#hmm your not supposed to be able to read the computer....but I may make an update so people can actually see it?? I hate to leave it grainy

[lilybug-02]

Patience and responsibility....that's a promise....right?

Part 27 First || Previous || Next

--Full Series--

An exorcism? In my family-friendly Deltarune? It's more likely than you may think. The backgrounds here were very interesting! Much more complex than how I usually do them (especially that computer).

Player POV:

Feral energy.

#Syke! Chara has no idea how to do sh*t with Exorcisms #in a society where it's literally seen as a blessing of some kind. It is seen as unethical! Your hurting the silly little guy :( #Why is Azzy so hesitant with this festival?? #WHAT THE HECK IS THE ANGELS LANDING DAY??? Azzy get over here- #without a soul?.....I dont know any creatures like that....plants maybe? #That is totally a knock off Mario cart and not a png I found online. DO NOT LOOK INTO THIS #Salt!? owo hehehe #I was very iffy on how much light I wanted here. I kept layering the darkness lmaoo. They kept the lights low in case Toriel woke up. #can you spot the everyman? ;) #hmm your not supposed to be able to read the computer....but I may make an update so people can actually see it?? I hate to leave it grainy #but im a little tired so thats maybe for tomorrow! #thank you all again for waiting so long! #deltarune chara timeline #deltarune chara timeline comic #bread #art #my art #chara #asriel #kris #susie

[self-shippy]

October writing prompts day 1: Ruffled hair - Reigen Arataka

Hello! I know that selfshiptember has passed now, and that I didn't participate in it (kept forgetting), but I've wanted to do a "30-31 day writing challenge" thing for years now, and I finally remembered this month! So, while it's not specifically selfship related, I will make it selfship related, because dammit I love my guys so much.

Disclaimer: I don't consider Fukuro a self-insert! I consider her a pure OC, through and through. While she is used for shipping with Reigen, she is not supposed to be another version of me. However, I still have some embarrassment around using my name, so using Fukuro it is!

It was a slow day at Spirits and Such, one of the slowest days they’ve ever had. Still, Reigen tried to keep busy. He had already sent Mob home for the day, telling him that if there was a customer in need, he could take care of the spirit in the blink of an eye (but if his “psychic abilities” were too powerful that they’d hurt the customer, then maybe Serizawa or Fukuro could take care of it). Now, it was just him and Fukuro, as Serizawa had to leave for classes earlier on.

As Reigen typed away, adding a client testimony to his website that was 100 percent accurate to what they said, he could feel someone staring at him. He tried ignoring it at first, continuing to work, but the feeling kept getting stronger and stronger. “Fukuro, I feel like someone’s staring at me,” he said. “Can you make sure that it’s not a ghost or something?”

“It’s not a ghost,” Fukuro said. Reigen felt the eyes go away, and the situation fell into place in his mind. He closed his computer and turned to face his girlfriend, who was sitting on the couch, with a grin on his face.

“Oh?” he said. “Well, if it wasn’t a ghost, it must’ve been you.” While he was talking, he could see Fukuro roll her eyes and give a warm smile. Have I teased her so much that she’s immune? he thought to himself, but continued talking. “What were you staring at me for?”

“Your hair,” Fukuro answered, very matter-of-factly. It caught Reigen off-guard.

“M… my hair?”

“It looks really fluffy today,” Fukuro continued. “I wanna play with it.”

Reigen’s approach to teasing was able to get Fukuro to blush every now and then, but somehow, her blunt statements could send all of the blood in his body to his face every single time. “You… you wanna… m… my hair?”

Fukuro let out the sweetest giggle that only flustered Reigen more. “May I?”

“Yes!” Reigen answered, almost immediately and a little too loudly. He cleared his throat, getting a hold of himself, and spoke again. “I mean, I needed a break anyway, and I think that it’d be a great way to clear my mind, so I guess you can.”

Reigen slowly sat down on the floor, leaning against the couch, and he instantly felt Fukuro’s hands ruffling his hair. “Is my hair fluffy enough for you?” Reigen asked, closing his eyes. He could hear a soft mm-hmm from Fukuro, who had started to massage Reigen’s head.

Reigen knew he didn’t have the most healthy view of himself. The time he was revealed as a fraud only made it worse. As he was sitting, leaning into Fukuro’s touch, he was chastising himself in his mind. Shouldn’t you be working? You rely so much on your employees for actual spirit exorcisms, so you should at least be doing the other jobs around here. Not that it matters. That customer didn’t even say all that. Your business is just filled with lies. Maybe you should just quit and-

Suddenly, all of Reigen’s inner thoughts were silenced by a pair of lips on the top of his head. As they slowly left, Fukuro spoke again. “I might not be able to read minds, but I can get a good feel of someone’s aura, and yours is kind of depressing right now.” She sunk her hands into Reigen’s hair again. “Remember what I said that night? ‘If you can’t love yourself, let me love you in your place’?”

Reigen sighed. “I remember,” he mumbled.

“Good!” Fukuro said. “Then just sit back and relax, and let me love you.”

Reigen nodded, letting his massage continue. He could feel his eyes closing once again, this time out of exhaustion. Don’t fall asleep, you still have work to do, his inner thoughts told him, but a voice just like Fukuro’s came to argue with him.

You do plenty of work. So much work. Let yourself relax.

It’s not honest work.

It doesn’t need to be. If it was honest work, people who fall for psychic scams would probably still have their issues and a lot less money in their pocket.

The two voices argued for a while, until Reigen’s voice finally said, Okay, fine. I’ll relax. The physical Reigen let out a happy sigh, letting himself doze off, but not before he had one last thought.

When I wake up, you’re getting a massage next.

#ahhhhh this was fun to write!!

[bloodpenned]

today i am rambling about kylar again! i had the idea of them, when they’re still too shy to talk to you face to face, they may try become an online ‘friend’ instead !!

cw: stalking, emotional manipulation

It doesn’t matter if your social media isn’t connected to your real name, they’ll find it one way or another. Maybe they hover near you while you’re definitely not using one of the library computers to procrastinate on the work you’re supposed to be doing, and catch your username that way. Regardless, Kylar isn’t going to just approach you with a simple ‘hey’. They don’t have the courage to, for one, and if the conversation bled dry they wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. Cry, probably.

They’ll analyse everything they can. What you’re posting about, who you’re following, what you’re commenting on, which posts you’re liking... Once they start, they can’t stop. Not even as their eyes start burning from the screen, not even as they start nodding off. Finding more and more little pieces of information sates a hunger they weren’t aware of yet, and simultaneously fuels it. Your typing quirks, your interests, your annoyances, your worries- You’ve never had a proper conversation, and it already feels like they’ve known you for months. 

Next, they’ll make your interests their own. Oh, you’ve been playing a certain game a lot? They’ll finish it in a time that’d qualify as a speedrun and would grind to hell and back if it’s multiplayer. (If, someday, you’d want to play with them, they’d better be prepared.) Novels are read, shows are watched, and Kylar will dive into every other relevant subject. It doesn’t matter if they wouldn’t like it otherwise. Imagining you getting excited after discovering your similar interests gives them enough of a rush to keep going. They’ll be whoever you need them to be.

Even when they do finally approach you, you won’t be able to tell it’s them. You aren’t showing your face or name either, so it doesn’t matter. It’s nervewracking. As soon as they ‘send’ they regret it, a nauseating wave of nerves slamming into them. They throw away their phone like it burns their flesh. While waiting for your response, they can’t focus on anything else, pacing in their room and jumping at every notification. When you finally do respond, and you’re nice and willing to talk, they reread the message in trembling hands. Once, twice, thrice. They take a screenshot of it too. It takes incredible restraint not to respond within seconds.

They’re overjoyed when you two hit it off! Every second of preparations had been worth it for this. The more you talk however, the more nervous they’ll get when you don’t immediately respond. Did they say something wrong? Are you talking to someone else? Are you in trouble? They’ll start rambling about something random, seperated in multiple texts. Maybe you just missed the first one! If you disappear long enough, like an entire day, and they can’t find you around town either, they’ll start spamming your phone until you respond. The best way to keep them calm would be to tell them whenever you’re gone for a while and how long for.

Using whatever coverstory they can, they’ll try to send you a file. Unless you’ve said you don’t play any, they’ll disguise it as a game you two could play together. You’d like to join? They’ll send it over right now. What, it didn’t work? Oh, that’s weird! Hmm, they’ll try again. The second time, it goes without issue. Why? The first message was just a way for them to install a keylogger onto your laptop, not that they’d tell you. Now they can read everything you search for, every message you send. Every time they check the logs, they hope to find their name mentioned, like you spilling to one of your other friends how much you like them. Just thinking about it makes their face flush.

Another one of their fantasies would be to find you in VC, alone, after having fallen asleep. Kylar would curl up and hug a pillow to their chest while listening to the soft sounds of your breathing and whatever cute noises you make while resting. (And, if they’re being self indulgent enough, imagine you mumbling their name. They’re on your mind even in your dreams, just like you appear in theirs.) If they squeeze their eyes shut, they’d almost be able to imagine you next to them.

It takes some time for Kylar to jealous enough, but if they aren’t obviously your first choice, their urge to force your other (online) friends out of the picture grows. They will get sudden influxes of hate on their accounts. Selfies will be mocked by dozens of recently made accounts, inboxes flooded with disgusting threats and false rumours spread. Like for most people, it’s even easier for Kylar to speak their mind online. None of their thoughts are pretty. They aren’t stupid enough to ever tie this back to you, though. No mention of your name will ever be made, no ‘stop talking to them and i’ll stop’. What if they’ll end up thinking you’re the one doing this for attention? You shouldn’t end up hurt because of this. Or, well, more than a little bit hurt. It’s inevitable you’ll be upset as your friends are taking breaks from or leaving social media, one by one. Aren’t you lucky to have Kylar to comfort you whenever you need them to?

Only talking to you online has never been their end goal, though. It’s just the beginning. They watch you while you’re on your phone at school, and their heart flutters when you laugh or smile at something they sent . If they weren’t certain before, having talked to you so much has solidified you in their mind as absolutely perfect. All the signs are pointing towards you loving them too. You’re having so much fun talking to them, what else could it be? All that’s left to do now, is think of a special way to reveal their identity. It’s going to be a big moment in your relationship and you’ll be so happy, they can’t just simply come out and say it. No matter how much they want to.

#kylar the loner x reader #kylar the loner #degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity x reader #dol #dol x reader

[agustdakasuga]

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 2

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

Already from day 1, this house seems to be more bustling than you expected. As you interact with each family member, you notice their different personalities and characters. 

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

When you woke up the next morning, you took 5 minutes to stare at the ceiling. Despite being a person with your job, you still weren’t a morning person. You pulled yourself out of bed, opening the curtains and heading into your bathroom. You changed into a button up shirt and a skirt. 

“Good morning, doctor. I’m here to take you down for breakfast.” A butler bowed as you opened the door.

“Morning. Thank you.” You forced a smile. You followed him downstairs, walking in the same dining room as the night before. Mentally, you groaned at the thought of the awkward meal. 

“I think I’ll skip going to the dining room. Do you have a coffee machine around here?” You asked him. The butler seemed flustered by your words. 

“But the masters request that you sit with them.” He said. 

“I will... I just need my coffee first.” You rubbed the back of your neck. You really didn’t want to go in but at the same time, you weren’t going to make this man’s life difficult. The butler bowed, gesturing in another direction and you followed him. You saw the coffee machine and let out a sigh of relief. Walking over, you began to make coffee. 

“Can I have a big glass? Filled with ice, please.” You requested. He nodded, scurrying away quickly to get you what you need. Anything to get you into that dining room as soon as possible. 

“This is a nice machine.” You noted, pouring the espresso shots over the ice and filling the rest of it with water. You stuck your metal straw into it. 

“I’ll go to the dining room. Thank you.” You told the butler, walking to the dining room yourself. 

“Good morning, doc.” Jin waved as you entered. 

“Morning.” You waved lazily, taking the same seat that you took last night. A breakfast tray was placed in front of you. There was some rice porridge and side dishes. 

“How was your sleep?” Namjoon asked. 

“It was okay.” You said with a small shrug, putting a small piece of kimchi into your mouth. You were never really a breakfast person because eating in the morning made your stomach feel weird. All you really needed was tons coffee to get you going. 

“Good morning, (y/n).” Jimin came in with a yawn, his hair all messy up and clothes all wrinkled. 

“Morning, Jimin.” You replied nonchalantly. The other boys looked at each other as you and Jimin called each other by first name. Jimin just sat down beside you, picking his chopsticks up. 

“Uh, doc?” Jungkook’s head poked into the dining room. Stopping your chewing, you turned to see him. 

“Have you started work?” He asked. 

“Good morning to you too, Jungkook sshi. And yes, hold on a sec.” You wiped your mouth, grabbing your coffee and walked over to him. Once away from the others, Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous smile. You raised an eyebrow and that was when your eyes trailed down to the end of his long sleeved shirt. 

“Show me.” You said. Jungkook pulled his sleeves up, showing his bruised and bloodied knuckles. 

“Can you patch them up?” You nodded over to your office and he followed behind you. As you pushed open the door, you turned the lights on and placed your coffee mug on the table. Jungkook stood there, blinking. 

“Umm...” 

“Sit there.” You told him as you went to wash your hands by the sink. Jungkook sat down on the chair and you grabbed your first aid kit. 

“Hold still.” You told him as you placed the antiseptic on a cotton wool, dabbing it on the scabs. Jungkook winced in pain, letting out a few curses as you continued to clean the wounds. 

“Can you be a little gentler?” He hissed. 

“I’m sure you weren’t gentle when you got these either. If you can get this hurt, this pain should be nothing.” You replied, not looking up at him. Placing the bloodied cotton onto a tray, you threw it away and washed your hands again. Sitting back down, you took the bandages out. 

“You’re done.” You fastened the gauze with metal clips. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” Jungkook asked as you retreated to keep the first aid kit. 

“Do you want me to ask?” You asked back. Jungkook pursed his lips, scrunching his nose. You chuckled at his expression, he reminded you a child.

“Then let’s just say you have a bad temper, hmm?” You teased as you sat down at your desk. Jungkook scoffed at your words but stood up. he saluted at you before he left the office. 

“I’m here.” The door slammed open. You looked up from your computer. 

“Good morning, Yoongi sshi. You seem to be in a good mood.” You said as you got up from your seat. Yoongi stood by the doorway, rolling his eyes. 

“I already told Namjoon I don’t need a babysitter.” Yoongi scowled. 

“It’s not a babysitter, Yoongi sshi. I’m just helping you with your physiotherapy. The sooner you get that shoulder moving again, the sooner we can get this bulky cast off and you’ll be as good as new. Wouldn’t you like to wear normal shirts and pants again?” You sighed as you slowly helped him to unfasten his cast but he glared at you. 

“Don’t speak like you know.” 

“I’m simply hinting that this flannel and track pants combination doesn’t really work but hey, if you think it works, then you do you.” You shrugged. Yoongi growled in annoyance, obviously not liking your job.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Geez, tough crowd.” You shook your head. Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“You’ll need to remove your shirt so I can check your wound. If the stitches have not closed, we can’t start therapy or your wounds might reopen.” You told him. 

“Fine.” You let him unbutton his shirt and lower it to see the incision. You hummed in approval at the condition of his post surgery shoulder. 

“Alright. You’re good to start.” You said and he buttoned up his shirt again. You moved to stand in front of him and as you gently held his wrist, you could feel him stiffen. Obviously, you weren’t going to call him out on his nervousness. Patients were always guarded around injuries. 

“Slowly. Relax.” You said softly and began to help him. 

“Does this hurt?” You asked. He shook his head and you continued to slowly move him through his exercises. Slowly, Yoongi began to lose the sour look on his face and just did what you told him to do. 

“That hurt!” Yoongi barked.

“Sorry, I guess that is your maximum movement for now. Hold on.” Taking a pen, you scribbled this down on your notepad. 

“Good to continue?” You asked him. He looked away but nodded his head. You continued to do some small exercises with him. You smiled mentally as you felt him start to relax. 

KNOCK KNOCK

“Who is it?” You called out. 

“Jin!” 

“I’m kind of busy at the moment. Is it important?” You said, still focused on Yoongi. Yoongi was quite surprised that you were able to focus on him even with Jin talking to you through the door but of course, he didn’t show it. You had a small frown on your face and you were biting your lower lip, showing how focused you were. 

“I noticed you didn’t really touch your breakfast so I brought you a snack.” Jin continued.

“I’m good. Not a breakfast person. Thanks though.” You replied. After that, you heard Jin’s retreating footsteps. Your eyes moved to the clock and you saw how much time has passed. 

“That’s all for today.” You gave a small smile and pulled away. Grabbing his sling, you began strapping him back. 

“You may feel a little sore but it’s normal after your first session. If it’s unbearable, I’ll give you a light painkiller.” You told him. Yoongi just stared at you. 

“Depending on how you feel after this session, we might have our next one in 5 days. If you’re too sore from today, we’ll just wait a week.” You told him as you walked him to the door. Yoongi nodded but didn’t spare you another glance before walking out. 

“You’re welcome, I guess.” You mumbled before closing the door and sitting back down. 

“(y/n)!” The door opened and Jimin came bounding in with Hoseok behind him. Hoseok placed down a tray of snacks with some drinks. 

“Busy morning?” Hoseok asked. 

“Nope.” You shook your head as you continued typing your notes for Yoongi’s physiotherapy session. Also, you had to plan the exercises for his next session with you. 

“Still, you gotta eat. So we brought snacks. We can have you fainting on us, we don’t have another doctor on standby.” Hoseok said.

“Very funny.” You said sarcastically. There were some boiled eggs, fruit and kimbap pieces on the tray. You picked up a boiled egg, taking a bite as you continued reading your screen. Then you realised that Hoseok and Jimin were still there, taking the opportunity to explore your office. Hoseok laid down on the patient bed while Jimin sat on your stool. 

“Don’t you guys have work to do?” You asked. 

“Not us. We don’t actually work as much as you think we do.” Jimin said, spinning around on your stool. 

“What about you?” Hoseok propped his head up, resting it on his palm. 

“Do my own work. Unless someone needs my help.” You replied. Namjoon’s contract with you was simple, help the boys out when they needed it. Other than that, you were free to do whatever you wanted.

“I’m bored, let’s do something!” Jimin jumped up. 

“Alright, have fun.” You replied, still looking at the screen and typing. The boys looked at each other before looking back at you. 

“You’re coming with us.” Hoseok declared. 

“No thanks.” You waved them off. They were going to protest when there was a knock on the door. Taehyung stood there, a slight frown on his face. You finally looked away from your screen and up at him. Taehyung cleared his throat, waving his phone around. 

“Namjoon hyung has been trying to contact you guys! Don’t you know how to answer your phones?” He glared. 

“What’s up, Tae?” Jimin asked. 

“Issues.” Taehyung looked at you and you rolled your eyes. This was your office anyway, not like you were eavesdropping or anything. Taehyung grabbed Hoseok and Jimin, pulling them out of the room. 

“Finally, some peace and quiet.” You sighed, standing up. You stretched your back and arms. Grabbing the stool that Jimin was previously sitting on, you sat in front of your medicine cabinet and began to check the drugs, as well as noting down what was missing from the list that you had given Namjoon. At the same time, you refilled the first aid kit. 

“Back so soon?” You spoke as you heard the door open but didn’t turn around. There being no reply, you turned to see Namjoon there. 

“Namjoon sshi? What can I help you with?” You stood up. 

“There has been an emergency at one of our work places. Do you think you could... come with us?” He asked. You blinked at him for a second before nodding your head. 

“You’re the boss.” You grabbed the first aid boxes. Slipping your white coat on, you followed him out and into the foyer. 

“She’s going?” Yoongi asked, lounging on the couch. 

“Yes.” Namjoon said, grabbed his car keys. Before you could follow, someone grabbed your wrist to stop you. You turned around to see Jin grabbing you. Namjoon stopped as well, turning to look at the oldest. 

