#so uh the fucking audacity for real at this point to still expect them

[thetimelordbatgirl]

I honestly love how after using Harry's and Meghan's own child to try and distract from Andrew via acting like the Queen had been mad about the child's name, the palace and media are actually somehow expecting the two to respond with public and positive messages for Kate's and Charles' health.

[shititbe]

Anyway, Peter Parker is Bi, and I Won’t Be Convinced Otherwise.

Firstly, we have to get our bases covered. What exactly is Bi-sexuality? What is sexuality? 

Sexuality is defined as a persons identity in relation to gender(s) they are attracted to. Why is this important? Peter’s sexuality has never been specifically stated in the comics, nor in any other form of media. It’s assumed that he is straight because of his popular relationship with Mary Jane Watson in the comics, and the movies. 

Now that we have a bases for what exactly sexuality is and how it’s defined, let’s go over Peter’s partners. 

Obviously Peter and Mary Jane are a piece of comic book history. They eventually get married, though sadly, during the events of Civil War II (I think, don’t quote me) Peter and Mary Jane sell their marriage to Mephisto in order to save Aunt May

They later had their memories of their marriage restored, they have yet to get back together and it’s been a few issues if I remember correctly. Next we have Peter’s first, and most unfortunate love, Gwen Stacy. 

They dated in high school where she later died. Of course, Peter has dated other people (namely, Black Cat, Betty Brant, Carol Danvers, Anna Maria, Cindy Moon, Lian Tang, and so on). Since we have his known history of heterosexuality out there, we need to move onto another important part of Peter’s Bi-sexuality. An important implication in any media, especially queer media though, and that is the homoerotic subtext. 

Homoerotic subtext is important part of queer culture, a lot of the time it’s used to portray a characters queerness without saying it out (see: Dorian Gray by Oscar Wild or Great Gatsby By Fitz). In current decade, homoerotic subtext is often used for queer baiting or creating more realistic male friendships. 

So what’s the difference between someone creating a health male friendship (or a character comfortable in their heterosexuality) and implying a character is queer? 

Here are some examples of a healthy male character, both with himself and his friendships.  

Clearly he’s just taking the shit, and messing around with Reed. He’s comfortable enough (or as I like to see it, so traumatized because good god this guy has been Spider-Man since he was 15 good god that’s awful. He probably doesn’t care anymore). Here are some examples of Peter a little more than just a straight man shooting the shit. 

This has three meanings. Two of which I will take, one of which is just deeply embarrassing. Despite Peter’s history with humiliating events, I don’t think he would get his own spunk in his eyes. Leaving the other two options, he has experience getting spunk of - some kind - in his eyes, and/or he’s taking the shit again. Which is very likely. 

Kissing a cop? For....no reason? A little not so hetero of you Peter. 

You can practically hear his disappointment in his voice. Also could be read as taking the shit, but why would you. 

Making out with The Thing? Gay. 

This one is the most important. Peter is clearly tired, annoyed by his teammates (see wolverine being wolverine in the corner). Shits on fire, its mid battle, and Peter has the audacity to mutter “I hate men” to himself. The only people I have every heard say this in that was are lgbt and straight women, and lgbt men. This kind of expression only comes from people who date, or deal with men in a completely different world than straight men. Straight men use this phrase as an endearment, “Oh have you seen Bill today, I hate that guy.” “Man Jerry can do so many push-ups, I hate that guy.” Very different language, and implications (I also, obviously don’t know how straight men speak). 

 Now that we’ve gone over our bases, and homoerotic subtext. How else could we gather that Peter Parker is Bi? There are many tropes in media - queer media - that allure to a characters queerness. Like homoerotic subtext, there are ways to tell an audience something without specifically saying it. 

This is a gay wedding Peter went to in the recent comics. I don’t know if any of you have been to a gay wedding recently, but Peters face (the first panel above the wedding) is the same exact face I made at my first gay wedding. It’s the face of excitement for not only the couple, but for yourself. The hope that maybe, you too can actually be in a same-sex relationship. 

I’m also going to allure to queer tropes as stated previously. Such as the real, and fictional trope of lgbt people sticking together. Thousands of years of belittlement and oppression will make groups of people not want to wonder out, and subconsciously look for others like them. 

Johnny Storm (and Wade Wilson since he comes in later but I couldn’t find a picture of the confirmation) is cannon Bi-sexual (Pan-sexual). 

Their friendship is deeply homoerotic as most queer friendships in media and real life are. Johnny flirts with Peter on many occasions (saying his ideal women is a female version of Peter, inviting him over to watch is sex tape, and so on) and of course oh my god they were roommates. 

Some other popular queer tropes are: Found Family, Soulmates, and Enemies to lovers. Because it’s superhero related, this includes the Identity Porn tag as well.  

Peter Parker and Wade Wilson have a famous Love/Hate relationship. I mean, how could you expect anything less when your first meeting with this known mercenary is him throwing your civilian persona out the window of a car. Now, Wade still doesn’t know Peter is Spider-Man in the current run of comics, but that doesn’t make anything about them any less gay. 

For the Found Family Trope: 

Because it’s Peter and Wade, their whole development can be read as Enemies to Friends to Lovers, so I wont bother backing that up because, uh, it speaks for itself. One panel really does to add that cause though 

I’m not going to explain what a free-pass list is.

The Soulmates part I know I have to back up. 

For SoulMates:  

Now this panel requires a little explanation. Wade kills Peter, not knowing he’s Spider-Man. Weasel takes over for Peter (they don’t know its him) so no one suspects he’s dead. Deadpool begins to feel guilty he killed his best buds best bud, so he tries to bring Peter back to life. Losing his stunning good looks (switching back to how he looked before Weapon X making his wife Shiklah estranged (then she married Dracula but thats beside the point)). Spider-Man is Peter’s “true self” or patronus for Harry Potter fans. Wade is stupid and hasn’t connected the dots yet, effectively making him the biggest simp in history. Seriously, who destroys their marriage for the c h a n c e for getting some with their idol? A Simp, that’s who.

Peter forgives Wade for killing him (and for saving him from killing their genetic daughter itsy-bitsy). If someone killed me they better be hot as fuck before I even thing about forgiving them. Ignoring Peter’s super sexy forgiving nature, uh, he’s kinda simping. 

Died in each others arms. Nothing else is needed. 

They’re heartmates. From what I read, the feeling has to be mutual in order for it to work. The witches (long story, comics are hard to explain) that captured deadpool were expecting his wife so they could get the headmistress back. Instead, they got Peter. Basically Heartmates = soulmates but chosen for you instead of chosen by you. 

To conclude my point: 

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. 

[baepsaesbae]

Taming Temerity

Pairing— Min Yoongi x reader 

Genre— SMUT +18, incubus!Yoongi, demon au, Valentine’s Day au 

Warnings— Dom!Yoongi, brat!reader, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, hickies, shibari, tickling huehuehue, swearing, explicit unprotected sex (use protection when fucking a demon), ass slapping, creampie 

Word Count— 4.3k                                                                                    

 /təˈmerədē/: excessive confidence or boldness; audacity || You try explaining Valentine’s Day to Min Yoongi, your incubus boyfriend that feeds on your sexual energy. At first he doesn’t understand the point, but if it’ll make you horny then he’s willing to do anything.  

A/N— This fic is part of the Valentine’s Day collab Be My Bangtanvine with @kimtaehyunq @ppersonna @ughseoks @jinned @joontopia and @feliix​. Make sure to check out their stories too! 

“I never understood this holiday. You know it’s just a corporate scam for suckers like you, right?” Yoongi expressed his disdain as his gaze fell on the extravagant Valentine’s Day section in the grocery store. 

“So you’ve mentioned, Mr. Party Pooper,” you rolled your eyes, “Some people just like getting chocolates and flowers from their partners. I don’t see any problem with that.”

“Do you want chocolates and flowers? I can get them for you any time, just say the word,” Yoongi offered.

“That’s the point, it should be a little surprise. I wouldn’t have to ask you to do anything,” you tried to explain.

“At that point you’re already expecting something, doesn’t that just defeat the purpose?” your companion was genuinely confused.

“You know what? I don’t expect a demon like you to get it,” you were getting frustrated.

“No need to throw the ‘D’ word around like that. I’m an incubus sure, but we specialize in lust, not love. However, I’m always down to try new things. You of all people should know that,” he ended suggestively. 

You started to think about how your relationship started with Yoongi. Your body went on autopilot mode on the drive back home as flashbacks flooded your mind. 

It all started about six months ago when you randomly started to have sleep paralysis consistently. You’d foolishly open your eyes and see a dark figure in the corner of your room that gradually came closer before settling on top of you. The extra weight on your chest made it hard to breathe. Once it got to that point, your eyelids would close and you’d be whisked away to a sensual dream. You’d wake up refreshed and energized, completely forgetting about the terrifying events that led up to your wet dream. 

One night, you miraculously were able to break the cycle. As soon as the dark figure approached the bed, you threw a pillow at it. At that point, you weren’t sure if you were in a dream or not, but you dashed to turn on your bedroom lights. The light revealed a man standing frozen in place by your bed. You remember screaming for help and shouting things about a pervert stalker. 

“Help! Somebody help there’s an intruder! Someone please--” suddenly your mouth refused to open.

“Well this is awkward,” the man rubbed the back of his neck, “Let’s get a few things out of the way first. I’m not a pervert or a stalker. In fact, I’m not even human, I’m an incubus. A new one at that.”

Your eyes widened in horror at the mention of a demonic entity. You backed up into a wall trying to get away from him while muffled screams desperately tried to escape from your sealed lips. 

“I’m sure you have a few questions. Normally I would just put you to sleep but you’re wide awake now and honestly I don’t have the kind of mana to deal with all that. So we’ve found ourselves in quite the predicament,” the demon sighed as he sat on your bed. With a wave of his hand, your mouth was finally able to open again. 

“What the fuck do you mean you’re a demon? This must be a dream right?” you were bewildered.

“Come sit by me, I can show you that I’m real,” the demon patted the bed.

“Trusting a self proclaimed demon is probably a bad idea but this is just a weird dream anyway,” you reasoned out loud as you sat beside the intruder. 

The man raised one of his hands to cup your cheek; you shuddered at his cold touch. Something changed when you looked into his eyes. Suddenly, you felt like kissing this total stranger. In fact, you felt a lust that you’ve never felt before. Before you knew it, you were straddling the man, rubbing your crotch against his as you passionately made out.   

“Lay back and take off your pants, dear,” he commanded. You did as he said without hesitation.

The man licked his lips as he spread open your legs. He slowly dragged a finger along your covered slit. Pulling your panties aside, he dove in tongue first, causing you to shudder at the warm and wet sensation. His tongue flicked around between your folds as his thumb began to circle your clit. Pleasure coursed throughout your body as your hands entangled themselves in his hair. You felt two hard protruding bumps atop his head...horns?

“Reaching for my horns already? Naughty girl,” the man smirked as he inserted a finger into your wet pussy. You squirmed at his action. It wasn’t enough, you needed more.

“Oh? What’s wrong?” he asked with fake innocence as he slowly finger fucked you, “Is one not enough? Do you need more?” You silently nodded in response.

“Nuh uh, I need to hear you say it,” he teased.

“Please, I need more,” you begged as you helplessly tried to grind against his one finger.

“Hm one finger isn’t enough huh? How about two?” he added in his middle finger as you moaned, “Or do you want three?”

His ring finger slid in with ease. Finally, you felt full; lewd sounds escaped from your lips. Your back arched as he picked up his pace, curling his fingers into you with every pump. Something tight wound up in you, indicating that you were close to your high.

“Keep going. Faster,” you panted as your legs began to shake.

“Your wish is my command,” he obliged. You cried out as your orgasm hit you. Waves of euphoria rippled across your body as he slammed his fingers into you a final time, leaving his fingers pressed up against your g-spot to prolong the event. 

You focused on catching your breath while the alleged demon smiled down at you. It wasn’t a creepy smile, it was one of triumph. His fingers were still inside of you.

“You can pull them out now,” you said weakly.

“I tried. Your tight little pussy is clamped onto them. See?” he showed you how your lips stayed gripped onto his fingers, “If I can’t pull them out, I might as well go back in.”

He pushed his fingers back in, making you gasp. You were still extremely sensitive, any movement of his would push you over the edge yet again. 

“If you do that-- fuck-- I’ll come again,” you warned him.

“Let’s see how many you can handle,” the man challenged as he picked up his speed yet again.

You came three times that night. All just to his hand and occasionally his mouth. The demon looked satisfied with his work as you laid blissed out before him. He slunk down beside you, laying on his side with his head propped up on his arm.

“These got bigger,” you observed as you reached for his horns. The tiny black stumps had grown longer and had a more defined horn shape. They felt cool to the touch and were ridged, similar to those of a ram. 

“They’re not the only things that got bigger,” he winked, “This is where my mana is stored. Essentially I get stronger when I consume energy.”

“Consume energy? Are you going to eat me?” you questioned with intrigue. You still believed you were in a strange dream. 

“Already did. I told you, I’m an incubus. We feed off of sexual energy. I rather enjoyed the meal. It’s too bad this will be the last time I can see you though,” he pouted.

“What? Why can’t you visit me in my dreams like you normally do?” you could get used to having dreams like this.

“Because you know that I exist. After tonight, you’ll forget all about me and I’ll get reassigned to a different human,” he answered nonchalantly.  

“Does that mean I’ll get another incubus demon?” 

“Not exactly. There are many different kinds of beings that dwell in the underworld. You could get any one of them. Most of them aren’t as fun or as handsome as me though,” he tried to lighten the conversation. 

“I don’t want to forget you, nor do I want this dream to end,” you admitted.

“Silly girl, you still think this is a dream? There actually might be a way to have me stay with you. All you have to do is make a contract with me. Interested?” the demon offered.

“A contract? Am I gonna be selling my soul to you or something? I would prefer to keep that if possible,” you tried to joke.

“I’m not that kind of demon. The contract would simply bind us together. You let me consume all of your sexual energy and I give you the best orgasms you’ll ever have. Seems like a fair deal to me,” he explained.

“So I’ll basically have a demon boyfriend? I don’t mind that, sign me up,” you nodded. You were groggy at this point and your eyelids were getting heavy.

“Boyfriend? I suppose you could put it that way. Let’s seal this deal with a kiss,” he suggested. He leaned in to your already puckered up lips. He paused mere centimeters from your face, “I’m Yoongi by the way. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier.”

You pulled him in for a soft kiss, “Hey Yoongi, I’m ___. I guess I’m your girlfriend now.” 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Yoongi interrupted your thoughts.

“About the night we met,” you answered as you pulled into your driveway.

“That was a good night. You were so cute when you called yourself my girlfriend,” he smiled.

“Shut up, I thought it was all a dream,” you said defensively as you unloaded the groceries.

“I was thinking about Valentine’s Day as you were driving in silence. I wanna give it a try. I don’t get the hype, but if it will make you happy then I’m willing to go along with it,” Yoongi stated. 

“Really?” your mouth opened with excitement, “Do I need to plan the date or are you taking the reins on this one?”

“I’ll start doing my research now,” Yoongi gave you a thumbs up. 

“Rise and shine gorgeous~” Yoongi sing songed as he opened the blinds.

You retreated back under the covers to shield yourself from the light. Yoongi tugged at the edge, making you even more aggravated. Curling up into a ball in the fetal position was your last line of defense. Once Yoongi flung off the blanket, you were done for.

“To start off your very best Valentine’s Day ever, I present you a bouquet,” Yoongi shoved a bundle of red roses in your face, causing you to sneeze. A few petals violently detached and fluttered helplessly onto the bed. 

“Thanks Yoongi, the flowers are pretty,” you managed to say with a stuffy nose, “I wish I could adore them more but flowers always trigger my allergies.”

“Hm, every romance film I watched always showed the girl loving roses,” Yoongi pondered, “Not to worry, my algorithm is flawless.”

“Are you a robot now?” you joked. The sweet smell of syrup and waffles caught your attention. Yoongi noticed this and excitedly yanked you out of bed. Normally you would bicker about the manhandling but you decided to let today be an exception. 

The living room was filled with pink and white heart shaped balloons. Yoongi dragged you to the breakfast table, where the usual placemats were replaced with red hearts and small metallic heart shaped confetti were sprinkled all across the surface. To top it off, the belgian waffles were heart shaped, outlined with whipped cream and topped with strawberries. The presentation rivaled that of an actual restaurant. 

Yoongi watched expectantly as you took the first bite. Your mouth turned into a smile as you tasted the fluffy waffle. The toppings complemented the dish perfectly, and you were hungry for more. 

“I made eggs and bacon too, though it was hard to get the eggs into a heart shape,” Yoongi sighed as he showed you his attempt to get heart sunny side eggs. The shape was wonky but it was impressive that the yolks were still well intact. 

“I don’t care what they look like, I’m sure they’ll taste great. Thank you, Yoongi, this is incredible,” you showered him with compliments as you continued to eat. Yoongi smiled with satisfaction as he took a sip of coffee, his favorite choice of sustenance from the human realm. 

“Enjoying your Valentine’s Day so far?” he asked from across the table.

“I’ve only been awake for about 5 minutes but it’s been pretty good so far,” you nodded.

“Well whenever you’re ready, go get ready for a day out,” Yoongi winked, “Dress however you want, it’ll be casual.”

You couldn’t help but wonder about what Yoongi had planned for the day. It was still a little chilly, so you put on a cute sweater paired with jeans. You accessorized with a beret and your favorite jewelry pieces. Yoongi waited for you in the living room, and his eyes lit up when he saw you. It wasn’t the usual dark lustful look he normally gave you, but rather one of fondness and genuine adoration. 

“Where are we off to now?” you asked in the passenger seat, which was a rare sight. Yoongi didn’t like to drive, he always complained about how it would be easier to just teleport. You always had to remind him that humans do not simply ‘teleport’ places and you’d surely turn a lot of heads if you did. Regardless, you enjoyed watching Yoongi drive. You admired his delicate features as he concentrated on the road.

“Can’t tell you, that you ruin the surprise,” Yoongi chided. 

Your eyes widened as he pulled into the parking lot of the local aquarium. It had been years since you last visited, and you were thrilled that Yoongi picked this place as a date spot.

“The aquarium! Ah, I’m so excited! But they aren’t inherently romantic, what made you think of coming here?” you questioned.

“I remember you mentioned wanting to come back here someday. I figured today would be a good time,” he shrugged. Yoongi’s thoughtfulness made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

Once inside, you took the liberty of pointing out every fish you thought looked pretty to Yoongi. He was amused by how much you enjoyed something as simple as looking at fish. Colorful fish chased each other around their tanks, darting between corals and other underwater plants. You loved watching them go about their lives as they vibed within the aquarium. 

“It would be nice to be a fish,” you said to Yoongi as you stared in awe at jellyfish that were nearly transparent as they carelessly floated around.

“A fish? Why?” Yoongi scoffed.

“They seem happy, and free in a way. All they do is swim around and eat, that sounds like a good time to me,” you explained.

“And worry about getting eaten by a bigger fish. I’d rather be a cat if I had to be any animal,” Yoongi countered. 

  “Okay, that’s probably a better choice,” you laughed as you imagined Yoongi as a cat. It fit him surprisingly well. 

After leaving the aquarium, Yoongi suggested walking to a nearby gelato shop. You were never one to turn down dessert, so you agreed. The air was crisp and the cold made your cheeks go slightly numb, but you didn’t mind. You happily swung Yoongi’s hand back and forth in yours, you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve been on a date that went this well.   

“___?” a voice called out to you. You looked around to see who called you. Out of nowhere, someone ran up and hugged you from behind. You let go of Yoongi’s hand in the commotion as you were spun around.

“What the--” you said in shock. Finally you were put down, and saw a familiar face grinning back at you.

“Oh my god, Jungkook!” you exclaimed as you hugged him back. He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s been forever! I didn’t know you still lived here,” you said.

“I know right?! God, like 13 years or something? I’m here visiting some old pals. We’re all single so we’re celebrating this stupid holiday together,” Jungkook laughed. 

“Aww that's cute. I guess this holiday is pretty dumb, but I’m actually celebrating it with someone this year! This is Yoongi,” you introduced Jungkook to your boyfriend. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jungkook,” the young boy extended a hand.

“Min Yoongi,” Yoongi replied curtly as he firmly shook Jungkook’s hand.

“Damn, where are you hiding all that muscle?” Jungkook joked as he clutched his hand.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Yoongi deadpanned.

“How long are you in town for? I’d love to catch up with you on another day,” you interrupted. 

“I’ll be here for a few more days. Is your number still the same? I can text you tomorrow?” Jungkook offered.

“That’s perfect, I’ll see you around!” you waved goodbye and returned your attention to Yoongi. 

You took a hold of his hand and continued walking to the gelato shop. Yoongi was noticeably quiet now, and his demeanor had completely changed. There was an awkward silence between you two as you ordered your favorite flavors. You both sat outside to eat the gelato.

“So who was he?” Yoongi finally spoke. 

“Jungkook used to be my neighbor when we were kids. We practically grew up together. He moved away sometime in middle school and I haven’t seen him since. He looks great, I almost didn’t recognize him. What? Are you jealous?” you teased.

“I almost killed him when he kissed you,” Yoongi said in a tone that let you know that he was not kidding.

“Yoongi! People greet each other that way sometimes. Sure, it was a little forward, but we used to be best friends as kids,” you scolded him. 

“Ready to go home?” Yoongi asked, completely disregarding your explanation. 

“Okay let’s go back you big baby,” you sighed as you threw away your trash.

You hummed along with the radio all the way home. Yoongi didn’t say anything the whole ride. You were surprised by his behavior, you figured an incubus wouldn’t mind seeing affection in public. He had never given you the silent treatment before, so this was uncharted waters.

“Today was really nice, I think you did a good job planning out our Valentine’s day together,” you praised Yoongi as you returned home.

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Yoongi said coldly.

“Why are you being so pouty? C’mere, let me give the big baby a hug,” you reached for him with outstretched arms. 

“You think I’d let you get away with that kind of behavior?” an annoyed Yoongi glared back at you.

“C’mon, it’s not like it really matters,” you teased, trying to push your luck.

“It matters to me. You’re mine,” Yoongi snarled, baring his fangs.

“You’ve made that abundantly clear,” you tilted your neck, revealing marks from his previous feedings, “I can’t leave the house without a crap ton of concealer to cover up your monstrous hickeys.”  

“You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to be my permanent lover,” Yoongi shrugged, his anger dissipating. 

“Who knew dating an incubus would be so tiresome,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“So that random guy kissing your cheeks doesn’t deserve to die?” he asked quietly.

“No! I told you, we’re childhood friends. I haven’t seen him in years. It’s okay to greet close friends with a friendly peck on the cheeks” you crossed your arms, “You’re being annoying. No dinner for you tonight,” you said confidently as you both entered the bedroom.

“Oh? Since when do you call the shots around here?” his voice lowered.

“Since now,” you replied defiantly. 

“Keep being cheeky, see where that gets you,” Yoongi challenged.

You smiled slyly as you pushed him onto the bed. Standing before him, you pulled off your sweater to reveal your bare chest. Yoongi instinctively reached out to grab them but you slapped his hand away.

