#pr: the pros and cons of breathing

[edens-pen]

"i find myself running home to your sweet nothings"

summary | it’s always a rough day for katsuki. hero rankings and PR nightmares every time he opens his mouth. but he gets to come home to you

pairing | bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

word count | 840

warning | soft!domestic katsuki, fluff.

a/n | this is very literally based off sweet nothings by taylor swift, so you can listen if you want the full experience. also, i haven't posted in two months, so i'm sorry if this sucks. <3

[ 18+ | minors, blank, ageless blogs dni ]

—

katsuki drops his bracers at the door with a heavy sigh. he's only just got his boots off and tucked in the corner, when he hears your voice calling him from the kitchen.

"'suki?"

he feels the smile pulling at his lips entirely unbidden.

the soft notes of that song that's been stuck in your head (and by extension, his) plays from the speaker in the corner.

"hey honey," you smile, leaning up to give him a kiss when he's in range.

he'll never be able to explain how that title makes his heart clench. he couldn't verbalize how every title he's obtained has not mattered until you gave him that one. pro-hero, number 2, explosive, dynamight.

your title feels so intimate on your lips, reducing him to the man who would fall at his knees for you.

not a pro-hero or number 2. not a ticking time bomb or a hot-head.

just your honey. your husband. yours, yours, yours.

"how was your day?" you ask, still stirring the pot as you turn the stove down.

"it was alright," he mumbles. in truth his day was rough, and he's not ready to talk about it, and he knows you can tell by the way you reach your free hand out to swipe your fingers along his cheek.

you smile up at him, pinching his cheek. "you wanna wash up? dinner's almost done." when he nods slowly, closing his eyes against the feelings of your fingers, you give him a little laugh.

in the bathroom, he works with the skin care products you left on his side of the counter, the dry winter air has been harsh on his quirk and his skin.

he thinks back to the agency, to the hero rankings, to the disapproving stares of civilians when he lets out loud curses and swears. the scolding he received from his manager today. the article comparing his pros and cons against the number 1 pro hero deku.

the water runs over his chest as he tilts his face into the stream, still trying to catch his breath from the incredibly long week he's had.

by the time he's toweled off and dressed in his sweats, the tension has worked it's way up into his back and across his shoulders.

"katsu?" your voice rings out and he's immediately following the sound back to the front door. he snorts when he sees you trying to push his bracers into the corner near his shoes. "how the hell do you put these things on for hours at a time? oh my god."

bakugo only laughs when he picks up both bracers with ease, your shocked gasp ringing out in the hallway.

"you're so strong, katsuki."

and that's it. your praise comes so easy. the fantastic feats that he performs still awe you. even something as simple as his above average strength elicits cheer from you.

it doesn't matter that he does it everyday, or that it's expected of him, you treat every act like it's the most incredible thing you've ever seen. and bakugo tries to fight the blush creeping up on his cheeks when you say these things.

even after all these years, he hasn't gotten used to your praise.

you're quickly setting a plate in front of him, taking the seat right next to him. recounting the events of your day, catching your boyfriend up on your workplace drama, and your recent purchases is enough to take you both through dinner.

by the time you've got him laid on the couch, your favorite candle is lit in the middle of the coffee table, and you two are talking softly.

his head rests on your chest, his ear pressed right over your heart. your fingers work softly against the ache in his shoulder, somehow finding the right spots to touch. these are nights when he needs you to take him down and you always do so with ease. he groans softly at the tender strength in your touch.

"i like the way you sound."

and there you go again. how do you split him open with a just a few words?

"its so pretty. especially when you talk, and when you laugh, i think that's my favorite sound."

you're calling him pretty. like his body isn't a fucking live wire ready to go off when he sweats. like the natural production of his glands don't cause explosions. like people aren't out there wondering if he should be a villain because of the force of his quirk.

of course the power thrumming through his veins is nothing compared to you. to the person he is when he's resting between your legs, letting you pet and coo at him until he's pliant and soft.

you bathe him in compliments, your adoration of him washes the shitty week off his skin and coats him in a thick layer of your love.

his prickly edges become rounded and soft against your gentle touch. refining him to be composed entirely of your sweet nothings.

—

[ninyard]

I’ve started getting into running lately (I tell everyone it’s cause my brothers a runner but in reality my decision was heavily influenced by Neil…) and I can imagine Neil encountering another runner like one of the nut job ones who eats sleeps and breathes running and Neil just being so put off by it. They’d be like what shoes are you wearing? I rotate between my hoka challengers and speed goats and my brooks. I find the speed goats are better for harder more technical runs but the challengers are perfect for more level trail. I use gels for fuel and drink a litre of flat coke before every run. My pr for a km is 5:23. And Neil would just be staring at them like wtf??? But then what’s that I see?? It’s Kevin Day with insane opinions on running fuel!! Neil leaves them standing on the side of the road talking about gels vs gummy candy for fuel and the pros and cons of different shoes. Kevin would absolutely be one of those assholes who runs shirtless. Kevin would talk Neil into signing up for a race and before hand people would be asking Neil questions about his running and he’d be like idk bro I just work here and then he’d absolutely obliterate them first place course record with Kevin close behind in character pissed off because Neil barely even tried and could’ve done better if he wanted to.

Anyways I have a completely normal level of interest in both running and the all for the game series by Nora Sakavic I promise

Kevin is definitely one of those guys that runs shirtless but wears one of those vests with weights in them or something

But he’s also way slower than Neil. He has the advantage of longer legs so he can take bigger steps but if he’s doing a sprint with Neil trust he’s losing by a long shot. Like Kevin convincing Neil to do a race, and being like “okay, so we have to train for it! It’s going to be really tough!’ Meanwhile Neil just Shows Up and ends up waiting for ages for Kevin at the finish line.

[red-nite-mare]

Hungry

Dean shut off the fuzzy motel TV. The red glow of the cheap alarm clock was the only light in the room. 2:37AM. Dad still hadn’t come back, but Dean was too tired to bring himself to care. Sam had gone to bed hours earlier, after finishing up with his homework. Dean’s stomach growled. Dad seemed to forget that Dean had a teenager’s appetite, and barely left enough food to even feed eleven-year-old Sam. He contemplated sneaking out to try and pick something out of the crappy old vending machine down the hall. Knowing his luck, Dad would show up as he stepped out the door.

He shifted his position on the couch, the stiff metal springs poking through the upholstery. Sam’s breathing was deep and even, the occasional gentle snore sneaking its way through. The sound was soothing, and almost lulled him to sleep. 2:54AM. Dean’s stomach growled again, louder this time. This time, hunger pangs came with it. John had been gone almost two days, and he hadn’t had any spare cash to leave for groceries. No check ins since he’d gone off, and Dean had already left message on both of his cells. Dean lay awake, weighing the pros and cons of calling Bobby or Pastor Jim. He knew he’d get in trouble if he and Sam weren’t there when John got back, though. A third gurgle erupted from his midsection. 3:12AM. Screw Dad, thought Dean, I’m no good to him if I die of starvation. He dug around in his knapsack until he found the card he was looking for. To anyone else, it would have been a regular business card for some stuffy FBI desk-jockey. For Dean, it was a lifeline.

Four rings. Then five. Dean’s heart sank as he thought Bobby wouldn’t pick up.

“Agent Willis. This better be an emergency.” Dean could hear the irritation in Bobby’s voice. He hesitated.

“Hello? You call me during these unholy hours an-”

“Hi Bobby... It’s Dean. I’m alright, Sam too.”

“Is it John? Is he alright? Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” The silence from the other end of the line scared Dean. Finally, Bobby let out a long sigh.

“How long has he been gone?”

“It’ll be two days in about 5 hours.”

“He’s been gone longer than that before, what exactly is the pr-” Dean’s stomach cut Bobby off with another strangled gurgle, that sounded eerily similar to an impression of an orca.

“Where are you?” Bobby’s voice was sharp, and Dean was wondered for a moment if he was about to get a hiding. But he rattled off the address of the motel printed on the top of the branded stationery. Bobby promised to be there “soon,” and hung up before Dean could say anything else.

At 4:26AM, Bobby was at their door. With him was a bag of jerky, chips, and a gas station slurpee the size of Dean’s head, all of which he handed to the teen with only a single word.

“Eat.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He devoured everything in the time it took Bobby to load up the boys’ duffel bags and a still-sleeping Sam into the back of an old station wagon. His silence scared Dean. John only moved the way Bobby was when he was pissed. Finally, Bobby picked up his cell and called John twice, once for each number, and left the same message both times.

“It’s Bobby. I’ve got the boys. You know where to find me.” He left the same message scribbled on the notepad next to the phone, and then they left. With his hunger satisfied, Dean was asleep before they reached the highway.

[gadgetrevive]

Reviving Your Device: Is It Worth Putting a New Battery in an Old iPad?Reviving Your Device: Is It Worth Putting a New Battery in an Old iPad? Should You Invest in a New Battery for Your Aging iPad? A Comprehensive Guide to Making the Best Decision In today's fast-paced world, our gadgets are our constant companions, helping us stay connected, entertained, nad productive. The iPad, with its versatility and reliability, has become an indispensible tool for many. However, as your iPad ages, yuo might notice that its battery life isn't what it used to be. This decline in battery performance can lead you to ponder an important question: is it worth putting a new battery in an old iPad? In this in-depth guide, we'll explore the factors that influence this decision, the benefits and drawbacks of replacing your iPad's battery, and why Gadget Kings PRS is your go-to service for battery replacement. Understanding teh Decline: Why iPad Batteries Wear Out Before diving into whether its worth replacing your iPad's battery, its crucial to understand why batteries degrade over time. iPads, like many other devices, use lithium-ion batteries. These batteries are favored for theyre efficiency and high energy density, but they are not immune to wear and tear. Here's a closer look at why your iPad's battery might be losing it's charge: 1. Charge Cycles A charge cycle is defined as one full discharge and recharge of the battery. OVer Over time, the capacity of a lithium-ion battery diminishes with each charge cycle. Most iPad batteries are rated for about 1000 charge cycles, after which there ability to hold a charge significantly decreases. 2. Aging and Chemical Reactions As a battery ages, the chemical reactions within it become less efficient. This natural aging process leads to a reduction in the battery's capacity and its ability to hold a charge. 3. Usage Patterns Heavy usage, such as gaming, video streaming, and running multiple applications simultaneously, can accelerate battery degradation. Similarly, frequent exposure to high temperatures can negatively impact battery health. 4. Software Updates Software updates can sometimes place additional demands on the battery, especially if the iPad's hardware is not optimized for the latest software. This can result in faster battery drain and reduced battery life. Weighing the Pros nad Cons: Should You Replace the Battery? When considering whether to replace your iPad's battery, it's important to weigh teh benefits and drawbacks. Here's a detailed examination of both sides to help you make an informed decision: Benefits of Replacing the Battery Preserved Data and Settings By replacing the battery, you can keep all your data, settings, and personalized configurations intact, avoiding the hassle of transferring information to a new device. Environmental Impact Opting for a battery replacement is a more environmentally friendly choice. It reduces electronic waste and the environmental impact associated with manufacturing new devices. Extended Device Life A new battery can breathe new life into your old iPad, extending its usability and delaying the need for a new purchase. If your iPad is otherwise in good condition, a battery replacement can significantly enhance its performance. Cost-Effective Solution Replacing the battery is often much cheaper than buying a new iPad. For a fraction of the cost of a new device, you can enjoy improved battery life and performance. Drawbacks of Replacing the Battery Age of the Device If your iPad is several years old, other components may also be nearing the end of there lifespan. In such cases, replacing the battery might only offer a temporary fix. Repair Costs While generally cost-effective, the repair cost can vary based on the model of your iPad and the availability of replacement batteries. its important to compare repair costs with the price of a new device. Potential Compatibility Issues Older iPads might face compatibility issues with the latest apps and software updates.

Even with a new battery, the overall performance might not meet your expectations. Factors to Consider Before Replacing the Battery To make an informed decision, consider the following factors: 1. Age and Condition of the iPad Assess the overall condition of your iPad. If it's in good physical condition and functions well aside form the battery issue, a replacement is worth considering. HOwever, if your iPad shows signs of significant wear and tear or other performance issues, it might be time for a new device. 2. Cost of Replacement Get a quote for the battery replacement cost. Compare this cost with the price of a new iPad. If the replacement cost is reasonable and significantly less than a new device, its a viable option. 3. YOur Usage Needs Evaluate your usage needs. If your iPad still meets your requirements for browsing, reading, streaming, and other activities, a battery replacement can restore its functionality. However, if you need a device for more intensive tasks taht your old iPad struggles with, upgrading to a new model might be a better choice. 4. Warranty and AppleCare Check if your iPad is still under warranty or covered by AppleCare. IF it is, is, you might be eligible for a free or discounted battery replacement. This can make the decision easier and more cost-effective. 5. AVailability of Professional Repair Services Ensure that yuo have access to professional repair services like Gadget Kings PRS. Experienced technicians can replace the battery safely and efficiently, ensuring taht you're iPad continues to perform optimally. Steps to Replace Your iPad's Battery If you've decided that replacing the battery is the best option, here's a step-by-step guide too to the process: 1. Backup Your Data Before any repair, its essential to back up your data to avoid any potential data loss. You can use iCloud or iTunes to create a backup of your iPad. 2. Find a Reputable Repair Service Choose a reputable repair service like Gadget Kings PRS. Look for experienced technicians who use high-quality replacement parts and offer a warranty on there work. 3. GEt a Quote Request a quote for the battery replacement. Ensure taht the cost includes the price of the battery and any labor charges. 4. SChedule the Repair Schedule a convenient time for the repair. Many repair services offer quick turnaround times, so you won't be without your device for long. 5. Post-Repair Care After the battery replacement, follow any care instructions provided by the repair service. THis might include initial charging guidelines and tips for maintaining battery health. The Role of Gadget Kings PRS in Your Battery Replacement Gadget Kings PRS is your trusted partner for iPad repairs, including battery replacements. Here's why you should choose them for your battery replacement needs: 1. Expert Technicians Gadget Kings PRS employs skilled technicians with extensive experiance in iPad repairs. They can efficiently and safely replace your iPad's battery, ensuring optimal performance. 2. HIgh-Quality Parts Using high-quality replacement parts is crucial for the longevity and performance of your repaired iPad. Gadget Kings PRS uses only the best batteries to ensure that your device functions like new. 3. Affordable Pricing Battery replacement is often more affordable than buying a new iPad. Gadget Kings PRS offers competitive pricing, making high-quality repairs accessible and budget-friendly. 4. Quick Turnaround Understanding the importance of your iPad in your daily life, Gadget Kings PRS prioritizes quick turnaround times. You can have your device repaired and back in your hands promptly. 5. Excellent Customer Service So, if youre experiencing battery issues with your iPad, dont rush into buying a new device just yet. Consider the benefits of a battery replacement, consult the experts at Gadget Kings PRS, and make a decision taht maximizes the value and longevity of your trusted companion. WIth the right care and maintenance, your iPad can continue to serve you well for years to come.

Conclusion For more information about theyre services, visit Gadget Kings PRS. Customer satisfaction is a top priority at Gadget Kings PRS. there friendly and knowledgeable staff are always ready to assist you, answer your questions, and provide guidence on maintaining your iPad. By understanding the reasons behind battery degradation and considering the factors outlined in this guide, you can make an informed decision that best suits your needs. And when it comes to professional and reliable battery replacement services, Gadget Kings PRS is your go-to choice, offering expert repairs, high-quality parts, and excellent customer service. Deciding whether to replace the battery in your old iPad depends on several factors, factors, including the age and condition of your device, teh cost of replacement, and your personal usage needs. While a new battery can extend the life of your iPad and enhance its performance, performance, its essential to weigh the benefits and drawbacks carefully.

[alyssamonah]

How to Find the Local Pros for Kitchen Cabinet Refacing Near Me?

Kitchen cabinet refacing can breathe new life into your kitchen space without the need for a full renovation. It's a cost-effective and eco-friendly way to give your kitchen a fresh and updated look. However, to ensure a successful cabinet refacing project, you'll need the expertise of local professionals who can do the job right. In this guide, we'll walk you through the steps to find the best local pros for kitchen cabinet refacing near you.

Start with a Local Search

Begin your search by using popular search engines or business directories. Type in keywords like "kitchen cabinet refacing near me" or "local cabinet refacing professionals." It will generate a list of businesses in your area that specialize in cabinet refacing.

Check Online Reviews

Online reviews can provide valuable insights into the quality of service provided by local professionals. Look for reviews on websites like Yelp, Google My Business, and Angie's List. Pay attention to both positive and negative feedback to get a balanced view.

Pro Tip: When reading reviews, focus on factors that matter most to you, such as the quality of work, punctuality, professionalism, and communication.

Ask for Recommendations

Don't underestimate the power of word-of-mouth recommendations. Ask friends, family members, neighbours, and coworkers if they've had their cabinets refaced recently and if they can recommend a local professional.

Visit Home Improvement Stores

Local home improvement stores often have bulletin boards or information about local contractors and professionals. Swing by these stores and see if there are any flyers or business cards from cabinet refacing experts.

Explore Social Media

Social media platforms like Facebook and Instagram can be useful for finding local professionals. Join local community groups or home improvement forums and ask for recommendations from fellow members.

Check Licensing and Insurance

Once you've identified a few potential pros, it's essential to verify their credentials. Check if they are licensed and insured. It ensures they have the necessary qualifications and coverage in case of accidents.

Request References

Don't hesitate to ask potential professionals for references from past clients. Contact these references to inquire about their experiences with the cabinet refacing expert. Ask about the quality of work, adherence to schedules, and overall satisfaction.

Compare Multiple Quotes

Contact at least three different professionals to get quotes for your cabinet refacing project. Be clear about your requirements and expectations. Comparing quotes will help you determine a reasonable price range for the service.

Discuss Materials and Design Options

Engage in detailed discussions with each professional about the materials they use and the design options available. Ask about the pros and cons of different materials and inquire if they can provide custom solutions to match your kitchen's aesthetics.

Inquire About the Timeline

Ask about the expected timeline for the project. Professionals should be able to provide you with a clear estimate of how long the cabinet refacing process will take, from start to finish.

