. You know this type of man. He’s the guy who flirts with the nurses while his wife is recovering from a gallbladder removal, who tries to impress you with his mid-level accounting job and Marshall Field's neckties, who obliviously—or worse, forcefully—offers assistance when it’s least desired. He’s the type to play superhero so he can get a taste of what it feels like to be someone who matters. He’s not usually dangerous, but he is viperous if his fantasy gets interrupted, bitter and desperate and striking out like a wounded animal. Jesus christ, I do not have time for this bullshit today. The muscles in your forearms are screaming now. “Seriously, I can handle it. Thank you. Can I get my snacks back? My friends are waiting.”

His smile falters; suddenly, Mr. Aspiring Superman doesn’t seem so benign at all. And you can’t help but notice that his grip around your criminally overpriced airport snacks doesn’t loosen. Oh fucking hell. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Are you stupid or something? Don’t you get it, I’m trying to help—”

“Hey, baby!” chimes a voice from nowhere. An arm appears around your shoulders, pulling you in; John lands a series of kisses across your neck and jawline as the businessman gawks, speechless and horrified. “Did you finish shopping? Oh, you remembered my Coke! Thanks, baby. You’re the best. Come on, they’re gonna start boarding soon...” He stops, stares at the businessman, points with narrowed steely grey eyes: “Are those my Pop Rocks?”

“Uh, uh, yeah, uh...” The man hastily shoves the snacks into John’s hands and flees. John immediately backs away from you, clears his throat, casts his eyes down the opposite end of the airport terminal.  

“Oh my god,” you say, stunned. “I’ve never heard you talk that much at once. Ever.”

He flushes and combs his agile fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I’m so sorry, I just thought...I saw that he was...I figured that would get him to piss off without causing a scene...I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that, I—”

“No, John, seriously, that was brilliant. Thank you.”

“Yeah?” And you think you can detect something in his voice like hope: cautious, fragile hope. More than that, you can still feel his lips against your skin, hot and sure and assertive, almost dominating.

You grin over at him as you walk together towards the gate. “I bet everyone thinks you’re real innocent because you’re the shy, quiet, mysterious one or whatever. But you have some serious game under all of that, don’t you?”

John chuckles out of pure shock, still not looking at you. “I doubt it.”

“I’m onto you, bassist. Those groupies aren’t going to know what hit them.”

Wait, he has a girlfriend, isn’t that what Freddie said? But if he does, John doesn’t correct you.

“Do I see my beloved Pop Rocks?!” Roger squeals when he spies you both. John tosses all three packets to him. Roger rips one open, pours the entirety of the contents into his mouth, then motions for you to pass him the can of grape Fanta. He gulps the Fanta and drums his palms against his thighs as his mouth erupts into sugary explosions.

“Majestic,” you comment.

“Wha...?! I will not be outdone!” Freddie seizes all the remaining Pop Rocks—both packs—and empties them into his mouth, then douses them with Coke. Dark fizzing soda and ruby crystals spew out of his nose. Roger throws back his head and cackles like a hyena as John launches balled-up napkins at Freddie. You ignore them and check on Brian, who is lounged sideways across five seats.

“How you doing, Bri?”

He groans in reply. You give him the orange juice and Ritz crackers.

“Eat, please, Bri.”

“I can’t. I’m dying.”

“You aren’t bloody dying!” Freddie sighs, exasperated, still mopping Coke off his face.

You lay the back of your hand against Brian’s forehead and frown. “You’re burning up, Mr. May.”

“I’ve got aspirin somewhere...” Roger says as he rummages through his luggage.

“He can’t have it. His liver’s still recovering, no over-the-counter meds.” You take two still-cold cans—your Mountain Dew and Bri’s orange juice—and press them to Brian’s cheeks. John, without speaking, lays his Coke against the back of Brian’s neck. “Think you can make it through a six-hour flight?”

Brian’s glassy eyes roam to you. “No offense, but I would literally rather be disemboweled by rabid opossums than spend another night in Boston.”

“Opossums very rarely contract rabies. But your point is noted. We’ll get you home.”

“Thank you,” Brian breathes, drained. “And thank you, John.”

“Not a problem.”

Freddie squats in front of Bri in skin-tight jeans littered with patches, brushes the mess of curls off Brian’s forehead, and pushes a Ritz cracker into his mouth. Brian grimaces but chews it reluctantly. Freddie grins. “You must be truly desperate to trust your wellbeing to Deaky.”

“He’s unexpectedly ferocious,” you warn Brian. “He ran off some creep at the snack stand. Kid could definitely murder you if he tried.”

“Yeah? Well done, Deaks!” Roger gives John a high-five, then aggressively ruffles his hair and growls. “Who’s my favorite little killer bassist?! Grrr. Grrrrrrrrr. Come on. Show me them pearly whites, Mack the Knife.”

John chomps at Roger’s hands in his very best impression of a shark. Roger laughs and yanks teasingly at John’s hair, his face lit up like the Boston Harbor on the Fourth of July.

The next time you look for Freddie, he’s disappeared. You finally spot him several seats away, bent over a notebook and scribbling furiously, snapping his fingers over and over again and murmuring to himself: “Killer bassist...killer woman...killer bitch...killer queen.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When boarding begins, Freddie and Roger practically carry Brian onto the plane. They drop him into a window seat and Brian promptly drapes a sweater over his head and falls asleep. You sit beside him and flip through a fashion magazine you found in the pocket on the back of the chair in front of you, but Roger keeps interrupting by ranking the pictured outfits on a scale of one to eleven.

“Why eleven?”

“Because I gave that neon yellow coat three pages ago a ten, but now I like these rainbow pants even more. So they have to be an eleven.”

“Okay Roger.”

Freddie and John sit in the row in front of you and alternate between scrawling in their notebooks—song lyrics for Freddie, sketches of some kind of amplifier for John—and tossing peanuts into each other’s mouths. John doesn’t speak to you, but he keeps glimpsing back between the seats like he’s considering it. When Roger gets up two hours in to take a smoke break and chase down extra peanut packets for Freddie, John finally turns around and peeks over his seat.

“Why don’t opossums get rabies?” he asks.

“That’s what’s on your mind?” you tease, sipping Mountain Dew.

“Maybe.”

“Okay. Buckle up. It’s technically possible for opossums to get rabies. But they have naturally super low body temperatures, like 94 or 95 degrees Fahrenheit. So the virus usually can’t survive in their system. Thus, squeaky clean opossums.”

“Well. Minus the ticks and fleas and dirt and rubbish and all that.”

“Most of the cute things in life are at least slightly grubby.”

“Like Roger Taylor.”

You laugh. “That man has definitely been submerged in garbage at some point.”

“You have no idea. But you have to learn to be a Londoner now. We wouldn’t say grubby, we’d say dodgy.”

“Dodgy. Got it.”

“Show me. Use it in a sentence.”

“Roger is super dodgy, while Brian is much less so. Jury’s still out on John.”

“Well done.” He applauds.

Now you reach out to touch his hair, like Roger did earlier; it’s impossibly soft and downy, comforting, almost homey. John smiles patiently. “You have fantastic bone structure, you know,” you tell him. “You should cut this off one day so people can see it.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. But in the meantime...” You gently thread your fingertips through his locks, twirl a strand, observe that those blue-grey eyes that seemed steely back at the airport are now as soft and innocuous as morning fog. Roger reappears with his loot of peanut packets and gasps, pretending to be scandalized.

“What’s going on here?! Jesus, Deaks, I leave you alone for three minutes and you’ve got her all enamored with your soft cuddly exterior and latent homicidal tendencies.”

