#i always start cooking at 11 pm it's so unfortunate

[gwinforth]

how does an adult (me) not have any cumin in the house

[daisynik7]

Give You Blue

Epilogue

You are my universe, my everything, my sunset. You still give me butterflies, my lullaby. You are everything I wanted.

Pairing: Eren x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

cw: switching POVs (reader is second-person, Eren is third), fluff, established relationship, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), cunnilingus, face-riding, spit play, pet names (sweetie, honey, sweetheart, princess, good girl, baby) 

Previous Chapter

Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3

Author’s Note: Just an excuse to write a little bonus chapter about these two! Fluffy, adorable, and happily in love! Also a little smut added to the mix. Thank you everyone for reading this story all the way through the end! Love and appreciate every single one of you. What a journey this has been. Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are appreciated, as always.

It’s 11:45 PM, New Year’s Eve, fifteen minutes before the start of the new year. You leave your family gathered downstairs to head up to your room, shutting the door quietly, tapping your boyfriend’s contact on your phone screen. 

Eren answers after two rings. “Hey, cutie. Hold on.” There’s shuffling, like you’ve been temporarily put in his pocket. In the background, you hear him announce, “Mom, I’m pretty tired. Going to bed now.”

“But you’ll miss midnight!” she responds. 

You hear his dad chime in. “Let him, honey. He can make his own decisions.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his tone that even you can detect on the other end of the line.

Your boyfriend lets out a nervous chuckle, muttering a quick, “Happy New Year.” There’s more rustling, then sounds of steps going up stairs, ending with a gentle thud of a door closing. “Sweetie? You still there?” he asks, finally alone. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” You smile into the phone, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he greets back. “It’s so nice hearing your voice.”

“I feel the same way,” you reply, falling back into the mattress, gazing up at the ceiling. “How was tonight?”

“Oh, you know, the usual: My mom cooked too much food for three people and my dad has been sneaking little jabs at me. Nothing new.”

Eren officially changed his major before the end of the semester from pre-med to education, a huge weight lifted off his shoulders while a tinier one replaces it, aka his father’s overall disapproval. Dr. Jaeger stood by his word, threatening that he would no longer support his son financially once he made the switch, to which Eren has been preparing for. He has two new on-campus jobs lined up for him at the start of the new semester, along with the weekly music session at the elementary school Erwin Smith’s dad works at. The first week of winter break, he was ready to apply for a few loans to help him throughout the rest of his term. Then, to his shock, his father approached him, informing him that he will actually continue to pay for his education, on the condition that he graduates with outstanding grades and a job guaranteed. Eren’s sure it was his mother who was behind the change in heart, to which he’ll forever be grateful for. Unfortunately, this hasn’t stopped his father from making snide remarks here and there. 

You sympathize with him, saying, “I’m sorry.”

His charming grin is audible through the phone. “Don’t be. I can handle it.”

“Where’s Mikasa? And your brother?” 

“Mikasa left this morning to spend the rest of break with Jean. And Zeke had to head back to prepare for some conference, so he’s actually in your neck of the woods right now,” he answers, referring to your hometown and current location: Marley. He adds, “To be honest, I wish I was there too.”

You smile, kicking your feet, belly fluttering with butterflies. “We’ll see each other in a week. Do you really miss me that much?” you tease.

“More than anything.” 

Swallowing hard, sentimental words dancing on the tip of your tongue (I miss you too, I think about you every day), you remain silent, too shy to get them out. Instead, he continues speaking, changing the subject to talk about what his mom prepared and the new year traditions behind them. She decided to do a spread of German foods this time around: pork sausages for good luck, sauerkraut for more money, and lentil soup for even better luck. He tells you about his childhood, popping open apple cider to tip into everyone’s glasses, watching the fireworks light up the sky from a distance, igniting sparklers outside with Armin, Mikasa, and the other neighborhood kids on the street. You listen to him intently, imagining a young Eren with that same signature bright smile he dons as an adult; warm, genuine, full of light. It’s no wonder you fell for him, especially in a time of your life where you were shrouded in darkness from the fallout of your heartbreak, unsure when you’d ever see sunshine again. 

I love you. Every time you think it, you double back, convincing yourself that it’s too soon, too much in such a short amount of time. After all, it’s only been a little over a month since the two of you officially became a couple. Wouldn’t it be crazy to express such a weighted confession? 

When there’s a small pause in the conversation, finished with his stories, you start, “Eren,” ready to admit it. 

“Oh, it’s already 11:59!” he interjects, excited. “How many seconds do we have left?”

You turn on the TV, switching to a local channel that’s displaying a countdown. “Ah, ten seconds!” You watch the clock, listening to Eren announce the numbers in your ear. At three, you join in. “3…2…1…Happy New Year!”

Downstairs, you hear your family cheering, clinking flutes of champagne or cider with each other. The sound of fireworks bursting can be heard faintly through your window. On the opposite end of the line, Eren says, “Happy New Year, beautiful. Wish I could kiss you right now.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to join your family downstairs?” he asks.

“Positive. I want to start the new year with you.”

He laughs softly. “Me too. And you know what? For the first time in a long time, I’m actually excited about the new year. I used to dread going back, always so anxious about my new classes. All the tests and projects I had to work on during the semester. Even interacting with my classmates because it was always so competitive. Now, my new curriculum sounds interesting, and I feel good about my cohort. I just know this year is going to be a great one.” He pauses, choosing his next statement carefully. “I’m also looking forward to us. We’ve got all the time in the world now. I can’t wait to create so many more memories with you.”

Your heart beats faster, taken back by his sincerity. You decide not to confess to him tonight, not because you’re unsure, but because you mean it more. Those three words don’t seem enough to express that to him. Not yet at least. There’s no pressure to rush into anything; as he said, you’ve got all the time in the world. 

~~~

Spring semester of sophomore year starts off smoothly, especially for Eren. This is the only time during his collegiate career that he’s felt at ease. While he’s equally as diligent as he was before, he enjoys the material he’s learning, rather than stressing each passing day like he once was. Having his supportive girlfriend by his side is also a huge help, maybe the biggest of them all. He’s never been happier. 

Technically, it’s forbidden for RAs to date their residents. However, that hasn’t stopped them, often sneaking into his room to do what couples usually do. Quite frankly, neither are worried about hiding it, considering the rest of the dormitory residents are well aware of the relationship and unfazed by it. Still, whenever one of Eren’s managers visits, he’s extra diligent in keeping that information private. 

As for her situation with her ex, she has completely moved on, and seemingly so has he. Occasionally, she’ll spot Reiner walking around campus with his fraternity brothers or classmates. She and him will exchange a cordial head nod, polite wave, sometimes a reminiscent smile, but nothing more. Acknowledging each other’s presence, understanding there’s no more left to their story. A fleeting moment of reminiscence about their past life together, gone as soon as it appears. During these times, Reiner will flash a serious glance at Eren. It’s not threatening or malicious, more like a cautionary warning. He can’t blame the guy; after all, Reiner was her first love, and vice versa. Despite their relationship coming to an end, deep down, they must care for each other to some degree. Even as the new boyfriend, he can understand that, so he remains unbothered by it.

Despite his father agreeing to continue the payment of his tuition, Eren decided to work at least one part-time job this semester to supplement date nights or gifts for his girlfriend. His job is being the front desk of the school library, helping students locate resources or manage the study rooms. For the most part, his schedule is manageable. However, when the week of midterms arrives, it gets a little more complicated. The facility remains open twenty-four hours on weeks like this so students have a place to study at all times. Driven by the increased pay during the night shifts, Eren offers to work them without thinking how it’ll affect his daily routine. It’s only after the first night that he realizes he won’t be able to see his girlfriend until the week is over. With her being just as busy with group projects, there isn’t a time they have free to see each other. So, they settle for voicemails and text message spanning the next few days, which in Eren’s mind, pass by like weeks, maybe months. He misses her. 

Finally, Friday comes, and exams are over. After his last class, he heads straight for his room, knocking out for a long nap. He wakes up to gentle tapping on his door. When he answers, he’s thrilled to see her, smiling brightly at him. “Hi.”

Before he can respond with words, he launches forward, wrapping her in his arms. “I’m so happy to see you.” He buries his nose to the top of her head, inhaling that familiar scent he’s been yearning for all week long. “I missed you so much.”

She laughs, music to his ears, warming his entire soul. “I missed you too.”

He pulls her into his room, pushing the door closed by pressing her up against it with a kiss. They stay like this for a while, his hands caressing her cheeks, her fingers hooked to the waistband of his sweats, tugging ever-so-slightly towards her. They kiss each other, languid, soft, and effortless, like this is exactly where they’re meant to be. He’s been deprived too long without her. He won’t waste another second. 

She pulls away, leaning back to look at him. “Are you hungry? Do you want to get dinner now?”

He smirks, mouth grazing her ear. “I am hungry, but for something else.” One hand trails down to her hip, squeezing. “I’ve been starving for you all week. Dessert first, then dinner.”

She giggles, nipping at his lower lip. “Are we calling this dessert now?” 

“Yup,” he grins. “Because it’s going to be so, so sweet.”

~~~

Within minutes, your clothes are tossed to the floor, stripped and bare in his bed, sheets twisted beneath as your lips smack noisily with each other. “Can I taste you now? Please?” Eren asks.  

You nod, rolling onto your back, spreading your legs for him. He shakes his head, hoisting you over him. “Not like that. I want you to ride my face.”

“What?” you stammer, surprised at the suggestion. 

“Ride my face,” he repeats. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely sure. I want it so bad, baby.” The way his voice sounds needy and desperate has your pussy throbbing. Carefully, you straddle him, lowering yourself slowly. His hands slide around your thighs, gripping you. “Come on. Smother me, sweetie.” More aggressively, he shoves you to his face, tongue already out and licking at your clit. You grasp onto the headboard, rolling your hips onto his mouth, head thrown back in pleasure. His moans are muffled, vibrating into your skin with his lips puckered to your bud, sucking. 

Soon, you’re coming for him, slick gushing from your slit. He drinks it up, slurping it noisily, his hips thrusting into nothing, cock stiff against his abdomen. “Fuck, you taste so good. Think you can ride my cock now, princess?”

Still reeling from your orgasm, you whimper in response, readjusting yourself so you’re on his lap, sliding your slippery cunt along his erect shaft. He rests his head on his palms, elbows splayed, watching you. “That’s it, baby. Get it nice and creamy with your cum. You’re doing such a good job.”

The praise spurs you on, rubbing yourself on his dick until you’re ready for him, tingling all over. You sink down, cock sliding in smoothly until he bottoms out, your pussy entirely full of him. He plants his feet to the bed, thrusting into you gradually. “I know you already came, but can you give me one more, sweetie? Just one more?” It sounds like he wants to add a pretty please to the end of it, nodding his head affirmatively, looking up at you with innocent eyes while he fucks you relentlessly.

You let out a pathetic whimper, nodding along with him, totally captivated. He smiles so sweetly, the tinge of wickedness in his eyes almost goes unnoticed. Almost. Your boyfriend can be a real menace sometimes, acting tender as he man-handles you like his own personal sex doll. His grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh. He’s breathing heavily, exerting all the energy left in his being to give you the best fuck of your life. You bounce on his lap until your legs are spent, yielding all control to him. One hand travels up your spine and lands at the nape of your neck, caressing you, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. His tongue swirls into your mouth, pushing his thick saliva past your lips. He halts his brutal thrusts, hard cock all the way inside you, pussy throbbing around it. 

“Open up, sweetie,” he says. You’re high off his cock, too dumbed out to think rationally, so you obey his command, sticking your tongue out. He bites his lip, studying you like you’re the prized treasure he’s about to collect. He tips your head towards him, leaning in close to spit a wad of his saliva in your mouth. “Swallow.” You do, guzzling every drop of it down your throat. 

“That’s it. Such a good girl,” he coos.

“Give me more,” you groan, sticking your tongue out. 

He grins, smooching your nose. “You like it, don’t you sweetheart?” 

You nod, eyes half-lidded as he does it again, his hot, frothy spit coating the inside of your mouth. Arms coiled around his neck, you clutch onto him tightly, electricity rippling from your core throughout the rest of your body as he pumps his cock in and out of you. 

“Eren,” you whimper, nuzzling his ear. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment, or the fact that you haven’t seen him all week and you missed him so much, you’re bursting at the seams. In a breathy huff, it slips out. “I love you.”

Suddenly, he pauses, stunned by your confession. He holds your face between his palms, staring at you with a serious expression. “What did you say?”

“I love you.”

His lips part, dumbfounded and in a daze, with his dick still hard inside you. It’s not what you imagined it would be like, but in this moment, you wanted to get it off your chest. It’s been simmering within you since New Year’s, and while it’s not the most luxurious of settings, it’s intimate and special, especially with the way his eyes twinkle. “You love me?” he reiterates, clearly in disbelief.

With more confidence, you reply, “I love you, Eren.” You nuzzle your nose to his, smiling. “I love you.”

He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you, too. I’ve loved you this whole time.”

The two of you giggle into each other’s mouths as you kiss, Eren whispering “I love you” in between. You rock your hips onto his lap, making love slowly until eventually, you come together, skin hot and dewy with sweat, hearts thumping loudly against your chests. He cradles you in his arms, peppering more soft smooches around your face, intertwining his legs with yours. A perfect fit. 

@batafuraikisu @bloompompom @monirei @filunara @katestrophes @ichinosejager13 @hoperenae @zellskz @e-ayyy @liliorsstuff-blog @maliakealoha @holdmeclosebutdontloveme @chrollohearttags @sailorputa @squickkk @dnyllmh @hellomeow12 @s-cream-ing @potofstewie @conniesbbymama @erzascarlett28 @lem-hhn @roronoazorosbxtchh @ichigostrawberry15 @rhaelrence @lilshades @bigmoodyjoody @icansmellsouls @aangsupremacy @ashsauroras @bakuhoes-bxtch @si-kamo @jmtherula @imaddicted-b @monkemanjeager @neesiewrote @large-juice @chiinni @belovedackerman

[fakeredheadsstuff]

PLEASE WE NEED YOUR HELP

Valencia has been harmed by the Dana and almost 300 has already died, some are still not found and there’s still people stuck on flooded houses and more!!!

Unfortunately, even though it was said through some social media that this accident would come, it was said publicly that it would stop around 6 pm, it did not, in fact, the flooding started around that hour and many people ended up being stuck or dead, by the time the actual alarm reached the people from Valencia, it was already 8 pm and many have already lost their lives or were unable to reach their houses

So what is a Dana? It is a meteorological phenomenon in the form of an air mass that completely separates itself from a very cold current and descends on another stream of hot air, producing large atmospheric disturbances accompanied by very intense rain

All of this because instead of giving money to the emergency services or evacuations, the money was given to other stuff because it was said they would never need this services

Until now

Many people from near has come to help clean but they still need the things they lost

If you can donate we would all be very grateful, everything from money to food could help

Please try to investigate as much as you can and find ways to donate, even if it’s just money

Many people are desperate because this emergency hasn’t reached many other countries for help like maybe some others would and we need much more help

Here is a list of everything you could donate if you find ways to do so on your cities or counties:

1)Clothes (the bigger the better, they have to be comfortable and fit anyone there who may need it)

2)Children’s clothing

3) Shoes and underwear (whatever you can: women's, men's, children's, socks...)

4) water

5)Milk

6) Non-perishable food (that is already cooked: preserves, cans... Let's keep in mind that many people will not have the option of cooking)

7) Breakfast (powdered milk, baby food, cookies...)

8) animal/pet food

9)medication (cough syrups, aspirin...)

10) Diapers, toilet paper, pads and tampons (this 2 last are very needed since they barely get any)

11) Blankets and coats

12) Solar chargers for mobile phones

13) Flashlights (if they are solar or dynamo, the better)

14) shovels (all Valencia is covered in mud and sand, it’s very much needed)

Even if you can’t donate, please share with as many people as you can!!!

Since I live in Spain I’m not sure about all of your situation or if you can help but please at least share!!!

Please show us that you care, no matter how. Here in Spain we always help other countries and it’s so sad how this situation isn’t reaching as much. You have no idea how much people in Valencia are suffering, and not only that, but their loved ones. Many haven’t even been found, and even some bodies are still stuck. It’s been so long since we lost so many people, innocent people, and it breaks my heart that it doesn’t reach other people as much as other situations do.

Please show us that Spain is more than just the vacation destination you go to in the summer, show us that you care! Show the people in Valencia that their situation matter for more than just their own country.

[katherinedipity]

A Two-Day Getaway with my college friends—Gio, Armae, and Juvy, along with my boyfriend Meo and Juvy's boyfriend, Errol.

Armae, Juvy, and I were supposed to meet before 10:00 am at the bus station so that we could be at Market Market by 11:00 am to do groceries. Unfortunately, Juvy had an emergency, and we were late for the 10:00 am departure of the bus going to BGC-Taguig. We waited for the next scheduled departure, which was at 11:00 am. Armae and I arrived in Taguig past 12:00 noon and decided to wait for Meo at McDonald's Market Market to have lunch and also wait for Juvy and Errol. Before ordering, we discovered that my wallet was missing!!!! Luckily, we found it on the bus we had ridden.

As for Gio, he decided to join us after lunch since he pulled an all-nighter (until 4:00 am!! >.<) working on his job.

Juvy and Errol arrived around 1:00 pm. They ate lunch, and we left around 2:00 pm. We did groceries and arrived at the Airbnb around 5:00 pm. Juvy cooked tuna pesto and chicken wings for dinner. Before eating dinner, Meo, Gio, Armae, and I looked for the nearest convenience store because the flour for the chicken wings was not enough, and we also did not have drinking water.

After dinner, we decided to start drinking tequila and Moscato. It was our first time drinking altogether even though we have been friends since college. After we finished the first bottle of tequila, Gio and Armae decided to buy another two bottles. We drank while learning to play Pusoy Dos. Meo, Armae, and Errol know how to play it. We also played One Night Ultimate Werewolf, which was taught by Errol (fun game!).

I can't say too much about what happened after drinking as I am too tipsy and dizzy to remember. All I can say is I had sooooo much fun spending the two-day getaway with them. Even though we don't meet often because of our busy schedules and distances, the spark of our friendship is still the same. It is my much-needed break because I think my tiredness from work is heading towards burnout.

The next day, we decided to eat lunch before heading home. We ate at Coco Ichibanya located in Glorietta, Makati. Hoping that I can always or at least often spend days with them—a breath of fresh air in my chaotic and tiring world.

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Love Me, or Let Me Go (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello!

Double Lizzie!

Um... No comment other than brace yourselves. Enjoy! :)

“Do you have to go?” You mumbled into Wanda’s collar bone, smiling slightly at the way she absently ran her fingers up and down your spine. “I think your skills will be better utilized here. With me.” You added, softly kissing the base of her neck.

Her body shivered as her hands began gently stroking through your hair. “I’m sorry, krasivaya. I have to.”

Curiosity blossomed in your chest when the foreign word fell from her lips. “What does that mean?”

“Beautiful.” She replied without hesitation. Your cheeks flushed at the term of endearment.

Making your way up her neck, you allowed your lips to linger teasingly at the corner of her mouth. “Is there a way I can convince you to stay?”

Once again, Wanda shivered, and you felt pleased at the way her breathing became uneven. “Y/n…” She whispered, gently tugging you forward to meet her lips in a heated kiss. A moment later she rolled onto you, her lips moving passionately against your own.

You easily wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close, so close that you weren’t sure where she ended, and you began.

The moment was interrupted by the shrill sound of a phone ringing. Wanda began pulling away, but you chased after her lips. “Ignore it.” You mumbled against her lips.

For a moment it seemed like she was going to ignore the call until the ringing started again. “I have to get that.” Wanda said quietly with a small smile. She pressed three quick kisses to your lips before she rolled off of you.

You groaned in displeasure and Wanda just laughed at your response.

As she stepped away to take the call, you pulled on your sweater that was carelessly thrown on the floor. For the first time since the day before you picked up your phone, noticing a few missed messages and calls. You decided to open the messages from Leigh first.

Is it socially acceptable

to throw hot coffee at

men when they whistle

at you? Asking for a

friend.

Sent 9:02 AM

You couldn’t help but laugh at the message as you scrolled on, seeing she had sent two more following the first one.

Jules said to bark at

them. Would that scare

them away or get me

institutionalized?

Sent 9:27 AM

Do you maybe want

to come over tonight?

Sent 2:46 PM

Reading over the last message surprised you. After the talk you had at your office you had begun to see glimpses of the Leigh you knew was hidden by the walls that she had built.

