#no wonder my series is planned to be five volumes long

[gracehosborn]

While having dinner I’m doing light research on Washington’s Life Guard for a chapter I’ll have to write in The American Icarus: Volume I soon-ish where then-Captain Hamilton rides out to headquarters to deliver an important letter to stop this other guy from committing treason (insane much?), and I find it absolutely hysterical that in his General Orders of March 11th, 1776, wherein he declares he wants to establish a guard, Washington specified that the men to make up the unit should be “five feet, eight Inches high, to five feet, ten Inches” tall, and “handsomely and well made”.

The fact that I can therefore write the small detail of height difference between Alexander and the Life Guard members he’ll encounter upon pulling up to headquarters is actually so funny what do you mean this information is extant.

[kkcauseway]

Forever and Always

Joel Miller x F!reader.

Summary I Your work life is awful and there's nothing you want more after an exhausting day both mentally and physically than to come home to Joel, but on calling him and finding out that's not possible you're dreading the thought of going home to be alone. However, it doesn't seem that that's the case once you actually make it back, and it turns into once of the best and happiest nights of your life. Content/warnings I So much cute fluff, Joel Miller being the most doting and caring boyfriend. 'babygirl', Joel has a cute little saying to let reader know just how much he loves her. Asking to move in together. No use of y/n, no outbreak. A/N I Once again another random idea that popped into my head that I decided to run with. I really hope you enjoy soppy, cute Joel taking care of his woman!

Main masterlist

It always puts a smile on his face when you call. Your name working wonders for the grumpy moods he finds himself in on jobs. Even with the jokes he cracks with Tommy. Nothing compares to when he’s with you, talking to you. Just doing anything that involves you. “Hey baby you, okay?” His husky voice grumbles down the receiver once he’s removed himself away from the bustle of the house, he’s currently working in.

“Joel?” You sniff.

His smile falters. Something is obviously wrong, and whatever’s happened he’ll kill them. No one upsets you. “Babe? Hey, hey what’s wrong?”

“I- sniff- I’m just having such a horrible day. I can’t stand this job anyone, I wana quit so bad. Please can you come over when I finish?” The sobs grow in volume as you force a hand to your mouth to try to quiet them. The impact of hearing those words leave your own mouth proving to you just how much you rely on him.

“Oh baby m’so sorry you’re having a shitty day. Listen we’re on a bad job today m’not gonna finish till super late so I most likely can’t come round. But I’ll call you later okay y’can tell me all about it okay baby. Promise.”

“Okay” you sniff upset he can’t come but you knew he was busy and that it was a long shot. You pine after him when you feel vulnerable like this.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” He grumbles evidently worried he’s in the doghouse.

“I know. I love you too so much.”

“Forever and always baby girl.”

The words making your heart flutter as they always do.

When the call cuts you hold your phone against your chest and sob a little more before psyching yourself up for your afternoon. Your colleagues don’t deserve to know just how bad they make you feel, they’d probably thrive on it if they knew.

So, instead you sort yourself out wash your face, wait till your eyes are less puffy, paint on your smile and go about the remainder of your shift thank fuck it’s Friday.

Of course no one notices, why would they when they make it clear how much they can’t stand you being around.

-

Finally five o’clock arrives and you rush out to your car as quick as you can. Putting on the cheesy cd playlist Joel made you. You love that he’s like that, so unbelievably cheesy, so old fashioned it’s why you adore him the way you do. When yours and Joel’s song comes on tears escape you again. God you’ve never loved someone the way you love him, but these tears you’re spilling are tears of happiness not pain.

When you make it home your shitty mood overcomes you again, the thought of your empty apartment and cold bed. So you settle on the idea of a large glass of red wine, a crappy comfort series and a good cry before you go to sleep. You’re have a day trip with Joel planned tomorrow and that’s enough to keep you going.

However, it’s like you can tell something’s off from the second your key is in the door. After momentarily hesitating you uneasily open your door and those thoughts are made true. Your apartment isn’t dark, cold, nor is it empty. The smell of food hits you so mouth-wateringly beautiful, and the radio is playing softly.

You kick off your shoes and move to the kitchen and there he is, Joel in all his glory slaving away over the stove. Dancing along to the music with an apron round his neck.

He turns to look at you with a smile on his face and it breaks you.

You stand on the spot throw your bag to the floor from your shoulder and cry. But he quickly rushes over “hey shhh it’s okay.” He cradles you close a hand on the back of your head pushing you closer to his chest. Allowing you to inhale his comforting scent.

“S’okay m’here baby.” He mumbles against your hair as he rests his lips against you. Holding you as close as possible.

After a few minutes you pull away red faced and puffy eyes to look up at him. “How did you get here I thought you were busy?”

“M’sorry baby, I know I didn’t think I’d be able to. And I’m so sorry that that made you upset, I really am, but as much as I am super busy at work the second, I heard you cryin’ I knew I needed to make sure I was finishin’ early so I could come over and see you, you mean more to me than any job, any amount of money. So I took a sick day for the remainder.”

“Thankyou” you whisper before moving to grasp at his stubbly cheeks. You smile sadly at him as your thumbs stroke him and then you move your lips to his, kissing him softly.

“I’ve made your favourite baby” he begins once you pull back away. Arms resting round his neck as you stand on your tip toes to be exactly in his eye-line. “And then I want you t’tell me all about this shitty day o’yours so we can get it outa your pretty head. You’re too beautiful to be burdened by that shit.”

You chuckle “I’d really like that, thank you so much for being here.”

“Always baby. Always.”

-

After a long moan fest over Joel’s signature spaghetti and meatballs, you’re cuddling on the couch with your long-awaited red wine.

Your difficult day long forgotten about which is why you love being around him so much, he really does make everything better. Just by being himself- so unapologetically himself.

You’re cuddled into him your feet kicked up behind you as he strokes your side. His calloused fingertips gliding lightly from your hip all the way up to the side of your breast, over and over causing constant goosebumps.

“You know v’been thinkin’” he mumbles softly into the silence.

“Shit did it hurt?” You chuckle as you jest with him, you love when you get the perfect opportunity to use that joke.

He pokes at your side in retaliation, and you giggle into it, loving every second of being with him.

“Seriously now though babygirl, sit up n’look at me.” 

Which you do without a moment’s hesitation. You pull away from him so you can face him sat on your knees.

God he’s gorgeous. His beautiful salt and pepper hair slightly longer than he would like but with you adoring him just like that he refuses to cut it.

He takes your hands in his and god it makes you nervous. Butterflies swim around in your stomach as you stare into each other’s eyes.

“I realised somethin’ today.”

Your breathing increases as you reply “what?”

He takes a nervous breath closing his eyes on the inhale and opening them back up to stare right back at you on the exhale. His perfectly pert lips opening just slightly to let the air out. He clears his throat as he shifts slightly in the seat. “Y’belong with me, all the time, all day every day, and it breaks my heart t’think that you could need me and we ain’t together.”

You smile softly at him, you know your rightful place is with him 24/7, there’s nowhere you’d rather be.

But the next words to leave him are so far from what you expected it’s as though time stands still. “Move in w’me.”

“What?” You’re excited from the moment the words leave his lips, but you’re certain you misheard.

“I want you t’move in with me, get out of this lil apartment. Come make my house ours, let’s always be together. No more late nights alone let’s always be there together even if my stupid fuckin’ job means I get in at 2am.”

You squeal throwing your arms around his neck as you practically pounce on him. “Oh my god yes, yes, yes when?”

He chuckles pushing you back slightly so he’s able to look at you once more. “Well I mean we could start moving ya stuff in tomorrow, I know we said we’d go out for the day but-”

“No!” You say it all too quickly and he laughs “I wana move in let’s do that fuck the plans! We can do that any day!” You forcefully hug him again. Pulling away he’s beaming at you “do you promise you mean it?”

“With all my heart baby.” The hand he has resting on your back moves up and down slowly. So soothing, so full of love.

You scream in excitement before kissing him.

When you eventually pull away you look directly into his hooded eyes. “Forever and always?”

“Forever and always babygirl” and he rubs his nose against yours.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute, Chapter 4 - Law

Source for the pic

Word Count: 4487 (these just keep getting bigger!)

Warnings: Fem!Reader, This is going to be a series featuring Ace, Sanji, Law, Zoro and Kid.

Special Warning: English is not my first language!

Summary: You had your life in Grand Line City all figured out. A wonderful job, a fiancé and a shared apartment. Until you found out he was cheating. Your father, Shanks, had a horse riding accident and you decided that this was just the right time to return home. You were expecting a peaceful, uneventful life back in the Calm Belt, but, fate had other plans.

Notes: I'm really sorry if I messed up some medical expressions. I tried to Google everything first!

| Chapter 3 - Zoro | |Chapter 5 - Sanji|

Law:

Your dad's grunts and wails have been increasing both in volume and in intensity, so you let out a long breath of relief as you finally park the truck at the clinic’s - thankfully almost empty - parking space. 

“Hey, dad” you say softly as your heart clenches at the sight of your father’s sweaty face and scrunched up brows. “I'm going to grab you a wheelchair and some help, okay?”

You take his grunt as a positive answer and run inside the clinic, only noticing your dishevelled state as you catch sight of your reflection in the glass doors: your white top is not white anymore and there's a tear at the bottom; your shorts have dirt and oil all over them; you don't even want to get started on your knees and legs, which are bruised and scraped from kneeling on the dirt; and your once perfectly braided hair is no longer perfect and it is barely braided. 

You sigh as you enter the clinic and wince in pain as you step your foot wrong. You definitely sprained it when you were with Zoro. 

You drag yourself to the front desk and the blonde girl gasps as she looks at your state. “Oh, my!” She gets up hastily and goes around the desk to reach you. “Are you all right?”

You nod frantically. “I'm fine, I'm fine. I-... Kaya?”

The girl looks at you with a furrowed brow but it doesn't take her more than five seconds before her mouth turns into an ‘o’ and she exclaims your name happily. “You're back! It's been ages!”

You laugh and nod. “Yes, we should catch up. After we get my father inside. He hurt his back and-...”

“Again?” You swear this time your ears start fuming. This has happened more than once and this doctor keeps sending him home? Oh, he is going to get a piece of your mind. “Shachi, Penguin, can you be darlings and bring Mr. S. inside? He's had another incident.”

You cross your arms against your chest and frown as you watch two men go outside with a wheelchair to bring your father inside. 

“They'll take him to Dr. Trafalgar. How about you, sweetie, are you alright? You don't seem well.” Kaya was your friend from kindergarten to half of the middle school, until she went home to be home-schooled. You lost touch with her even before you left town, but she has always been such a nice friend that you actually find yourself sharing a soft smile with the blonde. 

“I've had a few mishaps with the car before getting here.” You sigh. “I'll go freshen up in the bathroom and then I'll meet my dad. Is that alright?”

She nods and points you to the ladies’ room. You stand in front of the mirror and, as you're passing your fingers through your hair, trying - and failing - to detangle its knots, you realise you should eat something. You discarded breakfast on account of that stupid asshole and his selfies, and you and your father didn't have a chance to eat lunch. 

But first, you let out a deep sigh at your appearance, you should try to make yourself presentable. You don't want to chew the doctor's ears out looking like a hobo. 

Washing up as best as you can, massaging your sprained ankle, and redoing your braid - there's nothing to be done about the state of your clothes - you deem yourself somewhat presentable and, as you leave the bathroom, you see your father being wheeled to a room so you follow him quickly. 

“Daddy!”

“Buuuuuug! The doc gave me the good stuff!” He slurs and guffaws, opening his arm and almost throwing himself off the chair to hug you. Then he turns his voice into a whisper. “He stabbed a needle in ma butt!” Shanks uses his hand to hide his cheeky laugh before he continues. “Imma stay here for a while because they'll put some more drugs in my arm. And then we can go.”

What? IV and an injection? That's the whole treatment? No. Not on your watch. 

“Yeah, that's good dad, rest.” You smile at him and then turn to the man with the brown hair who is wheeling him. “Hey, where's the doctor's office? I need to speak with him.”

“Er… I… Hum… Dr. Trafalgar doesn't like unannounced visitors…” He stutters but you silence him with an angry look. “But if you must know, it's that door.” He then chuckles nervously and wheels Shanks to a room. 

You take a deep breath and stomp towards the office the attendant pointed out to you. After one step, you stop stomping because your ankle hurts too much, but you still make it to your destination. You knock lightly on the door, because you're not a savage, but start to tap your foot on the floor when you don't get an immediate answer. 

As you raise your fist for a second round of angrier knocks, you hear a deep ‘come in’ from inside the office and you open the door, wearing a frown. 

Which is quickly turned into a stunned expression because you didn't quite know what to expect from the doctor you've been hearing about, but this was not it. 

He's hot. 

There's no other way to describe the man in front of you. His black hair is tousled to perfection and you have to swallow a lump when he fixes his amber gaze upon your own. The frown and the furrowed brows only add to his allure, as you notice the tattooed forearms and knuckles. What an interesting choice of tattoos for a doctor, you can't help but think. 

They spell DEATH. 

The rest of his arms are covered by his white coat but you can't help but wonder if he has more ink on them. But that wondering soon stops, because he's already asked you twice about what you need and you have been transfixed in the same spot, drooling at him. 

“Right, hi! My father. Shanks! He was just here.” You exclaim as if that explains everything. 

“Yes, I know. I'm his doctor.”

He stares at you. “Oh, it’s my turn.” You stumble with your words and, is that an amused smirk in the stoic doctor’s face? Couldn't be, since it disappeared as soon as it appeared. “What is wrong with him? I keep hearing that he needs to come to the clinic more than once a week because of his back. That's not normal.” You seem to regain your cool and remember that you are there to get some answers from this man. 

He leans back in his chair and gestures for you to sit but you're too wound up to stay still, so you decline and start pacing the office. You're having a hard time breathing, so you start to fan yourself with your hand. 

“You're right, it's not.”

“What is it, then?”

His fingers entwine with one another as his gaze follows your form. You're limping, fanning both of your hands now, and you look like shit. You must be quite a spectacle.

“Doctor/patient confidentiality.”

“Are you kidding me?” Does your voice usually sound so far away? Because everything seems super bright and all the sounds are blending together. You stop and grip the back of the chair tightly, your knuckles turning white from the strength. 

“I'm not. Your father is sane and, other than his back, of good health. I have discussed treatment plans with him. He knows what he has and he knows what he needs to do in order to recover. To you, I can't say anything without his explicit permission.” You see him tense up as he stares at you and your behaviour. His brows furrow further as he turns his body to the side, as if he's about to get up. 

“But I'm his daughter!” You let out a ridiculous whine and start to gasp for air. 

“And I'm his doctor.” He gets up and approaches you. “Sit. You're so pale I can almost see through you. When was the last time you ate and-...”

That's the last thing you remember before waking up in a bed next to your father. 

-*-

You blink as your eyes adjust to the brightness of the room and take shallow breaths. Your head is throbbing and the constant beeping noise from the machine is not helping you at all. You realise that the beeping machine is hooked to you through your finger, as well as an IV attached to your arm. 

You raise your torso with a grunt and see that the cuts and bruises on your legs have been tended to, and your ankle is now sporting a not-so-fashionable elastic bandage with a pack of ice sitting on it. 

“Bug! You’re up!” Your dad flails his arm in the bed next to you to get you to look at him. “Law! Kaya! Someone!”

Pressing your thumb and index finger against the bridge of your nose, you sigh deeply. “Dad, dad, there’s a button to call the nurse next to the bed, please don’t scream.”

But it’s not necessary to use the button because Kaya enters the room with a concerned smile and gravitates towards you. “Sweetie, how are you?” Her voice is so gentle and kind that it forces an immediate smile from your lips. 

“My head is killing me. What happened?”

“Well, Dr. Trafalgar said it’s probably hypoglycemia - low blood sugar - he had some blood tests done, the results should be in at any moment. Have you eaten anything today?”

