#of all thing to break my art block is a snow white au

[gomzdrawfr]

warm up that turned into snow white AU as suggested by my friend LMFAO

well oc x canon stuff below cuz snow white's my oc Raven LOL

considering her name is Eira (snow) this unironically fit so well PFT

me and my friends' sona appearing when Raven sing PFTTT

they be hiding all the apples from Raven

also the funny involving my friend's oc, Orion who is the Prince

[seeing-the-light]

New Dream Appreciation Week Day 4: AU

@gleamful-lanterns @autumn-ravenclaw

A View Like This Read on AO3 “Excuse me... sir? Are you okay?”  Eugene blinked, startled at the sudden address. He’d spaced out a bit, and must’ve been scowling thinking about his stupid father, and this stupid train ride in the snow to get to him, because of stupid reunions or whatever, and-  “Fine.” He muttered, before he looked up from his seat to see who was addressing him- and froze.   The emerald eyes of a woman - younger than him, but not by much, he guessed - stared back at him, brimming with concern. He cursed, internally - this wasn’t the place to let himself slip like that - and straightened, abruptly, “Sorry. That was terribly rude of me, I-“  “Oh, no it’s fine!” She said, hurriedly. Her gaze darted up and down the train corridor as the man behind her coughed, impatiently. “In fact, I’m... sorry for disturbing you, actually, it’s just that... you’re sorta in my seat?” 

The words were delivered in the most apologetic way, but Eugene’s brow furrowed. “Oh? No, I’m pretty sure this is my- ah, drat.” He realized, looking over his ticket. “You’re right.” Stupid window seats.  Why would he want those, all there was to look at was- 

 “... You don’t want the window.” She guessed, tentatively, breaking him out of his thought spiral again. There was something... bubbling underneath her tone, now, and Eugene looked up at her again, from gathering his belongings to shift to the inner seat. 

 “Not particularly. What’s there to se-“ 

 “Can I have it please, then? I’d love to look outside and see all the people and lights and sheep and-“ She cut herself off, abruptly, and gave an awkward laugh, trying to compose herself. “Sorry. But. Would you mind if I took it, then?”

 Something of a smile had begun to cross his face at her enthusiasm, and he found himself rising to let her in and gestured as if he’d just opened a door for her. “Be my guest.” 

 This made her give a tiny giggle, as she squeezed in past him. The man behind her was practically glaring daggers at her for holding up the line at this point, and something made Eugene decide he disliked him instantly. 

 He sat back down as she moved to arrange her belongings. Mostly, he just stared at his hands, and the rest of car- for some reason it felt like watching her do that would be awkward, which was weird, because awkward wasn’t a feeling Eugene Fitzherbert felt very often. 

 ... correction. Awkward wasn’t a feeling Flynn Rider felt very often, and Flynn was all that mattered to most everyone, because he was far more exciting and charming, without any of the fears and insecurities. In short, Flynn was the much better option. 

 “So, Blondie-“ 

 “Rapunzel.”

 “Gesudenheit.”

 She gave him a slightly annoyed look, and Eugene raised his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “My name is Rapunzel.”

 “Rapunzel.” He tried it around in his mouth. “Rolls off the tongue, surprisingly.” His brow furrowed in thought, thinking back to his attempted university days. “Say, isn’t that some kind of flower?” 

 “It is!” All at once, her animation was back. Eugene was just relieved he hadn’t made another misstep - for some reason, he was already beginning to care what she thought. 

 That’s dangerous, Rider. He told himself, internally. Letting people in was dangerous. Pretty soon they’d find the cracks in your armor, and stab, hard, when the moment was just right. 

 But he wasn’t going to think about Stalyan, right now, and how she was why he was on this stupid train ride to begin with. 

 “I can’t believe you know that! Most people just think it’s... weird. Or random.” She shrugged, playing with her braid instead of looking at him 

 “I don’t think it’s weird or random, it’s kinda pretty.” He responded, before he could stop himself. Dangerous, Flynn, he thought, as her face flushed lightly because of it. “Well,” He amended, trying to recover. “It’s a little weird. But in the unique way, not the bad way.”

“Pretty and unique, huh…” She gave him a small smile. “I think I’ll take it.”

 “Great, because I regret to inform you I don’t offer refunds.” He quipped. Wasn’t his best work, but it made her laugh, so he counted it as a success. Not that he quite knew what he was trying to succeed at.

“So, Mr I-Hate-Window-Seats, you have my name, it’s only fair that I learn yours.” “Now that’s just not fair-“

 “You called me Blondie.”

“Because you actually have blonde hair!” Some of the passengers nearby turned to look over at them, so Eugene lowered his voice, though it did nothing to diminish his indignation. “I don’t hate window seats.”

“You seemed awfully keen to give yours up.” “Yeah, well, that’s because-“ Eugene gave a dramatic, long-suffering sigh. “I hate snow.”

 “How could you hate snow?” The look she gave him was borderline horrified. “It’s so white, and pretty, and it makes everything sparkle, and you can go sledding and make snowmen and snow angels and have snowball fights and then later on when you’re tired out you can go inside and wrap yourself up in cozy blankets and sit by the fire- snow is magical.”

“Some of us don’t have much cause for magic, Blondie.” Eugene said, in a much more subdued tone, staring at his hands. Stalyan used to make a show of being cold, sometimes, so he’d be obligated to give her his jacket. In retrospect, he thought she just liked watching him shiver.

 But his comment had left the conversation at an awkward pause- he had to save it, somehow. “It’s just cold, and wet, and it gets everywhere…”

 “…did you just use your hatred for snow to make a Star Wars reference?”

The small smile Eugene gave her could only best be described as dorky. “…maybe.”

 “Oh my god.” She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “You know, you still haven’t told me what your name is.”

 “Hm….” Flynn Rider or Eugene Fitzherbert. Eugene Fitzherbert or Flynn Rider. It should’ve been an easy choice. It should’ve been easy, second nature, Hey, the name’s Flynn Rider, rinse and repeat.

 So why did he have this overwhelming, annoying urge to tell her the truth?

 “Flynn.” He said, before he could second guess himself, though if anything the answer he’d chosen just made him feel more like a coward. “Call me Flynn.”

“Flynn.” Rapunzel’s eyes twinkled as she said it, and somehow in that moment it sounded better than any time anyone else had ever said that name. “I like it.”

                                                          * * *

 Eugene – no, Flynn, he supposed, because of that split-second decision – had a big problem.

 He was trapped.

 Now, most traps weren’t really enough to hold him down for long. He’d been in and out of enough cells and vaults to know a thing or two about breaking out.

 His current predicament, however, was … rather more delicate.

 You see, he and Rapunzel had chatted about things for about an hour or so in fits and starts, when she’d decided to put her headphones in and journal for a bit. Flynn, being the gentlemen that he always was, had pulled out a book, to give her some privacy and  make it obvious that he wouldn’t be reading over her shoulder.

 But somewhere in there, she’d fallen asleep. Fallen asleep, and now she was resting her head on his shoulder.

This is dangerous, Flynn, He reminded himself, again. If he knew what was best for him, he'd wake her up right now. But he didn't. Honestly, more than any personal discomfort, he just... wasn’t sure how she’d react when she woke up. But she’d whimpered in protest when he’d tried to move her off, and he didn’t have the heart (funny, really, that he still had one of those) to try that again.

 And he’d picked up a few things from their conversation – she was an art major, at university, who was somehow trying to cram as many additional majors and minors into her degree as humanly possible. She truly seemed to enjoy learning, just for learning’s sake, and that outlook… well, it was refreshing. It wasn’t an attitude he came across often in his own circles.  But this was her first big trip on her own, without anyone – hence the pent-up excitement that’d released in sporadic outbursts, earlier. She was juggling a lot, and she had a lot ahead of her, so maybe it was best to let her rest.

 She’d tried to turn some of his questions on him, too. Not in an intrusive way – he didn’t know how to explain it, but he didn’t think she was manipulating him. It seemed more like she was just… genuinely interested in learning more about him of all people, which was bizarre.

 So he’d told her a few things. How he’d recently had a bad breakup [leaving out the altar part]. How she’d retaliated by exposing his whereabouts to the father who’d abandoned him as an infant out of some misplaced desire to protect him.

 You know, just the light material.

Her eyes had grown round and wide, even at that much. “Maybe you should give him a chance, though. What if he really was trying to protect you?”

Flynn’s eyes grew harder, but Eugene could only think about hungry nights and always being on the run. “If he was,” He found himself saying, in a low tone. “Then he was just as shitty at that as he is at being a father.” Rapunzel had gone quiet at that. From what he’d gleaned, her parents were a shade overprotective – her father, in particular, seemed borderline stifling – but on the whole they were fairly supportive of her interests. There was something darker hiding behind that, he thought, something in her past that cast shadows over everything she said if you squinted for long enough – but she never alluded to it, and he wasn’t going to pry.

 His thoughts were cut off by the train jolting, abruptly. Rapunzel gave a startled yelp, looking around frantically, before slowly coming to rest on him. She glanced at his shoulder, then back at him. “Was I-“

 “Don’t mention it.” Eu – Flynn said, moving to stand slowly to see if he could glean any information on why they’d stopped.

 As if on cue, a voice came crackling over the intercom. “Good evening, passengers. It appears our passage forward has been blocked by a fallen tree. We’re going to do our best to resolve this as quickly as possible, but in the meantime, please sit tight. We appreciate your patience.”

“Great.” He muttered, aloud. “Just great. As if the snow wasn’t enough when it was rushing past us, now we’re –“

 “Flynn, look!” Rapunzel said, giving a tiny gasp. She pointed out the darkened window, and at first he was confused about what she was even seeing out there.

 But when he carefully leaned over to peer through it, and look up at the sky, his eyes widened, too.

 “Whoa…” He said, softly. Aurora Borealis lit up the night sky – he remembered that from when he’d tried a few university classes, too. The ribbons of green and blue and purple light danced across the atmosphere, and for a moment it was easy to feel like this was a private show, meant just for the two of them.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Rapunzel’s voice was filled to the brim with excitement, and despite the circumstances and not knowing what’d come after this, he couldn’t help smiling. Maybe it was okay not to think about names, or plans, and just live in this, brilliant moment for once. “The stars are coming out too, in the background –  I could probably point out some of the constellations, too –”

 “And I could tell you the stories about some of them.” He found himself responding. Maybe being stuck wouldn’t be the worst thing…

“I’d love that, Flynn.” Something about the way that she said it so earnestly twisted something in him, and he felt compelled to-

 “Eugene.”

 “What?” Rapunzel blinked at him.

 Eugene ran a hand over his hair, self-consciously. “It’s Eugene, actually. My real name.”

 He braced himself for accusations, questions about why he hadn’t told her the truth to begin with… but she just smiled at him, softly. “I like it.“

 “But-“ He said, baffled. “But that’s exactly what you said when I said my name was Flynn.”

 “It’s not about what your name is, Eugene,” she said, turning back to the window to begin sketching a rendition of the lights still visible through the window. “It’s about liking what I know about the person behind it.”

She said it so casually, as if it was a fact, and he wanted to protest. He wanted to insist that there were demons in his past she didn’t know the first thing about, wanted to tell her that she was better off attempting to befriend practically anyone else. Most of all, he wanted to tell her that he was decidedly not a good person.

 But maybe there was such a thing as magic, because something about the train car and leaning out the window to look up at the sky together, as she drew, with the prospect of sharing the stars and stories long after the northern lights died down stilled any words to that effect that he might utter.

Instead, he let himself accept what she said, for the time being. He let himself smile, a little, and relax. “You know,” He said, quietly. “I could get used to a view like this.”

[delicatelyherdreams]

Pragma(tic) 10: She Sees the World in a New Light

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 4272

Warnings: Language

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous 9: The Past Comes Back to Haunt Her

It’d been years since you’d actually gone out into the Mortal World and stayed for any amount of time. You used to make trips daily to reap your own souls before Pierce came to work for you and Clint agreed to help you out. But that was during the time of the Ancient Greeks and Romans; way before any of the modern technology came out.

Back then, people went to sleep right as the sun went down. They were quiet, reserved, timid, and shy. You were free to roam the streets of the villages, hardly a soul to join you. You’d enjoyed the silence of the Mortal World.

But now?

You couldn’t believe how much the world had changed.

The city was set ablaze with neon lights and lamps. You could hardly tell that it was nighttime anymore. People bustled around, talking to each other, talking on their phones, or not talking at all. Some walked with friends, others alone, but all were awake and lively. The colors from the street lights and glowing signs bounced off their skin, turning them different shades and making them ethereal and strange. You hadn’t seen anything like it in a long time.

Sure, Olympus had mimicked these mortal cities, but there was something unique about the Mortal World that Olympus simply didn’t have. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it was beautiful and comforting and it made you happy.

The atmosphere was warm despite the piles of snow on the ground. White fairy lights were strung from lamppost to lamppost. People talked with animated gestures, a smile on everyone's face.

Sipping on your frappuccino, your eyes traveled from person to person, taking in their clothes, their hair, their facial expressions, everything. You were able to gauge what kind of a person they were within moments and garner a bit of insight into their life by mentally scrolling through the registry of souls and taking a peek at their file (that was the good thing about being the Queen of the Underworld—because every single soul was technically your subject, you were able to access every bit of their information).

A hand squeezing yours drew your attention away from the people, and you turned your eyes to the man beside you.

Bucky smiled down at you, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. “You enjoying yourself?”

Pulling your lips away from the rim of your drink, you nodded and smiled up at him. “I haven’t had a night like this in forever. I think I was in my early five hundreds the last time I got to roam the Mortal World. It’s changed so much.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” Bucky took a sip of his latte and looked forward. “I’ve been coming here for decades, and every time I come, I find it astonishing.”

“Here? As in New York?”

“Heh, yeah.” He paused as he slowed to a stop at the corner of the sidewalk, a red stop hand commanding pedestrians to halt. “Steve and I love coming to Brooklyn. We practically grew up here. My mom spent a lot of time here before it got built on, tending crops and stuff. She moved away when the city sprang up, but I still love it here.” A happy sigh escaped his mouth. “It’s a beautiful city. I love coming here, especially in the winter.”

“Do you come here often?”

“At least once a week or so. I’m considered a regular at some shops.”

The stop hand turned into a walking man and you and Bucky followed the crowd across the sidewalk. Your voice quieted as you asked, “Isn’t that dangerous though? Won’t the mortals realize you never age and get suspicious?”

He shrugged. “Some might, but they hardly pay attention enough to realize that I still look the same as I did years ago. And the ones that call me out on it, well they deserve to know the truth.”

Your eyes bulged out of your head. “You told them?”

He laughed. “Relax, (y/n). I don’t tell everyone, only some. I think I’ve maybe told five people the truth in my 1,385 years of existence, and most of them are elderly at that. In fact, you’ll be meeting one of them tonight.” His grin was sly as he tugged you across the street by the hand. “He runs a pastry shop I’ve been dying to take you to. His cinnamon rolls are the absolute best.”

You followed Bucky down the street, eyeing the path ahead warily. “So, he knows about you and what you… are?”

“Yeah. I told him a few years ago when he called me out on not aging.”

“So then he knows you’re the real ‘Persephone,’ as the mortals call you?”

He breathed a laugh. “Yes, he does. And the first words out his mouth were, ‘I knew you were a flower child,’ and the second ones were, ‘Wait, you’re not a lady.’ Gods, it was mortifying to try to explain to him that the myths were wrong and that I was, indeed, not a woman despite the feminine name given to me by the mortals.”

“So am I to assume that he knows about me too?”

Tilting his head from side to side, he pursed his lips in thought. “I think he probably knows you exist, but I’ve never had reason to tell him about Hades, the goddess of the Underworld. I didn’t think it was important or necessary until I befriended you. But I’ll introduce you tonight. He’s a cool guy, and I think you’ll like him.”

Gods, you hoped you would; but you hoped he’d like you more. Mortals were not very hospitable to the gods that resided in the Underworld and dealt with death. They were afraid of you and that made them abrasive, hostile even. The last time you told a mortal you were Hades, she blanched with fear and ordered you (the best she could with her trembling voice) out of her house.

Bucky led you through the city, down another block or two, and stopped outside an old fashioned pastry shop. The red and white awning had faded to a salmon above the store, but the gold lettering that read “Pop’s Pastries” on the window was still crisp and neat as if it had been painted on yesterday. Bright lights illuminated the shop from the inside, casting a glow over the endless display cases of pastries and cakes as well as an elderly man sitting behind the counter on a stool with a book in his hand and reading glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

“Come on,” he said, tugging you in by the hand. A little bell over the door jingled as Bucky pushed the door open and passed through the threshold.

The old man behind the counter looked up, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well well well. Look who it is.” He fit a bookmark in between the pages of his novel and set it down so he could give his undivided attention to the pair of you. “If it isn’t my favorite celestial being. And who is this you’ve brought with you, Persephone?”

Bucky chuckled. “It’s Bucky, not Persephone, Arthur. We’ve been over this.”

“I know, but I don’t care.” Arthur’s eyes glistened with amusement. “Now answer my question: who’s the pretty lady. A goddess perhaps? She’s pretty enough for it.”

You giggled and shook your head. “I don’t know about pretty, but yes, I am a goddess.”

“Ah-ha! I knew it! Now, which one are you? No no, wait, let me guess.” He leaned back in his chair and eyed you, scrutinizing your entire figure. “You’re… Aphrodite.”

The laugh that tore through your threat was louder than you had intended and you quickly slapped your hand over your mouth. “Oh gods. I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. But no, I am not Aphrodite. That name belongs to the lovely Pepper.”

“Artemis then.”

“Nope. That’s Wanda.”

He hesitated. “Hera?”

Your lips curled up in a grimace. “No, that’s my sister’s wife Maria.”

“Your sister’s wife… You mean your sister is Zeus?”

“Carol, actually. But yes, the mortals call her Zeus.”

“So then, if your sister is Zeus, then you’re…” You could see the gears turning in his head.

You smirked. “You’ve got a fifty-fifty shot at this, mister. If you get it wrong, you’ll hurt my feelings.”

“Alright… My guess is…” He sprinted and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “Oh, lord; you’re wearing black. You are… Hades?”

A smile took over your lips. “Ding ding ding. We have a winner.” Bowing to him with an ounce of flounce, you said, “Allow me to introduce myself. I am (y/n) Aidoneus, the unseen one, eldest daughter of the titans Kronos and Rhea, goddess of the dead and wealth, and Queen of the Underworld, at your service.”

Arthur whistled in appreciation. “Those are some pretty impressive titles, your majesty. I am honored to be in the presence of one of the big three. Just, one question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why you hanging around with a minor god like Bucky here?”

“You know, I’ve been asking myself that for weeks.”

“Hey!” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “You love me and you know it.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, Springy.”

Arthur snickered, his voice ringing out through the otherwise empty shop. “Oh, to be young and in love. I swear you two act like an old married couple already.”

Your head snapped towards him and you lost even more color if that was even possible. “In what? No no. We’re not… I mean… No. We’re not a thing.”

“Oh, my mistake your highness,” Arthur said. “I only assumed that you were together cause Buck here has never brought anyone here unless they were special to him.”

“We’re just friends, Art,” Bucky said, holding up his hands. “Nothing more, nothing less. Believe me, I just barely got to be friends with her; she almost had my head the first couple times I broke in and she only just gave me the keys to the kingdom.”

“Ah, that is right. You were a little trespasser up until a few months ago, right?”

“Mhmm. He was.” You shot Bucky a glare. “However, I have learned to tolerate his presence in my kingdom. There are still places he’s not allowed to go, but he can come into my house so long as he has my permission first. Now.” You rolled your shoulders back and sauntered over to the display cases of baked goods. “Bucky tells me you have the best cinnamon rolls in the world and I’m curious to see if he’s right.”

Arthur popped off his stool and walked behind the cases, pulling a small plate out of seemingly nowhere. “I sure do. It’s an old family recipe, dating back to when the first cinnamon rolls were created in Sweden. I sell nothing but the best here.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Arthur pulled two cinnamon rolls from behind the case and set them on two small plates that were just the size for the pastries.

Mumbling your thanks, you took your plate over to one of the tables that stood in the vacant shop. You took your seat elegantly, sitting up straight with the posture that only royalty seemed to have. Ever so carefully, so as to not dirty your hands, you wrapped your fingers around the roll and lifted it up to your lips. As soon as the sugary icing touched your tongue, you were hooked. “Oh my gods, this is amazing!”

Arthur bowed his head. “Thank you, milady. I’m glad that they have your seal of approval.” He moved back over to his spot and plucked his book from the counter. “Well, I’ll leave you two youngins to it.  I’ll be in the back reading. Holler if you need anything.”

“Will do. Thanks, Arthur!” Bucky sat down at the table across from you and smirked. “So what did I tell you? Best cinnamon rolls in the world, am I right?”

You bobbed your head as you chewed. “Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right.” As you swallowed your bite, you dragged the back of your hand across your face to wipe away the crumbs that had undoubtedly made their home in the corners of your mouth. Smiling down at your roll, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied with your current situation, though a bit saddened. This place—as quaint and lovely as it was—felt like one you should be sharing with a lover. Naturally, the only lover you’ve ever had fell into your mind. You could just barely imagine the naiad sitting in the chair across from you, his brown eyes sparkling as you covered his nose with frosting. It would be the perfect date. You would’ve loved to have brought him here. A mellow sigh left your lips and you murmured, “Gods… Brock would love this.”

“Who’s Brock?”

You blinked. Holy fuck, had you really said that out loud? Welp, shit. Time to roll with this. You gulped. “He’s my… Uh...”

“Boyfriend?” Bucky’s voice was timid, cautious, perhaps a bit scared. He spoke the word like it was bitter on his tongue.

You breathed a laugh. “No. I don’t know what he is to me.” Your lips formed a thin line as you averted your gaze.

His brows furrowed. “How do you mean? How can you not know?”

“Well, our relationship… It’s complicated, you know? Like, we obviously have some sort of feelings for each other. He’s been there for me for centuries and he’s loved me for that long too. But it… It doesn’t feel like love exactly. I don’t know what it is.”

Bucky’s lips pursed, but he let you speak.

And you spoke. You told him about how Brock was the only one who treated you like a queen and goddess in the beginning, going so far as to pledge his undying fidelity to you and vow to serve you with his life. You hesitated as you started to get into your relationship with him, talking about the late nights you spent together with only the vaguest detail. You didn’t know why, but it felt wrong talking about it in front of Bucky, and you were almost ashamed of it. No, scratch that, you were ashamed of it. You felt like it was almost betraying him to admit what you and Brock had done in the dark. But, swallowing the lump in your throat, you continued with your pathetic tale, telling him about how in recent centuries, Brock hardly ever came around anymore unless it was to satisfy his own desires. He never stayed for the morning after or to actually talk to you anymore and it left you confused and hurt.

Bucky listened with solemn interest, staying silent until you finished. He frowned, his brows pinching together and his lips turning down with an agitated air. “Permission to speak freely?”

“Always.”

He took a deep breath before starting bluntly with, “It sounds like he’s a dick.”

You snorted.

“No no no, hear me out! From what you’ve told me, this asshole is using you and doesn’t seem to care about your feelings. All he wants you for is someone who will give him what he wants and someone whom he can just take and take from.” He shook his head with a growl that surprised you. You’d never seen the god of spring so… angry and dark. “He sounds like a dick who only cares about himself and he’s hurting you in the process. He’s using you and it’s not right. Who does he think he is to abuse a literal goddess such as yourself. You don’t deserve that shit. You don’t deserve someone who will use you and leave you. You deserve the world. You deserve all the stars in the heavens. You deserve love—not that fake lust—true love. You deserve someone who will take care of your emotions and treat you with respect and adoration. You deserve someone who will stay with you through thick and thin, treating you as if you’re a precious gem. You deserve someone—”

“Someone like you?” The words were gentle as they escaped your mouth; hopeful, sincere, begging. They surprised you, but their implications that you wanted him surprised you more. How could you imply that? You hadn’t even known each other for a year yet, and you were insinuating that he wanted a romantic relationship with you and you wanted one with him. What the fuck were you thinking?

