#or really fucking sappy because someone was willing to beat the shit out of the Joker for him

[xysidhequeen]

I just found the last bit you posted and I AM HERE AND ALL THE EXCITED FOR JOKER'S SHATTERED KNEECAPS. GO GETTEM, DANNY!

Ahem. I mean, yeah, it sounds like it could be fun.

Sorry it took awhile for me to respond. I've been really sick the past week, and I'm still sick and too exhausted to write. But! I wanted you to know i appreciate the ask, and the interaction. Honestly the interactions keep me passionate so continue to feed me.

I'm glad you're excited for Danny confronting the Joker, so have a treat.

💚

"Oh! What is this? A little game of freeze the clown? Who's playing? Is that you, Mr. Freeze?" The Joker called out, sitting up from his cot and clapping his hands.

"No," Danny spoke, voice tinged in static as he let himself be seen, knowing his body was distorting. Limbs too long, too many joints, teeth too sharp and smile too wide. Like someone who had never seen a human tried to draw one off the words of a blind man. Uncanny, unnatural, not quite right.

[sincerelybubbles]

she’s the one || katsuki bakugou

summary: the three times katsuki bakugou almost kissed you, and the one time he did 

warnings: pining, mutual pining, resolved pining, cursing, drinking 

2.1k words

a/n: happy sunday, i had to take the opportunity to be cliché as fuck, sorry but not really

--

Katsuki Bakugou was not the type to like puzzles – he had exactly no patience for that. Life has enough problems, why the fuck would you add more?

And yet, here he was, trying to work her out, turning her words and actions around in his head over and over like somehow the puzzle of her would click if he just thought hard enough. And, the worst part, he was doing it because he wanted to; he wanted to figure her out, why she made his heart beat so fast when she smiled why he hung onto every word that left her lips – why was he so damn fascinated by those lips? He found himself memorizing the way they looked pronouncing every syllable – especially his name.

His name, something he never really considered, unless Deku was calling him by that dumbass nickname, and yet, here he was craving to hear it rolling off of her tongue.

“Ka. . . Katsuki-kun.” Correction – craving to hear it come out of those perfect lips, sober.

She flopped down next to him, giggling as she wobbled and caught herself on his arm and jostling the beer in his hand.

“Yes?” Katsuki turned his head, not even bothering to make his tone sound annoyed like he normally would, she wouldn’t remember tonight anyway.

“You haven’t sung yet.” She was talking too slow and too loud at the same time.

Katsuki let his eyes drag around the Karaoke bar that his friends dragged him to, spotting Mina and Denki singing a duet on the stage. He winced at their clashing voices.

“Not really my thing.” Katsuki told her, looking down at where her hand was still clutching his arm, debating if he should cut off her drinks before it was too late, and she blacked out completely.

“Just one song?” She pouted and Katsuki found his eyes locked on her protruding lower lip, tempted to lean the small distance forward and capture it in his own. He wondered how she would react.

She would probably kiss him back – he’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice her lingering glances and flirting comments. But then she’d hold Kirishima’s arm while walking and talk to him in whispered giggles, and Katsuki wasn’t so sure. Maybe he imagined her frequent smiles.

And, even if he was right, which he was about eight-four percent sure he was, he knew she deserved better. He had no idea how to spoil someone how she deserved to be spoiled. Hell, the only experience with girls he’d ever had were the few flings he had in college.

Even still, he found himself fighting the urge to close the distance, to take her still pouting lip in between his own, to kiss her until she was gasping and clutching at his shirt.

He refrained – she wouldn’t even remember tonight, and if she did, she’d count it as a drunken mistake.

“’Suki-chan?” She asked, and his heart pounded at the shortening of his name. It sounded to pure, innocent, casual rolling off her tongue.

“Fine, but you’re going up with me.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

She squealed and jumped up, grabbing his hand, and attempting to pull him up.

“One song.” He reminded her, standing only when she was nodding enthusiastically.

“One song!” She promised, holding out her pinky to him. She giggled when he hesitantly looped his pinky through hers, a slight blush covering his cheeks.

He followed her, of course he did. And when she asked to sing another duet after their first? Of course, he complied, relishing in the feeling of her eyes on him, her giggles only heard by him.

--

How dare she wear that. How dare she show up to this dumb ass event wearing that.

The skirt to her dress was surely missing a few inches, and the shoulder she was showing had him transfixed for much longer then it should have.

It was a simple barbeque; how dare she dress so cute. How dare she make him consider something cute.

Katsuki would consider himself a simple man. He typically only really looked at girls as people – obstacles in his way to the top – maybe once or twice on a lonely night as someone to fill his bed. Never as someone cute. He never listened so intently when someone talked, never was so willing to make someone smile. He never considered someone before himself, and yet here he was filling her a drink before he’s even made his own because her favorite drink happened to be nearly gone.

“Here.” He knew he startled her slightly as she jumped before taking the cup from his hand with a smile. He found it wasn’t hard to return it, before he leaned on the table beside her, sipping his own drink. He made a face at the sickly-sweet taste enveloping his tongue.

“Not your favorite?” She asked, and Katsuki realized his error.

“Shit, this was supposed to be for you, that ones mine.” He pushed himself off from the table, prepared to walk across the yard and find her another cup when hands much smaller than his own gently pried the cup from his hands.

“I figured.” She was giggling beside him, offering the cup in her hand to him. He took it, watching the drink she stole from him in her hands. Tracking its path as it made its way to her lips, watched as she took a slow sip and smiled at the sweet taste he grimaced at only moments before. He watched as her tongue peeked from behind her lips to catch any leftover taste. “Thank you, Katsuki-kun.”

It was all he could do to nod, swallowing and taking a sip from his own drink, fighting another grimace as he found it too bitter now.

He wondered if he pressed his lips to hers, would he mind the sweetness?

He let himself imagine, only for a moment, pressing his lips to hers, catching her cheek in his hand, titling her back and deepening it. He could almost hear her gasp.

“Let’s go dance!” She exclaimed, jumping up and throwing back the rest of her drink. Realizing he wasn’t copying her, she jutted one hip out and held her opposite hand out for him. “C’mon Katsuki-kun.” She fluttered her lashes. “You wouldn’t leave a lady to dance alone, right?”

“Ah, right.” He found himself saying, ignoring the small voice in the back of his head reminding him he hated dancing.

Dancing with her was almost unfair, he was allowed to put his hand on her hip, to draw her close, to feel her chest brush against his for a second, but she always wound up twirling away from him.

“You’re an awful dancer.” He observed, catching her as she almost fell again.

“And you’re shockingly good at dancing.” She rolled her eyes before placing her hands on his shoulders, applying pressure. “Although, you’re much too stiff! Relax, Katsuki-kun, dancing is about having fun.”

He rolled his eyes and looked away with a scoff to hide the blush creeping up his neck.

“Yeah, okay.” Why couldn’t he think of something better to say? Now she was quiet, although still smiling. He found himself looking into her eyes. She licked her lips, and he found himself mimicking the action.

They slowly twirled for a few moments, captivated. Katsuki could barely focus on the music enough to ensure that he was swaying to the right beat.

“See? You’re much relaxed.” Her breath fanned across his face, and Katsuki scoffed gently.

“Yeah, okay.” He forced his tone to be annoyed but knew that she saw through it. She always saw right through him. He expected her to call him out on his bullshit, like she always did, but instead she only smiled and pulled herself closer to him – oh God was she trying to kill him?

She tilted her chin up, and he was bending his neck down. Shit, she wanted this as much as he did, right? Her eyes were closing, and so were his. Her bottom lip brushed his upper lip and he fought a shudder forcing its way up his chest.

“Hey- oh!” Fucking shitty hair, Katsuki could kill him right now.

Katsuki listened as they talked and laughed. He fought to keep himself breathing through the rage forcing its way through his veins. In through his nose, out through his mouth.

She had stepped away, although her hand was still pressing into his forearm, holding him in place much closer to him then they usually stood.

“We were just playing ping pong.” Katsuki found it in him to look up at Kirishima, to act as if he had been listening. To act like the best chance he had to fulfil his fantasies hadn’t just been ripped away. “Do you want to go play a round?” And shit, she was just going to leave, and he was going to have to just stand here –

“Maybe in a bit, Katsuki and I were about to go get some food.” Then she was smiling and tugging him along. The lights around him were blurring. No worries, they were dull compared to her.

She brought him to a secluded area before turning around suddenly. His breath was caught in his throat at the repressed frustration written clear as day across her face. He waned to reach forward and capture her cheek with his hand, to hug her and make the look go away.

He pressed the thought down, annoyed at his own thoughts. Who the fuck was he to have such sappy thoughts? Plus, she was obviously upset with him. Chasing this stupid dream wasn’t going to get him anywhere, he needed to stop.

“You always look at me like you want to kiss me, why don’t you ever just do it?” Katsuki hesitated for a moment, taken aback by her words. He shoved his fists into his pockets and shrugged.

It was no use denying the fact, he didn’t think he was able to lie to her after nearly kissing her moments before.

“I didn’t want to assume.” It was one of the most honest things he had ever said, and it was completely true.

“Assume away.” She whispered, taking a step closer to him. He felt his eyes widen and instinctually, he took a step back.

“What? The fuck are you talking about?” He asked, angry that he was probably taking this all the wrong away.

“’Suki-kun.” Her voice was soft as her eyes searched his. She took a step closer and placed her hand on his chest. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. “It’s just me, you don’t have to act that way.”

He watched her with wary eyes as she intertwined her arms around his neck slowly. He found his hands making their way to her hip, the small of her back. He really didn’t want her to move, but he really didn’t want to be wrong.

Fuck, he really really wanted to kiss the breath out of her. He wanted to claim her in every way possible. He had a list longer than his arm of things he wanted to take her to see.

But none of it was worth loosing her entirely over a stupid fucking crush. He had to be sure.

“Kiss me.” She said, clear as a bell. She was close enough that he felt the words before he heard them.

Before he could even think, he moved the hand from her hip to her cheek and pulled her closer, tipping her head back and crashing his lips against hers.

He always swore to himself that if he ever got the chance to kiss her, he would be gentle. He would take his time. But he didn’t have the restraint, and found himself growing into the kiss, kissing her with a bruising force.

He swallowed her moans as he moved his tongue against hers, feeling as though he would never tire of the taste of her. She pulled away all too soon and pressed her forehead against his, breathing heavily. A few short breaths later she leaned forward to press a series of short kisses onto his mouth.

“Fuck.” He whispered.

While he had thought it before, this was the moment for certain that Katsuki Bakugou knew that he was hers. He would take anything she would give and knew he would be content with that. Sharing the same breath with her in this moment confirmed that.

He always thought being in love would make him feel weak, but in this moment, with her mouth reaching toward his again, he felt stronger than ever.

[anxiouslyfred]

The Stone Gaze

Summary: Virgil hates that he can temporarily turn people into stone and hopes that whatever the mirror superpower his soulmate has is able to counteract it.

He wasn’t quite expecting the energy and impulsiveness of Remus when they met in an Art Exhibition.

/\/\/\

Virgil hated his powers. He hated a lot of things really, but the power he had was the number one thing he hated and that barely even counted as self-hate or self-deprecation given a lot of the reasoning for it was how his powers impacted his life.

The only time he'd come close to thinking his 'superpower' (as society had deemed things not everybody could do) was when they were studying mythology and had covered Medusa. She had turned people to stone permanently as a gift to protect herself from those who would idolise or attack her. Before they learnt the ending that had seemed like a pretty cool thing to be able to do, but then she was killed as part of a heroes journey and Virgil realised how little people would think of his power should they learn about it. It was mythologically a villains power after all.

Hiding his powers wasn't enough to keep Virgil from the attention of bullies. They picked on him because he always wore his father hoodie after they lost him to illness. They'd call him names because he'd learnt to keep his hair, especially his fringe long enough to cover his eyes so nobody would get accidentally turned to stone. Eventually they'd even harass him to do their homework because his Dad pushed for good study habits.

Refusing to react to their insults or requests only reached the point they tried to beat him up once. When the leader of that group had shoved him against a wall his hair had fallen backwards, leaving a clear gaze directed to the bullies. As soon as the leader became stone the other kids had fled, crying for the teacher to come help.

Virgil's Dad had been called to the school to pick him up and explicitly direct everyone's attention to what had clearly been happening, given the position the boy had been frozen in while refusing to allow any punishment to be given to Virgil. Even once that was accepted by the teachers and school they tried to demand that he wore sunglasses or a visor to school for the safety of staff and children alike.

“I will not police the clothes my son wears because your staff cannot respect someone who doesn't meet their gaze directly. He has found that the long fringe is enough to counteract his powers and given the years he has attended this school without incident that should be perfectly suitable to carry on with.” His Dad has lectured the head teacher that day. He'd given more evidence that Virgil hadn't listened to, but the sentence stuck in his head. Once more his powers were up to him to control and prevent from being used and it felt like an even heavier weight to carry than he'd already found it.

The days of his schooling after that were lonely, isolated as he feared anyone he might befriend would try to meet his eyes. The only hope he had for getting through his life was that somewhere in their world was his soulmate; a person whose powers would mirror his own, and possibly, on the nights Virgil was willing to dream impossible things, counteract his gaze that turned people to stone.

/Over to Remus\

Roman had been the one to bring Remus into exhibiting his work. Honestly, Roman had been the twin to get them both into the art world in the first place. The charismatic, charming artist, whose painting were filled with energy most paintings couldn't capture and dreamt of finding his soulmate. When the art world had discovered he had a brother just as skilled in sculpting they were pulled around and paired together for exhibits constantly.

Remus had originally tried to explain the truth, that their works looked like they held more of life in them because that was what their powers did. Roman could bring paintings to life temporarily, and had often painted portraits of his friends and family so he could still talk to them while they were away. Remus in contrast brought sculptures to life when he touched them with a wish to talk. They'd always be in different positions than he'd awakened them from by the time the power wore off so he got praised for how realistic or believable his positions were.

None of that praise meant anything to Remus though. He sculpted things to feel less alone, to have people to talk to that wouldn't react in disgust or turn away when he said something a little more twisted than society was used to hearing. Each model he made had a mouth to talk and their own way to express their reactions so he could for a while feel accepted by someone other than his brother.

Today he had actually listened to Roman's claims that it's better for their exhibitions when the artist spends times at the display. Of course that didn't mean he was going to dress any differently that normal, just throwing on the torn skinny jeans and an off the shoulder top, with a jacket draped over his shoulders for when the air conditioning got too cold. Art Galleries always seemed to keep the space too cold, Remus swore on it.

“You can't be in here Mate.” An angry voice said, a hand accompanying it yanking him around to face a tall suited man, scowling down at him. “This is an art gallery and I don't care what the fuck you did to sneak in here you're gonna be-”

Remus had already started glancing for a nearby sculpture to reach for when the words cut off. The man whose voice had slowly been raising had now turned to stone, finger raised to point out the door.

“I'm the artist?” He blinked, properly turning now to try and find who else was in the gallery that might have done it.

A few metres directly behind where Remus was, there was a man looking like he would run any second, staring at the floor as though ashamed. “Sorry, I didn't mean to do that.” He mumbled, “The yelling startled me.”

“You're okay, dude. No harm, no wild birds around here.” Remus nodded, reaching back to poke the side of the angry man, focusing on him being alive and calm now.

“Apologies, I probably shouldn't have yelled, but seriously, homeless people aren't allowed in art galleries.” The man who had been yelling declared, having taken a deep breath as the stone released him.

Remus just raised an eyebrow at that. “Just because I haven't dressed all posh like you doesn't mean I'm homeless. And given I'm the one who sculpted most of the statues in this gallery, I believe your judgemental attitude can be taken elsewhere, or shoved up your ass since that seems to be where the rest of your personality is kept. Have your fun in hell, not in my gallery.” He spoke quickly, already directing the man away from the gallery, and nodding to the security guard that wandered between their exhibits.

He didn't delay any longer than that, caring more for the man who had turned him to stone than anything more that could be said. That had to be the complete opposite to his own powers, whether it had been a permanent transformation or just a temporary one, he wanted to know.

Luckily the man was still stood there, blinking at the spot where the angry fellow had been frozen. “He- he shouldn't... That never wears off that quickly.” He was mumbling to himself, not realising Remus had returned.

“Hey there modern day Medusa, you doing alright?” Remus tapped his shoulder, tilting his head when the acknowledgement was for the man to stare at his neck rather than look at him.

“F-fine. Sorry about that though. It really was an accident.”

“Why are you apologising for helping me calm the situation down before he did more than yell? I got him out of the stone and sent on his way. It's all hot stuff in heaven today.” Remus was genuinely confused over what was upsetting the man in front of him. Everything had been sorted out so surely they could move on to talking about soulmates already.

There was a quick glance up, to stare at his ear now, or maybe something over his shoulder. “You got him out of the stone? That wasn't my power just wearing off more quickly than normal?” There was a plea in his voice, as though scared of his own power.

“Yep, and while I can't really prove that here, given everything is already photographed and needs to remain the same to be sold, you can come see my works in progress. I'm Remus, by the way, Remus Windsor.” The offer was easy to give. No matter what people believed about needing to test contrasting powers in public to understand if they're completely opposites, he just wanted to calm this person down. Roman would understand that and hopefully leave to paint in the park or some sappy shit like that.

“Virgil and, yeah, please can we do that?” Virgil nodded, holding a shaking hand out towards him, while the other started pulling the hair that had fallen to his ears back in front of his eyes.

As Remus took his hand he was finally able to meet Virgil's gaze and grinned, tugging on it so they could run out of the gallery together, looking something between art thieves making their escape and teenagers causing mischief.

/To the art gallery\

“Princess, you better get your fat ass and any talking paintings the hell out of here. I've got my Medusa and we need to confirm this shit without an audience.” Remus barged through the doors still tugging Virgil along behind him.

Virgil was astounded by what had occurred in the last hour. He'd only visited the art gallery on a whim, curious over just how lifelike a sculptures positioning could be compared to what he'd seen when accidentally using his own power on people. He hadn't expected to almost add to the exhibition temporarily or to meet someone who could be his soulmate there as well.

Now he could only look around the studio that Remus had explained he shared with his brother. The walls were covered in paintings in various stages of completion. Some looked finished but missing the energy that the paintings back in the gallery had held, others were clearly completely done, but held back. A few canvases were merely sketches or only had their backgrounds coloured in.

Then there was the stone. There were throughout the entire studio several large boulders, some chipped into enough that a hand could be seen reaching out, or the nose of a dog. A few were just legs waving into the air, vague shapes for the rest of the body chipped away but the lips immaculately carved. There was even a potters wheel at the opposite end with a few vases and ceramic models left on a table beside it.

“Remus, seriously, you cannot just kick me out. I'm doing an oil painting.” There was a man identical to Remus stood in front of the only Easel in the gallery, now turned to them frowning with his brush poised to the canvas.

Virgil dithered for a moment before stepping forward. “Oil paints don't exactly dry quickly. You could spare a few minutes for us to figure our if we're soulmates couldn't you?” He muttered, for the first time in years looking up as someone turned to him. He wasn't going to deliberately use his powers without permission now, but having some evidence that Remus actually can reverse the medusa affect straight away would seriously take a weight from his mind.

The painter watched him for a moment before stepping closer, setting his brush down. “I'm Roman. Wouldn't it be more useful for you to prove this on a real person? Although I can understand the uses of turning Remus's sculptures back to stone at will. There's been a few incidents where they've been even worse than he can be.”

“Roman's volunteering to be tortured. Let's do it, see how long we can keep making him stone and real again in quick succession.” Remus stage whispered at him, cackling when Roman flipped him off.

Virgil just nodded, “Only once. I want to know if Remus actually can reverse this.” He cautioned, but turned his head enough to properly meet Roman's gaze, watching as grey stole over his body in a second.

Before Virgil could worry over how Remus would react to seeing that done deliberately, he was leaning forwards to shove his brother backwards, giggling along with the action. Roman was human again by the time he hit the floor, now scowling up at Remus.

“Okay, Rude. I offer to help my darling sibling confirm their soulmate is theirs and you shove me to the floor. I cannot work in such a hostile environment. I'm taking my leave of you, pray it won't be permanently.” He stood up, throwing the glare at them and leaving with all the dramatics of a pantomime dame.

Virgil had to snicker along with Remus as the door was slammed shut. Honestly, half of it was that he had to laugh or he might just burst into tears. In all his wildest dreams he hadn't thought his soulmate would be so excited to have his powers with them.

“Let's try on my figurines! I'm trying to make a dragon witch I can set lose to torment Roman when I'm heading out, and already have my Cthulhu baby, just waiting to be given life. Wanna see if you can turn them back to stone if I wake 'em up?” Remus was once again holding his hand and tugging him to the other end of the room as soon as he finished laughing.

“Before we do that, are you wanting a romantic soulmate, or a platonic one? I don't really care which we have but I'd be happier if we got to know each other first.” Virgil hesitated a moment, tugging back on his arm.

Remus waved off the question. “We'll cross that bridge when we reach it. If you want sex or not I'm making models I can sleep with anyway. They're funny to talk to if they realise how I made their bodies. Come on, meet my Cthulhu baby!” The whine was emphasised by bouncing and Virgil's arm being jumped up and down rapidly.

“Okay, okay, guess that explains why some are so twisted around as though trying to hide their bodies.” Virgil laughed, walking once more towards the table.

Virgil hated his superpower, and probably always would, but perhaps Remus can help him find a couple of things it's good to be medusa for.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Tracing Time

Monday, 15:18

Song: The Neighbourhood - Reflections

The clock at the front of the lecture hall is too far away for Sander to actually hear its ticking, but it feels like it’s louder than the tapping of his pen where he’s drumming it against his notebook. This is propped open with only a few lines of actual notes and a lot of doodles, with a quick, ragged sketch of Robbe on the bottom half of the page. Sander sighs quietly to himself as he fails his futile attempt to listen to the professor, and goes back to the drawing to add on some extra shading and more careful detail.

This is so much easier to get caught up in. Time disappears when it comes to art or Robbe, so combining the two is similar to falling into a black hole. The gravity of it is so strong, making it impossible for Sander to escape as time stops and everything else ceases to exist. He gets eaten up in it, lost until the point where everything whites out but the scratch of pen on paper and the familiar shape of Robbe’s eyes. There is no talking or ticking to make him want to peel his skin off (or at least fidget about in his chair).

It’s not the best plan, however, because he zones out a little too completely. He doesn’t realise that the class has ended until a girl clears her throat next to him, standing in the aisle and waiting to get past. Sander whips his gaze around and notices his other classmates already filing out of the room.

He flushes, muttering an apology as he quickly gets to his feet and presses back to let the girl and her friend slip past him. She glances down at his notebook as she passes and her lips quirk in a knowing smile, but she merely says, “Cute. Nice work on the lips.”

Sander’s blush deepens, but he returns her smile and manages to thank her quietly before she slips away. Her friend raises her brows and smirks at him, but doesn’t say anything as she follows. He lets out a breath and slumps back against his now folded-up chair, taking a moment to collect himself. He snatches up his bag and hastily stows away his belongings, only taking time to carefully close the notebook and tuck it in between the others in his bag. He trots down the steps and almost makes it to the door without any further embarrassment, and then the professor is calling his name.