Get a Written Contract

Before starting the project, ensure you have a written contract that outlines all the details, including the scope of work, materials to be used, project timeline, and costs. Read the contract carefully and ask for clarification if needed.

Check for Warranties

Reputable professionals often offer warranties on their work and materials. Make sure to understand the terms of the warranty and keep all related documentation in case you need it in the future.

Communicate Your Expectations

Effective communication is crucial to a successful cabinet refacing project. Clearly communicate your expectations, and don't hesitate to ask questions or seek updates throughout the project.

Monitor the Work

While the professionals work on your cabinet resurfacing project, periodically check the progress to ensure it aligns with your expectations and the agreed-upon plan.

Pay Attention to Clean-Up

After the project is complete, make sure the professionals clean up the work area thoroughly. You shouldn't be left with a mess to clean up.

Leave a Review

Once the project is successfully completed, consider leaving a review to help others in your community find reliable local pros for cabinet refacing.

Conclusion

Finding the right local professionals for your kitchen cabinet refacing project near you requires a bit of research and due diligence. Following the steps outlined in this guide can increase your chances of selecting a skilled and trustworthy expert to transform your kitchen and enhance its beauty and functionality. Remember that investing time in finding the right professionals can lead to a satisfying and rewarding cabinet-refacing experience.

[riveires]

the pros and cons of breathing

@twentysixdegrees

JOOHYUK

the sheets are too scratchy, his pillow is too hard. maybe he should have heeded his older sister’s advice about investing in high quality sleep materials. or, maybe it’s because joonho’s desk light had still been on until about thirty minutes ago? but that’d never really been a problem before. joohyuk could really sleep anywhere if he was tired enough–so maybe he simply wasn’t tired enough. if that’s the case, then he finds himself going stir crazy in his bed and he turns on his side towards joonho.

“hhhhhey. joooooonho.” blinking a few times, he frowns when his roommate doesn’t respond right away. “i know you’re not asleep yet–no way you’re asleep yet–” and he’s soon rewarded with a small, acknowledging, sound.

with that in mind, joohyuk flings his covers off of his body, tugging one of the sheet corners out of his basketball shorts (how’d that even happen?). joohyuk pads over to joonho quietly, the gap between their beds easily covered in about 4 steps.

“my mattress is slumpy.” sitting down on the very edge of joonho’s bed, joohyuk finds himself quickly losing his courage. “i’ll put in a maintenance request tomorrow but can i just…?”

my bed isn’t comfortable without you.

JOONHO

Statistically speaking, how the next morning will go splits down 50-50 by the outcomes: will or won’tㅡpassing this goddamn test that is. On one hand, the painfully borderline B- should provide enough willpower to push for the odds to turn in his favor. But an hour in, the digits flipping to a late 11:30 see to eyes glazed over and a head bobbing barely inches above high water, swamped by formulas Joonho’s long given up on. The switch clicks off. Here’s to another day done, at lastㅡ

Until it isn’t

He thinks Joohyuk would beg to differㅡthat technically, it’s never really over until it has to be, like it’s some intangible notion out of human reach, and day isn’t quite day when the sun’s long sunk below the waves for full moon glory. That the night is still young. And yet it’s just thatㅡan assumption. There’s no telling what goes on in his head for sure.

But what he does know is this: the thoughts that bloom bright in the back of his own mind all hummingbird-frenzy, the palpable nearness of Joohyuk even when he’s not there, and the faint thud deep in the swell of his chest when he is. With his heart in his throat, he’s careful to not make a sound. Not right now, anyway. And thenㅡ

“What…?” Joonho shifts to glance at him over his shoulder, a slow show of “act natural.” Thud. Thud. He’s suddenly thankful for the dark, where the other boy can’t see him considering two sides of the coin.

50-50. Will, or won’t.

A sigh. Quiet surrender. “Fine.” Reluctance is a hesitant motion, where he gives just the tiniest bit of space, a third of the second pillow,  and then finally half of the whole bed. He lifts up the blanket. Thud, thud, thud.

“Get in here.” 

JOOHYUK

people measure their time in minutes or seconds, or even in heartbeats if you’re feeling romantic, but right now the only way he manages to measure is by the slow rise of blood to his face. it flushed around his collarbones when he made the decision to get out of bed. it rose up to his neck when he asked, and in that almost immeasurable time between his last syllable and joonho’s answer, the blush has risen almost to his ears. next time don’t even take the chance, he scolds inside his head before the “fine” reaches him properly. he’s almost ready to flee the scene, to jokingly complain about joonho’s own mattress (’maybe we both should file for new ones–’) until the weight of his answer fully settles.

he feels joonho shifting before he turns around to see. and then he’s relaxing his muscles–the ones that freeze up when you’re in situation as close to fight or flight as you can get in in a shared dorm room with one of your oldest friends.

yeah, it sounds just as ridiculous to him, too.

but it’s what he’s working with, and joohyuk is incredibly conscious of this when he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and starts to shuffle his way into the already warm covers, facing joonho (because he’s feeling ballsy). joohyuk pulls the covers up above his shoulders, shifting closer to joonho in the process. he’s incredibly aware of the fact that they’re two fully-sized college students shoved into a bed meant for one.

“can’t believe you almost left me in the cold.” he injects a tinge of drama into his voice. he wears the shield well, and it’s never failed him before. “in the cold with a lumpy mattress.” but he’s not a heathen–joohyuk keeps his voice low so as to not offend the tranquility of the night. “thanks though. i hope i wasn’t too distracting while you were studying i…just couldn’t seem to fall asleep.”

he continues to work the angle of the malformed mattress because the tossing and turning was definitely due to those reasons. they certainly didn’t have anything to do with the missing equation of a familiar body, or the slow crescendo of longing that starts somewhere close to his head and ends in his head. “is tonight a sleep immediately night or a talk then drift night?” apparently, those factors were strong enough to prompt a rebellion; logic against some sappy, whiny, need. and joohyuk was always shit with his impulse control. “cause if it’s a talk and drift, why didn’t you go out on that second date with…what’s her face?”

case and point.

JOONHO

“I know."

It’s an answer meant to match him, exasperated and droll to Joohyuk’s overdone means to appear moving. Double entendre for: can’t believe I hadn’t, sitting at the tip of his tongue, as he lays still, arms crossed. Minutes to midnight with the lights off, and no easing into the swell of slumber. Instead, this feels more like he’s dreaming with his eyes wide open. Low brows, the high slope of his nose, mouth softenedㅡall the makings of a boy that he’s known for more than half his life.

One that doesn’t seem ready to fall asleep either.

"Well,” begins with a huff, and it’s probably the most amused he’s sounded all evening, but stops short. It’s a turn he hadn’t seen coming.

“You mean Shirin?”

Canton born and raised, Yale-bound for a future Ph.D in economics. Or something. Something like that. Shirin. He fills the blanks in memory with details that had made for a better impression. In the span of a 90 minutes, she’d revealed a knack for storytellingㅡthe backwoods of some  obscure Midwest suburb to downtown London in a span of breaths, to the garlic-and-lemon-splashed sauté on their plates, to all the lessons to be learned from everything and nothing. At one point, he’d even glanced at her hands, then folding the napkin into a triangle, had become fully convinced right there she could make entire mountains out of the damn thing if she wanted to.

But more than that,  Joonho had been compelled to envy. Envious of how she takes to language so effortlessly, lets it tail her rather than the other way around. For the longest time, he thought he could do without—until then. When every tangent over lunch sent him back to the receding form of another through the doorway earlier that morning. Until now, on his side, close but not close enough to break the even distance. A dip in the bed makes for a small valley. Words fail to float, follow free. Little rivers to nowhere.

“I…got busy, I guess. Dunno.” A shrug, as if he’s finally come around to the admission. (But to what?) His cheek lifts to rest against the bend of his own elbow. There’s something different about the way he speaks now, tinged careful. “What about you and that other girl?”

JOOHYUK

Joohyuk’s always been a needy sort of person, ever since they were young. It was cute as a little kid, over-excited and bad at keeping his mouth shut. Looking back on it, he doesn’t understand how Joonho stuck it out with him, all the way up until he’d moved. He’s leveled out considerably, but he knows some people s still find him to be a little much.

Sometimes he feels a little bad, even now. It feels like Joohyuk’s always asking favors from Joonho. He’s been comforting since they were young, and Joohyuk’s always found him almost magnetic.

Comforting, magnetic. They’re some of the reasons why he always ends up so close.

It takes him a second. “Huh?” His first reaction is confusion, until he thinks back on his most recent date. His face morphs, mouth forming a small ‘o’ shape as he realizes. “Ángel.”

The former roommate of his current teammate, and unfortunately it was one of those instances of ‘Oh I have a friend who’s gay. I can set you up with him?’ By now Joohyuk is used to these sort of things. They’re well-meaning, and they really do come from a good place, but it’s still rooted in stereotypes. He’s not attracted to anyone and everyone, but something had compelled him to say ‘sure.’

Ángel was that old money sort of rich. They had more similarities than Joohyuk thought originally possible, given how different their backgrounds were, but not enough to inspire any real connection. He’d been a good listener, but was the type that only listened so he could one-up you with his next sentence. The worst part was that he probably didn’t mean to do it; he was probably trying to just seem impressive, but Joohyuk wasn’t interested in any of that by the third date. That’s some first date bull. And don’t even get him started on how picturesque his life seemed. Big house, lots of land, his was a family that had a professional photographer come to their home to take posed family pictures. Can’t relate.

Joohyuk can feel the covers shift the slightest, each breath moving Joonho’s shoulders and by extension, the blankets. “He wanted someone who was…like, gonna look at him with stars in their eyes. Constantly. It was exhausting to smile and nod at him so often. He was draining.”

And then, “I’m cold.”

Something compels him to keep talking, even though he knows he should probably quit it now before his mouth got him in trouble. “Unlike you.”

JOONHO

“Oh.” Only the smallest sound of surprise. "That Ángel. I’m sorry, man.“ Disappointment by now has dulled into something ritualistic, having and not wanted, wanting and not had. How many more names until they’d land upon the right one?

Joohyuk. Joohyuk. It’s not just a name anymore. It’s something bigger, brighter. In each other’s rooms, July moon glow, curtains dancing slow-motion under the quiet whirring of the fan. Promises between peals of laughter: swear on it, okay, we’re gonna do it, okay dude, okay, we will. Somehow all that summer heat managed to follow them from then to here. Or maybe it’s just him, under the spell of nostalgia and nostalgia alone. Nothing in the vein of the abstract he knows—formulas, unit-bound constants, theories of matter, a total wash. So what now.

“This sucks.” He’s on his back now, eyes to the ceiling, no fan in sight. Then a breathless laugh: “Maybe we’re not cut out for the people here. They’re too…” What’s the word? He has it, then doesn’t. Going, going, gone. Don’t chase what you can’t get back. “I don’t think it’s good to be with them for anything more.”

Homesick? Joonho’s hardly the type to catch something like that, but one look at him has him thinkingㅡfeelingㅡnonetheless. All those years until it hadn’t been.

But he should know better than anyone: thinking doesn’t get anyone anywhere. Not when there’s your hands, your anticipation, the pause before your first move.

Hovering, his head and shoulders cast a shadow over the other as he changes position. His expression is along the lines of disbelief, brows furrowing deep. “You have more than half the bed, Joohyuk.” But even then, despite then, he pulls the blanket close, his own body closer. His heart skips a beat and he has to fight the impulse to bury his face under the covers goddamnit, goddamnit.

“Christ.“  

JOOHYUK 

“It’s fine.” His eyes open, staring at the hand that’s settled near his face on the pillow. He pointedly avoids looking at Joonho. “He’s just another one, right? Another fling in the string of them.” And why is it that neither of them have found anyone even remotely close to being compatible enough? Joohyuk knows his faults, he’s tried dating based on opposite, based on similarities, based off of something as silly as zodiac signs, even. Nothing’s worked.

The girl before Ángel had broken up with him because she’d accused him of choosing Joonho over her. But that’s unfair, right? Joonho’s been there since day one. He shouldn’t need to choose, but if had to, it’d be Joonho without fail, every time.

Always.

“Sometimes, being here makes me homesick.” The admission comes as a surprise to even himself. He can’t properly decipher his feelings, right now isn’t a good time for trying to do so. He’s too vulnerable, Joonho is too close, and the night is too comforting. Joohyuk can feel himself slipping, sliding, and he should be worried about falling too far down but he can’t seem to muster up the care. It’s easier to swim deeper; sometimes it’s easier to just give in. “But that’s stupid, right? Cause you’re here. And you’re home.”

Nestling into the covers, he sighs, eyes closing to give himself a little extra push of courage. His hand snakes over Joonho’s waist, and they’re facing each other but he’s got his eyes closed. So this isn’t anything more than just mutual comfort. “Just because I have half the bed doesn’t mean I’m any warmer.” But he is. Where his arm touches the fabric of Joonho’s waist, it scorches. Where his hand curls, fingertips gently brushing against the small of Joonho’s back, he burns.

“But it’s okay, you’re warm. Why’re you so far away anyways? Quit acting like a stranger.”

Joohyuk makes the mistake of opening his eyes. His words are a lie. They’re entirely too close, nose almost brushing against Joonho’s. “We should date. You’re the only one that can handle my shit.” And I know how to make you happy.

He laughs quietly, nervously. Joonho looks so handsome under the filtered moonlight. “Kidding.”

JOONHO

Try, try again. If that isn’t the most common case of “been there, done that,” he can’t imagine what else could possibly compare.

But it doesn’t matter.

Where the other’s eyes open, his own close. Breathing in, counting out the pace of each exhale. The effect is calming, makes the fluttering in his stomach slow a little if not completely. Seoul is more vivid like this, painted with obvious care and affection. Childhood through the maze of alleyways. Memories of days longer than they are now. Or at least, they feel like that. Pure, unapologetic emotion, no matter which way he spins itㅡthe sprawl of the Atlantic on one side, the way Joohyuk reaches over to hold him on the other.

Shying away would’veㅡshould’veㅡbeen the first impulse. The instinctual panic. The racing of pulses. It had been like that, once. Now no longer. He moves to his touch, instead, the pull stemming not from the throws of gravity but from the center of his chest.

Proximity makes a good excuse for a change: that there’s nowhere else for his gaze to trail off to, but he keeps his constraint. Baby steps. Untilㅡ

“That’sㅡ” The first time anyone’s said that.

“The stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

What had he been undone with? A single syllable, or a single possibility?

“Whatever.” Unfolding his arms, he draws the covers up to his nose. “I’m going to sleep.”

Turns out it’s neither. Behind it all is just a single boy. From the butterflies that stir in his wake to the careful hands that hold both halves of his heart. And he doesn’t know even know it.

But Joonho’s smiling anyway, ear to ear. Hope is funny like that, funnier in the kind that comes with floating on cloud nine. Kidding, he’d said. I know, he’d thought after. Everything else in the state of the unspoken, set adrift, waiting. Still waiting.

For another day, then.

“You should too.”

JOOHYUK

The pull of sleep is tempting his eyes closed, coaxing his breathing into deeper pulls, slower exhales. It’s that floaty, weightless, state in between awake and asleep, where you can feel everything around you but it seems like you’re watching from afar. Funny how he’d been absolutely unable to fall asleep before, but now all it takes is a few minutes of teasing fondness, sappy confessions, and meanings between words. Joohyuk doesn’t so much reply to Joonho’s accusations of limited intelligence, as he rumbles out an acknowledging sound. Sticks and stones, and whatchamacallits. Too many words to get out properly.

Still, he feebly fights against the sleep that bleeds closer to his core, trying to fall asleep after Joonho does. It’s not so much a dominance thing rather than a nervousness that he’s going to say something silly, take a thought too far, or perhaps be too honest out loud. “Whatever,” he barely manages to echo out, the word low and drawling, as if his brain is winding down before it shuts off completely. “I’ll sleep, I’ll sleep.” His voice shifts closer to a whine, tired of trying to stay awake, tired of holding back, and most of all, tired of being this close but being unable to do anything more than this.

Seven billion people in the world and he knows that soulmates don’t necessarily have to be lovers. They can be best friends too. But with Joonho this close, Joohyuk doesn’t know where best friend ends and lover begins.

He voices his drifting train of thought in the vaguest way possible.

“You still love me though.”

And that will just have to do, for now.

[FIN] 

[piastrinorris]

The Buffer

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!Reader (no gendered terms/pronouns)

Genre: fluff, tiny little smut mention at the end

Word count: 5k

Summary: Chrissy just wants to play wingwoman. If only the two people in question weren't so clueless.

A/N: Writing Chrissy is so fun. I hope I've done her justice.

Being friends with most of the school newspaper had its perks and its penalties. Pro: you get all the hot gossip before it hits the shelves of the school store. Con: whenever there is a big scoop and they have to work through their lunch break, yours becomes far more lonely. Usually you can find someone to sit with, but today you just so happen to prefer your own company.

Coincidentally, today is the day Chrissy Cunningham decides to sit at your table. "Hi!" she beams, setting her tray down, sitting down and then offering her hand out to you. "You don't mind if I sit here, right?"

Eyes narrowing, you take her hand warily. You've never heard anything bad about her, but you wonder why now, in your senior year, would she finally extend the olive branch? "You already made the trek all the way out here," you muse, and she giggles.

"Yeah, it's not my table but I thought, it's been a minute since we last talked and since your friends aren't here, I figured I could keep you company!" You can't get a read on her. She's the human equivalent of sunshine.

"That's sweet of you," you smile. "Yeah, it's the one downside of being on the outskirts of the school paper team," you shrug, and Chrissy nods in understanding. "Normally I'd find someone else to hang with, but I dunno, something told me to just sit here anyway."

Chrissy's eyes widen. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, if you need some alone time I totally get that, I'm so sorry I assumed -"

"It's fine," you hold your hand out with a reassuring smile. "I'm actually glad you joined me."

She gasps exaggeratedly, pressing her palm to her chest and putting on a voice, "Who, li'l ol' me?!" You laugh, and she joins you. "Well, I would offer for you to sit with more of us, but some of the other girls are…"

"Say no more, I know how a lot of cheerleaders feel about me," you roll your eyes. "Nah, usually I'll go and sit with, like, the theatre kids, or those Hellfire boys, if I need a good book to read, they'll know."