“It’s a winning combination.” John catches the peanuts that Roger hurls his way and turns to split them with Freddie.

You gaze up at Roger and beam. “Hey, dodgy Rogey.”

“Oh, you think that’s charming?” He slinks into his seat and drapes an arm across your shoulders. “You realize you’re one of us now, right? That makes you dodgy too.”

“As long as I don’t have to participate in any scandalous naked photoshoots.”

“Oh my god, that was one time! Freddie, Fred, hey, Freddie, why would you show her those...?!”

Hours later, when the plane hits the runway at Heathrow, Brian jolts awake and clutches for you like a staircase railing. He’s cooler to the touch now, appears less feverish, insists he feels better; nevertheless, Freddie and Roger escort him all through the airport like intense and sunglasses-armored Secret Service agents flanking Nixon, steadying him on escalators and dragging his luggage. As the five of you descend into the arrivals area, Freddie points to a group of young women and shrieks in delight, waves, blows flirtatious kisses all the way down the steps.  

“Freddie!” the blonde one calls, leaping in her heels and grinning enormously. She’s holding a large, glittery sign that reads: Welcome home, Queen! Freddie races to meet her, sweeps her off her feet, dips her halfway to the floor and kisses her deeply, theatrically. The blonde woman in his arms giggles and buries her fingers in his mane of shining black hair.

“Darling?” Freddie says, spinning to find you, flourishing his artful hands. “This is Mary Austin, the love of my life. Mary, this is our new best friend, Florence Nightingale.”

“Well,” you confess. “That’s not my actual name, obviously. It’s—”

“I quite like Florence Nightingale,” John says. “I’ve always fancied the name Florence. That’s where Dante was from. He was exiled during some political conflict and ended up bouncing around all over Italy. He eventually landed in Ravenna and finished The Divine Comedy there. By the time he died, he hadn’t seen Florence in twenty years. But Florence was always home.” He smiles at you in an off-kilter, crafty sort of way that tells you you’ve at last been admitted into the diminutive, highly selective circle of people that John calls friends; and you feel like you’ve won the lottery for the second time in forty-eight hours.

“Hmm,” Freddie replies, puzzled. Mary nods uncertainly. Then John turns to greet a petite auburn-haired girl in a simple turquoise sundress and with long, bone-white legs.

Brian pulls you away to introduce you to his girlfriend, the one he was always trying to call on the hospital phone. He rests his hands on your shoulders as he presents you. “Chrissie, I love this woman.”

Chrissie glowers and crosses her arms. “Oh.”

“Wait, no, sorry, I mean she saved my life. She was my nightshift nurse in Boston. I was completely lost before she found me, tremendously depressed. You know how I get. She’s come to London to look after me. Then we’re going to convince the record company to hire her as our travel nurse.”

“Oh!” Now Chrissie softens. She has wavy brunette hair, plump cheeks, marvelous wide-set blue eyes, a completely uncomplicated presence. She embraces you kindly, gratefully. “Thank you so much, love.”

“No, please, it was my pleasure! Bri is a perfect gentleman. And a genius. But you already know that.”

“Chris, I was hoping she could borrow our couch for a few days until she finds her own place...”

“Of course!” Chrissie replies, fussing with your hair, studying you, her mind roiling. “What’s ours is yours. But it’s not much, I’ll warn you.”

“I’ll pay rent. And cook and clean. I’ll be a certified house wench.”

Chrissie laughs, then screams as Brian staggers and collapses to the floor. “Bri—?!”

“He’s alright,” you announce calmly as everyone crowds around. You claw through your luggage, pull out an instant cold pack, crack it and press it to Brian’s forehead. He stirs and mumbles something about New Orleans. “Rog, can you flag down a taxi? We gotta get him home.”

“Sure, you got it.” Roger darts off. And as Chrissie, Freddie, Mary, John, and John’s girlfriend—whom you gather from their conversation is named Veronica—scuttle to reassure Brian and fetch him water, you lock stares with Josephine. Roger’s girlfriend—super casual, not exclusive, that’s what he told me—is beautiful and slim and tan and dark-eyed and, worse than all of that, palpably clever. She considers you silently, and what crosses through her pristine, heart-shaped face is not mere suspicion but knowing; and perhaps there is acceptance there as well.

No, not acceptance, you realize. Resignation. Disappointment. Powerlessness.

You tear your eyes away from Josephine and turn back to Brian: tilting a bottle of water against his lips, pulling him to his feet, fanning him with airplane tickets, leading him to a bench to wait for the taxi. The others help, oblivious to the shadow that has marauded through the room like an eclipse.

I won’t end up like her, you think to yourself with savage determination. I won’t let myself love him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Brian sinks into a plush orange lounge chair as you and Chrissie cart the luggage inside. You get a tour of their tiny apartment, shove your few remaining belongings beneath the couch where you now live, and drop into the plaid cushions, covering your face with your hands.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe I did this. I quit my job. I left Boston. I’m living on some random couple’s couch in London. Oh my god.”

“Hey,” Chrissie says warmly, lifting your chin. “We aren’t so random. We’re your friends. Maybe we’re even your destiny.”

“Jesus, you’re something out of a fairytale.”

“You’re the one who’s going to be cleaning my house, Cinderella.” Chrissie tosses a bag over her shoulder and heads for the door. “I have to swing by work and see if my students killed the substitute teacher today, will you two be alright here?”

“Of course,” you say. Brian gives her a groggy thumbs-up.

“Okay. Bye for now. Love you lots, Bri.”

“Love you,” Brian replies weakly. Chrissie departs into a bright London summer. Brian looks over at you sorrowfully, guiltily. “I miss New Orleans.”

“What do you miss about New Orleans, Bri?” You know Queen stopped there before they came to Boston, before they came into your life.

“Can I confess something to you?”

“Sure.”

He stares at the wall, vacant, acutely distressed. “I think I’m in love with a stripper called Peaches.”

“Oooookay.” You snatch up your purse and dash for the apartment door.

“Wait, no, really, I—”

“Don’t tell me about it. Call Roger or someone. Or, better yet, write a song about it and make some money so we can all have mansions with swimming pools one day. Do you need anything from that grocery store on the corner?”  

Brian sighs mournfully. “I suppose not.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Then you’re getting homemade chicken noodle soup. Everything will be better now, Brian. I promise. Everything will go back to the way it should be. Now that you’re home. Now that you’re here.”

Brian echoes quietly to himself as you open the door and sunlight floods in: “Now I’m here.”

[helenaswriting]

ships for @why-the-heck-am-i-here!