That’s not to say she changed overnight, but the hurricane had settled into a storm. You could navigate that.

Just as you were about to reply that you had plans, Wanda walked back into the room. A sheepish smile spread across her lips as she took a seat next to you. “Let me guess, you’re smiling like that because you’re staying, and we can watch movies and cuddle?” You murmured sarcastically.

Wanda leaned forward and once again pressed three short kisses to your lips. “Unfortunately not, dorogaya.” She took your hand in her own. “I actually have to leave now instead of later tonight. I should only be gone for a day or two though.”

You sighed, and Wanda smiled back at you. “I’m going to miss you.” You admitted. No time with Wanda ever seemed to be enough.

Without a word, she pulled you to your feet, tugging off the sweatshirt she was wearing in the process. All you could manage to do was stare at her in awe. She laughed and reached out to pull off your sweater as well which you easily complied with.

This woman isn’t real. There’s no way she’s real. Your thoughts screamed at you as your mind short-circuited at the sight of her. Wanda giggled.

Your brow furrowed in confusion when she pulled a sweatshirt back over your head. “What are you doing?” You asked with a puzzled smile.

Wanda put your sweater on before answering. “Now you have a piece of me and I have a piece of you. For when I miss you.” She leaned forward and lightly pecked your lips. “And you miss me.”

You melted at her words.

Once you had heard someone say that you don’t remember days, you remember moments and this moment here, with Wanda… This moment you’d remember forever.

Three words hung on your lips, but you forced them back down. It was too soon to say them. “Hurry back to me.” You whispered, giving her one final kiss.

“As fast as I can.” She promised with a soft smile, lingering in the doorway. Wanda always lingered before she left, as if it would be the last time she saw you. Butterflies filled your stomach with the way she looked at you before she sent you one final smile and closed the door behind herself.

With a content sigh, you threw yourself back on your bed, smiling up at the ceiling for a moment.

After a few minutes you pulled out your phone, erasing the reply you had begun to type out to Leigh and sending a new one.

Hey. I’ll be there.

Should I bring anything?

Read 3:11 PM

Institutionalized yet?

Read 3:12 PM

Not institutionalized

YET… but it’s still early.

Sent 3:13 PM

Can you bring flour?

We’re making pizza

from scratch tonight.

Sent 3:14 PM

What an accomplishment!

Cooking? I think you

forgot how terrible of

cook I am.

Read 3:15 PM

It really is, be proud.

It’s flour and water. How

hard can it be? Come over

at 6.

Sent 3:15 PM

If you say so. See you then.

Read 3:16 PM

_______________

It turned out making pizza from scratch was a lot harder than Leigh made it seem. “Why is it so… slimy?” You mumbled, poking what was supposed to be the dough with your finger. You made a face when it jiggled.

“I told you to follow the recipe.” Leigh called in a sing song voice from her place by the stove.

You rolled your eyes. “I did!” She pursed her lips but didn’t comment further. “Hey, there will be no judging!”

A small smirk spread across her lips as she stirred the sauce in the pan. “But I’m so good at it.” She quipped back sarcastically.

Petulantly you poked the dough again. “But I’m so good at it.” You mocked under your breath.

There was a soft click as Leigh turned off the stove, her eyes squinted at you slightly. “Are you mocking me?”

You shrugged challengingly. “What if I am?”

Leigh tilted her head slightly, her lips pressed together in an amused smile. “I don’t know…” She began walking towards the counter slowly as you eyed her wearily. You knew that look. She was up to something. “I might have to do this.”

Before you could react, she had tossed a hand full of flour your way. You gasped. “You didn’t.” Leigh bit her lip to fight back her laughter. “Oh, it’s on.”

As you reached for one of the tomatoes, she sprinted around to the other side of the counter. “Listen, Y/n, we can talk about this.” A short laugh fell from her lips as she mockingly held up her hands.

“What was that?” You grinned, raising the tomato slightly. Leigh’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t hear you with all this flour in my ears.” Quickly scrambling over the counter, you reached out and smashed the tomato into the front of her shirt.

That action unleashed chaos as you and Leigh chased each other around the kitchen with various items that were originally supposed to be for the pizza. When there were no ingredients left, you leaned against the counter, laughing at what disasters you both were.

Leigh laughed along with you and you felt your chest tighten when you heard the sound you had spent so long adoring. She looked so carefree. You missed that. “Alright. I’m going to go change now. Thank you for turning me into the beginnings of pizza dough.”

You playfully squinted your eyes at her. “Says the one who threw flour first.” She opened her mouth to retort. “Go change!” You playfully shouted with a laugh.

With one final teasing glare, Leigh walked off to her room. When she left, you turned to face the kitchen, wincing at the mess you two had made. With a one final grimace, you grabbed a rag and began wiping down the counter.

“Boo!” Jules said loudly, causing you to jump in surprise.

The shock of your friends sudden appearance made you clutch your chest as you shook your head in amusement at her. “Was that necessary?”

Jules shrugged as she leaned against the counter. “You look like a mess.” She commented offhandedly. You just laughed, not offering an explanation for your appearance.

A short moment of silence settled in the air as you continued cleaning up the mess. “Don’t give up on her.” Jules said suddenly.

You froze slightly. “What?”

Even though you didn’t turn you could hear Jules sigh. “On Leigh. Don’t give up on her.” She repeated quietly. “Last year was a nightmare for her. She lost Matt in more ways than one and learned some pretty painful things about him. And to be honest… I don’t think she ever really recovered from losing you either.”

You clenched the rag tightly in your hands before begrudgingly turning to face her. “I’m not giving up on her, Jules. Why do you think I’m here? I want to be her friend again. To be there for her.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Look, Matt was amazing, and Leigh loved him so much. We all did… but towards the end they had drifted apart. They weren’t on the same wavelength anymore. She had to compromise herself. I don’t think she's ever had to do that with you.”

You sighed, but Jules continued on. “Leigh isn’t used to being loved anymore. That’s why she pushes you away. That’s why she said what she did on her birthday.”

The tightening in your chest made a reappearance. “Yeah, well, Leigh made her decision two years ago.”

Jules subtly shook her head. “Someday she’s going to realize that your what she wanted all along... It may not seem like it, but she’s happiest when she’s with you.”

The weight of her words rendered you speechless as you stared blankly at a spot on the counter. “Jules, I-” Wanda’s name was on your lips when she interrupted you.

“She’s a lot, trust me, I know better than most… but don’t give up on her.” She repeated once more in a hurried voice. She stood up just in time for Leigh to walk back in. “Alright, have a fun night you two!” She called out as she rushed out the room, sending you one last meaningful look before she disappeared.

Leigh chuckled as she turned her attention to you. “What was that about?”

Through the fog in your mind you managed a weak, “Nothing.”. Leigh’s eyebrows raised curiously but she didn’t question it. “I’m going to go wash my face.” You mumbled rushing out of the room.

When you reached the bathroom you quickly splashed your face with water, trying desperately to shake Jules’ words from your mind. After a few minutes, you felt calm enough to make your way back to the kitchen.

Leigh was cleaning up, but she looked up when she heard you wander back in. “Hey, I ordered pizza. I didn’t think there was a way for us to salvage… this.” She gestured vaguely to the final creation left standing, your slimy pizza dough.

You shuddered at the sight. “We need to destroy that before it grows legs and walks out of here.” Leigh laughed as she dropped the ball of dough into the trashcan. “What’d you order?” You asked as you leaned your forearms against the counter.

Leigh mimicked your stance and tilted her head to face you. “Extra pineapple.” You stared at her in disbelief for a moment. “I’m kidding. I got spinach and sun-dried tomatoes. That’s still your favorite, right?”

A small smile spread across your lips. “Yeah… it’s still my favorite.” You said quietly. You knew she hated those toppings, but she ordered them anyway. The small action confused you.

________________

After you had both finished eating, you were both sat on the couch, talking casually when your phone buzzed. When you opened the message, you were greeted by a picture of Wanda with a goofy smile, wearing your sweater.

Miss you.

Sent 9:53 PM

The message was simple, but you couldn’t help the adoring way you smiled at your phone. Leigh quirked her eyebrows curiously. “What’s got you so smiley?” She peeked over before you could move your phone out of her sight. The smile on her face fell immediately. “Seriously?”

A heavy sigh fell from your lips at her tone. “Leigh-”

“What? So, are you dating now?” She asked, her words clipped.

Your gaze fell to the floor. “Yes- No- I don’t know? We haven’t talked about labels.” You admitted quietly.

Her lips pressed in a line as she shook her head disbelievingly. “Right. Well, tonight was fun. I’m going to bed now.”

As she stood you followed after her. “What’s your problem?” You demanded. Tired of all the back and forth.

“I don’t have a problem.” Leigh called over her shoulder, feigning disintrest as she continued making her way towards the staircase.

“You obviously do because every time I mention Wanda you shut down.” You grabbed her hand and spun her back around to face you.

Leigh yanked her hand out of your grasp. “Because you’re using her as a placeholder to get over me!” She shouted, making you flinch.

The heat of the moment made it impossible to process your words before they tumbled from your lips. “I’m not, I love her!”

Her mouth fell open as she stared at you in shock, the fight leaving her system. “…What?”

You pushed a frustrated hand through your hair. “I’m in love with her. With Wanda.” You sighed. Your gaze falling to the floor because you weren’t sure you could handle another minute under her scrutinizing stare. “With the way she plays with her fingers when she’s nervous. With the way she scrunches her nose when she’s excited. With the way she lingers in the doorway every time she has to leave. With the way she lets the world move around her because-”

“Why her?’ Leigh interrupted quietly. You tried to ignore the way her eyes glistened.

“Because whenever something happens, she’s the first person I want to tell.” You replied without missing a beat.

For a moment Leigh just stared at you. You noticed the way her lip quivered ever so slightly. “Did you love me?”

The shock of the question rendered you speechless for a moment. “You can’t be serious.” The way she blinked back at you made it clear she was serious. “I loved you to the point of ruin, Leigh. I loved you so much that I had to build myself from the ground up again because all that was left of me was ashes after you chose him.” Your breathing became ragged as you fought to push your words out. “I loved you enough to let you go but you keep pulling me back.”

Her gaze fell to the floor, but she didn’t respond. “Why do you even care? You don’t want me. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

She paused and took a breath, her eyes never meeting yours. “Y/n, I never-… I l-… If you're going to leave then go.”

“You can’t keep doing this to me.” You sighed. “Love me or let me go, Leigh.”

You winced at your word choice but didn’t take them back. When it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything else, you nodded slightly, accepting the silence as her answer.

Unable to take it anymore, you turned and left.

_______________

Hours later you had fallen into a restless sleep until repetitive banging on your front door startled you awake. You were surprised to find Leigh on your doorstep, the bags under her eyes were more apparent than ever. Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but worry.

The worry faded when she spoke.

“I hate you.”

A disbelieving laugh fell from your lips. “Wow. Okay, that’s great, Leigh. Thank you for driving all the way over here at 1 in the morning to tell me that.” You began closing the door when she put her hand on it to stop you. You didn’t fight her.

Leigh continued as if you hadn’t even spoken. Her eyes glistened brightly under the light of the moon. "I hate you because every time I’m around you it feels wrong.”

You fought desperately to ignore the pain that bloomed in your chest at her words. “Alright. I get it, Leigh.” You mumbled staring down at the floor. You couldn’t understand why she was doing this. “You can go now.”

“I hate you because you make it so fucking hard to be around you and not love you.” Your eyes shot up to meet hers just as tears began falling down her cheeks. You couldn’t breathe. “It feels wrong because nothing about it feels wrong and it should. It feels wrong because everything about you feels right. You shouldn’t feel right, and I feel so fucking guilty, Y/n.”

All you could do was stare back at her, all your words wiped entirely from your mind. Her lip began to quiver once again. “Say something.” Leigh pleaded. You opened and closed your mouth, but no words came out.

Eventually your frustration took precedence because why now? Why not two years ago? “What do you expect me to say to that, Leigh?”

Leigh used her palm to wipe the tears that flowed steadily down her cheeks. “Say that you haven’t given up on me yet.” She whispered.

Jules words rang in your mind as you struggled to keep your breath steady. “Why now?”

“Because you’re like oxygen to me and I’ve been holding my breath for too long… Because I don’t want to lose you without knowing that I tried.” Leigh took your hand and held it to her chest, much like you did the day of her wedding. “Does it feel like this to you?”

Your breath hitched when she repeated the words you once told her back to you. “I love Wanda.” You whispered, feeling her hand slacken slightly in your own, but her eyes continued to shine with determination.

“Do you want us to be done?” She asked, holding her breath.

The way she was looking at you was unbearable as you shut your eyes to avoid the emotions that came with meeting her gaze. “I don’t- I don’t know.” You stuttered out.

“Well, I don’t. I don’t want us to be done.” When you opened your eyes again Leigh gently wiped away a tear that had fallen down your cheek.

For a moment you both stared at one another, the emotions making the air around you feel heavy. Leigh gently took one of your hands and slowly brought it up to her cheek. She lightly kissed the inside of your palm before she leaned into it. Your chest clenched as you watched her closely.

You allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of her skin under your fingertips. Her lips parted slightly as you saw her eyes fall to your lips, her chest rising and falling unsteadily with shallow breathes.

A moment later, Leigh slowly leaned into you, her lips tentatively pressing against your own. You had kissed Leigh dozens of times before, but none had ever been like this. It was as though she was trying to pour all her emotions into this one kiss. To make you understand how she felt with this one kiss.

When you realized what was happening you quickly pulled away. “Leigh, stop. I can’t do this to Wanda.” You stepped back, putting a fair distance between you both.

Leigh’s eyes filled with sadness, but she nodded faintly. “Please, just think about what I said.” You nodded, not feeling up to saying anything else. “I’m not giving up on you.”

With a final nod, Leigh turned and got into her car which you watched drive away. All you wanted to do was scream in frustration.

____________________

Even though you were expecting it, the knock on your door made you jump. Anxiety quickly overcame you as you rushed over to open the door. Your heart thudded guiltily against your ribcage when your eyes fell on a smiling Wanda. “Hi, krasivaya.”

All you could do was leap into her arms, quickly pulling away when you felt her flinch. “Are you okay?”

Wanda managed an unconvincing nod as she pulled you back in. “Just fell on the trip, I’m okay. Holding you is worth it.” As gently as you could, you wrapped your arms around her and breathed in her sweet scent. The anxiety you felt earlier easing slightly in her presence.

“I missed you.” You said quietly, as you pulled her in and led her to the couch.

“I missed you too.” She replied back without hesitation. Your gaze fell to your lap and you could feel Wanda’s concern without even looking at her. “What’s wrong?”

Her fingers slid against your palm as she squeezed your hand gently. You had to tell her. Everything. “There’s something you should know.” You said quietly. The concern in Wanda’s eyes grew.

Part 5! Um... it had to happen. Also I feel like this part was particularly important because we got to see a different side of Leigh. Sure, she's a lot sadness most of the time but if you watch the show, she's actually kind of dorky when she's not mad or sad. Hopefully this showed more of her depth.

How's the team Leigh vs. Team Wanda debate?

I hope you all enjoyed! I am so excited to read all your comments about this part! Remember, thoughts and comments are always welcome. :)

Tag list:

@khiaraaa-in-spacee // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo //@halobaby // @madamevirgo // @aimezvousbrahms //@trikruismybitch // @marvels-writings // @izalesbean // @imdreamingblo // @i-choose-you-cyndaquil // @helloalycia // @scarlets-maximoff // @cantcontroltheirfear // @women-am-i-right // @funnysoldier // @myfavoriteficss // @imapotatao // @imagine-reblog // @blackxwidowsxwife // @purplemeetsblue // @cristin-rjd // @raven-ss // @legaypandaboi

[whaleofatjme1920]

Valentine's thingy

[Disclaimer: Letters To Those You Hold Dear (Valentine's Edition) is a special event I'm holding from February 13th - February 23rd 11:59 PM. Find the guidelines HERE so you can send a letter or two to those you hold dear <3.]

[AN: Not a problem at all, don't be ashamed. I'm actually surprised more creeps related asks haven't come in! EJ is a valid man to write to. Happy belated Valentine's to you as well, love bug!]

(Aubrey, 25, She/her, romantic, and this is my first letter. This is for Ej 😓 -I'm so ashamed of myself lmao-))

Heya Jack, 

Oi. It's been a good minute since I spoke to you. I just wanted to let you know that I've been missing you. A lot. I wish I could see you ya'know. I hope you're having a great time where you are. 

What are you up to? Have you found any new interests? Anything noteable? Uh.. found any books you like?... I hope you're doing good there. And that your 'coworkers' haven't been bothering you too much . Tell them hi for me though!

Ooh, I've drawn you a lot of things lately! I can't wait to show them to you. I'm really proud of some of them.

Man, this all sucks. You know I don't like writing letters. 

Anyway, I'm still collecting those cool bottle caps and pieces of garbage. In case you're wondering. I have three whole jars in my closet and I'm about to get started on a project I've been wanting to do. I've also been working harder on my classes. Haven't failed a test yet and have a perfect report.  I also learned how to cook a few more recipes- not that it really affects you lmaoo. 

I've also been going on walks at night lately, out in the forest behind my house. I've found it's a great way to calm down after a busy day. It's nice, kind of reminds me of you actually in a way. Unfortunately I'm pretty sure they're cutting the forest down for a housing development... Oh well. At least I'm moving after I graduate. Maybe I can find some little cabin somewhere in the mountains.

Last thing since I know you're probably busy. Maybe next time we see eachother we can go camping, y'know. Not like you don't basically live in the forest. But we don't need to talk about that lmaoo. But, we could go stargazing and have a bonfire. Maybe I could find some more things for my scrapbook. Oh. And you know of course. Cuddles.(and cough, cough maybe more) Lmaoo. Oh. And I want another one of your hoodies. 

Damn this is awkward writing this. And that's coming from a writer- I think I'll leave it there. Just know that again. I really fucking miss you. 

Love, 

Aubrey

((HAPPY LATE VALENTINE'S. I was super lazy with this and I was super tired so I'm sorry if it's disorganized. I just wanted to put one in while I had the inspiration to. ))

.

.

Dear Aubrey,

It's such a pleasure to hear from you again. It's also a pleasure to hear that you've been thinking of me again. Admittedly, I share in the sentiment. I've been up to my neck in work. Whatever that absolute insane idiot Zalgo is doing... It's working in his favor. Proxies have been needing impromptu medical assistance faster than we can supply it.

Besides actual work, I've been getting back into journaling. Kate has suggested scrapbooking to go along with the pictures people bring me in as little gifts, and I'm thinking about taking that up. I've always had a fondness for making field guides and the likes, perhaps I'll actually put those love to use. No books, haven't really had the time to ransack people's houses, but if you have any suggestions, please, do not hesitate.

I'd love to see your art some time soon. I wonder if you've implemented any sketch techniques I've mentioned before? But your art shines on its own just fine. Your collection sounds a bit fascinating, and I've love to see that as well. I am also very pleased to hear that your school work has been going well, but don't work yourself too hard! I know how easy it is to actually get wrapped up in academics. Those are doctor's orders.

Alongside your walks, I've always loved being outside. I like studying the stars, and well, I'd love to tell you about their stories from all different cultures, how they were formed... It would be fantastic, wouldn't it? Just you, me, a bonfire, something sweet and I get to hold you... What a lovely time. Here's to hoping that I see you soon, and that Zalgo lets up sometime soon! I'm tired of getting biohazards on my clothing. Lord knows I can't give those hoodies to you.

My deepest affections,

Jack

[chemicallady]

Matching

Greg Sanders x Reader!

A/N: Hi everyone! Have you ever noticed that there are not enough Greg Sanders fanfiction in the world? I have looked for some for a while, but nothing. Now, stop complaining and let's have fun togheter, this is my first Greg Sanders x Reader! I hope you will like it! Besos! 

 Couple: Greg Sanders/Female!Reader 

Category: Fluff 

Content Warning: // 

 Summary:  this is the first time Greg tries to find love with an app. Who knows whohe  is gonna meet with a cyber matching?

  ***

Las Vegas, October 5th 2015 

The last month was rough for him. Many things had changed forever. Nick had resigned from the team, Sarah decided to take a break after a big promotion in order to restore her relationship with Grissom, Catherine is back to her position as the leader of the night shift. 

Russell is moving on with his life and Finn is gone. Forever. No matter how much his tried to save her life or they prayed for her, she is gone. 

Greg is not confortable with big changes. For the first time in forever he is feeling like he is flooting. Dr Robbins said that is normal, in a moment like this one, in which he has escaped the death again, to feel this way.

«Maybe you need a fresh new start.»

