#which of course makes the whole relationship with grandpa EASY

[sunny-mercya]

Not so Subtle

James Maguire x Male Reader

Fandom -> Derry Girls

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

»Obviously, we knew about ya two, James.« Michelle said it as if it had been some already worldwide known fact—chewing her gum obnoxiously loudly—and crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking at her cousin with such a smug, wickedly, grin that James (only in this moment) wants to throttle her, because Michelle really knows how to be a annoying ass—or more shake her like some salt shaker—a bit, just a bit.

»Excuse me?« James was flabbergasted, in all honesty.

And this is a sort of moment for James to feel mortified distraught, because he really had thought, actually believing himself that he's so witty smart—and truly cunning like a english men, which he proudly is after all—to make his relationship with [Name] as much subtle as possible and fool everyone else into thinking it's nonexistent.

»Yeah, so obviously like the Polar bears on the South-pole« Orla's input of commentary certainly didn't help the situation—James momentarily dilemma—his god blessed friend snacking on some sweets, like always, like a nonstop task to do.

Not that James is of anything ashamed or that being with [Name] is embarrassing—this sounded wrong and if Michelle hears such, she would kick James hard in the butt or rugby slam him onto the ground—it's just, it's none of their business who he has a romantic relationship with.

But these girls are so nosy sometimes, like so hella nosy that it creates some chaotic energy, that keeping a secret is not so easy.

»North pole. Orla. North pole. Polar bears are on the north pole.« Erin starts with correcting her cousin, which got her in a back and forth with Orla, to than adding her own two pennies to the already known not so new news.

»Doesn't matter now! Besides, it's a good thing ya actually telling us though and not keeping it a secret for life long.«

So it turns out, when James did decided to finally tell the girls, it apparently wasn't that subtle enough to even warrant a surprising reaction.

»Well! I think James and [Name] are really cute together and I'm giving them my blessing!« Claire fumbling a bit with her words in the end, giving a thumbs up and smiling encouraging—and really, Claire is such a sweetheart.

Although Claire's comment created a whole new level of discussion between the girls, forgetting momentarily about James and his bravery about telling them that he and [Name]—his boyfriend a tad bit late with the promised pizza and fish and chips—are together and James didn't knew if the girls knew that his relationship is nearing a two year anniversary or not, but he won't mention it.