@why-the-heck-am-i-here: “Okay I really really want a ship thingy for marvel, Harry Potter and stranger things pls!! Imma send it here because I want to tell you as much about myself as possible 👉🏻👈🏻. (Feel free to post it still lol! Okay so my name is Bailey and I’m 5’9 (v tall) I currently have kinda short black wavy hair but I’m always dying it! Imma do pink next ;). I have green eyes and I tend to always do big thick eyeliner and smudged eyeshadow. I dress more on the oversized grunge side of the fashion spectrum, tho I would love to go more alternative. Okay now that that’s out of the waaayyy. I’ve always been described as the cool one kinda. I’m laid back but at the same time always up to do something stupid lol. I’m definitely always up for some fun but also a good ol nap. When I’m not doing anything like that I’m drawing or binging any show/movie I can get my hands on! Anime sign me up! Horror sign me up! Romantic sign me up!! You get the point. Back to drawing tho, that is such a big part of my life. I’ve been drawing since I can remember. Rather it’s just doodling or going out side with a canvas and some watercolor I’m always doing something new with art! I even have a small business. And if I happen to get a cool idea I’ll sketch it out on anything! My pets are also a big part of my life. I have a Pomeranian puppy named kuma and a GIANT Akita named Harlow. Their kinda stupid ngl but that means they take after mom 😣. Oh there’s music! I’m literally always listening to it or wishing I was listening to it, some times if I can’t I’ll start humming a song without realizing. Lastly id say I’m really touchy, I like to hold hands and get hugs 🥺. SNUGGLING IS THE BEST AHHH. Just some little facts; I’m a slytherin 🚨🚨 My favorite marvel character is rocket I’m a sucker for sandwiches My favorite color is black I always imagined myself sneaking my dog into Hogwarts as a pet (probably the Akita because 🙃) I’m a master a video games! Pokémon is my bff That’s all I can think of! THANK YOU SO MUCH! I HOPE IM NOT A BOTHER 👉🏻👈🏻”

hello!! you aren’t a bother at all and thank you for your request! i just did marvel and harry potter, if that’s alright? i’m very sorry, i just had so many considerations for stranger things and couldn’t make up my mind :( i hope you still enjoy reading these headcanons!! <3

· so, let’s start of with marvel! · as i was reading your description, i was considering many ngl, but i just have to go with bucky, because y’all would really be a power couple. · so the two of you meet very randomly, and a little cliché, at a blockbuster. (rip blockbuster btw). · you’re browsing shelves of movies, just taking a good look when you spot this tall guy, with shoulder-length brown hair, eyes on you, flustered when you spot him and you just kind of smile to yourself. · you spot the metal hand he’s hiding in his sleeve, (knowing who he was, though it wasn’t something you minded,) as you strike up a conversation with him, about the movie he’d quickly picked up when he saw you heading his way. · “the 40-year-old virgin, huh?” · “what- uhh, sorry?” · you nod to the dvd in his hand, realising that was the movie he’d randomly picked when panicking, though he wouldn’t admit he was, even later when you become a couple. · bucky and you end up leaving with each others numbers on your phones, and though he has a hard time admitting it, he’s very giggly and happy. · i mean he just got a really cute girls number, what was there not be ecstatic about? · anywho, so fastforward to after a little too many dates where he asks if you want to make it official. · it’s actually a really sweet moment. · you two are sitting at a fountain, no one around, your head on his shoulder as you just listen to the sound of the water behind you, a comfortable silence between you two. · he then kisses your lips, and you’re both feeling over the moon. · so this guy loves everything about you. · you both kind of have the same energy in a way, both laid back and though he might not have the same amount of coolness as you, you two just click and fit perfectly. · there’s never awkward silences between y’all, you’re practically soulmates, and that’s what steve and sam say too when they meet you and see you together. · if bucky has to go shopping for new clothes he always brings you along for advice, ‘cause he really likes your style and the vibe you have. · and you love styling him, since he goes along with almost everything. · for only you, of course. · bucky always hypes you up and admires your art, kissing your temples as you draw or paint, looking at your art. though he thinks your the art. · btw he absolutely LOVES your pets, and he spoils them by giving them too many treats sometimes, but he can’t help it. · yes, he is a big dog lover.  · is it just because they are your dogs and seem to have some of your personality? · maybe.  · he’s a soft boy with you, always there for you, holding you close whenever he can. · and this guy is also very touchy. · there’s nothing he loves more than laying on the couch with you, snuggling and cuddling as you watch a movie together or playing video games. · you almost always end up talking through movies, not being able to focus, but y’all don’t really mind.  · and you always kick buckys ass in video games, and when he get’s sad about losing you make up for it with kisses and loads of love <3. · he loves listening to music with you too and you showing him songs you like, since he’s not all that up to date with modern music and what’s popular nowadays. · bucky LOVES holding hands with you btw. · he only really uses lots of pda if he’s jealous of some guy checking you out, but he always holds your hand, proud to have you by his side as his lover. · he just appreciates you so much, and is so thankful that you support him and are there for him, especially when he’s going through dark episodes of trauma and PTSD. · all in all, you’re a real power couple, always strong together and you both rely a lot on each other. the trust and bond the two of you is so deep and stunning, and you’re a real dreamy, grunge couple.

· now to the world of harry potter! · okay, so honestly how can i not ship you with the obvious person who came to my mind first- draco malfoy.  · so the two of you are childhood friends and meet in your first year at hogwarts, befriending the boy. · we all know that draco is quite the dramatic person sometimes, and you two are quite different in that sense. · sure you have the same slytherin qualities, but since you’re waaay more laid back, sure up for a little trouble, but nothing with major drama, draco is the opposite. · he’s meddling himself into things that are unbelievable sometimes, getting into trouble for the most dramatic things.  · but you’re always there to help him. · you grow to be best friends, and many from the other houses judge you for that due to his reputation. · but the thing was that they didn’t actually know him the way you knew him, as a best friend, though you wanted to be more, and let’s be honest draco has had a crush on you since your third year at hogwarts. · he asks if you want to go to the yule ball with him, and that’s when you both crack at the same time to tell each other you want something more than to just be friends. · might i add draco is very enchanted by your dress, which i personally imagine to be this black or grey, puffy gown. · no matter what you would be wearing, he’d love it and think you look gorgeous. · “draco, i-” · “i have to tell you-” · “oh,” you both say at the same time. · “you go first!” · “no, you, you.” · “i insist you speak first, i-” · but he interrupts you by placing his lips on yours and god are there loads of butterflies in your stomach. · from that night, you’re a couple, but it’s not something you disclose to many people in the beginning, despite draco being so fond of pda. · fond of pda doesn’t even begin to describe it honestly. · once you’re a couple he can’t stop showering you with kisses, hugs, gifts, chocaltes- everything. · infront of anyone, anywhere. · btw he loves shopping with you and for you, and simply must give you really extra clothes worth god knows how many galleons, but he doesn’t mind at all. · whenever you gift him something it’s usual small, but very personal, and god this boy may seem tough and ready to square up, but he becomes so emotional when you give him a present- no matter what it is. · also he loves giving you art supplies, insisting on buying your watercolour paintings so he can have them on display both in his dorm but also at home, though his parents may not be to fond of it. · he’s your number one supporter and inspiration. · draco is very proud to have you, and WILL show you off whenever he can. · he thinks and knows you deserve it, for everything you put up with. · aka him. · draco is the sort of person who has a facade for most people, you being one of the only ones, if not the only one, to be able to break down that facade. · he knows that he can be difficult sometimes, since being emotional is something he’s bad at showing just because it’s something he hides a lot, but he knows he can trust you and be himself around you. · and he knows that you’re always there for him. · and draco is always there for you. · you two have a lot of fun and are always pulling pranks or getting into trouble. · on a date you two went to explore the dark forest, luckily not getting hurt, but even if it was scary, it was funny as well. · afterwards you retreated to your dorms, sitting in the common room, having movie marathons, which annoyed the other slytherins since you two hog the tv quite a bit. · he also loves sneaking up to your dorm and taking you out on midnight walks. · sometimes you take your dog along, and it’s all just very cute. · all in all, you are such a great pair, strong, fun and troublesome, yet sweet and tender.

[sanma-tetsurou]

lyricist! mark lee minhyung!

you can find the other dreamies at #worker au!!