You nod and are about to say yes, of course, but the words don’t leave your mouth because they are not true. You really haven’t eaten anything today. “No.”

“Then, that’s definitely it.” Kaya giggles. “I could hear you yelling at Dr. Trafalgar from where I was sitting. He looked kind of flustered when he opened the office door, carrying you in his arms.”

You blush as your eyes widen. “What?”

“Well, you were unconscious, so he carried you to the examination room.” She giggles again and lowers her voice so your father doesn’t hear the rest. “Sweetie, you two looked straight out of a romantic movie. He was carrying you bridal style with a look of concern and you looked rather frail all curled up against his strong frame.”

You keep feeling your face getting hotter as the beep from the machine next to you grows louder and faster. Kaya has always loved romantic movies, so it’s no wonder she would think something silly like this. For all you know, Dr. Trafalgar was dangling you by one arm and you banged your head on all the thresholds before reaching this room.

It would explain the throbbing headache. 

“Nurse Kaya, I do hope you’re questioning the patient about medical history and the possible cause of this incident and not engaging in idle gossiping?”

You gasp alongside Kaya as Dr. Trafalgar approaches you both, a scowl on his face and his brows scrunched. How is his forehead not permanently wrinkled from all the pouts and frowns?

“No, I was just gossiping. I’m sorry.” Kaya giggles as you gasp at her truthful response. Is she allowed to speak like this with her superior? His stare at Kaya is so intense that, after a moment, she excuses herself and leaves you two alone with your father on the other bed, seemingly distracted by a soap opera on TV, until he spots the doctor next to you.

“Oh, Law! How is my baby girl?”

“Don’t call me that, dad.” You whisper between clenched teeth. Law? Is that the doctor’s first name?

“I’m going to examine her now, Mr. S. You can watch your show.” Shanks mouths a droopy ‘okay’ and turns back to the TV. He is still pretty high on drugs, apparently. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” His amber eyes stare at yours and you feel compelled to look at his name tag, instead, but then you are staring at his chest, and is that more ink coming out from the neck of the shirt he is wearing? Does he have a chest piece?

The beeping becomes faster and you switch back to the piercing eyes. “No, I haven’t.” You say, trying to distract yourself. 

“It’s certainly hypoglycemia, then. I will observe you.”

You nod and he removes the stethoscope from his neck, pushing it against your exposed cleavage. “Breathe in.” You take a deep breath. “Now out.” You do. He takes a step forward and tells you to lean forward as he repeats the process on your back. “In. Out.” 

He reaches for a small pen-like flashlight from his coat pocket and points it at your eyes. “Look up. Down. Now the other one, up. Down. Okay, that’s it.”

“That’s it? Aren't you going to say I'm a good girl?” You giggle for a second and then stop abruptly. Suddenly mortified as his eyes pierce into your own with an unreadable expression. “I'm sorry. That was stupid. Are there drugs here?” You point to the IV and as his stare doesn't waver, the beeping on the machine just keeps getting faster and louder. 

“That's just a dextrose and saline solution. No drugs. That was all you.”

The machine just beeps louder and louder and you grunt as you rip the monitor off of your finger, rendering the beeping into a continuous, even more annoying, beep.

“Stupid thing! I think that might be broken.” You snort, wail and hide your face in your hands. Can you be an even bigger idiot? Why are you acting like this? Aren't you supposed to be yelling at this doctor on account of your father? Where has all of your bravado gone? 

Out the window when you passed out and were carried like a princess by her knight in shining armour. As well as all your sane thoughts on feminism and women’s rights, apparently.

Crap. 

“Are you done?” He asks, deadpan as he turns off the monitor and the beeping stops. Now you’re frustrated again, but you simply pout and nod without making eye contact. 

He flips through some files and hums softly. “Your blood tests came out normal. This was a simple incident of low blood-sugar, next time try not to stay too long without eating anything, or, at least, if you’re going to fast, drink plenty of liquids, tea or water, preferably.”

“I wasn’t fasting.” You mumble between clenched teeth, your eyes locked on the chipped nail polish that had come out when you ripped the monitor that was attached to your finger. 

“Whatever weird diet you are on, then. Stop it. You look extremely healthy, you don’t need it.” Could that have been a veiled compliment?

“M’not on a diet.” Your mumble is even quieter.

“Sorry?”

“I’m not on any diet, or fasting, or anything. I just didn’t eat, that’s all.” This time you speak loud and cross your arms over your chest for emphasis.

“You didn’t eat the breakfast I cooked, bug? Is this still because of that jackass fiancé that cheated on you?” Shanks is literally screaming so you know that, by now, the entire clinic knows you’ve been cheated on. Yet you simply inhale, use the back of your hand to wipe away a stray tear and nod.

“I'm going to kill him.” Shanks simply declares as he tries to get up from the bed. “Law, help me kill him.”

You glimpse that amused smirk on the corner of his lips as he watches your father struggling with the bed covers. 

“I would really like to be your partner in crime, Mr. S. But, you see, I took an oath.”

That statement makes you giggle and he turns his gaze back at you, smirk still in place, and your heart does a weird thing that makes you catch your breath. 

“Shove that oath up your-... Ouch, dammit!” Shanks’ legs get tangled in the sheets and he almost falls as he tries to get up. 

“Mr. S. please calm down. We're not killing anyone today okay?” Dr. Trafalgar turns to you. “He seems pretty determined, maybe you should distract him with something less illegal?”

Is he funny as well? He seems so stoic and uptight but he's responding to your father's shenanigans with a dark humour that's making you laugh. 

“Daddy, lie back down on the bed, we will schedule another day to kill him, I promise.” You use your commanding tone and your father grunts before settling back down again. “Besides, since it's the three of us together, I would like to ask you, Shanks, what's the treatment that Dr. Trafalgar recommended for your back because the Dr. doesn't want to share that information with me.”

Your lips turn thin as you cross your arms over your chest. 

“That's a good lad, Law. Thank you.”

You glare at both of them but Dr. Trafalgar just raises his arms defensively. “Doctor/patient confidentiality!”

“Dad!” You huff at the same time as your father groans loudly.

“Just tell her, Law. Or I'll never hear the end of it. And I still have a murder to commit.” He mumbles. 

You turn your attention back to the doctor and try your best not to give him your ‘see you could've told me earlier and we would've avoided this whole situation’ look, but you definitely give him one of those. 

“Your father has a herniated disc in his spine. This occurs when the soft inner core of a disc between the vertebrae protrudes through the tough outer layer, putting pressure on nearby nerves.” 

Your brows tighten at all the medical jargon but you're understanding the essentials, so you nod for him to continue. 

“Mr. S. experiences stabbing pain that radiates along the path of the affected nerve and can lead to episodes of intense pain and sometimes a feeling of weakness or numbness in the affected area. Activities that cause strain on the spine can make it worse. Something like bending down or lifting stuff.”

You turn to your father with a glare in your gaze, your frown heavy and your eyes watery. “I told you you should rest!” Your words are but a sliver that escapes your lips. Dr. Trafalgar continues.

“When the medication hasn't provided enough relief, as it's your father’s case, surgery may be recommended. The procedure typically involves removing the herniated portion of the disc to relieve pressure on the nerves and alleviate symptoms.”

The silence stretches and evolves into a thick fog that encapsulates the three of you within. Your next words are measured carefully, but need to be asked. “Is it a complicated procedure?”

Of course it is! It's on the spine! 

“Each case is unique on its own. The complexity can vary based on factors such as the location and size of the herniation, as well as your father's overall health.”

“And the risks?” Your gaze alternates between the doctor’s professional stance and your father's slumped and defeated form.

“Like any surgery there are inherent risks of infections or allergic reactions. Specifically to this surgery, there's always the chance of the symptoms remaining or that another surgery might be necessary. There's also a more severe risk of nerve damage, which can cause temporary numbness or weakness. Yet, in this case, I would argue that the benefits far outweigh the risks.”

“Dad…” You start. 

“I don't want to discuss this right now.” He discards the use of your nickname and calls you by your birth name, declaring his seriousness of the matter. 

Your lower lip trembles and you nod at him letting out a very soft ‘okay’. Suddenly, realisation hits you. This was probably the reason why he had the horse riding incident. It was the cause not the consequence. 

Dr. Trafalgar places a very gentle hand over yours and you gasp at the shock of his touch. “I will send nurse Kaya to remove your IV and your father's so you can both be on your way and discuss this properly.” You nod. “If you have any questions, you can always call me or visit the clinic.” You nod again, suddenly exhausted as your body starts to complain of all the abuse it suffered today. 

He leaves calling out a ‘take care, Mr. S.’ to your father at the door. Silence permeates the room as you turn and let your feet dangle from the bed, your eyes focusing on the lying form of Shanks. 

“Dad,” you start. “I know you don't want to talk about this, and I will respect your wishes, but just hear my opinion, you don't have to say anything!” You add and your father takes a deep breath but doesn't say anything so you take that as consent for you to continue. “You're young and very active. These episodes keep you from living a normal, fulfilling life. Dr. Trafalgar said that the benefits are far more than the risks and I think you should consider the surgery.”

The door opens up and Kaya comes in with a bright hello and a smile. “Think about it, dad.” You finish as Kaya stands at your side with a tray of equipment to relieve you of all the paraphernalia attached to your body. 

“So, how are we feeling?” She asks you as she swiftly disconnects the empty IV from your arm. 

You sigh and give her a lopsided smile. “I'm feeling better, Kaya, thank you.”

“Aaaaaand?” She giggles at you and your brows scrunch at her. “Dr. Trafalgar?”

You feel your cheeks grow hot, even if you will them not to. “He's very competent. He explained to me everything about my father's condition. He's very professional. I'm impressed.” As you admit this, you realise that maybe you should apologise to him for your earlier behaviour but maybe he's with another patient now. 

“That's not where I was going.” She pouts at you. “He's single, you know?”

You wince as she takes out the needle in your vein and puts a bandaid over it. “That's… okay, I guess.” You don't really know what to say. Kaya seems to be trying to set you up, but you really don't want to think about men at this moment. 

“You're impossible!” She mutters your name as she shakes her head and removes the melted ice pack from your ankle. “There, you're done. I'll take care of your father and you both can leave.”

-*-

Penguin and Shachi insisted on taking your father to the car themselves and you were at the desk with Kaya, settling the payment and documents. You were exhausted. Physically and mentally. The news about Shanks had left you preoccupied and you were having trouble processing. 

As Kaya finished inserting some data on the computer, you sighed deeply and pressed the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb, closing your eyes and trying to suppress the growing throb in your head. 

Suddenly, you feel a presence on your side as a deep voice fills the air. “Are you feeling well?”

Opening your eyes and forcing a weary smile on your lips you slightly nod. “Just the culmination of all the exciting events of today, I guess. A throbbing headache.” You shrug. 

Dr. Trafalgar takes out a set of keys from his pocket and goes behind Kaya opening one of the cabinets and taking out two pills from one container. Then he goes to the water dispenser and fills a cup. 

“Give me your hand.” You open your palm as he sets the pills there, lightly brushing his long fingers against your skin. “Take them. It will relieve the pressure on your head.” You set the pills in your mouth. “Water.” He hands the cup to you and you drink it. Then he reaches into his pocket and takes out a wrapped onigiri. “Then eat this.” You reply with a meek ‘okay’. “Good girl.”

He smirks and you nearly choke to death on another sip of water. Then you burst out laughing and you notice that the smirk is still adorning his lips. Surprisingly, he laughs along with you and you are forced to admit that the way his deep voice slurred with the words ‘good girl’ made your knees buckle and your body tingle in very unholy places. 

“I'm sorry.” You start, as soon as the laughter dies down. “For overreacting earlier.”

“It's alright. I will blame your reaction on your abnormal state.” He says cheekily and you smirk back at him. 

“By the way, do you carry all your fainting patients in bridal style?”

He scratches the back of his head and looks down, seemingly embarrassed. “Just the cute ones.” The blush spreads from your cheeks to your nose and you're left speechless. Where had the stoic doctor gone? There seemed to be a cheeky flirt in his stead, did he have a twin?

“Thank you, Dr. Trafalgar, for everything.” You decide to finish the conversation there since you're liking it way too much, which can turn very dangerous. 

He nods. “It's Law.” You raise your brow at him. “My name, call me Law.”

“Law. Thanks.” His smirk turns into a slight smile that traps your gaze as you breathe slowly. Single, right? How? 

Kaya’s soft harumph seems to wake you both from your trance and Law excuses himself with work he has to do. “Don't be a stranger.” He adds and then wishes you and your father well before leaving. You sigh as you turn to Kaya, who's watching you with a knowing look and a very silly smile. 

“This was rom/com happening in real life, I swear. Girl, I'm dying here. You need to go on a date with him!” She squeals. “I don't think I've ever heard him laugh!”

“I'm not going on any date, Kaya.” You say, deadpan as you accept the receipts she hands you. “I'm off men at the moment, thank you very much.”

“Yeah we all heard your father. Sorry about your fiancé thing… Though maybe it was better to find out before the wedding actually happened!”

You nod. You couldn't agree more, actually. “I'm going to go now. Dad and I both need rest.”

You and Kaya exchange phone numbers, not wanting to fall out of touch with her, and wave goodbye. The exhaustion is taking its toll on you and you still have to try and convince your father to agree to the surgery. Maybe you'll leave that fight to another day, though. 

As you walk to the truck you unwrap the onigiri and take a small bite. It tastes homemade. Delicious. 

As scrumptious as Dr. Trafalgar Law, actually. 

No, nope. Not gonna happen. You shake your head as you take your seat ready to face the challenge of driving with a stick yet again. And somehow, between driving with a stick and trying to avoid thinking about Dr. Law, the first one seems like an easier challenge.

[themculibrary]

Bruce/Betty Masterlist

[don't count the miles] (ao3) - Feather (lalaietha) G, 2k

Summary: She ends up talking about it to Natasha Romanoff one evening, over very Italian coffee in the shell of what will eventually be Natasha's floor.

[not my ugly side] (ao3) - Feather (lalaietha) G, 4k

Summary: The fight technically starts over coffee - specifically, over who needs to get up and refill the coffee cups - and then it sort of mushrooms from there. Or maybe branches out is a better way of describing it, because it gets way the hell and gone off topic pretty quick, rapidly covering the ground of "but I always get the coffee" and moving onto "maybe we should ask Tony for one of those Nespresso machines" and from there escalating happily up into every single one of Betty's instincts screaming that there has got to be a catch to that, even if her logic has basically accepted there isn't, mixing uncomfortably with all of the irrational discomfort with asking for more stuff that she'll never be rid of, jumping track over to whether or not they're being wasteful, and finally the volume dials itself up until Bruce stands up from the table with his hands on his hips and half-shouts, "And this isn't even about the coffee, is it?"

accidentally family (ao3) - Katsuko T, 2k

Summary: As odd as the statement may be, it was a simple series of accidents that had made their little family what it was. Or, how the Banners accidentally became the Banners.

After the End (ao3) - copperbadge T, 3k

Summary: "You looking for someone?" "A friend. My friend Bruce. I came here to find him."

An Unforgettable Day (fanfiction.net) - Aboodash56 T, 1k

Summary: One-shot story. After the defeat of Thanos and the death of Thunderbolt Ross, Bruce and Betty decide to start anew with their lives together.

background (ao3) - seekingsquake past bruce/betty G, 1k

Summary: Bruce's life revolved around her, even after she had gone.

breadcrumbs (ao3) - irnan G, 2k

Summary: Betty is aware that this is not going to work unless she can come up with a better plan than calling up the Pentagon and asking if they can direct her to a scientist who occasionally turns into a giant green monster, a specific one, she didn't just wake up this morning with a craving, she's actually his girlfriend, so would they mind very kindly putting her through... ?

Tempting, just to hear the reaction on the other end, but Bad Plan. For one thing, she's not sure the Pentagon knows jack squat about... well, anything. It seems expedient to take a different approach.

cracks (ao3) - seekingsquake G, 6k

Summary: Bruce has never been able to take a breather. The team reminds him that he’s not on the run anymore.

