#the fact that he plays air guitar while trying on his clothes to see how they will feel/look on stage 🥰🥰🥹🫶🏽

[nicoscheer]

The reel

Well I was NOT prepared for that

[chosos-mascara]

omg any choso fluff would do for me but, could you write a little something about him and reader going into a photo booth! i think that could be really cute, with all the poses and then getting to keep the pictures at end 🤭 i think choso would really like that

it took a while for choso to ask you out. weeks, if you were to be specific.

he wasn’t a regular to the small record store you worked in - you’d learn months later that in fact, it was an inconvenience to get to. a bus ride into the centre of town and then a twenty-or-so-minute walk had deterred him from venturing so far before, but when holed up on that side of town searching for a certain album, he found you.

a customer assistant. not a glamorous title, but god were you perfect. when he got talking to you, he realised you weren’t just cute but smart too, and not only that, you happened to know the artist he was looking for. out of stock, but it could be ordered in just for him if he’d return in a few days.

and, he did. not just for his album, but to see you again. the next visit he’d no excuse to travel so far when there were stores closer to him by miles, but he made the journey once again, and again, until you knew him by name. he’s wasted a stupid amount of money over the past two months on bus fayre and albums he didn’t need just for an excuse to see you again. the tenth or so visit, he asked you out: “there’s this local arcade that also serves drinks, if you’d like that.”

all night you’ve been playing with him, air hockey, racing games, guitar hero and some retro ones too. he’d passed up on the dance mat due to his clothing choice (he’s scared his hair would look a state, and his jewellery would likely make the ordeal uncomfortable) until you’d found yourself with a few coins left, and a photo booth in front of you.

“should we?” you ask him through an anxious grin - you think it’s the perfect way to commemorate the night, though you’re awfully worried he won’t feel the same way. your fears are eased when he breaks a small smile and gestures forward. you’re grinning as you step into the booth, sitting in the edge of the stool.

“there’s only one seat?” he asks, and you find yourself heating up a little when he watches you scooting up toward the booth wall.

“we can share?” you leave it up to him but you’re glad when he accepts, half of the small metal seat now occupied by him. he’s pretty squashed against you, his arm almost opening the curtain through the lack of space, his body tensing up from feeling you against him.

your heart is racing too because after all of this time crushing over him he’s so close, and so comfortable at your side. choso’s thigh is pressed on yours, his right arm on your left, and you’re trying not to focus on how amazing he feels pushed up onto you while you’re picking a template.

you decide on a string of four photos, a black and white filter over them.

you’re not sure how to pose for the first one, so there’s a some blur. both of you look a little awkward.

with the second, you remember there’ll be a three second countdown, and you use that time to put your head onto his shoulder. you’re shocked when he leans into you, and the flash goes to capture you in this moment.

for the third photo, you’re unsure, and a little late to decide as it captures the two of you face to face, a look of endearment as you’re staring into his eyes, wondering what he’s thinking.

you realise now, his breath is warm on your skin. you’re so close, so awfully close, and his eyes are lowering until you’re sure they rest on your lips.

he leans before you do, though you’re not far behind.

the fourth photo is captured when his mouth meets yours, but you won’t need a picture to remember exactly how this feels. you’re sure you’ll live in this forever, because this moment lasts so long with his lips over yours, a drawn out and heartfelt kiss filled with affection.

you pull back smiling, and he’s shyly matching your lovesick expression.

that little print out is under a magnet on your fridge two years later, in a home you share.

[dumbangrypuppet]

O Light

CHAPTER TWO: My Love, Mine, All Mine

A/N: this one's kinda short because I'm exhausted, I promise they'll get longer when I figure out what I'm doing.

Kake had showered, changed his clothes again, and sat comfortably on his couch. The rock record from Marceline was still playing on loop. At this point he was able to decipher the lyrics without even fully listening. The light in the house was dim, as it was lit up with small strings of warm lights. He kept it like this at night time. It felt comfortable. Not too bright, not too dark. Just right.

He was still freezing, having himself huddled up under a blanket. Waiting for Simon to call, or a knock on his door. He felt terrible for making his friend worry. Kake wasn't someone that needed to be worried about, Kake was supposed to be fine. After all, he hasn't had it bad. He had his art studio, he had friends (albeit, he didn't see them often because he figured they were always busy, and he didn't wanna bother them), he had built a nice life for himself in the past 12 years.

A knock on the door pulled Kake out of his thoughts. Simon must be here. Had Kake been sitting there with his own thoughts for that long??

He rises to open the door for Simon, trying to hide the fact that he was a mess. That his house was a mess. Everything was normally spick and span as to create less stress, but here everything was, looking disheveled and thrown about.

Kake is quick to make up an excuse "I was..meaning to rearrange..."

Simon tsks. "Not sleeping for an extended period of time can heighten your anxiety, and your depressive feelings." Simon may not be a doctor, but he can speak from his own experience.

Kake laughed nervously. "Alright then, Dr. Petrikov."

Simon seemed a little tense for the moment, but relaxed afterwards. Slung over his shoulder was a bag full of stuff to make food with. He had figured since Kake hadn't left the house in a few days, and he was awake and stressed, that he probably didn't have any fresh food ingredients for himself to use.

Simon makes his way into the kitchen, carefully placing the bag on the counter and sifting through it. Simon was never the best cook, but he was gonna try for his friend, damn it. Simon was grateful that despite the rest of Kake's house being a mess, the kitchen seemed to be clean. He hoped it was just because Kake couldn't ever stand cooking in a filthy environment or never having clean dishes, instead of the other option. (Being that Kake hasn't eaten in 3 days, in which case, Simon would have a serious talk with his emotional support roach)

Kake turns off the record player, since now he has company. Plus, he knows Simon likes.. classical music or soft guitar more than metal or rock. (Of course though, Simon is always there to support Marceline at her concerts.)

Kake wishes he had more records to play, but apparently, records have long been outdated since the mushroom war had destroyed almost everything of the world before.

He wonders what the war was like...maybe it could help with the nightmare he had.

Kake watches Simon as he cooks, not daring to disturb him while he's in the zone. (You gotta let him cook yk?) Instead, Kake looks for any other source he can use to play music. It's too silent, he thinks. The air is thick with tension that Kake can't seem to recognize, but it makes him feel terrible and he wants to fix it. He's worried that Simon is upset about having to be here.

On the contrary, the tension is not coming from a place of anger, but of concern. Simon wants to help Kake, just as Kake has helped him and many others. But he's afraid of pushing Kake's boundaries. So for now, he will help Kake in the only other way Simon knows how. By taking care of him while he's low.

Kake finally finds another means of music, a CD that he places in his radio. A song he didn't recognize, and didn't even know where he had got the CD. Maybe it was one he received as a gift from someone, or something he received as payment for his art.

Moon, a hole of light

Through the big top tent up high

Here before and after me

Shinin' down on me

Moon, tell me if I could

Send up my heart to you?

So, when I die, which I must do

Could it shine down here with you?

Kake seems to find himself lost in the song as he listens intently. He's gonna have to figure out who gave him this CD because, wow, this is making him feel something.

He doesn't recognize the feeling. Longing? Sorrow?? All he knows is it makes his heart hurt in some type of way. A way that's painful, but you can't stop because the song is just. So heartfelt.

Simon eventually exits the kitchen, making food like he had promised, along with a mug of hot chocolate for Kake. Kake hums in acknowledgement as a thank you.

"Now, are you going to tell me what's going on?" Simon inquired. His tone was not angry or anything of the sort. It was full of concern for his friend.

Kake took a sip of his hot chocolate, and gave a weak smile. "I've been...dealing with nightmares. And the...same fear of 'falling asleep and not waking up' situation. It's nothing really new..." Kake held the mug between two of his hands, appreciating the warmth. "I'm sorry you came all the way out here for a stupid reason. Heh.." Kake avoided Simon's gaze, instead staring into his hot chocolate.

"Kake, it's not stupid if you're being bothered by something, especially if it's making you stay awake for three whole days." Simon reasoned. "And I have no problem with coming here to help you sort it out. You're my friend, and you've done the same for me numerous times."

Kake hummed in response. He has, and he would help Simon unconditionally with anything. But Kake wasn't so sure he was worthy of the same treatment. But still he wore a smile. "I'm sorry I worried you. The more I think about the dream...it's sort of silly. Running away from green oozing monsters and-...being locked up somewhere essentially...I don't even remember all the details. It just...hurt in a way."

Kake wasn't sure how to continue the conversation, so he sat and listened to his music with a small smile. Kake's empty white eyes were focused on his hot chocolate. He took another sip, and turned to Simon.

"Thank you. Really. ...You didn't have to. But you did anyway."

"Of course I had to, Kake. You're my best friend. I'm not gonna let you suffer in silence."

Kake gave a larger smile to Simon, appreciative of his words.

The two sit together in the studio, drinking hot chocolate and talking for many hours through the night. After some coaxing Simon is able to convince Kake to fall asleep, with the promise that he'll be sure to wake him up in the morning. He's not gonna let one of his only pals fall into an eternal sleep again, you know?

Kake takes the couch, and allows Simon to take his bedroom (although Kake had other spare rooms, they weren't fit to stay in at the moment. They were currently filled with art supplies and no furniture to rest on.)

Kake was able to sleep peacefully, even if it was just one night. Surrounded by the warmth and company of his friend.

[collisiondiscourse]

BKDK - Highschool Romantics Headcanons

LOVE ME some good old fashioned highschool romance shenanigans so as per my brand, lets make it bkdk!! bc tbh i havent made a hc list in a while

its second year highschool! things have calmed down significantly and for class 1-A this means that its time to celebrate their teenage years like they werent able to before

this means more movie nights--more days they get to spend having fun and being regular kids like they shouldve always been

meanwhile bkdk? after confessions and apologies made on bloody battlefields and quiet hospitals at the dead of night... its almost comical how cheesy they are

deku sneaks up on kacchan during lunchbreaks, dragging him to the training fields where he serenades him with a guitar and laughs as a small crowd of their schoolmates whoop in glee

he sings songs of youthful love and friendship, awkward voice smoothing into something beautiful and charming

in return, katsuki learns new songs. he learns to draw and to play the drums even better--living for that shocked little smile when he draws doodles of deku and dedicates especially sappy songs to him during their monthly school jamming session

they arent together at this point, technically. no one knows what they are. no one can begin to label what they have either.

but its definitely good.

its bright and its beautiful and its loud, so theyll protect it with their eyes wide open but in the meantime class 1A just sits back and watches the twin stars of UA unravel like leaves in the cool mornings of fall

they go everywhere together, always holding hands. bakugou and deku have promise rings, little matching all might insignias glinting in the sun

they won those in an arcade somewhere. no one knows what the promise is, and no one really bothers to ask

katsuki really likes lending izuku his jackets. its nothing he says outright, just the fact that he's always ready—always one arm out of its sleeve—to bundle his sweaters and drop it into the lap of the unsuspecting nerd.

"geez, is it just me or is it really co—" *flop*

sometimes kirishima worries about his best friends allowance at the rate in which he has to replace all his jackets

they brawl in the hallways, rough house on the train station, cuddle when its cold and the common room is filled with people and light

deku often likes to surprise katsuki with little gifts. he sneaks spicy candies into the other boy's backpack between classes, slips giftcards and notes of appreciation between the pages of katsuki's textbooks

in return, as he does with everything, katsuki goes big. sometimes he surprises deku with a giant teddy bear, or soft hoodies that remind him of the other. he'll get the whole bakusquad in on it and fill the hallways in the morning with encouraging yells and loud boisterous laughter

sometimes, obviously, they'll still mess up. They're still teenagers, still human.

Deku will sometimes not say things that he should and Kacchan will sometimes say things he doesn't mean.

they'll fight and yell and unsettle the dorms with how charged the air becomes. sometimes Aizawa's worried they'll go back to ground beta and increase the hero course's already abysmal annual repair budget again like they used to do when they were stressed and repressed and each other obsessed

but then bakugou will sneak into dekus balcony at the dead of night, like some sort of delinquent trying to visit their goody two shoes lover at the risk of running into their shotgun father

(which in this case, bakugou supposes, would be uraraka--the metaphorical shotgun being a very tired todoroki)

and he'll knock on the window gently, trying not to smile as izuku opens the window and rubs the sleep from his eyes.

"ka... cchan?"

katsuki lets himself smirk at last and tells deku theyre sneaking out.

phrases it like a taboo secret, even as aizawa watches from the security footage room exasperated but also kind of relieved because of all things his class has gone through, a little midnight tryst is the least dangerous of them all. its not even close to the biggest secret deku's ever had, and by god he has plenty.

but he stifles his giggles into the palm of his hand and watches as bakugou precariously sits on the metal railing, clothes a mess and leaves still stuck in his hair

"Our little secret, okay?" Kacchan jokes, red eyes glimmering with something raw and perfect. "Don't tell your dad about me."

Izuku rolls his eyes and reminds him that All Might isn't actually his father, god Kacchan! You've met my real dad!

Yet still, he lets it pass.

And then, oh so carefully yet recklessly as if they weren't the most powerful duo of their generation, katsuki reaches out and slips deku's hands in his and takes him away

takes him to a beach (Dagobah, because of course it is) in the middle of the night, the stars brighter than theyve ever been because everything looks different when youre young and in love

they lay in the sand and listen to the waves and some weird beat thats been stuck in Izuku's head. Bakugou turns to watch his eyelashes flutter against freckled cheeks and holds out a pinky.

"I'm sorry. By the way. I didn't mean what I said and I want you to be happy."

Izuku hums and they talk it out. Eventually the other boy holds his pinky out too and they link together like pieces of a puzzle.

Under the stars, the two of them make a million promises. Promises that they know they'll break, promises that they know they won't, promises that leave them uncertain and guessing.

"—but you promise, though. Right? You promise that we'll still be by each other? Us against the world forever and ever even after this. Even when we grow old?"

Their pinkies stay linked together and the two boys know for sure that it's one of those highschool promises that they will keep forever.

Deku stares into pretty red eyes that remind him of juicy apples and warm bonfires beside friends who never run out of stories to tell

Katsuki stares back into clear green eyes that remind him of calming tea and lush grass he lays down on in the familiar heat of a summer afternoon

they just. stare. stare and stare and stare and maybe, they begin to think

maybe in those eyes, i can see our future.

and its good.

its really really good.

[3wisellamas]

Giant Sweet Cap’n Cakes Headcanon Masterpost!

(Fun fact, I thought most of these up while on one REALLY long hike.  ^^;  You can tell I fell for these three pretty hard.)

Music:

-I like the idea that, while the three all share a love of hip hop, glitch hop, electronic music in general, and a little lo-fi for chill times, they all have different tastes outside of those.  (Meaning if you pass them the aux cord, they WILL argue!)

-Sweet's actually the biggest audiophile of the group, with by far the most eclectic tastes; he will literally put together playlists that go from dubstep to heavy metal to classical to rap to vaporwave to even country.  The others don't really get it, but they're cool with whatever he puts on, and learn a lot of new music from him!

-He also owns an electric guitar, which he just plugs into himself to use as an amp and plays early in the morning to wake the others up if needed (he's the early riser and the other two are night owls...)

-Cap'n's definitely got a more narrow focus than the other two; he likes rap and also R&B, jazz, and even a little swing/electro swing.  He's also been caught more than once listening to cheesy romantic pop songs, claiming he's just into them for their potential madamoizel-attracting uses but really he's just a sappy romantic.

-He can also rap, very well in fact, and gets Sweet to beatbox while he freestyles. 

-Heck, he's just got a good singing voice in general, helped by having a built-in autotune, and dominates at karaoke!

-K_K also has a really broad range, but stays more towards the electronic end of the spectrum -- melodic dubstep, synthpop, disco, trance, chiptune, DnB, even occasionally puts on straight-up ambient spa music to chill out to (the only genre the other two will NOT tolerate.)

-K_K has also, in the past, set up entire mini-raves just by themselves, complete with glowsticks and everything, while Cap'n and Sweet were out doing whatever.  They were...not pleased, when they got back, mostly because they weren't invited.  All three got to have one together eventually though.  

-Physical media is king in their shop; if it's not on a CD, cassette tape, or a vinyl record (or an 8-track, though they have to dig out their old player for it), they will refuse to play it, and might even ask you to leave.  "MP3" is an extremely dirty word to them.

-(In fact, they don't get along too well with the MP3 player-headed robots elsewhere in the city.)

-They are indeed always listening to music on physical media as well -- K_K and Cap'n are their own CD players (though Cap'n's one of those models that's also got a built-in FM radio), while Sweet has a straight-up Walkman.    

-(He's also the group's cassette champion, claiming his media of choice is superior to CDs because you can record music on BOTH sides of the tape!  The other two just don't have the heart to point out that each side only holds half as much music as a CD, and you don't even have to rewind those...)

-Jury's still out on Hit Clips.  Cap'n and Sweet think they're just toys, but K_K genuinely collects and appreciates them and treats them like actual music (it helps that they are only around four seconds long!)

-Believe it or not, the headphones are only decoration, all three actually just...listen to their music entirely within their own heads, though they can also switch to playing it externally on their speakers as well.  Perks of being robots!  Though, sometimes K_K has his internal volume up too high, and misses things that other people say because of it.

-Sweet also has an input port, and connects himself to his turntable to act as the speakers!  The other two are WAY too embarrassed to ask if they can use it as well.

-Sweet can play almost any instrument you throw at him, as long as it's not a woodwind (Surprisingly, he can do brass, since those work on vibration rather than air!).  He prefers his guitar or violin when he isn't spinning records on his turntable.  Where the other two just enjoy music, he's the actual trained musician.

Voice headcanons:

-Sweet:  Kind of deep, bass-y, lots of reverb, a slight tinny audio distortion to it like a low-quality recording that becomes much more pronounced when he gets upset or starts shouting.  And since he's a speaker, you can literally feel the vibrations he makes when he's speaking!

-Cap'n:  Scout from TF2.  I am sorry, but I absolutely cannot get that out of my head for him.  XD  However, he's actually putting that voice on as an "accent" of sorts, his real voice is actually super autotune-y like K_K's, and it comes out whenever he gets flustered, his pitch only getting higher and higher as it gets worse...

-K_K:  Pure autotune, he can just do whatever the hell he wants with his voice -- pitch, tone, whatever, and while he tends to keep it a little higher he can and does change it to fit his mood!  He often has a completely different voice every day, but the others are used to it.  He also just straight-up vocalizes sound effects (like, the kind that make you go "How did you just make that sound with your mouth?!") and can mimic other people perfectly (though the slight mechanical distortion does give it away).  There are absolutely no rules when it comes to K_K's voice.

-They harmonize perfectly whenever they sing together! 

Sweet:

-I like to think Sweet's actually the brains of the group; like, not SMART, he just holds their one collective braincell most often.  He does any technical work when they're building stuff, like soldering circuits or the occasional programming, and even handles a lot of the actual business operations and pays the bills.  The other two also like to follow his lead when it comes to rebellion plans, even if he’s not the official leader.

-That said, though?  It's balanced out by him being rather hotheaded and having the shortest temper by a lot.  There are REASONS why he's not usually out selling bagels with the others -- he's unfortunately prone to some more "extreme" sales tactics, like hurling half their stock at random passersby until they finally agree to buy some.  On the plus side, he's always the first to step up to defend the gang from anything that dares to harm them, and is always on guard.

-He can also hold a heck of a grudge -- don't ever get on his bad side!  Cap'n and K_K are mostly immune to this though, if he gets upset with them he works through it by the end of the day.  It helps that they can all hug it out.

-He's a bit of a perfectionist, often working overtime to try and get everything they build exactly right.  He can get really frustrated when things don't work out the way he plans, or when he can't make sense of a problem, or when Cap'n and K_K are goofing off instead of doing their part, and needs to go blast some loud music and blow off steam.

-He does have a really tough time keeping his balance, since his head is a bit heavier than the rest of his body, but he takes tripping over his own feet constantly in stride.  The biggest problem he has is with dancing -- while he'll join in with the others on occasion, he can't match their more acrobatic moves and sticks more to actually PLAYING the music they're dancing to.

-He's also really, really unlucky, just in general.  He actually considers the other two his good luck charms, since they help him out whenever he trips or gets into a bad spot!

-He's the fashionista of the group, surprisingly.  It's difficult for him to find clothes that fit his body, so he tends to get a little creative with it and has a whole closet full of different stuff!  And since Cap'n is roughly the same size they'll occasionally swap jackets.

Cap’n:

-Cap'n actually has managed to score a handful of dates with girls in the past!  However, NONE of them went well, and only one actually made it to the second date (only to break up right in the middle of it), so he always ends up returning home heartbroken and in tears.  Sweet and K_K, by this point just ready for it whenever they hear that he's going out that night, always dry him off before he shorts himself out, take him to bed and cuddle with him (platonically, I don't see them as brothers but I also don't see them as having that conversation until Cap'n's ready, which he clearly is NOT), remind him that it doesn't hurt forever and he isn't unlovable and that he'll find someone eventually, etc.

-They have sat him down multiple times to try and gently suggest to Cap'n that he might just not be into women?  And that he’s actually turning them off by trying so hard?  To which he's always just like "No, of course not.  I'm straight.  Love the ladies.  Totally.  Oh no they didn't catch me checkin' out that one dude earlier did they?  Is that what this is about?!"

-(Basically, Cap'n is just a hopeless romantic in love with the idea of being in love, but is absolutely clueless as to how it works or what he actually wants, and his best buds are always there to catch him when he falls.  ;v; )

-The glasses are prescription -- he's SUPER nearsighted, a hardware glitch he refuses to fix.  Sometimes when he's working on something close up he'll take them off, panicking when he can't find them afterwards, only to have the others point out that they're just on his head.  He’s also got non-tinted glasses, but you will not catch him DEAD wearing those unless it’s an absolute emergency.