===

•mark here is kind of self proclaimed 'amateur' lyricist and he's too humble everytime with 'i'm just writing what came to my mind and it wasn't that good' and he says that with awards lined up in a shelf at his room

•he's collaborated with a few world renowned artists and the songs were bighits (lol)

•mark's inspiration comes at weird times like maybe in the middle of the night he's sleeping and he wakes up suddenly and begins writing some lyrics in his third trusty notebook right beside his bed on the table

•he'd be wearing a pair of round glasses whenever he's working or meeting with the artists or their manager and they all be like look at this cutie but when the final product comes out they're like a bad-ass/tasteful cutie your skills are above our level take us as students - most probably gonna happen lol

•his hyung taeyong who works as a lyricist as well still treats him like a kid bc the boy doesn't know how to take care of himself

•like during a time where he had no inspiration and the idol wanted to see a draft of his lyrics he stayed up the whole day thinking and not eating or drinking anything so taeyong had to force hi mouth open and shove food into his system

•taeyong - "i don't need to find you passed out or rotting at your house so eat up mark"

•mark's just a boy who wants to do every one of his job properly so people don't get disappointed and make sure everyone loves the song

•so you work at a 24hr coffeeshop that owns the third floor and the roof just maybe a block away from where mark lives

•one thing you like about your job is that when you work late night shifts you get to go up to the roof to stare at the sky filled with countless of stars sparkling in their own way

•it just makes you take your mind off of things, making you forget things like you expensive af rent and the lady screaming about her chocolate being not sweet enough

•you happened to notice that a boy always comes into the cafe from somewhere around the evening and leaves at around 2-4am??

•he always go up to the roof and when you had to serve his coffee a few times you found him standing by the railing and stares at the sky

•each time he enters the place you notice his features one at a time bc you don't hv enough time to stare at him or needing him to see your obvious staring lol (you put together each of the parts and you can imagine him being cute than handsome and maybe you have a little something for him?)

•all you knew was his name, mark

•one day your friend had you stand in for her night to dawn shift which she promised you a week's lunch if not you would've been hone under the covers watching some show with popcorn

•it was abt one smth in the morning and there's nobody but you and your coworker renjun trying to stay awake and it made you giggle at his attempt not to fall onto the table while wiping it

•the bell at the door then tinkled, the soft sound echoing through the shop and you and renjun looked over to see mark again

•renjun excited walked over to him and had a bro hug moment so you made a small reminder to ask renjun how he knew the cute boy

•the boy then walked over to the counter and ordered his favourite drink while you tried to keep your eyes off of his face

•you quickly tapped on the register and he paid, the cashier let out a ring after then you had to wave renjun over to make the drink

•while you stood by the counter, mark was still standing in front of the counter kind of staring at nothing in particular

•you - "are you.. okay?" you waved your hand in front of his face and for a moment he was startled

•mark - "yeah. im fine just a little out" he let out an awkward laugh and headed upstairs again

•you took the moment to go to your coworker and interrogated him subtly asking him more about mark through the small talk you started as he continued making the drink

•for the first time you are willing to serve the ordered items to the customers and renjun's like are u sick lmao

•you picked up the tray and walked up the stairs thinking of striking up a convo with him

•mark was standing at the balcony his back facing you and staring at the stars where it was so tumblr aesthetic you couldn't help but snap a pic

•curse your camera snap sound you thought as he turned around and looked at you

•you - "sorry, you were just so tumblr i couldn't help it... i brought your order?"

•you didn't notice mark blushing slightly as you set down the tray and began walking away

•mark - "wait.." he called out to you "do you want to.. share that cake with me?"

•boii that made your heart jump and you hesitantly walk over and this time his blush was more evident

•soon the cake was finished in a matter of minutes that silently passed by bc both of you are chickens that didn't dare to say anything

•you - "why do you always come late at night?" you finally spoke up to him

•mark - "i like to look at the stars at night. it makes me feel calm"

•you - "really? me too"

•mark - "but there's something i like to see the most when i come here, you"

kinda left off hanging, sorry. i started writing this for about a month ago and it didn't turn out as good as i thought and i didn't really put in the lyricist stuff but i hope you enjoyed it!!

[jaouinedcan]

Home is Where the Journey Takes You [NedCan Week: Day 5 - Home/Journey]

I was initially on the fence about Nyotalia, but oh man did I ever fall for Nyo!Netherlands when I read “The Raven’s Call”   👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌there👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠOOOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit

...So yeah I wanted to spread the love a bit and also give props to paladinquen for the inspiration; I also really liked the name they chose for her so I went with it for this fic, too :)

Anneke de Boer had her whole life mapped out by the time she was ten.  She was going to inherit her father's shipping company, manage it from her mother's flower shop, marry the most capable man in sight to take charge of the ships, and have a few children to carry on the family business after she retired.  It was a simple and clear-cut plan.  She didn't even have to be in love with the man she would marry since it was far more important to find someone with smart business sense.  Since her father was one of the most successful men in town, Anneke didn't think she's have much trouble interesting someone, and, indeed, a few young men began making a habit of visiting her and her father once she grew older.  It seemed as though everything was going perfectly as planned, and she continued focusing on her education as she left negotiations to her father, trusting him completely as he weeded out the smooth talkers hoping to simply live off her family's wealth like a parasite instead of contributing to it and ensuring that her family name would carry on in prosperity.

It startled her how easily it all came undone once the Netherlands were invaded in 1940 as she teetered on the cusp of adulthood.  Her father's ships did not return, his warehouses were commandeered by the invading army, and their home was used as a residence by the men assigned to control the city.  Even her suitors disappeared, either having lost interest or their lives through resistance efforts.

Most of their possessions, wealth, and assets gone, they moved into her mother's flower shop.  It was an unfathomable difference between having a private room to herself and sharing a small storeroom with her parents and sister, which shrank further yet when one of her father's most trusted business associates came to them under the cover of night with little Luca in hand and a desperate plea, and then she had a little brother, too.  The townsfolk closed ranks and spoke of little Luca de Boer as if he had been theirs all along, and when the German soldiers asked them why he had no papers, Anneke feigned humiliation at having a son while still so young herself, saying he was raised as her little brother instead to avoid bringing shame upon her family and harming her marriage prospects.  Luca was lucky that his facial features were so miraculously similar to hers, because the soldiers moved on without asking any more questions.  They never saw his father again and no one else would come to collect him, but that was fine.  Little Luca became so precious to them it wasn't long before he was truly considered a de Boer in every way that counted.

Over the course of the next five years, conditions continued to deteriorate, but nothing was quite as terrible as the final winter of their occupation, when all they had left to eat were the tulip bulbs left in the storeroom and Anneke was forced to get creative.  As people succumbed all over the city to hunger and the cold, her family scraped along until liberation, though it came at the price of her father's peace of mind.  She knew that he blamed himself for being unable to provide for his family--he apologized often and spent long hours sitting up awake when he should have been sleeping, going so far as to eat smaller and smaller portions of the food she brought home, insisting that she share the rest of it with her siblings.  Despite her best efforts, he nearly willed himself into an early grave, bedridden for weeks before the Canadians marched through their streets.  While her mother kept a close eye on Emma and Luca, jumping up and down with pieces of chocolate melting all over their hands, she'd dragged her father's moldering mattress all the way to the shop's front door to watch the parade.  It was the first time she saw him cry, and it would not be the last, because instead of passing on he slowly recovered over the next few months and became much less concerned with keeping up appearances.