Everyone is starting something, whatever. Nick is a boss now, Sarah is happy with her ex husband and former director of the lab. Even Hodges is living the moment, with a new girlfriend. 

«He met her on a website», Henry said to Greg during a coffee break. 

He laughted, then he used this information against Hodges. 

«It isnt a website... I am not dating a russian wife!»

Greg smirked, «No more girls interested in your Visa after the italian one?»

«Shut the fuck up, Sanders. Nowdays is normal using dating app. You should try and stop wasting my time!»

****

He didnt download Tinder only because Hodges suggested it. 

Of course.

He decided to try the app only to dimostrate that is a poor life choice. 

But the amounth of time he have spent in looking at girls profiles is already too much to look credible. Furthermore, Lindsay have noticed him swapping girls away and she giggled amused. «You should try to go on a date. Dont tell my mom, but I met a guy once, on Tinder. He was really awsome, but he was a tourist. An advice, always take a loool if she is a resident!»

And he followed her suggestion, making the opposite. Just to have some fun. 

There are many people who only are in Vegas for having fun and even if was cool, meeting girls who only want a one night stand, after three or four date started to make him feel bored. 

He always talk a little about is job, fake interesting in the girl’s plan for her vacation and everything ending in the morning. 

So he decided to try something else. 

A serious date, for once. 

***

He is exploring your profile since the moment you two matched. He is fascinating by your (y/e/c) eyes in the profile picture. You look smart but gentle at the same time. No mention to the fact that even if you are linving in Vegas, you are from (you hometown/nation) and you are a PhD candidate in Archaelogy. 

You dont look like the other girls he met in the last period. You are a student, a really good one. You have a picture in front of Columbia University, which you attended for your MSc and graduated.

So you are not only smart, but really intelligent. 

You have those beautiful (y/h/c) hair and a gentle smile. 

So he picks all his courage and writes you a simple ‘hi’. 

You dont answer immediatly, even if you have read the message. So Greg closes the app with disappointed. Well. It’s proved. You cant find love in one of this app. 

He decides that is far better to start with the awfull pile of documents on the desk, before is too late. Or to early, depends by the point of view. 

*** 

He had finished with paperwork around 7 am and so he decided to go home.

In the moment he enters the living room, he feels so lonely. It’s happening quite often in the last period. He kicks his shoes away and sits on the sofa, taking a deep breath. With his eyes close, he starts to thing about the last serious date and its look like a century ago.

And it was a complete failure.

Everytime he fell for a girl is always the same old story. Firstly, amazing. Then a mess because of his job.

But he doesn't have to change is life only because he feels the emptiness of his house. He has worked so much to achieve this results and now...

Now? What he has? A good position in an horrible schedule shift. An amazing group of team mates - unfortunately Hodges is still working in the materials lab, but who cares- but no social life. No family. He is 40 now and he was looking for a 25 years girl.

So silly.

So stupid.

But what's is even silliest? Losing himself in those throughs instead of sleep. He has his shift starting at 11 pm, but he has the laudary to do. And he need to clean the apartment. Is full of dust.

****

After seven hours sleeping, he feels himself far more positive. It's around 2 pm when he wakes up and start with the laudary. He gets a look on the phone and answer to Morgan under a pic on facebook, than he notices that he has a new notification on Tinder.

He is so surprise when he realises that is you.

-who wrote 'hi' at 4.30 in the morning?-

He blushes a little, thinking about it. It was really early and he hasnt realised it.

-someone who is working at night...?-

The answer is not the best. But you are smart and you bring a good observation.

-like a hooker?-

He laught a little, rising his elbow.

-sorta. But not so well paid.-

Making fun of the hookers is not a good way to start a conversation, but someway, it works. You two share some messages and then you give your phone number to him.

You are free tomorrow for lunch, even if is unusual meeting someone with the sun in the sky, in Vegas.

And he is totaly down.

***

Is strange for you to go on a date with someone you don't know. But it is even strangest go for a lunch date. It's look so formal to you, but the guy in the profile pic looks potentially awsome. You have read from his description that he works for the Clark Country Police Department and this is a hot detail: you have a thing for cops.

You dressed nicely for the lunch inside The Venice's restaurant. Classy choice by the way. But not elegant because is 12 am. You also decide to go easy on your make up, because after this date you have to help in teaching a bacherlo class and you are hoping that you won't have enough time to change, after the meal.

So here we go.

In front of the restaurant.

You look around and see a figure a couple of meters away from you. He is pretty tall and with dark blonde hair. He is also well dressed, better then you, but not formal.

Your glazes meet in the middle of the atrium and you both smile embarrassed. He is the first one to move some steps near to you.

《Hi. You are (y/n)?》

《Yes. And you must be Greg.》

You shake his hand and then catch his invitation to enter in the restaurant first. The waiter reserved you a nice place on the balcony. The cannel is fake, not even similar to the Italian one, but is romantic.

One score for Greg.

《What would you like to eat?》, he asked so politely that you can't help yourself, but smile back.

《I thing I'll go with a sandwich for lunch》

《Nice choice, I am down. Wine?》

《Sorry, but I have a class in the afternoon...》

This time he is smiling. 《Then water for two.》

He is so kind. He decides to drink water because you can't drink wine. This is another score.

After you two have made your orders, it's time for questions.

《Do you usually meet people this way?》, je asks, nicely. Even if there is no accusation in the tune of his voice, you blush a little.

《It's not the first time, but I am still a skeptical, by the way.》

《Why?》

《Because I've met only morons on Tinder. 》 You try your best smile. 《Hope you are not one of them.》

《I share this hope with you》, he jokes. 《I am looking for your verdict at the end of the meal, so.》

You both laught. Is a nice company and the tension is going away.

《So you are a cop?》

《Not exactly. I work for the crime like as a crime scene investigator.》

You looked impressed. 《Sounds amazing but hard at the same time. I am asking to my self you an awsome guy like you is still single.... is for your job?》

This time is Greg the one who blushes. 《Yes is really... It takes most of my time. Someday all of my time.》

《I can relate》, you say. 《I am not cool as you are, I don't save people for live, neither I am good in puzzle but... I work on field so I spend several weeks abroad. Sometimes even a month or two and when I come back...》

《...You have the feeling that everyone is carries on with his life but you are static》 he ends your statement. 《Yes, you can relate, totaly.》

You two share a smile and then he starts to ask you some questiom about your job, your position at the UNLV and stuffs.

In the end, after a sweet fight, he insists to pay the meal, but you put on the table the tips.

《It was really nice 》, you say and he agrees. 《We should do that again. What's your spare night?》

《Monday》 he aswers, immediately 《If my boss wont tell me otherwise.》

《If you are agree, you can see eachother again on Monday, so.》

《It will be amazing.》

Another smile and a little silence. You have no idea of what to do now. Is too soon for a kiss, but an hand shake would be awful. So you decide to come closer to him and kiss his cheek. Is so cute the way he blushes again. Greg is near now and you can feel his breath on your lips. For him, is not too soon. He gently puts a hands on you hip and drag you into a soft kiss.

The best way to end a good date.

****

《So how is she?》

After two weeks dating, Greg decides to tell the guys about you.

Terrible idea.

《She is so nice!》 He starts excited, while Catherine is laught, shaking is head and look at David Philips in the classical 'told ya' way. 《She is beautiful and gentle. She is also tremendously determinate. More than anything, she is so intelligent and her smell is amazing.》

《She can cook?》, Super Dave asks, joking.

《Everything you can say, she can do it. Is incredible. She speaks like five languages and is so sexy in bed.》

《This information is not necessary 》 is Catherine's comment.

But Dave wants to prove a point now. 《....She speaks five languages in bed or it was not correlated?》

《Guys, we are on a crime scene.》

The two boys share a small smile and wait for Russell to be far enough. So Dave asks one last question. 《Are you only fancy her... or maybe you are already in love?》

Greg thinks about it for a couple of second. 《I am already fucked.》

Dave laughs, 《of couse you are.》

[buckyreaderrecs]

Gloxinia

Summary: You’re a witch that helps The Avengers a couple of times. Bucky Barnes finds some sort of happiness and healing in you, and the flowers you surround yourself with. He’s a boy in lalalove. 

 Words: 5,808 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, James 'Rhodey' Rhodes, Clint Barton, Thor Odinson Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), witch!Reader, enhanced!Reader, she/her pronouns for Reader, other characters mentioned but not in scenes, recovering!Bucky, witchy vibes, evil werewolf clones, sassy Sam Wilson, LOTS of flower symbolism, Avengers compound, fluff Warnings: reference to having nightmares but nothing serious My masterlist.

Note: This was written for @the--sad--hatter and her Flowers For My Followers writing challenge. Kara, I love you, and I hope you love this. Also shout out to @vibraniumwitch for being my witchy inspiration always. Also, sorry for probably wrong geography stuff; I'm Australian and don't know shit about New York/Upstate New York loooool.

 Gloxinia

For any of The Avengers to be sceptical of witchcraft seemed, to be perfectly frank, really fucking stupid. Each of their lives had been wrapped up in magic and mystery, so to have them hold back smirks and send mocking glances across the table at each other was not exactly what you had expected.

To be fair, it wasn't all The Avengers making fun. At the head of the table, Steve Rogers watched with curiosity, although he was sure his expression read as neutral. Sam Wilson took the seat closest to you, asking the same question phrased multiple ways.

"So, a witch witch?" "Is it more Sabrina or Charmed?" "Really just making a potion, huh? Like a real life witch…"

He broke the tension, which would have been otherwise unbearable.

Tony Stark, Clint Wilson, and James 'Rhodey' Rhodes had been reduced to acting like teenagers at the mere suggestion of brewing a potion. You'd been hoping for a different audience. Specifically, Wanda Maximoff. She would have believed you. Alas, you had not been gifted your choice in company.

"Alright, Broom-hilda, show us what 'cha got," Tony said, growing impatient.

"Do we really have to drink that?" Clint added, peering into the bowl you'd been mixing things in. "Won't turn our skin purple? Grow an extra limb?"

Rolling your eyes, you held up a plant. "Magnolia, for perseverance. Or, add the petals to a salad for a bit of extra colour," you explained in your best infomercial voice.

Sam snorted, then began to poke around the rest of the ingredients. "What’re the orange ones for?"

"That's nasturtium. For conquest."

When you'd finished the mix, you let it cook over a small, portable heat pad. Modern witch, and all that. Hot off the stove, you poured the liquid into a collection of small, glass bottles.

"Let it cool, cork them, then drink it when you need it," you announced, matter-of-factly.

When Natasha Romanoff had exhausted all of her routes of gathering information, returning with only your name, everyone was close to admitting defeat. The battle was lost, surely, if a witch's potion was the only hope… But Steve wasn't in the business of giving up. He sent Sam to bring you to the compound.

Steve explained that they had located a source of power. Ancient, unstable, highly sought-after power. And even with all their superhuman strength and superhuman speed and superhuman everything, they couldn't get to it. Maybe, though, with what was best described as a performance-enhancing-witchy-substance, they had a fighting chance.

The room looked over the bottles.

"How do we know if it'll work?" Sam asked, picking one up and inspecting it.

"We don't," Tony answered. It was less an attack than a statement of unfortunate fact.

"You'll just have to trust me."

Sam nodded, and watched as you pulled a sprig of yarrow and put it into his bottle.

"Yarrow, for healing," you told him.

"Yeah, ah… Can I grab some of that too?" Rhodey asked. "Falc ain't the only brother without super healing."

 …

"No," 

"But-"

"No. I'm not gonna be a magical drug dealer to-" but Sam cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

"Y/N, Y/N, you got it all wrong! I don't want that nasty nasturtium stuff. Nah, I'm thinking… truth serum?"

"Truth serum," you repeated deadpan.

"Yeah, nightshade," he says nodded and wriggling his eyebrows. He was doing his best 'good kid does extra credit' impression.

"You googling 'truth plant' isn't impressive," you said. That elicited a snort from Sam's companion.

Standing next to him, silent and appearing impatient, Bucky Barnes crossed his arms over his chest. But the snort had dragged him into the conversation.

"And what do you want?" you asked him.

"What?"

"Love spell. Vampire tracker. Or just an easy bottle of truth serum too?"

Bucky blinked at you, then slowly shook his head. "I've had enough serums to last me a lifetime… I'm just here 'cause Steve said you'd kick his ass before you gave him any…magic or whatever," he answered, motioning to Sam.

"So Rogers got all the trio's brains, huh?"

Sam and Bucky frowned in unison.

"Look, we normally just use Nat for this kind of thing. But our guy ain't talking, and we need the information," Sam tried again. "She's out of town, and Wanda's taking a break from getting in people's heads."

Being called in to brew superhero steroids as a once off was one thing… Having the Falcon and the Winter Soldier show up on your doorstep at 11:00 pm was another. However, the men looked desperate.

Sighing, you looked at them. "Fine. Come in. I might be able to help." 

You lead the men through your living room, overlooked by a small kitchen. Their faces told you a lot. "You were expecting a magic cave? Portal to a hut in the middle of a forest?"

"Yeah, kinda," Sam replied, casually shrugging.

"Do you live in a nest?" you asked him.

Bucky chuckled.

"Alright, I get it. The witch thing isn't always literal."

But that's when you pulled a dark purple velvet curtain back, revealing a room you referred to as your office.

"Woah," Bucky whispered to himself.

"Now, see, this is what I'm talking 'bout!" Sam exclaimed, looking around the room in awe.

The small, windowless room was framed by floor to ceiling bookshelves on three of the walls. Stuck between books were trinkets and oddities. Against the fourth wall was a table covered in dried herbs, potted plants, and other things neither Sam nor Bucky could identify.

"Sit," you instructed, pointing to the round table in the centre of the room. There were scorch marks and deep gashed in the wood grain. Bucky traced them with his right hand.

As they pulled out chairs and sat, Sam pointed, "Is that a microwave?"

"For heating potions… and hot pockets," you explained. "So, how much can you tell me?"

"Officially - nothing. Unofficially - your magic juice helped save the world a month ago, so, whatever you need to know," Sam answered.

"Okay. And, none of those C.I.A. psychotropic L.S.D. drugs are real? No secret truth serums invented by Bruce Banner?" you asked, more out of interest than need-to-know.

"If they do, they ain't telling us," Sam said. 

He explained that they had a man in custody. The man knew a date and a location, but he wasn’t cracking in interrogation and time was running out.

"Sounds very spy T.V. dramatic," you mused.

"But it's real life," Bucky said.

"Yeah," you replied, looking at him and his serious expression. "Okay, so what's meant to happen? On the date or whatever?"

"You'll sleep better not knowing that," from Bucky, his expression remaining the same.

You trusted him to gauge what you should and should not know. Nodding, you turned around and began to look for the things you needed. The men watched, leaning over the table when you put things on it.

"I don't do magic on other people. It's a line we don't cross. So, no truth serum. What I can do is try to pull the information you need from somewhere else. Bring it here," you told him.

When you joined them at the table you smiled at their matching faces; furrowed brows and darkened eyes.

"You're sure he knows what you need to know?" you asked. They nodded. "Do you have anything of his?" Sam frowned, shook his head.

Bucky thought for a second, then pulled a knife out of somewhere. "Haven't cleaned this yet. Might still have some of his blood on it,"

"Disturbing, but okay," you said, taking the knife and putting it in the wooden bowl in front of you.

The room went silent as you picked white chrysanthemum petals off a fresh stem and dropped them into the bowl. Begonias followed, then basil. Truth. Knowledge. Success.

"One of you has to be the vessel,"

"The vessel?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. The information needs to go to someone. It can't be me,"

"I'll do it," Bucky offered.

For a second you hesitated, wondering how white magic would work through someone with so much darkness in their past. But that was just it - it was the past.

"You need to wear this," you said, handing him a crown made of blackthorn plant. "It's like, a filter. Brings in good luck, and lets the universe know you're working for good."

Bucky looked at the thing in his hands, slowly putting it on his head.

"Suits you, man," Sam said, smirking. Bucky just shot him a look.

They fell silent again, watching you carefully place a few more things in the bowl before filling it with a liquid poured from a glass jar that looked like it once held pasta sauce. Everything sat swimming but still until you placed a hand either side of the bowl, then it started to simmer. It bubbled and popped and seemed to quickly reduce down, evaporating faster than it scientifically should have. Soon, all that was left was about shot glass worth of black, thick syrupy liquid.

"Where's my knife?" Bucky asked.

"Gone," you replied as you poured the potion into a cup. You handed it to Bucky and he looked at you apprehensively. "Drink it and focus on what you want to know… Think about the guy. And, think about what happens if you don't find out what he knows. Think about it so hard that it hurts."

Bucky nodded slowly but shot the liquid quickly. At first, he just sat there, almost like he was stunned.

"How long-" Sam went to ask, but you shushed him.

Suddenly, Bucky pushed back from the table, standing up and sending his chair flying. Sam followed, holding his arms out like he expected Bucky to fall.

"It's okay," you told Sam. "He's okay."

Bucky's eyes were shut tight, and he held his head, fingers curling around his blackthorn crown. He began to breathe heavily, mouth open.

"Is he gonna spew?!" Sam shrieked in a high-pitched voice.

Taking the empty wooden bowl with you, you stood and moved to Bucky. He went still and mimicked your exact movements of slowly lowering yourself to the ground and kneeling. Sam didn't understand how Bucky knew what to do; you'd not uttered a command.

You placed the bowl between you and Bucky. He leaned over it, and began to cough and pull something from his mouth. It was impossibly long, coming from somewhere deep inside him. He pulled and pulled, letting it slop into the bowl. When it was all out, he spat, then seemingly woke up, falling on his butt and backing away from the bowl.

"What the fuck," he said between heavy breaths.

Sam and Bucky watched you look through the muck and gunk in the bowl, no hesitation to your movement.

"What is that?" Sam asked, truly disgusted. 

You looked over to Bucky, who was looking at the thing intently. He scrambled back over and took it from you. "I know…" he started, looking up at Sam. "I know… everything.”

 …

 You had dropped cutlery three times, but when it was almost midnight and no company had come, you were getting restless. In your office, sat at the table, you shuffled a deck and laid out cards.

The Hanged Man. The Hermit. The Hierophant, reversed. The Lovers.

Then, 11.11 and a soft knock on the door.

Bucky Barnes looked sleep deprived but somehow hopeful.

"I thought I might see you tonight," you told him, opening the door and letting him through. "Were you right? About the date and place?"

"Yes," he said, coming to stand in your living room.

"Good. What do Earth's Mightiest Heroes need now then?"

Bucky looked around. "Do you have any pets?" he asked.

"No. Do you?"

"A cat. Alpine... Thought you'd have one… black cat or something." He wasn't teasing, like Sam had.

"Black cat? Thought you guys were the ones with a black cat?"

Bucky grinned. "Funny. You're funny,"

"Thanks… You're not here for them then,"

"No," he said, walking over to the window where plants were everywhere. "Do you use all of these? For your magic?"

"Most of them, yeah. Like, these ones…" You moved to stand next to him. "They give strength,"

"Snapdragons," Bucky identified.

"Yep. And… Vervain are protective in nature, especially from enchantment." You picked a sprig of the purple plant, threaded it through Bucky's hair, behind his ear.

"What about nightmares? What helps with those?" he asked earnestly.

The room was illuminated by candlelight. A soft orangy glow lit up half his fast, casting the other half into shadow. You turned to him and cupped his face in your hands.

"A tired soldier… Sing him to sleep… A tired soldier… The devil's to keep," you sung gently, running your thumbs along his cheeks. "Sit. I'll brew you tea,"

"Tea?" Bucky asked, a little hesitant to be out of your hands.

"Magic tea," you clarified, rolling your eyes.

Elderflower for compassion and sweet-brier petals for healing. A little poppy and chamomile, and other secrets kept in your family for generations. A dash of Indian jasmine to finish. It glimmered as you swirled it in the teacup.

Bucky was on the couch, sitting up too straight.

"Take your boots off. Lay down," you instructed. He went to protest, probably say you didn't need to put that much effort in. "Please," you said, stopping the protest. "Let me do this."

Bucky followed your commands and took the teacup when offered. He skulled it like a frat boy in a bar trying to impress his mates.

"Now close your eyes. Sleep," you said, taking the empty cup from him.

Kneeling next to the couch, you softly ran your fingers through Bucky's hair and waited until he fell asleep before you moved to your own bed.

He was gone when you woke up.

 …

 "What? No broomstick?" called the unmistakable voice of Sam Wilson.

Standing at the open boot of your car, you looked up and watched him approach, Bucky trailing behind, hands shoved in his pockets.