“No. Namjoon, not on her first day. Doc, go back to your office.” Jin said sternly. This was too much drama for day 1. You didn’t know who you should listen to. Suddenly, someone poked the space between your shoulder blades behind you to get you to start walking. 

“Go.” Jungkook nodded to the hallway. You turned back to give him slight look for doing that but didn’t protest, walking back to your office. 

-

You stayed in your office the entire day. The boys all left and Yoongi had returned to his room so you decided to do some reading alone. The door opened and someone came in, making you look up. 

“Dinner?” Hoseok asked, a butler behind him with a tray. 

“Sure.” You closed the book you were reading and went to wash your hands. Hoseok sat down as the butler placed the tray down. 

“Leave us.” Hoseok waved him off. The butler bowed and left the office. You sat down and picked up your rice bowl in one hand with your chopsticks in another. Hoseok did the same. 

“Coming in.” Taehyung burst open, trudging in with heavy footsteps. He sat down on the patient bed with his own bowl in his hand. You watched him and finally noticed something. You stood up and headed over to him, placing your hand over his. Taehyung stopped chewing, eyes casting up to stare at your through his fringe. 

“What?” 

“Your hand.” You spoke softly. Taehyung put his bowl down, resting his chopsticks over as he let you grab his hand. You turned it over, showing the blisters on the palm. 

“Let me treat this?” You asked. Taehyung nodded and you grabbed your first aid kit. Squeezing some cream onto a q-tip, you dabbed it on his scabs.

“Oww...” He cringed. 

“Sorry.” You placed small band aids over the more open wounds, letting the others heal on their own with the air. 

“Keep your hands clean and you can remove the band aids tomorrow. Here, apply this too.” You handed him the tube of antiseptic cream. Taehyung held the small tube in his hands before slipping it into his pocket. He picked up his bowl to continue eating as you washed your hands. 

“You are definitely an observant one, doc.” Hoseok grinned as you sat back down to finish your dinner. 

“My job is to care for your health and wellbeing, I kinda have to be observant. If patients were always truthful with what was bothering them, a lot of people would be jobless now.” You laughed. 

“Right. Also, call me Hoseok. Just like you do with Jimin.” Hoseok said and you nodded. 

“Likewise.” You smiled. Taehyung didn’t say anything, jumping off the bed and heading out the door with his empty bowl in his hand. 

“Ignore him. We’ve all had a long day. Hence the informal dinner.” Hoseok explained. You nodded your head. You weren’t really bothered by Taehyung’s attitude. Like you’ve mentioned when you came, you’re here as an employee to the family. What their mannerisms were or how they felt about you didn’t really affect you, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your work. 

“What are you reading now?” Hoseok changed the subject. 

“It’s reading to study, actually. I’m hoping to learn new physiotherapy techniques or osteopathy.” You explained. 

“Wow, I’ll leave you to that then. Goodnight, (y/n).” Hoseok stood up, carrying the tray of empty dishes. 

“Goodnight, Hoseok.” You smiled. He smiled at you and left the room. You stretched your arms up, turning off your computer and packed up your things. The door opened and Yoongi stood there. 

“I need medicine.” He mumbled. 

“Hmm, I’m guess that you have finished the medication the doctor gave you after the surgery?” You asked as you went to your medicine cabinet. Yoongi let out a grunt in reply as you looked through and found a mildly sedating painkiller for him to take. 

“Here. It’s not as strong as the one the doctor gave but it’ll still make you a little sleepy.” You handed him the little dish with the pill and went to pour him a glass of water from the jug you had. 

“Anything else?” You asked him. Yoongi shook his head and stood up, leaving the office.

“Goodnight, Yoongi sshi!” You called out with him with a smile on your face. Gathering the rest of the things, you turned off the lights and headed out. 

“Hey, doc.” As soon as you walked out, you saw Namjoon standing there, a bottle of beer in his hand. He looked tired but forced a smile. You bowed your head slightly and gave a small wave.

“I should apologise for earlier. I’m not usually that... reckless.” He rubbed the back of his neck. 

“No worries, Namjoon sshi.” You shrugged. 

“I hope I didn’t scare you.” 

“It’s going to take quite a bit to scare me, unfortunately. So I wouldn’t sweat it.” You chuckled. Namjoon finally gave a genuine smile, laughing along with you as he nodded. You saluted to him and headed back to the direction of your room. You took a nice shower and called your mother to speak to her for a while, as well as seek some advice over some health concepts with her. 

“Are you sure you’re safe?” 

“Don’t worry, omma. I’m fine.” You sighed as you sat on your bed. 

“Alright, you’re old enough to make your own decisions. Goodnight, dear. I’ll speak to you soon.” 

“Likewise.” You replied and hung up. Standing up, you went to the window to draw the curtains before you went to bed. You saw Jungkook pacing around the gazebo, talking to Jimin who seemed disinterested as he laid on the bench like the night before. 

You hadn’t realised that they saw you staring as both stopped, meeting eyes with you. Jungkook just blinked while Jimin smirked, waving at you. 

“Goodnight.” You scoffed, even though you knew they couldn’t hear you, and closed the curtains. 

“It’s only day 1.” You massaged your temples, falling back down onto the bed. These boys were definitely going to be different from all the other families that you have worked with before. 

~~

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[contemplativepancakes]

yarn rants with dandelion

3.5k of Geralt poorly hiding the fact that he knits from his family and, in general, being an idiot, read here on AO3

Geralt slams his laptop shut as his apartment door swings open, causing Eskel to quirk an eyebrow. “Whatcha doin’?” he asks. 

“Nothing,” Geralt says in a rush. 

“Uh huh.” Eskel raises his hands. “Can’t be any weirder than the porn Lambert watches.”

Geralt grunts, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

Eskel glances at his watch. “I figured you might want help before the game.”

“I’m ordering pizza,” Geralt says. “Actually, do you want to do it? I have cleaning I still need to do before everyone else gets here.”

Eskel’s eyebrows climb higher on his forehead, and Geralt starts to sweat as he sees Eskel's skepticism. Geralt always makes a spread on game day, telling everyone he’s not going to wait two hours for delivery while they’ll be so busy. 

“Um. Okay.” Eskel stares at him for a beat before finally pulling out his phone. “What am I ordering?” 

Geralt shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

He goes to his room, shutting the door behind him and hearing Eskel’s voice as he talks to the pizza place. Geralt looks to his bed, where a half finished baby blanket is laid out, before hastily gathering it and its attached ball of yarn up and stuffing them in a basket, piled high with various colors and weights. He throws some dirty clothes from his floor on top for good measure before reemerging from his bedroom, Eskel looking at him suspiciously from his spot on the couch. 

“Sure you don’t need help with anything?” Eskel asks. 

“No, I’m, uh, I’m good.” Geralt goes to the fridge and pulls out two beers, passing one to Eskel and keeping one for himself. 

Thankfully, Eskel doesn’t say anything about his odd behavior, just watches the pregame show with him without comment until Letho arrives, followed shortly after by Lambert and Aiden. Geralt’s relieved, because then Eskel’s attention goes to their ridiculous dancing around each other instead of scrutinizing Geralt. 

After everyone has left for the night, Geralt pulls his laptop back out, settling it on the coffee table in front of him and goes to get his blanket. He spreads it across his lap as he clicks play, the sound of a cheerful voice filling his living room. 

“Hey, guys! It’s Dandelion, back with my latest yarn haul! I’ve got some awesome ones, and ones you should avoid at all costs, so watch and see which is which!”

Geralt lets himself stare for a second before he jerks himself out of the trance and looks back down while his needles click together as he starts to knit. 

Geralt lets the feeling of the yarn between his fingers soothe him. That’s why he watches these yarn reviews, after all. He hates going to the store for yarn, but he hates wasting his money on yarn that’s scratchy and uncomfortable against his skin even more. 

Needless to say, he’s grateful to Dandelion for doing all the prep work for him, and he may or may not have developed a crush on the man.  Who watches these videos and hasn’t? Geralt reasons.

Dandelion has an infectious enthusiasm, and Geralt can’t help the soft smile from spreading across his face as he listens.

Geralt keeps knitting until his skein is almost out. When he has less of a ball and more of a tangle left, he casts his eyes around for the next one before looking despairingly back at his blanket when he doesn’t find it. 

Fuck. 

He knew he should have ordered extra; he always does this to himself, but somehow he never learns. He groans as he pulls his computer onto his lap and opens up the website he orders his yarn from. He goes into his history and clicks on the link to his blanket yarn. It’s teal, velvety, and Geralt can’t stop running his fingers over it. When the page finally loads,  out of stock  blinks back at him. 

Double fuck. 

He’s never made a blanket before, and he’s drastically underestimated how much it would take. He’s going to need at least three more skeins. Yen’s baby shower is in a month and a half, and there’s no telling when the yarn is going to come back in stock. What if they discontinued it? 

There’s nothing for it; he’s going to have to go into the store. He looks at the clock. First thing tomorrow, he decides, before it gets busy. He’ll go right when they open, before the store gets noisy and filled with women who always try to draw him into conversation for some reason. 

Geralt huffs at the thought. 

- 

Geralt tugs his scarf a little tighter against his neck before he gets out of the car and heads into the store. There’s only four cars in the parking lot, so Geralt hopes he’ll be able to get in and out quickly. 

Once he’s inside, he makes a beeline for the yarn aisle, trying to hold in his noise of dismay when he sees someone already standing there. Geralt avoids eye contact and feigns interest in the brightly colored acrylic yarns at the end of the aisle. The person is right in front of the baby yarn section, and Geralt tries not to tap his foot. 

Just when Geralt is getting ready to pretend to browse other aisles while he waits, there’s movement behind him. “Lovely scarf,” a man’s voice says. “Looks very soft.”

Geralt turns around, only for his eyes to widen as he comes face to face with Dandelion. 

He’s sure something very intelligent sounding comes out of his mouth, but he doesn’t register it. 

Whatever it was makes Dandelion laugh, sounding familiar and alarmingly close when they’re not separated by a screen. Geralt glances down at Dandelion’s basket to see it piled high with yarn. 

“Nice colors you have there,” Geralt finally manages. 

Dandelion beams. “Thank you!” 

Geralt takes a closer look and realizes they’re rainbow colors. He heaves a tiny sigh. He’s a disaster. Does Dandelion think he’s flirting with him? Not that Geralt doesn’t want to be, per se, but—it’s complicated. 

“Did you make your scarf yourself? Or did a boyfriend make it for you?” Dandelion asks. 

“I made it myself,” Geralt mumbles. He’s not sure whether he’s relieved by this line of questioning or not.

“Oh?”

“No boyfriend.”

Dandelion turns another smile on him, and Geralt tries not to melt. “What are you shopping for?” 

“Oh. Um. A blanket.”

Dandelion turns back towards the shelves with a critical eye before he plucks out a chunky bright yellow and holds it out to Geralt for his inspection. Geralt runs his fingers over it absently. “Feels nice.”

“Right? I love this brand. How big of a blanket are you making?”

“It’s for a baby.”

Dandelion’s eyebrow arches in question. 

“My friend is adopting soon; I thought this would be nice,” Geralt says, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

Dandelion shifts his basket from one hand to the other. “Oh, my. That is very nice.”

Geralt grumbles as he piles more yarn than can surely be reasonable into his own basket while Dandelion eyes the shelf thoughtfully. 

Geralt finishes putting the yarn into his basket and goes to leave the aisle, but Dandelion stops him before he takes more than three steps. 

“Better get more than you think. I get what I expect to use, and then add 25 percent more.”

That makes Geralt crack a smile. “That makes an expensive hobby even worse.”

Dandelion shrugs. “The curse of being a creative.”

Geralt picks two more bundles from the shelf. “I suppose you’re right.”

Dandelion clears his throat. “Hey, what’s your name?”

Geralt answers, and Dandelion looks him up and down. “Would you like to join our yarn circle?”

“What?” Geralt asks, throat dry.

Dandelion shakes his head glumly. “Nevermind. It’s just there are so few men…”

“I’ll join,” Geralt says, before he fully thinks out his words. 

Dandelion brightens instantly. “Excellent!”

Dandelion follows him to the register, chattering the whole way, and by the time Geralt leaves the store, Dandelion has his number saved in his phone. Geralt can’t help but notice how the women are leaving him alone today, just shooting him the occasional baleful look. It’s a nice change of pace. Maybe he should run into Dandelion more often. 

“I’ll text you, okay?” Dandelion says after he’s walked with Geralt to his car. 

“Um, yeah, okay,” Geralt replies. 

He slides into his car and watches Dandelion walk to a bright yellow slug bug. He quirks a grin. It fits him. Geralt’s just turned the key in his ignition when he realizes he didn’t even get the yarn that he came for. He sighs and shuts the engine off. 

If he reemerges from the store with the yarn for the rest of his blanket in addition to two skeins of blue that remind him of Dandelion’s eyes, well, that’d be creepy, and it’s nobody’s business but his, anyway. 

-

Geralt looks down at his phone.  yarn circle at that coffee place on Main tomorrow at ten! you in?

He saves the contact in his phone, debating with himself before typing  Dandelion 🌼.

He puffs a breath through his lips. He shouldn’t be this worked up about a text. 

See you then  , he types, and goes back to make the  s  lowercase. 

“Who are you texting?” Eskel asks from his spot on the couch, setting down his own phone.

“Who are  you  texting?” Geralt retorts weakly. 

Eskel looks at him, unimpressed. “My girlfriend, dude. Did you finally get yourself one? You know, it’s kind of weird Yen’s replacing you with a baby…”

Geralt grits his teeth. “She’s not replacing me. We just had conflicting goals for the future.”

“And what, pray tell, are these goals?”

Geralt shrugs. “Not kids. I’d be a terrible dad.”

Eskel rolls his eyes. It’s a conversation they’ve hashed out many times before. “Hmm,” Eskel says pointedly, and Geralt gives him an eye roll right back. 

“Are we watching this movie or not?”

Eskel mumbles something too low for Geralt to hear. 

-

The next morning dawns bright and early. Too early for Geralt to reasonably head out to the coffee shop by the time he’s ready, so he takes the time to work on the blanket. He’s inching closer to being done, and he’s looking forward to starting something with the yellow yarn, but he’s not quite sure what he wants to make yet. 

He wonders if he’s supposed to take his blanket to this yarn circle. Do they knit? Or just talk about it? What if they gossip the whole time? Geralt doesn’t have anything juicy to contribute; he doubts they want to hear about Eskel’s latest problems with his goat yoga business. Giving customers ringworm probably isn’t the best breakfast conversation. He takes in a deep breath, trying to stop the panic spiral. 

It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. 

-

It’s not fine.

When he walks in, Dandelion is already sitting at a table, wearing a floral button down that has entirely too many buttons undone to be decent. Geralt tries not to imagine what Dandelion’s chest hair would feel like under his finger tips, if it would be coarse and wiry or smooth and silky. 

Geralt shakes his head and grunts a greeting when Dandelion waves him over. 

“Hello, hello! Find the place okay?”

“No issues,” Geralt says, pulling out a chair and settling his bag with his knitting awkwardly on the ground. 

Dandelion glances down at his phone, and whatever he sees makes his face tighten. 

“Hmm, looks like the rest of the circle isn’t going to be able to make it. Flat tire.”

Geralt arches an eyebrow at him. “Do they...need help? I could go change it.”

Dandelion mutters something to himself before looking back up at Geralt. “I think they already have that covered.”

Geralt laughs and rubs a hand on his neck. “You know, I’m going to start thinking you were just trying to get me alone.”

Dandelion returns the nervous laugh and warms his hands on his mug. “Are you going to get some coffee?” he asks. 

“Uh, yeah.” Geralt stands up before turning back to Dandelion. “What do you recommend? I don’t come places like this very often.”

“Yeah, I bet. You seem like a coffee, black kind of person.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Geralt admits. 

Dandelion’s eyes practically bug out of his head. “What do you mean you don’t drink coffee?”

“Makes me jumpy. My hands shake.”

Dandelion lets out a sharp exhale. “Wow.”

Geralt scowls. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not! Well, maybe a little. You just better get hot chocolate, then.”

“Fine. I will.”

Dandelion’s laughter when Geralt returns to the table with a mug piled high with whipped cream is infectious.

He’s not sure what comes over him, but Geralt sticks out his tongue. 

It’s not until he gets home that he realizes he never even pulled out his knitting. 

-

Dandelion starts texting him more and more, and Geralt feels vaguely guilty when he watches Dandelion’s latest video. 

He should probably tell Dandelion he watches them, but he doesn’t want it to turn into a  thing , and he certainly doesn’t read too much into it when Dandelion mentions running into a handsome stranger on his latest yarn expedition. 

He could be talking about anyone. 

Geralt finishes his blanket for Yen, and he starts to think about what his next project should be. The yellow yarn is bright and warm; silky smooth between his fingers. He starts another blanket, because why not? He’s been wanting to practice cabling, anyway. 

He brings it to the next yarn circle Dandelion invites him to, but it doesn’t get worked on, and Dandelion doesn’t say anything about where the rest of the circle is. Geralt doesn’t ask. 

Finally, four yarn circles in where no knitting is accomplished, Dandelion gives up the ghost and asks Geralt out on a date. “That’s not what we’ve been doing?” Geralt asks with a small smile. 

Dandelion shoves him in the chest, a teasing glint in his eye before his hand lingers on Geralt’s pec for a little too long. He jerks his hand back and clears his throat. “Great. I can’t wait," Geralt says.

“I’ll choose to believe that’s not sarcastic.”

Geralt pokes at him. “It’s not.”

“Hmm.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and  hmm s right back. 

-

A few weeks later finds Geralt sifting through Netflix for a movie to watch. “Hey, Dandelion!” Geralt calls from the couch, tugging a blanket up to his chin. 

Dandelion freezes from his spot just outside the living room with a bowl of popcorn in hand. 

“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt says.

“What did you just say?”

“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt repeats, more slowly this time. 

“No, no, before that.”

Geralt thinks. “Your...name?”

Dandelion blinks at him. “My name is Jaskier.”

Now Geralt is the one who’s confused. “No, it’s not?”

“Geralt, I think I know my own name.” Dandelion’s face pinches. “Wait. You watch my videos?”

Geralt steels himself for the conversation. He had been wondering if he'd just be able to take the fact that he watches them to his grave. “Yes?”

“And you didn’t think to mention this?”

“It seemed...weird," Geralt says haltingly.

Geralt’s still reeling from the revelation. He’s the world’s worst boyfriend; Dandelion has to be playing a cruel prank on him. 

“And it didn’t seem weird to you that you were watching me literally sing your praises last week?”

“I thought it was kind of sweet.”

Dand—Jaskier drags a hand down his face. “I can’t believe this.”

“How was I supposed to know that wasn’t your actual name?”

“Geralt, we have been together for a month. How do you not know my  name ?”

“It’s never come up!” Geralt says defensively. “You’re the one who never even introduced yourself. Talk about bad manners.”

Jaskier splutters, and Geralt can’t help but quirk a grin at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

Jaskier finally rallies. “We’re going to have a talk about online boundaries, but—”

“But what?”

“You’re so god damned stupid,” Jaskier says, before dragging Geralt into a kiss. 

Geralt goes without complaint. 

-

While Geralt ponders the new nature of their relationship, he finally finds a use for the blue yarn he’s been hoarding. The whole time he’s knitting the hat, he thinks of Jaskier. It’s exactly the right shade of his eyes, but Geralt doesn’t let himself contemplate it too hard. 

When he’s finished, he finds an index card and scrawls a message. He wraps up the whole thing and gives it to Jaskier the next time he sees him. 

Jaskier tears the package open and rubs the yarn between his fingers in delight. “You made this for me? No one’s ever knitted something for me before.”

“I’m glad I could remedy that,” Geralt says gruffly, shifting uncomfortably at the adoring look Jaskier is giving him. 

Jaskier notices the card and reads it before bursting into laughter. 

Sorry I didn’t know your name <3

“You’re forgiven.”

On to the next order of business, then. Geralt clears his throat. “Yen’s baby shower is next week.”

Jaskier makes a noise of polite interest, not looking up from where he’s examining the stitches in the hat. Geralt really hopes he doesn’t notice where he dropped one. 