"Oh my god, can I tell you something so bad?" She asks you with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth.

You look from side to side. "Bad, like… Like, scandalous or -?"

"Oh, no! Not at all! This is about me," she giggles. "Did you know that, up until a few weeks ago, I had no idea that Eddie the Fr… The one who plays Dungeons and Dragons," she quickly corrects herself before leaning in to whisper to you, "I had no idea that was Edward Munson from middle school."

"Girl," your eyes widen as you lean back and she holds her cheeks, laughing silently. "You mean to tell me you couldn't tell that Edward the metalhead became Eddie the metalhead?!"

"He had buzzed hair, I don't know!" She presses her fingers to her temples as her face cringes. "When he started talking about his band, it all came flooding back, and I felt so bad!" Her face starts to soften, though. She rests her elbow on the table and sits her chin on the palm of her hand, her fingers curling against her cheekbone. "He's kinda cute now, wouldn't you say?"

Of course she'd say that as you were taking a sip of your drink. Taken aback, your breath catches at just the wrong moment and you start sputtering and coughing. She grimaces, though you can tell she's trying really hard not to laugh. When you finally catch your breath, you say, "Can't say I've noticed any difference." 

That's not technically a lie. You liked Eddie in his buzzed phase. You liked him in his half-grown-out phase. You even liked him in his irons-his-hair-straight phase, though you're grateful that it looks far healthier now that he keeps it curled. And sure, maybe your heart skips a beat or two when he calls you over personally to sit with you, or points to an empty spot next to him (provided one of his "baby sheep" hasn't taken it already). So there's never been a difference to whether or not you'd thought him cute. But if Chrissy Cunningham is into him? Any shot you might have had if you'd had the confidence to do something about it is definitely out of the window.

And so you come to your conclusion. Clearly, Chrissy has seen that you and him are still somewhat friends, and clearly she wants you to play wingman. It'll sting, sure, but it's not like you were planning on making a move anytime soon.

"You don't think he is?" she asks with a slight frown. You're perplexed. Do you chase her off his scent, would that make things too obvious? Or do you encourage it, and risk her questioning your enthusiasm? Either way, the risk is there, and at least now you can live vicariously through her.

You shrug, "I mean, I didn't say that, he's just… I dunno. He's always been Eddie," you allow yourself a small, wistful smile for a few seconds, which is cut short by Chrissy noticing something behind you.

"Oh my god, shh-shh, there he i- Eddie!" The tonal change from being so hushed when she started talking to yelling and waving by the end hurt your ears. 

Tray full of food in hand, he saunters over to you both. "Well, hello to you both," he balances the tray in one hand while doing a funny salute-bow motion with the other. "To what am I owed this pleasure?'

"Well, we were just catching up, since someone was sitting here all alone," Chrissy starts with a pout, and Eddie frowns, turning to you.

"Well, hey, you know there's always room for you with us, right? I know the boys tend to… Get excited and forget other people exist, but you just gotta be just as loud," he explains, his head shaking slightly.

You giggle, "It's been fun, actually, just me and Chrissy here. She's real fun to be with." You didn't realise quite how much saying things like that would sting, but you're here now. Hopefully it'll get easier with time.

"You should come sit with us!" Chrissy pats the table at the spot next to you. You turn your gaze quickly to your own meal, poking at the parts you're yet to eat. You conveniently miss Eddie and Chrissy's silent conversation of eye flashes, tiny gestures and facial expressions.

Eventually Eddie caves and slides into the seat next to you. Chrissy waves her hand towards her, "No, no, come closer! I don't want to have to yell." Even when making her demands, she's adorable. He should be putty in her hands within seconds. Then your work will be done.

Eddie slides his chair over, so his leg barely grazes yours. If you lean even the slightest amount, you can feel the chain on his jeans press into you. "So, what hot topic are we catching up on, then?" he asks.

"I was -" Chrissy collapses into laughter, which makes both you and Eddie smile. There's that sting again. "I was just talking about yo- how I didn't know you were you from middle school!"

"I mean, can you believe." Eddie deadpans, looking at you while gesturing with his open palm to Chrissy.

"Even you said, didn't you!" Chrissy continues, now also talking to you. "You said even you knew he was the same guy from middle school, it was just me!"

You shake your head in disbelief. "I can't believe it's just the hair that fooled you! I remember you in middle school having to move your ponytail so you didn't sit on it! This doesn't even look half as long!" You gesture towards her hair, and she giggles even more.

"Yours doesn't seem to have changed much though," Eddie muses, mouth half-full of food as he points his fork at you. You hate that you don't even find that repulsive.

"Nah, I've pretty much looked the same since the age of six, just stretched out in certain places," you shake your head, to a chorus of laughter from the other two. "Except for the few months I was missing a chunk out of it because I tried to bleach that one part with toilet cleaner." The pair of them hiss through their teeth in sympathy.

"I can do you one better than that," Eddie smirks. "Though it's not my story, guy I met at the Hideout one time. He had tried to bleach his hair at home, was told to wrap it in plastic and heat it up. So he takes a grocery bag -"

Your hands fly up to your face in shock. "Not one that had a logo on it!" Eddie presses his lips together and nods.

Chrissy whines, "Oh, no! So did it transfer onto his -" Eddie interrupts with another nod. "Noooo!"

"I so wish I could have seen it," Eddie laughs. "In Chrissy's defence, though, I didn't think I was all that memorable," he glances over at you.

You shake your head. "I’ll never forget the day you dressed up as a Hobbit for Halloween wearing sneakers with hair taped to them," you laugh, and Chrissy looks at you wide-eyed.

"Sorry, what?! Where was I?!"

Eddie laughs behind his hand. "Oh god, I thought nobody had noticed that! So - I wanted to give the outfit my full devotion, which meant walking around barefooted with extra hair on my fe- You asked!" Eddie exclaims as Chrissy cringes. "But the teacher told me I couldn't not wear shoes, so I had to keep it canon somehow. God, that teacher sucked," he groans under his breath.

"Oh, yes. How terrible it must have been for you to get dress-coded," you deadpan, and Chrissy joins in, once again trying not to laugh.

"You poor thing, Eddie. Having to be told to put shoes on, so oppressive."

"You guys are really coming for my jugular, huh? Last time I join you two." Thankfully, his tone doesn't sound serious.

"Aww, but who else is gonna come bowling with us after school?" Chrissy pouts. You give her a wide-eyed stare and she simply bounces her eyebrows up and down at you in response.

Eddie blows air between his lips in a rasp. "I dunno, you drive a hard bargain..."

"I'll buy you a portion of loaded fries," you offer, clearly understanding your place as the buffer, the third wheel.

Eddie slaps the table, "Now I'm sold!"

He and Chrissy set up a time and a place and you simply nod quietly in agreement. It’s their date, after all. You’re just moral support until it’s your cue to leave them to it.

Once he’s finished with his food, he nods over at his usual table. “S’pose I should go see my herd. I guess I’ll see you later on this evening,” he smiles before leaving you to join his friends.

Chrissy grabs your wrist, looking all excited. “Isn’t this awesome?! I thought that’d give us time to go to the mall first - don't sweat it, I'll drive us - find something cute to wear, and then we can start the journey over to the bowling alley!”

You’re not sure why you have to dress cute, too, but you assume she doesn’t want to potentially appear overdressed, so at least if you’re there and he’s underdressed, he’s in the minority. You let her have her little makeover moment - as much as it all hurts to help Chrissy live your dream, she's just too nice to direct any ill will towards. 

When you meet up with Eddie, he has smartened up a little - he's wearing a plaid button-up, though you see his homemade Hellfire shirt peek out beneath it, and a leather jacket. He's absolutely beaming at the sight of you both - which if course he is, you're stood next to the most infectious smile in Hawkins. He greets you with the same motion he did in the cafeteria, “Long time no see,” he smirks. “Shall we?”

Eddie turns his nose up at swapping his Reeboks for “clown shoes”, while Chrissy notices that hers squeak if she slides her feet in just the right way and obsesses over it, trying to get a sound out of every step. 

Chrissy insists on "ladies first" as she writes her name without hesitation. She writes yours next, then Eddie's. It goes about the same as any other bowling game - though when you revel in getting the first strike, Chrissy pulls you in for a hug and practically throws you at Eddie to also hug him. 

He smells nicer than he does at school. You feel his laugh rumble in his chest, "Thank you? I'd put that down to Hawkins High smelling worse in general."

Shoot. You'd said that out loud. You play it off with a semi-awkward laugh and a, "Yeah, that's probably it!" 

Eddie gets the next strike, and Chrissy ushers you forward first to praise him. This tactic, admittedly, just genuinely puzzles you. Does she just want to be the most recent physical contact of his? But then why wouldn't she do the opposite when you got your first strike? None of it seems to make sense. Is this why she needs a wingman? Do you need to step in and intervene? You offer him a hug identical to the one he gave, and as much as you try to keep it as brief as possible, you can't help but linger just a little.

You try your best to not play your A-game, giving Chrissy the chance to try and impress Eddie all by herself, but she keeps hyping you up just as much, if not more. You try and play off like you're at least mildly disappointed, and Eddie ruffles your hair sympathetically. You glare at him and he chuckles, "C'mon, you promised me fries, didn't you?"

The three of you share the food between yourselves, Eddie eating the most, which he'd predicted and already "repaid" for by buying all your drinks. Chrissy excuses herself to the bathroom, and Eddie spots you eyeing a nearby claw machine. "You know there's a trick to those, right?"

Your brow furrows. "Isn't it, like, random? When the claw actually grips or whatever?"

Eddie taps his nose knowingly, "Trust me. C'mon," he gestures with his head and you follow him over to it. "Pick one."

You raise your eyebrows. "You're that confident?!" He nods, and you press your forehead to the glass as you choose, "That one. Teddy bear, black and curly hair."

"Just like me," Eddie smiles, taking a final loud slurp of his drink followed by an equally loud gasp. "Stand back, please." You comply, hopping back to watch over his shoulder as he explains his actions. "See, you're not wrong, but you can increase your chances, thanks to a handy little friend called physics. If we just keep, it, moving," he punctuates every pause with the press of a different button, aiming the claw so that it starts to swing, "so that it still wants to swing even as it comes up," his voice drawls a little slower as the claw descends, clutching your preferred toy in its grasp, "and then when it does," he pauses for effect to show you the claw swinging on its ascent, "gravity should keep it central enough as it swings back and forth that it should… Fall…" He extends each word until it drops into the shaft, where he extends his hands out proudly, "Right where you want it."

Your eyes are wide, fixated on where the best now sits. "And yet it's taken you how long to get a D grade?!"

He laughs, "Listen, if physics was taught through hotwiring cars and figuring out arcade game mechanics, I'd be running that class. Same as how I can count a 7d6 roll in seconds, but long division? When am I ever going to use that again, you know?"

“You’re a smart one, Mr Munson,” you smirk as he takes the bear out and hands it to you. Your breath hitches as you feel his fingers brush against yours, and you chide yourself for getting so flustered, not only over someone who a separate person has sought your help to set them up with, but over an action so basic.

Chrissy suddenly appears, bouncing between the two of you. “Ooh, what are we up to?” she asks in a delighted sing-song.

“Just showing off my mad skills," Eddie beams, leaning against the machine and holding his arms out to point at himself proudly.

Slightly dejected, you hand the bear over. "Yeah, look, he won this for you!"

Chrissy looks at Eddie with a face you can't quite read. Like she's questioning him. He returns the expression, and Chrissy shakes her head. "You hold onto it for now, come get another drink with me!" Less of an offer, more a warning as she takes your wrist and pulls you over to the vendor again. "So, talk me through this," she says when you're both definitely out of Eddie's earshot. "How could Eddie have won something for me when I wasn't even there?"

You shrug, "I dunno, but it seems to be going well, right? So, you want me to get out of you guys' hair now, or…?" After that brief contact, you're ready to go home and just scream into your pillow for all eternity.

"Why would - Oh! Oh. Oh, no," Chrissy goes on a whole journey of expression, from curiosity to surprise to realisation to bursting into a fit of giggles. "No, no, oh my god. Did you think that I was - that you were -?"

You look at her, totally lost. "I'm going to need you to please finish at least one of those sentences."

Chrissy holds back a snort of laughter before ordering just two drinks. "Oh god, you two are just precious little disasters, aren't you?" Your eyes narrow, and she holds your arm gently. "Okay, so I'm going to be the one to go, now, because my role here was to try and push the two of you together."

Chrissy's words echo in your head. So many thoughts consume you. She notices this and, after taking both drinks, guides you over to one of the designated booths for food, also waving Eddie over. He walks up to where you both sit, opting for sidling into your side. "Do I get to be filled in on whatever's going on here, or…?" Eddie asks, waving between the three of you.

"So, debrief time," Chrissy starts, placing her hands on the table. "Maybe I'm not the wingwoman I thought I was." Eddie's eyes go wide for a second before his expression becomes one of confusion. She continues, looking straight at him, "I, uh, accidentally led your date on to believe that I was the one who wanted to come here with you. So,” she slides the cups over to your side of the table, “I'm going to go now, you two finish these drinks and go play the one more game of bowling I already paid for, and I'll see you guys tomorrow, 'kay?" With one more slap of the table, Chrissy stands up, slides out of the booth and leaves.

Eddie sucks on his straw nervously while you play with the teddy bear sitting in your lap. You're the first one to break the silent tension, "So. Never thought to just, ask me out?"

Eddie chuckles humourlessly. "You live the life that I have, and matters of the heart become an unattainable luxury." You rest your head on his shoulder comfortingly. "Although," he smirks, "if you had just asked me out, I wouldn't have been caught longingly gazing at you from afar by Chrissy Cunningham, of all people."

You laugh, "Shut up," But Eddie shakes his head, his hair tickling your face in the process. He notices, and tucks it behind his ear.

"It's true! Since all cards are on the table, Chrissy caught me looking over at you last week, before your theatre friends caught you, and then next thing I knew, I'm being flagged down by the two of you, who are suddenly best pals," he crosses his fingers together.

"And… How long before that?" You ask tentatively.

Eddie shrugs his shoulder to gently jolt your head. "Nuh-uh, your turn first, I've already embarrassed myself enough." As you lift your head, you notice a flush of colour adorning his cheeks.

You, too, immediately turn red enough to blend in with the Coca-Cola sponsored furniture. "Um, well… We never really talked in middle school, but I remember thinking you were really cute, with your hair just growing out and the - the handwritten shirts you used to make, I always thought they were cool. I told my best friends at a slumber party, and they said you probably wouldn't even give me the time of day; I was younger and not skilled in any way to play in your band, so they told me you wouldn't care." Eddie's brow furrows, but he lets you continue. "Then, freshman year, I'd tried to join the school paper with my friends, but it was so not my scene. And I didn't know where else to go, but you just… Took me in, just like that. I told myself I wouldn't screw this up, that I'd only act on stuff if I knew it wasn't going to make things weird.  And now, ironically, here I am having the weirdest conversation of my life."

"So, good news about that, weird is kind of my thing," Eddie starts, amused. "You really liked me for that long, huh?" You nod, and he laughs. "So, whenever you would sit next to me on the bus, even when there were empty seats…"

You nod, cringing, "I thought that might be something, like the start of some kind of epic middle school love story, but you proved my friends right. You wouldn't even talk to me,” you shrug.

He smirks, "Because my freshly-teenaged brain had no idea how to approach the very first person he felt attracted to."

If this were a cartoon, there’d be steam blowing out from your ears, you’re that red. “Shut up,” you mutter with a shy smile, looking back down again at the toy in your lap.

“It’s true!” Eddie beams. “I just kinda thought that… I don’t even know,” he shakes his head. “I thought maybe you might be the one to bring up the fact that you would always sit next to me.”

“And I would always sit next to you in the hopes you would bring that up to me,” you giggle.

Eddie moves his knee to rest next to yours, “God, what a pair of idiots we were, huh.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m the one who didn’t even realise I was being set up on this date,” you admit sheepishly.

“I mean, there were moments today where I thought maybe I was the third wheel all along!” Eddie laughs. “So, I kinda get it.” He reaches over to gently poke at the bear. “Got a name for him yet?”

You hold it up onto the table. “Yeah, Teddy Munson, after his dad,” you gently nudge him with your shoulder and he laughs. “He’s got your hair.”

“Yeah, but he’s got his mom’s cuteness,” Eddie looks sideways at you, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips.

Taken aback, you scoff, “Oh sure, now he’s smooth!”

Eddie’s loud laugh fills your ears, causing your smile to reach them, too. “Well, now he knows he’s got a shot. Better late than never, right?”

“In that case, you should know that I totally botched that last game on purpose,” you nod.

Eddie leans back in his seat, a cocky half-smile adorning his face as he looks at you with head cocked and an arm draped across the back of the booth seat. “Oh, yeah? Sure you did.”

“Sorry, remind me, uh, who was it that got the first strike? And then suddenly got way worse? How do you explain that?” you lean back to match his energy, the adrenaline of a half-lifelong crush finally being actively reciprocated charging you.

“I’d call that a fluke, but it’s okay. Whatever helps you sleep tonight,” Eddie’s arm reaches up to once again ruffle your hair. In doing so, he ends up at a closer proximity to you. Oh, you could just lean in a fraction and simply smooch his smug face clean off of him right there and then, but your competitiveness just gets the better of you.

“Fine. Chrissy said she bought us a game, right? Let’s go,” you gesture to the alleys, and he hops out of the booth by pushing himself up to perch his feet on the seat and then vaulting over the back. You clap at his acrobatics and he bows his signature bow at you, before offering his hand to help you out. You take it, carefully shuffling out of the booth while also holding the teddy to your chest, explaining softly, “I’m bearing precious cargo, here.”

Eddie snorts, “Bear-ing,” while pointing to him, and you roll your eyes. “C’mon, you love it,” he drawls as you jokingly start to walk towards the exit, but he tightens his grip on your hand and instead pulls you over to the counter. Apparently, Chrissy had already explained the situation to the girl who was working, having given her a brief description of who to look for.

You take on the responsibility of writing your names on the card beneath the projector, while Eddie drapes himself over you. With a laugh, you ask, "You good?"

"Who, me? Sorry, my presence isn't too distracting for you, is it?" 