"You stalking me now?" you asked, clocking the bunch of flowers in Sam's hands.

"Nope. Just waiting for you. Weren't home and we wanted to drop off a thank you, for the helping last week," he said, holding out the bouquet to you.

"So, the information was good?" you asked, pretending Bucky hadn't already confirmed it to you. His late night visit to you a few nights before was obviously not something he'd shared with his friends.

"It was good. You do good work,"

"Thanks," you said dubiously, but taking the flowers.

"We picked those out especially. This one is a gerball-"

"Gerbera," Bucky correct.

"Means 'you are the sunshine of my life' and this one is an orchid, for beauty," Sam rattled off.

"What about this one?" you asked, pointing to the yellow agrimony.

"Buck picked that one. What's it mean?" Sam asked, looking over to Bucky. Bucky was leaning against your car casually. He shrugged, pretended to not know agrimony was the gratitude plant.

"They're beautiful. You didn't have to," you told them, putting the flowers in one of the boxes in the boot of your car.

"You need a hand?" Sam asked, not waiting for a response. He swooped in and collected one of the heavy boxes. Bucky followed, picking up the other.

"Ah… sure…"

You let them carry your things inside, put them on the kitchen bench.

"More witch stuff? Eye of newt? That kind of thing?" Sam asked.

"If microwave popcorn and frozen lasagna is witchy, then ya got me," you laughed. "You're gonna be disappointed if you keep thinking like that, Sam,"

"You say that but I've seen behind the curtain. You're definitely witchy enough,"

"Yeah, yeah… So what do you want? You didn't just come to give me flowers," you asked, launching yourself backwards and up to sit on the bench.

You glanced over at Bucky, who was back over at the window and the plants. Sam clocked you looking, but filed that away.

"We've got an offer for you,"

"When you say 'we,' who exactly do you mean?"

"Us! The Avengers! Superheros!" Sam said, chest puffed out.

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. "Nope,"

"You haven't even heard-"

"No. I'm happy doing what I do," you told him.

"I told you," Bucky chimed in, stopping at a gloxinia, something about its prettiness resonating with him. "What's this one mean?"

"Love at first sight," you said, biting your lip to hide a smile.

"Whatever you do doesn't come with the perks we have," Sam persisted.

"Also doesn't come with anonymity I kinda like,"

"Alright. I tried. Can't promise we won't be back for more help though. Like I said, you do good work... So, this lasagna. Fresh?"

…

 "Well, if it isn't Broom-hilda," Tony said, arms open.

"I hope you're not expecting a hug," you replied, holding your own arms around yourself. Bucky snorted from next to you.

"Brumhilda?! A name derived from Brunnhilde, no doubt. I have a friend named-"

"Yeah, now's not the time for Asgardian tales," Tony interrupted a seemingly very excited Thor.

"Her name's Y/N," Bucky said to Thor.

Thor looked back and forth between Tony and you. "He thinks it's funny," you explained.

"It is. And I am," Tony argued.

You sighed, sat down in one of the conference room's chairs and began to slowly spin on it. "So, what am I doing here?"

When Sam and Bucky knocked on your door before the sun had a chance to rise and shine that morning, you knew it was going to be hard to say no to them. They both looked upset, and Sam was even free from his usual quips. As soon as you saw their faces, you began to nod. "Let me get dressed. I'll come," you whispered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Bucky pulled up a seat next to you, the rest of the room taking the cue and finding their spots around the large table. You recognised everyone, having met most of them. Clint and Rhodey nodded politely in your direction.

"Y/N," Steve greeted, sitting next to Bucky. "Good to see you. Heard these punks have been harassing ya?"

"Nothing she can't handle," Sam cut in, sitting on your other side.

"Truly sorry for them," Steve said, grinning.

You shrugged, looking at Bucky. "They're alright."

Tony cleared his throat. "Whole team isn't here yet, but they're coming… We're going to need all the help we can get."

 ...

 "There's too many of them!” 

"At least they're not evil flying robots!"

"Hey! I said I was sorry!"

"Cap, we've got to try somethin' else. Bullets ain't doin' shit."

"Wanda? Can you-"

"On it."

"Do you need me to go big? 'Cause I'll go big."

"Yes! Mr. Stark, can he go big?!"

From your hidden vantage point higher up the mountain, you watched the battle play out in front of you. Through the earpiece you listened to The Avengers et. al. try to work out what to do. It was true - they were severely outnumbered. The situation was going from bad to worse.

"Jesus!" you yelped as someone almost body-slammed themselves next to you.

"Sorry. Checkin' you're still here,"

"Where else would I be?"

Bucky shrugged, reloaded.

"What are they, Buck? I know a lot about a lot, but I've never seen anything like them."

You took another look through the M22 field binoculars you'd been issued. The monsters didn't look entirely… natural. Maybe, like many creatures of the world, they were made in a lab. They were men pulled apart, stitched back together with pieces of dog and wolf. Their claws ripped through protective gear and flesh like it was nothing, and they could communicate by wordless sound. It was almost howling, but more guttural and less fluid.

"They all look the same," you said.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, noticed that too. Exactly the same,"

"Exactly? Up close? Even the human parts?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at you. "Yep. Clones. What're you thinkin'?"

"Clones..? Um, I don't know… I just… If I can figure out what they are then I can figure out how to help."

Sam dropped down on the other side of you, his wings damaged. He ripped the pack off his back and began to try to repair them. "If I knew we were gonna be out here fightin' fucking werewolves I would've packed the silverware instead of the vibranium."

"Werewolves?" you asked, pulling a small silk pouch from your bag. "Here. Use this to stick them back together,"

"Stick it back together? Y/N. Can't just glue an EXO back together-"

"It's not glue, Sam. It's bumblebee orchid, oak leaf, protea, and a bunch of other things you don't wanna know about," you explained.

"You really questioning her magic? Use her glue,” Bucky ordered. 

Sam huffed but complied. And abracadabra, your witchy sticky goop held his wings together stronger than they were before.

Bucky and Sam stood up, reloaded and ready to rejoin the fight.

"Wait!" you called, suddenly having a thought. "What if they really are werewolves?"

"What?" Sam said.

"Weirder things have happened, right? Werewolves are real. So maybe…" Your voice trailed off as you tipped the entire contents of your bag onto the forest floor.

"Y/N, we don't have time-"

"Gimme a second. I know I have it here,"

"Have what?" Bucky asked, kneeling down and studying the contents of your bag too.

"Aconitum extract… in a bottle… Here!"

"Aconitum?" Sam asked confused and growing impatient.

"Monkshood. Um, wolfsbane. Bucky, are we too far up for you to get one?"

Bucky took your M22s and assessed. "No. Nah, I can get one,"

"Gimme a bullet."

Sam and Bucky watched you dip the bullet in aconitum while uttering any and every luck enchantment you could think of. Bucky loaded his M249 SAW, steadied himself and fired.

The monster went down.

All three of you held your breath and waited. Through the M22s you watched Steve approach the body, check it.

"It's… dead…" came through the comms.

 …

 It had been two weeks since the army of hybrid werewolf clones, so two weeks since you'd last seen Bucky. It had taken days to kill them all. You had to be flown out to find more aconitum extract. From the lab at the compound you were able to work with Bruce Banner to find better ways of delivering the wolfsbane to the clones. Once you had it, it was all over for those motherfuckers.

When everyone else arrived back at the compound, they were exhausted, covered in the thick ash generated by the massive fires it took to burn all the bodies. Bucky was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open, but he mustered the energy to offer to drive you back home to New York City himself. You just sent him off to shower and bed, taking Tony's offer of a ride with one of his minions.

It had been two weeks, then a dream, a vivid and hazy dream. A white cat brought you orange blossoms, carrying a branch in his mouth. "Do you want me to plant this?" you asked the cat, and you knew he would say yes if it could speak. He watched you tend to the blossom, then he disappeared through an open window. You could feel the cool breeze against your skin, felt your hair move.

When you woke, it didn't surprise you to find Bucky sitting next to your bed, back to it and legs stretched out in front of him. The window was open, letting in an unseasonably warm morning zephyr.

"I just had a dream about you," you whispered, ruffling his hair.

Bucky looked up at you. He seemed sad. "Good dream or bad dream?"

"Good. Always good."

He nodded, trying for a small smile. "The fern… It meant I could come in, right?"

"Glad you got the message," you answered. Out on the sills of all your windows, you left ferns. They meant a lot of things - fascination, magic, enchantment, sincerity, and shelter - and you'd told Bucky they were his plant, back when he and Sam came to offer you a job with The Avengers. At the entry points to your home, they were an open invitation for him, a coded welcome mat.

"Didn't want to wake you," Bucky said.

"I'm awake now. What do you need?"

He thought for a moment. He needed a lot of things, many of which you could definitely provide. "Tea? Thought maybe you could mix some for me to take home. Maybe give to the others,"

"I can do one better than that. I can make everyone their own blend. It will be fun. Come on. I'll teach you how," you said, pulling the blankets away and getting out of bed.

Bucky stood, looking a little alarmed. "You don't have to-"

"I know, Buck. But I want to. Come on."

It took all day, but eventually you had packaged up individual tea blends for everyone. Bucky got a stash of his special sleepy tea, and he already looked more rested with it in his possession. You walked him to the door sometime just before 5:00 pm.

"Thank you," he said, quiet and reflective.

"Easy. You're always welcome here. Sam - not so much. But you - always," you told him, leaning against the frame of your front door.

"Might take you up on that,"

"Please do," you said nodding.

Bucky smiled, went to leave, but turned back like he was going to say something. You stood straight, patient. His brain was ticking, thinking something over. Deciding. Then, he moved. Quickly, he stepped back and pressed a fast but soft kiss to your lips. He was gone, literally nowhere to be seen, before you had time to say or do anything.

 …

 The Hudson River sparkled under the sunset. Bucky watched the colours reflect the scene, like one of Steve's paintings. He was lost in a daydream when Sam nudged him.

"Where you at, man?" he asked.

Bucky looked over at Sam and Steve, who were both eyeing him off suspiciously. They'd carried a couple of couches to the roof. Stolen Clint's beer and set up shop for the night. Pizza was on its way.

"What?" Bucky asked.

"You were thinking about her again, huh?" Steve guessed.

Bucky looked back at the river, ignored his friends. They laughed, returned to their conversation.

Later, when Sam had retired to his room, not able to superhuman heat himself, Steve moved over to lounge next to Bucky. He rested his head on Bucky's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"You really like her, don't you?"

"I think I love her," Bucky replied.

Steve laughed at the speed of the response. "I think you might too. All those girls before, and you never really loved any of them... Guess you stuck around to meet her,"

"Seems that way,"

"You gonna do anything about it?" Steve asked.

"Yeah… It's gotta be good though," Bucky said, only then realising the depth of his feelings.

"Wouldn't wait too long, pal."

 ….

 Bucky took you up on your invitation, coming and going from your place frequently. Sometimes, you'd find fresh croissants left on your kitchen bench. Sometimes, you'd find him asleep on your couch. 

How much he needed from you varied, but how much he was willing to give seemed infinite. You had to proactively stop him from becoming some sort of amazing housekeeper slash meal provider.

After about a month, he settled enough to be able to just exist around you. He'd help you pick the right leaves for the teas you made people. He'd disappear into your bedroom when you had clients over, reading their cards while Bucky listened in like it was a television series. It was easy being around him, and you were ready to be patient for a lot longer, but fuck were you itching for more.

The kissing was sweet, but very often brief. Bucky caught your lips in the moments between your magic and his profound awe. You did what you could to encourage him, but knew the ball was well and truly in his court. So, when he ushered you outside one sunny morning, you didn't really have much expectation.

"I thought you'd never ask," you said, face lighting up when you saw Bucky's bike out the front of your place. New York City was buzzing around you, but as soon as you watched him get on and hand you a helmet, you'd never craved the open road more.

All the other times you'd been to The Avengers compound, you'd traveled by air. It was quick. The ride took longer but it was so much better. Having your arms wrapped around Bucky, the feeling of the bike rumbling under you, it was something new, which was all sorts of remarkable. Being magic sapped a lot of the wonder from the world, ironically. Bucky was bringing it back.

At the compound, Bucky took your hand and lead you around the side, not going in. "I've, ah, got something for you," he said.

"You sound nervous,"

"Yeah. If you could just cast up a little spell to get rid of that, it would be great," he said deadpan.

You laughed while looking around for clues to Bucky's surprise for you.

Rounding a corner, it came into view. A garden. A proper garden, complete with white picket fencing surrounding it. It was like something out of Practical Magic, and all your childhood dreams.

"What is this?"

"It's for you. A place you can grow whatever you need. Or want," Bucky said.

In a state of genuine shock, you let go of Bucky's hand and covered your mouth with yours. You had never seen anything more spectacular.

At the single entrance to the garden was an arch. Ivy and honeysuckle covered it completely, like they'd had a lot of time to grow. You pulled a flower from the arch, reaching up to find a full bloom. "Honeysuckle petals are edible," you said, reaching out to Bucky. He let you feed him the flower. "Sweet, like the perfume. They symbolism devotion, or being 'united in love.' Kinda like the ivy on it. Ivy symbolises attraction."

Bucky smiled wide, his eyes sparkling as he watched you walk further in. "We tried to make sections, you know, for the different plants. Like, this part here has sandy soil for the desert plants," he explained.

"We?"

"Got a lot of help from the others,"

"I'll have to thank them," you said.

There were veggie patches and small fruit trees. Almost half the garden was designated to all the types of plants Bucky had seen you use in potions and teas. Dog rose, blackthorn, rosemary, euphorbia, snowdrop flowers, bells of Ireland, and welcoming wisteria. The raised beds were overflowing with plants, just about ready to bloom in an explosion of colour.

"This… This is incredible,"

"Figured your apartment doesn't really have the space. And you're welcome here anytime,"

"I’ll wanna be here all the time." The garden was what your magical ancestors could have only dreamed of. "I don’t even know what to look at first,"

"Well, maybe that," Bucky said, pointing to a birdbath, where butterflies were hovering over the water. The best part though, was a small sign sticking out the ground next to it that read For Sam.

You laughed. "Oh my god,"

"He was so grumpy about it,"

"Shouldn't have named himself after a bird then," you reasoned.

Bucky nodded, grinning. "And we put that bench opposite so you could sit and watch them."

Your eyes were beginning to tear up, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of love and effort surrounding you. "Buck… I just can't…"

"Oh! And, one more thing. This was Wanda's idea. Come on."

Bucky took your hand and lead you through the garden to the back to where a weeping mulberry tree stood in the corner. He pushed through the soft branches, revealing the manicured underside. A green, little cave under the canopy held secret another wooden bench. Bucky sat down, otherwise he'd have to bend. It was the perfect height for you though, but you sat next to him anyway.

From under the mulberry tree you could see the rest of the garden. All the plants swayed in the warm breeze, and the flowers popped bright and happy.

"How long have you been working on this? Some of those are grown well in,"

"You don't need to know any of that. Takes away the magic, don't it?"

"You mean, a magician doesn't reveal his secrets and all that?" you asked.

Bucky shrugged and nodded, leaning back into the bench a little more and putting an arm around you. Snuggling into his side, you breathed out and just soaked it all in. Your mind was caught between racing with ideas of all the things you could do with the garden and plants, and totally turning to blissful mush.

"I know ya never wanted to work with us, but I'm glad Nat found you. Glad I met you," Bucky said, his voice back to being a little bit shaky, nervous. "You've made my life better, you know? Not just with the, the nightmares, but just… everything. You make everything better…"

You knew he wasn't finished, so you stayed quiet while he gathered his thoughts. In the meantime, you threaded your fingers through his, rubbed your thumb along the back of his hand.

"I used to be so good at this," he said, huffing a little.

It made you giggle. "Used to be good at what?" you asked knowingly, sitting up and looking at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Y/N! I'm tryna' tell you I'm sweet on you and you're gonna give me shit,"

"Yeah, I am. I'm also gonna give you shit about the phrase 'sweet on you' too," you replied, laughing.

Bucky smiled, watching you laugh, just happy you were happy. When you stopped, he sat up and used both hands to fold the hair behind your ears. Holding your face in his hands, he tried to not grin like an idiot. He couldn’t hide the smirk.

"I love you. I'm in love with you," he said, voice finally dead certain.

"Yeah, the garden was a bit of a giveaway," you replied, quickly adding, "And that's good. 'Cause I'm in love with you too. Very completely."

Bucky made the kind of expression you'd pull at a basket of mewing kittens, or a puppy tumbling across fresh cut lawn. It was very, very kissable. So, you did want any self-respecting witch would do. You kissed Bucky Barnes like your life depended on it in the secret mulberry tree cave he had made just for you.

 ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

My taglist (open): @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter​ @fairislesheets​ @vibraniumdaisies​ @cristie24​ 

[hotchley]

“sit down and shut up”

morehotchcontent day five: kisses (counting kisses)

tagged: @ablogofthecriminalmindsvariety @whoreforthebauteam

but most of all, he was proud of the man he loved. he remembered when aaron hotchner had first joined the unit, nervous but bubbly, with hair that fell across his forehead and got in his eyes. they’d both been married then. the job had taken that away from both of them.

which is how they found each other all over again. and now they were happy. dave had his own way of expressing that. to other people, it may have seemed extreme, but dave was Italian. it was what he did. and besides, aaron wasn’t complaining so he had no reason to stop.

in which david rossi just likes kissing aaron hotchner,

it’s still thursday somewhere (it’s 11:12 pm in the uk, but i’m feeling dramatic)

read on ao3! 

David Rossi was a proud man. He was proud of his job, of the people he’d saved and the criminals he had put away. He was proud of how the Behavioural Analysis Unit, which so many people had scoffed at when it was first founded, had flourished. He was proud of the kids in the unit for continuing to brave their jobs and be unapologetically human.

But most of all, he was proud of the man he loved. He remembered when Aaron Hotchner had first joined the unit, nervous but bubbly, with hair that fell across his forehead and got in his eyes. They’d both been married then. The job had taken that away from both of them.

Which is how they found each other all over again. And now they were happy. Dave had his own way of expressing that. To other people, it may have seemed extreme, but Dave was Italian. It was what he did. And besides, Aaron wasn’t complaining so he had no reason to stop.

one

When one of you was a parent, and the other was an ex-marine, you got used to waking up with the sun. But where Dave actually enjoyed mornings, Aaron liked to bury his head in the pillow for as long as was humanly possible.

“Morning sweetness,” Dave said, when Aaron’s eyes fluttered open.

Aaron groaned. “It’s too early for this crap.”

Dave tutted. “Don’t let Jack hear you say that.”

The look Aaron gave him would have bought unsubs to their knees. But Dave was not an unsub. He was Aaron’s partner. And he knew exactly how to make that man smile.

Before Aaron could roll over, Dave extended his hand, giving Aaron plenty of time to understand what he was about to do. When Aaron didn’t tense, Dave gently caressed his cheek before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. Aaron’s eyes closed at the contact, some of the tension he’d been carrying released.

“I’ll make us breakfast,” Dave said.

Aaron smiled, eyes still closed.

two

“I’ll make the coffee,” Aaron offered, entering the kitchen in one of Dave’s old t-shirts and his own jogging bottoms. His hair was still an untamed mess, just the way Dave loved it. It was always lovely at the end of the day to watch as Agent Hotchner became Aaron, but the best part was how he’d take the gel out and allow his hair to become all scruffy again.

“That’d be lovely. But that’s all you’re doing okay? As soon as you’ve done that, go and sit,” he said.

Aaron nodded, and for once in his life, did as he was told.

When Dave bought the plates into the dining room, Aaron was smiling down at his phone. Good. He wasn’t checking his work email.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Jack’s school uploaded some of the pictures from their camping trip. He looks happy,” Hotch said, tilting the phone so Dave could see.

“Good kid,” Dave said. When Aaron tried to take his plate, he tutted.

Aaron rolled his eyes, but stood up nonetheless. Dave kissed his cheek this time, before setting the plate down in front of him, delighting in the slight flush that appeared where he’d kissed him.

three

“We’re going out,” Dave announced, entering Hotch’s office without knocking.

Hotch looked up from his file. “Dave.”

“Aaron.”

“I can’t,” Hotch said. “I have all of this paperwork, and if I stop then it’ll just build even more and then I’ll have to stay later which will impact everything else, so don’t Aaron me. Get one of the others to go with you.”

Rossi knew Hotch wasn’t annoyed at him, he was just agitated by everything he was supposed to be doing. He flicked through a few of the files.

“First of all, these aren’t even yours, they’re the teams. So really, they should be in the bullpen. Second of all, these-” he held up another few “-are technically mine. Third, I can and will Aaron you whenever I want because I don’t want a member of the team to go with me. I want you.”