Lars Coomans isn’t Sander’s favourite professor, only because he teaches art theory rather than anything practical. Sander doesn’t mind learning about history when he finds the subject interesting, but that only happens about twelve percent of the time. (Again, this isn’t Lars’ fault.) The man is not his favourite professor, but he might be one of his favourite people. He’s a tall man in his late forties with a tiny bald patch on the right side of his head and a soft voice. He’s relatively laid back and certainly kind.

For this reason, Sander doesn’t even feel the need to groan as he hangs back, even while the last stragglers shoot him curious looks on the way out. Lars waits until they’ve left to smile at Sander and lean back against his desk, head tilted as he considers his student.

Now, Sander begins to feel a bit nervous.

“How are you, Sander?”

The question is kind, careful, and it baffles him. He knows that all of his professors are aware of his illness, but none of them make a habit of checking up on him. They’re aware, from when he misses a week or two of classes or, on the rare occasion, needs to ask for an extension on an assignment. They’re aware, but beyond that, it doesn’t come up. No one makes a fuss about it and he’s grateful. And maybe Lars isn’t, either, maybe it’s just his kindness sprouting in the start of the conversation, nothing more than a mere courtesy. But the searching way he’s looking at Sander makes him hesitant, and he clasps his right hand around his left wrist and shifts on his feet before clearing his throat. He decides to take the casual route. “I’m fine, how are you?”

Lars seems to relax, lips quirking further for a moment before he shakes his head and waves a hand. “Oh, good, good, thank you. No, I’m not trying to be nosy, I just ask because you didn’t submit your assignment before noon today.”

Sander blinks. “Sorry?”

“The papers that were due this morning?” Lars blinks back, tilting his head. When Sander continues to stare at him blankly, he offers, “On the renaissance?”

Oh. Sander’s mouth opens and closes for a moment before he finds his voice. “But that’s not due until Friday evening?” It comes out as a question as his brow furrows in confusion. He’s sure the two assignments weren’t due in one day, and he frequently checks his calendar. He’s lost, and he’s beginning to panic slightly.

“No, it was due today,” Lars says softly, searching again as he crosses his legs at the ankles and taps the edge of his desk. “Daems has an assignment due on Friday, I believe, you have him, don’t you?”

Realisation hits abruptly. “Fuck,” he breathes, raising a hand to cover his face. “Shit, sorry. I don’t know—I must have mixed the dates, put the classes in wrong.” Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But Lars just nods, his whole posture softening in understanding. “Alright,” he sighs. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up, it’s an easy mistake. Can you get it to me by the end of the day?”

Sander swallows. “I haven’t started it,” he admits. He’d started doing the research, but he didn’t even have enough of that yet. He would be lucky to finish that by the end of the day, never mind the paper itself.

“Okay, well, you thought you had until Friday.” Lars rubs a hand over his chin and finally just shakes his head. “Alright. I’ll put you down for an extension until the time you thought it was due. And at least you don’t have the other one to worry about now, since I’m assuming that means you submitted it this morning.”

Relief flows through Sander in streams, but the banks are prickled. He purses his lips tightly and squeezes his wrist. “Lars, I just fucked up. I don’t have a good excuse, I don't want any pity.”

“No,” Lars immediately protests, pushing away from his desk to stand closer to Sander. “It’s nothing of the sort. No pity, or special treatment. You explained you made a mistake and I’ve no reason not to trust you.” He sighs, shaking his head. “You’re one of the best students here, Sander. I know because I pass that work of yours on the street every day. Even someone that good has to slip up sometimes, hm?”

Sander can only stare at him, feeling his cheeks warm again. He ducks his head, embarrassed at the compliment and the thought of his professor seeing the magnitude of his sappy love on a regular basis.

Lars only chuckles, bumping Sander’s shoulder. “I know I’m teasing, but I mean it. You’ve never even asked me for an extension before. I know you weren’t just slacking off. It feels bad, I know, but it’s not a big deal, kid. Just brush it off and then get it done, alright?”

Sander considers him. Then with a deep breath, he nods and murmurs, “Thank you.”

“Don’t stress.” Lars squeezes his shoulder, then waves him away. “Come find me or email me if you have any questions, okay? Now go on, no need to hang around an old man any longer.”

Sander huffs, but offers him one last nod and grateful smile before making his way out. As soon as he’s passed through the door, he falters in his step and his eyes close, anger towards himself returning with a vengeance. How could he have made such a stupid mistake? How has it taken this long for that to happen?

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes for a moment, willing the frustration away. It doesn’t work entirely, but he manages a few slow breaths and collects himself enough to leave. He doesn’t think too much about where he’s going, just follows the feeling and lets his feet carry him to his bike, then pedal automatically through the streets.

The garage comes into view, and Sander tucks his bike away before rapping his knuckles against the door, not having to think about the familiar knock beyond muscle memory. His feet are tapping on the ground, and he does his best to shake the nerves out of his skin as he waits.

He’s not in full panic mode yet, not really. The only thoughts he can conjure are more swears and variations of stupid, stupid, stupid. He needs something distracting enough to quiet these rants down, but mindless enough that he can attempt to sort his thoughts out.

This is part of the reason he can’t go to Robbe, no matter how much he wants to. Robbe will be too kind. Too soothing. He’s the only one ever able to fully drown out Sander’s thoughts enough so that he stops being unkind to himself.

He doesn’t want that, at the moment. He thinks he deserves this more.

This being the frustration that leads him to bang the rhythmic code on the door once more when he doesn’t get an answer.

“Woah,” a familiar voice interrupts. “You’re not usually the kind who breaks in by knocking the place down.”

Sander turns slowly on his heel to face Adi. The man (as Sander considers him, because he is actually three years older and holds genuine wisdom on occasion) is staring him down in amusement. Quite literally staring down, as he has a good few inches on Sander, but he often leans back and slouches his shoulders to make up for it. He’s only about as tall as Jens, really, but he’s broader and looks overall bigger and more intimidating.

Robbe might be tiny next to him, and Sander might find it adorable, but Robbe is also completely unfazed because of long-time exposure to Jens.

Which is only mildly disappointing. (Robbe is extra adorable when he’s both dwarfed and flustered.)

“Sorry,” Sander says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “I didn’t think that there might not be anyone here. I should’ve texted you first.”

Adi just huffs and moves to open the door, shaking his head fondly. “Yeah, that would’ve been easier on your hands.” His own light-brown hand is slender and quick as he unlocks the door, movements as automatically familiar as Sander’s when he’s drawing.

They don’t speak even as they make it inside. Adi traipses around quietly to turn on lights and check up on everything, weaving between trucks, and Sander moves through to the back of the room to the piece he’s been working on. He throws his bag down and immediately crouches to examine his paint cans, eyes flickering between them and his work as he debates where to pick up again. Adi joins him after a moment, but still hangs back, leaning against the wall behind Sander silently.

Sander thinks this is probably why Adi might actually be his best friend, because he has known Adi even longer than his group from the Academy and Adi understands him just as well as Lucas.

“I fucked up,” Sander says eventually, so quietly he’s unsure if Adi hears him over the spray of the can. He’s ready to repeat himself in the responding silence, but then Adi is standing at his side.

Adi tilts his head. “Not with Robbe.”

“No,” Sander agrees, and finds some relief in it. At least it isn’t Robbe.

“Another friend?”

“School.”

“Oh. Bad?”

Sander lets his hand fall to his side and sighs. Adi is calm and curious but not comforting, nothing more than a steady presence next to him. It allows Sander to reorder his thoughts into something he can actually articulate. “No, it’s not even a problem, really. I just made a mistake and it’s pissing me off.”

“But it’s not a disaster?” Adi tilts his head further.

“Probably not.” When Adi only continues to stand and look, he heaves another sigh. “I mixed up the dates for two assignments and submitted the wrong one today, meaning I missed the actual deadline for the other. But he’s just giving me that time as an extension, because apparently I’m a good student. Can you fucking believe that?”

Adi’s lips finally quirk, his amusement returning at Sander’s incredulous, exasperated exclamation. “No, I can’t, actually. But then again you’re kinda art obsessed, so maybe.”

This time Sander blows out a breath that can’t really be considered a sigh, with the farting noise that accidentally accompanies it. He wipes a hand over his mouth as if it will erase the sound while Adi barks a laugh.

“So you’re just pissed because your brain did you dirty,” Adi summarises.

Sander grimaces, but nods. “And wondering how it’s taken this long for me to fuck up like that.”

“Maybe because you’re not a fuck-up.” Adi raises a brow pointedly, but Sander simply waves him off. The sentiment is kind, but it doesn’t change the fact that he fucked up. Then Adi adds, “And anyone can get their wires crossed like that. You’re not that unique.”

It draws a snort out of Sander against his will. It doesn’t matter that he knows what Adi is really trying to say, hears the reassurance and reminder tucked within the words; the blatant dry tone it comes out in startles him enough to set it off. Adi’s forming grin doesn’t match it and makes it easier for Sander to see through him, but he’ll let him away with it this once.

He knocks his paint can against Adi’s shoulder. “Thanks.” It’s much more clearly genuine than Adi had been, and more than Sander expected himself to give, but he does feel better and he appreciates it. It doesn’t matter that ‘thanks’ is as difficult as ‘sorry’; that just means Adi will know he means it.

Sander is sure of it when Adi simply nods in response, turning to examine Sander’s artwork rather than put pressure on him to figure out his expression. He watches on as Sander gets back to work, and eventually shifts to lean back against the wall. “Things are good with Robbe, then?”

“Yeah, always.” Sander smiles, unbidden, at the simple mention. He doesn’t feel the need to be embarrassed about it, even when Adi huffs.

“It’s your birthday tomorrow,” he notes, and Sander pauses. “Any special plans?”

Sander stays still for a moment, and then shrugs, putting his arm into motion again. He hasn’t thought about it. He might have been avoiding thinking about it. “Unless it’s a surprise. I know I’ll see Robbe, but that’s it. I do that everyday.”

“You not hanging out with all of them? What about Gilles and his gang, and Lucas and whoever?”

Sander’s mouth twitches, but he quickly schools it away. “I’ll see the guys at uni and maybe Lucas if we go to the flat or I pick Robbe up at school.”

He can just see Adi in his peripheral, and catches his thoughtful nod and careful bite of the lip. “Right, right. You ever planning on bringing him here again?”

“Robbe?” Sander asks, just to be a little shit.

“Fuck, no. I love him, I do, but he’s hardly an artist. Nah, Lucas.”

Sander brings Lucas at least twice a month, and Adi knows it. “They’re all busy with school. Final year and all that.”

“Yeah, but he’s applying to the Academy right? So, technically, this is like studying.”

“Do you want to see Lucas again, Adi?” Sander asks, mustering as much mock-astonishment into his tone as he can.

He receives a scoff for his efforts. “You know it’s not like that, you fucking asshole.”

“Good, because you know, he has a boyfriend, Adi.”

“Who happens to be Robbe’s best friend and your kind-of friend, yeah, yeah, I know. I also happen to be straight, dickhead.” He cocks his head at Sander and his lips slip into a smirk. “While you also have a boyfriend, and you’re whipped as hell for him, and yet look who you still came running to to kiss your boo-boos.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Sander says this time, tossing the now-empty spray can at him. Adi dodges with a startled noise followed by his low, booming laughter, and Sander just shakes his head and marvels at his quiet mind.

~^~

previous/next

[defilerwyrm]

⭐️ Bei Mir Bist Du Schön

FIC SPOILERS AHEAD!

Bei Mir Bist Du Schön on AO3

He opened his mouth to thank Essek but what came out instead was, “Deine Augen sind wunderschön.”

Essek stared at him, perfectly neutral save for the subtle rise of stark white eyebrows. “I don’t speak Zemnian,” he said, flashing his customary, placid little smile.

This is early Essek, well before c2e097, so this is a fully calculated move. That stare is him running simulations in his head, as it were, weighing his options, and he finally decides that he can learn more about Caleb if the guy thinks he doesn’t understand these little asides.

And boy did he ever just learn something juicy.

The second time, he was feeling petulant. Essek was normally a very patient and talented teacher, but there came a time when they butted heads over the best way to work a spell: Essek’s experience and Caleb’s contradicted each other, and neither was willing to admit that he was wrong because they weren’t. Caleb couldn’t have said why they were getting spirited over it. It was unlike them to lock horns this way, and the condescension chafed fiercely.

To my understanding, Wildemount never—at least post-Calamity—had a continent-spanning culture like the Roman Empire that would standardize learning across regions, and the Empire and Dynasty have utterly lacked in cultural exchange pretty much throughout their histories; so I reason that their approach to magic must be very damn different right down to the fundamentals. But, I also reason, magic is like math, in that there’s more than one way to come to a given conclusion—so the same spell cast by an Imperial mage might use different theory and somatic/verbal components with the same results.

I love fic that plays homage to cultural differences, so I figured that there must surely come a point where Caleb and Essek quibble about how to do a thing, with the crux being that they’re both right.

In a fit of pique, he muttered, “Du hast Glück, dass du abartig schön bist, denn du bist so ein Arsch.”

Essek’s head whipped up so fast that, for a moment, Caleb thought maybe he understood after all—but Essek just squinted at him without recognition and said, “I beg your pardon?”

Essek’s poker face is doing triple duty here because Caleb just said he’s hot af but also a dick, and this isn’t a sentiment Essek hasn’t heard before, but it hasn’t really gotten under his skin like it does this time.

Caleb passed a hand over his face and scratched at the beard he desperately needed to shave off. “Nothing,” he lied, “just annoyed with myself. This should be a moment of discovery, now that we know this can go either way. A door has unlocked and we’re both pulling it shut. Can we start again?”

The slip, and Essek’s reaction to it, made Caleb realize that they were both being dillweeds about the whole thing and it wasn’t going to move them forward at all.

It was—of course, of fucking course the intonation mattered. “A tonal shift,” he breathed. He took Essek by the lapels of his robe and shook him gently, and blurted out, “Ich könnte dein Gehirn küssen und dann deinen Mund.”

“What the hell is going on,” Nott squeaked at the same time as Essek chuckled almost nervously, “Caleb, I don’t—”

Hot boi damn near let the cat out of the bag right here. It’s certainly not that he specifically did not want to be smooched at all, but more that 1) Nott was RIGHT THERE so it would be mortifying, 2) he’s still very D: about physical contact and this point, and 3) he’s still very privately going “fuck fuck fuck WHY a HUMAN” about his own attraction to Caleb. There is very much a part of him that Wants That, but the rest of him is just not coping with it at all just yet.

The following morning, though, all he could think about was Dein Bett wäre besser and Essek’s careful fingers touching his face.

Both of them are fully mortified with themselves. They’re ridiculous. I see Caleb heading back to the Xhorhaus with shoulders bunched up, brow furrowed, and wide eyes glued to his own feet as his brain screams “DEIN BETT WÄRE BESSER” at him, mockingly, over and over. Slipping up and confessing your attraction to your crush is relatably horrifying (gods, I’ve been there, it’s awful) and Caleb is predisposed to beat himself up to begin with. Add in the rest of the party making a big deal over the fact that he spent the night over at Essek’s towers and you’ve got an abject storm in that little ginger head of his.

It did not help matters that no matter how much he insisted that nothing happened, the Mighty Nein were dead set on believing that he’d slept with his mentor, and they spent the next three days teasing him about it, none of them aware that he was simultaneously tormenting himself.

Okay so I try to be good and not talk shit about my own work these days, but that sentence just landed in a belly flop for me. I’m not sure it actually gets across what I’d meant, which was that Caleb was beating himself up for a different reason than what they all thought.

In the midst of a messy ambush by three of the wolf-cat eye-beasts, one of them managed to get the drop on Caleb, and it pinned him, screaming, to the ground. Its claws dug fiery punctures into either side of his chest. He thrashed, trying to get both hands up to cast, but it would be too late—his reflexes weren’t good enough. His body had never been nearly as sharp as his mind, and he was about to pay the price in the form of massive, dagger-like fangs lunging towards his throat. He screamed again, chest nearly frozen with fear, when—

Adventurers are generally made of tough stock, but I really wanted to dig into the POV of someone who’s being attacked by a terrifying cerature intent on ripping them apart. “You take 12 piercing damage and are knocked prone” is mechanical and dry; I wanted to show the full in-character implications of those mechanics.

Another fic that represents game mechanics narratively to absolutely stunning affect is Hard Mouth by road_rhythm, which I cannot recommend highly enough. I wrote Bei Mir before Hard Mouth started posting but had it been the other way around, it 100% would have been an inspiration in that regard.

He could not help but murmur, “Götter, ich bins so verschossen in dich.”

Fun fact: I got myself the book Talking Dirty German specifically for writing Caleb dialogue, and it really came in handy here. This idiom is from that book, as did abartig schön. The literal translation is “Gods, I am so shot into you,” which coming to think of it sounds a wee bit dirty but is figuratively very sappy.

Speaking of sappy….

“Das Gefühl ist Gegenseitig,” came the warm and sleepy reply.

Part of this is Essek being barely-conscious, but the bulk of it is this—and this is basically giving away the whole way the fic progresses: pretending not to know Zemnian began as a manipulation tactic to get intel, then became a game of “Let’s see how long it takes you to figure this out, smart boy” as their bond grew and Essek stopped deliberately trying to throw Caleb off, and finally when they were a couple he figured it would be cruel and pointless to keep up the ruse, especially since he’d been growing to appreciate pet names in their mother tongues.

Caleb took a deep breath, set his tea aside, and launched himself at Essek, who yelped, laughing, and danced out of his grasp. Essek led him on a merry chase around the kitchen and held out as long as he could before crying mercy at Caleb’s vicious tickling.

You know, I probably shouldn’t point this out in case my readers hadn’t cottoned onto it yet either, but it wasn’t until like a week after publishing this that I stopped and thought, “WTF happened to Essek’s teacup? Did he take the time to set it down? Did it get dropped and shatter? Did he show off and levitate it?? Did he bring it with him and get tea all over the place and himself?!” Smh…. Choose your own explanation, I guess, lmao.

The rolls were a little burnt that morning, but Caleb had no regrets.

Part of me feels like this is kind of a weak ending, but I justify it to myself by remembering how hard Caleb regretted his slip-ups over the course of the fic. He spends a good bit of copy beating himself up over them, so ultimately I think it fits, even if it kinda lacks punch.

[none-of-your-biscuits]

Chloeka head canons because we really be dying over at Cap's

-Chloe asks Juleka to help dye her hair in a fit of rebellion and this is how their friendship starts (don't ask me what color I'll cry)

-Juleka teaches Chloe how to ride a motorcycle and drive a boat, Chloe hates it at first but then it's really fun

-Juleka snatches chloes sunglasses and puts them on her head to do her patented Chloe Impression™ but Chloe is too gay to be offended

-meanwhile Chloe snatches juleka's jackets

Chloe: *shows up to school wearing a big black jacket*

The class: *confuzzled*

-Chloe lets Juleka do her makeup and then regrets it's slightly because now she's face to face with Juleka and she's just having gay panic

-juleka's hair is so soft and Chloe often asks if she can braid it, one time she started putting little braids in juleka's hair when they were sitting together on some class trip without noticing and several people are just staring and it's the funniest unless you're Chloe who now has to try and explain herself

-I know I say this with every Juleka ship but

-h e i g h t d i f f r e n c e

-sabrina and rose are aware of their best friend's crushes on each other and actively try to set them up

-okay sad time

-Juleka sees how audrey treats Chloe and just wants to throw her into the seine

-Anarka does throw her into the seine it's very satisfying to watch

-Juleka has a panic attack and Chloe talks her down from it like she used to do for sabrina and adrien

-juleka and chloe spill their parental trauma to each other after juleka has a nightmare

-Chloe can and will beat the shit out of juleka's dad if she ever meets him

-Chloe is moderately jealous of rose because she gets to be publicly affectionate with juleka

-(don't worry after they are publicly together Chloe hangs onto juleka like a koala, pda queen)

-after they do get together (probably by some sappy shenanigans) they walk into school holding hands and everyone is shocked meanwhile adrien, sabrina and rose are like: y'all didn't know??

-Chloe and rose have an actual cuddle with juleka schedule because neither of them were willing to back down

-Chloe brings juleka soup when she's sick and juleka brings Chloe flowers and they just vibe

-(juleka will drink her soup directly out of the can, cold. Chloe is absolutely horrified)

-anarka meets audrey once and throws her into the seine, queen.

-luka and rose give Chloe a shovel talk while adrien fails miserably at trying to shovel talk juleka, but sabrina is scary

- “Remember that time you had Sabrina lock me in the bathrooms and I turned into a Cotten Candy Clown—“

-class power couple

-Chloe starts wearing heels more because "damn it why are you so tall", juleka takes this as a challenge and shows Chloe her ultimate move of being able to run in heels

-okay but queen bee being the one to give juleka the tiger miraculous and the team immediately knowing it's juleka because qb started flirting with her

-Chloe gets really sleepy in winter because, bee, and takes lots of naps on juleka

-qb getting injured really bad and everyone finding out juleka is really scary when she's literally trying to claw someone's face off and succeeding

-*remembers streaked with purple au but makes it chloeka* oh no

-Chloe going to kitty section concerts please-

-the couffaine family has a communal dart board they all put pictures of people they hate on, it currently contains: Roger Raincomprix, Bob Roth, Audrey

-juleka just thinks chloes eyes are really pretty okay, no this is not too much staring it's not enough staring

-Anarka just being, so excited because, look her girl got a girlfriend, look at my daughter

-Luka and Chloe get along really well actually

-Juleka and Mayor Burgeois get along pretty well actually, chloe's dad is pretty cool

-soft flirting

And because both me and cap are self indulgent I give you

Chloeka: Pathera Noire style (bonus: spoilers)

-Chloe having a crush on juleka and then developing a crush on pathera: oh fuck

-if you've read it, remember that body pillow scene? Yeah

-we semi-saw adrien get his ladybug body pillow so I assume Chloe got her pathera one

-pathera helping Chloe be a better person as queen bee

-Juleka accidentally slips into her pathera persona a little bit and oops Chloe is dead on the floor

Pathera knowingly points to pathera body pillow: what's that

Chloe: oh guess I'll die

-alya, being saved by ladybug: *waves to chloe who's being saved by pathera*

-hardcore flirting

-Chloe finds out pathera purrs and melts

-marichat balcony scenes but it's chloeka

This is all I've got but feel free to add

Tags for people who helped a bunch:

@justanotherpersonsuniverse @k41z3

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Sick Little Games: Forty

“You gonna be okay for a second?” Clint asked anxiously, handing you a mug of tea and setting a cookie on your desk.

“Babe,” you tell him laughing softly, “I’m fine. Nothing is gonna happen in my office... I don’t even think Bucky knows where it is.”

The Archer frowned and looked towards the door. He knew he could have someone come stay with you. Thor, Bruce, Nat, Even Steve, they all had decided to stick near you when Clint couldn’t be nearby in case you had some kind of trouble. “You call me the second-”

“Clint,” you say softly, kissing him, “We’ll be okay long enough for you to beat up some rookies... Hit them extra for me.”

Clint smiles a little and wraps his arms around you gently, “I promise I’ll hit them extra. Are you sure-”

“We’ll be fine,” you tell him, “Strange made a mess of shit while I’ve been gone... The archive is horrendous. I should probably get stuff fixed.”

“Don’t work too hard,” he says, rubbing your sides gently.

“I don’t plan on it,” you snort, “But doing this at least gives me something to do besides sit and look pretty.”