-This dude is SUPREMELY insecure with himself.  Like, his rather questionable fixation on romance aside, he basically runs off of others' validation, the "cool" persona he's spent much of his life building up being how he hides the fact that he isn't really sure who he is, or what he wants to do with his life, or what he's even good for -- the others have learned to check on him now and then whenever he hides away in the back of the shop, since he can slip into some pretty dark places when left alone to sulk.  It took a long time for him to open up even to them to share his feelings, and sometimes still has doubts about whether they or anyone else really care about him as more than just The Smooth One...

-He's the only one of the three to actually enjoy the occasional silence, especially when he's trying to think, or whenever he's upset.  So, his headphones also serve a dual purpose -- they're noise-cancelling!

-He's the video guy, carrying around a small camcorder and constantly trying to record the group's activities, to put together into music videos!  He also just likes to record himself doing stupid stunts for posterity, though K_K just takes these and makes (affectionate) blooper reels.

-Cap'n is not his real name, similar to K_K.  However, unlike K_K, he refuses to say what it is, just that it's embarrassing.

K_K:

-K_K has a bad habit of just completely zoning out when he gets into his music, getting completely lost in the groove and needing to be pulled back to reality.  It's not a bad thing during jam sessions, but at work, or in the middle of a battle...not so much.

-He kind of needs to have some kind of music going at all times -- silence drives him absolutely CRAZY!  Though, because he gets distracted by his own music, he then misses out on entire conversations, only tuning back in towards the end.  Sometimes the other two have to repeat or summarize what they just said for him.

-He knows sign language, and taught the others to use it.  They're able to communicate reasonably well no matter how loud their shop gets, or on days when K_K isn't able to form words properly (he's just shy, and even when he isn't he gets tongue-tied a LOT).

-He's easily the best dancer of the three, and uses his extendable body to get really creative with his moves!  He even knows a little ballroom, somehow, which he'll pull out sometimes to make the others laugh.

-(Seriously, K_K CANNOT stand to see Sweet or Cap'n not smiling.  He'll do anything to keep the group's spirits up, usually cracking jokes during a scrap project or doing little favors, and they appreciate all his efforts!)

-K_K has the WORST sleep cycle, ever.  If you let him, he will stay up all night working or partying, finally going to bed at 6AM, and will then sleep until 6PM if the others don't wake him up at some point.  If they know he was up really late they'll let him sleep in a little, but he's often pretty sleep-deprived and running solely on sugar and caffeine, which doesn't help his natural loopiness.  

-He is a VERY physical guy.  Seriously, he will just scoop up and hold Sweet or Cap'n like a cat every five minutes; at first they were just like "Oh.  Okay.  We're hugging now I guess," but after a while they got more used to it and even anticipate when K_K is going to do it.  And he also initiates tons of snuggles and gives piggyback rides whenever one of his bandmates (usually Sweet) requests.  

-K_K actually scrapbooks, collecting pictures and little mementos of places he and the others have gone and things they've done.  After the library fountain is sealed, he pulls them out to show everyone else from Cyber City and reminisce about home.

-It's very hard to make K_K angry, since he tends to stay super chill and brushes off almost everything.  But, on those very, very rare occasions when something does get under his metal outer casing, he'll go full-on silent treatment, not speaking to anyone for up to a week as he sulks and stomps around the junk shop, and even refuses to play any music!  And no amount of sweets or hugs or cheering up will bring him out of it, either; the other two have learned to just wait him out and let him have his space, letting him come to them when he's finally ready to talk about it.

Misc:

-Though all three love everything sweet, K_K's the only one who really goes overboard with it, making whole meals out of candy.  Sweet, ironically enough, actually prefers more salty/savory snacks, while the less is said about Cap'n's hot sauce addiction, the better.

-Okay, actually, I will say more about it.  Cap'n loves spicy food in general, and literally drinks tabasco sauce right from the bottle.  However, he's got a bad habit of daring himself to eat hotter and hotter stuff, ESPECIALLY if someone is watching, and can easily get in WAY over his head before begging for milk.

-They also all totally drink battery acid like Queen.

-Heck, being both Darkners and robots, they can really eat literally anything.  Normal food, milk, oil, batteries, gallons of pure sugar, toothpaste, moss, glitter (NEVER let K_K get hold of any though, he gets lost in the sauce), broken glass, etc, and of course their own deep-fried CDs.  Only thing they can't do is water, since, you know, robots.

-With a lot of the aesthetics of Cyber City being close to turn-of-the millennium and early 2000s (CDs and boomboxes, popup ads, wired mice, Queen theorized to be one of those see-through iMacs, EVERYTHING about Spamton), I like the idea that the boys DO NOT have smartphones, and if you handed them one they'd have no clue how to use it or what to do with it.  But they do have cell phones:  Sweet's got an old flip phone covered in stickers (courtesy of K_K), Cap'n splurged for one of those that slide open and with a camera (he set his background to a tiny, grainy photo of the three of them!), and K_K has one of those indestructible Nokia bricks, that Sweet got him after he kept breaking all his other ones.  They can all text, but that's about as high-tech as they get.

-Same with tablets or newer computers in general, they might share one tiny netbook at most.  Cap’n never remembers to log out of his Dark World dating profile, so the others will snoop or post embarrassing things to it.

-They're really, really durable, even without milk -- they're made of 90s plastic and electronics, so it takes a LOT to take one of them down!  Plus, they regularly repair each other back at the shop (it took a LONG time for them to gain enough trust to physically open and work on each other), so as long as at least one's left to drag the other two to safety they'll be just fine.

-However, if they get splashed with water, caught in the rain, or worse, drowned, they will short out, or shut down on the spot to prevent damage.  Once they completely dry out, though, they'll start right back up, no worse for wear.  When only one of them gets waterlogged the other two will break out the hair dryers to dry them out faster, or even pop them into the oven in a pan of rice like an iPod that got dropped in the toilet...

Finally, backstory?

-Cap'n and K_K met first -- maybe both as new recruits to another, much less savory gang of music equipment robots, and bonded as a result of being put upon by the more established members (Cap'n probably even had to defend K_K more than once when his inattentiveness got him into trouble!)  But, they both had enough one day, and decided to break off and form their own thing, making music and selling CD bagels to support themselves.

-Sweet, meanwhile, has the complete opposite background, coming from a rich and important family of musicians in Cyber City who regularly entertained Queen in her mansion (hence why he always used to get sweets from her!)  But, he was kind of the black sheep, preferring his own style of music, and decided to strike out on his own as a street musician instead.

-They met when Cap'n and K_K accidentally set up to sell bagels on Sweet's usual corner, and he battled them to reclaim his turf.  But, they were evenly-matched (even two-to-one; Sweet's definitely the strongest of the trio!), and impressed each other with both their fighting and musical skills, so Sweet decided to join their tiny group, and thus Sweet Cap'n Cakes was formed.  

-After the whole situation with Queen is resolved, SCC turns their rebellion into an anti-DRM kind of thing?  Nobody can hold back the music, man!

[atalho-s]

Here comes the sun

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: suggestive? but not smut!

words: 1.3 k

summary: you’re tom’s guitar teacher and he is nervous to ask you out.

a/n: this was on my drafts for ages lol i wasn’t going to post it, bc it looks really bad, but yk what? whatever 💁🏾‍♀️😂

Tom grabbed the last clothes that were lying on the living room floor and some glasses from the coffee table and took one last look to make sure everything was in order. He was cleaning up the mess that had been left from the night before. Since he and Harry were sharing a house together the mess seemed endless.

He wasn't one of the most organized people in the world himself, but today was Thursday, and that meant he had guitar lessons. And with guitar lessons Y/n come along, his teacher for the last two months. After he come back from filming and had nothing to do for the rest of the year, he decided he was going to learn everything he could that he hadn't learned in the last few busy years.

But after a few lessons he had realized that he had started looking at her longer than he should have. Getting distracted more often. He really enjoyed talking to her about music, in fact about any topic. In fact, he'd been planning on asking her out for a few weeks, but he obviously never had the courage. So maybe today would be the perfect day. He had put on his favorite shirt with his favorite jeans and now he had just finished cleaning up the mess he and Harry had left behind.

He heard the doorbell ring and stopped in the middle of the living room with scared, tossing a coat he had in his hand into one of the closets quickly. He started to get nervous, maybe it was a bad idea to ask her on a date, maybe she didn't even see him like this, maybe she didn't even like him, after all she was just his guitar teacher, he didn't think she even noticed his looks to her, or if she noticed, she must have found it strange. The doorbell rang one more time and he snapped out of his thoughts, rushing to answer the door. He opened it and came face to face with an Y/n with her guitar case in one hand, wearing a skirt with t-shirt and sneakers, she looked beautiful.

- Hi Tom! Ready for class? - She said smiling when she saw him.

- Hi Y/n! Of course! Come in... - he said, opening the door wider and giving her room to enter.

- Did you practice since the last time? - She asked sitting on the sofa and opening her case, taking her guitar out. Tom stood up just looking at her and Y/n looked up when he didn't respond. - Tom? You going to stand there? - She gave a small laugh.

- Yeah! - He said coming out of his momentary space out. - Sorry! - He said taking his guitar that was in the corner of the room and sitting beside her on the sofa. - I managed to give a good improvement since the last time, I got that part where I was missing...

- Great! You want to show me? - she said smiling again and he smiled back.

- Sure... - he said and started to play the first chords of Here Comes The Sun by the Beatles. The music he had been learning for a week now. Y/n rested her chin on her guitar paying attention to it and Tom missed some chords cursing, making Y/n laugh. He played again now with a confused face, but missed the same part.

- It's alright Tom, you can try again. - She said and Tom shook his head, settling better on the couch.

- Okay, now here we go. - he said starting the chords, but ended up missing again. - Shit! - he cursed and Y/n smiled.

- You're not putting your fingers right... Wait, let me help you... - she said putting her guitar aside and approached him. - Excuse me…- she said and he smiled nodding that she could touch him. She then took her hand and smoothed his fingers over the strings, but instead of Tom looking at his guitar he was lost because her face was so close.

- Okay, now it's better... - she said and looked up to face Tom. Y/n also returned the look intensely and Tom approached slowly looking from her mouth to her eyes. Y/n didn't move from her spot which encouraged him to close the gap by sealing his lips to hers. In the beginning it was just a long peck, until he tried to pull away, but failing, because Y/n pulled him by the back of his neck, putting their lips together again and kissing him heartily, making him smile against the kiss.

Tom placed his guitar on the floor still kissing her and placed one of his hands on her cheek and the other on the couch, pressing her to lie down, which she gladly did. Then he lay on top of her placing his hands beside her head and Y/n ran her hand inside his shirt, making him shiver at her touch.

Tom broke the kiss looking for air and bit her lower lip lightly, running his hand down her leg pulling her closer and kissing her neck.

-Y/n...-He said low now against her chin. - It's this okay?

- More than okay...-she said, interrupting him and kissing him again as he reciprocated. Putting his hand on her waist, he pulled the hem of her shirt, lifting it until they parted their kiss so he could take it off, tossing it aside. He went back to kissing her, kissing each one of her covered breasts and she bit her lip.

- You don't know how long I waited for this... - Tom said now kissing her belly and she looked at him smiling.

-Me too...-she said and he kissed her up to her thighs, lifting the hem of her skirt.

- Really? -he asked against her skin and took a small bite making her give a small moan.

- Yes, for some reason, I can't stop thinking about you. -she replied and he removed his shirt, helping her take off her skirt right after. And while she tossed the fabric aside he took off her pants too, making them both stay in their underwear.

He got back on top of her and Y/n ran her hands over the muscles of his arms. He returned to kiss her lips now going more slowly and run with one of his hands from her leg to her waist, taking her panties lightly, not taking his mouth from hers not even for a second.

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

Tom was now sitting in his boxers waiting for Y/N to come out of the bathroom. He had his guitar on his lap and was strumming a few notes smiling openly to himself. It seems that his plan to ask Y/n out had turned out better than he expected.

He started strumming the first notes of Here Comes The Sun again, this time concentrating better and even hitting the part he had missed earlier. Hearing someone clapping, he looked up seeing Y/n in the doorframe wearing his favorite pink t-shirt, which looked perfect on her, he smiled at the scene.

- Congratulations Tommy, you finally learned! -she spoke approaching also smiling and sat beside him.

- My teacher is very good and well... I had a good inspiration... - he replied and gave her a peck, making her smile. - Y/n... I've been wanting to ask you this for a while but... Do you want to go on a date with me? - He said laughing a little at the irony of asking that now.

- I think we skipped this step, but of course I want to! - She said excitedly and laughed too kissing him right after with desire.

- So that's what you do when you say you're learning guitar? - they heard someone say and jumped in fright, turning around and seeing Harry with his arms crossed leaning against the wall of the living room.

- HARRY! - Tom said covering Y/n's legs with his arms and threw a pillow on top of him making Harry start laughing at their embarrassed faces.

[bitchassbucky]

Ｂｏｔｈｅｒ

📎Word Count: 2.2k

📎Warning/s: smut! minors DNI. mean!fuckboy!bucky x f!reader. unprotected sex. little to no foreplay, because, well, he just wants to get his dick wet. denied orgasm :( no aftercare too lol he’s an asshole in this one. messy facial! some heckin’ words.

📎A/N: jesus fuckiNG CHRIST okay this is one of my longer fics, i’m trying to get back into writing long fics again so, bear with me. fuckboy!bucky playlist to accompany you while reading this <3 

📎reblogs, likes, and comments are all welcomed! shower me with validation pls

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

The bass line and the drumbeat made your heart pump in sync. The room reeked of cheap drinks and expensive perfume—sweaty patrons swirling, mingling around, keeping their drinks cold, their hearts warm.

Chatter peaked when the band finished the song, a round of applause rising the frontman’s ego. The spotlight shone brightly on him, the stage lights hitting his back, lighting up his silhouette with pinks and purples.

He beams with adrenaline. All perfect smiles.

Slinging his stickered guitar to the side, he speaks into the mic, “thank you all for coming. We’ve been The Commandos. Goodnight!” The frontman flashes his million-dollar, megawatt smile and bows, earning another applause from the audience.

The rest of the band slinked out the back, bowing, giving out air-kisses and waves. Another band piles onto the stage, waving hello to the gathering crowd.

You sigh, the bottom of your shoes sticking to the dirty floor of the bar. The overhead lights of the bar a bright yellow contrast to the stage’s red hue. The beer in your hand condensing, the tips of your fingers damp in the process. The warmth of the place piling on your impatience.

Pushing yourself off the bar, you make your way to the back, one thing echoing in your mind. Familiar faces crowd your vision, sending a polite smile their way.

A door stands in front of you, the wood stained with stickers and posters and autographs. You knock twice before turning the knob.

“Where’s Bucky?” You say, leaning against the door frame. The door slowly swings open.

A blonde man, what’s-his-face, looks at you and puts down a pair of drumsticks, “‘Dunno what to tell ya, but he’s not here.”

Your roll your eyes, sending him a mirthless smile, “yeah, obviously. I was hoping if you could tell him to meet me tonight.”

Steve—you suddenly remembered his name—eyed you head to foot, a smirk plastered on his face, “Sounds important. Why don’t you hang out with us while waiting for him?”

A chuckle escapes your lips, “no, thanks. I’ll meet him outside.”

Steve makes a face, quirking a light brow to the rest of the group. All of them sharing the same look, “alright. Suit yourself.”

The clock ticks just ten minutes after 11, your patience growing thin as a needle. A gaggle of drunk patrons stumbles out the door when you spot him—leather jacket, distressed, ripped pants.

“Where’s my ring?” Without missing a beat.

Bucky’s lips quirk into a smirk, “whoa, baby, we fucked once,” he made you come thrice, “and you’re asking for a ring already?”

A shiver runs up your spine, whether it’s from disgust or something else, it wasn’t clear, “you know what I meant. I left my ring on your nightstand.”

“Deliberately, or…”

Your hands curl up in frustration, your left shin itching, “c’mon. Do you have it or not?” 

His intentionally undone boots scuffed against the floor as he stalks closer to you, his perfume invading your olfactory senses. Oh, he smells good. 

“D’you wanna find out?” His voice dropping a couple of octaves, whispering into the shell of your ear. His thick arms caging you against the bar and the wall. Fuck, he smells really good.

A feeble attempt to make room goes unnoticed, your breath hitching in your throat, “If you don’t have it on you, I’d gladly receive it through the mail.”

Bucky licks his tinged lips, a vein in his temple ticking—the lighting reflecting in his blue eyes, “why would I mail it to you when you can pick it up from my place?”

A rational voice in your head echoes, fighting with your impulse. The closeness of both of your bodies radiating warmth and electricity.

“Fine.” You relented, impulsivity is what got you there in the first place.

The drive to the place shouldn’t take too long, the little shit deliberately took the long way to his place. 

While you sit on the passenger side of his car, he keeps sending you amused glances. As if he couldn’t believe you’d willingly go with him tonight. Well, technically, it really wasn’t part of your plan.

“You wanna get burgers first?” He offers, lowering the music coming from the car’s stereo.

“I wanna get my ring back, Bucky.” You say, reminding him—and yourself—of what your agenda for tonight is.

He dismisses you, as per usual. And pulls over a drive-through of a local burger place, ordering himself a meal.

Instead of getting back out on the highway, he parks the car, rolls down the window, and eats.

“Jesus- fuck, Bucky!” You exclaimed in frustration, “look, if you want to waste my time, then-”

“Then, what?”

“Then go fuck yourself.” You left in a huff, swinging your legs and slamming the car door shut. Hoping that he’d go deaf in one ear.

Making sure that you’re well visible and in a brightly-lit place, you pull out your phone to book an Uber. Only to find Bucky making his way to you for the second time tonight.

“Hey!” Didn’t even used your name to call you, great work!

“I do have it, it’s really back in my place. By the lamp on the bedside table.” The truth lingers out on the night air, waiting for you to acknowledge it.

You meet Bucky’s statement with a wary squint, he meets your rightful doubt with a smile.

“No more stopovers.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Bucky’s place is a liminal space for you. 

The familiar shadows and corners welcome you, the surfaces on where your bare skin sat hissed at you. You stood by the doorway, not wanting to prolong the journey.

“Hey, c’mon, it’s just me. Sit down.” Exactly, it is him.

You shake your head, leaning by the wall like a stranger, “I’m good. You’re not gonna take long anyway.”

But instead of retrieving your jewelry, his form retreats to the kitchen. A few seconds pass and you hear the crack and hiss of a beer bottle being opened.

“Y’know, I think I’ll just get it myself.” You toe off your shoes, placing them by the door. Your jacket still hanging off your shoulders.

You passed by Bucky, walking towards a love seat, two beers on one hand, “hurry up, then. Got a drink for ya.”

Hazy images play by memory the last time you were here, his damn cologne seeping into your nostrils.

Your head hanging by the edge of the bed as he laps your cunt like a man starved.

The headboard supporting your balance as you bounce up and down his thick cock.

Carpeting that gave your knees burn as he fucked you from behind.

Like an etch-a-sketch, you shake your head to get rid of the scenes that made themselves known.

A shining glint from the bedside table catches your eye, you swipe the ring and stashed it down your jacket pocket.

Coming out of the room with your ring, your slight smile falters as you saw Bucky lounging shirtless. As rightfully so, this is his home anyway.

You steeled yourself despite the heat that’s making its way up to your neck, “uh, I already got it. Thanks, Bucky.”

He shoots you a look—a lingering one. Like a predator about to pounce on prey. His stare chasing the goosebumps under your clothes.

“You sure you wanna go? It’s–” he glances at his phone for the time, “–past midnight.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can.” The setup.

“How about I take care of you for a change?” The trap.

And then just as sudden as your arrival, you find yourself pressed up against the wall. The agenda of the night has already been forgotten.

Bucky’s mouth finds its temporary home on your jaw, moving down your neck. His large hands already clawing their way under your shirt, the suddenness of the moment stirring the heat in your belly.

Rushed hands and panted breaths meet feverish lips.

The moment his tongue slipped into your mouth was the moment where you lost all inhibitions. Your hands fly to his nape, tugging his hair, effectively making him moan into your mouth.

“You know me so well.” He purrs against your lips. Hitching your legs up his hips as he presses you harder against the drywall.

“Lots of people know you so well.” You bite back, knowing for a fact that he sees others behind your back.

“True,” he’s murmuring against your pulse point and you sigh, “you’re my favorite though.”

Your jacket clutters against the floor of his bedroom, along with his pants and your shirt. A yellow stream of light emits from the living room.

Bucky tosses you on the bed, sending the pillows crashing on the floor. Though the room is darkened with curtains, your eyes adjust enough to see him as he pulls your ankles towards him.

His abs are chiseled like a Greek god, his skin tanned, decorated with tattoos. His left nipple adorns a stainless steel piercing. Like the last time, he grabs your hand, trailing it along his torso, letting you feel his deep v-lines.

A lewd moan escapes your lips as you cup his hardening cock through his boxers. Thick and heavy, a perfect fit.

“You like it?” Bucky taunts, jutting his hips against your hand. You squeeze him lightly, earning you a deep groan from the man above you.

His hand suddenly tightens around your throat, pulling your head towards him, “I asked you a question.”

Giving him a small nod and a meek yeah seemed to have sufficed until he flips you on your stomach and forces your face down the bed.

Your skirt joins the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Your panties do too.