»Girls! I've brought our dinner!« your calling from the front door, broke off the discussion—all four looking towards the kitchen door, it had slipped for some minutes their mind for what they're actually being in the [Surname] house—and James quickly walked out of the kitchen to help you—he really just wanted an excuse not to be in this warm environment of teasing.

~~~•~~~

»So, how did you know we're together?« it's a question James had asked, because he really itch for a answer, during the movie of their saturday girls night—Erin's mom would've asked if it even could be called „Girls Night“ with two boy being there and then her Grandpa would say, of course with this wee english fella its still considered a girls night.

»Well, ya english aren't so sly as ya believe to be.«

»She's right, I saw ya holding [Name]'s hand during the whole walk to school and home.«

»See! English are to terrible when it comes to secret romance!«

»James also terrible at giving gifts. He had gifted [Name] a British flag tea cup. Candy would've been the better choice.«

These answers aren't answers at all and neither helpful nor logical, James should've known better than to voice his question.

»Oh, I've told them like a week ago,« you said it so casual as if it's an obvious thing to say—and when James had felt distraught before than he feels distressed now, because why did you told them? Oh right, because these girls are your best friends.

»[Name]?!« James whines, bending forward and hiding his face in his hands—feeling betrayed, kinda, for what did he put so much effort and confidently courage in himself to tell them—just go have it all go in vain, because you already told them and now James felt like a fool (Orla's well meant reassuring pats on his back, didn't help at all) probably even looked like one.

»Oh, now you've made the poor english fella cry, [Nickname].« your dads commenting, when he passed by the living room—to check if everything still doing okay, as sometimes these girl nights could turn out into disaster and chaos, like last month when they have accidentally set the table on fire—really wanted to make James sob, because please, give him a rest from such tease.

As an apology, James had gotten—after leaning back at the couch—a few quick smooches on the cheek from you and the world for James feels right again.

[cadybear420]

15 + 4 from the childhood ask game for any MC applicable <333

thank you 💐

Ask list here!

Details below the cut!

4. How was your muse's relationship with their childhood guardians? Has it changed over time, and if so, how? Do they keep in touch?

Evie and her dad Scott (HSS:OG) have had a very healthy and positive relationship. There were of course some disagreements and confusions, but they were easy to manage and Evie rarely if ever felt like Scott was being hurtful. Evie did sometimes still struggle to communicate about things to him, but they'd generally be able to work things out.

Jo's parents (ILITW) were generally good to her and supportive of her, especially after Jane died, but she did start to grow apart from them as she got older and became more "I need to be able to fend for myself" minded. It was a little strange for them to get used to, but it also meant she was more trustworthy to leave at home alone. Though they did still ask their neighbor Seb to keep an eye on her, and Jo and Seb get along quite well.

After the ILITW timeline though, Jo would maintain her ability to fend for herself, but would also strengthen her closeness with her parents.

Harper Addison's bio dad Franklin (ILB) got her mom Marie Vance pregnant without a care in the world for her or the baby (Harper). The whole family relationship was incredibly messy– he always acted resentful towards Harper and Marie. But young Harper barely picked up on it. It wasn't until when Harper was 7 that he basically said the silent parts out loud and decided to walk out on them, leaving them with very little.

Soon after, Marie would marry Todd Fisher and they'd have Elliot together. Todd was a much better dad, and Marie and Addison were both much happier with him. They were absolutely a match made in heaven. As Harper got older, they would be able to look back and realize all of Franklin's red flags, but they were ultimately able to move past that shitty life.

Bonus fun fact: Harper was originally "Harper Addison Vance" at birth. Addison is the middle name that they sometimes like to use interchangeably or adjacent to their first name. When Marie and Todd married, they used Vance as the family name, but Harper insisted on hyphenating Vance and Fisher for her own last name to signify Todd being a real part of their family, as her real dad and not just her step-dad. So the canon game refers to them with the last name Vance because that's technically their legal birth name, but their official last name is Vance-Fisher.

Anyways, they were a very happy and healthy family. Unfortunately... we all know what happens in the first chapter of ILB. Needless to say, it was VERY devastating for Harper.

Shortly thereafter, their grandpa Arthur would become their legal guardian figure. And as per the canon game, that was quite a mess. Initially, he was grouchy and rude and overly strict, massive whiplash from their fun-loving mom and dad. But soon, he did start to try and be nicer to them, leading Addison to decide they did want to try and like their grandpa too. But then there was the whole shit with The Society and Arthur having betrayed her grandma Josephine, which definitely gave them mixed feelings about their relationship with him afterwards.

Adelaide's relationship with her Dad Gary (ROD) is covered better here.

Jordan's moms (HSS:Prime) have trained her in financial skills and social networking skills from a very young age, insistent that those were important skills to have in order to be able to make a stable living for herself in the future. However, they were also very supportive of whatever Jordan wanted to do with her future. Those skills were for preparing her for unknown possibilities, not for force-lining her into a specific job. So they were very supportive when Jordan wanted to use those skills to found a new high school with a promise to be accepting to all, rather than the generic business job she was originally expecting to pursue.

15. What's one childhood memory that has stuck with your muse over the years? What's it significance to your muse now?

Evie (OG HSS): There are way too many to choose from for her lol. But one that I think would be significant to talk about is Evie learning the story of her parents.

Jo (ILITW): That one premium scene in Ch 16 where, at the memorial, they'll play this tape recording of 10 years ago with all of the friend group playing around together at MC's house. Jo had a distant memory of it as she got older, and she didn't like remembering it.

After seeing the actual recording, though, it would eventually start to become even more painful to remember due to her guilt of letting Noah sacrifice himself. But years later, she would be able to come to terms with her guilt and look back more fondly on those memories.

Harper Addison (ILB): There was this one scene in ILB canon where MC could describe one year on halloween with Elliot and their parents. I don't fully remember it, and I think I lost my screenshots for it. But it went something like: MC and Elliot were unable to go trick-or-treating for some reason, so the parents set up this mini neighborhood thing and they did trick-or-treat with that. I think that's definitely important to her.

I also headcanon that the family's first Hannukah together when Addison was about 8 was very significant and meaningful to them.

After the death of her parents, those memories would be painful to remember. But eventually they are able to remember it even more fondly than before.

Dick Ryder (DLS): His first preschool play, which was about the different colors and what colors they made. Apparently the audience especially loved his performance. And that made him happy. Even for a play about colors, his acting stood out somehow. And that was the kickoff to his acting career dream.

At one point in his teens, he did have a short phase where it seemed silly to him. That he started to pursue acting because of his exemplary acting in a preschool play about colors. But nowadays, he sees it as a reminder to not take the little things completely for granted.

[thawthebeez]

on today's episode of What the Hell is Tumblr Use Thawthebeez Going Crazy Insane About?

PROMISES IN HAIKYUU

specifically this one:

you know the one. the good ol' "I don't care how shitty the toss is, if it's sent my way, I'll hit it" said by none other than Hinata "I keep my promises" Shouyou.

now, in the midst of my monthly season 4 rewatch, i was reminded of the super tense points at the end of the Inarizaki vs. Karasuno match, including the one where Hinata uses his foot to score a point, which isn't the first time he's done it, but i'll be using it as my prime example anyway because i feel like the mood is less "omg he used his foot to score how crazy is that" and rather more of a "HEY GUYS LOOK AT THE CRAZY INSANE BOND BETWEEN THESE TWO CHARACTERS"

Let us begin.

Alrighty so we've got ourselves a pretty sticky situation here. The scores are tied 25-all, and letting Inarizaki get the point would just put the pressure back on Karasuno so it's best to avoid that. They're all getting pretty tired, it's taking more energy to get to places, reactions are delayed, all that.

So, Kageyama goes to set the ball and...

It kinda flops. Unfortunate, yes.

and To Be Fair, if this was ANY OTHER GUY this would have been a point lost for Karasuno. Easy. Literally no questioning that. If this was a toss to Tsukishima or Tanaka or Asahi or LITERALLY ANYONE ELSE, that ball would have dropped.

but it doesn't.

Because it's Hinata, that ball stays in play. Hinata picks it up anyway because this is a toss for HIM. Not getting it up would be breaking a promise.

now, a promise like this isn't too insane, but the timing of which it's made IS. that promise is made just after Tsukishima airs out all of Kageyama's dirty laundry from his middle school days, talking about the whole "no one was there" thing (which leads into the "no one was there" / "i'm here" interaction that literally make me explode every single time without fail).

to paraphrase in a Very Normal way: "my tosses were too fast and demanded too much and so the ball just dropped and that was the most traumatic thing to ever happen in my life second to my grandpa dying" followed by "okay Cool. whatever. I literally do not care actually (soz abt ur grandpa tho </3). you could set the ball to the other side of the school and as long as it was addressed to me i'll get it. i do not care. just toss to me pls i beg" and that's that. boom. promise made. will never be broken. ever.

And then there is, of course, the other promise that is "One day I'll win and stay on the court the longest" that gets established in the first episode and is KEPT and just. ugh. i love how this show establishes promises and no matter how crazy they may seem they're always kept.

I'm also just really normal about the way kghn exist and function in General. i swear everything they do is so insane to me THEY ARE INSANE. like the way their relationship is built on a foundation of trust that never even needed to be there in the first place, and the way that they've kept age old promises (like the one i mentioned in the previous paragraph and the fact that it took TEN YEARS for Hinata to finally make up on it), and the way they keep count of all their little competitions, and the way Hinata has always accepted Kageyama for who he is, flaws and all, and the way that Kageyama made a toss for Hinata that would let him fly as high as he wanted to (whenever i get to that part where they mention that most tosses are "setter sets and spiker meets that height" but point out that Hinata and Kageyama's attacks are always "spiker jumps and setter tosses to meet that height" I GO ABSOLUTELY WILD EVERY SINGLE TIME) OUGH i am so so so normal.

[corvidaes-crow]

Reposting this from the replies because hey I actually had the motivation to find the quotes that this post was missing (if anyone has the chapter where the Henituses find out about the body swap please let me know). And also character limit was frustrating me.

@somber-cryptid's comment: Question, did the narrative ever explicitly say Deruth didn't ever try to talk to his son after he married Violan and before the transmigration? Or is it just like, not mentioned? I get that Deruth did not support his son as he should have after the death of his wife, but did he really just throw money at him after that? We know that Deruth at the very least had a servant tailing him most of the time. I think we just lack information in general about their relationship.

Edited + extended reply for a bit more detail:

Cale and Deruth were like strangers to each other (ch 2) and Cale was spoiled with wealth and freedom (I don't remember the chapter, lmk if someone has it). That's about it as far as canon OG!Cale and Deruth info goes.

Deruth specifically says "he didn't want to know what his son was doing on the outside" enough to put a tail on him either (ch 8). The driver is probably under orders to report what Cale does, but only unobtrusive observations. That being said, Cale was being watched and reported on by Hans while he was inside the house (ch 8). We can't even take this as proof of Deruth's care for OG!Cale, since Hans is "suddenly" assigned to Cale in ch 4. It can be assumed that Hans only starts reporting on Cale's movements then. Which means that Cale was probably previously unmonitored both inside and outside the house. Or maybe the monitoring came in the form of reports/complaints from servants.

Actually, immediately after that report, it states, "There was a lot of things for [Deruth] to think about other than the change in Cale’s demeanor." (ch 8). Of course this doesn't mean Deruth didn't think about the change at all, but he has priorities and if he protects his lands, he protects Cale too. The collective over the individual. You've got to give it to Deruth, he is a good leader and count. But yes, there is a lack of textual presence to draw on about Deruth's fatherhood to begin with. A lot of it is left up to us to fill in.

In my opinion, a more involved father would also be more indelibly present in the plot, since Cale would have to proactively assuage Deruth's concerns or dodge possible interference. KRS!Cale is happy at how little Deruth cares about his actions and how easy it is to get things without any questions at all. Whether Deruth tried to reconnect with Cale after he remarried, failed and gave up, or he waited all those years hoping Cale would make the first move, I personally don't think it matters. The former implies that Deruth gave up on Cale years ago, probably back when Cale was 8 and started acting out. The latter implies he gave up before he even started trying, and expected a child to make the emotionally mature decision to open up the complicated dialogue about family relationships, death and love. Either way, he failed as a parent.

We can see so clearly how much KRS!Cale treasures familial relationships. Raon, Ohn, Hong, his amusement with the Wolf kids and their 'Vicross hyung,' his stiff yet kind relationship with the Henituse kids, his respect and empathy for Ron and Vicross' father-son relationship. Yu Ryeo-Han puts so much emphasis on found father figures too - Grandpa Ron's intimidating and forceful concern, Goldie Gramps poking well-meaning fun at/lamenting Cale's destructive tendencies, Duke Fredo and Naru and the White Star's whole uncle schtick. So why is Cale's biological father so overshadowed by these other paternal figures (excluding that last lot)?

We mightn't have much information about Deruth, but he's at such a disadvantage without it compared to all the other family dynamics in LCF that it feels almost like a deliberate subtextual criticism of his inaction and neglect on Yu Ryeo-Han's part. He cares, undeniably, but does it matter how much he cares if OG!Cale could not recognise it?

Declaration of competing interests /j: As the original tags say, I project on OG!Cale and Deruth's relationship when writing them/about them. As much as I try to keep my personal biases out of this, my reading of them is not as objective as I would like to be. I am immediately more critical of Deruth and his actions than I may be of other characters. That being said, any reading of any text is implicitly affected by the reader's background. If it's backed up with textual evidence, or finds meaning in the lack thereof, I'm so down to hear other readings!

Deruth Henituse bashing ahead, you have been warned.

I finally figured out why I hate Deruth Henituse. The novel, through Kim Roksu, barely lingers on his failings as a parent. Which, fair enough, I understand from a characterisation perspective why that wouldn't be a main focus. It just means I linger on that in canon's place. Why is Deruth satisfied with giving his child some exorbitant allowance? Why doesn't he ask at any point what it was used for, even when he thinks their relationship has improved? Why can he be a good person to everyone except OG!Cale? What is stopping him except his own cowardice and guilt?

There is not a single thing in LCF that redeems him as a father. We see how Ron grows to care for (KRS!)Cale, as well as Eruhaben and Fredo in their own pseudo-fatherly ways. We see how Deruth has not changed since 'Cale Henituse' improved. If he had been more grief-stricken finding out about Cale on-screen, maybe that would have redeemed him a bit in my eyes, but alas.

I need a scene where Deruth wakes up in the middle of the night heaving, tears streaming down his face when he realises that his son does not exist in their universe any more. When he realises his son has disappeared from their timeline, and likely did so believing everyone would prefer it that way. When he realises that belief is not exactly wrong, because everyone does prefer it this way.

That last realisation, he struggles with, because bad parents will never understand what they did wrong without significant internal struggle and a self-driven desire to understand. I need someone (Eruhaben, Ron, or even Violan) to notice his internal conflict and sit him down and ask him, straightforward and simple, "Which one do you prefer?" And they won't let him tell them his answer, that's not for them to know. But Deruth finds himself repeating the question over and over, which do I prefer?

It starts with 'neither, obviously, how could I pick a favourite?' but the guilt gnaws at him; his reflexive answer is not what his son, his sons, deserve. So he disassembles it all from there. What would he feel if they swapped back? What would he do then? Shower Cale with love, of course - but would he? Or would he find himself taking a step back, guilty and avoidant as always when it comes to his son?

And then, why would Deruth feel guilty? Because he hungers after a son who he can interact with without fearing Cale's hatred or resentment. He knows and fears his own inadequacy to heal their relationship. And the new soul doesn't mind it. The new soul, Cale, holds no expectations for him. No resentment. He doesn't know how to reconcile, but is there any need to if Cale is no longer the son he wronged?

So the answer to such a cruel question, which do you prefer, is... this one. The new one. The Cale that Deruth can be a proud father of, that he can hold his head high when talking about and fret over when he coughs blood or faints or leaves for another dangerous mission. The Cale that he knows exactly how to make happy. It's not hard, either, just food, rest and gold.

Deruth will never know how he could have made the original Cale happy. There is too much strife between them for Deruth to dare try to unravel it all, so he'll settle for wishing him all the best in future endeavours. This is penance enough, the guilt he will carry forever for not noticing sooner the loss of his firstborn son.

[docholligay]

PGSM and Parents--Motivation

(I had Ami and then Rei but so much of it was contrasting that I did TOPICS instead of just Ami, then Rei) 

Something that always makes me squeal with delight in these episodes is the way it sets up the idea that these things Ami and Rei are known for may not be their own motivations, but instead born from the circumstances of their lives. We almost take it for granted at this point: Ami wants to be a doctor. Rei is a shrine maiden. 

But PGSM doesn’t allow for things to exist in those easy spaces. In these episodes, when we deal with Ami and her mother about her future, it’s AMi’s mother badgering her about having missed cram school, and it’s not so much that she’s worried about Ami’s emotions or feelings as she is that AMi’s grades are going to slip. She’s so out of touch with AMi that she didn’t even realize Ami has FRIENDS now (More on this in another post.) 

Not only does she suggest that AMi switch school,s but it comes out that it’s not even really a suggestion. She’s already made the interview appointment, and all AMi has to do is come along and her mother will guide more of her life. 

When we go back to Ami, writing on the message board, so small she has to use a stepladder to reach the board*, we see her promising her mother that she will study hard and become a doctor. She’s a tiny thing, and much is made of the watershed moment in Rei’s life at that age, seeing her mother die but I think more than one grand event, a thousand tiny events can add up. Throughout the episodes, Ami talks about how she has never disobeyed or argued with her mother, ever. Her mother is a doctor, her motivation for that role comes out of little more than a life long reaching for her mother.** 

If medicine, if doctoring, is what her mother has time for, and truly loves, than AMi will become that, and that to me is so much more interesting than “I am smart and smart people become doctors” 

And Rei, God do I love this with Rei, because with Ami I don’t want to say I expected it, but I wasn’t as surprised. PGSM did so much for Ami in my eyes that I was already thinking of her with different frameworks, which though I love PGSm Rei, it wasn’t as different from the concept I already had of her in my head, so I wasn’t looking. 

This moment: 

Rocked me in the best way possible. The idea that Rei had no intrinsic motivation for the shrine, that it’s simply that she was GIVEN to it, is the thing I had no idea that I wanted but absolutely did. The shrine, then, is a just another one of the complex relationships that she’s learned to live with, instead of something she sought out. It’s her relationship with Minako, with the other, with being a sneshi in general. It’s the memory of her mother, it’s her hatred of her father, even this thing, this being a shrine maiden, is not allowed to be simple for Rei. In many ways, Rei is Usagi’s foil, and for me this is just another way. Usagi’s home life is easy, her relationship with her duty, her relationship with Mamaoru, all of it is, minus tiny hiccups very easy for her to engage with and come to to terms with, adn Rei doesn’t get that. Nothing gets to be easy for Rei, ever. 

*Let’s just say for a moment that you have communicate with your kid this way--how fucking terrible a parent do you have to be not to put it on THEIR level? Like YOU are reaching THEM? I would say that PGSM is making that exact point here, that Ami has always reached FOR her mother, and not the other way around, but I don’t know that it’s accurate to say that or if I’m just bringing that TO the text

**This whole THING is why I utterly reject the canon-but-terrible fact that Mercy became doctor because both her parents were doctors it’s so boring and disrespectful to Mercy’s own character, INTO THE CANON REFUSE PILE WITH YOU ALONG WITH SO MANY OTHER DUMBASS FACTS AND ASSPULLS.

[snappleapple]

their favorite types of kisses

people in this - dream, georgenotfound, sapnap, wilbur, punz, jschlatt, awesamdude, quackity

headcanon!

the most disgusting fluff i’ve ever written

warning - cursing, i think that’s all but if there is more please do not hesitate to tell me :)

word count - 2k

a/n: okay okay, i might’ve lied earlier about that being my last post but this was short and easy to make which is why i would like to feed my readers this early haha. anyways, enjoy and please disregard the errors in this post, i hate proof reading anything lol. also, i’ve been very indecisive on the title and i might change it later and ooh, my masterlist will be made soon. i’ve just been feeling very unproductive these days. also, please put in requests, i am so bored and dumb therefore there are no ideas in this brain. and if you’d like a part 2, i might add more people for the part 2!anyways, peace!

dream -

i get the feeling that dream’s favorite type of kisses would be cheek kisses

he just likes to watch as you struggle to reach his height

“aw look at those little legs do their thing.”

ends up with you not giving him his kiss

and mans becomes SO pouty

“y/n…come on. don’t be this way.” :(

if you don’t kiss him on the cheek, will also become SO clingy and whiny

“why won’t you KISS ME!”

clenches his fists and stomps away like a teenage girl during puberty

slamming the door to your room

so then you have to go and give him all the kisses he wants

his face is slammed into your pillow

you sit on the side of the bed and pet his hair

leading him to stare up at you with puppy dog eyes

“i will give you all the kisses you want. so stop being so pouty, you big baby.”

will literally leave zero feet of space between you and him

taps his cheek to tell you he wants kisses

when you go on dates, will literally make you stand on your tippy toes to get his kisses

does not bend down at all and actually lifts his head higher to tease you

in other words, clingy but rude hoe

george -

george is a classic romantic

he loves just lip kisses

pecks or lingering ones

he doesn’t care

mans don’t need too many kisses

nor does he need to be too clingy

total opposite of dream and sapnap *ahem clingy ahem*

if he wants a kiss,

he will come over to you and get it

doesn’t get pouty if you’re busy

just waits patiently

doesn’t enjoy it when you interrupt him when he’s streaming so you do your own thing

when you’re watching a movie with him,

he will literally only stare at you with his cute smile

and listen to your every criticism of the movie

he likes to just peck your lips whenever he feels like it

and you’re just not surprised anymore

just likes to stare at your lips whenever you talk

overall, is very sweet but not to an extent with showing affection

sapnap -

omg

sapnap just vibes with neck kisses

it tickles his neck and he loves them

giggles when you pepper kisses along his neck and flushes a deep red