Feel Like Home (ao3) - Trumpeteer34 G, 22k

Summary: Six months after the Invasion of New York, Betty receives a phone call.

Forces of Nature (ao3) - seekingsquake T, 5k

Summary: Twenty five years is a long time to be at opposite ends, but the earth and the ocean never did play well together.

I'm With Stupid (ao3) - intangible_girl T, 2k

Summary: He never thought he'd miss kissing this much. He'd enjoy it more if he didn't have a big, green backseat passenger to worry about.

Bruce comes home to Betty after the events of the Avengers.

Missed Connections (ao3) - Chaibelle bruce/betty, pepper/tony G, 2k

Summary: Bruce wonders where Betty was during the attack on New York. Meanwhile, Betty is looking for a doctor in Calcutta...

Shifting Gears (ao3) - seriousfic clint/natasha, bruce/betty T, 7k

Summary: Okay, I didn't hate AoU like a lot of people and I'm not an ardent shipper of Clintasha, but I thought it'd be fun to experiment with a Clintasha/Bruce&Betty rewrite of AoU, just as a writing exercise, sticking largely with the established storyline.

Small Acts of Defiance (ao3) - icarus_chained bruce/betty, pepper/tony T, 4k

Summary: So, Tony might have kidnapped the love of Bruce's life. In his defense, she was totally cool with that.

Small Comforts (ao3) - lucdarling G, 1k

Summary: Sometimes it's heroes who need a hug most of all.

Sticky Notes (ao3) - blacKatDP G, 2k

Summary: It's been months since Bruce Banner gave up his humanity to save her, but he keeps coming back to her in little, green pieces.

The Letter (ao3) - copperbadge M, 2k

Summary: Bruce is a great scientist, a hell of a letter-writer, and kind of an idiot in certain other respects.

the love lab (ao3) - anthropologicalhands pepper/tony, jane/thor, bruce/betty T, 3k

Summary: His teammates are getting a little too frisky in the lab. Tony tries to set boundaries.

these walls are paper thin (ao3) - IamShadow21 T, 13k

Summary: When most people think of Bruce Banner and The Hulk, they think of it as an either/or situation and assume that it’s easy to tell who they’re face to face with.

Most people are wrong.

Thirteen Years Later (ao3) - Blizzard_Fire M, 4k

Summary: Tony slung an arm over Bruce's shoulders. ‘Green bean here just got his first date in thirteen years.’

‘Ah!’ Thor clapped his hands in delight. ‘Who is the fortunate one?’

‘It’s Betty,’ Bruce said reluctantly.

Natasha's eyebrows shot up. ‘Betty as in the Betty?’

[benkyoutobentou]

31 Days of Productivity Reading: Day One

Before: I’ve been looking forward to this day, March first, specifically for this little reading challenge! I’ve been “saving” my books to read, which is at once a habit that I do often when something like this comes up and something I know I should kick the habit of. It’s not like I’ll run out of things to read. Ever. But to start out, let’s do a quick rehash of my goals for the month (don’t worry, this’ll be the only time I do this):

Finish No. 6 volume 3

Read 憎らしい彼

Read another novel (today I’m leaning towards 独り舞. Tomorrow? Who knows)

Read at least ten volumes of manga

Read at least an hour per day

[I'm putting the rest under a read more because it ended up being unusually long. ごめんね！]

For today’s plans, I’m going to walk to the library and get a bit of studying done. I’m in a huge Mandarin study mood and I think the long walk will be good for me, both mentally and physically. I’ll also probably read a bit at the library after I’ve finished studying. I’m starting off the month with No. 6 and if I still have some left over reading energy at the end of the day, I’ll probably read ウツボラ (下). I read the first volume a super long time ago, and as much as I adore the manga of 中村明日美子 this one was way above my level when I tried it last. I usually find her manga to be on the more difficult side, but I also always find that the stories are worth the effort.

I’ve seen some people on YouTube time themselves reading when they do reading challenges, so I’ll probably try that out, even if I doubt that I’ll actually do it for the whole month… It would also be interesting to have a more accurate idea of my reading speed in Japanese, and to be able to see if that changes over the course of the month.

After: In a series of unfortunate events, I didn’t end up reading at all at the library because I probably spent thirty minutes looking for my hold book and still couldn’t find it (they filed my name wrong, the paper slipped to where you couldn’t see the name on it, and the spine of the book is a completely different color than the cover). And since I walked, I didn’t want to walk home in the dark.

Mildly related notes- I can’t go anywhere without my dog begging for a walk, so I had to take her out before I could walk to the library myself. I also found it mildly amusing that the chapter I started at the library was library themed.

One hour update: My reading pace is (so far), pretty much exactly where I thought it was, which is about five minutes per page, give or take. Luckily, I've honed in to my reading weakness. Unfortunately, it's a big category. Vocabulary. Vocabulary is my weak point in studying and I go through phases in which I study a ton of flashcards or none at all. I know that I need to get back on my JPDB game, but. Ough. I'm just glad that I usually don't find any issues with grammar, and my reading speed when I know the words really isn't all that bad (as far as I'm concerned).

Final report: For the day, I've read about two hours and ten minutes give or take (I accidentally reset the timer eight minutes in) and nearly finished the chapter I was on of No. 6, completing about thirty ages in that time. I didn't get to reading any manga today, but that's fine. I would like to finish the chapter before I go to bed since I only have ten pages left, but that's still another hour of reading (hopefully less, since most of it seems to be dialogue) and it's getting late, hence why I'm updating now and not when I actually stop reading for the day. Night owl problems. Finishing the chapter would also put me at nearly halfway through the book. God I love short books! As usual, this series is wonderful and I always have a great time whenever I pick it up.

[adultswim2021]

Tim & Eric Nite Live #11: “Eric's Gone” | February 26, 2008 | S01E11

We open without the standard introduction. Tim somberly reads a statement that Eric has filed a restraining order against Tim. Tim vows to find common ground with Eric very soon. He asks David Liebe Hart to perform a song about unity and peace. James Quall performs a stand-up comedy routine. David Liebe Hart can be heard chuckling, sportively. I often associate DLH and Quall as being some kind of duo because they are (or were?) neighbors, and you can find pre-Tim-and-Eric clips of DLH’s public access show where Quall is a participant. But this is maybe the only time I can think of where you can sense any kind of actual camaraderie between them; I feel like DLH is often seen throwing Quall under the bus. 

Finally, Richard Dunn reads a hopeful poem about the show. DLH awkwardly ad-libs as his puppet as Tim ends the show. The entire episode is about 5 and half minutes long. We get a text crawl reading that “...Nite Live returns 3/4/08 …. Tune in 3/11/08 for the Season Finale.” In fact, Nite Live did return on March 4th, but there was no episode on March 11th. 

I don’t remember tuning in live for this, but I had friends who did. You couldn’t help but feel a little cheated to not get an actual episode. I rarely tuned in live myself because my internet connection wasn’t terribly strong and it was just too tortuous having it start and stop constantly. I opted to view the archive, which I knew how to rip from the site and watch without interruption. And that’s this episode, everyone. I respect it’s place in the mosaic of the Tim & Eric Nite Live show, but I can’t help but wonder if there was a practical purpose for it? Was Eric planning to be out of town? Like the last episode, I wonder if they actually did this live. No reason to believe they didn’t, but there’s no real reason for them being live at this point. Who knows!

This has been great for me. I only had to watch five minutes of television today! It’s practically a day off! WOWIE! I’m going to spend the entire afternoon masturbating! See you later everyone! 

EPHEMERA CORNER:

12 Oz. Mouse: The Complete Series DVD (February 29, 2008) 

Oh. Uh, I don’t know if anyone else remembers this, but I think I promised in a somewhat off-handed way that I intended to watch the movie when we got to the 12 Oz. Mouse DVD. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, it’s this: 

12 Oz. Mouse came out on DVD and was released exclusively through the Williams Street Store, which sold exclusive Adult Swim merchandise. Instead of including the individual episodes, show creator Matt Maiellaro prepared a new version with all the episodes stitched together as a big long movie. That meant dropping the opening sequence all but once and closing credits, cleaving away significant portions of the “Auraphull” episode, and producing new transitions between episodes that needed it. It flows well together, honestly. There were some other minor tweaks, and you also missed out on some of the post-credits tags.

Many people were oblivious that these DVD releases even happened, but I was very aware, and would check their site periodically to make sure I didn’t miss out. I got this, and I got the Lucy: Daughter of the Devil DVDs, among others. Times got and remained tight, so I sold both of those for obscene amounts of money. One time I almost sold my Space Ghost Volume 4 & 5 DVDs on eBay, but then became handsomely employed and took them both off eBay immediately. We’re currently in a will-they-won’t-they tête-à-tête.

Around the time I got this, I had suffered a hernia, which went undiagnosed after two different hospital visits. It was causing problems at work, as I’d call in late or go home early just from being in severe abdominal pain. One day I woke up and there was a noticeable bulge in my pelvic region, as well as the severe pain. I called completely out of work to go to the emergency room, and they actually gave me shit for it. Long story short I was rushed into emergency surgery.

My parents came to get me because I was supposed to drive home for a funeral that evening. I brought this DVD with me, anticipating a short stay at home while I recuperated. I remember stopping in at Best Buy to buy the new Human Giant Season One DVD, which I was mostly getting for the commentary tracks. The commentary tracks were hilarious, but laughing caused me actual physical pain after healing from surgery. So I switched to watching this. 

This was how I actually first experienced watching the entire series of 12 Oz. Mouse. I caught a couple random episodes before this, but decided the best way to experience this as a whole was to watch the movie cut. Imagine being deprived of hearing that bitchin’ theme song 19 times! I did that to myself! Voluntarily! 

I don’t really have much to say about the movie. I do think that they are roughly equal experiences. I did genuinely watch this again before this post, but it predictably had a hard time holding my attention. I like the show’s vibe and I can get into it. But if I told you I didn’t use it as an opportunity to organize files on my computer then brother, look alive, you’ve got a thing or two to learn about (does a backflip) ME! 

The extras included a soundtrack (found on the DVD itself) and promos and probably other stuff I’m forgetting. If you can find it online, you should download it.

[perfecttenth]

I think I've set my bias about Chaos and Ultimate Tag aside for now. From the looks of it they're taking a drastically different approach to the time choujin, so I'm really curious about how they're going to implement them into the ongoing storyline.

But I'm still surprised they're going back to them so soon, considering that the Revival started releasing not even 4 months after Ult Tag ended and Yudetamago probably were already working on it by the time they were finishing up the Young Masters vs. Five Disasters match.

It's all kind of pointing towards the 2011 run ending with this story arc. Granted I thought the manga would end with the defeat of the 12 Choushin, because what greater antagonists could they come up with beyond the choujin gods themselves? Although given that they intended the Revival to connect into Nisei as early as right before its serialization started, it'd make sense that the final villains would be the time choujin. I've heard theories about the series concluding with a time reset that'd lead to Nisei's timeline, but wow I really hope that doesn't happen. The Revival has already wrapped up so many loose ends and improved so many characters, it'd feel like a rug pull if things went back to the way they were.

The original 36 volumes were released over an 8 year span, while the Revival alone has been running for 12 years (14 if you include Vol. 37). That's almost as long as base Nisei and Ult Tag combined, which made up 13 years of Yude's career. Assuming they're gonna take at least as long as the Perfect Origin Arc to establish and defeat the Five Great Times & the God of Time IN ADDITION to resolving the energy imbalance crisis and The One's reformation plan and Satan and what have you, then the Revival is on its way to become the longest running Kinnikuman sub-series (Yeah it's a part of the original run, but at this point it's its own thing). Obviously the Revival doesn't have the problem that Ult Tag had where a single story arc had to be stretched out over 28 volumes, but I'm a bit worried if it'll face similar longevity problems, since the Choushin arc felt kinda dull and unclear plot-wise until The Man's and The One's exposition dump.

The time choujin's designs so far don't really do it for me, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to find out more about them. Fanatic stealing Psychoman's appearance and mannerisms feels offensive as hell, but that's exactly what makes him so intriguing. Did the God of Time deliberately clone him from his hat or something? The Exocet Missiles were amazing too, I just hope we'll get to see Aristera and Pirateman in action again. Wonder if they're also gonna bring back the concept of complete choujin, even though that'd require them to bring back Lightning and Thunder as well.

[hotchnerxo]

The chances you take: Chapter 15

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x single mom!reader

Summary: You've barely had a chance to see Hotch after the new years eve. But you've planned on talking with him after all the annual paperwork is done. Although, more important manners rise up.

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: A case involving a dissapearance of a child (does not and will not include violence of any kind), angst with hurt/comfort.

A/N: Because I can't let things get too happy ( yet ).

Join my taglist

Series masterlist

~

Chapter 15: Doubts

Ever since the event, you haven’t been sure what to think. You’re really not sure if you’re ready to date yet. Adjusting to a new rhythm with Ella has taken its toll on both of you; not knowing when you’re going to be gone for a few hours and when it’s going to be days on end. Every moment you’re off the clock, you’re at home with your daughter or sleeping. Is there any room there for him? And Jack? And it’s not like he has a lot more free time anyway. His schedule is even more hectic than yours. Would trying this out only be a recipe for another heartbreak and therefore even cause problems for your friendship as well as your ability to work with him. 

But on the other hand, it’s him. He’s such a wonderful guy and he understands the limitations the work might bring. He’s also a parent and the kids get along great. He’s so sweet and he’s not one to scare away easily by any baggage you have. Would there be hope for you? Or is it insane to even entertain yourself with the idea of you and him together?

What’s even more frustrating is the fact that you’ve barely seen him all week at work. And there’s so much to do. Apparently it’s the same every first couple of weeks after new years. Every report and casefile needs to be perfected and evaluated from the previous year. And as this is your first year of doing this, it’s taking you forever. 

But it’s not his fault, he’s barely spent five minutes in his office, when he is already needed somewhere by someone. And you’ve texted with him a couple of times about wanting to talk about everything face to face at the end of the week. It’s certainly a conversation the both of you prefer to have in person rather than through text. 

It’s just annoying not having him around. And when you find yourself thinking that more and more; you know your feelings are much deeper than you at first thought. You like seeing him when he’s working inside his office and at times when he comes down for more coffee, the way he mindlessly nos down the stairs is somehow adorable. Or when he comes back from a meeting, he looks over towards his team and you see him smile softly as your eyes meet with him. 

But today, he’s been too stressed to even think about anything else but the next thing on his to do list. 

Your mind wanders to him throughout the day, like it has all week. A loud ring from your work phone next to you drags you back to the moment. 

“Agent (Y/L/N)” you answer the phone, trying to sound less tired than you feel. 

“Hey (Y/N), it’s me” it takes you embarrassingly long for you to realize it’s your mother on the other end of the line. “Is El with you?” 

“What?” The mention of your daughter makes everything else in your head quiet down.  “No. Why?” 

“Are you sure?”

“Am I su- Yes I am sure mom” you hear panic in your voice before you realize the feeling in your body. Agents near you have turned to look at you due to a sudden volume change. “What’s going on?” 

“(Y/N)” she starts quietly but you can tell her voice is starting to shake “I’m at the daycare. She’s not here anymore”. 

You’re glad to be sitting down as you are starting to realize what she means by that. “How is that possible? Only you, dad or me are allowed to pick her up. And she wouldn’t go with anyone else, would she?” you ask, not sure if it was directed more to your mom or yourself, trying to get a grasp of the situation as quickly as possible. 

As your mom goes to explain, you’ve already put the phone on speaker and found Hotchner from your contacts. Despite the shaking of your hands, you type up a message ‘Call me, asap’. 

“Mom, I need you to stay there. I’ll have someone come over there as soon as possible” you tell her and turn to look towards Morgan and Jennifer who have come to stand beside you, waiting for an order. You grab a post it note and write down the address for the day care: thank god you’ve memorized it from your countless trips there. You’re not sure if your handwriting is readable, but it’ll do and as you hand it over, the agents nod and are already on their way. 