Geralt waits for a few more seconds and sighs. Jaskier is really going to make him ask. “I was wondering if you would want to go with me.”

Jaskier tilts his head up and gives Geralt a bright smile. “Of course I would!” He pauses to think for a moment. “Are you...out to them?”

“Yes,” Geralt grumbles. “It turns out my hiding spot for my play girls when I was 16 wasn’t as clever as I thought.”

Jaskier snorts. “It never is, is it?”

-

In the days leading up to the shower, Jaskier’s anxiety starts to show, but Geralt politely doesn’t comment. They walk up to the party arm in arm, Geralt carrying both of their gift bags. Geralt had told him he didn’t need to get anything, but he had anyway, insisting that he had just happened to stumble across  the cutest onesie, Geralt! What a coincidence!

Geralt can’t help but smile as he looks over at Jaskier. Jaskier’s thumb is compulsively stroking over a spot on Geralt’s hand, and he’s even wearing the hat Geralt knitted him. Geralt’s chest feels tighter than normal. 

“Oh, so this is why you haven’t been such a grump lately?” Triss asks once they walk through the door, taking their gift bags to set on a side table. 

“I’m never grumpy,” Geralt says, and Jaskier has the audacity to laugh, so Geralt elbows him in the side. 

Triss laughs at that, too, before she goes off to find Yennefer and drags her back to them. “Geralt!” she exclaims, rubbing a hand up his arm. “I’m glad you could drag yourself away from your very important activities that you refuse to tell anyone about.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and looks over to see Jaskier staring at him curiously. 

“Ah, and this must be Dandelion!” Yen says, turning to Jaskier. 

“Eskel wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that!” Geralt hisses, but Yen just gives him a delighted smile. 

Geralt sighs as she moves on to terrorize her next guest. 

“Your friends are pretty brutal, Geralt,” Jaskier says lightly. 

“You have no idea.” 

Geralt leads Jaskier over to where Eskel and Lambert are sitting by the food table and attempts to make small talk. 

Almost immediately, Lambert asks, “What’d you get her?” 

Eskel and Geralt share an exasperated look. “Why so competitive, Lamb? Over compensating?”

Lambert scowls. “I was just curious. You’re not going to be able to top what I got her, anyway. Best uncle ever.”

“You’re not going to be an uncle,” Eskel says. 

Lambert is unconcerned. “Best uncle ever.”

Geralt crosses his arms and leans into Jaskier, trying to block out Eskel and Lambert’s bickering. 

“I hate things like this,” Geralt mutters. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Geralt. You being an unbearable softie is our little secret. I won’t breathe a word.”

Geralt grumbles. “That’s not why.” He pauses, then, “Why do I put up with you?”

“I can think of a few reasons,” Jaskier says, turning his head to press a kiss against Geralt’s temple. 

Geralt flushes at the touch and looks around, but no one is staring at them like anything out of the ordinary happened. Geralt relaxes back against him. 

He’s almost dozing off by the time Yen gets to his gift, and he only realizes it by Jaskier digging a bony elbow into his stomach. He pinches Jaskier in retribution. 

Yen opens the gift carefully, making the appropriate polite noises as she does so. 

“Isn’t it soft?” Jaskier asks as she strokes her fingers over the blanket. “Geralt chose some great yarn.”

Geralt whips his neck around to look at Jaskier so quickly he thinks he heard something pop.

“What?” 

“The yarn! It’s so nice and such a lovely color, don’t you think? Geralt did a wonderful job.”

“Geralt, you made this?” Yennefer asks incredulously, and great, her voice cracks. 

Geralt sighs and tries to accept his fate of all the merciless jokes that are going to be made in his defense. “Yes?”

“And you didn’t think to tell me this?”

“When the fuck did you learn how to do that?” Lambert asks. 

Geralt shrugs defensively. “I’ve been knitting for years.”

Everyone’s eyes are drawn to the blue cap perched on top of Jaskier’s head, and teasing grins spread over their faces. 

Geralt groans. He’s never going to hear the end of this.

As Jaskier takes his hand in his and squeezes, he thinks maybe that’s okay. 

#fluff #au #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #contemplative writing

[intergalactic-padawan]

hi! can you maybe do a cute/fluffy story of ezra surprises y/n on a date (and maybe a kiss)? I would love to see this!

Stressed out

Requested: yes!

Warnings: does being tired from work count?

A/N: ah, the random knowledge you find on the wookiepedia rabbitholes... I may have a very good understanding of cake in the galaxy ffa now. This was so nice to write, kinda different from what I usually do but I guess you'll be the judges of the final product hahaha

Pronouns of reader: she/her

.

x

.

To say that your morning had been disapointing was a serious understatement.

A few months ago, when rebel command offered you a position as an intelligenge analyst, you felt honoured at the opportunity to make a bigger difference and help even more with your big ideas.

Today, however, was just another frustrating attempt at getting to see some action, even after you gathered all the intel and designed the entire course of action. They always insisted on giving the mission to someone else.

-"nothing?" - Ezra asks as you step into the hall of the rebel base on Yavin IV, where you'd taken that frustration out on some innocent pillows from your bed moments before.

-"I'm seriously starting to loose hope, Ezra"

-"What did they say this time?"

-"The usual 'Thank you for the suggstion. We'll take it under advisement'."

-"That's an improvment! Last time they said 'no, and that's final'"

-"If you ask me, i think they're just trying to find different ways to let me down easily"

-"Well...at least you tried?" - he takes your hand trying to comfort you, and you sigh as he leads you two outside for some fresh air.

-"It feels like 'trying' is all i've been doing lately. What is it that Kanan said once? Do or do not-"

-"there is no try" - he finishes with a smile - "it was actually Master Yoda who said it first, i think?"

-"The point is, if even Jedi wisdom says I should be doing more than trying, there's got to be something i can do to get my hands dirty for once"

-"Jedi wisdom would also tell you to be patient, young one" - he puts on a serious face only to break out a grin afterwards, and you laugh at his efforts to try and cheer you up.

-"we're the same age, Ezra" - you say through giggles

-"Thank the Force. Or else I wouldn't be able to do this" - he spins you and brings your face closer, planting a kiss on your lips you're more than happy to reciprocate. For a moment, you let your worries escape as his company makes it a bit easier to relax.

It doesn't last long though, as you hear a robotic voice call from behind you:

-"Excuse me, commander bridger" - the droid you recognize as AP-5 looks like he would give you an eyeroll if he could - "but captain Syndulla requests your presence immediately at hangar 4. So if you are quite done with your lip-sucking we should leave at once."

You can't help but snort at what he computed a kiss as. 'Lip-sucking is one way to describe it, I guess'

-"Sorry, I have to go now"- Ezra doesn't know weither to laugh as well or scold the droid for interrupting like that - "but I'll see you at 8?"

-"what happens at 8?"

-"we go on a date. You need to relax a little, do something fun!"

You don't get a chance to reply, as he's being dragged away in a hurry by AP-5. Normally you'd object, saying you had too much work, but now it didn't seem like a bad idea; it's not like you had a mission to go to, anyway.

.

x

.

-"I'm not sure we're authorized to be here right now" - you whisper, but he hushes you while opening the double doors and turning on the light.

Baking.

This was his idea of a fun time.

But, if his intention was to take your mind off of work, he was certainly on the right path: you would be too worried with not getting caught by anyone at that hour (the kitchen was supposed to be closed, you see) and not burning anything you made to a crisp to even think about anything else.

-"c'mon, let's put our baking skills to the test!" - he starts going through the drawers until the supplies are finally found.

-"Ezra, you can't put to the test what you don't have"

-"Hey, speak for yourself! Chef Bridger is always ready to prepare you a delicious meal."

-"and what will chef bridger be making today, huh?"- you try, but can't stop the smile growing on your face

-"let's see, uhhh" - he skims throuhg a book until his eye lands on the dessert section -"how about... some hotcakes?"

-"hmm, lemme see" - you read rhrough the instructions when he hands you the book -"oh, so it's like a pancake. Sounds easy enough."

-"A panna cake? Those are next page, i think."

-"No, not those. Pancakes." - you smile and put the book on the counter, starting to set the ingredients aside - "it's a famous food where i come from. Though panna cakes are quite similar."

-"Huh, can't say i ever tried it. Now you'll have to make some for me" - he shoots you a sly grin and recieves paper towels on the face in return.

-"Aha, no way, mister. You're helping me" - you turn around, gesturing for him to help you with the apron.

-"Alright, since you insist," - he fumbles with it for a while, but gives you a quick smooch once he's done -"I'll stay here with you. But only if I get mine with zoochberries"

-"as you wish, sir"

-"and please, don't call me mister or sir." - he chuckes and shoves a tall chef hat, posing ridiculously for you to snort.

- "The name's Bridger. Chef Bridger"

#Chef bridger is my new favourite thing #AP-5 is learning the art of interrupting kisses from C3-PO #he walked so that threepio COULD RUN #this may be some of my best dialogue yet #panna cakes are actually a thing?? They were served at dex's diner #So are zoochberries #I did extensive research at wookiepedia #god i love star wars #ezra bridger x oc #ezra bridger fic #ezra bridger x you #ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger x y/n #ezra bridger imagine #ezra bridger #ezra bridger x reader imagine

[a-sleepy-dissapointment]

The Date ~ Spencer Reid

⚠Possible Warnings⚠ ~ Language, the tiniest bit of angst.

"Penelope can we talk?" My tone of voice giving away how serious I was.

"Yeah what's up sugar?" She turned away from her computer giving me her full attention.

"You know I care about you alot and you're my best friend. I'm just gonna be honest with you, I falling in love with someone else." I felt horrible, I never thought we would have this conversation.

"Can I be honest with you too. I'm falling for someone else as well. I was just trying to find a way to talk to you without hurting you." Penelope gives me a little sad smile.

"It's seems we just work better as friends," I let out a small chuckle. "So tell me who is the lucky man?"

Penelope smiles and her eyes light up "Do you know Kevin? From a few floors down?"

I was so happy to see her smile like that again, she's deserves so much and I'm glad she's happy again. "The computer analysis Kevin? Really I can see it."

"Yeah, he's so sweet and funny. He also understands all my computer language, no offense-"

"It's fine pen, I've never been into technology much." I smile as I watch her gush over Kevin.

"Sooo who is it that was able to tear a way into your life?" Penelope was always the one for gossip.

"Well... He's super smart. He loves to read and he's such a nerd, but it makes him happy. His smile.. it's just... amazing."

"OooOoo, are you blushing?!? Alright tell me more. What's his name? Where did you guys meet? Is he cute?"

"Okay! Okay one question at a time. We met at a library, I couldn't reach a book and he offered to get it for me. He was so awkward and sweet. He is so cute too, actually you may know him he said he works for the FBI, Spencer Reid?"

"Pretty Boy!! Oh my god! You and Spencer?!? That makes so much since. He's been so smiley for awhile always staring at his phone. Derek thought it was a girlfriend turns out it's you!" Penelope looked like she could burst from energy. "Are you gonna ask him out? We can do double dates!"

(𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕤𝕜𝕚𝕡 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 ~no idea~)

You can do this! Just text him, quit being a coward! Just ask him to dinner, if he says no it's a sign for the universe. Just grab your phone and text him. You huff and start to pace. You walk over to the coffee table. You couldn't do this. Stop being a baby just text him. You heard what Penelope said. He smiles at your texts.

"I'm just gonna do it. I'm just gonna walk over to my phone and text him! I can do this!" I start to bounce on my heels hyping myself up.

I grab my phone and unlock it, "I can do this!" Going to the contacts my thumb hovers over his name. "I can't do it!" I toss my phone on to the couch and slump into myself.

You're such a pussy. Just text him! We can do this! Get the guy.

I groan "I'm just gonna send it. If he says not, he says no."

I reach over and grab my phone once again. I click on his name and start to type the message

𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝙽𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚢?

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞?

𝙾𝚔𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎?

𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞. 𝐍𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥.

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎?

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝟕, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝?

𝙰𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗.

"Ahhhhhhhhh! Fuck yes!" I did it, and he said. I can't believe it

"Shit I have to get ready! What am I gonna wear? What am I gonna cook? Why did I do this?!"

After a quick trip to the store, I decided to make stuffed peppers, simple and easy. I start to put away the stuff I didn't need at the moment. I put the peppers in the sink and start the cooking process.

"So now I just have to wait for the timer to go off, and everything will be done." I check my phone to see the time. "Shit! How's it already 6:30? I need to change!"

I run down the hall to my room and head straight to my closet. Hmm... V-neck and plaid with ripped jeans? No, to causal... A button up and vest with dressy pants? Maybe to much... Aha just a white button up and some faded blue jeans, casual and nice.

I heard a soft and anxious knock coming from my front door breaking my out of my trance.

"Oh shit! One sec!" I call out. I didn't realize how long I've been changing.

I run down the hallway to the door. I open it to see Spencer standing there with a little awkward smile looking at the ground, his arm hidden behind his back.

"Hi, sorry I was getting dressed. Come in, dinner is almost done. " I move out of the door way letting him come in.

"It's fine, umm actually these are for you, " He held out the hand that was behind his back to show, beautiful (f/f). "I saw a flower shop on the way here, and I remember how you said they were your favorite. It's not weird that I got them for you right? Because I remembered because I have an eidetic memory- Not that I wouldn't have remembered if I didn't, I always try to take note of things you like."

"That was really sweet and thank you. I'm gonna find a glass to put them in." You walk into the kitchen with the flowers in hand. Just as you put the flowers in the water, the timer near the stove went off.

You and Spencer were sitting down at the table.

"This is really good (y/n)!" Spencer looked up from is plate to look at you and smiled.

"Thank you Spence. I honestly didn't know how it would turn out, I haven't made this in awhile." I look at him and realize his staring. Seeing how he's looking at me with such care in his eyes makes me blush.

"Can I ask you a question (y/n)?" All of the sudden there's a serious mood in the air. I nod for him to ask. "When we first met you said that you were in a relationship, but this is supposed to be a date. This isn't a secret thing, right? You aren't still with them?"

"Oh no, we broke up a week ago. We both started to fall for other people. We ended it on a good note, and it's better me and her to be just be friends. Penelope's amazing but it just didn't feel right to be in a relationship with her. Also because well... I was being to fall for you and I couldn't let her be in a one sided relationship."

"Was...?" Spencer glanced at you with a sad look.

"What?" My eyes widen in confusion.

"You said "I was falling for you" do you not.. Do you not want this to be a date?"

"What?!? No, I want this to be a date. I meant that at that point it was the beginning of me falling in love with you... But now I've completely fallen, I'm in love you Spencer. That's why I asked you out."

Spencer stared at the ground. I got out of my chair and went over to him. I took his face in my hands. As I lifted his face to look at me, I saw tears beginning to form in the corner of his eyes. You take your thumb and wipe the tear that falls "Oh, Spencer I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you cry."

Spencer mumbled something under his breath

"What did you say?" You whisper, your thumb keeps rubbing circles into his cheek.

"I love you too." A small smile and blush starts to appear on his face. "Will you kiss me?"

"Of course." You tilt his head up and lean in and connect your lips together. You both smile into the kiss, finally everything feels right.

#spencer reid #spencer x y/n #spencer x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #x reader #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #pretty boy genius

[escapewithbts]

They Find Out About Your Original Bias - Hyung Line

——————————————

Namjoon: It was the first time your boyfriend had come over to your place. The relationship was relatively new so you were pretty nervous to have him there; showing someone your personal space opened up a whole new level of vulnerability. But you felt ready to show Namjoon, and it was actually going very well so far.

“And this is my bedroom.” You stated as you walked in and let him enter ahead of you.

He strolled around slowly with his hands behind his back, taking in every detail; his eagerness to learn everything there was to know about you evident.

“It’s cozy in here,” he said looking back at you with a dimpled smile, “I like it a lot.”

You blushed and thanked him quietly. He then sauntered over to your large bookshelf full of all different genres. He ran his long finger along their spines, occasionally picking one up to inspect it.

“May I borrow this?” He questioned, holding up a particularly good one.

You nodded and leaned against the doorframe.

“Of course. You can borrow any of them.”

He nodded and tucked it under his arm, then went back to investigating.

You smiled, admiring the way his eyebrows furrowed while searching all the titles and how wide his eyes got when he found one that sparked his interest. You were so glad you found someone who loved to read as much as you did.

Suddenly, he burst out laughing, but you couldn’t see why since he had turned his back toward you.

“What about this one?” he asked, “Can I borrow it, too?”

To your horror, when he turned around he was holding up a notebook you had put together before you had met; a colorful notebook covered in pictures of your old bias.

“‘All the Reasons I Love Min Yoongi’,” he read out loud, “This sounds like a really great read!”

Your face turned beet red as you rushed over to him.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I forgot all about that!”

You attempted to grab the notebook from his grasp but he quickly held it up high, his height taking the upper hand.

“I’m serious, (y/n), I really want to read it! Maybe it will give me some inspiration!” he joked, grinning down at you as you tried to jump and take it from him.

“Joonie, nooo, oh my god, please give it back!” You demanded in between giggles.

Finally he lowered it down and you snatched it from him while you had the chance, holding it tightly against your chest. Namjoon couldn’t stop laughing.

“I-I really did forget about it...” you smiled, looking down at the ground shyly, “I’m sorry, Namjoon, I would have thrown it away...”

He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, tilting your chin up to look him in the eyes.

“Please don’t throw it away, (y/n),” he said, “It’s so cute. I love that you were a fan of ours before we met... even if you did have poor taste.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“Besides,” he went on, “I know for a fact I’m your favorite Bangtan rapper now.”

You smiled wide at him and ran a hand through his soft hair.

“Of course you are, Joonie.”

Then you stood on your tip toes and put your lips to his in a tender kiss.

~~~

Seokjin: You had spent the day showing your boyfriend Jin around your hometown, ending at the house you grew up in where your parents still lived. He had followed you through the whole tour of the home, listening to the all the anecdotes and memories you had of the things you experienced there. He loved getting a glimpse into the childhood that had shaped you into who you are as an adult. It made you two feel closer than ever.

“So that concludes the tour!” You exclaimed, throwing you hands up and entering the foyer where the tour had started. Jin looked at you quizzically and pointed at the staircase.

“But you didn’t even show me your old bedroom. Can’t I see it?”

You shook your head. “No, no that’s not interesting. It’s just a bedroom... you know, there’s a bed, dresser, desk... normal stuff.”

You waved your hands in protest, trying to convince Jin it wasn’t worth seeing. He cocked his head and squinted his eyes at you suspiciously.

“Hmm, no, I’d actually really like to see your old room,(y/n)-ah.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“Fine.”

You headed up the stairs, Jin folllowing close behind you, your heart beating faster with every step. You stopped outside the bedroom door and turned to him.

“Jinnie, I love you, you know that right?”

“Yes of course. Why are you being so weird? What is in there?”

You put your hand on his arm in reassurance.

“Just remember, I haven’t been in this room in 5 years... A lot has changed since then, okay?”

Jin knitted his eyebrows and nodded hesitantly.

Finally, you took a deep breath and opened the door. You switched the overhead light on to reveal what had made you warn Seokjin before entering; all the walls were covered in pictures and posters of your old BTS bias, none other than Kim Taehyung. You bit your lip and glanced at your boyfriend. His wide eyes scanned the whole room, his mouth open in shock.

“Oh my...” he trailed off.

Suddenly he burst out laughing his infamous windshield wiper laugh, wrinkles forming around his eyes. He brought his hand up to his mouth and slapped his knee with the other.

“Jin-ah! Stop laughing!” You demanded with a smile, hiding your embarrassed face in your hands.

He couldn’t stop. You noticed tears falling down his cheeks from laughing so hard.

“Oh my god, I have to take a picture for V-ssi!” he said, pulling out his phone from his pocket.

You quickly snatched the phone from his hand.

“Oh no absolutely not! No one is ever seeing this room ever! I’m-I’m taking all this down!”

Jin finally began to catch his breath and held up his hands. “Don’t take it down, (y/n), please,” he said, stepping toward you and pulling you into a hug, the chuckles still escaping from his chest making you shake against him, “It’s okay, it’s okay. You just found a different BTS Kim to love!”