“But you’re so good at it,” he teases.

You roll your eyes and shove him gently, “Go on,” you tell him, “go work out all your pent up aggression.”

“What aggression?” he asked, “The aggression you fucked out of me this morning, that aggression?” He grins and tickles your side, tightening his grip on you gently to keep you from getting away, “Baby, how could I be angry at anything when I got everything I ever wanted? Got me a nice house, a smokin’ hotwife, and a baby on the way.” He rests his hand on the swell of your stomach, and kisses your nose, chuckling when you start tearing up. “Stop it,” he teases, scolding gently. “So sappy,” he tuts, wiping tears away gently, “That’s not even my best work.”

“Shut up, Dummy,” you sigh, laughing softly as you stand on your toes to kiss him.

Neither of you turns when the office door bursts open, too intent on getting just a little further before he has to go. Nat doesn’t even flinch, she just sighs, “Barton, she’s already pregnant, let’s go we got rookies waiting.”

“But I gotta keep up my streak!” He protested, grumbling as he put his shirt back on. 

“Oh my god,” Natasha groaned, “It isn’t like Snapchat!”

“What’s Snapchat?” he asked, blowing you a kiss as he walked out behind her.

“Oh my god!”

You giggle and turn back to your desk, settling into your chair with a sigh. You aren’t entirely sure how Clint thought the two of you were gonna do what he was promising in this room but, you’d been willing to let him try. The ache that he started between your thighs was still there. And uncomfortable. It made getting back to work difficult.

So you don’t immediately notice someone standing in the doorway, looming awkwardly. At least not until a shadow falls over the book you’re looking at. “No, I don’t do love spells,” you say, not looking up, bored of a conversation that hadn’t happened yet.

“That’s a shame, Doll,” Bucky said softly.

You jerk your head up and push back from the desk quickly, fist clenching. Bucky can feel energy crackling, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“Easy,” Bucky said, holding his hands up. “Y/N, I just wanna talk. I wanna apologize.”

“Back up,” you growl.

Bucky doesn’t argue. You might be pregnant, and it might be a little hard for you to get on your feet from your desk chair, but you’re still dangerous. You see him as a threat, and you can and will protect yourself. And your kid. And he knows it. “Easy,” he said softly, holding his hands up, palm out. “Didn’t come down here to fight, Y/N. I don’t wanna hurt you. Or the baby. Really don’t want you going into labor right now- I just- I just wanna talk.”

The growl you give him is almost subvocal and makes him shiver. “I swear,” he said softly, “Y/N I- I was- am the worst fucking person. I’m sorry. I took out decades of pain and fear and rage on you because I thought you’d had it easy.”

You don’t sit down. Or take your eyes off of him. But he’s still breathing so he keeps talking. 

“I used you. And hurt you. And tried to ruin your life. I called you a murderer...You. I mean. I wouldn’t forgive me. I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just... I wanted to tell you I was sorry. For what it’s worth. I’m sorry and I- ’m happy for you. You and Clint are gonna have a beautiful baby.”

He doesn’t say that he wishes it was his kid. Or that he loves you. Because that doesn’t matter right now. That might ring a little hollow, given the circumstances. When you lower your hands, Bucky exhales slowly. “Is it a boy or a girl?” Bucky asked, sitting slowly in a chair. He knows he didn’t ask, but at the same time, he just doesn’t want to leave yet. 

“A girl,” you answer, cradling your stomach. 

Bucky smiles a little, trying to hide that his heartaches. He wanted this. A family. Girls waiting for him at home. A slew of girls.

“How’d Barton take that news?” Bucky asked. 

“He asked if we could name her after Nat. And bought her a pink teddy bear suit for when it’s cold... I think he took it fine.” You smile a little, remembering how soft he’d been, and Bucky looks away. You don’t look that way, thinking of him, and he knows it. You don’t have good memories of him. And it bothers him. 

“Are you gonna name her after Nat?” he asked, exhaling slowly.

“I don’t see how we couldn’t,” you snort, “She was so excited when we asked if she minded.”

For a long moment, you don’t say anything, and neither does Bucky. Until he does. Because he needs to know. 

“Y/N?” he asked, “Can I- can I ask you something?”

“I reserve the right not to answer,” you tell him, still guarded.

“That’s fair,” he said exhaling slowly. “I- did you ever. With our baby-” He doesn’t get the chance to finish that question. You cut him off with an impetuous gesture and an icy look. 

“No,” you say calmly.

Bucky shuts his mouth so fast his teeth clack together in his head.

“Whatever you want to know about that, no. You lost any right to talk to me about that when you aired out dirty laundry in a courtroom.”

“That’s fair,” he said wincing, “I just- I just wanted to know.”

“You don’t get to,” you sigh, “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want it to be over.”

Bucky doesn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not before Thor barged into the room, his expression stormy. “My Lady,” he says gruffly, not looking at Bucky.

“Thor,” you say quickly, aware that the God will absolutely remove Bucky, as painfully as he can get away with if you’re distressed by him. And oddly, as angry as you still are at him, you don’t want that. You want him to eat. Just not at your table. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “Bucky was just leaving.”

Thor nodded, stepping into the tiny office, glowering at Bucky as he folded his arms. Clearly intent on staying until the other man left. Bucky took the hint and slid out of the room, shutting the door. He supposed he deserved it. In fact, he knew he did. But, that didn’t mean that being treated like he was going to hurt you felt good. 

Still. He left feeling lighter. You’d spoken to him at least. And you hadn’t killed him. It was a start. 

__________

Thor stepped closer to you, reaching out to steady you on your feet as you reach up to put a book away. “Are you alright, witchling?”

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, kissing his cheek while you’re already on your toes.

“And your little one?” he asked smiling a little.

“I think they’re getting a little cramped,” you say, rubbing your stomach ruefully, “she’s not stopped all day.”

Thor smiled, “May I?” he asked, hesitating before touching you. 

You nod, smiling fondly and he lays a hand on your stomach, grinning. “She’ll inherit your powers,” he said nodding. 

“She may,” you allow, “My mother and grandmother neither one inherited them.”

“She will,” he said smugly, “I can feel it.”

“If you’re wrong I’m gonna laugh,” you warn.

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take,” he said smiling, kissing your cheek and then bending and kissing your stomach gently, saying a little prayer for both of you. He didn’t know what Bucky had said to you but he didn’t trust him where you were concerned. And he didn’t trust your judgment. Not right now, or ever if you thought you could help someone. 

He just hoped that before long Clint would be able to take you home. Before Bucky had time to plan.

[angryhausfrau-writes]

I Travel Troubled Oceans: Chapter 9 - In Which Charles, Anne, and Mary Hang Out

Charles flops down next to Anne on the sofa, right on top of the blanket she's trying to pull out of its artsy drape and into something that will actually cover her. It's pouring rain outside, which explains why Charles is home instead of out working on his tan – but it don't explain why he's bothering her.

“Fuck do you want, Charles?”

Charles ignores Anne's snarling with the ease of long familiarity. “We haven't hung out in a while.” He shrugs. “Thought it might be nice.”

Anne scoffs. “Jack kick you out, then?”

Charles laughs. “He's reading on the shitter-”

“So we'll see him sometime tomorrow, then,” Anne interrupts.

Charles grins. “I'll follow him a lot of places, but that's not one of 'em.”

Anne laughs and moves her legs so Charles can sit down without breaking her legs. And they sit in silence for a while, neither of them being all that inclined towards talking.

But eventually Anne breaks it to say, “Used to be him, following you around like a puppy. It bother you it ain't like that no more?”

Anne's blunt as always. But it's probably the reason her and Charles get along so well – neither of them one to mince words.

Charles shrugs. “This is Jack's world. Max's world. I wouldn't know the first thing about navigating it.”

But Jack's always been sharp. Been able to read people. To plot the course through troubled waters and come out the other side victorious, teeth bared and bloody from the fight.

So no, Charles doesn't mind following a man like that.

Anne nods in understanding. “It ain't a world I know much about either. But I don't mind it as much as I thought I would.”

That's a bit of an understatement, if she's being honest. She's not Charles, she hadn't lived in rat infested leaky shitholes out of some sense of strength or pride. She'd done it cuz she'd had no choice.

And now that she's got the choice of being inside, nice and dry and warm, instead of out on a corner somewhere, pushing. Well, she's willing to fight to keep it. Even if she's gotta go through every rich fuckhead in London.

Although she's looking forward to a little action, if she's being honest. They've been gathering intel on various upper-class creeps for a while now. And Anne knows that they're playing the long game, here. And that Max is more interested in blackmail and leverage than any immediate material benefit. But Anne's itching to knife someone – or at least lift a wallet or two. She wouldn't want to get rusty.

“Things have been a little slow, though, lately, ain't they?”

Charles looks consideringly at her for a long minute.

“You want to go out?”

It's not an ideal day for it, given it's pissing rain. But Charles has a list of a few lower-level bureaucrats in the Councilor's office he's allowed to intimidate. And, thanks to his own tireless efforts collecting gossip, a whole list of ways to keep them in line. Some of which don't even have anything to do with threatening their lives, which is novel.

Anne shrugs. “Beats sitting around here.”

A pause.

“Think Mary'd want to come?”

Which from Anne is as good as an admission that she wants Mary along. That she likes spending time with her and wants to do it as much as possible And that is as good a confession of sappy love-like feelings as Anne is going to make.

So Charles, as a good friend, says, “Doesn't hurt to ask. She can't be busy with Jack's social media shit all the time.”

Jack emerges from the bathroom to a silent and empty house. Which is unusual – there's enough people living there that there's always someone around, even if it's one of the housekeepers and not the people who actually live there. And Charles has a penchant for loud music with lots of pounding basslines, so it's never really quiet when he's around.

But, as Jack wanders through empty room after empty room, it's becoming apparent that he's by himself in the house for once. And if that's the case, then it doesn't hurt to indulge in a little “me time,” now does it?

Jack makes a beeline for Anne's bathroom – the one with the nicest bathtub, even though she hardly uses it. And he lights some candles and puts on some soft music and lets the tub fill with hot water and lavender scented foam. And Jack may even pour himself a glass of wine, even though it's barely past noon. But he's a man of leisure now, and surely that allows for the occasional bout of day drinking.

He relaxes into the warm bath, his head cushioned on a folded towel, closes his eyes and breathes out all the stress and anxiety and worry about succeeding that he's been holding since this whole venture started.

Eme drives them all to the posh councilor's office downtown. One of those real bullshit steel and glass monstrosities that are meant to make you feel like some kinda insignificant piece of shit out on the sidewalk. But Charles has never been one to be plagued by self-doubt.

They strut into the towering, ostentatious and austere lobby. No appointment. No credentials. Just sheer chutzpah. Mary feels a little out of place, next to Charles and Anne. But she's also really looking forward to Charles Vane and Anne Bonny putting the fear of God into some of the sick fucks she's been putting files together on.

There's one guy in particular she'd – well, she wouldn't mind too much if Anne or Charles actually killed him. Preferably gruesomely.

But Charles isn't looking so much like a killer right now as he flirts with lobby security. Or at least Mary thinks it's flirting? It's vaguely menacing but there seems to be quite a lot of sensuality going on for it to be entirely threatening. Just lots of intense eye-contact and smoldering happening.

But whatever the fuck all that was works and the handsome Spanish security guard lets them through the little turnstyle barricade and Charles saunters towards the elevators, with Anne and then Mary following.

Charles grins and he can see in the mirrored door of the elevator that it's more of a snarl. He hadn't been lying to Anne when he'd said he didn't mind Jack leading them. But it feels good to be on the hunt again, with a crew – a crew he trusts - at his back. An adversary in front of him (or behind him, at this point, though Charles can also see the way the security guard's eyes stay on him, piercing) who understands who they both are – who sees and recognizes who Charles is, just as Charles recognizes him.

And then the elevator doors open to deposit a blonde woman in a skirt suit and Charles, Anne, and Mary disappear into the heart of the building, rocketing towards the thirty-eighth floor and the man they've come to threaten. It's too late to stop them. Too late to raise the alarm. Too late to do anything about their presence but wish them happy hunting.

It's not that Jack doesn't like running the crew. He'd been gunning for that position since before Charles ran away. Not to replace Charles, you understand, but to be on equal footing with him. To be seen by him, respected by him as an equal.

And then Charles had gone away for that two-stretch and there had been something of a power vacuum. One which Jack was all too ready and able to exploit. He'd been running Charles's former crew within a month and just sort of kept on running it even after Charles got out of prison.

Because he'd done a good job of running the crew. It's not boasting, it's just fact.

But then the whole Flint versus Eleanor debacle had happened. And now there's another power vacuum to fill – an even larger one, what with one of the richest men in London's extensive crime empire and one of the best street-level bosses out of the game. And Jack would be an idiot not to exploit that fact, even without Max and Mr. Scott there to convince him into it.

But it's so different to what he's done before, to what he knows.

He agrees with Max's end goal, of course. Integrating themselves into the existing power structure so thoroughly that they can get away with all the crimes the ruling class gets away with by dint of their name or lineage or wealth. And maybe make some of those fuckers pay their due along the way.

But that doesn't make it easy, leaving behind everything he's ever known for this scam. And it's even more difficult to know if he's plotting the right course. If he's doing right by his crew, who are his responsibility now.

The books never really prepare you for the harsh realities of leadership and glory and renown. Probably because the people writing them don't actually give half a shit about the people who got them there.

Like Flint, who both reviled and needed his crew and fell short of his goals because he underestimated them.

Like Eleanor, who refused to listen to anyone about anything and it cost her everything.

Jack refuses to be like either of them. Refuses to fall the way they did. If he's going to fail, it's going to be as Jack Rackham – and no one else.

Feeling much better after his strange, reverse-psychology internal monologue, Jack gets out of the bath to dry off and perhaps luxuriate in a robe on one of his many tasteful divans. Because really, there's no point in pretending to be a rich gay drama queen if he can't have an excessive number of divans in his home.

Unfortunately, his plans are ruined by the return of Charles, Anne, and Mary, back from- wherever they were. Probably up to no good, if the rather bloodthirsty smiles they're sporting is any indication. But Charles knows better than to cross Max – and Anne wouldn't unless there was a very, very good reason. And they come bearing take away. So it's probably nothing to worry about.

Everything's going to be fine.

Probably.

[aspiratixxn]

Hey Dollface

Summary: The best surprise after a really long, hard day at work. 

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 3086

Notes: For @bucky-smiles​ since they’ve had some hard times lately! It’s me, your Bucky anon haha. I just wanted to be really soft and writing Bucky for you really inspired me! I hope you like it :) 

Tagging: @holy-captain​

It’s a shit day. It’s a really, really shit day.

It all started with a burnt pancake, on Monday of all days. Pancakes are a Monday tradition you picked up from your mom, who always made them sprinkled with different fruits to give you a pick-me-up (because Mondays you know?). And you had never burned a pancake, not even the one you made alone at the tender age of seven.

You’re not the superstitious type, not really, but a burnt pancake spelled out trouble and you knew it. You were quick to toss the thing but not quick enough for the smoke detector. Its shrill shriek pierced the morning calm and you heard a clattering through the thin walls of your (mediocre on a good day) apartment. And you had winced when someone banged on your door, asking if you were okay. Of course, you had to answer them, meekly peeking from behind the door. Although they had taken it gracefully, it had already put a damper on your day, which really only got worse from there.

Cleaning the pancake and clearing the smoke detector debacle took up your morning, which meant you didn’t have breakfast. At all. Not even a grab and go banana. Instead, you went sprinting down and out, nearly running over your two floors down neighbor’s dog and getting a shouted earful about that. And of course it was drizzling, enough that an umbrella wasn’t going to keep you from getting uncomfortably damp. Your sneakers squish as you walk in the building, your co-workers wincing when they see you. Your best friend Wanda fusses over you for just a moment, trying to pat moisture out of your shirt.

“Really (Name), you’re such a mess today. I mean more than usual. Did someone get some,” She glances in both directions and whispers in your ear, “Action last night?”

You sputter, pushing her away gently. “Why would you think that?!” He’s not even home right now so it’s not like you could anyways.

She just giggles. “I’m kidding, kidding! Here.” You take the towel and try to dry your hair. You hate this because now you’re going to look like a puffball. “I made some of my famous soup today! For you and me and Natasha, so you’ll be warmed up before you know it.”

You heave a great sigh and drape yourself over her lap. “Oh Wanda, my love, what would I do without you?”

“Starve? Maybe suffer a soupless life?” You gasp, flinging your arm over your eyes. She just laughs again and pats you on the head before she sneaks back to her desk. You’re grateful she’s willing to suffer the wrath of the boss, who pushes productivity to the max.

You take a pause to check your phone before you move and light up when you see (1) message from Bucky.

BUCKY: Good morning beautiful BUCKY: Just wanted to remind you that you are the bestest, most awesome person in the world and you’re gonna rock your day!

You work a classic office job, the kind in weird half cubicles where the walls are too short to hide anything from anyone. Before you even start working you have to clear away all the sticky notes and remnants from last Friday when you had dragged yourself home after some overtime. When your workspace is adequately cleaned (or at least cleaned enough you aren’t knocking over things when you shift), you get to answering your emails.

Which of course, leads to another bad thing. The client was infuriated with the current status of the project. In his eyes, it should have been done a week and a half ago, when you know full well that this project isn’t going to be done for another week if not two. It’s an intense request that just takes time and you’re already doing your best, putting in the overtime to try and reach his ridiculous goals. Heinrich Zemo really needs someone to knock him down a peg and you might just be the person to do it if you ever meet him in person.

So begins the back and forth emailing between you two, filled to the brim with polite fuck you’s. And since he seems to zing back mail at the speed of light, you can’t even work on anything else you’re supposed to, like the design blueprints for Natasha or the business plan outline for Sam. And they’re shooting you little looks because they kind of need that stuff for the next steps of their own projects. Sympathetic looks but looks just the same. And it makes you burn with frustration because you want to get it done, you want to be productive but you just. Can’t.

In between your phone keeps pinging with messages from Bucky, which is the only reason why you survive this entire frustrating situation.

BUCKY: i love your fashion sense. It’s so chic and sleek and ugh, so perfect for you

BUCKY: can’t wait to dance with you again darling! Hope you’re ready to try some tango this time ;)

BUCKY: do you want s’mores pie or banana cream? i’m thinking s’mores because y’know, chocolate. marshmallows. what’s not to love?

BUCKY: next date at the flower garden? we can have a picnic!

BUCKY: holy shit I am so ready for blueberry season again. I know it’s a while away but ugh, I really want some right now :(

BUCKY: you got this babe! I believe in you!

BUCKY: do you want to get Chinese or Italian when I see you again? I’m feeling a strong Chinese vibe. YOU: Chinese BUCKY: that’s my girl

The morning is a blur of pent up anger that ends with you squishing the ever loving shit out of a pumpkin plush, a desk leftover from Halloween. You’re half surprised the thing doesn’t pop under the pressure but you feel bad, placing it back down and patting it. Finally Zemo shuts up and you’re left with fifteen minutes before lunch, which really isn’t time to start anything for work. Instead, you bring out your white bound planner, a bullet journal you’ve been steadily working on, and start to build the next month. End of the month means needing to prep all the pages for February, and you sigh as you stare lovingly at your collection of pens just for this. They’re all absolutely lovely, shades that you adore and a quality that can’t be beat. You mill briefly, deciding between a pastel and a hard pink. The pastel wins out of course and you smooth out the page, already covered in neat pen lines from last night. You begin to fill in banners and hearts and…

Just your goddamn luck your pen starts to fizzle out. Which really sucks because these puppies are not cheap in the slightest. You growl and thunk your head on the desk, making Sam snicker.

“Not your day?”

“Not now Wilson.”

“Aw, c’mon. I’m pretty sure there’s something good in your horoscope for today.” He’s teasing you now for sure. He’s not even into horoscopes, not even as a joke. You turn your head enough to give him your darkest stink eye, which just makes him grin wider. He pats your shoulder and slides over some chocolates, dark like you like it. You huff and your hands come up to open the blue foil, fumbling a bit before popping it in your mouth.

Your phone pings and you glance at it with dull eyes. Sam can visibly see them getting their spark back though and he can guess who’s messaged.

(1) message from Bucky

BUCKY: hey sweetheart, just wanted to tell you that you’re my favorite girl and it’s lunch time! I made myself a sandwich today, look! BUCKY: (1 photo attached)

YOU: why’s it so full? it’s practically bursting! YOU: if you take a bite you’re gonna spill everything out of the bread

BUCKY: hey! rude! >:( BUCKY: I’ll have you know I am a sandwich expert and it will not spill everywhere

YOU: sure it won’t babe ;)

BUCKY: >:T

“(Name)!!” Wanda comes bursting back in, holding up a thermos for you to see. It does brighten up your day, especially when Natasha pops up right after with a box of sandwiches from the best deli on the block. She even got you extra fries. God your friends are so good.

At least lunch passes without any scruples. You don’t spill any of Wanda’s spicy and absolutely delicious soup and you don’t drip any mayo on your blouse from the sandwich. There’s a close call with some ketchup for the fries but it lands next to your leg instead of on it.

“Absolutely not. How dare you even assume Eliza has a chance?” Natasha jabs a fry in your direction.

“Well it’s better than Martha! Did you see her bedroom eyes at him? And he just straight up ignored her!” Wanda throws her hands up in frustration. “Honestly, does this guy even like any of the contestants? It’s like he has the stiffest face in the world.”

You shrug, thoughtfully munching for a moment. “I just think Eliza’s nice y’know? She’s sweet and she’s not pushy, which I mean. It’s probably not great for ratings but Nick hasn’t eliminated her yet so that has to count for something right?”

“Nuh-uh! Angelica’s a favorite here. Did you see how he was laughing on their fake date? I can tell flirting when I see it. And she’s a real firecracker type, which means she’s definitely there to spice up his life if you know what I mean~” Natasha wiggles her eyebrows and you snort, nearly choking on your ice tea.

“Y’all are crazy! It’s definitely gotta be Delanie! Cute, small, hips fit real well.” Sam runs his hands in the same, also wiggling his eyebrows. “And did you see how he was watching her when she was talking about her family? How she wanted a cute little wedding like her parents? That’s a catch.”

You sigh and put your head in your hands. “It’s so artificial though. Like I know all this is scripted and framed and stuff so like, what does it matter? I’d want something real.”

“You sound really dreamy there (name). Got some embarrassing sappy things you want to say to us?” Wanda has her face pressed up to yours and you blush, pushing her away again. Wanda’s really dangerous like that, able to sniff out feelings and stories just like that.

“No! Shut your smug little faces.” All three have taken on that look that you know oh so well. You shovel another few fries in your face and then shut the empty container. Around a mouthful of the dry potatoes, you mumble, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some outlines and blueprints to work on.”

How is this day not already over? Honestly it feels like it’s been an eternity.

Your phone pings with a message. Steve, inviting you to a Monday movie night. Since movies are cheap as hell, Steve likes to visit the theaters often and see what the new thing is. Not surprising given his theatrical/acting/film study obsession.

STEVE: Movie night?

YOU: what movie?

STEVE: Cats (2019) STEVE: I know, I know I just really want to see it. It’s so interesting, the CGI work!

YOU: i dont really want to pay money to see that though YOU: like its YOU: so weird YOU: and like not YOU: i dunno i just don’t really want to see it

STEVE: :( STEVE: C’mon, it’ll be fun! We’ll get caramel corn.