Aaron sighed, then stood up. Dave smiled and extended his arm. Out of habit, the other man glanced out the window of his office, just to make sure the team were all okay before taking the arm being offered to him as he allowed himself to be escorted out of his office. And hey, if Derek used that moment to grab a few extra files for Reid, well Hotch didn’t have to know.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” Aaron said, twenty minutes later, as they were sat in the park eating ice-cream.

“It wasn’t exactly hard to love you Aaron. You’re a good man. Kind. Passionate. Handsome. I mean, what is there not to like?”

Aaron smiled, that awkward one he got whenever someone complimented him as he turned away slightly. Dave shifted so the space between them was significantly reduced and kissed Hotch’s shoulder, no longer covered by the blazer he’d convinced him to shed for the sake of comfort.

He saw Hotch mouth something to himself, but he couldn’t tell what.

It didn’t matter though. He’d made Aaron get some fresh air and forced him to relax for a few minutes. That was classed as a win in anyone’s book.

four

Dinner in the Hotchner-Rossi household was always interesting. Aaron had never been a particularly gifted cook, but after Haley’s passing, he started making more of an effort because unfortunately, Jack could not survive on chicken nuggets and boxed macaroni.

Dave had been more than willing to aid the Hotchner’s in their cooking journey. Some days he’d helped Aaron cook, other days he’d taught both of them a new recipe. And on some particularly difficult days, he had cooked something simple and light, just to keep them both going.

Now, it was a combined effort. Aaron usually did the preparations, as that was more set in stone. There were only so many ways one could crush garlic and most recipes defined how things were supposed to be cut up. It was regimented. Repetitive. Most of the prep for the dishes they made together was simple. A mind-numbing task that helped him get rid of the stress from the day.

Rossi would do the actually cooking because that was where things would get a bit more abstract. Aaron would often worry too much that it wasn’t going to be completely perfect, or that it wouldn’t be exactly what the recipe said, whereas Dave was much more willing to eyeball it all.

Normally, Dave would just watch as Aaron moved round his kitchen with ease, chopping up vegetables and getting the saucepans out. Hotch didn’t understand why Dave would want to watch him do such basic, boring tasks. Dave said that was the entire reason: he liked seeing Aaron Hotchner being domestic. It made his heart warm.

Today however, he chose to invade his personal space. He uttered a soft greeting as he entered, not wanting to spook him and gently rubbed his shoulders in a lightly massaging gesture.

“Hi,” Aaron whispered.

Dave pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, smiling when Aaron relaxed. Deciding to be a bit more forward, he slowly started kissing the area not covered by his shirt, delighting in the breathless sigh Aaron released as he kissed the area where his shirt collar would not cover it.

“We’re going to end up in the E.R if you keep doing that,” Aaron warned.

Almost immediately, Dave pulled away, smirking when the Aaron Hotchner actually whined.

“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

He sauntered away after that.

five

“It’s quiet without Jack,” Dave said.

Aaron’s grip on his fork tightened minutely.

Dave cringed. “I’m sorry. I forgot how it must have felt then. Not knowing when you were next going to see him.”

Hotch shook his head. “It’s fine. You’re right. It is quiet.”

They had pretty much finished eating. Aaron was missing his son again, so he hadn’t eaten most of what was on his plate. Dave had planned for that, so the meal was more filling than usual. And it would last in the fridge for a few days. Jack was coming home in two days, which meant it would finish and nothing would be wasted.

“Why don’t we rectify that then?” Dave said, holding his hand out.

Aaron frowned.

“Dance with me. Just for five minutes. I promise you’ll feel so much better.”

Aaron let himself be pulled into the living room, not even hesitating to leave Dave lead. The trust he placed in him never failed to amaze him. He just knew that if wishes did come true, his only one would be that Aaron Hotchner never stopped looking at him with that adoration in his eyes.

When the second song came to an end, he placed his own hands over Aaron’s, then bought them to his lips and kissed them, feeling very much like a prince meeting his princess for the first time.

“My liege,” he joked.

Aaron grinned.

six

It was getting late, and so they had decided to head up to bed. Dave was doing a rough plan for his next novel- on pen and paper as that was the only proper way to do the first draft- and Aaron was reading one of those cliché romance novels. Dave thought it was hilarious that he liked to read about country girls falling in love with city boys, but Aaron said he liked to read about nice things, especially since their entire lives revolved around criminals existing.

When Aaron yawned again, Dave decided it was time to admit defeat. Neither of them liked to be the one to admit they were too tired to stay awake- probably because it reminded them that they were both getting older- but Dave was willing to do whatever it took to make Aaron establish healthy sleeping patterns.

Including swallowing his pride.

“I think I’m going to go to sleep now,” he said.

Aaron nodded, bookmarking his page. “That seems like a good idea.”

Dave slid off the bed and switched the light off. The door was closed. The windows were locked with the curtains drawn. When Dave switched the main light off, Aaron flicked the lamp on. He couldn’t sleep in complete darkness. He hadn’t for a while.

Aaron had been terrified that Dave would laugh the first time they slept in the same bed and he’d needed the light on. Obviously, he hadn’t. Instead, he had flicked both lamps on (they were on a case, nothing more needed to be said) and held him through the night.

Now, Aaron didn’t need any encouragement to let Dave cuddle him.

But before sleep could take them, Dave kissed him, once, on the lips.

“Six,” Aaron said, voice already quiet and sleepy.

“What was that?”

“You kissed me six times today. That has to be above the average.”

“What can I say? You’re above the average.”

The last thing Dave heard before he fell asleep was Aaron’s laugh.

[indecisivedolly]

Silent Words - Chapter 5

Word count: 1583

Warnings: minor character death (duh), angst, the fluff is building up y’all

Bucky made his way back to the living room and picked up the envelope. He spaced out thinking about how guilty he felt for snapping at her like that, he could’ve told her how he felt in a much more collected way. She looked so shocked and scared. I’m such an asshole. He suddenly looked at the envelope and an idea shot through his head. He picked up his phone and called a friend for more information on this Jackson Frazier.

After talking to his friend, he found out that Jackson Frazier was operating for HYDRA in Leipzig. He looked at the clock; 11:45 PM. It’s a two-hour drive, I could be back before Y/N even wakes up. With his mind made up, he got dressed in his tactical suit and collected some weapons, including a Smith & Wesson model 39 gun and five bullets that belonged to it. Within thirty minutes, he was in the car on his way to Leipzig. He kept seeing her shocked face in front of him, and every time he saw her scared eyes he grew angrier with himself.

Two hours flew by and he found himself at his destination. He has been here before, making it easier for him to find this Jackson guy he was looking for. Leipzig used to be a major HYDRA hotspot, now the city is nothing but an empty HYDRA shell. If you don’t know where to look, you could say that it’s just an ordinary city.

Fortunately, Bucky knows where to look.

It was almost 2:30 AM and all he could think about was Y/N. How he let her down, how she looks even more beautiful. He always thought the first thing would happen but he never imagined that the latter could be possible.

Before he realized it, he found himself in front of the HYDRA meeting place. He looked different than how they remember him, which would give him a little bit more time before the regulars would jump his ass. His eyes roamed around the place to find the man he was looking for.

Before he could walk up to him, he was stopped by a large man. The man eyed Bucky up and down, before stopping at his metal arm. The man frowned. Bucky looked up so that the man could see his face. When realizing that he was standing face to face with the Winter Soldier, the man widened his eyes.

“Der Soldat ist hier! Der Soldat ist hier!” (The soldier is here!) When hearing this, everyone shot up from their seats. Some of them pulled out their guns, some of them grabbed their beer bottles as weapons. Bucky sighed. Man, I really wanted to get this done quickly. The men started attacking Bucky and he took them out one by one as if it was like folding laundry, he hated folding laundry. He didn’t want to leave too many bodies so he just knocked them out.

After knocking out the “innocent” people, he saw Jackson run out of the bar through the back door and he calmly followed him. The man shot all of his bullets at Bucky, but he dodged the bullets easily. Bucky started to grow tired of this stupid game and took a sharp left while Jackson kept running straight forward.

After running for what felt like an eternity, Jackson stopped running to see that the Winter Soldier wasn’t following him anymore. He was gasping for air, thankful that he shook him off. His upper body was bent forwards and he put his hands on his knees, exhausted and still in shock from what happened. The next thing he knows, he’s being pulled into an alley. His shoulder roughly hit the ground. He opened his eyes to see him again.

“You weren’t so stupid to think that you threw me off, were you?” The Winter Soldier said amusingly.

“Wh-what do you want from m-me? Money? I-I can give you money.” A desperate attempt to save himself and he knew it. The soldier started laughing loudly.

“Money? I think it’s a bit too late to use money as a tool to save yourself. But I did hear you owed someone a lot of money.” He said the latter in a singsong voice.

“Who? I-I swear I’ll pay them double the amount I owe them.” The man stammered.

Bucky smiled and crouched to reach the man’s face. “Don’t worry, the man you owe money to is dead.” He saw the man relax a bit. “But unfortunately, now you will be too. Tell Nour Roux his daughter said hi.” Bucky stood back up on his feet.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Five times thirty-nine. 

He got into the car and looked at the time. 3 AM. Good, he thought. He drove home and quietly entered the house. When he got to his bedroom, he realized he was exhausted. He took off his clothes, leaving him only in his boxers, and fell onto his bed. A soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes, Bucky was stuck in a pitch-black maze, having only her blood-curdling screams to guide him to her.

“Please don’t do this.” She cried.

He started running faster to where her hoarse voice came from.

“Oh god, pl-please please please.” He heard her recite like a prayer. She started screaming once again.

I’m almost there papillon, please hang on.

There she was, lying in the middle of this godforsaken maze. He didn’t see her chest move. Slowly, he got closer, and what he saw made his legs give in. He fell on his knees, still not processing what he saw. There she lay, as angelic as always. With a bruise circling her neck and her necklaces pulled tight around it. The butterflies lay on her neck as if they were her familiars who failed to save her. He looked at the butterflies. 

He was always enchanted by those necklaces as if they took him back to a past life. 

He was too late. If he had come for her sooner, she would’ve been safe. She would’ve been his. But now, she’s no more than a free spirit.

Then, he shot up. He heard someone screaming, shortly afterward realizing that it was him. Then, he felt a pair of smaller arms tightly around him. One around his shoulders and one on his hair. He smells a familiar scent and hears a familiar voice. He feels her fingers scratching his scalp and her breath on the side of his face. He closed his eyes and tried to stabilize his breathing. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re James Buchanan Barnes, born in 1917 in Brooklyn. You’re currently in the safehouse in Berlin with me, Y/N Roux.”

Y/N.

He exhales the air he didn’t know he was holding. If he wasn’t in his current state, he would’ve found it adorable that she still remembered how to calm him down. Just like she did in Bucharest. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t another one of his HYDRA dreams, that his dream was about losing her. Then, he let himself go into her embrace. 

She was safe. She was safe.

He woke up to an empty bed, still remembering her arms around his body as he fell asleep. Was it a dream? He thought. No, I could never be granted such peaceful dreams. He got up out of bed and took a quick shower. When he left the bathroom, he took in the scent of freshly ground coffee and cooked bacon. He entered the kitchen to find her standing with her back to him, placing the cooked eggs on each plate. He quietly sat down at the kitchen table and stared at her, the sheer domesticity of it all kicking into him just now. 

If only I came back for her as soon as I could instead of being a coward. 

Then her body went rigid, feeling his presence just now. “Do you really have to be this stealthy around me?” She said, her back still turned towards him. 

“No, this was just payback for that scare in my house.” He replied amusingly. Y/N picked up the cups of coffee and placed them on the table. Then she grabbed the plates and put them next to the cups, sitting next to Bucky. They started eating quietly. Y/N hesitantly started talking. 

“I found myself frequently wondering if you survived the snap or not.” She said softly. “Even if you did survive, I understood that you couldn’t have come for me.” 

Another pause. “You know, saving the world and all.” Unable to look at him. She was fumbling with her necklaces.

 “Going soft on me, doll?” He said in a teasing tone. Sensing mock and malice in his voice, her head shot towards him; “Don’t get too used-“. 

His eyes. Normally filled with nothing, now filled with soft tenderness.

The kind that you would find in your lover’s eyes after opening yours and finding them admiring you after making love all night.

She forgot what she was saying but quickly regained her posture, clearing her throat and finishing her breakfast with her gaze glued to her plate. 

He noticed, he always noticed.

He smiled, keeping his eyes on her a little bit longer before continuing eating breakfast, thankful for being able to spend some time with her now.

If it was up to him, moments like this could last forever. 

Taglist (if you wanna be included, send me a message!):

@saiyanprincessswanie @disasterbii @zaynzierulez @kingbuckyx

[skzsauce01]

In Fair Verona︱Chapter 8

Synopsis: Jisung knows he is the Romeo to your Juliet. He could wax poetry about you all throughout rehearsal and even a little after. Except Hwang Hyunjin is the one playing Romeo in the school play, not him. Jisung is just another tech crew member that you don’t know, but he’s determined to win your heart... by any means necessary.

Warning: violent imagery

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x Jisung; fem!reader x Hyunjin

Prepare to be baited. Apologies in advance.

updates every Wednesday and Sunday @ 11 PM PST︱chapter list

A plague o’ both your houses! I am sped.

The weather matches his mood — cold, gray, sad. The rain suddenly came in between third and fourth period, and the hallways are still covered in watery footprints. People linger around after school, waiting for their rides or asking for them. He notices a few boys loaning their girlfriends their sweaters, and he desperately wishes he was one of them. Instead, he takes his textbook out from his locker and heads to the auditorium for rehearsal.

He drops off his belongings in the classroom, which is packed wall to wall. He has to nudge several people out of the way when his “Excuse me’s” aren’t heard. He doesn’t see you anywhere and assumes you’ve escaped to the dressing room, where it is sure to be less crowded. Hyunjin isn't around though, so maybe you’re with him.

He hopes not.

When rehearsal begins, you wait on stage right as usual. Your hair is damp, and you have Hyunjin’s jacket draped around your shoulders to prevent your costume from getting wet. You stand next to Hyunjin and talk about something excitedly. Jisung doesn’t let the soft looks from Hyunjin escape his notice. When you’re finally alone, he goes over to you.

“Didn’t you say you would give his sweater back?” he says, far more accusing than teasing. You jump a bit at his sharp tone, and he apologizes. “Sorry. Didn’t mean it like that.”

“Hey,” you cautiously greet. “Rough day?”

He nods. “The rain ruined my mood. Sunny days are much better.”

“I like the rain. I think it’s nice.” You absentmindedly ran your fingers across the drawstring of the hood, and he knows it’s not the weather that you only like.

“So, the sweater?”

The look of guilt is clear on your face. “I wore it to school, and then it started raining, so I decided to keep it for a little longer.”

Would you do the same if Jisung were the one to let you borrow his? He thinks he already knows the answer, but he pulls off his hoodie and holds out to you anyway.

“You can have mine.”

With no hesitation, you reply, “I couldn’t, but thank you for the offer.”

“Why not?” He wants to hear you say it. He prods you again. “Why not? Is there something wrong with mine? What’s wrong with mine?”

“Nothing!” you indignantly say. You look away and start fiddling with your earring. “I just—”

A red hot rage floods his system, and he thrusts his hoodie forward. “Then give Hyunjin’s sweater back and take mine!” he hisses.

You flinch and take a step back. “I wouldn’t be comfortable borrowing yours. I don’t know you well enough to feel okay with it.” The last part comes out in a whisper.

“No, I get it.” He forcibly tugs it over his head and runs a hand through his mussed up hair. “I get it. I get what you mean,” he repeats more calmly, though it’s more to convince himself than you.

You don’t look like you buy his act, but you slowly nod anyway. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“No no,” he shakily laughs. He pastes on a bright smile so wide that he’s afraid his face might crack. “I’m not hurt at all.”

You try to give him a smile back, but it wavers before disappearing altogether. “I gotta talk to Yuna,” you point to the girl playing Nurse. “Bye.”

Jisung goes over to Changbin, who looks like he’s having the time of his life working on math problems. “Hey, Changbin.”

“Hm?” he mumbles, not looking up.

“I’m gonna go to the restroom after the next blackout.”

“Okay.”

Until then, Jisung is stuck. You chat with Yuna, but even he can tell that you’re not into it. Your eyes occasionally wander to the general area where Jisung is. It’s not the shy, sneaking peeks he wishes they are though; they’re more like concerning, “he’s not going to hurt me, right?” glances. He wants to apologize, but what does he apologize for? For scaring you? For being rude? For falling in love with you when you don’t care? All of the above?

He finds himself walking back to you. He robotically taps your shoulder while you’re in the middle of a sentence, and you jump.

“Can we talk?” he says.

You look at Yuna, who retreats a short distance away. You face Jisung and stand directly in front of him. Your voice trembles when you say, “I have to be on stage soon. What did you want to talk about?”

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he blurts out. “I didn’t mean any of that. That wasn’t me back there, and I didn’t mean—”

The lights go out, and Jisung loudly swears as he remembers that he has to help set up. He rushes on stage with Changbin and haphazardly aligns the set pieces. Then he makes his way back to finish his apology. To his misfortune, Hyunjin beat him to you and is asking about his performance in the earlier scene.

“Y/N,” Jisung calls. When you’re looking back at him with a deer-in-the-headlights expression, he continues with, “I’m sorry, and I didn’t mean to hurt you with any of that.”

You tightly reply, “It’s fine,” and end it there. Jisung opens his mouth to protest, but you clearly don’t want to continue the short lived chat.

In a more relaxed tone, you say to Hyunjin, “See you at dinner?” You shrug off his jacket and hand it to him. Jisung doesn’t miss the way his fingers “accidentally” brush against yours. Without waiting for an answer, you stride onto stage, your still damp hair hanging down your back.

Hyunjin has a dopey grin on his face, and he clutches his own sweater like he’s holding the only life preserver on a sinking boat. Jisung wants to smack him until he sees stars, but he heads to the restroom like he told Changbin he would.

There’s someone inside, and Jisung has to wash his hands until they’re scrubbed raw before the person leaves. Once he hears the door swing shut and Jisung’s certain he’s far away, he lets loose a scream worthy of a horror film. It echoes against the tiled floors and walls, and he unleashes a string of curses after. His throat feels like it’s been cut with knives, and he pants as he rests his palms against the edge of the sink.

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

This is all your fault.

She’s supposed to be mine.

I hope you get run over by a semi truck.

I hope the lights fall from the batons and land on your head.

I hope your heart stops.

I hope you die.

Jisung stays in the restroom for a while longer to pull himself together. He waits until his breathing returns to a more normal rate and until he stops trembling. He wants to shatter the mirror into a million pieces, so he clasps his hands together. In another lifetime, it would have been your hand in his.

But Hwang Hyunjin had to exist in this one.

He heads back to the auditorium, taking careful steps in front of him. He doesn’t want to be around anyone, so he tucks himself into the corner of the stage next to the fly rail. The person manning the fly rail looks surprised at the sudden intrusion, but Jisung ignores it. At least he can’t see the front of the stage where the actors are anymore.

When dinner rolls around, Jisung is unfortunately forced to eat inside the classroom since he has no more money for convenience store food. You and Hyunjin share a table together with two other actors, while Jisung sits with Seungmin, who also brought his own dinner. Seungmin makes small talk, and Jisung gives one word replies. He’s too busy trying to eavesdrop on your conversation and watching you from the corner of his eye. Your back faces him, so he can only see the movement of your head. He bitterly notes that you’re wearing Hyunjin’s jacket now and that you’re laughing at his lame attempts at jokes.

“You’re not hungry yet?” Seungmin asks as he gestures to Jisung’s untouched but fully cooked ramen.

Jisung glances down and picks up his disposable chopsticks. “Oh, I forgot.”

“You okay? Changbin mentioned that you were kind of out of it today.”

“It’s the rain. I hate rain.” He eats a mouthful of noodles and angrily chews on it. “It is awful, and it makes everything wet and gloomy, and it always makes me freaking mad for no reason. Screw. The. Rain.”

Seungmin laughs at what he thinks is Jisung being overdramatic. “Alright, I got it. The rain is evil, and you hate it.”

“Exactly.”

You gasp at something on your phone and excitedly tap on Hyunjin’s arm. A splotch of pink blooms on Hyunjin’s face, and he looks at your screen. He congratulates you for getting an A on your exam and offers to take you out to FroYoZen to celebrate.

“It’s too cold for that, “ you goodnaturedly say. You tilt your head in his direction and look up at him. “Maybe when the weather clears up.”