There was one last blow as the reforming Dutch government sought to punish Germans and their supporters, but Anneke endured it with her head held high.  Her family wasn't able to return home since it had been destroyed in an allied strike, but she didn't mind that so much as the townsfolk silently staring at the back of her suddenly bared neck as she went about her errands, and so limited her time outside as much as possible.  Some of the other girls refused to go outdoors at all, and she could hardly blame them.  She, at least, had been fortunate enough to not fall in love.  There had been some good men in the German army--she'd had the sense to avoid them, but some of the girls in town were so desperate for companionship in such trying times that they'd been drawn in by any hint of affection.

When they'd been gathered in the street to face their punishment, Anneke, repulsed by the whole spectacle, took the scissors from the official stepping up from behind her and cut her hair herself, refusing to give him the satisfaction of shaming her and the other girls for making the best of a bad situation.  Some of the other girls were shocked out of their tears as she threw down the scissors and walked away.  When Emma told their mother as she helped her even out the mess she'd made, Anneke caught her smiling in the mirror's reflection, and remembered what pride felt like.

Even so, Anneke disliked the attention and kept to herself, taking care of the flower shop as money began to pour back into the city.  It was easier to handle than going out into the street since the majority of her customers were Canadian soldiers, the one group of people with a bit of money to spare for non-essentials, though it was the young Dutch girls capturing their hearts who enjoyed the gifts they bought.  It had been the same story over the course of the occupation, though she only sold flowers to the Canadians.

One day, about a week after cutting her hair, a new customer came in.  She'd long since learned the names of the others and their beaus along with their favoured arrangements.  It was all part of being in business, knowing what the customers wanted and ensuring that she kept the most popular items in supply.  This soldier was unfamiliar, though, and she went through a mental checklist of the local girls who were still single, trying to match him with one.  He seemed either shy or nervous, pacing among her displays, so the girl may have approached him, first, but all the more assertive girls were already dating, to her knowledge.

Anneke tried to decide whether to leave him be or greet him.  It was in good business sense to welcome him to the shop, but if he was skittish--and she couldn't fault anyone who fought the Germans for suffering lingering anxieties--it was possible that surprising him would cause him to leave and she'd lose a possible regular customer.  All of a sudden, though, he steeled himself and approached the counter.  "Hallo," she said, having the decision made for her.

"Hello," he replied, standing straight like he was facing his commanding officer.  "Do you speak English, miss?  Au Français?"  He had a quiet way about him, but she had no trouble hearing his voice in the otherwise empty shop.

"My English is better."  There hadn't been many French nationals in the city willing to let her practice, especially once the occupation began and speaking anything but German in public became increasingly dangerous.  "What are you looking for today, sir?"

He seemed relieved; most of the soldiers she'd encountered spoke English, so maybe his French was weak, too.  "I'm afraid I don't have the faintest idea," he admitted.  "It's for a girl, of course--I don't exactly have family nearby--but I don't know what she would like.  Do you have any suggestions, miss?"

"What is her name?" she asked.  "I may know her preferences."

"We haven't yet been introduced," he said, and offered his hand.  "I'm Matthew Williams."

She was a bit taken off guard by the abrupt change of subject, but shook his hand anyway.  "Anneke de Boer."

"On nuh kuh," he repeated carefully, getting a feel for the pronunciation.  "Anneke, if you don't mind me asking, what is your favourite flower?"

She heard that question often; men often assumed women liked certain kinds as a collective.  Well, he was in luck at the moment, because Anneke had plenty of her favourite in stock at the moment.  "For soft feelings of affection, tulips are best.  As with roses, the colour of choice for romance would be red.  If your intention is to pursue a Dutch girl's heart, even if her English is not good, the meaning of a red tulip is clear."

Matthew smiled, pulling out a handful of coins from one of his pockets.  "That sounds perfect; I'd like to buy one, please."

She counted out his change first, then lead him over to the tulips, pulling an attractively shaped one out of the bunch for him.  When she held it out for him to take, though, Matthew enclosed her outstretched hand between both of his, instead.

"Anneke," he said, "I hope to see you tomorrow at the town centre."  Matthew then released her hand and bowed his head slightly toward her before turning and walking back out into the street, leaving the tulip in her hand.  She stared out after him until he stepped out of sight.

She isn't sure how long she stood there, but it couldn't have been long because Emma and Luca tumbled out from behind the counter, obviously having snuck in through the back door.  "Anneke you have to go," Emma insisted, bringing her from English back to Dutch.  "He's the one who always has sweets!"

Indeed, both Emma and Luca held up hands marked with melted chocolate, but Luca looked a bit unsure.  "He wouldn't let me and my friends play in the field by the hospital yesterday, though..."

Emma tugged on his ear.  "That was because they haven't finished clearing out the land mines, Luca!  We really have to work on your English before you get blown up!"

"I'm not going to get blown up!" Luca protested with a pout, holding one hand over his ear and licking the other one clean of chocolate.

"Listen to what the soldiers tell you, Luca," Anneke said, backing up her sister, "and you will not get blown up.  The fields are too dangerous to play in, so you will have to stay in the city for now."

"Okay..." he agreed, though he still looked put out.  "I hope they get all the mines soon.  I want to go out exploring like the boys in books do.  It's not fair."

"It isn't fair," Anneke agreed, helping to placate him by acknowledging the injustice, "but it is better than before and it will continue to get better from here on out.  If business keeps up at this pace, I will be able to buy you a football in time for your birthday."

Luca's eyes opened wide  as saucers.  "Really, Anneke, really?!"  At her nod, he launched himself around her legs, burying his face in her skirt.  "Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!"

Anneke ruffled her little brother's hair with her free hand, and looked over to her sister, who thoughtfully licked her fingers.  Luca was still a boy, but Emma was well on her way to leaving childhood behind her.  Anneke suspected that she even had a good idea how she'd kept them all fed over the last year, though she'd hoped to spare her from the knowledge.  "Anneke," she said, eyes locking on the tulip, "I was just kidding about the sweets.  You know that, right?"

She wanted to find out who told her and tear a strip from their hide.  "I know, Emma."

"Still," she said, lips curling into an encouraging smile, "he's really nice, always asking us how we're doing, and I don't think he even knows we're family so it isn't just to get into your good graces.  You should go see him tomorrow.  I can look after the shop.  Luca can stay here, too, and I can help him with his English in between customers and you can have a day off and have some fun for once."

Anneke considered it.  With their father at the Allied hospital and their mother working to help care for him and the rest of the recovering townsfolk and soldiers, Emma and Luca were mostly left to run free, but maybe it was time to allow them a little more responsibility.  "If you really mean that," she decided, "then I will go."

She brought the tulip to the back room and left it on the table in a cup with sugar water so it would last longer.  When their mother returned from the hospital with their supper, she saw it, took a long breath, slowly exhaled, and once she was done, looked more at ease than she had since the occupation began.  Anneke brought up the football idea before she could ask.

The upper ranks of the Allied military were supposed to discourage romantic relations between their soldiers and the civilians they protected, but such regulations were doomed from the start.  Young people were drawn to excitement no matter what their elders had to say about it, and while Anneke considered herself an exception to the rule, she still liked to see people around her having fun.  In the weeks following liberation, the most exciting thing was to meet the Canadian soldiers, and it was inevitable that romance would result.  She profited from it directly, and swiftly heard about the unsanctioned social gatherings in the town centre.  Someone would bring a radio and everyone in attendance would drink and dance.  The generals could not dictate where the troops spent their off duty hours and forbidding contact with the locals would lower morale, so many of them were in attendance and flirted with the girls who came to see them in open defiance of military policy.  It had only been a few weeks and already there were at least a dozen couples dancing, clearly besotted with one another.  She wished them well.