~~~

Yoongi: You sat on the couch flipping between channels when your boyfriend walked in the living room. He had come from his studio down the hall where he had been working on music.

“Hey (y/n)?”

You glanced over at him and noticed an annoyed look on his face.

“Yes, Yoongs?”

He sighed and scratched the back of his neck.

“Can I borrow your laptop? My computer is completely fucking up and I can’t seem to fix it.”

You smiled sympathetically at him.

“Of course you can, it’s in the bedroom at the desk.”

He turned away then came back a couple minutes later holding your computer and a pair of his headphones. He plopped down next to you and propped his feet up on the coffee table before opening the laptop and recovering the files he had been working on. You let him do his thing, happy that now with a portable computer he was able to be next to you while he worked.

Some time passed when suddenly out of nowhere Yoongi burst into a fit of giggles, leaning his body away from you slightly.

“What, what? What’s so funny?” You asked, smiling at his outburst and cute gummy smile.

He waved his hand at you while still staring at the screen.

“Nothing nothing.” He snickered.

You turned your body toward him and nudged his arm.

“Come onnn Yoongi, show me.”

He covered his large grin with his hand and slowly turned the laptop so you could see it.

There on the screen, to your horror, was a file folder with the title “WWH Jin”, full of pictures of your old bias Kim Seokjin. Your face turned hot and red, and you went to close the laptop. Yoongi’s hand stopped it.

“Don’t shut it, I want to look!”

He was still laughing.

You put your head in your hands and whined through a smile, “Yoongi-ahhhh, you weren’t ever supposed to see that, I meant to delete it!”

He scrolled through the pictures while you just peaked through your fingers in shame.

“Damn, (y/n), I knew Jin was your favorite but I didn’t think you would have a whole folder dedicated to him.”

You shrugged. “It was a long time ago.... can we stop looking at it now please?”

Yoongi rubbed your shoulder.

“Sure, sure, but I’m emailing the whole folder over to Jin hyung.”

Your eyes got wide and you quickly grabbed the laptop from his grasp.

“Oh no you are not Min Yoongi!”

You closed it swiftly and put it on the coffee table in front of you. Yoongi laughed and pulled you by the shoulders until you fell into his warm chest, his arms holding you close to him.

“I’m just kidding jagiya, I would never do that to you.”

He kissed the top of your head and you looked up into his dark brown eyes.

“Just maybe make a ‘Min Suga’ folder, too, hmm?”

You laughed and snuggled more into him.