How could you think such? You didn’t know him. He didn’t know you. He was just a friend and hardly even that. He’d only been down to your domain a handful of times.

But then again…

Each time had been more blissful and lovely than the last. Sitting with him in the garden… Strolling through Elysium… Picking flowers in the Meadow… Each time he visited drew you closer and closer to his light until you considered him close to your heart.

He turned to you, his astounding blue eyes looking at you with an ounce of surprise and, for a second, you feared you overstepped. But then his gaze turned kind and he smiled a smile so kind, so genuine, and so real that you lost your breath for a second. And he reached for your hands—both of them—and took them in his. His hands dwarfed yours, but they fit together perfectly. Holding one, he brought the other up to cup his face, to hold his cheek. He turned into you and pressed his lips against the palm of your hand.

You could feel his breath ghosting over your skin and it sent shivers down your spine in the best way.

And then his lips moved, and even the slightest twitch was enough to take over your senses. “If you’d have me,” he said softly, his voice just barely above a whisper. He turned away from your hand to gaze into your eyes. “I know I’m a young god—naive, stupid, innocent to the world—but I also know my feelings. And I do have feelings for you, (y/n). I know that we don’t know each other the best, but that’s the great thing about immortality, right? I have all of eternity to get to know you.”

You gaped at him, your mind on red alert as the meaning of his words kicked in. He wanted a relationship with you. Suddenly, your thoughts went on autopilot.

This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong.

He was less than half your age. He was a young god. You didn’t know him. He didn’t know you. He doesn’t know what he wants.

This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong.

What were you thinking? You’d just met him. You couldn’t possibly be interested in pursuing a relationship. You would be insane. You couldn’t take advantage of him like this, no matter how badly your subconscious wanted him. And even then, he was the god of spring, of life, and you were the goddess of the dead and Queen of the Underworld. There was no way that those two things mixed. How could they? They were polar opposites.

This is wrong. This is wrong. This is…

But what if it wasn’t? What if he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him? What if he wanted to know you like you wanted to know him? What if?

This feels right. This feels nice. This feels right.

Maybe there was a reason you felt safe and secure around him. Maybe there was a reason you called him instead of Brock when you had your nightmare. Maybe there was a reason he stayed in your mind, always lurking in the corners no matter the time of day.

This feels right. This feels nice. This feels right.

Your eyes traced his face and your heart hammered in your chest. If you were being honest, you wouldn’t mind trying to pursue something with him. He was kind, sweet, and genuinely wanted to know you. That was more than any other man had been in years.

But there were other factors than just what you and he wanted. What about the age gap? You more than doubled him in age. And then there was also the fact that you were practically ostracised by most of the gods and immortals on Olympus. Would he join you in exile from the others if he associated himself with you? And then what about his mother? She despised you with a passion, and there was no way that she would approve of you two dating. And what about…

Brock…

There were just so many fucking factors to it, way too many for you to work out in one day. You might’ve been a goddess, but that didn’t mean you weren’t without responsibilities that had to come before your love life.

You hung your head, removing your eyes from his body. “Bucky, I just… I don’t know…” you whispered, your voice cracking with strain. “How could we work? How could the world let us work? There’s just so much that needs to be accounted for and I… I just don’t see how it’s possible.”

“So long as we try, so long as we both want it… Anything is possible, really—even us being together.” He gave you a lopsided smile. “The Fates would not have had us meet if it wasn’t.”

You barked a bitter laugh. “The Fates could not be so cruel as to interweave our futures, Bucky,” you said in a shallow whisper. “It’s a curse to be stuck with me.”

“See, you view it as a curse, but I would see it as the greatest blessing they could give me. To be so lucky as to spend all of eternity with you who cares so much about people and who gives so much of herself so selflessly is all that I can ask for. You are so much more than what you give yourself credit for, (y/n). Let me be there to remind you of your value.”

“But what about Brock?”

He sighed and tightened his grip on your hand. “You can let him go. You don’t need him. He’s abusing you, (y/n), I know you can see that too. Just let him go.”

“I… I just… I can’t let him go that easily, Buck.” You hung your head. “I think that, deep down, I know the words you speak are true, but I… He’s been there for me—with me—for hundreds of years; I can’t just let him go. I know I should, but I can’t…” It was toxic, what you had with him; you knew that, but he had planted his weeds so deep in your heart that you could not tear them out so easily.

“What if I helped you?” he asked, his voice lifting an octave as he thought aloud. “I can be there for you, occupying your time so that way you wouldn’t have to see him. I have no obligations or responsibilities other than bringing Spring to the Mortal World once a year, and so I could be down there for you. No one says that you have to cut him from your life all at once; you can do it little by little and I will be there to help you every step of the way.” He bit his lip as he let go of your hand and reached up to hold your cheek.

You closed your eyes at his touch and leaned into him. His hands were worn and smooth and filled with warmth that filled you to your core.

“I can help you, (y/n), but you have to tell me you want this. I won’t make you decide one way or the other; this is your life, you’re in control. I am but a tool for you to use to help you along. You tell me what you want and I will help you make it happen. Okay?”

What you want…

You had virtually everything you could ever want: a kingdom, loving family, millions of subjects who respected you, power, wealth, good friends, the best dog ever, and security. But that wasn’t everything you wanted.

You wanted love. You’d never admitted it before, but you really wanted love. Not the stuff Brock gave you, but real love. If you remember correctly, the Greeks had given a name for the love you craved.

Pragma: long-lasting love.

You knew that you were never going to get that with Brock. You were chasing him down a one-way road that led to a dead end. There was no future of growth for you, no practicality whatsoever, only the same for years, decades, centuries to come. There was nothing more he could offer you, nothing he could give to you that you didn’t already have.

But with Bucky? Gods, there were so many options; he’d already proved to you time after time that he was invested in you and more than willing to stay with you. He’d risked getting flayed alive by his mother and his own safety just to get closer to you. With him, there was a chance that you could find what you wanted. No matter how minuscule the chance was, it was still there; a single thread hanging in the middle of the room that you were going to hold onto and climb until it either turned into rope or disappeared.

You had nothing to lose, so why not take a chance on him?

Next 11: She Takes a Stand

[vicunaburger]

Imperfect and Inhuman, are we?

Fandom: School of Rock: The Musical (AU Verse) Chapters: 3/? Pairing: Dewey Finn x OC (Magdalena Newton) The Players: Dewey Finn, Magdalena Newton, Ned Schneebly, The School of Rock Students Word Count: 1,618 Warnings: M for Future Things

Notes: I’m just gonna sit here like it hasn’t been 2 months since an update

Chapter 3 - Late Night - Taxi

It was 1:30am.

There was a light drizzle all day, which turned mostly to slush due to the drop in temperature the last few nights. Not enough to soak through to the bone, but enough to make one excessively damp, which was arguably worse depending on the type of clothing one sported.

Unhappily, Magdalena sat outside on the fire escape, her umbrella doing little against the wind whipping the rain around her at such a height. Something was wrong, and it was gnawing away at her nerves by the minute. Dewey was supposed to have been home hours ago, so why wasn’t he going into his room? His van sat parked in its usual spot, having been there when she arrived, but she didn’t see him go into the apartment building. Faint noises through the apartment caught her ear, but they weren’t his sounds. Lighter footsteps, a softer touch on the light switches and refrigerator door.

Even though they had been meeting every night for the past three weeks - sometimes only a few minutes at a time - they had not reached the point where she could venture in and out of his home as she pleased. Dewey often met her on the steps outside, or as he got home from band practice. Never the right time to invite her inside.

What if something had happened to him? He could be lying in an alleyway somewhere, beset upon by local vandals. Maybe he was tutoring one of his students and lost track of the time?

What if he was on a date?

Magdalena pulled herself into the fur collar of her coat, resembling an unhappy feline as she stared holes into the window glass. If he was on a date, without her, she was going to be extremely distressed to say the least. She wouldn’t be too angry with Dewey; perhaps she was too old fashioned in her attempts at courtship. Too slow to reach the intended result. Truth be told, she was rusty in the art of new-age courtship; the very idea that she was pursuing him without reciprocation was almost too much for her to handle. It was unladylike, but so was this entire century.

The soft sound of the window being opened in front of her brought her attention back to the present, finding herself face to face with Dewey’s roommate. He blinked at her, which she mimicked, and cleared his throat with an awkward grumble.

“Uh… can I help you?” He asked, giving her a suspicious glance.

“I take it Mr. Finn isn’t home?” Magdalena adjusted her posture, trying to put on a more intimidating air. “Why would that be?”

Ned’s eyes seemed to glaze over briefly, “He’s at the bar on 5th.”

“5th and what?” She fought the urge to roll her eyes, not wanting to risk breaking the tenuous hold she had on his subconscious.

“Matinee. It’s open mic night, he’ll be there for a while until someone drags him home. Usually me.” He explained, seemingly unbothered by her on the fire escape.

Nodding, she took a deep breath, standing in preparation for descending to the ground below, “Don’t worry about him tonight, I’ll take care of him for you. Go to sleep or… whatever you do at night. If needed, you’ll recall this conversation happened in the hallway like a perfectly normal human interaction. La revedere”

—

Magdalena stood just outside of the bar under an awning, shaking out her umbrella and doing her best to put herself in a more presentable state. Offkey caterwauling of drunken patrons made her regret her sensitive hearing, wincing as she opened the door to the chorus of an 80s love ballad.  

She weaved her way through the small bar like a serpent through the grass; the small room filled to the brim even so late into the night. It didn’t take her too long to find the musician, hearing his distinct laugh and following the sound to the far side of the bar. He was surrounded by empty beer bottles and a few random patrons - female, she noted - his face flushed with laughter and alcohol.

Dewey caught sight of his neighbor immediately; sticking out from the usual crowd wrapped in her fur trimmed coat.

“Snow! Wha- what’re you doing all the way here?” Dewey stumbled his way through the girls surrounding him, “I wanted to c-call, ya know. But I need your number… so I can call you and stuff. How’dya know I was here? Are you magic?”

He was trying to be subtle but having to yell over the noise made that rather impossible. Magdalena reached out her hands, grasping his shoulders to steady him as he wobbled in place. Dewey, perhaps misunderstanding the gesture, pulled her tight to his chest, engulfing her petite frame in a hug.

His body was so warm, she thought she might melt.

Magdalena wasn’t going to let his opportunity slip away, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the mixed scent of his soap, sweat, and the blood sluggishly running through his veins. Even when they would sit side by side on the front steps of his apartment, she had yet to be this close to him. Social convention dictated that a certain amount of distance must be kept between people of small acquaintance.

Technically, since he was the one who broke that social boundary, she felt comfortable enough to start showing him more physical affection, and not just hidden wordplay.

“Not magic, I’m afraid, just well informed. Your roommate told me where to find you, and warned me about how inebriated you might be.” Magdalena allowed herself the small victory of sliding one hand behind his back, patting him gently. “It’s late, Mr. Finn, don’t you have practice tomorrow?”

Dewey’s gasp was audible even with the noise around them, his grip tightening around her, “Oh… oh… OH SHIT. I gotta go to sleep. Gotta go home. Not in that order. Mags!”

He let her go, placing his hands on either side of her face as he struggled to see her clearly. She could feel him adjusting the placement of her head within his vision, trying to keep her head steady as he wobbled around.

“Mags, do… do you have a car? Did you drive?” Dewey leaned forward as though they were sharing a secret. “Can you take me home? Maaaaaaags, you’re my only hope.”

Magdalena didn’t answer him at first, completely thrown off kilter by his incredible closeness and his use of a new nickname for her. “Mags” was a new moniker in her history; often being reduced to “Magda” by close friends and family only. Was he being sincere? Condescending? His logic being muddled by the amount of beer in his system?

Eh, she would take what she could get.

Magdalena nodded her head, watching him follow the movement with his own, “Come, we’ll go home, Mr. Finn. No cars, but the walk will sober you up in no time. Get your things.”

It took a while to get him out of the bar; Magdalena made sure his tab was paid, and that he had his coat on before the stepped outside. Even walking halfway down the block was a struggle, but not because he had a few pounds on her and thought it was “a great idea” to lean on her for support. It was struggle because she could very well

It wasn’t the fact she had to support him; it was the fact she had to do so without using near her full strength. Truth be told, she could have easily lifted him off his feet and carried him over her shoulder, but that would have been terribly suspicious given her small stature. It didn’t help that he would start slumping over, tripping on something or other on the sidewalk and narrowly avoiding splitting his head open on the cement.

Magdalena managed to subtly put him back on his feet, thankful that he was too muddled to notice. Suddenly, Dewey stopped cold, wobbling in place as she kept him steady.

“Maaaaags. I can’t walk anymore. My legs are bad.” He whined loudly, “How far?”

She winced at the volume, knowing it was probably the result of him unable to hear himself clearly, “We’re not even halfway to your apartment, Mr. Finn. Come on now, if you can stand, you can walk.”

Pouting, Dewey slipped himself to the ground with dead weight, sitting down on the sidewalk with a huff, “Too far.”

For a brief moment, she questioned her mental faculties in regard to her affection for him, “Ahh… I see. Would you like me to leave you here out in the rain and call transportation?”

“…no.” Dewey’s pout became more pronounced.

“Then we find ourselves at an impasse,” Magdalena bent down to be eye level with him. “Tell you what, my home is about a block away. If you can manage that distance, I will offer my sofa for the night.”

He eyed her suspiciously, “Do I get a pillow?”

She nodded, getting up and extending him a hand, “Yes, and you’ll be next to a fireplace, Mr. Finn. I am nothing if not hospitable.”

At once, Dewey leapt up from the ground on his own, seemingly catching a second wind at the prospect of a warm place to sleep. He threw his arm around Magdalena’s shoulders, squeezing her tight to him with a goofy smile plastered on his face.

“C’mon, Snow White, take me to the cottage~” He waggled his eyebrows at her, earning him a soft bit of laughter from his escort.

“Cottage isn’t the word I would use, but do as you will, Mr. Finn.”

Writing Tags:  @hoodoo12 @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @a-subconscious-manifestation @asriells @missihart23 @heknowshisherbs @mrgeuse @amywright @beetlebitchywitch

[lokikingofasgardslover713]

Ch1: Auction Block

Masterlist

 The Auction House Masterlist

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson X OFC

Warnings: Angst

Summary: The team works a black-market soldier trade disguised as a fine art auction organized by what remains of HYDRA. The key to the vault each individual is kept in is inside the antique sold. The soldier up for auction tonight is top priority, the Avengers can’t allow them with their kill count nor skill go to others who will use them. But to add to it all, they have also taken on Loki at the urging of Thor that his brother is on their side. Though Loki is having trouble shaking the feeling he should be the one attending the auction.   

A/N: A soulmate AU. (I know it's been done, a lot!) In my AU, you know your soulmate by dreaming of them throughout your life, and when it is time to meet you ‘catch them’ in the dream. I'm still working on the ins and outs of this AU as I go. This will possibly be heavy on angst and pining and all that lovey heartbreak stuff. Needless to say, Loki nor his soulmate take well to the discovery of what they mean to one another, nor to how they are to act towards one another. Set after the events of Endgame. Everyone survived, including Loki, Tony, and Natasha.

Words: +5,000

————

Walking upon a woman standing out in the ankle-deep snow in a white gown was, new to say the least. What came as a shock was that for once they were alone. Had Loki not known who, or what she was, the god would have suspected the large framed woman a lost bride. 

The giveaway telling him she was no bride was the dagger she held dripping with blood, hand saturated in gore and staining the thin gown where it rested at her side. The wind whipped the gauze material around her bare legs and tossed lose, platinum blond hair around her stoic face. 

Platinum wasn't her natural color. Her hair was normally a dark auburn almost black when they met, but then again the setting around them wasn't the usual as well. The vast open, scraggly area of forest was filled with blowing snow and sprigs of dead limbs. Normally they met in calmer places such as the gardens of Asgard, but even then he had never gotten this close to her.

Bright violet rimmed irises bored into Loki’s own as he paused, studying her movements or lack thereof. Thick frame stood stiff, but oddly appeared relaxed, as if she was very familiar with the setting and circumstances. He sensed an air of defiance as she continued to hold his gaze proudly.

Strange enough the god noted though she appeared bold and proud she seemed ashamed of the gore that she glanced over before looking back to him. Loki had gotten close enough to note her skin break out in goose flesh as the wind picked up.

Venturing a step closer, the god was sure to go slow. Intuition informed him the woman was more akin to a frightened child. The look in her eyes told him she had been forced to mature well beyond her age at an unrelenting pace. 

Snow crunched under boot, breaking the silence but thankfully she didn't bolt. Cautiously he approached, steadily reaching his hand out for the dagger as he done so. This time there was a nervous flicker in violet orbs before she forced it back and glanced to the dagger as if having forgotten it. 

Like an obedient child, she lifted the bloody dagger away from her side for him to take. A small smile tugged at his lips, carefully taking it in hand to discard in a wisp of seidr. Noting her shifting on bare feet as he was finally standing before her, gazing into violet orbs. 

It was apparent to the god she wasn't sure how to judge his intent but stopped her fidgeting to still and puzzle at him. Reaching out a steady hand, Loki pushed the platinum hair away to get a better look at her eyes but paused his fingertips against her soft cheek. 

An explosion of chartreuse rimmed with bright violet was more beautiful than he ever imagined. Loki always found her in his dreams and nightmares, but never before had he been able to capture her.

She was like background noise when he slept. Even in nightmares this woman was a beacon of hope, a ray of light. Though always she had dark hair, he guessed the darker shade was its natural color, but now, he didn’t understand why it was white and he found her like this; lost. 

This was the first time he was able to lay a hand on her, to stand toe to toe with the woman. It was more comforting than he could have ever thought. Loki had chased this woman, his soulmate, through dreams and nightmares for as long as he cared to remember. 

Loki gave a kind smile, the woman appearing confused as to the meaning of it. She stayed still as he caressed over soft cheek, seen her wanting to give in and lean into the touch; but nervously she stepped a few inches back. Looking him over but remaining close so Loki could continue caressing over the soft flesh. 

A glimmer catching Loki's eye had him looking down to note the sparkling ring on her left hand, encircling the ring finger. Twined around the digit was a gold band encrusted with emeralds, golden snakes twisting around it in the form of his rune. 

There was only one other who had worn the ring and that was his wife Sigyn, who had long passed. Maybe Frigga had been right, this lost creature before him was his true soulmate. Meeting her gaze, Loki had known all along his marriage to Sigyn would be brief. 

“Loki,” a faint voice called out to him on the wind. 

Damn. Not now. 

Not now since he was finally able to touch her, see the woman before him for what she was. Frigga had always told him when the time was right he would get to catch her. That meant he was closer to finding her. That it was time they truly met. Fingers ghosted over her soft neck as the wind called to him once more and he caught apprehension flicker in her eyes. 

Preparing to tell her it was OK, Thor called out once more.

Damn.

Loki remained still, allowing her to step back towards a thicket he now noticed. Studying the woman close, he relished in the playful smile she gave before turning to dart into the bare limbs.

Taking a moment to look after her, though Loki felt a heavy heated hand on his shoulder shaking him, it gave him peace.

The god knew he needed to find her soon, he wasn’t sure he could wait much longer after finally catching her; as his mother put it.

Waking with a harsh huff. Damn oaf, knew how to ruin a good time.

Instantly Loki met Thor with a scornful gaze as he sat up to note the annoying alarm clock was going off. Waiving his wrist to shut it off, Thor stepped back appearing he was ready for Loki to fling harsh words his way as the young god stood to his feet.

Still the dark god didn’t break the glare he sat Thor with. “You hardly ever sleep. Is everything ok,” Thor finally ventured, studying his brother close as he clothed himself with seidr.

It was obviously time for them to get a move on. Since declaring Loki was on their side the Avengers had insisted he help. 

“Never better,” Loki huffed as if pained by having been woken but he had a feeling Thor knew better. Studying Thor’s own garb it appeared they were to possibly readying for a mission thanks to the do gooders. Though the team had taken to only briefing Thor who was left to brief Loki. “What is it this morning?” 

“Captain Rogers asked for us to stop a arms heist. The others are infiltrating some sort of auction-,” Thor explained, stepping out of the room for Loki to step next to him and follow the blond out to the kitchen counter, the area littered with papers and files.

“I believe I would be more suited to attend the auction,” Loki spoke up, having cut off Thor’s explanation as to what they were going to be doing. “I don’t see the others having the sophistication or know how to navigate the intricacies-,” the dark god spoke hotly only for Thor to cut him off.

“Are you sure you’re-,” Thor began, noting Loki seemed, off? Would one put it that way?

The younger god had been sleeping more as of late, and this was the first time he voiced being concerned over a mission. This wasn’t the first auction the others had tackled the past few months, but this was the first one Thor picked up an apprehension from Loki for.

“Just fine,” Loki huffed, more or less upset he had lost his chance to finally touch her, the one he had been led to believe was his soulmate, if there was such a thing. 

Honestly he had his doubts he had one as he looked to Thor, the oaf had found his own soulmate, the mortal Jane, so why would he not have one of his own? Holding Thor’s gaze, though he called the other an oaf he was far more perceptive then many gave credit for. Quickly Loki calmed his rage over not getting to speak with her and hinted to the files on the counter.

“Continue,” Loki huffed once more, trying to sound irritated, which he was but he had calmed some.

Though Loki couldn’t shake the feeling he should be going to the auction. He should be the one fetching the super soldier, as they called them. Loki noted Thor’s pause, damn oaf was putting details together, but thankfully he dropped it.  

“It's simple,” Thor spoke up, glaring at Loki.

Simple meant no casualties, protect bystanders, don’t make a scene, be a good guy. Pulling a face, apparently it was what the older god expected. “No casualties, they can’t question the dead,” Thor stressed.

“Well, they can’t question the dead, but I can,” Loki snipped, picking up the paper that had Thor’s scribbling all over it.

“Loki, alive,” Thor ordered, meeting his brother’s gaze.

The younger knew he was still being studied, knew Thor had an idea what maybe happening but if he was smart he would keep it to himself.

“Aye-. Alive,” Loki finally huffed in defeat, tossing the paper to the counter. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was the one needed to attend the auction, the one to fetch the soldier.

This was the last auction the team had waited for, meaning this was the one Bucky had been going over and stressing with the team they couldn’t allow out of their hands.

Having secured the last three assets auctioned off over the past few months was a relief but not as much as this one would be. In all the years he had been under HYDRA’s control, Bucky had never heard them call name to this one. A woman who, if he had to guess appeared in her very early thirties but it was hard to tell. Stasis and serum had an effect on one’s body that could make age determination hard.

Sitting on an elegant chase lounge with Wanda leaning in his side, the ex-asset ran over the stats they had been given on the woman being actioned off tonight. It appeared her ‘key’ was to be located in a green vase with a golden snake curled around it.

Tilting his head at the color scheme of the vase, it made him think of Loki, that pompous bastard was thankfully with his brother thousands of miles away. The shifting of Wanda getting his attention as she nodded to the auctioneer taking the stand. They had sat through several hours of ‘fake’ auction, but those in the loop knew what was next.

“Kill count is out the roof guys,” came Sam’s voice over the comm as Bucky nodded in agreement, Wanda settling closer while Bucky kept watch and she read people.

“There are several high-profile individuals here,” came Wanda’s meek voice next to Bucky who was looking several of them over.

“Yeah, looks like we may have some heavy contenders tonight,” Bucky spoke into his drink before placing it to his knee and focusing on the auctioneer.

Wanda shifted nervously next to him again. “I don’t like this,” she breathed, looking up to Bucky who had nano skin over his face to hide his appearance like her.

“We don’t have to like this. We just have to get the vase and were gone,” came Steve’s voice over the comms. Easy for them to say, they weren’t in the thick of the crowd as bidding began. 

The key in hand after almost an hour of bidding, Bucky and Steve stepped cautiously into the large warehouse. Steve at the ready with his shield while Bucky carried his go to riffle. The entire area an open, empty room but for a metal container towards the back and hidden in shadow.