YOU: ooooh tempting me YOU: but no i think imma go home and like wine night it YOU: its been a long day :/

STEVE: Ouch. Well it’s the same place as usual, 6 PM if you wanna come.

YOU: probs not but thanks anyways

STEVE: :)

You plug in your headphones and scroll through your music, settling for some chilled out tunes to slowly progress through the dense documents you have to read before you can properly plan out Sam’s thing. It sucks because you can already feel a headache starting to bud and you have to stop periodically to press on your eyes. You also frequently get up to get water, which means you’re also going to the bathroom a lot and today’s productivity has just slam dunked down the drain. To compensate for not doing literally any work in the morning (gee, thanks Zemo), you put in some overtime hours, which means you’re definitely movie night. You don’t even leave the office until your eyes are burning with the strain of staring at a screen for seven or so hours. You stumble out and rub your eyes, yawning and stretching, trying to get some of the tension out of your shoulders.

(1) message from Bucky

BUCKY: have you been at work this whole time? Damn girl BUCKY: the grind never stops💪

YOU: i wish it did YOU: ugh i’m so tired :(

BUCKY: well you’re almost home right? BUCKY: im sure there’s something good waiting for you at home BUCKY: like dinner! what are you thinking today?

You don’t even know what you’re going to do for dinner, but you’ll deal with that when you get home. At worst you have some cheap instant noodle thing that you can spice up with some eggs. It’s still dreary out and it feels like rain in your skin so you almost sprint home, sticking to the well-lit areas because you are not in the mood to punch a mugger in the nose.

You stop by the corner store though and buy yourself two bottles of wine. You buy something that’s nice, indulging a little. Or you try to anyways, when you discover you left your ID at home. You groan in frustration and instead grab some peach-mango juice and a bag of BBQ chips, hovering momentarily over the big blocks of cheese. You really could just use one to bite into, but you refrain, knowing you have shredded cheese at home, and you can just eat that with a spoon.

Trudging up the stairs, you nearly kick the dog again because it comes shooting around the corner of the stairs. As it is, you end up swerving and kicking the wall which makes you drop your grocery goods and you just.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You gather the groceries in your arms again and make it finally to your apartment, nearly staggering into the door. You fumble with the keys, missing the lock a few times before jamming it in and twisting. You’re ready to collapse on the couch and chug your juice straight from the gallon container but you don’t because when you lift your eyes up from the ground, you’re met with the bestest, sweetest, slightly crooked smile in the world.

“Bucky!” You drop everything and full body launch yourself at him, nearly tipping him over. Whatever he says about being strong and sturdy, you’re a force to be reckoned with and you snuggle your face up against his neck, breathing in the pine needle and wood smoke scent he has. “I thought you weren’t going to be back for another week!”

“Decided to surprise you doll face.” He peppers your cheeks with kisses, and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you. His lips are so warm against your chilled skin and you try your best to catch them against yours.

He hefts you up a bit so you’re almost sitting on his hip. He bends down to get the fallen chips and you squeal, tightening your hold on his neck. He fakes a choking sound and you loosen a little, feeling him smile against your cheeks.

“You’re so prickly.” Your fingers run along his jawline that’s covered in stubble.

You can feel his laugh, from his chest where you’re pressed. “Sorry pumpkin, I didn’t have a lot of time between there and here.” He stands back up again and you shriek again, burying your face at the sudden moment. “Sounds like you’re still full of energy though.”

“Noooo. I’m really tired Bucky, I had a hard day at work. I’ve had a hard day all dayyyyy.” You turn with a pout, which makes him kiss your puffed cheeks. His eyes sparkle with mirth and you feel like the entire day has completely melted away.

He carries you to the couch, depositing you in front of some of your favorite Chinese take-out. The smell alone makes you wanna drool and you lean forward to take a big, deep breath. “You are a god send.” He waives it out with another full belly laugh, handing you a pair of chopsticks. He got your favorite dumplings and sour-spicy soup and of course, shrimp lo mien. You practically inhale the food. “It’s so good babe, oh my god. I have been revived from the dead.” He flicks on the TV, finding some movie marathon. It sounds like Harry Potter but you’re way to invested in the food in front of you.

It makes you feel so overwhelmingly warm to have him home again after being away for so long. Soon enough, the empty cartons are abandoned on the table and you’re curled up against his side, exhaustion seeping into your warm, full body. Bucky’s got his arm around you, gently playing with the hair that curls by your neck. He’s telling a story, something about how he had found an adorable kitten at work who had clung to his shoulder all day.  His voice runs over you like honey tea, so warm and comforting. You have his other hand in your own hands, tracing the scars that lace over his knuckles and across his palm. Everyone your fingers cover, you follow with kisses.

“I love you.” You yawn in the middle, but he just leans over to kiss your forehead, simultaneously pulling over the blanket from the edge of the couch towards you. It’s your favorite blanket, and it definitely wasn’t on the couch this morning. God he’s so sweet.

“I love you too (name).” He gives you another forehead kiss and begins to play with your hair, which you almost purr at. This is it, this is peak comfort. You grip his shirt tightly, slightly worried this is just some fever dream you’re having at being so tired. “Tell me about your day. Don’t leave out a single detail!”

“Mm, well it started with a burnt pancake…”

[spiltscribbles]

Hamilton Friends AU  |  The One With The Engagement

Notes: Okay so this is so late, I beam the craziness f this summer. But a huge Thank you to the ever lovely @aswithasunbeamwho prompted me this perfect Friends episode to write in a Hamilton AU. You’re an amazing soul and I hope you enjoy<3<3

.-

“Your face looks weird.”

“Rude.”

“Just an observation,” Angelica, as appraising and blunt as ever, chides at Alexander with a probing finger to his cheek. In turn alexander just scowls her way and sticks out his tongue for good measure.

“She is correct my friend,” Lafayette, currently trying to balance a fifth book on his head after proclaiming that yes, in fact he is as graceful as any of those fucking Disney princesses, tacks on. “As if your face has gone all goopy permanently.”

“It’s like you’re staring at Eliza even though she’s not here,” Hercules clarifies with a shrug.

“You’re all awful people and I don’t know why I’ve ever agreed to be your friend.” Alexander huffs.

“We’ve gone and made him all sour,” Peggy snorts and Laurens begins to mimic his peeved off expression in-between his own cackles.

“Awful!” Alexander reiterates. “Awful, awful people.”

“Answer the question at hand loser,” Peggy charges on, standing up from the sofa and swinging her weight to her left hip, defiant. “Why do you look so eerily unbothered, so, un-Hamilton like. For Pete’s sake even when you’re happy you look like there’s a hundred different things that are annoying the fuck outta you.”

“Harsh.”

“Accurate.”

“Fine,” Alexander twists his lips in annoyance of getting caught out. “If I tell you lot you better swear on everything you own that you won’t breathe a word.”

“Mysterious,” Laurens leers.

“It is Burr, he has died a most awful death! This is the source of your happiness, no?” Lafayette accuses.

“Ah, erm…. Not quite yet?”

“Well get on with it then,” Angelica scolds with no real heat. “Some of us have actual lives to get too.”

“”Drag race is on tonight and me and Ange have got a bet going.” Peggy explains.

“Which I will win,” Angelica sniffs.

“Fine, fine,” Alexander harrumphs, long acquainted with the larger than life personalities of all the Schuyler sisters, his heart contracting and stomach swooping once thinking of one in particular. Of her long, dark hair, and impossibly bright eyes, and the way her smile makes it feel like Alexander’s floating in midair. 

Eliza.

She’s quite literally the most beautiful, brilliant, strong willed and even stronger hearted woman he’s ever known. She’s everything Alexander wishes he was and nothing but wonderful. He knows that, is positive, even if he concedes that she in fact is not an angel sent from the heavens above. Eliza’s not perfect just because Alexander swears she is. He knows that she is a bit of a clean freak, that she can get neurotic if plans aren’t followed through exactly as she had laid out. He knows that she was brought up oblivious to her insane level of wealth and that sometimes it takes full blown arguments for her to speak her mind instead of trying to spare him or anyone else of their feelings. Alexander knows all these small quirks and he doesn’t care because they only make him love her all the more. He loves Eliza more than the sun and stars and all the galaxies above combined, he loves her so much that somedays Alexander thinks his chest might crack with it. 

But it never does, and she’s always there, and what they have is everything Alexander has ever wanted, and Eliza is someone who he never thought he could have. All this to say that he has absolutely no doubts in his mind when he pulls out the small velvet box from his trouser’s pocket and opens it to reveal the sparkling engagement ring he’s spent months saving up for.

“wholly fuck,” Peggy balks, scurrying closer to snatch it out of Alexander’s grasp, Angelica right on her coattails.

“No way!” Laurens crowed the same time Lafayette let out a strange, indecipherable squeal that Alexander is almost positive was only partially in French, partially in English and  then a hodgepodge of other languages he’s never even heard before— all the books cascading down to the wooden floors  in a crescendo of thuds.

 For his part, Hercules just begins to tear up with a stiff lip and quivering hands. “Get the hell outta here.”

“You guys don’t like it,” Alexander asks with a shit eating grin.

“Don’t be cheeky dork,” Angelica reproves, never taking her eyes off the ring, swatting at Peggy to give her a chance to hold it.

“Don’t speak that way to your future brother-in-law,” Laurens snickers, claps Alexander on the back with an encouraging hug. “I’m so proud of you Ham, you’ve finally found the one.” 

Alexander gives his oldest friend— the man he once thought would’ve been his forever if they hadn’t had such contradictory views on what that meant— a watery smile. “thank you Laurens, but don’t get too excited, Betsey’s still gotta say yes.”

“She’s crazy about you,” Peggy says airily, waving off his worries with a lazy hand. “Of course she’s gonna say yes.”

Alexander bites down on a smile, casts his gaze to the floor so to hide his reddening cheeks. He’s still in such disbelief that this is his life. He’s got the world’s greatest friends, an amazing job that he actually enjoys, and now he might actually get to keep the dream girl. So far away from the lonesome days and hard nights of St Croix. Far away from dying mothers and flighty fathers and cruel brothers who never bothered to keep in touch. This, right here, these people, Eliza, the Washingtons, hell even Burr on a good day… They’re his family, the people he’d die for and who he’s sure would die for him too. What a strange feeling that is, to love and be loved. How strange it is that he gets to keep this sense of belonging, of balance.

“God, now enough with the sappiness,” Peggy gripes. “I can see it on your face Hamilton, and just because you’re technically my brother now doesn’t mean I won’t beat your ass if I feel like it.”

“Charming,” Alexander deadpans.

“I thought so,” Peggy says with a magnanimous grin.

“So what’s the plan? How are you gonna pop the question?” Hercules interjects from where he’s now examining the rose gold band and round cut diamond accented with sapphires. 

“I was planning to take her to that really posh French restaurant near fifth avenue that Laf showed us. Bets loves hearing me speak French,” he explains with a wink.

“My people’s language does arouse a certain, how do you say, sultry emotion.” Lafayette leers.

“For the love of God stop talking about having sex with my baby sister.”

“Right, ahem.” Alexander concedes. “Well after that I was gonna order us a bottle of her   favorite, ridiculously priced champaign.”

“We use to drink it when we’d summer in our villa in the South of France,” Peggy explains, totally impervious to how fantastical that sounds to Alexander.

“Friends with too many rich people,” Hercules mutters morosely, handing the ring off to Lafayette, face scrunched up in displeasure all the while.

“Do not hate us for our good fortunes mon grand,” Lafayette sniffs. “Especially now that Alexander is considered part of our lot after he and Eliza’s inevitable union. One that is written in the stars mind you.”

“What’s written in the stars?”

Alexander’s heart stutters to a rapid staccato just as soon as he sees the door to the apartment swing open, revealing a disheveled, but radiant Eliza strolling through, one perfectly manicured brow kinked. 

Before Alexander can take a breath, Lafayette impulsively stuck the ring— the symbol of his undying love and eternal devotion to Eliza— into his fucking French, snail eating mouth.

“Gross,” he hisses, to which Lafayette just tossed him the bird.

“Ah, the fact that Thundermist is totally beating Vivian October tonight,” Peggy blurts out in a totally high pitched voice. Jesus fucking Christ half of them work in politics and the other half are lawyers, save for Hercules whom’s perfectly content as the head of Ralph Lauren merchandize. But still, Alexander expected that they’d all be better at lying than this pathetic display!

He’s subsequently shown up the moment Eliza flickers her gaze towards him, a knowing smile blooming across her face that makes Alexander’s heart ache with want. He supposes it’s more the person who they’re all lying to rather than the act itself. 

“You and Ange need to stop making everything a competition love, it’s teetering on ridiculous.” She toots, tosses her and Alexander’s mail to the counter before excepting the peck he can’t help but offer her.

“You know how daddy is with his horses,” Angelica argues. “It’s in our blood.”

That just makes Eliza role her eyes, totally fond, before she excuses herself to change out of her pencil skirt and red bottom heals.

“Hey is there paint on your top?” Laurens asks, brows furrowed.

“Oh yeah,” Eliza blushes. “The kids had arts and crafts today at the orphanage and wanted me to help out so I just set all the paperwork to be done tomorrow instead.”

“THat’s my top!” Angelica squawks, affronted.

“It’ll come out,” Eliza shoos her off with a lofty tip to her head.

Once she’s shut the door on her to change, Alexander cuffs Lafayette on the back, hard. 

“This is the love you show me after I successfully kept your little romantic gesture a secret,” he harrumphs.

“Now I’ve got your French cooties all over it!” Alexander hisses.

“Many a men and women would have died to get my delightful French saliva within a ten mile radius of them.”

“We really need to talk about your ego one of these days,” Peggy snorts.

“I have Adrien as my wife and you lot are blunders in love, I shall not permit any judgment from any of you.”

“Hey, I’ll be joining you in that marital bliss soon enough,” Alexander contends, totally giddy smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

“Gross,” the remainder chorus in varying degrees of exasperation, dosed  in pride.

.-

Alexander’s really never had the best luck, most especially when it was the romantic sort. Before Eliza he’s never had a relationship that lasted over six consecutive months, or one that he didn’t constantly feel as if he had to garnish a facade of brilliance and magnetism that he’s never truly felt he had any right to own. Before Eliza Alexander never was able to picture himself settling into the domestic sphere quite so willingly. Never thought he would’ve yearned for quiet Sunday mornings in bed where Eliza’s head was propped up on his chest, and the early morning light would cascade atop her cheekbones and lips and glimmer in her hair. Those mornings where all Alexander could focus on was counting the quiet breaths she would let out and plotting out all the ways he could always make her look so at peace and lovely. Alexander never thought he would ever want the house in the suburbs with a large yard and rose gardens and everything his mother had tried to give him when she was still here. Alexander never had wanted it until Eliza came and he realized he could have it with her.

He remembers one particularly pitiful night towards the end of L2 when he had just cut ties with Cornelia Lotts because he had woken up that morning and had just not found her as interesting as the night before, which obviously meant he had drunken himself silly at some sleazy bar and tried picking up someone knew, just for the fun of it. Instead he was met by Angelica’s expectant,  irritated glower once he was three drinks in, telling him on no uncertain terms that the reason his love life sucked so hard is because he always went for the obscenely wealthy and tragically pretty folks that always infested ivy league institutions. The same folks with too large egos and too little self worth to ever consider having an actual relationship with someone outside of their social circle— A circle that the Schuyler family were the crown jewels of is what Angelica didn’t have to say but Alexander heard in screaming clarity all the same.

“Fuck you.”

“You wish loser.”

That was when she tugged him by the ear to get out of the city with her for the long weekend to clear his head. When he slept in her family’s country home upstate. When he had stumbled downstairs in the middle of the night to be face to face—for the first time— with the sister he’s seen millions of pictures of and heard even more stories about  by a beaming Angelica. The one who had just spent the year after graduating Yale in the peace corps. That was when Alexander’s heart had first swelled and he was a goner.

“Eliza.”

“Yes love,” Eliza smiles up at him through her lashes now, so many years detached from their first meeting. Years composed of unrequited crushes and tentative laughs that morphed into a strong friendship and shy words of sincerity. Eventually leading them to first kisses and first nights and all the in-betweens Alexander’s never gone through with any other relationship. Nothing else felt as vital, as permanent, as the one he shares with Eliza. Nothing else felt like it deserved his efforts in quite the same ways that he’s always known Eliza has. Nothing else has made him experience this distinct sort of want.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she giggles, mouth partially hidden from the lip of the flute of champaign she’s nursing. “Is everything alright deer? You look a little pale.”

Alexander’s throat closes up and he rinses his hands with anticipation.

“Yeah, yes. Everything’s Perfect Bets, it’s been perfect for a while now… Honestly ever since you agreed to actually go out with me. You. You make things perfect.”

Eliza doesn’t answer him in so many words, just cups her hands around hiss face and kisses him nice and thorough. Alexander wonders if how she makes everything inside of him go golden with every press to the lips will ever fade.

He seriously doubts it.

“Now, let me get this out, okay?” Alexander begs, squeezing her hands with his own and kissing the tops of each of her fingers gingerly. 

“Oh, Andre.”

Alexander’s heart stills and the breath from his lungs escapes— It feels like something awful and freezing has just clutched his heart and rinsed it dry.

“No, Alex—- I’m Alex.”

That only makes Eliza role her eyes at him before nudging her head to where a ridiculously handsome, obviously well off man stands.

“Oh, yes…. erm that is Andre.”

“Maybe he won’t see us,” Eliza offers before he’s lead directly to the recently vacated spot besides them by a completely oblivious host.

“Maybe he’s blind now?” Alexander says hopefully.

“Lizzy Schuyler is that you?” 

Alexander curses every ounce of bad luck he’s somehow accumulated before standing up to exchange awkward pleasantries  and spending the remainder of the night refraining himself from knocking Andre/s lights out every time he stares a tad bit too longingly towards Eliza for his liking.

The pampered bastard.

.-

Still inwardly fuming while drinking his morning coffee, Alexander was accosted by someone cuffing him on the back of the head, hard.

He isn’t surprised to turn around and Find a surly looking Angelica glaring at him, hands on her hips and mouth curled in a distinctly predatory fashion.

“What happened last night Hamilton?”

“How do you know something happened?” 

“Well when I gushed to look at Liza’s hand this morning, instead of a rock on her finger she just looked at me like I was insane! I had to pretend I wanted to read her palm.”

“So confirming the insanity suspicion then?” He asks owlishly.

“Hamilton!” She says in a hiss.

“I couldn’t do it, okay.” Alexander snaps back, waspish.

“You chickened out,” Angelica accuses, depositing herself on the sofa besides him in the small cafe and snatching the muffin from his hand.

“No.”

“Then what? You changed your mind? My baby sister not good enough for you?” She needles, prickly as he’s ever seen her.

“Don’t be ridiculous Anne.”

“Then wh—“

“Andre showed up,” he blurts with absolutely no tact.

“No fucking way,” Angelica gapes, dropping the aforementioned muffin.

“I’m cursed aren’t I?”

“Kinda,” Angelica consoles with a pout, cradling his head on her shoulder.

“Ah oh, not a good sign.” Hercules observes once taking a seat with his own latte.

“Hamilton’s cursed,” Angelica informs him, matter-of-fact.

“Why this time?”

“Because Eliza’s fucking perfect ex-fiancé somehow showed up last night with his own date and sat there besides us looking all handsome and waxing all poetic and reminiscing about how he and Eliza were caught fucking in her childhood bedroom her sophomore year of college and making her laugh and I couldn’t get a damn word in edgewise!”

“Oh not the thanksgiving story,” Angelica winces.

“So I reckon you didn’t propose?”

“I was gonna do it tonight instead, but thanks to Mis babble mouth over here,” he elbow checks Angelica. “Eliza most definitely suspects something is up now.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that you apparently committed some sort of horrendous crime in a past life.”

“Who asks to look at someone’s hands!” Alexander hurls.

“People who think their sister was just proposed to!” Angelica defends.

“It’s fine you guys, we’ve just gotta throw her off the trail a little. Make her think marriage’s the furthest thing from your mind.” Hercules placates. 

“Yeah, yeah Herc, you’re right.” Alexander nods, is thrown to alert the moment the cafe’s bells chime— indicating a new customer— and it’s Eliza’s soft timbre that rings in his ears.

“I swear, I don’t care what Laf says, French people are total weirdos.” She sheds off her jacket and assumes the seat in Alexander’s all too willing lap. “I walk into his place to pick up some papers I left there and the first thing he wants to see is my hand to see if it’s proportionate to his.” With a huff, she grabs the coffee mug from Alexander, face scrunching up adorably at the excessive amount of sugar he always mixes in. Totally oblivious to how his heart is pulsing and his face is infused a bright red.

“Oh— Hah, how weird,” Angelica titters awkwardly. 

“Why do you sound so strange Ange?”

“No she doesn’t,” Alexander quickly pipes in.

“Yes…. She does.” Her brows furrow, the smallest dent between her eyes telling Alexander that she’s suspecting something. “What’s going on?”

“We were just reading this article in the New Yorker is all,” Hercules explains, saving all their asses. “It’s making her worry about her relationship with Mr Big.”

“His name’s Church, stop comparing our lives to Sex In The City characters,” Angelica admonishes with no heat.

“Whatever Miranda.”

“So what’s this article that’s got you all frazzled Angelica?” Eliza asks worriedly.

“It’s about marriage,” Alexander answers instead, seeing his opportunity and plunging for it.

“Marriage?” 

“Yeah, just about how it’s a total scam. I mean think about it Bets, legally timing yourself to another person? Doesn’t that sound Orwellian to you? A ploy by the government just to get our money and to keep us in check if you ask me.”

Eliza’s frown somehow, impossibly, sinks deeper.

“That’s not what you think Alex, is it?”

“I mean, ah yeah—“ His voice most certainly does not screech like he was a character from Saved By The Bell. “I mean you know me Eliza. I mean marriage didn’t keep my dad around for my mom.”

He can’t believe he just used that card on her. He totally deserves to go to hell for that one.

“It doesn’t always have to end up like that hon.” She cards a hand through his hair, kisses his cheek gingerly. And yeah, eternal damnation here Alexander comes.

“Eliza like 60% of all marriages now days ends in divorce,” Angelica contends. “Can you even name a couple that hasn’t been separated at least once.”

“Our parents,” she sniffs.

“But is it worth taking that chance,” Alexander says, reminds himself of how happy she’ll be tonight after he pops the question, when Eliza shakes off the hand that’s trying to lace their fingers together.

“Yeah, Yeah Alex I do think it’s worth that chance! And you know I do!” She starts to get up now, properly mad. “I mean don’t you guys want to promise yourself to the person you love in front of all your nearest and dearest. Be bound to someone so intimately and permanently. To get to show off your love to the world to see!”

“Sounds kinda selfish to me,” Alexander counters and Hercules and Angelica mumble their agreements.

“Okay,I’m running late for work.” In a cloud of carefully concealed fury, found in the pinch of her shoulders and downturn of her lips, Eliza collects her bag and jacket before storming out. A quiet fury in total opposition to her sisters’ brash words and ear shattering shouts.

Alexander yet again reminds himself of her beaming face when she doesn’t dip down to give him the customary kiss goodbye. 

“This’s gonna workout just fine.”