“Okay, I can do that Yoongi-ah.”

~~~

Hoseok: You were preparing dinner for you and Hoseok when you suddenly heard your Twitter notifications going off like crazy. You got mentioned a lot being in a public relationship with an idol, but this seemed excessive. You wiped your hands on the kitchen towel and unlocked your phone to see what all the fuss was about.

Your eyes widened in shock when you scrolled through the tweets about you... someone had found your old Tumblr where you had written stories about your old bias, Park Jimin. How they figured out it was you you had no idea, but you did know fans could be quite detective.

“Hobi!” You called to him, rushing into the living room where he was sitting on the couch, “Please tell me you haven’t read any of the tweets about-“ you stopped when you saw him looking at you with the biggest mischievous grin on his face.

He raised his eyebrows at you suggestively. You groaned, hiding your embarrassed face in your hands.

“‘I closed my eyes and felt Jimin’s soft plump lips on mine as he kissed me passionately...’” Jhope read out loud from the app on his phone.

You leapt towards him.

“Hobi-ah, noooo!”

He moved the phone away from your reach.

“Ohh Jimin, yes, I love your 6 pack and plump lips, ohh you’re so sexy Jimin-ah!” He teased.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, attempting to take his phone so he couldn’t read anymore. He held the phone above his head and laid back on the couch, using his other arm to pull you down on top of him.

You squealed, falling into his chest.

“So you liked Jimin-ah, huh?”

You tugged at his shirt gently, not meeting his gaze.

“Yes...” you mumbled, “I honestly totally forgot about that site and those stories.”

Hoseok kissed your nose and ran his hand through your hair.

“I think it’s cute, Jagi.”

You cocked you head at him.

“You do?”

He smiled.

“Yeah! And it just confirms my suspicions about you having a thing for dancers.” He said with a wink.

*

Masterlist

#bts #bts reactions #bts reaction #bts imagine #bts imagines #namjoon #rm #Seokjin #jin #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #Yoongi #suga #jung hoseok #jhope #Hoseok #bts jin #bts rm #bts suga #bts jhope #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts drabble #Jimin #Taehyung #Jungkook #bangtan sonyeondan #bts x reader

[ilovebeing-weird]

Have a Coffee

Chapter-3

Chapter-1 Chapter-2

So, people who like angst. There won't be much angst here. I hate it! There would be hurt/comfort at best. This is going to be a fluffy story. And if I get anything wrong in the airport scenes, it's because idk how they work. Never been to an airport.

"Flight 204, to New York, from Air France will leave soon. Passengers please board the plane. Flight 204....." The voice was heard from the speakers

"Queenie, it's our flight. Let's go." Marinette called Chloe, who was busy fighting with a person, because he didn't recognise her and it's 'ridiculous, utterly ridiculous'

"Hmph, you better keep up with the celebrities. I am the Chloe Bourgeois. The only daughter of Style Queen, Audrey Bourgeois. The person who has her own amazing business. The best friend of cocci-"

"Chlo!" Mari put her hand to prevent her from speaking more than necessary. "Our flight, let's go."

"Oh"

"Je suis désolée Monsieur." (I am sorry sir)

"C'est bon." (It's okay)

"Let's go Chloe."

"I can't wait to go to New York! It's gonna be sooo much fun! I am so excited" Adrien squealed heading towards his seat

"When are you not excited?" Kagami asked rolling her eyes at her boyfriend's behavior

"Don't put your cloudy shade over my sunlight." Adrien said dramatically, in response Kagami again rolled her eyes.

"If you think I am such a rain cloud, why are you dating me?"

"Because I love you, Duh!"

Kagami's face went as red as a tomato.

"Aww, you're blushing!"

"No, I am not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I am not."

"Yes-"

"Guys as cute as you are, can we just please move." Luka said moving to his seat

"Sorry Lukes."

"Luka-bear, window seat is mine."

"I know Bee."

"Mari, you get the aisle seat. And Lu you'll have to sit in the middle." Chloe pointed to everyone's seat

"Yes Queenie!" Marinette saluted

"Perfect, now I will sleep for hours, I need my beauty sleep after all. If I will get dark circles it will be ridi-"

"RIDICULOUS, UTTERLY RIDICULOUS" All of them yelled

"Melody, your soul mark is in English, right. Maybe you'll find your soulmate here."

"Oooooh"

"Yeah, probably. My luck is not that good though."

"Don't lose hope yet Marinette, who knows maybe something good will happen."

"Maybe"

"The flight is ready to take off, passengers please wear their seatbelts. The flight is ready to…"

"I think we should get seated." Kagami took her seat "And Mars, don't worry, you will find your soulmate soon. It's destiny."

"You're right. It's destiny."

They all got seated, and Marinette was dying from lack of her coffee.

"I need my coooooffeeeee."

"No, sleep."

"Coffeeeee."

"Mel, for the last time, Sleeeeep!! Please."

"But I don't wanna. I have work-"

"That can wait. I am sure your clients will understand. And even if they won't I am sure you're ahead of your schedule." Marinette opened her mouth to say something but closed it again, it happened for a good three minutes before she gave in.

"......fine."

"Good"

"but you are working as my mannequin later."

"If it gets you to sleep."

"Why are you obsessed with making me sleep?"

"Because I care." Came his soft reply.

~After 5 hours~

"Marinette~ Where are you?~" A maniacal voice was heard

"Marinette! Answer me before I come there! Guess I will have to teach you another lesson!"

"Why don't you just die, you stupid piece of shit?" A punch

"Why are you even alive?" A kick

"You're nothing more than a waste of space." A push and marinette fell to the ground

"Nobody ever loved you, and nobody ever will! You don't even have a soulmate!" Marinette tried to say something, deny it, tell them that she had one, but she couldn't "And your "friends" they just hang out with you for pity!"

"I can't even believe I was friends with you!"

"You're nothing more than a jealous bully!"

She tried to do something, anything! But she wasn't able to, it was almost like she was bound by an invisible force.

"I hate you! I can't believe I was besties with you! You are just a liar and a bully!" Another kick, it didn't hurt. Not more than their betrayal.

"Asshole!"

"Bitch!"

"Slut"

"Waste of time!"

She sat there, listening to them. All of their insults, she didn't care. Not anymore.

"Guess I will have to put an end to it all, huh? I feel sad, you were a good playtoy." Her da-, no Mr.Dupain said, and the knife came down, she was screaming but no sound came out

"Marinette!" Huh? She didn't die?

"Marinette!" Adrien, she recognized the voice

"Marinette!" Marinette woke up with a shock

"What happened?"

"You were screaming and thrashing in your sleep."

"Oh, I had a nightmare." Adrien wiped her tears, she'd been crying? She didn't know.

"Wanna talk about it?" No she didn't, it will make it all real. It would bring flashbacks and she would have a panic attack.

"Not really." It was good that Adrien respected her wishes and didn't push it. "How long till we reach?"

"Uh, it's been five hours, so I am guessing three hours more. You wanna eat something?"

"N-" Adrien cut her off

"You know what? You do want to. You will obviously deny it, but I am not gonna let you starve."

"Why are you all like this?"

"Like what? So caring and such good friends? You deserve it."

"I hate you, each one of you."

"Aww, you know you love us! You looove us"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Mari rolled her eyes. She knew she loved them, they knew she loved them. They all loved each other, platonically obviously. But, there was a part of her which always wondered if they hung out with her just because they pitied her. They wouldn't do that, right?

Would they?

Finally almost eight hours passed, she had eaten and now she was working on some new designs while her friends slept peacefully.

"There has been a technical issue, the flight would land right here, in Gotham. Passengers are required to please wear their seatbelts and not panic."

WHAT!? The flight had to make an abrupt stop at Gotham at all of places, the fucking CRIME CAPITAL!! Oh no, oh no, OH HELL NO! This is a disaster, this is a disaster, a disaster. Wasn't luck supposed to be on her side? Did the miraculous mean nothing?

She quickly wore her seatbelt and checked all of her friends' too before waking them up.

"Umm, guys, there has been a technical issue, the flight's gonna land now, so you may wanna wake up." It didn't work, the formal and polite option didn't work "GUYS WAKE UP! THE FLIGHT'S GONNA LAND RIGHT NOW IN GOTHAM!" That worked! It jolted awake all of them.

"Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!!"

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"In the fucking crime capital?!"

"Maybe it is destiny." Marinette gave Luka a weird look that said 'are you crazy or something?'

"Maybe you will find your soulmate here."

"Of fucking course. In the crime capital. Maybe my soulmate is a criminal too, huh?"

"Don't be such a pessimist Mari, there are good people too in Gotham."

"So any idea what we wanna do?" Marinette asked once they were out of the plane.

"Let's order a cab to New York?"

"Yeah, let's do that. Let me check the cabs… There's no cab available for where you wanna go….. " Blood drained from Adrien's face as he read that.

"So, we are forced to stay in Gotham?"

"Kinda"

"Well what should we do now?" Luka gained their attention

"Let's go shopping!!" Chloe, obviously, cheered "Before either of you deny, Kags, you need new clothes, no offense, but you really have a bad fashion sense. Luka-bae, I need you to carry my bags. Adri-kins, Kags need you. And Mari-bear, you have a good fashion choice." Luka and Adrien sighed, guess they have to carry their bags forever.

"I don't know Chlo, I really need some coffee and have to do some work. I guess I will go to a café instead." Marinette said sheepishly

"Hmm, if you say so." Marinette was genuinely surprised that she let her off the hook. Usually she would be dragged with them. "You can send us your location and we'll meet you there in two hours?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Okay, bye, don't have a overdose~"

"Bye queenie!"

"Now let's find a café with an internet connection and quiet environment." She quickly searched all the café near her, fortunately the nearest café was within walking distance.

She walked for ten minutes before she reached the café "coffee and joy" apparently this café has amazing coffee and the batfam, mostly Red Robin, always comes here. The atmosphere was good, not too crowded but enough for it to be good.

She walked inside, it was good. As soon as she walked in she was greeted by the fragrance of coffee. The circular tables had plants on the side, couples were talking and chattering. There were families enjoying themselves, and a person who was typing away on his computer, huh, he almost looks dead. Well, who was she to judge, she was sure she looked the same while she was working.

She went to order. The workers there were happy and cheery. Weird, this is Gotham. Aren't people supposed to be gloomy and annoyed here? Well, Paris, the supposedly city of love, the people there are--the ones she knows the rest she is sure are good--are evil. She is not even exaggerating.

"Hi! How can I help you today?" The worker, she learnt the name was Sam, asked her.

"Hey can I get a black coffee with…..eight espresso shots? thank you!" The worker looked shocked, obviously anyone would be shocked if someone ordered this much caffeine. She muttered something that she couldn't quite make out but it sounded like 'there's three of them' . What did she mean by three of them? Eh, whatever.

"What name should I write on the cup?"

"Marinette." Marinette, the only reminder of her fam- the people she lived with. The name that was given to her by her grandma that she loves dearly. At Least her grandparents are good people.

"Okay, why don't you wait and I will call you?"

"Sure" She went to the table in the corner. So she would not grab any attention but will be able to go to the counter easily when called.

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

Tim was having a sucky day. Firstly, he was almost late to the meeting because Bruce thought it was good to let him sleep in. Fuck you Bruce! I don't need to sleep. Then Alfred banned coffee. Why? Because apparently he had a little too much coffee. Thirdly, his brothers were still obsessed with making him sleep, he already slept last night!

"Ughhh" Tim groaned, luckily his favourite café was just around the corner. He would go and grab some coffee there and work in peace.

Upon entering the café he was greeted by the sweet fragrance of coffee. Oh, how much he loved it. If he didn't find his soulmate he would marry coffee. Bruce wouldn't have a problem, right?

"Hey Sam!" Tim greeted the always cheerful barista

"Hey Mr. Drake. Your usual?"

"Yep."

"It will be ready soon!"

Thanking her Tim made his way to his usual table and took out his laptop to go over the meeting details. After a minute or so grabbing his coffee and feeling alive again Tim started working on the documents. He was so lost in his world that he didn't realise someone coming in. Only when her name was called did he realise that.

Out of curiosity, Tim looked at her, and what he saw was something he would remember forever. That woman was beautiful. He knew that it was wrong, he knew that he had a soulmate, he knew he should wait for them wherever they are, but he also knew that he felt a connection with her, he also knew that he had to take his chance. So that's what he'll do.

Waiting for a while to gather some courage and thinking about what to say. He started to make his way to her. Only to be stopped by her sad expression, she was angry, mostly sad looking at her laptop. Huh, looks like she's not having a great day. He decided that he will go to her with coffee, after all what was something that coffee couldn't solve. He ordered two coffees for them, he knew that her order was the same as his.

He took a deep breath and made his way across the café to her and offered her the beverage in his hand. "Having a rough day?"

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

Marinette was relieved that she got her coffee. She hasn't had any since morning. Why does the world have to be sooo unfair to her!? Opening her laptop she found some new commissions…..and some emails from her old class. Can they just suck it and move on? How childish can anyone be.

She knows that she shouldn't be but she was sad looking at it. She was just about to delete them when a voice startled her.

"Having a rough day? Have a coffee, It will make it better." Marinette being Marinette jumped at the voice.

"Ahh! You scared me! Wait a second….. You are my soulmate! Thanks for the coffee by the way." As soon as their hands touched there was a golden glow around them, a welcoming glow.

"Hey, soulmate. I am Timothy Drake-Wayne please call me Tim."

"Hey Tim, I am Marinette. Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine, Marinette." Tim kissed her knuckles to which she responded by blushing.

@legodetectivemalsblog

#have a coffee #timinette #timari #soulmate au #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #tim drake #weird writings

[dandylion240]

All of the story asks please :) (Character specific ones I'd say up to you, but would love to have them be Jonah/Cecil or my usual favorites ;) )

what’s the last screenshot you’ve taken for your story?

2. describe your story in three words or less

Family, Angst, Drama

3. describe (insert character here) in three words or less

Jonah - unassuming, brave sensitive

Cecil - insightful, supportive, caring

Evan - self-sacrificing, helpful, innocent

Jayden - protective, stubborn, active

4. how did you choose the name of your story?

I try to use titles that is kind of thematic of the story I'm writing. It takes me forever to come up with a name and sometimes the name changes multiple times before it gets posted.

5. how do you choose your characters’ names?

It depends upon the story. For my Reagan family stories (TS4) I use the parents names. It's kind of a family tradition. For instance Jonah/Ethan. All boys will start with E and the girls will start with J. In my TS3 stories I sometimes choose a theme for names and use that. Like next gen of NSQL the theme is nature.

6. how long have you been working on your story for?

Well it depends on the story. With my Reagans I started writing for them in the summer of 2019. For my TS3 legacies I started in 2014 I think.

7. whats the biggest risk you’ve taken with your story? did it pay off?

I think my biggest risk is my current story Into the Depths of Darkness. I wasn't sure I could pull it off and the story has changed from what I thought it would be and the hero of the story has changed from first conception. I'm happy that Jonah is the hero of his own story and it's given him so much character growth and he's becoming more of what I always invisioned him being. I owe a lot to @mahvaladara to how the story has progressed and the ideas she has contributed. It wouldn't be what it is without her.

8. what about your story are you proud of?

There are many things I'm proud. Mostly that I continue writing even though sometimes it feels like I'm ripping my heart out to write some of things I write about and also that I don't quit even when it's hard.

9. what about your story are you looking to improve on?

There's always things that can be improved. Writing is a process that the more you do it the more you learn and get better. I could say pictures but I'll admit the storytelling will always come first over pretty pics and sometimes I just can't find the right pose to fit. Maybe one day I'll be able to make my own poses but I'm not there yet.

10. is your story fully planned or are you still working things out? is there a definitive end?

It's a work in progress. I start writing from an outline of how I think the story should go but it's loose enough for me to rearrange things or remove/add things to it as the story evolves.

11. why have you decided to tell this story? are there any messages or meanings within it?

I just like to write. If there's any message in my stories it's that family is important and no matter awful things you might face in life if you have people who love and care for you that you can endure it. But mostly that you can rise above your circumstances and still be a healthy, functioning person despite everything even if you have a mental or health problems, you can still be happy, loved.

12. do you actually play the game or do you just use it as a storytelling medium?

It's mostly a storytelling medium for me. I do play it sometimes but tbh though TS4 lacks so much depth and gameplay I find it boring after a while. I've gotten into playing TS3 again now that I have a better computer that it doesn't lag as much.

13. from basic planning to a finished post, how long does that take you?

I don't honestly know. I've never stopped to consider how long it takes.

14. do you have any regrets about your story so far? if you could go back in time, how would you fix these?

No I don't think I have any real regrets. Sure I go back and think I could have written that better or edited that picture more but for the most part I'm happy with my stories.

15. what have been the highlights of creating your story?

The highlights have always been the people who become involved in my characters lives.

16. what about the process do you enjoy?

Seeing my stories come to life. How my characters change as the story progresses.

17. what about the process do you hate?

When I struggle to write a scene and it doesn't flow the way it should. It's generally because I'm coming at it wrong. Once I figure that out than it flows. Sometimes the seeming lack of interest in what I write from the readers is hard to overcome and I feel like quitting. But the few who comment I thank because that always revs up my motivation to continue.

18. choose a song that reminds you of your story

Just one song....that's really difficult say. There are so many songs out that fit my current story. This song fits Into the Depths of Darkness because where there's a lot of darkness there's still hope to be found.

19. choose a song that reminds you of (insert character here)

Ok I'll do this for Jonah - Fight Song

20. choose your favourite shot from your story so far

21. choose your least favourite shot so far

22. choose a favourite character from your story so far

Jonah is my baby. It may not show it by I love him.

23. choose your least favourite character so far

Hmm this is difficult because there were characters I created purely to be hated. Currently my least favorite is Ethan but it's not because I don't love him but it's because of his roll in the story.

24. are there any characters who remind you of yourself?

Not really. There are certain aspects of me in all my characters or people I know in them but none are an incert of myself.

25. what inspirations have you drawn on for your story?

There are so many. I draw inspiration from people around me. From movies and TV shows I watch. The books I read. Sometimes from the people I interact with on here mainly @izayoichan @mahvaladara @jenpants and @legendofsim They've let me bounce ideas off of them and their input helps me in my stories.

26. have other sim stories inspired you?

Yes they have. See above. All their stories have inspired me.

27. what genres would you describe your story as?

Modern fantasy drama??? I have no idea if that's a thing but it best describes what I write.

28. if you could reproduce your story in another medium (movie, novel, comic, etc.) what would you choose and why?

Hmm I'd say novel or maybe series. A movie would be cool too.

29. what would your story’s rating be? (G, PG, M etc.)

Hmm interesting I'd like to say its somewhere between PG-13 and mature just because of some of the topics.

30. if you were leaving simblr and had to choose another creator to continue the story for you, who would you ask?

I think either @izayoichan or @mahvaladara for my TS4 stories since they've helped me write some of them and they would keep true to the characters as they love them as much as I do.

For my TS3 stories I would say @legendofsim since for a long time our stories had been intertwined.

31. drop some random trivia about your story

Ethan was supposed to die trying to save Jonah

Caiden was supposed to have played the part of the hero instead of Jonah

Cory was going to heal Jonah's broken heart over the of Ethan.

But as they say the story changed...

32. give a light spoiler

Someone will be heartbroken at the end of the story.

33. recommend another creator’s story!

There are so many: @izayoichan @mahvaladara @nikatyler @justkeeponsimming @amuhav @legendofsim @simlit @lilyshadowwriter @wannabecatwriter

Please don't be upset if you weren't listed on here. I love everyone I follow but these are my favorites. I have others but some aren't active anymore and stuck with the ones I'm always waiting for the next installment, even if I'm behind on a few of them.

Thank you for asking!

#storyteller asks

[sapphire374]

Soy Sol: Chapter 12 (I'll Be There Through Every Step)

Wattpad Link

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.8 / Ch.9 / Ch.10 / Ch.11 / Ch.13 / Ch.14 / Ch.15 / Ch.16 / Ch.17

Ámbar runs into her apartment with tears falling on her face. She tries to escape into her bedroom, but Simón catches her before she’s able to. “Ámbar, what happened? Why are you crying?” Simón guides her to the couch and she cries on his shoulder in the comfort of his arms. Tears smearing the mascara all over her face. “Remember when I told you I had a meeting with some students from Law school. Well, the truth is I wasn’t going to meet for any school project, I went to go talk to my biological mom,” Ámbar tells Simón. “Look I didn’t mean to lie; I just didn’t feel like hearing anyone tell me how bad of an idea it was. I felt like I owed that moment to myself, to discover more who I am before I married you.”

“Ámbar I would’ve never stopped you and you know I always support you on every decision and step you make. Us getting married means that we have to trust each other. You have to trust me that I’ll always be here for you no matter what. I know it’s tough, to try to discover more who you are. That happened when Luna was trying to discover from who and where she came from.” Ámbar nods and wipes away her tears from the tissue Simón gave her. “It didn’t even matter anyways since part of me doesn’t believe her but then the other part of me wants to. It made sense everything she said but still hurts, a lot,” Simón holds her tight as she tells him everything Sylvania told her.

“Originally I was considering on meeting Sharon as well to have some questions answered but I don’t want to end up feeling hurt again and in tears like today. Maybe I should just leave everything in the past… I don’t know,” Ámbar says. “I know this can be very hard for you but if that’s what you want, I think it’s a good idea, to speak to Sharon even just a little if you’re ready. Maybe it can tie some loose ends, and you can finally have some of those questions answered. That’s the least you deserve.” Ámbar stares to her lap and thinks about it for a second. Simón gently holds her hand and lets her know, “I will always be here, whether you decide to go talk to Sharon or not. I’ll be here every step of the way.” Ámbar holds out her arms and gives Simón a tight hug. She kisses him on the cheek and lays her gentle face on his shoulders again.

Jam and Roller

It’s the next morning and the whole gang is huddled around Delfi as she prepares their skating video. The nerves crowd the air as she finishes the project on her computer. “Done! It’s ready you guys,” she exclaims. Some are anxiously sipping their shakes while others are tightly holding on to their companions. Pedro stares in awe and shows how proud he is of his soulmate and the whole gang. “You guys this is just the first step into making this dream, the Jam and Roller, stay alive and come true. You all should be proud because we have finally came together, worked hard and did an awesome skating routine. We got this,” Luna announces. “On ready, one, two, three… Jam and Roller!!” the gang all chant.

Delfi presses the button on her computer and it’s official, the video has been sent to the competition’s organization. After sharing a group hug with Juliana, they resume to their posts. “Since today is a special day in which we sent the video, I’m willing to give you guys this day off. Enjoy it, you all truly deserve it after how hard you guys have been working,” Juliana lets the team know at the rink. Gastón heads over to where Matteo is at and says, “hmm well someone seems to be saved by the bell.”

“You’re right, speaking of which I’m so excited to finally sing that song, I’ve been working on for Luna. I spent all night practicing it hoping she forgives me, and everything can get back to normal. I hope this plan works,” Matteo chuckles. “Don’t worry amigo, everything will be fine and lately I’ve been seeing her in a much happier mood. I think she even probably forgot about the arguments and such,” Gastón suggests. “Yeah, I hope so.”

Luna rolls by Matteo and he doesn’t help but stare at her. “So, are you going to talk to her, or should I have to do it for you?” Gastón jokes around. Matteo takes his advice and heads to Luna where she is taking off her skates. “Hey Chica Delivery, are you getting ready for the concert I’m having today,” Matteo asks. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Luna giggles. “Glad you said that cause I may or may not have a surprise all planned out,” Matteo comments. Luna gasps and couldn’t help her excitement cloud the air. “Chico Fresa, I didn’t know you were the mysterious type?” Luna and Matteo begin to laugh in synchronicity. “Well, I guess there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me then.” Matteo’s phone begins to buzz. He picks it up and answers the phone call.