It was, eerie to say the least as their boots echoed through the empty space. Bucky on guard for anyone about to jump out at them despite there was nowhere for anyone to hide. The sounds around them told them it was just them and the team outside, plus the one in the metal container.

Slowly they rounded the edge of the open steel box, a coldness pouring off of it that chilled them to the core. Shining the flashlight of his riffle into the container, noting it's only occupant was contained in a cryotube with flashing red lights all over the readout screen.  

The cylinder contained a white-haired woman in a black cryo suit Bucky was all too familiar with. The tube appeared to be thawing out, for lack of a better term, the vital readouts on the outside of the container showing she was waking. 

“She’s is waking up,” Bucky spoke over to Steve who was hot on his heels as he entered the container, placing the riffle over his shoulder.

Hurriedly Bucky looked over the read out, pressing his fingers over the touch screen before looking through the glass to note she was taking a breath every now and then. Unfortunately due to HYDRA, he had knowledge on how to bring others out of cryo, a sort of protocol he guessed. 

“What do we do,” Steve began, placing the shield on his back and watching Bucky as he moved his fingers over the screen, vitals and status of the containment slowly turning green.

“Best get her out. She will be semi-coherent, and easy to transport,” Bucky admitted as he stepped to open the container.

A few more presses and they both heard the vacuum lock on the door release with a loud hiss. Despite being tilted back, both men knew she would possibly fall forward due to being in a slightly lucid state. Looking to Steve as he wrapped his hand around the door handle Bucky nodded he was ready as Steve done the same.

Opening the door, the woman lurched forward into Bucky and Steve’s arms, both catching and dragging her to dead feet. Weakly she tried to look at the two who had her but was too addled as her head drooped back down.

“I got her,” Steve spoke up, taking her from Bucky to lift the addled creature in his arms.

Unfortunately Bucky knew how she felt as the two of them made their way out of the container. “Asset secure,” Bucky informed the team, hearing the quinn jet over the building move towards the exit they were headed to.

Stepping onto the waiting jet, Steve wasted no time in placing her to the gurney they had brought for this purpose. Hurriedly, Steve and Natasha pulled the nylon straps to secure her to the gurney, even placing restraints on woman’s wrists and ankles.

Looking her over, Natasha placed a small disk under the woman's ear to take a readout of all vitals. “They bleached her hair,” Natasha frowned, the braided mess of platinum blond not at all what she remembered.

“Yeah. They done it the last time she was out,” Bucky huffed as he looked at the woman’s vitals, glad they were steady, but-.

“Move,” Bucky barked the instant one vital spiked, metal hand wrapping around Natasha’s forearm to jerk the red head back from the table.

Ripping free of the restraints as if they were paper, the platinum blond fumbled drunkenly to be free of the gurney. Falling to the grate with a loud huff, she grabbed for the stable rail of the bed she had just fell out of and drug herself to shaky legs.

Leering at the others around her, trying to comprehend who, or what she seen exactly it registered she was on an aircraft of some sort. Numbly stumbling towards the cock pit to glare out to noting but bright blue sky and noting this wasn’t any kind of craft she had been trained on.

It did have similarities, but it was not registering. Pausing to squint out at the bright lit sky she steadied on the seats. Taking time to orient herself, this wasn’t a HYDRA ship. Turning carefully and supporting herself on the chairs, she surveyed the ones before her, hearing the blond man ask when the last time she had been out. 

“During the collapse of shield,” answered the red head who looked very familiar, violet gaze landing on the one she swore was from the Red Room.  

They group was made up of two read headed women, a blond man, and a brunet man.

Wondering her eyes over the group to immediately recognize Winter. “Hail HYDRA,” the woman’s unused voice rasped, it came out more as a question than a statement aimed at Bucky who held her gaze. Slowly the metal armed soldier stepped forward and shook his head no. 

They saw a light sparkle in her eyes, akin to relief. To her that meant HYDRA failed the takeover. There was no way Winter would fake that, no matter what. 

“They failed in their takeover,” Winter admitted, cautiously stepping closer, unsure what her mind was hardwired to do. 

In a mad scramble through her subconscious, the woman tried to think of what needed to happen now. She had no orders. No directions and no way off the craft. And there was no way she was in any shape to fight the group. 

Carefully she inched to the gurney, with the help of Winter who wasn’t as rough with her as he once had been. Gingerly she sat back onto the bed, leaning on Bucky for a bit of support. She noted the look in his eyes, he wasn’t the cold killer he once was, he had broken free, but that meant he knew the look in hers.  

“She’s too weak to fight,” Bucky began as she eyed them all. Bucky knew had she the strength she would have fought to get free; it was all she done when they pulled her out of stasis.

Stoically she studied them all as Winter remained close. The metal armed soldier was actually holding her up right, it appeared she was more addled than originally thought, but then again they hadn’t forced sludge through her veins either.  

“Wanda,” Steve spoke up hinting the younger red head step close to the woman along with him. The blond sure to keep close watch on the confused asset. “Can you help?”

Wanda looked the other over as it appeared the asset, who they still hadn’t a clue to what to call her studied the red head as well. The violet rimmed chartreuse irises were beautiful, but Wanda hated to think what had been done to the other to achieve them.

“If she allows me,” Wanda finally spoke stepping closer, slowly reaching out a hand towards the woman supported by Bucky.

This didn’t look faked, and dare they all think it, the platinum blond had an innocence about her. Violet eyes narrowed when red mist began to swirl around Wanda’s fingers. Truthfully, what choice did she have?  

Despite the over exuberant Shuri, the teen was sure to take it slow with the newest asset along with Steve. Shuri had been sticking around the compound to help out with the recovery of the other assets but had little luck with the other three that were now on the Raft.

They all hoped that it wouldn’t be the same with her, but from all intel, it appeared she had the same treatment as Bucky. They knew from Bucky she had trigger words, and always looked for a way to break free of HYDRA’s control, and that was a good start.

Thanks to Natasha, the red head had managed to coax the woman into a set of white scrubs in luau of the stasis uniform and got her seated in an exam chair that reclined a touch back. The entire room taking note it appeared the two women understood one another, Steve hated the red head had to leave.

Gently the techs placed electrodes through the tangled mess of white hair over her scalp at the direction of Shuri. Thankfully the asset seemed to understand they were all trying to help unlike the others brought from the auctions, or she was still too weak to fight. Either way, Steve was sure to stay while sending the others to debriefing.  

The young Shuri was sure to explain what they were doing to ease any tension. Steve speaking to the woman as well, reassuring her they were trying to help. They hadn’t gotten much out of her since Bucky left, the brunet leaving the things he and Wanda had been given at the auction on a table behind her.

Bucky had gotten a few things from her, explained about the fall of HYDRA and how Steve had helped him along with Shuri. Though all he got was a few jumbled words in Russian that amounted to her not knowing her own name, but the handlers had always called her Сокровище, or Treasure.

“You can relax, we’re only trying to help,” Steve continued, though he had a feeling she really wouldn’t. The captain noted Treasure place oddly steady hands in her lap, as of it was unexpected. Calmly the woman looked her hands over before looking back up to stare off in the mid-ground, a thing Bucky done. 

Looking back to the table, Steve noted the leather-bound book, the cover dyed a deep green with HYDRA’s signature seal on the cover. It struck him as odd it was green, more so the color of Loki’s own leathers. Taking one last look at Treasure, Steve took a step back and hinted to a tech to hand him the book.

With a kind smile, one obliged the captain who thanked them before moving back to the assets side. Opening the book, pages littered in Russian just as Bucky’s was, the blond noted the woman look up, studying him close as Shuri worked around them. 

“I take it you know what this is,” he asked hinting to the book, noting the brightly colored violet rimmed irises study the worn manuscript close. Steve seen the urge to speak flit behind her eyes, to tell all, but she only looked away as the techs backed away, ready to run test.

Keen hearing picked up on the click of machines starting up along with the feel of a slight charge from the electrodes.

Clearing her mind, Treasure knew this was to help. They were gentle, not demanding, not forcing her to sit here.

Winter, no he was called Bucky, informed her, Treasure, her name is Treasure, that Shuri had helped rid him of the chaos HYDRA had caused in his mind.

This would work, this would work, this had to work.

A tickling at the back of her mind told her it may not be that simple.

A slight twinge at the back of her skull.

She wondered if she would dream again, if she would remember the thing, no it was a person correct?

Whatever it was it was a something HYDRA had worked so hard to force out of her mind. 

In moments of collecting information, Shuri noted a jump in activity when Steve uttered a word in Russian and Treasure’s gaze flicked to him nervously. It appeared Steve was to engrossed in the book to notice he had gotten her full attention.

The captain began to utter one more under his breath, but Treasure had heard enough.

This wasn’t going to happen again. 

There was a lot of commotion coming from the room Thor and Loki were passing. The two gods having finished with debriefing, much to Loki’s annoyance, to hear someone cursing and glass breaking. The two stepping into the infirmary to find Shuri and her techs scrambling to lock down a room with Steve assuring all were out as the sliding door sealed. 

“What happened,” Thor began as he and Loki stepped up next to the captain to note the stretched shirt splattered in droplets of blood. 

“Her,” he huffed out, hinting to the room and the woman standing in the middle of the cleared area.

The only thing left standing in the room was the exam chair and the woman, Treasure, while trays and IV stands were scattered in a chaotic mess of fluids and tools. They all watched as the hand not holding a shard of glass tugged the leads out of platinum blond hair to fling to the floor.

She felt so lost, panicked, but was sure to keep it hidden as she looked around the room. There had to be a way out. Bucky was wrong, he was possibly working with them to gain control of her, possibly the same with the widow, what did they call her? Natasha.

Her mind still felt addled. Stasis hadn’t been kind to her this go around, but neither had the circumstances leading up to her return to HYDRA either. Taking time to survey the room, it was obvious there wasn’t any rush at the moment, no guards running in, no gas filling the room to put her out.

What did these Avengers want from one like her? She hated to tell them she knew little of HYDRA’s plans, and like it mattered if she did, according to Bucky the organization was no more. Or maybe they wanted her to pay for crimes she had no control over, maybe they were looking for a scapegoat to pin it all on.

Loki froze, all else died away, not believing who he was seeing. The woman from his dreams, she was really here, clothed in white scrubs with a piece of shattered glass in her hand like a knife, blood gliding down the jagged edge of it. 

“Where did you find her,” Loki asked quickly, watching her tear the leads free and began to study the room.  

“She was the last soldier being auctioned off,” Steve huffed, motioning Shuri and her techs out of the area. That only left he and the two gods. “She’s been mistreated for a long time, so she has trust issues.”

Steve looked away from Treasure to glance over at Loki. The dark god had fixed the creature in the room with a gaze unlike any he had seen Loki take with anyone. It wasn’t the usual predatory stare he fixed problems with, it looked more alike intrigue or reverence even.

Getting Thor’s attention, Steve nodded towards the dark god who continued to study the woman over as she turned in the same spot surveying the room and not paying them any attention. Thor gave a shrug, though now the golden god knew why Loki was taking to sleeping so much.

“May I,” Loki began, hinting that he step into the room to calm the woman. Surely they wouldn’t care.

Finally tearing his gaze away to look at Steve, arms across his chest. “Be my guest,” Steve shrugged, curious to what it mattered to Loki. “Just don’t hurt her,” the captain was sure to emphasize. “She maybe dangerous but she didn’t ask to be shaped into the wild animal you see in there.”

“Obviously. No one would ask to treated that way,” Loki spoke quietly, more to himself and as if from experience. Turning his gaze back to the woman who still hadn’t moved from the spot but appeared to be surveying the door that led out to where they were. “What do they call her?”

“Treasure, though I'm pretty sure that isn’t her true name. There’s nothing in this,” Steve spoke, holding the book up for Loki to glance at then back to her.

That wasn’t right. Loki knew she had a viable name and not some pet name. Maybe he could coax it from her, noting her gaze lock his through the glass. The dark god felt a tremor of excitement run his spine that she was here before him, now he knew why he felt he needed to be the one to attend the auction.

Her, Norns it was her, his soulmate, his heart. Treasure, yes she was just that. Emerald gaze holding her own and he immediately noted the innocent, yet troubled look in her eyes. Loki knew she was panicked, afraid of what was to become of her and knew that for once, he could help.

Aching hand clasped tighter around the shattered piece of glass she had managed to procure from one of the tablet screens. It was eerily quiet, so much so she heard blood dripping from her hand onto the scrubs as she locked the man’s gaze on the opposite side of the glass.

Cocking her head, the burning emerald of his eyes appeared familiar. Studying him through the thick glass, she noted the black leathers, and felt the tug of a faint memory as he spoke to the one she knew as Steve and another blond man.

The back of her skull began to burn the longer she watched the black-haired man. Narrowing her eyes at the slight twinge of pain when she tried to force the memory forward. That had left her vulnerable and in moments the raven-haired man was entering the room with her.

Violet gaze bored into Loki as he entered slowly so not to spook her. She had the same look as his dream, glass crunching under boot as he moved closer. A lost child trying to understand what was happening to her and unfortunately Loki could relate. 

Inches from her, the raven-haired man reached out to her, hinting to the shard of glass. Cautiously she chanced a glance to note it had gored her hand and the leg of the scrubs was saturated in bright crimson. Violet rimmed irises were quick to snap back to study Loki in efforts of placing his lithe frame.

Mind running and assessing, this one wasn’t just any man or super soldier. The energy, the prowess she sensed as he came closer, told Treasure he had no fear of her. And it appeared she was just about to prove to him just how fearful he should be. 

Tags are OPEN! REBLOGS ALWAYS WELCOMED!

Tags: @cruel-kitten  @moonfaery @dark-night-sky-99 @gramaeryebard  @katstablook @andiyholly @jovanna-shewolf @nickyl316h @aslandia726 @furstinnajoelle @itsbqueenthings @collinsstanharbour @jazzieomega @moonlightprime @bambamwolf87 @tomhardy41 @get-loki @drakonwild @alexakeyloveloki  @scorpionchild81 @devilbat @cherrygeek86 @iamverity @jessiejunebug

[sope-and-shine]

Christmas Special: Day 8

-> Pairing: Taehyung x Reader(ft. Yeontan) -> Neighbor!AU // Kinda childhood friend!AU but not really // Fluffy but kinda sad -> Word Count: 1.8k -> Summary: You just want to paint the snow like always, but your next door neighbor playing in the snow in practically nothing is distracting you. -> Warning(s): Character death - not a major character death// grief 

A/N: Definitely my shortest but most wholesome so far

When you were little, your grandfather would sit you by the back porch window with him when it snowed, and he’d make you both hot chocolate while you would paint the falling snow together. His pieces were always so beautiful, and he never ceased to amaze you with his talents every year that you’d work together. The way his colors worked so well together, how they complimented his style no matter who or what the subject was. He embraced his skills, and always encouraged you to do the same.

Your grandfather made you realize that nothing is more beautiful than falling snow. Nothing is more serene than the light droplets of white that rain down from above in soft flurries. Gentle, delicate, and not one the same as another. Each were genuinely unique, and came together to create such beautiful landscapes. They kept you entranced every time you saw them, and it made winter your favorite season. He made the cold inviting to you, and the way the night would fall so quickly began to draw you in as the years went by.

But as you got older, so did your grandfather. He’d started to have problems getting up and down the front steps, he’d started calling you to ask if you’d known where he’d left something when you were out of the house, and he’d even forgotten to lock the front door on numerous occasions. You and your parents were starting to become worried with everyday that he seemed to be getting worse. Each year that the two of you would paint together, made you worry for what year would be his last.  

Unfortunately, this last spring was it.

They say that April showers bring May flowers, but no flower could fix the heartbreak and the pain you endured from your grandfather’s passing that year. He was someone special, a beautiful soul that can only be found in the rarest of places. The one person who always encouraged your dreams and your beliefs, was suddenly gone like that. It changed you, and suddenly the cold was the only friend you had anymore as the winter months rolled in. They kept you snug in their embrace everyday that you spent by your window, looking to the stars in hopes of the first snowfall. Hoping for the one thing you still shared with your grandfather. 

And as nature would have it; it came.

That’s how you find yourself with the old easel your grandfather bought you on your 8th birthday, right in front of your bedroom window with your paints beside you. Your canvas sits untouched on top of the wood, with you just staring out of the window behind it. You’d been waiting all year for this moment to come around again, but nothing about it felt right to you. The weather was cold, your hot chocolate was piping hot, and the snow was falling softly against the side of your house. It was the perfect view for a painting, but your mind was everywhere but the painting you had wanted.

Would your grandfather have made a joke about your head being in the clouds by now? Of course he would, that’s what he did best. He’d probably scold you for not drinking your hot chocolate while it was still hot, and then he’d take a sip of his own and burn his tongue! Of all the silly things he was known for, his insistence of drinking or eating when they were still hot was his most redeeming quality. 

You missed it the most...more than anything.

A male voice yells from outside your window, “Tannie! Stop jumping on my snowman!”

You pull yourself out of your thoughts to look around the easel, seeing your next door neighbor, Kim Taehyung, with his small Pomeranian Yeontan. He was the last person that you wanted to see at the moment. He’s been your next door neighbor since you could remember, but neither of you have really talked since you were in middle school and he still wore big bulky glasses and tried to catch Pokemon in your backyard. He still tried to catch Pokemon on the occasion, but now he looked like he should be modeling for an agency while doing it. Now, he was one of the most popular juniors in your high school alongside the rest of the Bangtan Boys. 

It wasn’t that he was a jerk or anything, but everywhere you turned there were girls following him and his friends. Art class? Girls. Lunch time? Girls. Bathroom? They shouldn’t be there, but yes, there are girls. He wasn’t safe for your small circle, so you tried your best to stay clear. You’d talk at the occasional block party hosted at the Choi’s house, but it was just regular conversation to get you through the few hours you were stuck there those three days out of the year. There were some parties where the two of you would ditch and just chill together, but that was it.

“Tannie!” He whines again.

You giggle as you watch the small dog run around his owner without a care in the world, just enjoying the falling snow around him. That’s when you finally take notice of what Taehyung is wearing; or lack thereof. He’s wearing what looks to be a pair of jeans with a simple t-shirt and sneakers. No jacket, no hat, no gloves, and not even a scarf. He was just playing in the cold and the snow with no protection at all from the forces.

“Kim Taehyung, I swear…” You mutter to yourself. You shake your head and return to your easel, staring at the blank canvas before you to get back to work. Only the thought of the boy outside keeps you from working as he’s probably freezing from the cold without anything to protect him. The more you try to ignore it, the more you keep looking to your left to see what that boy is doing that’s so important he couldn’t put anything on. It got so annoying that you eventually just gave in. You slip on your snow boots, grab a thick jacket, and two hats from your closet, grabbing another jacket from the hall closet on your way to the front door. On your porch sniffing one of your Christmas decorations is the small puffball that insists on ruining snowmen in their progress. He obviously got tired of being scolded and wandered off while his owner was busy.

“Hey, there Tannie.” You bend down to pull the dog into your arms, earning a small yip and an attempt to lick your face in response. You look at him and without shame start using your baby voice, “Did Taehyungie yell at you too much? Is he just a big meanie?” You continue on and head into the falling snow, getting closer and closer to the unsuspecting boy throwing snow around. You shake your head, “Taehyung!”

He jumps in surprise but quickly breaks into a smile when he sees you with Yeontan in your arms, “Hey (Y/n)! Did you come to enjoy the snow with us?”

“Actually, I came to make sure you didn’t get sick,” You set Tannie down and pull your father’s jacket from under your arm and the extra hat from your coat pocket. You hold them out for him to take, “If you don’t put on at least a jacket, then both Seokjin and Hoseok are going to beat the crap out of you.”

“I’m just playing in the snow.” He argues. Despite his argument, he still accepts your jacket and hat, pulling the pink cap over his own pink locks. He gives you his boxy smile after adjusting the clothes, “Thanks for worrying about me.”

You shrug, “Yeah, well, you were distracting me from painting.”

“You’re still painting?” He asks. His shoulders have dropped, remembering the day he saw the coroner arrive to your home. He remembered the way you tried to follow after them, but your mother kept you in place with her and your father. He felt bad at your loss, especially knowing what it feels like to lose someone that close to you. He noticed your change instantly at school, but with the following he has never got the chance to check in on you. 

That was something he still regrets now.

Seeing your shoulders drop at the mention he tries to quickly defend his words, “I’m so sorry! It’s just-...you’ve been a little different since your grandfather passed.”

You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “Well, he meant a lot to me.”

“Well, if you ever want to talk or you just need someone to paint with you, I’ll do it.” He offers. He seems genuine, but you know better, “You don’t have to do that Tae.”

“I know, but I know how it feels to lose someone really important to you.” He says. He had lost his grandmother the year before, a similar situation to yours. He had been just as heartbroken as you, maybe more! Either way, he knew how you felt, probably better than anyone else. That’s probably why his smile felt more comforting than others, “Don’t be a stranger okay?”

You nod to him and return to your home, removing your snow gear and returning to your room. By this time, your hot chocolate is definitely cold, and the view from your window still isn’t any better. Taehyung was still out there, but at least he was warm now. His response to why he was out in the snow actually made you think a lot about your grandfather. He was one to go out into the snow without a care in the world too - You can still hear your mother yelling at him to not teach you bad habits. He always told you as you got older that your bond with him was a special one, and that when he couldn’t paint with you anymore that you’d have to find the best replacement. 

He wanted you to find someone that would bring him back to you.

Without even really considering what you’re about to do, you open your bedroom window to the snow. You clear your throat, “Taehyung!” He looks to you from his baby snowman confused. You smile, “Can I take you up on that painting offer?”

His confused look turns into one of his beautiful boxy smiles as he picks up Tannie from beside him. He races towards your first floor window and passes the small dog to you, taking his turn to pull himself up and fall onto your hardwood floor. Just like that, you had another person with you. You had someone willing to paint with you, someone willing to get sick to spend some quality time in the snow, someone who believed hot chocolate should be devoured when it’s steaming hot.

Someone that when he smiled, and told you jokes about his friends being crazy, made you think back to your grandfather every time.

[pointy-hat-witch]

Title: Avalanche Show: Boku no Hero Academia Pairing: Kirishima/Bakugou Summary:  An extreme version of a snowed in AU if you will :D // cw: only mentioned briefly but just to be sure: minor injury, abuse, claustrophobia, homophobia Wordcount: 9329

A/N:  Here is my piece for the @krbkbigbang​ !! it was so much fun writing for it and everyone was so motivated! Make sure to read everyone’s pieces and have some gorgeous art with it! 

Same goes for my fic!! Look at the wonderful artwork @evieebun125 made for this!! thank you so much!!

You can read it on AO3 if you want to! :)

Eijirou took a deep breath, holding it in for a second then yelled out with their arms stretched out to each side. Their lips are split in a huge grin, the sun reflected by the snow almost blindingly bright, illuminating the vast landscape in front of them. Their breath forming small puffs in front of them was the only indication for them how cold it was. They felt nothing but joy and adrenaline.

“Kirishima! Shut up!”

Turning around, Eijirou grinned at their friends who are still strapping on their skis and snowboards. Hanta shook his head in fond exasperation, while Denki and Mina grinned and giggled along with Eijirou.

“How about a race as soon as you slowpokes are ready?” Eijirou braced their fists against their hips, smug grin on their lips. Earning an outburst from Mina and a middle finger from Denki, Eijirou laughed wholeheartedly. Hanta glided over to them, stopping his skies with a soft puff and nudging them with his elbow.

“What does the winner get, huh?”

Eijirou crossed their arms over their chest, humming into their ski mask. After a few seconds of contemplation, Mina and Kaminari finally had put on their snowboards, they snapped their fingers.

“Last one buys dinner.” With a triumphal grin, sporting all of their sharp teeth, Eijirou pulled up their scarf and pushed down their ski goggles. “Go!” The yell got muffled by the fabric but all of them heard it loud and clear.

“Oi! Cheater!” Denki cried out before rushing after Eijirou who already leaned forward and pushed over the ledge into the white slope in front of them. Mina and Hanta were right behind them. The wind rushed around them, pulling at their clothes when they reached the first slightly steeper ledge. Eijirou pushed themselves upside down in a backflip, letting out an excited scream. A few seconds after, they heard a pretty similar outburst behind them from their friends.

