#'but it's a bigger screen' not if you watch at home with a laptop balanced 5 inches from your face

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

fucking bonkers to me that people watch movies in theaters. you can't control the volume. you can't rewind when you miss something. you can't choose your own subtitles. you can't even pause to use the bathroom??? there's only like 7 movies to choose from????? and you must pay money for this privilege? grotesque. repugnance. act of torture.

#all while sitting in a room full of strangers breathing out their germs. repugnant #it must be fucking wild not to have sensory processing issues. you people are aliens #'but it's a bigger screen' not if you watch at home with a laptop balanced 5 inches from your face #which people probably shouldn't do but i continue doggedly onward regardless

[soonhoonsol]

Welcome to soonhoonsol’s gif tutorial!

As a nice anon asked me how I make my gifs, I thought it’d be cool to create an in-depth tutorial :) Perhaps this can help some others enter the gif-ing world too!

What we’ll be using for this tutorial:

Software: Bandicam, Avisynth, Photoshop CC 2018, Topaz Labs

File Format: .mp4

Operating System: Windows

Disclaimer: This is just my method. Every gif maker works differently and has different preferences. What works for me may not work for you, and that’s completely okay!

Let’s get into it!

1. Find the best quality video you can find

This really depends on the content you want to gif. For variety shows, music videos or photoshoots, any video of [1080p] should be sufficient. Try not to use anything below 720p.

For stage performances, fancams tend to have higher resolutions [1440p, 4k]. Use these if your computer can handle it. If not, usually 1080p works fine. The best option would be to download .ts files, which provide clearer and less grainy videos.

For Seventeen, you can get .ts files from The Rosebay on Twitter :)

2. Screen recording

As a Windows user, I don’t have a built-in screen recorder on my laptop. So, I use Bandicam, which is a free screen recording software. The only con to it is that it has a watermark.

To combat the watermark, I always have the boundary box a little bigger than the video itself so that I can crop it out of the gif.

This is what the recording would look like:

Just record the scene(s) that you want to gif so your video file doesn’t end up too large! Your recording should be in .mp4 format.

(You may use pure .ts files in Avisynth but it never worked well for me so I usually screen record the .ts video and move on)

You can find your recorded videos in Documents > Bandicam.

3. Avisynth

I followed THIS tutorial to download Avisynth. This software is really helpful if you want sharp and clear gifs! I recommend to follow the steps in the tutorial as the below method stems from it.

- Once you have downloaded it, open up your recorded video from Step 2 and watch it. Take note of the duration you want to gif. (e.g. from 00:01 to 00:05)

- Drag your video file into normalwebrange.bat. On Windows, you can find this in File Explorer > Local Disk (C:) > video. For other .bat files, you may check out THIS tutorial.

- In the pop-up box, key in the start time for your gif (e.g. 00:00:01). It has to be in hh:mm:ss format. Press “enter”.

- Key in the end timing and press “enter” again. A resizer should pop up in an Internet Browser. I found that Firefox works best for me.

- In the resizer, you may indicate the size of the gif you’d like to make. You can also click and drag the video to resize and frame it to your liking. You may refer to THIS post for Tumblr dashboard sizing.

(These are some common gif sizes for stage performances):

1 gif - 540px by 540px (square)

2 gifs - 268px by 350px

3 gifs - 177/178px by 250px

- Under “Preprocessor”, select “debilinear” for the second box. For the first box, you may pick between qtgmc 30 (same frame rate as video) or qtgmc 60 (doubles the frame rate; smoother).

- You will also see “fast” or “slow” options. These are just how long the video will take to render. “Fast” will give you slightly lower quality as compared to “slow”, but usually is good enough.

(You can see that his features are sharper and more defined in the “slow” gif as compared to the “fast” one.)

- Copy the code in the white box. Navigate to the scripting window (it should have popped up with the resizer) and paste the code at line 17. Type a “#” before qtgmc on the same line. This will prevent the software from lagging.

- Click on the inverted triangle at the bottom of the screen. Your video will now appear in the scripting window. Drag the slider to the intended starting point of your gif and press the “home” key on your keyboard.

- Drag the slider again to the intended ending point of your gif and press the “end” key on your keyboard. This blue area you see is the duration of your gif.

- On an empty line (I usually go to line 8), place your cursor there and click “Apply” in the mini pop-up window. Afterwards, remove the “#” from line 17.

- Go to File > Save or press Ctrl + S to save the code. Close the scripting window. The video renderer will pop up. When it’s done, it will automatically close by itself.

4. Using Photoshop and Topaz

I’m using my school license for Photoshop 2018, but if you don’t have that, there are plenty of cracked versions for free. I don’t have any to recommend though so I’m sorry about that :(

I followed THIS video tutorial to download Topaz plug-ins for free. I use Topaz DeNoise (the most helpful) and Clean, but you may use others if you’d like :)

Alright, let’s dive in to the steps!

- Open up Photoshop and go to File > Import > Video Frames to Layers.

- A pop-up will appear. You can find your deinterlaced Avisynth video in File Explorer > Local Disk (C:) > video > temp > video.avi. Follow the settings in the picture and click “OK”.

- Go to Window > Timeline to open up the timeline. You should be able to see your gif spread out in frames. If you press the play button, it should play like a video.

- (Quick optional step I learned from THIS tutorial) Go to Image > Canvas and set the Resample option to “Bicubic (smooth gradients)”.)

- Select the first frame of your gif in the timeline. Shift select the last frame. Go to Window > Layers. Shift select these layers as well.

- With everything selected, click the 3 lines at the top right corner of the timeline. Select “Convert to Video Timeline”.

- At the top of the screen, select Filter > Convert for Smart Filters. Your layers will condense into one layer. Don’t worry, your gif is fine.

- Now it’s time to sharpen the gifs. Go to Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen. Play around with the settings to your liking!

- If you’ve downloaded Topaz correctly, it should appear under Filter > Topaz Labs. If a pop-up asks you for an activation key, you may use THESE to activate it for free.

- Go to Filter > Topaz Labs > DeNoise and/or Clean and play with the settings until you’re satisfied.

5. Blurring

If your gifs have captions/logos that are distracting, you’d want to blur them out. Don’t be like 2018 me that blurred out the logo frame by frame; it’s very tiring. Instead, using this method from @scoupsy‘s tutorial, you’ll save lots of time.

- In the Layers tab (Windows > Layers), select the “New Layer” icon. It should be blank.

- Select the Brush tool. Make sure the “Hardness” setting is below 20%. This will blend the blurring nicely into the gif.

(For the sake of this tutorial, I will be blurring out the Bandicam logo to show you.)

- Paint over the captions/logos. Make sure this is on the blank layer!

- Duplicate (Right Click > Duplicate) the gif layer and drag it so that it’s on top of the blank layer.

- Right click on the duplicate layer and select “Create Clipping Mask”.

- Go to Filter > Blur > Gaussian Blur and play around with the settings until you’re satisfied with the level of blurring. Click “OK”.

6. Flattening & Colouring

- Once you’re done with sharpening and/or blurring, click on the 3 lines on at the right corner of the video timeline and go to Convert Frames > Flatten Frames Into Clips.

- Topaz layers and blurring will take some time to render so you can just chill for now~

- When it’s done rendering, click again on the 3 lines and go to Convert Frames > Make Frames From Clips.

- Convert it back to the gif timeline by clicking on the 3-box icon at the bottom left of the timeline.

- Select the first frame of your gif. It must be the FIRST.

- Scroll to the top of the layers and select the layer at the top. Any other layers you add should be on top of this layer. VERY IMPORTANT!!

- In the Adjustments Tab (Window > Adjustments), there are many different things to play with. There’s a high chance you won’t use everything, but here’s a few of my favourites.

Levels - Adjust the brightness and contrast of your gif in depth.

Hue/Saturation - Useful for changing colours, or switching it to black and white.

Color Balance - Tweak the colours to your liking.

Colour Lookup - Comes with built-in LUTs that you can use as a preset. Great starting point for colouring. Saves time too. You can even download plug-ins for this. 11/10 tool.

Selective Colour - Adjust the vibrancy of specific colours.

- Colouring is completely up to the gifmaker. Go crazy go stupid :D

7. Exporting

We’re almost to the end!

- Set the timing for your gif.

If you used qtgmc30, the best timing would be 0.04s / 0.05s / 0.06s.

If you used qtgmc60, the best timing would be 0.02s / 0.03s / 0.04s.

- Once you’re satisfied with everything, go to File > Export > Save for Web (Legacy).

- Follow the settings in the picture below:

- Tumblr’s gif limit is 10mb per gif. Check the gif size at the bottom left of the pop-up window. Make sure it’s below 10mb; the smaller the better.

- Click “Save”. Choose where you’d like to save the gif.

- Done!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that’s it! You’ve successfully made a gif! Good job you :D

I hope this tutorial was helpful! Please leave some feedback if it helped, or if you have other methods you’d like to share :)

Lastly, if you have any questions, feel free to send in an ask or DM me!! :)

Good luck and happy gif-ing :’D

#gif tutorial #kpop gifs #avisynth tutorial #topaz tutorial #gifs #chey.resource #kpop #idk what else to tag so... #i finally posted the tutorial yay!! #please spare a reblog if you find this even remotely helpful thank you <3 #also to spread it hehe i spent a lot of time on this #if anyone has any questions please feel free to DM me!! #i apologize if there are any spelling errors

[mrvdocks]

Nightcall P.2

Summary: Kurt is obsessive over a model and kidnaps her, taking her along for the ride of the night. P.2

You feel the tiredness behind your eyes when they flutter open, your chest rises and falls slowly as you take in your surroundings. You were home. It was close to six now, but some light still came in through your shades and illuminated your living room sunset orange. 

You sit up in confusion, was the whole Spree a dream? More like a nightmare. 

Your head is killing you, almost as if there’s a jackhammer in your skull. 

You rub at your eyes tiredly, standing up too quick and needing to balance yourself on the arm of the couch you were just laying on. 

The apartment’s empty, save for some background noise coming from your laptop. 

That’s odd, you didn’t remember leaving your laptop on.

Your vision blurs for a moment but sharpens on the image in front of you. The chat in the live stream is going nuts with all sorts of comments ranging from “when are we going to see some gory shit?” to “bring back Bobby!” 

That’s when you realize the person on the live stream is you. 

The comments change to asking you if all of this is real and if Kurt is coming back. 

Your eyes widen as you read his name. 

That’s when you hear him. 

“Oh good, you’re awake. I was starting to get scared that I used too much of the stuff.” 

You don’t know how much tensing your body can take. You put the screen down, meeting a smiling Kurt who’s dressed in Bobby’s clothes. You know it’s his because of the sponsors you helped him get. 

You grab at the nearest thing on the table, brandishing a leftover metal fork at him. 

It merely amuses him as he puts your hand down with ease and takes the fork away. 

“Come on, did you really think I was going to hurt you? You, of all people? I have no reason to do that.”

“You’ve done worse for less,” you shudder, glancing behind you to find a way out. 

“You’re not in any danger with me. You’re safe, okay?” He takes small steps towards you, hands out in a gesture to relax you.

It doesn’t work, it only makes you more nervous. For every step he takes forward, you take one back.

“I bet you’re hungry.” He says, disappearing into your kitchen. 

You take this chance to run into your room, remembering there was a landline you never paid attention to there. Maybe you could get out of this still.

Much to your dismay, the line’s been cut by Kurt anyway. 

“I didn’t want us to be interrupted.” He says, bringing in his concoction of food. 

You don’t have the strength in you to fight and your stomach grumbles at the sight of the food. He holds it out in front of you, waiting. 

You stare at it, trying to figure out if anything’s wrong with it.

“I didn’t poison it or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

When you don’t believe him, he takes a bite out of the sandwich and scarfs it down immediately. Nothing happens.

You take it from him slowly and bite at it before completely devouring it whole. 

“Good. You’re going to need energy for later.” He leaves you alone to go back into the living room.

You don’t understand what he means until you hear something drag against your floors. He reappears in your bedroom dragging the body of the same man from the earlier Spree. 

You instantly feel sick to your stomach, the food you just ate reaching your throat as you gag at the smell. 

You shudder lowly, feeling your shoulders shake and your chest heave as you clasp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to calm yourself.

The dead body in front of you was very much freaking you the fuck out and you didn’t know whether to scream or to cry about your situation.

Kurt makes quick work of the man’s possessions, pocketing them to probably discard them later. 

“People are just so rude,” He says. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Kurt killing someone for demeaning you is something you didn’t see coming. Then again, you didn’t really see yourself being kidnapped on the list of things that would happen this week.

“This makes you worse than Bobby. No, worse than anyone.” 

You don’t know where the sudden fuel to comment on his actions came, you were still scared but somehow it came barreling out. 

He stops what he’s doing, looking at you in disappointment. 

He really couldn’t expect you to go along with this, could he?

“Bobby and I are different, you know that. This is different.” 

You didn’t know him. 

“So what? You don’t like how the world treated you so you just do whatever you like? Murder as you please?” 

He doesn’t argue back, he doesn’t need to. You’re right. 

“I’m not just doing this for myself.” He rubs at his temple. 

“Kurt,” you muster enough courage to look him dead straight in the eyes. “Do not do this and say that it’s for me. I won’t hesitate -”

“To leave? Go ahead, you’ve had all this time.” 

He renders you speechless. He was right, you could’ve easily overpowered him with anything in the room. But if he was so infatuated with you the right thing would’ve been to let you go without consequence.

“You said you trusted me.” He murmurs. 

“You ran a fucking light and now you’re a serial killer! It doesn’t apply to both!” 

“I’m - I’m not the bad guy here!” He huffs incredulously, as if everything he did wasn’t affecting him psychologically the way it was you. “If anything, I’m doing the world a favor! These are scum of the earth people!”

He calms down. “They get it.” 

He points presumably to the laptop mere feet away from you both. The sounds of the stream popped up one after the other.

“Really? Because as far as everybody’s concerned, they all think this is some kind of fucked up joke!” 

“Let them believe what they want to believe. They’re finally watching me!” 

It doesn’t matter to him that they’re insulting him in the comments, or that he killed someone he considered a friend. 

“So everyone has an expiration date for you.” You conclude. 

He was only going to use people up. That should’ve been common sense. You don’t understand why that fact made you feel a little dejected. You wish he could revert back to the Kurt you met. 

“Do I have an expiration date?” 

“No.” He assures. “But if this is going to work I need you to be okay with this.” 

“I’m not.” 

Fighting him was futile. You were forced into it. You wanted so desperately to warn these people and get the word out. But that's also what he would've wanted. He wanted you to give him exposure. The officer still thinks you did it all willingly, but the footage was more than enough to help you get off with a few repercussions. 

You wish you could forget the screams of the people in the car, a thousand washes with soap couldn’t get rid of the blood on your hands. Even if some of them really were assholes, shouldn’t they have also had a chance at redemption?

With each spree, Kurt only was egged on by the audience and those that found the livestream later. Many of them called for you to do something equally as horrifying but you couldn’t. Many suggested for him to get rid of you since you were being ‘boring’. He wouldn’t do it. 

And that’s when he set his sights on Jessie. After promptly kidnapping her and trying to convince her to join him to no avail, he takes both of you back to his house. You had enough. You wanted a way out and Jessie was it. You just didn’t know everything would end so bloody. 

There’s an ensuing fight, she strangles Kurt with the phone charger and knocks you back in an attempt to stop it. The back of your head collides with the passenger window harshly, forcing you to screech in pain.

Kurt doesn’t take it well.

She swindles Kurt, taking the gun he kept in the glove compartment and arming herself with it. This wasn’t how you wanted it to go. You just wanted her to scare him enough to turn himself in. 

But the crazed look in her eye suggested that wasn’t happening.

The final battle takes place at his home. Where all his dirty secrets are let out.

“I’ll shoot you both if you don’t move!”

You keep your hands up, shielding Kurt with your body. 

“Jessie please, let’s think about this.”

“And let him get away with all of this? He’s brainwashed you already.” 

“He hasn’t - listen he won’t get away with this. Jessie please, give me the gun.”

She wavers, the barrel pointed directly at you. Your heart is beating so fast you almost think you’ll die from a heart attack before the bullet even reaches you. 

“No! No, this has to end. He’s fucking crazy, can’t you see that??! This was always going to end with one of us dead anyway, and it’s not going to be me.” She points behind you and almost pulls the trigger but is stopped by you lunging at her. 

“No!” You yell.

You tackle her onto the floor, the back of her head bouncing off the leg of the pool table and knocking her unconscious.

You press your index finger against her neck, feeling her pulse. You sigh in relief. 

“Why didn’t you let her do it?” Kurt asks suddenly. 

“She was going to kill you. I don’t know how I’d feel about that.”

Kurt had no problem having these people on his conscience, but you did. Maybe killing him would be good, but him facing justice for what he did would be better. He could atone for all of this. 

“Even after what I did to you?”

You don’t answer and instead prop Jessie against the wall. You were honestly very sorry for it but you were optimistic about the outcome of all of this. 

Kurt bends to your level and takes you into his arms, squeezing you tight. 

“We did it!” He celebrates prematurely, Jesse’s not even dead but it doesn’t matter to him. He thinks you’re on his side, that’s more than enough. 

You smile nervously, his forehead touching yours in what he believes is a tender moment. 

“What are you going to do to her?” You’re afraid of the answer. 

Kurt’s mood shifts immediately, serious now. 

“I have to get rid of her now obviously. If she won’t join us then there’s no point to her.”

His quick response is enough for you to discard all hope that he would walk away from this. You grip the gun in your right hand, sure that he hasn’t seen it. 

“This is going to be great! We’re going to be even bigger than all these assholes. And you can finally be by my side, as it should be.” 

Your blood runs cold. He’s a dead man walking at this point. 

You say fuck it as you abandon all morals. With the free hand you have, you bring it to the nape of his neck and press your lips against his. He’s so distracted by it that he doesn’t feel the front of the gun pressed against his abdomen. 

It’s only when you feel your finger pull back the trigger that the shot startles you both and he opens his eyes to looks at you in shock. 

You unload another shot into him. He crawls away from you and applies pressure onto his wound, howling in pain.

He looks at you again, hurt and confusion clear on his face. He reaches for you, calling for you in between coughing fits and cries of pain.

You empty the last bullet into his shoulder, sending him backward. 

There’s a ringing in your ear that drowns out the sirens in the distance. You don’t know who managed to call them but you’re thankful to end this nightmare. You’re still holding the gun out but it only takes you a second to realize you’re screaming. Absolute guttural and gut-wrenching wailing. 

When they arrive, the paramedics have to sedate you to calm you down. Jessie is taken in the ambulance while an officer tries to get you out of the house while you’re still conscious. Kurt’s body lays limp in a pool of red, his hand still reaching and glazed eyes staring back at you.

It haunts you.

“People like Kurt needed a partner. We believe he was targeting Ms. Adams previously before his attention turned to you. Do you know why that is?”

You lie. “No.”

It’s easy to say you never knew his intentions. They were spur of the moment decisions. Everything was chance. You can't explain yourself or Kurt’s psyche to her, there’s no easy way to do it. 

She sighs. “Listen, whatever good you think you saw in him, whatever ramble about the real world you think you understood - was never there.” 

Her words should make you feel better, comfort you in the fact that you developing some sort of twisted attachment with your kidnapper wasn’t your fault. You don’t know how to feel, you just feel...empty.

“It doesn’t matter now.” You shrug. 

“You said Kurt told you something before he died. What was it?”

You let your heavy eyes close in exhaustion. You don’t remember why you told them that, but it must’ve slipped out in questioning. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember.” 

Unsure if she believes you or not but knowing there’s nothing else to keep you here, she dismisses you. You trudge out of the interrogation room and out of the station into the cold. You don’t bother with ordering a ride, it’s been ruined for you. 

Instead you walk it home, feeling yourself go into autopilot. You think you see his face in every driver that passes you.

You’re sure you look catatonic to people but you don’t care. You just want to rest.

As soon as you’re home you slip into the bathroom, turn on the shower until it’s steaming and let everything out. 

In the weeks that follow, you and Jessie are thrown into the stratosphere of fame. While she’s more content with her newfound trajectory and takes advantage of it, you decline every interview and prying noses that ask you to explain your relationship with Kurt. It’s all part of their circle jerk of tragedy, milking the victims for information and glamour. 

Kurt’s regarded as a loser by those who are saner than he was and a god by those on the internet. You’re not entirely surprised.

You think it’s all over when months pass without incident until one day your friends send you a link to something on Reddit, which you don’t think twice about. 

You regret it as soon as you see Kurt’s face in the thumbnail. Someone took all the footage from that night and was going to broadcast it later to show off their own documentary. 

You don’t use social media anymore.

#spree #kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle #well here it is

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Pink Chains

Part Seven.

Kyotani owns a grunge /punk apparel shop after leaving the Sendai Frogs after a incident with the Black Jackals. He designs his own clothes and hires Oikawa & Iwaizumi as his employees. Everything goes smoothly for awhile, till you walk in; pink dress, big smile , and bubbly personality. His whole life stops in that moment. 

Tags. @galagcica @haikyuu-but-low-iq @mocha-babes @derpeedoo @kayisweird @kozushiki @lunebabie

The ride back into the city was quiet; the only sounds were the crying kitten on your lap and Kyotanis music. No one was saying anything and Kyotani did not have his hand on your thigh, you were staring down at the kitten watching it wobble around on your lap trying to balance itself out. It was a brown cat with a white creamy head and back. Looked to be male, too.

You tucked the kitten closer to you watching it shine under the street lights then go dark then go light again. Kyotani was focusing on driving, his knuckles hurt and he could feel the irritation in his lip where Bokuto punched him. He was so goddamn angry at everything right now; he just wanted to give you a nice day after the shitty morning and day at school you had, he just wanted to see that smile on your face that he loved so much, that happy look that was just for him. He was going to end the night at his house with you in his arms watching whatever movie you wanted…

But everything changed so fast… too fast. He hated himself. What would have happened if he punched you? If he did not see you come between him and Bokuto? How bad would he have hurt you? ...it all hurt him right in his heart…

*

Kyotani pulled up to your apartment and helped you bring the things in from the zoo. You sat down on the ground by Mohas cat hut looking in with the kitten on your lap.

“Mocha.. I .. brought you a friend..” you said, breath shaky.

Kyotani could only watch, he wanted to console you so bad. Tell you its okay now, but he was not sure if he should even go over to you, or say your name.

Mocha emerged from her hut to see you and the kitten, you set the scared animal down and pet Mocha. “His name is Machi, short for Macchiato , hes your new friend okay?”

Mocha sniffed Machi and lightly grabbed at its neck dragging the kitten inside it. You sighed, relieved, Mocha could take it from here.

You got up to see Kyotani sitting at your table with his hands in his hair, elbows on his knees staring at the ground.

“Kyo..”

He didn't move.

Slowly you dropped to your knees again to fit between his legs so you could see him.

“Kyo i wanna go to your house….”

You blinked when his tears hit your face, his lip was fumbling and his nails were digging into his hair. You laid your head on his thigh talking very calmly.

“I enjoyed my day with you so much, ive never seen a lion before. They are so fluffy huh? I bet its fun to brush the males crazy hair. The wolves liked you too huh? Did you notice that?” you rubbed his leg soothingly feeling it twitch under you. “I bet they will remember you, especially the one who stared at you. I really liked the red pandas. I still cant believe you set that up. Just for me. Did you see them flop around? They are such silly creatures.”

Kyotanis left hand fell to weave itself into your hair to hold your head.

“I had a very nice day with you Kyo. What happened does not change that. Promise. You said yourself you wanna talk it out with Bokuto. When you do youll be friends. I know you can do it. Your my Kyo you can do anything.”

Kyotani choked out a heavy breath, it felt like he was holding everything in just to listen and focus on you. He pulled you up to press his forehead against yours. He had a very shaky and nervous voice.

“I-i-i-i… i kno-ow,, Sweetie.”

*

Kyo had indeed brought you to his house and you were very happy to be there, you were curious about this surprise he had mentioned and Kyo refused to say anything more on it.

It was a very nice big house. A fenced in yard with a even bigger garage.

You got out of the car watching the gate close behind you and Kyotani pulled you in for a hug from behind burying his nose in your neck holding you for a minute. Just taking it in, you were so special to him. You were the one for him, he knew it. And he was never letting go.

“Ready sweetie?”

“Yes yes !!!” you turned to give him a kiss and he sighed wiping the blood off your lips.

“Sweetie let me wash up first” he told you, taking your hand and going into home from the garage, the door sliding down on its own sealing the garage up.

“Be quick ab-”

A lot.. Of barking could be heard, a lot..

You hugged Kyotanis arm, squeezing it. “Puppies?!!!”

“Oi quiet down its 9 at night!!! King stop it!!!”

“Is that iwaizumi?” you asked him.

“Yep.” he took you up the stairs and opened the door to his living room.

A large all black german shepherd was barreling towards you barking its head off, it was deafening. Behind him was a yellow Shiba inu trying to bark equally as loud but he was not as big, next was a skinny tan pit bull barking low, his little tail wagging very fast.

“ BABIES!!!!” instantly you dropped down and the dogs tackled you with kisses and wagging tails. Your laughing was music to Kyotanis ears, god it helped so much.

Kyotani stepped over his dogs to go see Iwaizumi who was holding a white pomeranian. He pet it and instantly Iwaizumi could tell his friend had gotten in a fight. He did not say anything, just gave his rough looking friend a look. Kyotani shook his head looking back at you, you were standing now and petting all the dogs with a excited face.

“The big one is King, the shepherd. The Inu is Rex, the skinny one is Chicken Legs, hes a rescue,” he told you.

“And this is Mango! My lil baby” Iwaizimi said, holding the happy dog up .

“More babies!!” you gave each dog a nose kiss and hurried over to greet the happy snowball of a dog in Iwais arms. “So cute! All so cute!”

“Sweetie, my room is upstairs, go find something to change into okay? Ill be up in a minute”

“Kay! Iwaizumi Kyo has something hes gotta tell you!” you told him, all huffy.

“Oh yeah?” he teased putting the dog down .

All four dogs followed you up the stairs and Kyo shook his head knowing he would have to kick them out after he got up there.

As soon as they hear the door shut Iwai crossed his arms over his chest dipping his head at his friend taking in his cut lip and bloody knuckles. Kyotani sat down after grabbing a wet cloth and explained while he cleaned up.

“Seriously? “

“I dont even care that he showed up, i almost fuckin hit her.”

“Punched, is the correct word” his friend said sitting down with him. “What happened next?”

Kyotani shrugged, squeezing the towel for a second. “I broke down, i had accepted im a monster and that she was gonna run off leaving me. But instead she got on that dirty ground with me to yell at me and give me a talking to.” he wiped his knuckles, one by one. “She thought i started it but Bokuto spoke up, i told him to get in touch with Yahaba and then we left..”

“Christ..”

“Iwaizumi i dont know how shes still with me”

“I dont either. But shes special Kyotani, thats more than obvious now.”

“I want to move on from that day, that tourney. Everything, and start a life with her.”

“Well Yahaba will want this cleared up pretty soon so expect that in the morning, you know how he operates”

“Mhm,” Kyotani got up rubbing his face with the towel. “Ill see you tomorrow Iwaizumi, Oikawa is opening right?”

“Yep, lets hope he remembers how”

“God..”