“You’re so wet for me, aren’t ya?” Bucky taunts, one thick finger swiping the wetness between your folds. Spreading it around as preparation. A muffled confirmation made him chuckle as he pinches your clit with intention.

Taking his leaking cock out of his boxers, he swipes the bead of precum from his angry-red tip. He takes his sweet, sweet time before even thinking about pushing into your pussy.

Bucky drags the head of his cock up and down your fold, earning a needy moan from you—coating his entire length with your wetness.

After seemingly an eternity on your side, the sheets already imprinted their impression on the side of your cheek. Bucky finally, fucking finally, pushes into you. A short, white-hot burn shoots through your nerves, making you whimper.

His hand stays on the back of your neck, pushing you further down the bed as he moves. Your pussy lips gripping his dick like a vice, “so fucking tight. God.”

Bucky’s chest swelled up with pride as he notices your fingers digging into his sheets, “no one can fuck you this good.”

The bed squeaks with both of your weight shifting as he reaches around you, his fingers working around your bud. The pressure of his upper body makes you gasp with every thrust of his hips.

He continues to work you—his fingers circling tightly on your throbbing clit, his cock nudging the soft, spongy spot in you. Your toes curl with red heat as your orgasm begins to burn up your legs.

“I’m gonna-- ‘m so close,” your pleas fell on deaf ears as Bucky chases his own high. His balls slapping against your skin, his hips stuttering as his cock pulsates inside your velvet walls.

He curses, grabbing your shoulder and flipping you upside, kneeling before you. His hand pumping his dick continuously as it twitches—the veins even more prominent.

“Open your mouth, I’m gonna cum in it.” Bucky orders and you obey. Your fingers finding their way to your abandoned bundle of nerves—your climax threatening to fade away.

Thick ropes of cum shoot over your mouth, painting your lips and chin white as he misses.

“God, fuck, look at your mess.” Bucky sighs, he’s already tucked back into his boxers and handing you a shirt—presumably to clean yourself up.

“You got your ring? Anything else?” The annoyance in his tone is evident. The clock ticks half past midnight.

You dangle your purse in front of him as a gesture, the wind picks up and your shoes are loose on your feet.

“Alright, well, you could wait for your ride here, I guess.” Bucky dropped the act the moment he got his dick in you.

“Yeah, he’s just around the corner. Thanks for the, uh, ring.”

He hums, looking at his phone. His thumbs dancing over the keyboard, “Try not to bother my friends again when you wanna reach me.”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or to smack the phone out of his hands, “yeah. Tried calling you but I’m pretty sure you blocked my number.”

A curt laugh echoes out from him, “‘m sorry. Out of habit. You know how it is.”

“Right.” And an awkward beat falls over the both of you.

A black car pulls up by the street and you silently thank the stars. By the time you turn around to at least do the right thing and bid Bucky goodnight, you find yourself facing a closed door.

[jaeqtstuff]

― 𝑔𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊

words count: 1.7k

playlist: ghost by justin bieber (recommend to listen to it while reading, just to get the feels because im suck at angst lol)

pls note that english is not my first language. but i had fun writing this so i hope you too! xx

[10:15pm] after escaping the most boring blind date that your friend set you up with, you came across the usual late night bar that you used to go during your days with beomgyu. yeah, your famous ex among your peers.

everybody knows how in love, how insanely perfect the two of you were for a love story but that was during high school. college was a whole different story. it suddenly becomes so toxic that it drained both of you. waking up every morning was a burden to the point you can't even breath in each other presence. you didn't know what went wrong, neither did he but as years passed, it was all because of childish reason. the most hurtful thing about this one is, you knew it could be saved but you didn't do anything. and neither did he.

"whiskey on the rocks." you choose to sit far from others, wanting more privacy. the bartender seems to recognise you by the way his mouth formed a big smile as if he was welcoming a friend. you smiled back, nonetheless.

let's just call it off. it's better this way. i mean can you do this everyday? doesn't this itch you?

you shut you eyes close as you slowly savouring every drops of it. why does it taste bitter? it shouldn't taste like this. i should've just go home.

fucking sick of it. fucking sick of everything and just piss off. don't you get tired of me? honestly i am. so get lost from my fucking sight.

the more you sip, the bitter it got. you didn't enjoy it. maybe that's the reason why some people avoid old places but you were there, drinking alone in the most romantic set up you could ever imagine for a late night bar, the low dimmed lights and slow soul music playing in the background and not to mention all the couple around you. you hate it so much but you can't deny the obvious fact that you missed it. you miss how this place used to caress you with memories you still keep in the deepest part of your heart.

"do people still come over to sing?" you casually asked the bartender as he slips your second drink. you remember how beomgyu used to say that he will sing at the small stage and dedicate a song for you infront of everyone in the bar but he never did.

"well yes. in fact, we're preparing for one." he replied, with much excitement at you. you look passed your shoulders, eyes fixed to the small stage at the corner. they were getting ready with the mic and there was single stool with a guitar at the side.

"he's a good singer." the bartender commented as he was wiping all the utensils he had used just now with a clean cloth. "really?" you look away from the stage and bring your glass close to the mouth. without wasting much, you gulped down the rest of the drink in one go before taking out your purse to pay. you could hear the soft melody of guitar playing at the back but you were more focus with the text displayed on your home screen. "it's weekend. leave me the fuck alone." you hissed under your breath.

Youngblood thinks there's always tomorrow

I miss your touch on nights when I'm hollow

I know you crossed a bridge that I can't follow

Since the love that you left is all that I get

I want you to know that if I can't be close to you

I settle for the ghost of you

I miss you more than life

you shut the phone away and bring the card out to pay. you waited for the bartender to notice you but you were now interested with the song. your head unknowingly move with the beat, fingers tapping slowly on your bare legs. the lights on the stage were too dimmed and you couldn't see well who was the one singing but his voice was causing a whole war flashback in your head.

And if you can't be next to me

Your memory is ecstasy

I miss you more than life

I miss you more than life

you never knew a song could break you so much, not when you least expected it but the one singing was also not helping the situation any better. he was singing his heart out, as if he was the one writing the lyrics from some kind of painful experience he ever had in his life. anyone in the bar could say the same thing.

Youngblood thinks there's always tomorrow

I need more time but time can't be borrowed

I'd leave it all behind if I could follow

Since the love that you left is all that I get

I want you to know that if I can't be close to you

the more you listen, the more your heart ached. all these years, you thought you moved on from him. you can finally accept the fact that you can live without him by your side. in those years, it's a lie if you say you never thought of him during those drunken nights with your friends. but tonight was brutal. you could relate to the lyrics so much that you had trouble holding yourself back from any breakdown that would cost you every time you said you were good without him.

I'll settle for the ghost of you

I miss you more than life, yeah

you were never good.

And if you can't be next to me

Your memory is ecstasy (oh)

I miss you more than life

I miss you more than life

you were never calm after both of you called it off. you forced yourself to drink every night so that you can sleep without thinking of him but the terrible headaches every morning was torture. the moment you get up, he was all over in your head. you remember how you wanted to run back to him every night, tell him to forget all the bad pieces and just start new but by looking at the sight of it, it would make you throw up. you definitely knew it will make things worse.

you looked at the stage, still trying to see who was the one singing. heart still hurting but deep down, you were expecting something out of wicked love story. the tears building up in your eyes were not helping as your visions got blurry from the lyrics. blinking the tears away, you were nervous to look back to the stage again.

So if I can't get close to you

I'll settle for the ghost of you

But I miss you more than life

And if you can't be next to me

Your memory is ecstasy

you breathed in deeply, struggling to gain your composure. nonetheless, the shaky eyes went back to the stage where suddenly, the lights around the stage were slowly looking brighter. you could clearly see how he was playing the guitar effortlessly with his eyes closed. the expression on his face was tormentingly raw or maybe it was just your eyes telling the lies to the mind, telling you that he was also in much pain just like you were. one thing for sure, you eyes couldn't lie the one infront of you.

I miss you more than life

I miss you more than life

how can you forget his voice? you gasped for air, breathed in every sharp air you could get because you knew, the night will only get worse, will only wreck you even more than it did before. you could never get better from it.

the people around you start clapping, telling you that he was done singing on the stage. you could hear the soft giggle from the mic before the countless thank you from him. you carefully eyed him at the stage before taking out the cash from your purse, putting the card back inside. you couldn't be bothered about the points because the last thing you want was beomgyu seeing you in this helpless state. smudge eyeliner and mascara because of the tears and also the short lacy black dress you were wearing. it was too obvious.

so you left without looking back. and oh boy, the moment the cold air hit your face, you couldn't hold back the tears. no, you were weeping, sobbing, almost throwing up on the side road. walking to home will be hard but you were quick to stop a cab.

thank god the tears stop the moment you were in the cab. the warm seat kinda cool you down a bit but your heart was eager. you didn't stop there and pulled out the phone from your back. eventhough you didn't contact each other, you knew where to find him and in those nights like this, you always check on him. last time you did was two years ago and maybe it should just stay unchecked.

the moment it hits you, there i knew i am still holding on to the past just like how i always did. and perhaps it's because you are always there. not leaving me nor forget about me. i will just settle like this, holding on to that life i miss most. ― 15 minutes ago

wish you can stay longer so that this night would not be lonely again but it's not what i thought it is. i'm sorry. ― 2 minutes ago

you lost at the last words and now fighting your own mind, telling the cab to turn around but you couldn't get the words out from your mouth. you knew beomgyu saw you, he probably saw you in that bar. sitting alone at the furthest table from the rest. he probably saw how you were struggling in your seat, looking so pathetic in that dress.

he was right. beomgyu was right.

this night will only get lonelier. if only you stayed, maybe things could change but you knew, it can only work if both of you wanted it. he had his chance but he didn't use it. in between those tears, you laugh it off, thinking how stupid could you be with just simple words like 'i'm sorry', you were ready to throw yourself again to the deepest pit of hell with him.

choi beomgyu,

the only man who wreck you this much. the only man who can prove to you that there will be no other lover like him.

"choi beomgyu."

[grxtsch]

lyin’ eyes

[jimmy page x reader]

summary: after relationship troubles, (y/n) decides to leave and hopefully forget all that’s happened. but when she reaches a place that holds many memories, a certain old friend who she shared those memories with was waiting for her to return.

notes: i don’t know what that summary is but i made it up on the spot so don’t even complain abt it :P

also i personally think that this is my best fic so far so yeah enjoy ig 😩🤚

edit: LMAO this was supposed to be based off of the song by the eagles but my brain had other ideas rip

warnings: cheating (idk if i need to warn u abt that but i’m being safe), swearing, fluff

“(y/n) please wait!” a voice sounded from behind you as you dragged a suitcase filled with your clothes and other possessions to the front door.

“no chris, i’ve waited long enough at the damn restaurant and where were you?” you said, throwing your free hand up in the air. “you were fucking this bitch in our— no, your house.” you seethed back at your now ex-boyfriend, who stood with an expression of grief.

“in fact, i don’t want to wait at anymore restaurants for your stupid ass.” his grief soon turned into anger as you spun around on your heels and walked out the front door.

you could hear him shouting some profanities out of the open door, but you managed to block out his voice and instead focus on the sound of your shoes on pavement as you walked with your suitcase to wherever your feet would lead you.

you were completely done with his bullshit. coming home late claiming he was “working”, flirting with other girls when you two were out shopping, and, just like this night, leaving you stranded at some restaurant for some other chick. it wasn’t even the first time he’s done that. you were ready to leave him before this day had even started; you had spent a few days secretly putting all of your possessions into your handy suitcase, only putting away a couple things at a time so he wouldn’t notice the lack of your items in the house.

before you knew it, you were standing in front of a bar that you used to always go to with one of your dearest friends. “maybe he still comes here.” you thought as you made your way through the bar door and straight to a small booth in the far corner of the building. the same small booth that your friend and yourself had always sat at when you both would come here.

his name was james page, which he preferred jimmy, but you just used james instead to pick some fun at him. the two of you were the closest of friends, ever since your childhood where you fell off of your bike and he ran over to check to see if you were okay. he even went with you to your house just to make sure that you weren’t hurt. even as you both had gotten older, you would both help each other out with homework, watch movies together, and he even taught you some guitar chords and tricks.

the downfall of your friendship happened a while after he joined one of his first bands; the yardbirds. he would always be traveling, performing at different concert venues around the country, and even the world. at first you would just call him or he would call you on these tours, which worked well for awhile, until he got so busy with the band that he didn’t have any time to return your many missed calls.

you missed him dearly, thinking of him from time to time during the day. you often wondered what he was doing at the time when you thought of him, whether it was playing his guitar or just relaxing at wherever he may call home.

you stood up to go grab a beer, hoping to wash your thoughts away, when a very familiar sound reached your ears. it was his laughter. the same sweet laughter you grew fond of whenever you’d be around him. you didn’t know how much you longed to hear that sound again until that very moment, it almost held you in a trance until the beautiful sound melted away and the song that the jukebox was playing had replaced it.

“i was probably just imagining it.” you thought. running a hand through your hair to try and focus back on reality, you continued to the bar, a fairly large opening right in front of you that you could get to quickly. when you reached the bar, you heard a familiar voice say, “(y/n)! long time no see!” you looked up to see the bartender, florence. she has been the same bartender since you and jimmy started coming to this bar, usually just to hang out and talk about different things. you were still surprised that she still worked here, she’s not as young as she used to be, but you were glad that she was here and not some other new bartender.

“hey flo! how’s everything been recently?” you smiled lightly, not really in the mood to talk a lot, but willing to make small conversation with your old friend. “quite good dear! it’s been boring without yourself and jimmy constantly making a ruckus in here though, i kind of miss having to tell the manager about how you two broke the jukebox again!” florence joked, causing you to let out a small laugh. “yeah, those were the good old days, weren’t they?” she smiled. “they really were. anyway! how about a drink for you aye?”

“whiskey. any kind will do.” you replied, which flo nodded and went off to get your drink, coming back in record time with a glass about half way filled with the golden-brown alcohol. you smiled and said a quick “thank you” and carefully took the glass, bidding flo a farewell and she returning it.

you walked back over to your seat, the chat with florence clearing your mind of the earlier events and bringing your mood up a bit. she always had that effect on people, making them crack even a slight smile when they’re feeling blue. right as you were about to sit down, the voice that you never thought you’d hear again called out, “(y/n)? is that you?”

you set your glass down, mentally preparing to see him for the first time in a long, long time. holding your breath, you turn around and see him, the jimmy page, your old best friend. “james?” his hair was longer, barely reaching to his shoulder, and it was slicked back slightly, showing his beautiful green eyes. his smile was still the same, and you swore your heart did a backflip when he smiled at you and said “oh (y/n) i knew it was you! i couldn’t miss that gorgeous hair of yours anywhere.”

you were pretty sure that your face was bright red as you smiled bashfully. “oh thank you jim. and i see you grew yours out hm?” he chuckled, running his hand through his hair softly and said “yeah, i just thought why the hell not you know?” “mhm! i like it a lot, it suits you.” you said back, nudging his shoulder with your knuckle.

he grins and mumbles a quick “thanks”. he then looks back up at you and says “wanna sit and chat for awhile? catch up on all the times we missed?” you nod, motioning for him to sit at the opposite side of where your drink is, and he sat, you following his actions and sitting down as well. you grabbed your glass of whiskey and took a long sip of it, leaving only a small amount left in the bottom of the cup. jimmy’s eyes followed your hand as you set it back on the table, then his eyes flicked back up to meet yours, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“is everything alright? i haven’t seen you drink like that in, well, i’ve never seen you drink like that.” you sighed, drawing your finger around the rim of the cup gently. “if i’m being honest, no. a year after we, y’know, stopped talking, i found a guy and we got along quite well and started dating.” you noticed jimmy’s hand clenched into a fist, so you continued.

“everything was fine between us, until recently. he started going after other girls, even with me around him. he even asked me on a date just so i would stay, because i told him that if he doesn’t get his shit together then i’m just going to leave. we were supposed to meet at a restaurant, but of course he didn’t show up even when he’s the one who wanted me to go with him and not the other way around. so i went back to our former shared house and found him fucking some random chick that i’ve seen him flirt with before.” you stared at your drink, before grabbing it and finishing it off. as soon as you set the glass back, jimmy’s hand softly reached for yours and held it, caressing his thumb over your knuckles.

you rose your eyes up to meet jimmy’s, his eyes holding a soft, caring look, the same look that you’ve longed to see for many years. “it’s fine though, really. it’s not like i really loved him anyway..” you lied, thinking of when you first met chris, how happy he made you. but you realized that a certain someone, perhaps the someone sitting across from you, had made you happier than chris could’ve.

“(y/n) love, your lying eyes really give away that you did love him at one point, and it’ll take a while to try and un-love him, trust me.” a soft hand came in contact with your cheek, gently wiping a stray tear away that you didn’t notice had fallen. looking back up at jimmy, you smiled at him and brought your hand that wasn’t occupied and rested it against his. “i know jimmy, but i think i’ve already moved on from that asshole.”

his eyes flashed with a glimmer of hope, and he softly nodded, a small smile painting his face. he paused, then cautiously asked; “i know we’ve only talked for a few minutes, and you can refuse this offer, but how about we ditch this bar and go somewhere else?” you brought jimmy’s hand down to rest on the table, holding them both with your warm hands and nodded. “yeah, i’d like that.” he stood up from the seat, pulling you up with him.

“well then, what are we waiting for?”

tag list: @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @asetcrowley @reincarnated70sbaby @thebeatlesuniverse @princesspagey @jonesyjonesyjonesy

[ogravensimp]

Dad!Constantine AU: Rhiannon

first one shot in my Dad!Constantine AU but there is plenty more of this to come so enjoy and make sure to tell me what you think :D

"John? What's that? Is it a tool to help us practice today? John? Is tha-”

Constantine couldn't help but chuckle at the string of questions coming from behind him. He began to think about how less than a few months ago the little girl would barely say a word a day…now he can’t get her to ever shut up.

He turned around and looked down at the tiny figure that sat cross-legged on his rug, who only looked back up at him with confusion in her huge purple eyes. Unlike the ancient power that was leaking out of her, the child in front of him looked exactly as harmless as you'd expect a 7-year old to look.

With her dark-plum hair unevenly clipped short to reach her chin and choppy bangs to cover the red gem on her forehead, it really gave you the illusion that she was a normal human child. And John liked to pretend that the terrible haircut helped achieve a more ‘innocent’ look and in fact, better hid her demonic origins…but that was probably just his only defence against his conscience that nagged at him for not going to a professional.

But hey, she was the one that begged him to cut off her originally waist-length hair and he gave it his best shot with the tools at his disposal—which happened to only be a pair of kitchen scissors, an old magazine for reference and a faded ruler for 'accuracy', but at least Raven seemed happy enough.

He felt his lip tug as he remembered how she had childishly bobbed her head left and right in the mirror afterwards; enjoying the liberation of short hair.

It seemed Azarath’s refusal to cut her hair off was the only thing the kid seemed to dislike about the place.

In fact, she had thrown a near fit when John recommended they ditch the tattered white Azarathian robes he had found her in when he pulled her from the depths of hell. He looked at her current outfit and noted that she seemed to have grown quite comfortable with the human clothes given to her.

She currently donned a large purple knit sweater and a pair of baggy jeans with flowers sewn on the legs. They were probably in style twenty years ago and weren't even her size but John had limited knowledge on where to find children's clothes(or about children in general) and assumed she'd just 'grow into them someday' when he had chosen them from a local thrift store.

Again, as long as Raven liked them.

"This, my little angel, is a music record," he held up the square packaging to her and made a show of sliding out the large disk inside, "This plays music. They allow music up in that Azarath place of yours or just prayers?"

"In Azarath? No, not really," John noticed whenever that cult of her's was brought up, she'd always lower her tone and look down at her fingers as if apprehensive of speaking wrong of them—John didn't know why though, they sounded like a bunch of wankers to him, "Azar said that music is a distraction that would only disrupt my mind by causing me to feel...feelings."

John felt the melancholy in the air as she spoke. It was rare she shared anything; for a kid, she was pretty secretive and John couldn't help but push to know more about his new ward, "And that's a no go, ey?"

"Only for me." She seemed almost smaller now, trying to hide deeper in her baggy clothes—maybe that's why she never pushed for more accurately sized clothes, "The others would sometimes gather to sing mantras in the courtyard as that’s the only type of music allowed but during those times Azar would always put me in the highest tower so I never really heard anything but muffles.”

John sighed.

Sometimes he didn't know if those quacks in Azarath wanted to actually raise Raven or terminate her but the more he learnt, the more he found the answer leaning towards the latter.

He crossed the living room in one large step and kneeled to be face to face with the little girl who stared up at him, nervous, "Listen, angel, I don't know much about Azarathian chants but I do know...", this time he allowed the girl to touch the record—though gently, "Fleetwood Mac. The best band in the world."

"What makes them so special?", Raven asked softly as she marvelled at the disc in her hand; holding it like it was a precious treasure.

John smiled— something he found himself doing a lot of since the arrival of this certain hellspawn. Plucking the records from the girl's small hands, he stood up and reapproached the player he was standing by, "Let me tell you a little secret in the magical community, love."

He placed the record on the player before dropping the pin and quickly turning, excited to see the reaction on the girl's face. Raven just looked confused, her mini caterpillar eyebrows scrunching up on her forehead as the guitar intro began.

"Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night And wouldn't you love to love her?"

He plopped onto the floor next to Raven and turned to her, "You hear her? Like a voice from heaven, innit?"

The little girl just nodded, probably unsure of the right answer.

"Takes to the sky like a bird in flight And who will be her lover?"