Jisung grips his wooden utensils and continually shovels ramen into his mouth. Would it be odd if he suddenly snapped his chopsticks in half? How can you betray him twice by getting yogurt with Hyunjin? The first time he can forgive since that was a task for the play, but frozen yogurt is supposed to be his thing with you.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin looks pleased with his situation, and your conversation switches to a debate about frozen yogurt versus ice cream. Jisung almost chokes on his meal when he learns that you and Hyunjin shared your yogurts together last time.

“Jisung? You okay?”

Jisung’s cheeks are stuffed like a squirrel’s, and he’s breathing hard. He’s finally aware of how absurd he looks and the concern on Seungmin’s face. He chews and chews until he’s able to swallow.

“I thought you were choking,” Seungmin sighs in relief. “Thank goodness you’re okay.”

Is he really though?

The rest of rehearsal is hazy, and Jisung can only remember the stabbing in his heart when you and Hyunjin stage kiss. He can’t see it since he’s tucked in his little corner, but he knows the lines leading up to both kisses like the back of his hand. It hurts, and the invisible knife cuts deeper and deeper.

During tech notes, Jisung gets lightly chastised for taking bathroom breaks so often during performances, but everyone overall seems pleased with his efforts. There’s a reminder from the tech director that the preview for the play is tomorrow after school and to wear all black.

“When do we get our shirts?” Felix asks.

Ah, yes. The cast and crew shirt that Jisung paid for because he had no real choice and because he wanted to share one article of clothing with you. If he’s lucky, you and him will wear the shirts on the same day, and it will almost be like a couple’s matching outfit.

“They should be here by tomorrow, but come in all black anyway.”

“Do we get a refund if they don’t come in time?” the freshman jokingly says.

There’s a bit of a laugh from Mr. Gi. Then he deadpans, “No.”

After they repaint and respike the stage floor, the tech crew is dismissed for the night, and Jisung goes to the green room for his belongings. You’re still receiving extra notes from the director, so he mills around outside, waiting for you to come out. He wants to apologize again for his outburst earlier since he knows you didn’t truly accept his previous apology. He needs you to know that he still loves you.

As actors start filing out, Jisung pretends to be immensely interested in the tech crew lists for all the upcoming shows. You come out of the classroom with your books clutched to your chest and Hyunjin on your heels. Jisung mouths a curse.

“Hey, Y/N?” he says.

You stop, and your shoulders are beginning to rise. You can’t even look at him; your eyes are directed at the yellow wall behind him. The deer-in-the-headlights expression is back, and Hyunjin takes notice.

“Sorry, we gotta go,” he cuts in. He wraps a protective arm around you, and while you initially jump at the gesture, you eventually sink into him.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he snaps. “I just need one minute with Y/N.” To you, he pleads, “Please.”

“I have to go, Jisung. Maybe tomorrow,” you quietly answer.

Hyunjin leads you away, shooting him a warning glare. Jisung glowers back, but Hyunjin’s not looking anymore since he’s whispering something to you. You shake your head, and Jisung can make out the words, “Everything’s fine.” The door to the parking lot shuts with a heavy thud, and Jisung stops wishing death upon Hyunjin to run out to follow you.

It’s raining hard, and he can just make out your silhouettes from the car headlight beams. He pulls his hood over his head and strides toward the two of you. Hyunjin poorly shields you from the rain with his jacket while you duck under the trees to avoid getting your books wet. To Jisung’s astonishment, you don’t leave Hyunjin’s side at all. He freezes in his tracks as he sees you getting into the passenger seat of a car he doesn’t recognize. Hyunjin walks around and gets into the driver’s seat.

What. On. Earth.

The car pulls out of the parking lot, and Jisung is left standing in the middle of the drop off zone. A car honks at him, and he loudly swears at them, earning looks from the group of people nearby. He shouts at them to mind their own business before stomping to his car. As he drives home, there’s a clap of thunder, and a flash of lightning follows soon after.

The weather matches his mood — cold, gray, stormy.

~ ad.gray

A/N: Happy birthday to Han and Felix! 

[gh0stiegirlie]

Shitty Cooking — Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Synopsis: You’re terribly shit at cooking; So bad, that you’re banned from cooking at U.A. all together. And when Bakugou sees your pathetic attempt to cook ramen one night, he can’t help but intervene.

Length: 4.8k words

A/n: Oop-- I’m aware I’m working on a series rn, but this idea popped in my head and was too cute not to write!

You know you’re not a great cook, but you weren’t aware you were ‘fill the dorms with smoke and set off all the fire alarms un U.A.’ type bad until hundreds of kids were soaring down the halls (some recklessly using their the quirks to literally soar through the air) towards an exit. 

“Oh shit,” you whisper, struck with total astonishment of the chaos surrounding you; and fearing the consequences for instigating it. “I’m fucked.”

“Y/n, what are you doing? Come here!” Iida calls from behind you. He clears his throat before bellowing, “Everyone from Class 1-A, this is your class rep. Come line up in an orderly fashion to exit the building!” With a groan you jog over to Iida, some boys sluggishly falling in line behind you.

Before Iida guides your class down the stairs, the fire alarms cut off.

“Huh. Must’ve been a false alarm.” Kirishima says.

“I feel bad for whatever sorry bastard pulled that alarm.” Katsuki Bakugou grumbles from behind you. 

“Yeah! Aizawa is probably going to expel them!” Kirishima agrees. You pull at the neck of your uniform, suddenly feeling feverish. Mr. Aizawa wouldn’t expel you for something this stupidly accidental… Right?

“You know, I hope he does! I’m pissed off too! I was in the middle of charging up my--” Kaminari is cut off my Kirishima elbowing him in the stomach.

“No one wants to know, bro. Trust me.” 

“Alright, class 1-A,” Aizawa announces as he enters the room. He’s dressed in his usual all-black attire, but the purple bags under his eyes and disheveled hair implies he’s more exhausted than usual. “Since-- for some reason --this class is involved in everything bad that happens to this school, I assume it was one of you that pulled that false alarm, either as a mindless prank or on accident. Either way, it woke me up from my nap.” With hands folded neatly behind his back, he patiently paces in front of you and your lined up classmates. In his black, formless drapes, he looks like a demon hovering around the room, waiting to select the poor soul he’ll drag down to hell. Or in this case, the principal’s office. “Tell me who pulled the alarm or you will all be expelled.”

The class erupts in a chorus of whines, but you remain silent.

“Well, who was near a fire alarm?” Tsuyu asks, tapping her chin with her forefinger.

“Bakugou and I were playing video games together!” Kirishima announces, wrapping an arm proudly around his friend.

 “Get. Off. of me.” Bakugou snarls.

“Uhh-O-Oh! It could’ve been me! The weights in the gym are close to the fire alarm… I could’ve accidentally pulled it!” Deku confesses, having an unfortunate tendency to blame himself for everything. Uraraka gently places a hand on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t you,” she assures him. 

“The smoke was spilling from this area. Was someone in the kitchen?” Aizawa deadpans, strolling over to the students to briefly analyze them. When he walks past you, you stiffen. You wince at your foolishness and dart your eyes to the ground, hoping he didn’t notice. He stops to face you. “Where were you, Y/n?”

Shit.

“Huh. Now that I think about it, I did see Y/n in the kitchen when the fire alarms went off!” Iida boldly states. He gasps and points a finger at you. “Y/n, it was you!

Bitch!

 Aizawa sighs, turning towards the dorm exit. “Y/n, you’re banned from using the kitchen. Forever. To ensure you don’t wake me from a nap again.”

You bury your face in your hands to hide your embarrassment, but that doesn’t stop the class from laughing at your expense.

“Heyyy, don’t look so down! I can cook for you for now on!” Mina exclaims, excitedly shaking your arm.

You pry away her grip from your arm. “I’d prefer to survive on vending machine snacks,” you insist before storming off to your dorm.

It’s late at night when your stomach begins to growl. You stroll over to your snack cabinet, only to gasp in horror when it’s empty. Your stomach begs for food. 

You know what you have to do.

At 11 pm, you stick your head out of your door. All the lights in the hall are off, though the full moon illuminates the hallway by shining through the windows. The only sound on the entire floor is the faint squeaks the ground emits as you tiptoe to the commons. 

Normally, the common area is alive with students of all ages dining and socializing. The room now lays completely still, and witnessing its desolation in the dead of night is eerie. But more importantly, the kitchen appears undisturbed.  

You strategically plan your path to the kitchen, knowing the area between the commons and kitchen holds the creakiest floorboards in the dorms. After planning your route you advance, only hopping on one floorboard that cries out. 

You pump your fists when you make it to the cabinets, satisfied with your success.

You grab a pot and place it under the sink, keeping the water dripping at its lowest setting slowly until its full, not wanting to risk waking anyone. Then, you grab two eggs and carefully drop them into the water. As soon as you turn on the stove to boil the eggs, the liquid begins to bubble and pop, shooting scaling droplets in your direction. Immediately following this, smoke rises from the pot. 

“Not again! How does this keep happening?!” you whisper cry, covering your eyes with your hands and shaking your head vehemently. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” You peek through your fingers at the flames and try to think about how you can solve this. 

But apparently, you don’t have too. Someone pushes you out of the way and turns off the stove, before swiftly dumping the contents of the pot into the sink. And just like that, the fire is out. And you’re saved.

When the smoke clears and you turn to thank the prince who rescued you, your eyes widen. 

 Fuck.

Katsuki Bakugou’s blood-red eyes dig into your heart like two sharp knives. He holds his hands in a defensive stance, preparing to shoot explosions at you. For being your ‘prince’, he’s acting more like an angry troll.

It’s been two weeks. There’s no way he’ll remember you’re banned from cooking, right?

“What the hell where you doing!” he whisper yells. “Aren’t you the bastard whos banned from cooking because you almost burnt down the damn school?”

“Uhh…” 

You try to think of something clever. 

“No…?”

Bakugou leans against the sink and folds his arms. The same eyes that once glared daggers into you now look your body up and down. You suddenly feel embarrassed for only wearing a long t-shirt with tight mini shorts. You tug at your shirt self-consciously. 

“You’re more of an idiot than I thought, huh?” he scoffs, digging around the cabinets for another pot. “What were you trying to make.” He doesn’t model it as a question, instead poses it as an annoyed statement. Like he is now in debt to assist you, even though he’s the one who saved you.

You don’t reply, finding yourself at a loss for words. Bakugou points the new pot at you accusingly. “Well?” he snaps.

“Well-- I, uh--” you start, swallowing hard before continuing, “I was trying to make spicy ramen with soft boiled eggs.” You explain while fiddling with your fingers. You don’t know why, but you find it difficult to make eye contact with the boy while he’s wearing a fitted tank. His biceps bulge out of the tight top, exhibiting the strength that’s normally kept hidden under a loose uniform top. You desire to devour him over any ramen. But this is Katuski fucking Bakugou, so you try desperately to keep your eyes at bay by distracting them with your twiddling hands. 

Bakugou laughs. You know he’s merely humored by how pathetic you are, and is probably thinking about how much better he is than you simply because he can cook(any win is a win for Bakugou), but it sends butterflies fluttering around your stomach none the less. 

“I’ve been able to make that since compulsory school. You’re just a dumbass.” he brags, grabbing two more eggs and throwing them into the flooded pot. You ignore his attitude to instead focus on the dripping container.

“Hey, isn’t that a bit too much--”

“Do you want my help or not?” he growls, and you decide not to question is methods. He switches on the stove. “What’s the recipe?”

You hand him your phone. As he scans the recipe, you can’t help but study the way his lips move around the words he mumbles to himself. Every action he makes is always so big, and brash and aggressive, that watching his lips calmly form breathless words is alluring.

“...scallions, togarashi, and nori.” he finishes, before setting your phone down on the counter and turning towards you. You switch your attention from his rosy lips to his vermillion eyes. “Now, I can trust you to grab the ginger, miso, and sambal oelek, right?” he teases. “I would ask you to grab the soy sauce and vinegar, but I’m not sure if you can tell the two apart.” he continues taunting you, but as embarrassed as you are, you enjoy this friendly banter. “I don’t know if you even know what sesame oil is.” 

You roll your eyes and mumble “I do know the difference…”, but leave out the fact that you really don’t know what sesame oil is. 

You push yourself onto the tips of your toes to reach for the cabinet, leaning your core against the counter for extra support. As you stretch to reach your ingredients, your oversized t-shirt hitches up your thighs and exposes the tight athletic shorts underneath. Bakugou doesn’t let the sight distract him from collecting the oils, but takes a brief moment to appreciate it.

Once you’ve snatched the ingredients off the shelves, you proudly display them to Bakugou. His approving grunt leaves you feeling accomplished.

“Now go over there,” he juts his chin out near the pot, “I’ll start cutting the scallions, onions, and nori while you sauce the pan.”

You grab the pan and head over a separate portion of the counter to sauce it, avoiding the stove at all costs. After a few minutes you look over at Bakugou, who is vehemently slicing through vegetables in a way that impresses you as much as it terrifies you. You make sure to note Bakugou is frighteningly excellent with a kitchen knife, and to avoid pissing him off whenever he’s in the kitchen. 

Bakugou gestures for you to accompany him at the stove, to which you obey without thought. The warmth of his body involuntarily draws you to him. You’re like a moth to a flame.

Bakugou takes the pot with the boiled eggs off the stove so you can replace it with the sauced pan. His bicep rubs against your shoulder as he pours the sliced veggies into the pan, heating your whole arm. You want to feel his heat in your hand, on your thighs, on your lips--

Bakugou distracts you from your thoughts once he pulls away. “I’ll boil the noodles and cut the eggs. Grab the sauces.” 

You nod and rotate back to the cabinets, where once again you strain yourself to reach the condiments on the high shelf, your shirt hikes up your ass, and Bakugou briefly (though for a bit longer this time) enjoys the view. 

By the time you’re done grabbing the herbs, Bakugou has completed his task. He debates asking you to grab the bowls, yearning to see your ass in those tight shorts one last time, but decides he’s objectified you enough for one night and grabs them himself. 

“The recipe says to wait ten minutes,” he informs you, leaning against the countertop. You hop up on the kitchen island and begin to swing your legs. Bakugou’s eyes nonchalantly eat up the sight of your bare thighs, storing the way they look for later. 

Bakugou crosses his arms and clicks his tongue before asking, “How are you so bad at cooking?” he furrows his brows with a huff. “I know you’re not a complete idiot-- you placed one below me on the final. So how are you so stupid?”

You shrug. “I dunno. I’ve never really been interested in cooking.” You bashfully pull your eyes away from his to gaze up at the ceiling. (even though you can’t see anything). “There are so many more interesting things I can do than learn how to cook.”

“So you’re going to be a pro-hero who can kick villain ass, but lose a fight to a damn hard-boiled egg? That’s pathetic!” 

A hysterical laugh escapes your lips, and you quickly slap your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. Your other hand tightly grips the edge of the table as you rock back and forth. 

Hell yeah, he got you to laugh. The corners of Bakugous mouth twitch into a smile, to which he immediately curves into a smirk. But he can’t hide the faint blush on his cheeks.

“Shut up, dumbass. People are sleeping,” he moves closer to you so he can playfully hit your frantically kicking legs. This time, he can’t help it when his smirk turns into a smile.

“I’m---Sorry---” you spit out between chuckles, “It’s just--- so true.”

After a few more minutes of increasingly angry shushes from Bakugou, you calm down.

“Wow Bakugou, I didn’t know you were funny,” you tease.

“What do you mean?! I’m hilarious!” he fumes, making you break out into laughter again.

“Now you’re the one who needs to chill.” You playfully shove his arm. But your hand lingers on his toned bicep a little too long, leaving a dusty blush on your cheeks when you pull away. “Honestly, you are funny. Just your anger kinda intimidates people to the point they’re too scared to laugh.” 

Bakugou tries to hide how tense he is by puffing out his chest under his crossed arms while bellowing “Good! They should be scared!” He’s always himself around extra’s because he doesn’t care what they think. He just wants them to recognize he’s better than them, and they all do. But you’re… Not like the other extra’s. When others look at him, waves of heat wash over his body, which eventually turns into red hot anger. But every time your doe eyes meet his, his face grows hot and he feels far from angry. He doesn’t want to yell at you, he wants to have a genuine conversation. Then when he initiates, he starts overthinking everything he says and does. Did he say something dumb? Did he hurt your feelings? Did he look good? Maybe he should’ve brushed his hair today-- 

You brush a stray hair behind your ear, fluttering your eyelashes at the boy. Your e/c eyes twinkle under the moonlight in a way that makes Bakugou stomach do backflips. He could give less of a damn bout the ramen. Because right now, he’s hungry for you.

As if destined to ruin the only emotional connection Bakugou has ever felt, the timer dings. 

Bakugou grabs a set of tongs and puts two servings of noodles into his bowl, and gives you one.

“How come I get less?” you sulk as he pours the sauce/veggie mixture on top of your noodles. 

“Because you weren’t the one working out for five hours!” he snaps out his emotionally authentic state to explain this in his infamously aggressive tone. Emotions are for simps desperate to get their dick wet, and he’s a fucking badass with ambition. He doesn’t have time for that shit. He sprinkles togarashi on the noodles for a final spicy touch. “I was actually doing shit while you and all the other sissies were in bed.”

You watch him walk away in disappointment. You had grown hopeful there was a spark between you two. That maybe he’d made you dinner because he finally developed genuine feelings for another person, or at least because found you interesting. But now, he’s walking away to eat in the solitude of his room. You guess you shouldn’t have expected him to fall in love with you after one brief conversation.

You hang your head as you grab your bowl, and then lumber behind Bakugou on his way to the dorms.

Except, Bakugou takes an unexpected turn toward the communal dining hall. And you giddily follow.

You practically skip to the seat across from Bakugou, though quickly hide your glee when he looks up at you. The lack of utter resentment in his eyes warms your heart. 

The first bite of your meal is euphoric. It’s so good that while you’re eating, your stomach growls for more.

“Bakugou, this is like, amazing!” you scarf down noodles in between words. “How did I not know you were a great cook?!”

“Eat slower dumbass or you’ll choke!” Bakugou chides, before clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth to make a “tch” sound. “You should’ve expected it. I’m pretty good at most things.” he concentrates on his noodles when he quickly adds “But uh… Thanks, I guess.” 

During the past half hour, you and Bakugou have interacted more than you could have conceived in your worst nightmares, yet he’s treated you amiably. Of course, there were the occasional digs thrown at your asinine cooking skills, but he was never truly hostile. Bakugou never keeps his thoughts hidden from everyone; It’s known he’s always straightforward, even when it’s not appropriate. But, this is different from his brutal honesty. He’s allowing you to pass through the barricade of hostile flames, those same flames that shrivel up and spit out anyone else who even tries to so much as walk by him, and entering the area where his fire kindles. He’s letting you peek through the cracks of his ruthless facade so you can see that he’s human, not a walking bomb. 

While normally he parades his gifts, he’s humbly made dinner for you without the expectation that you suffocate him with compliments. He always holds his head with pride, yet brought himself down to earth so he could thank you.

You smile coyly into your ramen. “Hey, how come you decided to help me?”

“I was hungry.” Bakugou deadpans, but his rosy cheeks tell another story. He drops his chopsticks to look at you, a taunting glint in his eyes. “Plus, you were close to burning down the entire school. Again.”

You roll your eyes. “Just wait! Next time I try to cook, I’ll do fine!”

“If you ever feel like cooking again-- Don’t. You’re shit.” Bakugou swallows a few noodles and digs his chopsticks in the bowl, searching for another. Though really, he’s just using his delicious food as an excuse to not meet your eyes. “Just ask me. Because next time you step into a kitchen, you’ll be lucky to make it out alive.” 

“Maybe you should just teach me how to cook!” you giggle into your chopsticks. 

“Maybe,” Bakugou echoes, but he doesn’t mind cooking for you again. He wants to.  

“You should show me some of your recipes!” you poke Bakugou’s cheek with one of your chopsticks, and he snarls.

“Only to watch you fuck it up?” he laughs. “Yeah, right. I’ll do the cooking for now,” he concludes before the two of you fall into a comfortable silence.

You never thought you would ever feel tranquil next to Bakugou, but his presence in this room feels like holding a torch in the night. His mere demeanor makes you feel safe. You feel protected. 

You’ve watched Bakugou fight before and he’s an absolute maniac. But you want him to be a maniac for you. You want to watch him fight for you. You want to continue these midnight escapades. You want him to cook for you every night after he gets back from the gym. 

You want Bakugou. You need him.

Fuck. 