*

Kyotani went up the stairs to see you in one of his old jerseys with no pants on with all the dogs sitting with you on the floor wagging their tails. You were petting each one and telling each one something special about them.

Kyotani put his hands on his hips whistling, alerting the dogs.

“Cmon now.” he motioned for the stairs.

The dogs pouted and you giggled getting up to sit on the bed criss cross. All the dogs went to Kyotani and he moved to the side. “Out, out out, “ he told them walking behind them. Each dog flopped down the steps except for Chicken Legs, he was whimpering and giving Kyotani a nervous look.

“Scared to go down still?” he crouched down picking up the dog. “ okay okay,” Kyotani brought the dog downstairs and gave it a gentle hug. “Go get some sleep, she will be here in the morning.” He made sure Chicken Legs made it into the dogs room before going back upstairs, closing his door with a sigh. Kyos room was full of posters, trophies, and jerseys. He had a desk with an expensive laptop sitting on it and a little picture bored next to it with pictures of him and lal of his volleyball friends. His bed was very big, a King size maybe. It was across from a big screen tv that sat next to the wall.

“Kyo…”

He looked up after ditching his pants and shirt to see you waiting for him to join you.

You looked so perfect in that jersey to him. He made his way over spotting you clothes on his floor along with a pink bra. He crawled in the bed pulling you on his lap facing him giving you a a really long deep kiss.

#kyotani x reader #kyotani 💕 #bokuto #iwaizumi

[tangledstarlight]

days go by and seasons change (lets try again next winter)

julie's ready for a year away from home, studying and trying to refind the magic in music. luke's about to start on a summer tour around europe opening for a band. they meet one night, sparks fly and emotions run hight. now they've just got to try and see if they can maintain a long distance friendship.

ok hello hi so this is my wild ride of a fic that i’m working on, a scene (much later on) came to me in a dream, and much like how smeyer wrote twilight, i just had to find out how they got there fhbdj there’s some drinking which would be classed as underage in the us but is legal in the uk which is where it’s set so 

trigger warnings!! alcohol and swearing

also on ao3 –– [ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | extras 1 & 2 ]

winter

There was a line almost outside the door for the coffee shop, people wanting something to warm them up or just to avoid the sudden downpour of rain. Julie had been in England for just over a month now and she still wasn’t used to the randomly changing weather, how were you supposed to plan an outfit for the day if it started mildly sunny and ended in a thunderstorm? It was January! She had come prepared for snow, not rain, damn it.

From her table in the back corner of the cafe, hands wrapped around a mug and headphones blaring music, Julie people watched. Sure, she was supposed to be working on an essay, but she’d been there for half an hour already. She deserved a little break.

Even through her music she can hear the sounds of the cafe around her. Customers placing orders and rain on the windows and cups hitting tables and people laughing and it’s comforting. The sounds of life going on around her while she pretends to be doing work.

Pretends, because she’s been trying to work on this essay for a week now and getting nowhere with it.

When she’d signed up for the study abroad scheme her mind had been on experiencing a new country, on the places she could visit, the new friends she could make, the thoughtful looks she could escape.

She hadn’t thought much about the work she would have to do, the essays that would need to be written, the awkwardness of settling into a new place, the strangeness of hearing new accents.

The actual creative side of her course she found easy enough, but when it came to writing about her stylistic choices and her themes and her influences and how they all tied back with what they’d been reading about? She was drawing a blank.

Blowing on her drink, Julie let her eyes wander around the coffee shop. It was a fairly small place with an extensive collection of teas and fresh baked cakes and free wifi. She’d found it by mistake while looking for a music shop her first week in the city, they’d lured her in with carrot cake and coffee and she’d been coming back at least once a week ever since. A group of boys push through the door, shaking off hoods and laughing at something as they join the queue.

Something about them seemed vaguely familiar, like she’d seen them from a distance in a dark club, or scrolled past a group photo of them on her instagram suggested posts. Or maybe it was because they just looked like every other group of young adults she’d come across, both back home and in Liverpool. One thing she had learnt pretty quickly was that boys were the same everywhere.

She was saved from mulling it over by her phone vibrating on the table with a text, Carrie’s name popping up on the screen and Julie swapped her cup for her phone, a small smile already tugging at her lips as she read the series of texts on her screen.

Julie’s attention is dragged away from her phone by something – someone – knocking into her table, sending her pen rolling off and her cup to shake. Pulling her headphones out of her ears she looks up as the culprits eyes widen, mouth pulling into a grimace as he stares at the coffee now running down the back of her jacket that had been happily sitting in the spare chair.

“Shit,” he mutters, already pulling a napkin out of his back pocket and dabbing at the mess. “I’m so sorry, I uh– wasn’t looking and the chair leg and fuck I’m so sorry about your jacket, can it be dry cleaned?”

And he looks so sincere in his apology, all wide sad eyes and words stumbling out too quickly and messy brown hair curling out from under a beanie and accent that sounds like home, that Julie swallows back the annoyed retort she had ready to go.

It was just an accident. Accidents happened. At least it wasn’t over her laptop. Blowing out a breath, Julie shakes her head at him once, pushing back her chair to inspect the damage.

“It’s fine, honestly. Don’t–” she pauses, holding up the denim on either side of the collar and frowning at the pretty large brown stain. “Worry about it.”

Can she wash it? She’s never tried, but well. She bites her lip as she looks at it, the stranger awkwardly standing just a short distance away with a wad of used napkins and his half spilt drink, and yeah, she definitely won't be able to wear it tonight.

“I’m so sorry.” He says again and someone must catch his attention over her shoulder because his eyes dart away from her, eyebrows shooting up and shrugging his shoulders and, it’s kinda cute. The way he seems to be hovering, unsure if she’s going to shout at him.

“Seriously, it’s fine. Accidents happen, right?” She shoots him a quick smile – though not missing the way his cheeks turn slightly pink – before turning back to her jacket, carefully laying it out on the chair to hopefully dry out enough for her to stuff it in her bag before she needs to leave. She really hopes it stops raining.

“I uh– shit I’m sorry. Again. I gotta–” He gestures to the door where Julie can see his friends waiting for him, barely contained grins on all their faces that has Julie rolling her eyes. Boys. She looks back at him, raising an eyebrow even as her lips tick up into a small smile, she’s rewarded by his cheeks going red, the hand still holding the napkins rubbing at the back of his neck and a stuttered ‘goodbye’.

Sitting back down, Julie rolls her eyes again, muttering under her breath about ‘annoying cute boys’ and ‘favourite jackets’. Leaning down to pick up her fallen pen with one hand while the other tapped out a reply to Carrie. An hour more of sitting here, attempting to do her essay and then she’d have to go if she wanted enough time to get ready.

\\

“So where are you?”

Julie couldn’t hear what was being said on the other side of the phone, but judging by the way Carrie was rolling her eyes the answer wasn’t correct. Flynn leans her head on Julie’s shoulder, their linked arms drawing them closer as they walk, it’s not the most comfortable way to walk, but they’ve already had a few drinks and Flynn gets a little clingy after one. Julie puts her head on top of Flynns as they stumble along cracked stone streets.

“She actually might end up killing Bobby at this rate,” Julie mutters and is rewarded with Flynn letting out a laugh that has Carrie looking over her shoulder at them, eyes softening for a moment before she’s rolling them again. If she hadn’t known the other girl as long as she had, Julie would be worried about permanent eye damage.

“Fucking hell. Okay. Yeah, okay we’ll be like, ten minutes then. Yeah, yeah, okay bye.”

Sliding her phone into her back pocket Carrie took a half step back so she was walking with them again, linking her arm on Flynns other side.

“They’re at the Cavern Club,” Carrie looks at Julie over the top of Flynn’s head and lets out a loud sigh, “I know. That’s where we were going to go anyway. They’re so annoying.”

But she says it in a fond sort of way. Like how you talk about your neighbour's dog that barks too early in the morning and wakes you up, but always runs over to say hello to you through the fence when you walk past and brightens up your day. Annoying, but sweet.

Julie’s only met Carrie’s cousin Bobby once, it had been a short ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ type interaction as he ran into Carrie’s house to pick up his bag and then run straight back out again.

She’s never met the other three members of the band at all, but she knows, after doing a little bit of internet searching, that their band isn’t half bad. They’ve got some pretty good songs and a small following that she is sure is bound to get bigger by the time they’ve finished being the opener for whoever they’re touring with and their first album is out in the world.

The three of them flash their id’s to the security on the door, slightly giddy smiles on all their faces even now, still not used to it all being legal for them to drink under the age of twenty-one. But the security guy doesn’t even blink and then they’re walking down a flight of stairs, the air getting warmer and the sound of drums and guitars reaching them.

Carrie grabs hold of Flynn's hand and Flynn grabs a hold of Julies and then they’re weaving through people and avoiding knocking drinks out of hands.

Her attention is pulled from the crowd to the stage at the back of the room, a band playing a cover of something she can’t name, they don’t sound too bad, and the part of her that used to fall in love with music every time she heard it wants to stop and listen. But that part of her is small and quiet and shy now, so she keeps her grip on Flynn’s hand and follows along.

Julie doesn’t know how Carrie knows where she’s going but all of a sudden they’re coming to a stop, her free hand reaching out to balance herself on Flynn’s shoulder even as a small part of her is still trying to work out what the song is.

Turning her eyes away from the stage she looks at the five boys sitting at the table, a collection of bottles scattered across the wood, and Julie smiles at Bobby who’s standing up to hug Carrie, opens her mouth to say hello before stopping. Her brows furrow as she locks eyes with a shaggy haired brunette who’s own eyes are widening in realisation.

“You!” She blurts out before she can stop herself, and if anyone asks she would blame it on the three drinks she had before leaving the dorms, detangling her fingers from Flynn’s to point at him. With the music blaring so loud only the boys still sat at the table and Flynn heard her, the latter turning to raise her brows while Julie can see the boys trying not to laugh.

“He’s the guy who spilt coffee on my jacket earlier,” she shouts over the music, hand gesturing wildly at the table and Flynn follows her hand, eyes resting on the culprit.

“That was her favourite jacket!” Flynn props one hand on her hip and almost glares at him, but it loses part of its ‘scare factor’ when she starts swaying a little in place to the music. Well, Julie thinks it should lose some of it’s scaring power, but the guy still looks kinda worried, so who’s Julie to know?

“I said I was sorry!” He puts his hands up, shoulder raising to almost his ears, and with his eyes already open so wide and his hair curling slightly at the ends, Julie has to wonder how much trouble that look has gotten him out of over the years.

“You guys have already met?” Bobby jumps into the conversation before Julie has a chance to reply and Carrie is looking between them, lips pursed.

“This is the girl whose jacket Luke ruined earlier,” the blonde one says and Julie vaguely recognises him as being one of the boys from the cafe.

“Dude,” Bobby raises his eyebrows at the jacket ruiner – Luke, Julie reminds herself – shaking his head in disappointment.

“It was an accident!” Luke turns his sad kicked puppy look on Bobby before looking back at Julie, his hands lowering but his eyes still drastically wide, “I really am sorry about it.”

Julie tries, she really does, to hold on to that small kindle of annoyance that she’d felt upon seeing him again. But well, the jacket is already ruined and she’s come out to avoid doing an essay and she’s finding it really hard to be mad at someone so cute. Blowing out a breath she shakes her head at him.

“It’s fine, I’ll forgive and forget the whole thing if you buy me a drink.”

“That I can do,” the furrow in his brows smooths out and his shoulders relax and suddenly there’s a smile spreading across his face that seems to light up his eyes.

“So, you’ve met Luke. That’s Reggie, he’s our bassist,” Bobby nods at the dark haired guy sitting next to Luke who grins and waves, and it’s such an infectiously happy wave that Julie can't help but wave back. “Alex, kickass drummer,” the blonde who spoke earlier ducks his head a little, an almost shy smile on his face as he nods at them, “And Willie. Officially he’s one of our roadies, unofficially he’s just here to hype us up and do cool tricks in empty arenas.” Willie, who’s sat pressed against Alex’s side, raises his hand in a wave.

“This is Julie and this is Flynn,” Carrie points at them each before claiming the seat next to Alex and looking at Luke, “We’ll take 3 vodka lemonades. Please.” She only adds the please on the end after Flynn sits next to her, nudging her elbow into her side, Julie notices with a smile.

There’s a moment of bodies moving as Luke gets up from his side of the table, pulling Bobby along with him towards the bar and Reggie is waving his hand at her, nodding at the empty space along the bench next to him that she slides into gratefully.

They can’t really see the stage set up from here, but the music is still just as loud and Julie starts nodding her head along to the beat, trying to focus on the conversation happening on the other side of the table. Something about Carrie’s group and choreography and convincing someone to add in a dance break to a song. She’s laughing at something Willie said when a glass is slid across the table in front of her, a bottle of something passing over her to Reggie and she looks up in time to see Luke sliding into the space next to her, a small smile on his face.

“Forgiven and forgotten?” He asks, eyebrow quirked as he lifts his own drink, tilting it towards her in invitation.

“Forgiven and forgotten,” she agrees picking her glass up and tapping it against his beer bottle, shooting him a smile of her own before chasing the straw of her drink to take a sip, trying hard not to blush at the intensity of his stare.

//

It’s two hours later, three drinks and a deeply regrettable shot later, happily on the precipice of truly drunk but hanging out in tipsy land, when Julie shakes her head at Luke who’s standing on the bench. Tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he writes on the curved brick of the ceiling.

“Dude no ones gonna be able to even read that!” Reggie complains from next to her, his eyes squinting as if it will help him to read their names better. It doesn’t, Julie’s already tried.

“Why did we let the one with the worst handwriting do this?” Alex tilts his head to look up at Luke, who waves the hand not holding the pen in his face, almost hitting him but missing by several inches to the left and it sets them all off giggling.

“Because the rest of you are cowards!” He wobbles a little as he shuffles his feet to change angle, and Julie reaches out on instinct to hold his leg, fingers wrapping around his calf as if it will stop him from falling. His head drops down to look at her, teeth biting his bottom lip as he smiles at her quickly before going back to the ceiling.

To leave his – their – mark on a legendary musical site. Luke's words, the rest of them hadn’t been able to talk him out of it so they’d gone right into encouraging.

“I think you’re getting cowards and idiots mixed up,” Carrie mutters, head propped up on her hands, elbows resting on the table. Well, Reggie and Julie and Willie had gone straight to encouraging, the others were still on teasing.

“Do you want your name added or not?” Luke grumbles but Julie can see his pen moving, going over the letters of what she assumes is meant to be Dirty Candi, and bites her cheek to not laugh.

“Don’t forget it’s an ‘i’ instead of ‘y’ for candy!” Flynn leans forward, eyes on the ceiling as she shouts up at him and Luke says something, but it’s too quiet for any of them to hear.

It isn’t until he moves to get off the bench that Julie realises she still has her hand wrapped around his calf, her fingers idly tapping along to the song some guy with a guitar is playing behind them. Heat fills her cheeks (that she’ll blame on how warm it is in the club and the alcohol in her system thank you very much) as she lets go, pulling her hand back into her lap, watching from the corner of her eye as he jumps down and back into his seat, a proud smile on his face.

“Now when we’re big and famous people can come and hunt our names down.”

“And finally realise that you have awful writing and question how any of our songs get written,” Bobby grins at him, elbow nudging his side which sends Luke leaning into her to try and avoid it, sliding along the bench until there’s no space between them, and she can’t find it in herself to be too mad about it. He smells like tequila and mint and aftershave all mixed together, not really a good combination, but one she finds herself liking anyway.

“Well why don’t you start writing the songs, huh?” Luke retorts, and starts a back and forth with Bobby, Alex chiming in and Flynn watching it all like a tennis match, and Juile tries to follow it, but all she can think about is how Luke hasn’t moved back. How his thigh is pressed against her leg and his arm is resting around her back, hand near her hip and how if she wanted to, she could rest her chin on his shoulder and kiss his neck.

Not that she wants to kiss his neck. Does she?

Julie furrows her brows, biting her lip as she examines those thoughts, tries to decide if it’s the alcohol or the music or her lack of sleep or if she just wants to kiss him.

Flynn says something and it makes him laugh, loud and bright and unrestrained, head thrown back and eyes closed. And yeah, she just wants to kiss him. Fuck.

//

Reggie slings an arm around her shoulders, the other going over Flynns and tugging them together until their cheeks are all pushing together and Julie giggles, poking at his side with her partially trapped arm.

“What do we think chocolate tequila is like?” He asks, eyes glued to the chalkboard menu above them.

“Not as nice as the summer fruits one,” Julie says back, wrinkling her nose a little at the memory of when she’d tried it. If you liked chocolate, it was a bitter disappointment in her opinion. But she was also drunk enough now not to mind.

“Alex says we can’t get the coffee one. Thinks we’ll have a repeat of the red bull incident.” Luke appears on her other side, pushing his body into the small gap between her side and the next group of people. He’s stood so he’s facing her – them – and rests one arm on the counter top.

“Man he’s gotta get over that, it was one time,” Reggie mutters and Julie wants to ask what the ‘red bull incident’ is, but then Flynn is sliding three shot glasses towards them, salt and limes following, apparently having ordered without any of them noticing.

“We’re standing with mango!” Flynn shouts, shot already in one hand and salt on the other, clearly waiting for the three of them to catch up. Reggie lowers his arms and Julie can feel Luke’s hand brush past her arm as he moves to lick the back of his hand, she can feel herself flushing as she watches him do it. And is happy to note that he flushes just the same as he watches her lick her hand in turn.

Idly, Julie notices that Reggie counts them down, that Luke inclines his head at her before he lifts his shot to his lips, that Julie lifts her own, the liquid sliding down her throat with a slight burn that’s not eased at all by the lime she bites into. She squeezes her eyes shut against it and when she opens them sees Luke grinning at her, eyes full of something she can’t name but makes her want to blush again.

“Y’know what? Screw Alex, four of the coffee my good man!” Reggie shouts next to her, waving a hand at the bartender in front of them who just rolls their eyes but puts out four more shot glasses.

“Okay, you gotta tell us about the red bull incident,” Flynn finally asks what had been nibbling at the back of her mind from the moment Luke had spoken so she pulls her attention away from him and back to her friends as Reggie launches into his story that even grabs the attention of the bartender for a moment.

But Luke is a warm presence at her side, leaning into her space and breath ghosting against her neck as he chimes in the story. If she stepped back, just a little, she could lean her back against his chest. She wonders if he’d wrap an arm around her waist to hold her steady? Julie blinks and blows out a breath, raising an eyebrow as Reggie talks.

“Wait, how’d you get onto the roof?”

//

“So why Liverpool?” Luke asks, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat as they aimlessly walk through almost empty streets, faint music coming from clubs and other drunk people giggling in doorways. The fresh air has helped a little to sober her up, but not enough for her to know where they’re going. But they’re following Carrie, who has a plan for the night and they’ve no option but to follow it.

Julie wraps one arm around herself, the other pushing hair over one shoulder as she thinks about it. There isn’t really a big fancy answer, no special reason for her choice, she shrugs at Luke, lips ticking up into a smile.

“It was the only place still with spots open,” she can see the slight confusion on his face and explains more, “I wasn’t going to take the study abroad year, but I changed majors and I needed to get away from home for a while. Carrie and Flynn had already signed up and the internet said the train didn’t take too long to get to Manchester or Glasgow.”

“You changed majors?”

Of all the things she’s said that hadn’t been the part she’d thought Luke would zone in on. It wasn’t really something she liked to talk about much, her fall away from music. She still loved it, still listened and wrote and sang, but the passion she’d once had, the magic she’d once felt whenever she sat at a piano? It had gone away. Had been gone for a long time. Had been gone for four years and she’d only been pretending she still felt the magic.

Everything she played or wrote was missing something and no one had seemed to notice but here.

It hadn’t been until one of her teachers in first year had pointed something out that Julie had finally confessed. And changed course and major the next week.

Everyone had tried to understand, had listened as she explained why she couldn’t do it. How her mom and music were so intertwined together in her head and her heart that it felt impossible to detangle them, to love and play music without always feeling like there was something missing. But she knew they didn’t really get it

So she’d signed up for the study abroad, and picked Liverpool because they had a good English Lit course and was close enough to her friends if she needed them. Okay, so maybe she’d lied a little, there was a fancy answer for why she’d moved, but picking Liverpool had just been random.

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’ and glances ahead of them, where Willie has Alex clinging on to his back, running through a puddle and laughing loud and clear. She can’t help but smile at them, at the carefree way Willie spins around and Alex holds tighter, face red with whatever he’s trying to say between laughs. Luke must follow her gaze because he lets out a soft snort of laughter, and she can see him shake his head from the corner of her eye.

“I’d hate them if they weren’t so adorable together,” he muttered, but his gaze is soft as they both watch the couple; Willie lets Alex off his back and grabs hold of his hand before he had a chance to get too far away. They’re all soft eyes and teasing smiles and vibes that scream about being in love, you’d have to be blind not to see it. Julie looks away, feeling like she’s intruding on a private moment as they share a kiss.

“Tell me about the tour,” Julie says, drawing Lukes attention back to her and it’s the right thing to say because his face lights up with a smile that she’s sure is going to drive girls wild one day soon.

//

Julie nods along with the song blaring through the speakers, mouthing the words so herself as she scrolls through her phone, ignoring the press of bodies crowding the smoking area as best she can. From her spot near the wall, opposite the door, she can see Carrie and Willie and Alex dancing together, wide smiles and heads thrown back.

Flynn and Reggie are talking to a group of people off to the side and Julie can see the way Flynn has pulled her braids over one shoulder and is gesturing to Reggie every few words the way she does when she’s trying to hype someone up (she knows, from having been on the receiving end of it, many times). Bobby, standing with them, seems to find the whole thing hilarious, grinning around the cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Okay, favourite book?” Luke asks, leaning in close to be heard over the noise and if he doesn’t move back, well Julie’s not about to complain. The little space heaters on the wall don’t provide much warmth, and it’s January and she’s cold and someone ruined her jacket.

“Currently or of all time?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she turns her head a little to look at him. Her heart stutters for a second at how close his face is to hers, she can see the small flecks of green in his eyes, can feel his breath ghost across her cheeks.

“Current,” he says and she can see as his eyes flicker down to her lips quickly before back up to her eyes and Julie really hopes she’s not blushing right now.

“Stardust. By Neil Gaiman. I’m reading it for one of my classes and it hits all the boxes for a fairytale.” She likes fairy tales, likes the idea of them, likes the message of true love and pure of heart and happily ever afters. This one just happened to involve lightning pirates which was a bonus. Okay, so maybe the lightning pirates were mostly a film detail, but still. “Favourite food?”

“There’s this little hole in the wall place down by the strip? They do the best cheeseburgers. If I could have one for every meal, I would.”

They’re still standing close together, eyes staring too intensely for a game of twenty questions and comments about cheeseburgers and Julie’s eyes flicker to his lips, can see the way they’re pulling up a little on one side. She wants to lean forwards, close the gap between them and press her lips against his. But then she shivers, shoulders hunching up around her ears as she rubs her bare arms, conscious of how close they’re sitting and how much she just kind of wants to steal his body heat.

“Are you cold?” He’s biting his lip, pulling back out of her personal space and Julie almost whines at the loss of contact and body heat and – well maybe she’s too drunk to be making smart choices right now if she’s five seconds away from whining.

“Well someone ruined my jacket,” she points out, eyebrows raised at him and is rewarded with his cheeks flushing and one hand rubbing at the back of his neck which she’s quickly coming to realise means he’s embarrassed or just a little flustered.

“I thought we’d agreed to forgive and forget about that?” He mumbles and before she can come up with a response Luke is standing up, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders and then he’s carefully draping it over her shoulders, fingers tapping lightly on her arm until she holds it out for him to slip through one arm hole, doing the same on the other side and then pulling her hair out from under the collar.

It’s too big on her, but the faux fur inside is soft on her skin and still warm from Luke and she can stick her thumbs through the little gaps created by the fastened buttons and if she turned her head a little she could smell his aftershave clinging to the collar. Julie can’t help the little smile that graces her face, rotating her shoulders to let the coat settle better on her body.

Looking up at him her brows furrow a little at the look on his face (if she wasn’t so drunk and giddy and tired she’d say it was something like awe but that made no sense. Why would Luke be looking at her in awe while she wore his jacket?), but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared and he’s smiling at her, that wide smile from back at the start of the night when he’d handed her her drink and she’d tapped it against his.

“Thanks,” she tilts her head to the side, loose curls falling across her cheeks as she looks at him, a wide smile of her own and she opens her mouth to say something else – though she’s not sure what she’s going to say – when another voice cuts through and pops the little bubble they’ve created.

When did they even create their private conversation bubble? Julie doesn’t know, and from the way Luke’s head whips around to land on Flynn and Reggie and Bobby with wide eyes, he probably doesn’t know either. But it’s nice to know that he’d been enjoying their conversation as much as she had.

“We’re gonna get food, come on!”

//

“I wanted to be wrapped up in bed an hour ago,” Julie sighed but there’s no real annoyance in her tone as she hugs Luke’s jacket closed tight across her chest, shoulder brushing against his arm as they walk.

“But you also wanted pizza instead of McDonalds like everyone else.” And Luke has a point but she still pulls a face, sticking her tongue out at him and getting a laugh in return. She couldn’t even be annoyed at it, he had a nice laugh.

Plus, when she’d said she wanted pizza Luke was the only one who’d wanted to come with her, the rest of their friends going back to their hotels. He’d walked all the way to the takeaway with her, shared half of his chips and then started walking her back to her dorm, insisting on carrying her half eaten pizza too. It was all very sweet and kind and not helping her not want to kiss him.

“Where’s your first stop?” She asks, because he was about to start a tour and she had school and maybe if they were both back home they might have been able to give something a go, but they weren’t and Julie wasn’t really a one night stand kind of person.

“We’re heading up to Newcastle on Sunday to kick it all off,” there was a slight bounce in his step, his excitement almost palpable and Julie could tell that this was all he’d ever wanted. To play music to as many people as he could. A small part of her remembered what that was like, to want to share your songs with the world.

“Sing something!” She pulled him to a stop in the middle of the street, bouncing a little on the balls on her feet and grinning at him. Because she was still a little drunk and she missed feeling excited about playing music and here was this sweet charming guy who loved it so much and felt it with everything he had and Julie wanted to be like that again too. She wanted to think about music without it being tinged with sadness.

“What?” He laughed, eyes a little wide and glassy and with his hair looking more wild then it had when they’d started the night, but Julie was pretty sure she looked the same so she didn’t comment.

“Sing! Anything! Please?” Julie tried pouting at him, doing her best impression of Carlos and his puppy dog eyes and something about it must have worked because Luke huffs out a laugh as he looks at her, biting his lip in thought for a moment before he nods his head for them to keep walking before he starts singing.

His voice is a little rough, from screaming lyrics in the clubs and shouting to be heard in the bars, and his words are a little slurred because he’s a little drunk and a lot tired, but Julie’s sober enough to decide it’s one of the best versions of Mamma Mia she’s ever heard. As he gets to the first chorus she joins in.

They were just two slightly drunk young adults, singing in the street and if nothing else comes of his night she’ll always have this memory of unadulterated joy.