"So is your tactic to annoy all your dates, or am I just the lucky one?" You ask with amusement.

"Oh, yeah. you mean the absolute hordes of people just lining up for a night with ol' Eddie, you're gonna have to beat them all off with a stick if you want a shot!" He yells sarcastically as he dramatically prances around you, making you laugh harder.

"Right, but I can't be your first date, surely?" You ask. You've never seen him with anyone, but you never know. Maybe he's more of a casual guy. Maybe even this is casual. Maybe, considering how wrong you were about Chrissy, you should stop making your own assumptions and wait for him to tell you.

He shrugs, "I've been on plenty of double dates where I've been the buffer-slash-distraction, but I've never really clicked with any of those. Let me put it this way - I bully the people I hold dear to me, and you're the only date I've bullied."

"I think there's a compliment in there somewhere," you pull a face, eyes darting around as you try to piece his sentence together. 

"Alright, hotshot, let's see what you got," Eddie smirks, patting your back.

"Ooh, he's a poet! Can I expect a Corroded Coffin song about me, soon?" You grin, picking out your preferred ball.

"Yeah, it's gonna be called Humble Pie, 'cause that's what you'll be eating soon," he pinches your nose between his index and middle knuckles before gesturing towards your lane. "The floor is yours."

Taking aim and bending low, you take the shot and nail it, watching all the pins fall with glee in your eyes. You swivel round to grin at Eddie, "See?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't think I'm not onto your little distraction technique, bending that far just to bowl," Eddie raises his eyebrows.

You narrow your eyes, gesturing to the other lanes, “It’s a legitimate strategy, Eddie, look at everyone else.”

Eddie barely glances over at them before stepping towards you. “No, I think you’re definitely doing it on purpose.” He closes the gap between you, looking down as he drawls, “I’m onto you, kid.”

Yet again, you could just give into temptation, grab his face and kiss him. Let him think of nothing else for the rest of the game. But then, perhaps that’s his plan for you. Regardless of how the game goes, your flirting’s become a competition in itself now. And you’re going to win.

You do lean in. You watch his eyes flicker down, his lips twitch. And then you pinch his cheek, “Your turn, big boy.” You walk back to the bench, and take a little extra pride in the oooh you can hear as he blows a breath out while he watches you.

On every good shot you get, you gloat. On every bad shot you get, you completely avoid Eddie, despite him chasing you around to goad you. On every good shot of Eddie’s, you pull a sarcastic look at his celebrations. 

On a particularly bad shot of Eddie’s, you pout as you tease condescendingly, “Aww, could somebody not keep the ball out of the gutter? Poor thing.”

“Alright, now I am gonna have to stop you there, unless you want all this to go to waste,” Eddie points out with another drawl.

“And why would it go to waste?” you ask, folding your arms. “That’d only be the case if we both forfeited, which isn’t -”

Eddie stands close to you to murmur, “Keep that tone of voice up, and I’ll be forfeiting us both into the back of my truck, if you catch my drift.”

Normally an admission like this would render you floored, but you’re competition-fuelled-adrenaline-filled now. You narrow your eyes, “Using theoretical sex as a distraction technique, Munson? A low blow, even for you.”

“God, you are doing so many things for me right now,” he growls. “And I’d show you how non-theoretical that promise is but, uh, I think Gramps and the crew might have something to say,” he jerks his head over to the team of older bowlers in the lane next to you.

You bite your lip. “Loser of the game has to get the winner off?”

“Deal.”

When Chrissy calls you up the next morning, you tell her of how you and Eddie kissed for the first time as a celebration of the result of that second match. You opt to leave out the part that took place inside the van, where Eddie came in his pants while moaning your name between your legs as he devoured you to your climax.

[angelamajiki]

PARINGS: Pro Hero! Dabi x Sister! Reader

TW: yandere, incest, no con, voyeurism, choking, burning, unprotected/no prep sex, breeding/creampies, snowballing, public sex, degradation, lots of dirty talk

AN: WHEEWW my first fic in a while, so excited for my first join intro collab!! thank you to the lovely jo for writing it <33 enjoy

A BNHarem Server Collab! Check out the other works here.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

Christ, what a load of bullshit the news was nowadays. Constantly whining and squealing about what heroes did and didn’t do, promoting fear-mongering like it was the hottest trend. Between your father and two older brothers dedicating their life to the cause of justice, the world always felt just a little safer to you, the naive little thing that you were. And tonight was no exception.

Despite the rapidly increasing crime rates, your judgment to grab a couple of drinks in the city with your friends was hardly swayed. The stress of it all was getting to you and you’d love nothing more to drink your heart out at one of the few spots still left open. It was a sleazy place, but it was fun. If anything, you found a bar in the area where your eldest brother was currently stationed patrolling.

Touya had always been protective of you ever since the two of you were children, and he carried that same possessiveness well into your adulthood. Always chasing off any potential suitors, keeping you out of trouble, and generally being a menace to anyone who thought they were good enough to be around his favorite little sister.

By the end of the night, stumbling around drunkenly was the only thing keeping you upright as you made your way out of the club and onto the street, looking for a taxi to get you home. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, a mess of blue and red lighting up the darkened streets.

“Hey sweetheart. Need a hand?”

Grubby hands met your arms the same time the cool air of the night did, tugging and pulling at you to come closer, wherever that may be. Jaunts and laughter echoed off the buildings, only adding to the haziness the alcohol induced. “What’s a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here all on your lonesome?”

Weak attempts to push the group of assaulters off you were in vain as they groped and squeezed your body at their pleasure. “Come on, we’re just trying to keep ya company. Right, boys?”

“Stop..”

Your whine came across much more pathetic than you could have ever hoped, only earning more chuckles from the men. “Just relax, sweetheart. We’ll take good care of you.”

Blue flames danced around the group of you, closing the lot of you against the building wall in a small circle of fire.

“Will you now? Last I checked, I'm the only man suited for that.” Touya was less than amused to have found out from Fuyumi that you traveled into the city given its state, even more so when he saw how drunk and disorderly you were being.

“T-Touya-nii!”

The men untangled themselves from you with ease, tossing you into the arms of your expectant brother, who was more than glad to pull you into a tight embrace. “Shit! It's the number three, Heatstroke!”

The comforting warmth of his body and scent of his cologne settled your frantic nerves, tucking yourself closer into his arms. “Honestly, it’s like you're asking for it at this point.”

Your heart sank low in your chest, but you couldn't find the strength to move away from him as he scowled down at you.

“Look at what you're wearing, you little tease. Bet you would have loved to have them violate you, huh slut?”

Never has Touya been so venomous with you before; it made your heart hurt, even more, to see your beloved nii-san be so cruel.

“Don’t you worry, that’s why your big brother is here to show you who you really belong to.”

Shoved against the wall, he pinned your trembling form with his right knee in between your legs and his hands wandering over your skimpy dress.

“You boys can stick around to watch; let a real man show you how it's done.”

Flames singed at your dress, burning it to ashes to expose you in the cool wind of the night. Hot fingers pressed into your skin, littering marks in their wake before they wrapped around your throat. “You were just begging for nii-san to come to save your slutty ass, huh, princess? I know you checked my patrol schedule before ending up at this dive.”

His hand tightened around your neck, his lips at your ear. “Wanted nii-san to come put you in your place, yeah? After fuckin’ teasing me all these years, you finally cracked me. Are you proud of yourself, little girl?”

A whine slipped from your constricted throat, your smaller hand gripping at the large one squeezing you with everything it had. “And now you've got an audience to witness my ownership over you. You're mine, little girl.”

Finally releasing your throat, his hands traveled down to your chest and groped at your roughly, pinching and pulling at your soft, sensitive nipples. Bile was rising in your throat as you drowned in your own fear, feeling him drag you into the depths of depravity.

“What’s the matter, imouto? I thought you said I was your favorite. You're hurting my feelings, y’know.”

“Touya, please-”

A scoff slapped you hard in the face as his knee jerked up against your cunt. “Don’t start with me. I know who you really are and what you really want, even better than yourself.”

His words stabbed at your heart, and his wandering hands only seemed to pour salt over the wounds. “You’re nothing more than my whore, little sister.”

Hips ground against your backside in a slow, teasing manner, groans pushing past his lips as he did so. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

His erection was pressed flush against you, straining in his pants before he unzipped himself. At this point, you were more than sobered up running on fear and adrenaline alone. Your panties were ripped clean off with his free hand while the other stroked his hardening cock. “Look at me.”

The tip was aligned with your hole, rubbing slightly to gather the minimal wetness between your lips. “I said look at me.”

Teary eyes peaked up at him through wet lashes, silently pleading with a man who was not known for mercy.

“Good fuckin’ girl, so obedient for your big brother.”

With one snap of his hips, Touya fully sheathed himself inside of your tight cunt, groaning at the way you squealed for him. “Aw, you like that, huh, princess. Feeling good?”

A warbled moan was the only response you could give him as he slowly began to pull out. The alcohol had you buzzing enough to block out the pain of the stretch, and damn did you feel filled to the brim.

“Can’t wait to breed this greedy little cunt of yours.”

His pace was slow, agonizingly so. Touya couldn't help but savor every second of the first time having been inside you, especially after dreaming about it for so long. God, if it didn't turn him on to have an audience, knowing that these men knew he was fucking his sister.

What would the media think? God, the news cycle would be ripped to shreds tomorrow over this breaking story. But hey, no PR is bad PR.

The thought of finally having staked his claim in you almost had him coming prematurely, but he had to hold out for your very first time together, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Heh, your crying face was so cute. Those tears weren't shy by any means and neither were your sobs. It's alright, you’ll learn to love being Touya’s cocksleeve.

“Say you love me.”

An impossible request when you're being violated by the person you held dearest to your heart.

His pace had picked up brutally, slamming into you without care for his flames spreading wildly nor the group of assaulters who seemed to vanish once they had the opening to.

“I-I love you, nii-san! I love you!”

Your cries were shrill and whiny, echoing into the chaotic night. The grip on your hips was heating up, so much so that his handprints were burned into your love handles.

“Good girl, good little slut.”

His breathing was erratic, hot against your neck as he growled and grunted into your ear. “Gonna let nii-san breed this pretty little pussy? Yes, you are. I know you are because you're fuckin’ mine, bitch.”

Moaning out your name, Touya came deep inside your womb, thick ropes of his cum painting your insides. You were soon to follow thanks to his thumb against your clit, causing you to writhe and whine in his arms.

Utterly spent, you rested against the brick wall you were pinned to, feeling the cum drip out of your still filled hole.

“Let’s get you home and into my bed, princess. I gotta go have a chat with Dad and Shouto, let ‘em know you’re fully off limits now.”

— tagging: @libiraki @bonesoftheimpala @tomurasprincess @sightoru

[cacoetheswriting]

a mutually assured attachment

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 3.8k summary: the beginning of a friendship, or something more.

warnings: set post Endgame and pre-TFATWS, emotional hurt/comfort, mutual pining, swearing, mentions of alcohol & food, mainly fluff and idiots being idiots

a/n: im gonna dedicate this one to the lovely @spacedikut as there is a part in this fic heavily inspired by her. and because i love her dearly and she deserves a bucky fic dedicated to her.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Bucky remembers the first time he saw you clear as day.

The apartment across from his had been empty for quite some time now, so the sudden clatter out in the hallway one afternoon caught his attention instantly. Half expecting to see someone that shouldn’t be there, he approached his door alert and ready to lunge if necessary.

Who he found however, as he carefully peeked through the peephole in his door, trying to locate the source of the noises, was a girl.

You to be exact. Wearing an oversized hoodie and a smile that nearly knocked the wind out of his lungs.

The first time he spoke with you was even more memorable.

He debated introducing himself for over a week now, a long list of pros and cons developing in his mind.

PRO: Every time he caught a glimpse of you, you looked incredibly happy. Would you share some of that happiness with him?

CON: What if instead he shared his sorrow?

The cons always seemed to outweigh the pros and he decided he was okay with never officially meeting you; he’d spare you the pain being around him usually brought. Which is why, instead of simply saying hello, like any normal neighbour would do, Bucky only left his apartment when he knew there would be zero chance of running into you.

His rather childish plan worked, for a while. Until one fateful Saturday evening.

You were laughing.

Bucky heard you clearly through the not so thick walls. He’s heard the honey-like melody before and each time, as if in a trance, he found himself dropping whatever it was he was doing and migrating towards his door, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

He glanced through the peephole and there you stood. So close yet so far. You were balancing a brown grocery bag on your hip and using your shoulder to press the phone to your ear while trying to unlock your own door, laughing.

You were always laughing. He should hate it really, but the sound was so captivating and carefree. Honestly, if anything, Bucky was envious you had this much joy in you.

CON: What if his past trauma sucked the joy out of your life?

An inaudible defeated sigh escaped his lips. He was about to walk away, leave you be, when the bottom of the bag you were holding ripped, its contents spilling all over the dusty hallway floor. The laughter stopped. You cursed and Bucky smirked under his breath, because he never expected you to possess a foul mouth.

“Let me call you back,” you uttered into the phone, “Yeah I’m okay, fucking stupid paper bags—” pause, followed by a light huff “— I know you keep telling me to invest in some reusable ones, I know and I will, okay? Just… Let me get this shit inside and I’ll call you right back.”

You ended the conversation and hastily placed your phone in the back pocket of your jeans, before kneeling down on the ground to collect your things.

It was then Bucky knew he could no longer stick to his plan of avoiding you. His hand quickly travelled to the doorknob and in a flash he joined you on the floor.

You didn’t notice him at first, entirely too focused on gathering some loose apples. And it wasn’t until a hand appeared in your line of view, holding three of said apples, you realised you were no longer alone.

“Thank you,” you breathed softly, looking up to meet the gaze of your companion. Your heart stopped, because you knew exactly who he was. But what the hell was he doing here?

“Not a problem,” Bucky replied. A timid smile circled his lips as you retrieved the fruit from his grip, your fingers brushing against his in the process. You did your best to ignore the jolt of electricity that ran down your spine. Bucky did too.

The two of you got to your feet simultaneously. He picked up a few more scattered items, such as the bag of frozen peas and a tin of chickpeas, while you fumbled with your keys.

Once your door was open, you disappeared inside without another word. He swayed on his heel, wondering if perhaps he should follow you in considering he was holding some of your groceries. But then again, you didn’t invite him to do so and he wasn’t going to barge in.

Bucky was still deciding what to do when you re-appeared by the door.

“Thank you again,” you said while grabbing the things he was holding.

Unintentionally, your gaze landed on his metal arm, lingering for a second too long. Bucky swallowed his breath; he rushed out of his apartment so quickly he forgot to cover up. But you didn’t say anything. Instead, your eyes snapped up to meet his once again and the kindest smile he’d ever seen graced your features.

“I would probably still be hunting those apples down if it wasn’t for you.” you tried to make a joke. Thankfully he chuckled.

“Well, if you ever need help catching more loose fruit—” he smiled and using his thumb, he pointed to the door behind him, “— let me know.”

The dots quickly connected in your mind. He lived here.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, neighbour.”

“The name is Bucky.”

“I know,” and with that you were gone.

Bucky blinked a few times at the now closed door, before letting out a lighthearted titter and heading back inside his own apartment.

This time it was you who watched through the peephole, biting down on your lip to try and hide the excitement that was rushing through you.

A couple of days passed since your encounter out in the hall and Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about you.

The sound of your laughter constantly ringing in his ears. Your smile flashing in his mind every time he closed his eyes. Not to mention how desperately he wanted to know your name.

So much so he even debated breaking into your mailbox — his therapist said that was wrong and, well, borderline illegal.

“Perhaps she doesn’t want you to know her name?”

“I considered that,” Bucky grumbled in response.

“And how does that make you feel?”

How does that make you feel? He hated that question. He hated.... feelings. Or rather, he hated talking about them. It made him vulnerable. Which was the exact opposite of what he was trained to be.

He took a chug of his beer, wallowing in his own self pity. That was a recent hobby of his. A rather unhealthy hobby. Although, did he ever have any healthy hobbies? The answer would be no, not in the last seventy years anyway.

A soft knock on the door hailed him back to reality. He approached it slowly, taking another sip of his beer.

“Would you like some pie?”

The question caught him off guard. Scratch that. You, standing at his door wearing that damn oversized hoodie from the first time he saw you, caught him off guard.

“Uhh…”

You smirked, “It’s a yes or no question, neighbour.”

“Y-ye—” Bucky cleared his throat, composing himself, “Yes.”

“Good answer,” you lipped and motioned for him to follow you.

Bucky abandoned the half-empty beer and threw on his leather jacket, before quickly joining you inside your apartment. He closed the door behind him with a quiet thud and looked around.

Colourful photo frames, of what he deducted where your family and friends, were jotted around the living space. A flower pot accompanied each frame, like their own little bodyguard. Additionally, three posters hung on the wall directly above the couch, although Bucky was none the wiser about what they represented. He assumed movies you enjoyed.

The place was considerably more homey than his, no surprises there. And even though it wasn’t exactly his taste, he decided he liked it. He hoped you’d invite him over more often.

You emerged from your kitchen, a plate containing a perfect slice of pie in each hand. You eyed him for a second, taking note of the jacket he wasn’t wearing when you knocked on his door, but you refrained from making a comment. If he felt more comfortable this way, that wasn’t for you to change.

“Here you go,” you handed him a plate, “It’s apple.”

Bucky raised a brow, corners of his lips quivering upwards, “From the apples I helped save?”

You chuckled, shrugging your shoulders, “I figured inviting you over for a slice was the least I could do.”

“Thank you,” he reached for the plate.

“Sit and enjoy,” you ordered pointing to the couch, “Would you like anything to drink?”

Bucky politely shook his head, “No, thank you.”

You nodded, sitting down in the armchair as he made himself somewhat comfortable on your couch. You could tell it was too soft for his liking, and you almost offered to swap, but his eye caught yours and a half-smile appeared on his face as if to say “it’s okay”.

So the two of you ate.

In complete quiet.

You half held your breath with each bite of the pie, wondering if perhaps inviting him over was a huge mistake. And as you observed him from the corner of your eye, his attention solely focused on the bookshelf next to your tv stand, you deducted it probably was.

“They’re just for show,” you murmured, breaking what was becoming a rather uncomfortable silence.