“No touching,” you tsked as you slowly stripped off your bottoms. 

You turned to shake your ass at him. The gesture was meant to be playful, but Yoongi took it as a wage of war. He instantly pulled you onto his lap; your panties rubbed up against his hardened crotch.

“I’m hungry,” he growled in your ear as he firmly gripped your ass.

“Not my problem,” you snapped, doing your best to maintain your composure. 

“You’ll let me starve?”

“Don’t act as if you didn’t eat me out until I begged for you to stop last night,” you admonished. 

“Enough,” Yoongi silenced you.

He roughly latched his soft lips onto your neck. His harsh suckling caused you to moan and tangle your fingers in his minty green hair. You cupped his chin in an attempt to kiss him, but he pulled away. 

“You think you get to touch me now? Foolish,” he threw you further onto the bed.

With a snap of his fingers, your panties vanished. They were replaced with strict constraints as your hands and feet were bound by an intricate silk rope pattern. You’ve never been tied up like this before. You’ve dabbled in using handcuffs or fastening a belt around your wrists, but this was something else entirely. 

“You wanted to play. So let’s play,” Yoongi cooed in your ear as his fingers traced your sides.

“Oh fuck, Yoongi no,” your eyes widened.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” he smiled deviously.

His fingers dug into your sides. You burst out into a fit of laughter. You wriggled around uncontrollably in a futile attempt to get away from him. Yoongi accidentally found out that you were extremely ticklish, and ever since that day he uses it as leverage against you. It wasn’t fair at all considering that demons aren’t ticklish. 

Tears welled in your eyes when he finally ceased his attack. Yoongi also knew that tickling was a turn on for you. Something about having another person’s hands all over you made you wet. 

“You look so helpless,” Yoongi chuckled.

“Maybe these ropes have something to do with that,” you retorted as you panted.

“Still talking back? You obviously haven’t learned your lesson,” Yoongi ran his fingers along your sides.

“No, please. I can’t take anymore,” you pleaded.

“I think you can,” he smirked before tickling you again.

This time he didn’t stop until you were on the verge of passing out. The bondage made it even harder to catch your breath. Yoongi gingerly kissed your neck as you howled with laughter.

“Will you be a good girl now?” Yoongi asked as he flicked your nipples.

“Mhm,” you managed to whimper.

“I haven’t whipped out any shibari in ages, but I’m glad I did. I forgot how appetizing it makes humans look,” Yoongi licked his lips. 

“I can’t move,” you complained.

“That’s the point, my dear ___,” Yoongi kissed your forehead. 

His hand trailed down your stomach to your exposed pussy. He was pleased to find that you were already dripping wet. He rubbed circles around your clit as he licked your neck. He ferociously kissed over his previous marks as he started rubbing you faster. Your energy tasted exponentially better the more aroused you became. 

Being in such a vulnerable and powerless position turned you on so much. You found yourself at Yoongi’s mercy. Yoongi easily slipped two fingers inside of you. He curled his fingers to perfectly graze your g-spot, causing you to moan loudly. 

“You want me to fuck you?” Yoongi whispered in your ear.

“Please. I need you, Yoongi,” you begged. 

“I know you do,” he kissed your lips gently.

With another snap of his fingers, the ropes moved their position. Now your wrists were bound to your chest, and your legs were already spread open. 

Yoongi dragged his dick along your wet pussy. He loved watching you squirm beneath him as you impatiently waited for him to dick you down. He relished the erotic scene that lay before him. Witnessing you at the pinnacle of your horniess was a blessing. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

He thrusted his hips into you with inhuman force. He didn’t give you time to adjust to his thick cock; you didn’t deserve that tonight. Your cries of pleasure were music to his ears. He grabbed your chin as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip. You automatically stuck your tongue out for him.

“Good fucking girl,” Yoongi growled as you began to suck on his thumb, your tongue swirling around it.

Yoongi tugged at the ropes, making them vanish instantly. Your freedom was short lived since he immediately flipped you onto your chest. He propped up your ass, giving each cheek a firm slap. 

This position was his favorite, and admittedly yours as well. He loved the backside view, and you loved how deep he got. You were sure to lose your mind every time he got behind you. This instance was no exception. 

You reached down between your thighs to maximize your pleasure as your fingers easily toyed with your clit. Usually Yoongi wouldn’t allow you to touch yourself, but you couldn’t help it. You were too riled up from being all tied up. 

You came undone all over Yoongi’s cock. The warmth of your juices heightened Yoongi’s lust, causing him to thrust faster. He released his hot load into you, groaning as he climaxed. 

Your chest heaved as you struggled to stay awake. One of the side effects of being fucked by an incubus is that they literally can fuck you to sleep. After Yoongi cleaned you up, it was cuddle time. He ran his fingers through your hair, making it even harder not to succumb to slumber. 

“Full?” you asked with your eyes half shut.

“I’m never satiated, but I can’t complain for now,” he answered.

“Great. Happy Valentine’s Day, Yoongi,” you yawned.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, ___. I hope I lived up to your expectations,” he patted your head.

“You surpassed them,” you nodded in approval.

“Go to bed,” Yoongi stifled a laugh, “I guess it’s not a pointless holiday after all.”

Published February 9, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's [23-08-2021 - 29-08-2021] reading log is here! I read a lot again this week and I feel like it's a lovely variety of fics. Most fics are Stucky like usual, but there's at least one other ship. I am constantly amazed by the talent people have in this fandom! There was one fic I read on Tumblr that I can't seem to find unfortunately, but when I do I'll make sure to reblog and rec it 💕

Favourites are marked with a 🌻

When life gives you lemons by moonthejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 40k words, Mature] (12/15 chapters available)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

The Masseur and the Assassin by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 17k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes needed a vacation from his job. What he found was a happy ending.

The Words Breathe by buckbarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

All Steve has to do is keep his promise. When he doesn’t, Bucky gets mouthy.

Soft by this_wayward_life @wayward-lives [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

The last time he'd seen Bucky he'd looked unhealthy, with pallid skin and greasy, lanky hair. Now, Bucky shone; his hair was thick and silky, his skin a deep bronze from spending so much time outside. He was softer, too; the hard muscle that used to cover him was now replaced by soft fat, his body still strong, but in a more mundane way. His thighs were thicker, his ass plumper, and when he'd pulled Steve into the river Steve had noticed the pudge on his stomach.

Seeing Bucky so happy, well-fed and shining, was a bit of a kick in the face. For all the years they'd known each other, he'd never seen Bucky so... care-free. Now that Bucky was putting on weight, his middle soft and his body malleable, it sent a bolt of arousal through Steve every time he noticed the curves of Bucky's body.

Or: Bucky put on a bit of weight in Wakanda, and Steve is Not Coping.

🌻 Revive Another Side of Me by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Steve’s never lived in a world without Bucky, and he’s not living now. It takes them a while, much too long, to get that awaited rest, a little slice of peace after the dust has settled.Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are inseparable, history remembers. But they’re not men of the past quite yet.

🌻 imagine being loved by me by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Just after 1am - a few hours after he posted today’s photo - he hears the tell-tale sound of a twitter message. Bucky grabs his phone, not checking who it’s from as he opens it because it’s probably one of his mutuals yelling at him as per usual. When he actually looks at his phone, though, it’s not Natasha

The ‘verified’ check stares back at him for a long moment before he can even bring himself to process the name on his screen. Steve Rogers is messaging him. Or, he reasons, a very good fake. The handle looks right though, not that Bucky knows. Not that Bucky has Captain’s America’s tweets set up as notifications, or that Bucky’s own display name is set to captain america’s bitch. Not at all.

Hey, the first message says. It’s Steve.

🌻 JB’s Complete Lube Services by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

People just didn’t approach Captain America and proposition him. Although, sometimes Steve wished they would; even the pinnacle of virtue and justice needed to get dicked down from time to time.

Or, the one where Steve has the hots for a mechanic and decides to be proactive in getting that dick.

If it had to be someone by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky had known since he was a child that he didn’t have a choice in who he married, but he’d thought he had more time before the day arrived.

Miscalculations by christywantspizza @christywantspizza [Ransom Drysdale/Reader, 6k words, Explicit]

Ransom tries to get you to sleep with him by less than honorable means. You give him what he wants, just not how he wants it.

How to Seduce a Writer by obsessivereader [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

What's a determined master strategist going to do when the oblivious writer he's trying to woo keeps missing all the clues?

He doesn’t think it’s because he hadn’t signaled his own interest to Bucky. He’s pretty much done everything short of hitting Bucky over the head with semaphore flags by this point. There’s no way Bucky could’ve missed them. Unless… There’d been that one link he’d stumbled upon when he’d googled ‘how to talk to a writer’. It’d been written by a writer, who’d been candid about how oblivious writers could be, and how someone could go about seducing one. An idea starts to form. It’s ridiculous, but at this point, he’s willing to go with ridiculous, since subtle wasn’t getting him anywhere.

🌻 Pod Bless America by Deisderium @deisderium [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Bucky can't believe his favorite podficcer recorded his newest fanfic AU of the show Commandos. He's even more surprised when the customer who busts him listening to fic while he's working in the office supply store turns out to be that podficcer.

* The guy—maybe bi_shield?—took his phone, looked down at the screen, and smiled. "Yeah, that one's mine," he said with no evidence of embarrassment. "It was a good one." He handed the phone back to Bucky.

"I wrote it," Bucky croaked.

take a bite by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 7k words, Mature]

"I’d never let anyone freeze to death.” Steve gives a big sigh and flutters his lashes. “All that blood gone to waste.”

Bucky’s lips turn down and his nose scrunches up a little. “I want to be grossed out, but…”

“But you get it.” Steve gives him a pointed look. “Vampires aren’t the only ones who can appreciate how juicy blood is.”

*

Or: Vampire Steve saves newly-turned werewolf Bucky from a snowstorm.

Leaving the Shield Behind by BuckyAboveEverything [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

“So, on one hand, we have Steve Rogers - hunk, genius, animal lover. Buys you waffles and overpriced coffee. 100% wholesome all-American boy.”

“And, on the other hand, we have Capsicle – twink, smart-ass, fanboy. Reads your stories and sends you fanart. Possibly a pervert or a serial killer.”

Bucky groaned.

“I am 100% certain I am 0% sure of what to do."

Bucky Barnes, full-time copywriter and free-time fanfic writer, struggles to choose between two equally-attractive suitors, only to find that he doesn’t have to after all.

* Based on a true story *

Cap's Book Corner by Neche [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Recluse Author Bucky Barns stumbles into fanboy Steve Rogers bookstore one day...

Cat Nap by galwednesday @galwednesday [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Objectively, losing the Bucharest safehouse and its contents was the least of Bucky’s problems. The balding agent he’d seen directing the raid was apparently affiliated with SHIELD, which was a shadowy government agency that made representatives from other shadowy government agencies suddenly remember urgent appointments when Bucky tried to bribe, threaten, and otherwise shake them down for information on what the hell SHIELD might want with a former brainwashed assassin. Dodging SHIELD should be his number one priority.

Subjectively, he wanted his fucking cat back.

at any given moment by honeypuffed [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky find out that everyone thinks they're sleeping together.

Brought to Brightness by eyres [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Army veteran Bucky Barnes has fallen in love with Steve, a guy he met online a few months after he returned from Afghanistan. Only problem is, he doesn't know Steve's last name or even what he looks like.

When his sister helps him send his story into MTV's Catfish, he's hoping they can help him meet Steve or, at least, let him move on with his life if Steve isn't real. Little does he know, Steve and Captain America have more in common than just a first name.

🌻 Nokken Wood by leveragehunters @leveragehunters [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

When Sam's friend needs a house-sitter for his place in the country, Steve jumps at the chance. Six months rent-free to do nothing but draw and paint and wander the countryside, looking for inspiration? It was like a dream. But when he gets lost in a storm and nearly falls into a pond he starts to rethink the whole like a dream aspect of life in the country. And when a red-eyed, sharp-clawed, silver-fanged creature rises out of the darkness, Steve is one hundred percent certain the dream's morphed into a nightmare.

...until it gives him a cup of tea.

(Inspired partly by this prompt a supernatural creature is supposed to scare you but instead it gives you a cup of tea and a blanket because you're having a bad day and you keep coming back and partly by this painting.)

Professional Pride by galwednesday [Stucky, 700 words, Teen]

Bucky is having a very good day, until he turns around and finds himself face-to-face with Captain America.

“Oh shit,” he blurts before he can stop himself, and Captain America blinks at him. “Hey, hi, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Here, at New York’s Pride parade, surrounded by thousands of happy screaming people wearing rainbows and sometimes not much else. What is he doing here? Is he on guard duty or something? Was he just on a mission and happened to be passing by on his way back?

He’s in uniform but with the cowl loose around his neck, so when he rubs the back of his head it fluffs up his matted hair. “I, uh. I saw one of your–temporary tattoos?” Captain fucking America says, like it’s a question.

The A-bridged Guide to Trolling by galwednesday [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I don’t have any money.”

Oh no, now the girl looked upset. Her eyes were huge and her lip was wobbling. Bucky tried to think fast despite the oh shit oh shit oh shit looping through his head.

“That’s okay,” Bucky said gently. “I don’t need money. We can figure out another kind of toll.”

The girl frowned at him. “Like what?”

Bucky scratched his head, trying to think of something a kid was certain to have on hand. “Do you know any jokes?”

(Fantasy AU in which Steve is a hedge witch with a green thumb, Bucky is a bridge troll who's new in town, and knock-knock jokes are a viable form of currency.)

It's a bittersweet ending (if you know what I mean) by relenafanel [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I’ll see you around, Steve,” Bucky answers with a smirk, moving away from the counter with a wink.

Steve watches him go. Bucky’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans coated in something to give the appearance of leather. It’s impossible to not watch him go.

stuck on you by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

“Bucky? You don’t look so hot.”

Bucky makes a tiny little sound in the back of his throat, only to start coughing. Of course he doesn’t look hot. He’s sick and he’s dying and Steve obviously isn’t attracted to him.

Decision-Making in Relationships (Paid Research Opportunity!) by castiowl [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Clint looked thoughtfully at the flyer. “I guess your actual roommate wouldn’t be down with it?”

Bucky frowned. “Have you met Steve Rogers?”

no way out but through by hollimichele [Stucky, 9k words, Teen]

Steve never sees it coming.

you got blood on your hands (and i know it's mine) by nighimpossible [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Bucky refuses to see Steve after his deprogramming.

Like What You See by daisymondays [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

For all the time Bucky’s spent fantasizing about meeting Captain America, he’d never imagined it would be while posing nude in front of a drawing class.

🌻 A Real Boy by itsnotbleak [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat.

It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

Amapola by chaya [Stucky, 830 words, Teen]

Total fluff. Bucky's recovering nicely. Steve's oblivious. Sometimes it's best to set aside subtlety for action.

Knocking Boots With Sugar by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave.

Rogers and Associate by roe87 @jro616 [Stucky, 7k words, Teen]

When they first meet, Bucky is a hooker and Steve is a cop. She's been arrested, but Steve lets her off.

Years pass and they maintain a casual friendship, seeing each other out on the streets most nights.

Though he later makes detective, Steve loses faith in the system and quits his job.

He wants to set up as a private investigator, and he asks Bucky if she'd be his assistant.

Just in time by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky knew the apartment he was renting was old fashioned, but walking in the front door and finding himself transported back to 1938 was not on the list of things he had prepared himself for.

🌻 You Like What's in My Head by dontcallmebree [Stucky, 15k words, Explicit] (with art by @kocuria)

Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s a tough nut to crack or incredibly easy. The timbre of his voice, a low and almost amused, “Sure, kid,” when Bucky asks for a drink feels like something gripping him on the back of his neck.

He thinks this might be one of those moments in life he’ll pinpoint in the future and either curse at for dooming himself, or remember fondly with pride.

He’s right. Bucky Barnes blunders through falling in love with Commander Rogers and tries to find a deeper meaning behind the expensive gifts and thorough fucking.

Can I Sit Here? by BuckyFrickenBarnes [Stucky, 962 words, General]

Bucky has unusual methods for getting rid of his writer's block.

Or, Bucky needs that table.

Workplace Romance by BuckyFricken Barnes [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Bucky is under the impression that his boss hates him.

Or,

Steve needs to get better at dealing with his feelings.

🌻 1-800-MAYTAG by Miss Plum @misspluckyplum [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

Bucky just wants to get some housework done. It gets out of hand fast. Silly little fluff and smut romp with snarky stucky boys.

Eyes of the Forest by Lordelannette [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit] (2/8 chapters available)

When Omega Bucky Barnes comes to Eagle Lake, it was in search of wolves, a creature that had not been seen in the area for decades.

What he finds instead is Steve Rogers, a handsome, though quiet Alpha who seems to be everywhere in the forest.

[thefanficmonster]

Strictly Professional

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: HUMOR, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A slip of the tongue leads Corpse to make an unexpected confession which leads to him getting lectured by his best friend. That’s all you need to know, the rest shall unfold before your eyes.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request! I’m so sorry it’s been so long overdue but here it finally is and I really hope you come across it and read it. If so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

I’ve buried my head under my arms, resting it on my desk as my ears are still violated by the hollering coming from my headset. I don’t know what in me snapped out of nowhere or what caused the slip-up, but what matters is that it happened and now I’m in some hot water. I’m practically the soup everyone in this Discord call at the moment will be eating for dinner tonight, getting a real kick at my expense - some even having the audacity to be mad at me over it - ahem, Rae, ahem - but bottom line: I won’t live this down easily.

“Hey everyone! What did I miss?“ Sykkuno, who was running late and missed this entire debacle makes an appearance. If it were any other occasion, I’d be overjoyed to hear he’s finally joining us, but his question of what he had missed renders me only able to cringe and wait for my friends’ next move.

“Sykkuno!“ Rae exclaims ecstatically, “Oh, strap in, imma tell you what you missed...“

“No, you won’t tell him, Rae.“ Toast cuts her off, sounding uncharacteristically serious, especially when taken into account how hard he was laughing just a moment ago, “This is Corpse’s tale to tell, don’t spare him the shame of telling it one more time.“

And just when I thought this fucker would prove himself to be a true friend...

“Oof, this sounds serious...“ Sykkuno says to fill the silence I purposely let linger just so I don’t give these bullies the satisfaction of hearing my embarrassment all over again even though they inevitably will.

“It is...“ I sigh with a heavy heart, hiding my face in the palm of my hand, “It’s really bad and embarrassing and...I’d rather not retell it at all let alone for a second time, but here it goes...“ I inhale as much air as I can as a method of gaining confidence before I start talking, “So you know MGK and I made a song. Yeah well, we’re gonna be making a music video for it and I asked Rae to be in it. Thing is, I wanted to ask Y/N first. Buckle up, this is where it starts going downhill: ok so I went over to their place so we could just chit chat an marathon a few movies like we usually do over the weekends but I also wanted to bring up the whole ‘hey, wanna be in my music video’ thing but didn’t know how. Mind you, we were drinking beers this whole time, might’ve had a few too many actually. Ok, we definitely had a few too many, but back on track: as I was blabbering and stumbling over my words, nervous as all hell and unable to string the simple question inside my head, all Y/N did was tilt their head and smile at me. You know, the odd thing is it was a genuine smile, not a drunken grin like you’d expect from someone on their fourth beer bottle. And then, out of the blue, they had the audacity to hit me with: ‘You’re so cute’ and I just sat there frozen for a few seconds. I mean, my reaction was on point - who wouldn’t react like that if their crush told them they found them cute. Anyway - I was like ‘what?’ and then, out of an even bluer blue, they freaking kissed me. I nearly had a heart attack damn it!“

“And he never asked them to be in the DAYWALKER music video!“ Rae clearly couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I didn’t get the time! I was out of there in the blink of an eye!“ I bark, feeling my face heating up with embarrassment and regret. God, I should never ask how stupid I can get because I keep surprising myself in the end with just how far my stupidity goes. It’s fucking insane.

“Oh God, poor Y/N.“ Sykkuno sighs, sounding only a tiny bit as though he’s about to laugh. I appreciate his self-control honestly, the rest of these fuckers were dying laughing as though our friends and my crush kissing me and me responding like I had an allergic reaction was the best joke to ever be told.

“Poor Y/N?“ I snap a little, “What about me?“

“Yeah, poor Y/N!“ Rae backs Sykkuno up, “Poor Y/N and poor me for the missed opportunity to me in a music video for a song of one of my best friends with another one of my best friends. Corpse, you better fix this!!“

“How?!“ I’m aware I sound desperate but I seriously wanna fix it just have no idea how to go about it. I mean, if this looney group of nine people over here don’t come up with a plan no one will so not all hope for me is dead just yet. Even if we all had only one braincell we’d still be able to figure it out - I mean, ten braincells ain’t as bad as it sounds. Truth be told, Y/N’s the real brain of the group and they’d most definitely be able to help me - so fuck the irony.

“Call them.“ Sykkuno suggests so casually as though it’s a no-brainer. I’d go as far as to say his nonchalance almost made me laugh. Has he forgotten who he’s talking to? 

“No way.“ I turn that down real quick, unable to even imagine the course of that phone call without cringing.

“No, Sykkuno’s right, call them right here right now. Ask them to star in the music video and then swerve the conversation to that kiss.“ Charlie’s suddenly decided to join the torturing being preformed upon me over here.

“What will I even say? I have no idea what to tell them!“ I complain, aware that I sound like a tantrum-throwing toddler but it’s really not my fault.

“Corpse. Corpse dear, listen to me, follow each word I say really carefully, ok?“ Rae asks, her voice now pitched as though she’s addressing an actual child. Yeah, that’s her well-known way of mocking me. “How about you say the actual fucking words. You know: ‘Hey Y/N, MGK and I are making a music video for DAYWALKER, wanna be in it?’“

I sigh, clearly defeated.

I pull out my phone, muttering to the crowd I’m about to speak in front of to be quiet as I put the ringing call on speaker, sweating like a pig the whole time. The room has risen in temperature and this hoodie has thickened, providing more warmth that’s more suffocating than comforting when it’s a hundred degrees outside. Or when I’m about to talk to my crush after THAT incident.

“Hello?“ Y/N’s voice on the other side rips me from my thoughts’ grasp, reminding me I’m on a mission.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?“ I reply a little too quickly. Not giving them the time to reply with anything, I continue: “Hey Y/N, MGK and I are making a music video for DAYWALKER, wanna be in it?“

DAMN IT WHY DID YOU HAVE TO SAY IT WORD FOR WORD?!?!

“Oh....“ They sound confused - and rightfully so - but then regain their composure finally, “I-I’d love to. Thanks for the opportunity, Corpse. I’m so happy you’ve made it so far. I’d be honored to be in the music video.“

Ok, that’s partial relief. Now - time for the second phase of this plan

“Uh....“ and there goes my whole vocabulary out the window, “You’re welcome.“

“Cool...cool...“ they mutter awkwardly, clearly looking for a way to end the call, “Um, by the way...this is strictly professional, right?“

No! No it’s not! Of course it isn’t! I’ve been head over heels for you for a year now, damn it!

“Of course, o-of course it is. No worries.“ I reply, once again, a little too quickly. Faster than I could’ve prevented it.