“You can sing,” he whispers and now it’s Luke’s turn to pull her to a stop with a hand on her arm and a look of wonder on his face. Julie shrugs a little and can feel her cheeks heating, but she keeps their eye contact and smiles at him.

“Only drunk in the streets.” Which is more true then he’ll ever know.

Luke opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off by pointing over his shoulder at the building behind them.

“This is me.” She’s not sure what to do now, take her pizza and run? That seems a little rude, and unsafe. Julie’s not sure she can actually run in these shoes without falling. Luke looks over his shoulder quickly before looking back at her, blowing out a breath and nodding.

“Right, right.” He seems just as unsure as she is about what to do now, which makes Julie feel a little better about it.

“I should–”

“Can I–”

They both start at the same time and then Julie is laughing and Luke is huffing out a breath while a smile grows on his face. The only thing between them is a pizza box and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes keep flickering down to her lips.

“I can’t kiss you!” She blurts out, a hand quickly going up to cover her mouth and Luke’s eyes widen, taking a half step back, retracting his hand like he’d been burnt.

“That wasn’t– I– this–” Luke started stuttering, face going red and Julie quickly shook her head at him.

“That came out wrong! Fuck. I–” She curled her hands into fists at her sides, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them, “I want to kiss you, but I can’t.”

The shock on his face had softened at the start of her sentence only to morph into confusion at the end.

“You’re gonna have to explain this to me, Molina.” Luke still looks confused, but he’s still standing in front of her and that’s enough for her.

“I like you,” she dips her head as she says it, because Julie’s pretty sure she could really like him if given the chance, “but I’m no good at one night...things and you’re about to go on a tour and I’m stuck here and I just, I think– I think I’d like us to be friends. I think we could be really good friends actually.”

Because they’d only spent a few hours together and she’d laughed and smiled more in that time then she had in awhile. Luke was sweet and funny and had something to say about every song the DJ picked to play but sang along anyway. Which is why she doesn’t want to risk a friendship for one night in bed. The confusion on Luke’s face turns into understanding and the soft, slightly sad smile that he gives her tells Julie that she’s right. A friendship with him would be better than one really fun night.

“I get it,” and he carefully puts his hand back on her arm, squeezing slightly before pulling away. “And, for the record, I’m not very good at one night things either.”

Her heart beat sounds loud in her ears and it takes Julie a moment to refocus her thoughts. Friendship. No kissing. Friendship.

“Well, maybe if we can keep a friendship going until we next see each other we can try this moment again,” she waves her hand around them with a small laugh. They could probably keep a friendship going long distance, but Julie isn’t so sure that they’ll ever get a moment like this again.

“Deal,” Luke grins down at her and pulls his phone out of his back pocket and unlocks it, Julie raises her eyebrows at him when he holds it out for her, “In order to keep in touch we’re gonna need to exchange numbers.”

“You make a point,” she agrees, putting in her information and handing it back to him in exchange for her pizza box. “Text me when you get back to your hotel, okay? So I know you didn’t get lost.”

“Yes, boss.” His smile is a little teasing now and Julie shakes her head at him as she brushes past him to walk into her dorm. She’s half way across the road when stops in her tracks to turn back at him.

“Wait, I’m still wearing your jacket.” Julie stars to shrug the item off when Luke shakes his head, already starting to walking backwards down the street.

“No, keep it!” He shouts with a smile, “Means we’ll have a reason to see each other again and have another go at this.”

Julie just shakes her head at him with a laugh, watching as he walks away before tightening her grip on the box and finally making it into her dorm. She’s still got an essay to write and a pile of laundry to put away and magic in music is still missing, but she’s gotten herself a new jacket and a friend who she thinks could make her life a little brighter. So she’ll forgive and forget that she's home an hour later than promised.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #carrie wilson #willie #flynn #rosie vs writing #i just. really like making fake texts and igs and tweets lmoa #*fics

[chipper9906]

Third Times The Charm

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 15 (Episode 03: The Rupture, Episode 09: The Trap

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 6,508

Status: One Shot - Complete

Chapter Preview: 

“Well… not… not that part,” Dean stutters out, taken aback by the fiery, spitting rage that Cas so rarely displays towards him. “If you’d just let me-,”

“No,” Castiel interrupts him, slowly rising back up with his duffel in hand. “You think you’re trying, Dean. You really do. But when it comes down to it, you’re not entirely ready to apologize to me. Not yet.” Dean couldn’t even get a word out as Cas reached into his trench-coat pocket before firmly planting something into his hand – something familiarly rectangular and thin in shape. “And even if you are… I’m certainly not ready to forgive.”

* * *

Three times Dean Winchesters attempts to "apologize" to Castiel. Except... This is Dean Winchester. Apologies aren't exactly his strong point.

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He knew he’d messed it all up the second the words left his mouth. And yet, in that moment of overboiling, long over-due anger spilling out, he simply didn’t have enough reasoning left to realize it.

So, he said it.

“Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?”

Cas had looked at him like he had physically hit him. He might as well have. But through the seething rage he felt, he just didn’t care that he had hurt Cas. A part of him felt good about it. Vindicated. Because if he was hurting, then Cas should, too.

And maybe that’s why… that’s why he can’t take it back. It’s why he can’t just apologize, tell Cas that he didn’t mean it, that it was a moment where he wasn’t thinking right. And that right there was the problem. He had meant it. He had been thinking back to all those times, all those fuck ups that have happened in their lives, and there was no doubt that Cas was involved in a lot of them. Maybe it had been something clung to the back of his mind, building, and building until he was pushed over the edge.

But it didn’t matter. He had said it, and he couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t remove the pain he had inflicted on Cas.

And he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

But that was beside the point. They didn’t have time for this. They didn’t have time for petty silent treatments, and the boatload of therapy they probably needed. Mom was dead, Jack was dead, Rowena was dead, they had just barely averted yet another goddamn Apocalypse whilst simultaneously being thrown into another; this one with God himself out on a personal vendetta against them, and the entire friggen Universe, and goddammit, they didn’t have the time for Cas to go off sulking on his own!

So now that’s why he was sat here on the edge of the map table, phone in hand, staring glumly down at Cas’s name as it glowed back at him from the screen, thumb hovering just over his name. He didn’t have much faith that the call would even go through, considering the past twenty or so times he’s tried so far were sent straight to Cas’s voicemail. And not in a way that suggested his phone was off, or even that he was letting it ring out and not answering it. Dean knew that the few brief rings he heard before being cut off by Cas’s voicemail could only mean that the bastard saw Dean was calling and was rejecting the damn call.

Which is why, as he waited to be greeted by the same annoying voicemail message he’s listened to way too many times now, he’s caught by surprise when he’s instead greeted by the click of the call connecting, and the loud silence of Cas on the other end, not speaking.

“Cas? You there?”

Nothing but silence greets him. For a moment, the annoying part of him that still cares starts envisioning the worst scenarios. What if it wasn’t Cas? What if someone or something had killed him, and the killer wanted to know who the hell was stubborn enough to call someone twelve times in the span of around four minutes.

But no, it’s Cas that answers on the other end of the line with a very curt and unfriendly sounding, “What?”

Dean just about holds his tongue – pretty much has to bite down on it to stop himself from saying something he shouldn’t – and takes a deep, not at all calming breath. “Any reason you’ve been ignoring both mine and Sammy’s calls?”

“I think the answer to that question is fairly obvious,” Cas’s answer is scathing, dripping with levels of sarcasm that Dean didn’t think angels could even reach.

“Alright, fine. But couldn’t you at least answer Sammy’s calls? Or even just his messages?”

“No.”

Another deep breath, Winchester.

“And why’s that?” Dean gets out through gritted teeth, hearing his phone crack and groan in protest under his vice-like grip.

“Because I don’t want to.”

Turns out, that’s all he needed to be pushed over the edge again.

“Yeah? Well, Cas, funnily enough, you don’t always get what you want. Woulda’ thought you of all people would have learned that by now, with as much time you spend with us. And you know what? Now isn’t one of those times where you get what you want. Hell, what neither of us want. But we both know that the crap going down right now is bigger than what you, or me, or Sammy, or anyone wants. So how about we both put aside our hissy fits for the time being, get over our own damn egos, and you get your feathery ass back here and help us figure out how the hell we’re supposed to kill God?”

His voice has raised perhaps a little bit too much near the end there, so much that he felt like it was ringing in his ears for a while after he had stopped talking; perhaps even enough to drown out whatever it was that Cas decided to respond with. Except, Cas didn’t respond. Not for a while, anyway. Nothing but silence – in the form of crackling white noise – emitted from Dean’s speaker, stretching on long enough that he had to take his phone away from his ear and check the screen to see if the phone was still connected.

And then Cas laughed.

He’s pretty sure he can count on one hand the number of times he’s heard Cas laugh, and this one… was not a good one. There was some amusement in it, but mostly it just sounded tired. And… a little bit bordering on insane.

“Something funny?” Dean damn near growled down the phone.

Cas’s laughter faded away at that. “No. No, I suppose there isn’t.”

A single beep emitted from the speaker. Gone was the white noise. Gone was Cas’s voice.

Cas had hung up on him.

Dean takes another deep breath, one just as unsuccessful as the last few. He holds the phone limply in his closed fist, staring blankly out into the bunker before bringing his fist down hard on the table, barely resisting the urge to launch his “too expensive to keep breaking through rage or hunts” across the room.

“You stubborn son of a bitch,” Dean grits out, balancing his phone in his lap as he massages his now sore hand. “Just gotta make this complicated, don’t you…”

The idea pops into his head right then and there, jumping down from the table and settling into an actual seat. He pulls his laptop towards him, flipping open the top and getting to work. “Fine, Cas. You don’t wanna come back home? Then I’ll come to you…”

* * *

 There were a lot of things Dean thought Cas might be doing in some small town out in the middle of nowhere.

Well, not a lot of things. Actually… Dean had no idea. The last time Cas went off on his own – admittedly, not of his fault – he had gone and tried to be a proper citizen of America with his own degrading, low-paying, soul-sucking retail job. He supposed that was a possibility, but, he doubted it. Most of the time, Cas is… well, with him, Dean supposed. Helping him and Sam with whatever big ugly had decided to rear its head for the year. Cas didn’t really get much free time, didn’t have much time for hobbies (neither did he unless you counted drinking and porn watching, but whatever), so of all the things he expected for Cas to be doing…

Fishing certainly wasn’t one of them.

Cas had managed to find himself a nice little dock to fish off as well. A cozy, hidden spot within the reeds, far out enough from civilization that Dean actually had to hike out here to find him. Admittedly, he was a little pissed to have to leave Baby behind and hike for four friggen hours in the heat whilst swiping away blood-sucking mosquitos, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice.

There was a single fishing rod cast out into the water, its little neon orange bobber oddly still despite drifting amidst the gentle waves created by the evening’s wind as it blew across the surface of the water. Strangely, there was an honest to God boom-box sat next to Cas, which would have undoubtedly scared away any fish in the area if it was playing music. Which… it wasn’t. Even from the other end of the dock, Dean could see the tape holder was open and empty.

Dean stands there long enough to see the little bobber start bobbing in the water, flicking left and right as fish nibble on its bait. It’s not long after that the lure disappears completely, sinking below the surface of the water and into its murky depths as a fish takes the bait. But… Cas doesn’t react. In fact, he hadn’t even been looking at the lure. He must have been holding something in his hands - what exactly that is, Dean can’t see from here – as he can tell from Cas’s hunched posture that this mysterious object must be whatever had won Cas’s attention over his bait being taken.

“You know, you’re actually supposed to catch the fish when fishing. I get that it’s supposed to be relaxing, but… you could at least try to catch something when it’s on the end of your hook.”

Cas doesn’t jump or startle at his voice, much to Dean’s secret displeasure. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if Cas somehow sensed his presence. Maybe he could smell his scent or something. Hear his heartbeat. Feel his soul. Something like that.

What he does do is sigh. Loudly. Loud enough for Dean to hear from all the way over here, which kinda hurts if he’s being honest. That being said, he does put away whatever he was holding into his coat’s pocket and picks up the rod at Dean’s words and hooks the fish, reeling it in like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“I thought I’d give it a try. Perhaps make some sense of my thoughts,” Cas says without looking back at him, keeping his gaze fixated on the water ahead. “Try and see why so many are invested in this past time. I suppose maybe it’d be different if I was human, but… I just don’t get quite the same satisfaction.” It seems that, in a blink of an eye, Cas has the fish reeled in and dangling in the air in front of him. He gets the hook out of its mouth just as quick, looking down to the decent-sized carp he held in his hands. “What is it about fishing that makes it so worthwhile to humans? Is it the struggle of trying to reel it in? The sense of satisfaction you get out of pulling this creature from its habitat? Some feeling of power, a superiority, that you’ve outsmarted and outmuscled a lesser being than yourself?”

“Uh… I’m not much one for philosophical debates, Cas,” Dean looks to Cas wide-eyed, taking a few cautious steps onto the dock and towards him. “I just find it relaxing, I suppose. Bobby used to take me and Sammy out a few times when dad was off on hunts. We wouldn’t talk about dad, or where he’d be taking us once he got back - - if he got back. It was nice to just sit out in the sun, Bobby and Sam next to me and… get to feel some sense of peace that I haven’t felt since I was four.”

Castiel only hums at that, gently lowering the fish back down into the water and letting it swim away. “How did you find me?”

Dean steps even closer. “Sammy put a tracker on your phone a long time ago, bud. Can never be too careful.”

“Sam did?” Cas said, sounding genuinely surprised. The first bit of emotion Dean had heard slip into his voice.

“Yeah. I actually argued with him over it, believe it or not,” Dean shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, keeping a small amount of space between him and Cas. “Guess it turned out useful…”

Cas was still refusing to look at him, which was all kinds of frustrating. “When did…”

“Not long after you came back from… y’know… the Empty,” Dean gets out. “But, uh… he brought it up after you knocked us out with your mojo and ran off with Kelly against our wishes.”

Cas tenses up at that, carelessly tossing his fishing rod to the floor next to him and finally, finally, standing up from the edge of the dock and turning to face Dean. “And if I’d have gone with your wishes, there would have been every chance that Jack would have ended up dead – perhaps before he was even born!”

“Yeah? Well, he ended up dead anyway, didn’t he?” Dean says it like the words don’t hurt him as much as it does Cas. He says it like he doesn’t see the way Cas’s face fall, the little frustration he held shifts into what can only be described as both shock and grief. And then, to make it worse – and because he just can’t his mouth shout – he makes it a hundred times worse. “Maybe we’d be better off if we had stopped him from being born. At least then mom would still be alive.”

There wasn’t any grief left on Cas’s face. No sadness, no anger. It was nothing but disgust that he held for Dean and his words, and Dean knew he deserved such a look from Cas, but it wasn’t exactly like the rational part of his brain that knows this is in control right now.

“What do you want, Dean?” Castiel asks him, sounding too small and tired for a mighty angel of the Lord. “Did you track me all this way, come all the way out here to… what? To hurt me more?”

“No!” Dean yells, which totally defeats the point of what he’s trying to go with here. “No, that’s not why…” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes shut. “I… I came to bring you home.”

Castiel raises a single eyebrow up at him. “To… bring me home?”

“Yeah. You know, back to the bunker. Look Cas, I’m not stupid enough to pretend that I… that we don’t still need you.”

“That’s surprising to hear,” Castiel bites back. “Considering you think I’m the ‘thing’ that goes wrong in every mess we’ve been through.”

“That’s not-,” Dean tries, but Cas has already turned his back to him; hurriedly picking his fishing rod back up and began disassembling it. “I’m trying, okay?”

“Trying to do what?” Castiel grumbles under his breath, pulling apart the rod pieces a little harsher than he intended.

“What the hell do you think?!” Dean throws his hands in the air, letting his irritation boil over. “I’m trying to make things right, I guess. Trying to… to apologize.”

Castiel actually pauses in trying to stuff the rod back into its duffel, his head snapping up to look at Dean. “Apologize…? In what part of you admitting your wish for Jack to have been terminated before birth should I take as an apology?”

“Well… not… not that part,” Dean stutters out, taken aback by the fiery, spitting rage that Cas so rarely displays towards him. “If you’d just let me-,”

“No,” Castiel interrupts him, slowly rising back up with his duffel in hand. “You think you’re trying, Dean. You really do. But when it comes down to it, you’re not entirely ready to apologize to me. Not yet.” Dean couldn’t even get a word out as Cas reached into his trench-coat pocket before firmly planting something into his hand – something familiarly rectangular and thin in shape. “And even if you are… I’m certainly not ready to forgive.”

There was nothing Dean could do. Nothing but stand there in astonishment as Cas simply walked right by him, leaving him there standing at the end of the dock staring down at the object Cas has pressed into his hand. And honestly, this in itself was more painful than anything Cas could have ever said in return.

In his hand was a clearly well used, well-loved mixtape, his own writing staring back at him in crudely drawn sharpie on the faded white label:

‘Deans top 13 Zepp TRA XX’

“Thought I told you you’re supposed to keep gifts,” Dean just about manages to get out, braving a look up at Cas’s retreating form.

Castiel’s steps halt for just a moment. Just long enough to say one more thing before continuing on his way. “You did. But, it is to my knowledge that you only keep a gift so long as it is wanted, is it not?”

Never mind. He was wrong.

That hurt a lot more.

* * *

He was a dick.

He knew that. He got that now. But now, it seemed, was too late.

He can’t say he wasn’t angry, because he was. What he can say was that he held onto that anger for too long. That he didn’t stop for a moment to look at things the way Cas probably did. Instead, he only saw things the way his anger wanted to, to keep him steeped in that burning rage, letting himself lash out at Cas because it was easy. Because he’d put the blame on Cas so many times before, so why not do it again?

And now, Cas might be…

No. No, he refuses to believe it. Cas is fine. He’s made it out of a few bad scraps before, he’s sure Cas will find a way to take out those dick-head leviathans and… and Eve… the mother of all monsters… right?

“CAS!” His yell echoes between the trees that surround him, seemingly amplified by the low fog that swirls around him. An endlessly hopeful part of him expects to see that trench-coat-wearing idiot stumbling towards him in the distance, maybe a little bloodied and battle-worn but otherwise whole. But there’s nothing. Nothing but the odd stillness of Purgatory when creatures aren’t busy ripping each other apart.

How long had it been now? It had felt like he has been out here, wandering aimlessly for any sign of Cas for hours. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and that awful squeeze of fear clenches around his heart at the timer ticking down, making it hard to breathe.

29 minutes. That was all he had. 29 minutes to find Cas in the whole of Purgatory and get them back to the portal in time. It took him damn near an entire year to find Cas the last time. 29 minutes just wasn’t enough, and it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t… He couldn’t tell Cas what’s been tearing him up inside, can’t tell him what Cas shouldn’t have to hear from him to know, and now he never will and-

“No, no no…” The words spill out of his mouth without his permission, sounding as close to a whimper of pain that actual words possibly could.

He didn’t want to do it like this. Hell, he didn’t even know if Cas even had enough grace left to hear him. But he had to try. It worked last time, didn’t it? Every damn night…

“Cas? Cas I hope you can hear me… that wherever you are, it’s not too late,” It was harder than he expected, saying this out loud. Almost like he was accepting that he was never going to speak to Cas again. Never get to say these words face to face. “I should’ve stopped you. You’re my best friend, but I just let you go. ‘Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong.”

The incessant burning in his eyes gets too much, the heavy weight in his nose forcing a shaky sniffle out of him. He reaches out a hand to the tree next to him, barely enough time to process the scratchy roughness of the bark before his wobbly knees are giving out, forcing him down to a crouch, leaning his weight against the tree.

“I… Ohh…” He nearly says it, but the words get caught in the back of his throat. ‘Not yet’ a voice seems to whisper in his head. It was at least better than the voice that would always whisper ‘Never’ whenever he let himself think those words. “I don’t know why I get so angry. I just know – I know that – I-it’s always been there. And when things go bad, it just – it comes out. And I can’t – I can’t stop it. No matter how-,” His voice catches once more. He was well past the point of holding the tears back. “-How bad I want to, I just can’t stop it.”

This was it. He couldn’t hold back now. Not when this might be his last chance. Even if… Even if Cas was no longer alive to hear this message. “And – And I – I forgive you. Of course I forgive you. And – God, Cas. I love you. You hear me? I love you. And I – I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m sorry it took me till now, till it might be too damn late to say it. Cas, I’m – I’m so sorry. I hope you can hear me… Please, hear me…”

He can almost hear the ‘whomp’ of wings he hasn’t heard in years. Could almost envision the sight of Cas stood behind him, head tilted to the side, looking to him in genuine angel curiosity as he answers Dean’s prayers. But when he looks around, the forests of Purgatory look just as empty through his tear-filled vision as they did moments before. “Okay…” Dean forces himself up, wiping a hand down his face to wipe away any evidence of what had just happened. Reset himself back to Dean Winchester. Hunter. Son of John Winchester.

Get the job done. Get back home.

His mind seems to switch off after that. He’s sure he looked every part the stereotypical zombies in the movies and tv shows and comics as he shuffles forward in the direction of the portal, face blank and devoid of life, shotgun heavy in hand and only the barest of survival instincts keeping an eye out for any movement within the trees.

He wasn’t far now. Just up ahead was his way out of here. He would step through, and be home. Without the flower. And… and without Cas. Mom. Jack. Rowena. Now Cas? What was the point? Would the world expect him to keep fighting if he lost Sammy too? And… God, what if Cas wasn’t dead? What if he walks through that portal, letting it close behind him, and leaves Cas here to be trapped for eternity?

Maybe he still had time. Maybe he could-

No. He didn’t. The timer on his phone displaying the numbers ’00:02:56’ proved as much. There wasn’t time. Cas was-

“Dean?”

Both hands are wrapped around his shotgun and pointing it towards the direction of the voice before his mind has fully caught up. His finger slides away from the trigger as his mouth falls open, lowering the end of the shotgun down at the sight of Cas, glorious Cas, looking a little worse for wear sat at the base of a tree. He looked every bit as dirty, bloodied, and miserable as anyone would after nearly twenty-four hours in Purgatory, but it didn’t matter, as it was the best sight Dean had ever seen.

Cas looks equally as shocked to see him, grimacing to himself as he pushes himself up to stand. “You made it?”

Dean can’t help but laugh. Not really the time for laughing, but it was mostly the delirium and pure, sweet relief bursting out of him. “I made it?”

Cas stumbles towards him, a bit of a limp in his gait, and Dean quickly makes up the short distance between them, throwing his arms around Cas and pulling the angel towards him. Cas feels real and solid pressed against his chest, and Dean thumps his hands against Cas’s back almost to prove to himself that the whole of Cas is here and intact. He almost wasn’t. He almost lost one of the only people left in this world he can say that he loves.

Which... which he’s said now.

“You okay?” Dean asks as soon as he feels Cas begin to push away from him, letting his eyes scan across Cas’s form to check for any obvious wounds or spilling of grace.

“I’m fine,” Castiel insists, probably a lie if Dean knows him. But, other than the sluggishly bleeding scrape on Cas’s head, he does look fine.

“What happened?”

“They were after me, not you,” Castiel gets out through panting, pained-sounding breaths. Yeah, sure. Fine. “I figured it would be safest to give myself up.”

And there it is again. Just another goddamn slap to the face. Even after everything that’s happened, after all the awful crap he’s said to Cas, the way he’s treated him… Cas was so willing to just put himself in the firing line for him.

‘These are not just monsters, Dean. They’re Leviathan. I have a price on my head, and I’ve been trying to stay one step ahead of them, to – to keep them away from you.’

“They take you to Eve?”

“Yeah. We were en route. I waited until I… saw this,” Cas reached into his trench-coat pocket, pulling out a sad-looking excuse for a flower that looked about as beat up as the person holding it. “It… got a little smushed.”

Dean could almost cry. Again. Here Cas was, somehow having escaped from a bunch of freak leviathans before being handed over to what would likely be horrendous torture and a death sentence from the mother of all monsters, manages to find the stupid fucking flower they came all the way out here for, get all the way back to the portal where he sits and waits for him… and he looks embarrassed that the flower got a little ‘smushed?’

That’s beside the fact that he probably crushed it by hugging Cas.

“Once I had the blossom, I fought; caught them off guard,” Cas continued. “They fought back. I managed to get away.”

Dean smiles. For what feels like the first time in quite a while, he smiles. “You did it. You did it, Cas.”

And then, by some miracle by God – wait no, not him, by something or someone… Cas gives him a tentative smile back. “Well, they’re still after me. We should hurry,” Cas gestures with a small shake of his head towards the portal, already starting to move away.

“Okay, Cas I need to say something-,”

“You don’t have to say it,” Castiel interrupts, that tentative smile back on his face. “I heard your prayer.”

But that wasn’t enough. Sure, it was of some comfort knowing that the prayer had at least reached Cas, but… but something didn’t sit right with him about that. Besides the fact that what he said is something that really should be said face to face (and maybe sending a message like that over the prayer is the equivalent of sending it over text message or… or voicemail?), Cas’s reaction was just… not what he was expecting. Not that Cas was ever entirely predictable in his reactions, and perhaps basing what Cas’s reaction would be on what his reaction would be if Cas ever confessed to him like that wasn’t the best of ideas, but… still, it was odd. Dean was expecting at least something, some sort of reaction to his words other than an acknowledgment that it had been heard.

Cas was right, though. They really needed to hurry; what with a bunch of leviathans after them and probably around 30 seconds left before the portal closes behind them.

They race towards the portal, his hand on Cas’s back helping to push him forward as he struggles with that new limp of his. Dean can hear his pulse racing in his ears as they step closer and closer to the portal, watching its light flicker and shimmer as it struggles to stay open. He wouldn’t be surprised if God had somehow caught wind of their plans, and was waiting until the very last second when they were about to step through, to close the portal a few seconds earlier and laugh in their faces as the portal disappears from sight.

But that’s not what happens. They step through the portal, one after the other, neither being left behind. There’s a split second of nothing but blinding white as the portal flares, losing sight of Cas for just a moment, and then he’s there again; stood just in front of him in the bunker, the tension and stress of Purgatory already draining away from his hunched posture.

The portal gives one last pathetic flicker, and then it’s closing down on itself. The bunker is left in silence, the crackle of the portal’s energy gone, and they’re both left standing facing each other in this awkward, “what happens now” kind of stillness.

“Um… I suppose I should-,” Cas begins, taking the flower out from his pocket and motioning towards the bunker hallway.

“Cas, wait,” Dean pleads, taking an unsure step towards Cas, who freezes in place with flower still in hand. “I… I really need to talk to you, man.”

Castiel’s forehead creases in confusion, hesitantly reaching back into his pocket to put the flower back. “I already told you, Dean. I heard your prayer-,”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dean cuts him off with a wave of his hand. His tongue darts out to wet his upper lip, a nervous gesture he could never quite hide. “I just… I feel like you should hear it directly from me, if that makes sense?”

“Not really.”

Dean huffs. “Look Cas, it’s… I meant it, okay? Even if I was panicking over the thought of you being stuck in purgatory again and… it wasn’t just a “I might as well say it because you might be dead” kind of thing, okay?”

“I know,” Castiel says, still looking just as confused as he did moments ago. “I know you’re sorry, Dean. It’s okay. I believe you.”