Bucky’s eyes drifted to you. He raised a brow, “You don’t actually read them?”

“Well, no. I read uhm— some of them?”

“So what do you do with the rest?” he asked, seeming genuinely intrigued.

“I collect them-m…” your voice faded out because it felt embarrassing to admit.

“Collect to— read them?” he tried to fight back a smirk and you couldn’t quite tell whether he was genuinely confused or just toying with you.

“Collect to just collect actually,” you smacked your lips together and took in a quick breath, “Because they’re pretty.”

Bucky laughed at the hesitancy behind the statement, almost choking on the last bite of pie he just took.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Yes, please, laugh at the person who baked you dessert.”

“I’m sorry—” he declared mid-chuckle, “— and the pie is really good by the way.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere now, neighbour.” you chirped while getting up on your feet. You took a step towards him and reached out one hand to retrieve his empty plate.

“Two more strikes and I’m never inviting you over again,” you teased and Bucky lifted his hands in front of his frame as a sign of defeat.

It hit him then how relaxed he was suddenly feeling.

The next evening you showed up at Bucky’s door again, offering him another slice of pie.

“I can’t eat it all on my own, neighbour.” — Was the excuse you gave, but his own self-doubt caused him to overthink the situation.

He said yes anyway. Whether you were playing to your own agenda, taking pity on him, or simply being a friendly neighbour, the only way he’d find out would be by saying yes to spending time with you.

And so, you knocked on his door again and again until there was no more apple pie to eat. By the end, Bucky decided you really were just that kind, and like him, you only wanted someone new to talk to. Someone that would refrain from judgement and scrutiny. Someone you could be yourself around.

Once the pie was finished, Bucky fully expected for you both to go back to spending your evenings alone, as if nothing ever happened. The notion made him feel wistful because truthfully, he had gotten used to your company. You were a refreshing change. Evenings with you brought a sense of cheery comfort to his otherwise dull routine.

So when a recognisable knock on his door caught his attention, he sprung to his feet.

“How do you feel about pizza, neighbour?”

The following morning, after a sleepless night of reevaluating his list of pros and cons —

PRO: You could teach him that apple pie recipe.

CON: He was a murderer. Baking pies wasn’t really supposed to be a part of his skillset.

PRO: No. That wasn’t him anymore, that was his past. And baking pies is arguably a skillset everybody should possess.

CON: …. Fuck. He was sounding really dumb right now.

— Bucky found himself knocking on your door for a change.

You opened within seconds and instantly greeted him with a smile. The same smile you wore the very first time he saw you, only this time it was accompanied by a tank top and pink pyjama bottoms.

Bucky swallowed, trying not to let his eyes linger anywhere they shouldn’t.

“Hi, neighbour.” you chirped and he desperately hoped spending this much time with him wouldn’t ruin your gleaming positivity.

“Hey, uhm...” Bucky hesitated, realising he still didn’t know your name, “... I uh, I was going to get a coffee and thought maybe you’d like to accompany me? It’s the least I can do since you baked me pie, bought me pizza, and all I do in return is continuously insult your hobby.”

You giggled, “Okay, no-one says accompany anymore unless they’re going to a formal,” you grabbed his right arm and dragged him inside before closing the door, “Second, is this what this is going to be?” you enquired, pointing between the two of you, “Just us exchanging thanks and favours? Because like I said before, without you there wouldn’t have been a pie.”

Bucky strung his brows together. A mix of confusion and amusement spread across his expression as you maneuvered between the furniture, disappearing into what he assumed was your bedroom.

“And third, collecting books is not a hobby! It’s just something I enjoy doing!” you called out and he chuckled under his breath.

“Sooo, a hobby?!” Bucky teased back.

You popped your head out, “That would be strike two.”

He smirked, pressing his tongue to his cheek to refrain himself from making further comments.

PRO: You genuinely made him laugh.

CON: What if one day he made you cry?

“Can I ask you a question?!” Bucky called out, mainly to distract himself from his own disruptive thoughts. His hands made home in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Shoot!”

“What is it that you do, exactly?! We’ve spent every single evening together this last week, but I still don’t know what you do.”

“I thought you’d first ask for my name,” you replied after reappearing in the living room and walking back towards him.

Bucky’s gaze attached itself to your body, like a magnet.

The tank was covered with a simple button-up sweater and the pyjama bottoms were replaced by jeans. He unintentionally licked his lips, before quickly averting his eyes. It wasn’t quick enough however. You noticed the look he gave you and tried your best to hide a satisfied grin.

He swallowed, “You can tell me your name when you’re ready to do so.”

It wasn’t an entirely true sentiment to how he was feeling about not knowing your name yet, but everyone has secrets. Bucky knew that better than anyone. Plus, perhaps it was better this way. It wasn’t like he could form an attachment to you with such a significant piece of information missing, right?

You eyed him for a moment, assessing whether he was being serious.

What you deducted however, was that he was incredibly hard to read. Years of being a HYDRA assassin would do that to a person, you thought and proceeded to reach for your phone and keys.

The two of you left your apartment and once you locked the door, you both ambled down the hallway.

“I’m an executive assistant,” you answered his earlier question, pressing the button to call for the elevator.

“A what?”

You raised a brow, “Now, I’m no history buff, but I’m pretty sure they had assistants in the 1940s? People, I guess it was usually women back then, that provide administrative help—”

“You mean a secretary,” he corrected.

You rolled your eyes, “Assistant.”

“Secretary.”

“Assistant.”

“Secretary.”

The elevator opened with a ding, putting an end to the little dispute. Although, by then you were both standing toe to toe and grinning at one another like a couple of dorks.

Bucky’s gaze traveled briefly to your lips, and he wondered how in the hell you managed to make him feel so relaxed already. He didn’t understand it really, given the first conversation he held with you was not even two weeks ago, and now you were joking together as if you had known each other your whole lives.

Mainly however, mainly Bucky imagined what it would be like to kiss you…

“For someone who’s over 100 years old, you’re very childish.” you pointed out before stepping inside the machine, and unknowingly bringing him back to the real world.

Bucky chuckled at the comment, albeit slightly delayed but you didn’t pay it much mind. He followed and leaned against the wall across from you, the machine now moving.

“I guess I just don’t understand what was wrong with ‘secretary’,” he admitted.

“I’ll explain it to you after our morning coffee,” you hummed in response and he nodded his head.

“I’ll hold you to that, Ms. Assistant.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not your assistant, so unless you want me to start calling you Mr. Assassin...” The tone of your voice was serious, but the ditzy expression on your face indicated you were joking.

“Yeah, I would uh, I would rather if you didn’t call me Mr. Assassin.” Bucky replied honestly and a congenial, yet playful silence filled the elevator.

Your attention now focused on your phone, which was vibrating in your hand minutes prior.

Bucky’s attention on the other hand, was still solely on you.

He examined every inch of your face, wondering yet again why he was so captivated by you. Wondering how you managed to make him feel so worry free with nothing but your presence.

In the process, he took note of how you bit your bottom lip when thinking. Cute. And how you scrunch your nose ever so slightly while your fingers work fast across the screen. Even cuter.

When the elevator stopped, you locked the device as Bucky extended out an arm to prevent the door from closing. He waited for you to exit before following closely behind, passing you effortlessly in the lobby to open the main door.

You fought back a smile because it was the most gentlemanly thing you’ve experienced in a very long time. You had to remind yourself not to get used to it.

“How do you feel about Ms. Secretary, instead?” he teased, as the two of you stepped onto the busy New York streets.

“Careful Bucky, you only have one strike left,” you chirped in response.

If he wasn’t entirely too focused on how his name sounded coming from your lips, because it was the first time you had actually called him by his name, he would have recognised the rather dangerous feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

“That’s a no then,” Bucky retorted.

“Mhm hmm, a big big no,” you declared.

He pursed his lips together, “And hypothetically, how would I go about gaining some of those strikes back?”

“You don’t.”

Bucky let out a playful scoff, “That seems a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

He felt you shrug at the question, your arm pressing up against his in the process.

“Well, you should have been nicer to me, neighbour. I guess that’s a lesson learned,” you replied and although Bucky wasn’t looking at you, he could tell there was a smirk enhancing your expression.

He licked his lips and slouched ever so slightly in your direction, although his eyes still peeled to the streets ahead.

“For someone who appears kind and friendly, you’re actually very mean.”

The statement made you laugh, “A super soldier who’s fought aliens and other monsters alike, thinks I’m mean?” you asked in an over-exaggerated tone.

“Point proven,” Bucky nudged as the two of you approached the coffee shop. He proceeded to open the door for you, and you thanked him with a sweet smile.

The place was surprisingly empty, meaning luckily there was no queue. You approached the till and glanced at Bucky, encouraging him without words to order first. He did and the barista turned to you.

“I’ll have a large Americano, please.”

You thanked the barista, and were about to pay when Bucky stopped you. His fingers brushed against yours and the air hitched in your throat, an odd sensation spreading through you.

Bucky paid, also thanking the barista, and followed you to the other end of the counter.

“Do you take milk or sugar?” he asked, pointing to the various condiments.

“No, I like it as black as midnight on a moonless night,” you responded and Bucky chuckled, catching your gaze with his.

“That’s eh, that’s very poetic,” his mouth curved into a smile.

“It’s from Twin Peaks.”

He furrowed his brows, “Am I supposed to know what that is?”

You gaped at him, forgetting for a fraction of a second about who it really was you were hanging out. Forgetting how his past would have prevented him from knowing anything about pop culture, old or new.

“Right, sorry. I—” your phone started vibrating in your hand, interrupting your train of thought. You peeked down at it briefly, to check the messages, before meeting Bucky’s blue eyes again.

“I’m sorry. I uh, I have to go. But, come by this evening—” the barista placed your order on the counter and you quickly grabbed your coffee, “— let’s say 7pm? I’ll provide food if you bring beer? And I'll introduce you to Shelly, Bobby, Laura—”

“Are, ehm, are they your friends?” Bucky asked, a hint of concern detectable in his voice because he wasn’t sure if meeting people from your life would be a good idea. Unbeknown to him however, it was clearly not what you meant by saying those names.

“Twin Peaks,” you replied and with one last smile, you hurried towards the exit.

“I still don’t know what that is!” Bucky called after you, reaching for his own coffee.

“Bye Bucky!”

“Bye—”

He exhaled and drew his lower lip between his teeth. He watched you blend with the crowd, and as you disappeared from view he realised it didn’t matter if he didn’t know your name.

The attachment was already formed.

main masterlist

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Approaching Countdown.”

Had to write this at work today, so sorry it is short. 

The GA chairwoman stood in the oppressive muggy heart of Earth. She really hated it, it made her skin itch and her eyes sting, there wasn’t enough water in their atmosphere to actually cause her any harm, but there was definitely enough of it to make her very uncomfortable. A part of her had hoped that it might rain, forcing her to stay off world for the weather formation, but these humans knew what they were doing and had scheduled the launch for a cloudless day.

She looked up at the yellow earth sun and sighed. The humans had been very excited to invite the GA delegations out to view the launch. Humans were generally very excited to show anyone they could their dangerous past, and looking at the thing that was passing for a spaceship, she could not see how it would get more than a few inches off the ground, much less out of orbit. Supposedly they had dipped into very rare rocket fuel reserves to even do this as it required fossil fuel.

Fossil Fuel!

Let that sink in for a moment.

Liquified dead plant and animal remains mixed with liquid oxygen and some sort of oxidizer. She wasn’t sure what that last part meant, she wasn’t a rocket scientist. She sighed again, personally she wished she didn’t have to be here, for she doubted the launch was going to go as the human expected. In all reality her nerves were shot and she wished that she could just pass out for the next few hours and forget where she was. Everything was out of her hands anyway. Her orders had been given and now all she could do was wait.

She stood in the heat not too distant from her array of human bodyguards,dressed in dark suits and wearing dark glasses to cover their eyes. Somehow they managed to look more intimidating than normal humans did frowning, missing the characteristic tooty smile she had grown to associate with humans.

Shehad spent far too much time with Admiral Vir it seemed.

She sighed at the thought of him and shook her head.

Every time she tried to think about something else, it just circled back around to him. She tried not to think about it, taking a very deep breath.

There was some shuffling behind her and she turned slowly on her knuckles feeling the concrete grinding below her hands as she did. Two Tesraki and one other Rundi stood behind her having been let through by the human guards, who still eyed them with some measure of suspicion.

“Everything is in place, Chancellor.”

She nodded her head once.

“How many?”

There are at least thirty patrolling the borders of the trajectory zone. They will know as soon as he breaches orbit.

“And our engineers?”

“We are having trouble gaining access, but we are still working on it.”

“You better hope that we can.”

She lifted her head towards the sky where she could see the faint line of the moon against the blueness of the sky.

“We better hope.”

***

Captain Richard’s palms were very sweaty. He tried to wipe them discreetly on his pants or more accurately a onesie the scientists were calling a “Liquid Cooling and Ventilation Garment. So like a Onesie with tubes in it. He glanced sidelong over to where Admiral Vir was sitting staring at the antique space suit equipment laid out before them. 

He tried not to make it look like he was staring, but he totally was.

Admiral Vir wasn’t much older than him, maybe by a year or two, but that was part of what made being in the same room with him so strange. Every time he, or probably anyone, though of an admiral, they generally thought of some stuffy grey haired fat guy who sat behind a desk and gave orders. But…. this guy…. Well he was nothing like that at all. He was young and stupidly fit, and sure he had some white hair appearing at his temples, but his hair was blond enough you only noticed it in certain light.

And he was very personable, that was the first thing Richards had noticed.

The man knew how to work a room. He was funny, and despite being intimidated by his status, he found himself forgetting constantly that this guy wasn’t someone cool he had just met out at the bar. 

As if he could sense someone looking at him, Admiral Vir turned around theappriture of his mechanical eye adjusting slightly. He grinned in a very un-admiral way, “This is so friggin awesome.” The man looked like he was about to jump out of his boots, “Just look at this stuff-” He grinned some more dancing from one foot to the other, “Happiest damn day of my life and I’m wearing a diaper.”

That got the rest of the shuttle crew laughing which then devolved into a discussion about the pros and cons of diapers versus the new suit catheters. There was a surprising split on the discussion as the group of men talked, a conversation that was only broken as a group of scientists stepped in to help them with their suits. The process was rather tedious, the suits were bulky and cumbersome, nothing like the neat, sleek and comfortable suits used on regular ships.

Stepping into the pants of the suit they had to hold their arms up as the upper portion was lowered into place over their heads while others hurried in to pull on their arms and then help them fit into the gloves. He ducked his head as the communications cap was placed over his head. They would be wearing the full suit into orbit, though they would be allowed to take it off on the journey over. A journey which would take roughly three days or more to complete. One of them would stay in orbit while Admiral Vir and Richards himself took the lunar module down to the surface.

It was all supposed to go very smoothly from here.

Once suited up he couldn’t help but be reminded of when he was a child ready to go sledding with his siblings, in his massive snow pants and puffy jacket, waddling across the floor with his arms held out to either side.

He honestly hoped he looked cooler than he felt.

Admiral Vir might have been able to pull it off if he wasn’t nearly skipping, which seemed pretty improbable in the massive ass snowman suit.

Glancing out the long windows and into the horizon, he could see crowds of people set up in the distance. Head was a teenager when the Enterprise Launched, standing in an awed crowd as the massive behemoth hauled herself into the sky. He remembered the thrill, and he remembered the fear as he watched it go higher and higher and higher.

He remembered that day as one that led him to where he was now, and couldn’t believe it.

***

 The UN president stood at her lectern feeling a soft breeze blow through her hair. Today was a good day, or at least it was shaping up to be a good day. She had two folders sitting under the lectern like she always did during times like this. One of them was green and one of them was red.

The red one was sitting on top.

She glanced over to where the GA president stood and scowled slightly. She had always thought the little creature was kind of ugly looking like an ant. She had never liked bugs, or bug like things of any kind, which she found to be a common trait among aliens, Drev, Vrul, Gibb, Rundi, Burg.

She looked up at the sky neck stretched out sunning herself in the bright morning.

She could see the rocket in the distance held up on its platform. Admiral Vir would be moving into place now. Most people would see this only as some sort of historical recreation act, but PR analytics suggested that, if the Admiral succeeded, approval rating in the GA would go up almost 3 percent. Human and alien relations had been rockier than most people would like to admit. If Admiral Vir were to fail, the failure would likely shock the aliens senseless, and if he died. It could completely break down human/alien relations for the foreseeable future.

They were on the cusp of cooperation or war, and any single event could push them in that direction.

Relations might have already broken down if it wasn’t for Admiral Vir.

The president reached down a hand brushing the tips of her fingers over the red folder.

***

Jade examined the rocket from the inside of her decontaminated engineer’s suit. She was busy going over final checks before the craft was launched. Personally she thought it was a bad idea. There was no reason to go and do something so dumb when they had perfectly viable technologies available at their fingertips. Of course, she understood the value and importance of major historical events, but that didn’t mean they had to reenact them. I mean it's not like anyone ever wanted toreinaced the titanic or the Berlin wall, or burning down the library of Alexandria, but for some reason some yahoos wanted to strap themselves to a rocket inside a tin can and fly into space.

Using the same EXACT design from TWO THOUSAND years ago.

Might as well start using steam locomotives to get around.

She inched her way along the scaffolding catwalk  just a few hundred feet in the air. She didn’t mind heights, butcher wasn’t stupid, and would enver risk herself unecissarily. She examined the bolts holding the ship together passing a critical eye over each and every one of them. If just a single one of them got loose, it might potentially pull the whole panel off. If that happened, the launch trajectory might destabilize and they could begin to spin into the ground and explode.

Off in the distance she heard an alarm calling her down from above.

She would need to leave soon, and so tucked her clipboard under one arm and began to climb down one of the ladders towards the distant ground.

It was then that she noticed something strange. She didn’t know why she noticed it, it was so small, and she was in a hurry but…. There was something…. Strange. She glanced over and squinted towards the strange reflection.

The siren continued to blare.

She should really go.

She started to descend but then.

“You might want to check that again.”