Matthew found her quickly.  There were not many Dutch girls with short hair willing to walk the streets these days, so she stuck out like a sore thumb.  "Anneke," he said, "I'm glad you're here.  Would you like to dance?"

It would be easier to talk to him in motion rather than awkwardly standing off to the side, leaving them vulnerable to eavesdroppers.  "Yes," she said, raising her arms and inviting him to step toward her, allowing him to take one hand in his, settling the other on her waist while she rested hers on his shoulder.  Up close, she realized they were either the same height or very close to it and his eyes were a very peculiar pale blue that seemed to shine violet in the light.

"Thank you for coming, Anneke," he said, once they'd found their rhythm.  "I've been wanting to meet you for a while now."

That was the thing she was the most curious about.  How did he know her?  She avoided the streets as much as possible and yesterday had been his first time visiting the flower shop, so when had he developed an interest in her?  Well, all she had to do was ask.  "I'm a little confused how I managed to make such a strong impression, given I've been keeping to myself lately."

"Yes, I've noticed," he agreed, smiling faintly.  "I'd have thought I would have run into you before now, but I ended up having to ask around to find you again.  I'm not surprised you didn't notice me back then in the crowd.  I was one of several soldiers assigned to the area to prevent any violence from breaking out."  So that was it.  She really should have guessed, but that still didn't explain his interest in her.  "I have a pretty good idea of what you said back then, but I wanted to know for sure.  Would you be willing to translate it into English for me?"  He made a good effort of repeating the Dutch phrase that must have echoed in his mind for the past week.

Matthew could have asked almost anyone in town.  He could have asked her yesterday, too, if it mattered that much to him, but maybe he had noticed her siblings spying on them.  Or maybe going in such a roundabout way was a Canadian custom.  Whatever the case, she had no reason to not answer.  He'd either like it or hate it and if it disturbed him the worst result would only be her mother's disappointment.  "In English, what I said was 'I will not be shamed for the things I have done to protect my family'."

His eyes closed for a moment as his lips curved further upward, likely focusing on matching the words to his memory.  "Yeah," he said, softly, "that was the feeling I got."  An odd pressure began to form in her chest as he opened his eyes again.  "Anneke, I've yet to meet a woman quite so resilient as you.  You're amazing; I hope you know that."

Anneke wasn't quite sure how to respond, so she didn't, and continued to dance with him.  When she didn't excuse herself as the first song ended and the next one began, Matthew took it as a sign to restart the conversation and they began to introduce more of themselves to each other.  As the afternoon wore on and Matthew's remaining off duty hours ran low, they agreed to meet each other again (and again and again...)

It was months later, after her father returned from the hospital, that the other shoe dropped.  Her mother had told him all about Matthew and he'd pried what information he could from Anneke when she closed the shop on Sundays to take Emma and Luca to see him.  He insisted that she invite him over for dinner at the first opportunity and she indulged him.  Matthew had already met her mother and siblings several times and got along with them well, especially as he insisted upon washing the dishes himself after meals, but he was nervous about meeting her father.  She gently teased him for worrying about nothing, but that was before she learned what they quietly discussed together when her father pulled him outside to talk over a few cigarettes.

"He's going to propose to you, soon," her father explained after Matthew left, knowing how much she hated surprises.  "I think you should accept."

"Father--" she started to protest, but he was having none of it, reaching out to grasp her hand and squeeze it tight.

"Anneke, the sacrifices you have made for this family are far over and beyond what any father would expect from their child.  You see me, here, a mere fraction of the man I used to be, unable to provide for you a future that does not involve you toiling away without a passing thought toward your own happiness.  I did not even have to meet Matthew to see that you care for him more than you would admit, but I did wish to see him and verify that he felt the same.  I'm sure you clearly remember the day that Luca was brought to us, but I never imagined I would understand the depths of his father's desperation and anguish.  He could not provide a life for his child, and so brought him here to us.  I cannot give you the future you deserve, and so I ask you now to go with Matthew and live your life as you wish.  That is all I can do for you, my darling child."

She forced the words out of her throat, tight with emotion.  "Father, I cannot leave you and Mother to raise Emma and Luca alone.  You still need me here.  You can't have me leave you this way.  How am I to help from halfway across the world?"

"Emma is nearly as old as you were at the start of the occupation," her father reasoned with her.  "It is her turn, now, to step into the responsibility you will be leaving behind.  She will spend a few years running the flower shop with your mother and I supporting her in every way we can, and once she reaches your age, she, too, will leave us to pursue her own happiness, and so it will go on with Luca after her.  It is my fondest desire as a father to see my children more successful than I was during the height of my career.   You know this, Anneke."

"Yes," she was forced to admit, eyes beginning to burn.  He'd told her many times over the course of her life.

"You will not be leaving us so soon," he assured her.  "The mission is far from over.  I expect the soldiers to stay for many months to come, but Matthews tour will expire soon enough and when it does, his government will be all but forced to take his wife back with him.  Until then, we will enjoy the time we have left together."

Her father, hunched over his cane, stood shorter than her.  It was the first time an embrace between them had her chin resting atop his head rather than vice versa.

The proposal had been simple, the ceremony had been small, and the honeymoon limited to a one night stay at the nicest hotel in the city, but it suited them both just fine.  Life continued on as before, but Matthew was unable to stay in her company for longer and longer stretches of time until he was finally relieved of his duties and sent back to Canada.  Her own voyage was postponed until much later, all sorts of bureaucratic nonsense to be done as governments worked together to organise the travel details of tens of thousands of war brides.  During their separation, they wrote letters often, the latest of which detailed Matthew's efforts to build a house for them on his parents' property and how he planned to prepare several flower beds out front and back just for her.  She hadn't even had to ask.

The ship was filled to the brim of women and children borne to them over the course of the war.  Most of them boarded in Great Britain because that was where most Canadian servicemen had spent at least a portion of their time in Europe.  She got along with the rest of the women well enough, but after a time, she'd gotten weary of the noise in the larger gathering areas and made her way to a more secluded area on the upper deck, where she would spend the majority of her time aboard.  Something about the open air and sea breeze just felt right.  If people were reborn into new lives after passing on, then she must have been a sailor in a past life.

She found her brother-in-law, Arthur Kirkland, leaning against the railing shortly after the stop in Great Britain.  She wasn't surprised to see him in a surly mood--British men were proud, just like most men everywhere, and he didn't take kindly to being teased as a 'male war bride'.

Anneke leaned on the railing beside him, recognising him on sight from the description Matthew had provided.  Arthur had met and married her husband's sister back in Canada before Matthew had been deployed, as it had been one of the safest places on Earth for Commonwealth airmen to be trained.  She'd been warned about his height but she was still surprised that the British Airforce allowed him to become a pilot.

Arthur glanced over at her and said, "Well, you may as well bloody get it over with," as he retrieved a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, lighting up without another word.

"I'm Anneke," she said instead of teasing him as he expected.  "I'm making the assumption that you're Arthur Kirkland?"

He seemed surprised, nearly dropping his cigarette, obviously having refrained from introducing himself to anyone on board as of yet.  "And how would you know that?" he asked, suspicious, looking as though he half expected an assassination attempt.

"Because I am Matthew's wife?" she asked in confusion.  He was supposed to have known that they would be on the ship together, but clearly, he did not.