Once he has hung up, he lets Luna know he has to leave. “I’m sorry but I have to go now to start preparing for the concert. I would love to continue this conversation, but the surprise won’t reveal itself on its own hmm,” Matteo teases. Nina rushes to Luna after seeing him slip away. “Luna, what was all that giggling?” Nina whispers. “A special moment that truly felt like it hasn’t happened in ages,” Luna responds.

Jazmín and Delfi both sit together on the couch as they discuss their plans on how they’ll find out who the secret admirer is. “So, I was thinking we can look at all the comments of your recent video and maybe find some clues as to who the secret admirer is. I feel like they probably must have known you from your videos I’m assuming,” Delfi states. “Of course, they know me from my videos, I am the most popular on the web. Who honestly wouldn’t want to date me?” Jazmín insists.

A delivery man holding a large bouquet of flowers enters the Jam and Roller and hands them to Jazmín. Delfi stares in shock. Jazmín pulls out the card and reads “Mi amor, I chose these flowers because they represent the beautiful tones of your eyes and bring out your inner sparkle. I hope these make you feel the happiness I feel just seeing you.” Jazmín holds the card close to her chest and doesn’t help but cheer. “Oh my Jazmin, this person is head over heels in love with you,” Delfi says. “I know! Whoever this is, he already sounds so charming.” Delfi is beyond excited for Jazmín but can’t help but feel a little worried for her friend since they still don’t know who this person is. Why are they sending them anonymously? She finds this a little fishy.

Sharon’s Apartment

Ámbar knocks on the door, she shakily turns the knob when she hears the door unlock from the other side. “Come in,” Sharon states while her personal caretaker guides Ámbar to the dining room as Simón follows her in. “Don’t be shy and take a seat.” Ámbar and Simón pull two chairs and sit down in response to Sharon. She slowly takes a sip from her tea as the room fills with silence. Ámbar is beginning to have flashbacks of all the lonely nights she would have being with Sharon.

“It is a pleasure getting to see you again Ámbar, you hadn’t visited in 7 months. I was beginning to worry that maybe you have forgotten about me,” Sharon admitted. “No, it wasn’t like that, I have been just so busy with law school and managing the Jam and Roller. That’s all,” Ámbar replies. “You’ve always been busy, that’s never changed. I suppose that you’re here but not only to just meet me or stop by to say hello because you would’ve done that before. I can sense you’re here for something,” Sharon remarked. Ámbar turns her eyes towards Simón as a sign for help. “Ms. Benson, I don’t mean to intrude but Ámbar has decided to come here to ask about her past,” Simón answers. “I was wondering what made you decide to adopt me?” Ámbar asks.

Sharon takes a deep breath. “In the past, I had always wanted a kid, but it never seemed like the right time. When I heard Sylvania was planning to give her child up for adoption but didn’t know who would be fitting to be the parent of her baby, that’s when I saw it as a sign of fate. It was meant for me to be your mom,” Sharon takes another sip of her tea. “I’m a little surprised since you never seemed like the ‘loving children’ type. No offense or disrespect,” Ámbar comments. “You know I was a lot different before the fire, after that everything felt a lot stressful with life in general.” Sharon reaches out to hold Ámbar’s hand and feels the ring on Ámbar’s finger.

“You’re engaged?” Sharon questions. “Yes,” Ámbar responds. “And you never told me?!” Sharon shows her dismay and stays silent. “Well, it was pretty recent, I was planning to tell you I was just not sure when or how. It’s complicated and you know that plus you never liked Simon anyways,” Ámbar said. “I know we’ve never had such a close relationship but just know I’ll forever regret not being that loving caring parent you deserved to have. I know it’s too late, but I still care about you and love you.” Sharon begins to cry and tries to wipe her tears with her fingers. “I know madrina, I know, and I love you too mom.” Ámbar heads out with Simón since she thinks it’s for the best.

Benson Valente Mansion

Monica is seen gathering some tulle and fabric in the living room. She hears the door unlock and it’s Ámbar and Simón. “Oh, hello guys! I’ve already begun preparing some of the table arrangements for the wedding reception,” Monica states gleefully. Ámbar looks a little flushed and just nods trying to avoid crying. “Mija, what’s the matter? Is everything okay?” Monica seems concerned for Ámbar. When she notices Ámbar doesn’t say anything, she does what she knows best, she hugs her. Ámbar hugs her back.

“Well, I think I should leave you two in private,” Simón whispers to Monica. Simón leaves to the kitchen when they head to the couch as Monica gives Ambar the tissue box. “Have you ever felt empty inside? Feeling as if everyone you knew as a child and grew up lied to you. That your own story held in the hands of someone else. I feel like….. me trying to uncover the pieces are as if their edges are shattered and there’s no way on putting the puzzle together. Nevermind, this all might sound very silly to you,” Ámbar sniffed. Monica thinks for a little bit. “It’s not silly at all Ámbar, it’s normal to feel this way not being able to know your own story of how your life began. But just know it doesn’t make you who you are entirely. For example, when I look at you, I don’t see the girl who was manipulated by her madrina. I see a strong-minded, hardworking, caring young girl beside me who does an excellent job managing the Jam and Roller while attending Law school. Not anyone can pull off all those moves at once, and you do it so effortlessly. You may not know the full story and only some parts of it, but you are not your mother’s mistakes. In fact, I’m proud of you. After everything you went through, you still managed to seek the right path in life, and it worked. You gave it a second chance, you had what’s so important to have, and that is hope. So, when you walk down the aisle wondering ‘who am I,’ you’re Ámbar Smith, the one who overcame it all.”

Ámbar turns to Monica sobbing, but this time with a huge smile on her face, even showing her teeth. “How do you do it?” Ámbar asks. Monica looks at Ámbar with a confused expression. “How do you know exactly what to say at the right time?” Monica smiles back giggling alongside Ámbar. They stay wrapped in each other’s arms on the couch. Ámbar starts glancing at all the beautifully tied table arrangements for her wedding, how you can tell the amount of effort that was put in each one of them. That’s when it hits her.

When they break away from each other’s arms, Ámbar faces Monica. “Can you be the one to walk me down the aisle? You have always been there for me whenever I needed you these past couple of years and…. I don’t know how to say this, but you have showed me how it feels like having a mom. Why wouldn’t I want my mom there?” Ámbar starts tearing up again. “It would be an honor to attend it, and it truly warms my heart hearing you say that. Ever since our family reunited with you and Alfredo, it’s felt much bigger and cozier. I’ve got two daughters, Luna and you. I wouldn’t miss your dress fitting or wedding for the world.” They begin to hug again. Near one of the walls close to the living room, there’s Simón who couldn’t help but smile while spying on them. It makes him feel ecstatic knowing that Ámbar does feel like she has a family now and is not alone, not ever again.

Matteo’s Concert

All of Matteo’s fans begin to huddle up near the pit of the stage. Everyone is beyond excited to hear his collaboration with Viviana on stage for the very first time. Luna enters with Nina. Nina stays holding Luna’s arm, trying not to get dragged away by the crowd of people nearby. “So Luna, how have you been feeling about the whole thing?” Luna turns towards Nina and says, “A little conflicted not going to lie, but I’m here to support Matteo. I’m still a little bit upset at what he did calling me jealous and standing me up on our date, but I think I’ve put it past us. Today is a special day for him and I shall be here for that.” Nina nods in response.

Gastón rushes over to Matteo backstage. “Everything okay amigo?” Matteo picks up his guitar and nervously answers, “Yes. Once Viviana and I stop singing, you turn off the lights and have only the spotlight facing me. Just like old times when I had sang to her Alla Voy. I will sing this song I wrote for her, and it shall feel like we’re the only ones in the room. This night shall be perfect for her.” Gastón approaches him and smiles while patting him on the back. “Don’t worry you got this!”

The crowd starts chanting when the lights turn on as Viviana and Matteo approach the stage. They begin singing into their mics, Viviana doesn’t stop staring at him while Matteo’s eyes are fixated on Luna. He is in awe of how beautiful she looks tonight, even though he feels like Luna looks beautiful all the time.

Luna starts dancing along to the song with Nina, they don’t stop giggling and having a great time. Viviana starts noticing who Matteo can’t keep his eyes off of. She grows green with envy. She never liked Luna and was always hoping he would break up with her. She tries to get really close to him, even at times trying to have a sharing mic moment. Viviana throughout the song doesn’t stop making eye contact with Matteo and keeping him close. When she sees that this doesn’t Luna, or him she reacts quickly. Once the song ends, Viviana standing next to Matteo grabs his neck towards her and kisses him. She has her hand caress his cheek. The fans are screaming with excitement.

As for Luna, she’s speechless. It feels like the world has stopped and she has lost track of her surroundings. When Matteo pushes Viviana off him, he turns and sees Luna running out of the venue crying.

#soy luna #soy sol #soy sol universe #soy luna fanfic #lutteo #simbar #soy luna fanfiction #disney soy luna #sl fanfic #sl fanfiction #soy luna wattpad #sl wattpad #gastina #pelfi #yamiro #jico #karol sevilla #Valentina zenere #Soy Luna one shot #Soy Luna one shots

[wordsfromthesol]

Character Model

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: You may or may not have been following Jason Todd around a bookstore so you could model one of your story characters after him. He may or may not have noticed. Warnings: Language? Word Count: 2k A/N: Just a story from my drafts folder. Sorry I haven’t been able to write any of the wonderful requests I have sitting in my inbox...work has been running me ragged. But they are coming! Love you all 💛

You had no idea where this man came from, but he was perfect. Exactly what you envisioned the assassin prince in your newest story to look like, and he just waltzed into the bookstore. First, you tried to ignore him…after all it would be kind of creepy to stare at this man while sketching him and jotting down little details about the way he walks, talks, runs his fingers through his hair. The more you thought about it, the more you couldn’t get him out of your mind. As you watched his mannerisms, he just became more perfect. Fuck it. You got up from your seat and moved closer to him, pretending to look at the books on the shelf. It wasn’t a very good cover story, as it was quite obvious you were drawing him. I will never see this man again, who cares.

You were never the best artist, but the image got the message across. Once it was complete, you continued following him awkwardly around the store jotting down notes. His interest in certain books, the way he seemed to survey the bookstore…Maybe he is an assassin prince? Those didn’t actually exist right? You ignored those thoughts as you commented on his gait. Wrapped up in your descriptions, you didn’t realize he was now watching you. That is until you looked up again and saw his steel blue eyes staring into yours.

“What are you profiling me for, doll?”

You spun around, hoping he wasn’t talking to you. No such luck. “Oh, uhm, I wasn’t?”

“Hmm, sure does look like it. Can I see that sketch?”

“Heh, you saw that?” He raised his eyebrows. Of course he saw it, Y/N, you are being creepy. “Okay, I swear I’m not stalking you! I just…gosh this is going to sound so stupid…you look exactly like how I envisioned this character in my head…for a story.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Some people would beg to differ, but I guess technically.”

“So what’s the character then?”

Okay now he’s going to be offended. “Uhm…an assassin? But he’s also like prince to the guild thing. It’s kind of complicated.”

“So I look like an assassin?”

“Kind of…?” To your surprise the man chuckled.

“Not gunna lie, I’ve been called so much worse.”

Why are you so awkward? “Well sorry for being creepy…” You turned to leave and didn’t notice the man following you until you nearly slammed the front door in his face.

“I think I deserve to see that sketch after you followed me around for an hour AND tried to knock me out with a door.”

“Oh my go – I’m so sorry, I figured I’d thoroughly…embarrassed myself, so I left…why are you following me?”

“Thought I’d return the favor?” You gave him a nervous smile, the thought of this very large strange man walking you home, at night, in Gotham, did not provide you with much peace. “Relax, you look just like a character I imagined…” He quipped, trying to ease your obvious discomfort.

“Not funny.”

“Really though, it’s dark and getting late and this is Gotham.” You eyed him suspiciously, this still probably wasn’t the smartest move on your part, but you relented and motioned for him to follow.

“Don’t make fun of it, I’m a writer not an artist. This is purely for research.” You commented as you passed him the sheet of notebook paper.

“It looks good, I especially like all the little notes about me. Ruggedly handsome? Piercing steel blue eyes?”

Shit. I forgot about those. “Uhm, yeah.” You tried to snatch the paper back, but he could easily keep it from you. “It was research!” Huffing, you remember some of the descriptions were not very complimentary. Watching his eyes scan the page, you tried to explain. “Some of them are just for the character, don’t take it…”

“No, they are all…pretty spot on I’d say.” His voice turned solemn, almost sad, as he passed the paper back to you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah,” he waved it off, picking back up his nonchalant timbre.

The two of you mindless chatted about your favorite books until you arrived at your apartment building.

“Well, this is me. Thanks again…” You had just realized the two of you never exchanged names. “My name’s Y/N, by the way.”

“Jason. I’ll see you around. Try not to stalk anyone else.”

“No promises!” You called out as you entered the apartment.

**

It had been nearly a week, and honestly you didn’t expect to see the stranger again. After all, how would you? No numbers or last names were exchanged. Yet there he was, sitting across from you at the coffee shop, face buried in a book. This man is actually reading in a coffee shop. He looked so out of place compared to all the usual suspects. It would be creepy if I remembered him, right? I’m just going to ignore him. Your plan didn’t last long, as Jason soon came up and sat beside you.

“Stalking anyone new today?”

“Oh, I uhm…no. Writing about you actually…the character! The character not you.” God, you’re so smooth. You thought as you brought your hand up to cover your face.

“So how is assassin me doing today?”

“Honestly? You’re kind of being a bitch. Like how am I supposed to know how you will react if you are refusing to tell me?”

“Uhm…isn’t that the part you’re supposed to make up?”

“No, I made up you…the assassin…now you’re…they’re supposed to tell me what they want to do.”

“Uh huh. Right. You know they aren’t real right? Like I’m not actually a killer prince.”

“Heh, yeah I know. Wouldn’t that be cool though?”

“I just think you’d be assassinated.”

“Ohh, harsh. Though, sadly, I would just be murdered.”

“No, I had it right.” Jason gave you a smirk as he got up from the table and walked out the door.

Did that actually just happen? You quickly gathered your things and threw them into your computer bag, racing after him. “WAIT!” You noticed he had stopped just outside the door and well before you called after him.

“Walking home?”

“Uhm, yeah. Can I ask you some questions first?”

“How about you can ask me questions until we get to your apartment building?”

“Deal.”

It was a short ten-minute walk, but you picked his brain. Giving him situations to see how he would react. This was way easier than you rewriting the scene, or going back and forth for hours before giving up and not writing anything at all. In fact, his reactions were eerily similar to that of your murderous character. You weren’t accidentally copying his life, right?

**

The next time you saw him, you were out with friends at some random bar. He sat there stoically on the bar stool, staring into space. This was so…like if your character had just murdered someone. No, he couldn’t have. Probably just a bad day. You excused yourself from the group of friends and slide in to the stool besides Jason.

“So, Jason, bad day?”

“Oh, Y/N. I didn’t…you’re here.”

“Yeah, I try to have a life sometimes. Albeit very rarely.”

“Hm, well, don’t let me keep you.”

“That’s alright, they are content without me.” You pointed towards a group of people. “And plus, you look like you need some company.”

“…”

“Man, riveting stuff. So, what are you drinking?”

“Whiskey.”

“Just…straight? Alright, spill. Remember I know you.”

“I…just had a bad day at work. I’ll get over it.”

“I’m sure whatever happened wasn’t your fault. Some situations are inevitable.”

“I guess.”

“So what do you do, exactly?”

A sad, solemn smile laced his lips as he got up from the bar. “Another time. Get home safe, Y/N.”

“That wasn’t an answer…” you mumbled as you made your way back to your friends.

**

Just the next day, you were mindless going aisle by aisle in the grocery store, when you feel someone slightly bump into you. You whipped your head around to see the culprit, when what you saw was Jason with a big grin on his face.

“I’m starting to think you never stopped stalking me.”

“If anything, you’re stalking me. This is the closest grocery to my apartment…which you know the address of. I have no clue where you live.”

“Fair enough.” He looked down at the assorted items in your cart, “got a plan for those?”

“Honestly, my version of cooking is throwing some things in a pan and hoping for the best.”

“Hm, well, I could come over and show you some things?”

“Jason, I don’t know your middle or last name, are you offering to cook for me?”

“Peter Todd, and yes, Y/N  Y/M/N  Y/L/N, I am.”

You looked at him with surprise, “See, now who’s stalking who.”

He started to trail off with a smirk, “I’ll be at yours at 6!”

Did that seriously just happen? How did he know my name? Once you were done you raced home to clean. You were so not prepared for guests, with your scratch paper and sticky notes strewn about the apartment. As soon as the clock struck 6, you heard a knock at the door.

**

Jason tried to show you what he’s doing in the kitchen, but you couldn’t care less. You sat on the counter, pretending to listen to the instructions, while sipping on the wine in your hand.

“You’re not retaining any of this, are you?”

“Hmm, not really. But I’m quite enjoying watching you do it.” You motioned for him to continue preparing the meal.

“Are you just trying to get a free meal?”

“Well, technically I paid for the food, I’m just after the free chef…that was…I meant like after the preparation of the food…not after you…” Shut up Y/N, you are making it worse.

“That’s alright, I’m just after the free writer.” He looked over his shoulder and winked at you before returning to the stove.

“Does cooking always take this long? It’s nearly 7!” You were trying to quickly change the subject and forget the embarrassment you had just endured.

“Calm down, doll, it’s nearly ready. Grab some plates.” You hopped off the counter and took two plates down from the cabinet, placing them next to the stove before sitting at your kitchen island patiently waiting to be served food.

**

“Okay, this is amazing. MAYBE worth the hour wait.”

“Oh well MAYBE I’ll take it back then.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Though both of your plates had been empty for hours, and the mess in the kitchen was staring you in the face, neither of you could seem to move. You found anything and everything to talk about, well almost everything. For some reason he still wouldn’t tell you what he did for a living. Which annoyed you because whatever it was clearly took its toll.

“Okay, fine! Don’t tell me, some big ole secret. I’m beginning to think you actually are an assassin prince and your consciousness just went into mine…so now you’re a character in my book.”

“I guess I’ll just have to read it and let you know.”

You side-eyed him, “You can read it when I find out what you do?” You knew at this point there was no hope in getting an answer.

“Tempting. Perhaps you can tempt me further Wednesday night.” Jason rose from the stool and traipsed over to the door. You quickly followed him, mainly out of sheer confusion.

“What’s Wednesday night?”

“Well, I figure those leftovers will last about two days. Can’t leave you without your free chef.” At this point his face was inches from yours. “I’ll be here at 6.” He whispered as he quickly spun on his heel and left.

#Jason Todd #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood #red hood fanfic #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood oneshot #batboys #batboys x reader #batboys fanfic #batboys imagine #batboys x you #batfamily #BatFam #batfam fanfic #batfam imagine #batfam x reader

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #233: The Annihilation Gambit!

July, 1983

“Up against... the BARRIER!”

Pretty cool cover!

So here’s the thing. This is a crossover with Fantastic Four. John Byrne even gets a credit for breakdowns and co-plotting.

I’m not going to completely cover the related FF issues but I’ll dip into the relevant parts of them.

For example, let’s discuss Fantastic Four #254 which coincided with the ending of Avengers #232. The thing with the fleeing crowd that didn’t know what they were fleeing and the invisible wall She-Hulk bonked off of? What’s the deal with that?

Allow me to summarize.

The Fantastic Four went off to explore the Negative Zone and had a series of weird and silly adventures. They left Alicia behind to babysit Franklin but Annihilus popped out of the portal and took them captive. This happened back in #251 so he’s had the run of the place for a while!

He’s been making modifications to the Negative Zone Access Portal and adapting the generators. For whatever reason, switching the machine on sends out potent fear waves which causes everyone to flee the area of the Baxter Building. There scene where She-Hulk and Wasp see the fleeing crowd and bonks off an invisible wall repeats.

And that’s all you need to know! Annihilus is messing around, potent fear waves, invisible wall, Avengers!

Now let’s get to the Avengers part of this crossover.

The Avengers issue of Avengers starts with Captain Marvel booking it over New York musing about what an eventful day she’s had as a full-fledged Avenger.

What with having to rescue President Reagan after he was taken hostage by soggy swamp men. Then Eros (Starfox) showed up and insisted on joining. Then Monica, Starfox, and Thor went off to catch Plantman who engineered the presidential hostage thing. All of that in only six hours!

Monica Marvel Rambeau is on her way to the mansion to give her report when she too bonks into something.

Captain Marvel: “It was as if I bounced off some sort of invisible wall! But that doesn’t make sense!”

Yeah, it really doesn’t!

As Monica herself points out, the wall is invisible ie light is going through it. So her light form should be able to go through it too!

Its a very selective invisible wall, apparently. And it gives her a weird ominous feel to touch.

But she’s not going to let sleeping walls lie and decides to try different energy forms to see if anything can get through.

Annnnnnd. Radios, cosmic rays, electricity, infrared, x-rays, and even gamma rays can’t get through. Although, Monica has the feeling that the wall gave a bit under the gamma, but not enough to matter.

Monica detours around the wall and heads back towards her original destination. AVENGERS MANSION!

When Monica arrives, cool team leader Janet the Wasp van Dyne is talking with the police. Obviously the police aren’t equipped to deal with an invisible dome.

At the least, though, Jan uses the NYPD data-link to figure out where the giant dome is centered.

Also, Wasp has another new outfit. This is the same day.

But its pretty snazzy black and purple so I won’t complain.

Monica tells Jan that Big Trouble is brewing and Jan is basically like ‘oh god now what’ but thankfully Monica and Jan are on the same case.

MEANWHILE, Steve Rogers’ modest Brooklyn Heights apartment. Where Steve Rogers is not having a conversation about his feelings with his girlfriend Bernie Rosenthal because his feelings are classified!

Steve Rogers: “In a way. It’s Avengers business!”

I’d mock this but what has Steve bummed and pacing like a caged bear is that Tony Stark, his good pal who he’ll never Civil War with, has quit the Avengers, gave Iron Man up to someone else, and is trying to drink himself to unconsciousness.

Which is very concerning! But also something you can’t really share the full details of without revealing a lot of secrets that aren’t yours to reveal! I feel like you could at least say ‘I think my friend is an alcoholic but won’t accept my help’ without spilling secrets but shrug.

At least Steve is open with Bernie. Yeah, she knows he’s Captain America!

Truly, the man is a role model. Not just as a superhero but also on dating.

Steve gets a BZZZT on his snazzy cool radio wristwatch, possibly the coolest thing to wear on one’s wrist ha ha don’t think about Avengers wearing Apple Watches.

Anyway, Jan updates Steve on the invisible - and expanding - dome. And that weirdly, there doesn’t seem to be anyone trapped inside because everyone ran away from it because its inexplicably spooky.

So Steve rushes off to Save The Day, stripping mid-run because that’s the kind of casualness and comfort you can have in a relationship where you’re open and honest.

See how Steve didn’t have to make up a half-assed excuse? Maybe think about that, Spider-Man. You’re not in this scene but maybe think about it.

Meanwhile again, the Baxter Building.

Where thankfully for people not reading Fantastic Four, we get an echoed scene where Annihilus motive rants at captive audience Alicia Masters.

Basically, Annihilus is feeling very bummed that Blastaar stole his Cosmic Control Rod in Marvel Two-in-One #75. For one thing, it really tied his whole outfit together. For another, without it, Annihilus isn’t immortal and he’s freaking out about dying. And not dying eventually, he’s apparently got Doom-level messed up face now from how he’s degrading.

So really the only real way to come to terms with mortality is to destroy two whole universes so you don’t die alone.

Annihilus broke Reed’s Negative Zone Access Portal and used its power core to power his own impenetrable NULL-FIELD. Which I guess is the invisible dome.

Annihilus: “How wonderfully ironic -- that a device which once produced a gateway between two universes should provide the power to utterly destroy them!”

I’m missing some middle steps here but basically invisible dome -> ??? -> destruction of the Negative Zone and the, uh, Positive Zone.

A MEEP MEEP from a computer which may be a roadrunner gets Annihilus’ attention and he sees to his shock that She-Hulk has planted her feet and is trying to bodily hold the dome back.

It’s not working but its slowing it almost imperceptibly and even that’s supposed to be impossible.