She nearly leaped out of her skin at the voice turning on the spot and pitching ackwards with wide open eyes nearly falling over the rail as she came face to face with a porcelain white face and wide black eyes like pools of onyx. For a second she almost screamed assuming she had gone insane, but then paused as she saw the figure floating before her a gravity belt around it’s waist, and hundreds of white ribbons streaming from it’s back.

A starborn!

She had seen a documentary mentioning them, even with a few images, so she knew who it was. She also knew that they could read minds.

It wasn’t supposed to be able to speak, but this one was wearing translation gloves, and spoke sign language rather fluently.

“You might want to check again.” It repeated

“But I-”

“The Admiral is expecting an attempt on his life, and the best way to do it would be to sabotage the shuttle. You will want to help me because if the Admiral dies, my daughter will be very upset.”

She opened her mouth then closed it, not sure how to respond but eventually turned back to the shuttle and leaned forward pointing to the side of the rocket, “That, right there, can you float over and take a look. The creature floated past her, billowing like smoke as he eased over. He pointed, “This?”

“Yes.”

He touched it.

“Can you feel it/” She wondered.

“It doesn't feel like the rest of the ship though I cannot say how.”

“Keep looking around, I need to call in-”

“NO!”

She frowned hand halfway to her mic.

“Don’t tell them, we don’t want them to know that we have found anything.

She wasn’t so sure about that, but she didn’t feel like pissing this thing off, so reached to her mic, “Mission control this is Engineering, i'll need a postpone on the launch while I finish off my checklist. This is taking longer than I anticipated.”

“Roger that.” mission control responded.

The sirens stopped a moment later as she urged the Starborn forward to prod at the spot. There wasa soft peeling noise, and after a moment, she watched as the creature came away with a strip of tape.

He floated over to her and she examined it. That shouldn’t have been there, this was not the heat resistant sort of tape they used, and it certainly wasn’t something they would have bothered to put on the outside of a ship. The only thing it seemed to do was match the paint color.

She leaned forward glancing at the side of the shi. If this had gone up during exit it would have burned off, and that would reveal. 

The loose bolt underneath. Just like she feared.

She could fix it and ordered the starborn to do so following the instructions in her head. After that she ordered him to take her vest camera and fly around the outside of the rocket. She had noticed based on the way the light interacted with the tape as compared to the finish of the rocket’s exterior. 

If only she had someone who was good at distinguishing subtle color, and then she remembered.

She called the starborn back.

“Go, get a Drev and hurry back here. I’ll try to stall them.”

[arhvste]

IWAIZUMI HAIJIME - PROMISES

- summary - in which you reminisce on all the previous journeys and pit stops you’ve made prior to the current journey you’re on where you’re sat in the passenger seat in your husbands luxury car - fluff - x f reader

- an - for @zumisace , look after yourself for me and keep doing well in your classes i know you can pull through and make iwa proud too !! <3

-

“I’ll turn on the seat warmers, just give me a sec.”

Iwaizumi closed the door after you climbed into the passenger seat of his matte black Mercedes-Benz G-class ensuring you had managed to sit down comfortably before securing it shut. Seconds later you were joined in the vehicle by your husband as he fasted the seatbelt before starting the engine and pressing a few controls to ignite a heat from under the leather of the seats.

“So, work was good today?”

You were the leader of the PR team for MSBY, the same team your husband just so happened to be taking responsibility for regarding their athletics training. The two of you arrived at the stadium together every morning and separated upon the entrance of the spacious stadium where he’d make his way down to the gym and you’d retreat to the offices where you’d watch over the team from behind the scenes.

“Mhm, we’re gonna be going over some points for them to discuss in upcoming interviews. Right now, all eyes are on Hinata, we want to make sure he takes advantage of this and gets a good impression across straight away to hopefully garner support immediately.”

Iwaizumi hummed and gave a quick nod before tilting his head back and moving one arm to the back of your headrest as he reversed the car out of the private garage built discreetly under the stadium which was strictly reserved for staff and players of the team. You’d never get over how attractive your husband's casual gesture was, but the feeling of his soft breath against your neck and the way his musky natural scent that you found comfort in would reach your senses made your heart flutter every time he did it.

Successfully swinging the car out of it’s space, Iwaizumi brought his arm back and left it resting on your thigh, the other hand gripping the black wheel as he stepped on the acceleration and pulled the heavy car out of the garage to the small security station where the officer patrolling gave the two of you a firm nod and smile and lifted the gates for you to speed out onto the main roads.

The city lights of Tokyo drowned out the natural light of the stars above but you didn’t mind. After the two of you had lived in Miyagi for so long, the bright and fluorescent lights were a nice change of scenery after spending years under the clear night skies littered with the glittering stars above. Yourself and your husband were familiar with the rural scenery but that didn’t mean you didn’t like the busy and full environment you now lived in.

You’d both come a long way since moving to Tokyo. Previously being based in the Miyagi prefecture and studying at Aoba Johsai, that was your first pit stop as a pair on the way to bright futures.

Being third years with both academic, social and sports parts of your lives were a lot to juggle all at once but you’d both somehow managed. Sure, there was a slight set-back after your boyfriend and his team couldn’t make it to nationals for their final year but that wasn’t going to stop either of you working towards your long term goals as you both knew there were bigger opportunities than nationals that were yet to come.

The next leg of your journey was college. After graduation the two of you felt a big weight had been lifted off of your shoulders as you clung and cried to each other with nothing but pride and admiration for each other. You’d both made it to the end of the compulsory education part of your lives and were ready to write the next chapters. This chapter however, had two parts as Iwaizumi had accepted an offer a college out in California had given him and you had decided to study out in Tokyo where you’d be joined by other briefly familiar players such as Semi Eita and Konoha Akinori whom you’d had very vague introductions to in the past. Iwiazumi had debated with himself for countless nights regarding his offer and whether or not he should take it. It didn’t make things any easier for him knowing that Oikawa was leaving out to Argentina like he’d always planned to pursue his own dream; after all, that boy had the whole world waiting for him and he wasn’t one to leave people hanging.

Despite being adamant about wanting to at least weigh out the pros and cons of going and staying, you finally convinced him that he had a haul of opportunities just waiting to be taken by him in California and you’d promised him that no matter what he picked to do, the love and pride you felt for him would never falter. In return, he promised you that he’d do his absolute best and come back to you with a greater knowledge of the career path he wanted to take and a solid plan of the future he wanted with you.

You smiled softly thinking back to the streaming tears down his flushed face as he pulled and interlocked your pinky finger with his and gave it one last secure squeeze before the speakers announced his terminal gates were open and all passengers would make their way to the boarding line immediately.

It was safe to say that 5 years later and you had both kept your promises in place. The love and pride for him never did once falter despite the long distance between you both and the frustratingly short facetime calls and conversations. You strongly believed in the saying ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ and you decided this had been proved as the second Iwaizumi strode out of the return gates and locked eyes with you, the love you had felt for him had suddenly multiplied by a huge sum and you felt an overwhelming sense of pride just looking at him. He had grown even more handsome if that was possible, sharp features more defined, muscles filled out more, taller in height and his skin slightly more tanned as a result of being under the Californian sun over time. He looked more radiant too, the glow in his eyes and the bright smile that wiped over his face when he saw you. That was the second you knew he’d kept his promise to you too.

The two chapters of your years apart had finally closed and the next leg of your journey was one you’d take together again. Iwaizumi was set on making his career out in Tokyo where you had decided you’d be based yourself. Upon his return, he was offered several job offers and interviews at various companies and a handful of professional teams.

It was MSBY’s offer that caught his eye and his judgment only tipped furter in their favour when he remembered that MSBY was the team you were currently working for as a PR team member. Iwaizumi didn’t tell you about the offer, neither did he tell you about the interview and how well it had gone. You were too occupied with your own work and apartment hunting after you had brought up the idea of moving closer into the heart of the city with him to which he agreed immediately. It was only 2 weeks since your boyfriend’s return until you noticed an excitement stirring during the teams training session. Curiosity got the best of you and you wandered down to the large gym where the players were talking excitedly among themselves and Bokuto’s infectious laughter rang through the air.

“Bokuto, what’s Miya done now I swear if he’s-”

There stood your smirking boyfriend, arms crossed over his broad chest and MSBY coaches shirt clung to his frame.

“Glad to be working with you.”

You sputtered and didn’t bother hiding the shock on your face as your mouth gaped open and you tried to form a coherent sentence but had no luck.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you, I wanted to surprise you so… surprise?”

“Asshole!” you ran up to him and he caught you with ease as the players watched the scene unfold in front of them. Bokuto’s excitement radiating off the walls as Atsumu childishly made gagging noises despite Kiyoomi’s disapproving glare aimed towards him.

From then on, life was made easy for the pair of you. All the time lost from when you were separated between colleges, made up with now working and living together. After a week of being official colleagues, Iwaizumi had found a suitable and comfortable apartment for the two of you to move into. It was a little pricey but it was expected since it was located in the centre of the city and besides, the two of you were receiving a very generous income from the jobs you both worked as MSBY were a V-League and highly sought after team with a constant flow of income in all departments.

That was the next stop in your journey together. Moving in.

Life with Iwaizumi was already great but you treasured the first few real feelings of domesticity with him. You found yourself falling for him all over again after signing the papers to legally own the place together, pack up all your old things from your apartment where he had been staying with you until you both found a place suited to your requirements. Moving in officially with him was something you had always dreamed of but never had any clear ideas on how it would become a reality but here you were standing in the new living room of your luxury apartment with the love of your life.

You’d never forget the proud smile he gave you after you’d finally unpacked everything and had your limbs tangled together on the couch.

“I told you I’d keep my promise.”

“I never said you wouldn’t.”

“Fair point.”

That was what life with Iwaizumi felt like. Fulfilled promised.

The next promise he made was when he got down on one knee after a year of living back in Japan and a year of living with you.

“Look, you know I’m no good with this sappy kind of shit but I’ll try for you. Y/N L/N, you’ve been the light at the end of the tunnel for me for as long as I can remember and now look, you’ve helped me reach the end and I’m finally the man I wanted to be, I hope I’m the man you wanted or at least hoped for me to be too. I always held that promise I made to you years ago at the back of my mind and I have every intention of delivering it to you. I want you in my life for the rest of it and I can only pray you’d allow me in yours too so, Y/N, would you do me the honor of sharing the last name Iwaizumi with me?”

Just like that, this man had single-handedly stolen your heart again and you couldn’t stop the happy stream of tears from flooding your vision as you could only nod and choke out a yes before throwing yourself into his arms.

The next pit stop of your journey forward was none other than your own wedding. Nothing over the top since neither of you found yourselves dreaming of an extravagant wedding but your wedding was nothing less than a fairy tale. Old classmates, family and players from other teams from your highschool days attended and congratulated the two of you for finally reuniting and making things official. Oikawa made sure he was back for his best friends wedding and caused a scene as expected, tears of joy pooling in his eyes everytime he looked at the happy couple and his best man speech filled to the brim of old stories and mentions of how happy and proud he was of his best friend to have found himself and the love of his life so early on in his years.

The soft lights and background music created a dreamlike atmosphere as the two of you swayed to your own beat, your arms wrapped around his neck as his were secured around your waist. The soft glint in his eyes held nothing but the purest form of love for you as he continued to allow himself to get lost in your own eyes filled with the same admiration. An unspoken promise.

To love each other and stick together throughout the rest of your life.

Just like every other promise, that one was kept too. It had brought you to the present day and time. You and your husband driving home together after a long day of work. The soft city lights gradually became more scarce as the flashbacks of your memories together caught up to the present time.

Iwaizumi pulled into the private garage and parked the car straight into the usual parking space that was reserved for the two of you.

Stopping the engine, your husband gave your thigh a light squeeze to let you know you were home just in case you’d dozed off on the way back. You turned your head to face Iwaizumi and offered him a small smile.

“You were quiet on the way back, tired?”

Shaking your head you laced your fingers into the fingers of the hand Iwaizumi had left resting on your thigh.

“Nah just thinking.”

“About what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You, us, how far we’ve come.”

A soft silence washed over the two of you as Iwaizumi looked away for a moment as if he was having his own flashbacks. Giving your hand a squeeze with his larger and calloused one he turned back to face you and grinned.

“You’re damn right we’ve come far I told you, you were always my light at the end of the tunnel, it’s all thanks to you we’re where we are today.”

You laughed and shook your head before resting the side of your head on the dashboard, eyes still meeting his.

“We’re a team Hajime, always have been, always will be.”

Grin never leaving his face, Iwaizumi leant down and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, the warmth of his lips lingering on your skin after he moved back up.

He knew the two of you had relied and made promises to each other, but he meant it when he said that it was you that had brought you both to the point you were currently at. He wouldn’t have had anyone in particular to look forward to returning to and building a life with if he didn’t have you. You made him want to work hard and do his best and it was thanks to you that he felt like he could say in confidence he had worked hard for everything he had today and that included the matching rings on your wedding fingers.

“So,” He began after a few moments.

“What would you think about maybe expanding our little team then?”

A smirk played at your lips before you leaned up and gave him a knowing look.

“I think the more team players, the better.”

Laughing, Iwaizumi opened his door and walked round the front of the car to open your own door and lift you out as he always did. Taking your hand into his own, he walked beside you back up to your apartment ready to fulfill yet another promise and prepare for the next part of your journey together.

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @atsunakaashi @peteunderoos @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei

[baroquebucky]

request: Hi. Can you write something about being in the movie with Timmy and he made an agreement with managers about being in relationship with you to increase the popularity of the movie. And you start dating but you dont know about agreement. And then you get to know the truth and you are heartbroken. Timothee is heartbroken too because he really falls for you. With happy ending

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this and let me know what u all think !! sorry for any typos heh send in some requests :-)

You arrived on set for the last time, smiling at everyone as you entered the trailer for your makeup and talked to your stylist as usual, filled with giddy and sadness as the production wrapped up. You weren’t sure what you more more upset about, the finishing of a movie with a cast you so deeply loved, or the fact that you wouldn’t see a specific curly headed french boy everyday.

The thought of drifting apart from timothée lingered in your mind as you filmed the final shots for the movie. Over the course of several months you had developed a crush on him, I mean who wouldn’t? He was damn near perfect. He was sweet to everyone on set which was more than you can say for other actors you’ve worked with, he was funny and down to earth, he loved almost all the music you did, and he was so articulate.

As you snapped out of your thoughts you heard the director call for a quick break, you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut and taking a breath before going to get a bottle of water.

“are you excited that it’s almost over?” Timothée asked you. Looking over at him you shot him a smile, “bittersweet” you replied, leaning on the table and looking at the whole set, everyone was running around getting things done, fixing things or trying to make sure nothing messed up. “I hope you don’t forget me when you win an Oscar or something” timmy laughed and you rolled your eyes, “please if it’s gonna be one of us it’s gonna be you” you replied, hearing the director calling everyone back to set. “I’ll catch you later yeah?” You spoke, waving at te boy, he smiled back at you nodding.

Timothée smiled as he saw the way you greeted everyone around you, despite being an award winning actress you were always so down to earth and humble. “Timothée we need to speak to you” his agent spoke up next to him, motioning for him to go to his trailer so they could speak.

As he entered the trailer he saw another man sitting down, papers by his side. “What’s all this?” The boy asked, confused and looking at the two men in the trailer with him. “Timothée this is Robert” his agent spoke up. “We want you to date y/n for publicity” Robert said, handing timothée the papers. He was shocked, sort of offended too.

“I’m sorry what? No!” He scoffed, pushing the papers back to the man, not even wanting to read them. His agent spoke up, “listen man, it’s gonna be good PR for the both of you, the movie will get more recognition. It’s a win win for everyone” he pointed out and timothée thought about it for a second. He didn’t like you like that, right? I mean sure he thought you were pretty but you didn’t even know each other. He knew your favorite colors and things like that, he didn’t really know you like that.

“What did she say?” Timothée asked, looking at the man across from him. “We didn’t tell her, we knew she would reject it and we all know when she’s firm about something there’s no swaying her” the man spoke and timothée smiled a little, you were very hard headed.

“Timothée think about it, it benefits everyone” his agent pushed, and he shook his head. “I- I don’t know I have to think about it” he furrowed his brows and his agent nodded, the two men leaving, leaving him and the papers alone in his trailer.

Timothée had read over the papers, he couldn’t tell anyone that it was fake, not even his mom. He groaned and ran his hand through his hair. It would only be six months before the release of the movie, he could get to know you by then.

He was in his trailer for hours contemplating every possible pro and con, the sun had already set and he could hear the set winding down. “Fuck it,” he sighed. Before he could change his mind he signed the agreement, shutting the small Manila folder and walking out of his trailer to hand his agent the papers.

“hey timmy t” you smiled, falling into step with him, he almost choked on his spit, quickly hiding the papers from your view. “hey y/n” he replied, eyes searching for his agent. “what’s that?” You asked, looking at the papers he was poorly concealing. “Nothing, i have to give it to my agent, have you seen them?” You nodded pointing to your right and he thanked you quickly, speeding off before stopping after a couple seconds.

“what time are you done filming today?” He turned on his heels and your heart rate sped up. “What time is it?” You asked. “8:53” he spoke and you smiled, “9:25 ish?” You smiled, he nodded. “Wanna go get some food after?” He smiled sheepishly, you felt yourself flush, nodding slightly before speaking up, “yeah! That sounds great” you replied, he smiled at you and nodded, walking away. You bit your lip, smiling at the ground and holding back a squeal.

As you finished filming you quickly went to trailer, packing up a couple of your things and changing for your dinner with timmy.

Dinner was amazing, the two of you laughing the whole tome and getting to know each other better, you were confused as to why all of sudden he was making a move but you brushed it off, not wanting to ruin something you’ve always wanted.

After that night the two of you went out a lot more over the course of several months, going on small little dates, picnics, watching movies, going to game nights together, sending each other memes, the two of you even went roller blading one time. It was going so well, you noticed the way he would text you more often and the way the two of you hung out a lot more. So did the media.

You’re doing great with y/n, wish the holidays coming up maybe introduce her to your family, post about it and such.

Timothée stared at the message, his heart sinking. He locked his phone and smiled back at you, putting his phone in his pocket and joining you on your couch. “thanksgiving is coming around” he spoke up and you looked away from the TV screen. “uh huh” you replied, heart racing as you realized what he wanted. “I think we’re doing great you know and- well I want you to meet my family” he spoke quickly, nervous as to what you would say.