A wild grin split their face, making their cheeks ache, their heart pump and their skin prickle with excitement. Moving in sharp slaloms, pushing the snow up on every curve, Eijirou targeted an even steeper ledge. They bit their lip just a little with their pointy teeth almost too much when they reached the edge and pushed themselves up for a high jump. They angled their snowboard almost to 90 degrees behind them, their eyes scanning over the horizon.

The view was breathtaking. Even if Eijirou could enjoy it for just a second or two in midair, they felt as if time stood still for that moment. They saw the white summits of the mountains around them, the sun standing high in the sky. Their breath made a small cloud in front of their face, glistening in tandem with the snow all around them.

They almost lost their balance when they landed on the ground again, too distracted by living in the moment. If they had paid more attention earlier, Eijirou would have noticed the small cluster of trees beneath the ledge, but alas, past-Eijirou had a lot to learn. Present-Eijirou, however, had to deal with the fact now.

When they straightened up, they were almost face to face with a bare tree trunk, looming high into the sky. Eijirou yelped before leaning their body to the side, avoiding the tree by a hair. Out of any rhythm, Eijirou maneuvered between the trees, only being able to see ahead for a few meters. The trees cleared away the next second and Eijirou had a relieved sigh on their lips when the ground suddenly vanished beneath their board.

“Fu-“

Eijirou didn’t know if they had their heart in their mouth or if it sank into their boots. The world tilted around them when they plummeted down. Fortunately, it was a short fall, maybe four or five meters, but it felt like at least 20. The snow sputtered up when Eijirou landed, doubling over with the force and rolling forward. Clenching their teeth, Eijirou tried to slow down, grabbing for anything to hold on, trying to push the board in front of them to break their fall.

After skidding for what felt like hours, and in reality, only seconds, Kirishima finally slowed down and came to a stop. Laying on their back, heaving out short huffs of breath, Kirishima took a couple of seconds to calm their racing heart. With shaking hands, they pushed themselves upright, one hand pulled their ski mask down and the goggles up. The straps on their feet came loose without a hitch before Kirishima tried to stand up. But already when they tried to angle their leg to stand up, searing pain shot through their right leg.

“Hng!”

Kirishima muffled their cry with a fist in their mouth. Their fingers fumbled over the fabric of their trousers, trying to feel any irregularity, fearing they broke a bone or something. When they reached their knee, they felt the kneecap out of place. Great.

With a huff of relieve, a dislocated kneecap was way better than the alternative of a broken femur or something similar, Kirishima grabbed their snowboard and used it as a crutch. Standing up carefully, Kirishima was on the lookout for their friends hopefully in the near distance. They didn’t see any skier or snowboarder whatsoever, what should have been strange in the first place, but what Kirishima did see and distracted them enough, was a hut right beneath them.

The hut was placed right at the foot of the small hill Kirishima stopped on its top, looking well lived in and well cared for. If luck was on their side, someone was living there right now and could help them out, maybe calling someone to get them.

With small steps, more sliding down the hill than actually walking, Kirishima bit their lip to keep them from crying out loud whenever their knee shot a wave of pain through their leg. If they had the chance to get their trousers off, they could push the kneecap back into place. They dislocated it often enough to know how to do that, after all. But they knew better than to do that and drive down the mountain on their own afterward.

When they finally reached the hut, they hissed out, grabbing on their snowboard a little tighter and raising one fist to rap at the wooden door a few times.

“Hello?” They called out after they didn’t hear any movements from inside. The small window next to the door had its curtains pulled, making it impossible to look inside. Subconsciously worrying their lower lip, Kirishima looked around. That hut was their best shot. Around them was nothing but snow and a steep downhill. Impossible with their injury, at the very least. And it was way too cold outside to just pull down their pants and relocate the kneecap but when push came to shove, they had no other choice.

While mentally listing their options, Kirishima’s hand found the doorknob to shake it, just for good measure and, therefore, Kirishima was dumbfounded when the door gave in and opened. Frozen in place for a second, Kirishima pushed the door open a little more, unblocking the view to the inside.

“Hello…?” Their voice was on the smaller side, unsure of how to proceed. Against better judgment, Kirishima took two wobbly steps inside, immediately grateful for the slighter warmer air. To their right was a small corner kitchen, complete with a stove, an oven, a sink, and several cupboards. To his left was something akin to a workbench for wood carving? At least, there were small wooden blocks and a few scattered figurines. In the middle of the room stood a couch that looked illegally comfortable right in front of a fireplace, framed by detailed stonework. Left and right to the fireplace were each a door, probably leading to a bedroom and bathroom respectively.

Disregarding the snow they piled in the entryway, Kirishima walked over to the workbench. Their fingers skidded over the small figurine nearest to them, a rabbit on their hind legs as if in mid-jump. It seemed fairly detailed to Kirishima’s untrained eyes, but still a little chunky. Maybe, Kirishima mused, it was either not finished yet or the creator was still learning and was trying out different things. A fond smile played at their lips when they thought about the person living here.

Kirishima was ripped out of their train of thought with a loud clutter from behind them. They spun around, almost getting whiplashed from it, and only registered subconsciously the firewood on the floor when they were grabbed by their collar and pushed back against the couch. Kirishima’s snowboard fell down as they lost their grip on it by the sudden pull, wincing when they put some weight on their injured leg, eyes wide in surprise.

Wild red eyes pinned them, rendering them speechless. A snarl split the other person's lips, showing a row of clenched teeth. A shock of blond hair framed the feral face, the strong hand on their collar keeping them in place. Kirishima took all of it in in under a second, too shocked to react.

“Who the fuck are you?!” He almost shouted in their face which was dangerously close. Kirishima’s jaw was slack, opening their mouth and closing it again.

“Uhm…”

“Open your mouth, fuckhead!” Kirishima saw the other hand balled up to a fist, raised in a threat and they didn’t doubt he would punch them. They raised their own hands, palms open in an unthreatening way, surrendering.

“S-sorry, ‘s fine. I wasn’t… I just needed help.”

At that, his eyes narrowed just slightly but lost some of their heat.

“Help?” His voice was still guarded but Kirishima felt relieved that they could talk to him. A lopsided smile spread on their face.

“Yeah, I, uh, fucked up my knee as I”, they gestured vaguely to their snowboard, “fell down a slope.”

His eyes darted down to Kirishima’s legs, assessing if they were lying but ultimately let go of their collar as he saw that they were standing on only one foot.

“Shouldn’t fucking snowboarding if you don’t know how.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, still pinning Kirishima with his eyes as if they would bolt any second. Kirishima didn’t dare to move too hastily, instead they leaned their weight against the couch to relieve their leg a little more.

They huffed out a laugh. “I have you known; I do know what I’m doing. Just, well, came off-road.”

“And then you decide to break into my house?” His gaze got a tad more suspicious again, to which Kirishima averted their gaze, guilty.

“I was just… your hut was just there, and I wasn’t trying to… the door was unlocked!” Kirishima rubbed their neck with both hands, actually feeling bad to just walk inside someone’s home, babbling without knowing what to say. “I’m sorry.” They settled in the end, bowing slightly.

“Hmpf.” There was a short silence until the other person finally let out a grunt. “So, what’s up with your knee?”

Kirishima looked up again, playing with the hem of their pants. “Dislocated.” They shrugged. “I can push it back in, shouldn’t take my board to go down, though.” They raised their gaze through their eyelashes again to see the other eyeing their knee with a deep scowl.

“Whatever.” He settled on, turned on the spot and crouched down to get his wood back on his arm. Kirishima let out a small sigh and was about to sit down on the couch to get his knee finally right again when they both stopped midmotion.

Kirishima recognized the tremor which made them freeze a second later than him. He bolted outside, wood again cluttering to the ground while Kirishima inhaled sharply.

“Close the fucking windows. Now.” He yelled when he skittered inside again, already closing the door and the shutters of the window next to it. Kirishima didn’t have to be told twice and even though their knee hurt like hell, they pushed themselves up from the couch, hobbling to the windows nearest to them. They pushed their good leg to their limits, almost jumping to the next window to close the shutters, locking the latches as tight as possible. The other was already running into the assumingly bedroom when Kirishima reached the bathroom. They just wasted a second to look outside the window which was facing the mountain.

A wall of white, glistening snow was rumbling down the mountain at high speed no one could outrun.

Kirishima’s mouth was dry when they snapped the shutters close as well. Tumbling backward into the living room, falling down next to the table, the other grabbed them and pulled them under just when the avalanche hit the house.

The sound was deafening, crashing against the walls, shaking the whole building. Kirishima squeezed their eyes shut, holding their breath, praying to all the gods they knew. It probably was only a second, then all they could hear was the crunching sound of moving snow until everything went silent. Deadly silent.

Kirishima could only hear their own breathing, their heartbeat. It was way too loud. When they opened their eyes, it, sure enough, was pitch black all around them. Their breathing got a little more rigid, a little faster when they heard a grunt next to them.

“It stopped, relax.” He whispered as if he felt the overwhelming silence as well.

Kirishima licked their lips, trying to get their mouth wet again. “Uh-huh.” Was all they could muster, before letting out a shaky exhale. They heard or rather felt the other moving next to them, almost blinding them the next moment with his flashlight. Kirishima squinted their eyes against the sudden light but felt an immense pressure fall from their shoulders. They both looked around, assessing the situation. There was no snow in the room at first glance, the windows were shut.

The blond scrambled to his feet, slowly as if any fast motion would get the snow moving again. Kirishima rolled from under the table on their side, slowly lifting themselves on their elbows. His cellphone illuminated the room just barely, but it was way better than nothing. He then panned around the room, gaze lingering on the small pile of snow in the fireplace. He muttered something Kirishima couldn’t make out as he walked over, looking through the smoke pipe.

“Fucking great.” Is all he said before he made a quick scan through the other two rooms. Kirishima waited, leaning against the couch with their back, still sitting on the ground. When the other came back, they just stared at each other for a few seconds until the blond huffed, slowly sliding down the wall next to him.

“So…?” Kirishima swallowed.

“So, fucking what?” He snapped. Kirishima licked their lips again, nibbling at them.

“So, what’s the situation?” They tried again, forcing their voice into calmness.

“We’re fucking trapped.” He growled, swinging his phone. “I have no fucking service whatsoever, every possible way outside is packed with snow and”, he pointed his thumb towards the fireplace, “our only air supply is cut off.”

Well, at least he was honest. Kirishima swallowed, letting the severity of the situation slowly seeping into their bones. They were in a wooden house, somewhere far away from civilization, no air supply, not cell phone service, and surrounded by meters thick walls of snow. Trapped.

It was strange how it didn’t set them into sheer panic or were at least worried. But no, they felt an odd sense of calmness, maybe resignation. There was nothing they could do right now, just wait for someone to find them. Maybe, probably, the severity of their situation just didn’t come across their brain and moved them into a state of false security.

Kirishima let out a long exhale. It would be no good to overthink now and getting into a frenzy. They patted down their pants until they found their own cell phone, without hope looking at its screen. It was cracked slightly, likely happened when they skidded down the slope and showed no signal as well. Kirishima put their phone next to them and slowly pulled down their snow pants.

“What the fuck you’re doing?” The blond barked, a little too loud into the silence. They both held their breath, waiting for anything to happen. But nothing. Kirishima continued to carefully peel their leg out of the fabric.

“Knee’s still dislocated.” They shrugged. “I can at least put it back in place, have nothing better to do.” With a wobbly smile, they finished pulling down the first layer of pants. They still wore some normal pants and thermal leggings under it, so they wouldn’t freeze while flying down the mountain on their snowboard. The pants did their job perfectly but taking them off with an injury sure was a hazard.

They awkwardly tried to wiggle out of their pants, hissing slightly when their leg moved too much when their new-found companion walked over.

“Stop, you’re making it worse.” He grumbled, swatting their hands away.

“Uh?” Kirishima answered confused. He just rolled his eyes and grabbed them by their elbow.

“Get up.”

Kirishima wasn’t in any position to argue, so they pushed themselves up from the ground with a little help. When they stood, still a little shaky, the other let them go and pulled down their pants.

“Not even asking for any consent?” Kirishima gasped, one hand on his shoulder to steady themselves.

“Shut up or I’ll kick you out.”

“Uh, kinky.”

“Will you the fu-“ “Yes, yes.” Kirishima chuckled. The situation definitely was too serious for stupid jokes, but Kirishima would succumb to their panic if they didn’t joke around. In the meanwhile, the other stripped them down to their underwear and the cold finally got to them.

Kirishima shuddered, looking down to assess the situation. His helper grabbed his phone to shine some light on their leg. They both inhaled sharply, Kirishima winced as they saw the swollen area, already fiery red, by all means, inflamed.

“Fuck.” They whispered. But nothing to fret about. They used the helpful shoulder and the couch to slowly sit down again, straightening their injured leg. They exhaled, completely relaxing their leg and pushed their kneecap carefully back into place.

The inflamed skin and muscle protested only slightly after loosened over similar incidents, but the pain was exponentially worse than usual. Kirishima winced again, balling their hands into fists and huffed out a few times until the worst was over. They leaned back against the couch, head lolling back.

“…you alright?” The voice was almost caring if one can say that just because it wasn’t snapped or barked at them.

Kirishima’s lips twitched into a small smile and hummed. “Yeah. A lot better. D’you have some bandages? Should stabilize it a little more.”

They didn’t receive an answer but with their eyes closed saw the light source move, hearing some rustling of clothes and then rummaging through drawers, presumably.

“Bakugou.” He said, when he was next to Kirishima again, a first aid kit in his hands. Kirishima watched Bakugou unwrap the bandage, holding still when he slowly swathed it around their knee.

“Does a first name come with that?” Kirishima mused after Bakugou was done. There was a pause and Kirishima was sure, they wouldn’t receive an answer, already grabbing for their leggings again.

“Katsuki.” Bakugou said in a gruff voice, helping Kirishima to stick their injured leg into one hole.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bakugou Katsuki. Even if it could be under better circumstances.” Bakugou rolled his eyes, letting Kirishima pull up the leggings over their boxers themselves.

“Yours?”

“Kirishima Eijirou.” Kirishima flashed him a toothy smile. Together they got them back into their pants, which at least two times more comfortable and warmer, not making their teeth clacker anymore.

“So”, Kirishima sat down on the couch, which was just as comfortable as it looked like, massaging the skin around their knee, “do you… I don’t know, have a plan? Did that happen before to you? Because I sure as hell never was trapped under an avalanche.”

Bakugou huffed out some air and if Kirishima didn’t know better, they would say it was his form of a laugh.

“Yeah sure, twice a month I have an appointment to get hit by an avalanche. Nothing keeps you more humbled.” In the sparse light, Kirishima could only make out some edges of Bakugou’s face but they were sure, he had a snarky grin on his lips.

“Shut up.” They laughed, shoving him with their elbow. Bakugou kicked against their healthy leg, leaning back against the backrest. There was another silence between them before Bakugou continued.

“Putting it simple for you, hair for brains”, Bakugou ignored the offended side-eye he received, “we have no air supplies. We have … I have no fucking idea. Maybe a day until air runs out.”

Kirishima swallowed, staring against the dark ceiling.

“I’ve got some canned food and water, that should definitely be enough for two days for us. But”, he trailed off.

“If we don’t get found in the next 24 hours, game over,” Kirishima whispered. The silence stretched between them this time. Mulling over, what exactly happened, Kirishima’s brain caught up with reality and they felt their heartbeat speeding up. Their vision, which was already limited due to the lack of light, dimmed even more and their breath came out shallow.

The reality was, that they were probably going to die. No more outings with their friends, no more sport, no more laughter with their family, no more having fun. It wouldn’t even be over in an instance. They had time to think it over and over again until lack of oxygen would make them delirious, killing them slowly.

“Oi, shitty hair.”

Bakugou’s voice sounded so far away, but Kirishima made their head turn to the side, blinking toward him.

“Listen to me.” His voice sounded so calming, Kirishima thought, staring at Bakugou’s mouth to understand what he was saying. “Breath with me. Inhale”, Bakugou waited until Kirishima followed his instruction, “hold your breath… and exhale.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, Kirishima following Bakugou’s lead in calming his breathing. When the fuzzy feeling in their brain and the rush of their own blood in their ears finally ebbed down, Kirishima nodded tiredly at him.

“Thanks. Sorry”, they laughed dryly.

Bakugou eyed them suspiciously but ultimately leaned back again. “Shut up.”

With their mind calm again, Kirishima’s thoughts wandered. Did their friend make it? Probably. There was likely a warning or they saw it early enough to get out of the danger zone. That’s why there were no other skiers or snowboarders around. Ugh, they should be more conscious of their surroundings.

They probably alerted the authorities that they were missing. Hopefully, they saw where he drifted up to. They swallowed. But… if they won’t find them in 15 minutes, they’re going to assume they’re dead. Another look at their phone confirmed that it was already about 10 minutes since the avalanche hit them.

“Does somebody know, you’re here?” Kirishima whispered. It felt wrong to speak too loudly.

“No.” The silence felt even heavier. “Were you alone?”

Kirishima shook their head. “We were four. I kinda took the wrong turn?” They huffed. “I think they know the general direction I went, but”, Kirishima bit their lower lip, “it’s already been at least 10 minutes since the avalanche hit us.”

“And?”

“Do you know about the golden 15 minutes?”

Bakugou shook his head, face falling into a deeper scowl.

“If you’re hit by an avalanche”, swallowing around the lump in their throat, Kirishima continued, “it is said, you have 15 minutes in which you have to be found. After that, your body would shut down because of the cold. So”, Kirishima rolled against the stiffness in their neck, “if you’re not found within 15 minutes, you’re likely to be pronounced dead.”

Bakugou was silent for a few seconds. “Are you saying you’re pronounced fucking dead by now?”

Kirishima shrugged. “Yeah. Probably. No one knew there was a hut and I found shelter.”

“Fucking great.” Bakugou snapped. “So, nobody knows where I am and you’re already dead to them. Fat chance in getting found in the next 24 hours.”

Just being able to nod, Kirishima stayed silent.

Bakugou grabbed his phone from the small coffee table, jumbling their light source around, illuminating the room in sharp edges. The former pleasant-looking fireplace now just emanated dark mocking energy, making Kirishima’s stomach churn.

“How much battery you’ve got left?”

After fumbling for their phone, Kirishima looked at its battery percentage. “68%. I can turn on energy control for a little longer life. But I don’t know what that will be of any help…?” Kirishima raised an eyebrow. “Like, we have no service whatsoever.”

Bakugou stayed silent for some time, seemingly in thoughts, then pulling their phone out of their hands. He started walking through the room, both phones raising toward the ceiling. When he repeated that in the other two rooms, he left Kirishima in temporary darkness. It was wildly unsettling, Kirishima had to admit. They were never trapped anywhere, never got stuck in an elevator, not even locked themselves accidentally in their apartment or bathroom.

When Bakugou returned, he tossed Kirishima’s phone the couch, slumping down next to it.

“No luck?” Kirishima asked tentatively.

“What do you think, huh?” Bakugou snapped without any heat. Kirishima suspected it was just Bakugou’s default modus to bite back, they didn’t let it bother them anymore.

“I have 72% battery left”, he started, tapping his phone on his chin, hence, shaking the light around, “would probably better to have at least one phone on for light. Don’t wanna deal with another panic attack.”

“Hey!” Kirishima pouted.

“Let’s switch to your phone”, Bakugou continued undeterred, “if we get by pure luck some reception, your phone will probably blow up with notification first, so we’ll notice. I turn it off for … I don’t know. When we need more light if we’re not dead by then.”

Kirishima gulped. They could be dead in a day. That was something they couldn’t really wrap their head around just yet, but nodded, nonetheless. They turned on energy control before activating their torchlight modus, turning their volume up. In case, well, they’d be lucky and got some service. Bakugou turned his phone off, putting it down next to Kirishima’s.

Then, he stood up and walked in the bedroom, from where he soon appeared again with a thick blanket. Just letting it fall down on Kirishima unceremonially, earning a light “oof” from them, he rummaged through some drawers in the kitchenette. Returning with some granola bars and water, he sat down next to Kirishima, who didn’t move from under the blanket.

“Dork.” Bakugou huffed, pulling the blanket from their head and scooting a little closer. Wordlessly they huddled under the blanket, Bakugou pulling both legs close, while Kirishima still had their injured leg straightened out. Bakugou passed over the box with the granola bars before they both ate in silence.

“So”, Kirishima wiped some crumbs from the corner of their mouth, “what are you doing here completely isolated and nobody knowing where you are?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “We’re not yet in that state where you can unlock my tragic backstory.”

Kirishima snorted. “And which boss do I have to defeat to unlock it?”

“Using side quests so established your intention”, mumbling around his own granola bar, Bakugou looked almost amused, “and either you make the right choices and receive a reward or don’t.”

Suppressing a grin, Kirishima smiled benignly. “And what would the first quest be?”

“Entertaining your host with recounting your most recent adventure.”

“’Host’”, Kirishima huffed. “Alright, storytime it is.” They took a sip of their water. “My friends and I go on vacation together at least once a year. We all have busy lives and our jobs swallow up a lot of our time, so we don’t see each other that often”, Kirishima shrugged, “We text and chat and stuff like that, but meeting up is kinda difficult if everyone works different shifts and such. So, we decided we save up enough money to go on vacation together every year. Last year we went to Italy, backpacking around some part of the southern coast, making a short detour to Sicily. This year, we wanted the opposite. High up in the mountains, cold weather, adrenaline.”

Kirishima nibbled on their next granola bar, chancing a glance to Bakugou who just stared ahead, not interrupting. His face didn’t look as menacing when he wasn’t scowling or baring his teeth.

“We arrived yesterday, just hitting the town first, getting lunch and dinner, window shopping. Y’know, just to talk, to have fun, hearing what everybody’s up to.” Kirishima licked over their lips, their heart-clenching slightly when they thought about probably never seeing them again. Not hearing Mina’s infectious laugh, not performing some silly plan with Denki, not holding pseudo-philosophical conversation with Hanta. They cleared their throat, pushing those thoughts deep down, for now.

“I know Mina since High School and the other two we met at college and totally got along at first meeting. Once we … ah”, Kirishima interrupted themselves, “sorry, that would be not so recent.” After a small chuckle, they continued. “We used up all morning to hike up this mountain, securing a good route for snowboarding, or skiing in Hanta’s case. Well, looks like, I fucked up a little in paying attention to my surroundings. Or more, like, I loved my surroundings too much to see what was in front of me, if that makes sense? Anyway, the rest you basically already know. Accidentally left our route, drove through a path of trees and fell down a slope in front of your house. And here I am, almost got my teeth punched in by my ‘host’.”

Kirishima tilted their head sideways, now looking obviously at Bakugou, waiting for his reaction. Bakugou just hummed noncommittally.

“Was that to my ‘host’s satisfaction?” Kirishima grinned.

“Your host would be fucking pleased if his guest wouldn’t be such a menace.” He grumbled, elbowing Kirishima in their side, making Kirishima chuckle.

“What did my host do this morning?” There was a beat of silence in which Bakugou had to think about answering but felt gracious enough under their circumstances.

“Shoveling some snow and chopping wood.”

Kirishima looked at him incredulously. “Wow. Seriously?” They chuckled. “Here I am, telling my story as elaborated as possible and you just”, they gestured vaguely at him, “come at me with this?”

“Not my problem how you word your damn stuff.” Bakugou grinned fiercely, taking some sips from his water. Kirishima exhaled, shaking their head.

“Unbelievable. Did I at least finish the quest?”

Bakugou glanced over them slowly, letting out a long exhale.

“What is the scariest thing that happened to you?”

Kirishima blinked once, twice before answering. “Except for this?” Bakugou didn’t deem that worthy of acknowledging. Kirishima hummed to themselves, waging their option. There were some pretty bad moments in their life, but did they want to tell them to someone they don’t know? Well, considering that they both probably will be the last people they ever see, why not?