You have a crush on Katsuki Bakugou. 

“Hey, let me wash your bowl for you.” you offer when you both finish. “Cmon, it’s the least I can do.” Reluctantly, Bakugou hands you his dish. “I won’t let you down, chef.” You assure him with a wink. 

Your wink completely throws Bakugou off. He watches your ass bounce as you strut away in shock. Only once you reach the sink does he finally have enough control over his blush (and boner) to approach you. 

“See! I can do something!” you gesture at the spotless bowls. 

“Yeah. It’s something.” Bakugou smirks. “Something any dumbass can figure out how to do.”

You gently jab his side with your elbow. “Cmon, give me a little credit!

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Fine. It’s impressive... For a dumbass.” 

You ignore the demeaning nickname. “Thank you!” you beam.

When you don’t receive an answer, you become nervous that you were too boring for him, and he’s lost interest in you. When you look at him, he’s rubbing his eyes to keep them from locking shut. That’s when your own exhaustion hits you, and your eyelids begin to droop. A yawn escapes your lips and echoes throughout the kitchen. 

“Is it past your bedtime?” he snickers, even though he’s visibly more exhausted than you.

“Shut up.” you yawn again. “Y’know, every time our class does something fun, you’re always the first one asleep. You’re like a baby.” You roll your shoulders before stretching your arms. “It’s lame.” 

Bakugou scratches his head mindlessly. “I have more important things to do than hang out with you extra’s” he retorts.

“Yeah, like sleeping? How exciting.”

“Sleeping is more fun than hanging out with lame-ass extra’s.” 

You push out your bottom lip and cross your arms. “Hey! I’m not boring.” You pout.

Bakugou laughs. He actually laughs. His vermillion eyes twinkle and his tight-lipped smirk expands into two full rows of teeth. His broad shoulders bob and when he shakes his head, his blond mane bounces. An animated smile spreads across your face, so wide it exposes your fine lines and under-eye creases. But you can’t help it. You want to be the person that tames Bakuogou to the point he feels comfortable laughing. You want to be the reason he finally smiles as he falls asleep.

“You’re not boring. You’re just an idiot.” Bakugou snickers.

You yawn in reply, and Bakugou rolls his eyes, “Cmon, idiot. We’re going to bed.” 

Bakugou guides you to your room with his hand on your lower back. He doesn’t touch you, only hovers, but you can feel the heat dispersing from his palms. His warmth draws you in, only to fully envelope you when you rest your head on his bicep. He doesn’t object and continues escorting you to your dorm. 

“How did you know this room was mine?” you ask, casually leaning into Bakugous palm so his hand finally touches you. He flinches at the contact but doesn’t pull away.

“The room competition.”

“I remember you were being super lame and sleeping. So how do know, stalker?” 

Bakugou currently is too drained to address your name-calling, but he’ll address it when he gets back at you another time. “Yeah, well, Sparky was ecstatic to be in your room and filled me in on every detail I missed. Including your dorm number.”

You scrunch your nose and stick out your tongue. “Ew! What a perv!” you chirp.

“That’s what you get for letting Denki-dumbass in your room.” 

When you giggle at Bakugou, he smiles softly back before averting his eyes to the ground. He clears his throat and shifts his weight.

You’re making Katsuki Bakugou nervous!

And you love it. You want Bakugou to feel conflicted around you, for his emotions to overwhelm him so much that the forbidden praises resting at the bottom of his throat, those kind words he would never confess to anyone, to shoot out at you. You want to watch him awkwardly recover from the unprecedented compliment he aimed at you, and listen to his guttural mumblings as he makes a feeble attempt to regain superior ground. 

He silently turns away, but you grab his wrist and tug him back. You hastily kiss his cheek, leaving both of you blushing deeply.

Then, Bakugou leans down to kisses you. 

The kiss starts slow and sleepy, but Bakugou isn’t into that type of shit. He’s not into the type of kiss that bores you while simultaneously leaving you begging for more, so he pulls you closer to deepen and speed up the kiss.

Kissing him is like licking a sugary caramel apple. You’ve never met a boy who tastes this good-- alas, you’ve never actually kissed one, either. But there’s no way every boy is like this. You open your mouth so his tongue can intertwine with yours.

His tongue is slippery, his lips are spitty, and he bites your lip to point you know wake up with sores, but you enjoy every second you spend breathing in his heat. You can feel the temperature rising as you snake your hands into his hair and press against his chest.

 Are you making out with Bakugou at midnight?

 Yes, you are. And you love it.

 The kiss ends far too soon. You want to kiss him until you’ve sucked all the sweetness off of his lips. You want to remain in his grasp forever. 

“G’night, Y/n.” he whispers in your ear, his warm breath sending chills down your spine.

With that, he shoves his hands deep into the pocket of his sweatpants and trudges to his dorm. 

You wake up to a sharp pain on your neck. You groggily stumble to your mirror, your mouth falling agape at the sight of a hickey.

When the fuck did Bakugou even do that?!

You gingerly apply pressure to the love mark wit your fingers, and it stings. 

Then it hits you why he did this. 

It’s a territorial mark. 

Your scoff. He’s claiming you before even asking you on a date. 

That’s fucking Katsuki Bakugou for you. But, honestly, the thought of him putting his ownership of you on display like a prized trophy, boasting how you belong to him makes you feel weak. 

You don’t want to seem like a slut, but you also don’t  hide Bakugous marking. It’ll convey the message that not only are you his, but that you are the girl he let his heart out of its cage for. 

When you pass the ‘Bakusquads’ table, it’s empty, except for a plate steaming chocolate chip pancakes that sit across from him. 

Your favorite.

You hesitantly sit down in front of Bakugou, who briefly admires his work on your neck before merely greeting you with a grunt.

You’re in awe of the fluffy, chocolatey pancakes preceding you. There’s a waterfall of syrup trickling off the sides, with a single slice of butter perked on the top pancake, like a cherry on top of an ice cream sundae.“Did you… Make these for me?” You use the fork he grabbed you to dig in. It never even crossed your mind that Bakugou held the capacity to be this thoughtful. But not only did he make you three heavenly pancakes, he brought you utensils, and even set them down with proper etiquette. Fork on the left, knife and spoon on the right.

“Yeah. Since you can’t cook for shit.” he croaks. “I don’t want you poisoning yourself.”

“Awww Bakugou? Do you care about me?” It’s obvious he does, but he would be caught dead before he admitted it.

 “Eat shit.”

“If you wanted to eat shit, you should’ve let me make breakfast.” You quirk an eyebrow, biting your lip to suppress a smile.

Bakugou gruffly responds. “You have a point, idiot.” 

You take another bite of your pancakes and moan into the fork. “Bakugou, for real, you are amazing at cooking.”

 He rolls his eyes. “I know. I don’t need you to tell me.”

You giggle to yourself, deciding it’s best to leave grumpy morning Bakugou alone. “Okay big guy, I’ll back off with the compliments. But I’m not fucking with you. I really mean it.”

There’s a brief pause. “Thanks, asshole,” he mumbles, keeping his head down so you can’t see the deep blush on his cheeks.

A long, comfortable silence, reminiscent of the one last night, ensues. Halfway through your meal, you set down your fork. You straighten your posture and exhale weightily, gaining Bakugous attention. 

 “Hey, Bakugou? Do you… Umm, would you wanna go on a date?” Even though it’s obvious he likes you, your voice quivers as you speak.

“Sure, idiot.” Bakugous voice barely wavers, but he still plasters a cheeky look on his face to cover it up. “But I’ll cook.”

[astarinthevalley]

It Was Bound To Happen

Siblings get mad at each other, it happens. Siblings fight for silly reasons, it happens. Things can get out of hand, it happens.

Sebastian glanced at the clock on his computer and blinked a couple of times. Was it really 9:45 PM? It was only 4:30 PM a couple of minutes ago.

He pushed his chair away from his screen and looked around his abyss of a room, barely being able to make any piece of furniture out. He’d usually turn on the small TV by his bed for background noise and a source of light--one not too intense, but not too dim either--since he despised getting up and traveling across his room just to flip a light switch.

Sebastian stretched his arms high over his head, listening to the clicks his wrists made as he rotated them. He turned his head and his neck released a loud, satisfying crack.

He got up and heard his feet land on what remained of his lunch: empty, crumbled bags of chips. When did he eat those again? 11 AM? He should be hungry, his stomach should feel like it’s being ripped to shreds like it always does when he forgets to eat, but he felt fine. ‘I should eat something anyways.’ He thought to himself. His mom, Maru, and Demetrius probably already had dinner together, and had stored the leftovers in the microwave for him as they always do whenever he couldn’t--or didn’t--join them.

Sebastian began maneuvering his way through the dark room, shuffling his feet across the floor so he wouldn’t risk stepping on whatever trash he had tossed and forgotten about. He kept his eyes focused on the spot where his door stood and reached his hand out. The moment his fingers came into contact with the cold metal of the knob, he wrapped his hand around it, swung the door open, and was immediately blinded. Why were the house’s lights still on? His mom always turned them off at 9:30.

He walked up the stairs, hand on the railing, as his eyes adjusted to the sudden shift in brightness. As he ascended the stairs, he could hear his step-sister, Maru, talking aloud with the occasional giggle in between her pauses. She must be on the phone.

He reached the hallway and took a right, journeying straight to the kitchen, not interested in whatever Maru was blabbering about. Unfortunately for him, Maru also decided she wanted to spend some of her time in the kitchen. She was sitting on top of their kitchen table, wrinkling the pink cloth covering it that mom had washed today, phone pressed against her ear, and a big, stupid, punchable smile on her face.

Whoever was on the other side was taking their time talking, so Sebastian decided to ask “Where’s mom?”

Maru peeked at him and whispered a ‘Hold on’ to her friend. “They’re at the saloon, and hello to you too.” She said in a tone not nearly as enthusiastic as it was a moment ago.

His mom would always pop into his room to let him know she was heading off somewhere, why didn’t she this time? Or maybe she did and he had forgotten about it.

He brought himself to the microwave and opened it to see a bowl of pesto pasta sitting in the center. ‘Warm it up for a minute, stir, then cook again for another minute.’ His mom’s instructions rang through his head.

He shut the microwave again, set the timer up, got a fork from a drawer, then stood and watched the bowl rotate while listening to the low buzzing and the tiny pops coming from his dinner.

Sebastian always found the noise rather calming in a strange sense--that is until time had run out and his trance would be disrupted by the blaring beeps--but Maru’s rambling was impossible to block out.

“... And I got a letter from another college today--Yeah, yeah! I didn’t expect so many to be interested, I’m really overwhelmed!”

Sebastian couldn’t hold back his groan. She was bragging about her damn robot again. Normally he’d be mildly annoyed but understanding when it came to bragging about accomplishments, he was guilty of doing so himself, but to constantly hear someone praise themselves for well over a month would start to drive anyone insane. Maru had built a robot--with the help of Demetrius--that was about the size of a small dog. It was able to pick up certain objects, respond to commands, and write. She showed off it’s abilities to the whole town, and everyone, even Sebastian, was impressed with what she had created.

“... My dad said he was going to help me with future projects, but I need to be more independent.”

He expected the never-ending praise from his parents, and had prepared himself for the constant compliments Maru would receive throughout this month and the many months after. She could mop the floor and they’d shower her in affection for the whole week, it was something they were both used to. But what he wasn’t prepared for was everyone to constantly talk about Maru and her invention. Maru makes a dingy droid and you might as well have told everyone the second coming of Christ was happening in this very valley. Sure, they lived in a small town, and when anything slightly out of the ordinary popped up, it was bound to be talked about for a couple of weeks, but conversations about Maru have barely dwindled.

“... I still need to make some improvements on the little droid.”

The continuous praise at home was exhausting enough, so to hear her name in every passing conversation was a nightmare. He liked to leave his house to get away from her, to get away from his parents gushing, but now it felt like there was no escape. Even his best friends, Sam and Abigail, had mentioned both Maru and her machine during their nights at the saloon.

Three loud, obnoxious beeps finally escaped the microwave. That had to have been the longest minute of his life.

He took out the dish and stirred the contents recklessly, his fork clashing against the sides of the bowl and scraping the bottom, before placing it back in and setting the timer for another minute.

The second the dish is done, he’ll snatch it up, and rush back into the basement away from Maru. He wouldn’t care if the scalding ceramic would melt his fingers off, he couldn’t stand being in the kitchen with her for a second longer.

“... That’s the problem, I don’t know if I want to move out yet! I really love it here, and I know my parents would support me no matter what I choose, but…”

Is she capable of talking about anything besides herself? Everything has to be about her, her inventions, how her parents can’t get over her, her problems, her success, her feelings, her. Her. Her.

Sebastian hated it. When he stayed up countless nights programming with no help whatsoever, fueled by several cans of energy drinks and stress, all he’d receive were lectures. ‘Stop spending so much time on the computer’, ‘Stop playing games’, ‘Stop browsing the web’, ‘Staying in here for so long is unhealthy’, shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Then when he was given the chance to share what he was doing, explaining how he tests and develops software with enthusiasm and bright eyes, he could see his parents’ lack of interest in their dull eyes. Their amazement and fascination was all used on whatever Maru had been doing that day, and all that was left for him was boredom and exhaustion. Even on the days he went outside to work on his motorcycle, Demetrius wouldn’t hesitate to bicker about how much noise he was making, how he was distracting Maru from her work, how he was making a mess. The man was impossible to satisfy.

“... Yeah, I’ll be able to come over tomorrow!”

Sebastian stared at the timer. There were 10 seconds left.

“... I was thinking of bringing some gadgets over--Oh! We could try…” He hated her. Perhaps that was a strong word, but it was the truth. Nothing good had ever come from Maru.

9 seconds.

“... I don’t mind what we do, I just hate being cooped up in my room all day…” He hated the bragging, he hated the never-ending praise, he hated how the moment she was born their parents shoved everything he had into the basement.

8 seconds.

“... My parents don’t mind…” He hated how she always acted so high and mighty.

7 seconds.

“... As long as I’m home before it gets dark…” He hated how Demetrius would treat him every time he was near her.

6 seconds.

“... I need a break anyways…” He hated how he was always blamed for any argument or feud that came between them.

5 seconds.

“... My wrists have been killing me…” It was never her fault. Maru can’t do anything wrong, it’s always Sebastian.

“... I swear, my projects will be the death of me...” He hated the mere sight of her.

4 seconds.

“... Oh, did I tell you about what I’m currently working on?” He hated her voice.

3 seconds.

“... I’ve been making these blueprints…” He hated her.

2 seconds.

“... For a new robot…” He hated her.

1 second.

“... And I’m hoping it’ll be able to do even more than my first--”

Without his command, his legs took him straight to Maru. He tore the phone from her hand and held it with a crushing grip.

Maru’s mouth hung open, processing what had just happened in those mere, few seconds.

“Please.” Sebastian started in a frigid hush, “Shut. Up.”

Maru blinked a couple of times and stared at him, dumbfounded.

She shook off her surprise and reached for the phone, “I was talking with somebody!”

Sebastian pulled it away and hung up on whoever she was speaking with, “Not anymore. You can call them another time.”

Sebastian turned back to the counter, ready to grab his dinner and leave. He threw her phone aside and heard it land with a gratifying ‘crack’.

Maru scrambled to pick it up, checking the screen to make sure it hadn’t been ruined, then looked back at Sebastian.

“What is your problem?!” She raised her voice, face tinting red.

Sebastian ignored her as he opened the microwave.

She placed the phone on the table and stood up, snapping her fingers to get her step-brother’s attention.

“Hey, hey! You can’t just treat me like garbage one second then pretend I don’t exist the next!”

“I said shut up.” Sebastian repeated coldly, facing away from the girl.

“No, I won’t!” Maru stepped closer, “I can deal with you acting like this most of the time, but these past few weeks you have been really, really--” She scrunched her face, struggling to come up with a word to perfectly describe his recent, foul behavior. “--Vile!” She finished, pointing a finger at him.

“Sorry I’m not kissing your ass like everyone else.” He rolled his eyes as he grabbed the hot dish. He set it on the counter and scanned the kitchen for napkins.

Maru watched him search for a minute, then the gears in her head started turning.

Her eyes widened, “It’s because of my robot, isn’t it--”

“No, that damned robot isn’t the issue,” He clutched the edge of the counter, “it’s you! That’s my problem, it’s always been you!” He growled.

A genuinely hurt expression flashed across Maru’s face before it was replaced with anger. Her hands curled into fists.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” She muttered, her voice was shaky. “You’re… You’re just…” She hated these moments with Sebastian. She hated how often they’d come. No matter what she did, no matter what she said, the two of them always ended up arguing. She’d always lose. She’d always be given a repulsed look and grumbled cusses as he’d walk away. Sometimes her parents would intervene and defend her, but they weren’t here right now.

She can’t keep letting herself get stepped on.

“Because you’re jealous, aren’t you?” She finally said, her voice still unsteady.

Sebastian’s body stiffened.

“Because you’re in your basement all day, staring at your--your stupid computer, pretending everyone doesn’t exist…” She breathed in, “And while you were sitting around, being angry, I was out there doing something. I’m actually getting somewhere! I actually have the chance for a successful future, I have potential, and you--you--y…”

The confidence she was finally building up had been shattered into millions of pieces as she watched Sebastian reach over to the knife block. When his fingers curled around and held the grip of the nearest knife, she felt her blood drain from her face.

The world had stopped. Maru had stopped. She couldn’t move. She only stood and waited, hoping Sebastian would let go, tell her he’s kidding, or for him to go outside to smoke, anything. Anything.

Sebastian began to turn his head in her direction, the hatred in his eyes burned greater than the flames in the depths of Hell. The more he kept turning his head, the louder her heart banged in her ears. Her horrifying hypnotic heartbeat was soon overtaken by a single thought booming in her head: He’s going to kill me.

Maru made a dash to the hallway, hearing her step-brother’s footsteps right on her tail as he started shouting a slew of curses and threats. She had never heard Sebastian shout in such a terrible tone in her entire life. Even during their absolute worst fights, his raised voice would sound pissed at most. But here? Now? He was screaming. There were moments where his voice would strain as he swung the knife she barely avoided, threatening to hack her head off. Whatever restraint he had built up over the years, whatever had kept him sane throughout the entirety of their relationship had been thrown out. All that remained was a man who looked like her step-brother screaming bloody murder, fueled by pure hatred, and wanting nothing more than to see her bleed.

Maru saw the door to her parents room on the right and instantly ran inside. She locked the door and took lungfuls of air, hot tears running down her face as she almost choked on her own spit.

The knob began to wriggle faster and faster until Sebastian resorted to banging and kicking. He’d slam his body against it, causing the door to budge and Maru’s life to flash before her eyes.

“OPEN THIS DOOR!” She heard him scream, “OPEN THIS DOOR, OPEN THIS DOOR! I’LL KILL YOU. I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.”

He kept shouting those words and other horrible threats at her. She needed to get out.

She whipped her head around, hoping to find any possible escape route, but a pit began to form in her stomach as she realized she had trapped herself in her parents’ room. This wasn’t like her bedroom, there wasn’t another door that led outside, and the only window in here wasn’t big enough for her to crawl through.

The banging on the door grew louder, so did Sebastian’s yelling.

“YOU BITCH.” Sebastian threw himself against the door again.

She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t think straight. Block the door. She needs to block the door.

She saw two wooden chairs beside her parents’ bed that sat in the center of the room and grabbed one. She wedged the back of the chair underneath the doorknob, praying it’d be enough to hold back Sebastian.

She suddenly saw the blade of the knife jab through the crack of the door and watched it dragg up and down before being pulled back in. Whatever Sebastian was attempting to do didn’t go as planned; he resorted to charging against the door again, shouting, and now sporadically stabbing the door itself.

Maru would watch in horror as the blade made its way through the other side of the door with every other stab. She couldn’t tear her eyes off the door. She wanted to throw up.

“I HATE YOU.”

As Sebastian’s screaming and thrashing grew more and more voluminous, Maru backed herself against the wall, sat down, and brought her knees to her chest. She covered her ears, tears clouding her vision, as horrid thoughts and questions filled her mind. She remembered watching so many documentaries about serial killers with Penny, fascinated with how sick people could be. She never imagined her own step-brother would be the end of her.

“DO YOU HEAR ME?”

She wondered what it’d be like to have a knife plunged into her chest. Would it feel like a quick sting? Would it burn? Would her adrenaline prevent her from feeling anything at all, and she’d be stuck staring into her step-brother’s wild eyes? Would he drag out her demise? Or would he end her life as fast as possible?

“I HATE YOU.”