You’ve never been as relieved to see Hotchner’s name pop up on your screen as an upcoming call as you are right now. “Morgan and Jareau are going to be there soon, they will have badges. Only speak to them. I have to go” you don’t wait for her to respond before switching calls. “Where are you?” you ask him immediately, there’s no time for greetings.

A bit baffled by your tone, he responds dryly “Middle of a meeting. What’s wrong?” 

“Ella’s missing” Once you word it out like that, you are starting to realize that this is actually happening. Your little girl is missing; someone else picked her from daycare and she might be in danger. 

The two seconds you wait for him to answer have never felt so long. “I’ll be right there” he says and hangs up the phone. 

Spencer’s stayed next to you until this point. He’s not sure what to do or say, but to be there with you and wait for Hotch to get here. You look at him, desperation written all over you and he looks just as helpless as you feel. Without saying a word, you step back and soon find yourself running towards Hotch’s still empty office. Your thoughts are clouded, nothing seems to make sense at this stage of panic. All you can think about is getting to his office because he will know what to do. 

Once you enter the office, you’re greeted with silence. It’s in neat order, as it always is, but for some reason the order makes you even more on edge. Your mind feels full and cluttered, control is not a word you know right now. And as inviting the couch seems, your nerves don’t let you sit down and all you can do is pace back and forth. 

“Hey” you hear his voice before he even enters the office. His breath was quicker than usual, he rushed to you as fast as he could; a budget meeting could wait. “Tell me what happened” his hand hovers next to your arm, as if he’s ready to catch you and reassure you that he’s really there. 

You try to explain, but only a whimper comes out. You feel yourself crumbling under the panic.

“Here. Please, sit down for a moment” his hand has gently grasped on your arm and he helps you to the couch. You slump down on to the seat and bury your face into your hands. Aaron pulls a chair for himself and comes to sit close to you. His hand rests on your elbow, thumb soothingly running on your arm. He knows time is the most important factor when it comes to cases with kids, but rushing you through this will only hurt more. 

After giving you a few moments to calm your breath, he speaks again “Tell me what happened”. 

“My mom went to pick up Ella from the daycare” you sniffle, looking down at your hands “She said she wasn’t there anymore”. 

Calmly and patiently, he asks you all the routine questions he needs for an amber alert. You’ve asked these same questions from parents of missing kids, but you never thought you’d be the one to answer these questions yourself about your own daughter. 

3 years old, you put her hair on braids today, Frozen shirt and blue leggings and her favorite butterfly sneakers. She’s shy, might not respond to strangers, even police officers. 

“I hate having to ask these” Aaron admits silently after you’ve answered the questions for the alert. His soft and compassionate tone and voice are soothing and calming your panic. His presence helps you see things more clearly again and organize your thoughts. “Let me call this in. Just try to breathe, okay?” he says and you nod, promising to try your best. 

It takes him a minute or two to rely the information on, but not for a second does he leave your side. And once he lowers his phone, his attention is back to you. 

“You did so good, okay? Everyone will be on this and we’ll find her, I promise you that. But I need you and I need that brain of yours” you take a deep breath and raise your teary eyes to look up to him. His gaze is warm and it gives you the energy to nod and try to organize your thoughts. “I’m right here with you”. 

His support and presence means more than you could ever put into words. And he knows what to do, he always knows what to do and you would trust your life in his hands. 

“I should be out there looking for her” you raise your voice in frustration but Aaron’s patience doesn’t run out on you. “I should be out there”. 

“Trust me, I know. But Morgan and JJ are at the daycare, Reid and Garcia are making the alert and Rossi is working with the officers. And right now, you and I are going to think this through” he says as calmly as he can, hoping it will help and calm you down as well. 

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t be the first one out of that door if it was about Jack” you last out and jump up to your feet and return to pace back and forth. 

Aaron gets up as well from his chair. There’s something else in his expression, something that you don’t recognize while trying to navigate through your own rollercoaster of emotion. 

The sadness and regret in his heart weigh heavy “That’s exactly what I did and it got Jack’s mother killed” you stop your pacing and turn to look at him again. 

You knew that Haley died a few years ago by the Reaper. You’ve read his profile many times, but you don’t know every detail. Was he threatening Jack? But right now it looks like there’s still a lot of guilt in him for what happened and he’s trying to make sure his mistakes aren’t repeated. 

But you look at him with pleading eyes. Only thinking of Ella – and now, Jack being in a similar position before – makes your eyes water. “Then what? What can I do from here?” 

“We need to think back, figure this out. I’m right here with you” he’s standing so close to you again and you just wish to wrap your arms around him and hug him; hope that all of this is just a dream or a result from miscommunication. You nod, not sure what to say. ���Who else is allowed to pick Ella up from the daycare?”

First day at the daycare, you remember signing the paperwork and filling different forms for your daughter. Her normal information, like date of birth etc. but also allergies, possible medications. You also had to fill out things like who to contact if something happens and people that are allowed to pick her up, alongside of their contact information. You put up your parents as additional contacts and safe adults to the contract and you tell him that too. 

But it takes you a second to think back to when you dropped her off today “But today” you start and find yourself searching for support from his desk that’s now behind you “when I went to drop her off, I was greeted by a temp”. Aaron can almost hear the speed of your brain as you try to think “There were two teachers sick today, so they were filling in. They must have been the ones to sign her out; they might not have been aware of the contract”. 

“That would mean” Hotch leaves his sentence open ended, trying to help you piece it together. 

“That would mean that Ted picked her up” you gasp and all of the sudden it all starts to make sense. “Because no one would question it if he says he’s Ella’s dad and he’s there to pick her up”. 

“Would Ella go with him? Has she seen him before?” 

“As much as I’d like to say no,” you try to think what your little girl would do. “Ted would find a way to get her to go. And if the temps don’t know Ella-” 

Aaron nods understandingly. She’s only 3 years old and she’s shy. If Ted told her that he’s going to take her to see her mom or something similar, she might go without questioning it. 

“Aaron” you start but the rest of your words die down. But he understands exactly what you’re desperate to hear. 

“We’ll find her. I promise” and you believe him.

Taglist: @ahouseforhermitcrab @sinamew @lukeclvez @thebaileybugle @louderfortheback @skyler666 @lejlapvlc @14buddy22@anlin2058 @pandorasdreamings @newlydevouthotchgirl @whoreslovehotch @mrslizzyolsen @wheelsupkels @ssamorganhotchner @lilozg-123 @uraverage-virgowh0re@sarahfortin6201 @chaoticconnoisseurgiver @scargarcia-magshotchner @rousethemouse @sweetstrangermldadsblog@no-1martinipolice @marauderssimpcuzwhytfnot @mochamori @Ruler_Of_The_Awesome

[milfzatannaz]

So you want to collect Sandman

Hi there! This post is a very loose and simple explanation of the multiple different versions of Sandman you can buy. The upside to how popular the series is is that there’s so many different printings!

This is not a reading guide. This is a buying guide. I buy most of my books from actual comic shops, because I’m an avid believer in supporting them locally, but a lot of Barnes and Nobles carry the series in different capacities! You can also use Amazon, although I personally will do that as my last resort for ethical reasons.

Trade paperbacks

There are ten trade paperbacks in the main series and ones for Overture and Endless Nights and other add on stories. These trades are the simplest and cheapest single editions, and only encompass one arc each-the series having been broken up into 10 distinct volumes originally. Notice they have titles. Consider them like chapters if that’s more approachable. They’re great if you want to buy one at a time, and are more portable for on the go reading.

Prices- 17.99$ - 29.99$ depending

Also in the trade category are volumes that condense 2-3 arcs each, which I’ve seen at Barnes and Noble. They’re broken up into “books”. There are five of these. There’s a Barnes and Noble exclusive cover, if you’re into that.

Here’s mine, for size reference. (It’s also signed hehe) they’re a little thick but not huge.

Prices- 29.99$ -35.99$

Fancy Editions

What’s so fun for me when I’m collecting Sandman is the really cool editions you can get. As a comic collector, I mostly stick to trades. But I LOVE splurging when I can on bound and special versions.

These are the Absolute Editions and Deluxe Editions. The Absolute ones are gorgeous. There are 5 for the series, and one extra for Death’s stories. They’re tall, have wonderful binding, great paper quality, and have their own bookmarking ribbons. The deluxe editions are smaller, but can still be bought in hardback. They have their own exclusive covers.

Prices-

Absolute Edition: these fluctuate A LOT. A good starting range is 90$-100$ but used copies can be bought way cheaper. I saw one as low as 75$. Keep this in mind if you set your sights on these. Deluxe Edition: 34.99$ -49.99$

The Omnibus

These are HUGE! There are four, and volumes 1 and 2 collect the entire 75 issues, the other two volumes collecting other stories in canon, like Death and Lucifer’s minis, or Endless Nights. These are the heaviest of the books you can get, but I like having the whole run in two large books, because I own volumes 1 and 2 personally.

Prices- These also vary, probably more so than the absolute editions. You can expect to pay anywhere from 90$-200$, depending. I got my first one for Christmas, and at the time, they were a little hard to find, especially volume 2. They were sold out online till the spring. Bear this in mind if you plan on getting these, because if you see one in person I’d jump and get it. My comic shop really couldn’t keep them in stock long.

The Annotated Sandman

These aren’t as widely talked about, but they’re wonderful for any collector. I have the first one. Leslie Kinger collaborated with Neil to provide extra commentary and even script tidbits alongside the black and white inks. The info provided is super interesting and really adds depth to canon! They’re nice and wide, perfect for viewing.

Prices- These are pretty standard at 49.99$ but I’ve seen them as low as 27$ on eBay.

Final Notes

If you want some of the more rare and expensive copies, I highly recommend eBay! You can get box sets and even original single issues there. AbeBooks is great too for used copies.

Here’s my collection, for anyone who is curious. My personal favorite is my Absolute Death, but I adore my signed copy of course.

[augustheart]

Also thank you SO MUCH for the comic recommendations, I'm going to bee looking into those for sure! Are there any others you personally like that you wish someone else would read?

i'll reiterate the ones i said there just because it was in a reply and this way more people will have context even though you've obviously already seen it: i recommended the wrong earth and the wrong earth: night and day by tom peyer and jamal igle, dial h for hero by sam humphries and joe quinones, wonder twins by mark russell and stephen byrne, and martian manhunter by steve orlando and riley rossmo.

more recs!

astro city by kurt busiek:

anthology comic, so it's hard to give a complete summary. most arcs don't last more than three issues, making it a comic that's really easy to read. it has some of the best bottle stories i've ever read; my personal favorite is #16, titled "wish i may..." which was incredibly comforting to me during a very difficult time in my life and follows a superhero on the anniversary of her predecessor's death. #42, which is about a pastiche of black manta, #14-15, about a woman who adopts and fixes robots, are also standouts.

secret six vol. 4 (2015) by gail simone:

i'm not gail simone's biggest fan. but this series makes me go up the wall. if you're interested, i do also recommend her previous two secret six volumes, but this one requires no past continuity since it's from the n52. the pitch: the mysterious mockingbird has kidnapped six (and a half?) individuals and left them in a coffin to die. of course escape is the next logical step--but what is the secret behind their capture, and which one of them knows more than they're letting on?

blue beetle vol. 7 (2006) by john rogers

listen. this is one of the best comics ever written. it's one of the longer ones on this list--rogers' proper run goes from #1 to #25, and if you want to keep going until the end i'm definitely not going to stop you even if there is a dip in quality. (i'm fond of #28, though.) it's definitely one of those comics you can't put down once you start it. it's utterly excellent. the strength of this comic doesn't just lie in its incredible characterization of its main character, newest blue beetle jaime reyes, but in the way it builds the world around him and especially the characters he befriends. cape comics don't get much better than this. the pitch: after the events of infinite crisis, jaime reyes crashes back down to earth. but as much as he wants to go back to living a normal life, the alien technology fused to his back means he's not only one of the most dangerous people alive, but one of the only people the world can count on to save it.

justice league of america's vibe by sterling gates

geoff johns and andrew kreisberg get the credit for this one, but sterling gates is who truly helmed this book, so my personal accolades fall on him. look, this isn't the best comic i've ever read. but there's a reason it's stuck with me for so long. it's a breezy read at only ten issues, follows characters that you fall in love with before you've even realized it's happening, and will make you ask why the hell this story was never continued. the pitch: five years after darkseid attempted to invade earth, argus sets its sights on one of the people most affected by the attack--eighteen-year-old cisco ramon, who was left world-breaking powers and saw his brother's life taken in return the day the parademons arrived. but what are their real plans for him? and what's lying in wait for him beneath the city of detroit if he fails?

superman: secret identity by kurt busiek

oh look, there's kurt busiek again. this comic is quick and simple and doesn't overstay its welcome. while you can read its sister series, batman: creature of the night, it's not as good and the wait times between when the issues were released mean i unfortunately don't have super cohesive memories of it. this one is just plain good. the pitch: clark kent always thought he was normal. sure, his parents cursed him by naming him after the most famous superhero in the world, and it was a funny coincidence that he fell in love with a woman named lois of all things, but that's all it was. a coincidence. he may have superman's name, but he's just a comic book character. clark doesn't actually have powers... right?

[frostedfaves]

Haunt (1)

Masterlist

Pairing: civilian!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Impeccable timing brings you and Wanda together.

Warnings: ghosts/demons, haunting, Ultron who?

A/N: as we get later into the series, the level of exposed I feel is only going to increase. I may or may not have put some of my own feelings into this one, which I usually do anyway, but this is a super personal thing that it took me a while to even tell my closest friend so...be gentle with me. and leave feedback!

**click here to be added to the taglist!!**

-

The rhythmic chopping of the knife through vegetables on the cutting board echoed through the sunlit kitchen, which was silent aside from the soft music playing through the bluetooth speaker. A grin appeared on Wanda’s lips as she realized she’d begun to mimic the beat of the current song, and if Pietro was here, he’d make his usual joke about her bringing work home. Luckily he wouldn’t be arriving for dinner for another two hours.

“Alexei, hi!” she greeted the tan corgi cheerfully as he padded into the room. “I’m sorry, but I can’t share any of this with you. The vet said you’re allergic to paprika, remember?”

An adoring smile was thrown Alexei’s way as he settled into one of his many beds to watch her cook. The vegetables were placed in a container near the stovetop as she headed to grab the aforementioned spice, sighing when she opened the cabinet and spotted the nearly empty jar.

“Can I trust you not to make a mess while I’m gone?” she asked Alexei as she faced him, chuckling when he raised his head from his paws with a curious tilt. “That’s what I thought.”

She quickly covered the food that was already prepped for the nonstick skillet resting on the stovetop and blew a kiss to her pup on the way out of the kitchen. Her phone and wallet were placed in the pockets of her jeans before she slipped on a hoodie, zipping it with one hand as she grabbed her keys with the other.

Traffic seemed lighter than usual as she made her way toward the main street, and she couldn’t fight the smile that appeared as she passed the many yards of children playing in front lawns. It was the last Saturday before the school year started, and they were determined to get as much time in the sun as they could before being stuck inside for five days a week. Wanda turned left at the end of the block and was just about to pass an alley when someone bumped into her.

-

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

The whispered words seem to echo through the silent apartment at a deafening volume, each one timed perfectly along with every tap of your foot on the floor beside your bed. It was a taunting way of indirectly forcing you to count out the phrase that seemed to inevitably break you.

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

“Please, can I just have one fucking day?” you pleaded as you lifted your head, keeping your gaze away from the corner of the room where the voice was coming from.

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

A few more minutes passed before you grew tired of feeling suffocated, and you jumped off the bed to grab your phone and wallet, sliding them into your pockets before putting on a light hoodie that you zipped up as you walked. You snatched your keys from the hook beside the door before hurrying out of the apartment, locking the door and rushing down the hall and out to the street. Feeling the warm breeze and the sun on your cheeks was a welcoming contrast to the chill of your dark bedroom.