“When I was about 12, my biological father came over. He and my mother divorced when I was 6 and I would see him every now and then. They didn’t have the best relationship, but it was ok. Well, that changed when my mother remarried another woman. My father did not like that. She remarried when I was 10 and I only knew that he was an asshole about it, but my mother didn’t say any more about it and I didn’t really care.” Kirishima paused, playing with the empty wrapper. “I don’t know how my father got wind of it, but on my 12th birthday I… I kinda came out as gay because of this boy who I invited.” Despite everything, Kirishima chuckled. “I was a mess, let me tell you. He just had to look at me and I was blushing and stuttering, super embarrassing.”

“Well, he didn’t like me back but was chill about everything, so I just had to deal with my first heartbreak. But a week or so later”, the smile fell from their lips, “my father came over, hammering on the door, screaming for my mother. It was super scary. I went to the top of the stairs to watch what was happening. They screamed at each other, but basically my father found out, that I’m … not straight and blamed my mother for it because she “taught” me that.” Kirishima did some air quotation marks, huffing.

“I felt so bad. Like, I was taught it was ok to love whoever you want but then I find out that people will give you shit when you love “the wrong” person.” Kirishima took a shaky inhale, concentrating on their hands to stop trembling under the blanket. “My father… got violent. I was just so scared. I couldn’t do anything. My mom was fortunately right behind my mother and punched my father square in the face. He pretty much bolted after that and I never saw him again. But”, Kirishima swallowed around the lump that had formed in their throat, “I felt so bad. Like, that was so … I was a coward. And I never wanted to feel that way again.”

Kirishima turned their head to see what expression Bakugou wore but was taken aback when their eyes met Bakugou’s who stared at them intensely.

“Uh…” Kirishima squeaked, feeling their cheeks getting hot.

“I’m-“, Bakugou cleared his throat, “I’m sorry you had to go through that shit.” He grumbled, not averting his eyes. “And”, he bit his lip, suppressing a groan, “thanks for being so honest. I didn’t … you … fuck”, he paused for a second, “I didn’t expect you’d answer.”

A small smile played at Kirishima’s mouth. “But you asked.”

“That…” Kirishima could see Bakugou mulling over his words. “I didn’t expect you’d just lay out the heavy shit. Just… I just wanted you to keep talking.” His voice grew quieter at the end, his eyes now fixating on a spot at the opposite wall with a glare.

“Bakugou”, Kirishima never questioned their next move, they just reached for Bakugou’s hand under the blanket. “Are you scared?” They whispered, their eyes gleaming in the sparse light. Bakugou’s hand twitched but didn’t pull back, instead squeezed back just a little after a moment. He nodded sharply, barely visible in the darkness. Kirishima squeezed his hands in reassurance wordlessly.

“When I was 15, Mina and I witnessed a car accident”, they continued unprompted. “We stood at a traffic light and a car ran a red light, colliding with oncoming traffic. There was this really loud impact noise, metal scraps flying around, their horns were both blaring, smoke everywhere. Fortunately, no fire or anything.” Kirishima absentmindedly started drawing circles with their thumb on Bakugou’s hand.

“For a few seconds, nobody moved, and I was … kind of, I don’t know, reminded of that situation with my father and my feet, they just started moving without me thinking. I was sprinting over to the cars, trying to figure out how to get them out of it. I probably just was the trigger to get others to move, but the next second other people where there and we pulled the cracked door open, helping the people out.”

“I … I hope, you don’t think I’m bragging”, Kirishima chuckled, “but I felt a little proud at that moment. I finally moved.” Slowly exhaling, Kirishima looked back at Bakugou with a wide grin. “Maybe I was going to be a hero like I always wished to be.”

Bakugou snorted. “Figures. With that stupid hair of yours.”

“Bakugou!” Kirishima gasped in mock offense. “My hair is great, okay?!”

“Just keep telling that to yourself.” Bakugou’s corner of the mouth twitched what could have been a smile, which Kirishima counted as success. Another silence filled the room between them, their hands relaxed intertwined under the blanket. Under any other circumstances, Kirishima would have called it romantic. But in this very second, it didn’t even come to their mind.

Still, their eyes roamed over Bakugou’s face, lips pushed out in a small pout but otherwise calm, staring at the wall. His eyes were glassy, deep in thought, barely covered by a few strands of his blond hair falling slack over his forehead.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima exhaled. Bakugou’s eyes focusing back at their face was the only indication that he was listening. “What was the worst thing you have ever said to someone?”

Bakugou’s eyes widened, his face going through a few emotions within the blink of an eye but settled ultimately on furrowed brows and pursed lips. For a moment, Kirishima thought they asked the wrong question with all that hatred in Bakugou’s eyes.

“I,” Bakugou rasped, voice laddered with emotion, “I say a lot of fucked up shit if you haven’t noticed yet.” Kirishima only nodded silently. “And I… I grew up to be fucked up. Not anyone’s fault really. Just … just a lot of shit that shouldn’t have happened, things that shouldn’t have been said and all this fuck.” Bakugou grumbled, staring at Kirishima’s chin in order to avoid their gaze.

“I could probably give you a whole book with all the shitty things I said and … and did. But…,” Bakugou exhaled, face relaxing only slightly. In his eyes flashed a small speck of sadness, as if he remembered something, contemplating about it. And Kirishima gave him the time he needed. They didn’t move in fear it would shake Bakugou out of his thoughts.

“About a month ago,” Bakugou continued way more quietly, “I kinda … snapped. I don’t really know why because there was nothing that, fucking … prompted it or something. My mother said something, I,” he stopped himself, squinting his eyes, “I don’t even remember, and I just lost it. I yelled at her and she yelled at me and it was all a screaming shitshow until my dad came and … I just told them I never wished to be born in the first place, not in this shitty family, not to be the person I am and,” his exhale shuddered, “I basically blamed them for all my fucked up personality. I don’t need to be empathetic to know what hurt looks like.” He laughed dryly at himself.

“The next day I left. No note, no anything. Left my phone, bought a throw-away and came here. Trying to … figure things out. Or something.”

Kirishima saw his jaw clench, his hand clenching around their own. And it broke their heart. They didn’t know Bakugou at all but seeing him this hurt and full of regret hurt them on a physical level.

“Did you come up with anything?” Their voice was steadier than they felt, tentatively to not make Bakugou close up. Bakugou shrugged, head lolling back, so he stared at the ceiling again. “Not really. Figured, I either drop out of college and search for work. Maybe … maybe seeing a therapist or some shit.”

Kirishima mirrored Bakugou, leaning their head back to focus on nothing in the darkness. “Sounds like a first step.” They nodded. “Are you unhappy with what you study? Or why drop out?”

“Because,” Bakugou huffed, “I only study chemistry since my parents insisted. Told me to put my otherwise good head to some use.”

At that, Kirishima had to chuckle. “I see a few good things with your head.”

“Huh? And what would a hair for brains know about that, huh?” Bakugou grumbled, but Kirishima could hear the faint smile in his voice.

“Well, first of all, you’re really good looking. Was the first thing that came to my mind when you were about to throw punches at me.” When Bakugou didn’t say anything, Kirishima swallowed. Was that too forward? When they felt Bakugou’s hand shake in their grip, they whipped their head around just to see him tremble with laughter. He covered his face with his other hand but couldn’t cover the wide grin on his face.

Smiling to themselves, Kirishima elbowed Bakugou slightly. “Second of all,” they continued with a light chuckle, “You seem to be more than just … mathematically smart. Like,” they threw a thumb over their shoulder, “these figurines look pretty neat.”

“Are you actually a stalker?” Bakugou suddenly said in utmost seriousness. “You followed my pretty face here, “accidentally” fucked up your knee, so you could come crawling to me? And probably caused this avalanche yourself by some device, so you could be all alone with me and die together?”

Kirishima’s eyes widen with every second as they stared at Bakugou giving his explanation with a straight face. And then they burst out in a whole-body laugh. They bend over, holding their stomach, wheezing in air. A few seconds later, Bakugou followed suit. Rolling up into a ball, he laughed into his knees, not concealing his joy.

The unreality of their situation and Bakugou’s over the top explanation, let loose some of the tight feeling in Kirishima’s chest which made it easier to breathe, to laugh. Wiping away some of the tears that spilled out of their eyes with the underside of their hand, they pressed out between their giggles. “And if?”

“Con-fucking-gratulation.” Bakugou attempted to say deadpan but failed through his wheezes, making Kirishima laugh out loud again.

It took a few minutes for them to calm down, some last chuckles scattered in between them. They sat in comfortable silence for a little while, when Kirishima shivered slightly. They pulled up the blanket over their shoulders again and forced their leg to angle awkwardly to get under the blanket as well. Kirishima didn’t know how long they were trapped in here, but the temperature had dropped significantly already.

They saw their breath in front of their face when they exhaled, almost mockingly glistening beautifully in the faint light of their cellphone. Next, they noticed their fingers feeling colder than they should. They aspirated against them to get them warmed up, rubbing them against each other. Bakugou grunted, doing the same procedure.

With a huff, he stood up abruptly, jogging over to the kitchenette to grab some more water. They put the bottles down on the coffee table in front of them, continuing into the bedroom again to emerge seconds later with another, thinner blanket. He sprawled it out over Kirishima bevor crawling back in again.

They both cocooned themselves under both blankets wordlessly, trying to plug any airholes except for their heads to keep as much warmth as possible trapped under the blankets.

“We’re going to die here, aren’t we?” Kirishima whispered, eyes following the small spots of dust that whirled around them.

“Yes.”

Kirishima closed their eyes, slowly exhaled. They tried to really wrap their head around this. It was just so impossible. A few hours ago, they were having the time of their life with their friends, not a worry in the world and now. Now it was almost all over. Did they regret anything? Were they happy with the choices they made?

“What would you have done differently, if you had the chance?” Kirishima brushed their already pressed together shoulders. They sat as close as possible to feed off of each other’s body heat but with the cold that was all around them, their own warmth dropped as well.

And with it their inhibitions. Bakugou opened his mouth and didn’t stop talking for some while. He told Kirishima about his former best friend who he treated like shit, about some girl in a rock band he felt rather close with but pushed away nonetheless, about another girl who was in culinary school and had one class together with him and was the only one who didn’t flinch when he was too abrasive and shitty in general. He told Kirishima about how close they were, how she had told him about her assault and her self-defense classes and his help to spare with her. About how he, eventually, kicked her out of his apartment because he felt like they were getting too close.

He told them about his family, their demands, their plans with his life. How he never felt he was good enough for them, no matter his accomplishments. About how the one and only time his mother hit him square in the face, was the first time he didn’t feel like punching back, but just acceptance that his life was fucked up beyond repair.

Kirishima didn’t interrupt him, didn’t console him. It wasn’t time to really talk things over, they were beyond that point, but to just let things out they were never able to say out loud. They didn’t acknowledge the tears that were streaming down Bakugou’s face or his sobs or his silent screams into the blanket. They just leaned their weight against his body, just to give them reassurance that he wasn’t alone, that they weren’t going anywhere. They would be with him until the end.

In turn, Kirishima told Bakugou about their encounters with their father, about how their mothers met. They told him about their loving family, both biologically and found family. They talked about their friends, how they ended up in the hospital more times they could count because Denki and Mina just had to try to grab the bus while on their skateboards or ran down some dunes at the beach just to topple over when they couldn’t stop colliding with other people.

Kirishima told him about the time they came out as pansexual and eventually as non-binary, how people either straight out rejected them for that, some needed time and their family accepting them as who they were right away. They rambled about some partners they had but never really worked out, because they always felt like they were only giving and taking advantage for. How they would lie over and over again in their friend’s arms, crying because another person walked out of their life.

Their one-sided storytelling grew into a conversation, about Bakugou questioning his sexuality to be on the ace spectrum because he never felt any sexual attraction to anyone but ultimately didn’t care enough to put a label on it. They talked about their experiences with partners, what their plans for the future were, what they imagined their life would look like in a few years.

Kirishima wanted to have cats, a big house to run in, a garden, a partner, maybe kids. They weren’t sure about that part. Bakugou wanted at least one dog, either house or apartment and enough space for himself. He didn’t know about family, it never was a factor he weighed in.

Their conversation slowly trickled out, their voices rasp by now after talking so much. They both drank something, and the silence felt deafening.

“I ruptured one of my eardrums,” Bakugou’s voice sounded gruff. “A few years back when I tried some experiment alone in the lab.” He shrugged. “Went not the way I wanted, things exploded, and I was too close. My ears were fine for a while but then the ringing started, and Round Face made me go see a doctor. Basically, I’m going to lose my hearing in about five years or so in one ear.” Bakugou huffed, disappointed with himself. “I started to learn sign language. But I … fuck, I don’t know. Pancake Face made me start it. Is that even necessary when I can still hear?”

“I think, there is nothing wrong with at least being able to, you know?” Kirishima huffed into the blanket. “Worst case, you know another language. You have enough brain left to learn one, do you?”

Bakugou barked out a laugh. “More than you, definitely.”

“Huh.” Kirishima tilted their head, looking back toward Bakugou. “I… I think… uhhh”

“What? Spit it out.”

“My head is spinning.”

Bakugou turned his head slowly, staring into Kirishima’s eyes. They were slightly unfocused, glassy.

“Fuck.”

“That’s not good, isn’t it?” Kirishima chuckled, swallowing down their panic. Bakugou grabbed for the phone, the light dancing around the room making Kirishima’s head hurt. As the screen lightened up, Bakugou huffed.

“Only three hours have gone by. You shouldn’t … that is too …,” Bakugou clenched his jaw, glaring at the phone in his hand as if it would ring if he just stared hard enough.

“Dude, it’s alright. Won’t make a difference in the end. I just don’t,” Kirishima took a deep breath, willing their tears back, “I don’t want you to be … alone, you know?”

“Fucker, think about you first, will you?” Bakugou grumbled, pressing himself harder against Kirishima, jostling them a bit.

“Tell me something?” Kirishima mumbled, leaning their head down on Bakugou’s shoulder. They could feel his shoulder stiffen for a moment, hear him swallow before relaxing again.

Bakugou rambled about some of his lessons, about the obviously stupid professors who didn’t know what they were talking about and he had to do all the extra work and about the slightly better professors. About the one professor who worked with him after his accident when no other professor wanted to go near him. He was almost expelled if it weren’t for this professor. Bakugou owed him a whole lot, he realized. He made a mental note to thank him when he stopped himself. There was no point anyway.

He continued about sports he tried out to counter his aggressions, Uraraka’s help with her knowledge about martial arts when Bakugou felt his tongue grow heavier with every word. He took a few deep breaths, felt them weighing him down more than they helped.

“Bakugou?” Kirishima’s voice sounded so weak in his ears.

“I,” he cleared his throat, “fuck.”

“You too?”

Bakugou just nodded. The silence stretched between them as they both came to terms with what was happening. Kirishima peeled out one of their arms to grab their phone, turning it on to be greeted by a screaming bright screen. They tapped around, opening their music app. The first few notes rang through the room, making them flinch. However, Kirishima didn’t turn down the volume as he set the phone down on the table again.

“Did you know?” They mumbled, tongue lead and heavy in their mouth making them slur the words. “Deaf or hard of hearing people like to listen to music with heavy bass. They feel the music more than they hear it that way.”

Bakugou hummed in confirmation, closing his eyes to listen to the heavy rock music. They both didn’t know how much time went by as song after song played out. Time felt funny right now. Sometimes the music sounded deeper and bizarre as if it was slowed down, other times it sounded high pitched like it was fast-forwarded. The only steadiness they had was the weight against each other, their hands laying over each other.

“Bakugou?” Kirishima’s voice almost didn’t leave their throat, too constricted by the lack of oxygen it was getting. They felt their vision blur, black spots dancing around the corners of their view.

“Hah?” Bakugou rumbled, leaning his cheek on Kirishima’s head.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Bakugou inhaled, focusing the rest of his energy on Kirishima.

“Someone… someone calling my name?” Kirishima chuckled over their own stupidity.

“Hallucination,” Bakugou whispered. “Lack of oxy-… oxygen. Makes you imagine things.”

“Huh.” Kirishima hummed. “I don’t feel cold anymore.”

“Me… neither.”

“Mhm.” Kirishima cuddled up against Bakugou. “I’m glad I met you. I like you. We could have been such good friends. You would love the others. Well, maybe not right away. Because you’re you. And you hate anybody at first glance. But I think, I think you would love them.”

Kirishima didn’t know if they actually said those words or if they just thought them. There was only one last ray of light in their vision that slowly faded the same way he felt Bakugou’s breath growing shallower, as was their own.

The last things they heard were some strange pounding, prodding sounds, the crunch of snow, and they swore they heard Mina scream their name.

--

The snow was glistening as they ran past it, huge walls of spray snow flew over the ground whenever they made a curve, the wind howling around their head. The sky was clear blue, no cloud in sight. It felt like a wonderful dream that they never wanted to wake up from.

When they jumped over a ledge, doing a fast turnaround flip they got a glance of the figures behind them. Their friends raced after them, but they never caught up with them, they never do. This time, however, there was a fourth figure which wasn’t there the last time.

This figure overtook the other three with a margin and came at him in full throttle. But instead of being scared, a booming laugh escaped Kirishima’s mouth, adrenaline fueling their muscle to race them even harder. But whenever they looked over their shoulder, the figure would be closer and closer.

Ah, right. Bakugou would be always by their side. Even to the bitter end.

Kirishima knew this hill inside out, ran it over in their head over and over again. They knew which way to take to get to the foot of the mountain the fastest, where the steepest slopes where. And where the small patch of woods where right in front of a small dip. They would never forget that way, couldn’t. And they made sure to stay far away from it.

The next time Kirishima looked over their shoulder, Bakugou was close enough that they could see his wild grin. He was cackling and they could hear it even over the rushing wind. And their heart made a backflip the same time as he jumped over another ledge, grinning with their pointy teeth at Bakugou.

When they landed, Bakugou had overtaken them. Kirishima’s smile faltered just a little. No, Bakugou couldn’t go ahead. They needed to stay together. Making themselves smaller to race after him, Kirishima took a small detour, dipping down another slope that ended again in the pathway of Bakugou. And just like they wanted, Bakugou was right there when they emerged behind the giant boulder again.

“Do you know how to brake?” Kirishima yelled against the wind and snow.

“Hah?!”

“Do you know,” Kirishima was now right next to Bakugou, “how to stop?”

Bakugou shot them a feral grin as he mouthed the word “no”. Kirishima didn’t know how they could ever get used to Bakugou’s recklessness. Well, not that they minded.

They were approaching the end of the mountain with high speed and Kirishima bit their lower lip, trusting Bakugou but, nevertheless, were worried sick. What if Bakugou … ? No, that wouldn’t happen. Couldn’t.

Kirishima pushed their board back a little to lose speed before making a sharp turn to stop right at the end of the slop. Their head whipped around to see Bakugou right behind them, copying their exact movements and came to a stop right in front of them. Well, almost. He didn’t reduce his speed enough which made him topple over, crashing into Kirishima and taking them down with him.

Kirishima was laughing so hard, his rips hurt.

“Shut up, hair for brains!” Bakugou grumbled, but his lips were twitching to smile as well. They both tried to get up but would topple over again and again until they were both laughing, heads pressing against each shoulder. Bakugou was the first to get a hold of himself, pushing himself up on his elbows, face hovering over Kirishima’s.

“You munchkin pea brain.” Bakugou chuckled with drawn eyebrows. “I love you so much.”

Ah. Right. This wasn’t a dream. Kirishima almost forgot that they were actually alive. And it felt so, so good. They didn’t fight the smile that lingered between them.

“I love you, too.”

[jessethejoyful]

the real super secret chapter

okay here’s the art school au blurb with the link and the whole thing

this isn’t an epilogue so much as it’s a continuing blurb, which I hope to do more of, within the bounds of that fic. I hope to do some featuring penny and agatha as well :)

read it here on ao3

words: 2,040

SIMON

I genuinely don’t know how I let Baz talk me into this. Maybe it’s just because I’m weak. Weak when it comes to him, absolutely. And I’ve never been good at saying no to anyone.

When he asked me, I was actually flattered. He’s always shy with me, especially about this, and I thought it’d be a nice way to maybe make us more comfortable around each other.

“It won’t take that long,” he’d said, looking sheepish as he sat across from me at our table in Penny’s bakery. We were waiting for her to get off, so we could go see a gallery a town over for an artist that she loves. “It might be a little awkward, but I think you’d enjoy it in the long run. Maybe. I understand if you don’t want to though -”

“Baz,” I’d said, cutting him off and reaching across the table to grab his hand. “I’d love to. Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.” He’d smiled, and everything was grand.

So that’s how I find myself, a few days later, completely nude, hunched over in a chair in Baz’s sitting room. I can feel my legs starting to shake, and the crick in my neck is already so sharp I’m worried I’ll never be able to straighten it again. There’s a very bright lamp shining up at me from the floor, which I can’t imagine looks very good but Baz had seemed satisfied when he’d placed it.

He’s a few feet away, perched stiffly on his stool and his hand brushing in quick, constrained strokes across a canvas. It had taken him nearly an hour just to sketch everything in, and we’re already pushing into two.

Every time I try to say something, he shushes me. I want to snap that I can talk without moving the rest of me, but I’m not trying to pick a fight. I’m just antsy. He’s got music playing over his speakers, soft indie music that I don’t know very well, and I’m brimming with pointless chatter. I want to focus a little less on my aching limbs, or the fact that I’m posing naked for my posh painter boyfriend, who’s only been my boyfriend for two months.

It’s been great, don’t get me wrong. He’s pretty fucking singular, and if I’m being honest, I’m a little obsessed with him. I think he knows it. But he eats it right up, smug git that he is. And I think he’s a little obsessed with me too, so it kind of balances out.

His aunt randomly showed up to visit at the end of December, just out of the blue, no warning. He’d decided to stay here with me for Christmas, instead of returning to his family’s manor (that’s what he called it - Pitch manor. I think he’s richer than I realized, considering his career choice), and his family was apparently none too happy about it. So Fiona just appeared, banging on his door on Boxing Day and demanding he visit with her.

As it turned out, he hadn’t actually told his family why he was staying, just told them he wouldn’t be home. Fiona lamented this to me after we were introduced (me as “Simon, my friend from school,”), really laying it on thick (“So ungrateful! We’re his family! What would my poor late sister say?!” - fun way to discover his mother’s dead), but Baz just rolled his eyes.

“For fuck’s sake, Fiona,” he said, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch from me and crossing his legs. I tried to make it look like we hadn’t just been curled up there together, kicking the blankets off and folding my legs beneath me. “Can you blame me for not wanting to deal with Malcolm and Daphne? They’re exhausting at the best of times, and I just didn’t feel like it. Alright?”

Fiona’s eyes moved slowly to me, and I immediately felt a thrill of fear go up my spine, which was ridiculous, but she’s kind of scary, with this mad white streak of hair tucked into her ponytail and a nose bridge piercing. “Oh, no,” she said, smirking and sitting back in her seat, “I can’t blame you at all. Not one bit.”

Baz didn’t seem bothered, unshakeable as he is, but I was quaking. I also didn’t know if his family knew he was gay. Fiona seemed cool, but Baz is cagey at the best of times, and we’d only been together officially for about a week at that point.

“So, Mr. Snow,” Fiona began.

“Just call him Simon,” Baz snapped at the same time that I said, “Yes ma’am!?” He glared at me like it was my fault his aunt looked like she could murder me with her pinky finger.

“Simon,” she simpered, waving a hand in the air and still smirking, and I thought sneers might be hereditary. “What’s your concentration in, Simon?”

I honestly couldn’t tell if she was mocking me or not, but when I glanced at Baz, he gestured at her tiredly and nodded. “Well - my degree’s in digital animation, specifically 2-D. I do a lot of cartoons otherwise, comics and stuff, but I’m planning to work in animation after uni.” She actually seemed pretty interested and asked me some more about my work, and told me she’d love to see something of mine sometime. I agreed happily, and I could tell Baz was kind of impressed we were getting along so well.