Maybe she deserves this. Maybe she should have treated him better. Maybe she could’ve tried harder. She should’ve kept her stupid mouth shut. She shouldn’t have said anything. None of this would’ve happened. Sebastian feels this way because of her. She deserves this. She deserves this. She’s going to die. She’s going to die.

She suddenly heard the front door open through Sebastian’s banging. Footsteps and muffled voices, which soon turned into shouting, grew near.

“Sebastian? Sebastian--oh my God, what are DOING!?” She heard her mom shout. Sebastian was rather too consumed with wanting to kill Maru, or no longer cared about the consequences, as his screaming and thrashing became more severe.

Demetrius’ shouting started clashing with Sebastian’s, and another, quieter male voice could be heard as well.

Sebastian’s ruckus came to an abrupt stop. He must’ve been pulled away from the door. She could hear his yelling, his legs kicking about, and--somehow--his knife swinging wildly.

Someone knocked on the door. “Maru, honey, are you in there?” Maru heard her mother ask through Sebastian and Demetrius’ shouting.

“It’s safe to come out,” Her mom said, “Dr. Harvey called the police. You’re going to be okay.”

Maru slowly got up and pulled the chair away. She cautiously unlocked the door and listened to the yelling grow louder as she opened the door more and more.

Maru was hoping seeing her mother would cause a wave of relief and security to wash over her, but Robin wore a false smile in a poor attempt to mask her fear, making Maru feel sicker.

Robin pulled her in for a tight hug and placed her hand on her head, whispering to Maru that they’re going to be okay, everything will be fine, it’s all over now.

Maru forced her head to the right and saw an enraged Demetrius and a terrified Harvey restraining both of Sebastian’s arms.

Sebastian had finally stopped shouting. He was sitting on the floor, panting through gritted teeth, tears running down his face, and staring at her with those horrible, loathsome eyes that wished to see nothing more than Maru’s demise.

[purplesurveys]

1110

survey by evening-hush

Can you drive yet? Tell me what you think about it: I love being able to know how to do it. It’s super convenient and I appreciate how it allows me to travel on my own time and schedule.

What is your favorite time period in history to learn about? When it comes to learning history, it’s not really so much a certain period I like reading about but rather the sub-topic under it. That said, I like learning about social history the most. I’d much rather learn about the recipes people used to make than the weapons they used in war, or who conquered which lands.

What's the saddest report you have ever seen on the news? It unfortunately makes for somewhat frequent news here, but I always hear of news clips covering discarded fetuses - and sometimes even days-old infants - located in a trash bin. It makes me infuriated too, but for the most part it’s heartbreaking.

Describe what your smile looks like: I think I have quite a cheery smile. I just get insecure sometimes because of my teeth, but most of the time I like to smile big and have it look genuine.

What colors do you associate with all of the four seasons? As someone from a country that doesn’t actually get to experience any of the four seasons, here’s what I think of each: winter is white, summer is sky blue/yellow, spring is yellow/pink, and fall is maple-ish/orange.

In your honest opinion, what is the scariest sea creature you know? Erm, probably those deep-sea creatures that look more like rocks than fish.

Don't you think old people are awesome? I think most Baby Boomers suck, but there are some rare gems out there, I guess.

What is your favorite day of the week? Why? Friday, of course. Reaching the end of the day, knowing there’s a full weekend ahead of me, feels super relieving and freeing.

What time do you usually get to sleep at night? It varies. On weekdays I’ll sleep anywhere between 9-11 PM; and more recently, for weekends, I’ve been trying to stay up until midnight or beyond because I want to be able to catch up on the hobbies I don’t get to do on weekdays.

When you text, do you use text lingo? If it’s with a friend, yes. Never with a client or anyone I’m communicating with for official work purposes.

Oh! What's your name? Robyn.

Who would you cast to play you in a movie? I guess the obvious choice would be Vanessa Hudgens since she’s Filipina?? but idk. It would be neat to have someone as badass as Florence Pugh or Emma Stone to play me, though.

If you could go back in time & live in any decade, which would it be & why? I’d shake it up and pick some random, obscure, perhaps unremarkable decade like the 1570s. Just so I have absolutely no clue what to expect.

What superpower do you think would be the most handy in times of trouble? Manipulation of thoughts/emotions. It’s not the most ethical, but that’s not what we’re talking about here lmao.

Do you believe there is just one love for everyone, or...? I believe everyone can have their own truth when it comes to love.

What natural disaster scares you the most? Earthquakes.

Why are you best friends with your best friend? She just gets me, I guess. We get along very well, our humors match perfectly, but most of all she’s patient with me and I’ve always been able to see that she genuinely cares about me.

What quirk bothers you the most about other people? People are so quick to cancel others these days; it’s amusing to watch people enthusiastically pick fights over just about anything.

Would you ever marry for money? The idea itself is attractive, but I’m not sure I would actually push through with it. I think I have to love someone should I ever marry them.

What is one of the toughest things you have ever had to do? Move on with my life. Acknowledge the ugly emotions and acknowledge that I’m not doing ok.

What outrageous career could you see yourself wanting to do? This is outrageous for me, but modeling. The career itself is not strange, but I used to want to be a runway model in my early teens and it’s funny to look back on now.

Do you world peace is truly a possibility in the future? No.

What song lyrics best reflect your personality? Idk about personality, but right now, “Why do memories glow the way real moments don’t?” is super relevant to my life at the moment.

In what way would you want to help change the world? Being one with marginalized groups in their various fights and causes.

Do you think it is important to tell the truth or spare someone's feelings? It depends on the gravity of the situation, I guess? Like white lies are fine, but in more serious situations it’s always better to tell the truth. I remember that when my great-aunt died last year, all her siblings made it a point not to inform their brother (my great-uncle) who recently had a heart surgery and was thus very vulnerable and could possibly have an attack if he ever found out. They kept it from him for nearly the entire year and it drooooove meeeeee nutsssssssss. I suppose it was understandable for the first few days, but when those days turned to several months, I started to wish they’d tell him sooner because I felt like it would be a lot worse once he learned she’d been dead since the start of the year. Anyway, I was recently informed he knew about it already and I never heard drama come out of it, so I guess it was dealt with well.

What is the most awkward moment you have ever had to endure? Ugh, probably that time an online delivery arrived at home and it was a fucking vibrator/dildo meant for my parents.

When driving down the road looking for an address do you turn the radio low? Hahahaha yessss.

Pretend you are a really good cook, what meal would you make? Risotto.

What is your favorite piece of clothing in your closet? Why? My mom jeans. It’s a classic look that always works, plus it’s super comfy.

What do you think of when you look at the stars? Looking up at the stars means I’m thinking hard. It gets me in a reflective mood.

If you could say ONE THING to the president, what would it be? Ughhhh fuck you get your presidency over with already we are all fucking tired.

What is your favorite kind of weather? As long as it’s chilly I’m happy.

If a turtle doesn't have a shell, is he homeless or naked? Both, I guess?

What's one thing you feel you must do in your life before it ends? Travel to a different continent.

What Disney princess are you most like? Personality wise, I mean. Ariel was such a hopeless romantic and reckless and dumb when it came to love, so let’s go with her.

Tell me about your worst fashion mistake: I was a late bloomer and let my mom buy my clothes for me at ages where I definitely should’ve already stopped doing so.

Do you believe in astrology? No.

Do you look into people's eyes when you talk to them? Not always.

You can have one of the following two things: trust or love. Pick one. Don’t they come together though? If I love someone it means I trust them?? But it’s whatever. I’ll go with trust.

Are you the kind of friend that you would want to have as a friend? Yeah, I think I’m thoughtful and I like that I’m good at remembering small details about my friends. I’d love a friend like that.

What would be harder for you, to tell someone you love them or that you don't love them? Probably that I don’t. I’ve never had to do it before, either.

What do you think is the most important thing in this life is? Self-satisfaction.

What did you think about this survey thingy? :] Nice roster of random questions! I personally enjoyed it.

[fmdsooaharchive]

CHO SOOAH — BASE ONLINE #1 (EVERYTHING I DO IN A DAY)

SUMMARY: Sooah has no idea why this is something that people would want to watch, but her manager asks her to do it and she has all planned in her head to make it sound as exciting as she can possibly can. WC: 826

“Hello everyone, I’m Fuse’s maknae, Sooah, and here’s everything that I do in a day.”

Sooah was unsure of how to proceed with this, to be honest. When she was told about this, and her manager recommended taking this opportunity, Sooah wasn’t sure how she was supposed to approach this. It’s not as if she has a hectic or interesting life, so she’s not sure why this is something that people would want to see. But she agrees, and on the day of recording, she has everything more or less prepared in her head to narrate one in her life.

“So, I will be the first one to tell my friends to go sleep early. Have those eight hours that we need to feel fully rested. Unfortunately, I don’t follow my advice, so I go to sleep late in the night, and wake up around seven or eight? Depends a lot of the day,” she smiles to soften the load of information. Of course, she won’t go around saying she suffers from insomnia since a couple of years before debut, but if she didn’t say that, her whole schedule hours would be a bit messed up.

“First thing I do after waking up is going to the bathroom, take a nice shower to help wake me up, and then I have my skincare routine that is too long and boring to mention here. But use your moisturizer and never leave the house without your sun protection skin, take care of yourself,” she says cheekily while pointing at the camera. Sooah chuckles as clasps her hands behind her back. “Uhm, mom, I hope you’re not watching this. I usually don’t have a proper breakfast. I usually just have some tea or milk or have cereal with fruits and yogurt. I do that not because I’m not hungry. It’s mostly because I’m just lazy to cook something proper like it happened in my parents’ house.”

“As of recently, I had to head out to my schedules more than group activities and because it’s usually CF filming shoots or variety shows schedules, we head to hair and make-up, and I stay there for two? Maybe three hours? Again, it depends a lot on the day and what I have to do. When we’re finished with that, we travel to the location and have many changes of clothes as we take the pictures and work on everything that we need. For CFs like the one I had for Lipton Tea, and I had to learn a dance and sing their jingle, I had maybe five or four days to learn everything? In that case, we took a little longer to finish but usually we work from 10 AM to 2 or 3 PM,” she wonders out loud while nodding her head.

“Because we’re all hungry at this point, my manager would probably get me something for lunch, and it’s usually kimbap or tteokbokki if he feels like the day was particularly long. Most days we get salads, though. I wasn’t the biggest fan of them when I was younger, but greens are good for us, so it’s okay. After wrapping up my solo schedules, I head to the company and start practicing. Fuse had a few concerts in Japan recently that were a lot of fun, and we had to learn a few modified versions of our old choreographies. Because I’m slower at learning new steps and memorizing them, I spend a long time in the practice room to make things look perfect, so I spend four or five hours to make sure I have most of it nailed.”

“I also have singing practice, mostly because my technique isn’t the best, and I don’t need to mess up with my vocal cords while singing, so I go through some exercises to teach myself how to sing better without hurting myself. Most days I’ll head back home at 10 or 11 PM. You may be wondering, Sooah you haven’t eaten in many hours. Don’t worry, I’ve been snacking the whole day on things like sweet potato chips. Those are the best snacks, and I always have a bag with me so I can eat them.”

“I’ll get home, if I don’t have anything on my fridge to warm up in the microwave or the oven, I just order something to be delivered. While I wait for whatever of those two options to be ready, I take another shower to make myself feel clean and relaxed. I eat and work very frequently, so maybe I have a song to finish, or I have an idea for lyrics. I will do all of that while having dinner.”

“And then at 2 AM usually, I go back to bed and sleep until my alarm goes off again.”

“That’s it, that’s one day in the life of Cho Sooah. Not very exciting, yeah. I hope you guys enjoyed it. Thank you for watching, and bye-bye.”

[wolfwhiteflowers]

I found this on twitter and wanted (try) to answer them here instead. :B Great questions! thanks. @LM_Nocass twitter.com/LM_Nocass/ status/1292935841258647553

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𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥/𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥/𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 (𝐩𝐥𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲); 2:28 PM · Aug 10, 2020 --------------@LM_Nocass

1. Which part of herself does Carol see in Daryl?  ||um same brokenness past and seeing that there’s good parts in him. He’s not like Merle and Ed. 2. Which part of himself does Daryl see in Carol?  ||They both know what it’s like to be abused and have an understanding. He sees strength in her. /...I think they slowly start to think they’re not alone on feeling like the odd one out or fighting to live before Apoc. They eventually think they’re a lot alike and connected right away. s1-s2. I guess they both started to grow at the same time and look after each other’s back ever since.

3. If there was no za and they met each other, would they be so close? Why?    ||Yeah I think so. But not so close or “early” on. Probably lil glimpse of like oh they’re alike and good people. But other things in the way...like Carol or Daryl be stuck in bad situations and die or something. Y’kno Daryl would’ve been like “mini Merle” or like.... dead from stopping a fight or prison. Carol could just be dead or lost herself from being with Ed. ...Unless they got away from their abusers :) I can see there’s a chance of them getting close.   *”mini Merle” I think I got this phrase wrong. Mini Merle is Merle’s hand weapon thing. I meant that Daryl would have become more damaged,lost, and be similar to Merle then. ..like a younger Merle.

4. How do you think, Alexandria's ppl ship them or they don’t care? Why?  || BTW, I think of what the writers want or had in mind.. Anyway, when Rlchonne happened or Abe and Sasha went canon, it just seems like very neutral whatever way. Well I guess the show isn’t that .. charactery and romantic. -_-  Anyway, I think they care and are supportive and of all Team family but mind their business. I think practically everyone knows about Caryl and their close relationship. I guess they’re like in the same boat as us or general fans. We would be happy if they get together but if not then like ....hmm you guys are so together~  Um..I guess people would be going WTF if Caryl grew apart.

5. AU: real life. Which one of them is more attractive to believe in supernatural stuff? Why?   || they both seem to be into that. erm I’ll say Daryl.

6. AU: real life. Which one of them is more attractive to send a lot of Red heartFace throwing a kissSmiling face with heart-shaped eyes and etc? Why?   || Carol is more open to display of affection. But Daryl got his heart on his sleeves. He’s straightforward tells/show you how he feels and means it.

13. What would do today's Carol if she met someone like Ed?  ||Probably she be able to stand up to him when he starts to be controlling and she speak out and say it’s not right. Idk..maybe them talking it out will make Ed change himself if he wants to. And she walks away from him early on. 14. If today's Carol met past Carol, what would she say to her?   ||You’re stronger than you think you are. You are enough. These hard times made her wiser in Apoc./life. She’s always a mother..when they’re gone, they’re still with her. 15. If today's Daryl met past Daryl, what would he say to him?    ||This doesn’t always have to be this way/Merle-life. You’re not alone. Good people will stick with you. Trust them. Your goodness matters. You don’t need to depend on Merle. If Merle wouldn’t change now then he won’t later on. Idk... Daryl is so loyal and to his brother. So it’s just he gotta let Merle/his past go. 16. Why does Daryl prefer the crossbow, not a bow?   ||I guess that’s what hunters like to use most often. Idk. 17. AU: real life. Which one of them is most likely to surfing in the Internet for hours? Why?   ||Carol because she mentioned internet in s4. lol Okay um yeah Carol I guess. I think she likes to research on things. Daryl is more outdoorsy kind of person. 18. AU: real life. Which one of them will have a private acc on social medias and who won’t care?   ||I think both would be private...or heck Daryl not private but barely any content. lol Just hunting, nature stuff and games.

19. AU: real life. Which one of them will send memes?   ||Carol because she like goofy or sassy jokes.

20. AU: real life.  What profession is suitable for Carol? Why?  ||hmm housewife, teacher, nurse, or something to look after the community.. She likes to cook but Idk if she likes to do it often. Some job to care about the people and place.

21. AU: real life. What profession is suitable for Daryl? Why? ||A hunter, mechanic, or construction worker. Something like hands-on job.

22. Which of them has a black sense of humor?   ||I think Carol have a dark/black sense of humor. Daryl is ..more less humor-y. more sarcastic. idk what im saying.

23. Had Daryl ever thought about having children? If he did, he would prefer boy or daughter?    ||I think he never really thought of it till he’s away from Merle/past life. But Idk I think he doesn’t really think on it. He just wants to protect all kids. He’s Uncle Daryl. I don’t think he has a preference.

24. Is Daryl asexual or demisexual? Or other? Why?    ||Read ? #10. I say so far it seems like he’s demisexual from what Kang said and from what people/fandom been always questioning him from the show and from that 6 years in woods plot. (Also the show isn’t that showy on romance and relationships so I didn’t think they would bother to address his romance/sexuality but they did so ok.) I guess I always think of him as demisexual...or someone who would be friends to lovers kind of person. He’s the closest with Carol so..slowburn to canon, yeah? /// This makes me think of Carol’s relationships and how she is fine having sex anytime ..no emotions involved way...She doesn’t really have or know a good emotional canon relationship except almost with Zeke, I guess. 25. Carol’s fav movie genre(s)? ||Romcoms <3

26. Daryl’s fav movie genre(s)?  ||action / horror :O 27. When the show ends, what kind of ending do you want for them?   ||I want good writing and that flows right. Caryl be Caryl. I guess them riding off to the sunset to New Mexico. Or..looking after team family in ASZ or TF working together to find/help Rick and living their best lives in a community. A happy ending pls. 28. Which one of them is good at math?  ||hmm Carol. Daryl would be good at reading..science.

29. If there was Caryl movie, what song(s) would you add to it?   || hmm a song to add, I would pick ..”You and Me” by Pink I think. Or, “X and Y” by Coldplay. Or, “Cosmic Love” by Florence Machine. 30. Did Daryl help you?   ||I really appreciate the writers and the acting did with Daryl and Carol. They’re really unique, interesting and relatable characters. Daryl helped me to keep being myself and do what’s right even when you feel odd ball out. Idk I also like that we see characters like Daryl and Carol what we stereotypical think they may be like in s1 but then we see they’re relatable and we can be more open minded to other people.  I liked that we see him getting a chance to grow and see how loyal he is. 31. Did Carol help you?  ||Yeah. I really like how she’s like I guess most people in s1, quiet, timid, not quite fit into the Apoc. world, but learns to trust herself, get braver and open up. She’s like so strong and brave now but it’s not surprising to see that in a way because we see her character development and I like how writers and acting, made it so relatable and realistic to me. We all can be like Carol. //I think she’s a great character to watch for mothers who lost kids or was a abused wife/person. Same with Daryl as a abused child/brother in that Merle’s lifestyle.

32. What did Caryl give you? Hope? Strength?  ||I really like what became Caryl in the show for years. They became one of my fave ships. They’re unique and I love that we see their strong bond and connection. They’re soulmatey and angsty. Idk I feel like they gave hope that there are people that will get you and have your back. And strength, they grown so much and made me think about myself to keep facing my fears and be in a healthy relationship. 33. Carol’s fav music genre(s)?   ||Country pop. Idk.. I think McReedus are into Rock music so. 34. Daryl’s fav music genre(s)?   ||Country rock. ...Idk Metal music.

35. Describe Carol in one word. ||Brave

36. Describe Daryl in one word. ||Loyal or uh a word that means does what he think is the right thing to do...and caring. Uncle.

37. What do you expect from them in season 11?  ||Idk I’m really clueless. TWD right now is really not by the comics anymore and it’s hard to speculate now. I’m kinda hoping they have something a plot that relates to taking care of the Grimes kids and a plot/s that relates to Rick’s journey/TWD show. Idk well I guess they be figuring it out what to do with Maggie and politics with the ..spoiler- new communities.

I hope for good writing and if they go canon, I hope they write good relationship/romance writing. As in they don’t separate them and break up a bunch of times or be boring. eek. I hope it’s like they still be like the subtle canon ship..like RIchonne as there is something else they have to do together. Like they be canon but they talk about the new plots/problems/family in s11 and their relationship grows.

38. Your favorite Caryl season(s)? Why?  ||It’s season 2 or s10. I feel it’s the most Caryl interaction and them deepening their relationship. 39. When do you think Daryl was ready to start a relationship? Or do you still think he isn't ready? Or he is ready rn?    ||Whenever the writers are ready. :\  I think as a character he’s ready...yeah especially s10. He’s not hiding and being emo in the woods in s9. He’s not the (Rick’s)sidekick character anymore. He’s I think grown a lot by being with people and opening up being a leader-like now, domestic?,leading character, and I think he’s now more ready to have romantic relationship if he wants to. And for Carol ..rn is like does she feel worthy or ok to have love again. ooh angst. 40. Which of them is owl, and which of them is lark? Why?  || I think Daryl is a lark/early bird because he likes the quietness and time to hunt, and Carol is a night owl because she likes to know what else is going on when it’s the dark.