“y/n. stop.” giggles between each word

but when you do, becomes the saddest person in the whole world

“i was joking.” :(

when he’s streaming and he begins to miss you

would leave his room and find you just to get a kiss

just like dream, would get angry if you give him no kisses

“GIVE ME KISSIES!”

very amusing for you

and you love to tease him

“i don’t want to give you kissies.”

continues to stare at you with a large frown until you give in and give him kissies

lsg supremacy but i’ll get into this later hehe

you better give him kisses or you’ll be dealing with a very sad sapnap

sadnap :(

wilbur -

wilbur, wilbur, wilbur

what can i even say

total nose kiss guy

i bet he’ll boop your nose twenty four seven

asks stupid questions just to get your attention

“y/n?”

“yes wilbur?”

“is a hotdog a sandwich?”

“why-“

“boop.”

“did you just say boop while you booped my nose?”

if he’s streaming and you bring him a snack

he will hold your face still and leave kisses on your nose

not too clingy but not too distant

likes to be just right with you

if its snowy outside and your noses get red

makes dumb jokes about he is rudolph and you’re mrs. rudolph

just a lot of smooches from wilby

takes you to a lot of hidden cafes in the city

and while you read, he balances his head on his palm, staring at you in admiration

if you’re insecure about your nose, you legit can’t be around wilbur because he will go on a tangent about how beautiful it is

substantially, soft boy hours all day bro, besides when he gets mad then you leave the hormonal man tf alone

punz -

i don’t see a lot of punz on tumblr so here we go

punz loves hand kisses

not to an extent where he has a hand fetish

god no but just like

when your holding hands, he’ll occasionally pull your hand up to his lips and leave a kiss

lots of hand holding

and i mean lots

constantly gets mad fun of for being a simp but ignores those comments because he genuinely loves you so much

likes it when you play with his hair and messing it up

also likes to compare hand sizes with you

always has a hand on your thigh or your hand in his whenever he is driving somewhere with you

even when you go on dates, always holding hands

no matter how sweaty your hand gets, he will hold on

sometimes if he holds on for too long, you have to tell him to let go

“punz, my hand is super sweaty. lets take a break from the hand holding.”

would flat out decline so you would have to pry your hand out of his

he would also love it when you would kiss his hand

makes him feel all polite and precious LOL

would also wrap his pinky along yours when you walk together

he once came with you to a family gathering for christmas and was so SHY

shy boy held your hand for security while your younger siblings made fun of you

afterwards, when you were under a mistletoe, he kisses you on the lips before kissing you on his favorite part of your body,

your hand

c!jschlatt -

jschlatt is a whole mess

the first time you met, he confessed that he would hate you for as long as you lived because you made fun of his boots

now he says he still strongly dislikes you but you’re more tolerable

doesn’t like it when you make him soft and HATES it when he blushes

“why must you do this to me, mother nature?”

also “hates” it when you even touch him because he “hates” you

when he actually confessed to you that he liked you with his grumpy usual grandpa voice,

you kissed him on his forehead, after he bent down of course

he is an actual giant and threatens to squash you like an ant if he feels the need to

is an absolute monster to you but loves it when you kiss his forehead because it makes him feel secure and loved

likes to watch the wind blow through your hair and mess it up but gives you his hat because he like you being “all pretty and shit”

gets SUPER jealous when you hug children

like for example, when you went over to a family gathering at his house, his cousins came up to hug you

and when you let go of the child, the man child comes and lugs you over his shoulder

gets yelled at by his mom and gives her a sheepish smile before rolling his eyes and throwing you down on the sofa set next to him

his mom doesn’t approve of the way he treats you but you tell her its fine because he’s cute

when you are far from any type of civilization or in the safety and solitude of your own home, he wants kisses on the forehead

pointing up to it and bending down so you could reach it

“y/n, i only love you because of your forehead kisses.”

“you only love me for my kisses?” :(

“mhm.”

actually feels slightly bad

“and because of your personality.”

“thank you-“

“shut up. we don’t talk about this.”

in conclusion, give him his forehead kisses or perish

awesamdude -

sam just adores it when you give him jawline kisses

not because it’s basically the only place you could reach but because it’s a sweet gesture

sam is all about sweetness

i mean have you even seen this man on his stream

he likes to watch you while you have conversations with your friends

not in a creepy way but more like an adoring way

cause man does he love you

i mean not only does he love you but his whole family does

and when you’re alone with sam, you love to bury him underneath all of your love

“i love you sam!”

“no i love you more y/n!”

“NO i LOVE you more!”

“NO i LOVE you MORE!”

“SAM NO. I LOVE YOU MORE!”

“okay thank you sweet pea.”

leaving you a bit confused but happy that he accepts your love

when you cuddle, omg

he never stops peppering kisses all over your face and vice versa because your relationship is disgustingly fluffy

when he lends you one of his sweatshirts, you sure as hell better wear that shit out or else (i am leaving a blank threat here)

sam loves technology but you guys sort of have a system

a system that involves mailing each other love letters rather than texting them

you guys also go on a ton of walks just about anywhere

hand holding is mandatory even though you probably look like a child compared to him

just give sam lots of love and in return, you’ll receive lots of love

quackity -

mans cannot leave you tf alone

likes to do ANYTHING freaky around you

“i will follow you to the ends of the earth, mi amor.” or

“ayy, back off.” if anyone gets too close to you

messes with you twenty four seven and makes it his job to drive you insane

plays horror games at two in the morning for fun

and when he gets scared, hides in the safety of your arms

“mi amor. i’m scared.”

“shut the fuck up and sleep, alex.”

“okay.” shuts up quickly and snuggles deeper into the crook of your neck

loves you so deeply but HATES your cat

“look at that little dumb thing stare at me. you got a problem bro?”

your cat also HATES alex

scratches him all the time and hisses at him

if you think sapnap is babie, wait till you meet alex

“y/n he bit me!”

when you glance down, you don’t even see a scratch

“kiss my boo boo.”

wtf

“what boo boo? there’s nothing there.”

gasps as if you offended him

“this boo boo that your el demonio did to me.”

this man will do anything to get boo boo kisses

istg, you once found him provoking your cat to get some scratches

in alex’s mind, ouchies = kisses from y/n

always has ouchies from god knows where and shows it to you

even though you find it annoying at first, you grow used to it and it sorta becomes your thing with alex

alex is babie and you need to take good care of him :)

[i-need-air]

Hybrid!AU Wolf!Bakugou Katsuki HCs Part 2.

Summary: Part 2 is here! While in part 1 it was mostly adoption and how he'd behave with you as a roommate, part two is him ✨ realizing things ✨ followed by how he'd be in a romantic relationship.

Word Count: 2k words [ oops, I did it again ]

Notes: So I said it'll be out in a few days but three [3] people asked me for part 2 and I'm a sucker soooooooo!! I could've just written a long ass fic but whatever, I thought I'd make it shorter in headcanons... hah lol right. Enjoy!

Part 1 here!

× he's a wild wolf so he's very active; like you need to understand he needs to go outside if not he'd get impatient, more aggressive, snappy, so once you took him on an easy hiking trail near your house and he loved it so once or twice a month you both go together to different places [ he demands it ]

× it's hard to keep up with him bc he's literally genetically engineered to be better than any very fit human being but he slows down for you

× morning runs at 5 a.m. bc he's insane

× is also a grandpa

× watched all documentaries on any streaming platform you could provide to him, also loves reading

× as months pass and you start to have your routine in order, word comes to you that an acquaintance is looking for a security guard at his mechanical shop two streets away from your house

× you casually mentioned it to Bakugou because he was starting to act anxious whenever you'd leave the house, so you assumed he was extra bored

× seriously, the house was spotlessly cleaned, he cooked amazingly and was occupied with your old laptop and going around the city to explore, but you guessed he wanted more independence?

× little did you know you were right but so wrong lol

× so Bakugou stared at you intensely and asked "Where?"

× it was as easy as telling him the location, him nodding and you thought he'd consider it; you didn't put any pressure on him because he already did so much to help around anyway

× well guess what bitch, next day he comes up to you saying you gotta co-sign his contract [cuz fuck society] meaning he got the job

× he was perfect for it because tall, intimidating, muscular wolf guy? who'd even mess with him? do they have a death wish?

× well, even before this he started to be... soft

× but once you really did show him you support whatever he wants to do, you give him his freedom and liberty of choice, he just reaaally changes, man

× he gets touchy, like his hands stay one second longer on your skin, he uses any excuse to have them on you, even his eyes follow you everywhere

× like c'mon, it's obvious but you didn't wanna put too much thought into it because we're respectful here

× not like you had a big fat crush on him and slowly started to realize it too

× sike bitch he knows

× you think his super-hearing didn't catch the way your heartbeat spikes up every single time he touches you? *please*

× i think he knows before you know

× meanwhile he is working to discover his feelings too

× so your relationship slowly turns into a couple's like relationship but without anything official and of course no kissing or such [ sadly ]

× would get jealous easily

× basically because nothing is talked between you two and deep down is insecure

× why the hell do you smell like other people? was it just a hug or something else? hell, why would you even hug people when he's right there??? just ask and don't touch some extras????

× another thing he does is getting very close to you while you talk to somebody else; scoffs and glares at them too

× ok so!! gifts! he really appreciates any gift you give him but scolds you if you do because you genuinely don't need to do that

× of course he just scolds you and calls you an idiot so I do hope you already learned his language

× it basically means that you shouldn't have done it, he's really grateful but seriously you shouldn't have

× like that one time you saved up money to get him a good computer and he forgot how to speak for like an hour

× the softest thank you ever afterwards

× still sounded rough but he was shocked as fuck

× one thing that remained in your brain were his friends, as sometimes he'd mention them

× so you took it upon yourself to find them, of course with his permission

× gets genuinely overwhelmed and plays it off saying he wouldn't mind knowing where those idiots ended but you didn't miss the way his voice trembled

× for you to find them you needed names and any information he could provide so that's when he, after a long silence and a mesmerized look on his face, started really talking about his life

× which was fucked; won't get much into detail but he was indeed in a fighting ring, people came and bet on whoever was stronger, he even had to fight his friends, everything was filled with abuse and their conditions were subhuman...

× just overall awful

× you couldn't help but hug him tight, feeling him shake in your arms

× with a hesitant voice he asked if you really did think there was a chance to find them

× just couldn't believe how amazing he felt in your arms

× or how your determination that night made his heart clench and took a big weight off his shoulders

× anywho;;;; after his first paycheck he takes you out on cute dates

× never calls them that, just demands you dress up [helps you out cuz boy got style] and takes you to a nice coffee shop or something

× AND on your fifth not date cuz you're not official but there's this weird tension between you date he finally kinda s n a p s

× you honestly didn't expect the waiter to flirt with you, he came out as very pushy and even if you were a lil uncomfortable you smiled and brushed it off

× when the waiter suggested giving you his number the sandy blond hybrid growled

× which i shit you not made the whole coffee shop freeze

× and you froze too

× but neither of you could say anything because the oblivious fuck kept talking

× basically joking about how you should keep your pet in a leash, to which you got up, threw some money on the table, grabbed Bakugou by the hand and leave before he'd rip someone's head off

× it only took you to touch Bakugou's arm to calm him down as he followed behind you wordlessly

× so you stood outside, angry, deep red eyes on your figure

× and silence

× his hand still in yours

× it was warm and amazing and you felt angry but your heart was beating loudly; angry at the waiter that you wanted to go full Karen on and get fired but excited because that growl shook you to the core, as if you could tell it was territorial and it was because of that pig flirting with you and did Bakugou Katsuki just lace his fingers with you?!

× "Oi." he interrupted your thoughts

× he turned your frame towards him and pulled you [kinda harshly] into him

× you'd make a comment about it but brain empty, just Bakugou Katsuki blushing

× "You're mine, you get it?"

× skdjflglykshs

× it sounded like he asked but it was a demand so oops you're his now ok bye

× like I said, boy isn't dumb so he lowkey knew you felt something too

× legit from there on he's just soft as fuck

× has a hard time opening up but visibly tries for you

× still continues to be a pain in the ass, Bakugou Style, but with a loving teasing attitude behind it

× his eyes give him away all the time

× they shine whenever you're in his field of view so congrats because, and this is the best part:

× WOLVES MATE FOREVER 💕💓💞💗💝💟

× oh yeah, he's yours, no takebacks

× he isn't one to half-ass the relationship; you're his now and he'll do anything for you

× big time touch starved it hurts

× because he is shy

× so whenever you introduce him to hand holding and cuddles, he can't get enough

× not big on PDA [ and not recommended since human-hybrid relationships are kiiiinda frowned upon but it's getting better ]

× although at home it's another deal

× seriously cuddle him; he's big into the protector vibe so he's a big spoon almost exclusively unless it's to sleep on top of you

× speaking of! accept that even if your relationship isn't that intimate, he'd still hint about sleeping together in the same bed

× so you better catch on when he does because he'll just click his tongue and call you needy

× while dragging you to bed

× sleeps holding you, his nose in your hair or in the crook of your neck

× unless it's summer then stay on your side 💅

× you know those kisses that just scream "I can't get enough of you"? that's his whole kissing vibe in a sentence

× hell, even the gentlest kiss gives that vibe away and it'll 100% leave you breathless

× doesn't have experience but is a very fast learner

× pays very close attention to your body language

× really into biting your skin enough to leave marks

× wear his hoodies

× no, I'm fucking serious, wear them now

× his chest puffs and he turns into a blushing mess when you do it the first times because his scent is on you

× scenting is a big thing for him so of course he's gonna love it

× 10x more territorial because now he has a mate to protect

× jealous but trusts you

× still very jealous though

× let's all pretend he is definitely not scenting you before you go out because it's in his nature and it is embarrassing

× the first time he tells you he loves you it's when he's feeling vulnerable

× the search for his friends is still on-going, he feels less than adequate as a providing mate, is pissed at the world for treating him like an inferior animal when they created him, everything is piled on his shoulders and whenever than happens he closes off

× you notice immediately

× will not tell you at first

× it's only when you go to bed and he turns his back to you when you really know it's bad

× even if you fought before, he'd angrily snuggle you at night-time

× now it's so different

× hug him, whisper sweet nothings in his ear, pull a blanket all over you both and big spoon him, he'd start shaking and talking in no time

× will hide his tears from you but you'd know

× "You're the best fucking thing that happened to me, [Y/N]... I—... Shit... I love you so much."

× neither of you slept that night

× excuse you? drink some water and pray to jesus;;; you talked about feelings, ok? communication is key in a relationship, puh-lease

× [ i have this whole nsfw hcs post already cookin in my brain so maybe I'll make it happen cuz y'all know he has a mating season and all that comes with it 👀 ]

× back to being children of jesus here

× thanks the moon, the heavens and all the gods for putting you in his life; boy didn't believe in destiny but deep down he thinks you were meant to be

× you still better wash the dishes or you'll get your ass kicked.

Extra:

× you did find some of his friends, little by little, and even if he acted nonchalant, like k das cool, it was obvious he was extremely happy

× so they did get adopted too

× you got in contact with them on social media and they were all very excited about meeting

× so it was a chaotic meeting with a dog hybrid called Kirishima and a mouse like vibrat yellow guy called Kaminari

× they all were looking for Bakugou too since they were very worried about where he ended

× Kirishima shed manly tears when seeing Bakugou

× as they instantly welcomed you in their small group, they informed you both that the majority of the squad was adopted and they're in contact, while they're still actively looking for the others

× cue to the softest expression you've seen on Bakugou in public followed by "That's good"

× silence

× shock and silence

× Kaminari turning to you and whispering "You did this" with a hand on his heart, lips trembling as he wiped an imaginary tear

× insert instantly snappy Bakugou

× when everyone laughed and continued to make plans to meet up with the others, he just looked at you conversing with them, soft expression again on his features and his chest warming

× "Oh! Look, he's doing it again! Quick, take a pictur—"

× "SHINE!"

[sparxymcfly]

Hiiiiiii I have just discovered ur blog and I'm so happy to find another bttf game fan!!!! Do you have more thoughts on it? (Sorry if this is a vague ask lol)

DO I HAVE MORE BTTF GAME THOUGHTS oh but of COURSE

this IS a really vague ask thdkjsafkdshfk I have thoughts I've scribbled down for later and thoughts that I've noted as "replay the game for more details and Then yell" and I'm also not sure exactly what you're looking for!! But I'll try because I Really Do Love The Game [and if I don't hit that itch for ya dw I guarantee this will not be the last time I talk about it]

OKAY so first just the fact that it feels like a natural fourth step for the trilogy- like I understand it's like not technically word of god canon, but accepting it as one potential canon is just so easy. The characters feel right, the voice they got for Marty is so good I spent a little bit forgetting that actually wasn't Fox, the story is ridiculous and heartfelt and action-packed in that special Back to the Future sort of way... magnificent. I think my literal only complaint was that the controls were a little difficult [I'm not sure what all versions there are, but I got the 30th anniversary edition on the PS4!], but even that was kinda hilarious. My most precious gameplay memory is the time I was almost to a checkpoint [I believe it was the "soup kitchen"] but the camera was still pointed backwards, and the little popup text on the bottom suddenly just said "SHARK!" which just. How could you Not click it and see what Marty's on about. Anyways that's how both my and Marty's ADHD hummed long enough that Marty walked for a solid minute all the way to the other end of the map to look at the shark movie poster and say one [1] line about it.

Trixie Trotter owns my whole soul and is one of my absolute favorite characters in the game. Telltale can hold their canon-questionability for all of time but they gave us Trixie and I think that makes the entire endeavor worth it. She's the definition of girlboss and her relationship with Artie is so cute. OH MY GOD and her line about how Marty is practically family now.... aough. I remember clocking in pretty fast to who she was on account of Marty's line about not recognizing her name even a little bit [and y'know, the way BTTF Rolls], but it's so fun getting to see her. OH AND SPEAKING OF THE SCENE WHERE HE SAYS THAT Marty awkwardly getting up on stage to sing if you try to click the mic is so precious thanks.

ARTIE IS GOOD TOO it's so wild how like at first he really is yet another mousehearted McFly, but to be perfectly honest he actually does have or at least Gain [through Marty's interference, possibly, which of course it is] a little more confidence than you'd first expect. Telling off Edna, not bending to Marty nagging to hear how he pulled off Trixie keeping her job... Artie has some good presence. Sparx uses yet ANOTHER moment to talk about another favorite tiny line, which my favorite line Marty has to Artie off the top of my head is if he keeps asking about Emmett's exhibit he can very abruptly get really grumpy and cryptic about how his dear grandpa Artie never took him to the zoo that one time. Marty dear I love you so much.

AND YOUNG EMMETT. From the get-go his introduction is so powerful because Doc goes "oh don't worry Marty I was super chill as a child" and then it turns out Emmett can think of like ten better things to do than talk to this random other kid that's interrupting his Math Muttering. Emmett is worth so so so so so much and also is adorable and also it's funny how even at 17 he is still one whole beanpole.

EDNA. I'm attacking her violently. LIKE she is an insanely good villain to be perfectly honest with you and I'm sure I'll have things to yell about her in the future [Emmett too, to be honest Artie and Trixie got slightly longer sections because I'm not 100% if I'll talk about them a ton more unprompted anytime soon] but she does such a good job at making me want to attack her. She's so insidious in a way that both fits her in neatly as a villain of the BTTF pantheon but puts her quite clearly separate from who Biff is as a villain- she LITERALLY even uses Biff as a pawn, that's the level she's at. She definitely does hit more on that psychological/mental game though, which is unsurprising considering her being a Strickland and all.

Oh yeah and speaking of Strickland, the payoff of Marty's "didn't that guy ever have hair??" in the first movie and the dedication to showing his kid picture Utterly Bald. It's the exact amount of respect that man deserves <3 which is zero if we're not utterly on the same page. I imagine we are.

AND IT'S JUST. An extremely interesting timeline and world to play in, which I already brought up once before but bears repeating mostly because I can never stop thinking about it. Like! Think about that, Marty spent eight months without Doc, but now this new timeline Doc has lived in Hill Valley basically the whole time.... there's So Much Here.

OOPS uh that ended up being like 90% talking about characters HELP but hey!!! I hope that was even a little bit of what you were hoping for? A little more blanket thoughts than deep theorizing, but rest assured there's more of that that just falls under "replay the game then yell" so I'm sure you'll be hearing more from me <3 I in fact didn't even mention the Citizen Brown timeline which :) just a matter of time

Some closing notes!

Marty having freckles is in fact the Only canon and I appreciate the game so deeply for it. The design for Marty is so so sooo good.

AND the fact that the game drills it in so much just how much of a Little Guy Marty is. Too short to see over a guard's shoulder, too short to be a storm trooper, has to hop to move that one statue, fits himself into a little box with no hesitation to sneak in with Room to Spare... that's little guy central, baby.

The game lampshading Marty's lack of food and rest SO incredibly hard. Someone please please feed him. Emmett let him sleep in his lab he needs something to eat so badly. If you're interested in more random partner quips I joked with my partner that the ending scene in actuality ends with Marty driving them directly to Olive Garden for their unlimited breadsticks. "Lead the way, Mr. McFly" the way is to the breadsticks, Doc, you may not remember the entire adventure Marty just went on but your son/best friend is Hungry.

OH SPEAKING OF MR MCFLY that melted me just a little bit not gonna lie but I absolutely can’t start talking about the Doc/Emmett and Marty moments in an already long post Or Else

actually like 90% of all my extra thoughts ever are going to Marty huh let's give this one to George. Shoutout to Citizen Brown timeline George for his "no way, not MY son" moment because I was literally CHEERING weenie George finally coming THROUGH it was so incredibly good

[raceofhearts]

#i have an au ra born in silver bazaar!#sky is the limit! - OK, you know the world is waiting for you to share Tsubame's backstory, right? >:D

It's nothing grand, though it did get long XD

Her parents were born and raised on Koshu, where her grandpa was a renowned woodworking master with a successful workshop in the capital. After the Empire invaded Doma, they started to worry about Hingashi's safety, despite the bakufu's reassurances - and after her mom got pregnant, they decided to move to Eorzea. It has strained their relationship with the family, although they did try to frame it as an expansion of the business overseas; grandpa was very much of a 'we don't need no damn ijin money' mindset. Still, they gathered their savings, their favourite tools and their courage, and set out to the west.