She’d brought a Christmas gift with her (a new mug, this one printed with the words ‘Don’t touch me, peasant’ on the side, which I thought was actually fitting), and told me she would’ve brought me something if she’d realized Baz’s new friend was so chill. Baz actually had a gift for her too, a couple of old vinyls wrapped really nicely, and she seemed pretty excited (It took me a while to decide whether or not Baz actually likes his aunt - I finally determined that he does, but it seems like his family doesn’t really know how to express any emotion other than disgust or cruel amusement).

When Fiona finally left, with a few parting jokes and another heavily sarcastic friend comment, Baz slumped down on his couch and groaned very loudly. I dropped down beside him, grinning, and kissed the side of his jaw because I hadn’t touched him once during the hour or so Fiona had been there.

“I take it you didn’t tell your family about me,” I said drily, and he looked at me sideways.

“My family knows I’m queer,” he said slowly, squeezing my hand tightly like he needed an anchor, “but my father isn’t exactly the most accepting. Fiona is, and so is Daphne, for the most part, but I find it easier to just… not bring it up.”

I rested my head against his shoulder, and he leaned his head against mine, and we sat like that for a bit. “I think Fiona figured us out,” I said after a while, and he snorted.

“She’s a Pitch, unfortunately, so she’s sharper than I’d like. All of my mother’s family is.” I nearly started in on him about his mother, curious about what had happened to her, but I decided that was a discussion for another time.

Now, leaning over in my chair, I let out a small whimper as a sudden twinge of pain goes up my arm. The sound startles Baz, who jerks his hand away from the canvas and blinks at me.

“Are you alright, Simon?” he asks, leaning forward on his stool. His eyes flick to the clock, then widen. “Jesus fuck, we’ve been here nearly two hours - you need a break, come on.”

“I can move?”

“Christ, yes, I’m not trying to kill you.” I slowly push myself upright and try not to groan as I let my sore muscles stretch. Baz watches me for a moment, then seems to remember I’m naked and looks away, blushing to the tips of his ears.

He’d been like this earlier, telling me to strip down but staring at his phone until I was seated. He told me to sit leaning over my legs with my elbows resting on my knees, looking down, and it basically concealed everything. We both stopped blushing after the first half hour, at least. I’d thought it would be more embarrassing, but I remembered the live models I’d drawn in my drawing classes - it had just been tiring, not even remotely sexual, and this was much of the same.

“Can I see it so far?” I ask after I put my pants back on, as well as a dressing gown of his, because his apartment is frigid.

“Absolutely not,” he replies, but I walk over anyways, sliding around behind him before he can stop me. I don’t know a lot about oil paints, I only had to take Painting I, but I’ve been slowly relearning everything while I’ve been around Baz more. He hasn’t done much so far, only blocked in a lot of the colors for the backdrop and the base for me, but it still looks amazing. His blending is so smooth, so precise, while still retaining that touch of a deeper feeling. He blows me away.

I loop my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his cheek and grinning. Baz is grumpy I’m looking at the unfinished painting, but his hands come up and hold my wrists, his thumb passing across the surface of my skin. “It looks amazing so far.”

“You’re supposed to say that,” he grumbles, but I can tell he’s pleased.

“Yes, I am, but it’s also very true,” I say, straightening and stretching again.

He swivels to look at me, tilting his head. “You’re not too sore, are you? We could always stop for the day. It takes so long to dry, we can do more tomorrow.”

I shake my head, dropping my hands to his lap and leaning over him. “I just need a few minutes. I don’t know if I can do a whole lot more, but another hour or two shouldn’t be bad. Maybe another break somewhere in between.”

Baz nods solemnly, and I capture his lips for a quick kiss. I’m getting to know him more and more, and I know that while he likes the kissing, a lot of the time he’s too anxious to in go for one himself. We’re working on that.

“How about some tea?” I ask as I step into his kitchen, fiddling with the kettle without waiting for a response, which is just a soft grunt of approval from the next room. While the water heats, I go back to Baz and crouch in front of him, where he’s still staring at his canvas, a little lost. He usually looks like this when he paints, but it makes him so soft, and I love it.

I gently take his right hand in both of mine and he looks down at me with that little head tilt I associate with him. “Is your hand hurting?” He cramps up a lot, and usually works through it, but I like to help when I can. I press my fingers into his hand, starting at his wrist and working out toward his palm with my thumbs, then slowly up his forearm. His eyes close, a wince now and then, but I know it helps.

“Thank you,” he whispers when we hear the kettle whistling, and I stoop to give him another kiss before hurrying back to the kitchen.

We drink our tea quietly at the table, after I drag him off that damn stool, and I still get a thrill just looking at him. As far as first boyfriends go, I think I sort of hit the jackpot, even if he is a bit of a bristly neurotic a lot of the time.

A few more minutes, and we return to our places. I strip in the most dramatic way possible, basically a strip-tease, and I can see him snickering, even though he’s trying to hide behind his canvas. We settle back into an easier silence, his music filling the space between us.

[softboywriting]

Snow Stuck | Scrapped Work | Shawn Mendes AU

A/N: This is scrapped so I won’t be continuing it.

Snow falls heavy outside. Blanketing the world in pure white. Renewing it in a way only winter could. It builds up, inch by inch, burying the ground beneath and halting human life within it. It was freezing, wind blowing your scarf around your face as you step into the quiet library. Today was your first tutor session with a friend of a friend. Well, more of homework help. You had an essay due in a day and nothing written on it. You always had a hell of a time setting up the writing so it made sense and wasn’t just a bunch of ideas thrown on the page. It wasn’t art and the words were not paint to be dropped haphazardly on a canvas. They had to be artfully placed and carefully set up, something you just weren’t that good at.

The doors fall closed behind you, the heavy thud too loud in the silent building. You pull out your phone and place one gloved finger between your teeth, tugging off the glove in one go. There’s a message from Shawn, your tutor for the day. It says to meet him in the back of the library by the political history section. You turn to the librarian who’s sitting on a high chair behind the counter and ask her where that section might be. She gives you pretty vague direction but you have no choice but to follow it.

Three rows in and to the left. Down two more rows and to the right. You repeat it to yourself over and over until you walk into an alcove and find Shawn sitting there. He looks amazing in the bright light pouring in the frosted window to the right of the table. His charcoal gray sweater looks so soft you can’t help the way your fingers twitch at your side, aching to touch the softness.

“Hey, you made it,” Shawn says quietly as he looks up from the book he was reading. He pushes his glasses up, those goddamn wire frame glasses. He looked like such a nerd but in all the right ways. Like one of those really hot guys trying to play a nerd in a movie, how you can tell they are far too attractive to be a bookworm. Shawn wasn’t just a nerd though, and actually you wouldn’t call him a nerd at all. No. Shawn was....just Shawn. He played hockey for four years in high school and then two while in college. He was whip smart, excelling in english and writing as well as science and biology. Shawn was something else sometimes.

“Yeah, yeah it’s snowing like crazy out there,” you laugh airly. You stuff your gloves into your pocket and pull your hat off, feeling your hair start to frizz out and stand up with the dry static air of the library.

Shawn stands, his height nearly dwarfing your small frame. “Let me help,” he says and grabs the edges of your jacket from behind when you unzip it. He slides the coat down your shoulders and sets it over the chair at the end of the small table he was sitting at. “I like you sweater. It’s a nice color on you.”

You turn, a slight blush on your cheeks. “Thanks, yours looks nice on you too.”

Shawn hums with a smile and takes his seat again. He quietly readies his notes for you and smiles at you when you take a seat opposite him.

You pull out your notes and your books along with your laptop. The sticker on your laptop makes you wanna put it back in the bag. Shawn was going to think your were a nerd or something if he saw that big Ravenclaw house sticker across the logo on the back of the screen. Ugh but you have to use the laptop. You weren’t going to sit there and hand write the paper only to type it up later. That would be a waste of time. You set the computer on the table and open it, swallowing hard and keeps your eyes trained on the black screens as it boots up.

“Ravenclaw huh?” Shawn asks with a smirk and you close your eyes, praying this moment wasn’t happening. “I’d have thought you’d be a Hufflepuff.”

“What? Wait you think I’d be a Hufflepuff? Why?”

Shawn laughs and props his head up on his chin. “Well, you’re always so shy and calm whenever I’ve seen you with Ashley. I know you’re smart and all but I dunno, you just seem like a Hufflepuff.”

“So you’ve thought about it before then.” You laugh and he pushes his glasses up, a blush rising on his cheeks. “I mean I think about my friends and their houses sometimes, yeah?”

A grin spreads across your face and you can’t help but just stare at him for a moment. The fact he wasn’t making fun of you for liking the harry potter series and he was actually quite interested himself made you so happy. In fact he seemed pretty damn invested in the magical world if he was thinking about his friends houses. What a dork. “So you’re a pretty big fan then?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

Shawn pulls his sweater up to reveal a gray tee beneath with the deathly hallows sigil on it. “I mean I guess?” he smirks and you laugh, covering your mouth and he just beams at you. “C’mon smarty pants, let’s get to writing yeah?”

“Only if you tell me your house first.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “How ‘bout you guess? What house do you think fits me?”

To look at Shawn, you would think Ravenclaw. What with those glasses, that mussed up sleep hair, slightly tired eyes, cozy sweater and books laid out in front of him. But knowing Shawn was big on hockey, and big on soccer in the summertime, you would guess maybe he was a Gryffindor. But those things didn’t mean he was one. “I’m stumped,” you chuckle and Shawn leans forward.

Shawn smirks and it sends quite a rush through you. “So was the sorting hat on pottermore. They put me in Hufflepuff though. Who would have thought?”

“I can see it.” You really could. Hufflepuffs were known for loyalty, dedication and hard work. All things Shawn seemed to live by. He would do anything for his friends, or so you’d been told. He was dedicated to his school work, his sports, his family and friends. He worked hard and strived for good grades and he always went the extra mile in classes. Shawn was a Hufflepuff through and through and you couldn’t believe it took him telling you to realize it.

“I wish I was a Gryffindor though. They’re much cooler.”

“Hey, Hufflepuffs are cool too, hell, you have the emblem of a badger. Badgers aren’t to be fucked with. Don’t you know? Honey badger don’t give a fuck?” you say and Shawn bursts out laughing, leaning on the table as his face turned red. His laughter was amazing, little outbursts of chuckles and breathy wheezes. “Well, maybe you aren’t a honey badger but the honey part is correct.”

The laughter stops and Shawn raises his eyebrows at you. “I’m a honey huh?”

“A big one,” you smirk and he just shakes his head.

“Let’s get to work now yeah? This paper isn’t going to write itself.”

________________________

Three hours later and you’ve got most of your paper written. Shawn had been a huge help and also a huge distraction. He would take off his glasses to read what you had written and every time he did your brain just shut off. The guy looked stunning with the damn things on but without them, he was something else. Like those movies where the nerdy girl gets a makeover and they give her contacts and suddenly she’s super bangin’ hot. But shawn wasn't a nerdy girl. He was already hot and you couldn’t decide if you liked him better with or without the glasses.

“Hey, earth to space cadet,” Shawn says, snapping his fingers at you to get your attention.

“Huh? What?” you ask, snapping out of your train of thought. “Is it good?”

Shawn laughs, eyes crinkling and mouth turning up at the corners. If he didn’t stop being so cute you were going to end up in la la land again. “It’s great, I think you’re good to go. But I gotta ask, what’s going on with you hmm? Why are you so distracted?” he chuckles.

“You’re sort of distracting. I mean, do you know how hot you are just sitting there in that cozy sweater and those glasses with that messy curly hair? Do you know?”

Shawn raises his eyebrows and smirks. “Well do you know how distracting /you/ are with that cute sweater and your hair down and loose? And when you bite the end of your pen or when you bit your lip when you’re thinking, I think I might die. It’s a two way street here.”

You blink a few times at his unexpected confession. So the feeling was mutual. Well there was only one thing to do now. Ask him out. “So do you want to do this again?” you ask with a smile and Shawn nods.

“I’d love to. Maybe next time we could do it with coffee at the cafe?”

“I’d like that.”

“Saturday?”

“Noon?”

Shawn puts his glasses back on and nods. “Noon on Saturday. I’ll see you there.” Shawn puts his stuff in his bag and bids you goodbye as he leaves you to get your stuff cleaned up.

You head to the front, butterflies in your stomach from making plans with Shawn. You couldn’t believe you somehow talked your way into a coffee date with him. The butterflies dissipate quickly as you find the librarian and Shawn standing at the doors just staring. Ms. Hodges, the librarian, says that the doors are blocked with snow and she can’t get them open. Shawn pushes and pushes but the doors don’t budge.

“I think they might be frozen as well,” Shawn says, looking at the seam where the doors latch. “When was the last time anyone came or went?”

“Um, I think you two were the last ones in here and I didn’t find anyone else in here. I can call for help I think my phone has signal,” Ms. Hodges says as she pulls out her cellphone.

A strong gust of wind rattles the high windows of the library and you look up, seeing the snow whiting out what little could be seen of the world through the windows. The lights flicker and you look at Shawn who steps away from the doors and toward you. “Do you think anyone will be able to get to us in this storm?” you ask and Shawn shrugs.

“Honestly I don’t know. That wind sounds pretty bad,” Shawn says and crosses his arms, looking up at the windows. There was no way any of you would be able to get high enough to get out through one to go get help. The fall on the other side would probably break something even if it were possible. “Isn’t there a backdoor Ms. Hodges?”

Ms. Hodges lowers her cellphone and looks at it. “There is but it’s locked and I don’t have the padlock keys. Mr. Jacobs does. He closed last night and he must have taken them with him. I also don’t have any reception.” She hold her phone up and waves it a bit. “Absolutely no reception.”

Shawn pulls his phone out and checks, he has none either. You pull yours out and it’s dead. Of course. “Don’t you have a landline here for the library?” you ask and walk around the check out desk to see for yourself. There is no phone on the desk and you look at the computer. The power was still on. You could send an email to someone and they could call for help.

Taking a seat, you open up a new web page and start typing in yahoo.com only to pause, the wind shaking the windows violently once more and causing you to jump. You get about as far as opening your inbox when the computer shuts down, the lights in the library flickering and then going out completely.

“So much for that idea,” Shawn mumbles and leans against the counter. “Maybe we can get out the bathroom windows. They’re not too far off the ground.”

“Oh! Yes!” Ms. Hodges says and heads for the bathrooms.

You and Shawn follow close behind and enter the ladies bathroom behind her. With much effort, Shawn manages to get one of the windows open but it’s not wide enough for you or him to fit through. Ms. Hodges however was a petite lady and could easily squeeze through.

“Well...” Shawn trails off, looking at the small opening that was blowing snow into the small bathroom. “I’m not sure we can all fit.”

“Oh yeah that’s a pretty small gap. There’s no way you’ll fit,” Ms. Hodges says and looks Shawn over. She turns to you and shakes her head. “Alright, I’ll go. I’ll find help. In the meantime, don’t  wreck up the place.”

“We would never,” you assure her. The last thing you wanted to do while being trapped in a library would be to ‘wreck it up’. “We will wait here for you.”

“Alright, lift me up,” Ms. Hodges says to Shawn as she stands by the window opening, coat buttoned up and her gloves on. “Send me out!” She laughs and Shawn helps her up onto the ledge and she slides out the window and onto the snow a few feet below. She sends back a thumbs up and you toss her your scarf to keep her face from getting wind burnt. With that she starts fumbling her way through the snow and you and Shawn are left alone in the darkening library.

__

[stellalights]

Miraculous Ladybug: Trip to Disney World AU

i’ve seen this AU a ton but I wanna put my own Disney World experiences into this AU. Also I know it’s more logical for this to take place in Disneyland Paris but i don’t know anything about it so they’re going to Disney World let’s do this

*disclaimer: this is extremely long

So Marinette is a total Disney fanatic.

She has all the movies from Snow White all the way to the end of the Disney renaissance period on VHS and the rest on DVD.

Her family goes to Disney World every three years and they go all out.

I’m talking Disney bounding. i’m talking enormous collections of hats, Mickey ears, and pins. 5 filled autograph books. scrapbooks of pictures of Marinette meeting the characters. they are experts when it comes to planning a trip to Disney World.

So one year her parents suggest that she invites her whole class to go with them.

Marinette’s like “hell yeah” and the class is like “hell yeah” which means Marinette gets to be in her favorite place in the world with her friends and ADRIEN. so now Marinette is panicking because this trip needs to be absolutely perfect.

Marinette plans the entire trip from the resort to the dining reservations to the fast passes. She is completely on top of everything, making a schedule around the dining, fast passes, and park events. It all must be perfect.

Trip day arrives, and after they’ve landed and settled in the hotel (the Contemporary), the class takes a bus to Disney Springs to do a little shopping before they go to the parks in the upcoming days.

Everyone goes off to find some sweet apparel and other merch.

Adrien is like a kid in a candy shop since he’s never been to Disney World, but he adores all the merchandise, and Marinette is just so happy because he’s so happy??

Marinette helps everyone pick out their headgear. 

Juleka gets Maleficent ears, Rose gets Sleeping Beauty ones #girlfriends

Max, Kim, and Nino get Star Wars ones.

Ivan and Mylene get matching Minnie and Mickey ears

Chloe refuses to listen to Marinette’s suggestions and instead buys Rapunzel’s tiara

Alya gets the rose gold Minnie Mouse ears cause they are fabulous

Alix buys the Pluto cap

Adrien gets a simple Mickey hat with his name embroidered on it. Alya “Wingman” Cesaire tries to convince Marinette to get a Minnie hat with her name embroidered on it

Marinette freaks out and says no

Alya buys it for her (for the sake of love)

Marinette gives Alya the death stare as Alya places the hat on her head

Adrien is so happy to match Marinette

Next, they visit the art gallery which Marinette loves

Nathaniel admires every painting and even thinks of spending $600 on one of The Little Mermaid

Yes, it is that beautiful

They grab some dinner at The Boathouse which is amazing

Max suggests they all go to Disney Quest. 

Marinette reluctantly tells him that it just closed down. They share a moment of silence

Next day is the first park day: Animal Kingdom.

Marinette does not fuck around. 

She wakes everyone up at 6 am sharp because they need to get to Animal Kingdom before the park opens at 8 am so they can get to Pandora.

Marinette physically breaking into everyone’s room and ripping off their blankets

Even Chloe isn’t willing to test Marinette right now that’s how serious she is.

They take the bus to the park and head over to Flight of Passage (Best. Ride. Ever.).

Tom and Sabine go off and do their own thing (and do so the rest of the park days)

They hang around Pandora for a while, trying the food and watching the drum ceremony until their fast pass for the Na'vi River Journey is ready. 

Alya strategically sits Adrien next to Marinette. 

Adrien is in awe because he loves Avatar and he remembers every detail

Marinette continues to be so happy for him.

They ride the other rides

Adrien crying a little on Dinosaur as he flashes back to when Ladybug was almost eaten by Animan

Nino: “Adrien, dude, you know that ride was all animatronics, right?”

Adrien, traumatized: “Y-yeah I know.”

Rose holding onto Juleka during Expedition Everest

Kim holding onto Max during Expedition Everest

They do a little shopping, Marinette buying an Animal Kingdom pin just like every trip

Alix insisting they ride Flight of Passage one more time

Checking the wait time for it

It’s 225 minutes

Cue disappointed classmates

They watch the Rivers of Light show together, and head back to the resort

Next day: Epcot

Because the fast pass system sucks for Epcot, the class SPRINTS to Test Track before it gets crowded (or breaks down) because they had to choose between getting a fast pass for that, Soarin, or Frozen Ever After (and Marinette did NOT wanna wait on line for that so thus chooses Frozen Ever After for the fast pass slot)

Alya and Marinette bet Nino and Adrien that their car design will beat theirs and Nino and Adrien are all about it. 

Alya and Marinette's car exceeds in all the tests and they brag about it for the rest of the day cause power girlfriends™

Next is Soarin which is Marinette's favorite ride in the park. 

She literally cries from how beautiful it is

Adrien is kind of taken by how much she loves the ride and Disney World in general

He finds her passion inspiring

Time for world showcase! 

Marinette's favorite pavilion is Italy because the food is delicious and the Venetian Carnival Masks in the store are her favorite

She traditionally buys a new one every trip

When Adrien visits the store in Japan, he is in literal tears

Anime products everywhere. 

He spends $200 there on merch include a Sailor Moon keychain, a giant Pikachu plushie, and a Goku onesie

He also gets 6 different flavors of Pocky

Nino loves the Morocco pavilion (for obvious reasons) and he insists on snacking on the Moroccan food which turns out to be soo good. 

Frozen Ever After time!

Adrien sings “Let It Go” with Elsa and everyone giggles but it's honestly adorable and he's pretty good at singing too??

They visit the other pavilions, including France where they all have a mini photo shoot together

Cue the class posing like Ladybug and Chat Noir in front of a fountain

Marinette and Alya posing as Ladybug and Chat Noir respectively

Adrien, seeing them pose, and asking Marinette to take pics with him in LB and CN poses

Why are these kids so clueless: a novel by me

They also meet Belle and Adrien cries a little because she’s such a believable Belle and he feels unworthy to be in the presence of a real Disney Princess

Marinette buys her Epcot pin, following tradition

They finish the night watching Illuminations in the Canada pavilion

Adrien lowkey watching Marinette watch the show because wow she loves it so much?

Marinette glancing at Adrien

Adrien quickly looking away and blushing (these kids I can’t with them)

NEXT: Hollywood Studios 

Nino is SO HYPE. A park about film. It's everything he could want

Chloe insists on taking solo pics in front of Hollywood Boulevard

Everyone actually agrees

Adrien being the diva he is and Marinette close to fainting

First stop: Rock ‘n’ Rollercoaster

Quick photoshoot in front of the guitar, posing like Jagged Stone

Second stop: Toy Story Mania

Marinette and Max going all out

Max surprisingly winning the game

Marinette claims her cannon was broken and therefore was the leading cause of her loss

Third stop: Tower of Terror

Everyone is lowkey scared to ride, even Marinette who has ridden it hundreds of times

Alix suggests that they all dab when the photo is taken

No one knows when the photo is taken on the ride, so they all dab like 5 times

The picture actually turns out super funny, and they buy it

Fourth stop: Star Tours

Nino, Max, and Kim fangirl so hard

Kim tries to join the Jedi Training show, but is #rejected for being too old

Alix steals a pair of 3D glasses from the ride

Fifth stop: The Great Movie Ride

Marinette ADORES this ride because it’s a tribute to classic movies

She loves everything about it from the cheesy tour guide to the montage of movies at the end

She ends up crying after the ride is over because she remembers that it’s closing in the upcoming weeks

Classmates comfort Marinette

Marinette buys a Hollywood Studios pin

They watch the Star Wars firework show and head home

Time for the most important park day of all: Magic Kingdom

Marinette does not hesitate, bitch

She needs this day to be the best of the best

Marinette wears her Minnie Mouse Disney bound which makes all the classmates’ hearts skip a beat

like she is so pretty in her red dress with white polka dots, yellow converse, block stockings, space buns, and bow in her hair

They get to the park and Alya insists on taking pics of Marinette in front of the castle

Marinette is a little embarrassed but she does it anyway

Adrien can not get over how cute she is like wow???

Alya catches Adrien staring at Marinette

Alya: “hey Mickey Mouse, why don’t you take a few pictures with Minnie?”

Adrien, caught off guard: “Wh-huh yeah sure!”

Marinette, using telepathy: “Alya, I will get you back for this.”

The pictures actually turning out amazing and Adrien makes one his phone wallpaper

Marinette once again almost passing out

They head to Space Mountain aka the best ride (before Flight of Passage was built that is)

Adrien loves it sooooo much he wants to ride it all day

but alas, the line is 110 minutes long after they exit the ride

They spend about an hour and a half in Tomorrowland

Next stop: Fantasyland, Marinette’s favorite area

Adrien finds the Princess Fairytale Hall and demands they get on line to meet Rapunzel, his favorite princess.

the line is 45 minutes, a bit much, but they let him

Adrien running up to Rapunzel and hugging her like a 5 year old child

He tells her how much he loved Tangled and that she is his idol

Rapunzel kisses his cheek and Adrien almost dies right there

Marinette gets a little jealous

Because it’s Florida, there’s a thunderstorm

The class quickly finding a place to take cover

Adrien trying to block the rain from Marinette so her outfit doesn’t get ruined

Marinette slipping on the wet ground and Adrien catching her

Cue insane blushing

They take this opportunity to see Philharmagic

Alix steals 3 pairs of the 3D glasses

Rose tells her to return them

Alix gives her a pair to keep her quiet

The storm clears out

3:00 pm: time for the Festival of Fantasy Parade!