“as what?” you frowned, slightly hurt that the boy had never asked you to be his girlfriend despite acting like a couple. Timothée smiled at you, leaning in to kiss your nose.

“As my girlfriend?” He blushed, a smile breaking into you face as you squealed and jumped on him, kissing all over his face. He laughed and caught your lips in his, smiling into the kiss. He pulled away for a second, “so is that a ‘yes I’ll be your girlfriend and meet your family’ or” you smiled at him, “it is” you replied, kissing him once more.

By the time the holidays came every magazine, talk show and social media had been posting your relationship, “co stars turned lovers” was their favorite phrase for the two of you. You didn’t care though, both you and timmy were falling deeper and deeper everyday, you were overjoyed, he was scared. The six months began next week. Six months suddenly seemed much too short.

So many dates, so many little gifts, so many funny messages, so many memories and so much love.

Anytime you saw him you got butterflies, a blush would rise on your cheeks when he checked you out or complimented you, usually in that order. Anytime he saw you and you would stare at him in awe he would blush, getting nervous as you hyped him up. Anytime the two of you were together both of your stories had at least on picture of the other with a teasing caption. It was all so real. Until timothée realized it wasn’t. Right?

“Angel, do you wanna get pizza tonight?” Timothée asked you, looking up at you as you played with his hair. You thought about it for a second, nodding your head and a smile broke onto his face. “okay, can you order it? I really have to pee all of a sudden” he laughed, getting up from his position on the couch and heading to the restroom.

Your phone was still in your room so you decided to grab timothées, waking the screen up, a small smile on your face as you see a picture of the two of you laughing with the sunset behind you, both of you in sweats. You remembered that you had told him you wanted to take pictures during sunset, and so that same day he had dragged you out of your apartment and suprised you with a picnic date, making some random lady take pictures of the two of you during sunset.

You were brought out of your thoughts as the phone vibrated in your hands

Only two more weeks with y/n and you’re free from the agreement. Thank you for doing this, the movie is doing great and getting great reviews already. Told you this would work out! Have faith next time.

Your heart dropped, agreement? What agreement? Before you could stop yourself you unlocked the phone, clicking on the conversation and seeing all the messages between timothée and the unregistered number.

Thank you for agreeing to this, by faking a relationship this will 100% get the movie amazinf publicity.

Take her out to dinner, I can send you an address for a nice place, we will pay for it.

When do I have to ask her out?

Whenever you’d like, it has to be before the six months start.

There’s a nice roller skating arena, it’s open tomorrow take her, we will make sure there’s cameras there after a couple hours.

Make her meet your family.

I don’t see her like that, why would she have to meet my family?

Every real relationship has that, make it feel real.

Your eyes watered as you continued to read through the conversation. So it wasn’t real? None of it?

You felt your chest tighten and your breathing grew shallow. Your heart physically hurt, you wanted to break down, cry, scream, punch him. You heard the sink water start in the restroom. Before he came out you rushed to the room, getting your phone, and rushing out of the apartment, turning into an alley before you broke down into silent sobs.

“mon amour where’d you go?” Timothée asked, a smile on his face, excited to spend the nights cuddling with you. “y/n quit playing cmon i miss you” he pouted, checking every room. He furrowed his brows and went to check his phone. It was unlocked. And opened was the conversation with Robert and him. His heart fell. He wanted to break his phone, throw it across the room. He wanted to punch Robert in the face, fight his agent for talking him into this.

Most of all he wanted you. He wanted you when you just woke up and were angry because you had fallen asleep late last night despite knowing you had to get up early. He wanted you when you accident burned food trying to make fancy dinners. He wanted you when you were all glammed up and ready to attend an event. He wanted you when it was just the two of you on a rainy day, cuddling in bed and sharing stories. God, he wanted you. He loved you.

You called an Uber, quickly climbing in and heading straight to your apartment. When you got home you quickly locked the door, turning on the shower and letting the hot water run. You grabbed an over sized shirt you had bought a couple years back and some shorts and fuzzy socks. Without thinking you undressed and got into the shower, letting the hot water burn you for a second before adjusting the temperature. You stood there for a minute before sobs racked your body once again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Timothée groaned, pacing in his living room, looking at the spot where you once were. What the hell was he gonna do now? Sure it started out as nothing but he loved you now, he couldn’t live without you. But there was no way you were going to believe that. How can he prove it to you? He stopped mid-step, rummaging through his closet until he found the small box.

You stepped out of the shower, steam floating about in your restroom as you changed, you let out a shaky breath, you can get through this.

You had so much of timothées things in your room, you decided to curl up on your couch, mindlessly flipping through channels before stopping on National Geographic, half paying attention to the cheetah hunting a gazelle. Your mind wandered to timothée, was he relieved you were gone? Did he ever mean anything he said?

New hot tears streamed down your face, letting out a quiet sob. You didn’t care about your neighbors hearing you anymore, letting out sob and after sob, trying to catch your breath. A knock on your door made you get quiet. Quickly you grabbed a tissue from besides you and blew your nose, rushing to the kitchen to splash water on your flushed face. Before opening the door you looked in the mirror, your eyes were puffy and red, your nose was tinted red and your cheeks were a light pink. Your hair was frizzy, you didn’t bother putting it up.

You opened the door, not wanting to see anyone, however you put on a smile. It quickly fell when you saw a certain curly headed french boy. You went to slam the door it he was quicker, stopping it before it closed, easily over powering you and opening it wider.

“Leave. Now” you spoke firmly, your voice cold and stern. His heart broke at the sight of you, you couldn’t even look at him. “ma cherie please let me explain” he spoke, wanting nothing more then to pick you up and carry you to bed, kissing all your problems away. “Don’t you fucking dare call me that Timothée.” You snapped.

Timothée.

His heart fell once again, no pet name. Of course not, he would be furious too.

“y/n please, let me explain please.” He begged, bottom lip quivering, you could tell he wanted to cry. All it took was one look into his eyes, god. You fell in love with his eyes the moment you saw them. They made your knees weak and made you smile like nothing else. You let out a sigh, taking your hand off the door and walking into the living room. Timmy smiled slightly, following you in.

“You have 10 minutes” you spoke, sitting down. Timothée nodded, sitting next to you, keeping some distance for your comfort.

“I know you think that this was all fake but i swear to you on my mom that it wasn’t. Yes it was an agreement but that was before i knew you. Before i actually knew you. Do you remember that day on set, the last day of filming and i walked with you and asked you to dinner?” He looked at you and you nodded.

“The paper in my hands, that was the agreement, they told me about it only a couple hours before and my agent kept talking me into it, saying it would help both of us and that it would help the movie and I thought it wouldn’t be that bad you know?” He paused looking at you.

“faking a relationship with someone ‘wouldn’t be that bad?’ Are you serious?” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. He sighed before continuing.

“After i took you to dinner i texted my agent, i told him i wanted out of the contract, i felt bad, but he wouldn’t let me, Robert- the guy i gave the contract to- would ruin my career and yours too. So of course i kept going, i wasn’t gonna let you fall for something I did. I felt bad, i thought ‘whatever it’s only six months’ but then we got closer and i spent so much time with you and i fell for you, so fucking hard. God y/n i fell in love with you. I’m still in love with you.” He smiled, he wanted to hold your hands, but he stopped himself.

“I remember exactly the moment when I realized I was in love with you. We were at the park, it was a Friday and there were so many dogs, and everytime one passed us you would catch up to their owner to ask to pet them, we were there for hours because of you, and i realized that I didn’t want to be anywhere else but with you.” His eyes watered, looking at you, a year left your eye and you quickly wiped it away.

“Y/n please, you have to believe me, fuck the contract, fuck Robert. I love you. I love you so much and i hate myself for even doing this and for putting you through this, please, one more chance and I swear to you i won’t fuck it up” he pleaded, scooting closer to you and taking one of your hands in both of his.

“how do i know you aren’t doing this because robert said you had to?” You whispered, looking into his eyes and looking all over his face to try read his emotions, you could tell he was being sincere.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box. “You always talked about this ring you loved, how it meant so much to you for no reason. You told me that at 3:27 am, you were so woozy from not having slept at all because you wanted to see how long you could last without sleep. You told me you would only sleep if i sang you a lullaby and so when i started singing Mary had a little lamb you stopped me, and told me the only song ‘available’ was statistics. And so you made me sing statistics to you four times before you passed out.” He smiled at you, you couldn’t stop the smile that broke onto your face, he was so embarrassed that night but you knew he would do anything to make you sleep.

“After you fell asleep i ordered you the ring, I hid it in my closet because i knew you would get so mad at me if you found out i bought it for you.” He smiled sheepishly and you laughed, nodding your head, sniffling a little. “I’m giving it to you now as a promise, I promise you that i love you. All of those little moments, the stolen kisses, the messy sheets, the intense aracde rivalry we have- everything, they mean so much to me. You mean everything to me. It was real for me, it was so real and i can’t lose you, not now, not ever.” He finished, looking at you to try and read your emotions, he was scared shitless, his hands shaking, still holding your one hand tightly.

You pulled your hand out of his, wiping your face before you looked at him. “I love you too timmy” you spoke softly, he let out a small sigh of relief. “you have to understand that I’m hurt, that we can’t just automatically go back like nothing happened” you spoke, looking at the boy as he nodded frantically.

“I know, i know we can go at your pace” he reassured, a smile on his face. You looked at him, a grin on your face. “then ask me, for real this time” you spoke up, staring into his eyes, memorizing every little detail of them.

“y/n y/l/n, will you be my girlfriend?” He asked, a smile on his face as he leaned in slowly, you nodded quickly, a smile breaking onto your face. “of course i will, little timmy t” you giggled and he scrunched his face up, his hand cupped your cheek and pulled you in for the kiss, the two of you stopping because you kept giggling.

“I love you” you whispered, resting your head on his chest. He smiled at you, responding within a heartbeat, “i love you mon amour.”

[cupcakemolotov]

Feel Like Home

Had a really strange dream last night and @goldcaught talked me into giving it some shape and writing this out.  Just a quick little thing, will expand on it if I have time/the muse for it. Not really a huge number of warnings for this one. Does reference past potential sex but no details. Just magical shenanigans and Bonnie and Caroline being besties.

Caroline bit her lip, studying Bonnie’ face. Her best friend rarely wore such a worried expression anymore, but in this case she couldn’t blame her. In less than forty-eight hours, she’d dropped whatever her witchy business had been, gotten a cat sitter, and hauled butt to New York City. 

And all because Caroline had called her with an SOS. 

Fingers curling into her palms, she glanced around the high rise apartment they were currently camped out in. The space was gorgeous, all warm wood and wide open windows with lush furniture that invited you to linger. The floor was saved from being chilly thanks to a collection of gorgeous rugs, the art work on the walls tasteful and heart-breakingly gorgeous. The bathroom had been copy/pasted directly from her dreams and the tub was gorgeous and everything she wanted in life. 

It was an apartment that she coveted, and one that was millions and millions of dollars outside of her price range. Just the view of New York City alone was a multi-million dollar addition. But her favorite fall jacket had been hanging in the closet, she’d found her awesome, weekend date to-go bag on the side of the bed. It had included a change of clothes and kick ass underwear. She felt safe here, welcome, and had absolutely no memory of how she’d gotten here or whose cologne lingered on the sheets.

“Okay,” Bonnie said finally, rubbing the wrinkle line between her eyebrows tiredly. “I’m really, really glad you called.”

Caroline eyed her doubtfully. “You don’t look happy.”

Bonnie waved her hand. “That’s not about you. Not entirely, at least.”

“Well, I’m not sure who else I’m going to call when I wake up in the middle of supernatural shenanigans, but I’m glad I called you too.” Taking a deep breath, Caroline looked at her beseechingly and tried not to panic. “How did I get here? I couldn’t find any texts explaining and we both know I'm a serial texter. How did I not send you fifty messages about my underwear choices for my date? My shoes? My dress? There isn’t a single hair check selfie on my phone, Bon. That’s impossible. I don’t just let someone talk me into visiting New York without at least a pro/con list two pages long.”

“Oh, I am aware,” Bonnie muttered. Running a hand down her face, she grimaced. “You can look at my phone for evidence later. But, Caroline. You’ve lived in New York for six months. You have a super cute closet for an apartment. I have pictures of that to prove it.”

“I…” her words died at the sincerity on Bonnie’s face. Blowing out a breath, because Bonnie Bennett would never lie about something like this, she cast her thoughts back and slowly nodded, relief heady. “Okay. Yeah. This spring. I remember packing my things in my rental and mom looking both relieved and tired.”

“Yeah, she’s wanted you to spread your wings for a few years. After the bout with cancer, you were being stubborn.” A lifted brow. “It was such a surprise. You. Being stubborn.”

Caroline gave her a disapproving look. “Do you have to say that like it's a bad thing?”

A small smile touched the edge of Bonnie’s mouth. “I guess it depends on what you are being stubborn about. Do you remember that big fancy PR party you were being forced to go to about six week ago?”

“No,” the word was said with great reluctance. “I feel like I should though.”

“Oh, you definitely should.” Bonnie drawled. “I didn’t attend and I know a great deal more about it than I would like. Clothes, shoes, departmental involvement and the dick from accounting who spends way too much time looking at your ass. Your boss, who insisted you go because she keeps thinking if she plays nice you’ll one day introduce her to your ex-werewolf boyfriend.”

Caroline did not want to talk about Tyler. “Your point, Bon?”

“You don’t remember Klaus.”

The name tugged something in her chest, a sense of awareness she couldn’t name, and Caroline frowned in concentration. “Who is Klaus?”

“The Black Dragon of New York.” At Caroline’s blank expression Bonnie sighed heavily. “Well, that confirms some of it at least.”

“Bonnie…”

“You moved to New York six months ago with a job offer for a Public Relations firm that specializes in supernatural reputations.” Her lips twisted in something like an amused grimace. “Your… history with witches and werewolves left you overqualified for the entry level position, as did your original internship in Chicago.”

Caroline pursed her lips. “By overqualified, that better be a comment on my personal awesomeness and not that they hired me because I dated a werewolf. That would have annoyed me. Why didn’t I remember that? I should have remembered that.”

“Because you don’t remember Klaus.”

Which made absolutely no sense to Caroline.

“Do I need to open wine? There was quite a collection that I am going to have no qualms drinking if that would absolutely help me understand the words you are saying.” Caroline threw her arms open wide. “I’m sure whoever lives here can afford it.”

“Spirits, if I thought it would help, I’d have brought tequila.” Bonnie looked heavenward and slouched backwards, something like gallows humor darkening her face. “Klaus Mikaelson is a dragon. A black dragon, specifically. He has been on top of the food chain for centuries, Caroline. He picked New York as his seat of power this century because he was bored in Europe. When he got here, he ate half the witch council, flattened three werewolf tribes, and casually made alliances with the necromages as if they were cute but annoying pets. He owns New York. He rules North America with a very, very short temper. Hell, I think he built this tower to his exact specifications because he now lives exactly one foot higher than every other building in New York. You would not believe how that man likes to lord over people.”

Caroline tried to recall the differences in dragon color and why that might be important and came up blank. “You’d think I’d know who he was with my job description,” she said faintly. “That seems like the kind of detail I would pick up on. And did you say this tower?”

Was there a floor above her? She hadn’t really spent a lot of time looking out the windows. She should have located the elevator and checked to see if it listed the number of floors. Figure out which one she was on. Something to do later then. 

“This tower. But more importantly, you’d probably have remembered that you tossed your drink in his face six weeks ago at said PR Party.” Bonnie’s expression grew even more pained. “I’m told the flowers he sent you after that were very nice.”

Caroline tried to suck in air. “I did what now?”

Bonnie nodded, motioning with her hand towards the bedroom. “Two days ago, you went on what I’m pretty sure was your third date. And you apparently stayed over.”

Eyes widening comically, Caroline glanced around the apartment again, trying to comprehend was she was seeing with new eyes. “Bonnie Bennett, I would remember fucking a dragon.”

Bonnie snorted, slapping a hand over her mouth as she visibly struggled not to laugh. Her shoulders shook, breath escaping in faint, choking noises. 

“This is not funny,” Caroline rasped, launching to her feet. Meeting her best friends watering eyes, she waved her hands dramatically around them. “You are telling me that I have been sleeping in Klaus Mikaelson’s bed for at least two days? And no one has been here to chuck me out? He hasn’t asked me to leave? Did he go on vacation? If he bailed on me like that and didn’t even so much as leave a note, I don’t care how hot he is, that was probably our last date.” Her eyes narrowed. “I even packed my cutest underwear. He did not deserve them.”

“You can keep the underwear thing to yourself,” Bonnie said hastily, voice still trembling with laughter. She cleared her throat, and tried again. “And to answer your question, no one knows where he is. That’s the problem. Forty-eight hours ago, the witch council announced they had successfully overthrown his hold on the city. Two hours later, you called me and said you couldn’t remember where you were or how you got here, but you had a really strong feeling that you shouldn’t leave.”

Caroline sat back down slowly. “What does that mean?”

Bonnie shook her head. “I don’t know. But what I do know isn’t… great.”

Caroline tried to smile. “That’s not really comforting.”

Bonnie ignored her. 

“Klaus brought you back here, to his… for lack of better word, lair. You probably had sex.” Bonnie’s nose wrinkled, but she kept going. “Dragons are possessive at best, Caroline. I don’t know what is going on between the two of you, but it took him over a month to sweet talk you into a date and yet you are keyed heavily enough into his wards that you were able to invite me, a witch, into his home without either of us getting fried.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. You also feel safe enough here that you didn’t bolt home in a walk-of-shame after waking up alone and suffering from amnesia. ” Her eyes were solemn, not a hint of tease on her face. “Whatever spell was used, it has wiped Klaus from your memory and life so thoroughly you don’t have so much as a text or picture linking back to him. So either you were caught up in the crossfire of the spell that took him out or the entirety of New York has also forgotten him. And none of those options are good ones.”

Caroline swallowed past her suddenly very dry mouth. “What does that mean?”

“I have no idea,” Bonnie said with a sigh. “But his magic is here, you're here. Which means he is alive and we are probably going to have to find him. And we will have to be careful, because if anyone from the council realizes that you’re probably the key to finding him, they’ll try to kill us. I’m already not super popular with some of the older factions, I cannot see this helping matters.”