“Ok cool...well, text me the details....“ They once again trail off, hoping I’ll catch the hint.

And so I succumb.

“Will do.“ I sigh, “See ya.“

“See ya.“ They reply and hang up.

I’m left there staring at my phone screen with utter self-disappointment and frustration that’s so intense I cannot even express it in any way.

The whole lobby is at a loss of words too - all nine of them astonished by my stupidity. Fortunately though, Charlie is quick to pull himself together and speak up because God forbid Charlie ever falls speechless, then we’d be SERIOUSLY in danger.

“Corpse. You. Are. The. Biggest. Fucking. Idiot.“

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Three in the Morning

Prompt: May i ask for a short story of Sam and Bucky being platonic boyfriends? Bucky is having a rough day (flashbacks, or panic/anxiety attacks??) And Sam helps him? Or Sam is having a shit day and Bucky tries to help? I just one of them being hurt and them comforted by the other? Plz and thanks

Ahhh no thank you it feels good to be back in the marvel mode. Tfatws SLAPPED let’s be real. Also they didn’t have to go so hard with the bisexual energy in that last episode but they sure as hell did

Read on Ao3

Warnings: our boi sam got PTSD and it ain’t great, other than that, all fluff

Pairings: sambucky, can be platonic or romantic I don’t care

Word Count: 2597

 It’s been one of those days. Where suddenly there’s a little kid on the corner of the street and all he can think of is how much Riley would’ve loved walking around New York with him, seeing everyone living. Not trying to accomplish anything past just today. Nothing else but just existing. But then when Sam looks behind him, Riley’s not there.

Or then he wakes up in the middle of the night and all he can hear is the soldiers on the ground, telling him not to let them die. And he looks down at his hands expecting to see them covered in blood only to see them shaking in the dark.

 So he stumbles into the kitchen because God knows he won’t get back to sleep tonight and he knows he needs to get some food and liquids into his body. He stops when he sees Bucky behind the counter. He glances up when he rounds the corner and gives him a little wave.

 He’s baking. At…three in the morning. By the light of the under-cabinet bulbs, near-silent, Bucky Barnes is baking in the kitchen at three in the morning.

  Since when does Bucky know how to bake?

 Bucky motions for him to sit, which he does. He tries to open his mouth and ask what’s going on. Bucky doesn’t look away from his work and slides a full glass of water across the counter along with a bowl of pretzels.

 Huh.

 He downs the water pretty quickly, watching him roll out the dough and cut it into little circles on the tray. Is he…?

 Sam snaps out of his daze when Bucky carefully takes the empty glass and turns to the fridge. The soft click-buzz of the water dispenser begins to cut through the static in his head. The glass slides back to him. Bucky goes back to work, still quiet.

 He keeps drinking, slower this time, as he watches Bucky separate the dough, place the clean-cut circles onto a tray covered in baking paper, and re-roll the remains to be used again. In the dim light, his metal arm looks almost wet.

 It isn’t until that arm reaches out to take the empty glass again that Sam realizes he’s staring.

 Bucky keeps his glass full until the tray is covered in little round dough pats. He turns, slides the tray into the oven, sets the timer with a few beeps. Then he reaches to grab the kettle—how long has that been there?—and fills the blue beaker of a mug they bought on a whim when they walked into the new little corner shop at the end of the block and felt too awkward leaving without buying anything. He reaches into the cupboard, pulls out a tea bag from whatever herbal mess the neighbors gave them this time, and dunks it in the water.

 He reaches again, taking another mug—the big cream one Sarah practically forced into his hands—and doing the same. He pulls open the drawer and takes one of the softer dish towels and wraps it around the mug. Turning, he sets it carefully in front of Sam and raises his own mug to his lips. Damn metal arm means he doesn’t realize how hot it really is and just about burns his mouth.

 Bucky hides a smile over the rim of his own mug.

 Sam sits, Bucky stands, drinking tea in their kitchen alone at three in the morning. A car drives by outside. The breeze makes the leaf shadows dance on the wall.

 It’s quiet.

 It’s really quiet.

 None of the hectic screaming wheels, none of the chatter of thousands of voices, none of the flashing numbers in his HUD trying to tell him what to do, where to go, what calculation to make next.

 It’s just…quiet.

 Until the oven beeps. Bucky’s quick reflexes keep the volume from deafening them but goddamnit can they invent a ‘night mode’ where the microwave and the oven and the kettle understand that it’s three in the goddamn morning and so they should pipe the fuck down?

 Bucky reaches for the mitt and slides it on. He reaches down and pulls out the tray. He sets it carefully on the stove, reaches out to turn off the oven, and grabs a spatula. Sam’s eyes glued to his back as he turns back and forth, picking up something with the spatula and setting it down on a rack to cool. He could pick up the paper from the tray and move the whole thing at once, but this feels better.

 There’s something about humans really liking simple, repetitive motions. It’s why watching the waves is so calming, watching those gif things that Peter likes to send in the group chat loop over and over and over, not that they’d ever admit that. Watching Bucky turn, bend, lift, and slide the spatula back and forth, back and forth, at three in the morning.

 At last, he sets down the spatula and picks up the plate, turning around and setting it between them on the counter.

 Perfect, golden brown biscuits. Mama Wilson’s favorite comfort food.

 Sam’s stomach growls.

 Bucky’s mouth quirks up in a smile and he turns around, grabbing two little plates from the cupboard and the butter from the fridge. The butter knife makes a clatter as it decides you know what, fuck gravity, and all but jumps out of his hand. Bucky grabs it, looking at it like it just sprouted wings, before shaking his head and setting everything down. He slides his tea mug to the side and takes the top off the butter, stepping back and leaning on the counter. He indicates the plate.

 Sam tilts his head.

 They’re all so fluffy. And round. And brown. And god, they smell incredible. He looks around for the lumpy one.

 The lumpy one is another one of Mama Wilson’s traditions. There’s never really enough dough to make all the perfectly circular biscuits, so the last one just kind of gets…smushed together. It always ended up tasting the best.

 There it is.

 He nods to the biscuit third from the left. Bucky nods, picking up and buttering the top, setting it on one of the little plates. Sam just picks up the biscuit and takes a bite.

 Bucky huffs quietly and picks up the plate to catch his crumbs.

 …damn he’s missed homemade biscuits. The butter melts in his mouth and the biscuit is so, so good.

 “So?” Bucky smiles at him. “How’d I do?”

 “You steal the recipe?”

 “Sarah gave it to me,” he says, picking his own biscuit and reaching for the knife, “thought I’d let it sit in the drawer for too long.”

 “Mm.”

 “Take it that means I did a good job?”

 Sam nods, still munching. A bit of butter drops onto the plate and he shovels the rest of it into his mouth before more can fall. Bucky chuckles.

 “Good thing I made a bunch.”

 “Mhm.” Sam reaches for another one, only to pause and stare at whatever the hell Bucky thinks he’s doing.

 The man has the knife in the biscuit, cutting it in half. Bucky looks up to see why Sam’s frozen only to have the audacity to look confused while Sam’s staring at him like he’s grown another head. Which he has, basically.

 “What the hell are you doing to that poor baked good?”

 “What’re you talking about?” Bucky finishes dissecting the biscuit and cuts a slab of butter, placing it inside like a sandwich and smushing the top back on. “This is how I eat biscuits.”

 “You’re making an abomination over there, that’s what you’re doing.”

 “No, see, ‘cause this way the butter starts to melt and you don’t have as much biscuit without it.”

 “Look at how many crumbs you’re spraying everywhere, you’re letting a quarter of the biscuit escape!”

 “That’s what the plate’s for.”

 Sam shakes his head. “You disrespect the biscuit.”

 “I respect it just fine. You’re the one that refuses to let the butter melt all the way before eating it.”

 “The butter’s not supposed to melt all the way! It’s supposed to be a little cold.”

 “It’s also messier.”

 “What’s the point of eating biscuits and butter if your fingers aren’t sticky by the end of it?”

 Bucky just pops his abomination into his mouth and smirks. He wiggles his fingers.

 “No butter.”

 “Pass me the butter knife.”

 “Don’t knock it till you try it!”

 “Here’s the deal. I’ll give you a biscuit the right way—“

 “You mean your way—“

 “—and you can give me one of your Frankenstein monsters,” Sam says, “and we’ll see.”

 “You’re on.”

 Sam takes a biscuit and slathers butter over the top of it. He holds it out.

 “Thank you,” Bucky says, graciously accepting the plate, “and don’t stare at mine like it’s a piece of gum on the sidewalk.”

 “It ain’t right, Buck.”

 “Why don’t you try it first?”

 Sam bites into the biscuit. Well, the biscuit is still delicious, but…

 “Where’s the butter?”

 “It’s in there.”

 “Where? I can’t taste it!”

 “I put it in there!”

 “Well no wonder it don’t taste right, there’s no butter in here.”

 “I put butter in there!”

 “It just tastes like you cut a biscuit in half and tried to put it back together, there is no butter in here.”

 He looks up to see Bucky pouting—yes, the man pouts—at his metal arm. He looks up at Sam with the most woebegone puppy-dog expression and holds out his hand.

 “I got butter in my fingers.”

 “That’s the point, Buck.”

 “You put so much butter on it!”

 “If you aren’t licking butter off your fingers by the end of it,” he repeats, “you’re doing it wrong.”

 Bucky gives him a look before bringing his hand to his mouth and trying to lick off the butter. It, uh, doesn’t go well.

 “At least it’s not like salt,” he mutters as he wets a rag to try and clean it properly, “you can’t just tell me to add more in this case.”

 “Salt’s a natural flavor enhancer, man, that’s why you put it in the biscuits to begin with.”

 Bucky looks up at him with a smirk. “That sounds like something you’d say when Sarah calls you out for being too sassy.”

 “It’s a natural flavor enhancer,” he defends.

 Bucky chuckles. After a moment, Sam feels his own mouth turn up too.

 It’s the first time all day he’s managed to smile.

 Judging by the way Bucky softens a moment later, setting aside the rag, he’s caught that much too.

 “When I was younger,” he says quietly, leaning against the counter again, “my mamma used to keep a wooden box of recipes in the drawer with the false bottom.”

 He smiles and taps the counter.

 “It was the last drawer on the right, second from the bottom. No one would ever think to look in there if they didn’t know what they were looking for.” He shakes his head. “Just a little wooden box, ‘bout—“ he holds his hands six inches apart— “that big.”

 Sam nods.

 “Just scraps in it,” Bucky continues, picking up his mug of tea again, waiting for Sam to do the same, “magazine clippings, newspaper bits, letters from relatives I couldn’t remember, lids from food containers that went straight into the ‘chuck at assholes box’—“ Sam huffs— “and notebook pages, scribbled down in my horrible six-year-old handwriting.”

 “Oh, I’m sure it was just fine.”

 “I could never get the ‘g’ to look right, it always looked like I was trying to write a nine with a limp.”

 “A limp?”

 “Yeah, like it tried to hop along and sprained its ankle.”

 “Nines are supposed to be curly at the end.”

 “What? No, they aren’t.”

 “You ever looked at your phone? The nine is curly at the end.”

 “Yeah but no one ever writes ‘em like that.”

 “It’s supposed to be like that!”

 “So that’s how you write ‘em?”

“Hell yeah, that’s how I write ‘em.”

 “Well, good for you.” Bucky chuckles. “My ‘g’s looked more like a nine with its tail broken, how’s that?”

 “What’d you do to the ‘g’s, man?”

 “Apparently, six-year-old me decided they were too hard to draw. But Mama never had a hard time deciphering my handwriting.”

 Bucky’s voice goes back to that quiet nostalgia as Sam cups the mug of tea between his palms.

 “She’d pick a scrap from the box and decide that’s what she was gonna bake. A surprise when I came to see what she was doing. Sometimes she’d have me stick my hand in there and grab one instead. Then I’d stick around to help.”

 Bucky huffs a laugh, letting his head drop for a second.

 “But she always had one recipe memorized.”

 Sam shifts. “Which one was that?”

 “Mama Barnes’s chocolate chip cookies,” Bucky murmurs, looking back up, “her favorite thing to bake because she could do it with her eyes closed.”

 He looks up at Sam.

 “Or in the dark, when it was too dangerous to have the lights on.”

 Oh.

  Oh.

 Sam swallows. “Thank you, Buck.”

 Bucky waves him off, shaking his head. “Actually, it’s, uh, kinda selfish of me.”

 Sam frowns as Bucky turns, walking over to another cupboard and taking two bags down from the shelf.

 “Couldn’t decide which one to use,” he says, holding up a bag of name-brand chocolate chips and a fancy chocolate chunk bag from the last big fancy thing they were invited to, “needed your input before I started.”

 Sam blinks. “You’re having cookies and biscuits on the same night?”

 “Well, I’m not going to sleep anytime soon,” he says easily, “and I figured you still owe me from that bet you won.”

 “Oh ho, I see,” Sam says, sliding off the stool, “you think you’re gonna get out of this by making me choose and not me telling you what to do?”

 “I think you’re either gonna sit there and drink that cup of tea while I do this or you’re gonna get your ass over here and help me.”

 “Well then move your ass,” Sam says, bumping lightly into Bucky’s shoulder, “and get to cleaning off that pan.”

 “You haven’t picked yet!”

 “We’re not using those chunks, man, we’re saving those.”

 Bucky shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”

 “And put these outta harm’s way,” he calls, passing Bucky the plate of biscuits, “I ain’t risking you getting butter and flour all over ‘em.”

 Bucky just chuckles and sets the plate on the far end of the counter. He turns around to pass Sam the chocolate chips when Sam takes his hand and just holds it.

 Holds it and breathes.

 Bucky lets him, shifting slightly into guard dog mode, his shoulders dropping as Sam lets his eyes close for a moment.

 In.

 Out.

 “Thanks.”

 Bucky squeezes. “You want the plastic mixing bowl or the ceramic one?”

 “Gimme the ceramic one, these are gonna come out right.”

 “I take it you want the good tray as well, then.”

 “Of course I do, what do you think this is?”

 Baking, together, in the dark, where it’s safe and quiet, at three in the morning.

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 21: best friend’s sister

Character A poses as their best friend’s lover for a Christmas party. Character B is the best friend’s sister,, percabeth

Percy truly doesn’t understand how it’s come to this.

He likes to think that he has at least some form of dignity, but he is quickly proven wrong as he is shoved into a suit by someone that has the audacity to call herself his friend.

“Quit pouting,” Piper chastises, pulling on his tie just a bit too tightly. He chokes dramatically, glaring at her, but she just rolls her eyes. “You agreed to this.”

“I did not agree to this,” he says. “I was simply there when your mom told you to bring a ‘lover’ to the party, and you held me at gunpoint.”

“You love it,” she says, laughing. It’s the complete opposite of the truth because he actually hates this, but his windpipe is cut off so he’s incapable of actually pointing that out.

“There’s no way anyone’s going to fall for this.”

She laughs. “Everyone will fall for this, and that’s why it’s perfect. No one’s seen us in forever since we moved away for college. We can just frame it as two best friends falling in love.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know if I can do that. I look at you and want to vomit.” Piper gasps in mock offense. “You never had feelings for me? Not even small ones?”

“I had feelings for a lot of people, but believe it or not, you were never one of them. Not then, not now, not ever.”

“You really just friend zoned your best friend,” Piper says.

“I’m in love with someone else,” he lies.

Piper snorts. “You’re in love with my sister.”

His smile falls. “I am not. You take that back.”

“Relax, Percy. I think it would be cute if you got with her. You could marry into the family!” She claps her hands before pausing. “We could just never talk about sex again. I don’t want to hear about how you blew my sister’s back out.”

Percy shrieks. “Piper!”

She just laughs, throwing the jacket of his suit in his face and motioning for him to follow him out the front door. He hurls insults at her as he settles into the driver’s seat – also against his will, by the way – but she just throws them right back at him.

The hour drive home is spent with them being about as stupid as possible. They scream along with the music blasting in the car until they’re both laughing so hard they can’t breathe. It helps ease his nerves because he knows who’s going to be at this Christmas party, no matter how hard he tries to deny it.

He can’t even say her name right now because if he does, he might crash just so he doesn’t have to face her. It’s almost as though Piper can sense his frustration because she turns the music even louder until the car is shaking with the bass and he can’t hear his own thoughts.

Percy never ceases to be amazed by the wealth of Piper’s family. The second he walks into the manor, he is overwhelmed by the silvers and golds lining every inch of the place. It’s funny because he grew up around them, but it was always a stark contrast to the way his own life was. He could live a million lifetimes and never get used to being around people with this amount of money.

“So you’re rich rich,” Percy teases, just as he always does when they come home for the holidays,

“I’m wealthy,” she corrects, leading him along the corridors to the center of the party.

“Old money or new?”

“The type that could have you killed with the snap of my fingers,” she answers.

“Oh, please do not have me killed, your highness.” He grins cheekily as they walk into the center of the event.

“I must admit I’m liking the title,” she says. She stops him just before they are close enough to be noticed by anyone else, turning serious, and Percy fails miserably to match her tone. “From here on out, you’re my boyfriend, okay?”

“Oh god, I just threw up in my mouth.”

“That means having to kiss me at least once,” Piper says. “On the lips.”

“Please don’t make me.”

“I will never hear the end of this is they find out we’re faking, so start acting like a good boyfriend.”

“Uh.”

“Kiss me.”

“No.”

“Percy.”

“I can’t do it.”

“You’re going to plant one on these lips, or I’m going to pick up one of the silver forks and stab you with it.” “Fuck you.”

“Yeah, well if you’d kiss me, we might be able to get there.”

And then: “This is getting painful to watch.”

Percy and Piper both jump at the extra voice present. He turns his head so fast he nearly gets whiplash, and of course it’s her.

“Annabeth, my love!” Piper greets, giving her a lazy side hug. “I was just trying to get my boyfriend to kiss me.”

“Hm. I didn’t know you two were dating,” she says, a pointed grin towards Percy.

“Christmas surprise,” Piper adds, addressing Percy. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”

“You act like Annabeth’s my distant aunt,” Percy says, but he wraps her in a sweet hug anyways. It makes his heart stutter just the tiniest bit, and he has to force himself under control.

It’s embarrassing that he’s this caught up on her. It makes him feel a little guilty too, because she’s practically still a baby. He remembers when she was in diapers, wandering around the house with a pacifier while him and Piper messed around with play dough. Still, she had grown up, and he had too, and he hadn’t accounted for how pretty she would grow to be.

Okay, so he’s not that much older than her. He’s twenty, and she’s eighteen, so he supposes it’s acceptable, but now he’s in college and she’s still in high school, so things have grown… weird? He just doesn’t see her as much as he used to, and something in her changed. When she was younger, she would cling to him, but recently, she just looked at him with something he couldn’t pinpoint.

It looks similar to the face she has on now, actually.

“So you two are a couple now?” Annabeth asks, but Percy doesn’t really hear her. He’s too distracted looking everywhere except her short black dress she has on, or the way her curls fall perfectly onto her chest, or the gloss of her lips.

Piper elbows him, and he clears his throat. “Yeah. The happiest. We’re so in love. I want Piper’s babies.”

“Hm. From what I’ve heard, I wouldn’t have thought that was very true,” Annabeth says, giving him a knowing look.  It makes him wonder just what she’s heard. “Anyways, dinner’s about to start. Why don’t you go show everyone just how in love you are, oh-so-real couple?”

Piper laughs, but Percy glares at her. He’s given no choice but to follow Piper as she skips towards the dinner, and Annabeth follows at a distance, eyes analyzing them. Annabeth clearly hadn’t fallen for the disguise for even two seconds, so it has him worrying the rest of the night.

He is rightfully worried because the dinner does not go at all as expected. Annabeth is directly to his right, and Piper to his left, and they seem determined to kill him. Piper’s all lovey on the outside, which is not something he’s used to in the slightest, and it has the entire family’s attention on him. They coo over the new ‘couple,’ and Annabeth laughs into the hand covering her mouth.

Annabeth clearly enjoys the entertainment, and also relishes in embarrassing him even more because she’s started playing footsy under the table, running her heels up and down his ankle. He does his best to not make a face, but then her hand occasionally brushes against his wrist, and it has him wondering what it all means. Annabeth is much more handsy today than she’s been… ever, and he’s enjoying it more than he should with his fake girlfriend next to him, so the next opportunity he gets to leave, he takes full advantage.

He twists and turns through the halls, gets lost about five times before finding somewhere that looks remotely familiar, and then repeating the process. It’s a good few minutes before he finds an empty balcony and pushes open the doors to step outside.

It’s not to take a moment to breathe, really, because he’s fine. It’s just overwhelming, he supposes, sitting next to the girl he’s almost ninety percent sure he’s crushing on that he probably shouldn’t be, and his best friend who is apparently his girlfriend now.

“Hey, Piper’s boyfriend,” a voice calls. “You good?”

Percy rolls his eyes fondly, turning around. “Did you need something, Piper’s sister?”

She just shrugs and steps forward. “Just thought I’d come tease you a little bit.”

“Tease me?”

“A fake relationship? Really?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he says. “You’re, like, twelve.”

“I’m eighteen, but nice try.”

“A baby,” he emphasizes, heart suddenly beginning to race as she drags her fingers up his chest, tugging lightly on the tie. “Do you need something or not?”

“I guess I just have a question,” she says, leaning against the rail now. “So. I’ve heard things. Suspected even longer because even if I’m two years younger, I’m about two years smarter.”

He laughs. “What do you want to know?”

“You liked me,” she says. “Back in high school, I think.”

It’s a blow to his lungs, and he can’t find the air to breathe. He knew she’d bring it up at some point, because even if they never acknowledged it, it’s been floating between them, unsaid. He never acted on it because she was practically his own little sister at some point, and she’s Piper’s sister, and it just felt wrong.

“I think so,” he answers. “I don’t know.”

“Explain?”

“You’re Piper’s sister,” he tries.

“I’m Piper’s sister. I’m also your friend.” Annabeth tilts her head, a slight smile pulling at her lips. “What’s the problem then?”

“I–” He blinks. “I don’t know. I guess there isn’t one, really. It just never turned to anything more before I graduated, and now I’m hours away.”

“That leads me to my next question.” She stands again to face him head on. “You’re in college now. I haven’t seen you more than five times since you graduated two years ago. Are those feelings still there?”

“I don’t recall you ever being so upfront,” he teases. He doesn’t need to take time and think about her question though. He already knows the answer. He knows it every single time Piper says her sister’s name, or one of Annabeth’s pictures pops up on his timeline. He likes his best friend’s sister.

It might be more than just a crush.

(Definitely more than a crush.)

“I love you, Annabeth,” he says, “but I don’t want to do anything that might make things different, you know? I grew up with you, and I grew up with Piper, and if something happens, Piper will take your side, and I’ll lose the two people I love most, and–”

“That’s not what I asked,” she says. “I asked if the feelings are still there.”

From the way she’s looking at him, he doesn’t need to answer. “Why are you asking if you already know the answer.”

“Because I want to know if it would still be a good time to kiss you, like I’ve wanted to do for the last two years.”

Percy chokes out a laugh. “Annabeth.”