"Her name is Stevie Nicks and she's...one of us," He made a gesture of pointing between both of them to symbolise his point, his smile growing as her amethyst eyes twinkled in interest, " The 'White Witch' we call her but non-supernatural's don't know nothing about that, all they hear is the music but we, we can truly hear her."

"All your life you've never seen Woman taken by the wind

Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win?"

Taking her tiny palms in his, he instructed, “Now I want you to focus on your inner soul.”

She obediently followed instructions, letting her eyes fall closed and she instantly shifts to focus mode with an expression as still as a statue.

"She is like a cat in the dark And then she is to darkness

She rules her life like a fine skylark And when the sky is starless"

Through her delicate skin, he could feel her once-raging magic begin to ease from the form of a ceaselessly pouring tsunami to simple irregular waves in a vast ocean.

"Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win? Will you ever win?"

See, with Stevie Nicks being a witch herself, it only makes sense that some of her magic got laced inro all her music. Magic that had the properties to almost soothe one's magical core and opened up internal gates that were causing a blockage in one's being.

Similar to meditation. Just a whole lot more fun.

John simply didn’t believe in all that meditation stuff that Raven so pliably relied on and if he was going to take her in, it was his duty to teach her the many other ways she can control her abilities.

"Rhiannon Rhiannon Rhiannon Rhiannon"

"I can feel it...I can feel what she's saying." Raven's voice was so soft that John almost didn't catch what was spoken.

Suddenly there was an intense spike in the calm aura that's once surrounded them. He felt the hands in his grasp tense as her once still expression drastically changed.

"She rings like a bell through the night And wouldn't you love to love her?"

Her small face was soon blown in full panic. Sweating like bullets, her already drained of life skin seemed even paler and the strength she used to struggle suppressed what a child of her stature should be able of achieving but John made sure to hold tight.

"She rules her life like a bird in flight And who will be her lover? All your life you've never seen Woman taken by the wind"

"John I don't like this! I...I can feel too much... make it stop!", Her eyelids shuddered as she seemed to be forcing them to stay shut.

Continuing to wiggle in his grasp, the magic concentration in the room got thicker and thicker making it harder to breathe but this was exactly what needed to happen and John knew this. So even though her hurting voice made his heart shatter, he had no choice but to steel his resolve in the face of her cries and just hope it will pay off, “John!? John, please….DAD!”

John didn’t know what hurt more, the way her demonic magic was stabbing him like shards of glass in his skin or the pain in her voice as she called him the title he never in his life thought he’d be referred as.

"Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win? Will you ever win?"

“This is all your magic, angel, you got to feel your magic. Can't just lock it up, this is all you,”, he gritted his teeth while he was explaining, and filled with some unknown determination, he spat out a phrase he normally tried to avoid, “you have to trust me.”

Raven’s eyes flew open at that, revealing the orbs of amethyst that were wetting with tears. Her little mind struggled to wrap around the statement John had just said and for a moment she just stared at him. It felt like the longest moment of John’s life because he knew her empathic abilities could see the nervous wreck he truly is and he worried that would dissuade her.

For a second there was no action.

"Rhiannon Rhiannon Rhiannon"

Until, much to John’s surprise, she nodded, “ok…I trust you.”

And John could literally feel the truth in her words as she stopped struggling in his hands and started to return back to the focused zone she had been in before.

This time though, her eyes were open and staring straight at him but John found himself not minding.

“Good.” John took on the role of closing his eyes as he began to concentrate.

"Taken by taken by the sky" "Taken by taken by the sky" "Taken by taken by the sky"

He wasn’t going to just burden a 7-year-old with whatever destructive sorcery that was sealed in her small body, it was his job as her teacher and her…dad to try and guide the freed magic back to her core.

But for that, he needs to concentrate real hard.

The moment John could feel air moving in his lungs again, he knew he had succeeded. Opening his eyes up, he was met with the same pools of purple still staring.

“So, how’d you feel?”

"Dreams unwind Love's a state of mind Dreams unwind Love's a state of mind"

That was when Raven finally broke eye contact and instead looked down at her fingers, not in nervousness but this time in amazement, as if she could see the magic in her fingertips, “I don’t know…tingly.”

This time Constantine let a deep genuine laugh escape his throat at her childish choice of words, “That’s good, means your magic is finally spreading. If you ask me that’s a better option than keeping it all sealed up.”

Raven tilted her head to the side, once again confused.

Constantine didn’t blame her though, her little head was probably going through something similar to a whirlwind at this point.

After all, in her first few years of life, she had lived a life of nothing but restriction and then he spawns from nowhere finds and brings her from hell, seals her oh-so scary father in said hell and then begins to dismantle everything she’s ever been thought to believe in, in the first place.

Must be a lot for a 7-year-old to bear.

Luckily though, Raven is 7 and they aren’t known for dwelling on things for too long.

“Do you have any more songs like that?” She asked, now focused on the player that stood in silence now that the record had reached its end.

John smirked at that, “Oh plenty more of where that came from and we aren’t gonna stop at just Fleetwood, we got some Zeplin, Rolling Stones and…”

Raven just nodded, again, not knowing the right answer and simply letting herself be ‘educated’ on all things that John Constantine had to offer.

In her opinion, this was far more fun than her old teachings.

yes I got the Stevie Nicks is a witch from ahs coven, so expect a lot more supernatural TV crossovers in this AU cause they're now my obsession

[onlyfreds]

Malibu | F.W.

Title: Malibu

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: After seeing her ex with his “new girl”, Y/N drives to Malibu and reunites with her best friend and his family. But, little does she know: that he holds key to complete her once broken heart.

Warning/s: mentions of cheating, mentions of a wound, the ex boyfriend, basically the whole Sour album being referenced

A/N: Finally, after a month, I had finally finished this fic! I recommend listening to this while reading!

I parked my car near Santa Monica beach. The pain from being broken up by the person I loved was still fresh.

It’s not like I haven’t moved on yet. I have. But some scars take more time to heal.

It didn’t feel like rubbing salt to a wound, but just spraying a bit of alcohol on it. It stings, but it’s bearable.

I walked towards the beach, feeling the softness of the sand underneath my sandals until I saw something that made me stop in my tracks.

It was him, him and his new girl.

The two of them sat happily by the ocean, he was playing our song on his guitar, the song I played to him when we were still dating.

They were sitting at our place. The place I found.

Her laugh echoed through the air as they traded jackets and started laughing about how small it looked on him.

Did he even tell her that we did all those things too?

I took a deep breath, half of my mind wanted me to walk over to them and smack him right across the face for doing every special thing we did with her.

But the other half just wanted me to walk away and forget all about it. It had been two weeks since we broke up, so what right did I have to do that?

I took another deep breath, running back to my car and stepping on the gas heading off the who knows where.

I’d settle for anywhere but here.

I turned on the radio as I drove through the highway, as song playing immediately.

So, when you gonna tell her, that we did that too?

She thinks it’s special, but it’s all reused

That was our place, I found it first.

I made the jokes you tell to her when she’s with you

Do you get déjà vu?

I laughed, even Olivia Rodrigo knew how it feels.

I gripped the steering wheel harder, a destination entering my mind, if he could move on and find someone knew, then who said that I couldn’t too?

With a small smile, I took a right turn at the intersection, to head over to Malibu.

--

Once I arrived, the sun has set and the sky has been painted with a blanket of stars.

Stepping out of my car, I breathed in the fresh air from the beach. The tension I had felt earlier becoming nonexistent.

I bought strawberry ice cream, sitting contentedly on the sand as the waves calmly came in contact with the shore every now and then.

“Y/N? Is that you?” A voice that I hadn’t heard for so long suddenly spoke.

I looked behind me, immediately spotting my ginger best friend, “Freddie.”

He sat down on the sand beside me, “Is that really you?” He asked.

I chuckled, putting down my ice cream cup, “In the flesh.”

Fred grinned, pulling me into a tight hug, “It’s been so long! How have you been?”

“I’m fine.” I answered, “Finally moved on.”

“Hey,” He said softly, cupping my face in his hands and lifting my face up to look at him, “What’s wrong? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, I know there’s something wrong.”

I sighed, “I just him at our place, singing our song, with his new girl.”

Fred pulled me into his chest, running his fingers through my hair in a comforting manner, “You deserve so much better than that git. He didn’t know what kind of angel he lost.”

He then stood up, pulling me up with him and dragging me to the nearby hotel, “Come on. The rest of the family is in the hotel.”

He brought me up to a hotel room, even if we were standing by the door, the chatter could still be heard.

Fred opened the door, “Mum! I brought someone over!”

The warm motherly voice of Molly spoke, “Who is it dear?”

Ginny was the first one who spotted me, “Y/N!” She said immediately tackling me into a hug.

After Ginny, Molly and the rest of the Weasleys greeted me with hugs.

When I was still with my ex, he had basically forbidden me from seeing the Weasleys, for reasons that he never told me.

Being rebellious, I sneaked out a couple times and whenever he caught me, it was the cause of our biggest fights.

The girls and I catched up with each other by the couch, as I found out that George and Angelina would be getting married by the end of the month.

“Aaw.” I cooed, nudging Angelina’s shoulder teasingly, “My match making skills have finally paid off.”

Hermione and Ginny laughed as Angelina smacked me on the shoulder, trying to hide the blush that has rose up to her cheeks.

“Well, I already have a bet on who’s getting married next.” Ginny said with a small smile, taking another sip of her wine.

“Who?” Hermione asked, handing me the bottle, as I poured more of the drink into my glass.

“Fred and Y/N.” Ginny said in as a matter-of-fact tone.

I nearly spilled the wine on my clothes, “What?”

“What do you mean what? You’ve fancied him for as long as any of us could remember. And I just know that you still fancied him even if when you were still with Asher.” Hermione said, taking the bottle away from me before I could make a real mess.

“It’s obvious that Fred fancies you. He has always been head over heels in love with you.” Angelina added.

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Fred talking to his twin as he sent a wink in my direction.

I managed a small smile, “He doesn’t fancy me and he’ll never will.”

The youngest Weasley rolled her eyes, “He does and he has always been.”

I scoffed, “How sure are you about that Gin?”

“Just in case you forgot, I’m his sister Y/N. And not to mention the way he looks at you, the way he acts around you. It’s obvious to everyone except you.”

--

(Fred’s POV)

“You know,” George said, “Instead of gawking at her like a complete idiot, why don’t you just ask her out already?”

I looked at my twin, “I’m not gawking at her.”

He rolled his eyes, “Could’ve fooled anyone.” He said sarcastically.

“She only looks at me as a brother.” I said.

“No she doesn’t.” George took another sip of his drink, “The two of you practically chase each other around like lovesick puppies.”

“I’m not sure Georgie.”

My twin sighed, “There’s a simple solution to that. Will you treat her like how her git of an ex treated her?”

I looked at him as if he suddenly grew two heads, “What kind of question is that? Of course, I wouldn’t.”

“Would you treat her better than he ever did?”

“Yes!”

He shrugged, “Then there’s your answer.”

I ran a hand through my hair, “Do you think this is really the right time?”

George gave a small smile, “It’s up to you, but I think that the wedding would come in handy.” He said with a small wink.

(Reader’s POV)

As the night deepened, the alcohol settling into our systems.

I stood up, as Ginny yawned, “I guess I better be going now. It’s pretty late.”

“What room are you staying in dear?” Molly asked.

I shook my head, “I just dropped by. I’ll be driving back home.”

Molly gave a small smile, “That’s out of the question dear, why don’t you just stay with us?”

I chuckled, “No need Molly. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Nonsense.” She insisted, “You’re staying with us.”

“Yeah Mum.” George agreed, “And she could share a room with Fred.”

Fred cheeks immediately flushed pink as Molly said, “That’s a great idea George.”

And that’s how I ended up in the bathroom of Fred’s hotel room, changing into his sweater and some shorts.

“You know.” Fred said when I came out, “If you’re uncomfortable sharing a bed, I can always sleep on the couch.”

I shook my head, giving him a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry Freddie. I’m fine.”

He chuckled climbing into bed and lifting up the duvets, “Come on, what are you waiting for?”

I laughed, rolling my eyes at him, “Always impatient, are you?”

“Why wait when there’s so many things life has to offer?”

I chuckled as I climbed in beside him, “That’s still your motto?”

He laughed, wrapping an arm around my waist, “That’ll always be my motto.”

--

The next morning, while the rest of the Weasleys were still asleep, Fred and I decided to head down to take a walk on the beach.

“Do you remember when we were kids.” Fred said, out of the blue, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Whenever our parents brought us here, you, George and I would always attempt to bury Percy deep in the sand.”

I laughed at the memory, “Yeah, Percy would always complain about getting sand in his nose.”

Fred grinned, “We would bury him so deep that it was already lunch time by the time he got out.”

I suddenly looked in front of my me, my smile fading as at the person I saw.

Fred noticed the sudden quietness, “Hey, is everything al-“ The next word died in his throat as he glanced in the direction I was looking at and saw exactly what made me upset.

It was Asher, with his new girl.

Fred immediately placed a protective arm on my waist, “Come on, let’s go.”

But before we could even leave, I heard the voice of the person I’ve been dreading call out, “Y/N? Fred? Is that you?”

Not being able to escape the inevitable fate, I threw on a smile as the couple walked towards us, Fred tightening his grip on my waist.

“How have you two been?” He asked, interlocking his hands with his new girl.

“Never been better.” I said, giving him a smile to show him I was alright without him.

Asher nodded to Fred’s arm around my waist, “So, you two are together?”

I opened my mouth to answer but Fred beat me to it, “Yeah, we are.”

Asher smiled. “That’s great! I always knew that you two would get together.”

I raised a brow at him, “Really?”

He nodded, “Yeah. You two just have this amazing chemistry that we never had.”

Surprisingly, that didn’t sting. If anything, it actually made me happier.

I smiled, “I always knew that someday I’ll be everything to somebody else.”

Silence lingered among the group for a while, before Asher spoke up, "Well, we better be going now. See you two around then."

"He's like a damn sociopath." Fred muttered once the couple was out of earshot.

I laughed, "You got that right."

"He broke my heart but he broke much more." I said with a small shrug.

Fred kept his arm wrapped around my waist as we walked along the shoreline, "But don't worry about that idiot. Who knows? Maybe the guy who'll treat you better is just around the corner."

His gaze then shifted towards the ocean, a small smile growing on his lips.

I could practically see the gears turning in his head. I nudged his shoulder gently, "What's going on in that big brain of yours?"

"Something to get your mind off your worries and problems." He said, the smile transitioning into a huge grin.

I immediately caught on as to what he was thinking, "Freddie! Swimming in the ocean in Malibu won't solve our problems."

He laughed, "Obviously. But it would make you forget about them."

I chuckled, "I'm obviously not wearing a swimsuit Fred. I won't swim."

Fred shrugged, swiftly taking off his shirt to reveal his toned torso, "Suit yourself then." He said before running towards the body of water and jumping in.

I laughed at his childish antics, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Come on!" He encouraged, shaking the water out of his hair, "It'll be fun!"

I mulled over it for a while before finally giving in.

"Fine." I said, taking off my jacket, leaving my shirt and shorts on before running down the sand and jumping in.

"See?" Fred said, splashing water to my face, "What did I tell you?"

I playfully rolled my eyes at him, "Fine. Fine. You were right."

The two of us chased each other around, just like we did when we were little.

Fred's gaze suddenly landed behind me. Before I could ask what that was about, he placed a hand on my cheek before crashing our lips together.

When we pulled apart, he kept his hand on my cheek as a blush rose up to his cheeks.

"A-asher was looking our way." He managed to stutter out, "Just thought we'd make it look realistic."

I bit my lip as I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment, "Yeah. Good call."

God, it's brutal out here.

--

Fred and I were out getting our outfits for the wedding.

He had already gotten his tuxedo so we just needed to get my dress.

"How does this look Freddie?" I asked, stepping out of the dressing room as I gave him a small turn.

He grinned, "It looks beautiful on you."

I blushed at the compliment, hopefully he wouldn't notice.

"This is the one I'll get then." I said, turning around to go change.

"Y/N, wait!" Fred called out.

"Yeah Freddie?" I asked.

He bit his lip, looking slightly embarrassed, "Do you want to go to the wedding as my date?"

I looked at him, "As your date?"

"Yeah."

I smiled, "I would love to."

Then I went back into the changing room.

--

Fred and I were walking around the park, waiting to meet up with Harry and Ginny.

From a distance, we spotted Asher and his new girl, having a picnic.

Fred scoffed, putting his arm around my shoulder, "He's showing her off like she's a new trophy."

I laughed, placing my hands in my pockets, "He brings her around just to shut me down."

"He's an idiot." Fred said.

"At least he's not my idiot."

--

"To the newly-weds!" Fred finished his best man's speech, raising a toast to his twin and new sister-in-law as the party officially started.

The night wasn't getting any younger, I stepped out of the venue, breathing in the ocean breeze.

"Mind if I join you?" Fred asked, suddenly appearing by my side.

I nodded, giving him a small smile, "When did I mind your company?"

We walked down the sand, getting farther and farther away from the chaos and noise of the party and into our own bubble of tranquility.

"The stars look beautiful tonight." Fred contemplated, looking up at the night sky.

I chuckled, "Yeah, they're always beautiful."

A small chuckle could be heard from the man next to me, "Not as beautiful as you though."

I blushed at the compliment, looking down at my feet.

"I probably give you butterflies." He said, "With the way you're blushing like a teenage schoolgirl."

I took a deep breath, regaining a bit of my composure, "Well I was never told I was beautiful before."

His eyes widened in surprise, "What? Even the git tell you that?"

I laughed, "Is it that hard to believe? Well, he called me pretty once. But he never said that I was beautiful. He claimed to not be the 'compliment type'."

Fred rolled his eyes at the last two words, "Well, I don't care if he's not the 'compliment type' because he is an idiot for not telling you how beautiful you are."

"Besides," he added, "don't you think that you loved him too much to think that you deserve nothing?" He asked.

"I don't know." I admitted, "Maybe?"

He playfully scoffed, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants, "The things I would do so I could call you mine."

His words caused me to stop in my tracks as I looked at him, "What?"

He shrugged, "You heard what I said."

"Are you serious?" I asked, "Because I remembered that I believed that moment he said it."

Fred rested a hand on my cheek, "I want to give you the world. Look, I understand that you might not be ready, after how that git treated you. But I love you, Y/N. More than anything else in this whole world. I would treat you so much better than anyone else could ever do. I love you so much."

I looked at him in complete, utter shock. Not saying a word, I launched myself into his arms, crashing our lips together as Fred stumbled back slightly.

"I love you too Freddie." I whispered as we pulled away.

He grinned, "Thank goodness. Or else that sudden confession would've been quite awkward."

Fred then leaned forward and pecked my lips, "I promise that I would never ever treat you the way he did. Ever. Cross my heart that if I ever cross the line, please put me in my place."

I laughed, "Hopefully I won't have to do that."

Ain't it funny that I just realized that I knew how he liked his coffee and his favorite songs by heart.

--

Four years.

Four years of blissfulness, excitement, adventure.

Four years of complete honesty, trust, and love.

No twisted games. No questions being avoided.

That's when we finally decided to tie the knot.

It may not have been the wedding of the century, but a beach wedding in Malibu was more than enough for the both of us.

"If anyone is against the marriage of Fred Weasley and Y/N L/N, please come forward now or forever hold your peace." The minister said.

No one gave an answer, the minister was then about to continue when the voice I haven't heard in a long time was suddenly heard.

"Wait! Stop the wedding!"

Asher stopped, standing in the middle of the aisle. Desperation being the only thing that could be seen in his eyes.

"What is he doing here?" Fred whispered.

I shrugged, "I don't know. I specifically made sure not to send him an invite, even by accident."

"Don't marry him Y/N. Please." Asher pleaded, "Take me back."

I looked at him, "What in the damn world do you think will make me do that?"

"Please." He repeated, "I regret how I treated you. I never should've left you to be with Jessica."

I shook my head, "Nothing. Absolutely nothing in this world could convince me to get back with you. You left me. For Jessica. You knew how I was so insecure about her. You found someone more exciting, the next second you were gone. Fred is so much better than you could ever become. Fred picked me up when I spent the night crying on the floor of my bathroom. You were so unaffected."

"I did everything I could for you." He argued.

"No you didn't!" I said, "And you never did."

“I never cheated on you.” He reasoned.

I scoffed, “It took you two weeks, to go out and date her. I guess you didn’t cheat, but you’re still a traitor. You always said I’m never satisfied, but it’s not me, it’s you. ‘Cause all I ever wanted was to be enough for you. Did you love me? Want me? Hate me? I never understood. I tried so hard to be everything that you like. But you left me there crying, wondering what I did wrong.”

He sighed, “I’m selfish. I know, can’t let you go. So, find someone great but don’t find no one better. I hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier.”

“Why shouldn’t I be happier?” I asked, “Fred put the pieces of my heart back together when you broke it. He knew the truth even though I defended you from all my friends when you used me as an alibi. He never made me doubt myself. He filled the space in my heart that you failed to. Fred gave me my self worth and he promised to stay with me, he’s still yet to break that promise.”

Asher hung his head in defeat, “Well, I wish you all the best, really.”

I nodded, giving him a small smile, “And about Jessica, I hope that you’re okay.”

Once Asher left, Fred beamed at me, “I didn’t know that I had such an awesome wife.”

“Anyone else?” The minister asked, to which he was greeted by silence.

He then continued, “Do you, Fred Weasley, take Y/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.” Fred answered without a second thought.

“Do you, Y/N L/N, take Fred Weasley to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

I smiled, “I do.”

“With the power invested in me, you may now kiss the bride.”