"Damn it, Amelia..." Arthur grit out, the pieces falling into place.  "The worst part is that I have no idea if she forgot to mention it or did this on purpose just to vex me."  He took a long drag of his cigarette, then took it out of his mouth and extended his free hand to shake hers.  "Arthur Kirkland at your service.  It'll be good to have some sane company on board; can't see Matthew going for anyone without a lick of sense.  Should have married him myself."

She was surprised enough by the joke to stifle a laugh, and Arthur allowed himself a satisfied smirk as she replied.  "I heard from Matthew that Amelia could be a handful at times.  Best of luck to you," she wished him.

"I'll need all of that I can get," he griped, then sighed, casting his gaze over the side of the ship.  "God, I miss that woman.  Having to go back to England for years without her was almost unbearable, but at least I could be sure she was safe.  My family lost everything in the blitz and were scattered to the four winds; I'm sure you have the general idea, being Dutch.  You know, I had the honour of flying some of the Operation Manna missions.  We had to fly so low I could make out individual people dancing in the street."

So he had placed her accent after all.  "I imagine it was quite different, flying a bomber to save lives rather than take them."

He smiled again.  "I have to say, it was one of just a handful of reasons why I was glad to have chosen the Royal Air Force over the navy."

Ships were as British as tulips were Dutch.  "Why didn't you join the navy, Arthur?"  He seemed to be enjoying himself on the sea.

Arthur used an arm to indicate his entire body.  "They would have taken one look at me before folding me into a suitcase and loading me onto a submarine with the rest of the sardines.  There was no way I was going to risk getting on one of those deathtraps when what I really wanted was, well, this.  The fresh open air, the salty spray, the freedom of an endless expanse of ocean...  Hah, at least piloting a bomber meant a bit of time here and there on aircraft carriers."

She was glad that he mentioned his size first so she could likely escape his ire if anything unwise slipped out of her mouth.  Anneke wasn't used to being around men so much shorter than herself.  "I see," she replied.  She would have felt claustrophobic, too, crammed into small spaces with strangers, though it hadn't been so bad sharing small spaces with family.  "Had I the choice, I may have preferred to spend my life aboard a ship like this one," she said, wistful.

"Why not?" Arthur wondered.  "If the lad liked you enough to ship you across the Atlantic, I doubt he'd be opposed to giving the sea life a shot."

It was Anneke's turn to smile.  "Unfortunately for my sea legs, I fell in love with flowers first."  There was no person on Earth able to get everything they wanted, but she could enjoy this part of the journey while it lasted.  That really was all that anyone could do.

Anneke and Arthur got along so well they were nearly siblings as heart by the time they disembarked, having enjoyed the voyage and explored the ship in mutual interest.  Unfortunately, the train was another story, the jarring motion of the rails putting them both on edge to the point that they could barely stand the sight of each other after a few hours.  Even worse, there were still several hours left to go.  The sheer size of Canada was almost unfathomable to both of them; the whole of Europe could easily be set inside with room to spare.

They were very nearly the last few off the train.  The moment they stepped out onto the platform they instantly began to feel better, and Anneke's eyes locked onto the western horizon in wonder, having never seen anything quite as spectacular as the mountain range in the distance.  "Would you look at that..." she mumbled, amazed.

Arthur was a bit more used to the sight.  "I'll bet you haven't seen much more than gently rolling hills before, back in the lowlands."

"No bet," she replied, since he would win hand's down, and dragged her eyes away.  "Did we arrive on schedule?  I half expected Amelia to tackle you straight out the door from all you've said about her."

He looked down at his pocket watch to check, and therefore completely missed seeing his wife barrel toward him.  "Artie!!!" she called out, and he looked up just in time to yell in outrage as she grabbed him around the middle and raised him over her head.  Even Amelia had a few inches on the poor man and Anneke held back a chuckle for the sake of his pride already under fire as she began scanning the crowd for her husband, who couldn't be far behind.

"Anneke," he said, approaching from the side, and she turned to see him.  He looked just as handsome out of uniform, and just as happy as he had been on their wedding day.  After a long moment of ignoring the loud struggle beside them, they stepped forward to meet in the middle of their stride, reaching forward to lay a hand upon each other's face, drawing themselves in for a long awaited kiss that slowly transformed into a full embrace as they sought to pull each other even closer, their heads tucking into the curves of the other's neck, taking in the familiar scents they'd missed so much.  "How was the trip?"

"Exhausting," she complained without a hint of exasperation.  "Please tell me the farm is a stone's throw away at the most."

"I'm so sorry," Matthew replied, contrite.  "There's still a few hours of driving to get there."  Anneke moaned in horror directly against his shoulder, and he tried to comfort her.  "I'll drive as smoothly as possible so you and Arthur can sleep, I promise."

"I'm in the back seat with Artie!" Amelia declared.

"You'll be up front with me so Arthur can rest," Matthew overruled.

Amelia howled in indignity.  "Mattie, I haven't seen Artie in years!  You can't do this to me!"

Matthew pulled back from Anneke and turned them both to face his sister and Arthur, who had freed himself from his wife's manhandling but looked nearly ready to give up the ghost.  "Anneke, this is my twin sister, Amelia.  Amelia, this is Anneke, my wife."

"Don't just ignore me, Mattie!" Amelia complained, but shook Anneke's hand anyway.  "Hey there, Annie, I'm sure we'll get along great as long as you aren't half the spoilsport my brother is."

"Oh, for God's sake, Amelia," Arthur said, finally at his limit.  "Calm down a tad, would you?  Let me rest a bit now and I'll give you my full attention once we arrive."

"You have a deal, mister!" Amelia accepted, then leaned in close to Anneke.  "I'm not gonna let him leave my room for a week."

"Amelia!" Matthew and Arthur protested in sync.  Her sister-in-law wasn't very good at whispering.

Matthew and Amelia's parents were good, hardworking people; farmers born from farmers.  They grew crops rather than flowers, but they were interested in her expertise.  In time, they might be willing to allow her a portion of the land to grow a few varieties to sell.  It would be wonderful if she could open up a flower shop one day.  She'd been told the winters could be brutal, though, so she'd have to look into building a sturdy greenhouse.  Before that, though, there was something else far more important to put their savings towards.

She was taken for a tour of their home-in-progress.  Until it was finished, they would be using Matthew's old room in his parents' house, but that was fine--it wasn't much smaller than the storeroom back in the Netherlands and didn't have to double as a kitchen.  The new house, on the other hand, would be much bigger--possibly even bigger than the house she'd grown up in.  They would have enough room for both them and Amelia and Arthur to stay until they settled upon their own plan.  There were a few possibilities between moving south to America or living full time at an air base, but the only thing they knew for sure as of yet was that they had no interest in taking over the farm, which was perfect, because she and Matthew would be happy to have it.

"Once Amelia and Arthur move on, your parents can move into the secondary master bedroom--theirs and ours will be on opposite ends of the house for as much privacy as possible.  The kids' bedrooms will all be upstairs; Emma and Luca will have great big windows to see all the way out into the field and plenty of space they can use to store whatever catches their fancy in town.  There'll be a few extra rooms we can use for storage at first; we can clear them out once we decide on when to start trying for kids of our own, but until they're big enough for their own space, we'll have the nursery in the room right next to ours.  I've plotted out the gardens, too, you see there?  It'll be great to see tulips popping up everywhere in spring like they did in the Netherlands."

If there was no such thing as perfection, this was pretty damn close.  Anneke looked over the properly with a smile, squeezing Matthew's hand tight as she turned to regard the vast open field untouched by conventional warfare.  "Luca is going to love it here."