.-

[cchellacat]

I Just Fucking Love You

Love All The Marvel Ships Challenge 

Day Four ~ On A Date

"C'mon Doll, we gotta run."  He held her hand, pulling her along as they bolted.  Darcy wasn't sure how she kept up, only knew that if they stopped, they were dead, so she forced herself to move.  She stifled the shriek she felt as he hoisted her into the air and up onto a metal platform.  She felt sick from running and took deep lungfuls of the cold night air, forcing the nausea down, then biting her lip till it almost bled.

It had all started out really well.  There had been flowers when he picked her up at the door, he had offered his arm and escorted her to the car.  They’d had dinner in a wonderful restaurant and she had been looking forward to the dancing all night, her feet tapping under the table until he’d caught her feet between his legs and started playing footsie, that part had been fun.

Things had went downhill on the way to dance club.  The sudden appearance of a red dot on his chest had her yelp as she tried to get him to move.

Bucky had been fast after that, getting them both out of sight line, that was when they’d noticed the van’s drawing up and the armed men being disgorged from the dark depths.

Then all they had done was run.   Up one street, down an alley, over a fence…  if she ever had to run for her life again she was wearing sneakers.  She’d lost both heels along the way and her stockings were torn and the soles of her feet ached.

Currently they were half way up a fire escape, waiting to see if their pursuers would give them up for lost.

He was holding her close, both his arms around her as they pressed deep into the shadows.  She could feel herself shaking, desperately trying to catch her breath from the near panic attack that was threatening.  If they got out of this alive she was never leaving the tower again without a security escort and a taser.  She could feel the cold seeping into her from where she stood on the metal grating.  One of his hands cradled the back of her neck, his thumb gently stroking behind her ear as she buried her face in his jumper.  The beat of her heart echoed loudly in her ears as she clenched her teeth tightly, willing the shaking and chattering to stop.

“Darcy…  They’re not gonna stop till they have me.  There’s too many of them, sweetheart.  I’m putting you in danger like this.”

His harsh whisper was full of apologetic agony.  What was he saying?

“No… no, don’t you dare…  what if they find me anyway?  You can’t just give yourself up.”  Her fists clenched in the soft wool as she hissed her denial.

“I’m sorry, Doll.  Now listen to me okay?”

“No…  you can’t…Bucky..”

“Please sweetheart, please just do what I say…  I couldn’t live with it if I got you killed, it would destroy me Darcy.”  He pled, pressing  kisses into the crown of her head.

“But….”

“Please, Darcy”

Darcy felt the tears welling in her eyes as she finally accepted what was happening.  No, no it was so unfair, why now?  Things were good, they were good.  They had clicked with each other right away.  As soon as they had met over a year ago, it had been as though her life suddenly just fitted into place, a place right beside him.  They’d only been dating officially for a few months, but it was really working between them.  He was so much better than he had been, he’d made so much progress after the shit he’s been through…  she rested her head on his chest and nodded reluctantly.

“Okay…  okay, what’s the plan?”  she breathed out as he relaxed a little in relief.

“I’m gonna lead them off, you stay here, you don’t move, don’t make a sound.  Stay as long as you can, then I want you to get back on the street and duck into the first store you find and call the emergency number.  Don’t give your name, just your security number and hang up.   Find the bathroom and wait for someone you know to pick you up, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good, now repeat it back, what are you gonna do?”

“Wait as long as I can, go back to the street, find the first shop, call the emergency number and give my security code and hang up.  Wait in the bathroom for someone I know to come get me.”

“Good girl, you’re gonna be fine.  I promise...”

“Bucky…  I…. “  her voice broke as she tried to say something, anything to him, anything but goodbye.

“I’m so sorry Doll, you have no idea…  Darcy… Sweetheart…  I…  Just stay safe alright? Follow the plan.”

“Promise me….  Promise me you won’t let them kill you.  You don’t go out there and get dead, do you hear me Bucky Barnes?  You come back to me.”  She choked out her words, tiny fists thumping against his chest.

He kissed her then, it was swift and hard and full of longing and begging forgiveness.  She kissed him back just as passionately, willing the kiss to gentle, to let him know she could forgive him anything so long as he came back to her.

His hands cradled her jaw gently as he broke the kiss, her lips, suddenly bare and empty of him, had her fingers digging into his wrists fiercely, unable to let him go.

“I love you, Darcy.”  His raw honesty stole her breath, left her unable to breath.  Before she could speak he let go of her, vaulting over the railing and landing hard in the alley below.

She stood there, mouth open, staring into the darkness as she listened to him draw their pursuers away.

No, no, no, no, just no.  He did not just do that to her.  She wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all.  How could he say that to her and leave?  She didn’t even say it back…  he was just gone.

Sitting on the fire escape till her feet were almost numb, thinking of his parting words had her by turns furious and overwhelmed with love.  He loved her.  He told her he loved her, and then he left her here, like some big damn hero in some sappy romance.  She would have said it back if he’d just waited a moment.  Because she did love him, loved him so much is made her heart hurt.  The worst part, the worst fucking part was she knew he meant it as goodbye…  because he hadn’t promised he’d come back.  He went out there thinking he wouldn’t be able to.  She wiped her eyes angrily on her sleeve, trying to stem the constant stream of tears.  Eventually she shimmied down the fire-escape and made her way to safety.  Within twenty minutes of calling in her number in, Clint had turned up to bring her back to the tower.  There was an escort and a military grade SUV to pick her up.

She’s still shaking when she reaches the Tower, she’s whisked off to medical and her feet are cleaned and wrapped and the cut on her heel needed stitches.  Other than that, and a mild case of shock, she’s fine.  Fine, she’s fine…  except she’s not fine, she’s so far from fine she’s crossed borders, she’s currently residing in the Republic of Freaking the Fuck Out.  No one will talk to her or tell her what’s going on.  Jane is tight lipped when she appears and tries to get Darcy to rest, but the thought of sleeping is so far out of the realms of possibility right now that it’s a joke.

She can’t get the last image of his eyes out of her mind, he was scared for her, not him, and he looked so damn sorry as he told her he loved her.   Darcy glares angrily at her hands where her nails are digging into her palms, sharp and hard and white in the beds.  She forces her hands to uncurl and hisses at the sting and the angry purple half moons left indented in her skin.

What if he didn’t come back?  What if this was it, the end, before they even got to start?

Eventually Darcy convinced Jane she couldn’t stay in bed, she was just too wired and stressed to sleep and they went to the common room.  The room was quiet, no Mario Kart on the big screen, no Tony and Steve bickering at the island in the kitchen, no Sam and Clint making wise cracks and sniping each other with popcorn.  They were all out looking for Bucky.

Jane finally fell asleep just before the sun started to rise.  Darcy got up and found a blanket to put over her friend before moving about the room, straightening pillows, and throws, then over to the open plan kitchen to empty the dishwasher.  There were half empty cups strewn on the counter and two plates sat with a meal untouched.  All indications of the abrupt scramble that must have took place when Darcy called in.  It was as though life had just been put on pause, a reminder that although she wanted nothing more than to go back to that moment and say something, she couldn’t.  She busied herself with all the small chores as the sun’s light continued to fill the room.  The counter tops were gleaming when she was done, she was putting away the cloth when the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Darcy spun round to see who was there and nearly fell over in relief.  She flew across the room as he staggered out of the lift.  He was mess.  His face was bruised, his shirt torn in places and there was blood everywhere.  He caught her when she launched herself into his arms, her name ripped out of him in a choked sob.

She whispered his name over and over again as he rocked her against him. So thankful that he was here, alive.

A sudden fury filled her when she realised he wasn’t about to keel over and die and she stepped back from him.

The crack of her palm against his cheek echoed violently through the room. She was wide-eyed and gaping at her own action.  He didn't look shocked at what she had done though, just resigned.

“What the hell did you do that for?  You can’t just tell me you love me and then leave me!  That is not how this works.  You don’t just confess your love and run off to die.”

At her words he relaxes a fraction, as though he were almost happy to hear her chastisement.

“Darcy, babydoll…”

It's his placating, voice, the one he tries to use when she's worked herself up into a into an apoplexy.  Usually she's happy to let him cajole her into a better mood but right now she wants to shout and scream and stamp her foot is she feels like it.  He owes her that at least, after what he put her through.

“Don’t you Babydoll me James Barnes, you are going to stand there and listen.”

“Darcy, I’m sorry…”  she cuts him off, she's going to say her piece no matter how sorry or sincere he is.

“No.. uhuh…  You are unbelievable, you know that?  I asked you to promise me you’d come back and instead you say those words like they were some sort of ending.  Like you weren’t coming back."  Her hands are waving in the air as she grasps to articulate herself  "You didn’t even wait for me to say anything, you just jumped.  Do you know how scared I was, how fucking terrified? "  She sucks in a breath, even as she feels more words bubbling up, but it's less angry now, accusation is winding through her tone.  "It felt like you were saying goodbye, Bucky, I thought you were dead.  You tore out my heart.  Don’t you get it?  How much you mean to me?"  Darcy squeezed her eyes shut and let out a involantary sob is frustration.  "I can’t breath, I can’t sleep, I can’t fucking live without you.  You got so far under my skin I can’t scrub you out.  There is no world for me without you in it, do you understand?  I love you, I love you….   I love you so much I don’t know who I am without you anymore… and you just left….  I love you, I want to hate you right now, but I just. Fucking. Love you.”  She stood panting, shuddering in the wake of the soul wringing words she had vomited out and then she burst into tears.

She felt the ground fall away as he lifted her into his arms and then they were on the couch as he settled her into his lap while she let all the fright and bottled up emotion of the last twelve hours wash away.  He didn’t say anything, just held her until she finally stopped, tiny hiccups escaping her as she lay against him.

“Better?”  he asked her quietly, his hand rubbing soothing circles into her skin just above her hip.

She nodded her head and blinked stupidly as he produced an immaculate handkerchief from somewhere for her to wipe her face with.

“I know it wasn’t the right time to say it for the first time, I... but…  I didn’t know what was going to happen Doll.  But I knew I couldn’t go, not without saying it at least once.  I’m sorry you thought it was goodbye, that’s not what I meant, but I couldn’t make a promise to you if I didn’t know I could keep it.”  He reached up and cupped her face, his palm pressing into the line of her jaw until she met his eyes.  “You gotta know…  Darcy, you changed everything for me.  Everything you just said, it’s the same for me.  You’re in me Darce, in my blood and bones, a part of my I don’t ever want to live without.  When we were out there last night, all I wanted was for you to be safe, I knew your best chance was without me.  I love you sweetheart, I love you so much that if anything happened to you… if you died…  I’d be right behind you babydoll, cause you’re all the good that’s left in my world.  I can’t promise not to do it again, not if it means keeping you safe.  I can promise that I’ll fight for you, to come back to you.  I can promise I’ll never stop loving you.  I can promise that as long as I live there will never be a time when I won’t do everything in my power to make you happy. Because darling, I just fucking love you too.”  He looked as wrecked as she felt, his voice strong and adamant in his declaration.

His words echo in her mind and she felt such a swell and rush of emotion she thought she might burst into tears again.  Instead she pressed her lips to his.  It wasn’t like before, there was no desperation in this kiss, it just was.  It was slow and steady, their lips telling a story to each other, making silent promises, finding peace.  She felt the knowledge of what they were settle into her soul, it was clarity and a profound sense of rightness, as though where once she had thought she was whole, she found that wholeness to now be complete.  They come through something life changing, something that realigned the world for them both.  It was a paradigm shift.  The kiss drew out, and she moaned softly as he pulled back, resting his head to hers, their eyes holding each other, unable to look away.

Darcy sniffed and nodded as he stroked her cheek, wiping away the last of her tears.

“Okay… Can we go home now?”  She felt exhausted, all she wanted was her bed and Bucky.  Her eyes were drooping as she tucked her head back into his neck, breathing in his scent.

“Anything you want Doll.”  She closed her eyes and melted into the sway as he stood, safe in his arms. She was only partially aware of the movement as he carried her, caught the murmur of voices as they passed through the hall and felt his chest rumble in response as he answered whoever was speaking.

She was floating in a sea of emotion as he helped her into bed, the panic when he left her side was abrupt, but he whispered her fear away and went to shower before finally joining her in bed.  When he did, he tangled himself around her and she could finally relax.  He loved her.  He really loved her and she almost didn’t want to sleep while she held those words in her head.

“Sleep Darcy. I’m right here, m’not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

She finally let sleep claim her, the last thought…  It hadn’t been the worst date she’d ever had, but it had had the best ending, a happy one.

NEXT

@captain-rogers-beard

[catsundercherryblossoms]

|Ch. 17: The Crystal| Her Forgotten Past// Attack on Titan fanfic

'So far, so good...' I thought as we walked through the streets of Stohess.

"Getting away was easier than I thought." Eren said, only to be hushed by Mikasa. "I was in the carriage the whole time, but they didn't check on me once."

"Stop looking around so much." Mikasa scolded, but Eren ignored her.

"It gives you a good idea of how seriously the Military Police takes their job... Now we just have to hope they don't find out that Jean is covering for me." He said.

I could only imagine how Jean must be feeling right now. We had assigned him the job of wearing a wig and posing as Eren for the MPs. The whole plan was for us to convince Annie to let us sneak Eren away from the MPs. We would need her Military Police privilege to get through the checkpoints in Stohess. It was all a ruse, though. The second we find that tunnel we'll detain her.

If her being the Female Titan turns out to be false, which I'm hoping it will, I don't think a million apologies would get us to be friends again. She'd probably feel hurt.

However, if it turns out to be true... And she really is the reason squad Levi and hundreds of other soldiers lost their lives on the expedition... then I don't know how I'll take it.

We walked in a tight group. Armin was doing a good job of leading Annie to the trap, telling her where to go and which turns to take. Anticipation started eating away at me. So many things could go wrong.

"I don't think it'll take long until they find out... I mean, Jean and I look nothing alike." Eren said lowly.

"Don't worry." I reassured him. "You both look like criminals and have a nasty look in your eyes."

"Look who's talking, Miss I-Have-An-Attitude-Problem. Besides, I don't have his horse face." Eren pouted.

"So... If I hadn't helped you, how were you planning to get past the wall?" Annie asked intriguingly.

Armin answered the question swiftly. "We were going to break through using our ODM gear."

"That's absurd... Wouldn't it have been a lot less trouble to escape before entering Stohess? Why here and now?" She asked and glanced at me. Annie was starting to suspect, I could tell.

"I thought the switch with the body double wouldn't work without terrain as complex as the city's." Our genius explained. "Acting obedient for a bit to wear down suspicions, then slipping away, seemed like it'd buy us more time than openly trying to run."

Annie seemed to understand. "Oh... All right, then."

'Thank you, Armin. We'd be dead without you...' I thought.

"Oh! Here it is!" Armin spotted the entrance to the underground shaft and hurried towards it. We followed after him.

"Here...?" Annie asked, caution lacing her voice. I stopped walking and turned to her.

"Yeah... straight through here." I said, faking innocence. Armin began telling interesting facts about how these were the ruins of the planned underground city, and how we have small chances of getting caught through here. I looked back up the staircase and saw that Annie was still at the top.

I raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem, Annie?"

"Don't tell me you're afraid of dark, narrow places?" Eren joked.

"I am. I'm scared. I doubt a brave, suicidal blockhead like you could ever understand the feelings of a feeble maiden like me." She took a step back.

'No...' I thought. 'We're losing her...'

"There's nothing feeble about a maiden who can flip a huge man 360 degrees in the air. Stop being stupid, we need to hurry!" Eren urged her.

"No. I'm not going." Annie said firmly. "We go above ground, or I won't help."

Silence.

Eren spun around and bared his teeth. "What the hell are you talking about? Hurry up and get down here! Stop messing around!" He raised his voice, aggravated by her attitude.

"Eren! Don't yell!" I reminded him.

"Why shouldn't he, Jo?" Annie's cold eyes moved to me. "I'm not sure why, but... for some strange reason, this whole street seems... deserted."

There were soldiers disguised as citizens hiding in the buildings, on rooftops, and behind walls. All waiting for the signal to attack.

She had caught on. It was official... she knew.

"Sheesh, Jo... That really hurts. When was it that you started... looking at me like that?" Annie asked in a sappy tone that was not her own whatsoever.

Armin held a sound flare behind his back, his shaky hand making it rattle softly. "Annie... Why did you have Marco's maneuver gear? He fixed even the smallest scratches and dents. I know, because I helped him do it."

"Oh... I just found it." She turned her head to the side carelessly, unwilling to face us.

"So, the two titan subjects. You killed them?"

"Maybe. But if you thought that a month ago... Why didn't you do anything back then?"

Armin's eyes widened. "Even now, I can't believe it. Maybe I made a mistake somewhere. I want to think I did. That's why—"

"Enough." I growled. I went up two steps and took off my hood. "No more guilt tripping. There's only one reason you won't come down here with us. It's because you are the female titan."

She stood there blankly. Guarded. I couldn't tell what she was feeling.

"How did you do it?" I asked. "Because I still can't wrap my head around it... how can a person kill so many people and still carry on with their life? Back in the forest, I tried to take you on and I failed. Well, guess what?" I ripped off my cloak, revealing my ODM gear. I wielded my sharp blades threateningly. "I've come to take care of unfinished business. I'll kill you for sure this time, female titan."

I expected her to get angry. To fight and maybe try one of her roundhouse kicks.

But never in a million years did I expect her to laugh. We all stared wide eyed at the cackling Annie at the top of the stairs. She laughed so hard she doubled over, her whole face turning red.

"What the fuck is so funny?!" I asked, anger flaring inside me.

"You know, Jo..." Annie said between breaths, as the wind swayed her pale blonde hair. "I'm glad that I was a good person to you. It looks like this whole gamble of yours payed off for now..." She suddenly looked maniacal. Annie lifted her finger to her mouth, white teeth about to pierce the flesh. "But... This is where my gamble begins!"

Armin raised his arm and shot the flare. BANG!

Soldiers disguised as citizens ran into the vicinity. Annie froze, taken by surprise, and before she could fight back or run, they were all on top of her, gagging her mouth so that she couldn't bite her hand and transform. She struggled against them.

For a moment there we had her. For a moment it seemed the plan was victorious.

Then—

She freed her hand from the herd of soldiers on her. Something glinted in the light. My eyes traveled to the ring on her finger, and the needle jutting out of it. That was just what she needed to transform. That was exactly what she needed to wreak havoc and possibly kill us all.

My heart jumped to my throat and I quickly reacted. I turned and ran down the stairs, pushing the others in. "We're too late!"

BOOM!

An explosion rocked me off my feet right as I entered the tunnel. I landed on the floor, my hands scraping against the jagged stone, and outside I could see lightning. Before I knew it Annie's Titan hand was reaching into the tunnel, trying to get ahold of us. Eren lifted me up and we all ran as fast as we could.

Shit, shit, shit... was all I could think. This whole operation is going to hell.

"What's next, Armin?" Mikasa asked.

"We meet up with Squad 3 and head above ground. Eren, you'll transform and fight Annie!" Armin said.

Eren nodded. He looked a little sick, I noted, but I payed no mind to it.

"There's squad 3!" Armin exclaimed

Ahead of us, four soldiers turned the corner. They waved at us. "Hey! Did the first capture attempt fail?"

"Yes!" Armin shouted. "Switch to plan B!"

In the blink of an eye, the tunnel gave a huge shudder and out of nowhere a gust of wind pushed us back. It didn't take long for us to realize a hole had been stomped through. The female titan raised her foot back up and all that was left was rubble and the massacred bodies of squad 3. I turned away, feeling nauseous.

"She's willing to let Eren die?" Mikasa said angrily.

"It's a bet." I said, panting. "She's betting that Eren won't be there when she steps. It's crazy, but it means she's harder to beat."

Just then, the female titan's large foot stomped through the other end of the tunnel. She would keep stomping and stomping until she reached us. We were trapped.

"Alright, get close. I'm going to transform." Eren declared. We all huddled around him. He raised his hand to his mouth and bit down. Blood squirted. I braced myself for the impact, the explosion, the strike of lightning, and the hot steam.

But nothing happened.

"No! Not now!" Eren yelled at himself, falling onto his knees. He kept biting his hand even harder, cursing himself through slurs of blood. The sight made my stomach churn. I didn't like seeing him like this.

"You can't turn into a Titan without a specific goal in mind." Armin told him. "Try again."

"I'm trying!" Eren said. He bit down again.

I sighed and crouched down next to him. "Admit it, Eren. You still won't believe Annie is the female titan. Why? Is it because it hurts you to think its someone we know personally? Someone we spent three years of our life next to? Well, I'm sorry but it's time to wake up. It hurts me too and I'm angry that she's turned out be this monster, but I'm also forced to realize that she killed Squad Levi! She tried to take you away! Countless soldiers never got to see home again because of her!"

I knew he heard what I was saying, but I wasn't sure he truly got the message. It's like he wanted to, but he was lacking the motive.

Thats when a theory popped into my head. My chest burned, and I was almost mad at myself for thinking such a thing, but I had to test the waters. "Or..." I raised both eyebrows. "Perhaps you have special feelings that are holding you back?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" He snapped.

"I have a plan!" Armin announced, interrupting our bickering. We both looked up at him. "Jo and I will go one way, and Mikasa will go the other. Whichever Annie doesn't choose is the one Eren uses to escape!" He said and unsheathed his blades. Mikasa and I did the same and we went different directions, not wasting any time.

"But that means you could die!" Eren yelled.

"If we stay here, all us will die!" I said.

This idea, however, was not very smart, we realized as soon as we left the tunnel. The minute we flew into the air on our gear, the female titan crashed her foot down in the exact spot where Eren was. The blood drained from my face. Oh, no...

"Eren!" Armin screamed, and he rushed towards the damage site. I trusted him to make sure Eren was alive.

But for now, I had unfinished business to take care of.

I went straight for the female titan, boiling with rage, and began an attack. It was human vs titan now. Like a bullet I cut through the air, avoiding her attempts to smash me or swat me into a building. A couple soldiers joined me and tried to help out, but whenever I would look back, they were already dead in a manner of seconds.

I dove down and sliced her ankles. Then her knees. Hopefully this would immobilize her. Two more soldiers joined in. She easily pulled the cables of their gear and they were catapulted into roofs, staining the shingles with their blood.

"Try that with me, bitch!" I screamed. "I dare you!" I ran down the street and quickly launched into the air again. For the most part it was a lot of back and forth. I would slice her up like deli meat and try to get to her weak spot, and she would regenerate before I had the chance to cause any real damage.

"What happened to us, Annie?" I yelled, slicing my way around her torso at breakneck speed. I left steaming, crimson incisions everywhere on her skin. "Did I mean nothing to you? All this time, was I just your entertainment?"

Annie turned and grazed her fist against the roofs of multiple buildings. Large chunks of cement rained down upon the street. This move took me by surprise and I struggled to dodge the debris. Just when I thought I was clear, a chunk of cement the size of a cannon ball struck me in mid air. I fell and tumbled onto the ground, every bone in my body aching with shocking pain. Thoughts swam without coherence in my brain and I couldn't think straight. For a long moment I was disoriented. My eyes opened only to close again as I laid there in the middle of the street, unable to move.

I felt someone pick me up and before I knew it, we were on a rooftop. I opened my eyes and the first face I saw was Jean's.

"Are you okay?" He asked worriedly.