“You love me, Percy. It’s obvious to see it’s as more than a friend, and it always has been.” She bites at her bottom lip. “Do you know how many people I’ve had tell me that you and I would work well together?”

“I’m assuming a lot.”

“Piper was the number one supporter, surprisingly enough,” she tells him. “And I know you’re on a date with my sister, but she practically shoved me out of the dining room chair to come follow you, so it’s safe to say she wants this too.”

“Piper has issues.”

“Yeah, but you love her, and you love me.” Percy’s fingers fidget, because even though all of this has been swimming around inside him for years, hearing it from her is something else entirely.

“It’s only weird if you let it be,” she says, and something breaks inside of him.

Annabeth’s his friend too, and she’s a part of his life.

He loves her, so he kisses her.

It feels an awful lot like coming home. Suddenly, nothing else matters except him and her. Annabeth is his best friend’s sister, but she’s also his best friend too, and the person he loves and always has.

He distantly realizes that it’s going to be difficult to explain to her family how he went from being Piper to Annabeth, but right now, he can’t bring himself to care. It’ll be a cute story to tell in the future if this ever turns to anything more. He really hopes it does.

Annabeth is his family, and his best friend, and she is the one he was meant to be with from the start.

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 4

Welcome back! Hope you enjoy✨

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Violence, cursing, shouting, and fighting. No blood mention. Just broken bones and stuff.

2.1k+ words [originally 1.6k but I revised it and added more details!]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5 Part 6

Sensing another one behind me, I went low and struck his leg with mine, using his fall to punch his chin with my right fist this time, being careful to use a controlled amount of force or else the nerve I hit will result to permanent brain injury and can be fatal.

I got up, swift in my actions as I saw the guy with a raised baseball bat heading towards me from my left flank, and the other one from the right, fast.

On reflex, I leaned back, the bat that was aimed at me hitting his comrade on the shoulder instead. Guy's lucky, actually. He would have suffered internal bleeding if it bashed the side of his skull.

Four down, two to go.

I took my stance once again to ready myself. This dude was a foot taller than me, with muscles packed with raw strength, but even so, pale in comparison to Tai'chi's p—

Stop thinking that! Focus!

"Smash her head Dan!" The man behind him yelled.

This 'Dan' went straight to me with his bat raised with intent once more.

Breathe in.

Everything slowed down. I let my heart rate decelerate, my hearing sharpened, my sense of smell heightening even further.

I closed my eyes, letting the rest of my senses take over. Years of practice, days of pain from training, each motion engraved to my entire body with purpose. To defend not only myself, but also those who are looked down upon, discriminated and stepped on like dirt. My parents had always taught me to defend myself. Me. Don't get me wrong, my parents are good people, albeit wary of the other races in our community. But the moment I left the roof of my home, I knew it was time for me to defend someone other than myself. I don't give a damn about where we come from or what kind of blood flows within our veins. I will protect those who need protecting, and set anyone straight and down to the ground when they deserve it.

Breathe out.

At the last few moments, with my eyes still shut, I changed my form. I followed his aura and pictured out the shape that was drawing up to land a serious blow to my head. Dan is solid and heavy, but everyone has at least one weakness. And this guy is not spared from that.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

I opened my right fist, right foot forward and relaxed my arms, my legs serving as a firm foundation for my upper body. With the bat inches away from me, I smoothly dodged to the side, using my palm to push away the hand holding the weapon and punched a vital pressure point right under his bicep.

I bent my legs even lower and struck the center of his ribs with my thumb, closing my hands as I jabbed his sciatic nerve on each side at the same time, both located in the middle line of the thigh between the groin and the knee. A solid blow to those nerve points will cause intense pain and shock to the person, along with a temporary immobility of the feet.

a/n: Self defense 101! Remember that dear readers♥

With the support of my left leg, I went behind the man, standing straight and proud. Calm, I opened my eyes when I heard his fall, staring right into the fearful ones of the moron that started all of this.

"Y-You- You killed them!"

Is he that dumb?

"Correction, I didn't. I knocked them unconscious is all. And the fellow that attacked me first? Well, he passed out from the pain of his now funny-looking arm." I stated flatly as I trudged to where he was standing.

"S-Stay away from me! Monster! Freak!" He stumbled, his ass on the ground and away from me until he felt a tree trunk on his back.

I scoffed and withdrew my knuckle dusters back under my baggy sleeve.

"You wanna know who the real monster is?" I stopped and held him in place with my scrutinizing gaze. He was trembling like a wimp at this point.

"It's you.

"You and your disgusting racist friends.

"You, along with all the people who view and treats anyone other than humankind as lowlifes and pests that are meant to be squished and eradicated from the society.

"No, it's you, and the ones who have the same mentality as you, who are monsters under the guise of a human."

I paused, not even blinking as I bore holes into his skull.

"I am human, down to every inch of my being. But unlike you, I respect and treat everyone, regardless of kind or gender, and to those who deserve it, fair and right."

Before I could continue, I scented new people coming into the scene. It was the teaching staff, along with the uni's guard.

Shocked of what they have seen, they turned towards me, angry, surprised, confused expressions on different faces.

"What have you done?!" A female, human instructor, looking to be around her late 20s shouted.

"Ma'am, if you would just let me explain—"

"You are hereby expelled from this institution, young lady!"

All the color of my skin left me as I heard the words I have dreaded even before I set foot in the campus grounds.

"Now let's not go straight to conclusions. We need to deal with this professionally AND properly Miss Holson. You are also not in authority to suspend this student." A heavily bearded dwarven professor, clad in a brown suit and Oxfords, told her off firmly.

"What are you saying Mr. Dulrik? Look at her! Look at this! She murdered students and oh my God, is that the dean's son?!"

For the love of— she blind? Why does everybody think I killed someone???

"Ma'am they are—" I was about to tell her but got cut off, again!

"Helpmehelpmehelpme!" He scrambled away from me and ran to the group of teachers and hugged the young instructor. "I don't know what came over her! She just attacked us out of nowhere!"

The audacity of this fucking bitch!

"Pardon me? Attacked you? YOU were the one who followed me out here! You and your" —I gestured to the bodies laying flat on the ground— " buddies over there!"

"She is lying! The orc was with her and and and—"

It dawned on me that I almost forgot about Tai'chi. My eyes widened, and I frantically scanned the area around for him. And there he was, standing by the oak tree, right where I told him not to move.

He seemed...irritated?

Oh no. At me?

"I have not moved an inch from where I am standing ever since I planted my feet here." He said with his deep baritone voice, turning to confront the staff. "What she's speaking is the truth. They were the ones who followed her here and attacked her, first."

"And how can we be sure you are telling the truth, orc?" Miss Holson replied spitefully.

Even the teacher, huh? Her odor smells like vomit. I mean, I knew she was...foul, but I thought it was because of the situation. Guess not.

Tai'chi did not respond. Instead, he moved to look at me in the eyes. His gaze, searching, but not in an awful way. Was he asking me what I'll do?

"How about we discuss this in the office, shall we?" An elderly professor spoke. She was wearing the university's formal teaching uniform together with black, flat, closed toe sandals. "And Miss Holson, please quiet down. As Mr. Dulrik said, we should not jump into baseless conclusions."

Miss Holson fumed and shut her mouth, holding the coward in her arms.

"Now then, Miss...?"

"Blackbell."

The woman paused. I caught a smell of surprise and... astonishment?

She cleared her throat "Well, then Miss Blackbell, please follow us to the Dean's office, along with your, companion."

Weird.

"Oh and Mr. Smith, kindly call for assistance and take the unconscious students to the infirmary to be treated and looked unto. Thank you." She told the guard. With that, she and the rest of the faculty started walking back.

I glanced at Tai'chi once more to find him, again, staring. I approached him warily, expecting him to be mad at me.

"Uh. Hi?"

I let out a long exhale when he replied, with a slight tug of his lips, his tusk jutting out. "Hi."

I fidgeted, trying to come up with words to explain myself.

"I uh, uhm. Are you mad?"

With his brow raised, "Why would I be?"

Yeah why would he be?

"I-I never told why I keep wearing my mask." I stuttered, "You see I—"

"You two! Start moving before I force you to." A teacher yelled at us from a distance.

"We'll talk later, Pearl. For now let's get this resolved first. I know for a fact that they won't expel you unless they ignore the ill intentions of the ones who attempted to harm you first. But better be safe than sorry, he was the dean's son afterall."

"Yeah... Thanks. We should.. go." I turned and started walking along his side.

******pov shift for a bit*******

Little did Pearl know, he was thinking about how...nice, yeah that's the word, definitely not sexy, you were when he witnessed your skills in combat. It awakened something in him that it took a lot of control not to get aroused there and then, which was the real reason why he stood there, unmoving from his place. Not once did he leave his eyes from you, almost jumping to help you when the guy with the baseball bat was closer than we would have liked. But oh no, he was not surprised, he was astonished and shookt , amazed when you pulled that last technique, sending the human plummeting to the ground almost soundlessly. And the way you stood right after, he knew he was smitten. That proud and intense aura you gave off was enough to make him bow down at your feet. He could feel it. He could smell it. That was his secret, he can scent people and catch any mood shift they make. Even though he told her that her eyes and brows gave it away, it was not entirely true as he could smell, literally, you and the changes on your scent.

Oh but little did he know you could to. Just not as observant as he is.

:>

*******************************

Wow— when I copy pasted the original thing from my notes to my drafts in Tumblr I was like "okay, so. I should read it AGAIN before I post it if I wanna avoid more unnoticed mistakes and keep editing it again and again even though I posted it already! " And I never though it would lead me to adding almost a half thousand words and a pov shift— which i found interesting and really nice! Should I do it more often? Like little inserts of what Tai'chi or another characters thoughts in second pov in between fics if necessary? It's just, nice, to put them in and write all out about what they were thinking outside of Pearl's pov! Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed reading❤

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

[athenawrites-stuff]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 4

Pairings: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Violence, Fighting, Use of curse words, and shouting.

Word count: 1.8k + words

*

Sensing another one behind me, I went low and struck his leg with mine, using his fall to punch his chin with my right fist this time, being careful to use a controlled amount of force or else the nerve I hit will result to permanent brain injury and can be fatal.

I got up, swift in my actions as I saw the guy with a raised baseball bat heading towards me from my left flank, and the other one from the right, fast.

On reflex, I leaned back, the bat that was aimed at me hitting his comrade on the shoulder instead. Guy’s lucky, actually. He would have suffered internal bleeding if it bashed the side of his skull.

Four down, two to go.

I took my stance once again to ready myself. This dude was a foot taller than me, with muscles packed with raw strength, but even so, pale in comparison to Tai'chi’s p—

Stop thinking that! Focus!

“Smash her head Dan!” The man behind him yelled.

This ‘Dan’ went straight to me with his bat raised with intent once more.

Breathe in.

Everything slowed down. I let my heart rate decelerate, my hearing sharpened, my sense of smell heightening even further.

I closed my eyes, letting the rest of my senses take over. Years of practice, days of pain from training, each motion engraved to my entire body with purpose. To defend not only myself, but also those who are looked down upon, discriminated and stepped on like dirt. My parents had always taught me to defend myself. Me. Don’t get me wrong, my parents are good people, albeit wary of the other races in our community. But the moment I left the roof of my home, I knew it was time for me to defend someone other than myself. I don’t give a damn about where we come from or what kind of blood flows within our veins. I will protect those who need protecting, and set anyone straight and down to the ground when they deserve it.

Breathe out.

At the last few moments, with my eyes still shut, I changed my form. I followed his aura and pictured out the shape that was drawing up to land a serious blow to my head. Dan is solid and heavy, but everyone has at least one weakness. And this guy is not spared from that.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

I opened my right fist, right foot forward and relaxed my arms, my legs serving as a firm foundation for my upper body. With the bat inches away from me, I smoothly dodged to the side, using my palm to push away the hand holding the weapon and punched a vital pressure point right under his bicep.

I bent my legs even lower and struck the center of his ribs with my thumb, closing my hands as I jabbed his sciatic nerve on each side at the same time, both located in the middle line of the thigh between the groin and the knee. A solid blow to those nerve points will cause intense pain and shock to the person, along with a temporary immobility of the feet.

a/n: Self defense 101! Remember that dear readers♥

With the support of my left leg, I went behind the man, standing straight and proud. Calm, I opened my eyes when I heard his fall, staring right into the fearful ones of the moron that started all of this.

“Y-You- You killed them!”

Is he that dumb?

“Correction, I didn’t. I knocked them unconscious is all. And the fellow that attacked me first? Well, he passed out from the pain of his now funny-looking arm.” I stated flatly as I trudged to where he was standing.

“S-Stay away from me! Monster! Freak!” He stumbled, his ass on the ground and away from me until he felt a tree trunk on his back.

I scoffed and withdrew my knuckle dusters back under my baggy sleeve.

“You wanna know who the real monster is?” I stopped and held him in place with my scrutinizing gaze. He was trembling like a wimp at this point.

“It’s you.

"You and your disgusting racist friends.

"You, along with all the people who view and treats anyone other than humankind as lowlifes and pests that are meant to be squished and eradicated from the society.

"No, it’s you, and the ones who have the same mentality as you, who are monsters under the guise of a human.”

I paused, not even blinking as I bore holes into his skull.

“I am human, down to every inch of my being. But unlike you, I respect and treat everyone, regardless of kind or gender, and to those who deserve it, fair and right.”

Before I could continue, I scented new people coming into the scene. It was the teaching staff, along with the uni’s guard.

Shocked of what they have seen, they turned towards me, angry, surprised, confused expressions on different faces.

“What have you done?!” A female, human instructor, looking to be around her late 20s shouted.

“Ma'am, if you would just let me explain—”

“You are hereby expelled from this institution, young lady!”

All the color of my skin left me as I heard the words I have dreaded even before I set foot in the campus grounds.

“Now let’s not go straight to conclusions. We need to deal with this professionally AND properly Miss Holson. You are also not in authority to suspend this student.” A heavily bearded dwarven professor, clad in a brown suit and Oxfords, told her off firmly.

“What are you saying Mr. Dulrik? Look at her! Look at this! She murdered students and oh my God, is that the dean’s son?!”

For the love of— she blind? Why does everybody think I killed someone???

“Ma'am they are—” I was about to tell her but got cut off, again!

“Helpmehelpmehelpme!” He scrambled away from me and ran to the group of teachers and hugged the young instructor. “I don’t know what came over her! She just attacked us out of nowhere!”

The audacity of this fucking bitch!

“Pardon me? Attacked you? YOU were the one who followed me out here! You and your” —I gestured to the bodies laying flat on the ground— “ buddies over there!”

“She is lying! The orc was with her and and and—”

It dawned on me that I almost forgot about Tai'chi. My eyes widened, and I frantically scanned the area around for him. And there he was, standing by the oak tree, right where I told him not to move.

He seemed…irritated?

Oh no. At me?

“I have not moved an inch from where I am standing ever since I planted my feet here.” He said with his deep baritone voice, turning to confront the staff. “What she’s speaking is the truth. They were the ones who followed her here and attacked her, first.”

“And how can we be sure you are telling the truth, orc?” Miss Holson replied spitefully.

Even the teacher, huh? Her odor smells like vomit. I mean, I knew she was…foul, but I thought it was because of the situation. Guess not.

Tai'chi did not respond. Instead, he moved to look at me in the eyes. His gaze, searching, but not in an awful way. Was he asking me what I’ll do?

“How about we discuss this in the office, shall we?” An elderly professor spoke. She was wearing the university’s formal teaching uniform together with black, flat, closed toe sandals. “And Miss Holson, please quiet down. As Mr. Dulrik said, we should not jump into baseless conclusions.”

Miss Holson fumed and shut her mouth, holding the coward in her arms.

“Now then, Miss…?”

“Blackbell.”

The woman paused. I caught a smell of surprise and… astonishment?

She cleared her throat “Well, then Miss Blackbell, please follow us to the Dean’s office, along with your, companion.”

Weird.

“Oh and Mr. Smith, kindly call for assistance and take the unconscious students to the infirmary to be treated and looked unto. Thank you.” She told the guard. With that, she and the rest of the faculty started walking back.

I glanced at Tai'chi once more to find him, again, staring. I approached him warily, expecting him to be mad at me.

“Uh. Hi?”

I let out a long exhale when he replied, with a slight tug of his lips, his tusk jutting out. “Hi.”

I fidgeted, trying to come up with words to explain myself.

“I uh, uhm. Are you mad?”

With his brow raised, “Why would I be?”

Yeah why would he be?

“I-I never told why I keep wearing my mask.” I stuttered, “You see I—”

“You two! Start moving before I force you to.” A teacher yelled at us from a distance.

“We’ll talk later, Pearl. For now let’s get this resolved first. I know for a fact that they won’t expel you unless they ignore the ill intentions of the ones who attempted to harm you first. But better be safe than sorry, he was the dean’s son afterall.”

“Yeah… Thanks. We should.. go.” I turned and started walking along his side.

******pov shift for a bit*******

Little did Pearl know, he was thinking about how…nice, yeah that’s the word, definitely not sexy, you were when he witnessed your skills in combat. It awakened something in him that it took a lot of control not to get aroused there and then, which was the real reason why he stood there, unmoving from his place. Not once did he leave his eyes from you, almost jumping to help you when the guy with the baseball bat was closer than we would have liked. But oh no, he was not surprised, he was astonished and shookt , amazed when you pulled that last technique, sending the human plummeting to the ground almost soundlessly. And the way you stood right after, he knew he was smitten. That proud and intense aura you gave off was enough to make him bow down at your feet. He could feel it. He could smell it. That was his secret, he can scent people and catch any mood shift they make. Even though he told her that her eyes and brows gave it away, it was not entirely true as he could smell, literally, you and the changes on your scent.

Oh but little did he know you could to. Just not as observant as he is.

*************************************

Thank you for reading<3

I've already written Chapters 1-6 so stay tuned and check them out in my pinned post. Stay safe and healthy!

[sparrow-flies-south]

Cursebreaking For Dummies

Fandom: Sanders Sides Rating: Teen Pairings: Virgil and Remus (either platonic or pre-romantic) Summary: Janus and Virgil had a good thing going, running the only magick shop in town. Even if they don't believe in magic themselves, there are plenty of people who do.Unfortunately, they might have done to good a job selling it, because now there's a guy asking for Virgil's help breaking a curse.  Notes: Written for the prompt “15: So you need to break a curse” sent by @theeternalspace, thanks so much!

Read on AO3 - My Masterlist

The Yellow Serpent was, according to the local paper, ‘the best occult shop around’. Janus had told Virgil this with the same smile he had worn when he had explained that he’d managed to get the answers for Mrs Bakers test – it was the look of a con carried out well.

No one was surprised when Janus left town as soon as high school was over. Everyone knew that Janus was destined for something more – though what that something was depended on who you asked. What was surprising was that Janus had come back, rented out the shop space left empty since the sewing shop closed, and started selling incense and magic crystals.

The way Janus had explained it to Virgil (and probably only to Virgil) was that there were two kind of people who ran magick shops (the k was important, apparently). The first kind was the true believers, the kind who probably had an altar in the back and had tested all the spells they talked about. The second were people who saw how much people were willing to pay for this stuff, and decided to take advantage of it. Janus was one of the latter.

Virgil and Janus were the only two full time employees, though with Janus managing the business side of things, Virgil was usually the one in charge of the shop itself. They had one part time employee, a high schooler named Elliot who seemed to have imprinted on Virgil since the moment they saw him.

It was the middle of the week, which meant it was quiet. Janus would be in soon, which at the very least would give Virgil someone to talk to. So far, there had only been two customers, so Virgil had started making up the herb bundles out of sheer boredom.

He’d just finished the last of the True Love Bundles (put it under your pillow while you sleep, or use as part of a spell) when the bell over the door jangled.

Virgil left the backroom and went into the shop itself, where the new customer had already reached the counter. He was dressed in a green crop top, a large backpack slung over his shoulders. There was a streak of white in his hair and he had a handlebar moustache. He didn’t look like the kind of person you’d expect to find in a shop like this, which made him a perfectly average customer.

“Quick,” the man said, “I need to break a curse.”

If Janus were here, he would ask the man what kind of curse it was, and direct him to a certain kind of incense which would ward away bad energy or something. Unfortunately, it was only Virgil, and Virgil was terrible at thinking on his feet.

“Is that a pickup line?” Virgil asked. The man just looked confused, and Virgil’s mouth kept talking without his brain’s permission. “You know, like true loves kiss to break a spell?”

Damn it, Virgil, stop talking.

The man suddenly looked interested. He leaned over the counter. “Do you want it to be?”

Virgil was sure his face was probably the colour of a tomato. Fortunately he was saved from either answering or being swallowed up by the earth by something barking in the man’s backpack.

“We don’t allow dogs,” Virgil said, taking the distraction and clinging on for dear life.

“Oh, it’s not a dog.” The man fished a creature out of his backpack and set it down on the counter. “It’s my brother.”

Virgil looked at the animal in front of him. The animal looked back. “Your brother… is a Pomeranian.”

The dog barked.

“Well, he is now,” the man said.

“Let me guess,” Virgil drawled, “A witch turned him into a dog.”

“Yes!” – The dog barked – “Well, a Dragon Witch, but close enough!”

Virgil was pretty sure not even Janus would be able to go along with this one. Of course, this would never happen to Janus, because Janus was a bastard who never had to deal with karma for his actions. No, instead the universe had decided to punish Virgil for the scam they were running.

“Okay,” Virgil said with a sigh. “You need to leave.”

The man had the audacity to look surprised. “What for?”

“How about everything?”

The dog growled, and Virgil took a step back. Sure, the thing was tiny, but Virgil wasn’t taking any chances. It still had teeth, didn’t it?

“You’re pretending your dog’s a person,” Virgil pointed out when the man still looked blank.

“He is!” the man protested, at the same time as the dog barked.

“Look,” Virgil snapped. “I only work here because my friend asked me to. None of this stuff is real! It’s all mass produced in some factory somewhere. So why don’t you find another audience for your hilarious joke and stop wasting my time.”

The man stared at him. If Janus had seen that, he’d probably start yelling. Not because Virgil shouted at a customer – Janus would have his back on that one – but because Virgil had said that it wasn’t real. Janus had a thing about never stopping the illusion.

Suddenly, the man tilted his head back and burst into loud, cackling laughter. The dog shot the man an irritated look, or at least, a look that would have been irritated, if it was capable of that. Which it wasn’t, because it was a dog.  It was probably just wondering when it would get to continue its walk.

“I don’t believe this,” the man said. “You sent me to a fake shop.”

The dog barked once, and Virgil must be losing it because he could swear the dog looked indignant. The man waved his hand.

“Sure, sure, anyone could have made that mistake. Hey, while we’re at it, why not try homeopathy?”

“We don’t sell homeopathic treatments,” Virgil said automatically.

Conning money out of gullible fools was one thing, Janus had said. Conning money out of desperate sick people was better left to televangelists and the health care system.

Speaking drew the man’s attention back to him, which was probably a mistake. He grinned, and lean over the counter, giving Virgil a good view of the purple eyeshadow he was wearing.

“So, know anywhere that sells real magic shit?”

There was probably a lot of ways Virgil could answer that. Unfortunately, the one his mouth chose was, “What the fuck is real magic?”