They settled in the Silver Bazaar, which at the time was a bustling commercial hub, and didn't waste time establishing a workshop there. Mum did most of the woodworking while dad, with little Tsubame on his hip, ran the books and charmed the suppliers and clients. Hingan techniques were a hot new commodity, so they lived comfortably enough to have two more kids. And if they felt any apprehension at the news of Garlemald moving onto Ala Mhigo, well, it was almost as far from their new home as Dalmasca was from Bukyo, and holding much better.

And then it wasn't. The Empire was closing in, and the Daitos were questioning their judgement. Their kids were balancing on the border between both cultures, never entirely at home in either. The workshop started to struggle after the influx of cheap Ala Mhigan labour. The letters from home had a distinctive feeling of grandpa's smug 'I told you so'… But persistence runs in the family, some would say to a fault. So they stayed. They tightened their belts, rolled up their sleeves and got to work. Ala Mhigans could work for them as well as for the competition. The kids grew up immersed in diversity, becoming their parents' guides. The Garleans retreated behind their wall. Life returned to normal.

Of course, that's when Meteor hit.

Tsubame was just shy of twenty at this point and, like most young people, was trying to find her place in life. She was a good woodworker but not passionate enough to make it her whole career. She had a good head for numbers, but balancing the books bored her terribly. She has learned to be stoic when dealing with difficult customers, but she lacked her father's easy charm. There was also something else, some itch under her skin, some piece missing from her life that she could never pinpoint. She yearned for more. And when fire rained from the sky, and a flock of terror-crazed hammer beaks stampeded the town, an adventurer jumped between the monsters and her family, and she knew she'd found it. She started training before the Dalamut shards even cooled.

Which proved helpful because after the Calamity the seas changed and their bustling port town dwindled to almost nothing, so her fledgling adventuring career was just what they needed to keep the workshop alive. And a few years later she found herself on a carriage to Ul'dah, clutching a letter from her mother to an old friend called Momodi.

[peralta-guaranteed]

After that Jake-Mac-Rosa fic, you dropped this queen: 👑 Next time, a Jake-Mac-Holt piece?

Oh dang, THAT's where I left it. Thank you for that. 🤪

Grandpa Holt is always a pleasure to write, but let's try for some Dad Holt too...

"Is everything alright, Peralta?"

Jake has been sitting off to the side of the group for a while now, so Holt finds it necessary to inquire. He's not used to the eager detective being so closed off and quiet unless something is wrong, and nothing he can think of right now strikes him as 'wrong': they have been celebrating the end of a rather arduous case for Diaz and Boyle, and Peralta had been as helpful as he could be as a tertiary, which was not his preferred position at all. The first round at Shaw's had been paid by himself as Captain, obviously, and the next by Diaz, so Boyle has promised to shoulder the third, were it to happen. Ergo Peralta could not be thinking about his usual money problems, which have lessened anyway ever since Santiago took over his budgeting.

That means something else entirely must be 'wrong' in order for Jake to keep out of the conversation, only reply when he is mentioned by name, and drift off to a corner of the bar while the other congregate around the various game options of the room.

"I'm good, Captain, thanks." Jake answers with a smile and an obvious lie, so Holt doesn't even bother replying, just raises one of his eyebrows a quarter of an inch, which he knows usually gets him results with Peralta. The ensuing sigh shows that it is still working.

"It's just..." Jake shrugs and rubs the back of his neck, another tell of his discomfort. "This is my first night out alone since the baby."

"Indeed." Holt replies. "I remember your phone call to Amy to inform her you would be back late today."

"Yeah." His hand is still on his neck, the other one clutched around his half empty beer bottle. "She told me to have fun. But..uh... I still kinda feel like I shouldn't be here."

"Do you think having a child robs you of autonomity? I know I am not speaking from experience, here, but it does seem to me like you are allowed to enjoy time away from your family, especially if your spouse insists you do."

"Getting drunk at a bar while my kid might be crying at home doesn't feel like the responsible thing to do, is all."

"Ah, I see." Holt nods, and he does see - he actually sees a lot more than what Jake might be trying to imply in his statement. He remembers how he used to self-medicate with alcohol in the past, after ending his relationship with that defense attorney, or even before, while feeling heartbroken over Santiago. He also remembers anecdotes about his father's drinking, not from Peralta himself, obviously, but from the rest of the squad, whenever Jake would cancel on a promised night out after Roger Peralta's visits. As much as Holt hates idioms, one of his most despised is probably 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree', and Jake seems to fear it as well.

"Here is my solution, then, if you are willing to listen." Jake looks up at Holt as he's standing in front of him, and his hand drops from his neck. "You make the beer you are currently drinking your last for the night, and spend some quality time with your colleagues instead, enjoying a few parlour games, and then you head home at an agreeable time and still see your child before he falls asleep."

Jake grins and takes a sip of his beer.

"Sounds like a plan, Cap." He nods, and Holt doesn't ignore the fact that Jake has been using this shortened nickname for him a lot lately, and how eerily similar it sounds to 'Dad' in his voice.

(An hour later, he receives a picture on his cellphone from Peralta: The man himself, asleep on his couch, with his infant son equally asleep on his chest. Santiago must have commandeered his phone, and Holt is glad for it.)

-*-

"Grampa!"

The sound of that little voice echoes through the hallway as loudly as the ensuing footsteps, and Holt feels something warm and solid wrap around his legs.

"Hello, McClane." He smiles down at the little boy currently clutching his knees, and he smiles back before raising his arms in an obvious demand to be lifted up. Holt obeys it immediately.

He notices Mac looks surprisingly tired for an otherwise very energetic two year old, and Amy, who's now following him to Holt's side, looks equally exhausted.

"Good afternoon, Captain. I'm so sorry, I should've messaged you that I have to bring Mac in for an hour, the babysitter cancelled and the day care couldn't keep him longer than-"

"It is quite alright, Santiago. McClane knows how to behave himself at the precinct, right?" He gives the little boy in his arms a look, and receives a strong and eager nod in reply, the curls on his head bouncing back and forth. If anyone were ever to question Peralta's parentage, that alone would classify them as an imbecile. "I can watch him for the time being, if you have paperwork you need to get in order before leaving for the day."

"God, Captain Holt, would you- that would be so- I was going to ask Rosa, because I know she's at her desk-"

Amy seems far more frazzled than usual, and Holt realises that her regular schedule must be in quite a disarray, considering she has been a single parent for about a week now. Mac must not have been making it easy for her, either, nor must the baby currently growing in her stomach, which has started to show about a month ago, at which point they finally informed the squad about it (when everyone had already figured it out just like last time).

"RoRo!" Mac yells, happily, almost leaning out of Holt's arms, but he quickly hugs him tighter.

"Your aunt Rosa is working, McClane, and we should not interrupt her. We can spend the time in my office, and you can draw if you would like."

"Roro working." He echoes like a little parrot. "Like Daddy."

"That's right." Holt has learned from the parenting homepages he's visited that you are to encourage a child trying to talk and string together a coherent topic, no matter how long it might take.

"Daddy's working away." Mac continues, and out of the corner of his eye Holt sees Amy's forehead wrinkle in worry.

"Yes, your father is in New Jersey for the week to work on a special case." It's not a dangerous case at all, rather a boring standard task that happened to involve some out-of-state suspects, but Jake had still been trying to hand off that trip to anyone who might be willing to help him out. Seeing his son with bags under his eyes and his wife with stresslines around her mouth and her hand on her belly, Holt understands why.

"He comes back." Mac says next, and it is a statement, but the look in his eyes makes it a question, and Holt is quick to answer. He's glad that he has a definite answer to that, instead of the empty promises and assurances he sometimes has to make as the head of a police department.

"Yes, your father will be back soon. In two days, in fact."

Mac holds up two grubby little fingers, and Holt nods with so much fervor it surprises himself.

"Very good, that is two. Only two days and two nights until your father is back home." The worry in Mac's eyes seems to dimish a little at that as he stares at his own fingers. "If we go to my office, we can check on the calendar exactly how long that is." He barely waits for another nod before taking the diaper bag out of Santiago's hands, who whispers a quiet, but relieved "Thank you" to him. He understands again that it means far more than to thank him for taking care of the child for an hour so.

(If he uses that hour to assure Mac several times that no matter what, his father will always find a way back to him with far more emotion in his voice than he'd usually use, well, no one needs to know. Peralta certainly seems happy about the picture he sends him of Mac with his captain's hat behind his desk.)

-*-

"Congratulations." Holt's hand on his shoulder is heavy, but not uncomfortably so, and it gives a quick squeeze before dropping.

They've done the whole customary introduction to the newborn baby, the apparently necessary picture round, and now Kevin is having an amicable chat with Amy in her hospital bed. They've waited two days for their official visit, to give the new parents a chance to get at least a few of their bearings. (Holt was there merely an hour after the birth, of course, with the rest of the squad, but that was a moment of joyful chaos and many voices.) Now the room is filled with an almost serene quiet, Amy's and Kevin's voices low and comfortable in the background as Holt watches the man he truly considers a son hold up his new granddaughter.

"Do you want to hold her again? I know you already did for the photos but-"

Holt only nods and takes the infant out of his hands with perfect ease. He's more used to a wriggling toddler now, but he still clearly remembers the days when Mac was equally quiet and frail in his arms. The little one in them now is asleep amidst all that is happening, her tiny mouth open just a fraction, and he feels her arm bump against his chest while she seems to be having a dream.

"She is as perfect as her older brother, Jake."

"Yeah." Jake smiles, and there's nothing of that boisterous, loud, cocky detective grin left in it that he used to know. It is soft and kind and full of love, and it might be one of Holt's favourite expressions. "Amy did a superb job again."

"As did you."

"I'm sure I don't gotta explain this to you, Cap, but I didn't really do much." Jake jokes, and Holt can tell he's trying to divert the attention to a simpler topic, but sometimes things must be said.

"You do a lot, Jacob." He continues, then. "Far more than a lot of fathers do. Far more than many would expect of you. And you do it all perfectly right, with heart and determination."

Jake nods, swallowing down a lump in his throat, it seems, and it might be a step too far for his already emotional state, but Holt feels like it needs to accompany his accolades.

"I am very proud of you, son."

Jake is very obviously fighting back tears as he replies.

"Thanks, dad."

The little girl in Holt's arms stirs right at this moment, and Jake seems to want to interject immediately in fear that she'll start crying, but she simply stares up at Holt with impossibly big, brown eyes for the first time. And he realises, just as he did two years ago when Mac's little hand tightened around his finger for the first time, that there is a child in this world that he would literally do anything for. There are four of them now, even if two of them have not fallen under the category of a child for several decades.

"Hello, Maya." He says to the little face that seems to be inspecting him. "I'm Captain Raymond Holt. Your grandfather."

He looks up at Kevin and Amy, who've stopped their conversation while Amy is lifting her phone in their direction, and then at Jake, who's looking at Maya as well with shining eyes. Then he looks back down at Maya, stretching her arms out of her swaddle as if she's reaching for him.

"You are a very lucky little girl."

[ljf613]

Zuko’s Memory Bias

I’ve talked about Azula’s potential memory bias towards her mother. In that same thread, I mentioned that Zuko also has memory bias towards his parents. What I didn’t think about until I was writing my recent post on his relationship with Azula is how those same biases may have affected the way he perceives her. 

(Warning: This is a very complex topic, and I suggest not reading/engaging if you find it potentially triggering or are unable to deal with it in a nuanced way. I am NOT trying to downplay abuse, nor am I trying to gaslight those who’ve been victimized by it.) 

Azula the Liar 

In “Zuko Alone,” we get a good sense of what Zuko’s life was like as a child. We see him interacting with his mother, sister, and (briefly) his father. And we get some insight into a line from “The Avatar State.” 

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “The Avatar State.” Zuko: “You lied to me! [Cut to Azula, who appears confident.]” Azula: “[Smugly.] Like I've never done that before.”/ End ID] 

There are two scenes in “Zuko Alone” where Zuko accuses Azula of lying to him. Look at these lines, and see if you notice a common denominator. 

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “Zuko Alone.” Young Azula: “[Sing-songy.] Dad's going to kill you! [Seriously.] Really, he is.” Young Zuko: “Ha-ha, Azula. Nice try.” Young Azula: “Fine, don't believe me. But I heard everything. Grandfather said Dad's punishment should fit his crime. [Imitates Azulon.] ‘You must know the pain of losing a first-born son. By sacrificing your own!’“ Young Zuko: “Liar!” Young Azula: “I'm only telling you for your own good. I know! Maybe you could find a nice Earth Kingdom family to adopt you!” Young Zuko: “Stop it! You're lying! Dad would never do that to me!”/ End ID]

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “Zuko Alone.” Young Zuko: “Where's Mom?” Young Azula: “No one knows. Oh, and last night, Grandpa passed away.” Young Zuko: “Not funny, Azula! You're sick. And I want my knife back, now. [Zuko tries to grab it, but misses as Azula quickly moves out of the way, and loudly grunts.]”/ End ID]

Do you see it yet? Twice Zuko thinks Azula is making some kind of joke, and both times (as far as canon shows us, though I’ve seen headcanons that argue differently) Azula is actually telling the truth. 

Azula has no qualms about lying to acheive her goals. We see this multiple times over the course of the series. But if all we had to go by was these two scenes, we might paint a very different picture. 

Because there’s another, more subtle thing that both of these scenes have in common: both times, Zuko chooses to believe that Azula is lying, rather than accept that a parent (read: Ozai, because both of these things are really his fault) has failed him. 

The Beast 

There’s a kind of cognitive bias that often occurs with victims of abuse. Rather than try to explain it, I’ll give an example of a fictional character from a different story who is a very clear example of how and why it happens. 

In book one of Trials of Apollo (The Hidden Oracle), we’re introduced to a girl named Meg McCaffrey. Meg is strong, tough, and great in a fight. She explains that it’s all because of her stepfather, who took her in off the streets and trained her. She seems to genuinely care about him, and talks about him affectionately. 

But there’s another man in Meg’s life: The Beast. The Beast is a constant presence in her nightmares. He killed her first father, and we soon learn that he’s one of the primary antagonists of the story, and planning on destroying the world. 

But eventually, we discover the truth: The Beast and Meg’s stepfather are the same person. 

Meg’s stepfather is an abuser, one who’s used a common tool of abusers everywhere-- detatching from the tool he uses to abuse her and anthromorphizing it. “Don’t make me angry,” he says, “or you’ll wake up The Beast, and then whatever happens is on your head.” 

And because Meg needs to believe that her stepfather cares about her, she projects all her negative feelings about him towards this figmentary “Beast” and blaming him for all the problems in her life. 

Are we noticing the connection to Zuko and his relationship with his father yet? 

My Father Loves Me 

For the first two and a half seasons (especially in season 1), Zuko is convinced that deep down, his father loves him, cares about him, wants him back home. He has to believe that, because if he doesn’t, then what has been the point of everything he’s done until now? 

Which means that tricking him into an Agni Kai and then burning his face must have been justified. It means that capturing the Avatar really will get him back his honor. It means that everything that’s gone wrong in his life is his own fault. 

Or, at least, almost everything. 

You’re Like My Sister 

The first time we ever hear of Azula (other than that shot of her smiling at the Agni Kai in “The Storm”) is when Zuko is talking to (unconcious) Aang after he captures him in “The Siege of the North, Part 2.” 

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “The Siege of the North, Part 2.” Zuko: “I finally have you, but I can't get you home because of this blizzard. [Stands up and looks outside the cave.] There's always something. Not that you would understand. You're like my sister. Everything always came easy to her. She's a firebending prodigy, and everyone adores her. My father says she was born lucky. He says I was lucky to be born. I don't need luck, though. I don't want it. I've always had to struggle and fight and that's made me strong. It's made me who I am.”/ End ID] 

There’s something interesting happening here. This is the first time Zuko’s been able to be totally honest about his feelings around Aang, and what does he do? He starts comparing Aang to, of all people, Azula. He’s projecting. He clearly has all of these negative feelings towards Azula, but he can’t do anything about them. So instead, he’s taking it out on Aang. 

Take every single interaction between Aang and Zuko in season one. Now realize that from Zuko’s perspective, he was dealing with his sister. 

Taking Aang prisoner on his ship? Azula. Constantly trying to capture Aang, only to be outsmarted by him? Azula. Shooting a blast of fire when Aang extends a potential hand of friendship? Azula. 

Because Aang, like Azula, is a perceived obstacle between himself and his father’s love. 

Father Says She Was Born Lucky 

Ozai didn’t just belittle Zuko-- he pitted his children against each other. He made it clear to Zuko that, even from the moment he was born, he would never, ever be as good at his sister. 

And all of this has caused a lot of rage and turmoil inside of Zuko. As self-depricating as he is, he does realize that not everything that’s gone wrong in his life is his fault. But we’ve already established that blaming his father would shatter his worldview. 

So who else does he have to blame? 

Azula. 

Azula, who was born lucky. Azula, who’s just so perfect. Azula, the prodigy. Azula, who everyone adores. Azula, who got everything. Azula, who always lies.  

Azula Always Lies 

Zuko talks a lot about honor. He talks a lot about capturing the Avatar. But when he’s stressed, when he’s feeling pressured, when he’s thinking about all the ways his life has gone wrong, he uses a different mantra. 

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “Zuko Alone.” Young Zuko: “[Chanting in a low voice.] Azula always lies. Azula always lies.” Cut to the older Zuko, lying in green grass, holding his traveler's hat to his chest. Zuko: “Azula always lies.”/ End ID]

Azula always lies. 

”Azula always lies” is comforting. It means “father doesn’t really consider me a miserable failure.” It means “he was never really going to kill me.” 

Instead of getting angry at all the ways his father has failed him, Zuko can just blame it on Azula’s lies. That way he doesn’t ever have to admit the real problem. 

Now, I’m not saying that Azula was a perfect sister, or even a particularly good one. I’m not saying that she never lied, because we know she did. I’m not saying she didn’t hurt him, or trick him, or manipulate him. What I’m saying is that Zuko’s skewed perception has lead him to blame her not only for all the ways she hurt him, but also all the ways Ozai failed him. 

“Okay,” you’re saying. “Say I agree with you. Say we assume that all of his negative feelings that really should have been directed at Ozai were instead directed at Azula. But that doesn’t matter now. Zuko eventually did realize that his father was wrong. They had a whole dramatic confrontation where Zuko told him what a horrible father he was and everything! He’s not projecting anymore, and his current feelings towards his sister should only be indicative of her actions and behaviors. Right?” 

Wrong. 

How Cognitive Bias Works 

Cognitive bias is insidious. It doesn’t just affect one memory, it ripples outwards, affecting all of them. And the vast majority of the time, we don’t even notice it happening. 

Zuko called Ozai out for two things, and two things only. 

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “The Day of Black Sun, Part 2: The Eclipse.” Zuko: “For so long, all I wanted was for you to love me, to accept me. I thought it was my honor I wanted, but really, I was just trying to please you. You, my father, who banished me just for talking out of turn. [Points a broadsword at his father.] My father, who challenged me, a thirteen-year-old boy, to an Agni Kai. [Cuts to shot of Ozai, looking angered.] How could you possibly justify a duel with a child?”/ End ID]

Zuko blames Ozai for his banishment, and for the Agni Kai. That is it. 

To be clear, I am not saying that Zuko thinks Ozai was a perfect father before all of this. Not at all. Zuko is aware that Ozai is “the worst father in the history of fathers.” 

But it isn’t like he’s gone back and inspected every single memory that involved Ozai and pinpointed all of the ways Ozai abuzed, manipulated, and gaslit him. He can’t. That requires both a level of objectivity he hasn’t reached, as well as a frame of reference for what normal looks like. Any victim of abuse-- especially childhood abuse-- will tell you that even though they know they were abused, they will often have or witness random interactions that will leave them thinking, “wait, this is what normally happens in this kind of situation? You mean [x] was also part of the abuse?” 

Not to mention that while Zuko didn’t examine his feelings towards Azula at any point before the finale. He had his epiphany about Ozai, and realized that his father had been wrong, but he’d always thought Azula was wrong. 

So while Zuko is aware that he had a bad father, he hasn’t actually stopped to consider how much of his anger towards his sister is actually about his father. 

(Again, I’m not blaming Zuko. None of this is his fault, any more than he’s at fault for the Air Nomad Genocide or the war. It’s just the reality of his situation.) 

Conclusion 

So what am I saying here? 

I’m saying that Zuko’s perception of his sister-- his anger, his frustration, his understanding of who she is-- is fundamentally biased. I’m saying Zuko isn’t viewing her from her own merits. I’m saying that Zuko doesn’t actually know her. He thinks he does, but he’s wrong. 

I’m adding another thing to the list of reasons why Zuko is not the person to try and help Azula through her trauma. 

I’m giving yet another example of how the fandom’s perception of Azula is also biased-- because the vast majority of our understanding of Azula’s character comes from Zuko. 

And unlike Zuko, we can detach ourselves from the narrative enough to realize that it might be worthwhile to re-examine our view of her.

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Four

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2960

Warnings: Itsy bitsy amount of angst, bad language words, mentions of phone sex and masturbation

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

“James?”

You held your breath after you uttered the name into the phone’s speaker. Your heart galloped at the thought of actually speaking to him. You’d be lying if you had said you hadn’t imagined how his voice sounded. You pictured something deep and raspy but drawled and sweet.

In the last five days, you’d imagined many things about James. Not just the sound of his voice, but his laugh, too. Rich and soothing. And of his scent- distinctly his own or a fresh, citrusy cologne of bergamot and tangerines. You imagined his rough, calloused hands sliding over your skin in slow motion.

And how he kissed. You daydreamed about that, too. Often. You couldn’t count how many times you’d stared at his sorry excuse for a selfie. You found yourself drawn to it daily. It was only part of his face, but what you could see was ruggedly handsome. His lips looked soft and delectable. You pictured yourself nibbling on his bottom lip, deepening its color to blush pink.

A sharp sigh escaped through your nose as you waited for his reply. Maybe he hadn’t heard you the first time? “James?” you asked again. “Hello?”

No response.

You pulled the phone away from your ear to make sure you were still connected. The call-time counter ticked ominously second by second on the screen. You tucked the device back under your hair to find the call was still active.

Did he get cold feet and change his mind last minute? He hadn’t hung up yet, so you weren’t exactly sure why he was waiting. Maybe he was tongue-tied? Or hadn’t expected you to pick up?

“Did you butt-dial me, James?” you laughed, trying to dispel some of your anxiety.