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

You jumped in response to the rushed whisper in your ear, letting out a groan as the words continued to repeat while you took a shortcut through the alleys. Flashes of arms circling your waist and lips melting against yours poured into your mind and you stopped in the middle of the next alley to close your eyes and focus on breathing. The whispers quieted, and you were almost certain you were going to catch a break for once when a car horn went off. Your loud scream was masked by those of the children on the other side of the block as your eyes flew open and you started running, your journey to the sidewalk being cut short by another woman.

“Sorry!” you called out breathlessly as she stumbled back while trying to catch you, and you carefully pulled away with a sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?”

“No no, I’m fine,” she laughed nervously as she fixed her jacket sleeves, her bright smile falling a bit as she met your eyes again. “Are you okay?”

“Also fine.” You averted your gaze with a harsh swallow, suddenly aware of how tired you must look. “Hey, I was headed to the grocery store...Am I going the right way?”

“Yeah!” Her eyes widened and her welcoming grin was restored. “I was actually going there myself if you’d like to walk with me.”

“Sure.”

The two of you turned and began walking side by side toward the busy intersection in silence, your steps seeming to line up perfectly, and you shook your head to clear the memory of those cursed words lining up with the tapping of your foot.

“So I’m not sure if this is too invasive of a stranger to ask but…” You faced the dark-haired woman and she did the same as you began crossing the parking lot. “I noticed you have a bit of an accent. Does that come from somewhere else?”

“Yes,” she answered with a bit of a chuckle. “My parents brought my twin brother and I here from Sokovia when we were 10, just before a bombing destroyed the building we used to live in.”

“Wow, your parents have impeccable timing. But that’s so cool that you have a twin. What’s his name? Well, I’d like to know your name first.”

“I’m Wanda,” she introduced herself with a smile that widened even more when you told her your name while shaking her hand. “And my brother’s name is Pietro.”

“Wait, is your brother Pietro Maximoff, the soccer player?” Your eyebrows raised instantly as she nodded. “My roommate loves soccer and she is obsessed with him. She has a huge Quicksilver poster on the wall above her bed.”

“They call him that because he runs so fast that the players from the opposing team always struggle to keep up.” Her laugh is muffled by the air conditioning as you walk through the automatic doors. “Do you need a cart? I really just came for one thing and maybe a bakery item or something.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just grabbing a few snacks.” 

You take longer than necessary to make your way to the spices, snack aisles and bakery, which gives you a chance to learn about this bright-eyed, kindhearted woman with an accent that made your mind go a bit fuzzy. You found out that she was a music teacher at an elementary school, which sounded a lot more interesting than the job you’d chosen to stick with simply because you needed to pay bills. She was determined to convince you otherwise.

“Wanda, it’s fine!” you insisted as the two of you left the check out line and made your way toward the exit. “I actually prefer boring and normal right now anyway. I haven’t really ever been able to use those words when describing my life before, so this is great.”

You could feel her eyes locked on you as she followed you to the main street, and you waited for her at the corner to cross together, offering her a reassuring smile as the light changed. The two of you were standing in front of her one-story home within a few blocks, and as you took a look at the potted plants on either side of the welcome mat and lantern hung by the door, you couldn’t help but think that you’d be able to figure out this place was hers even if she hadn’t pointed it out.

“Pietro’s coming for dinner tonight if you and your roommate would like to join us,” she told you in a seemingly hopeful tone as she faced you from the steps leading to the porch. “I always make way too much food anyway.”

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

“Um...” You paused to clear your throat. “I actually have plans tonight but maybe I can come back tomorrow afternoon for a movie or something, if you’re not busy. I had fun with you.”

“Yeah, that’ll be great! I wake up pretty early so you can come over whenever.” 

“Okay, cool. Cute dog, by the way.”

You nodded over at the corgi watching you from the window, grinning when Wanda followed your gaze and laughed, and you bid farewell with a simple wave before walking away to finish the trip back to your building. Your smile fell as the whispers began filling your ears again before you even reached the corner of the block, and you wondered how long this situation with Wanda would last before you scared her away.

-

Tags: @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @slut-for-nat @honeyvenable @creepingwolfberry @stickystudentlightmug @choni-trimberly

[captainsimagines]

“I Could Fall in Love”

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I hope you enjoy this little drabble as much as I enjoyed writing it. Cutting it close to midnight on Valentine’s Day but hey, it still counts. xx Moni

BUCKY BARNES X READER DRABBLE

Warnings: none, simply fluff!

Word Count: 3000+

Song Fanfic: Listen and enjoy!

~

     It wasn’t that you hated Valentine’s Day, you just didn’t see it as purely romantic. In your opinion, it was supposed to represent so much more than just romantic love. Friendships, beginnings and endings, the actual historical event, elementary school card giving, baked goods, and a nice dinner for either yourself or in the presence of others. So, no - you didn’t hate it. In fact, you actually quite enjoyed the giddy feeling of seeing other couples go all out for a single day, the sweets that were always available, and the awesome discounts. 

     “Come with us!” Natasha whined, filling up her glass with some oat milk and passing Steve some utensils at the same time. She wasn’t whining excessively, as that wasn’t in her nature, but she did raise her voice as her tone shifted from playful to annoyance. You rolled your eyes and chewed on your bagel, shaking your head dramatically. You plastered on your best grin, but it was overpowered by the massive chunk of bagel in your mouth. So you sat there, stupid bagel-filled grin covering your face, and tiny giggles threatening to escape as Natasha’s face also dropped into a silly one. 

     The rest of the crew was planning on attending a private Valentine’s Day party hosted by a close business partner of Tony’s. It sounded like a lot of fun and a perfect excuse to dress-up, but you had a tiny mission to go on before it. It was not a ‘mission-mission’ so to say- more like a ‘get in, get out, this will literally take two seconds and I could do this any other day’ type of mission. Natasha had given you such a disapproving look when you told her what your actual plans were for tonight, but she expected nothing less. You always had something else up your sleeve. 

     And that you did. 

     Since your mission was a quickie, you would be able to return to the compound before everyone else and bake your special pink cupcakes they all knew and loved. A sweet mixture of vanilla and strawberry, no flavor overpowering the other. You had recently perfected the recipe, only having Natasha and Bucky taste the final product, and because of their genuine surprise and praise, you were ready to bake dozens for everyone proudly.

     She finished her glass and went to wash it. “Still, I think you’re missing out! I hear the food is gonna be great!”

     You shrugged, “Eh, we have food here.”

     You heard Natasha release a tiny scoff, “Please tell me your actual reason before I laugh too loudly and wake everyone up.”

     “I swear, I’ve been putting off this mission for so long that tonight just seemed like the perfect time. Everyone’s occupied- I don’t know. I mean, criminals gotta get laid too, right?”

      Natasha snorted, “That’s very true.” She eyed you suspiciously while drying her glass. 

     “You know, you and Barnes are the only one’s not attending. Obviously, his excuse is that he’s literally on a mission right now but you see my point.”

     “No, I don’t see your point.”

     Natasha smiled, as if secretly knowing your other very valid reason for not attending the party. “We all have dates. You know that if he were here you would be going with him, even as friends. But since you would literally be the only one of us without a date, it seems reasonable you wouldn’t want to attend.”

    Okay, she hit that spot-on. 

    You groaned and lay your arms across the counter dramatically, “Stop, it’s scary how right you are all the time.”

    Natasha laughed and rounded the counter, going over to pat your shoulders. “I’m not making you go. Don’t worry. Just give yourself some self-care and I’ll see you tonight to let you know I got home safe.”

     You nodded and waved goodbye to her, ready to finish the everything bagel you had abandoned. 

          Bucky wasn’t one to dress-up for a night out anymore. He just didn’t have the motivation to do anything unless it involved stake-outs, knitting, painting, and binge-watching some stupid series you were watching. It always happened the same way, too. You would be casually chilling in the main common room of the compound, barely starting the first episode of a new series with stacks of junk food ready for your eager taste buds, when Bucky would randomly come in and ask what you were watching. And the next thing Bucky knew, you two were discussing the hidden elements of The Crown and debating whether a scene actually happened the way it was portrayed. By God, how much Bucky absolutely detested Prince Charles. 

     And you were so determined to knit that sweater for Natasha by her birthday that you came to Bucky’s room five times a day now rather than your usual three. But Bucky was extremely patient, helping you hook the remaining yarn that kept falling off your needles. Each time you pouted over the ‘horrible knot you made’ or when the yarn would tangle, Bucky would grin and tease you about, his stomach twisting pleasurably.

     And each time he would reach over to help you fix it, your heart fluttered ever so slightly. 

     Bucky had actually planned on taking you to that Valentine’s Day party but his mission carried on longer than it was supposed to. Rather than returning a day before the party, he would now be returning towards the middle of it. He wondered if you were still going to go, but he highly doubted it. Not because you had told him explicitly, but because you had joked that if he wasn’t able to go, then ‘why would you bother?’. 

     To see you in that red dress you had jokingly placed over your already clothed body and modeled for him - Yeah, he absolutely hated he was missing this party tonight. 

     His mission had just ended and he was currently on the flight home, resting in his tactical gear but with the headphones you let him borrow in each ear. He chuckled lowly, realizing that most things he had in his possession, whether that be the headphones, hair bands, lotion, and Spotify account, all belonged to you. It brought him some comfort as he fixed himself in his seat, settling on your ‘Love me please?’ playlist to match the special holiday. 

     Lovebug by the Jonas Brothers. Tonight by FM Static. Oh, dozens by Taylor Swift. You’ll Be In My Heart by Phil Collins. And a whole lot of Selena songs. 

     There was one song that caught his attention, as if the title spoke to him. It just made sense. He clicked it, surprised by the upbeat beginning and rhythm of the drums, finally closing his eyes as he heard the melody from the acoustic guitar. 

     He lost count of how many times he replayed that one song as his plane touched land. He quickly woke himself up and gathered his things, ready to jump into a warm shower and watch an episode of The Crown behind your back. The drive to the compound was short and he entered the living quarters somewhat alert. There were no sounds his super soldier ears could hear besides the clicks of keyboards by overtime workers and computers humming. Kind of sad and joyful at once, Bucky realized he was alone for the first time in a long time. Maybe he would try that face mask you had urged him to buy tonight. And those very comfortable pajamas. 

          Ever the procrastinator, you never did go on that mission.

     You were humming along to your Valentine’s playlist as you cracked the eggs into your bowl. You stirred quickly, bowl in your arms and a strike of flour along your unknowing cheek. You had your earphones in, enjoying the solace of such a peaceful night. The mix was coming together nicely and as you waited for the oven to preheat, you took out all of your cupcake supplies to set on the kitchen counter. 

     You could have sworn you heard some noises a few doors down so you took one earphone out to listen closely. At first you heard nothing, but you could have sworn you heard the likes of a toothbrush tapping against a bathroom counter. But as you stood there comically, bowl in your arms and whisk held up like a weapon, you settled on no disturbance. 

     You set the bowl down quietly and ran over to the door, looking down the hallway. Once you saw it was completely empty, you couldn’t contain the grin that spread across your face. You raced back to the kitchen and called for Friday. 

     “Friday? Could you please connect my phone to the living room speakers, please?”

     “Done.”

     You scrolled through your playlist and settled on a song that would for sure damage your vocal cords but delight you nonetheless. 

“I could lose my heart tonight

If you don’t turn and walk away

     You swayed around the kitchen as you traveled to grab each new ingredient, singing at the appropriate level the song called for. 

Because the way I feel I might

Lose control and let you stay

     Bucky had just finished brushing his teeth and putting a warm pair of socks on when he heard Friday play the exact song he had been listening to for the past two hours. At first he wondered if Friday had mistakenly connected his phone to the speakers but realized his phone didn’t even have the Spotify app open. He quickly walked down the cold floors of the hallway, his warm socks somewhat doing their job. He stopped at the living room entrance and leaned his shoulder on the doorway, beaming with a huge grin. 

Because I could, take you in my arms

And never let go

     You twirled around and used the whisk as a microphone, and to both your and Bucky’s surprise, hit every note perfectly. Bucky knew you were a great singer and although he would never admit it, he had heard you singing in the shower quite a few times. It was impossible not to at the level of volume you sang, but each time he would come into your room to grab something random or to ask you a question, he would sit outside the shower door and listen to your angelic voice as it sailed through the steamy air and into Bucky’s ears. But here you were, belting out the exact song Bucky had just learned all the lyrics for on his way home.

I could fall, in love, with you

     It was in that moment that Bucky realized he was in his ‘comfortable pajamas’, which consisted of a loose long sleeve and bottoms set, with a nice dark blue color and white stitching along the pockets and buttons. But the sleeves, incredibly so, were far too long for his arms so he would crunch them up in his palms. And his socks had stripes on them. But he remained still on the door frame, watching you sway to the music and enjoying the scent of your first batch of cupcakes already in the oven.

I could only wonder how touching you

Would make me feel

     You halted immediately when you saw his tall form resting on the door frame, a giant grin plastered on his newly shaven face. You yelped in surprise, putting down the whisk and patting your hands on your little green apron. 

     “Bucky, oh my god! Say something if you’re going to enter a room!”

     Bucky just shrugged, walking over to the kitchen counter, eyes never leaving yours. He leaned over and placed his chin in both his palms, smiling as the music continued playing in the background. “I like this song.”

     You squinted at him, “You know this song?”

     Bucky nodded, holding his hand out now for you to take. “Like I said, I like this song.”

But if I take that chance right now

Tomorrow will you want me still?

     You reached over hesitantly and let Bucky lead you over to the carpet. He wrapped one arm around your waist and rested the other higher up on your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing for his large frame to sway you both to the rhythm of the song. 

     “Nice pajamas.”

     “Shut up.”

     The room was dimly lit, cupcake aroma circling you two, and his snuggly pajamas seemed to also provide you the warmth you were previously getting from the oven. You smiled up at him, low giggles emitting from your lips. He did the same, enjoying the feel of your body pressed up against his. 

So I should, keep this to myself

And never let you know

     “When did you get back?” you asked, reaching up to touch his shaven cheek. You were undoubtedly curious about the feeling.

     Bucky let you roam your hand all over, “About an hour ago. I didn’t think anyone was here.”

     You chuckled, “I am! I told you I wasn’t going to bother going to that party if my plus one wasn’t coming!”

     Bucky lifted his arm and twirled you slowly, happy that you followed his lead. “So, I’m your plus one now?”

     You rolled your eyes, “Always.”

I could fall, in love, with you

     “How did you even hear about this song?” you asked, hands now resting comfortably on Bucky’s chest. He had his arms wrapped around you, hugging you to his chest as you two swayed. 

      “We share a Spotify account, doll.”

     “Yeah, but it’s a love playlist. Were you just in the mood for some ballads and stumbled across this one?”

      “Exactly. It’s quite the tearjerker.”

And I know it’s not right

And I guess I should try

To do what I should do

     He looked so relaxed at this moment, fresh and calm, enjoying the dance he pulled you into. He was resting his chin on the top of your head so you felt his little puffs of air escape his nostrils. And as he breathed in, you could feel his chest rise and lower below your palms. You were tempted to reach up and grab his face, pull him into yourself and share a sweet kiss, but you decided against it. For some reason you knew that this was different. You had snuggled before during naps or binge watching, but they never had a romantic undertone. And if you acted upon your desires, you were frightened it just might ruin your friendship. It took you two years to build up such a rapport with this man, and dare you say you were extremely proud to harbor some of his deepest secrets, and him yours. But his breathing calmed you immensely, as if the gentle rhythm was enough to put you to sleep, and you wondered if he was thinking about the same thing. 