And then Cas turns to walk away again, and Dean can’t help but get the feeling that Cas isn’t quite getting what he’s trying to say here. So, he darts out a hand and grasps Cas’s arm, bringing the angel to a standstill. Cas looks down at Dean’s hand around his arm in genuine surprise, almost as if Dean had done something incredible offensive, and then brings his gaze up to meet Dean’s desperate one. “Dean? Are you okay?”

Dean couldn’t help it. He laughs, though it sounds about as humorless as he was feeling right now. “No, Cas. I’m not. But… are you… did you hear my entire prayer?”

Castiel frowns at him again, blue eyes scanning across the sudden, unexpected timidness look on Dean’s face. “Yes. I heard all of it.”

Dean returns the inquisitive gaze, searching for any kind of reaction, a give of some sort that Cas was thinking back to those words he had prayed to him. But there’s nothing. Nothing but the usual patient look that Castiel always held. “Listen man, I’m always one for avoiding big girly talks as much as the next guy, but… are you really not going to say anything about it?”

“About what?”

Damn it. He’s really gonna make him say it again, huh?

“You know… the bit about how I uh… the thing I said, after I said I was sorry?”

“Oh!” Castiel says, his tone bright in realization. “When you said you love me?”

And wow, what a way for Cas to say it. Like it was just… a matter of fact. Like he was simply stating what the fucking weather was like.

Dean must be staring at Cas with a damn right bewildered face right now, as the look of concern Castiel had worn for pretty much this entire conversation began to increase tenfold. “What is it?”

“Seriously?” Dean splutters out, throwing his hands up in the air. “You’re telling me I had to discover this mind-altering revelation for myself, keep it pushed down, come to terms with it and finally get the balls to admit it to you, and your reaction is absolutely nothing?”

“But… I already knew you loved me?”

It’s enough to bring Dean’s mind to a standstill. Had he… he had somehow told Cas he loved him and didn’t remember it? Oh God, that damn memory spell… had he somehow called Cas and told him something before his memory completely went kaput? No, no, it couldn’t have been that… the counter spell regained all his memories of that shitty night, he’s pretty sure… Could Cas sense it, somehow? What if it was in his soul? Some kind of change to his soul that Cas picked up on?

“You… you knew?”

“Yes… You’ve reiterated to me many times that I’m like a brother to you, and, given your connection to Sam, I assumed that meant that kind of love extended to me as well? I don’t mean to offend you Dean, the fact that you put me in the same regard as Sam is an honor of itself-,”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, Cas. Oh, Cas, Cas, Cas. He had listened to what he had said, but he hadn’t really heard him. Strangely, it kind of hurt to think that, upon hearing his confession, Cas had just sort of automatically assumed that he had meant he loved him like a brother. Perhaps it hurt because, he wasn’t sure if Cas assumed that because of the way he’s always treated him, or because Cas could just never see Dean in any other way.

“Not what I meant, Cas,” Dean says quietly, though the words sounded loud in the quiet of the room. “Oh, Cas. You damn fool… I didn’t mean as a brother.”

Cas almost looks scared, and it’s about the equivalent of a rusty knife being twisted in his gut. Cas looked scared to be hopeful. Like he was scared to think of what his words meant. Dean reaches out a hand once more, gently grabbing hold of the sleeve of Cas’s trench coat. Cas doesn’t flinch or move his arm away, so Dean lets his hand slowly slip down, lets his fingers settle in the gap between Cas’s. Cas’s breath hitches at the feeling of warm skin against his hand, his eyes darting to their entwined hands then back up to Dean. His mouth parts, a question on his lips, which Dean answers with his own.

It’s… not what he was expecting. There’s no moment of inner panic, no feeling of wrongness that has him ripping away from Cas and furiously wiping at his lips. But it’s no “fireworks” moment, either. Cas’s lips are, confusingly, chapped and dry from the cold winds of Purgatory, and yet have a tender softness to them that has him leaning closer for more. He doesn’t taste like… well, that one Dean wasn’t sure about. He had kinda been expecting some kind of… of… soapy cleanliness taste of pure, heavenly Grace. But no, Cas tastes like dirt and sweat with a little metallic twang from what was likely a busted-up lip. It’s nothing like any girl he’s ever kissed has tasted like, and strangest of all, he doesn’t give him a damn. He’s not panicking about kissing Cas because “It’s Cas!”, he’s sinking into it, melting into the touch of Cas’s hand on his back, because It’s Cas.

But the moment can’t last forever. Cas goes tense under his hands, a sudden fear taking hold, and then he’s holding Dean at arm’s length. His eyes are wide and fixated on Dean’s face, chest rising and falling in tandem with his harsh breaths, despite the fact Dean’s fairly sure Cas doesn’t even have to breathe.

“Did you mean it?” Castiel asks, his fingers tightening their grip around Dean’s shoulders. “You… you love me like…?”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean says with a blissed-out smile. “Not like a brother. I don’t just love you. I’m in love with you. And listen, I know I kinda sprung this up on you at a bad time, and… I know I’ve acted like a real jerk to you lately, so you have every right to just pretend like this never happened and-,”

“Don’t be an idiot, Dean Winchester,” Castiel cut him off, but there’s no malice to his voice as he does it. In fact, the small pull of a smile at the corner of his mouth widens to a gummy smile that Dean knows means this is a really happy Cas, and considering how rare he sees that from Cas, it brings him a sense of satisfaction that he’s the reason Cas is smiling like that.

“Sorry, Cas. Being an idiot is just who I am. Especially considering I was apparently stupid enough to go and fall in love.”

And then it’s Cas’s turn to make Dean freeze up in disbelief and stare at Cas wide-eyed, because he chuckles warmly at Dean’s statement and tells him, “I suppose that makes me stupid too, then.”

“Oh…” Is all Dean can squeak out, probably the un-manliest he’s ever sounded, but considering the beaming smile Cas sends his way, he guesses Cas didn’t seem to mind. “You, uh… you don’t have to say it if you don’t-,”

“I love you,” Castiel confessed, soft and sweet, yet it punches into Dean hard. “But I thought you already knew that.”

“Maybe you should stop assuming things, Cas.”

“And maybe you should stop waiting until you think I’m dead to say how you feel.”

“Touché,” Dean settles, grabbing hold of Cas’s hand once more and tugging him towards the door. “Oh, and-,” He stops mid-stride, Cas nearly colliding into him. Dean forces down a grin at Cas’s curious head tilt as he searches in his jacket pocket, pulling out the mixtape he’s kept there ever since Cas gave it back to him and planting it perhaps a little too harshly against Cas’s chest. “Don’t you ever try and give this back to me again.”

Cas places his free hand atop Dean’s on his chest, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Cas grabs hold of the mixtape before it can drop to the ground as Dean removes his hand, fingers curled protectively around the tape as he looks down at it with a fond smile.

“I suppose I should have known,” Castiel murmurs quietly, eyes softening with realization as he stares down at the tape. “You already tried to give your love to me. It was just in a language I had yet to truly understand.”

#Destiel #destiel fanfiction #Destiel fanfic #oneshot #castiel/dean winchester #castiel/dean #angst #angst with a happy ending

[icedcappujaeno]

twist | lty

➩ pairing: gamer/barista taeyong & reader ➩ genre: (extreme dosage of) fluff ➩ words: 5k ➩ warnings: too much fluff. handle uwus with care.

a/n: OH LOOK. ICEDCAPPUJAENO’S POSTING A FIC AGAIN?! I thought it was a meme blog--!! Hell yes I am! Supposedly this fic was going to be posted last Christmas (I gave you my heart-?) but we had to go out-of-town to celebrate the holidays, thus no proofread and all but voila! I present to you, my gift to everyone on this site who’s been with me all throughout 2019! I know I haven’t been the best in posting my works now and then but please don’t blame me, I got the job that I wanted so it kept me busy and I’m a person that would prefer career over hobbies most of the time. But yes, anyway, enough being sappy, thank you so much for everything and please look forward to more works in the upcoming year!

It's never too late for a really big plot twist for you and player rubbiesyong.

Christmas — the season of joy, the season were everyone would momentarily forget conflicts and be giving, the season to be jolly. 

Everyone in the dorms already left to come home for the holidays, but not you. Not with the burden of a thesis, the expensive amount of plane tickets, the hassle of being stuck in a crowd in airports — you decided to stay in your dorm, alone, yet maybe, this was another experience you’ve yet to face.

However, it wasn’t as joyful and breathtaking as you thought. 

Being scooped up in the dorm was most likely the most boring experience you had—and the motivation to complete your thesis chapters was downright zero. The weather isn’t cooperating as well: the low degrees and negatives making you wrap yourself in a blanket and stay under its warm covers, along with some Netflix. 

But at some point, you got tired of watching. 

Four days into the holiday season the app was already boring you. Thus, you mindlessly searched for games - the hobbies you once enjoyed when you were younger. Any genre was fine, although there was a magnet between you and MMORPGs. Searching for one, and alas - a free to play with good reviews appeared, downloading the installer not a minute after.

As soon as you installed the game into your laptop, the dialogue box said it would take around 5 hours. With that, for the first time that day, you looked at the time - 3 minutes past 2 o’clock. A low growl came from your stomach, it was no surprise as you’ve only been eating chips and coffee since you woke up. With a stretch, you rose from the bed, trying to beat the lazy syndrome that’s gotten to you.

You hissed as your feet pressed flat to the cold floors. To be honest, you don’t want to leave the bed, however, your back already started to feel some pain from lying all day. You got up, trotted your way to the bathroom and washed. Once done, you fished the coat, gloves, and scarf, and bag from behind the door, leaving your laptop open while the game installs.

The cafe bell that hung loosely on the glass door rang as Taeyong entered, the warm breeze brought by the heater comforting his near numb senses from the cold wind outside. Even with the low temperature, Taeyong decided to open the shop even he thinks that the customers won’t come to this kind of weather. It was a tough decision from him, especially the part where he decides to get up from bed, an addition would be texts from his baristas that they’ll pass work for today. 

But the cafe work attracted him like a magnet, even if he was up staying up all night playing a game. Nevertheless, if he did reach half the quota for today, he’d close up, snuggle into the warmth of his blanket once again, lost in the virtual reality his game would bring.

Time passed quickly in the cafe, and when Taeyong looked up the wall clock, it was almost past 2, and while he didn’t reach half the quota of the day, Taeyong decided it was time to close up. Looking outside, it seemed like the weather isn’t clearing up any time soon. A grunt escaped from his lips as he stretched, his back and butt aching from almost sitting all day. 

As he was about to reach for his cleaning tools, the bell rang, signaling an entrance of a customer. A smile automatically waved through his lips, a manner he got out of habit. 

“Hello, welcome to our shop.”

The walk to the nearest cafe was tedious: the icy path made it quite hard to balance and the chill breeze hitting your cheeks wasn’t helping at all. Your lips are chapped brought by the cold wind, thus making you hiss as you enter the warmth of the shop.

Though the heat from the cafe was comforting, the slit you made from trying to remove the skin from your chapped lips stung. You didn’t even hear the barista greet you—going straight to the counter without even minding the polite gesture from the staff.

“Caramel macchiato, and a slice of banana bread.”

“Are you okay? Your lip is bleeding.”

You touched your lip in reflex, for a moment your eyes widened at the sight of red within your fingertips. You were about to fish for the handkerchief from your pocket, but when nothing came to your senses, you bite your lip—hissing as you made the wound even worse, tasting the irony substance within your palate.

He hands you a tissue, and to be honest, you almost forgot about the barista in front of you. You looked up to thank him, noticing his sharp features—his brows were thick and manly, the shape of his jaw carved in an almost perfect sculpture. Although skinny, he looked so menacing, but when he showed you the softest smile you’ve ever seen—the intimidating aura blew away. His eyes started to grow a little bigger in your vision, pursed lips as he tried to suppress the laughter coming.

“So, it’s a caramel macchiato, and a slice of banana bread, correct?”

He chuckled, a low vibrato heartily coming from his as he punched your order in. He asked for your name and you answered rather immediately. And if you weren’t embarrassed enough after the scenario, your stomach growled once again, and the urge to run away to avoid further shame from the cute guy was spiking. 

“Is banana bread enough?” He asked, very amused with the situation. 

“Yeah. It is.”

He hummed, telling you to take a seat as he prepares your order. You did as told, sitting on the closest chair next to the counter. You watch him work behind—and you have to admit that encountering a cute barista like him, in winter, was a scenario you’d only imagine in dramas and fiction, it was surreal. The fact that someone this good looking exist was beyond your comprehension.

Needless to say, you developed this tiny, tiny, bitsy crush on this guy.

You turned to look around the shop: you ordered here before but most of the time, you ordered your coffee to go before going to the university. With the rush, you never noticed the cozy atmosphere that lingers on its surroundings—an LP player on the side, a touch of antiquity that brings some unique features for the shop. It emits a calming aura that reminds you of home.

It seemed like you found a new place to stay.

“Caramel macchiato, and a plate of carbonara with garlic bread on the side,” you hear the barista say that broke your reverie, along with the clink of the utensils when it collided with the glass table. The pasta’s smell was inviting, but pretty sure that you only brought enough money for a slice of bread and a cup of coffee.

Incredulously, you declined his offer, polite enough to let a smile pass your lips. “I didn’t order it…”

“Taeyong,” he finishes your sentence, although it was not what you had in mind. “It’s on the house.”

You gulped, looking at him foolishly for a moment, then pushed the plate away while standing up to only get the warm coffee cup. “I’m not that hungry…”

As if on cue, your stomach growled once more.

You groaned, face flushing from another embarrassment brought by your involuntary body actions. Taeyong laughed this time, not just a giggle, rather a hearty one that made his eyes crinkle in delight, showing the molars and fangs that made him look like a lion cub.

“Eat up. You need it.”

He said as he gently pushed you back to your seat with your shoulders. “I’d be disappointed if you’d decline my offer.”

With the aroma of the food in front of you and the request of the cute barista-slash-waiter of this cafe, you submitted. Whole-heartedly. Taeyong never left your side as you took the first bite, and when you hummed in satisfaction of how great it tasted, a smile plastered on his lips. 

“This is good Taeyong!”

He shrugged, and you feel smug in his aura as he did the action.

“Expected. Now, finish that up so I can close up.”

You didn’t need any reminder. There was nothing on your plate as you finished the food.

Your stay at the cafe took longer than expected. The initial plan was to order take out and stay at home, watch some Netflix again as you wait for the game to download. But once you took a peek at your laptop, the game was done and ready to play.

Once you pressed the button, a young woman, elegant and pristine in her frilly dress, welcome you to the virtual world. She was all smiles when she made the entrance cue, and let you decide the class you want to main. You spent a few minutes in the tutorials and customization, and when you feel your neck ache from numbness and eyes strained, you stopped, satisfied with the character on the screen.

The first quests were easy—making you lose track of the time. Not with how your character seemed to be enjoying to slay the demons and monsters in the game, time passed by so quickly that it was past dinner when you glanced at the clock. You stretched your arms, forcing yourself to get up to get dinner, starting by boiling water in the kettle pot to make instant ramen.

Thirteenth day on your vacation.

Character? Leveled up. Accessories included an armor that boosted defense. The headdress that increases magic. The staff that was initially without power now holds ice magic.

Thesis? Still on the same page.

You sighed. This wasn’t part of the holiday plan. Initially, you were going to finish your paper after Christmas, have it revised and to be submitted before the new term starts. But here you are, sitting on your study table, but no word applications opened, nor any site with related literature. Instead, the whole screen was engulfed in bright colors, your character (fully armed, by the way) smiled at you while she stands while you’re on AFK.

When you glance at the time, it was fifteen minutes past five. You called in for pizza, and after the beep, there was contemplating between your thoughts:  should I finish at least ten pages of my paper, or wait until my order arrives and start doing work after eating?

You sighed. The former was a better option (in terms of productivity), to say the least. At least you’re starting.

But as you were about to log out, a bubble appeared on the side of the screen. 

Hey.

The bubble flashed, signaling a personal message.

It was from player rubbiesyong . That dude who helped you during a difficult mission; as you presumed—but turns out you got lost with a fork and went to the high-ranking road instead. Player rubbiesyong slew all the enemies, and even though you are trying your best to keep him alive by healing, it seemed like you were only there for the cheer and tickles.

Heya ruby! 

You typed back, a nickname you gave to him as calling him with his full username was kind of a hassle. 

You up for a short quest? I need a hand with some as well as my daily.

Oh shit.

You bit your lip. The offer was tempting, but since rubbiesyong messaged, the decision was changed into the latter: doing your paper after eating pizza for dinner. However, with the circumstances—truly, it was stressing. The temptation is there, and deep in your heart and mind you wanted to keep playing but the obligations and guilt of finishing your work were making your heart heavy.

As you were typing your reply, you see a notification that says rubbiesyong is in-game.  His character spawned next to yours, all in his glorious armor. 

Sorry...gotta do some work first...maybe next time?

You don’t see his reply for a while, and while you were waiting, the doorbell rang. It was the pizza delivery guy, and once the food was paid, you slide your laptop away from a little to the side to have space for your food. When you thought everything was set, you sat back down, feeling the warmth of the chair against your bottoms once more. Ruby replied to your message.

Damn. But that’s okay. I understand.

It’s only virtual, you thought, but you can’t help but feel guilty with a slight pang of the chest. Although you’ve only known this person for days, it was as if you knew each other for a long time. Even though you’re only doing quests in the virtual world, with how he helped you leveled up and gave tips soften your emotions. 

There is a living person behind rubbiesyong , and although you know how dangerous it is to trust someone you met online, talking to him was comfortable. You already considered him as a friend.

I guess I’ll see you later then.

You sighed and bite your lip. Your anxiety levels were rising as you stared longer at his reply. No emoji? He’s disappointed. Before munching on pizza, you replied to his short farewell.

If I get this done I’ll come ASAP hehe. Wait for meee!!  With the emphasis on the triple ‘e’. Somehow, there was guilt in your chest, mainly because of leaving a friend, and partly because you want to play badly.

Alright ^_^ 

He replied, and this time with an emoji that lessened your worry. A smile crept to your lips, anticipation with finishing your work for you to set yourself into the virtual world.

Brb!! Enjooooooy and see ya later! :)

It was half-past eight when you glance to your desk clock, the pizza box now empty along with the 2 mugs of coffee you made for yourself. You managed to finish what you ought to do, thankfully, but not leaving a sore back and strained eyes from staring at the computer screen for a very long time, with only trips to the restroom as breaks. You cleaned your mess but not before taking a sip of water.

When you returned to your desk, a sigh escaped your lips. Ruby is probably offline by now. Who would wait for long hours for a stranger? He’s probably resting by now, in his bed, maybe with warm cocoa…

You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t imagine how Ruby would look like, but for sure he’s a guy as you asked in the early stages of your meeting to make sure the pronouns you’ll use are spot on. The assumption was there, ranging from good to bad, however, it isn’t bad to dream that he’s quite the good-looking fella, right? It was inevitable as his character looked so clean and fresh, so you’d imagine he’d look the same—but as they say,  don’t keep your hopes up. You try to keep it away from mind.

You logged in-game, and to no surprise, player rubbiesyong is offline.

Although it was expected, the notification brought you a heavy heart. Playing with Ruby is always exciting, but what can you do? The banters were always fun, most especially when you two role-play with each other’s role. The priestess, who met a swordsman on the way, bickering as they do adventures together. It was in this virtual world that you can feel genuine happiness somehow, that is why you look forward to every game with him.

With a heavy heart, you go on with your daily quest alone.

Two days later, you found yourself sitting in the cafe where you encountered Taeyong, but the barista was different for today. Frankly, you were hoping for Taeyong—somehow he made you feel comfortable, a feeling that would equate like home. Although you only met him once, the atmosphere he radiated was warm like the confines of your room, but for the most part, you kinda feel guilty for the pasta he gave you as you’re not the type to owe favors, so you’re to return the favor.

Not only that, for today, the agenda was to finish at least chapter three and prepare a presentation for your upcoming defense. The game was left untouched for the time being as you were trying to make up for the lost time you spent playing games. You were so immersed in your paper that you didn’t notice Taeyong coming in, although not dressed for work. He immediately noticed your slouched figure and the cup of coffee beside your laptop, so dangerously close that a little, leaning mistake would spill over your desk. 

A hand pushed your coffee cup away from your laptop, and you were about to spare a glare but you see Taeyong’s toothy grin. He was dressed casually: you noticed how odd the mix in his fashion taste but it fits him either way. 

“Good morning, Ms. Caramel macchiato,” the grin never leaving his lips. “I see you’re working hard even on the holidays.”

Baffled by his use of nicknames, you chuckled. “I am, good sir. I see it’s your off today.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged, then took his coat off his shoulders as the warmth of the cafe started to seep into the fabric of his clothing. “Mind if I join you?”

“I would be lying if I said no, because I badly need to finish my agenda for today and you distracting me isn’t a great idea.”

Taeyong momentarily stopped as you were speaking. He looked at you quite a few seconds after you talked, then blinked almost comically. He never expected for you to blurt out like that, but then, when he glanced at the screen of your laptop, it was quite understandable as to why you’re acting as such. His eyes started to roam around to find a vacant seat, or he could always hang out in the staff office.

“Oh, Uhm, sorry. I’ll just take another-”

“But a company is great,” he heard you say, and when he glanced back at you, you were sipping your coffee, eyes glued to the computer screen. You then looked at his back with a raised brow. “You didn’t let me finish.”

What a strange fellow, indeed. Taeyong thought and was about to retort back when his co-worker behind the counter called him. He excused himself, telling you that he’ll be back in a minute. Honestly, you could care less, but the kick of the caffeine was needing you to move your lips, hence the disappointment was washing your features. You hid it with a smile though and sent him off, going back to the paper you’re working on.

And true to his word, Taeyong did come back, two cups of steaming drink in his hand. He placed them on the table, pushing one to your side. It was chamomile tea.

“Yours.”

“It’s not in the house, is it?”

“It is,” he chuckled, sitting on the seat opposite of yours. The scent from the tea was inviting, although you’re not much of a tea person. Taeyong seemed to notice this and pointed towards the cup. “It will help you relax.”

“Biscuits, as ordered,” you hear the barista say as he carefully placed the tray of assorted biscuits on your table. Taeyong thanked the guy, and while you were so focused on the cute animal-shaped biscuits, you failed to notice the smirk growing on the barista’s lips. He gave Taeyong a quick nudge to which he shooed him off quietly, making the barista leave but without suppressing a peal of silent laughter.

“You’re paying for this, Taeyong. I don’t have enough allowance anymore.”

“I am,” he laughed, and the way his lips widely stretch that showed his pearly whites and the eyes crinkling reminded you of a baby fox. You can’t help but laugh along as it was contagious, and never have you felt comfortable in the presence of another person in a long time.

“Sorry, I know I’m distracting you. So I’ll just sit down and behave quietly while you work.”

“No, it’s fine,” stretching your arms was almost as relaxing as you were slouched for hours now. “I need someone to keep me sane. The words are already jumbling-look,” you turned your laptop screen to him. “The grammar is everywhere, all I can see are red lines.”

He laughed, once again, and to be honest, every time he does, you were becoming more and more infatuated. “Alright, I’m Taeyong and here to keep you sane.”

You giggled. People like these are genuinely rare these days. Your instinct also seemed to like him, as normally you’d be avoiding these situations as much as possible. But, for the one who gave you free pasta when you were starving and now, free tea and biscuits? How can you be so wary of such a guy?

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he started, and your gaze shifted to him as he trailed off his question. You nodded as you took a sip of the now-warm chamomile tea, urging for him to continue his query. “What do you do?”

You put the cup down and tell about yourself. That you are a full-time graduate student and working as a part-time assistant professor at the university. In your field, although there are holidays, your principal investigator will roast you if you haven’t done anything over the holidays- where is the data? Have you thought of another problem already?  -  cute phrases that your principal investigator will ask you. He seemed to be so interested that a question led to another, and that when you glanced at the clock of your screen, two hours had already passed and nightfall was about to come as it was getting dark outside.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, I took most of your time.”

Taeyong said, and his tone sounded so concerned and genuinely apologetic. You shake your head with a smile, putting back your laptop inside your bag and taking one last of the biscuit on the table.

“It’s really fine, Taeyong! I enjoyed it as well, plus, I told you I needed a break. That’s exactly what I needed,” you chuckled. “So thank you.”

“Sure, always here to help,” he mirrored your reaction as a light chuckle escaped from his. “Anyway, is it okay if I asked your number? I mean, you don’t need to, just, you know, if you need someone to talk to-”

You laughed at how he stuttered, lightly hitting his shoulder with how stupidly cute he looked. Of course, who would miss an opportunity to get a number of a cute guy? Not you. So you asked for his phone and vice versa, both of you satisfied with your goodbyes as your numbers were saved directly in your contacts.

You also never missed the opportunity to hit the button favorite upon his contact details.

Going to the cafe became a habit, and time passes so quickly that you didn’t notice that it was the 24th of December already: the sign on the cafe door the only thing that reminded you of the day. 

You sighed. And you were even looking forward to the coffee, pastries, and Taeyong’s company. His presence and the coffee he brought seemed to boost your efficacy—you finished your due papers in time, and today was going to be a break, but with the locked door and closed blinds, the plan was ruined. Along the way home, you ordered a small cake for yourself, and a bottle of red wine for later’s celebration.

Going home was the only option, and when you’re back at the comforts of your duvet, you opened your laptop, log on to the virtual world. The usual, with a smile, your character greeted you. At the very least, you’re happy. Maybe in another world, but it’s all good. 

You started clicking on the quests on the side of the screen. Spending the Christmas online sounded lonely, but celebrating it alone outside—just the thought of it makes you shudder for it was freezing, and walking nor eating along on the eve of Christmas will earn you pitiful stares. You stood up and boiled water to make hot cocoa, a perfect drink to accompany your online adventures. And who said it was lonely? The lobby was full of online players publicly chatting and greeting everyone a  Merry Christmas! , and of course, although alone but with the spirit, you greeted them back as well.

The first quest was not so bad, it was only delivering some goods to one NPC to another. The second one wasn’t so bad either—slaying low levels monsters in the forest nearby. However, the third quest, unbelievably, was consuming your time. The former only took around 30 minutes each, but an hour has passed and you’re still stuck: escort this NPC to the palace without him dying from bandits along the way. 

rubbiesyong is now online.

The notification never failed to catch your attention, and genuinely surprised. There was an assumption that Ruby is the type to spend Christmas with his loved one: may it be family or friends—there was an aura behind his character that radiates. You haven’t been online for days finishing your paper, and how badly you want to greet him a Merry Christmas, but wouldn’t it be awkward? The thought crossed your mind, but another notification bubble popped on the side of your screen.

rubbiesyong: Merry Christmas!

A smile crept on your lips, anxiety decreasing as you replied a  Merry Christmas! back. 

rubbiesyong: Haven’t seen you for days, busy?

You replied with a yes. You wanted to tell him everything that happened in the past few days, though you know it isn’t an obligation, and you were too lazy to type.

rubbiesyong: I see.

rubbiesyong: mind if I join you? Bored to death lmao

A sigh of relief came through, and there were no options as you desperately want to finish this never-ending quest you’re stuck on (which you weren’t supposed to be, you are just a noob).