—

“You’re doing amazing sweetheart.” Fred cooed, pressing a kiss to my sweaty forehead, “Just a few more pushes.”

I groaned as the pain flared in my stomach, “You did this to me you idiot!”

“Yeah.” He mused, “But you’re doing a wonderful job bringing our baby into the world.”

A cry soon echoed in the room as the Healer handed Fred his daughter, “Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Weasley! What’re you naming her?”

Fred and I shared a smile, “Malibu Weasley.”

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@lumosandnoxwriting @gostupid-godumb @famdomhideout @nova-darling @gaycatlord-stuff @pandaxnienke @escapingrealitybyreading @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @lunylovelovegood @thefallengodesse (Send a Message/Ask if you want to be added!)

[parkerslatte]

Never Assume

Alive!Luke Patterson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8k+

Summary: Luke has had a crush on (Y/N) for a while however every time she tries to talk to him, he dismisses her to not seem like an idiot by accidentally blurting out that he likes her. (Y/N) finally asks Luke why he doesn't like her.

MASTERLIST

*****

Luke Patterson had a crush on (Y/N) (L/N) and he had ever since he met her. Whenever she looked away, he was caught on multiple occasions by Julie, Alex and Reggie looking at her. Of course he always denied what he was doing, blaming it on zoning out but in reality, everyone knew the truth - well everyone but (Y/N). 

(Y/N) believed that Luke hated her. Whenever she would try to talk to him, he would dismiss her or only speak very few words to her. At first, she thought that he was tired or stressed but as soon as Julie, Alex or Reggie stepped into the room, he would perk up immediately. From then on (Y/N) assumed that Luke hated her. 

The reason why Luke ignored (Y/N) was because he didn’t want to make a fool out of himself in front of her. Everyone knew him as a boy who could flirt with any girl no problem, but when it came to (Y/N), he froze up, unable to form full sentences. Most of the time, when she was left alone in a room with Luke, (Y/N) would either walk out or play on her phone until the others came back. Whenever she walked out, Luke would feel bad, all he wanted to do was speak to her but he was afraid that when he opened his mouth, he would have no control over what he was saying and blurt out that he liked her. 

However, the times when (Y/N) stayed in the room, Luke would constantly look over to her. He would notice the way her eyes narrowed when she tried to read something on the phone screen. He noticed the tap of her foot when she had a certain song stuck in her head. He noticed the way she would blow air out of her nose when she found something funny. He noticed all the things he had grown to love about the girl.

(Y/N) sat in band practice. The band had a gig coming up and they needed to rehearse, the (L/N) girl was their biggest supporter, always turning up to every gig they played. The band had tried to convince the girl multiple times to join the band - she had the voice of an angel, however the girl refused every time, preferring to help Flynn out behind the scenes. 

Julie sang the last note of Bright and (Y/N) jumped up and clapped the band. She had probably heard that song at least a hundred times by now but she enjoyed it every time. She rushed up to Reggie and gave him a hug, followed by Julie and then finally Alex. (Y/N) returned to her seat not even looking in Luke’s direction. However, she missed the hurt look on his face as (Y/N) didn’t even spare him a second glance.

“That was amazing guys!” (Y/N) exclaimed.

“You say that after every song.” Julie chuckled at her friend's excitement.

“I know but you’re all just so talented. Like it’s unreal.” (Y/N) said sitting back down in her seat.

“You’re talented as well, (Y/N), remember our offer still stands.” Alex spoke from behind the drums.

“Yeah, your vocals combined with Julie’s - we would be unstoppable.” Reggie said.

(Y/N) smiled at the boy, “I’ve told you before, I prefer to be behind the scenes and besides, I definitely wouldn’t have the confidence,” (Y/N) shifted her gaze slightly towards Luke who was tuning his guitar not paying attention to the conversation, “But I also thing someone doesn’t want me in the band.” (Y/N) mumbled the last part, however Julie still heard it, she frowned. 

Julie, Alex and Reggie knew about Luke’s feelings for (Y/N), no matter how many times he denied it, they could tell that he was in love with her. The three of them had noticed his longing glances, when (Y/N) wasn’t around, Luke would always try to find ways to slip her name into the conversation, and he was the one who wanted to invite (Y/N) into the band in the first place. Everyone was aware of Luke’s feelings towards (Y/N) - all except for (Y/N) herself.

“Anyway, it’s getting late, I should really head home.” (Y/N) says.

“You can stay here another night, my dad won’t mind.” Julie says.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” (Y/N) replied.

“It’s fine, you know that he won’t mind. I mean for a few weeks you basically moved in.” Julie chuckled.

(Y/N) smiled at her friend, “Okay, but I need to borrow some clothes.”

“Go on ahead, I’ll catch up in a second.” Julie says. (Y/N) bids the boys a goodnight before leaving the studio and making her way to the house. 

Once (Y/N) was gone and out of earshot, Julie turned to Luke with her arms folded, “Why are you acting like this?

Luke looked up to her confused, “Acting like what?”

“You’re ignoring (Y/N). You like her so why are you ignoring her?” Julie questioned, “And before you even try to deny it, I won’t believe it for one second.”

Luke looked between Alex and Reggie silently asking for help but the two shared the same look as Julie. Luke sighed, “Alright, I do like her but I’m afraid that if I talk to her, I’ll just screw up and look like an idiot.”

“And you’d think she'd care?” Julie questioned, “Luke, she liked you, she told me that herself.”

“Wait, what do you mean liked?” Luke asked.

Julie sighed, “Well, you’ve been ignoring her every time she tries to talk to you, you never participate in any conversation (Y/N) is in, but I know you’re listening.” Julie said.

Luke sighed and leant forward resting his elbows on his knees, “So I screwed up without even saying anything? Great, the one time I really liked a girl and she doesn't even like me anymore because I was being an idiot.” 

“I never said she didn’t like you anymore,” Julie says, “I don’t know if she still does, but it’s worth a shot, Luke. You need to try before she distances herself from you even more than she already has.”

Luke jumped up to his feet, “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“What now?” Alex questioned.

“Yes, if she is distancing herself from me, I don’t know what I would do.” Luke confessed and left Julie, Alex and Reggie in the studio in pursuit of (Y/N).

Luke wandered into the house and made his way up to Julie’s bedroom. At this moment, he may look composed but on the inside, his heart was hammering against his rib cage. Each step he took towards Julie’s room felt like a mile, he was tempted to turn back multiple times but he marched on. He knocked on the door.

“Julie, it’s your room, you don’t need to knock-” (Y/N) stopped talking, realising that it wasn’t Julie, it was Luke, “Oh, hi.” (Y/N) turned back towards the drawer she was looking through. 

“Hi.” Luke said quietly.

(Y/N) wanted to know what Luke was doing here. He was meant to hate her, so why was he coming to see her. The girl frowned at the thought of the word ‘hated’. (Y/N), herself hated the fact that Luke disliked her. She knew it sound stupid to have a crush on the boy that hated you, but (Y/N) just couldn’t help herself.

“Why do you hate me?” The question came out of (Y/N)’s mouth before she had a chance to stop herself.

Luke looked towards the girl in shock, “What? I don’t hate you (Y/N). What makes you think that?”

(Y/N) turned around to face Luke, “You ignore me Luke. Every time I tried to make conversation with you, you would either dismiss my comment or give me a one word reply. I really don’t know what I did wrong. I tried so many times to get you to talk to me, and right now is the most you’ve spoken to me in weeks.”

Luke stared at the girl. He had never wanted to make her believe he hated her. He hated himself for making her feel that way, “I don’t hate you, (Y/N).”

“Then why do you act the way you do when you’re around me?”

“Because I was afraid I would mess up.” Luke stated.

“Mess up? What do you mean mess up?” (Y/N) questioned.

Without realising he was doing it, Luke began to slowly step towards (Y/N), “I was afraid I would mess up and you would think that I was an idiot.”

“Luke, you’re not making any sense.” (Y/N) folded her arms across her chest, she hoped it would help with the nervous thumping of her heart.

“(Y/N), the reason why I acted the way I did was because I like you. I was afraid to talk to you in case I messed things up by blurting out that I liked you.” Luke confessed. 

(Y/N)’e eyes blinked open and close for a moment, wanting to make sure that what Luke said was real and not just a figment of her imagination, “Wha-what?”

Luke took a deep breath, “I like you, (Y/N).”

(Y/N)’s eyes flicked back and forth between his, trying to figure out if he was lying or not. 

“Well, are you going to say something?” Luke asked softly. 

“I liked you, Luke,” (Y/N) said, “I liked you and you ignored me, dismissed everything I had to say and do you know what the worst part was.”

Luke was afraid of the answer but he asked anyway, “What?”

“I never stopped.” Before Luke could process anything, (Y/N)’s lips were on his, her hands placed on his chest. It took Luke a moment to catch up to the present. His arms held (Y/N)’s waist lightly, his thumb occasionally brushing over the bit of exposed skin from where her shirt had ridden up. (Y/N) manoeuvred her hands from his chest and clasped them behind his head. Luke’s grip on her waist tightened, pulling her closer to him. He couldn’t believe this was happening. 

(Y/N) was the first to pull away from Luke. She looked at him in the eye. He looked down at her, adoration shown in his features. (Y/N) smiled at him and he smiled at her. 

“I don’t hate you, and I’m sorry for ever making you think I did.” Luke mumbled, pulling (Y/N) closer into a hug. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” (Y/N) mumbled against his neck, “Even if you did screw up, I wouldn’t have minded. I would never judge you Luke.”

Luke placed a small kiss on (Y/N)’s neck before burying his head into her shoulder, “I’m lucky to have you.”

[alrightberries]

strawberries and cigarettes (always taste like you)

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: angst ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: Levi celebrates Christmas Eve the only way he knew how: getting drunk and high on a rooftop while thinking about you.

❈ trigger warnings: drinking and smoking. mentions of violence, gore, blood and death. brief mention of sex. profanity.

a/n: canon compliant but also kinda not? idk if they have cigarettes in the aot/snk universe or if they celebrate christmas so just roll with it.

Smoke puffed out of Levi’s lips, slowly dissipating in the chilly December night. The breeze that passed by caused goosebumps to rise on his skin, a product of the winter’s unforgiving coldness, and the thought of getting off the rooftop where he sat in silence briefly crossed his mind. His office wasn’t that far and it wouldn’t take that long to quickly grab his coat, but the longer he stayed and stared at the dark sky, the more he found himself not caring about the cold breeze or the below zero temperatures. 

He took another puff from the cigarette in his hand, eyes drifting towards the barracks where the rest of the regiment most likely was at this hour. The torches and lamps scattered around the base glowed a warm orange-y yellow, a contrast to the whites and blues of the snow and darkness. It looked gorgeous, almost, and Levi silently chuckled to himself at the sickening thought of finding anything beautiful at this fucked up time of year.

Christmas Eve.

A time for friends. A time for family. A time for people to gather around the fireplace and drink warm beverages as they sang songs, told stories, and eagerly waited for the stroke of midnight to open and exchange their gifts.

What a load of bullshit.

Christmas Eve was Levi’s version of a pain in the ass. It was a holiday filled with a bunch of cadets greeting him with a warm and cheery ‘Merry Christmas, Captain’ every time he passed them in the halls, and he would only respond with either silence or a brief nod of acknowledgement. Not to mention, it was also the time where Hanji would try to get him to celebrate different festivities in an attempt to cheer him up. 

It was technically a week-long headache for Levi, with the eccentric soldier- for an entire seven days prior to Christmas- trying just about everything in the book in attempts to get him to sit around the fire with the other squad leaders or even do something as small as switch out tea for hot chocolate to match the holiday spirit. It seemed like Hanji’s excessive invitations would always get worse around Christmas Eve, but of course, it never worked.

Levi took a swig of the whiskey he’d brought with him onto the rooftop, extinguishing the cigarette he was holding and lighting a new one once it had reached its end, before taking another deep inhale of the stick of nicotine.

Indeed, Christmas Eve was nothing but a pain for Levi.

Perhaps Hanji thought of him as lonely. Maybe Erwin had even just half a mind to worry about his well-being. But truth be told, Levi did celebrate Christmas Eve in his own little way: at around 10 o’clock at night, without fail, Levi would make his way onto the highest rooftop of their current base carrying nothing but whiskey, nicotine, and strawberries. From there, he would drink and smoke until midnight came, at which point he would start to eat the strawberries he’d brought. Then he would drink and smoke some more until he felt like his liver couldn’t handle it anymore, before eventually making his way back to his quarters at 4 o’clock in the morning and attempt to get his drunk and high mind to rest.

It was his fucked up little Christmas Eve tradition. 

The first year Hanji had noticed that Levi wasn’t around the base for their Christmas Eve celebration, they went around asking people if anyone had seen him, to which everyone would reply with ‘No, I haven’t seen him, sorry.’ When the second year came around, Hanji once again noticed that Levi was gone and no one had seemed to know where he was. So when the third year came around, they waited for him to leave his office and stealthily followed him around the base to find out exactly where Levi runs off to during the holidays. Hanji got caught, of course, and by the third time they’d gotten caught (and almost strangled each time) they knew it was best to stick to pestering him rather than following him.

Levi grimaced at the memories of Hanji trying to follow him around, him sensing it immediately and going around the base in an attempt to shake them off his tail, failing, and eventually just resorting to telling them off (Oi, four-eyes, how much longer do you plan to stalk me like a creepy old pervert?)

He sighed.

He wasn’t always like this. He used to enjoy Christmas Eve and doing all the cliche holiday traditions that came with it; sitting around the fireplace with Isabel and Farlan and playing the guitar, pretending not to care about their tone-deaf voices as they sang their own version of holiday songs, never really knowing the lyrics but knowing the tune and making up words to accompany the melody as they go.

Where did he go wrong?

It was around his second bottle of whiskey and his second (or third? He couldn’t remember but didn’t really care at this point) packet of cigarettes when Levi’s fuzzy mind would finally unlock the memories he’d kept at the very back of his mind- a place where he couldn’t reach them and they couldn’t reach him. Memories he’d repressed years ago, never to be thought of, never to see the light of day. Except on Christmas Eve.

He closed eyes as he exhaled, lying down on the rooftop’s snow-covered shingles as he carefully set down the bottle of whiskey next to him, just within his reach. He went through cherry-picked memories of his life Underground once again, relishing in the warmth and happiness he once felt when he was with Isabel and Farlan. But at the very corner of each memory, always within his peripheral vision, was a fuzzy character- a person, no doubt- laughing. Smiling. Holding his hand. Playing with his hair. Kissing him good night. Bandaging his wounds. Showing him tricks with a knife. Making tea. Talking with Isabel and Farlan.

He took another swig of the bottle of whiskey, eager to make the fuzzy memory vivid in a way that only the drink that burned his throat could do. His heart skipped a beat as the blurry edges and lines he’d superimposed into his own mind cleared and revealed the one person that made this living hell a bit less terrible, and the only reason why he ever did his little Christmas Eve tradition.

For a moment, it felt like he was floating on air as he finally got a good look at the character that he’d tried so hard to erase from his mind but never could. His mind may have forgotten but his body still remembered, and he felt the tips of his fingers tingle not from the cold but from the memories of a touch, a touch so endearing, a touch so warm, a touch that felt like home. A touch that was unmistakably you.

Mind fuzzy from the alcohol and head just a little light from the nicotine, Levi can faintly remember the moments he’d shared with you during his time in the Underground.

He remembers being homeless after Kenny had left him, then meeting you as you both ran into each other- quite literally, at that- when you stole bread from a bakery and made a run for it as two angry adults chased after you, cutting him a deal that if he helped you get out of it alive then you would share your measly loaf of bread with him. He remembers teaming up with you from that day onward and watching each others’ backs, sleeping in alleyways and taking shifts for safety, rummaging through garbage cans for food before Levi decided that enough was enough and robbing a stall so you both could eat that day. 

Faintly, he also remembers the day he joined a gang that promised him food, shelter, and a steady paying job if he could prove how strong he was by beating up a rival gang member. He remembers getting jumped by three other people as he beat up the man he was told to pummel, fighting them off and winning without so much as a sweat. He remembers the gang he wanted to join eagerly inviting him after the fact, and he agreed on the condition that you came along too.

He remembers the first time he’d taken a shower after years of being filthy, and how clean and fresh he felt without the dirt and grime caking his clothes and his skin. He remembers hearing the door to his small room open- knowing that it was you- and turning around so he could marvel at how clean he felt. But his words died on his tongue as he took a look at you, hair clean, face visible, dirt free, and looking ever-gorgeous in the clothes he’d bought you the day before using his blood money. The clothes weren’t fancy in any way at all, just simple clothes that he bought on a whim when he realized that you’d been wearing the same unwashed garments for years, but he remembers it was enough for him to decide that, even though he didn’t understand what it meant when his heart sped up and the tips of his ears started to burn whenever he was around you, he liked looking at you when were clean. He liked being clean.

He remembers the first time you kissed him. He was sat on the bed of your shared room, gritting his teeth as you stitched up a cut on his forehead and berated him for being so careless, being too confident, on one of the jobs his boss had assigned him. He finished the job, of course, his ability to get the job done without fail being the main reason why he was assigned so many assignments in the first place, but it didn’t make you less angry when he walked into the room with bruised knuckles and a large gash on his forehead. He remembers staying silent, breathing through the pain of what was essentially surgery with no anesthesia as your berating slowly died down and he could finally see in your eyes the worry you tried to conceal with anger. He remembers taking your hand in his after you’d finished cleaning up the materials you used to administer first aid, gently pulling you down to sit next to him as your hands reached out and cradled his face, careful not to touch the freshly sewn skin as he slowly leaned in until his lips met yours.

He remembers the first time he had sex with you, how it was nothing short of awkward and clumsy as two teenagers tried to figure out what goes where and how to do this and that. You were both each others’ first, that much he knew, and though the first time wasn’t as hot and steamy as everyone had worked it out to be, he still enjoyed it because it was you. He remembers cradling you in his arms that night as you fell asleep, a small smile on your peaceful face, and he made his first silent promise that night: that he’d do anything within his power to keep you safe and happy.

He remembers Farlan and the support he gave as Levi worked his way up to a higher position in the gang’s ranks, inevitably becoming the leader through his skills and hard work (a result of the second silent promise he’d made to himself: that he would work hard and become successful enough that you wouldn’t have to lift a finger to live a decent life.) He remembers taking you out of your small shared bedroom and moving you to an actual house that you could call your own; it was barren and filthy and needed a lot of tender love and care, but it didn’t matter- as long as you were with him, he was home. 

He remembers getting his hands on some ODM gear through the black market, training Farlan to become his right-hand man as you stayed within the base and administered first-aid to any member of his gang that needed it. He refused to let you learn how to use the gear, fearing that if you were to be seen doing his dirty work with him then you would become a target of both rival gangs and the Military Police. You didn’t mind, perfectly comfortable with staying at home and handling the more business side of things that involved pay distributions and document blackmails.

He remembers meeting Isabel that fateful day she barged into your home, scaring away the thugs who chased after her and accepting her into the group, your odd little family of dysfunctional orphans now complete.

He remembers spending Christmas Eve with his little family, sitting around the fireplace as you laughed at one of Farlan and Isabel’s stories, hand tightly clutching his as he silently reveled in the peace and happiness he managed to find in the least happy and least peaceful city within the walls. He remembers you telling him to close his eyes as the clock struck midnight, eagerly placing a cardboard box on his hands and apologizing for not wrapping it because you couldn’t afford the wrapping paper anymore, money already spent on the gift itself. He remembers his heart swelling as he opened the box, a beautiful porcelain tea set staring back at him as Isabel and Farlan proudly proclaimed that they also got him a copper kettle and some quality tea leaves to match your gift. He remembers scolding the three of you for spending so much money on such lavish gifts, but you dismissed him and said that it was alright, the little extravagance and months of saving being well worth his present for Christmas and his birthday (which were, coincidentally, the same day).

He remembers the Christmas Eve after that. He remembers the three of you shyly apologizing for not getting him a gift, still recovering from your lavish spending the year before, and he said it didn’t matter because he bought whiskey and cigarettes to share. Faintly, he could still hear Farlan asking him what the hell cigarettes were, and he explained that since the whiskey itself was expensive, he couldn’t afford cigars and instead opted for the cheaper synthetic version of it. He remembers being sat on the roof as you laughed and drank and smoked until sunlight peeked through the gutters on the ceiling of the Underground, clumsily making your way back inside your home to sleep (really, it was mostly you, Isabel, and Farlan who were clumsy. Levi had a high alcohol tolerance and though he grumbled about having to always babysit the three of you when you drank, he always made sure that you were all tucked into bed and snoring away before he himself went to sleep.) He remembers it becoming a tradition for your little family, something that you did every Christmas Eve after that.

He remembers the mysterious nobleman who sat in his little carriage, offering a job to Isabel, Farlan, and himself in return for a generous fee and citizenship to Wall Sina. He remembers rushing home and relaying the news to you as you held his hand, happy that they would be able to go above ground, a privilege that few had. He remembers kissing your forehead and promising to use the money that came with the job to buy you citizenship as well, promising that he would take you above ground and show you the sky. He remembers you crying, tears of joy falling down your face as you kissed him, silently thanking whatever higher being there was that you met Levi.

He remembers his last day in the Underground, gearing up with Isabel and Farlan as they prepared to execute their plan of getting “arrested” by the Survey Corps and taken above ground to finish the job. He remembers your sad eyes and the way you tried to conceal them with a smile, yet he saw right through your act and promised he’d be back for you. He remembers sarcastically asking what souvenir you wanted for him to bring back after the job was done, and you kissed his nose before saying you wanted strawberries, a rare delicacy in the Underground but commonly found above. He remembers agreeing, giving you one last kiss farewell before they set out to do the job.