But I fall in love, with you

So I should, keep this to myself

And never let you know

     Bucky seemed to hug you tighter as the lyrics encircled the room. Over the last few weeks he had felt a shift in your relationship, where sharing food was no longer as innocent as it seemed, barging into each other’s room was not seen as drastic, and partaking in each other’s hobbies was never a bore. Steve had commented on it before, asking Bucky if there was something between you two. And Bucky confided in both Steve and Sam, hands pulling at his hair as he paced in a safe room and his friends sitting patiently on the lone couch. They let him act out his worries in peace, and once Bucky tired himself out they both explained how he should ask you out or how to bring up the topic with you. Bucky listened intently and pushed down the tiny voice in his head that joked about Steve being the one to give him romantic advice. But if he ended up with you on his arm after this little pep talk, it would all be worth it. 

     But now the song was coming closer to its end, and he knew that if he didn’t act now then he probably wouldn’t have the courage to bring it up ever again. He leaned down to your left ear, and whispered the lyrics to you. In Spanish. 

Siempre estoy soñando en ti

Besando mis labios, acariciando mi piel

Abrazándome con ansias locas

Imaginando que me amas

Como yo podía amar a ti

[I am always dreaming of you

Kissing my lips and touching my skin

Anxiously hugging me

Imagining that you love me

Like how I love you]

     You knew Bucky knew several languages. You knew. But it made you incredibly excited and hot that he specifically knew Spanish. He spoke in such a gentle manner, breath hitting your skin and voice practically drowning your mind. It was all foggy for a moment, but you quickly refocused your attention on his face. 

     “Oh, wow.”

      Bucky smiled, “What?”

     You scoffed and swatted his chest lightly, “Don’t ‘what’ me! You just confessed you like me!”

     Bucky pushed you away for another twirl under his arm, but kept you at arms length once you turned around. “No, I confessed I love you.”

     You stumbled slightly, staring at him with wide eyes. You thought about how absurd that confession was, but as quickly as that thought entered your mind, it left - because let’s face it, you did know each other for over two years and were best friends. This was right. This felt right. 

     “You love me?”

     Bucky breathed in deeply but your reaction didn’t change his mind. It was now or never. “Yeah, I do. Seemed like the moment to tell you.”

     You grinned, pushing your body forward to be engulfed by his strong arms once more. “And to think you could have just told me at this damn party when I was looking all hot without freaking flour on my face.”

     Bucky let out a loud laugh that originated from the pit of his stomach and reached his hands up to your face. He pulled you in and kissed you sweetly, the taste of your lip gloss driving him wild. He tasted like toothpaste and chapstick, a perfect combination for your superhero. 

     “I love you, too.” Bucky let his eyes close in complete bliss. 

     You could have stayed like that forever, but as you left his lips and looked up at him, you suddenly remembered you never set a timer. 

     You pushed Bucky away, your sudden strength sending him backwards onto the couch. “My cupcakes!”

      And as you rushed to pull the burnt tops from the oven, you could hear Bucky slide off the couch and hit the floor, his laugh louder than the speakers. 

I could fall, in love

With you.”

~

Happy Valentine’s Day. All the love. xxMoni

[blueskrugs]

Tim McGraw | Brock Boeser

ahhhh! this is the first fic of the swift series! I can’t believe I am actually going to try and pull this off for the next five months. I hope you guys like it and big shoutout to @broadstbroskis for being my sounding board throughout all this fic planning and then beta-ing this!

length: 1.6k words

But when you think Tim McGraw,  I hope you think my favorite song

Falling in love with Brock was easy. 

It was the summer before your sophomore year of college, on the precipice of both your lives changing, though neither of you knew it at the time. 

Time seemed to move slower that summer, long sunny days blending into bonfire nights out by the lake, September nothing more than a distant day on the calendar. You watched as Brock’s hair turned more blond and his shoulders turned more tan, hours outside in the sun doing their job. 

You remembered the first time Brock kissed you; you weren’t sure it was something you’d ever forget. You’d spent weeks dancing around each other, learning each other, had spent an entire Fourth of July party practically glued to each other’s sides. It seemed more than inevitable by the time it finally happened.

He called you late one night, woke you up and begged you to meet him down at the lakefront. You went, because of course you did, met him down at the dock, where he was waiting with a pile of blankets in the speedboat his family used. He tossed you one of his UND hoodies with a grin before helping you onto the boat. You settled into the nest of blankets in the prow as Brock carefully steered the boat out from the dock and into the middle of the lake. 

It was a clear night, the stars and the full moon shining brightly against the still, dark lake, and a quiet one. The only sounds filling the air were the quiet hum of the boat’s motor and Brock’s country playlist playing quietly from his phone, neither quite loud enough to drown out the constant buzz of the cicadas. 

Brock cut the motor and came to sit behind you. You rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He was warm and solid behind you, and you were both quiet for a moment, just listening to the music.

“This is one of my favorite songs,” you murmured, as Tim McGraw’s “Humble and Kind” started filtering through the speakers.

“I know,” Brock said simply. You didn’t remember telling him that. You could hear his heartbeat beneath your ear, steady and calm. 

You were caught up in trying to remember when you’d told Brock your favorite song when he shifted a little behind you. You twisted in his arms to see what was the matter, but then he was kissing you, softly in the moonlight, and you didn’t get the chance.

“Wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted after he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. His breath fanned across your face when he breathed out a sigh. Tim McGraw was still playing somewhere behind you.

“I would’ve let you,” you said back.

Brock breathed out a laugh and kissed you again, one hand tangled in your hair, the other still wrapped around your waist.

And I was right there beside him all summer long,  And then the time we woke up to find that summer gone

For all that that summer seemed endless while it was happening, it ended abruptly, shattering the peaceful love you and Brock had been building out on the lake. 

You snuck out one last time, both of you dressed in something other than a swimsuit for once, spent the night in each other’s arms with your bare feet dangling in the lake off the dock, the stars and the moon lighting your way once again.

You weren’t sure you’d ever look at the summer stars the same way when you were older.

Brock went back to UND. Your family moved away from Minnesota. Summer romances were never meant to last, you told yourself, as you left yours in the dust.

Brock promised he would keep in touch, pressed a green UND hoodie into your hands and a goodbye kiss to your lips. You smiled at him, because you knew it would never last, and it didn’t. Brock had other things to focus on, hockey and his future. It was only a matter of time until he forgot you. 

You spent a lot of time wearing that hoodie he gave you in the beginning, more time than you cared to admit. You spent more time crying than you cared to admit, too. You kept wearing it long after it stopped smelling like Brock and summer, until it was almost nothing to you and the comfort of it was gone. Almost.

Brock’s texts trickled to a stop before Christmas, but you couldn’t blame him. You’d always had a feeling that this– whatever this had been– had meant more to you than it had to him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop following him, though, not even when your friends and family gave you pitying looks, not when UND got booted out of the championship tournament. “He’s just a boy,” they’d say, but they also say you never forget your first love, don’t they? You watched his first NHL game, at home in Minnesota, his first NHL goal, too. And if you cried a little, well, at least there was no else around to see it. 

Years passed, and, slowly, you moved on. Brock’s sweatshirt made its way to the back of your closet. You fell in love again, fell out of love. Stopped loving Brock. You graduated college. You never did go back to the lake, wondered if Brock ever had. If he’d waited for you, or if he’d moved in and found another girl to spend the summer with. For the most part, you forgot about Brock. Forgot about his laugh, about the way he’d roll his eyes when you teased him. How he knew your favorite songs. You did your best to, at least. It was easier said than done for a long time.

But in a box beneath my bed, there’s a letter that you never read from three summers back It’s hard not to find it all a little bittersweet...

You were cleaning out your old bedroom at your parents’ house when you found it. It was a letter you’d written to Brock after that summer, when you were confused and lonely, filled with all the things that you didn’t have the courage to say to his face. It was in an envelope, addressed and stamped, but you’d never planned on sending it. In all the chaos of moving that fall, it had gotten thrown in a box and shoved under your bed to be forgotten. 

You remembered every word you’d written, but you carefully pulled it out anyway. You read that letter again and again over the next few days, always pausing on the last words you wrote before you signed your name: “I love you.”

It was another several days before you pulled out a clean sheet of paper and a pen, wrote a continuation to that letter. You’d loved Brock once, yes, but you didn’t anymore, not in the same way. There were no tears left in this story. He’d always be your first love, and you’d always want the best for him. You just no longer felt your heart break every time you thought of him, and you hadn’t for a long time. 

You hoped that he was happy out there in Vancouver, living his dream.

And there’s a letter left on your doorstep, And the first thing that you’ll read...

“Brock, there’s a letter for you!” his mom called through the house.

“Who sends letters anymore?” he asked, which earned him a smack with the envelope. He took it from his mom anyway. The return address was unfamiliar, out-of-state, and there was no name, but he felt like he’d seen the handwriting somewhere before. He took the envelope out on the back deck with Coolie, carefully slid his thumb under the flap and opened it.

A picture slid out from in-between two folded pieces of paper when he tugged them out. It took only a quick glance at it to tell him exactly who had sent him this letter. It was a picture of the two of you at that Fourth of July party you’d spent together all those summers ago. Brock had spent the entire day trying not to kiss you right there in front of everyone.

Brock smiled at the picture for a moment. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders, your hands reaching up to grasp his. You were both laughing at some joke long forgotten. He didn’t even remember anyone taking the picture. He carefully set it aside to turn his attention to the letter. He read in silence as the afternoon sun slowly dipped lower in the sky. Coolie was off somewhere in the grass, having found a stick to chew on.

Brock read the letter, then again. He stared at your name on the bottom of each page for a minute before carefully refolding them. He whistled once for Coolie, who came running, still carrying the stick. 

“Where are you off to?” his mom asked as he made his way back into the house and grabbed his car keys.

“For a drive.”

When you think Tim McGraw, I hope you think of me

The letter was tossed in his glovebox. Brock plugged in his aux, pulled up Spotify, and scrolled all the way down to his country playlist. There was a song on there he didn’t listen to very often, could never really explain why he always skipped it, but right now he clicked on it and turned the volume up.

“Always stay humble and kind,” sang Tim McGraw as he put his car and drive and allowed himself to remember, just this once.

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Irresistibly Yours

Chapter 2 - Noise Complaint

Summary - Y/N Y/L/N moves to NYC in hopes for a fresh start after a nasty breakup. There she meets her neighbor, the cynical lawyer, Dean Winchester. A love-hate relationship starts evolving between them ever since they met in the elevator one morning but a desperate situation and a string of lies forces the two friendly rivals to go on a date or rather a fake date. Will sparks fly between them when Dean gets to know Y/N real and up close? Will Y/N finally find her Prince Charming in the grumpy, workaholic, divorce lawyer?

Pairing - Lawyer!Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warning - None expect meanie Dean (Suspicious, isn’t it?)

WC - 2154

Square Filled - Don't put me in this position ( @anyfandomgoesbingo​ )

A/N - I promise the next chapter will have more of Dean and more conflict! This is just the beginning of a very long ride. Enjoy!

Beta’d by @miss-nerd95​

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Series Masterlist               Masterlist 

The silence in the cab on her way back to her apartment gave her the quality time she needed to think. In a few weeks, Meg was getting married and now, since they knew, Y/N had to show up with her 'boyfriend’. She racked her brain, scrambling to come up with a good excuse because it was all a big lie.

Every time, however, she reached two conclusions - either make a fool of herself and admit that she lied or tell everyone that she broke up and be the one person at the wedding that everyone looks down on with pitiful eyes.

There was a third option, which was risque as hell too, cause Y/N barely knew the man and their first meeting did not go so well, but there was definitely something about him that made her blush every time she thought of him.The way he carried himself and the dominating vibes he gave off, sent shivers down her spine. Maybe he wasn't a morning person and she did start blabbering in the elevator the minute she stepped in. She swallowed hard when she remembered the way her name rolled off his tongue. ‘How did he know?’ She wondered.

As Y/N boarded the elevator, she thought about how, she wanted nothing more than to see a certain green-eyed man again. She had been residing in this complex for almost three months but she had never seen the man before. Maybe he was new here, in this apartment building, who knew? Mind plagued by millions of thoughts, Y/N trudged down the empty hallway to her cosy little home.

“Who invented these fucking heels?” She grumbled as she freed her feet out of the painful, yet pretty high heels when she reached the comfort of her own home. Shrugging her coat off, she relaxed as her ass hit the soft mattress of the couch.

“I need a date in seven weeks.” She said, making a mental note of the wedding date. This was the only wedding she ever looked forward to attending where she knew she wouldn't have to face the constant stream of questions involving her dating life and a particular man. All she ever wanted was to be with her close friend on the best day of her life.

“First dress fitting - tomorrow at 10.” Her phone lit up with an incoming text and groaning, she dropped her head backwards. Y/N couldn't even skip the wedding if she wanted to. She was one of the bridesmaids and it wouldn't be fair to both Meg and Cas, if she didn't attend it. A smile graced her frowning face when she remembered the time Cas proposed to her friend on Valentine's Day. Cliche- Y/N would say, but deep down, she knew she just wanted what Cas and Meg had.

A sigh left her lips as she got up, still in her work clothes. She put on some light music as she went into the bathroom to freshen up. After the long, tiring day she had, a warm bath and a Ryan Gosling movie were very much needed. Quickly stripping off, she stepped into the tub. She leaned her head backwards, closing her eyes, as the warm water soothed her aching body and her troubled mind.

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone,” Y/N sang along the song, slightly off tune but she didn't care, as she stepped out of the bathroom after some time. She let go of the towel wrapped around her body and stepped into a pair of comfortable pjs. Getting a box cold pizza out from her refrigerator, she turned up the volume of the music playing in her apartment.

“He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, and said,” Y/N yelled out the chorus when she started to heat up the pizza. Her private singing session, however, was cut short by a sudden knock on the door. She grudgingly pressed pause as she walked up to the door to find out the unwanted visitor.

“Excuse me- Ms L/N?” As soon as she opened the door, she was met by a very familiar, deep baritone that had been haunting her.

“Dean Winchester. And please, call me Y/N,” she breathed out. The formality in Dean’s voice made her cringe. Her eyes fell as she took in the man in front.

Dean had gotten rid of the dapper grey suit and slipped into a much laid back look. A black polo t-shirt fitted over his body and plain blue jeans hugging his bowlegs perfectly. The look on his face mirrored the one from the morning and Y/N wondered if he would look better with a smile on. Her train of thoughts were again rudely interrupted by the man speaking.

“I assume you're having somewhat of a casual evening,” Dean said, his hands waving to point at her pjs, making her suddenly self-conscious of her clothing state.

“Y-yeah. How may I help you?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“See, I moved in the apartment right beside you a few days ago, and I think you might have noticed sometime or the other that there are other people living in this building as well,” Dean said, his face not imparting any sort of emotions, “You might be having a casual evening but I can assure you that there's at least one person who is certainly not. Turn the music level down.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open at Dean’s words but she wasn't going to turn down the volume just because a man turned up at her door, asking her to do so. His words were sharp, but his tone was downright rude, and it was definitely not because he wasn't a morning person. The least he could have done was ask her nicely.

“Well, listen here pal, no one's having a problem, other than you. So you can go back to your room, put on some earplugs and do whatever the heck you were doing before you decided to make my day more awful,” Y/N said, taking a threatening stance with hands on her hips, a deep frown on her face.

“I'll file a noise complaint report against you.” Dean warned with his pointer finger right in front of her eyes.

“It's just music. Learn to appreciate the little things in life.” She said while rolling her eyes.

“I'm a very busy man and I got work to do, alright? And speaking about music, play something actually good like Zeppelin and people will personally come up to thank you. This song is not even a classic.” Dean spat back.

“Believe me or not, everyone is a Swiftie at heart.” She smirked with a sarcastic shrug. Dean’s lips twitched in anger as his face grew more rigid before he said, “If you don't lower the volume, expect a noise complaint report delivered with your newspaper tomorrow.” He walked away before Y/N had a chance to even think of a comeback.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dean went inside his own apartment room right beside Y/N’s. She glared at the empty hallway before swinging her door shut and walked back to her room towards her amazon echo, turning the music down anyway. She couldn't risk getting a report filed against her, and the man appeared to be dead serious about what he threatened to do.