You heard a muffled “ shit” and two beeps. You glanced at the phone’s screen again, and call ended flashed in bold white.

Ignoring the hang-up, you immediately re-dialed James. The line rang and rang. And rang.

You weren’t confident you were going to speak with James, the longer the rings continued. He wasn’t ready to talk to you yet, and that was okay. It had only been five days.

Five days wasn’t long enough to build a bond over stupid Would You Rather? questions or form a simmering crush on a stranger that made your stomach flip whenever he sent you a funny cat meme. Nope. Five days was much too short of time for anything.

A generic voicemail greeting clicked over and rudely beeped at you. You took a deep breath and quickly thought of a reason to be calling someone who didn’t want to talk. “Hey, James. Just calling you back. It’s (Y/N), by the way. I’m not sure if you meant to call the first time or if sneaky ninjas have accosted you and somehow did a crazy pocket dial. Y’know, because of the whole military-trained assassin athlete mchottie thing. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And no pressure! If you’re not comfortable talking on the phone, I completely understand. I’m sweating bullets just talking to your voicemail box.” You chuckled nervously. You were starting to babble.

“Anyway,” you continued. “I hope you’re well. And don’t leave me hangin’. I really wanna know if you’d rather sneeze every hour or burp when you saw a pretty girl.” You laughed again. “Goodbye, James.”

You mashed the end call button and face-planted into one of the throw pillows on your couch. You groaned loudly into the fabric, chastising yourself in your head. If he didn’t want to talk before, he most definitely wouldn’t want to now. You shook your head in disbelief. Sneaky ninjas, seriously? What. The. Fuck?

Hours later, while in the middle of a Say Yes to the Dress marathon (dammit Robyn!) and a self-induced diabetic coma of ice cream and chips, your phone vibrated. You swat at it on the coffee table with a foot, only to realize you lack the limberness or the dexterity in your toes to retrieve the phone. As a result, it tumbled to the ground as you groaned in displeasure. Cursing your luck, you bent forward to pick it up. Awakening the phone’s black screen, a text popped into view.

James Sorry

Your heart lurched for a moment. With every second that had passed since you’d left your voicemail for James, the least likely you’d felt he’d call back or even respond. Hence the pity party with Ben & Jerry and Cool Ranch Doritos.

James My so-called “friends” grabbed my phone from me and led to accidentally calling you.

Ahh, the old “invade-your-friend’s-privacy” maneuver, you thought, shaking your head.

James I didn’t want to hang up on you, but I’m not quite ready to talk yet. I like what we have.

Your heart flopped. You liked what you had, too, but a small part of you- a dumb part- wanted just a little more.

Shaking off the feeling of longing churning your insides, you thumbed over the screen to reply.

You No worries, James. We can go at whatever speed you like.

It was weird to have the guy, for once, want to take things slow. Usually, it was always you pumping the brakes in the relationship. Was this even a relationship, though? Were all the texting and personal questions leading somewhere? Or were you bound to end up friends with an interesting story to tell your other friends?

Not allowing your negative thoughts to curtail the joy of finally texting James again, you quickly punched out:

You I’m just glad you’re okay and not being held for ransom somewhere.

James It would take a whole horde of ninjas to take me down.

You giggled at the confidence contained in this one text, but talking to a girl on the phone threw him for a loop. We are definitely back in junior high, you thought.

You You sound awfully confident for a man who wouldn’t talk to a friend on the phone.

James You don’t want to talk to me.

You pinched your eyebrows together in frustration to form a crease between them. Was he serious?

You Sure, I do. I have a bet going with myself on how your voice sounds. Is it deep and masculine or high-pitched like you sucked in helium?

James Which are you betting on?

You pulled your bottom lip in by your teeth, biting softly. You smirked as you thought of the two options. The former would be nice, but the latter would be pretty damn funny.

You I mean, deep and masculine is very desirable. Listening to the low timbre of a man’s voice is very relaxing for me. But, considering the ridiculous “selfie” you sent me, I’m placing my money on high-pitched.

James What was wrong with my selfie?!

Somehow, you knew that would get him worked up.

You Well, for starters: I can only see, like, part of your face! Did a blind person teach you how to take them??

You And secondly, there clearly wasn’t enough “Blue Steel.” With cheekbones and pouty lips like yours and a chiseled jaw, I’d be blue-steeling the shit out of all my selfies!

A wave of remorse washed over you once you hit send. Had you really compared him to Zoolander? Not only had you objectified him by mentioning how aesthetically pleasing he was (let’s face it- he’s really, really, really ridiculously good looking), but you may have criticized him for his terrible selfie abilities. At that moment, as you waited for the inevitable “fuck off” text to come through, you wished for a giant sinkhole to appear under your apartment and swallow you whole. What were you thinking?

James First off, I’m a selfie amateur. My past line of work limited my contact and/or exposure to the outside world. I didn’t learn what a selfie even was until recently. Remember, I’m also a man of mystery. I’m trying to keep up appearances and can’t reveal too much.

James What is “Blue Steel”? I’m not very pop-culture savvy unless it happened before 1944.

James Did you just call me pretty??

Your cheeks flushed with the heat of a thousand suns. He called you out as you expected him to do.

You Uh...

You Are we gonna talk about the fact you said you didn’t know about pop culture after 1944?? You are a grandpa!

James Nice try with the subject change! Admit it- you think I’m pretty.

You rolled your eyes. Of course, that would be the thing he focused on out of the whole conversation.

You I have no idea what you’re talking about.

If all else fails--deny, deny, deny.

James Right. Sure about that, doll?

Your pulse spiked.

You never did like pet names before you met James, but doll had a goo-ing effect on you for some reason. Everything seemed to turn to mush whenever he mentioned the word.

You Absolutely. I have no reason to believe that if you weren’t a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie, you’d be a male model. None what-so-ever.

James Uh-huh. I’m going to pretend that you aren’t lying through your teeth and getting back to our scintillating game of Would You Rather?

James I’d burp every time I saw a pretty dame, by the way. I wouldn’t want to take my chances with sneezing in my sleep. Would you rather eat only fruits or vegetables for one year?

Several nights after the voicemail incident, you were sitting in Penelope with Robyn after work. She wanted to meet up to decide which centerpieces worked best for the reception. Scattered across the table were three samples she and Kevin had narrowed it down to. With your thumb, while playing with a corner of the hand-drawn example closest to you, a sigh escaped your nose.

Your sister’s talent mesmerized you. Each storyboard showed the intricate detail of the flowers and candles themselves and what the tables would look like next to each other with every centerpiece. You were in awe.

“These are so good, Robbie! They must have taken forever to put together,” you said, admiring a different sample on the table.

“Nah,” she replied, brushing the compliment aside. “Just an afternoon’s time last week.”

“Well, shit. I hope they’re paying you the big bucks at work.”

She quirked an eyebrow devilishly as she reached for her drink. “You know it,” she jested before taking a sip.

You laughed at her cheekiness. Robyn had always been a go-getter. One of the many attributes you loved about her. Never took no for an answer.

“Soooo,” she drawled as she set her glass down. “How have you been?”

You looked up swiftly, eyeing her suspiciously before returning your gaze to the storyboard in your hands. “I’m still alive if that’s what you’re asking.” You set the drawing down to take a drink from your glass. “Haven’t been murdered yet, but the night is still young.”

Robyn rolled her eyes at your petulance. “You know I worry about you. Are you still texting James?”

You smiled sweetly. “Each day that goes by, you act more and more like Mom. You know that?”

Robyn scoffed. “I do not!”

She could deny it all she wanted, but Robyn was turning into the spitting image of your mother. You laughed again. “You do too. Even down to the eye roll.”

She folded her arms over her chest, waiting for you to answer her question.

Two could play this game.

You wiped the corner of your mouth with your napkin unhurriedly. “If you must know, yes, James and I are still texting.”

“Has he sent any dick pics or asked for nudes?” Robyn asked earnestly.

“Yup. We engage in wildly pornographic phone sex every night.”

Robyn glanced around the restaurant with eyes wide as saucers, making sure none of the other patrons heard you. “(Y/N), I’m serious! Has he propositioned you?”

You huffed a small laugh. “Nope,” you admitted. “In fact, he’s the one that wants to take things slow. He accidentally called me the other day and hung up from jitters.” Robyn didn’t need to know the full truth.

“The jitters?” Robyn queried.

“Yeah. I even called him back, but he let it go to voicemail.”

“Then, he must be weird or ugly.”

You grimaced at her assumption. “Ew, Robbie. Don’t be gross,” you chastised. “He’s the opposite of ugly. I might even go as far as to call him handsome.”

“How? You don’t know what he looks like,” Robyn questioned.

You took a quick sip of your drink, holding up a finger. “Au, contraire mon frère. He sent me a selfie in the very beginning.”

Robyn looked at you, perplexed. “You know you just called me your brother, right?”

You waved a hand at her to dismiss her accusation. “Ma soeur just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” You pulled your phone out to offer proof.

“You can barely see his face!” she exclaimed. “What if he’s horribly disfigured on the other side? Or missing an arm?”

You shrugged. “Then, he’s missing an arm.” You got a distant look in your eyes as you recalled the last ten days of texting with James. “He’s different, Robbie. He’s smart and funny and caring. Polite. It feels like he has an old soul. He calls me doll for chrissakes!”

“Are you sure he isn’t some crusty, old man?” Robyn gagged at the thought.

“No, I don’t,” you chuckled in response. The faraway look returned after a moment. “To me, he’s just James.”

Realization dawned on Robyn’s face, lighting her up like a light bulb. “Oh, my god. You like him.”

“Well, yeah,” you acknowledged, “he’s my friend.”

“No. You like him like him.”

Your face reddened quickly with the awareness of your feelings. They weren’t real, were they? Shaking your head, you replied, ”Nothing will happen, Robbie. It’s just a crush.”

Skeptically, she agreed, “Uh-huh.”

“What?”

“I believe that as much as I welcome a cold sore on my wedding day.” She scrunched her nose at the thought of a gross, red blemish on her face for her big day.

“Fine,” you acquiesced. “If I fall head over heels, madly in love with James by your wedding day, I’ll owe you a hundred bucks.”

Robyn raised a sculpted brow in interest. “I’m listening.”

“One hundred dollars. End of negotiation,” you stated. “I don’t have a spare hundred bucks, so it will be a motivator not to fall for James. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”

She smiled smugly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Uh-huh.”

“Will you stop saying that?�� you said, throwing a piece of lettuce at her face. “You definitely sound like Mom.”

Robyn huffed in annoyance, back-handing your shoulder softly. “Shuddup! I do not!”

You chortled heartily at the mini tantrum she was throwing about becoming Mom. You’d say anything at this point to get her to forget about you and James.

In all honesty, there was no you and James. Not really. You were friends, but could you move past that?

He was hiding something.

Something big.

And it wasn’t part of the whole “man of mystery” persona, either. James was holding back.

He had a hard time giving up anything personal to you that went beyond his likes and dislikes, which led you to believe he had found it difficult to trust.

It angered you deeply without really knowing why. Something in his past had sparked the inability. You only wish you knew what.

Deep down, you could really see yourself falling for James, and that scared you to death.

Breaking you from your reverie, Robyn piped up, “You know, James is probably jerking off to your voicemail.”

“Oh, absolutely!” you retorted, both of you dissolving into a giggling fit.

After leaving Robyn with a clear choice for centerpieces, you made your way back home. After a fifty-minute subway ride, you popped into the corner bodega for some essentials for the coming week.

Sauntering up the stairs to your third-floor walk-up, you steadied your armful of groceries with each step. It had been a long week, and now with the revelation of how you felt about James clouding your mind, a glass of wine, ice cream, and a bubble bath sounded good right about now.

You could barely see over the bags and juggled them precariously. As you stepped onto your floor, you recognized the voice of your next-door neighbor down the hall. He was talking with someone, but you couldn’t tell with whom or what about.

Blindly, you called out, “Hey, Peter? Can you be a lifesaver and help a neighbor out?” You heard the scuffle of footsteps over tile rush toward you.

Sighing in relief, you relinquished two bags to the arms reaching out. “Thanks, Pete! You’re a pe-”

You stopped mid-sentence when your view was finally cleared. Your sixteen-year-old neighbor wasn’t standing before you but a tall man with chestnut hair tied in a knot. Your lips parted slightly as your eyes widened to take in the figure’s full breadth holding your groceries.

Your eyes flicked to Peter as everything came back to focus. He was adjusting your other two bags in his arms.

“Miss (Y/L/N), this is Mr. Barnes from my Stark internship. He’s a friend. He was helping me with some history homework,” Peter explained, gesturing to the hulking man standing outside your apartment door.

“Peter,” you admonished, “how many times-” Last names weren’t meant to be spoken by friends slash neighbors.

Peter winced. “Right! Sorry, (Y/N)!” he apologized. “This is Bucky.”

Recognition crossed your face at the name. Smiling, you stuck out your hand in front of you. “Bucky Barnes, it’s nice to meet you.”

Bucky shifted one of your bags in his arms to reach out his hand. He smiled softly, “ Li-likewise.”  

Chapter Three | Chapter Five

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[procrastination-queenie]

Baby | JJK

Pairing: husband!au Jeon Jungkook x Wife!au reader.

Warning: c-section surgery, nothing too detailed. Baby fever. Very slight mention of smut. Fluff. The reader is a foreigner. Mentions of cultural differences.

The part written in italics is a flashback

Synopsis: You and Jungkook agreed not to have babies right away after your marriage, yet you find yourself witnessing a cute situation that leaves you thinking otherwise.

A/N: I am begging you guys for the gazillion time to please let me know what you think. Thanks in advance.😊

Word count: 4,178.

This part can be read as a continuation to Marry you.

Babies! Oh God! You cannot express how fed up you were because of that word. After you and Jungkook got married, your family members had nothing to talk about to you except babies. It's like they were pressuring you, well scratch that, they were, but unconsciously though. You couldn't blame them. You grew up in a culture that was not really open to the idea of "we are gonna wait a few years until we feel like we're ready."! Yeah, this ideology does not exist!

"Wait until when? I am not living more than I already am!" Your grandma would say, or "wait for what? Are you still getting to know each other after a five-year relationship?" Your grandpa would scoff, and your favourite one was "Hunny, are you kidding? You'll never be ready! No one is ever really ready! … You think me and my sister had you, kids, because we were ready?" Your auntie would say in disbelief laughing lightly at your logic with said sister, your mum, sitting next to her shaking her head in disappointment with a "can you believe her?" murmured in annoyance.

You didn't have the heart to blame your family that's how they were raised for generations, and for you to try and change their mind-set would be difficult, almost impossible. That is until you and Jungkook refused to talk upon the matter anymore saying that this is your life and you're free to do whatever you both agree on, only then did they stop nagging you; however, you knew they were not happy about it.

Jungkook on the other hand never really minded the idea of babies, in fact, if you told him that you were ready, he would gladly help you right away, if you know what I mean, but knowing your concerns, not only did he comfort you, but also respected that you were not there yet, mentally. You would always tell him "I sometimes think that I am still a baby, myself. How can I have one when I think like that!" He would chuckle, patting your head and cuddling you closely "Baby, it's okay. We don't need to have one right now! Why are you so worried about it?" He asked looking down at you since he was resting his chin on your head. "I mean, aren't you bothered about it? Don't you want to have your own child?" You pouted thinking that maybe you're holding one of Jungkook's wishes back which can make you feel that you're not good enough for him. "Well, baby, of course, I want a child, but I want to have it with you, and if you're not ready that's totally fine! I mean when I think about it, it is a huge deal, you're going to house a human being in your body for 9 long months, and your body would go through drastic changes, plus you'd have to not only take care of yourself but the baby growing inside you, as well!" Jungkook cradled you to his chest moving aside a lock of your hair behind your ear. "It's all amazing, but you're the one who's carrying a baby, I would never pressure you to do that if you're not ready!" He said looking into your eyes sincerely. "Oh, I love you so much!" You said giving him a few repetitive pecks on his lips. "How did I end up with such an amazing man!" Your lips barely meeting his, whispering before you closed the small gap between you, kissing him with all the passion and love you held for this wonderful husband of yours.

That all changed when one day you were at the hairdresser's getting a new hair cut. You were looking through your phone waiting for your turn until you noticed a woman entering the shop. She had this unusual aura to her, like something about her seemed to interest you, she walked around as if she had accomplished something amazing but wouldn't brag about it as if to let her accomplishment speak for itself. You understood why you felt that because minutes later, two identical accomplishments followed her suit. They were two identical boys who were probably 4 or 5 years of age. You were in awe when you saw them following their mummy, like lost puppies. They resembled her greatly, and behaved very well as if their mum promised to buy them Disneyland if they did. They stood next to her looking up at her as if she is their whole world.

For a moment you imagined that with Jungkook, and what would it feel like to have a baby in both of your lives. How would it feel to have a child of your own looking at you the way these boys looked at their mum.

For weeks to follow, you were almost obsessed with the twin boys you saw at the hair salon. How they dressed, how they behaved, how they sat obediently eating their sweets waiting for their mum to finish, how their mother would look at them through the mirror every once in a while to check on them, how they cutely complimented her saying that "mummy is the prettiest girl ever!" With wide eyes looking up in amazement and cute small sticky fingers from the sweets reaching up in the air in excitement. The whole thing kept repeating over and over in your head which led you to look up some photos of babies and reading more about them and what's new in the parenting world that parents try and apply with their kids. You even reached the point where you would stop at the babies section, racking through cute onesies, making Jungkook arch an eyebrow in amazement. "Are you pregnant or something?" He would ask eyeing your belly before looking up at your face trying to see what's going on inside your head. You would shake your head slightly before reluctantly letting go of the tiny baby clothes and taking Jungkook's hand to move to another department of the store.

Jungkook, too, could feel a change in your behaviour, like how you would gaze longingly at kids playing at the park when you had your picnics there, how you would pause to listen to a show that talks about babies and how to care for them, he even caught you reading a book about pregnancy. His heart skipped a beat when you went to visit your brother after his wife delivered a healthy baby girl; you kept holding her the whole time refusing to let anyone hold her unless it was your brother's wife because she needed to feed her. He even took a photo of you, you were looking at your niece so lovingly when you looked up at Jungkook smiling brightly as if she was your own. He put it as a background for his phone.

"Yaaah! If you want a baby that bad make one of your own!" Yoongi yelled playfully at Jungkook who wouldn't stop looking at the photo. "Ay! Don't pressure the kid." Namjoon said looking disappointedly at Yoongi for saying that. "Well, there's no pressure. It's just … I don't know y/n has been acting weird lately!" He took a last look at his phone's background before it displayed his worried features as he closed the screen. "What do you mean weird?" Jimin asked looking at Jungkook quizzically. "I don't know… it's… she'd stare at baby clothes when we go shopping even though there's no one we know who's going to give birth soon. I mean I could have brushed it off thinking that she wants to buy some as a gift or something, but no." Jungkook ruffled his black locks resting his elbows on his knees. "And you know she looks at them as if … as if she's imaging them on a certain baby, not the way she'd look at them as if inspecting the design or something, do you understand what I mean?" He looked up at his hyungs waiting for a confirmation that he's not imagining things. Namjoon nodded "you mean she inspecting the clothes as if she's buying it for her own baby, not just going through them?"

"YES!"Taehyung jumped at Jungkook's sudden outburst. "Sorry Hyung!" Jungkook muttered to Taehyung before focusing on Namjoon again. "Well, it's easy she wants a baby!" Hobi said shrugging and looking at Jungkook as if he's dumb and that this was as obvious as the sun. "No shit Sherlock! I know that. It's just she never said anything about it ." Jungkook was bewildered he didn't understand your sudden change of attitude, and if you had a change of heart about having a baby, then why didn't you tell him? "Just talk to her about it. See if she's ready or not, maybe she is, but something is holding her back, you never know!" Jin said patting Jungkook on the back. "we are definitely having a talk." Jungkook sighed lighting up his phone's screen to look lovingly at your photo holding your niece.

"Baby, you home?" Jungkook looked around the house for you while taking off his shoes and closing the door. "In here!" You answered from your bedroom. You heard his footsteps on the stairs knowing very well from the sound of it that he was skipping some. You rolled your eyes at your husband's child-like behaviour. "BABE!" He suddenly opened the door to your room, a huge smirk on his face as he stepped slowly towards you. "What? What's wrong? Why are you giving me that look?" You looked him up and down as if he's gone mental. Out of nowhere, he pounced on you like a cat making you put your book aside as you squirmed beneath him. "Oh my God, Kook get off. What's wrong with you!" You started laughing because he started leaving small pecks on your neck, and it was ticklish. "Tell me!" He suddenly stopped and looked into your eyes. "Tell you what?" You searched his face thinking that he might be drunk. "Tell me what you're not telling me!" He said, face getting closer to yours as you backed yours from his. "Are you drunk?" You said laughing, again. He was being unusual. "Nah, I am not. I just want to know what's wrong. Lately, you've been acting weird as if you're hiding something." He claimed as he sat beside you, taking you in his arms as your upper half laid on his bent knee; this was your position when you both had deep talks, he'd let you rest your back on his bent knee as he held you closely, usually playing with your hair locks. "You keep on checking baby clothes whenever we go shopping, you're reading a book about pregnancy and parenting, you listen to anything related to babies on the T.V. are you not telling me something?" He asked with concern filling his doe eyes as he caressed your cheek. "I … I've..." You sighed closing your eyes; words were not getting out of your mouth. "What? What is it baby? You can tell me." His thumb brushed your cheek in a soft motion encouraging you to speak up. "I … I want a baby." You said out of nowhere and looked at Jungkook to see his reaction. "Well, baby that's great. You know I don't mind, then what stopped you from telling me?" Jungkook flashed you his bunny smile, happy to know that you're ready to take this step with him. "It... It's just, you know I have been reading about it, pregnancy and stuff." He nodded, a sign for you to go on. "And it's all great and everything, but what if something went wrong?" You looked worriedly into your husband's confused eyes. "Like what if I have a miscarriage? What if something happens to the baby? Like what if …"

"Hold on, hold on … baby why are you trying to predict everything? Why can't you focus on the positive side?" He said trying to calm your raging thoughts. "What if my body is not strong enough to have a baby?"