"Yeah. I- I think I'm fine." I said and he lowered me from his arms, helping me stand on my own. My body ached significantly, but not to the point where I was seriously injured. If anything, I'm lucky that chunk of cement didn't crush me completely.

A roar pierced the heavens.

"Was that..." Hanji said, her words hanging in the air.

A chord struck within me. "Eren." I said and looked east where the smashed underground tunnel was.

And I was right. A raging, terrifying bull of a Titan came running down the street. It's green eyes glinted maliciously like emeralds under the sun. Every soldier in the vicinity halted their attacks on the female titan and hurried out of the way.

Eren pounced on her and that's how the bloodiest, most violent Titan fight I've ever witnessed (worse than the one in the forest) began.

He did it... He finally did it. The corner of my lips twitched, a smile full of awe wanting to show itself. But a cold dread came over me and I stopped. It was different this time. The way he smashed the female titan into the side of a chapel— the way he roared and his hair hung ferociously over his face— his whole demeanor was overbearing. Too much monster. And little sign of the human inside.

He struck his fist on Annie's face, the muscle on her cheek tearing off. Blood splattered everywhere. I flinched a little, then quickly regained myself. I didn't want to say I was scared, but... I was scared.

And everyone else, too.

A speck of blue in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked to my right and walking— no, stumbling up a street— was a little girl in a blue dress. She was covered in some blood, I noticed. But most importantly, I noticed she was right in the way of Eren and the female titan, who had started to chase each other again. I gasped. She was going to get crushed!

"What's wrong? Jo— Jo!"

I left Jean and the others behind, diving off the roof and jetting away on my gear. I pushed my gas to the max as both titan shifters got closer and closer to the little girl, who now struggled to run for her life. Sweat beaded my forehead. My heart pounded harder, faster, more frantic than ever—

"Gotcha!" I exclaimed, snatching the little girl up and into the air just in time. The Titan shifters practically grazed us as they bolted down the street. Thinking quick, I took another route. This little girl... whoever she was... should probably get to safety.

"Where are your parents?" I asked, searching for the water canal where all the citizens were being transferred onto boats. The wind whipped my hair into my face and I could just barely make out the gate and the soldiers in the distance.

"The ch-chapel..." She squeaked, clinging tightly to me. Her eyes were wide and bright blue, like God had bestowed her a slice of the sky in her young, yet petrified gaze. "Mommy... Daddy... they were c-crushed..."

I closed my eyes in dismay. The word 'orphan' echoed in my brain. I could almost cry along with her, but I maintained my composure. I had to be the strong one here. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Ava." She said against my shoulder, barely audible.

"You're going to be okay, Ava." I reassured her, "I promise."

I landed on a street full of soldiers and tried to hurry past them. There was an obvious commotion going on here. But I couldn't stop to watch now. Getting little Ava to safety was my first priority.

"Johanna!" A familiar voice called, making me stop in my tracks.

The majority of them were Military Police, and they all appeared to be in the middle of a confrontation with the only two Survey Corps soldiers, Commander Erwin and Corporal Levi.

The Corporal was the one who had called me. He narrowed his eyes, probably wondering why I was carrying a child and running away from battle in such an unsightly manner. "Are you injured?" He actually sounded concerned.

"No..." I said, out of breath. "I know our orders were to stay in the field of battle... But I found this little girl and I'm just trying to get her on an evacuee boat."

He watched me, considered the girl, and eventually nodded. There was an unusual sympathy in his gaze. "Alright. Hurry, the boats will be departing any second now."

He didn't need to tell me twice. I was already gone halfway through his sentence. By the time I reached the water canal, the soldiers were already boarding up the entrance to the boat, about to give the signal for it to depart.

"Wait! Stop, I've got one more!" I yelled.

Our luck was hardly believable, but we made it and they had room for just one more. I helped Ava get in, her tearful self almost reluctant to let me go. Poor thing. She was cold, her dress was tattered and streaked with blood, and she had nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

Just like I was as a child. Hell, she probably has it worse. What if she never finds a 'Jean' that is kind enough to take her in?

I took off my uniform jacket and draped it over her small shoulders. The boat operator and one of the soldiers exchanged signals. They were about to depart.

"Stay strong." I told her.

She nodded, holding back her tears, snuggling into the jacket as the boat took off. "Thank y-you for saving me, miss!" were her last words to me. I backed away and watched the boat go until it was completely out of sight. Sighing, I then turned and hurried back to the area of bloodshed where Eren and the female titan were sure to be.

"How's he holding up?" I asked Jean the second I got back.

"It's amazing. He's winning— look!"

Eren pinned down the female titan and they struggled for dominance. Well, more like Annie struggled. He caught her neck in a headlock and gouged out one of her eyes so violently that I had to look away. Their screeches filled the air.

Annie suddenly slipped from under him. Desperation and the will to get out alive possessed her. She was no longer trying to overpower him in any way. No. Fleeing was her only option now.

She made towards the wall and dug her fingers into the cement. We all watched in horror as she scaled up the side of the wall, inching closer and closer to the top. Eren clung to her leg, biting down, but even he couldn't stop her. She kicked him, half her leg getting bitten clean off as a result.

"No... no, no, no!" Armin yelled as we all rushed to get across. "She can't get away!"

Even Hanji was at her wits end. "Somebody— quick—"

"Leave it to me!" I shouted.

Anger, hurt, the sting of betrayal— all of these emotions welled up inside of me and they were hard to keep contained as I flew at the speed of light to Annie. She saw me and immediately knew what was coming.

You have the power...

I raised my blades and let out a war cry, spinning and shredding across her fingers. Each one fell off.

to crush your weaknesses.

I moved on to her left hand. She tried to grow armor as a last minute resort. Ha... as if that would help. Reigning in all my strength, I brought my blades down again and sliced through the coat of crystal armor, through her muscles, and through the bones in her fingers. Blood sprayed the air. I reveled in the victorious, steaming sensation of it.

It happened in slow motion. We made eye contact as she started to fall. I hovered over her, and if I looked close enough, I could see my own reflection in her onyx black pupils, dilating more and more out of fear. Since she was so deep in denial about her defeat, I would have to announce it for her.

"Annie... fall." I said, and it felt like a goodbye. Not just to her, but to everything we ever had together.

Every soldier on every rooftop and street stopped to watch as she hit the ground, the sound louder than thunder. Eren pounced on her like a savage animal, heaving and roaring uncontrollably, eager to finally capture its prey. He opened his mouth and his teeth sunk into the flesh hungrily, tearing a large chunk out of the nape.

This was it. We finally had her.

But wait...

"Eren?" I said curiously, arching a brow.

He stayed frozen, peering into her raw nape, obviously stunned by something we couldn't see. What could possibly be so disturbing that—

Suddenly, a bright light exploded from the nape. The ground shook like there was an earthquake. No one knew exactly what was happening, but what we did know, was that Eren's Titan body was merging with the female titan's, and he couldn't get out.

"What is that? What's going on?" Several people yelled.

Being the closest, I flew to Eren's neck and cut him out as quick as I could before the whole titan was merged. I held him tight, his body piping hot, and dropped to the ground. The blast of light ended, and when we all looked again, Annie— in the simplicity of her human form— was trapped inside a crystal.

Peaceful.

* * *

"Was this all for nothing?"

The clanks of the rickety elevator echoed all throughout the shaft as we descended down, down, down....

"For nothing? I believe this latest tragedy has moved us forward by leaps and bounds. Not long ago, we hadn't even imagined the possibility of humans turning into titans..."

When we finally reached the bottommost level, Hanji opened the sliding gate. I clenched my teeth. Stay calm, I mentally told myself, even though I felt like a bomb that could detonate any second. Hanji and Corporal Levi, who was also present, both shared looks of skepticism. They watched me calculatingly as I stepped out.

"Not only are we now aware of the enemy in our midst, but we have also captured one..."

Before me, in this cold and damp and depressing underground cave, was the reason most of Stohess was in ruins:

Annie.

"Make no mistake, there are more of them out there..."

It was a pain in the ass trying to get permission to come down here. The Commander is a hard man to convince. But I persisted anyways until he finally said yes. Nevertheless, here I was. And here she was, preserved in this self-made crystal. Suddenly I was clueless as to why I came here in the first place. No information will be obtained out of this visit. Its not like I can talk to her. None of us can.

Lets just say... I needed to see her again one last time. That's a good enough excuse for now.

"And we will hunt down every last one."

Those were the words Commander Erwin responded with when I was brave enough to pop the question that was on everyone's mind... "Was this all for nothing?". Whether I agreed with him or not, that was still undecided. Its a gamble. I’m not ready to say it was worth it until I see the final results. And we won't be seeing any results until we've reached the end of humanity's long fought battle against the titans. In the end, we either win or we go extinct.

I think I'll decide then.

But for now... I think I'm allowed to feel angry.

No, worse than that.

I'm allowed to feel hurt.

I approached Annie's crystal, walking closer and closer until finally, I stood face to face with her. She was so peaceful: eyes closed, frozen in a sliver of time, out of sync with the world, quiet, untouchable...

It was infuriating.

"Annie," I said, pressing a hand against the crystal. It's surface chilled my palm. "I hope you’re happy." A bitter taste flooded my mouth. Self-control was slowly slipping away. "Have fun in there while we pick up the pieces out here, yeah?" I chuckled dryly. My hand curled into a fist. "No, but seriously... I hope your happy!"

Something snapped. I brought my fist down on the crystal.

"Jo—"

Red was the color I saw. Boiling, flashing red. "You murderer!" Screaming, I punched the crystal repeatedly, the skin of my knuckles splitting open. I was unaware and at the same time very aware of the Corporal and Hanji telling me to calm down, but I didn't care. The mere sight of her stirred up a hatred inside of me that was impossible to tame. I screamed and kept pounding as hard as I could, "YOU COWARD! YOU FUCKING LIAR, COME OUT!"

"That’s it. Take her."

A pair of arms wrapped around my torso and I was lifted up and away. Kicking and screaming, I tried to get out of Corporal Levi's hold. My heart bled more than my crimson knuckles, more than anything. I just wanted answers.

"ANNIE, YOU BITCH! COME OUT AND FACE YOUR SINS!"

But my demands were met with silence. The only answer was the echo of my own voice.

Peaceful.

End of Chapter 17

End of Book 1

a/n

Look who’s finally updated... *points to self* anyway, thank you for reading and leaving your feedback. Feedback is honestly the BIGGEST fuel for a writer. Its honestly so important. So if you think of something funny relating to the story, have any questions, or even just a heart emoji in my ask box, don’t hold back! :)

As you can see, this is the end of Book 1. There will be a Book 2 that continues onto season 2, so don’t worry! This fic wont be coming to an end anytime soon. I have big plans!

Until next time <3

-Miki

[edxwin-elric]

Chemistry (Part 4)

Part 4: Netflix and Chill Bumps

Rating: T

Pairing: Edwin/Edward Elric x Winry Rockbell

Disclaimer: I don’t own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Word Count: 2106

Description: Part 4 of this Edwin Thing (it just keeps going)

Edward gets to pick the movie for his Friday night date with Winry, and his choice isn’t quite her cup of tea. Fortunately, he’s learned how to distract her.

A/N: This AU was supposed to be 3 parts and a companion piece, but the fates have decided otherwise. So, for now, each new thing will be a new part with no defined end. Anyway, this one isn’t smutty, and also, I hope you like it. Let me know.

Fic trade with @winryofresembool “This movie is really scary, but you’re into it, so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but—WHAT IS THAT?” from these fluff prompts.

tag || first || ffn || ao3

previous || next

Edward

I can’t believe she’s actually willing to watch this with me. I’ve known Winry forever, and she doesn’t do scary movies. Not the thrillers anyway. B-rated blood and guts movies she can handle, but the ones that get into your head and make your heart race…

I steal a glance at her and force myself not to grin. Her eyes are the size of saucers, and the title only blinked through the screen a few minutes ago. She’s holding the blanket really tight, too. I wonder how long it will take before she hides under it.

If I were any kind of decent boyfriend I would change to something else. Like Doctor Who or that romantic movie she keeps mentioning…something about loving boys before. But I’m not changing it because if my devious plan works, she’ll be too scared to watch and hide her face in my chest, allowing me the perfect excuse to cuddle her.

Also, I like this movie, but, considering how many times I’ve seen it on my own, that’s not really a factor.

I hear someone walk past the door at the top of the basement stairs, and Winry flinches.

“What was that?” she hisses.

“Probably just Al,” I murmur softly, sliding my arm around her tense shoulders.

“Oh.” She relaxes, fractionally and slowly looks back at the screen.

We’re having our date night in my basement since it’s the most private room in the house with a TV. We could’ve watched the movie on my laptop in my bedroom, but Dad has all these dumb bedroom rules for when we have girls over about keeping the door open at least twelve inches, and not sharing a blanket, and having at least one lamp on. I’m honestly surprised he doesn’t check on us every fifteen minutes to be sure we’ve managed to keep all of our clothes on. You’d think he was some kind of dorm parent at a catholic boarding school or something. It’s a miracle Al and I were ever conceived the way he acts about dating.

The joke is on him, though, since Winry and I have already done the damn deed. Twice since prom night, actually. Though, we’re going to have to get creative since we can’t do it at her house anymore—not after the look Granny Pinako gave me when she caught me leaving the house the morning after prom. Plus, my house clearly isn’t a safe option, and the other times we did it were in less than ideal circumstances—once in the chemistry lab after hours when I was supposed to be working on some advanced experiments that I had to ask special permission to do, and once during lunch when we did it in the back of one of the cars in her shop class garage. I thought we were for sure going to get caught by Ryan or somebody.

But, regardless, I really shouldn’t bother worrying about it right now because none of that will be happening tonight. Not with Mr. Van-those-moans-better-be-because-someone-is-bleeding-out-on-the-TV-Edward-or-I’ll-have-The-Talk-with-you-in-front-of-your-girlfriend-Hohenheim upstairs.

He tried to give me “The Talk” when he found out I was having Winry over to watch a movie. As if the first time he gave it to me wasn’t painful enough. Alphonse looked like he was about to pee himself laughing, meanwhile, no one is giving him the sex talk. And he’s had a girlfriend for OVER A YEAR. I mean, how is it that I somehow look like a horny teenager and Al looks pure and innocent when he’s the one who can smooth talk any girl in school, and I can barely say two words to Winry without sounding like an idiot?

“Hey, Ed…”

“What?” I blink and glance down at the girl tucked into my arm.

Is she trembling? No. Nothing even truly scary has happened yet. Maybe she’s just cold.

“Look…” she swallows, and I bite my lip.

Fuck. She is scared. I shouldn’t be enjoying this, but…hell if I’m going to stop now.

“Are you okay?” I ask gently, even though I already know the answer.

“Yeah. It’s just…this movie is really scary,” she starts, her eyes darting to the TV and then back to mine as she licks her lips, “but you’re into it, so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but—WHAT IS THAT?”

She jumps up from the couch and starts hopping around wildly. Meanwhile, I instantly double over, holding my stomach. I know it was cruel, but I couldn’t help it, and now I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe. Fuck my original plan, this was so much better.

“Ed! Something is on the couch!” she shrieks. “It just crawled on me!” she whimpers through her chattering teeth as she runs her hands over her body, trying to rid herself of an invisible critter.

“Winry–” I gasp, reaching an arm out to brace myself on the coffee table. “Winry, calm…down.”

“Calm down?” she hisses. “You calm down after something horrible climbs on you! Where did it go? Did you get it?”

“Winry, it wasn’t anything. I was just teasing you,” I choke, climbing to my feet. “Seriously, there’s nothing there.”

I approach her slowly and rest my hands on her shaking shoulders.

“Wait. What?” she whispers. “Did you say… You? You were teasing me?”

Oh shit.

“I mean…yes? It was just my fingertips on your thigh, I didn’t think—HEY!”

She shoves me backward, and I fall onto the couch before I can catch my balance.

“Edward Elric! You are such a…TOTAL…IDIOT…ASSHAT…JERK!”

She punctuates each insult with a blow from the pillow she grabbed off the seat next to me, beating me over the head with it.

“I…CANNOT…BELIEVE…YOU!”

“Winry!” I bellow, ducking out from under her, crawling away from the couch on all fours. “Cut it out!”

“You knew I didn’t like scary movies!” she yells over me, throwing the entire pillow this time. “Why would you do that?”

“I’m sorry, all right?” I bite out, scrambling to stand.

“Not sorry enough!” she huffs. “I had thought, maybe, if you were determined to watch a movie that was going to scare the pee out of me, you might be nice enough to hold me closer so I wouldn’t be so afraid, but NO! Instead, you DID THIS!”

Her body goes still and she takes a few harsh breaths before her shoulders slump forward and her hands go to her face. Her body twitches, and I feel something cold run down my spine when I hear her whimper.

Oh fuck. Oh no.

“No, no, no, no, no!” I blurt, immediately wanting to punch myself for making this happen. “Winry, don’t cry. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have scared you. We can watch something else. I’ll let you pick.”

I reach for her, but she swats my hands away.

“Shut up, Edward!” She glares at me with bloodshot eyes. “I’m mad at you.”

“I know,” I groan. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re right about that,” she sniffles.

“I didn’t mean to make you this upset. I just… It was a bad joke. I’m really sorry. Please, forgive me, Win.”

She wipes at her face and looks up at me again before letting out a wet sigh.

“Of course, I forgive you, you jerk,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “Since when have I not.”

“Okay…good.”

I tentatively put my arms around her, pulling her back down on the couch, where I stretch out with her on top of me, her head resting on my shoulder.

“You owe me,” she says softly.

“I always owe you,” I point out. “But you’re right.”

“I don’t think I want to watch this anymore, Ed.”

“I actually guessed that,” I laugh softly, which gets me a flick on the ear. “Ow.”

“You said you’d let me pick,” she reminds me, her voice getting airy. “I want to watch To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before.”

“That’s the sappy teen one, right?”

“Just put it on, okay?”

I turn my head to kiss her forehead as I hit the buttons on the remote. She snuggles closer to me, and I reach down to pull the blanket up over us as the opening titles begin.

“Hey.” I frown at the screen before glancing down at her, “I thought this was supposed to be about high school kids. Why is she in a field in that old timey dress?”

“Shut up, Ed. Just watch.”

I roll my eyes before they dart to the stairs where light is shining into the dark room through a crack.

“What?” I call. “Do you need something?”

“It’s just me,” Al answers, coming down the top few steps. “May is over to study. You guys sounded a little…loud, so she asked me to check on you.”

“We’re fine, Al,” Winry replies, planting an elbow in my chest to raise herself up.

I wince, but ignore it.

“Ed just decided he’d rather scare the life out of me than get a goodnight kiss is all.”

“Wait, what?” I blink. “No kissing?”

She gives me a look I can read all too well, and I groan.

“Fuck. That’s not even fair, Winry.”

“Well, then you shouldn’t have–”

“I think you two are okay,” Al mumbles. “I’m just going to go back to…yeah.”

He leaves, and I start to shift Winry off of me.

“Okay, whoa!” she yelps, throwing her hand out toward the arm rest behind my head. “You don’t have to throw me on the floor.”

“I’m not,” I grunt. “I’m just… What the hell? I said I was sorry, and you forgave me.”

“Forgiveness doesn’t negate consequences, Edward.” She frowns. “You were really mean,” her voice softens. “And it hurt my feelings.”

“Dammit, Winry. You know I’m the literal worst with emotions. I’ve always been terrible about doing stupid things that make you cry. It’s not like I meant to.”

“Well, that may be true, but I still think no kissing is a fair punishment.”

“Oh yeah?” I scowl at her. “Well, you do realize that means you won’t get any kisses either then, right?”

She blinks and then frowns. “Oh.”

“Seriously?” I shake my head at her. “You didn’t think of that?”

“I’m still upset, okay?” she snaps. “Quit.”

“How about this,” I suggest carefully, slowly tucking her back into my side, “no kissing until the end of the movie.”

“That might require more restraint than you realize,” she murmurs.

“Then it sounds like a decent compromise to me.”

“Okay.” She nods, resting her head on my chest. “But after the end, kissing is fair game until you have to take me home.”

“How long is this movie again?” I ask instantly.

“A little over an hour and a half,” she answers, checking the run time on the TV screen.

“And, uh, when is your curfew tonight?” I follow up, glancing at the time on my phone.

“Midnight,” she breathes with way more sexiness than should be legal.

“Uh, Winry…” I swallow, trying to ignore the rush of lust filling my veins. “That’s like…over forty-five minutes of making out. I don’t know if I can…”

“Calm down, boyfriend,” she says quietly, pressing all of her softness against me. “We still have to watch the whole movie first.”

Fuck me to death. What kind of hell have I gotten myself into?

I close my eyes and inhale the scent of Winry’s shampoo, trying to relax. I mean, it’s just an hour and a half. That’s only ninety minutes. I can handle that. As long as I don’t think about what comes after. I can definitely manage to watch a movie with Winry on top of me for that measly amount of time. No problem.

“Ed, why is your skin covered in chill bumps? Are you feeling okay?”

“What? I’m fine,” I sputter. “Don’t—It’s nothing.”

“You’re such a boy,” she mutters before sighing. “I love you.”

I freeze for a second before I exhale, squeezing her gently in my arms as I start to relax.

“I love you back, gearhead.”

Out of the corner of my eye I see her roll hers, but I don’t say anything. Instead, I turn to the TV and let myself be sucked into her cheesy romance movie. She was willing to watch my movie even if it meant she’d have nightmares for a week. The least I can do is watch hers. Not to mention I owe her.

And, even if I didn’t, I’d watch grass grow if it meant I got to be with her. The only place I want to be at for the rest of my life is beside her.