Marinette singing the parade music because she knows it by heart

Flynn Rider winks at Sabrina

Sabrina actually fainting due to a mixture of heat, dehydration, and Eugene Fitzherbert

The paramedics come to take Sabrina to the infirmary

Sabine offers to stay with her 

The whole class in awe when Dragon!Maleficent breathes fire

After the parade, the class proceeds to go on the rest of the rides

They dab during the Splash Mountain photo

Ivan comforts Mylene during the Haunted Mansion

Everyone sings “Heigh-Ho” on the Dwarf Mine Coaster

Also singing during Pirates of the Caribbean

Snack Break!

Marinette buys everyone Dole Whips because they are amazing

More rides, more photos, more fun

8:00 pm: 1 hour until the fireworks

Marinette insists that they must get their spot now

They play Heads-Up on Alya’s phone to help pass the time

Sabrina and Sabine rejoin the group

9:00 pm: time for Happily Ever After

Marinette has never actually seen this show because it’s fairly new

The whole class is in awe

Halfway through the show, Marinette bursts out into tears because the show is just so well done

The music, the fireworks, the projections on the castle, it just brings back all her memories watching Disney movies

Adrien sees this and puts his hand on her shoulder

Marinette panics, but Adrien gives her a soft smile and she’s smiles back

The show ends, being the perfect finale to a perfect trip

On their way out of the park, Adrien realizes that Marinette never bought her pin from Magic Kingdom yet and decides to buy one for her on Main Street

They head back to their hotel and begin packing for their departure in the morning

Adrien knocks on the door to Marinette and Alya’s room

He thanks her for making the trip so amazing and magical

He then pulls out the Magic Kingdom pin from his pocket and gives it to her as a thank you

Marinette, face as red as a tomato, freezes for a moment

Alya is eating this up

Marinette takes a breath and hugs Adrien, thanking him for also making this trip amazing for her

I definitely would like to go into more detail about each individual day, but here’s a summary of basically all the points I wanted to hit! If you have any ideas/headcanons please send them my way I’d love to hear them :D

[thegreatmercutio]

“The Overlook Hotel” A Malec AU Fanfiction. Summary: It’s Winter 1977. Bestseller suspense and horror writer Alec Lightwood is having the worst case of writer’s block and his publisher is on his ass with the deadline for a new horror novel. When the Overlook Hotel owner posted a help wanted aid for a winter caretaker during the hotel closing season. Alec applied, even against his editor’s advise. Alec hopes that hotel’s seclusion will help him finish his overdue novel. Bring his boyfriend, Magnus Bane, the world-renowned dancer and choreographer, who also in need for some isolation from the world after a highly publicized scandal. Thinking an entire hotel to themselves will inspire creativity and healing…And some alone time is always a plus…but unfortunately, they’re not alone. Rating: Mature. It’s a horror flick, 80’s rules applied. Genre: Horror, romance, supernatural, psychological thriller, suspense…channeling my inner Stephen King…but I am no Stephen King. Hahaha. Just someone who loves Halloween, horror movies, and Malec. Inspired by the spirit of Halloween, “The Shining”,…both versions Stephen King’s novel and the Stanley Cooper’s interpretation…and of course Malec.  Chapter 1: The Grand Gesture “Are you sure you want to do this?” Alec reached for Magnus’ hand. He gave it a squeeze. His eyes still on the road. Magnus held Alec’s hand to his lips, kissed it. He smiled, pushing long strains of Alec brown curls back. It was the 100 time, Alec has asked Magnus. Now only 40 minutes away from their final destination. Magnus found it sweet that he still worried, but the truth is it’s too late to turn back. “Alexander, yes…I want this. You and me…alone.” The sound of metal clicking in the backseat and a soft meow. “…And Chairman.” Magnus smiled, looking back at their grey tabby cat in his carrier. He turned back on the road ahead, completely in awe of the beauty. Miles of land, untouched and untamed. Blue skies and sunshine. Oceans of trees and snow. Alec placed a kiss on Magnus’ palm. After three days on the road. The Overlook Hotel was finally in view. Standing alone and grand on high hills, surrounded by mountains and deep endless forest. Magnus took a deep breath while biting his lower lip. Two months away from civilization and drama. Alone with only Alec and Chairman for company. He held Alec’s hand tighter and closer. He needs this. They need this.  Writer’s block. Consuming and numbing writer’s block. After the success of Alec’s first book, The No Man’s Game and his critical acclaimed follow up, The Photographer—Alec Lightwood became an instant household name. He was in high demand by his fans and his publisher, both have been on his ass for a year for a third book, demanding a possible sequel to The Photographer. He wants to be Stephen King. He was no Stephen King. The third book has been beyond complicated and difficult. A messy office in Brooklyn filled with manuscripts since the days he began to write, but none ever worthy for Alec Lightwood’s third book pedestal. Truth is he’s in turmoil and the pressure is hitting him hard. Endless nights of wasted papers and cold coffee was getting him nowhere. He wasn’t sure where to go? The inspiration has been dry. He needs to write but getting pass one sentence has been a battle. The public’s high anticipation added with his own self-expectation was overwhelming him. Alec was desperate. When a random word of mouth about a hotel in the mountains in Colorado was looking for a winter caretaker during their closing season. The idea of an enclosed hotel enthralled Alec. An isolated hotel away from the public and the world. To Alec, it was a writer’s dream. Alec made the call. His editor, Ragnor was against it. He recommended Paris, London, coffee shops, or a train ride through Europe. Anything but cabin fever. Alec passed on all the suggestions. His family thinks he’s crazy too. However, his choice was not only for him but for Magnus too. He needs to take him away. He wants to hurt them. Kill them. Eliminate all those who dare to hurt his Magnus. Thoughts of vengeance and pure rages filled his mind. Yet he had to follow a moral code, he resisted and decided that the best thing he can do is to take Magnus away from the drama. Magnus needs time to heal. Alec needs to learn to tame the monster inside.  Magnus Bane. His one and only. Magnus was a world-renowned dancer and a choreographer. Traveled world since he was an infant. A prodigy and the only son of the infamous music legend and composer Asmodeus. Since the age of 5, Magnus spoke 7 different languages, composed his own music, and directed his own dance ensemble. He was accepted in Juilliard at 14. He was the youngest ever accepted. Extraordinary was not enough to describe Magnus.  Alec met Magnus during Alec’s sophomore year at NYU. Late at night, on his walk back to his tiny studio apartment in the Bronx. From the library, he would make a shortcut through the Performance Art building. He heard music—sad but perfectly synced music echoing in the halls. Following the song’s trance, he found Magnus. He was alone on an empty stage under spotlights. There were no audiences. Just a dancer and a recorder player. He was beautiful, magical, and magnetic. Completely in his own world dancing like moving art, unknown that at that very moment by the doorway—Alec was falling in love. When their eyes locked. Magnus‘ soft brown eyes on Alec’s hazels, that hid behind a messy shag of dark brown hair. Magnus was covered in sweat, yet he smelled so sweet. The kind of sweet that made Alec thirsty and determined. Magnus was trying to catch his breath, bare-chested with a pair of very tight black dancer tights. He gave him a shy smile and “hello.” Alec knew then, Magnus Bane was his one. His only.  Magnus was younger. He was only 18. Alec was 23. He called him…Alec, like everyone else. They were friends at first. Best friends with inside jokes and movie marathons. Inseparable and unbreakable. Then one day, Magnus looked at him and called him, “Alexander” for the first time. He told him that he thinks he like girls…and boys too. He admitted he was interested in a particular tall, dark, and handsome man. He had hazel eyes and had a smile that melts Magnus’ insides. Who laughs at his jokes, buy him ice creams when he’s sad, tells him he’s beautiful and inspires him to greatness. Magnus admitted he has been flirting with this man, but he’s little clueless in the message. Alec was jealous at first thinking some stranger has won Magnus’ heart, then he connected the dots and blushed. Sometimes he’s an idiot. Alec confessed then too.  Alec was gay. He knows he is. He has always known since he understood the difference between girls and boys. But the world is cruel. He understood that fairness and equality is a long battle. Through his younger days, It was harder. He hated himself. He believed everything they said about his feelings, that it was a mental illness and a sin. He was already damned for loving a man. Magnus would tell him, at least they will be together. Even in hell. Alec is contented, if his afterlife is predetermined to the eternal fiery furnace, as long as he had Magnus. He’ll take it. Only a few knew. His siblings, his agent, editor, and Magnus. It took years for him to make a compromise with himself. He knew how he felt. He knew who he loved. He just had to make a compromise. It wasn’t justice and peace, but at least he can wake in the morning. Well, most mornings. Alec chose to keep his sexuality away from the public. It was the 70s. Being an openly gay man was a risk. He has always been a private person. He preferred it, despite his newly found fame as the “It” horror-suspense author. His agent also advised that it would be wise to keep his bedroom affairs from his profession. Though Alec’s life and honesty are limited to the public world, his writing is his truth. Even when he’s writing about monsters and demons. The truth is there.  Within a year of their confession, Alec and Magnus moved in together. Behind closed doors, in their own world. They were more than friends, beyond lovers. However, the outside world didn’t know that. On the lease, they were known as “friends” or just “roommates” sharing rent. At the present time, Alec was fine with it. As long as Magnus was near him. With him. He didn’t need the world’s approval. He has no plan to share Magnus anymore than he already has to.  The scandal. Post-Vietnam war, being Asian in America was more troublesome and melancholy than before. People looked at Magnus on the streets as the enemy. That every Asian living in America was the reason for the war. A war that left thousands of people…bitter, angry, and confused. Magnus spent his entire life, breaking thick walls to be accepted in a White man’s world. The first struggle was to overcome the shadow that was his overbearing and tiger father. Magnus worked hard. He left home. Earned an education and status as The Magnus Bane. When he earned the title of the ballerino, the lead male dancer for the New York City Dance Company. It was big news, but before it hit the hot press. He lost it. Unfortunately, in a world of art where beauty and difference should be celebrated become a world of narrowed politic. Having an Asian lead dancer was a bad idea for the company. Investors and benefactors threatened to leave the company’s financial bank if they promoted Magnus. He cannot be their face. Instead, Jean Peters became the lead. Magnus was pushed further back. Strangely, he called his father that night to tell him the news. He rather hears the words of the devil than the defeated words storming inside of him. Asmodeus, as always was truthful. His honesty was hurtful but comforting because it was true. Magnus knew he was different. He stood out in the crowd of privileged children, he was a tan Indonesian while most of his peer last named ended in names like Adams and Milton. But Magnus grew up with a silver spoon too. He was Asmodeus’ son. Asmodeus taught him to be proud of his heritage and his race. But when he was told, that all his hard work meant nothing. That’s his “face” was no longer welcomed. He never felt so ashamed for being different. He came to realize that years of work only concluded that the world only saw him as an object. A worldly and exotic Eastern import. A thing, that people indulged in so they can pretend that they were cultured and respectful. However pushing Magnus Bane “back” created a stir of gossip. There’s were already been speculations about Magnus relationship and living arrangements with Alec. Words came out soon that Magnus was gay. That his ex-girlfriend Camille blamed their break up because Magnus was cheating on her with a man. Magnus as furious. One, he wasn’t gay. He was attracted to both men and women. Two, he never cheated on her. He loved her. The betrayal was heartbreaking. However, he kept his mouth shut, afraid that any encouragement will lead to Alec. Soon, the rumors were getting out of control. Magnus couldn’t step into a club or even a room without people looking at him with their current assumptions and speculations of his life. In one week, he became the whore. Rumors of him sleeping with both men and women for advancement in his career. That he had an STD and AIDS. That he was doing cocaine at studio 54 while in a threesome in the VIP room. That he was a member of the communist party. That he was a Russian spy. That he’s nothing without his father’s name and fortune. Magnus quitted the company. Unemployed, depressed, and he locked himself in the loft. Yet, the rumors continued. Alec was angry. He stood by Magnus and told his agent, he planned to “coming out” to the public. He will tell them in the past 5 years, Magnus and him were in a serious relationship. He would clear all the rumors about Magnus. His agent advised him not to and Magnus stopped him, saying that this was not the way to come out. He didn’t want Alec to be near this. Alec was not pleased. He was angry. Yet another compromise had to be made.  When they arrived. They greeted by a man named William. He was older, most likely in his late 40s. He directed them to where to park their car. “I’ll get some help to get your bags to your rooms.” He looked at Magnus with an intensive stare. Magnus took Chairman’s carrier. Magnus is not sure he liked him. There was a bad feeling Magnus was getting from him. Alec led the way to the front. They passed a few staff members walking out. Clearly, leaving for the winter. When they entered the hotel. The air smelled of evergreen and mint. The hotel was beautiful and massive. The hotel was a Victorian styled surrounded by oak woods, red bricks, and white paints. The interior designs were grand, with strong uses of warm tones, patterns, and velvet. They greeted by a bellboy, a young man named Tim. Who smiled at them and lead them to Mr. Connor.  “There are 220 rooms here.” Mr. Connor said. His narrowed intensive blue eyes on Magnus and Alec. Alec wondered if Mr. Connor was curious about the relationship between Magnus and Alec. Why a White man was showing up at their hotel with an Asian man and a tabby cat? Alec informed Mr. Connor about the surface information. That was enough. Mr. Connor was the hotel manager. A short-stacked man with blonde hair and a thick tamed mustache. “The room keys are locked in the cabinet at the front desk. We want all the rooms to remain locked.” He said with a strong stern in his tone. He stared at them for a long second, to make it clear that rooms need to be locked and undisturbed. “I was told this was built in 1903?” Alec looked away. He did some research on the hotel. He loved history. “Yes, the hotel was built by Lord Stanley and his brothers. He was very ill with tuberculosis and built this place to heal. He recovered and was impressed by the area healing elements…especially the fresh dry air in the summer. He then decided to transform it into a hotel. Of course, more rooms were added…including a ballroom and a greenhouse in the back.” Mr. Connor answered. He then led them to the grand ballroom. Magnus was in love. It was big and spacious. He is definitely going to claim this room. Crystal chandeliers on the ceilings and large open windows letting the sun in. Alec smiled, catching the glee in Magnus’ eyes. This would be a perfect place for Magnus to practice. Mr. Connor led them to a long hallway that led to the kitchen and food supplies. “There should enough food to last you two for longer than your stay. The walk-in freezer is over there, there is a fully-stocked pantry, and we did stock some fresh vegetables in the fridge. The greenhouse also has vegetables there too…we do want you to manage the greenhouse as well.” Alec nodded. Magnus handed Chairman to Alec as he explored the kitchen. He saw some frozen streaks in the freezer and red potatoes and green beans. Now, where’s the vodka? He wondered “Thank you.” Alec was pleased. “This way…will lead to the staff living quarters.” Magnus and Alec followed. “Here, is your room Mr. Lightwood and down the hall is yours, Mr. Bane.” Magnus grinned at Alec, taking Chairman’s carrier from him. The rooms were basic. A queen size bed, a desk, a lamp, and a TV in the corner. Each room there was a connected bathroom with a standing shower. Magnus let Chairman out in Alec’s room. Their room. The room they appointed him was smaller. He smiled as Chairman made his way out of the carrier, stretching his body and legs. Magnus felt bad. The poor kitty, such a long drive.  Mr. Connor showed them the pool, the greenhouse, the cigar room, the lounge, the storage rooms, the basement, and the garage. He told them there snowmobiles in the garage and extra gasoline for emergence. After the tour, they returned back to the front desk. “This is the radio. Do check in every day and night. It is also connected to sheriff department in the nearest town. However, with the heavy storm that may take them some time to travel up here. We do have a landmine…William is our groundskeeper. He knows the area very well. I believed you met him outside. He has a cabin a few miles from here. He will check on you…time and time.” Magnus looked at Alec, he wasn’t sure about William. “Okay…” Alec checked out the radio. He turned it on and off. “Where are the backup generators?” “Yes, I’ll show you them…they are located in the back near the greenhouse….there is one in the manager office and one down by the staff living area for emergency only. Also beside the manager office is what called the nurse office, there are medical supplies there.” He replied. “Good to know.” Magnus replied, eyes at the hallway’s paintings. There were paintings of landscapes and a large dominating standing portrait of an older man with dark eyes and white hair that stood down the hall. He was wearing a black periodic Victorian suit. That must be Mr. Stanley. Magnus concluded. “Mr. Lightwood, it’s really simple, we expected you to do a walk through the hotel every day and ensure the doors are locked. Keep the heater on at a low 65 degrees so the piles won’t freeze…Of course, you can change the temperature in your rooms and use the fireplaces. It will be very cold here. Any mess or damages will be your responsibility.” Mr. Connor looked at Alec and followed his eyes to Magnus, who was wandering away. “Will do, Mr. Connor.” Alec nodded. He handled Alec a set of keys. “These are master keys to the manager office and main doors…I’ll show you the generators and the back shed…the tools are there for any needed maintenances.” Magnus have walked off. Alec followed Mr. Connor.  Alec found Magnus back in the ballroom. He was looking out towards the mountains. “Do you like it?” Alec asked. He stood next to him. “I love it. It’s quiet and peaceful. Definitely, a great place to work on your novel. And I can work on some projects here too.” Magnus smiled. Alec can feel it. A calmness and excitement in Magnus that he hasn’t felt in weeks. “I was thinking that when we get back, I am going to start my own dance company…my our productions, my own shows…what do you think?” Alec smiled, seeing Magnus hopeful made him happy. “You can do anything. I will be right here.” He wanted to kiss him. Magnus can tell, so he grinned and stood closer. “Alexander, this was a wonderful idea…I think this plan is going to work out.” He smirked. “Get this whole place to ourselves…no unwanted distractions and surrounded by nature…and I can dance naked.” Magnus purred, he bitted his lips. Looking directly at Alec’s eyes. “Naked, huh?” Alec faced him. They were close, dangerously close. “You love it when I dance naked.” He said softly. Alec smiled and nodded. Magnus, dancing and naked. Alec can’t help but think things. “I saw that large red velvet couch in the lobby when we got here…I am going to fuck you on that couch tonight.” He said firmly, staring at Magnus lustful and bold. Magnus took a deep breath. He was impressed. Alec is filled with surprises. “Yeah?” “Yeah…” Alec smiled and nodded.  Mr. Connor was the last to leave. He wrote down a list of phone numbers and told them he will call them every day to check in. He asked that they be careful and stayed warm. The upcoming storm was not be taken lightly. William and Tim left after helping Alec with carrying their luggage, bags, and a few boxes of personal supplies into their quarters. Willam did inform Alec that he will call in morning and at night every day to inform him about the current area status and the weather. He also advised Alec to do his walkthrough in the morning and never at night and like Mr. Connor but eerier and coldly told Alec to not unlock any of the rooms’ doors. He added one important note. That it was also very important to stay busy. As he said, “To keep the mind…sane”. Alec took it as, Don’t be lazy, do your job. While Alec prepared dinner. Magnus did the unpacking and fed Chairman. He found a nice corner in the lobby for chairman, setting out his cats toys, litter box, and bed. Chairman, the ever curious cat was loving the place. He roamed the rooms and halls. Finding warm places to nap and stare. Dinner was grilled steaks, baked potatoes, and streamed garlic green beans with white wine. Dinner was delicious. After dinner, Alec set his writing area in the main lobby by a large fireplace. He had his typewriter and boxes of fresh paper. He started a fire to keep the room warm. He sat at the desk for an hour, staring at his typewriter. It was just day one. He wasn’t going to pressure himself yet. He will get there. He feels more confident than yesterday. At least that’s a start. He did note down some ideas and then he played with Chairman. Magnus joined him later, he showered and was dressed in his silk purple pajamas. Face fresh and innocent looking. He greeted Alec with a kiss. “How is it going?” “It going somewhere.” Alec looked up and smiled. “You will get there, babe.” Magnus kissed his forehead. Alec nodded. He was determined to start and finish this book. He dragged Magnus and himself all the way to Colorado. He has to accomplished this. The goal is success. Magnus smelled lovely. He smelled of Chanel no. 5. Magnus doesn’t go anywhere without his Chanel. Alec pulled him closer to kiss him deeply. One sweet kiss led to heavy breathing, lips glued, and tongues tugging at each other. Alec carried Magnus to the red large velvet couch by the fireplace, that he has been eyeing since he arrived. He badly wants to see Magnus on it, naked and under him. He pulled at Magnus’ waistband. His lips never leaving Magnus’ soft and warm skin. He pushed Magnus’ legs apart and looked at him. His eyes hungry and desperate to be inside Magnus’ warmth. Magnus licked his lips as he unbuttoned his nightshirt, leaving him bare. Alec’s heart stopped. Magnus golden skin and warm brown eyes were lit from the fire’s glow. He’s gorgeous and lovely. Magnus kept his eyes on him as he reached for Alec’s belt. “Mr. Lightwood, you’re a man of your word. I was told that you’re going to fuck me on this particular couch?” “Yes, Mr. Bane. I am a man of my word.” He reached up to kiss him.  “I love you.” Magnus whispered softly as he tucked his head underneath Alec’s neck and rested his head on his chest. “I love you.” Alec kissed his head. He pulled their comforter over them. He wrapped his arms around Magnus. They decided to sleep on the couch for the night. The room was warm and comforting. They were exhausted from the long day. Chairman has settled on a nearby loveseat. They both closed their eyes. Listening to the sounds of fire woods cracking, synced heartbeats, and Chairman’s soft snores. They all fell asleep.  Outside the clouds were forming, thick and dark. The winds speed up and it created strong hallowing sounds around. The snow began to fall. On the second floor, in room 217. An echoing click of the door unlocking. The door opened with sounds of footsteps making it’s way downstairs. Lights dimmed and the rooms grew colder. Chairman was awake. He stood at the bottom of the stairway. His ears and yellow eyes locked on a figure standing on the steps with a large grin on its face.  So….it begins. Happy Halloween!!!! Thanks for reading, Chapter 2 will be posted and the monsters are coming. insert…*evil laugh* Hahahahaha. Fun Fact: Stephen King stayed in room 217 at the Stanley Hotel. He actually stayed there with his wife alone as the only guests of the entire hotel before they closed down for the season…It was this room that started the book, “The Shining.” Please…any feedbacks are welcomed. Special hello to: @viridian99 , @childoftheopenroad , @xainshadowslinger , @inapeculiarlife , @curlyandboobearziam , @lovelightwood008 , @kjulissa , @flibbertigibbetboogers, @flibbertigibbetboogers, @if-stars-were-to-die, @rhetoricianx, @jarrivepasatrouverunpseudo, @hannabellaisnotmyname, @countingstaarss

[artificialqueens]

My loneliness is killing you (Vatya) /Part 7/ - Polly

Authors note: This is actually 2k but it feels short not gonna lie. this was meant to be a lot longer cause this continues after that but i decided to split the chapter into 2 so expect the next chapter soon. Also there’s special guest appearances by Raja, Manila and Alaska here because Raja is important to Violet’s back story and I felt like having Rajila and Alaska. I hope you enjoy xx

All Chapters on AO3 and AQ

Summary: ‘How to Get Away with Murder’ trophy wife style. (LESBIAN AU)

Before

It was raining. It was always raining around Christmas time now. She stared out at the marvellous garden that looked sad in the pouring rain.

The first time she had been here had been just before Christmas too but then there had been snow and she had still been blinded by the glitz and the glamour.

She turned around and looked at the room, a ballroom because apparently some people inherited giant mansions with ballrooms and a guest house bigger than most hotels. Not that she was complaining though, attending the engagement party meant a night away from Christian and she really needed the break. Especially since his parents were coming to town for Christmas. And where Christian was bad, his mother was worse.