Not a minute later, Ruby joined your group, his character stood side of yours. You explained the quest you’re currently doing, and it seemed like he was typing something so long that the group chat was continuously showing rubbiesyong is typing…  notification.

rubbiesyong: can we voice chat instead? It’s too long to type haha

Voice chat. 

Honestly, it was a thing you avoid as there is an underlying feeling of insecurity—you weren’t very confident with your voice over the line. Another is the anxiety of struggling with your words—a very common occurrence every time you’re on the line. However, as you agree with Ruby with the feeling of laziness, plus his tips will probably lead you better on finishing your quest.

rubbiesyong entered the voice chat.

You turned on the voice chat as you put your earphones on. You waited for him to speak first, but since he was not saying anything, you were about to open your mouth as you hear a masculine voice over.

“Hello?”

Oddly familiar, you thought, but you shrugged the idea off. Maybe all guys sounded familiar over the line? You weren’t sure, but it wasn’t of priority. You whispered a subtle hello back and you hear him laugh, a deep baritone resonating on the line. 

“I guess it’s connected,”  there goes the laugh again, and you can’t help but imitate the action. 

“Cute voice,”  Ruby commented that halted your laugh. You were thankful that he couldn’t see your face as you were sure that you’re flushing with the sudden compliment. 

“Whatever,” an attempt to change the topic, you asked him what to do and of course, you told him where you’re stuck on. He guided you throughout as expected—the quest being chicken with Ruby at your party. He guarded your back as you escort the NPC to the designation, and although he took a few hits here and there, Ruby slew the bandits that resulted in success.

“Ah, finally!” You stretched your arms when the screen flashed glitter gold letters of completed! for the quest. You hear Ruby laughed and there were sounds of clapping in the background. 

“Congrats.”

You chuckled, taking a sip of the water beside you that you got while on a short break. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Ruby!”

“Calling me Ruby in type-chat is okay but it feels weird hearing it to be honest,”  he chuckled.

“I kinda feel the same when you call me with mine, but it’s fine? I’m not sure how to feel, to be honest.”

“But you know, you sound familiar, I swear I heard your voice before.”

“You know what? I thought of that too!” Unbelievably, you feel like you’re closer to this stranger as well—not only because you met for a while now, but his voice just sounded so amicable. “What are the chances, right?!”

“Yeah,”  you hear him pause and breathe, and when you feel like the silence is getting awkward, you initiated another conversation by asking him:

“Why are you online this very Christmas eve?”

“Got nothing better to do,”   he sighed, and you thought he drank from something as an exhale from his lips rang over the line. “Don’t have work today since it’s Christmas, and plane tickets are hella expensive. I miss my sister and mom though, especially my dog.”

Hearing him talk about family made you think of your own, and the feeling of homesickness hit you like a deer-in-headlights. You sighed and rested your head comfortably on the pillow in front of you. “Yeah, same.”

“What about you?”

You told him your reasons—that you were a graduate student finishing a paper for your defense on the upcoming semester, and the tickets for the same reason. Although he chuckled, it was cut short as he asked:

“By chance, do you ever stop by a cafe to do your work?”

“Yeah, I do,” you quipped slowly, eyebrow-raising from the sudden question from him. 

“Sorry if this is personal, is your name (Y/N) by chance?”

You feel your heart race faster than normal, how did this stranger know your name? No words were forming in your confused and tangled thoughts, and the only thing that came to mind was to disconnect, but Ruby beat you to it by saying:

“Shit, sorry, that was weird huh?”   You hear him sigh and he continued. “But like, in this cafe where I work, there’s this person who always comes in stressed—clearly, and you know, cute and all, we’ve become close you know? I have this tiny—hell, I have this crush and I even thought it was you.”

Did he just tell what happened to your daily life the past few days?

“They’re cool when they’re doing their stuff you know? Ah—I’m rambling. Sorry,” he chuckled apologetically, and even over the line you hear the sincerity in his tone. 

“No, no, it’s fine!” You bit your lip, a habit you got when you feel your anxiety reaching roof high. “Uhm, is your real name Taeyong, by any chance?”

What plot twist it is when you hear a pause—followed by a rather loud vocal of your name. In a questioning tone.

“Seriously?!”

“Lee Taeyong!?”

Another minute passed with exchanges as such, tossing your real names back and forth. It was the biggest plot twist of the year, you thought, as from what he said not too long ago was a subtle confession, isn’t it? That he had this crush on you?

Because you feel butterflies in your stomach as you feel the same way for him. The smile that grew fondly on you, his strong features that soften with every conversation, no matter how silly the topic is. You remember the first time you met, embarrassment was all around your facade, but his presence and soothing existence were enough to radiate a calming and comforting persona that you got infatuated with.

This has to be a joke, isn’t it?

Maybe he’s a hacker—stalker, who knows all about Taeyong and since they do know about Taeyong, they know about you as well? Maybe they’re using some sort of voice changer to make it sound like him. It’s a threat to National Security! It’s some overthinking, but—

“It’s me, you idiot! I can hear you overthinking!”  You hear a roaring laugh on the line, and it sounded genuine that he’s having fun.

“Yeah? If it’s you what was the thing I ordered in your cafe when we first met?”

“Caramel macchiato. A slice of banana bread. That was your order,”   with an emphasis on the word your. “Then I gave you a plate of carbonara, with garlic bread, all made with love.”

You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. 

“You’re not being discreet about it, Taeyong.”

“Well, I kinda confessed anyway. Not in the way I planned, but—“

“No need to worry about that,” you chuckled, burrowing your head to the pillow you’re propping on to muffle your next words.

“I like you too.”

“Come again? I think the line was choppy.”

You were sure that he still heard it, and that he was only teasing you, but with your heart almost bursting out from your ribcage, and the amount of embarrassment and butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you sighed.

“I like you too, you idiot.”

He was clad in a brown coat and scarf that you gave to him as a gift to protect himself from the cold. His hands, however, were inside his coat pockets, fidgeting the heat pack that kept his digits warm. 

When he looked at the side, he noticed your shivering figure, hands inside your coat’s pockets as well, and the tip of your nose beet-red from the cold. A smile tugged at his dry, thin lips—though it was cute seeing you like this, he can’t let you catch a cold.

Taeyong moved to your back and wrapped his arms around your waist, his warmth radiating to yours like a heater. You sighed and basked in his comfort, laying your head on his chest as he hugged you from behind.

“Happy New Year, babe.”

He said, looking down to meet your gaze—a galaxy that you considered home. His presence that made your cold, lonely holidays warm and colorful unlike what you expected, and additionally, a friend that you could confide in—whether be it in real life or virtually.

3.

  2.

  1.

 And when his lips descended on yours, the colors in the sky long forgotten, you feel safe.

Though not back home, Taeyong was and had to be, the biggest twist of your life.

#lee taeyong fluff #taeyong fluff #lee taeyong drabbles #taeyong imagines #neowritingsnet #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct taeyong #taeyong x reader #lee taeyong x reader #taeyong drabbles

[moonbeambucky]

Safe

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4878 Warnings: fluff, angst, attempted sexual assault 

Summary: The ride home turns dangerous until you find safety with an unlikely stranger.

A/N: This is my submission for @beckzorz Becca’s 1k Writing Challenge. My prompt was Public Transportation. Thank you as always to my Sam 💕 @buckyofthemyscira for beta reading! gif not mine

Routines have become a healthy part of Bucky Barnes’ life. Not to say his routines are really healthy but he tries. When Bucky’s not on a mission his day is executed the same way; get up, hit the gym, ignore Sam’s bullshit, hit the kitchen, hit the showers, ignore more of Sam’s bullshit, train a bit, hit the kitchen again, clean his guns, threaten Sam with his newly cleaned guns, attempt to learn about modern day media (What’s a mee-mee?), give up and read a book because thankfully those haven’t changed, hit the kitchen again because truthfully he loves eating and finally after getting into his final squabble with Sam he gets in bed.

Bucky doesn’t sleep though, he wants to but he can’t. He doesn’t understand how people can just lay their head on their pillow, shut their eyes and fall asleep. It seems simple and he used to be able to do it but now it would be like asking him to magically transform his metal arm back to flesh. He just can’t.

It’s frustrating. The bags under his eyes have happily settled in, Sam has reminded him over and over again that he looks like shit and even Steve has started to worry. All of these thoughts swirl in Bucky’s head, getting louder by the minute as he stares at the ceiling with eyes wide open.

Has that crack gotten bigger? Why is there a crack in the ceiling anyway? Does Stark know? Is Banner above me? Did Hulk make the crack? Will I wake up to Hulk falling through the ceiling?

Wake up. If only he could fall asleep.

After too many restless nights Bucky decided he’s heading out. He needs to get rid of this anxious energy and walking around the city seems like a good idea. He hadn’t seen much of it since, well since he’s been himself again after everything. There have been times he’s wanted to go out but the Avengers generate a lot of attention and Bucky hates the spotlight.

A dark shirt stretches across his frame and he slides his legs through the pair of jeans that were crumpled on his floor. His feet slide into well worn boots as he shrugs a leather jacket over himself. It’s warm on the streets of Manhattan, even in the middle of the night but he doesn’t mind. The leather is cool and comforting against his skin which always seems to run hot.

On Bucky’s first night out he walked a dozen miles and along the way he found a bar. It was full of people that didn’t know who he was nor did they want to know him. Bodies hunched over, deep set wrinkled mouths sag even further pulling their lips down to a tired frown. They wanted to be left alone and relatably Bucky obliges.

He ordered a drink, savoring the taste as he sat for a bit, listening to music he’s pretty familiar with thanks to Tony. Bucky had heard enough disco courtesy of Steve’s “must do” list, seeking out the sounds of heavy drums and electric guitars coming from Tony’s lab instead. Music brought them closer and although there is a long way to go before they can call each other friends at least their journey will be filled with a great soundtrack.

He walks a bit more until he reaches Lower Manhattan, looking off at the blur that was the Statue of Liberty in the far distance, barely visible through the fog. It’s late and Bucky should be getting back. He feels a bit lazy and doesn’t want to walk all the way back to the Tower.

Descending the damp stairs, Bucky heads into the subway. The turnstiles block his entry to the platform. No one is around and he could easily jump over them but he knows there are cameras and the last thing he wants is to add another charge to the list of crimes he’s committed, especially one as silly as fare evasion.

His finger presses at the screen to purchase a MetroCard that allows him to legally pass through the turnstiles. A few people are spread out across the platform, a young couple smiling at each other as the taller man wraps his arms around the shorter one.

A flash of bright blue catches his eyes from the nurse who shifts the weight of her aching feet back and forth. Despite her earbuds she glances over when the couple burst out laughing. The shorter man shushes his boyfriend playfully, and when they catch Bucky’s eye he gives a friendly smile.

Wind from the arriving train whips Bucky’s hair around which he tries to comb back into place with his fingers. There is a downside to being enhanced as Bucky gets an intense whiff of the foul smelling man passed out on the opposite end of the train.

He passes through to the next train, sniffing a few times to ensure the air quality before sitting in the corner. The ride is pleasant and somehow comforting. By the time Bucky gets back to the Tower he barely takes his clothes off before plopping face first into his bed and sleeping for a few good hours.

This routine continues each night, with Bucky riding the subway for a few hours at a time, back and forth all over Manhattan until the point where he’s lulled just enough to get some rest. Sure sleeping until noon might be a problem, especially if there’s a mission on the horizon but on the bright side he’s seeing less of Sam so this may not be a problem at all.

Moving to New York was Y/N’s dream. While submitting applications for law school she imagined herself sitting in a cafe in the heart of the city, laptop and books sprawled out on the table with a delicious cup of coffee warming her hands as she studied. When she got accepted she eagerly packed her things and couldn’t wait for her dreams to come true.

There were struggles along the way. A glitch in the system caused her to miss out on the already limited student housing and the list of affordable student rentals off campus had no availability. The small amount of money she had in savings served as a cushion for her to get a room rental.

During the day she went to school, at night she worked at a bar and every moment in between she studied until she could barely see, all while pushing the boundaries on caffeine consumption and sleep deprivation. It was worth it though she reminded herself.

She was in her last year of school and soon she’d be living in a real apartment and sleep normal hours in a bed; not facedown drooling on the desk of the library, not on the subway with her head rolling forward and jolting her awake and certainly not standing up behind the bar during work while patrons called for her attention. (She was nearly fired over that!)

Y/N no longer falls asleep on the subway, especially not when she’s headed home in the middle of the night. Sure it would be easier to take an Uber but she can’t afford the cost. Instead she sits in the corner at the end, right across from the conductor booth. Occasionally an MTA worker will pop out and either give a nod her way or ignore her completely as they go to the booth on the opposite end of the train to prepare themselves for the next stop.

Her seat is usually available at this hour which is comforting. Y/N feels safer with her back against the metal wall, with the exits right beside her as she overlooks the rest of the train. She’s on alert at all times, armed with her keys in between her knuckles, just in case.

Riding the subway during the day is a lot better. Sure it’s very crowded and sometimes she struggles to find a seat, occasionally squeezing to a spot in between manspreaders who touch her thigh, by accident. Other times she’s stuck in between a huge group of people, holding on to the pole for balance as someone else gropes her ass, not by accident.

It’s much easier to call out these perverts when the train is crowded; she feels safe. Other people have her back, just as she has theirs in similar situations; everyone working together to scream and sometimes push the pervert off the train at the next stop. Occurrences like these were definitely not part of Y/N’s dreams when she pictured living in New York, but she can’t blame her dreams for the faults of others.

Y/N walked to her preferred spot, the bright orange seat welcoming her under the yellow tinged lighting. At the opposite end of the train is someone else in the same spot. Arms crossed over a broad frame, the hood of a sweatshirt pulled down covering almost their entire face with just a peek of stubble sticking out. She places her keys between her knuckles, keeping her hand in the front pocket of her hoodie and waits for the long journey home to begin.

A few stops later two men get on the train, one is tall and slim with a shaved head and the other a bit shorter with a stocky build and a mess of dark hair. She stiffens in her seat watching as they sit diagonally to her, skipping a seat in between each other and spreading their legs out wide. The bald one leans his head back as he rubs his eyes, listening as the other one turned his head to speak.

The jagged end of the keys scratch in between her fingers as she grips them tighter, watching carefully as the one with dark hair gets up and crosses towards her, eyeing the subway map to her right. Y/N doesn’t make any eye contact with him but she still sees his frame standing there from the corner of her eye. She flinches as he shouts unexpectedly at the rough and shaky ride, swallowing a nervous lump she holds her breath until he sits back down next to his friend, except he doesn’t.

He walks to the door at the end of the train right in front of her and stares through to the next train. Is he looking for someone? Will he pass through? No. He leans against the conductor booth standing two feet away from Y/N, jutting his hips out a bit that are unfortunately at her eye level.

She ignores him, looking towards the rest of the train seeing his friend, now wide-eyed and smirking. Whatever game they’re playing Y/N wants no part of, she just wants to go home.

From the corner of Y/N’s eyes she sees the man in front of her moving his arm. Cautiously she looks, regretting what she sees. He’s rubbing himself through his jeans, eyeing her like she’s a piece of meat.

Y/N looks back to the bald man, his legs are spread even wider, with his hands down his pants. He blows a sickening kiss her way as he twists his wrist up showing the very tip of his erection at the top of his pants.

The man in front of her moans as his own hands travel inside his pants as he starts to rub himself harder.

Panic floods Y/N’s veins, rushing through like a coursing river, drowning her in fear. She’s alone. She’s alone with two men, no– two monsters, who could easily overpower her. She’s alone on this train. The conductor booths are empty, the sleeping man is still asleep and even if she called out to him would he care? Would he help or would he join this group of demons and think with his primitive, carnal brain?

It was humiliating to sit there, knowing what they were doing as she did nothing. The keys between her fingers turned to jelly. She couldn’t fight them, she couldn’t stand up for herself and she hates it. Y/N hates every minute she sits there in silence, wishing she had the help of strangers crowding around her to support the verbal lashing she would give them. Y/N hates that she has to rely on safety in numbers, that she can’t even speak up to stop this.

The train slows down as it approaches the next stop and Y/N decides she’s getting off before they do. She calms her nerves, shifting slightly in the seat so she can briskly leave the train, hoping above all that there are other people on the platform.

An automated voice informs arrival at the station and as soon as the doors open Y/N gets up without looking back.

The platform is empty, not that she expected a crowd but even one person would make her feel more at ease. She heads towards the nearest set of stairs, walking faster as she now hears voices behind her.

Y/N knows it’s them. She feels it in her gut, the sickening feeling, her stomach twisting into uneasy knots at the threat behind her. She doesn’t dare look, she can’t slow herself down in any way.

“Where’re ya going sweetheart? We just wanna talk.”

Y/N moves faster up the second set of stairs. She’ll be safe as long as she stays ahead of them. If she gets to the street she can pop into a deli or a bar, anywhere where there are people, where she’ll be safe.

“Get back here bitch!”

They stampede behind her like wild animals, chasing after their prey. Y/N’s panting, rushing up the remainder of steps, her eyes filling with hope as she sees the metal turnstiles to exit. She’s nearly there but hope is pulled away. They’ve caught up to her, one of them grabbing her leg.

Y/N collapses against the stairs, her arm stinging at the pain of how she landed but she doesn't care. Her keys clang as they drop from her hands.

They’ve got her, pulling her up by the loops of her jeans and back towards them, arms wrapping tightly around her waist. Her skin crawls as she feels the press of his hardness against her but she doesn’t stop fighting.

Her arms try to break the hold, her legs kick wildly as she’s dragged back towards the landing trying to break free. Her cheek collides with the cold tile as they slam her against the wall, holding her arms back so she couldn’t move.

They’re laughing. Y/N doesn’t need to see them to know there’s a smile spread across their faces. They’re enjoying this, enjoying her pain as she bites back a sob.

Tears burn their way to her eyes as she hears a zipper being pulled down, buzzing like a bee in her ear. She braces herself for the sting.

A cry of agony echoes in the stairwell but it’s not hers. The bald man was charged at; a stranger came towards him like a bull, fierce and focused as he speared him down. The other man behind Y/N let go of her arms, quickly pulling his pants up so he could fight.

She moves away with her back pressed against the wall watching the scene unfold like an action movie come to life.

Long, dark hair blankets the face of the man who came to her rescue, who shoves her assailant face first into the wall. Tiles shatter as he crumples to the ground unconscious.

The bald man groaned as he got up, pulling a small knife from his pants but the stranger dodges the poor attempt at an attack. Quickly he disarms the man, retrieves the knife for himself with an expert flick of his wrist, flipping the blade midair to catch it again by the hilt.

He forces the man to the wall with his left forearm, cutting off oxygen as he leans in with extra pressure.

“Think you're so tough, huh? You don't look so tough now," the long haired man snarled, threatening the man’s eye with the blade.  

He gasps for breath, begging for his life through fear laden eyes that reveal a deeper truth, he’s a coward. The long haired man knocks him out with a nose shattering punch.

The stranger takes a breath, calming his nerves that were electrified the moment he realized the girl was in trouble. She’s still behind him, he can hear the fast rhythm of her heart, the shakiness of her breathing.

He turns slowly to face her, his heart breaking at the small abrasion on her cheek. He saved her but he wasn’t fast enough, they had still hurt her.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, keeping his distance because there was no way he was going to force himself into her personal space after what happened.

Y/N was frozen against the wall, wary of the man in front of her. She should be thankful he stopped her attackers but the way he did it… he was dangerous and she’s not sure if she should trust a dangerous man.

She stares him down, her eyes following the curve of obvious muscle even through the thick sweatshirt down to his hands, one tainted red, dripping blood that is not his own, the other a dark metal.

Her brows furrow as her eyes travel upwards to his face confirming his identity. Ocean blue eyes that hold more than a lifetime of memories, good and bad, a soft smile, just a hint pulling at his bright pink lips that stand out against dark stubble.

Y/N’s eyes widen in further recognition. The man who saved her, Bucky Barnes, an actual Avenger was the sleeping man from the train.

“You…” she said, unable to articulate herself further, not when she thought about everything; what almost happened, what did happen. “You were on the train.”

Y/N glances at her superhero savior. She had seen firsthand a small glimpse of his strength and yet he stands before her looking anything but. His shoulders are slumped down, his head hangs low as sadness swims around the deep blue pools of his eyes.

Bucky was her hero but he definitely didn’t feel super.

He was on the train and he could have stopped this sooner if he hadn’t fallen asleep. Bucky’s train rides gave him enough comfort to rest when he was home but never before has he let his guard down like this and fallen asleep in a public place.

The guilt eats away at him and he lets it, offering every part of his aching soul willingly. If he was awake this wouldn’t have happened. He would have tackled these guys to the ground a lot sooner. She would have been safe.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, staring at her shamefully. “It shouldn’t have come to this.”

“Don’t.” Y/N takes a step closer to him, “You’re not responsible for what they did.” She glances briefly behind him, checking that the men were still knocked out. “Thank you Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky smiled softly, “It’s Bucky, and you’re welcome...” he quirked his head, wordlessly asking for her name. “You’re safe now Y/N,” he promised.

Pulling his phone out Bucky places a call, following protocol in the event an Avenger was involved in a civilian altercation. He panics when he turns around not seeing Y/N anywhere until she reappears, taking slow, measured steps down the stairs, still wary of the men on the ground.

“My keys,” she said, holding them up to him; a simple explanation as she had gone to retrieve them but the thought of her disappearing still worried him. Sure there were statements to give but Bucky cared more about her state of mind, knowing this type of situation can have a long lasting impact.

Bucky explained SHIELD would be coming to process the scene, assuring her things would be handled more efficiently than the NYPD.

“You’ll just need to give your statement once and everything will be handled. Pressing charges and all of that… it’s a lot easier ‘cause I got involved.”

The words leave a bitter taste on Bucky’s tongue; the fact that Y/N would get justice easily only because of his involvement. She won’t have to worry about being questioned as to why this happened, as if anything she did or the clothes she wore would ever be justification for this to happen. It’s not, not to her or anyone.

SHIELD arrives quickly after, beginning to take photographs before they handcuff the men. Bucky doesn’t leave Y/N’s side as she details the full encounter, his stomach twisting at what those sick fucks did all while he was asleep. He bites his tongue, swallowing his anger. This isn’t about him.

Incredibly things have cleaned up quickly, the only evidence of anything happening was the cracked subway tile. An agent approaches Y/N asking if she would like a ride home. She wants to trust them but she can’t bring herself to.

Bucky sees the apprehension in her eyes. “If it’s alright with Y/N,” he began, looking at her so she understood he knew what she was thinking, “I’d like to personally make sure that she gets home safely.”

Y/N nodded as she looked between the Agent and Bucky, her lips pulling in the faintest smile as she stared at the man she felt safest with.

They were alone again, standing in the silence of the stairwell. Y/N doesn’t know what to say. Bucky’s supposed to be taking her home but the thought of being alone terrifies her. Sure she has roommates and everyone is friendly with each other but they aren’t really friends. They’re not the type you wake up in the middle of the night to tell about your assault on the train and rescue by an Avenger.

Actually they might think the last part is pretty cool but Y/N would much rather be saved by an Avenger for something mundane. The Falcon could save her from a wild cyclist or maybe Iron Man could scan her yogurt and prevent her from eating it past the expiration date, or Bucky… Well, she can’t lie to herself, it’s definitely nice being around him, even if the circumstances were awful.

“I don’t want to go home,” she finally blurted out, her words echoing throughout the empty stairwell.

Bucky understands. He’s had seventy years of suffering he’s still dealing with, the reason for even being out in the middle of the night. He hates knowing sleep will escape her too, that she will beg her brain to turn off but instead it will force her to relieve the trauma.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, happy to see her nodding without hesitation.

They ascend to the street, feeling the cool wind refreshing their skin. The sky is just beginning to lighten, with the darkest, deepest blues retreating, breaking away to give the smallest hint of an orange glow in the distance.

Together they walk silently, with Y/N leaning close to Bucky, bumping into him every now and then but he doesn’t mind; she needs to feel him beside her and he kind of likes it.

“Where were you coming from?” he asked, breaking the silence.

She explained her schedule of school and work, and Bucky wonders if he’s ever been in her bar during one of his midnight strolls. He doubts it, he would have remembered her. He thinks to himself that taking the trains in the middle of the night isn’t safe. No shit Barnes, look at what happened. Instead he asks if she considered taking a taxi home.

“I wish!” she laughed. “They’re too expensive, even Uber. I’m struggling enough as it is.”

Money is a luxury Bucky hasn’t had to think about. Sure when he was younger he started working to help his folks, taking a newspaper route with Steve, working twice as hard that winter when his friend was stuck in the house with pneumonia. Now he doesn’t worry about anything. He has a home, two homes technically, not that he’s been to the compound in a while. Food is always stocked in the fridge and he’s never worried about it running out. Money is just available to him if he needs to buy clothes or the childhood candies he likes to occasionally treat himself to.

Bucky apologizes but Y/N ensures him there’s nothing to apologize for. He may live a luxurious life now but she would not trade her path for his.

A small bodega is the only store open for blocks so they stop in, greeted by a grey and white cat sleeping across the newspaper rack. Colorful packages of candy and chips surround the register, the junk food seems very tempting but before she can pick something out Bucky confirms if it’s alright to place an order for coffee and sandwiches. He pays but can’t leave until the man behind the counter takes a picture with him, excited to have a real “Vengador” visit his store.

They walk two more quick blocks until they reach Battery Park, strolling through the paths until they find the perfect bench to sit on. The coffee is still nice and hot, and the bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches are possibly the greatest thing they’ve ever eaten. A much better choice than the junk she would have chosen.

Napkins sop up the gooey cheesy from the corner of her mouth as Y/N makes conversation. “What were you doing on the train anyway?”

Bucky swallows a mouthful. “Helps me sleep,” he answered, looking at her with big, innocent eyes.

“Like a baby? In a car?”

Bucky nods, “Yeah, somethin’ like that.” He felt embarrassed until he saw a genuine smile pulling at Y/N’s lips as she brought the coffee to her lips.

“When do you finish school?” he asked, wanting to know more about her.

“I’m in my last year, then it’s study for the Bar, hope I pass and then I won’t need to risk my life every night on the subway. I’ll just go back to the daytime groping.”

Bucky stops himself from taking a bite, putting his sandwich back down on the paper in his lap. He shifts himself to turn towards Y/N, “You shouldn’t have to deal with that. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. Not everyone is as kind as you, then again you’re from a different time.”

Bucky shakes his head. “The time has nothing to do with it, pigs will be pigs. During the war my sister Rebecca went to work. She wrote to me saying how she had to quit because her boss was putting his hands on her. That’s what they taught her back then. Well I’ll tell you, Becca didn’t quit without sockin’ him right in the eye!”

Y/N likes the way Bucky’s face lights up like the sun while reminiscing about his sister. Bucky likes the way she laughs at his story, how a smile suits her face so much more than the anguish he first saw on her.

“It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay after this.” His eyes are determined in that truth and Y/N smiles, wanting to believe him.

They finish their food and sip coffee as people pass them by to jog along the water. Despite the caffeine Y/N covers her mouth as she yawns but Bucky is wide awake, thanks to the coffee and the early morning ass kicking. He supposes she’ll need to go home soon but the thought that she’ll have to repeat this subway routine again tonight makes him uneasy.

“I wouldn’t mind making sure you get home safe every night,” he said, breaking the soft silence between them. “Since I’m up anyway.”