[shanastoryteller]

SHANA HOW DO YOU START WRITING A STORY? I have the idea of how it will end and a VERY BASIC plot, but I've never attempted to write an actual book before and all I have are half-finished stories. How do you start the first chapter and plan for plot-related scenes? How do you weave a narrative out of the tiny bits of actual story I have? Any advice here? :(

oh wow i’m just the WORST at advice!!!

but i talk here about my horrible and messy writing process when it comes to starting a story

and i’ve talked about my shit outlines before, but i guess here take a some examples?

under the cut i’ll put my outlines for cut from the same cloth and chapter three of survival is a talent. idk if can really recommend planning this way because it’s … a disaster, but it’s the way that works best for me ???

also i want no sass from any of you about my horrible outlines, YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO SEE THEM THEY’RE JUST FOR ME, but i’m making an exception and posting them just as an example of how i plan stories, because i get a lot of asks about it

especially with survival is a talent, you can see my final product deviates from my outline A LOT. so i’m also very against sticking to your outlines. 

also, honestly, if it’s under 10k i … probably didn’t even do an outline. i didn’t write a single thing down when i was writing an invincible summer until the partway through third chapter, so more than 50k into writing it

anywho, here you go, i hope this helps???

arranged marriag au

izuku attended UA in the general mprogram, and eventually switched to support

he got one for all when he was 13 and kept it a secret for Reasons

all for one is maybe probably dead? no he’s the big bad. but he hasn’t been active.

all-might is the only dad he’s ever known, his real dad being very absent. inko isn’t thrilled about the turn her sons life has taken, and has a kinda strained relationship with toshi, but she knows her son loves and respects him and she can’t deny him that

all-might’s issues with his form aren’t as bad, and they’re a huge secret - no one but the ua teachers and some other people know. endeavor finds out and threatens to tell everyone, unless izuku marries his son. toshi is fucking pissed that endeavor would even propose that, but izuku doesn’t even have to think about it. he agrees instantly.

his best friends are mei hatsume and hitoshi shinso. bakugou is his best best friend.

he acts under the secret identity deku as all-might’s sidekick. bakugou is also a side kick, and one of the few people that know all his secrets. also one of the few people that are publically known to know both izuku, his childhood bff, and deku, his fighting / hero partner.

his cover is working with mei in her support items company, and he actually does contribute a large amount to that. todoroki thinks he has an intelligence quirk.

everyone thinks izuku has the same quirk as nedzu (high spec), just to a lesser degree, and that he just thought he was quirkless until he went to ua and nedzu took an interest in him. in reality it’s just a cover and he really was quirkless, but now he has one for all.

bakugou to todoroki: he has the same quirk as principal nedzu. if i’m worried about someone, it’s not going to be midoriya.

shouto takes midoriya to this hero social thing, and watches him and bakugou interact, and is like um???????? and everyone is like uh okay, this is fine, it’s nothing to worry about i’m sure.

they go home, shouto is jealous but feels like he doesn’t even have a right to be jealous, and midoriya is like, well, i was hoping to dance with you actually, or sometihng equally sappy, and then they have sex

the just. have a lot of FUCKING sex.

someone kidnaps midorya because he’s shouto’s husband, and a bunch of other people, and the truth comes out when he fucking DESTROYS them

midoriya tells shouto the whole truth, and he has shouto’s mom move in with his mom, and izuku and shouto live happily ever after

oh also deku officially comes out as deku

so, background pairings: aizawa/hizashi, tenya/mei, kirishima/bakugou/uraraka

add in scene where pro heroes are called away “should we all really be going?” “we’re leaving the sidekicks behind, it’ll be fine.”

bakuou discovering his mom has been take. mei being taken for tenya. others. uraraka’s parents. didn’t take someone for everyone, only the top sidekicks.

todoroki did get a message - they’re broadcasting everything. they’re all gathered in izuku’s house. todoroki is a mess. the rest of his family show up. inko and yukiko are fast friends, even in a criss.

bad guy monologue. izuku being like wtf?? discovers all for one is in charge.

shinsou, bakugou, and inko trying to come up with reasons to do nothing. bakugou wants to charge in, even though it’s a trap, but shinsou tells him they’re fine, they don’t know. bakugou is worried that izuku will choose to protext his secret over over saving everyone.

heroe are on their way back. they don’t know what’s going on.

once izuku gets confirmation that all the hostages are in the room with him, he goes wild. hand guy is about to touch mei when he does it. reveals that he’s deku to the world.

bakugou and inko go wild. they all get a text with a location. everyone bucked up to go.

they have to fight all for one. todoroki pov, notices how similar deku and bakugou fighting is to izuku and bakugou dancing.

izuku finally tales all of the one for all quirk to beat all for one. he gets away, but he’s hurt.

family reunion scene. everyoen takes their respective loved ones and bounces. have people reactions to deku.

izuku and shouto have a Talk and then there is Sex

add nezu scene and shiga deciding to send nobus

siat third year

draco keeps offering to curse his cousin and his family. harry discovers that draco has rather a lot of freedom, as his parents, especially his father, is rather busy. draco casually uses the floo network to visit pansy and blaise often. harry thinks draco’s parents are rather cold, and uncaring. draco thinks that harry’s family needs to be cursed.

they got each other bday presents, but are saving them until they see each other at hogwarts. draco got harry gifts from japan, where he visited the past summer with luna and his mother. harry is incredibly worried that draco will think it’s stupid, but he picked the first iris that bloomed and carefully pressed it, and did the same for the most beautiful iris each full moon, so he has a mini boquet of iris flowers.

chapter opens with harry panicking about aunt marge. he calls draco, who tells him to take the knight bus and stay calm. mention the dog. draco’s worried, clearly, but he won’t tell harry why.

draco talks wistfully of meeting harry in diagon, but they know its a bad idea. show a scene of draco with pansy and blaise. mention dobby.

draco is super worried about harry one the train.

mention draco’s silver buttons

add in crookshanks

golden trio have a convo about draco’s dad and allegiances. mention imperio and vertisarium.

draco knows what sirius black being free means because he’s not a moron. it takes a while for him to figure out that harry doesn’t know, then he tells him. draco talks about his cousin. says he’s a black and can’t be trusted. “draco, you’re a black.” “yes, and very few people trust me.”

the thing with buckbeack really is an accident. harry is really worried about draco - it is a lot of blood. lucius comes down, furious. draco tries to tell his dad he’s fine, but he stands up too suddenly and whites out, and lucius has to told him up right. is upset because his son is hurt and because he can’t be affectionate with him in front of all these people. lucius decides buckbeak needs to die.

draco tries to pretend his arm isn’t bothering him, which it is because it’s a magical wound. but pansy does all his chopping and what not and draco just oversees.

draco doesn’t like lupin, and won’t say why. he and hermione have a convo about it, and decided not to say anything, for very different reasons. or he just assumes hermione told him. “i really need to stop assuming people tell you anything”

use polyjuice so harry can go to hogsmead?

draco and the twins develop a friendship.

draco becomes a chaser in 3rd year, and gives harry way more of a run for his money as a chaser. he scores so many points for his team that sometimes even when harry catches the snitch, they still lose. this is also why the twins become friends with him, because they spend a lot of energy constantly trying to knock him off his broom

sirius gets in and draco freaks the fuck out, as do the other slytherins. draco looks him over. sends over luna to sleep by harry, who brings ginny.

snape does werewolf lessons

hufflepuff vs gryffindor game. draco’s the one who performs wingardium leviosa to save him, subtly. only his friends and a couple of professors notice. not a soft or nice fall, but it means he just has bruises and broken bones. later, lupin will realize the wingardium leviosa that saved harry was draco’s was harry. maybe draco’s charm gives dumbledore enough time to cast his?

draco has to go home for christmas because otherwise his parents will go mental. but he gives harry his gift with stern instructions not to open it until christmas. they talk on christmas, and harry sees that draco has already hung the flowers in his room. says his mom helped him. harry asks about his dad, and draco says, “dad doesn’t have an opinion about interior design. mum just does whatever she wants and dad pays for it”

everyone gets together to try and think of a way to save buckbeak, but lucius is pissed

when harry is training with lupin draco bursts in, goes in front of harry, realizes its a boggart when it changes forms, and uses ridiculous to stop it. he then turns his wand on lupin, using the disarming charm. harry wakes up and stops him from cursing him, then when he calms down asking him what he’s thinking. “oh like, you’ve never been attacked by a professor before?” “thats…a fair point.”

except now lupin has seen draco willing to take a dementor’s kiss and fight a professor for harry, so this mortal enemy thing isn’t going to work. draco tells lupin he knows he's’ a werewolf, and threatens to expose him to the school board if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut about all of this. or nah, says his mom said to let her know if lupin so much as looked at him funny, and she would destroy him. draco says and lupin ever hurts harry he’ll use his father’s solution instead, and lupin half smiles and compliments his buttons. draco says yes, they could do a lot of damage, even with simple wingardium leviosa charm. then that lupid realized it was draco who slowed harry’s fall before. draco makes comparison between buckbeak and lupin. harry’s like he’s a werewolf?? “obviously, didn’t granger tell you?” joke about needing a memory charm. lupin knows they’re not enemies, doesn’t know they’re soulmates.

draco taking patronus charm classes alongside harry after the confrontation with lupin.

while hermione is being ostracized by ron and harry. she hangs out with the slytherins. her and draco really do get along scarily well. draco agrees with hermione that the firebolt should be inspected. very odd moment for everyone, really.

scabbers is supposedly eaten by crookshanks

harry says that cho is kinda pretty and draco gets pissy. harry and ron vs draco and hermione. they’re both just like what the fuck m8.

buckbeak verdict is announced. draco is like !!! what do you want me to do ???? and it’s actually ron who’s like don’t worry about it mate, we know you tried, can image my dad would be too pleased if i was mauled by buckbeak

slytherin vs gryffindor game - harry still catches the snitch and they win, but thanks to draco on chaser they only win by 100 points, so slytherin still gets the quidditch cup. wood curses up a storm that malfoy switched to chaser, he’s far too good at it. draco is worried harry will be pissed they got the cup, and he’s a little indignant, but mostly he’s … kinda proud of draco? because there were almost no fouls this game. slytherin won mostly fair and square. lee jordan spends a lot time commentating that malfoy switching to chaser was the worst thing that ever happened to gryffindor.

draco follows them down to hagrids. finally admits that he feels guilty and stiffly apologized to hagrid, saying he tried to talk his dad out of it, but he wouldn’t listen. hagrid is instantly endeared, because he is the best person in all of the hp series. says something about he shouldn’t have brought something that dangerous. draco calls hagrid ‘scamander stock’ and he tries to make it sound like an insult, but by the way hagrid tears up it’s clear it’s a compliment. they see lucius and the executioner coming, and draco panics - his dad will be pissed if he finds him. hagrid hurries all of them out and gives draco and affectionate pat on the way out.

they all end up following into the whomping willow. sirius, lupin, and snape. pettigrew.

draco is more concerned about sirius than lupin - figures a black with a vendetta is more worrisome than a werewolf. look at his mother, after all. he and sirius get into an argument about it all. is like wtf about the scabbers thing.

snape appears, they fight. harry disarms him, and draco is like fuck this noise he uses the memory charm on him from behind, then ron knocks him out. lupin: “i thought you struggled with non corporeal tied charms.” draco: “…. i do.” no one has any idea what condition snape will wake up in. draco’s like if snape finds out about us, that’s fucking it, he’ll never keep the secret. golden trio’s like that’s your head of house!!! and draco shrugs and is like whatever he’s kind of bastard, really. and sirius laughs and says he’s not all bad or something like that.

deal with the pettigrew thing

snape has only lost a few hours worth of memory. he asks why draco was there, and draco is like ??? i saw someone sneaking around and told you and followed you out, what the heck.

draco and harry go back in time. draco knew about the time turner. harry “why does no one tell me anything” potter. he summons a snake, and harry uses parseltongue to tell it what to do. it captures pettigrew. draco and hermione are anxious, looking for whoever cast the patronus, but harry realizes it was him, and does it. they steal buckbeak and take him to sirius. they’ve captured pettigrew. trials are not easy things, so black should stay away until some sort of bail is posted on him or something. but authorities do get called.

pettigrew does escape custody, but not before everyone sees him. so he still helps resurrect voldemort, but the sirius’s trial / case is still be reviewed. MOTHERFUCKING PLOT TWIST lucius agrees to represent sirius in trial. people point out that won’t help his believability any, and naricissa is like my cousin deserves the best and the best is my husband, get fucked.

draco’s talk with lupin. banishes his silver buttons, and says that lupin should stay because he’s a great teacher, and exactly what they’ll need to survive what’s coming. call’s it his “furry little problem” unknowingly echoing james. lupin laughs, lighter. harry bursts in saying he’s heard. draco is like oh good, maybe he’ll listen to you. but lupin ignores them both and ruffles their hair.

silver trio is there. just. reacting to things, hanging out.

ginny sticking her nose in things, while being bffs with luna.

maurader’s map locked so it can’t be changed or altered. our group amends it so it can’t be altered by any but the original six.

add crookshanks and scabbers

[latinuser]

Okay so I’m currently in a bit of a root of depression/insecurity/HELLA QUESTIONING MY SHIT right now, which all added together with the need of a job kind of fucks over the mental state to create stuff and get out of that funk. You just sorta. Binge? Lay there doing nothing, you aren’t super upset at that moment but you don’t feel anything, so you’re watching comedy skits or anime or something to bring yourself to a high point so that you can feel motivated to do anything.

But, while being in this shit hole where the majority of my brain turns to: Nobody supports you, you don’t know what you feel so how dare you even think the way you do/you’re fucking over other people you love/you have it so easy stfu

I decided, LETS TRY AND BE PRODUCTIVE (and vent sorta with the above) and so I’m gonna throw up a bunch of shit I like to do to try and help myself feel better (because I can be happy in a moment but it fades over time with the whole depression until you feel like a void)

So, down below is gonna be just some shit I do to make myself do stuff set into categories of:

Art/Drawing

Writing

and Chores

Key note, this works for me. It may not for others, but if it works for some people then I’m glad to provide a little relief.

If anyone else has other advice/resources add on to this post!!

ART/DRAWING

First thing I suggest is something I’ve been doing for ages before I even recognized I was doing it for my depression.

Find a super old piece of art you did, like two-three years ago, and then re-draw it. For slumps (especially long ones) where Depression just won’t let you think creatively, not having to overthink what you’re drawing is helpful. Having an old piece where the pose/the basic composition of the piece is already decided let’s you just work through everything faster, even if you change the pose slightly/what the character is doing. You know the scene, that’s the important bit.

Once done, look back at the old piece, then what you can do now. You may not be satisfied with where you are, but, you are almost guaranteed to be better than the older piece. 

Second thing is memes. Whether it’s draw your character memes or faces or something, just. Draw them. All of them. It’s a good warm up, and it also let’s you go kind of zen and, again, not have to think creatively.

Third is get paper (physical paper) and pen, crayons, etc... any and all different mediums, and just. Scribble. Not being specific has a bit of freedom in it and lets you get out of a “What tf do I draw, it has to be perfect/anything i do is shit” mindset.

Fourth is similar to the last. If you have a medium you haven’t used in a long time (pen/paper, pencil/paper, colored pencils, marker, etc...) pick it up again. Usually making yourself work with something you aren’t used to/haven’t done in a long time lets you see the other skills you’ve progressed and feels good at the time, lets you move forward a bit easier.

Fifth, drink something hydrating. Water, tea, etc... just something that isn’t soda or energy drinks. This is more so just an “in general” statement, but I find I think more clearly when I’m drinking cold water.

WRITING

First thing I like to do is, similar to the first drawing is, read my old writing. Not re-write it, but just. Read it. Read it and pick out all my mistakes and laugh at my grammar or cringy I was. It helps me see where I flubbed out and where I can improve.

Second is pencil/paper write it out. Write out some of your story beats, how it works, etc... Hell, if you have a whiteboard thats even better! This way you can get a far away look at everything. (Also there’s just something to me about writing on paper?? Idk, it’s nice)

Third is eat/drink something. Yeah, same as the fifth one for drawing but this is!!! SUPER!!! IMPORTANT!!!!!! Sometimes you dont realize the reason your head is foggy/your “muse” or your mojo isn’t working is cuz “I haven’t eaten in like 9+ hours and holy shit is that the time?” So just. Get some water, get some fruit/peanuts/something small at your desk and snack while you write.

Fourth is turning all your text white in whatever document. This is more so if you just get stuck at a specific part for me, but it can work for this too. Turning your text white makes you have to ignore your mistakes / what you wrote prior and just keep moving forward, cuz you backspace once and who tf knows what’s going on.

CHORES

Chores are monotonous things that, when you have 0 energy and can’t see a point in doing anything, kind of get pushed to the side. Especially in comparison to the creative things (like writing/drawing) that get pushed to the side because “I can not do that” but!! Here’s a few things I do right before starting them to keep me going.

First thing is white noise.

No. Really. Just. Put something on in the background and have that playing while you drag your butt around the house. This won’t work all the time (like all of these won’t work all of the time) but I find it’s helpful.

Second, family help. So this one is, again, not for everybody and definitely not gonna work if you don’t have someone around who’s willing to take your phone/tablet/random device away from you, but. If you do. Ask your sibling/parent/friend to take your phone away from you after (x) amount of time (i usually say 20 minutes cuz that gets me through one YT episode) and then to take it and hide it (still playing, mind you) and hide it somewhere.

Not too hard, but def. somewhere I gotta go and search. Makes me get up, makes me have to go to whatever other room it is, and means I’m much more likely to keep moving.

Third is, honest to god, showering. Just. Do it?? I dunno what it is about showering, and I don’t care if it’s 9AM, Noon, or 11PM, take a shower. Showers can help you wake up or wind down and, generally, the water will ease you and make you relax more. Plus, as said with above, once you start moving, you keep going. Even if you don’t quite understand why.

Fourth is binging while you work. I usually carry my phone around with me, YT or a Podcast blasting in my pocket and just walk around and do my chores kind of numbly in these moods. It’s not the easiest and I do get 100% distracted/just don’t want to keep going. But it helps me, similarly to white noise.

Fifth, can anybody guess what this is?

That’s right. Drink/Eat stuff. AND AGAIN, make sure it isn’t just junk food or soda/carbonated drinks. Again, fruit, peanuts, just something?? Is better than nothing.

Anyway there are some of my things. Hope this helped some people?? As a final “THIS IS WHAT I LOOK AT” I’ll put down some pretty sappy/funny stuff I like to watch in this mood to give me more positive ... mess of something in my stomach while I work.

Lucahjin

Masaenala

Chuggaconroy

TheRunawayGuys

Ponder Sprocket

TheZodiacLord

TheOdd1sOut

Jaiden Animations

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

Fragile Hearts Ch. 3: I Want Your Midnights

Remember you can commission me for continuations with just 5 dollars!!! <3 </i>

Click the OP if the READ MORE link does not show!

Click here for chapter 1

Click Here for Ch. 2

Of course a big thank you to the person who commissioned! 

READ ON AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11928798/chapters/26961477

A TRIGGER WARNING- dubious consent/implied assault (in the past NOT between hidge)

You should know that I was debating this chapter and where it went for a while before deciding to go ahead and keep it as it was. I actually had to get my guy friend’s input on it.

I’ve always said that I wanted to write reality. I’ve always wanted to write stories that incorporate the real world, not just some fantasy life. I believe that the things we are shielded from in literature, those things that place banned books on a list together, are all things that need to be talked about. So I’m hoping that you all as reader can understand that too.

Please feel free to stop reading if it gets uncomfortable. I promise the chapter after will pick up just fine. But if you are willing to read it, please understand why I write what I write. These things happen. And they aren’t talked about. In a sense, I was also sort of imposing my experiences on these characters. Writing is therapeutic for me and I tend to do so often before I realize it.

I’ve sort of hinted at it with Pidge in previous chapters, but this one explains a little further. There is no explicit detail, I know I may be making it out to seem like a scene from The Kite Runner or something, but no. I just know that a lot of people tend to get offended if not warned about the slightest possible trigger so I’m trying to take precautions.

I hope you all continue to read and watch this love story develop! 

Thank you all for reading!

These butterflies were not welcome. Not in the slightest. They made everything so complicated. And it wasn’t a simple fluttering or even a swarm. It was a fucking tsunami of butterflies every single time she knew Hunk was coming around and every single time as he left.

It was strange though. As soon as Hunk was there with her, as soon as he hugged her and started conversation, they went away. And Pidge felt so comfortable, hours could pass without her realizing just by joking and talking and catching up. It was like her butterflies were sedated by his presence. She was thankful because said sedation kept her from acting weird around him. Hunk knew her too well, and he would easily pick up on her acting different around him.

He stopped by the apartment every day after work to say hi to her and Matt. And he’d stay to talk into the late hours of the night. Typically, Matt would end up excusing himself to sleep, leaving Pidge and Hunk to talk and laugh.

They had a habit of always reverting to food. Somehow, each conversation would veer off until Pidge was asking Hunk about his baking and cooking. And each time, Pidge found herself smiling at the light that came into Hunk’s eyes when he talked about it. Whether it was about umami and how he had to get ingredients to react together just right for that special taste, or if it was about the serenity of icing cakes, or the excitement each time a customer freaked out over the intricateness of their cake. It didn’t matter. Hunk would light up and ramble, and Pidge could feel herself falling a little more for him with each word.

One night, Pidge joined him at his apartment to enjoy a few drinks. She didn’t like drinking around Matt, partially because she always felt like she was still 15 in his eyes. But he would also always be just an 18 year-old in hers. Besides, it was a big day! Hunk had gotten booked for cakes for the entire month of January and it was New Year’s Eve!

New Year’s Day was a Monday, so Matt had taken a single shot of whiskey and gone to bed.

Meanwhile, Pidge was still on vacation and Hunk had closed the bakery for tomorrow. They were just fine sitting in his apartment drinking cheap champagne out of the bottle as they watched fireworks through the window.

“Any resolutions, Pidge?” he asked.

“To graduate. Get a job.” She looked over at him and passed him the bottle. “You?”

He tipped the bottle back and sighed. “I don’t know. Every year since we got back, I tell myself I’m gonna find the others. Just to know they’re okay. But I can never bring myself to.”

She frowned and hoisted herself up to sit on the window ledge. “Why not?”

“Because we all lost contact for a reason, right? We remind each other of… bad times and…. They wouldn’t want to see me. Lance was my best friend, and if he hasn’t reached out to me, it’s because he doesn’t want me reaching out to him. We’re our own reminders of war, Pidge.” She looked down at her hands and furrowed her eyebrows. “Shit. I didn’t mean…. You’re not….”

“It’s okay,” she said offering him a smile. “I get it.”

“No,” he insisted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The champagne is making my words come out funny. It’s just….” He took a breath and looked at Pidge. “I’m happy I saw you again. I don’t want you to disappear, even though I know you’re okay. I miss Lance and Keith and Shiro, but I’m scared they won’t want to see me. Yeah, we all needed distance at first; we’re all we had on the castle for like four years. But now I just want things back to how they used to be.”

She smiled and leaned her head back. “You mean, me posing as a guy and Lance and Keith competing in everything?” He laughed and shook his head. “Yeah I get it. When I saw you at the bakery, I kind of panicked. I wondered if seeing me would upset you.”

“I wondered that too. If I’d upset you, or if I’d get upset unconsciously. But honestly, all I’ve felt since I saw you again has been relief.” She smiled at him, the blush in her cheeks not only from the alcohol buzzing happily in her brain, but from the closeness and the quiet words. “I’m so happy you’re back in my life, Katie Holt.”

She turned away, unable to contain her smile. “You’re getting sappy, Garrett.” She hopped off the windowsill and took his hand. “Come on. Now isn’t the time for gloom. We’re gonna get trashed and we’re gonna reign in the new year smiling!”

He laughed and followed her to the kitchen where they poured themselves another drink. And then another. And another. Hunk turned on some music and cleared the living room where they stumbled around, claiming to dance, laughing so hard their stomachs hurt.

Pidge felt warm and her face was probably hurting from smiling so much, but she couldn’t feel it. She’d opened the window and the apartment was so cold, her fingers were numb. She and Hunk kept slurring words, laughing at each other dancing clumsily around the living room. Suddenly fireworks went off one after another, screams and squeals of delight rising up to the apartment window.

“What time’s it?” Pidge asked, dragging herself to the couch as she recovered from a laughing fit. “M’God, Hu-unk!” He hummed and plopped down beside her. “We missed the coun’dow,’” she whined.

“We can make our own,” he said. “Okay, okay. Ready? Ten! Nine! Eight!” Pidge laughed and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He blinked rapidly and chuckled softly. “You’re s’posed to wait till zero.”

“Oh. Whoops.” He chuckled and looked at her, unfocused eyes and breath that smelled sweet from the Disaronno liquor. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Pidge.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek, and suddenly every cold, numb feeling went away and her entire body was alive with warmth and joy. She bit her lip to contain her smile, glancing at him.

He was so close. His dark skin lighting up with the fireworks outside, the steady beat of whatever song was playing from the television. She could just lean forward and give in and blame it on being drunk.