He remembers sitting on the barracks’ rooftop with Isabel and Farlan, admiring the heavens. He remembers being in awe of how beautiful the moon and stars were, the way they twinkled and shined in the darkness of the night. It was the first time any of them had ever seen the sky. He remembers smiling as he sat between his two closest friends, a feeling of wonder and serenity washing over him as he made another silent promise to himself that night: that he would show you the sky the way he sees it now, with your little family.

He remembers the horror he felt the day after when he rushed back to Isabel and Farlan in the battlefield, finding nothing but Isabel’s severed head and Farlan’s torso on the ground. He remembers the pain, the anguish, the despair that ran through him as he yelled and cried, killing the titan that murdered his friends and ripped away half of his family before collapsing on the ground, realizing that there was no point because he was too late. He remembers Erwin telling him that he knew what he was up to all along, but he was more than welcome to stay in the Survey Corps if he so desired. He remembers agreeing numbly, mind still reeling at his loss. He remembers realizing it had almost been an entire year since he last saw you, but he was too ashamed and in too much grief to come back empty-handed. He had failed the job. He had no money. He had no citizenship for you. And he didn’t have Isabel and Farlan anymore.

He remembers working hard for the next couple of months, realizing that the longer he stayed alive the more money they would pay him. He remembers the day he realized he finally had enough money to buy you citizenship, immediately requesting for time off on Christmas Eve, planning to finally come back to you and fulfill his silent promises. He remembers stopping by the local market, buying a fresh basket of strawberries as an apology for making you wait so long (and also because he still remembered your request), before heading to the Underground the day before Christmas to surprise you.

He remembers feeling nervous yet giddy as he walked to the location of your home, thoughts of finally seeing you for the first time in so long filling up his mind. Nervousness was replaced with worry the closer he got to your home, and he realized that something was horribly wrong. He rushed to the house, fresh bodies littering the front steps as he tried not to step on them. Blood dripped around him, and he knew that whatever happened, happened recently. The door was already open, and Levi wasn’t sure what he was expecting as he cautiously stepped inside but he already feared the worst. Just then, he heard a loud thump followed by a groan coming from your shared bedroom, and Levi rushed inside. He remembers the way his heart stopped at the sight he saw: you, bleeding out on the floor, multiple stab wounds on your abdomen and struggling to breathe. He remembers dropping the basket he held, strawberries scattering around the floor as he rushed to your side, fear turning into panic as he clutched you in his arms.

“Levi,” he remembered you whispering with a weak smile. Your hand reached out to brush a stray strand of hair away from his face. “You came back.”

He remembers scoffing because of course he came back. He promised you he would.

He remembers trying to put pressure on your wounds but not knowing where to start because you had been stabbed so many times and there was only so much he could do since he only had two hands. He remembers you trying to stop him, telling him it was no use. He remembers yelling at you to shut up, okay? You’re not fucking dying on me. Not now. Not ever. 

He doesn’t remember crying, however. But he does remember you reaching out once more to wipe at his cheeks, and he was briefly aware that somehow his cheeks had gotten wet. He remembers you holding his hands that were still trying to put pressure on the wounds, begging him to stop, Levi, please. You and I both know it’s no use. 

He remembers the unmistakable sound of a grandfather clock’s bell, signaling the strike of midnight. He remembers holding your hand as you weakly looked up at his face, a small smile on your lips as you whispered “Merry Christmas and a happy birthday to you, Levi. I love you.” before your hands fell limp in his. 

He remembers collapsing, yelling out your name as he held your corpse in his arms. He remembers shifting, feeling an empty basket bumping against his leg, and he’s suddenly reminded of the strawberries he’d brought as he rushed to gather them all up with shaky hands and put them in the basket once more. “I brought you strawberries, just like you asked.” He remembered saying, pathetically placing it down next to your head. But it was too late. He was too late.

It was gang activity, most likely retaliation. He remembered the Military Police saying. You’re lucky, actually. They left just a couple minutes before you arrived.

He doesn’t remember what happened after that.

But he does remember that he broke all of his promises to you. He remembers that you never even knew that Isabel and Farlan were dead. He remembers that you never even got to see the sky or breathe in the fresh air. He remembers that you never even got to know what strawberries taste like. He remembers that he was too late. For you. For Farlan. For Isabel. 

He was always too late.

The feeling of something cold and wet on his cheeks snapped Levi from his reverie. He sat up, silently cursing the snow that fell on his face as his hands wiped at his cheeks, letting go of the bottle of whiskey in favor of blindly looking for the strawberries he’d brought up with him onto the roof. He felt numb. He wasn’t sure if it was due to the cold, the alcohol, the nicotine, or his own heartbreak at the memories he tried to suppress. He never allowed himself any time to mourn, instead choosing to keep all those memories under lock and key somewhere within the dark crevices of his mind, only to be opened on Christmas Eve, the day he lost it all.

The day he lost his entire family.

He shifts, suddenly aware of the small box in his pocket. As he took out and opened the small black velvety box, he noticed more snowflakes had melted on his cheeks, the gold ring staring back at his face for a few moments before he angrily closed it once more and shoved it back inside his pockets, its weight feeling as heavy as his heart.

He was too late.

Silently, Levi realizes that snow wasn’t falling. He realizes that the wet on his cheeks isn’t from the snow melting on his face, but rather, from his own tears as they slowly came down in gentle streams.

The bell tower rang throughout the base, signaling the stroke of midnight. Bitterly, he took a bite of the strawberries as he lied down once more, reaching for the bottle of whiskey.

Merry Christmas and a happy fucking birthday to me.

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[captainsimagines]

“I Could Fall in Love”

Happy Valentine’s Day!

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

BUCKY BARNES X READER DRABBLE

Warnings: none, simply fluff!

Word Count: 3000+

Song Fanfic: Listen and enjoy!

~

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

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

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

     And that you did. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “No, I don’t see your point.”

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

    Okay, she hit that spot-on. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “Done.”

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

“I could lose my heart tonight

If you don’t turn and walk away

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

Because the way I feel I might

Lose control and let you stay

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

Because I could, take you in my arms

And never let go

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

I could fall, in love, with you

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

I could only wonder how touching you

Would make me feel

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

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

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

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

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

But if I take that chance right now

Tomorrow will you want me still?

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

     “Nice pajamas.”

     “Shut up.”

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

So I should, keep this to myself

And never let you know

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

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

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

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

     You rolled your eyes, “Always.”

I could fall, in love, with you

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

      “We share a Spotify account, doll.”

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

      “Exactly. It’s quite the tearjerker.”

And I know it’s not right

And I guess I should try

To do what I should do

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

But I fall in love, with you

So I should, keep this to myself

And never let you know

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

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

Siempre estoy soñando en ti

Besando mis labios, acariciando mi piel

Abrazándome con ansias locas

Imaginando que me amas

Como yo podía amar a ti

[I am always dreaming of you

Kissing my lips and touching my skin

Anxiously hugging me

Imagining that you love me

Like how I love you]

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

     “Oh, wow.”

      Bucky smiled, “What?”

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

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

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

     “You love me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I could fall, in love

With you.”

~

Happy Valentine’s Day. All the love. xxMoni

[musclesandhammering]

Non-Controversial Loki Headcanons for These Trying Times

1.) Loki has had dozens of Midgard-based aliases over the years, for no other reason than the fact that he was bored and it was funny. DB Cooper was one of them. Hank Williams was another. He may or may not have even pretended to be a vampire at some point.

2.) Loki can definitely sing. Not just in a funny ironic way, but like.. he actually enjoys singing. It shouldn’t even come as a surprise considering he’s such a fine arts nerd, but yeah. He plays the guitar too. Surprisingly folksy.

3.) Loki’s rooms in Asgard literally look like a witch’s lair. I mean straight up spooky. All dark earth tones, spellbooks strewn everywhere, runes drawn on the walls to keep certain big brothers from messing with things they have no business messing with, vials of poisonous stuff sitting on every available surface, shelves full of strange little trinkets and talismans, a dramatic ass medieval-looking bed, a whole ass cauldron… and then in the corner on a stand there’s his Hank Williams Guitar aasdfghhjkl-

4.) When people call Loki a witch, they’re not joking. He’s. Like. An actual stereotypical, like.. witch. He doesn’t just do finger wavy magic- he mixes potions, he does rune work, he recites spells, he has a cauldron.

5.) He also used to dress super witchy. Used to. Past tense. I’m talking black nail polish, lots of necklaces, rings, eyes makeup (ok maybe I wouldn’t go that far, but Loki in eyeliner would be pretty hot, right?), clothes that were like.. 15% scarier yet more fashionable than the ones he wears in canon. The only reason he toned it down was because someone whose opinion he cared about (it was Thor) made a joking comment about his appearance looking “wicked” or “evil” and it made him feel self conscious, so he changed how he dressed. :(

6.) He was rocking the whole short hair look years before Thor in Ragnarok. In fact, by pre-canon Loki’s standards, his hair in Thor 1 was even a bit too long. He did this because a.) he hates how his natural curls soften him and will do anything to get rid of them and b.) in Asgard short hair wasn’t really worn by noblemen because it symbolised servitude, so this was Loki’s subtle way of being defiant and deviating from the norm.

7.) As Frigga said in Endgame, Loki is very good at sneaking. Even when he’s not trying to. There have been many-an-accident in the Palace of Asgard because he unintentionally almost gave Thor a heart attack.

8.) Loki and Thor weren’t always at each other���s throats. They actually got along pretty well up until Odin started planning for the coronation. Loki was still jealous of the way Thor was treated compared to the way he was treated, but he knew that wasn’t Thor’s fault- not really. And Thor was still arrogant and entitled, but that was mostly directed at other people and not his own family, so while Loki knew about Thor’s character flaws, it didn’t really effect him personally. When the planning started, though, Thor gradually became even more superior and insufferable than normal, and Loki became even more bitter and unsettled, and their relationship just kind of went downhill from there.

9.) Loki absolutely joined the Mile High Club with that flight attendant from the first episode of the show. Her name was Florence and she was adorable, Loki thought so too.

10.) Loki’s the only person on Asgard who can beat Volstagg at an eating competition. He has a giant’s metabolism, after all. And, contrary to his elegant and refined tastes in most other areas, he’s actually a straight-up carnivore. I mean he eats other foods too, obviously, but meats are by far his favourites. Boar, fish, poultry, steak. Just meats. He doesn’t know it, but this is because frost giants are mostly carnivorous.

11.) His relationship with the Warriors 4 was always split down the middle. He and Sif always hated each other. Hogun never trusted him and Loki never had any interest in spending time with Hogun. Fandral and Volstagg, on the other hand, were always much nicer and Loki always sort of considered them his friends as well as Thor’s. This is why they were more reluctant to believe that he’d let the frost giants in in Thor 1.

12.) I refuse to believe Loki doesn’t have at least one tattoo somewhere. Probably more. Probably of a snake. The only parts of his body we didn’t see naked in Episode 1 were his thighs, lower back, knee area, pelvic region, and the back of his neck. So it’s gotta be in one of those places. (Might I suggest: snake thigh tattoo, tiny nape tat, goth tramp stamp lol, rune tat behind his ear, Norse mythos leg tat, badass above-dick tattoo).

13.) Loki’s prickly and insecure and has layers like an onion, but once you get to the point of actually being friends with him, he’s a total sweetheart. I mean a literal smol dork. A bit hyperactive and excitable, but still very very soft. It’s because he’s had so few actual friends in his life.

14.) Sometimes Loki only goes a few days before his gender changes, sometimes he stays one gender for years at a time. And he tends to shapeshift his body to match. That being said, one of his biggest pet peeves is how his other-gendered clothes get all dusty and musty when they have to stay in the closet for long stretches of time. So he’s taken to wearing luxurious gowns around the house when he’s in his male form. You know, just to air them out.

15.) Loki hates sleeping with people. Sex is fine, but he’s just so solitary and paranoid that he’s never been comfortable sleeping in a bed with another person. This may or may not have gotten him in trouble a few times when his partners woke up and found him gone lol.

16.) Laufey is actually incredibly similar to Loki, the way Odin is very similar to Thor. He prefers smaller blades (ice daggers), he’s very analytical and calculating, he’s very calm and non-confrontational even when he’s in a stressful situation, and tbh he seems like a better king than Odin- much like Loki probably would’ve been a better kind than Thor. (Whoopsie this one’s a bit controversial)

17.) Loki adores animals! …But he’s also a bit obsessive about keeping his environment clean. Not organised, per se, just clean. And animals tend to be hairy and slobbery and feathery and slimy and poopy and dirty, so he’s never been able to have a pet. He just takes a lot of nature walks to compensate :)

18.) All jotuns are naturally intersex, including Loki. This is a bit unusual for Asgardians, but because Loki is genderfluid and a natural-born shapeshifter- and has always had a tendency to change his body parts around as his gender changes (male, female, both, neither)- he’s never had a reason to find it very odd. In hindsight, that was one of the many eccentricities that should have made him realise something was a little fishy with his “asgardian” genetics.

19.) The snake + stabbing story from Ragnarok was nowhere near as nefarious as Thor made it seem. What actually happened was: Someone accidentally mixed a real knife in with the blunted practice knives. Thor and Loki didn’t know this, of course, and when they were playing a battle game, Loki ended up with the real knife. When Loki “won” and went to “vanquish his enemy” he ended up actually stabbing Thor for real. They were both hysterical and it took longer to calm Loki down than his brother. It ended up just being a flesh wound, though, so everything turned out fine.

20.) A lot of people think Loki discovered his “secret passageways between worlds” from TDW through some sort of inter-realm questing or magical study or something, but in reality, he discovered them when he was like 16 and desperately trying to find a way to sneak out of Asgard without Heimdall telling his parents.

Tagging @natures-marvel & @little-s-creampuff for expressing interest. Thx for listening to my mad ravings lmao <3

[caffeinated-cryptid]

ashes, ashes.

10.8k | AO3 link | tags/tws: intrulogical, serial killer/deity of death au, lots of death (murder, mentions of a previous suicide attempt, and brief descriptions of animal death), injury, violence, swearing, morally grey characters, crime.

““You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” Logan blurted out with a start, eyes wide and looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-

“Mamma always told me I was special.” Remus replied with a woozy grin, leaving back against the cool bricks of the alleyway. Seeing things that weren’t there was a new level of fucked-up for his brain, but hopefully that was just a side effect of hitting his head and not something he’d have to take pills for later. Either way, at least this spectre was pretty to look at. Trauma had its benefits.

“You think a deity of death is pretty?” Logan asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.””

(aka: remus chases death like it's his favourite pastime, since it means he gets to see logan again. understandably, logan has some objections to this.)

--------------

Case 1: the man in the alley.

The first time Remus and Logan met, it was more or less a complete accident.

As a part-time warehouse operative slash freelance artist, Remus had a lot of free time between jobs, and one of the things he enjoyed doing most while waiting for his next gig to come around was spray-painting obscene images into the side of alleys. 

His latest project was a 7-foot tall purple unicorn with generous proportions. Pretty tasteful by his standards, all things considered.

If nothing else, the piece of work would give passers-by a topic of conversation, and that was always something Remus aimed to inspire with his art. These topics, however, often happened to be the ‘why’ variety. Most commonly, the old classic (and his personal favourite): ‘why are you like this?’.

Regrettably, the evening passed pretty quickly with no curious pedestrians passing by his alley and starting up such a conversation. By the time Remus finished, it was past midnight and by now the only people around were the regular nightlife-- primarily the local college kids who had recently come home and were enjoying their break from classes, and adults like himself who were trying to chase away their loneliness with some other kind of high.

...Woo, and that’s enough depressing thoughts for tonight. Remus declared to himself. After all, he had a new piece to admire! Stepping back, he spent a moment taking in the completed artwork by the light of his phone’s torch before deciding it was as perfect as it could get. He’d come back later and get a picture during the daytime to show off to his friends, so for now he begun preparing to leave by packing his paint cans into his backpack.

It was when he had collected the last can of magenta from the ground that he felt something grab the back of his coat hood. Remus had no time to process the fact that someone had snuck into the alleyway before he was shoved against the same wall he'd painted his mural on, coming face-to-face with a hooded man waving a rather pathetic-looking pocket knife at him.

“Give me your money. Now.” The man demanded.

Remus blinked in delayed surprise. Usually he was the one being the creep in the alleyway. He had never expected to come across an actual creep. Heck, this situation felt like it was pulled straight out of an old PSA with how stereotypical it was.

“What?” He blurted out unthinkingly, because of that exact train of thought. 

“You heard me! I want you to get your wallet and hand over everything you’ve got.”

What an unfortunate victim this man has chosen.

“You think I have any money to my name? I’m practically the starving artist every parent warns their kid about becoming.” Remus said with a huff of amusement.

“Don’t try to bullshit me!” The hand clutching the front of his coat tugged him forward before violently slamming him back against the bricks. The back of Remus’ head ricochetted off them roughly with the sudden movement, and the small grin he had been wearing quickly faded with flash of pain and the realization he may actually be in trouble.

“I saw the paint you’ve got in your bag,” The man continued over his dawning concern. “Somebody who’s broke wouldn’t have all that.”

Remus’ thoughts halted for a second. His bag…! He knew the paint can he was holding onto for dear life wouldn’t do much in the way of self-defense given that it was practically empty, but a whole bag of them? Hitting this guy with that much weight would make him think twice about trying to stab him, at least.

“Okay, okay. You got me, I’m rich as hell. Just let me get it, alright? My wallet's in there.”

The man gave him a skeptical look, but stepped back slightly, continuing to hold the weapon in his direction. “I know how to throw knives. Try to run and you’ll have a hole in your back quicker than an onset stroke.”

Yikes, and Remus thought he was bad at metaphors. He didn’t even need Virgil here to tell him that that made no sense. Still, he grinned placatingly. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye: I won’t run.”

Finally, bad-metaphor guy let down his guard and allowed Remus to side-step around him. He walked a few paces towards where he dropped his backpack in his initial shock, putting the magenta spray in before he picked it up by the straps. True to his word, he didn't run; instead he swung around on his heel, slamming the full force of his hardback sketchbooks and cans of spray paint into the face of the hooded man.

He instantly dropped his knife, falling backwards and clutching his nose as blood erupted from it. Under the low-lighting of the street lamp, Remus was transfixed for a second, feeling like he was in one of those gritty r-rated movies he watched with his babysitter as a kid. The moment was ruined when he realized that 1) the man was approaching again very quickly, and 2) he couldn’t get the momentum quick enough to swing his bag around and hit him a second time.

Before he knew it, Remus had accidentally let go of the makeshift weapon when he was tackled to the ground, wind completely knocked out of him as the two of them collided against cobblestone moistened with rain.

“You fucking bastard.” The guy hissed furiously. His voice was nasally now that his nose was crooked and broken-looking, and Remus almost wanted to poke fun of him for it until he felt two hands wrap around his throat and start to choke him. “‘Could’ve just made things easy, but now you’re gonna die with all the other trash.”

Why? Remus wanted to ask. Over the 7 dollars and 15 cents he had?

But as he tried to tear away the vice grip on his neck, he couldn’t find the voice to talk back, even though the seriousness of the situation was hitting him like a freight train. Maybe it was his own fault for escalating things instead of playing along. Go figure, he had overestimated his own abilities after years being the off-putting one; the person others thought they had to watch over their shoulder for. Either that, or maybe it was the fact that his wallet carried more sentimental value with it than monetary. It was small and made of orange ducktape, but it carried so many things that Remus wanted to protect; a photo of his family, one of Virgil's guitar picks, the ticket to the last Tenacious D he went to, and of course, the receipt for his first condom purchase.

His mind flashed to his friends and family, and he wondered how they’d feel about this; him dying because of some dumb robber in a dumb alleyway because he was painting his dumb artwork. That was hardly the kind of death one could look back on and regard with pride (Hell if it wasn't funny to imagine how everyone will react to the news, though). But as he focused on the face above him, he realized with some panic that the grip wasn’t loosening, even as he could feel his lungs burn and a near-soothing feeling telling him to just let go.

As a final act of desperation to save himself from becoming a wholly embarrassing funeral eulogy instead of having a rockstar’s death in his 40s like he always imagined for himself, he patted the ground frantically, looking for a loose rock or something to stop this with. That’s when he felt it; the slightly warm plastic handle of the knife the guy had been holding. Remus’ heart pounded as he realized what he needed to do, and he barely even considered the repercussions of the action before he was plunging the knife into the side of the guy’s neck.

Finally, the grip around his throat loosened as the guy gasped, his expression flickering back and forth between anger and shock. Remus ripped the knife away, inhaling air greedily when the sudden action caused the man to loosen his grip and move off of him, trying to cover the stab wound with his hands and failing.

Remus quickly scrambled back and pulled himself up the wall, watching and waiting for the guy to fall still. He did, after what felt like a few minutes, and Remus didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. He’d just killed a man. It was self-defence, but still… even the morbid thoughts he had over the years couldn't have prepared him for what it would have actually felt like to go through with any of it.

In that moment of pause, his injuries caught up with him as both his head and neck begun to ache. He was so disoriented that he barely even noticed the third person standing in the alley until they spoke up.

“Well. I didn’t see that coming.”

Remus snapped his head towards the source of the voice, and immediately regretted it when the hasty motion made him dizzy. The only reason he didn’t immediately jump into fight mode was because of the unusually casual way the voice had spoken. Beyond that, the figure he saw standing a short distance away didn’t really… look like a regular person. Beyond the odd formal clothing that had no discernable modern style to it and the shock of white hair that could only be achieved with hella bleach, his skin was a cool grey like a cadaver and he had a ghostly appearance to him; transparent and misty around the edges.