“I’m glad you asked! What’s your favourite animal?”

Virgil had no idea if he was witnessing a strange attempt at flirting, a far too elaborate prank, or a breakdown.

“You’re mad,” he told the man.

“Please,” the man said with a wave of his hand. “My father is mad. Call me Remus.”

Virgil snorted, and then tried to hide it with a cough. The man looked delighted. The dog very much did not. It tried to tug on Remus’ arm, which, since Remus wasn’t wearing sleeves, mostly involved biting Remus.

“So,” Remus said, apparently unaware that he was being mauled. “Favourite animal?”

Fuck it. What was the worst that could happen?

“Spiders, I guess.”

Remus looked Virgil up and down then nodded. “Goes with the aesthetic. Alright, Spiderboy.”

He cupped his hands together on the table, palms up. Virgil was about to ask what he was doing, when the air above his hands seemed to flicker, and a spider appeared.

Appeared was the only word for it. One moment there was no spider, and then the next there was one. Like when a video lagged, so the enemies just seemed to pop up.

The spider leaped out of Remus’ hands and towards the dog, who yelped and leapt backwards, falling off the counter. Remus laughed. Virgil should probably leap back too, but he was rooted in place.

“What the hell?” he cried.

“Tadaa!” Remus said. “Magic.”

Virgil shook his head, staring at the spider, which now stood in the middle of the counter. He reached one hand out, then immediately thought better of it and pulled the hand back again.

“Is it real?”

“Eh,” Remus shrugged, “Define real. You can touch it, though. Put your hand out.”

Virgil hesitated, because just because he liked spiders didn’t mean he instantly trusted them, especially when they appeared out of nowhere and were bigger than any spider had the right to be. Still, he figured that Remus probably wasn’t trying to kill him, so he placed his hand palm up on the surface.

The spider scuttled over. It stopped next to his hand for a moment, and when Virgil didn’t pull his hand away, it slowly stepped on.

“It’s solid,” Virgil said.

“Maybe,” Remus said. “Or maybe you just think it’s solid. Am I affecting the world or everyone in it?”

It was way too early for philosophical discussions, so Virgil just watched the spider crawl up his arm. It had reached his elbow when what was happening fully set it. Virgil jerked back with a cry.

“What is it?” Remus asked. The spider disappeared into nothing.

“This is real,” Virgil said. “Magic is real.”

“Uh, yeah,” Remus said. “Hey, are you okay?”

Virgil barely heard him, just like he barely heard the jingle of the door open and close. The world was spinning around him, and suddenly something seemed to crush his chest.

“I think I’m going to faint,” Virgil muttered.

The dog barked, sounding alarmed. Distantly he was aware of someone saying his name, someone taking his arm and leading him away. When the arm let go, Virgil sank down to the floor. Something nudged his leg, and he jerked back, in case it was another spider, but it was just the dog. Someone was counting, up to four, then seven, then eight. Breathing patterns.

Virgil matched the counting, and slowly felt himself come back to himself. He was sat in the back room, with Janus crouched in front of him, frowning. The dog sat by Virgil’s legs. Virgil had put his hand on the dog’s fur at some point. The dog looked slightly confused, but seemed okay with it.

“When did you get here?” Virgil asked.

“At the start of your panic attack,” Janus said. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Virgil answered.

“It’s been a while since you had one,” Janus said hesitantly.

Virgil shrugged. It was true. High School had been the worst. Virgil had lost track of times Janus would pull him out of classrooms and into some quiet part of the school no one else knew about. No matter how often the teachers tried to stop Janus from going with him, Janus would refuse to leave his side until Virgil was better.

“Guess it was just a bad day,” Virgil muttered, because there was no way he was telling Janus what had just happened.

“Did the customer-?” Janus began, but was cut off by the dog barking.

“He didn’t do anything,” Virgil lied.

Janus’ frown deepened, because he could always tell when Virgil was lying. Virgil sighed.

“He wasn’t being a dick or anything,” Virgil said, which was true. “It just kind of… happened.”

“Alright,” Janus said at last. “Do you want me to deal with him?”

“No, I should do it. Plus, I kind of kidnapped his br-dog.”

If Janus noticed the connection, he didn’t say anything, just nodded and helped Virgil to his feet. Virgil went back to the counter, where Remus was still standing, drumming his fingers on the top.

“You alright, emo?” Remus asked. “Roman didn’t bite you, did he?”

The dog – Roman, the dog was Roman and was a person looked indignant at the suggestion.

“I’m fine,” Virgil said. He shook his head. “Not, scratch that. Magic is real.”

“I… don’t see why that would be a bad thing?”

Virgil glanced over his shoulder, but Janus wasn’t around. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

“You could come with us,” Remus suggested.

“What?”

“Well, we do still have to break the curse. You could help!”

Virgil and Roman looked at Remus with matching incredulity.

“I don’t know anything about magic,” Virgil said.

“It’ll be a learning experience!”

Virgil shook his head. “You only just met me.”

“So? You’re cute, and you seem fun. And I know I’m fun.”

He should say no. Magic or no magic, he didn’t know Roman and Remus, how did he know they weren’t serial killers or something? Magical serial killers. And even if they weren’t, breaking a curse sounded suspiciously like an adventure, and apparently getting cursed by a dragon witch was a normal part of their lives.

Virgil really, really, didn’t want to know what a dragon witch was.

All he had to do was say no, and Remus and Roman would leave, and Virgil would go back to his life and probably never see them again. He’d keep selling incense and crystal balls, and pretend he didn’t believe in any of it. He’d finish work, then go back to his shitty apartment, then go to work again.

Funny, he’d never thought of his life as boring before.

“Janus,” Virgil called. “I’m taking a break.”

Remus’ face split into a grin. Roman rolled his eyes, which was quite impressive, for a dog.

“Okay,” Virgil said, once they were all outside. “How do you break a curse?”

“I have no idea!” Remus said. “Why do you think I came here?”

“Great. So none of us have any idea what we’re doing.”

“Hey! You’re getting the hang of this.”

Well, even if he died, at least it wouldn’t be boring.

[the-uninformed-zennial]

Series: Dick’s Apartment

Chapter 1: Jason

Warnings: Mild swearing (because, you know, it’s Jason Todd)

Preface/introduction:

The first family member to stay the night at Dick’s apartment was Jason Todd, the new Robin. The new Dick. Or so the former protege had felt upon discovering that Batman’s sidekick was still active on the streets of Gotham and Bruce Wayne had gained a new ward. He didn’t speak to Bruce for about six months after that, and even after they finally had a conversation about what happened, it took him a while to be able to show his face around the manor. But once he got over himself, he found that Jason was actually a pretty cool kid. So, when Bruce found himself called off world for some league business while Alfred was sick, Dick didn’t entirely mind watching the little punk for the weekend...

Now the actual story...

Bruce dropped him off on the sidewalk in the late afternoon, barely giving the kid enough time to grab his backpack and cell phone before speeding off towards the nearest Zeta tube. Typical. Why bother waiting for your babysitter when the world was at stake? Whatever. Jason could take care of himself just fine, better than fine. I mean, he was fucking Robin. He took care of Batman when the situation called for it. Screw Bruce for even thinking he needed to be watched. Screw Dick for agreeing. He unzipped his backpack just enough to reach inside and touch the hem of his Robin suit. He was going on patrol, and he would just love to see Nightwing try and stop him. He slung his worn red backpack onto his shoulder and turned his phone’s location off, but just as he was about to bolt, he felt a warm hand grab his shoulder.

“Hey man, I was just on my way out.” Dick’s knowing smile just made Jason want to punch him in the face, “Looks like you were too. Wanna grab some pizza before you get both of us in trouble?”

“Fuck you man.” Jason spat.

Dick tightened his grip on Jason’s shoulder and pulled him into the doorway of the apartment building, away from the street and prying ears.

“Look, I get the whole tough guy act and needing to prove yourself to Bruce thing, okay? Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. But if you take to the streets before I’ve even had the chance to put some food in you I have a feeling Batman’s no-kill rule will be temporarily suspended. So, we can either do this the easy way, or we can break out in a brawl in the middle of the street, which do you prefer?”

As much as Jason would love to see if he could beat Dick in combat, he did have a point. Bruce would be pissed if Jason ran off before even giving Dick a chance, and pizza before patrol didn’t sound like the worst thing he could think of.

“Fine.”

“Great,” Dick’s smile returned to his face almost as quickly as it had disappeared, “just let me get my coat and we'll be on our way.”

Jason slumped up against the side of the building and whipped out his phone in response. By the time Dick came back downstairs he had already beat a new level in the stupid numbers game Bruce made him download to “build his deductive reasoning skills” or whatever. Dick was such a priss, sauntering down the staircase in a leather jacket that looked like it had just come off the manufacturers belt, while still having the audacity to refute Jason’s whispered taunt of “spoiled brat” with a, “then what does that make you?” in reply.

The pair decided to use a shortcut Dick had recently discovered that supposedly made the trip take half as long as usual. It cut through a couple of alleys, but what was the harm, I mean, they were Nightwing and Robin, afterall. Just as the thought crossed Jason's mind, he heard the click of a gun hammer pulled back.

“Stop.” came the growl from a voice behind them.

Dick quickly gave Jason a look that said to just play along. They reluctantly stopped.

“Turn around.” Man this guy was cocky. “Empty your pockets.” Jason almost felt bad for him.

But just as he was about to show this punk who was boss, Dick grabbed his arm, and he noticed that he had all his valuables laying out in front of him. Was he serious? Dick could take this guy down in his sleep, and yet he was just gonna roll over and give him whatever he wanted. No way. Then he caught a look at the guy. He wasn’t so much of a guy as a kid, a kid who didn’t look much older than Jason was when Batman found him trying to lift the tires off the batmobile. Not much older than Jason was when… no, he wouldn’t go there. Suffice it to say, life on the streets was hard enough. This kid didn’t need to be ruffed up by two literal superheroes, he needed a sandwich. Maybe two. So, reluctantly, Jason unbuckled his watch and took his phone out of his back pocket. There really wasn’t anything else of value he had brought with him.

The kid peered around the barrel of his gun, inspecting the pile, then motioned at Jason, “Backpack too.”

Shit. The backpack, the backpack with his Robin suit inside. Which, if found, would totally ruin the whole secret identity thing. Did Dick know? He glanced up at him, and yeah, he knew. Fuck, mental note, find a better way to sneak the Robin suit in and out of the cave. Jason subconsciously gripped the backpack more tensely.

“Uh,” Dick spoke up, thank god, “I don’t think you actually want that. See, my brother here was going to spend the night at my house so it’s just filled with an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush. Nothing valuable there.”

Jason could have facepalmed, right then and there. Dick obviously knew nothing about what was and was not valuable to a kid on the streets, because honestly, two years ago Jason would’ve killed to find a backpack filled with an extra pair of clothes and a toothbrush. Those things were hard to come by. And also, did he seriously just call him his brother?

Sure enough the kid motioned with his free hand, “Hand it over.”

Jason tried to hide the panic that was slowly spreading across his face, but Dick was too perceptive and he knew it. Fuck him. He was not handing the bag over, no matter what the little punk threatened. Somehow, Dick seemed to know that because before Jason could make a move, Dick had already done some crazy ass acrobatic flip that simultaneously knocked the kid out and disarmed him.

“How the hell--?” The words just kinda slipped out before Jason even realized what he was saying, “...Bruce is seriously holding out on me.”

Dick just smiled while he picked the gun up off the ground and put a twenty in the kid’s half opened hand.

As they began to pick up their valuables, he leaned over and whispered, “You know I was in the circus right?”

“Yeah?”

“And I was Robin for about a decade”

“Where are you going with this?”

The smile somehow glinted in his eyes, “Batman didn’t teach me that one. I created it myself.”

It took all Jason’s willpower to not drop his mouth wide open. How was that even possible? I mean, the mechanics of the move, how Dick had to launch his body upward just the right amount so that he could come down on the attacker’s hands and face with just enough force to cause them to release the weapon before firing, it was insane! Jason had to learn it. Just as he opened his mouth to ask, Dick raised his hand in silence.

“After pizza.”

So that’s what they did. They must’ve spent a good three hours at the local park just trying to get Jason to launch himself high enough in the air. As much as he hated to admit it, Dick was a lot more agile and Jason was quickly tiring out. After about the 500th failure, Jason lost it. He didn’t know what came over him, but the next thing he knew he was picking up the pieces of his broken phone off the sidewalk. Shit. Shit, Bruce was gonna be so pissed.

“Hey man,” Dick started.

God his cheerful attitude was starting to get really fucking old. Dick Grayson. The first Robin. The prodigal son. The dude who started beating up bad guys before he had even shaved for the first time. Dick Grayson who could fling himself in the air all day long and barely break a sweat. Dick Grayson, the guy he was just subbing in for.

Before Jason even realized what was happening, he felt his curled fist impact the side of Dick face. Dick stepped back a few paces, and instinctively hunched into his fighting stance while inspecting his face for blood. Jason was proud to say there were a few drops, thanks to a ring on his middle finger.

“What the fuck?” He asked, clearly confused.

“Just stay the hell away from me, okay?” Jason said quite a bit louder than he had intended, “I don’t need your help. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“I never said that you weren’t.” Dick dropped his stance. “Look, maybe we should take a break.”

A break. Yeah, right. Jason Todd, the kid who couldn’t even make it through an afternoon of training without having a complete meltdown. No way was Bruce not going to hear about this. With the way things were going, he’d probably be taken off patrol for at least a week. No. He wouldn’t let that happen. All he had to do was convince Dick that he was fine, he was better than fine, he was the real Robin.

Jason took another swing, and this time, Dick was expecting it. He grabbed Jason’s outstretched arm and twisted it behind his back. But before he could get the hold fully secured, Jason took his free arm and elbowed him right in the stomach, the diaphragm, if Dick’s sudden fit of coughing was any indication. This gave Jason enough time to yank his hand free of Dick’s grasp and try to land another blow. He decided to go for a kick to the right knee, a weak spot of Batman’s former protege he had learned about while reviewing old video tapes for training. But Dick saw it coming. Before Jason even had time to think, Dick had already grabbed his outstretched leg and knocked him off balance, causing him to fall into the soft dirt around them. Jason kicked and flailed, trying to get his leg free, but it didn’t work, and soon Dick was on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

Jason knew if he tried he could get free eventually, but after a while he just stopped. What was the point anyway? Surely Dick was going to call Batman as soon as he was back on world and tell him everything. He’d recommend Jason give back the Robin suit and retire from the vigilante business because he couldn’t handle the stress of learning a new trick. Then he’d be back on the streets, because what use would Bruce Wayne have for him if he couldn’t fight crime? At least this time he’d know how to defend himself.

Jason didn’t even realize he had started to cry until he was being held in Dick’s arms. It was strange and incredibly uncomfortable to be held by someone that was nearly his own size, but Dick was soft and warm and would not let go. So Jason just sat there frozen, tears silently running down his face as he tried desperately to hide the fact that he was terrified of what was going to happen to him now.

The two boys stayed there like that for a few minutes, until Jason had softened enough to meld into Dick’s arms a little, and the latest wave of tears had come and gone. When Dick finally did let go, Jason scrambled back up onto his feet, and wiped away any trace that he had cried in the first place. Then turned a stony gaze at Dick.

“Don’t tell Bruce.” He glared.

“Tell him what?” Dick asked innocently.

There he was, being a prick again. Jason glanced around the park that was now well covered in darkness looking for a space to stare at that wasn’t Dick. Anywhere but Dick.

“That I failed.”

“Excuse me?” Dick’s tone was sarcastic and somewhat offended. “Did you just say you failed?”

Jason nodded ever so slightly.

“Okay, no.” He sighed in a manner eerily similar to Bruce. “Jace, it takes time to master a move like this, like an insane amount of time, like years. You had three hours in a playground and you’ve already got the basic motor functions of the move down. I don’t know about you, but I call that impressive.”

Jason looked cautiously into Dick’s eyes, could he really mean what he was saying? “But then why did you say I should take a break?”

“Because I could see you were getting to the end of your rope. I mean, you threw your phone on the ground and punched me in the face. If that’s not a clear indication someone needs a break, then I don’t know what is.” He smiled reassuringly.

“So you aren’t going to tell Bruce what happened?”

“I mean, I don’t really think there’s anything he needs to know about, do you?”

Jason allowed the phantom of a smile to creep up on his face, “Not unless you can’t handle being punched in the face by your little brother.”

“Brother, huh?”

“Your words, not mine.”

Dick laughed, “Okay then, brother, what do you say we go get a movie and eat some popcorn? I’ve had enough training tonight.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, “Fine. But only if it’s horror.”

Dick just smiled and put his arm around his little brother’s shoulder as they walked out of the park and back to the apartment.

The boys stayed up well into the night, mostly mocking the movie they chose for it’s subpar acting and special effects quality. It was one of those “classic” horror movies that everyone has to see at least once in their lives, so of course it sucked. Still, Jason could honestly say it was the most fun he’d had in years. Dick was definitely an asshole, but despite his better judgement, he couldn’t help thinking that maybe, just maybe, Dick wasn’t as big a dick as he thought.

[sanktnikolais]

Maybe The Night

A/N: tbh i should really stop writing college au but KLJHSDFKASDF this au is my poison so have this 7.6k mess i’m so sorry for being distracted as always 

for @wafflesandkruge‘s college au (tiff where’s my injured zoya)

Word count: 7616

AO3

Zoya winced at the sound of the infuriating blond’s excited voice on the phone.

          “Three days alone with you, Nazyalensky? Is this a blessing in disguise?” Nikolai, the biggest idiot she’s known for years, practically cheered. How could he have such endless energy even at night? 

          "I'd say it's a curse, Lantsov. I'd have to endure a week's worth of you babbling," Zoya muttered as she zipped her suitcase close. "I still haven't forgiven you for taking the midnight flight."

          "But it's the last one available if we want to make the plant visit in the morning," he reasoned out. "Well, aside from the fact that Professor Juris might set our asses on fire if we don't make it there in time." 

          Zoya laughed darkly. "I'm his favorite student," she said with a bit of pride. "So basically the only ass in danger here is yours."

          "Harsh."

          "Honest." And before Nikolai could even say something that would prolong their conversation again, she quickly added, "Where are you, anyway?" 

          "Look outside."

          Zoya raised a brow, setting the phone beside the suitcase on the bed. She stomped to her apartment window and looked out. 

          The curb below was empty. 

          She frowned and, as if Lantsov could see her, he let out a loud laugh. 

          "Wait, my bad. I said that too early. The cab is just rounding the corner to your street."

          Zoya was in the mood to murder a certain blond tonight. "Why did the saints put me in this situation of being your research partner?"

          Nikolai chuckled. "Maybe because we're both one of the top tier students in our program?" 

          "Ah, yes. Thinking highly of ourselves again, yeah?" 

          "But you ask for a reason, so I gave it," he said, and then there was a shuffle and muffled voices. After a moment, he said, "Alright, I'm outside of your complex. For real this time." 

          Zoya narrowed her eyes and looked down the window again. True enough to what Nikolai said, their cab was parked in front of her building. She could already see his blond hair standing out under the light as he got out from the car. 

          "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," she said. "I'll see you in a few."

          With that, Zoya ended the call and grabbed her suitcase, double-checking if she had forgotten anything else before leaving her place. 

          They had been tasked together to visit a certain geothermal power plant on the other side of the country that could help them in their plant design in their last year of their program as per Professor Juris’ words. Visits were usually conducted by incoming fourth year students during the summer term, but the both of them were only in the beginning of their third year. So it was definitely in their advantage.

          What Zoya hadn’t anticipated was being paired with the biggest idiot on the planet. She had been talking with their professor quietly in the faculty room and then Nikolai came in with his signature grin that became even wider when Juris told him that they were paired up for the trip.

          Perhaps it’d be a blessing in disguise because Zoya would probably let him do all the talking and questioning. 

          Nikolai was already meeting her halfway down the steps of her building and getting her suitcase when she stepped out. She frowned as it was snatched from her hand and he put it inside the trunk.

          “Are you being a real gentleman or are you going to plead for the window seat again?” Zoya eyed him suspiciously as he opened the car door for her as well. She wasn’t the type to ignore kind actions, but she’s also not the type to fall for it easily. “Because it’s not going to happen.”

          His smile faded. “I am deeply hurt, Nazyalensky,” Nikolai said a bit too dramatically, putting a hand to his chest for emphasis. Then with a pout, he said, “Please?”

          Zoya only snickered and got in. “Probably next time,” she said.

 ***

The flight was an agony to get through. They were expected to arrive at eight in the morning, and it meant having to endure Nikolai having to babble for at least another six hours. By the fourth hour, Zoya was starting to feel more irritated as the lack of sleep from yesterday came back to hit her. She had never been comfortable to fall asleep during flights and the book she had been reading had hit a boring point, so she just slammed it close with a huff.

          “Bad mood, eh?” Nikolai asked, looking at her above the thin frames of his glasses. He showed no signs of exhaustion even though it was almost five in the morning. She figured she’d ask his secret for staying lively the whole day. “Tired of reading? You try to get a bit of sleep. We still have a few hours.”

          Zoya snorted. “I would already be if I could,” she mumbled, leaning back in her seat more comfortably. “I can feel sleep around the corner but it won't come.” She made a move to grab the glass of wine on the small table in front of him, but his hand was faster and he held it out of her reach.

          Nikolai wiggled a finger. “Na-uh, you’re not yet twenty-one, truffle.”

          “Oh, really now?” she said, her eyebrows furrowing. “Who could tell?” 

          “No one. But I’d rather not let you succumb to the temptation of underage drinking.”

          “You’re being dramatic.”

          “A good one, that is.” Nikolai downed the drink in one gulp and set the glass back on the table. He gave her a wink. “Now the temptation is gone.”

          Zoya only rolled her eyes and looked away. Her head was already throbbing as she put a hand up to her temple and began massaging it. There were still a few hours of agony to go. 

          It was then that Nikolai offered an earbud to her, a small smile on his lips. “Music helps me sleep sometimes. It might help you too,” he said. When she didn’t take it right away, he added, “Don’t worry, I have a great music taste.”

          “If this doesn’t have any The Fray, I’m suing,” Zoya said, making Nikolai laugh as he showed her the screen on his phone. She huffed in approval and put the bud in her ear. “Alright, I’ll bite.”

          Nikolai grinned. “That’s the spirit,” he said. “Just try to get a bit of shut-eye. If it still doesn’t work, I’ll tell you my whole life story so you won’t be bored.”

          Zoya wrinkled her nose at the thought. “I’ll definitely force myself to sleep because that sounds horrifying.”

          “Harsh.”

          “Honest.”

          “Now sleep, I’m ignoring you from now on.” Nikolai pushed his glasses up his nose and went back to reading.

          “Idiot,” Zoya mumbled, but closed her eyes anyway. It took only a minute for heaviness to finally wash over her. Perhaps the infuriating blond did have an effective way for inviting sleep over.

          She let sleep take her with Rainy Zurich echoing in her ears.

***

Zoya woke to a nudge on her shoulder and a gentle voice saying, “Rise and shine. We’re here.”