[Notes: I hope I did nyo!Netherlands justice here; I waffled on whether or not to write her smoking, but in the end, I decided the timing didn’t work; tobacco would have been rationed around the time she would be considered old enough to smoke and she would have spent what little money she had on necessities instead.  Once she gets her family all together again, she might get into the habit, but not before.

I felt a little odd about mostly putting the romance on the backburner, but I felt it was more important to visit all aspects of Anneke’s life, journey, and development.  I might write a few drabbles in the future set in this AU to help flesh out their love story a bit more.]

[hcnsohee]

2k17 wishlist:

Okay so, under the cut you’ll find a few things that I’ve been wanting to do for a while now. Come at me one and all! Just IM me and we’ll plot things <3

Wanted pairings (bold means I want to play that fc):

Peyton List x Wentworth Miller

Phoebe Tonkin x Charlie Cox (bonus if he’s visually impaired)

Phoebe Tonkin x Charlie Hunnam

Phoebe Tonkin x CMD

Phoebe Tonkin x Matt Daddario

Phoebe Tonkin x Rami Malek

Riz Ahmed x Diego Luna

Karla Souza x Charlie Webber

Elodie Yung x Charlie Cox

Elodie Yung x Jon Bernthal

Dick Grayson x Kara Danvers

Dick Grayson x Damian Wayne

Dick Grayson x Jason Todd

Damian Wayne x Tim Drake

Dinah Lance x Oliver Queen

Wanted FCs:

Diane Guerrero

Christian Serratos

Emeraude Toubia

Kylie Bunbury

Ashley Graham

Alfie Enoch

John Boyega

Jai Courtney

Wanted Opposites: (there are only males because I love all the females you throw my way tbh, but i’m picky when it comes to men)

Alfie Enoch

Tom Payne

Steven Yeun

Norman Reedus

Oscar Isaac

Hugo Silva

Aaron Tveit

Samuel Larsen

Sam Heughan

Rami Malek

Ezra Miller

Jai Courtney

Wanted plots (if you don’t like any of these, here’s my tag):

Any supernatural plot, come at me.

Modern Greek Gods.

Experienced detective x rookie detective/police officer

All the vigilante x civilian plots

High school sweethearts. Muse A leaves town and when they come back ten years later, they’re a doctor and Muse B is an outlaw (picture Jax x Tara from SoA. I’d love to play muse a here).

give me a plot where muse a is dying to have a baby/get pregnant to the point where she is stressing out because she thinks her biological clock is really ticking even though she’s in her 20s. so her friend has been setting her up on blind dates to try and help her find a guy but on the first date the first thing she asks is if they want kids and it scares them away. so muse a’s friend sets her up on a blind date with their brother which is super awkward to think about. and when muse a asks about kids muse b seems neutral about it and doesn’t run away and muse a is taken aback by it. and he sorta just… agrees to help her have a baby. so they wind up sleeping together a bunch of times in hopes of getting pregnant and muse b told muse a they are only in it for the kid they don’t want to complicate things. but then muse a starts getting a baby bump and they start buying little baby shoes together and they go to ultrasound appointments and the more muse b falls in love with his baby he falls in love with its mommy too and ): (I’d love to play muse a here)

all i want right now is a cliché undercover marriage 1x1 where there’s two spies who hate each other and everyone knows it but now they’re the only two avalible for this long term undercover mission as a married couple in an apartment/suburb and they have to be believable through dinner parties and etc. just pleASE give this to me

a “i’m a single dad but i also strip at night to pay the bills & ur my kid’s kindergarden teacher & oh shit i just showed up to strip at ur friend’s bachelorette party please don’t think i’m a bad dad” plot

Give me a vampire couple that’s been on and off again for like hundreds of years. Like they fight like crazy and break up and not see each other again for a long time but then come back together like nothing has changed and are all over each other in love. They won’t admit it but they’ll love each other forever no matter what, even if they’re not always together.

how about instead of a broke roommates make a sex tape for cash plot we make an alternative where they’re broke and in desperate need of money on more than just one occasion so they decide to fuck on a live sex website where viewers can request things they wanna see the muses do and maybe muse a is a little more shy and after one request they’re like wait they want us to do WHAT and muse b is like c’mon babe it’ll feel awesome i’ll show you just relax and it kind of becomes a hit and they start doing it a few times a week and then add in some angst if one of them starts seeing someone but continues sleeping with the other muse and it gets super messy and super sexy and they can explore all of these new kinks / positions / everything together (you must be 18+ for this plot)

I’ve been dying for a “we went to high school together and i’ve been totally fixated since the moment i laid eyes on you back in freshman year but you were the most popular girl in school - prom queen, class president, valedictorian and here i was, merely an average student, with a few average friends and spent all my free time doodling comics that would never amount to anything in my sketchbook. i swore i’d get the chance to know you before high school ended but now it’s come and gone and you’re off at some prestigious college maybe harvard, or yale while i’m stuck in our average state university trying to better my grades to get into art school but you haven’t left my mind and you’re the biggest inspiration in my comics and yeah, maybe the awesome, beautiful, crime fighting leading woman in my comics does resemble you a bit and now it’s summer and you’re sipping your tea and reading some book that i’m sure is far too intellectual for me to ever comprehend in this cafe and i bolt out at the sight of you but shit - i dropped one of my sketches and it’s so obviously you and there’s no time to grab it before you see it.” pLOTTTTTTTTT

gimme a plot where a very single wedding planner who truly believes in the magic of love meets a lawyer who’s specialized in divorces who thinks marriage and love are non-existent.

lowkey want a plot where muse a is this big and tough guy with a lot of tattoos and some piercings and people are scared of him because of his looks ( thinking that he’s probably rude and should stay away ) when all he really wants is someone to help out him and his 3 year old daughter ( since he’s a single parent and the daughter’s birth mother left when his daughter was only a few months old ) because they’ve been living in his car pretty much since the day she was born and have been going across the country but end up stopping in muse b’s town and end up meeting them at her local flower shop. now, muse b has always been known to be a very sweet and empathetic person so she takes it upon herself to give him her number and say that she’s always willing to help. muse a doesn’t really think much of it or her until his car breaks down and he calls her for help. one thing leads to another and all of a suddenmuse b is offering to have muse a and his daughter stay at her apartment with her until they get back on their feet. after a while, things between muse a and muse b start to go from strictly platonic to almost romantic and would you look at that ??they start dating.

dude forget teacher/student relationships what about a teacher/teacher relationship where muse a is a math teacher and muse b is the cute new art teacher and they sort of strike up a conversation the day before the first day of school like “haha, good like controlling these hormonal teenagers” and they become like awkward friends who always run in to each other in the teacher’s lounge or always go to each other’s rooms for extra copy paper even though they’re fucking across the school from each other and all the students ship it and lmao help

screw bad boys/good girls, gimme a plot about a typical all-american dude, who plays football and has a pretty girlfriend and is going to a good college because he’s such a good quarterback and drives around a Rover because it’s safe and doesn’t really like doing drugs and rarely ever drinks and then bam! here comes the bad girl, who wears black clothes and red lipstick and stroll around school like she owns it and has broken half of the school’s population’s hearts at least twice and for some reason he’s intrigued by her and she takes some kind of interest towards him and then when he realizes he’s in love with her and he switched his safe Range Rover for an old Mustang and is smoking in the parking lot with a bad girl on his lap and punching his judgey friends and being suspended and he’s loving every part of it, because he’s free and he has her. (except no high school please. we’ll shift this to college and whatnot. I’d love to play the bad girl here because I like corrupting people mwahaha)