Her lips pull to a short lived smile. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. As long as I’m here, not on a mission or something, I really don’t mind.” Bucky smiled sincerely, and Y/N saw nothing but truth in his sweet blue eyes. “We could take the train… together?” he suggested, “or I could drive you home.”

Y/N chewed on her lip as she examined the hopeful look on Bucky’s face, patiently waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know… Should I really trust a sleep deprived old man?”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open at her words as she graced his ears with the sweet sound of her laughter. Still, he shook his head in disbelief.

“That’s… that was cold. You been talking to Falcon behind my back or something?” he joked.

“Fine, I will accept your offer of driving.” Y/N yawns again, leaning her head against Bucky’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll be taking public transportation at night for a while.”

He’s happy, not that she is avoiding the subway because it shouldn’t have to come to that but because he knows she’ll be getting home safe each night with him.

“Where do you live anyway?” Bucky questioned. “I should have asked this before offering. Hope I haven’t committed myself to driving to Jersey or something,” he scoffed jokingly.

“Brooklyn.”

Bucky smiles, his heart swells like a balloon and he feels like he needs to grip the bench so he doesn’t float away.

“Brooklyn it is.”

They sit for a while longer, putting the long night behind them as the sun rises on a new day.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated :)

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#beccas1kwritingchallenge #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot

[nonstoplover]

Suffering from separation ~ Tom Hiddleston

masterlist

Summary: after a long time spent apart from each other, (Y/N) and Tom can’t wait to see each other again, and when they finally do, events swiftly turn only to make it one of the happiest days of their lives...

Words: 1.7K

Approximate reading time: about 10 mins

A/N: i first wrote this at age 14, quite literally ages ago lmao, with a terrible english (due to only learning english from age 9). luckily i’ve improved since then and after remembering it just today i was able to rewrite it now. i actually still love this idea a lot haha. let me know what you think and as usual, hope you enjoy <3

It's what they call a normal, cold and rainy October day. Water’s falling from the sky nonstop since I woke up in the morning, but even that can’t dampen my excitement. Today’s the day my boyfriend comes home after five weeks of being apart due to his job, shooting a new movie again.

It’s the first time we spent such a long time separated, I usually go with him and spend the time on set, sitting in his trailer working away on my laptop, thanking the heavens for choosing a job I can do whenever and wherever I want to.

Though this time my brother’s wedding is coming up and I offered my help in the last minute arrangements, meaning that I’m not able to spend several weeks away from home, since my much needed help could only be used here, with my personal, live assistance instead of a few advice spoken through a screen.

Slowly the day turns into night, even the swift passing of time unable to stop the rain falling down, and I’m moving around the kitchen making the final touches of dinner, cutting up some salad whilst listening to the raindrops jingle on the windowsill, when out of nowhere I hear the sound of a car engine growing louder through the dash of rain before a flash of lights beam in through the kitchen window, making me go blind for a couple seconds.

The car stops in our driveway, and after winning my sight back I’m able to outline the familiar silhouette that’s stepping out from the vehicle. A sudden burst of happiness makes me forget everything else, legs already moving to run towards the door, and as soon as it was opened, I rushed out towards my boyfriend.

He’s on the other side of the car now to grab his bags, and when I get in a reachable distance to him, I launch myself right into his arms. Tom takes a step back, trying to keep his balance, one arm instinctively wrapping around by waist to keep me steady whilst the other still clutches the bag.

He lets out a surprised chuckle, holding me tightly to his body for a moment before leaning back so he could look into my eyes.

“(Y/N), darlin’, are you crazy? What are you doing out here without a coat?” he asks, voice gentle and caring, a lovely smile splattered across his face as his eyes move down my body, soon coming to a new discovery, speaking up once more. “...and without a shoe?” 

I almost faint from alone the sound of his voice, only hearing it through smart devices, distorted just a tiny bit but still enough to make it sound differently building such a huge contrast with the way it rolled out his mouth live.

I follow his gaze down towards my feet, only noticing it now that I did in fact run out into the rain in nothing but a pair of socks. 

"I just missed you so much,” I answer, cheeks flushing pink from the slight embarrassment I’m feeling.

“Oh, love, I missed you too,” Tom says instantly, leaning in to press a soft kiss against my lips.

It feels too good to be real, waiting so much for it, trying to imagine feeling his mouth against mine in growing anticipation only making the real sensation a hundred times better.

“I love you,” he whispers, the skin of our lips still touching, before he moves and starts taking the remaining steps left until we’re back inside the dry warmth of our house, my legs still around his middle, his hand still holding me up carefully.

"Let me down, I can walk,” I giggle as he continues to walk.

“Nope, I don't want you to get ill.” Tom answers just as we enter the house.

He still doesn’t stop, I can feel his legs move to kick his shoes off before continueing his way further inside. Arriving in the living room, he gently places me down on the couch before moving to put his bags down from his other hand.

He shrugs his jacket down from his shoulders, putting it around the back of a chair as I sit up still giggling, watching him in adoration. As soon as he’s finished, Tom comes back to sit next to me, immediately leaning in to kiss me passionately. Without a moment of hesitation I kiss him back, and as his hands slowly make their way around my back, fingers caressing me through the material of his old T-shirt I’m wearing, I feel complete again.

I feel content and fulfilled with love, making me realise how lonely I actually was in the past weeks, and I cling into him like I’d never let him go again. And a part of me wants to do just that.

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

After dinner, the two of us stroll back to the living room, having decided to watch a movie, though still not knowing which one. I’m sitting on the couch, legs pulled up and crossed in front of me, heels digging into the fabric as I'n still looking for a romantic comedy that sounds interesting and good on an online list.

When I finally find something probable, I glance up to ask Tom about it. I haven’t noticed him moving up from his previous sitting position on the sofa next to me, eyes immediately go to search around the room to find him.

It doesn’t take much time to do so, catching sight of him kneeling on the ground just besides the couch, in front of my legs. I’m just about to open my mouth and ask him what he’s doing when he starts speaking, preventing me by a millisecond.

“(Y/N), I have to tell you something.”

From this one sentence I can hear the sudden thickness of his accent, signalling that he’s nervous, and I wait a bit impatiently for him to continue, but he seems unable to find the right words. When his eyes that are frantically moving around finally land on mine for a moment, I shine a reassuring smile his way to calm his nerves. It seems to help because after clearing his throat, his lips open again.

“When we were apart, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were stuck in my mind 24/7. And I was suffering. Honestly, truly suffering. ‘Cause I couldn't see your beautiful face, touch your wonderfully soft and deliciously scented hair, taste your luscious lips, hear your lovely voice. ‘Cause I couldn’t be with you. It felt so wrong, so unnatural. And every time I heard your voice through the phone, this feeling only grew stronger. In the end I came to the realisation that it’s because you’re the one for me. You’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, you’re the one I want to feel next to me every time I wake up. And you’re the woman I want to have kids with, if you too want to have one or two in the future,” his voice trails off for a moment, a grin on his face as his eyes seem to travel to a different place in a different time, seeming like he’s already picturing the scenes he painted with his words before he focuses on me once more, lips opening once more to finish his speech. “My beautiful, one and only love, my dearest (Y/N), will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

His eyes are full of love as he’s staring at me patiently, I can see that even through the blurriness of my eyes caused by the wave of teardrops that are coming nonstop almost since he started speaking in the first place.

I’m breathless, unable to speak so I simply move my head in frantic nods to answer his question. Tom’s smile grows even bigger if that’s possible, splitting his face in half as he raises his right hand only a slight bit.

It’s enough for me to catch sight of the box in between his fingers, showing off a gorgeous ring sitting inside. As my eyes take in the beauty, the words that seemed missing only a couple seconds ago come to my lips, leaving them without a stop.

“Oh my goodness, Tom! This ring is... wonderful!” I exclaim, one hand flying up to cover my mouth as my jaw dropped down, leaving it wide open. “I can't believe this is truly happening.”

Another sob escapes my lips and I chuckle from the strange emotionality that took over me, Tom laughing away with me.

“What, you’re gonna leave it in there?” He asks with a teasing tone after a few seconds, the fingers of his free hand moving to wrap around the jewellery, pulling it out of the box. I move a hand towards him almost in an instinct, watching in awe as he pushes it up my ring finger, the coolness of it touching my warm skin delicately.

When he finishes his action, Tom leans in to hug me tight against his chest, lips searching for mine only to kiss me like he’ll never stop. And in the moment both of us know that we never want to be apart again, never want to feel this suffering again, expressing our thoughts and feelings only through our actions, no words spoken.

We spend the rest of the night watching a movie we eventually come to choose, but neither of us truly pay attention to it, either deep in thought of the joyful future we have ahead of us or talking about anything and everything that comes to our minds.

Still, one thought seems to come back every other second, not leaving me for the remainder of the rainy October day, always filling me up with joy when thinking about it.

Everything feels just like living in a dream. I’ve found my Prince Charming, and though it feels like I couldn’t get any happier no matter what, something, some kind of strange gut feeling tells me that it’s only going to get happier from today.

.::the end::.

my masterlist

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddlestion fanfiction #the night manager #loki #loki odinson #thor movies #avengers #kong #high-rise #i saw the light #midnight in paris #the deep blue sea #miss austen regrets #tom h #hiddleston #hiddlesarmy #kong: skull island

[rainbowshawn]

Little Things

A/N: hey!! this is my first time writing so feedback is welcome and encouraged! something quick and easy, hope y’all enjoy 💓

Summary: After a hard day, Shawn knows just what to do to cheer you up. It’s the little things.

Warnings: None. Just fluff and unrevised writing :)

________________________________________

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that you were stressed. Work had been a nightmare, to say the least and you were way past ready to get home. A hefty sigh evaded your chest as you twisted the key to open the front door to your shared apartment. Thoughts of the past week went through your mind as you kicked your shoes off your sore feet.

“Is that my girl I hear?” chimed your boyfriend’s voice from somewhere in the apartment that you couldn’t quite place.

You could only grunt in response, your tiredness taking over quickly once you stepped into your cozy home. You slowly meandered towards your living room, smiling softly at the sight before you. Shawn was propped up on the big white couch with his back facing you; legs spread out under his favorite fluffy blanket. He was fully concentrated on whatever occupied the screen of his laptop and you took this opportunity to sneak up behind him, rubbing your hands across his sturdy chest as you leaned down to press your face to his warm neck. He lets out a soft hum of contentment when he feels your soft breath dance across his skin.

“Hi, my love” he murmured, craning his head back to give you better access to dress his neck in kisses.

You hummed in response, trying to occupy your mind with your work on his soft skin.

“How was your day, honey?”

The mention of your day caused you to immediately tense and you straightened back up.

“It was fine.” you sighed, walking into the kitchen hoping he wouldn’t push the topic any further.

You hoped your tone hadn’t given away that your day was anything less than spectacular. You didn’t want to stress him out with any more than he already had to deal with himself. Between prep for tour, writing, and recording, you were sure he had much bigger things to worry about than your rough week. You knew that didn’t stop him from caring, though. He was always thoughtful, despite anything he was preoccupied with. It amazed you, really. How someone could be so patient with those he loved, with all the things on his plate. The man was the definition of empathetic.

“Mmmm somehow I don’t believe you.” he softly pressed. He shifted to set his laptop on the table in front of him, turning to face you.

“It was okay, just busy. I’m alright.”

He sent you a small frown, accompanied by those soft, honey eyes you love so much. He titled his head thoughtfully, squinting his eyes at you. You avoided his gaze trying to occupy yourself by looking for a snack in the fridge. Your search proved to be pointless as neither of you had the time to run to the grocery store this week. You softly closed the door and rubbed your sore neck, as if to soothe your worries.

“c’mere” Shawn said softly, but sternly. You figured he wasn’t going to take your half-hearted answer. You softly prod over to where he set up camp in the dim room. You observe his mess of papers adorning the coffee table which reminds you of all he has on his mind as well. His hands find your hips as you stand between his legs. He rests his chin on your stomach, looking up at you with those soft eyes as your hands take purchase in his curly hair. He smiles at you as he tugs your body down into his lap.

He pressed gentle kisses to your lips, whispering, “missed you,” between soft pecks. He rested his forehead on yours as he trailed his hands soothingly up and down your tense back, while yours were still busy in his hair. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding once you felt his loving embrace.

“Wanna talk about it?” he continued. You grumbled knowing he wasn’t going to let go of his concern until you at least addressed it a little bit.

“Not particularly. Just had a lot to do and not a lot of time. And just little things throughout the day,” you explained, quietly “just feeling a bit overwhelmed. But it’s over now.”

He frowned, “Okay, darling, I won’t press. You know you can talk to me whenever you need to right?” he paused and waited to see you nod your head in response.

“Anything I can do to help? I don’t like seeing you stressed. Let me fix it.” he said while he peppered more little kisses to your cheeks, hoping you could feel all his love. You could. You always could.

You smiled lovingly at the gesture, but shook your head.

“No. Just being here is enough. Your presence alone makes me feel a million times better.” you said. And it was true. Somehow Shawn made everything feel okay, regardless of if it was or not. You always brought each other peace. Finding little ways to keep the other at ease.

Pulling back a little, you cupped his cheek and he nuzzled his face further into your hand, keeping his puppy eyes on you. You took in his appearance now, noticing how sleepy he looked. Your heart softened immediately; your mind instantly forgetting everything that had happened that day. Your focus shifted to the soft boy in your hands.

“‘nuff about me. How was your day, mister?” you smiled, tilting your head.

“It was good. I got a lot of stuff done, actually. Worked on some paperwork Andrew needed from me, finalized some stuff for the studio with Geoff,” he trailed “I’m so excited to show you.”

“I’m excited to hear.” you chirped, perking up.

It always amazes you; how much he can handle. It seems to come so easy to him, but you know otherwise. You couldn’t begin to count how many times you’ve seen the stress of his lifestyle eat at him. He doesn’t like to seem weak so he frequently works himself to the bone. This combination inherently and eventually results in some breakdowns. Him softly crying in your arms while you do your best to soothe him and talk him through the darkness.

You suppose that you two balance each other out in that way. Always there to comfort the other. No matter what. You loved him most like that. Vulnerable and open to your love. He became so soft and needy, soaking up every bit of affection he could. He never minded returning the favor.

“How bout I make you some hot chocolate and we forget about that bad day, hm?” he inquired while he brushed some stray hairs from your face. “We can watch some of that new show you were talking about. I know you’ve been itching to start it.”

“Sounds perfect” you whispered, smiling. The mention of hot chocolate instantly lifting your spirits.

He helped you get up from his lap once he got up to go into the kitchen. He quickly made you a cup exactly how you liked it. Extra marshmallows topped off with some whipped cream. He paid extra attention to put it in your favorite mug. The dusty pink cup was placed gently into your hands moments later and you smiled at the ‘you’re my person’ printed in gold across the ceramic. Shawn had given it to you as a surprise gift one day, after he was out with some of his friends, knowing your mutual obsession with Grey’s Anatomy. No special reason other than it made him think of you. He shrugged off his friends giggles and comments about him going ‘soft’ knowing he’d get to see your smile that he loved so much once he brought it home to you.

“You did that on purpose, huh?” you jokingly accused, gesturing your head to the cup in your hands.

“Maybe I did,” he sweetly smirked “what of it?”

“You’re sweet, bubba.”

You took a small sip, wincing as the hot liquid touched your tongue. You moved forward and set the steaming mug down on the table, taking care to set it on a coaster away from his papers. You felt him shift next to you as he stripped himself of his hoodie. The second you relaxed back into the couch he shoved his hoodie into your hands.

You shot him a questioning look, but took in his shirtless form regardless. He just giggled in response and chuckled, “Go ahead. Get cozy, honey.” nuzzling himself back into the couch behind you. You decide to not question it, and tug the warm hoodie onto your body, immediately feeling calmer once the warmth and his scent filled your senses. He wiggled his raised hands once you finally looked back at him, gesturing you towards his chest. You made yourself comfortable on his bare chest and pulled his blanket over the two of you. His hand made its way to your back as you nuzzled into his neck, rubbing softly. He grabbed the remote with his other hand and clicked around on Netflix, you two falling easily into a conversation while you searched for that show he mentioned. Once you found it and decided that that was what you wanted, he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead before turning his attention back to the intro that was now rolling on the screen.

You didn’t always have it together, but these slow, easy moments with shawn made it all better. Really, it’s the little things. Somehow his small gestures made you forget your issues in the blink of an eye. You loved your love. It was easy and tender. It was patient and kind, and never did it ever feel like you were alone. Shawn would spend his whole life making sure of that.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #masterlist

[gotemsayingw0w]

It started as an innocuous statement. She might as well have been telling him about the weather or the grocery list. As Tohru Honda sat at the chabudai table early one Fall Sunday morning, bent over her computer screen furiously reading its contents, she turned to her boyfriend, Kyo, and said "I think we should probably get married soon."

Kyo Sohma chuckled into his cup of coffee. "Okay," He responded. "Let me know when you have some free time and I'll try to pencil you in." He assumed she was joking given the glib manner in which she had made the comment.

Tohru nodded, still entirely focused on the computer screen. "Yeah…maybe later this week..." Her voice trailed off. "I don't think either of us have to work on Thursday."

Kyo turned his whole body towards her, but she didn't look up from the screen. Her lips were pursed, a delicate finger pressed to her chin. In the reflection of her reading glasses he saw her scrolling through an endless page of dense text. He watched her for a minute, both waiting to see if she would continue her comments and to appreciate just how adorable she looked right in that moment. Occasionally, she stopped scrolling and mouthed the words on the screen, following along to the important information she gleaned from whatever text she was reading.

"You want to get married," Kyo summarized. "On Thursday. When we have the day off."

She nodded vaguely and mumbled "Did you have something else you wanted to do on Thursday?" Finally, she stopped scrolling entirely and pressed her finger to the screen. "Aha! Found it."

His curiosity got the best of him and he sidled around to her side of the table, gently nudging her over with his knee. On the screen was information about requirements for applying for a loan. Scanning the page further, the information specifically covered how one could apply for a housing loan in their ward of the country. Tohru grabbed a notebook from the floor next to her and jotted down the information on the screen.

"You want to get married on Thursday and then what?" Kyo asked. "Buy a house on Friday?"

"No, I think it takes much longer for the paperwork to process," Tohru responded, finishing her notes and closing the laptop. "The house would probably have to wait until the summer at least." She pulled off her reading glasses and neatly folded them on top of her notebook. "What do you think?"

Kyo just raised his eyebrows and smirked. He had no idea how to respond, seeing as his girlfriend had just quickly whipped together their future plans within the span of a few short minutes. It wasn't the first time, of course, that they'd talked about marriage or buying a home. It was just the first time anything had been said in such a conclusive manner.

They were true adults now in the eyes of the law. Their ward of the country asserted that both eligible parties must be at least 20 before applying to be married lest they have the approval of their parents. And seeing as Tohru's parents were dead and Kyo's only biological parent would rather see him dead, they didn't have the luxury of asking permission.

The assumption was that marriage was on the horizon, but neither of them were really in any hurry. Their lifestyle was essentially that of a married couple, especially now that they were living together far from home. They both worked full time, both were contributing members of society. Marriage would come one day soon, certainly, but no one was rushing it.

In fact, both Kyo and Tohru asserted on their last visit home that they'd like to be settled in a home of their own before getting married or even thinking about children. It may have been unconventional, but they were determined to save enough money to buy a permanent residence in their new, coastal town.

Three years ago they moved away, nearly five hours from where they both grew up. Kyo was working as a martial arts instructor at a local dojo, owned by a dear friend of Kazuma's, and Tohru initially worked at an elementary school before taking over as the dojo's scheduling and billing consultant. While initially they lived with Kazuma's friend, Takahashi, they scrounged up enough money after three months to move into a glorified shoebox.

Their apartment was small, but it was their home. The single bedroom meant that they couldn't have guests as often as Tohru would have liked (much to Kyo's delight). The kitchen had just enough counter space to hold a rice cooker or chop vegetables, but certainly not both. The main area served as a living room, dining room, guest room, and craft room. It was cheap and it was functional, but more than anything it was theirs. From the shrine in the bedroom to the immaculate kitchen to the photographs of them and their friends on the wall, they had made this shoebox their home and, in the process, saved as much as they could of their wages.

In truth, they could have afforded a bigger apartment. They maybe even could have afforded to buy a small house when they first moved here, given the Sohma family's strange and gratuitous allowance awarded to the Zodiacs (even the cat didn't have to be forgotten financially). But that money was in an account neither Kyo or Tohru wished to touch. They never talked about what they'd use it for, though Kyo had it in his head that he wanted to save it for his future children, but they both wanted to save their own money and put it towards their future. It meant working a lot and living a frugal lifestyle, but it was all theirs.

Tohru was the one in their relationship who budgeted and handled bills. Kyo knew the very basics of finances, but Tohru, who was running the finances in the Honda household by the time she was in middle school, seemed to enjoy it. And she was good at it. Once Yuki taught her how to use a computer to pay all of her bills and track their expenses, she became an amateur accountant. She was meticulous and methodical, carefully keeping tabs on every receipt, every bank account balance, and every bill that was due.

As their savings grew, Tohru and Kyo began informally looking for a home to buy. It wasn't a very serious search, they simply went for walks around the neighborhood pointing out houses for sale and debating what they wanted in a home. Yuki had also sent Tohru a real estate website where she could look at local listings and compare the average prices with her budget. It was April now, and, since January, Tohru had been actively researching homes and the home-buying process.

But now her gears had shifted. They had decided to buy the house first and then worry about marriage, children, and the rest of their lives. Curious as to what changed, Kyo asked her about her shift in mindset.

"When I was at the bank on Friday, the teller was asking about you," Tohru explained. They'd grown quite fond of the local store personnel in their new town and Tohru was always making friends wherever she went. "He said that it is a great time to buy a home, but we'd have an even better chance of getting a good loan if we're married."

"Sounds kind of ridiculous," Kyo commented.

Tohru nodded. "That's what I thought, but when I started looking at loan applications online and doing my research, he's right. Joint household accounts are more likely to get a better rate.

"So then I started looking into getting married and it's really not a lengthy process. It would take us maybe two hours maximum to do it and then, after a few weeks, we could look for a house and apply for a loan." Kyo nodded, taking this all in. "Plus, with our lease ending this summer, it's a good time."

Kyo pondered this new information and tried not to laugh. It was so like her to view something as serious as marriage in such a practical light. She was never extravagant, nor did she like to be the center of attention. In her mind, they were essentially already married, the only thing that was missing was some paperwork and his last name.

Kyo didn't romanticize the idea of a wedding either, really. It seemed like an expensive excuse to wear clothes he hated and be around his family. The only thing about marriage that really mattered to him was Tohru. It was the idea that Tohru Honda could become Tohru Sohma, declaring to the government and everyone else that she was truly his. And for her to wear a ring on her finger so that there would be no doubt.

But he also knew that while it may have been their marriage, it wasn't entirely about them. He would never hear the end of it if they got married at the municipal office without telling Uotani or Hanajima. He knew that, while Shishou would never say anything, it would mean the world for him to be there. And, one day, Tohru may look back and wish that they'd done something special, even if it wasn't traditional.

"Do you really just want to fill out the paperwork and that's it?" Kyo asked. "No ceremony, no ring, nothing?"

She pondered this, once again adorably pressing her finger to her lips. "Well, I think I'd probably like a simple ring," she said. "But I'm not sure about the rest. Having a traditional ceremony is so expensive and I'd really hate to inconvenience everyone with such a long, drawn out process."

Kyo chose not to address the fact that, if they did have a traditional wedding, the entire Sohma family would be over the moon rather than 'inconvenienced.' "But what about Uotani and Hanajima? What about the rat and Shishou?" Kyo asked. "You don't want them there?"

Tohru frowned and it was clear to him that this thought hadn't crossed her mind. "I guess Uo-chan and Hana-chan would be pretty upset if I got married and didn't tell them…"

"Yeah, they'd probably try to kill me," Kyo chuckled, imagining Uotani's blind yankee rage. "Plus, think about how upset Ayame and Mine will be if they can't make you a dress or furisode." Her brow furrowed as his words sank in. "Aaaaand think about our future children one day. They'll be so disappointed when they hear that all their parents did to get married was ask a government official nicely."

Tohru nodded and said, "You're right, you're right. I didn't think about all of those things."

"So…" he said, waiting for her to decide on an alternative plan.

She raised her eyes towards the ceiling and thought for a minute, before turning to him, a gleam in her eye, as she said "I have an idea."

"This is the most pitiful wedding I've ever seen." Fanning her face with a stack of pamphlets, Arisa Uotani sat slumped in a plastic chair in the local municipal office.

"It is...fairly grim," replied Yuki Sohma, equally uncomfortable in the stifling heat.

"Would the two of you please shut up?" Kyo asked. He wasn't happy about it either. The tiny office where the three of them were currently stuffed was humid, a sheen of condensation glistening on the window, nearly blinding him as the late afternoon sunlight poured into the room.

A month ago he had suggested inviting the two of them. What an idiot he was. He should have taken Tohru's idea and ran with it. Two hours, some signatures, and absolutely no family or friends at their wedding? Thinking about it now, it was the absolute dream.

"I'm just saying, you at least could have added some nice, romantic touches," Arisa insisted. "Flowers, maybe? A tuxedo?"

"How about a bride?" Yuki added, chortling to himself.

"I'm here, I'm here!" Tohru shouted, running into the room with Hanajima and Kazuma behind her. Kyo tried to ignore just how close the damn psychic was standing to Shishou as he rose to greet them.

"Tohru, please tell me this is a joke, right?" Arisa asked though she looked pointedly at Kyo as she spoke.

"We've been over this, Yankee," Kyo said, through gritted teeth. He grabbed Tohru's hand as she sat down in the chair beside his.

"Really, Uo-chan," Tohru insisted, grabbing her friend's wrist with her free hand. "This is what I wanted."

"It's lovely, Tohru-kun," said Kazuma. And even though Kyo could tell he was being dishonest, he appreciated the sentiment. He stole one more glare at the Yankee before turning around.

"Did you remember everything to bring?" Kyo asked, his tone softening as he spoke with Tohru.

She held up the large shoulder bag as proof. "I didn't forget a single thing," she responded, her smile sweet. "Did you bring everything you needed?"

He responded by holding up his ratty gym bag and she giggled. They waited a few more minutes before the marriage registrar joined them. They'd met with Daisuke a few weeks ago to go over what they wanted. He winked as he walked into the tiny office.

"Hello there," He responded, greeting the room. "Thank you all for coming, but we'll need the room for a few minutes before we're ready for you. There is a lovely balcony just outside the backdoor. How about you wait for me there?"

Arisa and the rat grumbled, but obliged. Kazuma, who had been let in on the plan last week, turned to Kyo and Tohru, his eyes already wet. "See you in a few minutes," he said, before ushering the rest of them through the door.

Daisuke sat at his desk and smiled warmly at Kyo and Tohru. "Okay, you two. Do you have all of your paperwork?"

Tohru pulled a pink file folder out of her bag. Inside was both of their birth certificates, signed marriage contracts, and her letter of intent to change her name. She handed everything to Daisuke and he gave her a new ID card with the family name Sohma listed where it used to say Honda.