Definitely not the sort of thing Remus expected to see, but he was always one to accommodate the unexpected. 

“...You and me both. My only goal for today was to draw unicorn porn.” Remus replied lightly, once he decided it wouldn't hurt to entertain whatever was currently happening.

The figure turned, startling at the sight of Remus staring directly at him.

“You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” He blurted out with wide eyes, looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-

“Mamma always told me I was special.” Remus replied with a woozy grin, leaving back against the cool bricks of the alleyway. Seeing things that weren’t there was a new level of fucked-up for his brain, but hopefully that was just a side effect of hitting his head and not something he’d have to take pills for later. Either way, at least this spectre was pretty to look at. Trauma had its benefits.

“You think a deity of death is pretty?” The man (deity???) asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.”

"I can't believe my own brain is kinkshaming me." Remus whined, slipping down slightly as the worn-down soles of his boots lost their grip on the concrete for a second. 

Death frowned, until a metaphorical lightbulb lit over his head. "Ah- you think you're hallucinating. Well, that's not an unfair assumption. Keep believing it, by all means."

"That doesn't sound like something a hallucination would say." Remus pointed out.

"Well then, I'll gladly prove my non-existence by disappearing." Death said as he took a step towards the body.

"Wait!" Remus called before he could figure out why. The ghostly figure stopped, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Remus’ composure slipped as his eyes darted between the body and Death. "I...I need to know that this is real. That I'm not making this up. This feels like something I'd dream, but…" 

His hand clenched around the knife, feeling the squelch of blood and the tremor of his hand. Despite the mixed signals he was currently getting on the state of his sanity, it felt solid and real, and Remus wasn’t sure what to make of that.

"Fuck. Please tell me! Am I being as messed up as usual or did I really just kill someone?"

Death’s eyes softened. "You did. This is real." 

"Well shit. Okay…" Remus looked back at the body with a deep resignation. He wondered if he should do something about that. Probably not; that would look even more incriminating.

"...If it makes you feel better, he has hurt people in situations like this before, and completely unnecessarily; his only motive was to achieve a rush.” 

That did make Remus feel better, actually. 

"Good. I’m glad I killed a piece of shit and not someone down on their luck." Remus sighed, eyeing the spectral figure. "Speaking of, if this is real, then I guess that means you are too right?"

Any sympathy on Death's place quickly faded as he was caught out. "Erm-"

"It's cool." Remus leaned his head back again. "Talking to a cute ghost man? Sounds like a typical Thursday night for me."

Actually, this was the furthest thing from a typical Thursday night for Remus, but he didn’t want to admit that to the cute ghost man and risk looking uncool.

"You shouldn't get acquainted with it. Seeing me is hardly a good thing." Death replied, though his cheeks were distinctly a darker grey. 

"Aww- don't sell yourself short. I love your work!" Remus waved away vaguely. He always had a strange relationship with death in a way that others didn’t; always the first to laugh at a funeral or smile instead of grieve. That was probably why he felt so comfortable right now. “Besides, we’ll all be food for the dirt and worms eventually, anyway. Why get uncomfortable with it?"

Death met his eyes again, seeming slightly more firm. “Perish those thoughts, it's hardly your time yet."

Remus pouted. "It's still inevitable, though. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy I didn’t die today and got to meet you instead, but what’s so bad about something that’s going to happen either way?”

“I’m starting to think I was right by judging your attitude as a red flag.” Death muttered.

“But I'm right aren't I?” Remus prodded.

“Indeed.” Death begrudgingly conceded. “And do you know just how inevitable it is? Approximately 2 people die per second; 106 per minute. There have been 6435 events of armed conflict in the past year alone, and over 690 million people who are undernourished as we speak. Beyond that, there are even more people losing their lives to case-by-case natural events and incidents. So if you’d be so kind, do not be so eager to create more work for me.”

Remus absorbed that information, tilting his head. “Despite all that, you’re still here?”

“...I am.” Death agreed after a heavy pause, in the same manner most would admit their own defeat. “I’ll admit, I’m not used to… talking so much. It’s an unusual feeling, but it’s been pleasant, I suppose.”

“Death likes my company.” Remus laughed. “That’s gotta be saying something.”

Death rolled his eyes. “My name is Logan, not Death.” 

“Huh. I’m Remus.” Remus replied, a little baffled. He didn’t expect a deity to have such a normal name.

“Remus ‘Tsukio’ Kaneshiro, I already know of you. We’ve met before.”

Remus’ bafflement only grew. “We have? I think I’d remember meeting someone like you.”

“You wouldn't; you were unconscious. It was after you overdosed on cold medicine. Thankfully your parents got you to the hospital on time before I could do my job, but I remember it being a close call.” Logan looked at him knowingly.

“...Oh.” Remus laughed nervously. He definitely remembered that. Finding out you could overdose on a lot of common household items was pretty dangerous for him to learn as a teenager, and he’d never forget how furious his entire family was with him for being so reckless. He never knew how to tell them that it wasn’t quite the accident they assumed it to be (needless to say, his adolescent years were pretty shitty to him, being the outsider in this town in more ways than one). Thankfully, the taste of cold medicine had become too repulsive for him to try anything like that again.

“...I am glad you’re alright. It’s always unfortunate when a life ends too soon.”

“Well…thanks. This has been pretty trippy, so I’m glad I met you too, Logan.”

Logan hummed and looked towards the end on the alleyway. “By the way, you should think about leaving soon. There’s a group of people approaching us.”

Shit, Remus had almost forgotten that he had just committed a crime. Given how awful this scene looked, there was a big chance he’d get thrown into jail for this if he got caught. But at the same time, he was almost hesitant to leave behind the spectre that had enchanted his heart within a few minutes, even if his mind was still trying to catch up with the overload of information.

“Why would you help me?” He asked quickly and somewhat suspiciously.

Just as Logan finished his business with the body, he looked at him over his shoulder with an almost sly expression. “You seem interesting, Remus. I’d hate for you to lose your life over someone so unworthy of one.”

And with that, Logan disappeared like a cloud of fog. Remus stood there transfixed, until he remembered Logan’s warnings and snatched up his bag, shoving the knife into his pocket and dashing into the night.

--------------

Case 2: the man who couldn't leave well enough alone.

The next time Remus and Logan met, it was slightly less of an accident, but fuck if the guy didn’t deserve it.

When Remus got home after the night he first saw Logan, he was more grateful than ever that he lived in such a run-down part of town. There were barely any security cameras to look out for, let alone people who were willing to be out during the early hours of the morning. 

He was able to slip into his apartment complex unseen, avoiding his early-bird roommate long enough to wash away his crimes in the shower.

After that, he fell into his bed, completely unable to process everything that had just happened. So instead he fell asleep and left the deep thinking to his future self.

As expected, he needed plenty of time to collect his thoughts. First of all, he knew he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing because after weeks and months of taking it as easy as possible, he hadn’t seen anything else as strange as a personification of death named Logan. Logan...what kind of name even was that? It felt like the name of a teacher, not something that should be as grim and macabre as Remus himself. 

But that was the other thing; Remus couldn’t get the thought of Logan out of his head. He was like the angel who had come down to bless him in a moment of weakness, saving him from further misfortune. He knew he had little to no chance of seeing their deity again, but that didn’t stop him from plaguing his mind constantly. 

Remus figured the best chance he’d probably get at seeing Logan again was to become involved with death once more. His mind immediately jumped to animals, the easiest targets; he pictured slipping into a farm late at night and slitting the throat of one of the sheep, going to a pet store and buying a hamster for the night before ‘accidentally’ leaving it in a box to suffocate, picking up a stray from the street and snapping its neck quickly. But just as soon as those thoughts came to him, he waved them away with a grimace. He wouldn’t be able to go through with any of that, even for Logan.

People had always talked about him like he was a serial killer in training. They would keep a wary eye when he picked up sharp objects and ask his brother if Remus had ever hurt one of their pets as kids, as if because he had unconventional ideas, he was a complete sadist towards the innocent. (And yes, perhaps he did have thoughts of that nature too, but they’d always fill him with sickness because he fucking loved the pet dogs they had as kids, damn it). In any case, he knew that going through with those ideas would only be proving those people right, that he was a dangerous individual who’d murder an innocent creature just for someone his brain maybe made up.

...Perhaps he was losing his mind after all. What was he doing, plotting out the best way to see Death? If anyone else could hear his thoughts, they’d think him half-mad or suicidal. It seemed like the best thing so do was to try to push this out of his mind, so eventually, that's what he did. He wasn’t so good at that usually; his mouth ran a mile a minute and the people who knew him would often say that his brain-mouth filter was non-existent. But this felt like something he’d like to keep for himself, especially when news of the murder made it onto the local news, presumed to be the outcome of ‘gang activity’ simply because the victim was successful and had a loving family and what else could explain this?

He decided to not think about making plans anymore, and he only thought about Logan when his mind was otherwise unoccupied. It stayed that way until the very next week when he found out about the situation with his roommate’s ex.

Remus didn’t have many people in the world who were willing to put up with him, but the one’s that did, he cherished dearly. So when Nadia, the woman he’d describe as belonging among the Valkyries (if only she could get past her deal of not wanting to hurt a fly), came to him looking uncharacteristically shaken and upset, Remus felt something in him snap.

She told Remus about how her ex-boyfriend was following her to her workplace and making threats on her life. He’d even begun showing up outside their apartment late at night in an attempt at intimidation, and that detail alone pissed him off considering he’d been too in his head to even notice.

“All because I decided I deserved better.” Nadia told him tearily. She was so strong usually, both physically and emotionally, so seeing her so close to crying felt like a punch to the gut. “I just want for him to be gone… But James would probably kill me before I could even file a restraining order.”

“What if he was gone?” Remus blurted out. “Hypothetically.”

Nadia blinked at him, wiping a stray tear. “Honestly? I think the world would be a better place. But that’s never going to happen.”

Remus nodded. “Right. Of course. Do you still have his number, by any chance?”

--

Remus’ plan was simple: Nadia would call her ex and ask him to come over to ���reconcile’, and when he did, Remus would confront him. Scare him enough to stay away for good. He was pretty great at being intimidating when he wanted to that the both of them assumed it would work out.

Well, James came as planned. Their apartment complex had one massive security flaw in that anyone could get in without keys or permission, so the only clue Remus got that James was coming was the sound of footsteps bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. Remus stood upright and waited, until he saw the top of James’ head slowly ascending up the stairs, pausing on the second-top step.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” James scoffed disbelievingly as Remus moved in front of him. “Did Nadia seriously send out the guard dog? What? Suddenly too afraid to talk for herself?”

Remus considered barking at him in response, but considering how James was way above the common creep in terms of persistence, he crossed his arms instead and glared steadily.

“Hell yeah she did. You should know why, given how much of a low-life asshole you’ve been acting all week. When are you going to give up the big guy act, huh? Curley called and he wants his complex back.”

James, in all of his 5-foot-no-thoughts glory, only squinted as the insult went over his head.

“...I knew I never fuckin’ liked you. Don’t get involved in our relationship, you little freak.” James tried to pass him, and Remus quickly blocked him, taking out the knife he’d stolen months ago.

“Take another step and this is going in your goddamn eye.” Remus raised his voice, confident that most of their neighbours were already out at work. “You’re not going near Nadia ever again, do you hear me?”

“Or what?! What’ll you do, Kaneshiro? Stab me? Put the toothpick away and step aside, for god’s sake. This is embarrassing, even for you.”

The two of them stood in a standstill, staring each other down as the echo from James’ exclamation faded out.

“...Fine.” Remus said finally. He slipped the knife back into his pocket, and James smirked smugly until Remus grabbed the front of his shirt instead. “It’ll be more fun to do this, anyway.”

With that he shoved James backwards, who quickly lost his footing and fell down the long and narrow flight of stairs. He tumbled for few moments, hitting each step, until he landed on the ground floor with a distant thump.

Remus stared after him, preparing for James to get up and start making a scene like he always did when he didn’t get his way. He didn’t.

Frowning, Remus descended the stairs, and as he drew closer to the slumped-over body, he noticed the puddle of blood around James’ head and the odd way he’d landed.

“Damn.” Remus commented under his breath. “Nadia’s going to kill me.”

He heard a sigh somewhere ahead of him, and fearing someone had walked in on his compromising position, Remus quickly glanced up, excuse at the ready.

“It was an accident-!” He exclaimed, before he realized it was Logan standing there, looking between James and Remus with a pinched expression.

“I know you pushed him, Remus. That’s not exactly what the law would define as an ‘accident’.”

For a second, Remus was starstruck (and opting to ignore the consequences of his actions). “You remember me.”

“Of course I do. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, though.”

That almost sounded like an accusation, so Remus held his hands up defensively. “Hey, in my defence he was just asking to die. The dude's a dick!”

Logan sighed. “Regardless, you shouldn't go around killing people. Sooner or later you’ll get caught.”

“Well, I’m 1 for 1 so far! But if you’d rather me not get in trouble… Have any tips on how to cover this?” Remus joked, winking.

Logan frowned at him before he truly considered it, looking around at the scene thoughtfully. “...Double check to make sure you left no evidence. Move quickly, before anybody stumbles across the scene. And if you have time, plant something which will make this look more like an accident-- for instance, a spill on the stairs.”

Remus’ eyes widened. “I wasn’t expecting actual tips. Holy shit- okay.”

He went over to check the body, feeling his cheeks heat up. He absolutely should not be getting flustered over advice on how to cover up a murder, yet here he was.

“I feel like you shouldn’t be encouraging this.” Remus said jokingly as he smoothed out the creases on the front of James’ shirt. “Didn’t you say something about having more work to do? Who knows, you might be giving me a new hobby.”

Remus laughed. Logan didn’t. When he glanced up, the deity was frowning.

“Perhaps not. Forget what I said; I shouldn’t be interfering in matters like this. I shouldn’t even be appearing to you now.”

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s the matter? I thought you liked talking.” Remus hastily stood upright, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I- regardless of my personal feelings, I have a job to do. I can’t allow myself to become so partial over one human.” Logan replied, rubbing at the crease between his eyebrows.

“Why? What’s the worst that could happen?!” Remus argued.

“You could cheat death, for starters.”

“You already know how I feel about that.” Remus whined. “I’ll off myself when the time comes, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Don’t-” Logan exclaimed, before he reigned himself back in. “Just. No. You’re supposed to go naturally. Neither you or I should interfere with that.” 

Remus frowned. He wasn’t so sure he liked the thought of such a boring death. If anything, he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. Otherwise, he’d be just another body no one would remember-- like loverboy over there.

“That means no more meetings like this.” Logan continued on.

“But what if I want to see you again?” Remus muttered. He looked across the room to Logan and found him wearing a similar downtrodden expression, until it grew serious.

“You’ll just have to deal with that, because we were never supposed to meet in the first place. I have a duty to fulfil and you have a life to live. Our paths are as parallel as can be.”

“This is bullshit, Logan.” Remus said, but he didn’t argue any further. Not when Logan walked around him to complete his business. Not when he prepared to leave, either.

“Don’t do this again.” Logan said finally, giving him a stern glare. “I mean it.”

--------------

Case 3: the woman in the streets.

The next time Remus and Logan met, Logan was starting to think Remus was making a habit of this after all.

In Remus’ defence, he totally wasn’t.

Logan’s parting words just wouldn’t leave his head. It was even worse than last time; the knowledge that he could kill anyone and get to see Logan again plagued him, and he found himself pulling away from his family and friends after the questioning from the police was over and done with.

They were all worried for him, but especially Nadia who knew exactly what he did and assumed it was because of the guilt that he was becoming uncharacteristically withdrawn. Although she was shocked at how things had escalated, she tried to apologize multiple times for letting Remus confront James, which he would always blow off. It wasn’t killing James that had gotten to him, not at all; in fact he was glad that prick was out of their hair. Rather, he grappled with the idea of never seeing Logan again, one of the few people who truly saw the worst sides of him and accepted them nonetheless.

He didn’t deal with it well. 

The night of their next meeting, Remus was out drinking alone. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he didn’t want to justify why he wanted to get absolutely wasted to his friends, so being sad and lonely for one night it was. 

He had stumbled out of the bar late at night, beginning his unsteady trek home since he had accidentally spent too much money and couldn’t afford an uber to drive him back. Stepping onto the street a couple blocks from his apartment, everything was quiet until the person ahead of him crossed the road, just as a car sped around the corner and knocked them over with an awful crunch.

Remus stood in shock. He looked after the swerving car to get the licence plate, but it was already too late and they had hit the gas upon noticing him. Swearing, he stumbled over to the person left in the road. 

“Shit- Are you alright? Of course not, you need an ambulance.” He was struggling to unlock his phone when he noticed how still the person-- a frail old woman-- was. It didn’t even look like she was taking breaths, though it was hard to tell through his swimming vision and the thick coat she was wearing.

With unsteady fingers, Remus pressed against the pulsepoint on her neck, and felt the moment her heartbeat stopped.

“Oh…”

And then he turned on his heel and threw up.

Death wasn’t supposed to bother him like this. He had always been proud of his ability to frighten others with his dismissive attitude towards life’s eventualities. But this was different. He had just watched the murder of a complete stranger right before his eyes, and there wasn't even anything he could do. What the fuck?

He didn’t even feel better when the person he’d been longing to see all night appeared right in front of him, arms crossed and ready to give a lecture.

“Again, Remus?! What did I tell you?! No more murder!” Logan threw his hands up at the sight of Remus next to the body, that was until he noticed the cause of death and Remus’ sickly appearance,

“I-I didn’t do anything this time, I swear. Logan I promised myself I wouldn’t.” He picked himself out of the gutter he had been puking into, trying to look at the deity, just so he could feel some sense of reassurance. “I thought I’d never see you again. ‘Thought I was okay with that, but I’m not. I missed you.”

Logan only stared at Remus when he began crying. He was a sappy emotional drunk when he got through the fun tipsy phase, sue him.

“...I apologize for yelling at you.” Logan said, awkwardly hovering his hand over Remus’ shoulder until it shuddered with a sob and accidentally brushed against him. Remus jolted at the cool touch, as did Logan, who quickly retreated his hand, eyes darting around worriedly.

“‘Always thought you’d be like mist.” Remus slurred, awestruck enough to forget his sadness. He reached forward to prod at Logan, who furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully.

“I… Yes, that’s definitely strange.” Logan cleared his throat and straightened up. “In any case, you need to get off the street, report this incident, and go home. Being around so much death isn’t good for your mental health.”

“Maybe.” Remus sighed. “I quite like hanging around you, though.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re drunk. You’re going to feel a lot worse about seeing me in the morning, I promise.”

“I never feel bad about seeing you.” Remus said, picking up his phone from where he’d dropped it. “I only feel bad that it’ll be a long time before I get the chance to see you again.”

“...I don’t get it.” Logan replied softly after a heavy pause. “You shouldn’t want to see me at all. I’m a bad omen. You’d only ever get to meet me in times of tragedy.”

“‘Bad omen’... And I thought Emo was dramatic.” Remus chuckled weakly. “You’re not so bad, Lo. You guide people to the end. You care for them even when you have so many people to watch over. You’re opinionated and you’re easily curious when things don’t go to plan. You don’t mind when I’m weird and you’re fun to talk to. I like you.”

Logan blinked rapidly with surprise, clutching his chest. “I wish we could be having this conversation away from the recently deceased. But... I suppose I feel the same way. I still don’t know how or why you can see me, but our conversations haven’t been unpleasant.”

“Death likes my company.” Remus said, smiling softly to himself. “...You’re right though. I should probably phone this in. I just wish I could remember the licence plate… Something like XQ... ugh.”

“XQR 460.” Logan supplied helpfully. 

“That’s it!” Remus cheered, sloppily kissing Logan on the cheek. “Thanks babe!”

Logan floundered for a second as Remus begun calling an ambulance, struggling to regain composure. “I hope we don’t meet like this again soon. Three times over the span of a year is already too much.”

“I don’t know.” Remus looked at Logan slyly. “I’ve always had pretty bad luck.”

--------------

Case 4: the bad doctor.

The next time Remus and Logan meet, it’s completely coincidental and under less stressful circumstances for once.

Well, still stressful. Just for different reasons. 

Roman was in the hospital because of some dumb motorcycle crash he got into, which near-gave Remus a heart attack when he heard about because he may often ask for death these days, but not like this. Never like this.

Anyway, he was more or less alive in the end. Just a broken leg and a lot of scrapes and bruises since he always refused to wear the proper protective clothing when he went riding (due to it ‘not fitting his aesthetic', apparently. Remus assumed it was pussy talk for ‘I don’t look badass enough to pull off leather’).

Remus had stopped by to visit, bringing some of the fancy name-brand crackers Roman liked since he kept complaining about how stale and awful the hospital’s ones were, and to say hello to Virgil while xe was on shift. The three of them even managed to sit down while Virgil was on break and catch up, too. Roman and Virgil seemed glad Remus was doing a bit better after his downward spiral a couple of weeks ago, even if they didn’t mention it.

After a few hours spent catching up and teasing one another, he decided to leave Roman to get some rest. His plans for that evening were to take a load off and perhaps call for some takeout with Nadia. Honest to God, he didn’t plan on looking for any trouble.

But still, trouble found him when he noticed Logan walking the halls of the hospital, following a doctor to the elevator.

Remus double-taked. Though he shouldn’t really be surprised to see Logan here in a place with so much death, it was still odd witnessing the cloaked figure walk around normal people, none of them noticing his presence. 

Remus quickly jogged over. "Logan!" He hissed under his breath.