It was shocking that he had even let her go but then again, this was Raja’s engagement party. And no matter how much Christian hated it, Raja had more money and more power than he would ever have.

Raja had invited Violet offhandedly last week when they had run into each other at an art gallery opening in Paris. They weren’t even in contact anymore, not since Violet had gotten married and alienated herself from all her old contacts.

Sure, there was the monthly facebook message from Kurtis she would reply to and the random wave from across the room to Raja but the bottom line was, she couldn’t talk to them.

She had not been able to escape from Raja last week though and while she was glad that she was in Princeton instead of New York, she had felt weird after having met Raja. Because the thing was, Raja had known Violet since she was 19 and Violet was way different back then and Raja was, behind the bad bitch attitude, fiercely loyal and hurtfully direct and had given Violet a reality check she hadn’t necessarily asked for. (“You’ve lost weight.” “You look tired.” “Are you okay?” “Come to my engagement party next week. You look like you need a distraction.”)

So this was where she was. In Princeton, New Jersey, wearing an overpriced but stunningly beautiful black jumpsuit with a cape her shoes kept getting stuck in and a glass of champagne, looking at Raja and Manila enjoying their engagement party. Money marries money, she thought bitterly even though she knew from looking across the room at Raja tenderly smiling while Manila was talking, that this had nothing to do with money. Violet took another sip of her champagne.

Raja caught Violet’s eye from across the room and Violet braced herself. Maybe she could’ve gotten away with telling Christian she would attend Raja’s engagement party and instead gotten herself a nice hotel room somewhere and done what she did best these days: think about Katya. Because the truth was Violet was sad and memories of Katya’s blonde hair and white teeth and loud laugh were hunting her. And sure it had only been two weeks and sure they never had the chance to exchange phone numbers or the such but if Violet was completely honest, the skiing trip had been the happiest she had been in a long time and frankly she was also head over heels in love with Katya which wasn’t helping at all.

“Violet!” Raja’s voice came from a few feet away before she hugged her. “Meet Manila.”

Violet had met Manila before, kind of. Because Raja had taken Violet to art galleries back in the day and because Manila and Raja, well that had been a long time coming.

“We met before, Raj,” Manila said softly while looking at Raja. “Hey Violet. Good to see you again.” And then she looked at Raja again and Violet felt as if she could actually see the bubble of happiness surrounding them. And she was thrilled for them because she loved Raja after all and Manila was lovely. It was just that she was just the tiniest bit miserable but tonight was not about her.

“Hey,” Violet echoed and even a simple ‘hey’ sounded weird. She never said ‘hey’ when she was at events with Christian but this was different because Raja and Manila were so rich that rich people customs didn’t even faze them anymore and Violet was a bit lost.

“Ehm, congratulations on your engagement! When’s the wedding?”

Raja smiled at Manila again and Violet made a mental note to never associate with people that were in love while she herself was pining.

“In June. Are you going to be there, darling?” Manila asked with a gentle smile to Violet and Violet decided that she liked Manila a lot.

“Ehm, I don’t know,” Violet said with a small smile to Manila before looking at Raja.

“You know you’re always welco- Oh my god!” Raja stared at something over Violet’s shoulder with a big smile on her face.

“I didn’t think you would come!” she exclaimed while walking past Violet. Violet and Manila followed her movements and Violet almost dropped her glass.

Katya. Katya actually here right now, being tightly embraced by Raja. Katya in a red dress that showed her boobs and her leg off because there was a dangerously high slit on one side. Not that Violet would complain.

Raja blocked Violet from Katya’s view and Violet tried to find the box with the social rules of interaction for‘how to act around your kind of affair that you’re inconveniently in love with and that also even more inconveniently is the wife of your husbands business partner’ in it. There was none. Surprisingly.

Raja was still kind of blocking Violet from Katya’s view and Katya was hugging Manila now because apparently she also knew both of them. What the fuck.

Katya turned to greet Violet, finally, and froze.

“Hey,” Violet said weakly and tried her best polite smile because she wasn’t sure what else to do.

Katya stared at Violet and while Violet was painfully aware of Raja’s and Manila’s confused stares, she took in Katya instead. Her hair was in a loose updo, the dress was sleeveless, her skin had a, no doubt artificial, tan, she looked like she had some kind of shimmer on her collarbones and her boobs. Not that Violet was staring. She looked at Katya’s face again instead. Red lips, of course, and smiled a little.

That smile, it seemed to wake Katya from her surprise for some reason.

“Vi,” she breathed out before closing the distance between them and hugging Violet closely. Katya must trust Manila and Raja a lot because this was definitely not how she would’ve acted in any other setting but Violet trusted Raja and Katya and even Manila who she barely knew so she just wrapped her arms tightly around Katya for a moment.

“Hey,” she said again, softly, before reluctantly moving out of the hug. Katya moved to stand closely next to Violet.

“I didn’t know that you two… knew each other,” Raja said with raised eyebrows and a sly smile and Violet knew that Raja could tell that Katya and Violet were… something.

“Uh, yeah,” Violet said dumbly and Katya let out tiny laugh and Violet really wanted to kiss her.

“Right,” Manila smiled awkwardly. “So how did you-”

“Raja! Manila! There you are, I thought I lost you,” came from a beautiful blonde woman that Violet identified as Alaska whom she knew simply because everyone knew Alaska. If you didn’t know her from movies, you knew her music or saw one of her paintings. Alaska was basically the epitome of talent and was looking at Katya in a way Violet didn’t like one bit.

“That’s a beautiful dress.” Alaska said to Katya with a pretty smile. She wasn’t looking at Violet and Violet wasn’t used to people not acknowledging her presence and the woman was still looking at Katya and it was bothering Violet.

“Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Violet,” she said and now Alaska was looking at her, confused but friendly.

“Alaska,” she introduced herself before looking back to Katya. Katya had a small smile on her face as she shook Alaska’s hand.

“Katya,” she stated her name before glancing at Violet and raising her eyebrows.

Alaska nodded lightly at her with a smile. “Is that dress Versace spring 2018?”

Violet rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “It is. Obviously.” She heard Raja snort next to her and Katya let out a light chuckle.

“Right,” Alaska said before looking at Katya again. “You have amazing facial structure.”

“Thanks?” Katya said and glanced at Violet again.

“Would you model for me? I would love to paint you,” Alaska asked.

“She’s married?” Violet interjected and mentally wanted to slap herself. She sounded absolutely ridiculous and not to mention, transparent.

“To you?” Alaska asked.

“What? No, that’s… no.”

Alaska looked back at Violet with raised and an awkward smile. “Sorry for assuming.”

“It’s okay,” Violet said helplessly and Katya let out a laugh while Raja and Manila looked at her confused but still smiling.

“Who wants drinks?” Manila asked after a slight pause.

“Me,” Alaska and Raja said at the same time, obviously desperate to get away from Violet’s crazy. Not that Violet could blame them. She really needed to tone the jealousy down.

They said their see you laters and Violet watched the three of them leave, Alaska talking about something, Raja and Manila listening while holding hands.

Katya’s arm wrapped itself around Violet’s waist and she let her chin drop onto Violet’s shoulder. “What the actual fuck was that?“

Violet groaned, Katya laughed.

“How are you?” Katya asked, her voice so soft, so gentle now and Violet was hit with just how much she had missed her.

“I’m fine,” Violet said while moving her hand on top of Katya’s interlacing their fingers and bathed in the beautiful surreality of it all. Katya, here, with her. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“Would it be very cheesy if I would say ‘I am now.’?”

Violet smiled and squeezed Katya’s hand. “Yes. Very.”

Katya laughed a little and her face was right next to Violet’s and she was actually here and their husbands were far away and there was nobody from their usual scene here, no reporters and this did feel like they were testing their luck.

Violet reluctantly removed herself from Katya and looked at her. “Do you have to leave tonight?”

She wanted Katya to stay the night, she hoped that Katya didn’t have to drive back to the city. She could, it was a less than two hour drive and Violet wouldn’t be surprised if David would have demanded that Katya would come back for the night. Christian had suggested that Violet would stay in Princeton. No doubt to meet with one of his mistresses.

“No. David is out of town.”

“Can you… Can you come to my room?” Violet asked and she didn’t know why her heart was beating so fast.

“Yes,” Katya smiled. “Yes, fuck yes.”

And then they were in Violet’s room, having left the party straight after dinner and speeches had happened.

Violet closed the door behind herself and then Katya was on her, fingers digging into Violet’s hips, her lips hungrily on Violet’s and Violet melted into the touch.

Katya leaned back and stroked some hair out of Violet’s face.

“I missed you.” She smiled at Violet, hesitantly, almost. “A lot.”

“I missed you too.”

They looked at each other for a moment and Violet let out a small giggle, Katya joining in a moment later. Violet pressed her lips back onto Katya’s and kissed her again, softly this time. She leaned back once more, body tightly pressed against Katya, her hands on Katya’s hip and at the back of her neck, and looked at her. Katya had a smile on her face that Violet never wanted to go away.

“Can you sleep here?” she asked because this was it, really, getting to fall asleep and wake up with Katya right there because apparently Violet wished for those mundane things now.

Katya nodded at her, big smile on her face and Violet felt giddy with it all. She pulled Katya’s face closer to her own again and wondered if she could ever get over the euphoria of it all.

[captainolive23]

Fun Facts about Lawrence, Kansas

(So this is mostly just for people who want their fics to be accurate. I'm not saying you have to use these things in fics but if you want to, here ya go.) Ok so as someone from Lawrence I have trouble reading supernatural high school au fics that take place in Lawrence because of all the inaccuracies. Which is the sucky part of having the main characters from your favorite show be from your home town. Ok so first off if your fic takes place before 1997(1996?) then there was only one high school in town (Lawrence High) but if you're making it take place in modern day then there are 2. The newer one is the one I went to so I'm gonna give you some facts about Free State cuz I don't know shit about Lawrence High. -Free State was designed by a prison designer. -they were going to name it "Quantill High" but if you know anything about Lawrence history you know that Quantrill was a dude from Missouri, who during the civil war came over to Lawrence and burnt the town to the ground and killed a shit ton of people. -when you first walk into free state you see the main common area which is also the lunch room. There's two main doors leading into this area. One is on the side that faces the main road and the other is on the side that faces the student parking lot. The entrance to the office is on the side with the parking lot. -up until my senior year anyone could pretty much walk in the doors any time of day. Then in my junior year there was a remodel and the office got moved so they started locking the doors during the day and if a parent needed to come in or if a student got in late you had to get buzzed in through the office. -one security guard is total dick and will get after anyone for anything. Like wearing hats for example. While wearing a hat was against the dress code, none of the teachers gave a shit. The principal didn't give a shit either. Hell the other security guard really didn't give a shit. But one time it was snowing and it was cold as fuck and I was wearing my hat. The second I walked in the door this guy was yelling at me for wearing a hat. -so the average school day goes from either 0 hour to 6th hour or 1st hour to 7th hour. Most people go 1-7 but one of my friends went 0-6 since she had to be at school super early every day anyway. 0 hour starts at 7 am. 1st hour starts at 8. I wanna say that 6th hour ends at 2:20ish but I could be wrong. 7th hour ends at 3:10. -there are 3 lunch periods taking place throughout 5th hour. 1st lunch was preferred by most people but second lunch was nice to cuz it cut 5th hour in half and made it feel waaayy shorter. -we also had open lunch where we could leave to go to one of the restaurants or stores that surrounded the school. There was taco bell, burger king, McDonald's, starbucks, Jimmy johns, arbys, little ceasars (which tastes like the schools pizza so we avoided going there), dominoes, Chipotle and orange leaf(frozen yogurt place) and there was a Wal-Mart, CVS, a dillons (krogers grocery store), hyvee (another grocery store) and sprouts (organic food grocery store). If you had a car you could probably go other places too but lunch was only 30 minutes long so most people didn't. -wednesday and Thursday are short days. Until my senior year (so last year) Wednesday schedule was 0,1,3,5,7 starting at 7 and ending at 2:30. Thursday was 2,4,6 and was late arrival so school didn't start until 9 and went until 2. That switched my senior year so now Wednesday is the super short day. -they also started holding classes at the new career and college center during my senior year. Basically juniors and seniors can take one 3 hour long class at this place and get college credit. The class I took was forensic science but there was also a nursing class and a robotics class. There were others to but I don't remember them. You could either take the class in the morning or in the afternoon (which is what I did) and it only lasted one semester but if you took the science class that gave you a whole science credit instead of half a credit like a normal science class. -you only needed 3 science and 3 math credits to graduate but it you wanted to go to college you needed 4 of each. You had to have 4 English credits to graduate. -senior consumer math taught you how to do taxes and shit. -as long as you're not an overachiever senior English classes are fucking easy as hell. My first semester class was myth, fantasy, and folklore and we barely had to to any writing and my teacher read to us cuz it was the first class of the day and Mr. Wolak was about to have his first kid so he was practicing his character voices. And the second semester class was a little harder cuz it was mostly writing but Ms. Elliot was super laid back (someone brought pot brownies to her class once and she ate one even tho she knew there was pot in it. Seriously there's a reason she was everyone's favorite teacher) -the dress code was not heavily enforced. The only person who really cared was the security guard I was talking about earlier. -juniors and seniors could be office aids or teacher aids. Becoming a teacher aid was a little harder cuz you had to get a note from the teacher and permission from your counselor but becoming an office aid was pretty easy as long as there was an opening. -you only had to have half a P.E. credit (one semester) to graduate. Most people took more since it was an easy a. -you also had to have half a foreign language credit. So now we're going to get into actual stuff about Lawrence. -LAWRENCE IS NOT A SMALL TOWN. In the 80s and early 90s it kind of was but it's not anymore so if you're writing a fic that takes place in the 80s or 90s then it's fine to write it as a smallish town. But if you're basing it in modern day Lawrence it's not small. The high schools are getting so overcrowded they're thinking of building a third one. -there are 14 elementary schools. 4 middle schools(which were junior high (7-9th grade) until my 8th grade year when it switched to middle school(6-8th) in 2011). There are 2 high schools. There's also a bunch of private schools but idk how many since they're not on the district website. -downtown Lawrence has a bunch of really cool old houses and all 3rd graders in the town get to take a tour of downtown Lawrence and see all the historic spots (like the giant boulder in the park and the oldest cemetery in town) -the sorority and frat houses are in downtown Lawrence. -there's this really creepy mansion between the frat houses that I always thought looked like a castle and I'm pretty sure a dentist lives there or at least did when I was little. -the guy who invented basketball lived here. -a couple years ago they blew up one of the dorm buildings cuz they built a new one and it was this huge thing that anyone who didn't have to work that day went to watch. I still have the video on my laptop. It was awesome. -the one place almost every teenager in town goes to hang out is java break. Its been here since my mom was a kid. They make milkshakes and smoothies and you can add cereal to them. There's a room in the back that's basically the graffiti room. You can draw on any surface you can find in there. There's some really cool art work in there and every once in a while they go in and paint over it. Most people just draw dicks tho. -the last day that the outdoor pool is open every summer they have a dog day where people bring their dogs to go swimming. I've never been since my dog hates water and other dogs but it always looks like fun. -on the 4th of July they have a firework show by the river which is next to downtown. I usually go to the hospital parking lot to watch it. -there's this one homeless dude who lives near the river who has chickens and the cops just sort of leave him alone cuz he's far enough away from any residential areas that he's not bothering anyone. -Lawrence is the most liberal town in Kansas mostly because Its a college town. We are an island of blue in a sea of red. -there are still racist homophobic douchebags here but not nearly as many as you would expect. There are a couple assholes that like to hang confederate flags on their trucks. Unfortunately said douchebags went to my school. They didn't have many friends tho. -the the Campbell's own pretty much everything in town. Every time they start another housing community they named it after one of their kids. From what I've heard most of their kids are pretty nice but I knew one of them and he was a total dick. He was the stereotypical rich white guy. -the other super rich family in town is the Compton's. They own peacocks, zebras and a camel. -both families live in these super huge mansions near free state high school. The Compton's oldest son dropped out of college to become a rapper and from what I heard he sucks at it. -for a long ass time there was only one place in town you could get fried chicken (kfc) but in the past 2 years we've gotten about 10 different fried chicken places. All of them within about a 3 block radius of each other. -for a long time (about 20 years) there was a bridge to no where next to the movie theater because they started building a road but then had to stop cuz they didn't have permission to build through the marshlands. They recently finished it. -the movie theater got remodeled in the last couple of years and it used to be super gross but now it has reclining seats that are super comfortable and it's a lot cleaner than it used to be -south park is downtown and it has a gazebo. -every year the humane society hosts a zombie walk downtown and it starts at south park. Its a really big thing. People decorate their jeeps with zombie parts and fake blood and have "zombie hunter" stickers. People dress up as either zombies or zombie hunters and walk through downtown. Some of the zombie costumes are fucking amazing. And there's always this one guy that goes with his daughter and they run up to random people and scream in their faces. My best friend got her picture in the paper one year cuz her zombie costume was that good. Anyway that's all I can think of for now. If anyone wants a part 2 or has any questions just ask and I'll do my best to help.

[winchester-reload]

What I’m working on...

I was tagged by the absolutely wonderful @formidablepassion to spill all my current WIP secrets. The secret is, I don’t have a lot ( I try to keep it manageable). But I’ll give you guys a little taste of the three I’m currently cooking. 

Only one of them is posted as a readable WIP right now, so I’m going to provide a small excerpt of each one, and for the posted one, a little excerpt from a chapter not published yet.

All of the following are Dean/Cas pairings, and all three will be explicit (though the excerpts are not).

Rules Do Dis: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, whatever.

What I’m working on:

After Dark (my AO3 nightmare child): I think I’ve made it no secret that this particular fic has been a bit of a struggle for me to write, but that’s my own fault. I should stop fighting the characters and just let The Thing(tm) happen that keeps trying to happen (and no, I won’t elaborate on that).

Current Unpublished Chapter (17): “Soft Light”

Dean was in a gray robe, tied tight around the waist. His hair was fluffy wet from the shower and his skin was a pinked kind of new that made him look about ten years younger. Everything was different, and Sam didn’t need a road map to know why.

“How is he?” he asked, and Dean offered the question a little consideration before shrugging.

“He’s okay. Sleeping. Out cold, actually, which is kinda strange to see--”

“He’s human.”

Dean’s breath holed up at that. He played his bottom lip between his teeth before nodding. “Yeah,” he agreed, “No more feathers.” And there was a little smile that chased it, because for everything Sam’s brother was, he was always a sucker for a sweet gesture, and Cas never seemed to miss an opportunity.

A Love Story in Pieces (unpublished): This is my 12x12-inspired (and coda-esque oneshot approximately 15k words, coming out soon. This particular excerpt takes place directly after 12x12, but the story itself is a stand-alone. (If it feels like I cut this excerpt off right before the porn, it’s because I am nothing if not an evil wench.)

“What do you want me to do?” Cas asked. “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you it was a mistake? That I messed up -- misspoke? I’ll say it.”

“I want you to cut the crap!”

Cas’ eyes dogged off the fallen books and back again. “Fine. I’m in love with you,” he said squaring his shoulders.  “I said it. And I meant it. I thought I was going to die, and I needed you to know.”

It was quick and sharp and so off-the-cuff, that it sliced straight through Dean’s chest and staggered him back. The air sucked out of him, and he suddenly felt blocked off. There was police tape everywhere and flashing red lights: DO NOT CROSS, YOU MORON. GO BACK. GO BACK RIGHT NOW -- but it was way too late for that. The words were already spilled: Fucking black and white on the page.

Not even just love this time.

IN LOVE.

Dean shook his head, backed up. “No,” he puffed, and it was hell gathering the energy to get it out. He bit his lip, tried to head the tears off, because a little pain always worked -- usually worked -- but they spilled over anyway. He wasn’t sure why the fuck it hurt so much. Like a straight razor dragged over the soft skin of his feet.

“No? No, what? I don’t understand.”

“No!” Dean shoved Cas into the shelves again, this time Cas caught his hand, shoved him back. Dean stumbled into the library table. It screeched along the floor as it kicked sideways.

“Why are you trying to fight me?”

“Because you were gonna die!”

“I don't understand, Dean! I’m trying to understand!”

“I dunno how to get an angel back, you sonofabitch! If you tell me you love me an’ you die, and I can't get you back!”

Cas blinked surprise back at him, that bottom lip wobbling. “But I didn’t...” he huffed. “I didn’t die…”

He didn’t--

Versions of Me (unpublished): This is an drafting-stage, Girl, Interrupted kinda AU (yeah, an actual AU. IDK, I figured I’d try something different). Length unknown atm. The summary will read something like:

Life is hard, living is harder. As Dean trudges through his own psychological break, he learns what it means to find support in others, and in opening himself up, maybe even more. 

A quiet look at the difficulties of dealing with mental illness, and how ‘bent’ does not necessarily mean ‘broken’.

~CW: suicidal ideation~

((Side Note: This excerpt is a very unpolished, first-draft run just for kicks))

Get a fuckin’ grip, Winchester.

He buried his face in his hands, took a long breath, settled on his knees.

Mid October had the leaves jumping, the trees and the whole world turning orange. He watched the patches of fallen leaves gather and dance over the grass. At the edge of the field, a group of evergreens bent in the wind. Snow wouldn’t be too far away, and that’s what the wind was telling everyone now. A friendly whisper that congenial temperatures were packing up and heading south.

He closed his eyes and breathed it in. It smelled like something only people on the other side of the fence got: freedom. Except he realized as he sat there, the fence wasn’t just around the field, because even when he was on the other side of it, there was still something just like it bottling up his mind.

But, at least he could touch the fence.

He’d lost the orderly at the edge of the patio, sitting now in a folding lawn chair at the edge of the concrete, just watching.

Dean flopped back into the grass with a huff and stared up at the sky. Stars growing bold as they chased the fading sunlight to the horizon, cold dew eating into the thin hospital thread at his back.

Didn’t matter. Make me cold. Better’n numb.

He suddenly caught Cas out of the corner of his eye. Butted up to the chain link a couple feet away, fingers threading it behind his head. Outside. Always outside.

He too had eyes on the sky. Of course he did. His neck a lovely curve in the shadow, and it struck Dean a little odd that he noticed it.

“Yeah you do,” he blurted and Cas looked over, snagging Dean in his face again. The bags under his eyes caught the shadows while his cheekbones laughed them away.

“What do I do?” he asked quietly.

“You think you’re an angel. I see the way you look at the sky.”

Castiel cocked his head. “Have you been watching me, Dean?”

Dean’s admittedly heavy heart picked up a couple steps, and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “Just happened to catch you,” he lied.

“Yes, well, fortunately thinking I’m an angel and believing I’m an angel are two very different things. In this case, anyway.”

Dean wanted to ask what that meant, but he didn’t, so the wind did them a favor and filled the gaps. It took Cas’ hair and brushed it back. Even in the shadow his eyes could talk.

“I know this is a stupid question,” he said leaning over his knees, “but, are you alright? I know there’s an adjustment period.”

“The adjustment period has me by the balls, I think,” Dean admitted.

“I figured. I don't suppose you know how close to sedated you almost got.”

“Huh?”

Cas threw a thumb toward the patio. “He’s got a haldol cocktail in that pocket. It isn’t fun.”

Dean looked back, saw the orderly turning something in his hands.

“How long?”

“Six to eight hours of zombie land.”

“No, how long have you been here?”

Cas picked a blade of grass, squinted. “Oh. Which time?”

Dean mulled it and swallowed a follow up comment. There was something so latently sad about that answer that he couldn’t put his finger on. But he was pretty sure it had everything to do with the intelligence he saw in those eyes.

Change the subject.

“Can’t drink, can’t smoke… can’t kill yourself. What the hell you supposed to do in this place beside tick off Gigantor for a dose of the not fun drugs?”

Castiel chuckled. “Why can’t you?” then he added, “smoke,” just to be clear.

“My fuckin’ brother. I love the guy, but he’s a moral highground kinda asshole, and it just don’t rub with me.”

“Ah, more flags?”

“Bingo.”

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