"Baby,nooo!" Jungkook pulled you closer into his arms. "No, none of this is going to happen, we are going to keep checking up with a doctor, and everything will be fine. I'll always be by your side." He said pulling your head under his chin, then he pulled back to look you in the eyes, "and even if something happens, We will go through it together. I know it will be harder for you, but I swear that there's nothing in this life that could be offered to help you lessen your pain that I won't do it." He whispered sincerely, holding your face between his big warm hands. You hugged him tightly, "I love you so much, I don't even know what I did to deserve you!" You said crying over the fact that a man like Jungkook existed, a man who's willing to do anything for you. "Ah, baby I love you, too so much. I don't want you to doubt us or the future. You know why?" He chuckled feeling you shake your head. "Because the future is never guaranteed, but the only thing that is guaranteed is us, and I know that we're strong enough to face anything life throws at us, together." He said hugging you tighter. "Okay, baby?" He pulled back to look at you. You nodded as he wiped away your tears. "Now, about that baby..." He smirked as you laughed at his goofiness. He always knew how to make you laugh. Always.

Now fast forward a few years, you and Jungkook are parents now. It didn't take that long to get pregnant thanks to Jungkook's stamina. Your pregnancy went on smoothly and nothing bad happened. Just as Jungkook promised, he was always right there for you, for everything; from the moment you both found out, to birth-giving, till now. Speaking of which, the poor thing was so terrified when he knew that your doctor would perform a C-section and that you wouldn't be giving birth naturally.

"Is she supposed to be awake during the surgery?" Jungkook worriedly asked the doctor as he could see that the medication they have given you were not putting you to sleep. "Oh don't worry, Mr Jeon. She won't feel a thing, we drugged the part that we will be working on, and it's normal for her to be awake." Your Doctor smiled kindly at him knowing that this was his first time undergoing something like this. Jungkook was dressed in scrubs holding your hand to keep you from panicking, the doctor also hung up something like a sheet in front of you so you won't see them perform the surgery. "Are you okay?" Jungkook whispered, trying to make small conversation with you as you kept looking at him. You nodded still looking at him as he was getting more anxious by the minute because of your intense staring, "Jungkook why are you panicking, I am the one who's having her stomach open, not you." He laughed squeezing your hand, his nerves easing a bit. "How are you so cool with this?"

"I don't think me panicking right now, would do us any good, you know." Jungkook chuckled then kissed your forehead.

An hour has already passed by when they informed you that you delivered and that the surgery was almost over, they needed to stitch you up. "Jungkook go with the nurse!" You said urgently turning to look at him. "No baby, it's okay, your mum and my mum are waiting outside, I'll wait with you here." He said calming you down, he promised that he won't leave your side until you both get out of the surgery's room together. "But, this means that they'll know!" Jungkook chuckled at your worried expression. "It's okay baby, let them know." He said kissing your forehead. "You did great, and I am so proud of you!" He was tearing up because he could not understand how women could go through all of this, he was truly amazed. "I love you." You said looking into his teary eyes, "I love you, too baby so much!" He pecked your lips before the doctor announced that you were good to go.

It definitely wasn't easy, but with Jungkook there, everything was better.

Right now, you and Jungkook were asleep in each other's arms, appreciating the few hours of silence before everything turns back to its chaotic state in the morning. Since you've given birth, you could swear that you became a light sleeper. Your mum brushed off your marvellous discovery with a laugh claiming that it's normal for most mums to become light sleepers because you're always worried.

Just like now, your ears perked as you felt tiny footsteps softly padding towards your bedroom. And you were right, as you slowly turned in Jungkook's arms, so not to wake him up, you found your 3-year-old, Haneul, standing quietly by the door, sucking on his thumb and trying to search for you in the dark. "Haneul, baby I am here." You whispered and got up to see what's wrong. He padded softly towards you in his Stitch Kigurumi onesies that he insisted you buy from your last trip to Disneyland because that's his favourite character. "Oh baby what's wrong." You picked him up and held him in your arms cradling him as if to protect him from all the world's evil. You already knew what's wrong, he needed to change his diaper. "Come on baby, let's go to your room, daddy's still asleep." You left the room quietly hoping not to wake Jungkook up.

Haneul whimpered lightly in your arms seeing that he was irritated because of his diaper and he was still super sleepy. "Okay baby I'll change it for you, just please be quiet, your brother is still sleeping!" You prayed than Haneul won't throw a fit and wake up his twin, Hyun, from his sleep. It was too early to wake up the whole household right now.

"There, all done!" You whispered enthusiastically as he flashed a bunny-like grin at you just like his father. "Thanks, mummy." He grinned shaking his body cutely from side to side still laying on the changing table. "Anything for you baby!" You dived your head to his stomach attacking him with kisses as he squirmed beneath you. "Come on let's get you back to bed." You said putting him back in his crib and giving him a goodnight kiss. Before you could shut the door to the boys' room, you saw Haneul still standing in his crib giving you puppy eyes as he whimpered. You heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of your baby in discomfort. He wanted to sleep with you and Jungkook, but you can't let them get used to it. "Mummy!" Haneul whimpered reaching his tiny arms out for you. You sighed, your heart was too weak to leave him alone in the dark, you just couldn't do it. His eyes were starting to tear up as you went up to him. "God, you guys are my weakness." You muttered to yourself. As you were about to pick Haneul up, Hyun started to turn in his sleep, slowly waking up. Another pair of doe eyes slowly opened up, fluttering due to the dark smooth locks that were getting in its way. "Mummy!" You sighed great now both of them are awake and they will refuse to go back to sleep in their cribs.

Jungkook woke up to an empty bed, he jolted awake thinking you must be with the kids and that you might need his help, but didn't wake him up. He walked to the kids' bedroom to see you holding Haneul in your arms with him sucking on his thumb, drowsy eyes fighting sleep as you looked at Hyun who was carefully climbing out of his bed. "Careful baby!" You seemed to be fine, but your voice told otherwise, it was laced with worry, fearing that his leg might slip and he would get hurt. Hyun climbed down carefully then went up to you tugging on your nightdress and whimpering grumpily. Jungkook entered the room, "come here, buddy." He said scooping Hyun in his arms. "Baby, you woke up!" You frowned not liking the idea of him getting up so early. Since giving birth to your beautiful baby boys, Jungkook has put you and the boys as his top priority, and he was always there making sure you don't need anything. You didn't want him to wake up so early for once so that he could enjoy his sleep before going to the studio. "I didn't find you in my arms, so I got up to look for you." He said gazing at you lovingly. You kissed him on the cheek, he smiled and told you to go to bed with Haneul "I'll change Hyun's diaper and come right behind you." He said planting a kiss on your forehead. "Okay, baby." You said pulling Haneul closer to your chest.

A few minutes later, Jungkook and Hyun joined you and Haneul in bed. Haneul was fast asleep with his head resting on your chest, and Hyun was still awake looking up at Jungkook. "Come on buddy, go to sleep," Jungkook whispered running his fingers through Hyun's black locks that he inherited from his dad. "Appa!" Jungkook hummed softly in response. "Sing to me." Hyun traced his small fingers over Jungkook's cheek. Jungkook smiled closing his eyes for a few seconds enjoying the feeling as he started singing softly and quietly so that Hyun would go back to sleep.

You smiled, recalling all the things you've been through up until this moment. You remembered how you both were shocked when you found out you were having twins. That day was the best day of your life, you cried in happiness so much that Jungkook thought it was your hormones getting the best of you. "No... I'm just … I'm so happy." You said whipping your tears. That night you sat on the bed with Jungkook holding you in the same position that he would hold you when you're both having a deep conversation. You told him about the twins you saw that day, and how you were so fascinated by them and how they interacted with their mum. Jungkook smiled softly at you as he rubbed your belly. You both decided that you wouldn't tell anyone that you were having twins, and that it would be a surprise to your family and friends. The shock on their faces when they entered the room to congratulate you to find each of you holding a baby was priceless.

"Oh my God, are...are... You gave birth to twins!" Your grandma said in tears astonished by the surprise. "Oh, my dear bless you." She cried as you nodded with a big smile on your face. Your mum and Jungkook's mum were the ones who were in great shock because they were the ones who were waiting in the waiting room to suddenly find two nurses coming out with two babies. "How could you not tell us something like that?" Your mum asked whipping her tears as she looked at Haneul who was sleeping soundly in Jungkook's arms. "We wanted to surprise you." Jungkook replied as your dad smiled with tears in his eyes as he kept looking between you and Jungkook. "Congratulations sweetheart!" He planted a kiss on your forehead, proud of you. "Thanks, dad."

To say that the boys were shocked is an understatement. Poor Hobi kept looking left and right at each baby. "What the … twins?" Jimin burst in excitement as Yoongi grinned down at Haneul and Namjoon patting Jungkook's back smiling at Haneul, too. "They're so cute!" Jimin said excitedly as you handed him Hyun. "Careful, hyung!" Jungkook said worriedly, eyes watching Jimin like a hawk. "Look at our Jungkookie being a protective father," Jin said laughing with Taehyung bursting in laughter.

The boys kept pampering your kids to no end. Jin and Jungkook would even make sure that you and Lilly, Jin's wife, have play dates for the kids, seeing that Jin and Jungkook are the only fathers in the group. Life was treating you good with everyone surrounding you with love and care.

"What are you thinking?" Jungkook whispered. You looked at Hyun to find him fast asleep. "Nothing I was just remembering the day the boys blessed us with their existence." You smiled patting Hyun's back as you lifted the blanket to his shoulder. Jungkook's eyes gleamed at you as he smiled, probably remembering that day, too. Having kids is a huge deal to any couple but with Jungkook being there as he promised, you felt that everything is alright, and you didn't have anything to worry about. You and Jungkook fell into a deep sleep holding each other's hands as both Haneul and Hyun slept soundly between the two of you.

A/N:

Haneul means heavenly 🌌

Hyun means bright or intelligent.🤓

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Correspondence, Chapter 04

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary:  An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: Action-y in that there is offscreen violence and peril, injuries, talk of surgery and symptoms/effects of medical grade narcotics (morphine), more on that big ol’ age difference. Side notes: Agent Anderson of the L.A. field office has no relation to Agent Anderson of Quantico, VA, because Agent Anderson of the BAU is a national treasure. (I’m considering going back and renaming the OC, but as of right now this is the last we hear of him for a while). And I know no one really pays attention to them, but the time stamps on the texts match the time zone of the scene setting. Set in season 6, self beta’d.

Word Count: 8893

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

--

Chapter 04

--

Late September 2010

--

Spencer Reid wakes up to the early grey morning two weeks later, a perpetual haze shrouding his room long before his alarm was supposed to rouse him. He reaches blindly, blearing eyed and checks his phone for what feels like the hundredth time, only to find no messages waiting for him. A terrible, horrid feeling has been clawing at his chest and throat the longer it gets -- the more time that passes -- and he still hasn’t heard from Hotch. 

They’ve been messaging each other near constantly for months now, and it only seemed to get more intense after that fateful talk at the beginning of September. Where Hotch finally revealed he’d thought Spencer was much older than him, and not the other way around. Spencer had set him straight, as much as he could, and even that had been nerve-wracking to say the least. The two men were crossing into a territory neither really wanted to put a label on, and Spencer was both afraid of it and excited by it. Of what it could mean, and how long it could last, but he’d thought he’d had time to figure out a solution to his inadvertent secrecy.

Then, Hotch began working a case in Delaware two days ago. 

It seemed like a textbook unsub; maybe a little aggressive with anti-establishment overtones, but nothing they couldn’t handle. Nothing the BAU hasn’t seen before. They’d been closing in on the suspect, no location yet but some prospects that needed checking out, and the last Spencer had heard from Hotch…

It had been lunchtime for him, and midafternoon for the older man. The exchange hadn’t been anything of consequence, just their usual, easy correspondence. Hotch was going to check out that lead they’d spoken of, Spencer had a budget meeting as soon as he was done eating in the middle of his office hours, and they had a plan to play chess online that night. Hotch is still terrible at it, but he keeps coming back no matter how thoroughly Spencer wipes the floor with him. Now, sometimes they just forget about the game entirely after the first few minutes. It makes him smile each and every time, soft and fond and lighting a warmth inside him Spencer has… never felt before. 

Then Hotch hadn’t messaged him the rest of the night.

Hadn’t shown up online to play chess.

Hadn’t texted him goodnight, or even sent him an update on the case. 

Nothing in their conversations warranted such ostracization, and although Spencer has been ‘ghosted’ before (as his doctoral students would say) he knows Hotch would never do that. Not after everything, the history they’ve built the past months -- leaving nothing but the dread to sink in and spread like a stain.

All night, he imagines the worst.

By morning, he all but expects it.

--

[]9/22, 18:59[] Are you alright? Did something happen with the case?

[]9/22, 19:10[] If you were that scared of losing at chess, I can also beat you at online poker instead.

[]9/22, 19:30[] I’d suggest scrabble but that’s honestly not fair to you.

[]9/22, 21:55[] Hotch? 

[]9/22, 22:30[] I’m assuming that lead panned out, and you caught your unsub and are neck deep in interrogation.

[]9/22, 22:36[] I don’t want to imagine anything else, so that’s what I will picture.

[]9/23, 00:06[] Hotch please answer me. 

[]9/23, 05:32[] Please be okay.

--

Spencer arrives at Caltech looking a little more of a mess than usual. More than most are used to seeing him, at least, and it causes a few second glances from students he passes and other faculty -- but he really can’t find it in himself to care, this morning. His unruly curls, getting longer again, falling into his face and over his ears, are frizzy in their unkemptness. Bags under his eyes, normal, but he’s settled for glasses instead of his contacts. He has a spare pair in his desk, he’ll have to change them before class. His glasses somehow always make him look even younger. A mystery that boggles the mind, because once he had grown into his face a few years ago (around 26 or 27, close enough he had worried he would forever be cursed with a ‘baby face’) Spencer had thought he would finally be getting away from that. 

And yet, square jaw and ‘grandpa’ glasses and thin frame towering just over six feet did nothing in the slightest to aid him. Certainly not stopping a man outside the campus coffee shop from shouting “Watch where you’re going, kid!” as he near barrels over him on the sidewalk. Not his sweater vest or half suits, attire straight out of a 1940’s noir film (he’d even sported a vintage inspired undercut with his waves combed over for a while there, too. Way too much upkeep, as nice as it looked). Nothing makes him any more grown up in the eyes of the unsuspecting world, than he’d been without his five doctorates and board of director’s seat. No matter what he tried, it seems.

This has been a subliminal thing for years, something Spencer always said didn’t bother him in the slightest. And for a long time he didn’t care one way or the other, he just kept getting more degrees. All his life Spencer has been ‘too young’, always been ‘kid’ or ‘sport’ or ‘tiger’, even when running quantum physics equations in his head. And it didn’t matter. Not with his credentials and accomplishments and everything he now has to his name.

Until Hotch.

Now, Spencer cares.

Notices, even through his haze of worry and sleeplessness, how on the street it’s “Watch it, kid!” and fifteen yards later it’s “Good morning, Dr. Reid” as he steps into the Physics building where everyone knows him on sight. Knows him, and what he’s capable of. 

What if when Hotch met him all he saw was… another kid? 

If they ever met.

“Whoa, rough night Dr. Reid?” 

“Yes, you could say that,” he mumbles out as he signs in and scans his ID card, taking the stack of mail that the desk attendant hands him. But stops before he gets too far from the desk, backtracking. “Hey, have you watched the news this morning? Did anything show up about New England or Delaware?”

“Not that I saw, Dr. Reid,” she says in confusion, looking up from where she had been texting on her phone. “Just a whole lot of coverage on the shitshow at capital hill, as usual. Oh, and more depressing reports about the earthquake clean-up in New Zealand.” 

Of course, why would there be a news story about a killer in Delaware here in California. He’d have to look up everything online himself. 

“Thanks anyway, Carla.”

“No problem, Dr. Reid.”

-

Spencer spends way too long online that morning, searching for anything about the case Hotch and his team are working. He usually prefers paper copies of news media, at first barely knowing where to begin, but he falls into a wormhole of news outlets and local Delaware station websites, reading the thousands of webpages faster than he can scroll and click through them. But he can’t find anything pointing to a disturbance related to the case. There's nothing about a raid, or a shooting, or even an arrest -- which could all just be a part of the ongoing media blackout -- but it also does nothing to stop him from panicking. Spencer gives up after an hour, and diverts to other resources. Ones with a direct line to Hotch. 

With a drafted email pulled up to Ms. Penelope Garcia, the BAU's personal tech analyst, he ponders how to... even word this without it sounding too personal. Too much like he and Hotch have more than just a working relationship.

Because they do. They have... something.

Something that gives him fluttering sensations in his stomach, makes him check his phone constantly, and react to even the slightest chime similar to his text tone. Makes him smile when he sees Hotch's name on his notifications, in his email inbox, makes him message the man in the middle of the day at the most random thoughts. Just because he wants to make him laugh.

[]8/21, 15:36[] You're going to get me in trouble.

[]8/21, 15:38[] You didn’t laugh in front of your team, did you? The scandal.

[]8/21, 15:42[] I'm at a crime scene. There's a dead body in front of me.

[]8/21, 15:43[] Then why are you checking your phone?

[]8/21, 15:45[] You know why.

But that’s not something that is shared with the rest of the team, he’s sure. So he should be careful how he words his email, lest Ms. Garcia realize that Spencer isn’t asking purely as a colleague. 

Surely they know he has friends, though?

Chewing his lip, Spencer types out a brief email asking if Agent Hotchner is feeling well since he missed an appointment the night before and hasn’t been returning his calls. It’s a phrase he’s used often, so it comes naturally to Spencer as he types it out, and he realizes… he hasn’t called. He’s sent a dozen text messages, but not a phone call. Never a phone call. That was against the rules, the unspoken ones that always kept this friendship easy and free-flowing and evolving into something more.

But this feels like the closest to an emergency they’ve ever encountered before.  

He looks to his phone beside him on his desk, and tries to fight back the dueling forms of panic clawing at his chest. Listed in bullet points behind his eyes. Panic that Hotch might not answer, panic what that means for the man he’s been… becoming more and more inclined to than any other person he’s met in so long. Panic if he does answer, breaking that barrier of written words to spoken, and the opportunity to hear Hotch’s voice. But he would also hear Spencer’s, and then there would be no hiding just how… how young he really is. He still didn’t have a plan for that, wracking his overworked brain day and night for a way to incorporate the information into a conversation that wouldn’t stop everything in its tracks. 

But his phone is in his hand before he can stop himself, Hotch’s contact pulled up and his thumb hovering over the phone number with baited breath. 

Was he really going to do this?

He presses the touch screen and can hear the line connecting, the dial tone ring even before he gets the phone up to his ear and waits. It rings, and rings, and rings a fourth time -- before clicking over to voicemail. And Spencer’s hyper-fast thought processes fail him as he realizes far too late that he’s going to hear Hotch’s voice for the first time, anyway. Frozen in a panic, unsure if he wants to or if that had been something he wanted them to do together that the seconds slip by like water through his fingers and suddenly it’s too late.

“You’ve reached the voicemail box of -- (703)-567-8790 -- this caller is not available. Please leave a message after the tone--”

It’s an automated, female voice that rattles off the numbers and generic call back message, and Spencer hangs up before it can begin recording him. Exhaling a shaky breath, relief a flash flood on his nerves that nothing had been ruined between him and Hotch thanks to an ill-timed phone call. 

He keeps the momentum going without much thought, and adjusts his email to Ms. Garcia before sending it. 

It feels so understated, and yet over dramatic the more he thinks about it. The more he reads it.

.

Please let me know of his well-being.

.

God, no wonder Hotch thought he was in his 60’s. 

But Spencer has to keep the façade up, for now, not give away anything he doesn’t want to just because the emotional part of his brain is running rampant over the rational one. There are… many explanations as to why Hotch isn’t answering him. His gut feeling aside, he doesn’t need to be panicking like this. The world is still turning, he still has work to do, so Spencer tries to gather himself into some semblance of order and preps to talk to his doctoral students within the hour.

--

His morning routine progresses as usual, as if nothing at all is wrong with the world. Dr. Reid has his mandatory round up with his doctoral candidates going over thesis and dissertation parameters, class lecture schedules, updates, the works. Like morning announcements, but he requires them all to be there and to listen, and they all show up. Everyone knows of Spencer’s eidetic memory. He will certainly not forget a single date or schedule change, and he expects his students to not forget as well. 

But this morning Spencer is fully distracted, his mind elsewhere, somewhere in the state of Delaware with an agent who may or may not be in danger. Because Spencer cannot shake the feeling that something is wrong. It almost seems more like a fact than a feeling. The juxtaposition of his daily routine and this unfounded worry throws him entirely off kilter, and all of his students seem to know right away. 

Then, his distraction reaches its peak when his email pings, right in the middle of his department announcements. A response from Ms. Garcia of Quantico, VA flashing across his laptop screen. Spencer’s eyes skim the preview sentence in the pop-up box, and his voice trails off as his mind… whirls. 

.

Dr. Reid, I’m sorry to tell you I don’t know when Hotch will be available again. There was an incident, and he’s still in surg-

.

Surgery.

Surgery.

That vice-like grip of worry that has taken hold of him since last night tightens further, to the point Spencer can’t breathe. Hotch is in surgery, Hotch is hurt, and if he hasn’t been answering his phone since last night -- or even late yesterday afternoon -- it was not a minor thing.

Hotch is hurt. 

She doesn’t know when he will be--

If he will be --

“Dr. Reid? Are you okay?”

“I--” he’s still looking at the email pop-up box, and is clicking on it before he can stop himself. Immediately disconnecting his laptop from the projector as his email loads there. It takes him a fraction of a second to read the email. “I’m sorry, an emergency just came up. Kimmy, finish reading off the schedule for me?” He doesn’t even wait until she answers him, just picks up his laptop and retreats to his office as fast as his long legs will carry him.

.

--surgery and we’re still waiting on word. I know you 2 talk on the reg so I’ll keep you posted. 

Fret not, genius professor, our fearless leader has been through much worse than this.

.

She’s using informal speech patterns, which she has never done before. It bleeds her nervousness, and worries Spencer even more. Teetering on the edge of panic. Ms. Garcia also revealed she knows he and Hotch talk, but surprisingly that doesn’t have the effect he thought it would on his already rattled nerves. Instead, any and all reservations fall away as he types out a response much in the same way he and Hotch had started their friendship all those months ago.

.

Please, is there anything you are allowed to tell me about the case or his condition? We --

.