If it weren’t for the sudden lurch of her stomach.

She took a breath and swallowed hard. “Gotta use the bathroom,” she mumbled, standing unsteadily as she walked to the bathroom. He followed behind her, asking if she was okay, but she didn’t trust herself to talk.

The good thing about being drunk is that you’re never really too aware of the moment you throw up. Pidge always hated being sick, but it wasn’t so terrible when she was drunk. It just sort of happened until she was… sort of done.

She was vaguely aware of a hand at her back, vaguely realized she should be embarrassed.

She flushed the toilet, cleaned her mouth, and looked back at Hunk with a smile. “I think I drank too much.”

Hunk smiled and shook his head, his arm wrapped around her middle as he pulled her back against him. He ran his fingers through the waves of hair on one side as she sighed. For a moment it was just them, sleepy and drunk on the bathroom floor.

“’M cold an’ tired,” she whispered.

“You should rest. I’ll sleep on-” he hiccupped, “couch.”

She shook her head and tilted her head back. “No. You’re warm. Stay with me.”

“Mkay.”

It took a while before they both stood and made their way to Hunk’s room to sleep. He lent her a pair of basketball short and a shirt that she changed into before crawling under the covers and promptly falling asleep.

***

When Pidge woke up, the room was cold and unfamiliar. She turned over, groaning at the throbbing in her head, the disgusting taste in her mouth, and burn in her stomach. She kicked her feet, seeking comfort until her leg brushed against someone’s much warmer leg. She turned and saw Hunk sleeping on his stomach, turned away from her.

For a second, she panicked.

Had they done anything the night before? Had she said something stupid?

But then again, this was Hunk. She could trust him with her life. And she didn’t feel any different from a normal mediocre hangover. She was fully clothed… in his clothes, which were very comfortable. Everything was fine.

She nudged him and grumbled, turning his head. “Hunk, wake up,” she prodded, her voice hoarse.

He groaned and blinked, adjusting to the light in the room. “Whoa. Uh, morning,” he said with a light blush on his cheeks.

“Why is your room so cold?”

“I know I had the heater on yesterday. I dunno.” She shivered and curled into a fetal position. “You okay?”

“Hangover aside, yeah. Just cold.” She heard the chiming bells of her ringtone as a call came in. “Shit. Where’s my phone? Where are my pants?”

“What?” She got up and heard his sigh of relief. “Oh my God, okay. Okay. I need food.”

He stood as she searched the bathroom for her clothes, cursing the cold as she shivered. A hangover was bad enough, and shivering from the cold wasn’t helping. When she found her phone, she answered and looked herself in the mirror, cringing at the way her hair stuck up in odd places, tangling itself.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Pidge,” Matt chuckled. “You sound like shit.”

“Thanks, asshole.”

“Do I want to know what happened last night over there?”

Pidge huffed and ran her hand through her hair, trying to fix it. God, Hunk woke up to see her like this? “Nothing.”

“So you’re not hungover?” She cringed at the prospect of Matt knowing that. “Just tell me this isn’t the beginning of you two dating, because I promise my speech at the wedding will begin with, ‘So they got drunk on New Year’s and that’s what bring you all here!’”

“Oh my God. Matt!” He laughed, and she sat on the toilet seat cover. “No, nothing happened. I’ll be home in a bit, okay?”

“Drink water, eat food. I’ll be at work though, so I wanted to call.”

“Will do. And okay, I’ll probably just sleep until you get back then. Happy New Year’s, Matt. Love you.”

“Love you too, Pidge.”

She hung up and sighed before going to the sink to at least wash her mouth with mouthwash. She walked out, feeling embarrassed and gross and weird. She hugged her body and followed the scent of food to the kitchen.

“I found the reason the place was so cold. I think we opened the window at some point and forgot to close it,” Hunk said. She chuckled and sat down, watching him move expertly around the kitchen. Suddenly, he turned and leaned onto the counter to face her. His face was surprisingly red despite his dark skin. “Did I trespass at all? I just… I feel like there’s something I should apologize for, and I can’t remember much from yesterday and-”

Pidge laughed and threw a rage at his face to shut him up. “Relax Hunk. As far as I remember you were an absolute gentleman.” She blushed and looked down. “And if you’re asking what I think you’re asking, no I don’t think that happened. I… feel the same. And I’m pretty sure I’d feel different.”

“You haven’t…?”

She shook her head. “My dating life hasn’t been the best, dude. I don’t like the idea of sleeping around for fun. Not… for my first time.” She cleared her throat then glanced at him. “H-have you?”

He nodded and looked away again. “I was… in a bad place the first time. I had a girlfriend and she was a little… pushy? Manipulative?”

“A bitch,” Pidge supplied in a clipped tone.

Hunk just chuckled. “Yeah, that’s another way to put it. I don’t know. I was lonely. I didn’t want to let her go. It didn’t last though. Maybe a month max?” He shrugged. “After that it was a blind date my coworker set me up with. I wasn’t really into it, I didn’t know her much. Took weeks for me to feel like myself. That’s why… I just wanted to know I hadn’t fucked up again.”

Pidge took a shaking breath and bit her lip. Hunk’s back was to her, but she looked at him anyway. “Well, you didn’t. I promise.” She couldn’t help the way her heart sank, though. The idea of Hunk with other girls…. None of them would know him as well as she did. “I thought you said you hadn’t dated.”

“Mm, no. You asked about Shay. Not about anyone else.”

She hummed and messed with the hem of the oversized shirt she was wearing. She began to wonder if there would ever be a day when she and Hunk would be more than this. Best friends that got drunk together. It wasn’t horrible, but… Pidge really wanted more.

She wanted those things she’d seen in movies. The dates, the flowers, the period mixtape- she saw that movie once, and that one gift stuck with her since- the handholding, the gentle kisses, the dancing in the living room in the middle of the night. Her roommate told her to stop listening to Taylor Swift each time another boy proved to be an absolute idiot, but Pidge couldn’t help it. The music was catchy.

More specifically, she found herself wanting those things with Hunk. Because there was no one else she felt this comfortable around. No one else she felt she could be her absolute self with. Who better to understand the nightmares, the memories, to listen to her go on and on about engineering and technology and inventions, to see her as more than a girl and her body parts?

“You okay?” She blinked and refocused.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, this headache is driving me nuts. Plus I think I just remembered I threw up last night.” She grimaced as she tried to piece together fragments of memory. There had definitely been a bathroom involved.

Hunk’s eyebrows went up and for some reason, his cheeks reddened. “Okay, I actually remember that now. You actually laughed it off.” Pidge grimaced and hid her face in her hands. “Here, this’ll make you feel better,” he said. He gave her a rectangle with Spam and rice wrapped in seaweed. “Masubi. Quick and easy to make. Excellent for hangovers.”

“Thank you, you are a saint.” She bit into it and before she knew it, the food was gone. It was small, but still even Hunk was smirking at her. “I was hungry,” she muttered.

Hunk was happy to continue supplying masubi for them both as they regained their strength.

“So what are you doing today?”

“Nothing, I don’t think. Matt’s working, so I’ll probably just relax at home.”

“You know, we still have that movie to go watch. I don’t know if it’s still in theaters, but… we could check?” Pidge raised an eyebrow and allowed herself a smile. “You up for it?”

“Definitely.”

–

What the hell was a date? Pidge looked it up in the car. The word was defined as a social or romantic appointment or engagement. So… it was a date. But what kind of date? Romantic or social? And why was not knowing making Pidge sweat more than usual?

She just really wished she could tell what Hunk thought of her. Sure, they’d only met back up recently, but… well they were best friends. Did Hunk still see her as the fifteen-year old who’d passed as a boy? Or did he see her as a little sister? Was she too much like one of the guys? He’d called her beautiful, hadn’t he? Or was it pretty? They were different. They had different connotations, so it mattered. God, and she’d woken up in his bed that morning.

“What’s chewing at you over there?”

Pidge took a sharp breath and chuckled. “Nothing. Sorry.” Hunk looked over at her and frowned.

He didn’t say much aside from that as they drove and Pidge tried not to berate herself for being so awkward. Of course it wasn’t a fucking romantic date. She was wearing the same jeans from the day before and one of Hunk’s button ups with most of it tucked into her waist. She was still gulping down water to replenish that which she’d lost the night before. And now she was just making it weird.

Things felt somewhat okay once they were in the theater, hands shoving the other’s out of the way for better access to popcorn as they tried not to giggle too loudly, each with an Icee and a shared box of Whopper chocolates. The movie they’d gone to see wasn’t in theaters anymore, so they’d decided to watch the newest Star Wars. Even though she’d never seen any of the other Star Wars movies, Pidge didn’t have a problem staying up this time.

When the movie ended, they talked about the realities of space wars versus that which Hollywood had created. That was most of the ride until Hunk had taken her to get food at Chick-Fil-A. They ate in the parking lot inside the car with the radio on, talking about what they looked forward to that year.

“It’s funny. Last year, I think I just binged a Netflix show New Year’s day,” Hunk said. “I never expected that I’d be spending the day with you just a year later.”

She smiled and shrugged. “Who knows, maybe by next year, we’ll manage to find the others. We could all go to New York. I’ve been wanting to see the Rockefeller tree.” She licked her thumb and forefinger clean before reaching for her lemonade. “I have another break for Easter, but I don’t know if I can afford to come out here again. You and Matt should road trip to see me. Just a suggestion.”

“Suggestion, right.” He smiled and Pidge stuck her tongue out at him. “That’d be fun. Then it’s your turn to be a tour guide.”

She snorted and shook her head. “I barely leave my campus, what makes you think I don’t need a tour guide?”

“Oh my God, Pidge.” She shrugged again and finished her last piece of chicken.

“You know what would go great with the rest of these fries?”

Hunk met her eyes and smiled. “Oh, hell yeah. Let’s do it.” He drove back into the drive thru and ordered an ice cream cone for them both, along with freshly made, large fries. They parked in their same spot and sang along to the radio as they ate their ice cream and watched a light fall of snow outside.

“How much longer are you staying?” Hunk asked.

“I have to be back by the 14th.”

“So we’ve got two weeks to make up for about five lost years.”

“Sounds impossible.” Hunk looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “I accept the challenge.” He broke into a smile and it made the hurricane of butterflies come back full force.

–

Pidge got back to Matt’s place with enough time to plop onto her bed and mull over the day’s events for about fifteen minutes before she heard the door open and close again.

“Wakey wakey, Pidge!” he called. “You home?”

“He’s had sex,” was the first thing Pidge could think to respond as she stared at her ceiling helplessly.

Matt appeared at her doorway with a confused, slightly disturbed expression. “Okay, it’s gonna be one of those talks. Come on, sis, I’ll make some hot chocolate. With marshmallows, because what are we? Animals?” She managed to scoff out a laugh. Then she let herself slip off the bed and grabbed an extra blanket as she followed Matt to the kitchen. Sure, it was a weird conversation to have, but they were both adults, and… he was all she had. Besides, it wasn’t the first time she’d talked to him about uncomfortable things.

She was the one he went to whenever her heart got broken or her sort-of friends made a passing comment that upset her just because she wasn’t like them. She didn’t have prom, she didn’t get high with friends, she didn’t have her first kiss during a game of spin the bottle. She had training and wars and a family to find. Matt was always there.

“Is that his shirt?”

“Yeah. I didn’t wanna wear the same one from yesterday.”

He nodded. “So what’s going on?” he asked as he stirred the milk.

She burrowed herself with the blanket and rested her head on the table. “We were talking and he mentioned that he’s had sex and I don’t know why but it bothers me. Everything got awkward. And I can’t tell if we went on a date or not.”

Matt sighed and stirred in the chocolate. “Katie, you’re gonna have to explain this from the beginning because I need to know the context behind this.”

She groaned and looked at him as he grabbed two mugs and continued to stir. “Um, okay. So obviously we drank.” Matt nodded. “And we can’t remember much, but when we woke up….” She trailed off uncertain how to continue. It was just so weird to talk to Matt about this because he knew them both. This wasn’t a faceless stranger Pidge was mentioning. It was Hunk.

He served the chocolate and sat down beside her. “Did you sleep together?” he asked gently. Enough to show he wasn’t teasing, and that he wouldn’t hold it against her either.

“No. No we didn’t, I know that for sure. But I guess he thought maybe we had so he was freaking out. I know we hadn’t because… well I didn’t feel different. Don’t people usually feel it when something happens?”

“I think that depends on a few factors….” It was Matt’s turn to blush. “Okay. So I take it you haven’t done anything with anyone?” She shook her head and hid her face with her drink. “I’d expect you would know the morning after. Especially if it was a drunk thing, not… planned. There’s a lot of… foreplay-”

“Please stop talking.”

“Oh thank God. I’m up for us being open with each other, but I didn’t want to give you The Talk.” Pidge grimaced and waved her hand for him to continue. “Anyway, yeah, in your case, I’d expect you’d have known if anything happened.” He snorted. “Unless he’s just that small.”

“Oh my God.”

“I’m joking! Anyway, then what happened?”

“I just assured him nothing happened, he asked if I’ve ever… you know. And I said no. Then I asked him.”

“And he said yes.”

“He explained.”

“Oh no.”

Pidge nodded and ran a hand through her hair. “He said he was in a bad place the first time. The girl was manipulative or something and he was just really hung up on her. I don’t know how many times or anything. But he said the second was with a stranger and he didn’t really want to, but he went with it and felt bad for a long time.” She sighed. “It bothered me. Knowing that some shitty girls know him that way. They didn’t deserve him.”

“That’s jealousy. Also, maybe the fact that he’s done it at all bothers you because you haven’t. Face it, Pidge. You’re a romantic.” She frowned and stared at Matt in confusion. “You wanted to be his first. First off, those experiences really don’t sound fun or healthy at all. I’m pretty sure those….” His face got solemn. “If he was coerced into those it’s basically abuse.” Pidge’s heart clenched and suddenly her own feeble jealousy didn’t even matter. Matt was right. It was no wonder Hunk seemed so jumpy. “And second, you can’t let the fact that he’s done that already, coerced or not, affect whatever relationship happens or doesn’t happen between you two. You weren’t even around him for those times. For all he knew, you would never come back into his life. People put a lot of pressure on sex meaning something huge, but it doesn’t have to and it doesn’t always mean anything. Don’t be put off by it. And don’t feel like you have to catch up either.”

“I don’t. I guess I just… felt bothered by the fact that he’s done it. But you’re right, it’s not like I was even around. It’s not like he likes me back either. Do you… really think he was forced into it?”

“Pressured mentally or emotionally. Especially if it had the toll he said it did. Hunk’s a good guy, Pidge. And you know that.” She nodded. “I know he’s not the type to sleep around for shits and giggles. He’s not the type to sleep with just anyone. Not that there’s a problem with that, I’m just saying….” She nodded and he nudged her. “So you mentioned a maybe date?”

She bit her lip and told him about the movie and the food and the ice cream in his car. “Like I said, it was a little awkward at first, and really tense. Then it went back to normal. It sounds like a date, but what if it was just a friend thing, you know? Friends go to movies and to eat.” She dipped her finger into her mug to swipe off some leftover chocolate at the bottom.

Matt stretched and nodded. “Yeah. Okay, personally, I think he likes you. And it does sound like a date. I think maybe you both wanted it to be and you’re both freaked out to say it aloud. I don’t know if it’s because you’re scared the other won’t feel the same or if you just don’t want to mess up your friendship after finding each other, but yeah. My philosophy however, is that it’s not a date if it’s not clarified with the other. Saves you from lots of embarrassment.” She huffed and brought her knees up on the chair. “You could always ask him you know?”

“I don’t have much to go off of. I can’t pick up any signs that he likes me.”

Matt snorted and counted off on his fingers. “Okay, let’s see, he’s gotten drunk with you like twice and fed you after it. Didn’t try to feel you up which gives him major points in my book- just saying. He made you an entire Christmas dinner and decorated the place. He’d planned the whole thing out with me. He lets you fall asleep on him in movies, on the couch, apparently at his place too!” Pidge blushed and placed her hands on her cheeks. “He stops by every day after work and stays until nearly three in the morning! Yeah, I can hear you two laughing. And you don’t notice how he looks at you when he first sees you because you’re busy fidgeting and trying to hide your blush.”

“Shut up!” She hid her face completely then peeked through her fingers. “What do you mean?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Oh boy.” He stood and took the mugs to the sink without responding. “You know, I do realize you’re an adult now, Katie. I figured you get drunk and go on dates and do what most people your age do. You don’t have to feel bad if you talk to me about it or try to hide it. Yeah, it’s a little weird to talk about sex with your big brother, believe me I get it. It’s a little unsettling talking about it with my little sister. But we’re all we’ve got. And I’m not going to hold anything against you, ever. I’m here for you no matter what. Okay?” Pidge nodded and stood up with her blanket draped over her. She waddled over to him and wrapped her arms around him. “I love you, Pidge.”

“Love you too, Matt. Thank you.” She stayed there for a moment, hugging her brother, feeling incredibly grateful for him. She didn’t know what she would’ve done if she hadn’t found him. She can never forget that terrible sinking feeling, the hopelessness and pain that she felt when she thought she was too late. When she thought she’d lost him forever. She hugged him a little tighter to remind herself he was real; he was okay. “I’m going to bed. Thank for talking with me.” She gave him a fist bump as she pulled away.

“Night, Pidge.”

–

Pidge decided to stop by the bakery that Wednesday. Hunk had been so exhausted after work on Tuesday, that Pidge told him to go home instead of stopping by the apartment again. The bakery had many cakes to get done by the end of the week.

She could smell the comforting scent of chocolate and vanilla and merengue frosting. She saw many customers looking at the simpler cakes for last minutes orders, people looking in as tourists in total awe by the intricate cakes. She went up to the register and smiled at the guy taking orders.

“Hey, is Hunk back there?”

“Sorry miss, the head chef can’t come out today. Though I can answer any question you might have.”

She shook her head and smiled. “Thanks, but it’s… um, is he getting a lunch hour?”

“That depends on how ahead of schedule he gets…. Um, I can let him know you’re here, but I can’t promise he’ll be able to come out.”

“It’s fine, I can wait for his lunch hour. Or just come back before closing.” She ran a hand through her hair and cleared her throat. “Thanks.”

She left the bakery quickly. What was she thinking? He was working. He was insanely busy.

But ever since Matt pointed out the emotional toil Hunk’s experiences had left him with, she’d been wanting to talk to him. To clarify. To tell him he wasn’t alone. To tell him she’d experienced the similar things when boys tried to touch her during cuddles or tried to get her drunk to “loosen her up.”

She knew they were both strong people. They’d piloted lions, fought in wars, had gone through hell and made it out alive. Still, somehow humans managed to fuck them over more than any Galra could. They weren’t supposed to keep fighting on Earth. But now it wasn’t evil alien emperors trying to hurt them… it was humans. And that made things so much harder because while they could tell a Galra was evil, you couldn’t always tell a person was. And the body either freezes, fights, or flees.

Pidge had worked hard to not berate herself for freezing. She couldn’t think of anything else to do. The shock of some stupid boy managing to get past her defenses better than a fucking Galra had shocked her into stillness and silence. And then she fought. And then she fled.

She wanted to tell Hunk it wasn’t his fault. She wanted to tell him that she understood. That just because they’d been in war didn’t make them invincible. She just…. She wanted to be there for him now that she was there.

Still, she’d stuffed that experience to the very back of her mind and digging it back up now made her feel anxious. She’d been in therapy for PTSD in regards to the war thanks to the Garrison. Thankfully she had still been in therapy when that happened, so she was able to work through it with both Matt and the therapist’s help. Did Hunk have any of that? Was he even aware of the truth behind those experiences, or did he shrug it off because he was a guy? Even Pidge hadn’t realized it until Matt pointed it out.

Pidge walked around aimlessly trying to get her thoughts together.

She returned just before closing and managed to get Hunk’s attention. He brightened and let her in while he finished cleaning up a bit.

“I was just about to head over to your place. What’s up? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said with a smile. She looked around where the other chefs were finishing up their areas and waving goodbye. “I was actually wondering if we could talk?”

Hunk frowned and put his rag down. “Of course…. What is it?”

She looked at him and wondered if she was doing the right thing there. Was it right for her to bring up something he probably hadn’t mulled over? To shed light on something he probably wasn’t even aware of? Maybe not…. But it would be worse if she kept it to herself. If she didn’t dispel the misconception. She thought about his expression when he asked if he’d done anything. How he’d thought he fucked up again. But he never had. It had never been his fault. It was eating at him even if he didn’t know it, and Pidge couldn’t let that continue.

“Pidge?” Hunk looked worried now, nearing her.

“Um…. I just…. You seemed really tense at first when we went to go see the movie. I was wondering why. Did it… have anything to do with how we woke up?”

Hunk’s expression fell and he returned to cleaning. “Um…. I mean…. Sort of? It’s just, I couldn’t remember a lot, and you seemed uncomfortable too, so I thought… maybe I’d done something and you just didn’t want to tell me. And I freaked out because you’re my best friend, and if I hurt you-”

“You didn’t. You didn’t do anything to me. Hunk, you are a good person.” He smiled at her and nodded as he rinsed out his rag. “Is this… about the other girls?”

Hunk turned to her and frowned again. “The ones I mentioned? No, not really…. I just… I fucked up then. I did that out of loneliness and stupidity. I promised myself if I ever did anything with anyone it would mean something. And I wouldn’t feel like crap because of it.”

This was her in. This was when she could explain. “Those weren’t your fault, Hunk,” she whispered. “Those girls…. They forced you to do those things by exploiting your loneliness. You said it yourself, you… you got manipulated and-”

“Hey,” Hunk said, taking her hand. “Calm down. You’re shaking.”

“It happened to me too.”

There was a long pause before Hunk managed to ask, “What?”

Pidge let herself plop onto the floor and just like that it came tumbling out. Her frustration, her struggle, her experience. She’d started to cry but whether it was because of the memories or the frustration, she wasn’t sure. “It wasn’t you, Hunk. You know that, don’t you? It doesn’t make you weak or- or-”

“Pidge, come here.” Hunk pulled her against him and took her hands. “I know. I know, I do. I did talk to someone. They told me the same. But it’s not necessarily fun to bring it into a conversation, is it?” He squeezed her hands and smiled. “Thank you for talking to me about it, though. It means a lot. And I’m glad you felt you could trust me with yours. Hey.” He touched her chin gently, and she looked up at him. “I don’t think you’re weak either. You’re the strongest girl I know.” She smiled weakly. “We’re survivors in so many ways, aren’t we?”

She chuckled and nodded. “When do we get a break?”

“Honestly? I feel like I catch a break whenever I’m with you.” She met his eyes and felt a blush fill her cheeks. “You’re my best friend, Pidge.” She nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show. He sees her as only a friend. That was fine. “Here, I should get you home. It’s almost one in the morning.”

The ride back felt oddly light. She felt like she’d lifted a weight she hadn’t even known she was carrying. And Hunk seemed much bubblier than he had since New Year’s. His smile was wider. And Pidge found herself laughing harder at everything. There were many types of battles in life. Some literal and some not so much. Pidge had considered herself a survivor. But that night, in the car with Hunk as they kept laughing and talking past two in the morning in the parking lot of Matt’s apartment complex, was the first time she’d actually felt the strength of a survivor.

Click Here for Ch. 4