Annihilus: “What manner of creature is this?!”

I’d guess gamma-powered She-Hulk is having a tiny bit of luck against the dome for the same reason that Captain Marvel did when she tried gamma radiation.

Wasp, Captain America, and Captain Marvel show up to help She-Hulk.

She-Hulk tells the other Avengers that the invisible dome keeps “oozing over everything inanimate” but that she(-Hulk) can’t stop it.

Cap suggests using his shield despite the risk of losing it inside the dome.

Because, when Captain America uses his mighty shield, all who oppose his shield must yield. So maybe he’s onto something.

She-Hulk plants the shield in the ground in the path of the dome.

So good news/bad news.

The dome doesn’t swallow up the shield. But the dome just pushes the shield, carving a little furrow in the ground.

That cracks me up a little, I will not lie.

I don’t know why Cap’s super cool shield is exempt from getting schlorped up by the null-field but now they have a good idea where it is without having to bonk!

Speaking of bonk, Thor and Starfox come to join the party and Starfox runs right into the invisible wall.

Hee hee hee.

He also drops right into She-Hulk’s arms and they have a mutual banter moment.

She-Hulk: “Hmm! I’ve never had anyone fall for me like this before!”

Starfox: “I assure you it was totally unplanned... but rarely have I fallen into such open and inviting arms!”

If I recall correctly, they do hook up at one point and then years later She-Hulk beats seven kinds of shit out of him when the question arises of whether his powers influenced her into it.

At least Starfox is receptive and she’s not stalking Ben Grimm.

Anyway, Thor tries his hand at busting the null-field by shooting a bunch of lightning at it. Even though Captain Marvel tells him she already tried electricity.

Thor gotta Thor though.

And when the field stands firm against all the lightning, he gets pissed and hurls his hammer into it.

Mjolnir flies into the field, loses steam, and just pitches gently to Earth.

Bit confusing. I wonder why Cap’s shield can’t go through the dome but Mjolnir can.

BY THE WAY, THEY LEFT CAP’S SHIELD JAMMED AGAINST THE DOME.

They don’t comment on it but you can see it still gouging up the pavement. I guess they’re using it to mark where the dome is?

Amazing.

Anyway, Thor marvels at how Mjolnir left no mark on the invisible barrier and how its not returning to his hand like it should. Clearly there’s some weird property of the barrier interfering with Mjolnir.

Cap points out yeah thats interesting but isn’t there something that happens if you have Mjolnir out of hand for too long?

So Thor runs away and turns into Normal Doctor Donald Blake in an alleyway where nobody can see it happen.

Again: amazing.

Thor is basically out of the story because Normal Doctor Donald Blake can’t do anything to affect the barrier and he can’t get Mjolnir back while its up. So he’s just going to be twiddling his thumbs.

MEANWHILE, at Cross Technological Enterprises.

Hawkeye tries to cajole inventor Jorge to build some contraption for him but the man protests that he designed it in his spare time but if he builds a working model on staff, CTE will own the invention.

Unless someone approves a sub-contractor waiver that will let him keep the rights but who would do such a thing for him??

Hawkeye decides that as head of security he’ll do such a thing. I don’t know if head of security has any kind of sway like that but I imagine that won’t stop Hawkeye from insisting that he does.

Then Hawkeye hears about the Avengers dealing with the dome thing and gets sad that he can’t be out there with them.

Hawkeye: “Blast it, I oughta be out there with the rest of the Avengers! But, as long as my leg’s in a cast, I’m a liability to ‘em... until I prove otherwise!”

Maybe focus on letting your leg heal!

I don’t know what nonsense you’re brewing up and I know that months is forever in comic book time but maybe just take the time and let your leg heal up!

Back over at the Avengers, Cap and Wasp now justify to the others why Thor took off. Claiming that they sent him on a scouting mission. Captain Marvel objects that scouting is her specialty, what with the lightspeed dash, so Cap claims that brute force isn’t helping so its more important to have Captain Marvel’s versatility here.

Leading She-Hulk to snark that brute force not working doesn’t give her a lot to do.

Starfox has become instantly bored with the plot because he’s here for adventure dangit, so he wanders off to go flirt with an EMT.

Because Starfox.

A Quinjet arrives, because Wasp has put her true superpower to work.

The power of NETWORKING!

Aka, she placed a call to Vision and Scarlet Witch and they just showed up to help.

Wasp explains the situation and Vision decides he’s going to intangible through the field.

Vision: “Interesting. It does have an oddly unsettling ‘feel’ to it!”

Then he walks through and instantly collapses face first into the asphalt.

The Avengers’ bumbling attempts to deal with the null field are almost farcical really.

Scarlet Witch is alarmed by her robot husband faceplanting so tries to use her plot-resolving probability powers on the invisible barrier but to no avail.

OH NO HER DOES ANYTHING POWER DID NOTHING!

She bangs on the invisible wall yelling Vision’s name but Cap tells her “that won’t do any good!”

True but c’mon. Her robot husband just collapsed. Have some understanding.

Although I wonder what’s going on here.

The field goes over inanimate objects but doesn’t let Cap’s shield through. Mjolnir and Vision can go through it (although Vision does the intangible) but lose power shortly after entering.

Then again it is called a “null-field.” It probably does whatever it wants.

I’m just wondering whether Vision counts as an inanimate object or not. He’s very animate but he’s not strictly speaking biologically speaking alive.

Meanwhile, in the Baxter Building, Annihilus is laughing up a storm at the Avengers’ silly hijinxes. But mostly in the ‘they thought they could stop me’ sense.

Annihilus: “Lesser beings such as these are helpless before the genius of Annihilus! They do not deserve to live -- just as I do not deserve to die! I curse the fates which have robbed me of my rightful immortality! But even though life slowly ebbs from the dissipated body within my exo-skeletal armor, still shall I be Annihilus... still shall I be He-Who-Annihilates!”

And he pulls the Big Dramatic Lever.

Outside, Starfox is still flirting with the paramedic while she asks whether he should be helping the other Avengers?

Starfox: -squishes her face- “Alas, I am not a full Avenger. I am but a trainee, at the others’ beck and call! If they want me, they will call.”

And then he tries to make out but she’s distracted by the Baxter Building suddenly glowing with an awesome power.

And Starfox freaks out. He freaks out so much that he realizes that now is not the time for making out. That’s how alarming things suddenly are!

Paramedic: “Brighter than the moon... glowing like there’s no tomorrow...”

Starfox: “I fear your choice of words is most apt!”

And then he wanders back on over to the Avengers to tell them how messed up everything is.

Something occurs to me.

The Avengers don’t really have a Smart Guy TM currently. Tony left them in the lurch in that regard. And they tried to recruit Hulk again (apparently in Incredible Hulk #285).

Cap(tain America), Captain Marvel, Wasp, She-Hulk, and Thor are great. But they’re not people who can look at a thing and instantly jump to a correct conclusion about which technobabble will keep things from bad.

I think... Starfox may have become the Smart Guy TM of the team by default because he does have advanced space learning even though I’m pretty sure he napped through advanced space learning science class.

My god, the state of things.

Anyway, Starfox directs the Avengers’ attention over to the Baxter Building. Within the invisible field, there’s a second glowing field. And based on Starfox’s brains, the invisible field is a null-field (yes, that’s true) which cancels out all energy within, except at its focal point. Uh, sure. I think if all energy was cancelled out, we’d see way wilder effects but sure.

The glowing field is positive energy. And when the glow meets the invisible, it will cause the universe to merge with the Negative Zone AND THEN DESTROY THEM BOTH.

See, this is something that’s known on Titan. They just study ways to destroy everything apparently, nbd.

Starfox even mentions that his brother Thanos knows about this but “not even my brother Thanos was mad enough to test it!”

I dunno. I feel like Thanos is exactly mad enough to do that. I also feel like Starfox doesn’t know his brother was well as he thinks. So, yeah.

Hence, they’re all doomed. I mean, unless there was some way to penetrate the null-field BUT WAIT, Starfox says, didn’t Captain Marvel feel the field give slightly under gamma radiation? THEN THERE STILL MAY BE HOPE!

Yeah... Yeah. Starfox is the Avengers’ Smart Guy now. God.

Its like a reverse-Beast. He came to be a smart guy but the Avengers’ had plenty of those so decided to be the fun guy.

Starfox came out just to have a good time and he has to use his space brains to save reality.

(Also, its because of Same Face but Starfox even looks like Reed while he’s transitioning from doomsaying to figuring out the whole thing just by panicking and explaining things)

So after the Avengers do some calculations and preparations, Captain Marvel blasts off into space!

Cap(tain America) estimates that they only have twenty minutes and that a lot can go wrong.

Then a giant shouty bug man appears in the sky to shout.

Annihilus: “PEOPLE OF EARTH -- HEAR NOW THE WORDS OF ANNIHILUS! YOU ARE HELPLESS BEFORE ME! I AM YOUR DEATH!”

“The destruction of all that lives has ever been my goal -- but never have I had the means to kill so many! The time of universal death is at hand! I see among you those who are known as the Avengers... those who you would call heroes! Hah! They cannot save you! They are as helpless as the accursed Fantastic Four!”

“There is no hope for anyone this day! This is the day that Annihilus dies! And as I die, I shall reach out and I shall shake the very foundations of two universes! AND ALL SHALL PERISH WITH ME!”

Not gonna lie.

That’s a damn good villain speech.

You’ve got the villain head in front of an apocalyptic pink sky. You’ve got evil gloating. You’ve even got some dunks thrown at the superheroes because you just know that average civilians will be like ‘the Avengers will save us!’

Pretty good rant, Annihilus.

“Meanwhile, in the vacuum of space, the lightform of Captain Marvel has already flashed beyond the orbit of the moon”

Amazing.

Simply amazing.

Captain Marvel nyooms past the moon and traverses 93-million miles to go to the sun.

Which, even at lightspeed, takes over eight minutes.

A helpful reminder that even the ability to go as fast as light doesn’t necessarily mean you can get everywhere instantly. Cosmic distances are vast.

Captain Marvel nyooms around the sun, so close that even in the form of a light, she can feel the Sun’s gravity.

This is all some great stuff.

Then, Captain Marvel melds with a coherent light beam fired from solar satellite Starcore-One and transforms it and herself into a gamma ray laser beam NYOOMING right at Earth.

Blasting through the null-field just in time to interrupt more of Annihilus’ villain ranting.

Annihilus: “Prepare to make your final accounting, mortals! These are your last wretched moments of... eh?”

And then with a SKRAKATA SKRAKATA BOOM, the null field and positive energy fields are neutralized.

She-Hulk who was casually leaning on an invisible wall FLUMPS to the ground.

Wasp assembles the Avengers still milling about and tells them to move on the Baxter Building since Annihilus might still have tricks up his sleeve.

With the null field gone, the terrified crowds of onlookers are now just confused onlookers and want to get back to what they were doing before they started panicking.

Normal Doctor Donald Blake has to reach through the crowd of legs to grab Mjolnir so he can become Thor and rejoin the Avengers.

Y’know, before someone starts pondering why they haven’t seen him in a while.

Scarlet Witch notices sudden Thor and since everyone else ran off without paying any mind to Vision (geez, what the hell, the Avengers? He’s your good pal chum!) she begs Thor to help.

Scarlet Witch: “Thank heavens, you’ve returned! The Vision was injured somehow by that null-field! I... I can’t find any vital signs! His synthetic body is too different for the paramedics to do anything! Help us! Please -- !”

Thor slings Vision over shoulder exactly like you’d expect a buff Norse god to do and reassures Wanda that they’ll find someone to revive Vision.

At the Baxter Building, the Avengers very courteously go in through the front door because there’s just a lot of defensive systems that may or may not be active. And anyway, Wasp has a key to the special elevator.

Apparently, Wasp is such good friends with Sue Storm that she was given one of those special lasers incorporated into her new costume that opens the elevator doors.

I’ll have to check with my friend who liveblogs Fantastic Four to see if Jan shows up much. Because Sue has shown up a couple times in Avengers to build the idea that she and Wasp are good friends after their cool brunch but I haven’t heard of the reverse.

When the Avengers get to the 34th floor to confront Annihilus, they find that it’s been taken care of off in Fantastic Four.

The caption tells me for the full story to see that issue #256 and for once, I will.

(Interestingly, while Byrne got a co-plotter credit on this Avengers issue, Stern doesn’t get the same in the corresponding FF issue which really suggests who the driving force of the story was.)

Over in FF #256, the FF are stranded in the Negative Zone for reasons but have also noticed the null-field and positive field thing going on. Reed works to limit the effects of the fields merging to only the Baxter Building instead of the whole universe, which will also help the FF return home. He also hopes that someone on the Earth side of things “an Avenger perhaps” is also taking action.

Which, yeah. Captain Marvel’s whole thing where she launched herself at the Baxter Building from the Sun.

While she’s doing that, the thing that Reed is doing starts shorting out the circuity that Annihilus is using.

Then, Captain Marvel’s appearance causes the console Annihilus is working at to explode in his face, destroying his life-support armor.

Annihilus tries to activate the ‘destroy the universe’ thing manually but because of Reed’s machinations, the Fantastic Four get pulled back into the universe and Annihilus gets booted into the Negative Zone.

Its implied that Annihilus dies here but ha ha ha no he’s going to show up again without explaining how he survived. What a dick.

The Fantastic Four pop back into the Baxter building with the colors in their outfits changed because of technobabble. Reed instantly accosts Captain Marvel for being someone he doesn’t recognize but Thing tells him who she is and defuses things.

Thing runs off to take Alicia to the hospital, Sue runs off to look for Franklin, and Reed and Human Torch put out all the fires.

And that’s where the books sync up so back over to Avengers.

The Avengers meet up with the FF and compare notes and Reed starts trying to technobabble explain the change in uniforms when Wanda interrupts and asks someone to help Vision.

Reed examines Vision and comes up with some good news.

Vision is, more or less, okay. When he entered the null-field it drained his energy and disrupted his synapses but there shouldn’t be any permanent damage. The robot coma is Vision basically fixing himself up but Reed could speed up the process and help him recover faster.

And then Sue comes in with an unconscious Franklin.

Everyone drops everything to immediately rush off to the hospital, leaving Wanda and coma-Vision alone.

I mean. Kinda rude. Its entirely fair for Reed and Sue to run off. Its their son. And Johnny flies ahead to alert the emergency ward. But does the situation really need Starfox, Captain America and She-Hulk?

(The FF issue actually shows that Captain Marvel stuck around. She barely knows Wanda and Vision and she’s actually being courteous to them. Geez.)

I’ll give Thor a pass because he can turn into a Perfectly Normal Doctor. But really? Everyone is just leaving Wanda alone? Just like they left Vision just passed out in the street?

The Avengers are being dicks to Vision and Wanda today!

Follow @essential-avengers​ and like and reblog perhaps. Because I wouldn’t leave Vision lying passed out in the street and I haven’t even been his friend for years. Just saying.

#avengers #Fantastic Four #Annihilus #Captain Marvel #Monica Rambeau #She Hulk #Scarlet Witch #the Vision #Captain America #Thor #the Wasp #Starfox #essential avengers #the avengers fart around with an invisible wall for most of an issue having goofy hijinxes #and then manage to help resolve the issue when they realize that the universe might explode #good hustle the Avengers #although - and i'm loath to admit it - its mostly thanks to starfox #Vision and scarlet witch aren't even active members #they came out of loyalty to help #and they're treated like this #boo #its like a crossover that barely crosses over but on the other hand i didn't necessarily need to look at the FF side of things to get it #essential marvel liveblogging

[astralore]

Ask the writer: Pink and Green please! :)

Pink: Which of your characters would become your best friend? This one might actually be harder to answer than the enemy one! Mostly because, while I want and like friends, I often don't have the emotional energy to pursue them and I am scared they won't like me. (I used to do it when I was younger... maybe I just need therapy? lol) Again, it's pretty context-dependent, based on who I would be to them and what our interactions would be like. I think I have to assume that Nikolai would be impossible for me to be close with. This is going to sound awful, but I'm not fond of feeling like I'm not the coolest person in the room, therefore I may have to hate him on principle. He also tends to put people on edge, which can be draining to be around. On the other hand, I am okay with sharing the status of 'coolest person in the room' with other people if I am friends with them, so if we somehow did became friends then maybe we could be pretty good friends? At least until it crashes and burns fantastically and then we hate each other forever. I would probably become friends with Cailean, but we would never become "best" friends. This is because I'd be willing to pursue his friendship to a degree, but while he wants friendship, he also requires the other person to keep pursuing him while not crossing too many boundaries too fast in order to get close to him. And I just wouldn't put the energy into doing that. I could also be friends with Deka, but best friends still seems unlikely. Deka likes people but tends to hold them at a distance, for different reasons than Cailean does, and again, I probably wouldn't put the energy into getting close to them. I would just eye them sometimes and wish that I was cool enough to talk to them more. Elsie would be a little easier. She makes herself easier to talk to and pulls you into her orbit, so she doesn't require as much energy as some of the others. She's also less intense than Nikolai and more likely to set you at ease, making her easier to hang out with casually. However, she has some flaws that would probably bother me majorly, so it's hard to say how long our friendship would last. Vivietta, hmm... Vivietta is hard to get close to because of... well, how she is. Assuming circumstances worked out to where we ended up becoming friends in the first place, I think she would be a strong contender for a best friend honestly. Once you get past her defensive exterior, I think something about her exudes a sense of sincerity (and rage) that most of the others probably lack. You can tell she's hiding things, but she would probably still feel like someone you can trust. So, short answer, I guess Elsie and Vivietta? Vivietta is both my worst enemy and my best friend. Context is key. XD Green: Pencil, typewriter, or computer? These days, definitely a computer, but maybe I shouldn't be so quick to rely on it. When I was in high school, I did all of my fanfic writing by hand on lined paper and then typed it up/edited it when I got home. It's easy to do that way when you're in school because you can just sit in class writing fanfiction and it looks like you're attentively taking notes. (Also, all my writing got a light editing pass because of this, which probably made it better-- but it was still absolutely atrocious. I physically can't make myself read it.) I was incredibly prolific! At the peak of my productivity, I was able to update four different stories, a chapter apiece, daily. (How do I regain that power?! Well, if it means exchanging for the quality of 17-year-old me, I guess I'll stick with being slow...) These days, I can't stand using pencil and paper to write. I'm out of practice, I suppose-- I press the pencil too hard against the paper. My hand begins to ache. I want to change a line or rearrange some sentences and I have to erase erase erase to make it happen. That being said, probably writing by hand forces us to let go of a tiny bit of that desire to get it "perfect" the first time, as long as we reassure ourselves that it's fine to just make a note of what you want to

change and edit it on the computer later. They say you should edit on a hard copy of your writing, and maybe that's why-- it removes the ability to change things on the fly instead of focusing on the editing process. (Not to mention, not being able to rely on spellcheck makes your ability to spell improve, since you have to practice thinking about it, and I can tell that my spelling ability has suffered in the last decade!) That being said, I'm not sure I could adapt so easily to writing on paper again! Whenever I have to do it, I crave to use a keyboard. The thought of wanting a keyboard fills my mind, pushing out all thoughts of actually writing. I feel like it might be worth grabbing a notebook and forcing myself to use it in a place where I don't have access to a computer, and see what happens. link to writer ask list

#monstrata fracture #writing #ask response #aceduchessdragoness

[notaspywrites]

Don’t Tell Me - part three

It’s all or nothing now. 

Saturday is rapidly approaching and the team is still scrambling to track down the person behind it all, as well as come up with a plan to stop half of Berlin’s high society from going up in smoke. Will they hold firm or will the team crumble at the first taste of pressure? 

Warnings:  mentions of terrorism, depictions of violence, mentions of bombs, explosions, guns, smoking, swearing and descriptions of panic and anxiety attacks.

Word count for part three: 5,263

Author’s note: Welcome back to Team Black! My sincere apologies for the very late update, life always seems to get in the way but we’re getting right down to the wire now! I hope you enjoy this week’s update, another short one but the fourth and final part coming next week! As ever, thank you for reading! - not-a-spy

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

“Okay team!” Nils said cheerfully, walking into the tiny basement conference room with yet another massive iced coffee in his hand. “How are we feeling about tomorrow?”

Maurice groaned. “Not great.” 

“You are such a downer, Maurice!” Cipriana laughed, taking a sip of her own iced coffee. “I think we’re about as prepared as we can be.”

“Which isn’t exactly very prepared.” Maurice shot back. “We’re still down Vicky, and have only had a few days to try and get this, frankly, massive operation off of the ground. Besides, we’re basically down two agents because Chalice, no offense, doesn’t really count.” 

Chalice cracked a wry smile. “None taken.”

“You forget that we have the BND guys helping us out.” Nils said, taking a seat at the small table. “It won’t be so bad.”

Adalie frowned. “Maurice does have a point. I’ve taken a look at the plans for the hotel and that building is massive. We won’t have nearly enough people to cover all of the areas.”

“That’s why the plan isn’t to cover all of the areas.” Nils said. “We’ll have agents on the main floor of the ball, as well as some behind the scenes so we can get to wherever they may plant the bomb. Or bombs, I suppose. And I’m going to get one of the BND boys to trail Seidel.”

“Where will you be?” Chalice asked. 

“In the van, outside.” Nils said. “I’ll keep in touch throughout the whole thing and I’m going to also have control of their security system, so I’ll be able to keep track of where everyone is and who is coming and going.”

“What about us?” Harmon asked, pushing open the door to the conference room and letting Gatsby step through first. 

”Ah, Harmon, nice of you to join us.” Nils said. “I was just running through some rough plans for tomorrow night. As for the pair of you, I want you, Harmon, on the ground in the ball with us and Gatsby out tailing Seidel.”

Gatsby nodded.

“You don’t think Seidel will be there?” Adalie asked. “After all, it will be quite the social occasion.” 

Nils shook his head. “Nope. He’ll be staying as far away as he can, even if it does raise a few eyebrows.”

“But we don’t think Seidel is in charge, do we?” Owens spoke up, his voice quiet. 

“No.” Chalice said. “He distinctly mentioned a boss, though I have no idea who that could be. Do we have any ideas on that yet, Nils?”

Nils took another sip of his iced coffee. “Not as of right now, but I’ve been doing plenty of digging. And obviously, the first suspect would be Seidel’s father, since I would assume that he’s the one who covered Seidel’s previous.”

“You’re pointing the finger at the Chief Constable?” Harmon stared at him in disbelief. 

Nils held his hands up. “No, no, hear me out. I said he would be the first suspect. I’ve done a lot of digging into his past and there’s nothing there that rings any alarm bells for me. In fact, he’s got a pretty decent record.”

“Okay.” Harmon grinned. “You had me worried for a second.”

“So, its not the Chief Constable.” Nils continued. “In fact, I am of the opinion that it isn’t anyone from within the police force.”

“What makes you think that?” Adalie asked. 

“Well, I’ve been through just about everyone and no one else has the same kind of background as Seidel.” Nils said. “But the biggest thing is Seidel’s phone records. There’s one number that he’s been in almost constant contact with and, from what I can find, it isn’t registered to anyone within the police force or with any kind of connection to the force.”

“Do we know who the number belongs to?” Cipriana asked. 

Nils shook his head. “Not yet. I’ve run into some issues, but I’m working on it. I have it narrowed down.”

“When will you know?” Owens asked softly. 

Nils shrugged. “I honestly have no idea, Owens. But I’m working on it.”

“So, what are we doing for today?” Maurice asked. “Is there anything we can do to help track down the leader, or are we working on something else?”

“As soon as I find out who the number belongs to, you’ll be helping me. Until then, I want you to take a look at the floor plans of the hotel, see where they might plant the bomb, or bombs.” Nils said, picking up his iced coffee and moving towards the door to his makeshift office. 

“What about us?” Harmon asked. “Are we doing the same thing?”

“Actually,” Nils paused, “I want the pair of you to take a look through some of your files and see if there’s anyone who might stand out as Seidel’s boss.”

Harmon nodded. “Right.”

“Is there anything in particular we should be on the lookout for?” Gatsby asked quietly. “Any indicators?”

“Anyone with clear connections to terrorist organizations would be a good place to start.” Nils said. “If they have a criminal record with any terrorism related charges then that’s someone I would dig into further. Other than that, I would be on the lookout for people who are very vocal about radical causes or views.”