Spencer pauses, bites his lip as he considers crossing this boundary into the uncomfortable unknown, and then thinks about Hotch on a hospital operating table three thousand miles away.

“Screw it,” he mutters and continues to type.

.

--We’ve become good friends and I’m very worried.

.

The reply is almost immediate.

.

That makes 2 of us, boy wonder, but I’m already hacked into the hospital records database and Prentiss is in the waiting room for any immediate actions.

I’m sending you the case files and the incident report from last night. Maybe you can see some shiz we can’t b/c the bossman is tough but he’s been in surgery a long time. 

.

Of course, whatever he can do to help. Spencer’s heavy heart-beat triples in his chest as pulls up the files and immediately prints them out so he can read through them faster. Utilizing anything and everything he can do to aid the BAU team, and whatever Hotch has gotten himself into. But then, his mind sticks on something from the email. Boy Wonder. It stalls his hands mid-movement.

Ms. Garcia knows how young he is.

She must have done a background check on him, that would make sense since he’s been consulting so much lately. But why would Garcia know his age, and not Hotch? Wouldn’t she send the files to him directly? Had Hotch really known, all along?

Or did she do it on her own, and not tell him? Assuming her boss already knew everything about him. It’s too many questions and possibilities and they are interfering with what’s most important right now. Best to get it out of the way, no time to be indirect about it.

.

Ms. Garcia, did you update my dossier with the bureau after you ran my background check?

.

If you’re referring to why Hotch seems to think you’re rocking the senior discount at restaurants and not still getting carded for beer, then no I didn’t update it. I’m very anti-gov files having every detail of our lives in them, that’s what   I’m for, and I figured there was a reason he didn’t know. Your secret is safe with me, sugar bean.

.

Spencer hadn’t meant for it to be a secret at all, it just happened that way. 

The real reason is Agent Anderson of the LA field office is a dick, with a bully streak he never outgrew after high school, and didn’t bother filling out a full file on him the first time Spencer consulted for the FBI. Then, he couldn’t be bothered to update it when his consultations became more than a one time thing.

But that was all in the past now, and Spencer can’t even be upset about it. Because now he has Hotch.

.

Thank you, Ms. Garcia. I’ll let you know my findings soon.

.

He skims the file quickly, pulling information out at lightning speed. It appears a very straight-forward case. As straight-forward as a murderous sociopath can be, anyway. Very anti-establishment, like he and Hotch had discussed the previous day, aiming for specified targets that devolved to anyone in a uniform. Anyone who appears too official, or labels as official. 

It’s easy to see, now, why the unsub attacked Hotch instead of running from him. He practically served himself up on a silver platter. But there’s something about the kills that’s bothering Spencer. The knife wounds, bludgeoning, even the gunshots during the first murders when the unsub still hesitated -- it’s all overkill. Rage. Every single target has died from massive internal bleeding, M.E. reports all label the knife wounds and beatings as the cause. But the amount of blood left over, measured during autopsy, doesn’t add up. They bled too much. No wounds indicating intentional bleeding occurred, and the tox screens are all clean. 

Except, every victim’s hospital records show elevated potassium rates. Spencer’s hands, skimming down each and every page quick as they can, stop on a dime as his gaze zero in on the information. 

“Oh, God,” Spencer whispers, quiet and horrified. “--Hotch.”

There’s no time for email.

He picks up his phone, goes to an older email that has full contact details in the footer, and dials Ms. Garcia’s direct line in Quantico.

“Speak, and behold greatness.”

“Ms. Garcia, it’s Dr. Reid,” Spencer says, and his tone and quickened speech patterns gives way to his panic.

“Dr-- Dr.  Reid?” 

“Yes, quick there’s no time. Do you have Hotch’s hospital records in front of you still?” 

“Yes,” Garcia says, her voice a musical thing even in it’s breathless reaction to his heightened state of haste. “Updated every two minutes.”

“Is his potassium elevated?”

Some quick typing of keys that move faster than even he could ever hope to type. “...Yes.”

God. “Okay, okay I need you to call the hospital right now,” Spencer says in a spiel that all sounds like one word. “Whatever you have to do, he needs Sodium Polystyrene Sulfonate as soon as possible, to counteract the chemical imbalance or he’s going to go into kidney failure and bleed out.” 

There’s more typing going on and Ms. Garcia’s breathing has gone a little labored.

“Alright, alright I’m getting patched through. What else can you tell me?”

“I think he’s been dosed with something called an XG Compound, either Eastman or Zhao I have to look up the specific components and chemist. But they are a series of banned, experimental military-grade drugs that suffer effects of thinning the blood, that’s why they can’t stop the bleeding around his stab wounds and old scar tissue.” Hotch’s old wounds from Foyet would only exacerbate the condition, once it reached the kidney failure stage, but up until then the intrusions of hardened tissue is the only reason his abdominal cavity hasn’t been flooded with blood and drowned out his other organs. 

“Okay, okay I’m through, I’m keeping you on the line. Stand by-- ” then she clicks over and he’s left with a pulsating silence. Nothing remaining but continuing his work, and hoping he’d called in time. Hoping that Hotch will be alright.

--

Spencer is digging through his floor to ceiling bookshelves for the biology book on airborne pathogens given to him by a visiting Professor two years ago and he is hating himself for never cracking it in that moment. It’s nearly the last book he gets a hand on, because of course it is, and he makes it a third of the way through the book before Garcia is back on the line. The phone on the floor beside him and just barely within reach. 

“You literal genius, I could kiss you,” Garcia tells him in what can only be overstated relief, and Spencer snatches up his phone with a very undignified scramble. “They’ve had to do two transfusions on him and are prepping a third, but you were right he’s been dosed with that XG compound.”

“He’s going to be okay?” Spencer asks, still cross-legged on his office floor surrounded by books and holding his phone to his ear like a lifeline.

“Yes, yes my dear he’s going to be alright. They think. He’s not out of the woods yet and the surgery is still going on, but he -- he would have died within the next hour if you hadn’t found out what was wrong.”

Spencer’s heart is in his throat, her words doing the exact opposite of reassuring him. Hotch had been that close to dying, to being forever out of reach, because Spencer had been too scared to pick up the phone. 

“I should have called sooner,” he says, so quiet even someone in the room wouldn’t have heard him correctly. “I knew something was wrong.”

“Oh no, sugar don’t think like that. You just saved his life,” she pauses, like she wants to say something else, but diverts to an adjacent topic. “How did you know?”

“Autopsy reports. There wasn’t enough blood left in the bodies, they bled out too quickly. Then I saw the elevated Potassium,” he murmurs it all, rattled off without really thinking about it.

“And you just… knew all of that, without looking anything up?”

“That’s basically what I do. The only reason anyone calls me,” Spencer laughs but it holds no humor. “I know too much, make connections, and drink too much coffee.” 

“You drink and know things, oh God I hope you get that reference because you’re getting a coffee mug.”

Spencer laughs a little, despite the situation, and feels… lighter, somehow, even with the worry still plaguing him. Caught up in his chest like a bad cold. 

“I’m reading this textbook on airborne pathogens, I have a hunch, and I’ll send you anything I find that can help with the case,” Spencer continues, his voice not so heavy for a moment. “Just… tell me when he’s out of surgery? Keep me posted?”

“Of course, honey, you’ll be my first message,” Ms. Garcia assures him, but then she pauses again -- and he almost hangs up because it feels too anticipatory. “You should tell him, B.T.Dubs.”

Spencer hesitates more than is probably necessary.

“... I don’t know what good that will do,” he admits, quiet and unsure. “I’m not -- I’m not ready for this to be over.”

“You’re not that young, honey. Does he know you like him?”

“Mmhmm,” Spencer makes a nervous, affirmative sound. “And… he likes me, or who he thinks I am.”

“Don’t write him off just yet, Doc, let him speak for himself when he wakes up,”  Ms. Garcia all but scolds him, in as gentle a way as possible and Spencer appreciates that, at least. 

“--I’ll think about it.” 

--

Not long after Spencer finds what he’s looking for: military grade poisons that were banned for causing adverse effects, listed and categorized by chemist and agency. It is the Eastman compound, originated during the first invasion of Afghanistan. Their unsub has prolonged exposure, Spencer is sure, and that will narrow down the suspect pool immensely.

After he sends the information to Ms. Garcia, Spencer looks to his phone once more, where there is a block of text all from him himself in his correspondence with Hotch. Begging him to be alright, to answer him, and now that he knows that the man has a fighting chance -- or as much of one as he will be able to have, with where advanced medicine resides in the current conjecture of time -- there really isn’t much he can do now. But hope. And wait. And pray.

Except Spencer doesn’t believe in prayer, or God, or anything that might hear him. The only thing he really believes in is science, and facts, and none of that is very helpful to him right now. Except maybe the coincidental balance of the universe, in a theoretical physics sense, and unexplained phenomenon that have an equal and spatial balance to it. Anything with the descriptor ‘unexplained’ always draws him in like a moth to flame, and he knows he can typically find a semblance of comfort in the way his brain constantly connects dots and far off specks of information that not everyone can see at first glance. Constellations in the sky. But only when he has someone to tell it to, that even pretends to listen for a moment, and for a long while now… Hotch has been that someone. Hotch always listens to him.

Before he knows it, he’s typing into the text box once more --

[]9/23, 11:10[] You’re in surgery still, but Ms. Garcia has confirmed the treatments are working and they are able to actually repair the damage instead of treading water like they have been the past ten hours. I’ve had her personally in contact with the doctors and surgical staff, and all they’ve been able to tell us is to let them work and just pray for you.

[]9/23, 11:13[] Which is such an odd thing; men of science telling people to pray like the outcome of a surgery isn’t in their hands, but some theoretical astronomical entity. I know it’s probably just a ‘bedside-manner’ tactic, but it doesn’t help me in the slightest so it just irks me instead.

[]9/23, 11:15[] I don’t believe in prayer -- a shock, I’m sure -- but I do believe in the phenomenon of universal affirmation. It’s an interesting trend in history and spans cultures where if someone has something awaiting them, to live for, even if they are unaware of it… they will fight harder to cling to life. 

[]9/23, 11:18[] But I also know you will fight tooth and nail for Jack, and for your team that you treat like family, and maybe even me. I’d like to hope I’m included in that, and no amount of books or IQ points can make me think of something to contribute to help you keep fighting.

[]9/23, 11:19[] Just please keep fighting. Come back. And if I come up with something to entice you… I’ll let you know.

It eases a lot of the tension in his chest, talking to Hotch like this -- even if he’s just talking at him, in a place where he might never know what Spencer has had to say. But he can hope. Hope that Hotch will wake up and have thirty missed messages and see they are all from Spencer and it will make him smile. 

Spencer would give anything to see him smile, and he allows himself to hope that one day... he might get to. 

He might as well, while he’s sitting there hopelessly hoping for things beyond his control. 

Come back to me.

Spencer almost types it out, can see it in the text window though he hasn’t pressed a single letter, and closes his phone before he can. Pressing it to his mouth and closing his eyes and just… 

Hoping.

--

The hours roll over into the afternoon, and there’s still no word. 

Spencer has spent the majority of the day messaging Ms. Garcia, who has had no information beyond trivial updates here and there and Spencer has read more about surgical procedures and practices than he has in his entire life. Even raided the biology department’s library, surrounding himself with the comfort of books and files and filled his head with the soothing monotony of medical terms and safety protocols. 

But once noon has come and gone he finds himself staring into the bookshelves across from where he sits on the floor, among stacks of textbooks, with an epiphany trying to make itself known to him. Despite his every attempt to ignore it. 

His phone is back in his hand, there’s an email correspondence from Ms. Garcia that only briefly says Still nothing. And that makes up Spencer’s mind. 

[]9/23, 12:49[] I’ve thought of something.

What he types next makes it hard to breathe, his heart lodged in his throat, and it all comes flowing out of him much like before. His fingers keep moving, his emotional part of his brain steam-rolls over the rational one, and then he’s done and he’s tacked on six extra messages and Spencer has to put his phone away before he rereads it beyond what is deemed healthy or sane. 

Because he’s done what he could, and all he can do is believe that will be enough to… subliminally keep Hotch fighting. The day is only half over, and Spencer feels like he hasn’t slept in a week. 

It would be hours before he got the message that would send relief through his spine like a shot of Novocain. Just three words from Ms. Garcia, sent in haste in a text instead of an email.

{}9/23, 14:58{} He’s in recovery.

--

Hotch wakes up just barely the first time, the room spinning and hit with that familiar smell of anesthesia he can always taste as it fills his senses, before he slips back under. 

The second time is to a small pencil light being flashed in his eyes, staccato movements meant to test his pupil reactions, and an older woman in nurse’s scrubs saying his name and calling to him. He hums an affirmative, even though he isn’t fully returned to a working state of mind. Instinct, more than clarity.

“Welcome back, Agent Hotchner.”

“About damn time,” he hears Prentiss say from somewhere across the room. Probably leaning the wall, if that faux drone is anything to go by. The nurse gives her a look but his agent isn’t even fazed by it, as far as Hotch can see. It takes him a moment for his eyes to adjust that far. But he knows the look well enough he doesn’t actually have to see it. 

“Where is everyone? Is anyone else hurt?” Hotch can feel the words form on his tongue, droned out in a haze, his mind slowly coming back to him. 

“Good to see you, too, boss,” Prentiss says in mild exacerbation, coming up to the side of his bed but not taking a seat. She must have been waiting a long time, her whole stance jittery just like after long flights on cases. “Everyone is fine, you’re the only one that got into a knife fight with an unsub who’s into biological warfare.” Hotch blinks at her, trying to make her words make sense without asking it of her. He remembers going to a warehouse to follow a lead, but not much else after that. It’s coming back too slowly to keep up with her. Prentiss just sighs, and repeats herself. “Everyone is fine.” 

She regales him with a play by play, his own memories appearing like raindrops on a windshield to accompany her commentary. Slowly beginning to form a picture of what had happened. He’d been stabbed before, more than he cares to think about, and he’s been dosed with military-grade drugs before as well -- but never both at the same time. No wonder he feels like he’s been hit by a truck.

“You’re lucky to be alive, honestly,” she points out, hip resting against the plastic side panels of his hospital bed. 

“Yeah, I’m gathering that.”

“And your phone has been blowing up like crazy.” 

Hotch is finally able to sit up enough and see straight without his vision swimming, to find that his agent does indeed have his cell phone in her hands. 

“What?”

“Yeah, eight missed calls and three voicemails, and--” she squints at the screen before looking at him in astonished confusion, “eighty-seven missed text messages, from a whole bunch of people. I’m not reading through all of them. I didn’t know you were that popular.” 

“I’m the Unit Chief, popularity has nothing to do with it,” Hotch deadpans, more himself. Wanting to reach for his phone but his arms are still dealing with pins and needles sensations, sluggish to lift and his fingers uncooperative. “Who called me eight times?”

“Let’s see,” she unlocks his phone -- somehow, god damn it Prentiss -- and scrolls through his notifications. “Two calls from Jessica, one from me, three from Strauss (Jesus), one from Dr. Reid, and one from Garcia. It doesn’t say who the voicemails are from.”

Hotch suddenly feels much more alert, his heart rate monitor picking up but he does his best not to draw attention to it, instead looking up at Prentiss as carefully guarded as he ever is. 

“Dr. Reid called?” he tries to keep his voice even, and unaffected, but the aftereffects of the drugs in his system leave a little more hitch in his voice than he would have liked. 

“Yeah, he’s been talking to Garcia,” Prentiss says without much comment, still scrolling through his phone and making Hotch a little more than nervous. “Busted the case wide open, and saved your life while he was at it. We never would have known you were dosed with something if he hadn’t figured it out. Think you owe that old man a fruit basket.”

“Can I have my phone back?” 

“Don’t think you’re supposed to have it,” she says without looking up, still scrolling through his notifications. “Lots of junk e-mail…”

“One of those voicemails is probably Jack, I should call and let them know I’m alright,” Hotch tries to reason with her.

“He and Jess are already on their way up, they’ll land in an hour,” Prentiss tells him, but looks over her shoulder for that nurse as she makes to hand Hotch his phone anyway. Still hesitant despite her predilections to breaking every rule she can get away with.

“I still want it back,” Hotch insists, regretting saying it as soon as he does.

It catches Prentiss’ attention a little too sharply. “...why?” But at Hotch’s steady stare and solid silence, unwavering like he hadn’t just been in surgery for hours on end, she finally relents and hands it over, still giving him a suspicious look. 

“It’s important,” he finally admits, when she doesn’t stop staring for a good couple of minutes. Those perfectly shaped eyebrows raise near to her hairline, the profiler in her connecting more dots than should be humanly possible. 

A small smile teases her lips, though not fully forming there. “Now I wish I’d read them.” 

Hotch just gives her a reprimanding look of his own, but it’s short lived.

“Thank you, for staying.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Prentiss assures him, her smile going softer. “I’ll leave you to your mystery woman.” A beat, another raised eyebrow. “Person.” A knowing look, but then she exits and Hotch is able to look at his phone at his own discretion. 

- 

Hotch goes through the text messages with a brief glance; there’s so many of them. Other agents and agencies, his team in a group chat Garcia had started, Jessica left fifteen before someone got a hold of her, and Jack’s school sending reminders about soccer and parent teacher conferences. 

But 39 are from Spencer, and his heart constricts in his chest at the worry he must have caused the man. Aches next to the scars on his chest and the blood that doesn’t belong to him in his veins. And somewhere in the recesses of his mind, it’s coupled with a torturous feeling of longing. Even subtle jealousy, because even half drugged out of his mind Hotch hadn’t missed the precise word choices Prentiss used. Garcia has been talking to Spencer -- talking. 

Garcia got to hear him.

She talked to Spencer, when he still hadn’t, because of some unspoken rule Hotch isn’t even sure when they decided upon. He still knew so little about the man, and Spencer’s voice could tell him so much with just a few words. He could fill volumes with what he would learn from just a single message --

Without much further thought, Hotch pulls up his voice mail. Listens to the automated voices and the three messages there. None are from Spencer, although his heart had beat a little harder in anticipation -- enough his heart monitor beeped audibly next to him. Embarrassing as that was, like a lovestruck teenager. He’d glared at it and centered his breathing until his heart rate slowed back down, not wanting to alert the nurses station. Two of the voicemails are from Jessica’s phone, one of her worried out of her mind, and the other of Jack telling him they are coming to see him and he hopes he feels better soon. Just listening to his son speak more strongly than his aunt had or anyone else should in his situation, telling his daddy he loves him while the sounds of a commercial airline filter through the background, makes Hotch want to smile and sob all at once.

The last voicemail is from Garcia, telling him a similar story to what Prentiss had earlier, but with a bit more detail on her end. How ‘Dr. Reid’ called her out of the blue, because there had been no time for his usual emails, and gave them the information that saved his life. He’d been working the case diligently, ever since, and was checking up on him a lot. More than a lot. ‘Let him know you’re okay, when you wake up and get this. The poor guy is worried sick, and my updates only give him so much comfort.’

Spencer had actually called Garcia, when he hasn’t physically spoken to anyone in Quantico the entire time he’s consulted for them, just to save a few precious seconds to relay what he’d found. He’d even broken their rule, probably before hand, and called Hotch -- just to make sure he was okay. Hadn’t stopped working to help, the moment he found out he wasn’t.

It’s a strange thought, that if not for Spencer -- Hotch would be dead. That Jack would be flying up here for a very different reason. 

Hotch switches over to the text messages with a lump in his throat. Not at all prepared, emotionally, but needing to know.

The 39 messages start from the night before, when they were supposed to have had their usual online chess date. They range from playful banter, teasing edged in worry, and escalate to panic as the night wears on. Anxious worry bleeding through the single sentences, building and building until that lump in his throat feels like it might block off all air soon. 

Please be okay.

God, that alone starts to set a tone -- and reveals something Hotch hadn’t expected to find. Those three words give way to his speech pathology training, and all indicate that Spencer is… very likely younger than he’d originally thought. Some of Hotch’s assumptions might be close, even the teasing ones he’d only said because he’d been sure they were wrong. The other man is obviously beyond worried about him, as well. Petrified, despite knowing the risks of his job. They had become so close the past few months, were most definitely past the flirting stage and into something so tentative and wonderful Hotch can barely believe it some days. But they had never talked about this, about the possibility that Hotch might walk into a situation one day and not walk back out of it. 

Spencer’s messages soon give way to him just… talking at Hotch. Relaying what was happening, philosophical rants meant to ease his own mind and Hotch finds himself smiling softly at the man’s constant stream of thought, lectures at genius levels that he still feels so compelled to share with Hotch. Because they are that close. They really, truly, are -- and it brightens the fluttering feeling in his chest all the more. How Spencer is trying, subliminally, to draw Hotch back to the light. Three thousand miles away.

Please come back.

Hotch hears it loud and clear, the come back to me. Even unwritten. And it makes his heart skip a beat, aching as it does.

Then…

[]9/23, 15:49[] I’ve thought of something.

[]9/23, 15:52[] I’m 29.

Hotch doesn’t understand, at first. But then it hits him.

Years.  

29 years. 

Spencer is 29 years old. Proven, further, by the following messages sent after that.

[]9/23, 15:56[] I’m a certified child prodigy, on a registry and everything. I graduated high school at just twelve years old, and had my first Ph.D. by 15. Youngest in CalTech history.

29.

Jesus Christ, no wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell Hotch his age. 29 is… far younger than he expected. 

When Spencer was born, Hotch was getting his driver’s license. 16 years difference in age…

He keeps reading, despite the numb aftermath of a bomb going off inside his head, trying to process it and also hear the younger man out.

Younger. Spencer is 16 years younger than Hotch, and he finds himself scrubbing at his face to try and wake himself up further as he reads what Spencer sent.

[]9/23, 15:57[] I turn 30 at the end of October, and I was trying to wait until then to tell you. 

[]9/23, 16:00[] I’ve noticed a prominent dynamic shift in perception, between listing my age as in my 20’s and ‘almost 30’. It’s a numerical allusion our brains can’t help. You hear 29, you think 21. It happens with decades, too, once someone is outside the familial range of 10 years. +/- either side.

[]9/23, 16:02[] An age gap doesn’t sound as bad when I’m 30. That’s why I wanted to wait, just a little while longer, but if that universal affirmation phenomenon actually works for us -- I don’t mind dealing with the consequences.

[]9/23, 16:03[] Just please come back. 

[]9/23, 16:07[] Please be okay.

[]9/23, 16:10[] I miss you.

His heart is about to be ripped to shreds. 