“Stupid Dean Winchester.” She grumbled.

Squinting at the clock, Y/N woke up the next morning to loud bangs on her door. 7:30 am, it read. Removing the covers, she immediately shivered when the cool air hit her bare legs.

Hair still a mess, she grabbed her robe from the nearby chair, putting it on along with her slippers before she warily made her way to the door. “Dean will be complaining now for sure.” She grumbled as she unlocked her door to reveal her friend standing on the other side in a dishevelled state, eyes red like a mad woman.

“Meg?” Her face scrunched up in confusion as the said woman shoved past her into her apartment. “You’re wearing your shirt inside out.” Y/N closed the door behind her as Meg took a seat on the couch.

“Can I have some water?” Y/N dumbfoundedly nodded at her friend’s request and went to her kitchen to retrieve a glassful. Handing the glass over to her, she sat down next to the brunette who gulped down the entire glass of water in one go. Setting the utensil down on the wooden coffee table in front, she turned towards Y/N with slightly glossy eyes as she spoke, “I don’t want to go and finalise the dresses.”

Her words elicited a laugh from Y/N before she said, “Okay, bridezilla, we can reschedule it. Cas should better watch out!” She chuckled out the last words.

“No, y-you don’t understand!” Meg grabbed her friend’s hands, surprising the latter, “I don’t want to try the dress on at all.” Y/N was utterly surprised over her friend's outburst.

“Honey, you have a wedding in less than two months.” Y/N cooed as a few drops of tears rolled down the bride-to-be’s cheeks. “Meg, talk to me. Did something happen between you two?”

The woman shook her head, letting the other lady in the room know that she didn't have to kick Cas’ ass to her relief, but it confused her even further. Since their engagement five months ago, Meg had been over the moon and had started planning every minute detail with high precision and finesse for her big day.

“What if I'm making a huge mistake?”

“Don’t put me in this position. You know how I am when it comes to-”

“But I need to know, and I trust you.”

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line before she said, “Cas is the best thing that has ever happened to you-”

“You barely even knew me when I started to go out with him. We have only been together for fifteen months - five of which I have spent being engaged to him. What if I regret this later?” Meg's words were correct. Y/N used to barely talk to her when she had started dating Cas, but all through those eighteen months, as she slowly got to know the pair well enough, she knew that they were clearly meant to be in it for the long haul.

“But I have never seen you regret your decision to be with Cas even once… so why start now?.” Y/N politely answered, her hands letting go of her distraught friend's iron-clad grasp and reaching out to soothe her.

“Sometimes even if you have been with your man for what feels like forever, marrying him might seem to be the worst decision you can ever make, but it doesn't matter how long you have been with him. When you know, you know. Follow your heart.” Meg looked up at her as she mulled her words over before speaking.

“I love him.” She said.

“Then go, be with him.” Y/N smiled. Crisis averted.

A smile started to appear on Meg’s tear stained face as her eyes twinkled with a suggestive glimmer in them. Fiddling with her sparkling ring, she said, “Dean’s good for you. Don't let him go.”

Y/N was taken aback by her friend's supposition. She sat up straight in her seat as heat crept up her neck. Her mind was stuck in a turmoil as she tried to come up with an appropriate response.

“He’s not-Dean is not-” She stuttered, the words got stuck in her throat when she tried to think of a decent excuse. Maybe, this was the universe giving her a chance to take back everything she had said before, but the disheartened look on her friend’s face made her rethink her decision. After all, a little white lie never hurt anybody. “Yeah, he is a good man.” Meg smiled as Y/N played her into the deception game once again.

“Will he be at the wedding?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“What are you waiting for? Unless he is a figment of your imagination, ask him! I want to meet this certain Dean Winchester.” Meg giggled.

“I don’t have such vivid imaginations, Meg.” Y/N let out a nervous chuckle. She was now being given an ample amount of opportunities to tell the truth, then why was it so hard for her to deny everything she had said? Maybe she liked living in this utopian world where for once, no one deemed her as the broken, pathetic girl who failed to make a man stay. Maybe deep down, she wanted this damn lie to be true.

“I’ll ask him but you do know how men are about weddings.” She replied, having no knowledge of how to keep her end of the promise.

Chapter 3

Feedback is highly appreciated

If you want to be tagged in the series, lemme know!

[hadesisqueer]

How do you feel about Yang and how she’s summarized in Vol. 8 as suspicious and emotional?

Late, but better late than ever. I've been waiting for this one. It's probably the longest because as I said, I make either two lines or just an entire character analysis lol. And I'm going to do it properly this time.

Okay, I straight (gay) up don't know where to start. I love Yang. I truly love Yang. She's not perfect, she has many flaws, but that's what I like the most about her. I can't help but laugh when some people say she's a Mary Sue.

Childhood, first volumes.

Yang starts the series as the funny blonde hot girl that goes around punching people. And I liked that, but I also like how she wasn't just that, as I said with Nora being the comic relief. Like, there's so much more in Yang than that, just like Weiss turned up to be much more than just the bratty tsundere.

Yang's mother abandoned her. Her other mother disappeared. Her sister was a toddler that didn't really get what was going on except her mother being gone, and her father was so depressed that for a good while, he wasn't even able to raise her daughters. Can you imagine being in that situation? I imagine she was, at most, six when that happened. She was forced to become Ruby's mother figure at six. She was forced to become the fucking adult in the house at six.

Damn, you can even see the difference between how Qrow talks to Ruby and how he talks to Yang, at least at the begining. He talks to Ruby as her uncle, as her mentor. He may tease Yang a little because she's still his niece, but when he talks to her, he always talks like she's an equal. Like, Tai still considered Yang a kid, but Qrow treats her like an adult, and knows and expects her to be the mature one. Because he saw her all those years, being forced grow up so fast. He trusts her to protect and take care of Ruby, and she trust him to protect her as well.

And damn, all of this really explains her behaviour when the series began. As Ruby got older and started to be able to take care of herself, and Tai eventually started to be functional again, Yang had more freedom. Her personality and eagerness for adventure and parties and all of that - is just her trying to make up for her sacrificed childhood. But even then she still was, out of all the girls, the most mature and nurturing of team RWBY. She is the party girl, yes. The hot headed one that will break legs. But she's still the adult of the group.

And then volume 3 happens. She gets framed in front of the entire world, two of her friends die, Beacon falls, she loses her arm in the most traumatic way possible; Weiss, her friend, is basically taken away from her and Blake -her partner, the girl she probably already had feelings for at that point- left, triggering her abandonment issues. And of course, PTSD, because she isn't fucked up enough already. She's so fucking destroyed that she can't even talk about Weiss, about Blake, about what happened. She doesn't even want talk to Ruby, because she can't stand the thought of her little sister seeing her at that state. She is not used to be the one people have to take care of, and it becomes more and more obvious in the next volumes.

Disability, recovery, abandonment issues

I like how volume 4 treats her recovery. I mean, I wish her storyline was longer, but I also like the DC comics. Now, the thing is, she isn't really recovered. In vol 4, she learns to live with her disability, she learns how to use her new arm, she learns how to fight better than she ever did before. It's about physical recovery. But is she okay? No. She hates being taken care of. She forced herself to be okay, or at least pretend she was, so Tai would let her go with Ruby. And in vol 5, she's anything but alright. She is pretending to be for Ruby's sake, because she is her mother figure and Ruby can't see her like that. She has to face her abandonment issues, she still has PTSD, and she is just not okay. Weiss notices right away, and tells her that it's okay if she is not okay. She noticed how hurt she was about Blake leaving. She just could see through the façade because if Weiss knows about anything, is about loneliness and pretending.

Her conversation with Raven at the end of the volume is just one of the best scenes, because you can just see how much Yang has grown. That scene deserves a post of its own because it's just amazing. But she finally faces one of her fears -her own abandonment issues, though they probably will always be there- and sees right through Raven. Because just like her, Raven just puts a façade to hide her own fears and insecurities, and the moment her own daughter isn't just taking any of that shit, she just starts crying. Because Yang is right. And deep down, she doesn't want to let Yang take the lamp, but she isn't just strong enough. Deep down, she wants to be in Yang's life, wants to protect her, and I think Yang knew that. But it was just too late.

More abandonment issues and relationship with Blake.

Now, to Yang, Blake coming back was huge. Not only in the terms of shipping, but as a whole. In her mind, Blake left her, just like Raven, just like Summer (though Summer didn't do it in purpose), and technically, just like Ruby, though she knew why Ruby did it and understood. But she's probably wondering “what is wrong with me that everyone always leaves me”. And she always has to be the one looking for the person who left her.

Not with Blake. After that talk with Weiss (bless the wingwoman), Yang was able to understand Blake's perspective better. But she didn't think Blake would actually ever come back, because no one ever does. But she did. Not only did she come back; literally, all Blake cared about once she entered the room and saw Yang was her (for once, someone is prioritizing her). And later, she was the one to walk and talk to the team, and tell them she didn't plan to leave again if they accepted her back. She didn't have to look for Blake because she was already looking for Yang. She was the one who made the effort, not the other way around. And to Yang, even though they still had issues to work through, even though she was still afraid at that moment that Blake would leave and break her heart again (All That Matters), that was enough to forgive her. Or at least give her another chance.

Now in volume 6 they clearly have issues. Like, Blake is very nurturing to the entire team because she feels like she has to make up. But mostly, she is trying to make up to Yang. She still feels guilty because of Adam, and she knew that Yang had already abandonment issues before she left and she probably made them worse. She was just trying so hard to be there for Yang so she could understand that she would never leave her again that she made things awkward. Yang is used to be the one who takes care of people, not the other way around. She thought that Blake “protecting her” was her seeing her a weak when actually, it was just Blake just genuinely caring about her but with the wrong words. Blake understood after that, and she changed the phrasing in the fight against Adam. Protecting each other. Equals. It really applies to the Bees relationship as a whole. “You're taking care of me, yeah, but I'm going to take care of you as well, no matter what”. For once, Yang is allowing someone to take care of her (well, except Tai, but again, she wasn't completely sincere with him, so technically she wasn't really allowing him to fully help her). And that's what I love the most about their dynamic, and why I ship it.

PTSD

Now (I'm sorry I'm taking so long), I've seen many, many people saying that Yang's PTSD is poorly written, or that the writers messed it up in the fight against Adam. Now, I have to ask those people: what the fuck do you think PTSD is?

If a Great WriterTM reads this and tries to tell me I'm wrong, or that I don't know what I'm talking about and I don't know anything about good writing and blah blah blah: I have PTSD myself. Diagnosed. So yes, I acknowledge there are many things I'm ignorant about, but I'm quite familiar about this topic. Yang's PTSD is, at least by my point of view, very well-written. It isn't perfect, but it's still far so much better than most PTSD portrayals I've seen in TV, along with Korra's. And I've seen people saying that Korra's portrayal was so much better. Well, let me tell you, it isn't, or at least I don't think it is. It's just different, because the worst thing about PTSD (and what makes it harder to treat) is that it's different for every person; sometimes it can be really severe and obvious, sometimes it seems “light”. Damn, sometimes it doesn't appear until years after the event; mine didn't trigger til I was like sixteen, and the event took place when I was around five or six. And yes, sometimes I have nightmares or flashbacks about it if something triggers me, but it isn't the whole time like some of you apparently think it is. I'm not scared 100% of the time, what the fuck.

When it comes to the fight with Adam, saying it didn't affect her: did you watch the fight? First of all, at that precise moment, Yang was so full of adredaline and too busy keeping Adam from killing Blake that I don't think her brain even realised he was the cause of her PTSD. Second of all, when he triggers it, it does affect her; she starts shaking, he's able to land hits on her that he couldn't before. But PTSD is different in every person, and is a defense mechanism, not a freezing mechanism as some people think. If I see the cause of my PTSD in front of me trying to hurt me again, I'm not gonna freeze; I'm gonna do whatever it takes so they don't ever hurt me again. Same goes with Yang: some people think she should have completely freezed during the fight, like “oh my god this guy fucked me up really bad and now he's gonna do it again and there's nothing I can do oh my god”. No. As I said, PTSD doesn't work like that, at least not always. She's not thinking that, she's thinking “alright this guy really fucked me up once but there's no way I'm letting him do that again”. Again, PTSD is a defense mechanism. A fucked up one, but it's what it is. And the writers handled very well.

Yang being suspicious and not completely trusting someone.

Now, I'm not lying when I tell you that I have no idea about what this could mean. Well, it could be her disagreeing with Ruby and having a bad argument, and that would really break my heart because I just love those two sisters so much. It could also be about Ozpin; she's teaming up with Oscar and hearing Ozpin is back could bring some problems. Or maybe Raven just appears there and she's like Hell Naw. I have no idea.

Conclussion.

I love Yang. She's not perfect at all. She's a bit of a hypocrite with the whole Ozpin thing because she's keeping Raven's identity as the Spring Maiden a secret as well (or maybe she did tell them off-screen? Honestly clear that up already). But she's over all a really good friend and person, an amazing older sister and just one of the most inspiring characters in the show. I see part of myself in her, and I don't see that often in a character. I just love her.

Damn, sorry I wrote the Bible but my girl deserved that.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Unfinished Business ~ Part Five

WORD COUNT: 4.3K

WARNINGS: Mentions of mafia, strong language, murder, blood

PAIRING: Bang Chan X Reader

DESCRIPTION: Part five of nine of my new Bang Chan series. 

You’re taken hostage but one of Seoul’s leading mafia families Bang Chan but he doesn’t take you because he wants to fake a marriage or make you fall for him in 365 days no…He wants to use you for his own personal gain. To take over another family but when you try to escape things take a turn for the worst and you learn Chan isn’t one to be messed with.(Please I suck at describing stuff)

THEMES: Smut will be included in a later chapter so this is a fic for a mature audience, Chan x Fem!Reader, Self insert

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

The last couple of days had passed by without another incident happening, you'd kept yourself in your bedroom singing to the small radio that Chan had brought for you on the one condition that you keep the volume low, you just kept painting the back bedroom wall. It was almost completely covered in sunflowers with small parts of blue paint being able to peek through.

"You look proud of yourself," Chan said as he came into the room, you looked over your shoulder at him and nodded.

"It's pretty good, I think it's finished and then the rest of the walls are going to be white. I don't want to take too much away from your house." He chuckled at you and walked closer to the sunflowers,

"Where did you learn to paint like this?" You took the paintbrushes and paint tray to the sink in your en-suite and put them under the hot water.

"My grandmother, she was a painter." He looked at you as you spoke about her. He'd read a lot about her in the folder he had on you, your head was hung low as you washed up the paintbrushes in the sink.

"Have you eaten anything? Jisung said you didn't have breakfast." You looked at the time,

"No, it's okay. I was on a diet before I came here-"

"Nonsense, what do you want? Felix isn't here and I just sent Minho to lunch but I'm sure I can make something." You stared at him as you put the brushes out to dry on a towel on top of the countertop,

"What can you cook?" You asked, looking as he took off his blazer and laid it on your bed. You looked at his arms as he rolled up the sleeves of his long shirt as he rolled them up. He was never out of the suit and it bothered you for some reason.

"Why do you always wear a suit?" He cocked his head at you and raised an eyebrow,

"Why does it bother you what I wear?" You ignored him since you didn't know the answer to the questions either and followed him down the staircase towards the kitchen.

"I work in an office building, the suit it's my uniform. I can cook omelettes, french toast...yeah that's about it." You stared at the back of his head as he spoke to you about what he couldn't cook and you pushed him out of the way going to the back door, his heart began pumping thinking you were going to walk right out of the door. He was alone, no one but him would be able to stop you and you knew that but all you did was reach for an apron.

"I'll cook, what do you want?" He shrugged his shoulders at you, he normally just ate whatever the boys were making he really didn't have a choice in any of it.

"Right, sit." You sat him down at the table and began going through the cupboards and  the fridge. There was literally nothing inside with the exception of some old tomatoes and a tub of mayonnaise. Felix must have brought his own things whenever he decided to cook for you all.