          She opened her eyes groggily, and she looked up to meet Nikolai’s hazel ones that were twinkling with amusement. “What—” she stopped abruptly when she realized that she was clutching on his arm and she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. And his jacket was draped around her. She quickly let go of him, feeling her face heat up as she handed him back the garment. “You should’ve woken me much earlier.”

          Nikolai had the audacity to chuckle. “But you looked comfortable enough. It’d be a crime to disturb you,” he said.

          The next half hour was a blur through her still-hazy mind, and then they were out of the airport. Nikolai had bought them coffee from a nearby vending machine as they waited outside for their ride to the hotel they were going to stay in.

          “Took me ten minutes to find one that was willing to go through the shit traffic,” Nikolai said over the rim of his small cup. The steam from the coffee clouded the lenses of his glasses with moisture, and he immediately reared back with a wince. Zoya stifled a laugh. “It should be here any minute now.”

          Zoya took a sip from her own cup, feeling the warmth of the drink soothe her morning mood. It was already quarter to nine, but she felt like it was way earlier than that. “What time was the visit again?”

          “Around ten, I think? Hold on, let me check.” Nikolai pulled out his phone and began scrolling. “We have at least an hour to unpack our things and—oh, what the hell.”

          “What?”

          “They moved it tomorrow,” he said with a wince, showing the email to Zoya. 

          She closed her eyes as her head pounded. “Saints,” she muttered. Not having the two-day visit schedule happening today meant having to spend the whole day with the infuriating blond. Merely thinking of that made her question everything she had done to get this. “That’s a pain.”

          Nikolai sighed, putting the phone back to his pocket. “At least we have the whole day free,” he said. And then, as if he remembered something important, he cursed under his breath. “With free, I really meant review. I keep on forgetting about the midterm in Heat and Mass Transfer on Monday.”

          “Wait, that’s on Monday?”

          “Unfortunately.”

          Zoya made a face. “What the fuck,” she muttered. If things could get any worse, she hoped that it’d end after the next one. Erase that—she hoped there’s no next. “Let’s start the problem set. Come over to my room in the evening. ”

          “Such a bold declaration, Nazyalensky.” Nikolai wiggled an eyebrow, and then winked at her.

          Zoya frowned, and it took her a moment to realize how her previous statement sounded. She kicked his leg. “Idiot.”

          Nikolai laughed as he feigned being hurt from the kick. Thankfully, their ride finally arrived and it saved the infuriating blond from being beaten up further. He automatically got his suitcase, and also went to get Zoya’s in his other hand before walking over to the car’s trunk. 

          “Acting the gentleman again, eh?” she said as she opened the car door and got in the backseat. 

          He slipped in a moment later, telling the driver the name of the hotel they’re going to. He turned to her after. “It’s for having to endure me for the rest of the drive to the hotel. Traffic sucks.”

          “Who says I have to endure you when I can sleep instead?” Zoya scooted a bit further, making sure to put a good distance between them. She wasn’t falling asleep clutching him again. “I can sleep easier this time.”

          “Whatever you say.”

***

Nikolai checked his watch for the nth time since they left the airport. It’s almost an hour ago, but they were still on the road. Also not to mention that his right shoulder had gotten numb from the weight of Zoya’s head leaning on him. 

          So much for ‘sleeping much easier’; he was being made as a body pillow. Not that he was complaining.

          After several more minutes, the car finally pulled over the front of their hotel. Nikolai turned his head slightly to the side and was immediately met with the sight of ebony hair. She surprisingly smelled of wildflowers. 

          He shook his thoughts away as he nudged her gently with his other arm. "Rise and shine, Zo," he said cheerily.

          Zoya jolted awake, and, when she realized that she had fallen asleep on his shoulder again, she practically jumped back as if she had been burned. The redness on her cheeks didn't escape his eyes. 

          Nikolai stifled a laugh as he looked her over. A stray hair had stuck on her cheek, and he fought the urge to brush it away. "You did fall asleep easier this time," he said, and then he tapped at his cheek. 

          She seemed to understand the gesture and she tucked her hair back to her ear. "That didn't happen," she said, but it sounded more to herself than to him. 

          "Ah, but it already happened twice, Zoya dear," Nikolai said with a grin. "It'd be much harder to forget it."

          Zoya rolled her eyes and kicked his shin again, then got out of the cab. Nikolai shook his head as he paid the driver before following the raven-haired storm out.  

          The lobby was a bit lively as both people and valets were bustling around. Looking at the number of guests, Nikolai felt a wave of unease in his stomach. He didn't know where it came from, but he knew better than to ignore a gut feeling. 

          They walked over to the front desk and Nikolai instantly put on his signature grin. 

          "Room for two please," he said.

          The receptionist smiled back, but he noticed that it was apologetic. Oh no. Nikolai dreaded her next words. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid that the guest before you had taken one of the last two rooms currently available."

          Nikolai blinked. Oh no, indeed. "So basically, you're saying that there's only one room left," he said, though he already knew the answer beforehand. He just needed to hear it for a second time to make sure he wasn't imagining things. 

          "Yes, sir, that is what I meant."

          So this was the gut feeling from earlier. He didn't know what to make of it. 

          Zoya appeared at his side a moment later. "Can you please double-check?" she asked the woman. "You might have possibly missed one."

          Nikolai looked at the receptionist expectantly as she peered over the screen. After a long moment, she only said, "One queen room on the fifth floor." She shook her head, her apologetic smile returning. "That's really the only one available."

          Whatever the world had in store for them both was definitely not amusing. 

          Without much of a choice, Nikolai said, "We'll take it."

          He immediately felt Zoya's sharp gaze on him the moment the first word came out of his mouth, so he turned to her with a grimace. 

          "The next one is far more distant from the plant, Nazyalensky," he said sheepishly. It was actually true, but the way she was glaring at him made him forget whatever explanation he was about to add. "Stop murdering me with your eyes."

          Zoya's jaw twitched in annoyance. "Why didn't you make a reservation earlier in the week?"

          Nikolai could only answer with a wince. "That's my bad."

          "Yeah, that's definitely your bad." 

          "Hey, at least I don't have to come over to your room to review this evening."

          It was most likely the wrong thing to say. Zoya Nazyalensky could make anyone cower with a mere raise of an eyebrow, but a glaring Zoya Nazyalensky? It only meant murder.

          Nikolai was saved when the receptionist gave them the keycard. 

          "Enjoy your stay," she said, oblivious of the murder-by-glaring that was happening between them.

          If she doesn't murder me by tonight, I probably will. But he could only give a smile as thanks before he turned to Zoya. 

          Nikolai held out the card to her. "I'll buy you coffee for next week?" he offered with a sheepish smile. He could only hope that she would accept. 

          She considered him for a moment, and then she snatched the keycard from his hand with a huff. "A week," she echoed, pointing a finger at him. 

          A grin appeared on his face; he knew he was already forgiven. "Of course," he said. "I know you can't be mad at me for long." 

          "Whatever," she mumbled before walking past him. 

          Nikolai only smiled at her retreating form. Why did she have this certain effect on him? He'd never know. 

          It's probably just the way it always had been. 

***

Evening came, and they already had settled nicely in the room. It was great, cozy and a bit too big, except for the fact that it only had one bed. Nikolai was hogging the whole desk, while Zoya was on the bed beside it. 

          Both places were a mess of notebooks and papers and two frustrated students. 

          Nikolai was furiously scribbling over his own copy of the problem set he had printed, the organization of his solutions in absolute shambles as he fought against the time to answer a problem. 

          A few moments later, Zoya let out a string of curses. 

          "What?"

          "I used the wrong value of heat capacity,” she said, and then she was shuffling through the handbook nearest to her.

          Nikolai tossed a thin stack of paper at her. “Don’t use the handbook’s data, it’s evil. Van Ness’ data is more accurate.”

          “Isn’t he using the one from the handbook?”

          “He doesn’t. He just says he does but when I checked, it’s all wrong. Such crimes.” Nikolai got distracted from his momentum, and his mind ended up shutting down. He slammed the pen down on the table, removing his glasses. “I have no idea if the postponed visit is a blessing or a curse.”

          Zoya huffed. “Probably both, but more on the latter. Because I’m stuck in the same room as you,” she said, turning back her attention to the paper he gave her. 

          Nikolai turned his chair to her direction, feigning a hurt expression as he did. “But it’s economical to have one huge room instead of two.”

          “Good for the economy, yes. But for me? Probably not.”

          “Harsh.”

          Zoya waved the pen at him. “Honest.” She began scribbling on the paper on her lap again. After a long moment, she beamed, her grin lighting up her whole demeanor. Nikolai fought a smile on his lips. “I got it.”

          He raised a brow as she handed him back his data sheet along with her solution. He eyed the paper with surprise, glancing at his watch. “Eight minutes,” he said, regarding her with respect. “I got lost in the sea of numbers.”

          “Eight minutes in hell, yes. When it’s actually the exam day, those eight minutes will be twenty.”

          “Blink, and five minutes will pass.”

          Zoya laughed darkly. “That is one way to say it,” she said, leaning back on the headboard and closing her eyes. She looked exhausted, Nikolai noticed. The dark circles around her eyes were already prominent. 

          “Why don’t you try and get some sleep first?” He looked at the clock on his laptop screen. “It’s almost midnight. We’ll have to get up by eight.” He paused, and then added, “Don’t worry, I’ll take the floor.”

          “Don’t be stupid, the bed is big enough for the two of us. And the floor is cold, for sure,” Zoya said, cracking one eye open to glare at him. “Just make sure to stay on your side of the bed.”

          Nikolai put a hand to his chest. “I am definitely moved, Nazyalensky. I think this is one of the rare times you considered my well-being,” he said jokingly. 

          “Stop being annoying or I’ll take it back and make you sleep on the balcony.”

          “Such cruel intentions.”

          “Only for you,” she said, giving him a wink that caught him off-guard. It wasn’t usual that Zoya would answer back to his playful remarks. But whenever she did, it always surprised him. She began fixing her things in a neat stack. “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

          Nikolai blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He didn’t realize he had been staring at her; his lack of sleep was catching up to him. “Maybe later. I’m not tired yet.” He smiled, gesturing to the coffee mug beside his notes. “Besides, I still have fuel.”

          Zoya put her things on the space at the other end of Nikolai’s table. “I need to know your secret of having endless energy.”

          “Unlimited supply of coffee and optimism usually do the work.”

          “I only have the former.”

          Nikolai laughed and put his glasses back on his eyes. “I can probably pass some of mine to you,” he said.

          “I’d take it.” Zoya settled at the far right side of the bed, crawling under the blankets and putting it until her shoulders. And then she mumbled, “Don’t overwork yourself too much.”

          He had barely written anything on the paper when he stopped again. Nikolai glanced over Zoya, who had already begun snoring, a soft smile twitching on his lips. 

          Perhaps being stuck in one room wasn’t so bad after all.

***

Two hours and endless yawns later, Nikolai felt sleep pulling him from his work. He was almost done with his problem set that had twenty problems, but he figured he’d continue it sometime later after they got back from the first day of the plant visit. He thought that they’d get free time to stroll around or lounge in their room. Or just sleep in throughout the day, as they had always lacked sleep due to their tight schedule. 

          But the midterm in one of their major subjects wasn’t getting extended or moved, and like the very punctual students they were, they’d only started reviewing less than a week before the actual exam. 

          With a tired sigh, Nikolai took off his glasses and put it on the top of the messy stack of papers. The clock on the lower right of his screen showed 2:05. Six hours sounded enough.

          He looked at the bed, seeing Zoya sprawled across the bed and almost occupying the whole bed. Nikolai scratched the back of his ear with a grimace. So much for staying on their own sides of the bed. 

          “Stay true to your words at times, Zo,” he muttered, already considering sleeping on the floor. But when he looked down at the carpeted floor, it didn’t look as inviting as the sheets on the bed. 

          Nikolai sighed as he settled on the other side, near the very edge, trying to balance himself on whatever space was left for him. He made sure to not wake up the sleeping dragon beside him as he pulled the covers around his shoulders. Their close proximity only added to the warmth he felt all over his neck. 

          Zoya shifted, and he felt her presence much closer on his back. Nikolai sighed exasperatedly.

          Saints, he’s probably going to die early.

          He shook his head. He was going to stay on his side of the bed until morning, and he’d make sure to do it. 

          Nikolai moved a bit closer to the edge, maintaining a distance between him and Zoya, before closing his eyes and letting sleep take over.

***

The sound of the blaring alarm echoed through the room, and Zoya groggily cursed under her breath. She had forgotten to set off her usual early alarm during weekdays. 

          “What the hell?” a voice mumbled. Why did it sound very near? 

          She looked up with squinted eyes narrowed due to sleep, her gaze meeting the very familiar, and also groggy hazel eyes. It took Zoya a moment to process everything. When she finally did, her eyes widened.

          Her head was nestled on Nikolai’s chest. 

          And his arm was wrapped firmly around her shoulders.

          A beat, and then Nikolai was literally jumping out of the bed as if he were burned, his face sheepish and apologetic at the same time. A wince was evident on his face as he opened his mouth to speak. “Saints, I’m so sorry,” he said, terror lacing his voice. He raised both arms in surrender. “I didn’t—” He stopped, shaking his head. Then he repeated, “I’m sorry.”

          His usually combed back hair was sticking out in all directions and she had the strong urge to brush it back from his forehead—

          Zoya averted her gaze, mentally chastising herself. “It’s fine,” she said, though it felt too forced for her own liking. Her heart hammered in her chest and she took a deep breath in hopes to calm her down. But it still seemed futile. With much more conviction, she said, “It’s fine.”

          She rubbed at her arms, feeling the absence of extra warmth from him fade in the coldness of their room. The alarm was still blaring, and Zoya reached over the nightstand to turn it off. When she finally did, she stayed on her place with her back to Nikolai, whom she felt his gaze trained on her even without looking. 

          She knew that the infuriating blond had slept late again, just as he always did, she felt bad having to cut his sleep off for at least two more hours. Nikolai could never get back to sleep once he woke up from his slumber. 

          “I’m sorry, I forgot to turn it off.” Zoya looked at the numbers at the top of her screen. 6:02. Too early. She glanced over her shoulder, still not trying to meet his eyes. “I’ll get some early breakfast. You can shower first.” She narrowed her eyes at him, her usual snarkiness not going so well. She was really caught off guard with what just happened. “Make sure you’re done when I get back.”

          Zoya got up and quickly left the room before she could even hear his reply. She had no idea what she would say if she stayed for a bit longer. 

          It was nothing, she told herself. But the still pounding of her heart said otherwise.

          When she got back half an hour later with their breakfast, Nikolai was shrugging on a dark button-down shirt and combing—more of attempting to—his hair at the same time, clearly in a hurry. Zoya almost laughed at the sight. 

          The blond seemed to notice her presence by the door and turned to her, offering her a grateful smile as he went over her and took the coffee from her other hand. “Let me guess,” he said, “black coffee?”

          “Black as my soul.” Zoya could still feel the awkwardness between them, but it wasn’t as heavy as earlier. “Be a dear and set up the table on the balcony while I shower, will you?”

          “Of course,” Nikolai said, taking the brown paper bag from her hand. “Anything for you.” He gave her a wink before walking to the balcony, whistling in his usual off-key tune. 

          Zoya eyed his retreating form with a tired sigh. It was going to be a long day.

***

“Seriously, I feel like a week has already passed since we arrived,” Nikolai complained over the bed, making Zoya snort from her place from the table. He frowned, eyeing her above his glasses. “Alright, whose alarm blared at six in the morning and cut off my sleep to three hours?”

          “Are we playing the blame game now?” Zoya tried to forget the night before, but it seemed branded into her mind. “It’s good to wake up early sometimes, Lantsov.”

          Nikolai wrinkled his nose. “Easier said than done, dear.”

          The first day of the visit lasted for a few hours; it covered mostly the overview of the whole production and the kinds of equipment used. Nikolai handled most of the talking and asking, effectively pleasing their guide Mr. Grigori, who was the head engineer. 

          Zoya was more focused on the concepts and the actual process, which would be covered in the next day.

          After their visit, they had a late lunch in a small diner near the plant, because Nikolai was complaining about his growling stomach that wouldn’t last until the trip back to their hotel. So it involved them lounging there far longer than necessary as they had begun arguing—again—on something about the process mentioned to them by Grigori. Anyone who was within earshot probably had frowned and looked at them weirdly. 

          Now evening came and it was time for them to review or just pretend to review, but Nikolai decided to hog the bed this time because it was ‘his turn’ as per the infuriating blond’s words.

          Zoya shuffled through the stapled papers that were Nikolai’s solutions from last night. “You’ve finished all twenty items?” she asked in bewilderment. “What time did you sleep?”

          “Three,” he replied with a wince. He was putting away his things from the bed. “I’m retreating for the night. The numbers are already flying out of the pages and I can’t get them back.”

          “It’s ten in the evening.” Zoya glanced at the clock on her laptop screen to confirm. It was only five minutes past ten. She raised a brow as she turned back to him. “And you’re sleeping? Is this a miracle?”

          Nikolai sighed. “Yes,” he said, “and also because you might hog the whole bed again and I’m left dangling on the edge.”

          “No, I didn’t.”

          "Yes, you did, Nazyalensky."

          Zoya's mind decided to make her remember about their position earlier this morning, and it immediately made her face heat up. "Alright, I admit my mistake," she said, closing her laptop. 

          "Zoya Nazyalensky, admitting her mistake?" Nikolai said, removing his glasses for more emphasis and dramatic effect. "Is this a miracle?"

          "Shut up, or I will smother you in your sleep."

          "Such cruel declarations."

          "Only for you." 

          Zoya stood up and went to her side of the bed, crawling under the covers with a contented sigh. 

          "You're sleeping too?" She heard Nikolai ask beside her. 

          "Obviously, you idiot," replied Zoya with narrowed eyes. "And also because I'm making sure you won't hog the whole bed."

          Nikolai gasped dramatically. "I don't splay myself in an undignified manner like you." He arranged some of the extra pillows in a line between them. "There's our boundary, okay? Make sure you stay on your side."

          Zoya rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I'd say the same to you, Lantsov." 

***

Apparently, it still happened again. 

          Zoya woke up to the sound of soft snoring, the smell of mint immediately invading her nose and waking her mind up. She looked up to see Nikolai’s still-sleeping face inches from her own, his arm wrapped around her waist as hers was around his torso. 

          She had a second to admire his peaceful look before she realized that they were snuggling again. 

          With a firm tug, Zoya pulled away from his arms, effectively waking the blond. His eyes widened instantly and he reared back.

          "The pillow line didn't work," Nikolai said, wiping a hand over his face. He gave her an apologetic smile that looked more of a wince. "Sorry." 

          Zoya waved a dismissive hand. "It's fine," she muttered. She was taking the couch tonight.They were flying home tomorrow, anyway. She got up from the bed and turned to him. "Your turn to get breakfast. I'm going to shower." 

          Nikolai raised a brow. "Just like that? No 'good morning'?"

          Her reply was throwing a pillow over to his face before disappearing to the bathroom. 

***

The second visit was a bit better, though it went longer than the one they had yesterday. Zoya was completely engrossed in the processes Grigori was explaining, and it earned an amused chuckle from the infuriating blond to which she answered with a stomp to his foot. 

          When the tour was over, Grigori had adored the both of them enough for him to give his business card and tell them that they could intern in the plant in the near future.

          Zoya finally considered the trip as a win after the hapless events that happened to them in the past few days. 

          But the bad luck seemed to return right after they left. 

          It had been sunny for a while, and then suddenly the skies decided to rain down heavily. And, of course, being the good students they were, they hadn't bothered to bring an umbrella on their way here. 

          After a long, shivering ride back to the hotel, they made it back to their room.

          "I swear, the world is throwing shit at us on purpose," said Zoya the moment the door was shut. "The rain came out of nowhere."

          Nikolai laughed lightly. "Ah, yes. Always expect the unexpected, truffle."

          "I always expect the worst, Lantsov."

"Then consider this as one of the worst scenarios." He gestured to the bathroom. "You go first, you might get sick."

          Zoya raised a brow, taking in his appearance. He was much more drenched from when he covered her head with his jacket the moment the rain had fallen. She eyed him with concern. "Are you sure?" she asked. "Your state of dress is much worse than mine."

          Nikolai only waved a hand, a smirk evident on his lips. "Go on, Nazyalensky. Don't go soft on me now."

          She only rolled her eyes in disbelief. Still the idiot. 

***

Nikolai felt exhausted. But the trip was over and they'd be heading back tomorrow. It didn’t take that long for them to pack as they were both a bit organized with their things—all except in their notes and solutions. 

          He was just closing his laptop after writing a brief introduction of their plant visit report, as he wanted to retreat a bit earlier because they have the morning flight tomorrow, when he noticed that Zoya had been too silent. It was only ten in the evening, but she was already curled up to her side of the bed. 

          "Zoya?" Nikolai tried calling out to her, and, as he had initially expected, there was no answer. 

          He felt concern twinge in his chest as he went to check on her. When he was near enough, it was only then he realized that she was shivering despite the blankets wrapped tightly around her shoulders. 

          Nikolai eyed her with worry. "Zoya?" he asked gently, and then he reached a hand to her forehead. She was burning up. He quickly knelt down beside the bed, brushing her hair away from her face. "Zoya, love, you have a fever. Have you taken any medicine yet?"

          Zoya's eyebrows were drawn tightly, her face scrunching up as if she were in pain. "Already did. . . .an hour ago. ." she muttered. She clutched the blanket tighter around her. Then she added, "I feel like shit."

          Weirdly enough, it made him laugh in relief. At least she was still herself. "That's already a good sign of recovery," Nikolai said, tucking the covers around her more. "You'll feel a bit better in the morning." 

          "Hmm…"

          He considered it for another moment, but he figured that Zoya was in no shape to travel as early as five in the morning even if her fever broke after a few hours. It would still be hard for her.

          Giving a quick call to the airlines, Nikolai requested a reschedule on the next flight in the afternoon. But all the afternoon flights back home were already booked, so the result was them having another red-eye flight at eleven next evening. 

          Zoya would probably axe him again for it, but it was better than having her force out of her rest while she was recovering from her fever. 

          Nikolai slipped under the covers when he got the new finalized schedule of their flight. He looked over Zoya's still-shivering form. He only hesitated for a second before reaching out and wrapping his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin.

          She was warm enough to suffice for the coldness inside their room, and Nikolai pulled the covers tighter around them.

          Even in her state, Zoya made an attempt to move away from his arms. "No," she mumbled weakly. But then after a short struggle, he felt her shift closer to him as if she were finally convinced. "You'll get sick too…"

          Nikolai laughed lightly. "I'll be fine," he said softly. "You were actually the first one to shower after being drenched in the rain but you were still the one to get sick." He paused before jokingly adding, "And besides, you're hogging the whole blanket all to yourself."

          "...idiot."

          "Don't worry, I'm your idiot," he said. "Now go to sleep."

          "Whatever."

          A moment later, Zoya was already snoring. Nikolai pressed his cheek against her hair and closed his eyes. 

          Sleep came comfortably this time. 

***

He woke several hours later to some gentle nudging. Nikolai groggily opened his eyes and met Zoya's tired ones, his eyebrows furrowing. 

          "What?"