Hotch feels terrible, because Spencer is right. 29 sounds so young, and it keeps repeating in his head over and over. But 29 isn’t the same as 21, he isn’t some college student still stumbling around trying to figure out his life. He has five Ph.D.’s, runs three departments at one of the best universities in the country, is consulted by the FBI and Homeland Security and very obviously has a reputation he upholds to the highest regard. Hotch had guessed Spencer was 32 not so long ago, what was the big difference between that and his actual age? From what little Spencer just shared of his life story, he’s never gotten to be a kid, so who was Hotch to consider him one? What gave him the right to be floored by this, did it actually change what he thought of Spencer? How he felt about him only moments prior to reading that?

I miss you.   Come back.   Please be okay.

I’m 29.

It could be the recent flirtation with death, the anesthesia or the morphine, even the gratitude that Hotch will get to see his son again and not leave him without both his parents -- there’s so many reasons for him to take pause as he considers the messages in front of him. 

But it feels a lot like the months of talking, and the countless late nights spent together, that pile up and up in his chest. A rising pressure that reminds Hotch that he and Spencer have something, and it’s not a normal, regular situation for either of them. Something that precedent, and everything Hotch has ever been told to hold to standard, doesn’t seem to fit. He and Spencer don’t seem to fit, when looked at afar or even on paper -- but they do. They really do. It was never supposed to be something that could be this easy, or normal in any capacity.

But what about their lives ever was?

[]9/23, 18:26[] I’m so sorry I worried you.

[]9/23, 18:26[] I miss you, too.

[]9/23, 18:27[] If I stop answering you, the nurse took my phone away. I hate hospitals.

[]9/23, 18:29[] Hotch, you scared me to death.

[]9/23, 18:30[] I know, I’m sorry.

[]9/23, 18:31[] From what I heard, you saved my life.

[]9/23, 18:33[] I don’t even know how to begin thanking you for that.

[]9/23, 18:36[] Just get better.

[]9/23, 18:38[] Which means resting, don’t glare at your nurses too much. They’re there to help you.

There’s a long stretch of a pause in their correspondence, which picks up so smooth and easy it’s as if they had never stopped. Like the last few days hadn’t happened at all. But they had, they were both looking at the messages to prove that. He does take pause, maybe more than he should, and Hotch knows miles away Spencer is just as nervous. Staring at his phone.

-

Hotch isn’t wrong. Spencer let out such an exclamation of relief at Hotch’s name on his notifications he about sobbed with it. He never cries, hasn’t in years -- but his eyes sting with relief and worry and… an emotion he doesn’t want to name.

[]9/23, 18:44[] What day is your birthday?

[]9/23, 18:45[] October 28th.

[]9/23, 18:45[] Same week as mine. November 2nd.

Hotch pauses, again, considers his next response… and 3,000 miles away Spencer can barely blink as he stares at his phone with mounting dread. 

[]9/23, 18:49[] I understand why you didn’t want to tell me. It’s alright.

[]9/23, 18:51[] Am I correct in assuming you’ve never been in a relationship with this much of an age gap?

It takes Hotch a moment to even gather the courage to type that out and send it. Knows it sounds almost too formal, for them, but Hotch also knows that he and Spencer are balanced on the edge of a knife, here, and… no matter what the outcome, everything is about to change between them.

Spencer licks his lips in nervousness, reading the line over and over although he has no need to. It feels like a tipping point, and he’s still… terrified this will be his last conversation with Hotch outside of case work. Ever. 

[]9/23, 18:55[] Never. 

[]9/23, 18:57[] I haven’t had many relationships at all. My peer groups have always been older than me, and people my own age never understood me enough to be interested. So it’s just something I was used to, going without.

[]9/23, 18:59[] This has been… the closest thing to what I’ve been told is normal that I’ve ever experienced. I’ve never had the chance to have something like this with someone, or connect in this way. I gave up, for a long while there.

[]9/23, 19:01[] I’ve been in a similar situation before, on an intellectual spectrum.

[]9/23, 19:03[] I’ve never--

Hotch pauses, again, putting his thoughts in order. Weighing it all, before taking that final leap. Spencer waiting with baited breath, all the more. 

But Hotch doesn’t regret what he sends. Not one bit.

[]9/23, 19:03[] I’ve never dated anyone younger than me like this, before, so we’ll both be on a learning curve.

[]9/23, 19:03[] But we will figure it out. Together.

Spencer’s breath catches, and he can’t seem to release it again. He can’t believe what he’s reading. What Hotch has sent him. 

He said ‘dated’.

He thought they were dating. Spencer isn’t quite sure he can trust his own eyes, despite the words being there in stark black and white on his phone screen.

[]9/23, 19:06[] Dating?

Hotch smiles, because he just knows -- from that single word text -- that Spencer has sent it not in admonishment or anything negative of the sort. But in hope. Confident that he recognizes the nuance in Spencer's voice even without ever having heard it, Hotch just knows, and it makes warmth blossom anew in his chest. Sends his heart rate monitor skittering across the machine all over again.

[]9/23, 19:08[] Hate to be the one to tell you, but all of those late nights where we talked for hours instead of playing chess? Those were dates.

Spencer has his hand over his mouth, still in disbelief that he hadn’t… fucked this up beyond repair. That his age hadn’t been the deal breaker he’d feared so vehemently for months now. That everything is still as it was, age difference and life-threatening situation, aside.

They were dating. All this time.

[]9/23, 19:10[] I should have worn nicer clothes.

Hotch laughs at his phone at the same time Spencer laughs at his own, having reread what he’d sent. 

3,000 miles away, and their quiet laughter coincides perfectly. 

[]9/23, 19:11[] Our next one I’m sure I’ll be in a hospital gown, so I think you’re in the clear.

[]9/23, 19:12[] Sounds like you’re making plans, already. 

[]9/23, 19:12[] You still need rest.

[]9/23, 19:14[] Well, I have to thank you somehow. And, I saw something about poker instead of chess? I’m actually not bad at poker.

[]9/23, 19:15[] … you remember I’m from Vegas, right?

[]9/23, 19:16[] We’ll play for fake money.

[]9/23, 19:18[] No such thing.

[]9/23, 19:19[] I do play for favors, though.

[]9/23, 19:19[] Oh? 

Hotch feels a wild, youthful thing unfurl in his chest as he types away. Mischievous, almost, in a way he only gets when he and Spencer are hours deep into conversations in the middle of the night. But it’s broad daylight, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too wide. Getting lost in the thrill of it all. In the officiality of it, now, and another curtain unveiled between them.

[]9/23, 19:20[] Did you have something in mind?

Spencer has to be blushing seven shades of red, right about now, and he hides his face from his phone for a moment before he realizes how ridiculous that is -- Hotch can’t see him. He can stop messaging the man any time he wants to.

Except he doesn’t want to.

[]9/23, 19:24[] I’ll get back to you.

Hotch can’t help it as he grins at his phone. A wry, suggestive thing, but he manages to school it before a passing nurse can see him -- how his eyes are alight with possibility. With elation, just from talking to the younger man that had seemed to capture a part of him he thought wasn’t available to anyone any more, and types out one last -- slightly more flirtatious subtext to put a cap on their conversation. To indicate he’s awaiting more, always wanting a little more of Dr. Spencer Reid.

He can blame it on the morphine, later. 

[]9/23, 19:25[] Looking forward to it.

--

(tbc...)

--

Tagged List:  @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom​ @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat​​​ @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @merpancake

[idy-ll-ique]

Winter Baby.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Requested: Nope

Summary: Bucky and Y/N meet when he goes to her library for the first time.

Author's Note: Hi there!! Whew, that was a long hiatus... anyway, I feel like some of you might enjoy this; personally, I'm not a big fan of my old writing but since I've not written anything new recently (marvel-related), I don't have a choice. So enjoy!

---

Y/N POV:

It wasn't easy owning a whole library alone.

But for money and livelihood, anything.

That was my mindset, I'm Y/N. I owned a small library in Manhattan, New York. To give you a more detailed address, it was on the same block as the Stark Tower, where the Avengers resided. 

Customers swarmed my library frequently, it had been well-known for decades. The thing is, it was inaugurated by my grandpa. It was then handed over to my mom and now, after her retirement, I handled the shop with a few of my friends. I loved the library with my life. 

Currently I was sitting on my seat at the reception, a Kafka book in my hand. When I heard the bell above the door ringing, I groaned in my mind. 

"Welcome to Twice Upon A Time, how may I help you?" I drawled, without looking up. When I heard someone clearing their throat, I looked up. My eyes widened slightly but I smiled at the Kennedy assassin, also known as Winter Soldier, or White Wolf, or, Bucky Barnes. 

"How may I help you, Mr Barnes?"

I was alone in the library, my friends having gone to eat lunch. I kindly refused, because someone needed to stay at the library. 

"Please tell me where the Divergent series is kept, doll," Mr Barnes questioned politely with a friendly smile. I stood up and led him to the fiction shelves. He got whatever book he needed, put the money on the counter and left. He said he'd return the book within seven days. As he left, I stared at the back of his head. 

To be really honest, I had a crush on him. I genuinely had a problem, I think, falling for the wrong person. First, my school bully (yuck), then Loki for a brief amount of time and now Bucky. As soon as I had seen him on the news, I was enticed. Obviously, I didn't tell anyone about my infatuation with Bucky. They'd judge. 

Once, I saw him in a café with Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, laughing and having fun. That was the day when I realized I had actual feelings for the guy. My heart involuntarily fluttered in my chest, snapping me out of my thoughts. I chuckled, shook my head and continued reading Kafka. 

Bucky POV:

I stared down at the book in my hand, which was suggested to me by Nat. It was the first book of a four-book series. I entered my bedroom, running a hand through my hair. 

As I sat reading, my mind wandered back to the small, cosy library, with the cute receptionist. I think she was the owner, I wasn't sure. She was famous in the area. 

I did hear a lot about the bookstore, everyone had something promising to say about it. That's what made me go there in the first place. Now I know why everyone said that 'Twice Upon A Time is a great place to buy books!' One round around the bookstore, I fell in love. 

The library held all kinds of books, from educational to adult, fiction, non-fiction, sci-fi... I shook my head and continued reading Divergent. 

Throughout the book, I couldn't get the owner's face out of my mind. Her Y/H/C hair, eyes as grey as mine, small figure, her curves, her clothes... whoa.

"Goddamn it, Bucky!" I groaned to myself, snapping the book shut. I stood up, deciding to go back to the library to ask her her name. If I didn't, I knew I wouldn't be in peace until I did.

And maybe ask her to coffee, suggested my mind. I agreed. The library was quite close by, it took me five minutes to get there. When I walked in, I didn't see her anywhere. A guy was sitting on her spot. "How may I help you, Mr Barnes?" he asked, smiling. "Uh... you know that girl who was sitting in your spot an hour ago? Where is she?"

"Oh, Y/N? Wait." He got up and disappeared into the back of the library. I stood where I was, Divergent still in my hand. My hands started to sweat. 

Why was I so anxious? Maybe because Y/N was so cute. The guy returned, Y/N behind him. "Hello, Mr Barnes," she greeted with a smile. 

"Hi, Y/N, I wanted to ask you something," I implored, glancing at the guy who was watching us with a smile. He got the indication and departed. 

"Anything," she mumbled, perplexed. "I wanted to ask you if you'd like to have coffee sometime," I chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. 

"Of course, Mr Barnes, I'd be honoured! Shall I give you my number, so you can contact me?" she asked with a cute smile after being momentarily stunned. I readily handed her my phone. She added her number in and gave the phone back. "I'll text you," I nodded. "Okay, Mr Barnes, have a good day," she called out as I turned to leave. 

"Bucky, please." I gave her one last smile and left the place. I went back to the Stark Tower, only to bump into Steve on my way in. "Hey Bucky, where have you been?" he inquired with a smile.

"Twice Upon A Time," I shrugged, holding up my book. "Oh, the owner of that store is a really sweet gal, do you know her? She's so polite!" he gushed. He knew her too? Damn. "I'm taking her out for coffee."

Hearing that Steve smirked at me. "Have fun, okay? She's awesome, I'll be the happiest if you two start a relationship," Steve wiggled his eyebrows. I gave his shoulders a push, laughing. "See you, champ." We did a fist-bump and he left the building. I went inside, straight to my room. 

I smiled to myself as I started reading Divergent again. This time, I didn't mind having Y/N's face implanted in my brain. I read the entire book in 5 hours. When I finished reading the book, I gasped. That was such an interesting book, I wanted to read the second part! 

The next morning I borrowed the second installation of the series, met Y/N, went home, read the book and finished it within a few hours once more. That happened until I finished reading the series. After finishing the series almost 5 days after I met Y/N, I finally decided to ask her out. I couldn't stop thinking about her, she was... attractive. 

Y/N POV:

“Jesus, fuck-” I cursed when my phone startled me. Why would someone want to call me at midnight? Sighing, I picked up the call. "Hello?" I answered, instantly recognizing the voice on the other end. "Y/N, hey, I was wondering if we can have that date tomorrow."

"Oh." I checked the calendar, "Sure. Tomorrow's Saturday anyway, the library is closed on Saturdays." He dramatically heaved a sigh of relief, which made me titter. "How about 8 pm, we meet at the restaurant down the lane?" he asked hopefully. "El Diablo? Sure! I love that place! Bye Bucky, I'll see you later!"

He ended the call and kept my phone away. I stood up and stretched, yawning. I turned the TV off, picked up my phone and went to my room. 

---

“Where are you, Buck?” I was waiting at the entrance of El Diablo for Bucky, dressed in a sweet, green dress. It reached my knees and it was strapless. I normally didn't dress like this, I felt uncomfortable. My friend, Anne said I looked beautiful and I trusted her, so... When I looked around again, I saw Bucky walking towards me, dressed in a suit. 

I almost drooled, damn, he looked so handsome. His hair was tied back, a few loose strands hanging around his shoulder. His stubble seemed too perfect to be real. His grey eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on me. A smile bloomed upon his face as he walked towards me. With each step he took, my heart fluttered. 

"Hi Y/N, you look beautiful."

He took my hand and pressed a kiss to it. Such a gentleman! I smiled as both of us walked into the restaurant, Bucky's arm around my waist. Half the restaurant turned to look at us. Their eyes widened, because what was the sweet bookstore owner doing with the Winter Soldier?  Bucky and I ignored the looks and sat down at a table. Water was served and two menus were placed on the table. I didn't even bother. 

This date seemed too fantastical to be real. Never in a million years would I have imagined I would be on a date with Bucky Barnes. Yet, here I was maintenant...

When Bucky was done with the menu I called the waiter over and placed our orders. When he went away, Bucky turned to me.  "You didn't even pick up the menu," he teased. I shrugged and crossed my arms, unfolding them with a blush when I realized they attracted his attention towards my accentuated... ahem...

"I have been here 2-3 times before, I know my favourite dish from here," I chuckled, playfully glaring at him when he smirked at my blush. Both of us were  chatting until our food arrived. We talked about our favourite book series as we devoured our food. His favourite series at the moment was obviously Divergent, while I was an avid Potterhead. 

---

After dinner, Bucky decided to take me back to my house. As we walked down the lane, a gust of wind blew, making me shiver. "Cold?" Bucky asked instantly, taking off his jacket. He placed the jacket over my shoulders and I thanked him. When we reached home, I turned to him. 

"Bye Bucky, I'll see you tomorrow."

I hugged him, kissing his cheek in the process. When he pulled away, both of us grinned at each other. He left. After the first date, Bucky and I hung out at the library a lot. Sometimes, he even bought Steve and Sam along, who were fun to hang out with, too.

Eventually, a few weeks later, Bucky asked me out again. This continued for 3-4 dates. As the 4th date ended with us standing outside the door to my house, Bucky turned to me. "Hey, Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?"

I froze and looked at Bucky, who was smiling at me, confident. “Wasn’t that already established?” I smirked, crossing my arms. “I thought so too, just wanted to make sure you knew.” I laughed loudly at his joke and a lopsided grin bloomed on his face.

My laughter abruptly stopped when he pulled me close to him, cupping the back of my head and holding it close to his shoulder with such intensity that I melted against him. When the hug felt too elongated, I tried to pull away. Bucky surprised me again when he gently pressed his lips to mine in a perfect kiss, according to me. 

I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms went around my waist, pulling me closer. “I wanna tell you something, don’t be mad,” he murmured against my lips. I hummed in a questioning tone, my mind still reeling in from the brilliant kiss.

“I love you. I know it has been only 4 months since we’ve known each other but I’m sure I love you. I’m not expecting you to feel the same way, but I wanted to get it off my chest. I really do love you, darling.”

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was flabbergasted. He loved me? Me, of all people? To be honest, I didn’t want to ruin this moment with unnecessary questioning, especially since I loved him back.

So I smiled.

“I love you, too, winter baby.”

“Never call me anything else ever again.”

“Deal, winter baby,” I chortled.

---

A/N: Please leave a like, it would mean a lot! Thanks for reading :)

[siren-virus]

Luckyboy!AU thing. So I went looking some stuff up, and I can perfectly imagine that Ben would name himself Nekomata, the name for the lucky cats in japanese; you know, because he wants the victims he rescues to have luck in their lives and to bring some of that to himself. However this confuses the Plumbers a whole lot, after all, why would a vigilante want to bring to himself and the others luck in education and love? Green Nekomatas bring luck in education and pink ones (close enough to magenta) bring luck towards love. Spoiler: Ben didn't know what the colors mean, he just thought that the lucky cats bring luck in general to people. His stickers could be coins in order to keep up the theme, or it could be some kind of cats to keep the cat aesthetic.

I also need some fluff between the different "people" (still don't know which noun to use to represent both humans and aliens that isn't "beings" (kinda uncomfortable using that one, since it also encapsulates non inteligent creatures) ) that visit the coffee shop while Ben is working there, like some conversation that he would have with Rook or Gwen, or how he could give some ideas to Cooper over the next technological thing to create/modify, a chat with Kevin about what alien technology he could sell to the civilians that would make him money AND avoid the eye of the Plumbers (and his vigilante persona too if they aren't dangerous)

Would his parents and Max surprise visit him to the coffee shop? I'd imagine that they would, not only to see him but also to have an excuse to give him money in the form of tips without being returen the money XD "You guys just gave me a big ass tip" "Well we just happen to like the service" "I GAVE YOU A GLASS OF WATER" "We REALLY like your service *wink*", meanwhile, Max's watching everything from the table sipping his own extravagant coffee (don't tell me he wouldn't find a way to add some tentacles to his coffee one way or another, forcing Ben to make one that way XD)

Also, what would happen with the love interests that Ben had in the prime dimension? Would he have met any of them in this timeline? How would his relationship with them be? Would any of them come visit him to his job?

Also also, I imagine that Ben would ask grandpa Max any time some of his friends want a tour through the Plumbers HQ to give them all a pass of some kind and do the tour himself (sometimes with his grandpa by his side, sometimes it's Rook, sometimes he's alone, and the best of times he would be with the other Plumber kids going alongside doing lots of pranks at the same time)

I wonder how many charms does Ben have in his home, since some of them are really useful and would help in a lot of things, like I imagine he would use a light charm and reduce his living costs that way, or a heating charm for the same effect.

Finally, I have to say that I love that animation you did of Ben hating early mornings (and if he was out all night and went without sleep, then thank fuck he works at a coffee shop XD), and that tiny detail of him snapping his fingers with both hands, it's just, ugh, I LOVE IT, it reminds me of The Addams Family opening theme. Maybe whenever he does a spell he does that double hand finger snap as a way to focus himself? It'd be a funny easter egg for anyone who would be able to discern it (aka Jimmy, 'cause let's be honest, he would totally find a way to link the double snap with the show somehow, and he would be totally right XD)

Damn dude, I love that whole thing. He would totally choose that name without thinking about it. Nekomata... Rolls off the tongue nicely.

Fluff, eh? People is good enough.

With Gwen, like I said in another post (did I? maybe...) Their conversations would be brief, usually Ben just trying to get a rise out of his cousin to force her into a chat.

Rook is similar, their conversations are brief, but if Ben asks the right questions, serves him a particularly good drink, saves extra amber ogia tarts for him. Rook would be more than happy to indulge. They don't talk about plumbers business, Rook's smart enough to know not to exchange information with a civilian. (Even though Ben probably knows it already.) More, Rook discusses Earth culture with Ben, trying to play catch up with slang, sometimes he'll even indulge some info about his home planet, his friends, family, and girlfriend.

I don't believe Ben and Cooper would talk much, the only reason he's in the cafe is because Manny, Helen, and Alan (if he's not working) forcefully dragged him from the lab, kicking and screaming.

"i'll have an espresso shot. with some honey too... please." Is the only thing he'll before engrossing himself in what tech he managed to bring along.

The one with Kevin is interesting, I do like the idea of Ben tryna push Kevin in the right direction. But Kevins love of tadenite, and the fact he sells weaponry would propbably prevent that.

Instead Ben would try to get as much info from him as possible, subtly giving Kevin a little extra when it comes to info exchange. Kevins lips are sealed. Unless Ben decides to spill some info on Gwen. Kevin plays dumb, but it's easy to spot his interest.

Absolutely, Max, his parents, AND Patelliday all come for visits. At first his parents would be super cautious entering the cafe, they did their best to try to make Ben quit and find a "normal cafe" to work at. They also did their best to convince Ben to move back in. They would deffinitely use any excuse under the sun to tip Ben. They make regular visits on saturdays for morning tea. They don't stick around long though, aliens still spook them a little.

Max and Patellliday - are a unit- would always order a drink together. Max going with the basic Flat White, with some tentacles, of course. Patelliday going for the Boba Fish Tank... they have to restock their gold fish tank every week.

Ben has a good poker face, having to make such a... variety of drinks, and watch how his customer drink/eat. It leaves scars...

Love interests.

Well with Julie, Ben unfortunately never got the confidence to ask her out. But they're really good friends still. (Ben also learned as he got older that not every girl he's friends with wants to date.) Julie comes by the cafe every now and again, always checking if Bens there first before entering, she still managed to get Ship surprisingly, so Ship is always happy to get a pupacino, can't drink it or anything. Just happy to smoosh his face into it.

With Kai, they never had that meeting when they were 10. She comes to Bellwood every now and again, she and Gwen are surprisingly good friends. They clash alot though.

Kai comes by the cafe sometimes too, Ben think she looks nice, but they've had no interactions. (She's not a coffee person, just a water gal.)

Esther, there's no meeting between them, as Ben that is. However, Esther can't deny she feels something towards Nekomata. The guys charming.

I think there's another girl, but I can't remember ;;;

Tour guides? At plumbers HQ? Much as Ben would love to guide his friends around, the amount of jailbreaks that happen there is too many (the plumbers have shit security)... He's not even allowed there most times unless there is someone capable by his side.

More often than not Ben would be disappointed to see one of his regulars, Fist Rick out on the streets the day after he was arrested.

Yes yes yes!! Ben uses a lot of his mana on little things to make his life easier and more convenient. This also comes at the cost of using too much energy, so normally he makes sure to do this when he knows he doesn't have work.

Thank! I work best when I have a visual setting ;; Maybe I should switch careers to be a vis dev.

Also ngl, the whole finger snapping thing, Idk where that came from ;; Could be a cool easter egg thingy

Some days Ben has to be stopped from drinking the coffee. Mr Baumann (yes, he's the head honcho) threatens to send Ben home on those days.