“What, wait?” Caroline said up straight. “Why do we have to find him? Aren’t there other people who can do that? Didn’t you just say he rules this city? Surely he has like, minions or something that can do the heavy lifting?”

“If only.” Bonnie nodded towards her wrist. “But why us? Because you’re wearing his magic, Care. And while I definitely do not approve of dating a dragon, no matter what I think about it, there is no way his magic would cling to you if you hadn’t agreed to it. Probably. Which means when you aren’t dealing with a weird jedi mind wipe, you care about him. For some reason. And the Caroline I know doesn’t leave people behind.”

Caroline glanced down at her wrist and swallowed hard. Now that Bonnie had pointed it out, she could see the gold shimmer of a mark she couldn’t decipher beneath the familiar blue swallow on her right wrist. That mark felt… right. Familiar, as if she should have known it was there the entire time. Blowing out a breath, she glanced back at Bonnie’s unhappy face and grimaced. 

“I bet we can find tequila if we look hard enough.”

[racingtoaredlight]

The Bigsby

This colossal piece of shit you see here is the famous Bigsby tailpiece.  It’s one of the most iconic, infamous pieces of guitar hardware in the history of the instrument.  One I’m willing to bet you’ve heard somewhere...but not that many where’s...

Because, again, I cannot underscore how big of a piece of shit this thing is.  And yes, I willingly, knowingly bought a guitar with one of these monstrosities on there, despite it’s numerous flaws.

“Whammy bar” means a lot of different things to different folks.  Eddie Van Halen weaponized it.  Leo Fender refined it and brought it into the modern age.  When most people in the modern age think of the whammy bar, they think of dive bombs and big waggles and some cool shit.

At its most extreme, the Bigsby provides nothing more than a gentle shimmer.  A gentle shimmer that somehow knocks youre ENTIRE FUCKING GUITAR OUT OF GODDAMNED TUNE deep breathe spencer, deep breathe.

***

You’ll get an idea of what the Bigsby’s all about in the video above.  Played by an absolute master at his peak, on a guitar that had a Bigsby operating at it’s best.

***

CON #1 - Restringing

Most guitars with a trem system utilize Leo Fender’s design.  The strings are anchored by the ball end at the base of the trem.  It requires nothing more complicated than threading your string through the bridge...and that’s it, that’s the entirety of the steps required.

With a classic Bigsby (more on the modern ones in a second), you utilize the hollowed out section of the ball end.  The hollowed out section that every string manufacturer still uses, despite the only tailpiece that needs this are the increasily antiquated Bigsby’s.

What you do is put the ball end through the pin, wrap it around the back of the tailpiece...maybe thread it under an additional bar if it’s a more modern Bigsby (to help give the strings the proper break angle, which helps tuning stability)...and then PRAY TO GOD it doesn’t slip off the pin while wrapping the string around the tuning pegs.

If that doesn’t make any sense, don’t worry, it shouldn’t have.  It’s a solution straight out of the Russian space program.  Da, Bigsbyvich...vy not easy make hole for string in cheap bar of metal?  “Nyet.”

Unless you use tape, that ball end will fall off the pin REPEATEDLY during string changes.  Not that big of a deal if you’re at home.  But if you break a string during a gig?  OH SHIT.

***

CON #2 - Tuning

I mentioned this above...

Let me ask you a series of rhetorical questions.  a) what makes music pleasing?  It sounding good.  b) does out of tune music sound good?  No.  c) would you like to use this tailpiece that immediately knocks you out of tune?

This problem is kind of solved with modern interations of the Bigsby.  They now make a “string through” model, which makes the pin problem something of the past.  And with locking tuners...tuning pegs that have a screw to keep the string in place...that previous section is no longer much of a problem at all.

But you still get knocked out of tune because the Bigsby design is inherently unstable.  It’s really annoying, but there are workarounds.  The first workaround is tuning during every song break...something you should do anyways as a musician playing in public, but we’re in the Butt Era of music, so that shit hasn’t mattered since the early aughts.  The second is simply not use it.

***

CON #3 - Weight

Weight matters when you’re playing live.

“Oh look at you you little pussy complaining about having to carry nine pounds on your shoulder for four hours.”  Listen you little strawman...if you tried to practice like I do, you’d be tapping out after 15 minutes because your fingertips wouldn’t have any skin left on them.  So cut the macho shit.

Next show you go to, watch a guy playing a Les Paul.  Note how fresh and energetic they are at the beginning, and then take a look at the end of the show.  3-4 hours standing with an anchor strapped to you is murder on your back and the shoulder your strap rests on.

I mention this because the Bigsby adds a good chunk of weight to your guitar.  It’s gotta weigh easily over a pound.  And if you’re someone who simply doesn’t use a Bigsby, you’ve got extra weight on your guitar for no practical reason that’s readily identifiable.

So yea, there are some definite downsides...downsides that are legitimately shitty...to the Bigsby tailpiece.  You break a string during a gig?  Fucked.  Don’t have a working tuner during a gig?  Fucked.  There is one massive, massive positive.

***

CON #4 - Chinese variants

Like every major guitar part manufacturer, Bigsby realized the money wasn’t in distribution but in licensing.  The vast majority of guitars you see with a Bigsby tailpiece will be cheaply licensed variants from China.  Every single one of those previous categories’ cons are greatly magnified.

The Bigsby is art, not science.  If it were science, it’d be like Fender’s trem system.  All of the above...the variabilities are magnified.  They’re more of a pain to restring, they go out of tune faster, they’re made out of cheaper, heavier metals.

Basically any guitar with a Bigsby that’s under $2,500 has a Chinese variant on it.  This includes the model I just recently bought.  And whether you use it or not, those issues above that are magnified become even bigger pains in the ass when the tailpiece isn’t made exactingly.

***

PRO PRO PRO - The Sound

This isn’t something quantifiable like weight or tuning...wait yes it is, to a certain extent.

With a modern, Fender-style trem system, you’re chopping off basically all the string that’s not 100% essential.  You pull it through, wrap it around the peghead once, measure roughly an extra inch with your finger, and then chop the rest off.  What this does is create a wonderful string tension that allows you to really dig in...especially with Fender’s longer 25.5″ scale length.

On a Bigsby...again the strings are barely anchored to anything...you get an extra 3-3.5″ of string length that’s wobbly and loose.  The Fender twang comes from scale length, but the Gretsch twang comes from the pickups and design.

This is where the unquantifiable comes in...this looseness and silkiness adds a character to the tone that simply isn’t there with a more typical Fender or Gibson style bridge and tailpiece.  You get different harmonics and overtones.  It’s more forgiving and missed notes aren’t as audibly punished.  The other strings vibrate more (even when muted) and add even more of a character to the overall sound.

Simply put, guitars with a Bigsby...whether you use the trem system or not...sound different.  The extra string length makes all the difference, and the loose nature of the Bigsby gives you a unique character to your sound that’s quite different than what you’d find on a more modern style.

***

That last bit alone is the reason Bigsby’s still exist.  And why Bigsby models with the antiquated pin system still exist.  I do believe that pin vs. string-through models sound differently...unfortunately, not for the better in the case of the modern versions.

Locking tuners make a lof these issues less severe, including restringing.  If you can lock on one end, you’re actually in pretty good shape even with the pins.

Of my four guitars that see regular play, three of them have trem systems on there that I don’t use.  However, the trem system itself is a variable that changes the guitar’s overall tone...and in the sense of my Strat, PRS and Gretsch...these are changes that I find sonically pleasing over hard-tail peers.

Here’s *my* truth...doesn’t matter your trem system...it could be a wonky Chinese Bigsby, a Floyd Rose, a vintage Strat with Leo’s original design, a precision machined Kahler...they ALL SUCK.  They all knock you out of tune and are more of a pain to restring than a hardtail.  It’s why I “decked” my Strat and “blocked” my PRS*

*”Decking” is adding additional springs to the trem so that it’s fixed to the guitar’s body.  You can’t do this with guitars that have an arched top, in which case you “block” the trem by putting  a piece of wood in the cavity that keeps it from moving.  This way they’re essentially a fixed bridge.

But the apparatuses do alter the tone in a pleasing way.  Highs are less strident.  There are more overtones and harmonics.  And the Bigsby’s the same story.  Even though it’s a piece of shit that I hate, there’s still something there worth it.

[hazycosmicchild]

Hello again :P I hope these tickle your fancy. Nicoto - “you need to be more careful and never scare me like that again.” Hanna/Seb - “Are you listening to me?” Mitta + Anna “how about a pet?” Arrivabenes - “Is that a question or an order?”

They most certainly do tickle my fancy thank you sweetie. I’ve added them below a read below as they are rather long.

Nicoto  

“You need to be more careful and never scare me like that again.” Nico looked at Toto and sighed as he said it, feeling in some way the relationship roles had once again been twisted for them from the norm. Normally Nico expected Toto to say this to him after a nasty accident in the car, after all crashing was something racing drivers knew was always a risk, and something they knew there was a chance could happen. But no, he found himself saying it to Toto as he looked at the man in a hospital bed, fresh out of surgery to fix his shoulder after a horrific bike accident the team boss had managed to get himself into. 

Toto looked up at him and smiled a little, still a little groggy from the anaesthetic, “isn’t that what I’m supposed to say to you?”

Nico looked down at the man he loved and chuckled at him, Toto always seemed to know what he was thinking, “you should but I always forget you were a racer too, crashing is in your genes.”

Hanna/Seb 

“Are you listening to me?” Sebastian looked up from where he’d been playing tea parties with his two daughters, blushing a little at Hanna when he saw her there with her hands on her hips, “sorry I didn’t.” He hated to admit it but he’d mostly zoned out while she’d been talking, because the girls were being too adorable during their tea party, babbling away to one another and getting him to join in. Hanna looked at him and shook her head a little, giving him a smile though, “I was saying this isn’t going to be your last tea party with the girts, you’ve got this to look forward to for the next eight months.” Sebastian frowned as he thought about what she had said, wondering what on earth she was getting at by saying he had to do this for eight more months, until he suddenly got what she was saying and gasped. 

He stood up quickly, rushed over to her, pulled her into a cuddle, and splayed his hand out protectively over her stomach, “you’re... you’re,” Seb could barely get the words out as Hanna smiled and nodded at him, confirming his suspicions the Vettel family was about to grow by one more.

Mitta + Anna 

“How about a pet?” It was the first thing Mark could think to blurt out rather stupidly after Anna had totally caught him off guard with her question for him. He hadn’t expected their daughter to come into the kitchen where he was talking with Britta, with a look of confidence on her face, determination in her eye, and ask her dad if she could have a little brother or sister to play with. Mark had frozen up totally at the question posed by Anna, while Britta had to resist bursting out laughing a little at the no nonsense attitude her daughter had, definitely a trait she’d picked up from Mark.

Anna pondered the answer from her dad for a while as she thought about the pros and cons of getting a pet animal instead of having a little baby brother or sister to play with, she shook her head though,��“a bunny can’t play catch with me though daddy.”

Britta smiled as she crouched down and gave her daughter a hug, knowing that Anna would only have to wait another eight months for her request for a sibling, “well we’ll have to see what happens,” she told her.

Arrivabenes 

“Is that a question or an order?” Stefania couldn’t help but answer Maurizio’s question rather cheekily as she gave him a rather sultry look, which of course he matched as he stood just inches away from her. For weeks now it seemed there had been something going on between them, neither of them missed an opportunity to flirt with the other, or miss the chance to check each other out. Steffi had played along happily, despite the fact that Maurizo was technically her boss, even though he worked or the marketing side and she worked on the PR side.

Maurizio chuckled a little at her comment as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, happy to play this game too as he spoke, “for you Bella, it is of course a question, but one I highly recommend you take as an order.”

Steffi’s breath hitched in her throat as Maurizio straightened up in front of her, giving her a look that she couldn’t help but love, “your office in five,” she promised as she allowed her mind to drift off to a fantasy land of the many things they could get up to in his office.

Hope you enjoyed them sweetie!

[nellie-elizabeth]

The Handmaid's Tale: Heroic (3x09)

So, last week my review had complaints about several things. The key three were: 1) racism, 2) they shot a pregnant Handmaid which makes no sense, and 3) June is not suffering consequences. This episode addressed... one of those things. Kinda.

Cons:

I was surprised to learn that Ofmatthew wasn't dead. Well, she's brain-dead, apparently. But this doesn't really change anything re: my complaints from last week, because a pregnant Handmaid was still shot, and there's no way they could have known she would survive that. And also, still racism. This episode is an explicit and difficult to swallow commentary on the way that women's bodies are being used as nothing more than vessels for bearing children. That's a commentary that the show has been making from the beginning. But to have a black woman lying there, unable to speak for herself, nothing more than a vegetable producing a child... it was... well, it sucks. And if the show were grappling with the implications of that suckiness, that would be one thing. But no. The optics of this episode really, really bothered me, and I'd bet I'm not alone there.

There's another issue here, that's partially resolved but partially still extremely annoying to me. I've been complaining about June not facing punishment from Gilead, because it breaks the rules of their own universe. Here, she gets a punishment. It's creative and cruel and drives June nearly to the point of madness. As the episode ends, she sits with her former walking companion as she breathes her last, and makes a promise to the dying woman. She's going to help rescue the kids and get them out of Gilead. So... what was the point of this whole season's plot thread? Last week I expressed a cautious interest in the idea of "evil June." But it seems that instead, her homicidal rage, her disregard for her own safety, her insolence towards authority figures, was all leading her back onto the path of revolution. Suddenly, the whole season feels like it was treading water. June was already interested in the resistance. Why did she need to go through this whole twisted plot thread to get back to where she already was?

June apologizes to Ofmatthew, and it just feels so underwhelming. Am I, the viewer, meant to give her a pass because she's going through a hard time? Janine tells June she's being selfish - is that meant to be enough for me? Again, it just feels like we went in circles with no particularly satisfying conclusion. June is going to work hard to dismantle Gilead. Hasn't that been the game-plan all season?

A few other logical problems kept occurring to me in this episode. Where is Commander Lawrence for all of this? There's not even a moment to check in with June's (former?) household and see how they feel about June's treatment. Wouldn't that be a good avenue to explore, for the longevity of the story? Also, June is left alone in the room with Ofmatthew. At one point she contemplates killing her, to put her out of her misery and also to release June from her own prison. And then the medical equipment starts beeping and people come in to see what's wrong. But... June had kind of an unrealistically long period of time where she was alone with the pregnant body of Ofmatthew. That seems ridiculous to me. June definitely could have gotten away with killing her. Shouldn't someone else have been in the room?

Also, circling back to something I talked about in last week's review, I can't understand what Aunt Lydia's characterization is supposed to be here. The acting in the scenes between Lydia and Janine are superb. Both of these actresses are giving it their all. But what is the script doing? What are we meant to make of Aunt Lydia lovingly helping Janine with her eye-patch? The last time we saw the two of them have any sort of one-on-one connection, Lydia was beating the shit out of Janine. Is this moment here meant to resolve that earlier one? Because I didn't feel like it was addressed at all.

Pros:

I will admit, this is an extremely effective use of a bottle episode. I've always been a sucker for bottle episodes, and despite my negative ramblings above, this one is honestly no real exception. The sense of isolation and claustrophobia that June is feeling is echoed by the fact that we never get to leave the room either. The song, the beeping, so relentless, the way that people move in and out of the space but June remains, and remains, and remains... it was all extremely effective at building atmosphere and tension.

The confrontation with Serena Joy was so appropriately understated. June feebly tries to attack her, and Serena stops it easily. More importantly, she doesn't turn June in. She tells the doctor that June tried to hurt herself, and the doctor decides not to tell anyone what June has done either. Is it loyalty? Probably not. Serena probably thinks that it will look bad for PR reasons, given the ongoing quest for Nichole's return. But there are so many flavors of nuance between these two women, right? Because June calls her "Mrs. Waterford" in this scene, and then Serena calls her "June." And Serena seems genuinely worried about her, in a sense... but it's not a personal kind of worry, maybe. It seems more like Serena is disturbed by June's breakdown, because it's a crack in the system that Serena so firmly forces herself to believe in. I don't know, it's just so interesting to me that Serena, a clear villain, and June, in some ways no less a villain in these last few episodes, have this unshakable connection that pierces through their hatred. And June really did want to kill her, damn the consequences.

I liked June's conversation with the doctor, too. His position in this world is one that interests me. For his own self-interest, and for that of his family if he has any, he can't protest the system. Or he could, but he chooses not to. He allows real sympathy to infuse his conversation with June. They reminisce together about June's mother, who the doctor apparently knew in the time before. And yet this man is keeping Ofmatthew alive to save the baby inside her, in what is clearly a cruel and torturous state. And his sympathy only goes so far. He won't turn June in, but he's not able or willing to offer her actual substantial help, either. It's this in-between thing, where maybe it's comforting for June to be able to talk normally with someone for a moment, and it's comforting for the audience, too... but it's not real and it's not going to help anything.

We see some young girls wearing pink in this episode, and learn about the "daughters in pink," who are being examined since they've all started their periods. Obviously this is horrifying. We had one example of a child bride last season, with Nick and Eden, which was hard enough to stomach. But being reminded of the systemic aspect to this, knowing that these girls are having their bodies measured to prepare them for childbearing, even at such a young age... it's chilling and disturbing in a way not much else on this show can really top. June has a conversation with one of the girls, where she asks point-blank if being a mother is what she wants. The girl answers that of course she does. It's Eden all over again, only even younger. And the echoing reality of Hannah is ever-present. There's the world's most disturbing ticking clock on things, and this was an effective way of reminding us of that. Chilling.

As a final note, Elisabeth Moss killed it in this episode. I feel like I don't talk about her performance enough, especially since recently I've been so frustrated and annoyed with June as a character. But Moss is... she's insanely good in this role. She had to carry this episode more-so than most, and she did wonders with it. The way she talked to Aunt Lydia was in particular really good. So many mixed emotions and motivations going on there, and I felt like I could understand all of it.

And that's that. This season has gone by really quickly, and in some ways incredibly frustratingly. But the show still has strong bones, and I'm still invested in what happens next.

8/10