"You know," Kyo said, a wicked grin on his face. "We can just leave now and never see the rest of them again." Tohru frowned at him in response and he said "Okay, okay, sorry. Just checking to see if you were coming around to my idea. Clearly the answer is no."

"If you leave that means I will have to take care of your friends," Daisuke reminded him. "Everyone vetoed that idea last week."

Kyo groaned, but nodded. "Fine," he said, though the sarcasm dripping in his tone was clearly forced. "I'll go change. But just know you had the option."

Tohru narrowed her eyes at him, but he waved her off. He grabbed his gym bag and went into the hall to the bathroom. Once the door closed, Tohru reached into her back and grabbed the wrapped box she had prepared for Kyo. "You'll hold on to this for after, right?" She asked. Daisuke tucked in under his desk and nodded. Tohru grinned and rose to go to the bathroom to change. "I'll see you in the lobby!"

Out on the back balcony, five individuals sat facing the ocean in the rapidly dimming autumn sunlight. Arisa and Saki sat together on one bench with Kazuma and Yuki sitting together on the other.

Arisa's patience was rapidly depleting. She blew a few loose strands of hair off of her face before saying "You know, if they make us wait any damn longer, we're all gonna be sitting here in the dark."

Daisuke joined them on the balcony. "They're coming, I promise. Kazuma-dono, you can go ahead inside."

Arisa grumbled under her breath "dammit, why does he get to go inside? The three former classmates sat outside, not talking, but each waiting as patiently as they possibly could. For Saki and Yuki, that meant slight fidgeting. For Arisa it meant continued cursing.

After a minute, Kyo joined them outside. He came and stood next to Daisuke, smirking at three of the closest friends he's ever had (God, that's bleak, he thought) and their vaguely annoyed faces. "You guys better fuckin' smile, it's a happy day."

They stared at him, dumbfounded, and under their scrutiny, Kyo strongly resisted the urge to loosen his tie or untuck his shirt. As they continued to stare, clearly shocked he was wearing a suit and even more shocked that he was grinning ear to ear.

"Damn," Yuki said, clearly the most shocked out of the three of them. "You actually look...decent." Arisa and Saki nodded. "Who knew you would ever wear a tie after graduation?"

"Last time it's ever fuckin' happening," Kyo insisted.

"What about for any of our weddings, jackass?" Asked Arisa.

"I'm sending Tohru as my proxy," he replied with a smirk. "Now would you shut the hell up? She's comin' out soon."

As he said those words, the door to the municipal office opened and Tohru emerged wearing a Western-style white dress. It wasn't extravagant, but its silhouette hugged tightly to her chest and flared out with a tulle skirt just above her knees. Her hair, presumably curled by her beloved Hana-chan earlier in the day, was held in a loose updo by a gold hair clip that had belonged to her mother. When she had called Ayame and Mine to ask if they had anything in storage they could send her to wear, a week later a package with Kyo's black suit and Tohru's handmade custom dress arrived on their doorstep. Tohru cried the moment she opened it and Kyo actually teared up a bit, too.

But it was nothing compared to either of their crying now. The second she stepped out onto the small, concrete portico, and caught his eye, she started weeping. Shishou, standing at her left, handed her a tissue he'd been holding in his robe. He was crying, too. And seeing the both of them, tears openly flowing, made Kyo lose it as well. He couldn't help it as a tear rolled down his cheek, hitting the lapel of his blazer. Followed by another and another. And the second she came to stand next to him, they both were a snotty, weepy mess.

Shishou returned to his seat next to Yuki, and Yuki, knowingly, put his hand on Kazuma's forearm.

As the sun set, casting deep pinks and bright oranges through the clouds above them, Kyo Sohma and Tohru Honda exchanged their wedding vows. They held tightly to each other's hands the entire time, not even bothering to look at Daisuke or their meager audience as they repeated the traditional Shinto vows wearing Western clothing. They exchanged simple, matching gold wedding bands, giggled as they heard sobs from their friends, and laughed through their tears when Yuki offered Kazuma the sleeve of his shirt to cry into.

And ten minutes after they walked outside, they swore to one another that they would be together until the end of time. Always supportive. Always patient. Always respectful. Always in love.

"Yes, I promise." Chikaimasu.

They entertained Kazuma's idea of having dinner altogether at a local restaurant. Before leaving, in the brief moment they had alone, Kyo reminded Tohru that they could ditch everyone else and just head home. But she gently kissed him as she loosened his tie and reminded him it was just a meal they had to get through before they could be alone.

They were eating a nicer yakiniku restaurant, naturally suggested by Hanajima even though neither Kyo nor Tohru really preferred it.

Kyo suffered through what felt like the longest meal of his life. Everyone at the table insisted on 'saying a few words on their behalf.' Some of the speeches were brief, especially the psychic's and the rat's. But Arisa spent roughly 15 minutes rambling and, at times, yelling through her tears about how proud she was. Kazuma, who had actually prepared a small speech, started crying and struggled to get through it without taking several crying breaks.

Yuki, Saki, and Arisa ordered several rounds of sake before their meal was even ordered and continued to get drunker (and, as expected, more weepy) as the evening went on. They ordered several course's worth of food and then Yuki presented a cake he had purchased to celebrate the occasion. They were presented with gifts, mostly sentimental ones aimed at Tohru from the three twenty year olds, but also an unreasonably large check from Kazuma, which Tohru spent approximately 30 minutes insisting they couldn't accept. Yuki brought a canvas tote stuffed with cards and gifts from the rest of the Sohma clan.

When the check was finally paid, Kyo stood before everyone else, grabbing Tohru's hand as he did so, and announced "Well thanks, everyone, but it's getting late."

"That's rude," Yuki muttered drunkenly.

"Shut up," Kyo retorted as Tohru stood next to him. "I just sat through a long-ass dinner with you and didn't complain the whole time. You're welcome."

"Plus, we'll see you in the morning for breakfast!" Tohru exclaimed, stepping around the table to give each person a hug. "Are you sure you can get back to the guesthouse by yourselves?"

"Yep," Kyo responded. "They're sure. Shishou, thanks for dinner. See you in the morning. Bye."

As he pulled Tohru out onto the street, he couldn't help but stop to kiss her deeply. She giggled as she did so, eyes tearing up once more. "That was a long dinner," she admitted after pulling away. She reached for his hand and gently tugged him in the general direction of their home. "Come on, husband, let's go home."

They ascended the four flights of stairs to their apartment and unlocked the door. For an unknown reason, Kyo felt his nerves ignite. It wasn't because it was their first night as husband and wife, no, they'd crossed the intimacy bridge years ago. It was truly the first night of the rest of their lives.

"I have something for you," He said as he slipped off his wildly uncomfortable shoes.

"I have something for you, too!" She exclaimed. "I was going to give it to you earlier, but we didn't really have a chance." She reached into her bag and removed the gift. "Here, take it with you to the bedroom and I'll meet you there. I just want to take my hair out in the bathroom first."

He entered their room and pulled the box he had for her out from under a stack of shirts in his dresser. He carefully hung the blazer in the closet along with his tie while he waited for her and then sat on the bed, sliding her present in front of him and leaving the one she'd wrapped next to him.

Tohru emerged from the bathroom after a few minutes, out of her dress and wearing a simple white silk yukata. She had it tied loosely around her waist, the neckline dipping deliciously low and the hem ending just at the middle of her thighs. Her hair, previously set in curls and tied back, floated loosely around her face, traces of curls still visible at the very ends. She wore a set of ornately woven lace stockings, which ended just where the yukata began. A light, pink blush crept across her cheeks as she sat across from him. Kyo felt all of the air forced from his lungs. She was a vision.

He quickly shoved the gifts aside. "Gifts later," he begged and she smiled as she grabbed his hands.

"Gifts first, please," She requested. And though his entire body screamed in protest, he didn't deny her.

"Fine," he agreed, trying to focus his gaze away from her cleavage and whatever the hell was under that yukata.

She placed her long, thin package in his hands. "You first," she insisted. He carefully unfurled the ribbon and tore through the wrapping paper. As he unwrapped the gift she hurriedly explained "I got you one practical gift and one silly gift, but if you don't like them…"

He bopped her on the head with the lid of the box before he looked inside. "Oh, would you hush. I already love them."

"But you haven't seen them!" She exclaimed and shoved the box back into his hands. He pulled the larger gift out first. It was a simple, nondescript book with a soft leather cover. As he opened the cover to see the lettering she took his hand and said "Really, it's silly. It's okay if you don't like it."

He ran his fingers over the raised lettering of the inside cover. Kyo and Tohru Sohma. As he read it, he felt the backs of his eyes sting and his throat close. When he turned to the first page and saw the first picture taken of just the two of them, a tear ran down his cheek.

"I didn't even know this picture existed," he said, choking on his words.

It was the two of them at one of the shrines in Kyoto. They were standing together, Kyo balancing his arm on the top of her head and smirking. Tohru had a wide grin, her eyes not looking at the camera, but rather laughing at whatever he had been saying then. They both had a faint blush painted on their cheeks.

"Hana-chan took it," she explained, also tearing up. "I didn't think you ever saw it. I held onto it. Actually, I kept it under my pillow when we lived with Shigure-san."

He smiled at her. "I would say that's really dorky and embarrassing, but I would have done the same thing if I knew it existed, honestly."

She giggled and sidled up to his side as he flipped through the rest of the book. He knew the rest of the pictures well, pictures from graduation with, thankfully, the rest of their friends cropped out. Pictures of them on the day they had moved. Pictures of them in their new home. Candids of them eating or cooking together.

He closed the book and kissed her sweetly on the lips. "I love it, thank you." She smiled and wiped her tears with her hand. As she did so, he caught the gleam of her wedding ring in the dim light and his heart constricted once more. "I have an idea, actually."

"An idea?" She asked.

"Yeah, hear me out," He insisted. "I got you a practical gift and a silly gift, too. But I only want to give you the silly one tonight because it really goes with your gift. We can do practical tomorrow."

Tohru smiled and nodded. "I agree. Only mushy for tonight." She reached for the box next to him and he presented it to her. It wasn't nearly as neatly wrapped and the only damn wrapping paper he could find in their apartment had pumpkins on it, but whatever. She gently unwrapped it and lifted the lid. Inside was a slightly thicker book, bound with a beige canvas cover.

She opened it and, just like he was minutes ago, was struck by the raised letter on the first page. She immediately devolved into sobs, resting her head on Kyo's shoulder as she read it over and over again. The Sohma Family.

There was a single page with a picture and a small note written in calligraphic handwriting. It was a picture of them, in their wedding garb prepared by Ayame, taken with Tohru's phone three weeks ago when they'd first received a package. They were standing in the apartment against the living room wall, phone propped up across the room. It certainly wasn't a conventional wedding picture, but they certainly didn't have a conventional wedding. Beneath the picture was the date they had planned for their wedding and those same words she had printed in her book. Kyo and Tohru Sohma.

"Did you write this?" Tohru asked through her sniffles, running her fingers across the words.

"Hell no," Kyo responded, laughing. "I asked Hanajima to do it for me. She wanted me to pay her. I sent her a gift basket with food instead."

She beamed at him, eyes red, but sparkling. "Kyo-kun, that's even more sweet that you asked her for help. I love it. But why is the rest blank?"

Kyo rapped her on the head with his knuckles. "Dummy," he said, his voice affectionate. "That's for us to fill up for the rest of ever. With kids or cats or goblins we find outside. It's the Sohma family."

She kissed him sweetly on the lips, shuffling into his lap as she did so. "Thank you. I really, really love it." She kissed him once more and then pressed her forehead to his.

"Okay, can I open my last present now?"

Tohru's brow furrowed. "I thought we said tomorrow?"

"No, no," Kyo responded, gently untying the sash on her yukata as he pressed his lips to her jawline. "Not what I meant." She giggled as she shrugged out of her robe, revealing the elaborate, see-through lingerie that Ayame had sent her a week later.

"Okay, okay, I suppose you can, husband," she teased.

He pressed his lips to her breast and hummed in appreciation. "Happy wedding, Mrs. Sohma."

Author's Note: I got married in March right before my state shut down! My husband and I didn't want to ever get married (we've been together for 6 years), but then he needed health insurance and I had it, soooooo we did it. I started working on this piece right after we officially got married, but it was a WIP for a long time.

For some reason, I hardcore headcanon these two not having a fancy or traditional wedding. Neither Tohru nor Kyo like being in the center of attention and Tohru is so frugal. Idk it just makes sense to me. I know it is definitely not the usual "Marriage of Tohru and Kyo" and I really do love pieces where the wedding is elaborate, Shinto or Western. But for me, this is how I imagine it. Please enjoy!

#@kyoruweekofficial #kyoruweek2020 #sunset #kyo sohma #tohru honda #tohru fuckin' sohma

[mlovesstories]

Shake It Off Part 8

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Words: 1909

@spngenrebingo​ square: secret admirer

Summary: YN decides to change careers, and she also finds trouble at her new job.

Warnings: stalker, danger, cussing, angst

Jensen, Danneel, YN, Jared, Gen, Gino, the kids.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Jensen engulfed his oldest daughter in a hug.

“Thanks, Jensen,” she put her arm over his in appreciation.

“How’s it feel to be 40?” Jensen snickered. YN pushed him off of her with a laugh.

“Shut up, ass.”

“I love you.” 

“And I love me too. Now can we move on? I have a question,” YN turned to face him.

“Okay…” Jensen slowly said.

“Can I work at the brewery?”

“Umm. What?” Jensen froze, shocked by what he thought was a random question.

“I’m tired of sitting in front of a damn computer. Please?”

“What brought this on?”

“It’s the family business, I guess. I want to interact with people, and I want to be a part of something bigger than me.” YN shrugged. “If it’s stupid, you can forget it.”

“No, I don’t think it’s stupid. I am honored that you would even ask. I’m not sure what positions are open, honestly. You’ll have to ask Dee, Gino or one of the managers.”

“But you’re okay with the idea?”

“You’re hard-working and my daughter, so yeah. Duh,” he grinned. “Please ask them. I would love to see you there.”

—————-

“Thanks for the picture, Jensen!” A fan waved and walked toward the parking lot of the brewery.  

“No problem, sweetheart,” he smiled.

“Wow, you deal with that all the time?” YN walked up to him with her official brewery logo shirt on.  

Jensen laughed.

“Eh.  Sometimes.  They are always sweet.  I don’t mind.  How’s work?” Jensen side-hugged her as not to drop her computer out of her hand.

“Good.  I’m updating the website a little bit.”

“You’re already messing up what we set up?” He squeezed her tightly.  

“It’s not bad!  I’m just making it easier for the users, that’s all.”

“YN!” Gino called.

“Yeah?” She turned away from Jensen.  

“I need you to fix something.  Let your kid work, Jay,” the younger man smirked.

“Right, sorry.  Have a good day, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Jensen.”

________

“Sissy!” JJ ran up to YN at the end of the day.  “You work with Mommy, Daddy, and Uncle Gino?”

“Yeah, see?  That’s my name!” YN squatted down in the brewery storage room.  She pulled the lanyard around her neck so that JJ could read it.  

“Cool!”

“You ready to go home?  Mommy and Daddy left already.  You get to ride with me today!”

“Really?  Yeah!”

“Okay, come on.”

On the ride home, JJ sang to the Frozen soundtrack.  YN laughed and joined in all the way back to the Ackles’ house.  As the two pulled into the driveway, JJ nodded off to sleep.  YN parked and unbuckled her little sister. Her body limp, JJ reached for YN.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.  You’re too big for me to carry you,” YN grunted as she picked up the little girl.  After locking her car doors, YN carefully entered the house.  

“Oh, I’ll take her,” Jensen walked over to YN quietly.  

“I got her.  If you could through this stuff over there, I’d appreciate it,” YN maneuvered her shoulders so that her purse and laptop bag slid down her arm.  Jensen took the items and leaned them against the wall.  YN slowly carried JJ up the stairs.  “Let’s get you changed for bed.”

“No,” JJ whined. She resisted in her groggy state,

“Fine,” YN laughed.  “Get under your covers.  Good night, JJ.” YN kissed the little girl’s forehead.  

“Nigh-nigh, sissy.”

YN turned off JJ’s light and walked down the stairs.  

“Hey, YN!”  Jared stood up from the couch and walked toward her with a beer in his hand.  “How are you?” He wrapped his arms around her.

“Good, you?” She returned his hug with a squeeze around his waist. “I need one of those,” YN laughed.

“Here,” Jared walked to the fridge.

“No, I’m good.  I was being facetious. I don’t drink on work nights.”

“Oh.  Never mind then.” He shut the refrigerator.

“How you doing?” YN walked back with Jared to the couch.  

“Fine.  I’m finally through increasing my meds for the gazillionth time,” he huffed.  “The side-effects have been hard.”

“But you’re feeling better? More stable with the symptoms and all that?”

“Yeah. It’s good.”

“There you are!” Jensen and Danneel walked into the living room after changing into their pajamas.

Danneel hugged her and sat down next to YN.

“Good day?”

“Yeah. Everything's just new. But it’s good. I’m just tired.”

“Are you putting yourself first?” Jared asked sincerely.

“Yeah. I think so. Been working out. Just trying to balance the new schedule. Speaking of which, I need some sleep.” YN stood.

“It’s 9pm!” Jared laughed.

“I have to be up at 5! That’s eight hours. I need my beauty sleep. I don’t have makeup artists to make me look good.” She stuck her tongue out at them. “See you all tomorrow. Love you.”

————-

“What are you doing up so early?” YN trudged into the house to get some food. She saw Jensen sitting on a stool at the island.

“Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d make you breakfast.” He rubbed his eyes.

“That’s sweet. Thanks.” He stood to grab some eggs from eggs from the fridge.  

The two talked about the brewery and how YN liked her job.  She explained that it was all still new and different,  but she enjoyed it overall.  

“Why are you going in so early? Gino doesn’t get there til midmorning.

“He said if I come in early, I can go home early.  So, if I go in at seven, I can leave at three unless something comes up.”

“No nine-to-five for you?” Jensen smirked.

“Nah.  Early bird.”

YN heard her phone ring.  She looked quizzically at Jensen.  When YN pulled out it out of her pocket, she saw Gen’s picture on the screen.

“What the hell?” She showed Jensen.  “Hey Gen, it’s early.  Is something wrong?”

“I’m in New York, but Jared is having a panic attack at home, and I can’t calm him down.  Are you home?”

“Oh, no.  Okay.  Yeah, I am.  Where are the kids?”

“In bed.  I called the nanny and asked her to get them to school.  She’s on her way.  I think Jared is still in our room, can you go check on him?”

“Absolutely.  Call you later.” YN hung up quickly.  “You wanna come?  Do you have a key to their house?” She asked Jensen.  

“Yeah. Dee’s here.  Let’s go.”

When they entered the master bedroom, Jared’s eyes were wide, and his body was frozen.  

“Hey, Jared,” YN said slowly and calmly.  “What happened?”

“Bad dream that I had a seizure,” Jared breathed shallowly.  “I think I’m okay though.”

“That’s good.  You need anything?” Jensen walked closer to his friend.  

“The kids…”

“Nanny’s coming.  Don’t worry about it.  Would you like for us to stay with you?” YN asked.

“Until the nanny comes,” he sighed.

“Okay.  No problem,” YN sat down in a chair near the bed.  Jensen did the same.  

“I think I’ll be okay though.”

“You’re doing great, buddy,” Jensen supported his friend.  

_________

“He’s fine. Jensen is with him. I had to go to work. He’s calm now.”

“”Good. Thank you,” Gen said through the car radio system.

“No problem. I’m at work, I gotta go,” YN said goodbye.

YN walked through the back of the brewery quickly after an urgent phone call to come in.

“What happened?”

Gino carried his laptop.

“We got hacked.”

“I just updated the security!”

“I know. I can’t tell you what happened,” Gino places his computer on the bar. “See?”  He turned his computer toward her as she dropped her personal belongings on the ground.

“Damn.” She brought his laptop closer to her. “What- the-”

“What?” Gino stood behind her to see what YN was looking at.

“The code.  The hack.  It was meant for me.”

“Again… what?” Gino grew frustrated.

“It’s a note for me.  It says I need to stay out of the way.”

“Of what?  That’s complicated and targeted. What did we get involved with?”

“I’m not sure, boss.  I’m not sure.”

________

“You aren’t serious?  What did you do?  You said you were going to upgrade it!” Jensen screamed over the phone.  

“It’s not my fault!  Someone is coming after me!  The code has my name in it!”

“Come home then.  You’ll be safe here.”

“I’m calling the cops,” Gino yelled across the dining room.  

“Gino is calling the police.  I can’t leave right now.”

“Fine.  Dee ran out to the store, so I’m the only one with the kids.”

“Gino’s here.  I’m sure he can handle it.”

“Promise me you’ll have Gino lock the gates to the property once the cops come. And you stay inside no matter what.”

“Jensen…”

“Do it!” Her dad yelled.  

“I’ll do it, promise.  I gotta go.  I can hear the sirens.  Thanks, Jensen.  I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

She hung up.  

______

“I’m home!” YN ran into the Ackles’ home.  She saw Danneel with tears in her eyes and Jensen solemnly standing next to her.  Danneel ran into YN’s arms and squeezed her tightly.  

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Danneel looked her over and watched the younger one’s face.

“I’m okay.  I promise.  Are you okay?”

“I’m angry someone threatened you.  I’m so sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have let you work at the brewery.  This is my fault,” Jensen growled, protective of his daughter.  

“Don’t pull that shit.  You don’t get to blame yourself. Not now.  For whatever reason this happened, and I-” YN froze and her eyes went wide.  She started falling to the ground, but Danneel was able to catch her and guide her to the floor.  

“YN!” Jensen ran to stand over her.

“I think it’s the anxiety kicking in,” YN slowly whispered.  “I was doing okay, but-”

“Shh.  Can I lift you up and guide you to the couch?” Jensen asked his daughter.  

“Yes, please.”  Once Jensen got her comfortable, she said, “I’m okay.  I didn’t mean to scare you guys.  I’m sorry.”

“You are not going anywhere without somebody with you, you understand?” Danneel ordered.

“What?”

“Your life was basically threatened and now you’re anxious.  It’s just precautionary,” Danneel soothed.  

“I don’t need a babysitter,” YN groaned.  

“Yes.  Now you’re planted here until further notice,” Jensen demanded.  

“Whatever,” YN rolled her eyes.  She stood up and tried to exit the back door when Jensen slid between her and the door.  

“In OUR house.  Not the guest house.  You’re not going to be alone until we figure this out.”

“Seriously?” YN’s shoulders sagged.  “Can I go get some clothes, at least?”

“I’m coming with you,” he opened the door to exit the house.

“Ugh,” she dramatically groaned.

________

“You can take your old room if you want.  Just- please don’t go rogue.” Danneel smiled.  

“I won’t, promise.”

“What the hell happened?”

The ladies turned to see Jared stomping toward them.  

“Jared?”

“Somebody wants to hurt you.  Are you okay?” He put a hand on her arm.

“Yes, I’m fine.  I’m always fine.  Leave me alone.” YN pushed his hand off of her.  “I need a nap.  I’m exhausted.  I know you have to get the kids soon.  Please don’t tell them.  I don’t want them to be scared.”

“Yeah, go rest.  Don’t worry about the little ones,” Danneel assured her.  “Jared and I can go get the kids while Jensen stays here with you.”

“I’m fine- please.  I’ll stay in the house.”

“Get. Your Ass. Upstairs,” Jensen said lowly.  

“Whatever.  Warden.” 

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[camillemontespan]

the wedding date [AU. drake walker]

Just a short thing I started, might not continue this, but think this could be like a romcom fic. I watched a film with the babe that is Dermot Mulroney last night and was reminded of the Wedding Date. So.. this fic is inspired by that. 

@burnsoslow​ @moonlightgem7​ @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ @pug-bitch​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @ibldw-main​ @sirbeepsalot​ @dcbbw​ @mskaneko​ @gardeningourmet​ @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​  @emichelle​ @katedrakeohd​ @emceesynonymroll​ @notoriouscs​

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

‘She’s getting married.’

Liam and Leo both blinked in shock as they digested Drake’s words. His voice was despondent. Sighing, he crumpled up the invitation with gold lettering and threw it to the centre of the table. 

‘Dude.. are you okay?’ Leo asked. 

Drake shrugged. ‘Yeah. It was expected, you know? I knew she had a boyfriend.’

‘True but it’s only been six months..’ Liam interjected. 

‘Must be true love then, heh,’ Drake replied, trying to make light of it. ‘Something I couldn’t offer her.’ 

The three of them were sat in a bar on the corner of East 62nd Street. It was Saturday and their ‘guys day’ which had promised to consist of beer and football had become overshadowed by Drake’s announcement that his ex-girlfriend was engaged. 

Kiara had wanted to be the bigger person and invite Drake, her ex-boyfriend. 

Drake wished she hadn’t. 

‘Are you gonna go?’ Liam asked. 

‘Fuck no,’ Drake said. ‘Why would I want to put myself through that? The pitying looks. The awkward small talk The champagne. Ugh, fuck that.’ 

Leo smirked. ‘Maybe you could bring a date. Show her that you don’t care.’

‘I’m not even going to consider that,’ Drake said dryly. He gestured to the bartender and asked for another glass of whiskey. ‘Make it a double.’

Liam reached out to open the crumpled invitation. 

‘His name is Gabriel. Like the angel,’ he said, reading its contents. ‘Ooh they’ve hired the Plaza for the wedding venue. Champagne reception and canapes. How fancy.’ 

‘Just like her,’ Drake said quietly. ‘She always liked that shit.’

Leo and Liam grimaced. They knew that Drake and Kiara had been ill-matched from the very beginning. Why the two of them were ever together, they would never know. 

Kiara was the daughter of a diplomat. She studied at an Ivy League university - Princeton- and worked as a translator.  She loved fine wine, travel documentaries and designer clothes. 

Drake was the son of a security guard - his father passed away when he was fourteen and his mother abandoned him soon after. He didn’t go to university, instead working in bars when he was legally of age. He loved whiskey, boxsets and denim shirts. He had never worn anything designer in his life.

But that was just the superficial stuff. The flaws in their relationship ran deeper than materialism. Drake was often happy to go to dive bars and wind away the hours with a bottle of whiskey. He was fine with his life; not totally happy because who genuinely was, but he was fine. He liked living in New York and seeing his friends. He liked going outdoors on hikes, but Kiara didn’t. She wasn’t one for outdoor activities; she liked her creature comforts. 

It had stemmed from their sexual attraction. They had locked eyes one night at the bar Drake worked. It was an up-market place and Kiara had been sat with her friends on a tall chair, her lithe legs crossed with her dress riding up her thigh. As Drake poured a glass of wine, Kiara’s gaze was fixed on him and he found that he couldn’t look away. 

She was petite. Dark skin, black hair, flirty smile. 

They went back to hers. Drake had picked her up and pinned her against the wall of the hallway, enjoying the groans she made as he kissed her neck. His hands had raked through her hair and pulled at her designer dress, revealing the lace black lingerie she wore underneath. 

Kiara liked kink, Drake gradually found out. When they became official, she introduced new things to the bedroom that Drake loved. He loved that she liked bondage. He loved that she liked sex toys. He loved that she would walk to his apartment dressed in only a trench coat and heels, untying her coat when he let her inside, so the trench fell to the floor and revealed her nude form. 