          "Our flight home, what time is it again?"

          Nikolai leaned back with squinted eyes, putting a hand to her forehead instead of answering. She still had a slight fever, but at least she was able to speak straight now. "Don't worry about it, get some more rest," he said, feeling the heaviness on his eyes coming back. He tucked her back under his chin and closed his eyes. "You can still sleep in." 

          He had momentarily forgotten that Zoya wasn't easy to convince. "I remember you mentioning something about an early morning flight. What—" 

          "I rescheduled it."

          There was a short silence and then she said quietly, "Oh," He felt her arms snaking around his waist. "You could've just said so right away." 

          Nikolai chuckled. "I doubt you would have believed me if I said it right away," he reasoned tiredly. "How are you feeling?"

          "A bit better than last night," she replied. "And warm."

          "That's good." He tightened his arms around her. "Go back to sleep."

          Zoya only hummed as a reply. 

***

Zoya hadn't realized that when Nikolai told her to sleep in, he also meant that she wasn't allowed to get up from the bed. He had insisted not to worry about anything and did most things like going down to get breakfast and lunch, and even buying her favorite energy drink that she had been mulling over whether to ask him to buy or not. 

          She ended up not able to ask that of him because he was already out of the door when she worked up the courage. But, somehow, Nikolai had still come back with two cans of it. 

          So here she was, stuffed under the blankets and glaring at Nikolai as he switched the channels back and forth on the TV they'd barely used during their stay. 

          "Please don't tell me that you booked another flight in the dead of the night," she said, stuffing a pillow on her back as she leaned on the headboard to see the TV better.

          It was five in the afternoon, and she was feeling a lot like her old self now, except for the occasional throbs of pain in the back of her shoulder from lying in the same position for a while. 

          She glanced at the blond, who was still busy frowning on the remote.

          "Joke's on you, Nazyalensky, but I booked a flight in the dead of the night," he said without looking at her. "Well, in my defense, all the afternoon flights were packed. It's the only time available."

          "You shouldn't have rescheduled it," she said under her breath, but he seemed to have heard it. 

          Nikolai raised a brow to her direction. "Trust me, when I woke up at three in the morning to check your temperature, it was still quite alarming," he said. "I doubt you'll be able to get up without passing out on the spot."

          Zoya blinked, suddenly reminded of how he had kept her warm and took care of her throughout the night. She only remembered flashes because of her hazy state of mind, but she was sure of those images.

          "Are you feeling better now?" he asked after a moment. 

          "Yeah, sure," she replied, wrapping the covers tighter around her shoulder. "Never better." 

          Nikolai chuckled. "That's good news. At least I don't have to carry you on my back on our way to the airport." 

          Zoya kicked his leg, earning another laugh from the blond. "Idiot," she muttered.

          "A fine idiot, I am," he said with a wink. He switched the channel again, and beamed. "Ah, there you go."

          "What—oh no, you're not." Zoya glared at Nikolai, who only had a grin on his face as he looked at the TV screen. His eyes were alight in amusement. "A reality tv show? Really?" 

          "It's good to have some trashy shows in your system at times. It's fun." He held the remote out of her arm's reach when Zoya tried snatching it away from him. "Na-uh, we're definitely watching this." 

          Zoya huffed. "You know, we still have the midterm on Monday, and it's already Friday. So why don't you stop wasting your time and review?" 

          "But you're sick." 

          "So?" 

          "No study buddy means no review." He gave her a toothy grin. "There's no 'I' in 'team', truffle."

          "But there's two in 'idiot', though."

          "Harsh."

          "Honest."

***

Zoya got a bit engrossed with the show, despite trying her best not to, even coming to a point that the two of them were already doing angry commentaries as it progressed. 

          And true enough to Nikolai’s words, it was quite fun. Or maybe they had just been too focused on reviewing in whatever time they had in the past days. 

          Soon enough, the episode ended in a way they didn't expect because they were agreeing—one of the rare times—on the most likely ending of tonight's episode. But when it didn't happen, Zoya cursed aloud, and continued to even as the credits rolled.

          "What the hell was that? That wasn't supposed to—" she stopped abruptly when she looked over at Nikolai, who was already fast asleep, still leaning on the headboard with the remote in his hand. 

          So that was why he was silent for the last ten minutes. Zoya thought that he had just been too focused on the show like she was, but it had been entirely the opposite instead. 

          She couldn't help a small smile from  twitching on her lips as she eyed his sleeping form. It was only one of the rare times he wasn't being annoying or blabbering; she might as well bask in the moment. 

          Nikolai shifted for a bit, and his glasses fell down slightly on his nose. Zoya only hesitated for a second before reaching a hand out and removing his glasses from his eyes. She set it down on the nightstand beside him, and, with a bit of effort, draped a part of the blankets around him, moving closer to him as she did. 

          Zoya had to admit that he was a great snuggler; not that she would admit it aloud to his fathead. 

          A moment later, she felt Nikolai turn to her, mumbling, "You doing okay?" 

          His eyes were still closed, and Zoya had to laugh lightly at his look. "Of course, I wouldn't want to reschedule our flight again." She paused, and before she could lose the courage, she mumbled, "Thank you."

          Nikolai seemed to understand, and he chuckled, nudging her head with his affectionately. "Anything for you," he said, and Zoya felt her cheeks heat up. She was going to kill him for having this effect on her. "Get some sleep."

          "As if we haven't been getting that all day." 

          "Our flight is at eleven."

          Zoya scowled. "Saints, I'm never forgiving you for that."

          Nikolai gave a tired laugh as reply, though it sounded more of a hum instead. "Oh, please. You adore me."

          She stopped at that, feeling her heart hammer in her chest. He was silent after that, followed by the sound of his soft snores. 

          Zoya pondered over his words with slight panic. Maybe she really did. 

          Shit. 

***

Hours later, they were finally at the airport. Zoya had been mumbling at him all throughout their way here that she was going to make him buy her coffee for two weeks instead of one. And Nikolai only laughed loudly in reply. 

          "Hey, can I borrow your phone for a bit?" he asked, just before they boarded the plane. "I'll send a quick text to Professor Juris to inform him we're heading home. My phone's dead."

          Zoya was scribbling something on her notebook when he asked, and she only nodded before fishing out her phone from her pocket and handing it to him. She remembered a certain detail about their visit out of the blue that might be useful in their research later, so she wasted no time trying to jot it down for reference. 

          A light chuckle from the blond caught her attention, and Zoya looked up from her notebook, her eyebrows raised. 

          "So, Zoya, did you like sleeping with me?" Nikolai asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he showed her an email from her phone.

          It was from the front desk two days ago saying that another room had opened up. 

          And her reply saying that they were fine with their single room directly below the email. 

          "My, my, Nazyalensky, you could've just told me," he said with a knowing grin. 

          Zoya felt her face heat up as she snatched her phone from his hand, and then also kicking his shin for good measure. "It's cheaper to stay in one room," she said defensively, but she knew otherwise. But she wasn't going to admit that. "Stop thinking too highly of yourself."

          "Harsh," Nikolai said, dramatically putting a hand to his chest. 

          "Honest."

          "Then can you admit that you didn't actually mind cuddling with me for the past few nights?" 

          "Shut up, or I'm changing your deal to three weeks."

          Nikolai's hearty laugh echoed in her ears as she brushed past him, climbing up the plane. 

          She was definitely getting back at him.

***

When she successfully snatched away and downed his drink on the flight later, she considered it as a win. 

          "The Zoya Nazyalensky engaging in underage drinking?" Nikolai said. 

          Zoya chuckled darkly. "Nobody would notice, anyway."

          "You snatched my drink, why not snatch my hand and hold it too?" he said after a long moment, giving her a wink. 

          She immediately kicked his leg with a muttered curse, her face heating up. "Shut up."

***

Zoya still held his hand, anyway. 

[thebonggirll]

Chapter 16 - Cavalry Battle

Chapter 15

Bakugou was already fuming about that stupid Deku getting the first position in the first round when Y/N suddenly grabbed his shoulder and talked to him in a way that no one dared to do before. He looked at the girl who still had her eyebrows furrowed while talking to her childhood friend. He was embarrassed and-

"Now the real fun begins." Bakugou heard Midnight's voice boom across the arena. The students gathered around as she explained the rules of the second event - Cavalry Battle.

Participants will form teams with a maximum of 4 people and then get in a horse configuration. The objective was to earn points by swiping other teams' headbands while protecting their own. The value of a team's headband would be the sum of the points each person on the team received based on their performance in the previous competition.

The person who ranked last would be worth 5 points, and each rank above that would be worth 5 more points than the previous one, with the exception of 1st place, which was worth 10 million points. Everyone's eyes fixated on Midoriya. His team was going to be targeted mostly.

The one to wear the headband must be the rider, and they were not allowed to wear it below their neck. If the team lose their headband or crumble as a horse configuration, they would still not be eliminated. Participants were allowed to use their Quirks, but, should they attack with the malicious intention of harming another participant, they will be forced out of the game.

Y/N looked at Todoroki from the distance who was talking to Kaminari, Momo and Iida. "I mean I can ask him atleast.", she thought and walked to them.

"H-Hey Todoroki? You have already decided or-"

"Sorry Y/N.." Momo apologized.

"Oh no no!" Y/N shook her head, "It's fine!" She sighed and looked around. Hot-head was surrounded by many students. Y/N didn't expect him out of all the people to be in demand. She in no way was going to be in his team. Not only because their quirk are basically polar opposites but also because of the little crap that Bakugou spouted. Yes she was mad about it. She was allowed to feel that way.

But now the problem was..who was going to team with her? Looking around she already found students with plans made up before and teams set up. Shoji maybe? He didn't find anyone too. She was walking towards him when Sero stopped her.

"Hey you don't have a team to join yet right?" He asked.

Y/N blinked looking at him and said, "..Not yet."

"Well join our team then!"

"Uhh..sure but who's in-" her eyes moved behind him as she watched the rest of his team members - Kirishima and Bakugou.

"Our quirks aren't compatible." Unknowingly the frown came back to her face.

"Hey look. I get it, y'all have problems but can you just put aside your personal issues and look at it as just participants of a competition? We need you. Your quirk is powerful." He explained, "Also, your quirks can be compatible in ways which you guys don't know about. You just never once considered to think about it."

Y/N's frown deepened as she realized that he was actually right and never thought about it that way. She sighed and said, "Okay."

Even though she managed to make new friends, they had their priorities sorted when it came to their career. Ofcourse she was approached by some people who wanted her to be in the team but after her little speech in the arena before the competition, she didn't really feel comfortable with anyone other than her classmates. It felt like they would only try to use her because of her quirk and if anything happened, guess who's the first one they'll be ready to sacrifice? If given an option, she would avoid joining the team Bakugou was in. Ofcourse it was a matter of her self-respect.

But then again it was also a matter of her stupid ego. Which she had to stomp on if she was going to make a name for herself as a good hero.

Y/N walked to the team, her cheeks reddening out of embarrassment. "Plan and Execute. That's it.", she whispered to herself in reassurance. It wasn't like she had a choice OR a good plan. Her team had Bakugou who was not only strong but smart.

"You're joining?" Kirishima asked, "Woah...I didn't feel like you'll agree."

Bakugou was observing her. She can feel it but she refused to look at him.

"She had no other choice." His smug voice entered her ears.

"Do we have a plan?" She asked, still not looking at him.

Bakugou normally didn't pay much attention to anyone. But for someone to be in his team AND to have the audacity to ignore him, he was surely angry.

"Fucking look at me when you're talking. Or you don't have the guts to do that too?"

She looked back at him and asked again, gritting her teeth, "Do we have a damn plan."

"Ofcourse we have a plan." His face broke into a wicked grin as he said, "We are taking the 10 million from your boyfriend."

"Don't call him my boyfriend." Y/N muttered, averting her eyes. The term just reminded her more about the stupid crush she had on this guy, and she was in no mood to feel giddy about it. Infact, she was getting more mad at herself for even liking a guy like him.

Her whole demeanor - starting from the way she talked with him to the way she refused to look at him - everything was noticed by Bakugou. He didn't get to think much because of the announcement of second round but he knew what he was thinking of at that time.

Embarrassment and fucking guilt.

As soon as the event started, just like everyone, Team Bakugou was also running towards Midoriya. But something happened while they were busy chasing him. A guy from section B, specifically, Team Monoma snatched their headband. Which ended up in Team Bakugou with zero points.

"Your class is too small minded. Think bigger." Monoma said.

Bakugou as usual lost his temper and yelled, "What did you say! Come back here!"

"Midnight said the obstacle course was just the first game. And we figured they wouldn't cut that many of us right off the bat, would they?" Monoma looked back, "Assuming they'd keep atleast 40 of the contestants in the next event, all we had to do was to stay within that group and run. From our spots in the middle rank, we could fully observe the quirks that our rivals have and judge their capabilities. Only a fool would obsess over preliminary round, wouldn't you agree?"

He tied the headband around his neck and continued, "Oh while I have your attention, you're kinda famous aren't you?"

Y/N knew what this kid was talking about. It was a sensitive issue for Bakugou and this guy knew exactly what he was doing. Yes, he was successfully making Bakugou mad but the thing is..

...they don't know what he is capable of doing and especially, when he's mad.

"You got attacked by that sludge villain. You must tell about it sometime. It must be strange for a hero to be in a role of a victim."

"Kirishima." Bakugou said, "We have a change of plans. Before we take down Deku, we are gonna kill every one of these B list idiots." No one ever saw him being that mad, and it scared the rest of the team members.

But she was also pissed about the trash talk they had to listen to from this section since they were shown in the national television. Bakugou was at fault too, ofcourse, but that shouldn't cloud their opinions about every single one of the students of section A.

"Smart, my fucking ass." Y/N thought.

"Please don't make us regret this!" Kirishima said as they started running towards Team Monoma. But they were quick to dodge Bakugou's attack. It took a few seconds for them to realize what Monoma's quirk was. Copy.

Ofcourse it didn't stop Bakugou. As soon as Team Monoma started running away again, He jumped off of Kirishima and flew towards them using his quirk. But once again, he got stopped by their team's Solid Air quirk.

Like it was mentioned before, they don't know what he's capable of. Bakugou was able to break through the solid air and he jumped back. Sero was quick to catch him before he hit the ground.

"We told you to warn us before you jump!" Sero said.

"Whatever, atleast we are advancing-" Kirishima said but got interrupted by Bakugou yelling, "We are not done!!!"

"Boy, you are that pissed." Y/N said as they continued running.

"I couldn't brace myself earlier when I jumped! Get closer! We'll get our points back from these idiots! Then go for the big one!" Bakugou yelled, "Elbow guy! Tape up!"

Sero released his tape forward at high speed, "My name's Sero."

"Speed up Grandma!"

"I told you to stop calling me that!" Y/N said, "Don't slip and hold onto each other firmly!" Releasing a huge gush of water from her feet and using it like a jet ski, she moved forward at a high speed towards their opponent.

It took only a few seconds. Y/N used her quirk to get close and Bakugou used his quirk to break the solid air in front of them created by Team Monoma, then snatching all of their headbands.

"Now we are going after Deku and Todoroki!" Bakugou said turning to his left where Todoroki created an ice barrier, probably to trap Midoriya. Being the impatient boy he was, Bakugou broke the barrier and jumped ahead, without warning his team, again.

And time was up.

Team Todoroki was the winner of the second round. And Team Bakugou was the second. Although, he didn't look too happy with it.

But what came as a surprise was the third winner. Team Shinsou, one with the purple haired guy. Y/N finally came to know about his name.

"Hey congrats Y/N!" Tzuyu said approaching her.

"Yeah I didn't do much, Bakugou just wanted me in to melt Todoroki's ice and for high speed." she replied. Tzuyu then went to crongratulate the others who passed.

"God I'm gonna hate myself for this." Y/N whispered to herself in the meantime. "Hey Bakugou," she called noticing him standing alone and complaining, "Uh, good work. We...wouldn't be in the second place if you weren't so hard-headed."

"What did you just call me!"

"I meant it as a compliment. But, don't get used to it buddy."

"I don't care, I wanted to be the first."

"And I just want to be a good hero." Y/N knew that she was bringing back the topic but she couldn't help herself, "Using unethical ways to be one is just not me. That's all I have to say."

Bakugou couldn't speak any word other than "okay", but Y/N was content with it.

It meant that he listened and probably was sorry about it.

.....Yeah, not so sure about the last one.

Chapter 17

SEASON - II

Ignite

MASTERLIST

tags: @captncappuccino​

[poetatertot]

It’s Not So Bad (In LA): part two

“So.” Wei Wuxian perches on the couch arm. “The summer camp seems to be working out.”

They’ve ordered a pizza for dinner—the sweet luxury of pay day. Jin Ling has sauce all over his chin, and greasy cheese fingers. Jiang Cheng watches him rip two pepperonis off the top and stack them in his mouth. 

“Yeah.” He sips his water. “You really like it, don’t you a-Ling?”

His nephew grunts through his mouthful. “It’s alright. Coach Xichen is too nice, though.”

Wei Wuxian lifts an eyebrow. “Too nice? How can someone be too nice?”

Jin Ling shrugs one shoulder. “He smiles so much. He makes us all share. He listens to all of Lan Jingyi’s stupid stories, even though he tells the same ones ove and over.” He scowls. “Lan Jingyi is stupid.”

Jiang Cheng snorts. “Big words coming from you.”

“What does that mean?”

Wei Wuxian cackles. “Uncle thinks you’re a clown!”

Jin Ling’s face screws up around his food. “But didn’t Wei-gege say Uncle was a fat—”

Wei Wuxian lunges across the table and slaps one hand over Jin Ling’s greasy mouth. 

Jiang Cheng swallows his crust. “No, go on, a-Ling. Tell me.”

Jin Ling’s eyes flick between them. “Um.. He scoots back his chair. “I have to pee!” He runs down the hall and slams the door behind him.

Jiang Cheng glares. “What bullshit are you telling my nephew?”

“Ah-ah, our nephew, a-Cheng!” Wei Wuxian ducks under Jiang Cheng’s swing. “He just needs to know the truth is all!”

“I’ll show you truth, you big, mangy—” 

They tussle, pulling hair and knocking plates until Jin Ling returns and squabbles at them for fighting. 

The next morning, Jiang Cheng wakes early enough to catch Wei Wuxian in the kitchen. Coffee brews from their old Kitchenaid, filling the living room with cheap-bean-smell. Jiang Cheng wrinkles his nose.

“I’m taking a-Ling to camp.”

Wei Wuxian peeks up from under his bangs. “Oh? Have something to do afterwards?” He frowns. “I thought it was my turn to get groceries.”

“It is.” Jiang Cheng fiddles with the peeling edge of the countertop. “I’m going to just drop him off and come back before work.”

They stand in silence for a moment. The Kitchenaid beeps feebly and turns off. 

A warm flush threatens to betray Jiang Cheng’s composure. He turns away, pinching at the behavior update Jin Ling came home with—a whole page of pen-written characters, signed at the bottom with elegant flourish. 

Lan Xichen.

“If you say so,” Wei Wuxian sing-songs. “Should I get those loquats you like while I’m out, then?”

Jiang Cheng thumbs over the signature. “I don’t care. You’re the one that likes them, remember?”

“Hmm.” 

He looks up. Wei Wuxian smiles back at him from the kitchenette, dark eyes bright. 

“What?” Jiang Cheng demands.

“Nothing,” Wei Wuxian says, but he grins into his mug as he lies, and Jiang Cheng knows he’s been caught. “Shall I pick him up this evening, then? Before groceries?”

The idea of Wei Wuxian laying eyes on Lan Xichen makes Jiang Cheng want to hide in the closest dumpster. Or move back to San Francisco. Or both. 

But he can’t be irrational. He has work; Wei Wuxian knows this.

“Do what you want,” he mutters, and lets the report fall from his fingers.

When they pull up to the Y—Jiang Cheng parks Zidian in the right spot this time—there aren’t too many kids. In fact, they’re a whole half-hour early. 

Jiang Cheng likes to think this is a coincidence. 

“Come on, a-Ling.” He pats his nephew’s leg. “Unbuckle. We’re here.”

Mianmian—because Jiang Cheng still hasn’t figured out her real name and doesn’t want to ask—sits at the front desk again. She looks up and actually beams at the sight of them.

“On time for Day 2!” She waves her pen. “That’s the spirit!”

“Er, yeah.” Jiang Cheng shoves Jin Ling in front. “Where’s today’s meetup for the 8-12’s?”

“Second door on the right.” Mianmian checks her monitor. “Looks like today is Morning Craft-Making! Have fun a-Ling!”

Jin Ling flushes an impressive shade of pink. “Thanks.”

The room in question is like a clown-house: bright tiles, walls covered in handprints, art tacked on every available surface. The smell of glue and paint hangs like nostalgic cloud; Jiang Cheng inhales deep and instantly is flung back to fifth grade when he painted purple dragons the whole year. They still have a few of them stored away. Somewhere. 

Lan Xichen pokes his head out of a cabinet. “Oh! You’re early today.”

“Yes, Coach.” Jin Ling throws his backpack into a chair. “Uncle said we had to.”

Jiang Cheng flushes. “I, ah. I have work.”

Lan Xichen nods—and then he steps out fully from behind the cabinets and Jiang Cheng has to close his eyes for a moment. Nobody should look that good in an apron and sweatshirt. He even has the sleeves pushed up, baring muscular forearms, showcasing elegant fingers and a cute little friendship bracelet.

Jiang Cheng’s palms are starting to sweat. He crams his hands in his pockets.

“Well,” he forces out, “a-Ling. Are we going to have another good day?”

“Yes Uncle,” Jin Ling drones. He wrinkles his nose. “As long as Lan Jingyi isn’t here.”

“Now, now.” Lan Xichen puts his hands on his hips. How did Jiang Cheng never notice how nice his hips were? “Is that any way to talk about our family?”

And it’s stupid. Our family is decidedly not Jiang Cheng’s family. He knows this, so why is his face getting red anyway?

Jin Ling peers up at him. “Uncle, you’re all sweaty.”

Oh my god. Okay. It’s definitely time to go.

“I’ll just be.. Leaving.” He points towards the door. “Um. Have a good day, Jin Ling. Lan Xichen.”

Lan Xichen smiles with all of his perfect teeth. A dimple pops on one side. “Certainly,” he says. “You too.”

Jiang Cheng is totally a goner.

He floats on that smile all day. Nothing can bring him down. Not when Zidian fakes her own death on the I-5 freeway. Not when AAA informs him there’s a waiting time of over an hour. Not when he arrives to work late, and then has to spend extra time cleaning all the bathrooms by himself. 

He has a dimple, Jiang Cheng thinks to himself. Oh god. He has a dimple.

He nearly drops his rag into the toilet.

Jiang Cheng floats on Cloud Nine all the way until he pulls into his shitty parking space and trudges up two flights to the apartment.

The living room light is on.

“Wei Wuxian?” He locks the door, toeing off his sneakers. “What are you doing awake?”

His adoptive brother should be asleep by now. Not that he follows a schedule—even with work, Wei Wuxian’s proclivities for late-night reality TV is well-documented—but it’s a Tuesday night, and Wei Wuxian usually opens Wednesdays and Fridays.