"You can drive right?"

"Obviously." You looked back into the empty fridge expecting some kind of magic trick to happen when you opened it but it was still empty.

"I'm going to write a list of things you need in this fridge and stuff we need for the night. Will you go and get them?"

"So you can leave while I'm out? I'm not that stupid." You flinched as he raised his voice with his hands clenched into fists by his side.

"No. I told you," Your hand rested on top of his, rubbing your thumb along his bruised knuckles. It was the first time you were noticing the dried blood and scabs that were sitting there, it made you wonder what he'd been doing all day if he was in an office building.

"I was going to stay, I meant it." You hated that you were acting so friendly with him. But it was going to be the only way you could get him to trust you on this, make it easier to slip away.

"You're still coming with me." He knew the more he was seen with you the better, he looked up at the time one of Namjoon's men would be around the edge of town so he could take you to that supermarket, in his care you'd get spotted instantly and Namjoon's men would report back right away.

"We'll go now. Make your list." You stared at him, you had no idea where anything was in this huge mansion so how were you to know where to find the paper and a pen.

"I think Jisung keeps a pen and pad in the top corner cupboard. He thinks if he hides it high enough I won't know what he's doing." You raised an eyebrow wondering what he meant but began climbing onto the kitchen side so you could reach, Chan sprung to his feet and stood behind you. The plan was working afterall, he was going soft on you.

"I'm fine. I won't fall, Chan." He kept his hands out just in case and you pulled down a pad and pen looking it when Chan explained what all the writing was.

"Music, he writes songs." You hummed and jumped down from the side, you stood between Chan and the side. Your face inches from his, your back pressing against the marble countertop. His hand moved to rest on your waist and you swallowed the lump that was in my throat.

"I should write this list." You whispered trying to move away from him, he nodded and moved away from you giving you the space you needed to get away from the counter. He sat back down on the chair beside the table watching you closely. You were being far too nice to him after what had happened a couple of days ago but he was being naive and assuming you were just coming to your senses about being there with him.

"You're going in that?" He asked looking at the jeans you were wearing, they were covered in paint and rolled up at the bottom with swatches of paint on the cuffs.

"Yeah, it's just a supermarket, not a fashion show." You didn't see a problem with what you were wearing, it was something you'd wear a lot if you were on the other side of town.

"But it's covered in paint." He sounded disgusted at the thought. You stared at him and ripped the paper off the pad and began folding it up.

"Can we just go, please? And make sure the boys will be home for dinner." He followed you over to the front door and he put his thumb down on the lock opening the door and taking you out with him.

"We'll take my black Porsche." You followed him over to a black car and got inside shivering a little at how chilly it was outside. It was pitch black despite it being 6 pm, but then again it was autumn.

"Seatbelt." You clicked into place and stared as Chan began to back down the drive without doing his seatbelt up,

"Seatbelt." You quipped back at him and he rolled his eyes ignoring your comment, so you reached across him and pulled it into place smiling in satisfaction when you pulled away and he stared at you.

"What? You have to be safe." He rolled his eyes at you playfully and began driving down the road. You stared out of the window trying to see how far away from society you really were.

"You live pretty far out." You said, trying to bring it up naturally. But you watched his grip tighten on the wheel at the thought of you trying to figure out where you were, his head was filling with thoughts about why you were mentioning it.

"I have to. Stops people from finding me and stops you from running away." He whispered turning onto the main road and continuing to drive in dull silence, it was torture not having some kind of background noise.

"Can we play music? You let me back home." Home. The way you said home instead of his house, prison, torture chamber or hell hole. Home. Like you were saying you liked it there, he liked that.

"Sure. Nothing bad though. I can't stand those romantic songs." He lied, of course, he was a sucker for those songs they were his favourite kind of song to listen to...Or they used to be. Being able to sing them with someone he loved, it was one of the reasons he stopped music in the house. He couldn't stand listening to it without her being there with him. You flicked through the stations and landed on classical and you assumed it would be your best bet for him right now something to keep the peace until you were able to work up to usual music.

The store was practically empty when you and Chan reached it, except for the workers who knew Chan. Instantly they began to hide in the storerooms, but not before snapping some photographs of you and him together for Namjoon. After all, this was his side of town and Chan wasn't one to show his face here. Which was exactly what Chan wanted everyone to see, that he was there and he wasn't alone.

"Chan?" A voice filled the empty aisle as Chan stood behind you. You were bent over, picking out carrots and turned your head to see a man around 5''8 standing there with a smirk on his face.

"Who's this?" A stupid question, he was already running a background check on you to see who you were and why you were with Chan. Chan's hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him tightening his grip a little, though it was weird you said nothing, because you knew who Namjoon was. You recognised him from the photos in the paper just like Chan's, not to mention the photos of him and your grandmother together in your folder. You kept your eyes downcast not knowing what to say or do in this situation.

"This is Y/n, Y/n this is Namjoon." Chan wasn't going to give your last name to Namjoon that would be far too easy for him. Namjoon took your hand in his and left a kiss on the top of your skin while holding eye contact with you, lingering for more than Chan liked.

"I didn't know you started seeing someone again. She's pretty." Chan looked at you and turned to kiss your cheek, you stayed still playing along since Namjoon was eyeing you up carefully.

"Go to the back of the store and pick out what meat you want. Don't leave." You nodded at him squeezing his hand as a silent message you weren't going to leave. You could tell that Chan seemed to be scared of Namjoon, or at least annoyed that he'd touched you. All you knew was they had business and fights over certain selling areas with their drugs, but that was all you knew.  

"Nice to meet you." You whispered, putting the bag of carrots down into the trolley. Chan was pushing and walked towards the back of the store.  Chan looked like the real husband type like this and Namjoon wasn't going to let him go off without mentioning it. You kept your head down as you walked, never once turning back to look at the two men, the smell of testosterone filled the air and you wanted to get out. Now would be the perfect chance to make a run for it, but there was a downside to that plan, your ankle was still bummed and you had no idea where you were in this side of town. Not to mention you didn't know who was and wasn't working for Chan, or where to go once you got out of there. Mrs Lu was your home but she was gone now, you were going to wait this out. Play the long game. Even if it meant pretending to like him a little while longer, make him think you loved him and make a break for it when he was vulnerable.

"What can I get for Mr Bang's young lady friend?" The butcher had a scar from the top of his face down to the bottom, he had blonde hair that was hidden under a chefs cap. He grew impatient the longer you stared at the scar along his face.

"It's rude to stare," You shyly looked down at the meat in the fridge he was standing above.

"S-Sorry, just a large chicken please." He nodded and began adding all of the spices while you looked over your shoulder at Chan and Namjoon, who looked like they were in a heated discussion about something.

"Everything okay?" You questioned as Chan came storming up behind you. His face and ears red with anger as he came to you holding onto your waist tightly.

"No. It's fine. Do you have everything you need?" You took his hand in yours and he seemed to lose tension instantly. You smiled softly at him to let him know it was okay for him to tell you if something was wrong.

"You can talk to me." You tried to tell him but he wasn't having any of it.

"No, it's fine."

"I need some other things," You glanced over at Namjoon who was watching you both closely, he wanted to know if what Chan had just told him was true. That you were his new girlfriend now, if it was he was going to have to do some serious digging into you. The longer you stared at Namjoon you remembered Chan telling him you were dating and you were going to have to start playing the part for Chan sooner or later anyway. You stood up on your tiptoes and left a small kiss on his cheek, you thought there would be an involuntary gag but there wasn't one. When your lips touched his skin it was as if there was a static shock running through your entire body, but you pulled away. He stared at you as you began walking away from him and he slowly walked after you, watching as you walked down an aisle and grabbed items you needed.

You'd brought the radio down from your room to play some music while you waited for the food to be prepped, you were attempting to teach Chan how to cook since he only knew basic things.

"You need to cut them into slices, but first peel them." Chan was dressed in a black apron over his usual suit top and tie, his sleeves rolled up to expose his arms. He stared at you while holding the knife, images flashed into your head but you cleared your throat, trying to push the thoughts of that night away. Chan put it down and looked at you once again to check if you were okay.

"How?" You sighed and showed him how to peel a carrot and then chop them up. It was simple enough and you wondered how his wife had dealt with him for all those years.

"Easy enough, just don't catch yourself." You turned away not wanting to see him with the knife again, this was harder than you'd expected it to be. You'd just got the images out of your mind but now you'd seen him with a knife again it brought everything flooding back to you.

"Boy I hear you in my dreams," You sang quietly, as you began cleaning the potatoes and chopping them up. It was one of your favourite songs as a teenager and now it was playing on the radio, you couldn't help but sing along to the words.

"I feel you whisper...across the sea. I keep you with me, in my heart." Chan watched you from behind as you sang along to the song coming from the radio, his eyes trained on your hips as you slowly swayed along to the duet that was playing. Continuing to sway as you moved the pan of chopped potatoes onto the stove and then took the carrots away from Chan and did the same.

"Lucky I'm in love with my best friend." You sang, looking down nervously at Chan as he stared at you. He hadn't said anything for the last two minutes and it was scaring you, but you didn't show him. He got up from the chair and wrapped one arm around your waist and placed his hand on yours dancing you around the floor in time to the beat.

"So I'm sailing through the sea, To an island where we'll meet, You'll hear the music fill the air," He put his hand on your cheek and moved the hair from your face, your pulse quickened as he touched you and your mouth ran dry.

"I'll put a flower in your hair," You stared into his eyes as you felt a tingle go through your body as he touched you and looked at you like that. His eyes were filled with something but you didn't know what it was. The front door chimed and you sprang apart from one another, standing back where you had originally been.

"Felix?" You called out and he popped into the kitchen,

"Can you come and finish the vegetables? I need to shower." All of the boys stared at you and Chan with the sense that something was going on, but you didn't care. You needed an excuse to get away from Chan before he could make your heart skip a beat again.

"You didn't make a run for it today then?" Minho smirked playfully at you. He'd asked you that every day since the day after you ran away from the house, and every time it was the same response from you.

"I'm staying." You said to him as you walked over to the kitchen door.

"I need to shower too. I'll walk you up." They stared at Chan as he walked over to you, both of you keeping your distance as you walked towards the staircase. Awkwardly trying to make it seem like nothing had happened in the kitchen before they walked inside.

"What do you think she's up to?" Minho questioned folding his arms over his chest,

"Keep an eye on her, she could be faking to get close to him," Changbin said, he'd seen enough movies to know what people did. They'd lure their kidnappers into ''love'' only to make a run for it when everything seemed clear enough or they'd made the kidnapper weak enough it was an easy enough plan.

"You know, she could genuinely be falling for him….happened in that Disney movie." Each of them turned to stare at Hyunjin who bit into an apple from the table.

"A Disney movie and it's called Stockholm syndrome, look it up." Jeongin said as he looked at the apple.

"Someone also died from eating an apple...Are you going to take all your advice from kids movies?" Jeongin quipped, taking the apple from him and biting into the fresh side.

"He killed someone she loved less than three days ago. That's not something someone gets over this quick. I'm telling you we watch her closely." Changbin mumbled, not liking the thought of his boss getting hurt again. The boys might be joking about it all but this was serious, Chan couldn't risk getting hurt again. The first time had been rough on them, all but the worst for Changbin, he was Chan's right-hand man. He had to be right there when everything happened and he didn't want to see his close friend at rock bottom once again.

Sitting at the table was weird, it was silent and uncomfortable all of them were watching you closely as you sat beside Chan, wondering what your next move was after their talk with Changbin earlier.

"I didn't poison it." You joked at them, referring back to what they'd said to you when you were in the basement. Felix chuckled as he heard you say it and then started to eat the food, while the others stared at him waiting for him to die but he started moaning about how good it tasted.

"Where did you learn to cook like this?!" Everyone dug in and you smiled doing the same, sticking to the vegetables to start with. A habit you'd had since you were a kid,

"My grandfather. He taught me how to cook when I moved in with him. He used to own a small restaurant." Chan looked at you, it had been included in the report they did on you but he took out why he didn't own it anymore. He thought it would best that part stayed between him, you and the Private investigator he'd hired to work alongside Changbin.

"Used to own?" Jisung questioned, you swallowed the carrot in your mouth and took some water from your glass suddenly getting a dry mouth thinking about your grandfather.

"He had to give it up when my grandmother got sick. Then he erm, then he got sick and-" You couldn't finish the sentence, it was too hard to talk about without crying. Chan's hand overlapped yours on the table, he knew where your grandfather was, that he'd left in the report, but you didn't flinch at the sudden contact from him. It felt oddly nice to have it there. Changbin watched you closely as you didn't react to Chan's touch.

"Is he-" Jisung asked, leading off not wanting to say what they were all wondering if he was dead or not.

"He's in a nursing home. He doesn't remember much these days. I'm just a girl that works...Worked there." Your mind flooded with thoughts of him, sitting alone and playing dominos on his own. You wanted to go to him, you needed to see him again.

"You used to volunteer there and the hospital, right? I remember from your file." Jeongin mentioned and everyone glared in his direction for bringing up the file during this hard topic for you but you didn't mind, you knew they'd all seen it.

"Yeah. I volunteered at the hospital and continued doing so even after my grandmother died and then the nursing home when my grandfather was admitted." Chan was still staring at you as you let silent tears roll down your face, he took a napkin from the table and wiped them away for you not wanting to see you cry like this. The boys could already see that he was falling fast and hard for you, but they still couldn't determine how you felt about him. It was hard to read you.

"I can take you to see him, you can go and see him whenever you want." You nodded along to him and looked at the plate in front of you, not daring to meet his eyes.

"You should all eat. I'm tired and I'm not that hungry." You whispered, getting up from the table. But Chan's hand was lingering on top of yours and he slotted his fingers into yours.

"I promise I'll take you." You hummed, not wanting to believe that he would be willing to do that, if he was willing to take you then that would mean he wasn't as bad as you thought he was. Your head would spin with thoughts about if everything you'd heard about him was true. You left the table followed by Changbin who was taking the first shift for the night, volunteering for it in fact. He followed close behind you until you were right outside your bedroom door, he took your wrist in his hand and pinned it above your head while holding his other hand over your mouth to stop you from making a sound.

"What are you playing at? Huh? What's the angle?" You mumbled against his hand and he roughly pushed you against the wall again,

"If I find out you're planning anything, and I mean anything. Your grandfather and everyone else will be gone. Just like Mrs Lu, remember her? Remember the way Chan slit her neck with ease?!" He forced you to look at the office door and your eyes welled up with tears, he was doing this on purpose trying to make you remember everything Chan had done. All this time you thought Chan had been the evil one but you could see now that it was Changbin.

"I'll make sure that happens to everyone you love if you hurt him. Understood?" You nodded and he pushed open your door waiting for you to go inside,

"Sleep well." He mumbled, shutting the door and taking his place right outside the door for the night, sitting on the chair and waiting for time to pass by. Your legs hit the back of your bed and you landed down on Chan's suit jacket from earlier. You slid it out from underneath you and held it against your chest, maybe he wasn't so bad after all? Maybe he was just doing all of what he did because it was what was expected of him? The boys? Namjoon? Maybe they were the reason he did everything he did. You pushed the jacket away from you hurriedly, what were you thinking?! He killed someone who helped raise you, put a roof over your head and here you were thinking he wasn't so bad? You'd heard the stories, vicious killings, drug runs, weapon cartel, money laundering not all of that could be rumours. He was bad. He had to be bad. He was bad for you, you had to get him to think you'd fallen for him and fast, the sooner you did that the sooner you could be out of there and the sooner you could stop looking at him as a person with hurt feelings rather than the cold-blooded killer he was...Is.

Tagline: @moonprincessdiviniation​ - The wonderful editor who stayed up late to do this for me even though I told her not to!!! @taestannie​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @calling-dips-on-j-hope​ @hugs4chan​ @ncitythoughts​ @inseonqt​ @cloudsgathering​ @atletino​ @mischiefmakerliesmith5​ @freckledquokka