But it wasn’t enough. 

Kiara wanted to commit. Like, really commit. She wanted a ring on her finger and declarations of love. 

But Drake didn’t love her. It wasn’t her fault; the fact was that Drake Walker had never loved anyone. He didn’t know how to. 

In the end, she left. 

And he wasn’t surprised. 

Because everyone left Drake in the end. What was one more person?

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

‘I’ve signed you up.’

Drake frowned at Liam. ‘Signed me up for what?’

‘Dating,’ Liam replied, holding up his phone. 

‘Oh fuck off, Li,’ Drake groaned. ‘I don’t need a girlfriend-’

‘Not a girlfriend,’ Liam interrupted. ‘Just something casual.’

‘Why?’

Liam picked up the invitation. ‘Because you were with Kiara for two years,’ he said. ‘She meant something to you. She’s invited you to her wedding. Clearly, she wants to make amends. Why not?’

‘Sounds like hell if you ask me,’ Leo said, tossing back a glass of scotch. ‘Why would he want to do that? Attend his ex’s wedding while she laughs and kisses her new husband, revelling in her new status as a constant ball and chain? Sounds like a fucking blast.’

Drake smirked. ‘Exactly.’

‘Look, you can bring a date to this!’ Liam protested. ‘You can show you have moved on. You can look like a good guy, going to her wedding to wish her well.’

‘Liam, no random girl is going to go to a wedding with a guy she’s just met,’ Drake told him. 

Liam shot him a mischevious smile. ‘Not these girls.’

Drake grabbed his phone. ‘What the fuck have you done?’

Plus1.com. 

‘What the fuck is plus1.com?’ Drake asked, horrified. Leo let out a laugh but lapsed into silence when Drake gave him a death stare. 

Liam smiled. ‘It’s a website for people who are looking for dates for events they’ve been invited to. Your profile is shared around agencies until a girl messages you. Hence, plus one. It’s online dating for those who don’t actually want to date! The girl finds you, so it’s not creepy as it’s all in the girl’s court,  and you meet up, talk about the wedding, and then you go to said wedding. Easy.’

‘I could just stay home,’ Drake replied. ‘That’s the other option. Less hassle. Makes more sense. I can just get drunk on whiskey and watch porn.’ 

‘That sounds fucking excellent,’ Leo quipped, raising his glass. ‘Cheers to that!’ 

Liam looked from Leo to Drake with a look of dismay on his face. ‘You both are disgusting.’

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

Liam had emailed Drake the login details for plus1.com. The username Liam had chosen for Drake was ‘GrumpyMarshmallow’ and the profile picture was of the three of them at another bar. Drake was going to delete his profile as soon as he got home. He didn’t want to have that abomination online for another minute. 

Drake got home at 2am. He lived in a dingy studio apartment over a liquor store, which Leo thought was the best location for an apartment, which meant that Drake would have to move at some point. Anything Leo approved of was bad thing. 

He got undressed and pulled on his check pyjama bottoms. Sitting up in bed with his laptop balanced on his lap, Drake pulled up the plus1 website. He cringed at the profile Liam had made for him. 

My name’s Drake Walker. I’m 28 years old, single -obviously- and live in New York. I like whiskey, hiking, reading and 80s rock (don’t judge). I’m fun company, if a little sarcastic and dry to begin with, but I swear, once you get to know me, I’m not all bad.  I’ve been invited to my ex’s wedding and I don’t want to go. My friends have suggested I try this. It’s a champagne reception and canapes. I can’t stand champagne or canapes. Emotional support will be needed. 

Ugh god, he needed to delete this asap. 

He was trying to find the Settings option when he saw that he had a message. It would probably be those ‘Welcome to hell!’ intro messages for new users. 

It wasn’t.

The profile picture was of a girl. She had dark hair, caramel skin and was posing in front of a white wall. It looked like a polaroid for a model on a go-see. Drake thought this started to look suspicious. Maybe Liam had missed the small print? 

‘Hey there,’ her message began. 

‘‘Ugh champagne and canapes, really? But hey, problem shared is a problem halved, right? 

P.S. whiskey on the other hand.. 

-Camille. ‘

Drake stared at the screen. What was he supposed to do with that? 

Delete the fucking profile. 

She was pretty.

Delete the fucking profile.

Was she flirting with him?

Delete the fucking profile.

But then, he could go to the wedding and show Kiara that he was fine. He was doing good. He had a babe on his arm. He didn’t need Kiara. He had.. Camille. Camille who liked whiskey. 

Delete the fucking profile.

Drake thought of Kiara kissing her new husband while everyone looked at him with pity. 

Drake thought of staying home to drink whiskey and watch porn. 

Drake clicked on the message and began to type. 

#drake walker #drake walker x mc #trr fanfic #trr au

[jbbuckybarnes]

Distant Connection - 7/11

Pairing: Bucky x Harmonia (OC) Warnings: mentions of wicca/witchcraft, mention of parents death, gossiping about main character Summary: After an unknown group of goons took her mom’s life and tried to get her for the dark magic powers she possesses, this untaught witch is saved by the Avengers and brought to the compound where her new life unfolds.

MASTERLIST || Distant Connection Masterlist

After waking up pretty early again Harmony decided to go to the stone circle outside of the compound again. Something about this area in the early morning hours was deeply relaxing. She climbed up one of the rocks and sat on it with her face away from the building. She had a nightmare that night about seeing people dying and it still didn’t fully leave her system. Gore wasn’t something she usually dreamt about. She didn’t even watch horror movies. She had her little journal with her and wrote the rest of her erie feeling out of her system. Steve was watching her from afar after he finished his morning run. Something about her today was different. He could feel it and see it in the way she acted. After a while, she jumped down from the giant rock to put her journal back into her backpack and started training a bit. Seeing her pick up those gigantic rocks with her powers made Steve drop his jaw and as soon as she kicked it the opposite direction of him he got the chills. Training alone gave her some kind of balance that made it possible for her to cry. If the anger could leave her body, the sadness could go too. After watching her for a while he saw her picking up her things again and left for his room to not make her feel uncomfortable.

After a shower she picked up her sketchbook and some art supplies and left the compound to go to the tower again. She didn’t even think about the plans she made with James for the morning, she just needed a different environment to get her mind off things. She walked in to a few college students learning for their exams and two high schoolers hurrying to leave because their next lesson would start soon. After grabbing a snack she sat down in front of one of the laptops in the computer room and opened her book of shadows on a new page to write down the symbolism of her dream. There was something very soul-cleansing about spending the evening before and this morning alone with herself and her thoughts.

Someone sat down next to her while she was deep into reading an article on coping through dreaming. “Is everything okay, Harmony?” Steve’s voice asked beside her.

She looked away from the screen and at him, “Yeah, just need some alone time. Why are you asking?” “You are so different today. I saw you train and you were...not like you usually are,” he answered softly. “I had a nightmare but I’m fine. Promise.” she gave him a weak smile but she meant it. He put a hand on her shoulder, “I’m always here if you wanna talk about it, okay?” She nodded, “I know. Sometimes I just need a bit of time to understand things myself.” “You wanna be alone now?” He asked empathetic. “If you wanna stay you can. I don’t mind. Just don’t interrupt me too much.” She smiled before she got a nod and looked back onto the screen. The morning hours in the tower were actually quite nice, not a lot of people and still a lot of inspiration from Midtown Manhattan outside. Steve was drawing again, this time with markers, and she went on with reading about PTSD and other mental health things. The only sound interrupting the silence was her regularly eating a date from the snack package she grabbed or the closing and opening of a pen. “You know...he’s the old him around you,” Steve said out of nowhere after closing a marker. “I know. He just...he’s home,” she described it back to him. “And the only times you have a generally positive look on your face is when he’s around.” He went on. “You can be lonely in a room full of people until the right person comes around.” She smiled softly at the thought of the evening before. “You love him,” he said with a soft and knowing smile back. “Yes. Yes, I do.” A dumb little smile formed on her lips after saying that out loud. “He loves you too.” He opened the next marker. “I know.” Her heart made a little extra jump. “Why that?” He asked with a grin knowing that she was either about to list all the ways he made her happy or tell a great story of him admitting his feelings somehow. She opened her sketchbook on the page he had drawn. “That’s why you weren’t mad at him when you came out of the elevator.” He realized. She giggled and nodded at his little realization. “He can be really charming if he wants to, huh?” He joked about his friend. “Truly, with a little pinch of being afraid of me throwing him across the room with my magic...which I won’t say that it happened but I don’t wanna lie either.” She was back at her normal self again finally. Both of them started chuckling before they heard footsteps in the door, “It was her learning self-defense may I add.” James said with a smile. Her whole face lit up even more when she saw him there “What are you doing here?” she asked while pointing at the chair left to her. He walked over with a, “My two main idiots aren’t at the compound. Of course I look for you here after you told me about your art sessions. Turns out they are also gossiping about me sessions.” He winked with a smile on his face. Before sitting down he leaned forward and softly pressed a kiss onto her lips. This was the most perfect situation. His best friend deserved to know first and he was the most comfortable doing this in front of him. With one of his typical Steve smiles he asked, “How long have you been doing this right in front of my face without me knowing?” “Since the elevator incident,” James answered. “Great. Makes me feel really good about myself that me scaring you, kissing you where Steve can’t eavesdrop and you telling me my art is better than Steve’s is ‘The Elevator Incident’,” She chuckled. Both men started laughing loudly at her little sassy moment. “With a witch and an assassin, everything has a code name or is an incident...or both,” James said shrugging and smiling. He was sitting with his body towards her and his hand on the table in front of her where she grabbed it. He didn’t stop his breathing this time. Something about her warm hand on his cold one was calming him. “Actually...I made a painting of that incident.” She flipped open the page with her free hand. “That’s pretty.” James smiled at it and leaned forward to kiss her head. “Of course you like a painting of yourself dude.” Steve laughed. “It’s called being grateful and in love Steve!” He said giving him a slight punch on his arm with his free hand. “You sure you both aren’t blood-related?” She looked at both of them with a soft smile. “Nah, I would be way more of a dumbass if I was related to him.” James started. “But also a little more artistic.” Came back from the other side. “Damn, that hurt.” He said fake offended. Harmony just shook her head giggling, “I went here to learn but that’s impossible with two idiots left and right from me.” Their little chatting session was interrupted by a lot of school kids coming in. School was over for most of them and she realized how long she had been sitting there with Steve before James came.

The girl from last time sat down across from them with a little smile at Harmony. “Hey Lydia.” Steve beside her said with a smile. “Oh, she really came to you for help, huh? Told her you were a complete dork.” Harmony nudged her elbow into his side. “He is.” Came back with a bright smile. “Can we help you somehow?” She asked her. “Not unless you wanna write an essay about pop culture and its influence on spirituality in the last 10 years.” Came back a little bit exhausted. “I know a lot about it but really wouldn’t know where to start with it. Let me know if you need my help when it comes to nature religions and witchcraft.” Harmony answered. Her eyes got a little bigger when she heard witchcraft. “Wait. Tell me a little bit about witchcraft cause that’s something we didn’t talk about and that could get me a straight A.” She was excited all of a sudden. “Sure.” Harmony grabbed her book and came over to her to talk about her experiences with witchcraft. The two men just sat across from them staring for the longest time until Steve continued drawing and James stole her sketchbook and drew something into it too.

“Can I ask you something?” Lydia almost whispered. “Sure.” Harmony smiled knowing some weird question was about to come. “Are you...an Avenger?” Not what she expected. She shrugged her shoulders “Ask Tony. I can throw this one across a room,” She pointed at her boyfriend, “so I’ll assume yes.” “I didn’t defend myself. Just for the record,” he answered from the other side of the table. “No, you were distracted and called me a dork, remember?” She chuckled. “Yes, that shit hurt.” He almost mumbled it. “Too old for the job, huh?” She poked fun at him. “Don’t get too confident over there, little witch.” He smiled a heartwarming smile. “I’m always confident...soldier boy.” Her eyes narrowed with a smirk. “Get a room!” Steve now commented with a big smile on what happened in front of him. “Remember that both my room and his room are super close to yours? I think you would still hear us...talking.” That was a saved sentence there, the girl didn’t need to know about this. The little smirk that instantly vanished again from James’ face was only noticeable for her. “So...you are an Avenger? Cool.” Lydia smiled at her a little bit in awe.

#mine #bucky x oc #oc x bucky #bucky barnes x oc #oc x bucky barnes #named!reader #named!reader x bucky #bucky x named!reader #bucky barnes x named!reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #bucky fanfic #bucky x harmonia #HarmoniaGaiaCollection #Harmonia Gaia Aphrodite #Harmonia Universe #james barnes

[xanderkaiju]

Top 4 Tips For Buying Laptop in 2020

Laptops are compact enough to hold with you, yet versatile enough to run demanding applications. it is the best tool for doing serious work or play whether you're reception , on the road or during a college classroom. For those reasons, we've compiled lists of the simplest business laptops and best laptops, to not mention our greatest laptops rankings for many users.

While standalone tablets and smartphones are always popular, most of the people realize that everything from typing a search paper to crunching video to gaming works better on a laptop. So what sort of laptop do you have to get? We put together a laptop buying guide to assist you out.

There's a big variety of sizes, features and costs , which makes choosing the simplest laptop a challenge. That's why you would like to work out what your needs are.

Quick Tips These are the foremost important things to think about when choosing a replacement laptop. For tons more detail, see the sections below.

12.5 to 14-inch screens offer the simplest balance between usability and portability. Larger screens are fine if you do not travel much and smaller models are great for teenagers . If you're spending over $600, draw a bead on these minimum specs: Core i5 CPU 1920 x 1080 screen 8GB of RAM SSD Storage rather than a tough drive. 8+ hours of battery life is right if you propose to require your laptop anywhere in the least .

Consider a 2-in-1 laptop (either a bendback or detachable) if you would like to use your laptop as a tablet. If not, a typical clamshell notebook could also be a far better choice. Chromebooks are good for teenagers and students and their functionality is expanding rapidly. Windows laptops and MacBooks both offer many functionality; which platform you favor may be a matter of private taste. laptop buying guide rows of laptops

Also Read: Which is the best wireless mouse for gaming?

1. Pick a Platform: Mac, Windows or Chrome OS?

This is not a simple question to answer, especially if you are not conversant in both Macs and PCs. But this quick overview of every platform’s strengths and weaknesses should help.

Most laptops accompany one among three operating systems: Windows, Chrome OS or MacOS (for MacBooks only). Choosing the proper one may be a personal preference, but here's a fast summary of what each offers.

Windows 10

windows 10 home page screenshot The most flexible OS , Windows, runs on more laptop models than Chrome OS or Mac OS X. Windows notebooks home in price from under $150 to many thousand dollars and offer a good array of features from touch screens to fingerprint readers to dual graphics chips. Windows 10, the newest version of Microsoft's flagship OS , provides variety of improvements over Windows 7 and eight , including the power to modify between tablet and desktop modes, a revamped Start menu with live tiles and therefore the powerful Cortana digital assistant.

Since its launch in July 2015, Windows 10 has also added a number of improvements, including the power to use follow-up questions with Cortana, search your email using tongue and use your stylus to scribble almost anywhere. Windows 10 laptops are great for college kids , researchers and business users, and they are the sole machines gamers should consider.

Apple macOS Catalina

All MacBooks accompany Apple's latest desktop OS , macOS Catalina. Overall, the OS offers similar functionality to Windows 10, but with a special combat the interface that substitutes an apps dock at rock bottom of the screen for Microsoft's Start menu and taskbar. rather than the Cortana digital assistant, Mac users get Siri. they will also perform transactions with Apple Pay, take calls or texts from their phones and unlock their laptops with an Apple Watch.

However, macOS isn't made for touch, because no MacBook comes with slightly screen. the newest macOS Catalina OS brings iPad apps over to Mac, also as secondary display support for iPads and new accessibility features.

Chrome OS

google chrome os home screen Found on inexpensive Chromebooks like the Samsung Chromebook 3. Google's OS is straightforward and secure, but more limited than Windows or macOS. The interface looks tons like Windows with an application menu, a desktop and therefore the ability to tug windows around, but the most app you employ is that the Chrome browser. The downside is that a lot of of the "web apps" you employ don't work particularly well offline. However, that's changing as most Chromebooks, including the high-end, Google PixelBook, can now run Android apps.

If you would like a tool to surf the online and check email, navigate social networks and chat online, Chromebooks are highly portable and have a tendency to supply good battery life at low prices. they're also extremely fashionable schools and fogeys , because they're hard for teenagers to infect with malware and more functional than most tablets. If you would like a Chromebook, search for one with a minimum of 4GB of RAM and 16GB of storage. A 1920 x 1080 resolution preferred and 4K is best but very uncommon. Pay extra to urge a 2-in-1 if you propose to use Android apps.

2. Decide If you would like a 2-in-1

Many PC laptops fall under the category of 2-in-1 laptops, hybrid devices which will switch between traditional clamshell mode, tablet mode and other positions in between like tent or stand modes. 2-in-1s generally are available two different styles: detachables with screens that come off the keyboard entirely and versatile laptops with hinges that bend back 360 degrees to vary modes.

Most of those systems are far better at serving one purpose than the opposite , with bend-backs being laptops first and detachables offering a superior tablet experience. However, if you do not see the necessity to use your notebook as a slate, you'll usually get more performance for your money with a standard clamshell laptop.

3. Choose the proper Size

laptop different display sizes 13-inch 15-inch and 17-inch Before you check out specs or pricing, you would like to work out just how portable you would like your laptop to be. Laptops are usually categorized by their display sizes:

11 to 12 inches: The thinnest and lightest systems around have 11- to 12-inch screens and typically weigh 2.5 to 3.5 pounds. 13 to 14 inches: Provides the simplest balance of portability and usefulness , particularly if you get a laptop that weighs under 4 pounds. 15 to 16 inches: the foremost popular size, 15-inch laptops usually weigh 4 to five .5 pounds. Consider this size if you would like a bigger screen and you are not getting to carry your notebook around often. Laptops with 16-inch displays are rare but Apple might get the trend started with its 16-inch MacBook Pro. 17 to 18 inches: If your laptop stays on your desk all day a day , a 17- or 18-inch system could provide you with the type of processing power you would like to play high-end games or do workstation-level productivity.

4. make sure Keyboard and Touchpad

The most impressive specs within the world don't mean diddly if the laptop you're buying doesn't have good ergonomics. If you propose to try to to tons of labor on your computer, confirm the keyboard offers solid tactile feedback, many key travel (the distance the key goes down when pressed, usually 1 to 2mm) and enough space between the keys. If you're buying a Windows laptop, make certain it's Precision touchpad drivers.

ThinkPad X1 Carbon Look for an accurate touchpad that does not offer you a jumpy cursor and responds consistently to multitouch gestures like pinch-to-zoom. If you're buying a business laptop, consider getting one with a pointing stick (aka nub) between the G and H keys so you'll navigate round the desktop without lifting your fingers off the keyboard's home row.

#Best Laptops #Best Laptops in 2020 #Tips for buying laptops

[teamatsumu]

Dance With Me

Summary: The reader needs to learn how to dance, and quick. Loki offers to help.

Pairing: Loki x reader

Word Count: 1,844

A/N: Writing fluffy Loki is difficult because I don’t want it to be ooc. But here goes lol. Let me know if it’s a complete failure or not.

“Ugh.” You threw your arms up, running your hands through your hair in frustration. You stared at the laptop screen, hands on your hips, watching the woman do the twirl she had done again, the one you had just failed miserably doing. You sneered at her, even though she was unaware of that. You looked at the clock.

It was impossible. You had to be at the charity ball tonight, and it was already noon. There was no way you could learn to do all this by the time your date came around to pick you up. You had already accepted that you were going to completely embarrass yourself at this ball. Now all you could do was wait until the embarrassment happened.

“Brunch is ready, Ms Y/L/N.” You heard FRIDAY say. You sighed, feeling your mood darken.

“I'm not hungry, FRIDAY.” You replied, knowing she would convey your message to everyone else.

You went back 30 seconds on the video, taking a few paces backward to give yourself space. You stared hard at the woman as she first did the step slowly, absorbing the move as much as you could. Then she did it at a normal pace and you tried to follow, yelping when you lost your balance and tried not to fall on your face. You gritted your teeth to hold in your scream of frustration, rolling your eyes up to the ceiling.

There was a knock on the door. You shouted at them to come in and watched as a head of long raven hair popped in.

“Why aren't you hungry?” Loki asked, obviously having gotten FRIDAY’s message. You shrugged, gesturing at him to come in farther. He complied.

“I'm just a little busy. And not really in the mood to eat.” You replied. You were surprised that Loki had come to check on you. It had been quite a while since he'd started living in the Tower but he still didn't like talking to people unless it was necessary. He nodded, eyebrows furrowing at the sweat that shined on your face. His eyes caught the illuminated laptop screen and he raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“What's this?” He stepped forward to read the title. “You're trying to learn ballroom dancing?”

You nodded. “Keyword: Trying. I'm failing miserably.”

Loki smirked a bit. “Of course you are. Dancing isn't something you can learn just by watching. You need hands on experience.”

You sighed, flopping down on your bed. You stared up at the ceiling as the mattress dipped under Loki's weight. You couldn't understand why he hadn't left yet. But you weren't about to complain. You had a small soft spot for Loki anyway.

“I have to learn by 7 tonight. I lost a bet with a friend and now she insists I go to this charity event with her. She even got me a date. And I really don't want to embarrass myself in front of this guy.”

Loki was silent for a while before he got up, moving to the door. You watched him as he turned around and looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you coming?”

You blinked. “Where?”

“Just come. You will find out.”

Loki led you to his room, closing the door behind him. You looked around the space, fascinated. You had never been in Loki's room. Nobody had, in fact. Loki had settled in and had good relations with all the Avengers by now, but you knew he didn't want to get too personal. He still struggled with communication a bit. Sometimes he still came off as a bit arrogant, but he was much better than before. Everyone had accepted this changed behaviour as good luck and just went with it. No one became too friendly with him.

The room was much bigger than yours, and more lavishly decorated. You realized quickly that many things were from Asgard. So Loki wanted to keep pieces of home with him, despite always trash talking the place and claiming Asgard wasn't his home. Someone was more sentimental than you gave him credit for.

You watched as he played something on his newly bought human phone, and a soft tune started playing through the speakers. You didn't recognize it, but it had a nice ring to it. It was exactly the kind of music you knew would be playing at the ball. Loki walked back to you, extending his hand. You stared it it.

“What are you doing?”

Loki gave you a look. “What does it look like? I'm about to teach you how to dance.”

“You are?” You looked at him in surprise.

Loki sighed. “Would you like a formal invitation?”

You rolled your eyes, placing a hand in his. “Okay, tone down the sarcasm.”

You let him adjust where your hands would be, placing one on his shoulder and holding the other in his own. You were surprised at how gentle his touch was, having always associated him with death and destruction. You cleared your throat a bit. You couldn't help but feel awkward like this, not used to being this close to Loki. You two weren't exactly friends.

He directed you as your feet moved, slowly at first and then slightly picking up the pace. You smiled when you found yourself being able to keep up with his own expertise. Slowly, you two fell into a rhythm.

“Why are you doing this? I thought you hated humans.” You asked, still swaying with him. Loki nodded.

“I do.”

You gave him a look. “Last time I checked, I'm human too.”

Loki nodded again. “Yes, but you're not as annoying. You're…… mildly decent.”

You snorted. “Mildly decent. Thanks.”

Loki looked down at you then, a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He didn't say anything, just pulled back to twirl you before you came back together.

For the next hour, Loki taught you many things about dancing. You attributed his knowledge to his Royal upbringing, but it was hard to not be amused when someone as rough and tough as him spoke of a principle that was so fluid and delicate. He didn't seem out of place though. Loki exuded grace naturally, and dance just exaggerated something that was inborn for him.

You didn't tell him that he was teaching you things way too advanced and that you had a good grip of the basics by now, which was all you needed. You let him guide your body to move with his, doing moves that you couldn't even pronounce. He was a great teacher, and for the first time, dance seemed easier than it ever had to you.

“I still don't understand why you decided to help me.” You stated. “I mean, yeah, we're not trying to kill each other. But we're not exactly friends either.”

Loki sighed. “I cannot explain.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

“Because you will not understand.”

You gave him a look. “Try me.”

Loki kept staring at you, your bodies slowing to a stop. You watched the blue swirl in his eyes, suddenly aware of how close you two were. Your breath halted as your gaze didn't break. You didn't know how it happened, but then, his lips were slowly touching yours, and you were kissing back.

You kissed him over and over, short and chaste. His hands were on your waist, squeezing gently. The touch was enough to knock you back into your senses, and you pulled away abruptly.

You took two steps back, separating your bodies. You stared at him wide eyed and in shock, heart pounding in your chest.

“I have to g-go.” You stammered out, rushing to the door, hands scrambling to get it open. You knew he was calling for you. You were sure. But you couldn't hear him. The only sound you heard was the rushing in your ears.

……………………..

The ball was a huge success. Crowds of people showed up, the music was happy, drinks were flowing and laughter rose as people met and embraced each other. But the jovial mood did nothing for you, because the entire time passed as if in a trance. You couldn't stop thinking about Loki. You couldn't stop thinking about his lips or his touch as he spun you in his room. As you listened to your date tell you about himself, you couldn't help but wish it was Loki who was dancing with you.

You left as soon as you found the opening to do so. The lost bet and your date be damned. As you walked to your car in the empty parking lot, your heels clicking loudly against the concrete pavement, you thought about the kiss again, mentally kicking yourself.

Why did you pull away? Why did you run away? You had always had a thing for Loki, and here he was stating in his own way that he did too. Now, after the shock had worn off, you realized just how stupid you had been. Shaking your head, you slipped into your car, knowing exactly where you were going to go.

It was only when you were banging on Loki's bedroom door that you realized that he might have been asleep. It was past midnight, making you cringe. Stupid. You were just about to turn around when a click sounded and the door opened.

Loki was still in his day clothes, and looked like he hadn't been asleep. He looked you up and down, taking in your dress. When his eyes looked back up at you, he seemed surprised.

“Shouldn't you be somewhere else right now?” He said.

You shook your head and smiled. “No.”

Then you kissed him.

His body was rigid, obviously shocked by the suddenness of your action. But slowly, you felt his lips move with yours, hands resting on your waist and pulling you closer. Your hands cupped his jaw gently, thumbs running over his pronounced cheekbones. You opened your mouth when his tongue poked against your lips, sighing at the feeling. Your body pressed flush against his and your arms finally wrapped around his neck. Your heartbeat was going crazy, but it didn't scare you anymore. No, this was exactly what you wanted.

You didn't know how long it had been when you pulled away, eyes still closed. You couldn't help the grin that spread across your face, eyes opening to meet Loki's own. He nudged his nose with yours, making you giggle. Then, he stepped back, hands holding yours.

“You look ravishing.” He smiled. “Truly a sight.”

You felt blood rush to your face, still grinning like an idiot. Loki pulled at your hands, moving into the room. He flicked his hand and music started playing, the door closing gently behind you on its own. His smile didn't fade as he bowed slightly.

“May I have this dance?” He spoke. You nodded, letting him pull you closer as you both started moving. It felt natural, dancing with him. It felt like home.

You knew then that you were exactly where you needed to be.

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