Wei Wuxian looks up from the table. “Oh, hey. Just..” He waves a hand. “Making a playlist.”

“At midnight? Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

His brother blows a raspberry. “It’s for somebody. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Don’t you have, like, two friends?”

Jiang Cheng has one. It’s his brother. “So? Can’t you make that in the morning?”

“But I told Lan Zhan I’d have it done tomorrow.” Wei Wuxian sighs, twirling a lock of hair around one finger. 

There’s leftover pizza in the fridge. Jiang Cheng doesn’t even bother with a plate. “Lan Zhan?” 

Wei Wuxian has the audacity to blush. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he mutters, which means Jiang Cheng should absolutely worry about it. But then: “Here’s Ling-er’s report from today.”

Jiang Cheng swoops to snatch it from his fingers. All smiley-faces again. Whatever black magic Lan Xichen has at his disposal, he’s doing some serious legwork with it. Jin Ling never gets along well with other kids.

Another wonderful day, he’s written at the bottom. How lucky for Jin Ling to have such a good role model! There’s a little waving stickman next to his name.

“So,” Wei Wuxian says. “Coach Lan Xichen, huh?”

Jiang Cheng gives him a look over the paper that would kill small birds. “Don’t.”

“What? I didn’t even say anything!”

“Yeah. Yet.”

“You’re such a sourpuss,” Wei Wuxian complains. “No wonder you never get any dates. Your aura repels people from a mile away.”

“What does this have to do with getting dates?” Jiang Cheng can see the gears turning in Wei Wuxian’s brain—no, they’ve already been turning. He just happened to walk in right at the end. “Wei Wuxian—”

“Jiang Cheng,” his brother mimics. “I think it’s time we try again.”

“‘We?’ There is no we in this! And I’m not going on any dates!” He crinkles the paper in his irritation and pauses to smooth it out again. “You’re delusional.”

“And you have a crush on the hot YMCA supervisor,” Wei Wuxian sing-songs. 

“Do not!”

“Do too.” Wei Wuxian leans in, eyebrows waggling. “Come on. I would too, if I were you. Thank goodness I’m not, though—you’re bound to get premature grey hairs.”

Jiang Cheng’s eye twitches. “Do. Not. Meddle.”

“So you admit there’s something to meddle with?”

“Don’t you have a playlist to make?”

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. “I’m almost done! Don’t change the subject.” He leans in. “Picture this: you. Mr. Hunky Coach Man. On a date.” He pauses, considering. “A good date.”

“I don’t want to picture anything,” Jiang Cheng says. It’s a lie. He’s already picturing them on their second date. And their third. And when they adopt a dog together after he moves in.

“Uh-huh.” Wei Wuxian wags a finger. “I know you. If I don’t help out, you’ll be a sad, lonely hermit for the rest of your life! Come on, a-Cheng. When was the last time you went on a date? A year ago? Two years ago?”

Jiang Cheng knows when it was. A cold rush of something bitter seethes below his skin, poisoning his already-failing mood. He drops his pizza on the table. He’s not hungry anymore.

“Try five,” he snaps. “Some of us have bigger problems, you inconsiderate twat.”

He sees Wei Wuxian do the math. The way his eyebrows raise, and then fall. His lips part in a silent o, but for once, he has nothing to say. Jiang Cheng wishes he could call it a victory.

“I..” Wei Wuxian swallows. “I didn’t—”

“No, you didn’t,” Jiang Cheng snaps. “It’s all just a big, fucking game to you, is that it? My life isn’t one of your TV shows! At least one of us has to take care of Jin Ling, and if it has to be me then I’m fine with it. I don’t need you giving me shit while you’re off making playlists for random pieces of ass!”

“Lan Zhan is not a piece of ass!” Wei Wuxian snaps. He stands, lips twisting. “Just because one of us knows when to move on—”

“Move on? Move on?” Jiang Cheng lunges over the table and shakes him. “How can you fucking say that? Are you listening to yourself?” He sucks in a sharp breath and lets go. “Forget it. I’m going to bed.”

“Jiang Cheng, wait—”

He slams his bedroom door.

The next morning is rough. Jiang Cheng hardly slept. His eyes feel like someone’s kicked a whole sandbox into them. His body aches more than when Jin Ling accidentally gave him the flu. He almost wishes he were sick. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to leave his bedroom ever again.

But no. It’s a Wednesday, so there’s still a-Ling’s summer camp to go to.

“Uncle, you look bad,” his nephew tells him plaintively. 

Jiang Cheng squints over his cup of coffee. Jin Ling blinks up from his bowl of Cheerio’s, the picture of seven-year-old innocence. 

“Thanks,” he deadpans.

At least Wei Wuxian already went to work. There’s no morning awkwardness to deal with, no avoidance tactics Jiang Cheng has to employ. It’s just him and his nephew, alone in the apartment at 8AM. 

Jiang Cheng looks at Jin Ling—really looks at him. He’s grown a ton over the past year, shooting out of all of his pants. His hair is getting a little long; Wei Wuxian will have to give him a trim soon. 

Every day he looks more and more like his mother.

Jiang Cheng wonders what Jiejie would think if she could see him today. Would she be happy with the way they’ve raised her son? Would she scorn them for living like this? What would she do in this situation?

A-Cheng. I know you’re not good with words, but you have to apologize.

For what? I didn’t do anything wrong!

Maybe not. But isn’t it best to mend the bridge before it breaks?

His fingers curl tighter around his coffee mug. 

“Come on, a-Ling,” he says. “It’s time to get dressed for camp.”

☁️

It’s Pool Day. 

It’s Pool Day and nobody warned Jiang Cheng about it being Pool Day, because what happens on Pool Day but the most beautiful man on Earth walking around in tight swim trunks and a tank-top? With sunglasses? 

His long hair is twisted into a messy bun. His arms are defined enough to make a sculptor weep. And his collarbones— 

Jiang Cheng likes to think he isn’t a weak man, but sometimes? There are exceptions.

“Coach!” Jin Ling shrieks. “Look at my swim trunks!” 

They’re bright yellow with little elephants. Lan Xichen beams.

“They suit you,” he says. “Very bright. Just like you!”

Jin Ling smiles wide enough to practically close his eyes. He tosses his backpack aside and immediately makes for the group of kids in the warm-up zone. In a moment, he’s merged into their group entirely.

It makes Jiang Cheng proud. He doesn’t know what Lan Xichen’s done to improve his nephew’s behavior, but it makes Jiang Cheng hopeful for second grade. He wants Jin Ling to grow up surrounded by love, by friends and affection. Seeing him do warm-up stretches with the other kids gives Jiang Cheng light.

Lan Xichen turns the loveliest shade of pink when Jiang Cheng tells him this. He even blushes all the way down his chest. Jiang Cheng is utterly delighted.

“I’m just doing my best,” Lan Xichen says. His honesty warms Jiang Cheng all the way to his toes. “I want them to feel like they’re really part of a family.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng breathes. He follows Lan Xichen’s gaze to the group of laughing, smiling children. “I know what you mean.”

[staticscreenwriting]

HC for Billy would handle y/n being pregnant?

So this is more of a little blurb about what happens after (Y/N) tells Billy she’s pregnant. This just flowed real well but if you want another one talking about Billy during (Y/N)’s pregnancy let me know. Also, once again not spellchecked ! Until then, enjoy :

_________

Rain is poruing down from the heavens, as chief Hopper sits by the counter of the diner, his coffee long gone lukewarm and resting forgotten before him.

His eyes are trained on the boy in the corner booth. He’s been sitting there for hours, just slowly sipping on a glass of coke and smoking one cigarette after another, like a goddamn chimney.

He knows the boy, knows of the boy. There’s been a few complaints about his reckless driving and then there’s — complaints about yelling and crying coming from the house. Hopper has had the pleasure of getting to know Neil Hargrove when he decided to investigate yet another complaint about screaming and banging coming from the household.

The wife, of course, said it was just a misunderstanding that things were — just fine. They always say that. She smiled at Hopp and he could tell it was forced. They always smile. But there was nothing he could do then other than throw a stern look at Neil and tell him to keep it down. Knowing that there’s two kids in this home makes him feel uneasy, makes him feel a rage burning in his stomach.

“ Maggie, what’s with the kid ? “ he asks the waitress of the diner as she passes him, pouring him another drop of (hot) coffee.

“ Don’t ask me, usually coems around with his girlfriend. Think something might’ve happened he looks real down in the dumps. “

Hopper nods as she walks away, takes one sip of coffee, then pushes away from the counter and walks over to Billy. He plops down on the red plastic cushions of the booth, that’s bursting at ever seam.

Billy glances up at him and Hopper can just make out a fainting hue of blue and red and purple around the boy’s right eye.

“ Can I help you ? “ Billy groans.

“ Can I help you ? “

Billy shakes his head “ don’t think so. “

Hopper prides himself with being a good cop, what he has a problem with though, is talking. It’s getting people to talk. Showing empathy. It’s not that he doesn’t care. Lord knows he does, he just doesn’t know how to start, how to word his worries.

“ Maybe uh — maybe tell me what’s wrong and we’ll see if I can help “ Hopper starts and he knows, this doesn’t work on a teen but it’s always worth a try, right ?

“ How about you mind you own business, old man ? “

This, he can deal with. Teenagers being snappy? No big deal.

“ Disrespecting authority ? thin ice kid. “

Billy even has the audacity to chuckle. Hopper likes the kid, he know he shouldn’t with all his reckless driving and property damage and shit, he does anyway.

“ Hargrove, I know shit at home isn’t easy. If you tell me, I can help “

Billy looks up almost in shock, then averts his gaze again. Hopper knows he’s not gonna talk. They hardly ever do.

The kid takes a last drag of his cigarette then immediately fumbles another one from the pack stuffed into the pocket of his denim jacket.

“ That’s a bad vice to have. Shit’s gonna kill you eventually. “ The words sound hyporitical coming from Hopp of all people. He swears he’s heard someone say them to him before.

“ Yeah well can’t do it at home anymore. “ It’s a vague answer but at least the kid is talking.

“ Why’s that? “

Billy just takes another drag then shakes his head. He’s not gonna talk.

“ Alright well If you need anything I’ll be over by the counter, still gotta finish my coffee “

He gets a mere 2 steps away before Billy speaks up again “ You got a kid, right ? “

Hopper’s family history is — complicated. But he’s not gonna get into that with Billy right now so he just nods and slides back into the booth “ yeah, a daughter. Why ? “

Billy takes a sip from his coke and stubs the cigarette out in the ashtray. “ How did you — react like, when you knew you were gonan be a “ he gulps “ a dad”.

With El things were different so Hopp tries to think back to when he first hear about Sarah. When his wife told him they were gonna have a baby.

“ I was terrified” 

The boy nods “ yeah. “ 

It’s then when it suddenly clicks for Hopper “ Is this about your girlfriend ? “ 

There’s a smile pulling at Billy’s lips though it’s not a happy smile. It’s one that says “It’s ironic isn’t it ?! “ 

“ She told me this morning and I just left. Bolted outta there like a huge fucking asshole. But what else can you expect from me ? How am I supposed to raise a kid ? I never had a dad to look up to. God I can’t end up like him. I can’t do that to them. I love them. “ 

Them. The girl and the baby.

“ Let me tell you something, Billy. That fear of fucking up ? That’s never gonna go away. And you will fuck up at some point. You’ll do or say the wrong thing once or twice or twenty times. Good thing is kids are forgiving. And the fact that you care so much already, that you care about fucking up. That shows me you’re not gonna be like your dad. “ 

Billy looks up and for the first time he looks like the scared teenage boy he is. Soft eyes and fear instead of sharp edges and scowls.

“ What if I do ? “ 

“ You won’t. Would that girl be with you if she thought so ?  “ 

“ Probably not “

“ You can’t let your parents faults define you as a person. You as a father. Step up and be the best dad you possibly can be. It’s what I try to do. “ 

“ How’s that working ? “ 

Hopp shrugs “ She only hates me sometimes and still watches Miami Vice with me every time it’s on. “ 

Billy takes another sip then reaches into his jacket and places a piece of paper and some bundle of fabric on the table.

“ That’s my kid “ he says and holds the picture out to Hopp. “ I know it’s just a grey blob and you can’t see shit but, that’s my kid “

His voice is filled with unshead tears. Hopper thinks this boy probably hasn’t had anyone else to tell the news to. No one who’d be happy for him at least. No support. So he smiles at him and Billy ? Billy smiles back.

“ What’s that ? “ 

Billy takes the bundle and unfolds it. It’s a tiny onesie that says “ I was born to rock out to Metallica with my dad” and Hopper can’t suppress a laugh.

“ Saw this while driving around. Had to get it. “ 

There’s a radiance about Billy now, a glow that seems all consuming when he’s talking about the baby. His baby. Hopper knows that whatever happens Billy is not gonna be like Neil. He’s gonna do good. Hopper thinks Billy should know this.

“ Hey Hargrove? “ 

“ Hmm ? “

“ You’re doing good “ 

Billy looks back down to the sonogram picture and nods “ I hope so “ and he smiles.

[knives-out20]

Magnetic Pull - Erik Lehnsherr x Male!OC - Part 4

Fandom: X-Men: First Class (2011)

Pairing: Karmel Rosenstein (OC) x Erik Lehnsherr

Warnings: Spoilers for X-Men: First Class, Swearing, Internalized homophobia,

Notes: Welcome to Part 4! I really hope you guys are enjoying the series so far.

The following morning, Karmel found himself outside a covert CIA research base with the people he had only become acquainted with the previous day. He looked at the front of the building from inside Moira's car, ignoring the thoughts brewing inside his mind with Erik sitting so closely beside him. Karmel opened the door and got out, leaving it open for Erik, who nodded at him. He spared Erik a quick smile, hands balling into fists because he hated how he was getting so worked up over a man. Karmel stood between Charles and Erik glancing over at the latter.

"Welcome to my facility" the agent spoke."My mission has been to investigate the application of the paranormal powers in military defense" he explained, leading the way towards the front door. 

Erik lagged behind, Karmel doing so as well but trying to stay discreet about it, like he would when chewing gum on the job."Or offense.”

"Or offense" Karmel and Erik spoke in unison, looking at each other after it happened.

Charles raised his eyebrows, turning away to let them have their moment.

"Karmel, correct?"

"Yea. You're Erik, right?" Karmel asked, as if he didn't already know. He happened to have spent the past night beating himself up over the strange feelings and thoughts he received when Erik came to mind. 

Erik nodded.

”I, uh, I like your leather jacket” Karmel complimented.”I have a black one kinda like it.”

”I know, you’re wearing it” Erik pointed out.

Karmel looked down at it; he was indeed wearing the same black leather jacket from the day before.”So I am” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed for forgetting.

Erik turned away.

"This guy Shaw, Schmidt, whatever you wanna call him, he's working with the Russians. We might need your help to stop him."

"Marvelous" Charles commented, looking around."So we're to be the CIA's new mutant division, yes?"

The agent paused."Something like that."

They group was led inside the building, into a huge room and in front of an on-display plane of some sort. There, they met a young worker with small glasses and a thin-built frame.

"It's a supersonic" the worker clarified, as Karmel stood between Erik and Raven."The most advanced plane ever built. You should see it in real life, it's incredible."

"Hank, these are the special recruits I was telling you about" the agent introduced, gesturing to the mutants at his side."This is Hank McCoy, one of our most talented young researchers."

Karmel instinctively crossed his arms, nodding in greeting.

"How wonderful," Charles smiled, quick to approach Hank and shake his hand."Another mutant, already here, why didn't you say?" He asked, turning to the agent, unaware of the faltering smile on Hank's face.

Karmel noticed."Shit..." He breathed.

"Say what?" The agent looked confused.

That's when the light bulb in Charles' mind turned on."Because you don't know-" he shakily breathed, turning back to Hank."I am so, so terribly sorry" Charles apologized, gaze going soft.

Hank shook his head shyly.

The agent approached him slowly."Hank?" He called.

"You didn't ask, so I didn't tell."

"So your mutation is what?" Raven piped up, coming forward, "you're super smart?"

"I'll say. Hank here graduated Harvard at the age of fifteen" Charles hummed.

"I wish that's all it was" Hank muttered, Karmel leaning back where he stood as everyone, except for Erik and himself, crowded around Hank.

Erik nudged him."Karmel."

Karmel instantly looked over."Yea-?" He answered a little too quickly. Karmel cleared his throat, shifting a bit."Hmm?" He hummed instead, arms still crossed."Calm down, you're a man, he's a man. These feelings don't exist" Karmel thought to himself, wondering why Charles glanced over at him.

"Thank you for your mutation last night. Being pressed up against a stranger while soaking wet...wasn't pleasant, but I can’t really think of any easier way we could've gotten out of the water there" Erik spoke, looking Karmel up and down.

Karmel shrugged, fighting back a blush and a smile."I was simply doing what Charles told me to. But..." he went to fix his tie, "no problem, Erik."

"You can control them quite well."

"If you're who whipped those chain-links yesterday, I gotta say the same about you" Karmel chuckled, turning back over to him. He repeated his earlier thoughts, reminding himself that Erik was simply being nice: nothing more.

"You Jewish?"

"That obvious?"

Erik shrugged."Many Jews I know happen to have surnames ending in '-stein'. A trend of some sort."

Karmel chuckled."Guilty, I guess. How 'bout you?" He asked, noticing when Erik tensed."If- If you don't wanna answer that, that's fine-" Karmel told.

"No, it's just..." He sighed and glanced at his wrist, "being Jewish hasn't landed me anywhere nice in the past."

"I could say the same on my parents' behalf. I'm not a fan of rocks" Karmel turned away.

Erik looked over at Karmel, eyebrows furrowing. He decided against further questioning, attention back on the group gawking over Hank's feet mutation.

Hank jumped up, his big feet gripping onto a wing of the plane.

Karmel pushed himself off of the railing, following Erik's slow steps over to further inspect Hank's mutation.

"Ta-da" Hank sheepishly told, as Raven approached him.

"Jeez..." Karmel breathed.

"I know" Erik agreed, hand accidentally brushing against Karmel's.

"Sorry-"

"My mistake" Erik glanced down, though neither of them stepped away from the other.

***

That night, Karmel stood at the front entrance of the base. He leaned against the wall, taking swig after sip of a bottle of gin. Karmel felt he was in dire need of a moment alone with the cool winds...and a bottle of gin, his favourite alcohol. He did not expect to hear the front doors open, nor did he expect to see Erik rush passed, carrying a suitcase. Karmel wiped his mouth on his sleeve, pushing himself off the wall and stepping onto the pavement."From what I know about you, I'm surprised you've managed to stay this fucking long" he spoke, Erik freezing in his tracks.

Erik slowly turned around, Karmel taking another cool step towards him."What do you know about me?" He asked."Are you drinking-?" Erik then asked, squinting.

"Yea. Gin's my favourite. It also calms me down." Karmel closed his eyes, repressing down the ways Erik's voice made him feel. He took a sip of his gin."Everything Charles had the audacity to tell me...for some reason" Karmel hummed in thought, shaking his head to regain his attention on the- devastatingly- good-looking mutant.

"Then you and him would know to stay out of my head."

"Oh, no, Charles does all the mind games, that lil’ fucker. The extent of my powers are these bad boys" Karmel corrected, slowly raising a hand. 

Vines emerged from the bushes, one wrapping around his gin bottle to hold it, another vine twisting the cap back on. 

Karmel grinned for a moment, eyebrows raised proudly. He glanced down at the suitcase.

Erik looked at them, turning back around to continue walking away from the base.

"I'm sorry, Erik, but Charles informed me that he knows what Shaw did to you" Karmel slightly outstretched an arm, as if reaching out to stop him; but he was too far away. He couldn't bring himself to make his vines grab Erik and physically stop him, for them to wrap around him and hold him like a doll. Karmel took the advantage of Erik stopping to walk a few more steps towards him. He stuffed his hands into his pockets of his leather jacket."He felt your agony, and needed me to fish you guys out of the water. He can help you- we, can help you. Each other, too" Karmel planted most of his weight onto his hind leg, not complaining about the view he had from behind Erik. But, he was sure to cuss himself out for feeling like this, later.

Erik stayed silent, and didn't even move. He then huffed, turning to face Karmel."I don't need Charles' help.”

"Beware, it goeth before the fall, Erik. And Charles' help, sure, but you'll probably want mine. When was the last time you interacted with a Jewish man of your kind, with, I'm assuming, similar morals?" Karmel questioned, looking around at the vines bobbing behind him."You think I’m all for Charlie’s sunshine-rainbows co-existing fantasy?” He scoffed.”If you don’t want his help, you’ll at least want mine.”

“I don’t need your help, either.”

“Don't kid yourself, Erik, you very well needed my fucking help in the waters last night, you even thanked me for it, earlier." Karmel felt himself grow heated with the way Erik was looking at him, and hated it."You're men" he thought, "fucking control yourself."

Erik didn't answer, looking down in thought.

"That's what I thought" Karmel chuckled."It's not just Charles you're walking away from. Not just me either, Erik" he advanced towards Erik."Charles told me that here, you have the chance to become something much bigger than yourself" Karmel explained, stopping again.”As dim-witted as it sounds, I’m as in as I can be Especially if it’s with you- with- with someone like me.”

Erik blinked.”I always thought I was alone” he confessed.

"You’re not alone, Erik.” Karmel shook his head, a certain sureness in his blue eyes that shone despite the night sky dimming their surroundings.”You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone again.”

Silence followed, until Karmel spoke up once more.

“I won't stop you from leaving" Karmel's heart hurt as he said that, viciously grabbing the gin bottle and opening it. He took a much-needed chug, since he desperately wanted to stop Erik from leaving, but refused to acknowledge why."Believe me on that. I know what it's like to be forced to do something you don't wanna do. I know what it's like to hide something you don't wanna hide. I know what it's like to be angry, and not in control, Erik. But, still..." Karmel took another sip."I won't stop you from leaving. Physically, with my vines, I could. I also want to, really” he blinked his gaze away, looking down sadly.

Erik kept staring at him, gears slowly turning in his head.

“Charles stopped me, but I don’t fucking know if he was in my head controllin’ me while doing it or not. See those footprints?” Karmel asked, pointing over at a bush he was standing beside, just about an hour ago. He remembers, word-for-word, everything Charles and him said to each other in that hour, when Karmel was sure he was set on getting outta there and going back home to his mansion. Getting Erik out of his head, and these despicable (to Karmel) thoughts about him.

Erik turned his head, seeing semi-fresh footprints in the mud. He looked back over at Karmel, at the bits of dirt visible on his shoes.

Karmel looked down at his shoes.”But I won’t stop you.” He slowly started to walk backwards."Think about if you want me to be the only mutant to show the world what Jewish people are really made of" he called, waving his bottle of gin."Shaw has got friends. You could do with some, as far as I can tell. Friends of your own kind, even" Karmel forced himself to turn back around, vines retreating from back where they came from."Don't tame your demons, Erik: always keep them on a leash."

Erik watched him go, the two Jewish mutants blissfully unaware of the fact that Charles listened to- and watched- the whole thing from a window of the base.

Charles smiled softly at Karmel walking back into the building, smile growing when he saw Erik walk in pretty soon after.