The deity startled (startled!) before turning to him, just like the doctor he was following. 

"Do you need something?" The doctor said, raising an eyebrow.

"Uhhhh, nope! Just… getting into the elevator." Remus replied, stepping in and standing next to Logan.

"Why must you have such awful timing?" Logan sighed stressfully as the elevator doors slid shut. Remus looked at him, unable to verbally reply with the doctor standing right next to them. Fortunately, his unspoken request to elaborate was picked up on.

"This doctor is going down go the morgue. I was here to see a patient that died under his care, and I noticed how death seemed to latch onto him. I got curious."

Sounds like a bad doctor, if even a deity of death was interested in him. Heh, that probably said a lot about Remus too. 

Logan elaborated for Remus’ misinterpreting amused expression. "Remus, he murders patients purposefully. You should not have gotten on this elevator."

...Oh. Remus looked past Logan to the doctor, who had noticed his glances.

"...Hm, aren't you supposed to be in your room? Broken leg, road burn, lacerations?" He questioned, eyes flicking down to where he assumed Remus must be injured.

"Nope! You’re thinking of my twin. I came to visit him today." Remus responded as chipper as he could manage, suddenly a lot more unnerved knowing that this apparently dangerous doctor knew about his brother.

"Ah! I see. I did wonder how you managed to grow a full moustache in a day." The man chuckled. "Twins… quite fascinating."

Uh oh spaghetti-os. "Yeah… people say we're like two unrelated people, we’re so different." Remus laughed dismissively. It didn't seem to bother the doctor. 

"Interesting… Say, a partner of mine is conducting a study on the differences in the individual psychologies of monozygotic twins. I'm sure it would please her to get more data, if you'd be interested in participating. There would be monetary compensation for your time, of course." 

"This is such an unethical form of recruitment. What kind of professional are you?" Logan argued in frustration. Remus almost burst into laughter on the spot from the bizarreness of the situation, but he somehow managed to turn it into an agreeable grin instead. 

"Sounds good, doc." Remus said. 

"What-?!" Logan exclaimed. Remus spared him a glance, hoping it would let him know he knew what he was doing. Logan didn't look placated in the slightest.

"Excellent! I'll pass the details onto your brother and we can arrange a meeting sometime this week.”

At that moment, the elevator stopped to let a few other people on. Remus took the opportunity to head out before they could reach the basement floor. 

“See you later!” He called to both the Doctor and Logan.

“REMUS!”

--------------

Case 4.5: the dead doctor.

The next time they meet, Remus fully expects it.

Roman asks him over text why he volunteered them for a study, and Remus makes some vague excuse like ‘sexy doctor’. Thankfully, he bought it.

Before the date sent to them by the doctor, Remus decided to do his own research first. To do so, he contacted Virgil and asked for details on the man. 

After copious amount of friendly jabs (like 'oooh Remus, I didn’t know tall, straight, and boring was your type'), Virgil told him his name and not much else, given that xe wasn't exactly close with the older staff member. That was fine; Remus used the information to find online profiles, where he found contact details and photos, where he found business accounts, where he found history.

After pulling a few more strings from people that owed him one, he managed to gain access to the vital records from the hospital. It didn’t take long to discover that Logan was right, there had been a spike in deaths since the doctor, a mister 'Stacey’, had begun working there. It was a mystery how no one had noticed the pattern honestly. Weren't doctors supposed to get their licences taken away after a certain number of incidents? As he begun looking through the files more closely however, he realized that the deaths were often chalked up to accidents; small things that could have been due to anything, from mistakes during operations, to the patients overdosing on their prescribed medication, to incidents days after they’ve been discharged.

As Remus closed his laptop, he begun feeling very glad he had impulsively accepted Stacey’s offer. 

--

The meeting ended up being scheduled for Friday evening, and by the time it rolled around, Remus was fully prepared and waiting outside of the agreed location. He dialled Roman’s number, looking out to the empty parking lot and familiarizing himself with the location.

After a few rings, Roman picked up, sounding slightly agitated. “Yes, Captain Dookey?”

Remus snickered at the old nickname-- it was practically a relic from when they played pirates as children. Perhaps Roman was feeling sentimental after his accident.

“Aye aye first mate. You should know that I’m not gonna make it to the study. I already called Dr. Stacy to let him know we’re cancelling for today, so you can stay home.”

“Really Remus? I just got ready.”

“Yeah well, you’re supposed to be resting anyway. Unless you want to drop a visit by yourself that is, but Virgil told me he’s straight, soooo...”

He heard a retching sound on the other end of the line.

“No thanks.” A sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess.”

“Bye, ugly.”

“Later, Rat Bastard.”

“Rats are cute, that’s not an insult. Byeee~.” Remus quickly hung up, his grin quickly fading as he took in the apartment complex. 

It didn’t look like the sort of space that would house an office, but Stacey didn’t look like the type to break the Hippocratic oath either, so perhaps the world wasn’t as straight-forward as it seemed.

Slipping his phone away, Remus buzzed the number he’d been given, and it wasn’t long before the good doctor himself came down to answer the door personally.

“Remus.” Stacey almost looked surprised to see him. “Is your brother not coming?”

“Oh, no.” Remus waved a hand. “I just got off the phone with him and he told me he’s running late. He said to get started without him.”

He received a charming smile. “That works just fine. Come on in.”

Stacey led him up the stairs to his apartment, and the whole time Remus felt the weight of the kitchen knife in his pocket. When they got to the ‘office’ (which was really just a living room with minimal furnishing), he offered him a drink.

“No thanks, I’m good.” Remus said, looking around. “...Seems pretty empty in here for an office.”

“Ah… Yes, unfortunately my colleague is having renovations done in her usual space, so we’ll have to collect our data here. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

A fair enough explanation on the surface, and one his brother would probably accept if he was here, but Remus wasn’t nearly as trusting as Roman was. Nor was he as ignorant to the true purpose of this meeting.

“I see… That makes sense. Or at least it would, if I didn’t already know all about your dirty little secrets.”

Stacey glanced up from where he’d been looking for a pen. “...Pardon?”

Remus smiled back; a grin with all teeth. “You have quite a few skeletons in your closet, doc. Even for a fine medical professional like yourself.”

The doctor very carefully didn’t react to that. "My apologies, do you have the right person? To the best of my knowledge we've only spoken once." 

"Yeah." Remus agreed. "And once is all it took. I found out about all those little accidents that follow you, doctor. Weird how many times your patients pass away from nicked veins and potassium chloride overdoses, hm?"

The only outward response Stacey gave was the clenching of his fists. Subtle, but Remus noticed it. "Be careful Mr. Kaneshiro, because that sounds an awfully lot like a baseless accusation. People sue for that, you know." 

"I don't doubt it. But you already know it's not so baseless, don't you? You know exactly what I’m talking about, which is why you invited us here to a shady apartment late at night, no colleague in sight."

"Remus what the hell do you think you're doing?!" A familiar voice chimed from behind him.

Remus startled out of his focus, whipping his head around. "Logan?" 

"Don't look at me, you ignoramus-! You met a serial killer alone after I told you to stay away?!"

"He knows my brother, I couldn't just-!"

Remus looked back at the doctor was closer now, looking down at him pitifully. "I see now. The talking to air, the erratic behaviour, the pushing your delusions onto others… you mustn't be well. It's alright, Mr. Kaneshiro, I could easily refer you to a mental health facility who will take care of you."

"Remus, you have to get out! Now!" 

"I know!" He wasn’t a complete idiot, damn it! But he needed to get Stacey to confess or-

"Ah, perfect! If you wait here, I’ll go and make a call." 

Remus stepped backwards, hand going to the knife in his pocket. He needed Stacey to confess, but if he didn’t-

Unfortunately, Stacey noticed his movement and quickly grabbed his left wrist, putting way too much pressure in his grip than was necessary. 

"Ah-ah. I told you to stay put, didn't I? Come now, don't be difficult. I'm only trying to get you the help you need."

If he didnt-

"Let go of him!" Logan demanded to the man who couldn't hear him. 

Stacey froze, feeling the cool touch of Death on his arm as Logan tried to pull him away, and at that moment Remus pulled his knife out and stabbed him in the chest; slipping the blade right between the ribs. 

Red pooled around the knife, staining his crisp white shirt vividly. Stacey stared at the knife, and dug his nails into Remus’ wrist. 

"Fucker." Remus yelped with pain, pulling the weapon back out. 

Finally, Stacey let go and stumbled back, hitting the wall and sliding down to the floor. His expression didn't recover from the shock from when Logan touched him; he didn't even try to apply pressure to the wound as he bled out. He just sat there until the light left his eyes, and the only sound left in the room was Remus’ laboured breathing.

"I… shouldn't have done that." Logan muttered, eyeing the limp body. 

"Done what? I'm the one that killed him. That was my backup plan all along." Remus replied numbly, looking at the scene he had caused. 

"I gave him the touch of Death, it's- it's an omen. I'm not supposed to use it ever."

"Gee, I'm flattered. I promise murder was always on my brain though." Remus said as he took the tape recorder out of his pocket. No need for this anymore. He wanted to get a clip of Stacey saying something incriminating so that he could defame him and ruin his reputation, but well, him not being able to benefit from a reputation at all was the next best thing.

Logan watched him, taking in the claw marks across his wrist. "...Right. He scratched you, so remember to clean under his nails." 

Despite everything, Remus smiled softly at the advice. "Aww, you really care about me, don't you?"

"I- no. Absolutely not. That’s absurd" Remus snickered as Logan flushed an adorable shade of paynes grey, which he hid by going to deal with the corrupt doctor’s soul. 

"...Why did you show up, by the way? There isn't anyone dead in this apartment is there?" Remus realized belatedly, looking around the empty space. 

"Ah… No. Admittedly, I've been keeping a closer eye on this town than I really should, and after what happened the other day, I figured I needed to be here when I noticed you two meeting… I probably shouldn’t have.” Logan conceded.

"Well, at least you can't say this wasn't a business visit." Remus giggled to himself, wiping the blood from his knife with a tissue. Maybe he was a little giddy from the endorphins of confronting a prolific serial killer, or perhaps it was the confirmation that Logan cared for him, but either way he felt really good right now, like he could take on the world.

Logan looked at him and sighed. "I should've known you'd be trouble. No more killing, Remus. This has to be the last time."

"Of course, pinky promise~."

"...I can see you crossing your fingers behind your back, you brat."

--------------

Case 5: the one who tried to get away.

The next time they met, Remus broke his pinky promise. No surprises there.

It was hardly even a promise to begin with, but for some reason Logan expected him to stick to it. Quite foolish, if you ask Remus, given that he now had a total of three murders under his belt, and stopping there almost felt like giving up. 

Of course, he had to lay low after Stacey however. The hospital was holding a memorial for his death and Remus later found out that it was ruled a break in. (Made sense, since Remus took a few of his fancy cleaning products on the way out, as a treat to himself.)

It was a shame Stacey was being remembered so honourably, but he couldn't really do anything about that. At least he wasn't out in the world hurting more people. 

But unfortunately for Remus, the ruling of Stacey’s murder didn’t stop the incident from trickling into his normal life, as Virgil and Roman seemed to grow suspicious of him. Virgil didn't bring up the topic to him directly, but xe begun acting sketchy when the two of them hung out (Though that could easily be wariness after having one of xyr co-workers be killed). Oppositely, Roman brought the topic up at the first chance possible.

"Dr. Stacey was murdered the night we were supposed to meet him." Roman commented the next day they were able to have lunch together, arms crossed confrontationally. "Funny that."

"Yeah. Sounds like we had some pretty good luck, if you ask me." Remus grinned.

"Wha- why are you smiling?! A man died!" His twin hissed at him. Under his breath, as to not alert the other tables.

Remus’ grin faded. "Listen Ro-bro, I didn't want to tell you this but our good doctor wasn't as kind as you think he is. I called you off that night to help you. Trust me. It’s better off that neither of us went through with that ‘study’."

Roman leaned back, looking unconvinced. "What were you doing instead, Remus?"

"...Huh?"

"You heard me. Where were you? What's your alibi?"

"You're not accusing your own flesh and blood of murder, are you?" Remus sipped his drink casually; ice coffee with as many pumps of peppermint syrup as the barista would allow. 

"Just answer the question." Siiigh, what a tightass. How did they come out the same womb? 

"I was meeting an old friend, for your information. Logan." Remus smiled to himself at the inside joke.

"Logan? You've never mentioned a Logan before." Roman raised his eyebrows.

Remus leaned back in his chair with a shrug, opting to look out the window instead. By doing so he missed the flash of complicated emotions that crossed his twin’s face at the dismissive gesture.

"I don't tell you everything about my life, brother dearest."

"Clearly…"

--

A week or two passed since his conversation with Roman, and during that time Remus didn't get to see Logan again once. That wasn't such a terrible thing, most people would assume, to not run into a deity of death, but Remus was so bored! He wanted to see his favourite death pal again, but no opportunities arose to do that, and nothing was striking his murder-fancy.

That was until the day he saw a familiar licence plate parked outside a shop.

Remus froze in his tracks, remembering the night he last saw that car.

A woman crossing the street, a body too still, a car speeding away with no remorse-

Remus had given the licence number to the police, but clearly they hadn't done anything about it. Or perhaps they'd tried and the asshole bought them off. 

He growled at the idea, startling a passer-by who was crossing around him.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long before he found out who his ire belonged to. A familiar face left the shops and begun walking towards the car; Anton, a guy who had been a year above him back in high school. Remus’ memory of the man was vague; primarily made up of snapshots of cruelty and entitlement towards those around him.

He looked exactly the same, with his annoyingly polished appearance and ugly overpriced clothes. So he was right about the police being paid off, then. Typical.

He'd just have to do something about this himself. 

--

“I suppose there’s no point in trying to convince you to stop this, is there?”

“I mean.” Remus begun, looking down at the body he had just finished suffocating and rubbing at his bruised arms. There was more of a struggle than tv had led him to believe. “I kinda had to do this one. What? Was I supposed to connect the dots on a murder and not stalk and kill the guy who got away unpunished?”

“Most people would say yes.” Logan groaned, in the sort of tone that said he already knew he was fighting a losing battle.

“We’re not like most people though, are we?” Remus grinned, fluttering his eyelashes.

“You’re most certainly not. I’m barely a person.” Logan replied with finality.

--------------

Case 6: the one who pushed their luck.

And then shortly after; 

“Come on man, don’t do this.” The masked person pleaded, hanging onto the fire-escape for dear life. Literally.

Remus raised an eyebrow, making a show of contemplating the request. “Hmm, I don’t know. You did try to pull a gun on me.”

“It wasn’t loaded, jackass!” 

Remus tutted and held his foot over the person’s clammy hands. They shook violently at the unspoken threat. “And now you’re gonna wake up the whole neighbourhood too? No consideration!”

His joking tone must have angered them, because they began struggling to hoist themself back up again, red in the face with strain. “I swear, when I get up  there-”

Promptly losing his interest in hearing the rest of that threat, Remus stood on their fingers, causing them to let go of the fire-escape and plummet to the street below with a strangled yell.

“Whoopsie daisy.”

He leaned over the banister, whistling innocently as a familiar presence appeared next to him. Logan joined him in peering down at the body, eyebrow raised.

“At least this one was merely an accident?” He guessed by the cause of death, a twinge of hope in his voice.

“Nah, they’ve tried breaking in at least 3 times this year. It was getting annoying.”

As Logan scolded him for his recklessness, Remus decided not to comment on it when their topic of conversation turned back towards the casual banter they usually shared. The two of them stood on the fire escape until the sun was on the edge of the horizon and Remus had to dash back to his apartment to avoid being seen by the early-commuters.

--------------

Case 8: the innocent.

And then: 

Remus curiously nudged the raccoon with the tip of his boot. He’d just stumbled upon it and it still looked fresh; given that he was standing by a busy road, it was no wonder what had happened.

He was making a mental note to come back and collect the bones at a later date, when Logan appeared in-front of him in a blink, looking completely unsurprised this time around.

Remus on the other hand startled before regaining his bearings and shooting the deity a smile. “Our paths are looking less parallel by the day huh, Psychopomp-ous?”

Logan raised his eyebrows appreciatively at the word play. “It appears so. It’s quite the pleasant surprise to find you not getting into trouble for once.”

“There’s always tomorrow.” Remus wiggled his eyebrows back. “That said, I really didn’t expect to see you. I was wondering for a while if you dealt with this kind of thing too, y’know.”

Logan looked down, seeming to really notice the raccoon for the first time. He nodded after a beat. ”She had a life too. My brother brought her into the world, and so I must escort her out.” 

”Yeah? Anything of note happen?” Remus asked, eyebrows raised with genuine curiosity. He’d file away the latter half of Logan’s statement for later prodding.

”...She had a family. They stayed together under the porch of an old couple.”

“Ah, to be a racoon living under a porch.” Remus lamented dreamily. “I’m glad she got to live such a rich and fulfilling life before becoming road kill. I’m truly jealous.”

“In the wild, your lifespan would most likely be around 2–3 years as a raccoon.” Logan pointed out, attempting to contradict his idealistic tone.

“Exactly. The life.”

That earned a pinched expression from Logan that made Remus titter.

“Just messing with you, prim reaper~. Now, do you have any idea how long it’s going to take for her to decompose? I have a new piece of decor to make.”

--------------

Case 11: the matchbox.

Remus watched from afar as the house on Psyche Avenue burned. It was bright and brilliant, so of course the firefighters were already on the scene, trying to calm the fire and save the occupant inside. 

They’d be much too late; the trafficker was already unconscious and likely burning to death, along with any evidence Remus might have left behind. It was the perfect crime.

Satisfied with today’s work, he took a drag of a cigarette, delighted when Logan appeared beside him instead of with the dirtbag who deserved to burn forever (and since it was a mystery whether he'd end up with such a fate, it only seemed fitting for Remus to play god and speed up the process.)

“Those kill, you know.” Logan said in greeting.

“That makes two of us.” Remus grinned sharply, even when Logan rolled his eyes and pinched out the end of his cigarette.

For the second time in a month, the two of them overlooked the sky together, illuminated by the amber blazes of the fire. It almost felt like a date.

--------------

Case 13: the one with bad luck.

He was back in the alley that had imprinted itself so clearly in his memory, knife buried in the chest of a would-be assailant. Remus was boredly watching the blood seep between the bricks when Logan finally appeared to deal with the body.

“You’re late!” Remus complained with a whine. “This guy’s practically cold already.”

“Apologies. There was a flash flood across the country, and it took more of my focus to handle than I would've liked."

Remus hummed. He thought he heard something about that on the news. Mother nature could be cruel indeed. Perhaps even worse than Remus himself. 

“Anyone nearby?” He checked.

“Not in a half-mile radius, no. However, the police may be on their way.” 

“Plenty of time, then.” Remus said as he pulled Logan down to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

It had been months since that first drunk sloppy kiss happened, and less time since it had become a regular greeting. Remus would never get tired of the feeling of cold skin against his lips. It was like kissing marble-- if marble had a sassy mouth and a sexy amount of knowledge.

Logan pulled back first, smudging away the trail of blood running from Remus' nostril. “Did you have any trouble?”

“Nah, you should see the other guy.”

That earned a laugh-- a quiet chime that made Remus’ heart flutter. “I see them. Good job, you’re getting rather skilled at that.”

“Why, thank you~.” Remus preened under the praise. “It only took a couple tries, but I think I finally got the technique down pat.”

“Hmm. Speaking of 'Pat', my brother doesn’t seem to like this much. He’s not unappreciative of your choices in target, although he appears to be rather disapproving on the amount of times I've been called to your side."

Logan didn't talk about his brother much: the deity of life. From what little Remus had learned from his prying and Logan’s own complaints, he seemed like a bit of a killjoy. He blew a raspberry in response.

"Tell Patton to stop making so many criminals and maybe I'll consider it." 

The corner of Logan's lips quirked up. "I don't think I will, as humorous as I'm sure that would be. It doesn't quite work like that."

Remus shrugged, watching as Logan looked off to the side.

"...It seems I’m needed elsewhere."

”You can’t stay? We barely got to talk.” Remus said with a pout.

“Unfortunately so.” Logan turned to the body; what he should have been there for. It wasn’t long before his focus was back on Remus, though. “That said... It’s a busy night. Perhaps we’ll meet again sooner than expected.”

Remus’ frown tipped back into a smile as he watched Logan vanish. He then turned on his heel and retrieved his knife before walking off into the night. If he was going to make good on Logan’s expectations, he better get to work.

--------------

Case 0: the one who death followed.

It soon became an established pattern; Remus would come across someone shady, and he’d put together a detailed- or straight-forward- plot on how to get rid of them. By now his city must have noticed the string of deaths, but with such a random means and very little evidence, Remus was free to continue as he pleased.

In a sense, he was untouchable with Logan by his side, pointing out anything he left behind and giving warning for any potential witnesses. Especially when he gave up on persuading Remus away from this path. It's not like the moral argument could be made anymore; the city had seen a drastic decrease in crime once Remus had taken out a lot of big players (even if there was an air of fear that lingered in the back of everyone's minds, wondering if they'd be next up on the chopping block).

All in all, it was enough to make Remus cocky; perhaps even enough so to lead to his downfall. But how was he ever going to give up now? All his life he’d been hoping for some sort of excitement to fulfil him, and he finally found it in a surprise meeting with a deity of death. Death had gone from a distant longing to something familiar and welcome; something he could use to right wrongs and feel a sense of purpose with.

And as long as he was able to exchange a life for one more meeting with his beloved partner in crime, he would do his best to stay ahead of the game. 

(No matter who was out there, trying to stop the two of them.)

-------------- 

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