Gatsby nodded. “Okay.”

“Adalie can help you out.” Nils said, gesturing towards her with his iced coffee. 

She nodded curtly. “Of course.”

“Do you want us to formulate a plan for where us agents should be positioned as well?” Maurice asked. 

Nils nodded. “Yeah, that’s absolutely a good idea. Just get an idea of where the best places to be positioned would be.”

Maurice nodded. “Okay.”

Nils glanced around at the team, his hand on the door handle. For the most part, everyone looked tired but ready to go, except perhaps Cipriana, who had consumed almost as much coffee as him. His eyes landed on Owens. Owens’ eyes were glazed over, fixed on something only he could see. Nils didn’t think he had heard a single word of the briefing. After talking to Vicky, he was incredibly worried about putting Owens out in the field. Chalice could handle himself, he was sure of that, but he wasn’t nearly as sure about Owens. 

Nils pushed the door open but hesitated before stepping out of the conference room. “And, Chalice?”

Chalice glanced up at him. “Hmm?”

“If your hair is still gray tomorrow, there’ll be hell to pay.” There was a mischievous twinkle in Nils’ eyes. 

Chalice groaned. “Yes, sir.”

Nils laughed. “Good. I’m sorry, for the record.”

Chalice rolled his eyes. “You are not.”

Nils took another sip of his iced coffee, still grinning mischievously. “I’ll see you all later.”

*****

Maurice knocked on the door to Nils’ makeshift office, balancing a tray of coffees in one hand. Nils had his headphones on and didn’t glance up so Maurice stepped inside, tapping Nils gently on his shoulder. Nils jumped violently, knocking off his headphones and almost upending the coffees in the process. 

“Jesus!” Nils laughed. “Don’t sneak up on people like that, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

Maurice set the coffees down on Nils’ desk. “To be fair, I did knock.”

“Did you?” Nils laughed. “Oh. Nevermind then.”

“Mm.” Maurice frowned at him, handing him a large iced coffee. “Made any progress yet?”

Nils shrugged. “Not really. I’m a little bit stuck at the moment but I’m digging myself out of that hole.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Maurice asked. 

Nils shook his head. “Nope. Carry on with the floor plans and I’ll let you know when I have something.”

Maurice sighed. “How are you feeling about tomorrow? I get the feeling you’re a little, cautious, if not worried.”

Nils paused for a moment before taking a sip of his iced coffee. “I am worried, to be honest. I don’t think Owens is up to it.”

“Owens is our best agent.” Maurice said. 

“He’s our best agent on paper.” Nils corrected him. 

“He was damn good in the field at Checkpoint Charlie.” Maurice said. “I don’t think you should doubt him so much.”

Nils frowned. “He may be good at hiding it but Checkpoint Charlie took a lot out of him. I don’t know if he can handle it anymore.”

“What does Vicky think?” Maurice asked. 

“Vicky thinks I should pull him.” Nils said quietly. 

Maurice started. “Seriously?”

“Yes. She thinks that putting him in the field could be dangerous.”

“But we need him in the field!” Maurice said emphatically. “We won’t be able to cover everything with just the four of us plus the BND agents. Especially since Chalice isn’t trained.”

“Agreed.” Nils said. “Which is why I’m keeping him in the field for tomorrow. We can’t lose agents right now.”

“Do you think it could be dangerous?” Maurice asked, fiddling with the sleeve of his coffee cup. 

Nils shrugged. “I don’t know, Maurice, I really don’t. I like to think that Owens would be able to keep his head enough to not endanger himself or the rest of the team, but I can’t know for sure.”

“Of course not.” Maurice said. “To be honest, I would be more worried about Chalice.”

“Chalice has a good head on his shoulders.” Nils said. “He’ll be fine.”

“You seriously think Chalice will keep a level head where Owens is concerned?” Maurice asked incredulously. “He’ll lose it if anything goes wrong.”

Nils shook his head dismissively. “Chalice will be fine.”

Maurice opened his mouth to protest but Nils stopped him with a quick hand signal. 

“Hang on, I’ve got something.” Nils said, turning his full attention back to his computer, his fingers flying over the keys. 

Maurice leant over his shoulder, trying to make sense of what was on Nils’ screen. “You have a name?” 

“I might.” Nils said. He leant back in his chair suddenly, raising his arms in triumph. “There he is! That’s our guy.”

The mugshot of a middle aged man with long blond hair had just popped onto the screen. He had a slight smirk on his face as he looked directly into the camera. Maurice shuddered. There was an air of malice about the man.

Nils continued. “His name is Ryker Haas and he was part of the same group that Seidel was associated with in his youth. When Seidel left to join the police force, Haas took the helm. He’s got quite the extensive record but he’s never been in prison which, if I had to guess, is probably Seidel’s doing.” 

“And this is our guy?” Maurice asked. 

“Almost certainly.” Nils said. 

“Almost?”

“Almost.” Nils repeated. “The phone is a throwaway, so I can’t be 100% certain that it belongs to Haas, but I’m about 99% sure.”

“Do you have enough to bring him in?” Maurice asked. 

Nils shook his head. “No. What I have is almost all circumstantial. We would need to put him at the scene of one of the shootings, Checkpoint Charlie or at the ball tomorrow and I would hazard that he’s too smart for that.”

Maurice scrunched up his face in concentration. “Are you sure about that? You don’t think he would want to see the aftermath of his handiwork?”

Nils shrugged. “I don’t think so but I’m a technical analyst, not a mind reader. I have no idea what this guy could be thinking. I just know that if I were him, I’d be well on my way out of the country by now.”

Maurice opened his mouth to speak but Nils cut him off. 

“And before you say anything, I’ve already put an alert out. If he tries to leave, I’ll be the first person to know.”

“I thought you said we couldn’t arrest him?”

“We can’t.” Nils said. “No one is going to arrest him, they’re just going to tell me if he makes a move. If anyone tries to stop him from leaving, he’ll probably alert Seidel and the rest of them and then we’ll lose the whole lot, which we don’t want.”

Maurice nodded. “Right. So what do we do now?” 

“We wait.” Nils said. “We gather as much information as we can about Haas, Seidel and whoever else we think is working with them, but we can’t do anything until tomorrow night.”

“We’d better get back to work then.”

*****

Chalice frowned at himself in the mirror, toying unhappily with his newly dyed brown hair. He missed the grey already. He’d never looked good with brown hair and the fancy suit certainly wasn’t helping. He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, adjusting the collar. He wasn’t used to wearing his shirts done up all the way and he felt rather as if he was being strangled, especially with the ugly lilac tie. The piercings were missing too, which made him feel oddly naked. He screwed his face up, glaring at his reflection. Momentarily, he debated leaving, going back to the hotel, changing into a pair of jeans and going to sit in the van with Nils. But the team needed him. Giving his hair one last disapproving tug, he walked out of the bathroom.

The team was meeting in the conference room in the basement of the BND building, anxiously waiting out the last few hours before the mission really started. Actually, he should have been here almost an hour ago but he had spent too much time trying to figure out a way to wear a suit and still look even vaguely attractive. He had given up. He pulled open the door to the conference room and stepped through, letting it slam shut behind him. The team, plus the two BND agents he had met already and a few others that he didn’t recognize, were scattered around the small room.

“Can we help you?” Nils barely glanced at him as he spoke, turning immediately back to the glass board.

Chalice didn’t answer.

Owens was sitting at the table partially facing him, leaning back in his chair with one heel on the edge of his chair and the other leg dangling in front of him. His auburn hair was slicked back from his forehead, sweeping backwards away from his face so that Chalice could see his freckles for once. He wore a tailored white tuxedo set, a distinct contrast to his usual ill-fitting suits, and Chalice found himself unable to speak for a moment. Owens turned to look at him and Chalice caught a rare glimpse of his emerald eyes.

“You changed your hair.” Owens sounded almost disappointed as he spoke and it took Chalice a second to pull himself back to reality.  

Nils looked away from his board. “Oh shit! I honestly did not recognize you. You look good!”

Chalice frowned at him, tearing his eyes away from Owens. “That’s a lie and you know it.”

“It’s not entirely a lie.” Nils turned to Owens. “I’m the one who forced him to dye his hair.”

Owens glanced back at Chalice and scrunched his face up. “I don’t like it.”

His eyes flicked away from Chalice’s hair for a second, appraising him. “I like the outfit though. Looks good.” 

Owens turned away. Chalice’s heart thundered in his chest. The words had been delivered so casually that he wasn’t entirely sure what the intention was. Chalice stood for a second, frozen in place. Nils caught his eyes, and raised his eyebrows suggestively. Chalice glared at him and took a seat at the table next to Owens. 

“Are we all here?” Gatsby asked.

“Uh…” Nils looked away from the glass board, taking in the room, “no, not yet. We’re still missing Adalie.”

Cipriana snorted with laughter. “Nils, I’ll bet you 5 pounds that she shows up in a pair of pants instead of that stupid short skirt.”

Nils grinned. “You’re on!”

Cipriana held out her hand and Nils shook it. Chalice looked over at Owens and rolled his eyes, earning a smile in return. 

“So!” Harmon clapped his hands together. “Other than your missing agent, is everything ready for this evening?”

Nils nodded. Chalice noticed that he looked drawn and pale, with prominent dark circles under his eyes. He wondered how much he had slept. 

“Yeah, everything is set. I’ll be in the van outside, coordinating everything, Owens and Adalie will be behind the scenes and the rest of you will be mingling with the guests.” Nils said, looking around the room. “Harmon, where’s your suit?”

Harmon sighed. “It’s in my locker.”

Nils laughed. “Listen, if Chalice here has to wear a suit, then you do too. Go get changed.”

“You aren’t wearing a suit.” Harmon complained. 

“No, I am not. But I will not be inside the ball.”

Harmon sighed and reluctantly left the room, holding the door open for Adalie as she entered. She was scowling and wearing a neat white blouse with a short black skirt and a white apron. Nils grinned at Cipriana, who was sitting at the table, her mouth agape.

“You owe me five pounds.” He said triumphantly.

“How...how on earth did you manage that?” Cipriana stuttered, handing a five pound note over to Nils as she spoke. 

“The art of persuasion.” He grinned, handing the note directly to Adalie.

“Art of bribery more like.” She mumbled angrily, smoothing down the skirt. “This get-up is absolutely ridiculous. I don’t see why I have to play the waitress while she gets to dress up in that fancy ball gown.”

Adalie gestured at Cipriana’s long green gown. Cipriana grinned at her, smoothing down her ball gown. 

“Because we need you behind the scenes with Owens. You’ll have the harder task because I know that you can handle it.”

Adalie glared at him. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Nils nodded at her attire. “It got you into that skirt. Now, we really must move on from this. Once Harmon gets back, we’ll be ready to move.”

Harmon stepped back into the room, still tying his tie. “I’m here. Where’s Gatsby? Is he not coming with us?”

“He’s already out, he’s following Seidel.” Nils said. “As of right now, Haas hasn’t moved as far as we know, but we’ll keep an eye on him.”

“We?” Maurice asked. 

“Yes, I’m borrowing the BND’s junior tech analyst for the evening.” Nils said, nodding towards a young man standing in the corner of the conference room. “We also have agents Altergott, Woertz and Thyen joining us. They’ll be on the floor at the ball along with Cipriana, Chalice, Maurice and Harmon. Adalie and Owens, you two are going to be behind the scenes. Myself and Gerber will be outside in the van and we’ll be in constant radio contact with all of you.”

“Do we think they’re going to plant and run or will they stick around?” Cipriana asked. 

Adalie glanced over at Nils before responding. “I would assume they’ll stick around, to make sure things go according to plan. Especially after Checkpoint Charlie.”

Nils nodded. “Definitely. But I would be surprised if Seidel shows up at all.”

Adalie frowned. “But this is a major political fundraiser and he’s the son of the Chief Commissioner. Surely it would look weird if he didn’t show?”

“He’ll have come up with an excuse of some kind, I’m sure.” Nils said. “But Gatsby is on his tail, so if you turn out to be right, Adalie, we’ll have advanced warning.”

Adalie gave a satisfied nod. “Okay, good.”

Nils glanced down at his watch. “Owens and Adalie, you two need to get a move on.  I’ve put your names down as Karl Higgins and Felicia Malay. You’re to go in by the staff entrance and sniff around until you think you can slip away. Get into the basement if possible, that’s probably where they’ll plant the bomb. And keep an eye out for anyone suspicious.”

Adalie nodded again, getting up from her seat. 

“Right.” Owens got up elegantly from his chair and gently smoothed down his white suit jacket. He left the room behind Adalie, flashing a smile at Chalice as he did so.

“What about the rest of us?” Maurice asked. 

“The rest of you don’t need to leave for another half an hour.” Nils said, picking another iced coffee off of the table. “Harmon, you’ll be there under the name of Leon Becker, a journalist, meaning you have a right to be nosy and irritating. Maurice, you’ll be there under the name of Fynn Muller, a rich aristocrat recently moved back to Germany from France.”

Harmon grinned. “Wonderful.”

“And you two,” Nils smirked at Chalice and Cipriana, “Are Mr and Mrs Hahn, another wealthy couple.You’ve put a lot of money into the police and Emil is very interested in politics, so you’ll be asking a lot of questions about the people there and what they do.”

Chalice glared at him. Cipriana tried desperately to suppress her laughter. Maurice coughed loudly, choking on his laughter and coughing more.

“Are we just glossing over the fact he said ‘Mr and Mrs?’” Chalice asked, gesturing at Nils. 

Cipriana giggled. “Why? Don’t fancy getting married?”

“No offence Cipriana, but not to you.”

Cipriana laughed. 

Chalice turned and frowned playfully at Nils. “First you get me to change my hair, and now you’re asking me to pretend to be straight, too? There’s only so much a man can sacrifice for his job.”

Maurice burst out laughing. 

Nils grinned. “Sorry Chalice, if you want to be an agent, you’ll have to get used to pretending to be someone you aren’t.” 

Chalice rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. Just this once.”

“Thank you.” Nils said. 

Cipriana giggled. 

“Okay!” Nils clapped his hands together, downing the last of his iced coffee and grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair. “I need to get going and get myself set up in the van. Gerber’s going to be coming with me to help coordinate everything. You guys still have about 20 minutes or so before the doors open so you can, uh, just chill out here until the limos arrive. Oh, and please make sure that all of your mics and earpieces are working before you leave. I don’t want anyone getting cut off, not tonight.”

Maurice frowned at him. “Wait, did you say limos?”

“What, you thought you were just going to roll up in police cars? Come on Maurice, I don’t want to have to send you back to the hospital for brain damage.”

Maurice glared.

“We should get going, sir.” A small voice piped up from the corner. The BND’s junior tech analyst had pushed himself away from the wall and stood in the corner of the room, wringing his hands. 

“Of course!” Nils said, flinging on his jacket and tossing his empty coffee cup into the garbage. “And please don’t call me ‘sir,’ Gerber, I don’t deserve it.”

“Uh yes, okay, um, okay.” Gerber said, quickly leaving the room. Nils followed.

“I’ll see you guys later. Don’t do anything stupid!” Nils said, waving at them as he left.

*****     

“So, what exactly is it that you do, Mr. Haider?” Chalice asked casually, taking a sip from his glass of wine. Cipriana stood next to him, her hand resting gently on his elbow, her eyes focused on nothing in particular. In short, she perfectly filled the role of the bored wife. 

Haider gave a dangerous smile. “Oh, you know. I’m a politician, I work closely with the German police most of the time. It’s quite boring, really.”

“You work with the police?” Chalice pressed. “Then surely you must know Seidel.”

 Haider tilted his head to one side, suspiciously. “Naturally. I know both of them quite well. How do you-”

Chalice cut him off. “Oh, my wife and I work quite closely with the police. I know the younger Seidel very well.”

“Ah, right.” Haider relaxed visibly. “Yes, Seidel the younger is very interesting. He’s got some brilliant ideas, I’m sure you’ve heard them.” 

Cipriana and Chalice shared a quick glance. 

“Some of them, certainly.” Chalice smiled. “I’m sure you’ve heard more than I have. My wife and I don’t quite run in the same circles, you know.”

Haider gave a mirthless chuckle. “Of course. Well, if you have a moment, I’d be very happy to discuss them with you.”

Chalice smiled. “Oh, that would be excellent, if you don’t mind.”

Cipriana coughed delicately. “I’m going to get a glass of wine, dear, I’ll be right back.”

Slipping her arm out of Chalice’s, she quickly made her way out of the main ballroom away towards the bar. On her way, she slid out of the backdoor of the hotel. 

“Nils?” She whispered into her earpiece.

“How’s it going?” Nils asked. “How’s Chalice working out as the perfect husband?”

She giggled. “I wouldn’t marry him. But I’d say it’s going pretty well. I’ve just left Chalice alone with some young politician that I think might be one of Seidel’s men, hopefully Chalice will be able to get some more out of him. His name is Haider, if you’re interested.” 

“Right.” Nils fell silent for a moment and Cipriana could just barely hear the sounds of keys clacking through the earpiece. “Ah, okay I have him. You could be right about him, Cipriana. Good work!”

“Thank you!” Cipriana said. “How’s the van going? You sound tense.”

“Both Haas and Seidel are on the move.” Nils said. “Gatsby has eyes on Seidel but I don’t have anyone trailing Haas and I’m worried we’ll lose him.”

“Where’s he headed?” Cipriana asked. 

“The airport. I have no idea what his plan is beyond that.” 

“Right.” Cipriana glanced down at her watch. “The speeches are due to start in about fifteen minutes or so, if I were our guys, then I’d probably strike then, I mean, everyone will be in one spot.”

“Okay. I’ll let Owens and Adalie know. And Cipriana, can you do me a favour?”

“Uh huh. What d’you need?”

“Keep an eye on Chalice please.”

“Uh, yeah, of course. Why?”

Nils sighed. “He’s a little too eager to impress. I’m worried that he’ll go too far and do something stupid. He’s not a trained agent, Cipriana and if he does something that puts this mission in jeopardy, then I’m fucked.”

“Okay. I’ll keep an eye on him then.”

“Thanks.” Nils said. The line went silent and Cipriana quickly made her way back to the ballroom, grabbing a glass of wine from Adalie on her way in. She winked at Adalie, who only glared at her in response. 

When she got back into the ballroom, Chalice was nowhere to be seen. She swore under her breath and made a beeline for the young politician that they had been talking to earlier. 

“Hi!” she said cheerfully. He turned around.

“Hi. Are you also interested in Seidel’s ideas?” He smiled charmingly at her.

She put on her best condescending smile. “Oh no. That’s my husband’s thing. Have you seen him, by the way? I’m not sure where he’s gotten to.”

He shook his head. “I think he went to look for you. You were gone for rather a long time. We finished our discussion and then he wandered off in that direction.”

He waved his hand vaguely behind his shoulders, the opposite direction that she had gone when she left. She resisted the urge to swear out loud. 

“Oh. Well, thank you very much.” She grinned. “I’m sure I’ll see you later.”

She slipped away, moving hurriedly in the direction that the man had indicated. She should have listened to Adalie, Chalice was much too reckless to be on an important mission like this. He was eager to impress and, knowing him, he’d do whatever it took to prove himself as an agent. She just hoped that he wouldn’t get himself into any real danger. She reached a set of rear stairs and ran up them as fast as the heels and the excessively long skirt would allow. Chalice had to have come this way, there was no other way he could have gone. She hiked the dress up to her knees, only letting it drop back to the floor once she reached the second floor. The hallway was dark, the lights off, and it was lined with wooden doors, all of which were closed. She swore, out loud this time, but in Greek, in case anyone was listening who shouldn’t be. This was going to be impossible. Chalice would have to figure out his own mess. 

She turned around and sideled back into the ballroom, scanning the room for any sign of Chalice. She couldn’t see him anywhere, but she did catch sight of Maurice, standing alone on the far side of the room. She made her way towards him, quickly. 

“Look for the man with the blue suit and silver tie. He’s with Seidel.” She whispered into his ear as she slid past him. He nodded nonchalantly, taking a dainty sip of his champagne. She checked her watch. 5 minutes until the speeches started. 

“Adalie, Owens, you guys have 5 minutes to the speeches.” Nils’ voice echoed down her earpiece. She watched as the man in the silver tie peered into the ballroom before sneaking away into the hotel. She frowned at him and met eyes with Maurice, inclining her head in the direction the man had just gone. He nodded and moved to follow him

“Yeah, we’re downstairs.” Adalie said, her voice clipped.

“Good. How’s it going?” Nils asked.

“We’ve found the bomb.” Adalie barked. “They’ve planted and run, Nils.” 

“Shit.” Nils mumbled, and Cipriana could hear his keyboard clacking on the other side of the line. 

“Where's the bomb squad?” Adalie asked. 

“They’ve been held up somehow.” Nils’ voice was shaking. “Fuck, Adalie, they aren’t going to get here in time. Are you two going to be able to handle this?”

As if they really had a choice, Cipriana thought. They would have to handle it, somehow.

“We’re gonna have to.” Adalie said. “Owens has bomb training.”

“Okay, alright.” Cipriana could tell that Nils was trying desperately to stay calm. “Cipriana, how are you and Chalice getting on?”

She swore under her breath. “Chalice has run off somewhere. I’m so sorry Nils, I was following some guy I thought could be working with Seidel.”

“Okay. Okay, whatever, we can’t worry about him right now. Maurice, Harmon, what about you guys?” 

There was a faint buzz as someone’s earpiece turned on, followed immediately by a loud thud and a rapid string of french expletives. Cipriana stifled a snort of laughter.

“Merde. We’ve got your man, Cipriana.” Maurice panted. “We’re good Nils, we’ve taken down one of Seidel’s operatives. We’ll get him to the BND van then get back inside.”

Nils paused. “No, don’t go back, there’s nothing else you can do.”

“You’re sure?” Maurice asked. “We don’t know how many people Seidel has inside, I doubt we’ve gotten all of them.”

“I’m sure.” Nils said firmly. “Stay outside and see if anyone comes out early. If they do, follow them in one of the cars.

“Okay, sure.” Maurice said. 

“You think the building’s going up?” Harmon asked.

“Not if we can help it.” Adalie cut in.

“I have confidence in Adalie and Owens, I’m just being cautious.” Nils said, but there was an edge of uncertainty in his voice. “Cipriana, are you still inside?”

“Yeah.” Cipriana said. “You want me to leave?”

Nils hesitated. “Yeah, yeah, make your way out now, just to be safe. And keep your eyes open for anyone else who’s leaving early.”

Cipriana began to weave her way through the crowds. “Got it.”

#fiction #spy #spy fiction #original writing #writing #my writing #crime writing

[the-wintershade]

— the sun goes down; he takes the day, but I’m grown

pairing: sam wilson x f!reader x bucky barnes summary: you meet him once at your favorite place and assume that you won’t meet him again, regardless of how good the conversation was, but alas, fate always seems to have other plans. wc: 6.8k+ (no self-control and I actually planned this series out) genre: slightly angsty, flirting, good banter, medium burn

Blue Shade: series — masterlist | 01

The room buzzes with the clanking of machines, snippets of conversation, and the quiet energy of caffeine tapping into the bloodstream, feet tapping against floors, legs bouncing uncontrollably. It would be lying if you claimed that you didn’t appreciate the white noise of it all. You could be standing in line, absentmindedly admiring the mahogany walls with original artwork in monotone shades and not worrying about seeming aloof or cold. 

This whole establishment was a piece of artwork, something to be admired by anyone who endeavored to traverse the outrageous traffic and lack of parking in New York. It gave you a sense of home and comfort among the noise, the energy vibrating through the air calming any rising anxieties.

You ordered your usual and stood, your computer bag slung over your shoulder and a light jacket hanging around your frame. It only took a few seconds to get your drink ready as they slid it across the metal counter, your name written in jagged script. “Started working as soon as I saw you walk in.” Mark, one of the baristas, smiles at you and you flash him a thankful grin back. “Where would I be without you?” 

He only smirks, returning to the espresso machine and preparing the next drink. Your first sip is heavenly, flavors traveling across your tongue at a lightning fast pace and blending into a richness and warmth that can only be attributed to the feeling of this place. Safe and comforting, inviting and welcoming.

You pick your usual seat, right up against the wall, resting against the wood that acts as a divider between the line and the seating area. The tables are all carved from trees with a cherry veneer whipped across before a sealing, clear coat. You run your fingers against the surface, searching for any lingering crumbs, but also to take in the feel, the smooth gloss against your hands, the sturdiness against your fingertips.

Somehow you wish you could take the emotions that rise as you come into this place with you as you go home, but you can’t. The only thing you can do is savor it all as you do the same thing every time you come in. 

You zip open your computer bag and pluck your laptop from its case, setting it on the table and waiting for it to boot to life. It whirls and displays a start up screen as you take another couple of sips of your drink, trying to make the cup last for the next hour or so you’ll spend here, glancing out the window at passing traffic. 

It’s a pain to find parking—you had to park a good way down the block just to make it here—but it’s all worth it. Just for this. Just for the feeling of sitting here and admiring the light outside as it splashes against the buildings, swathing them in wonderfully rich whites and browns and blues. The sunlight reflects against cars and shining sequins, its rays spreading every which way with its brilliance.

It’s wonderful.

Then your computer finally finishes its load up sequence as you dig around for your earbuds, fishing them out to plug into your phone, opening up a calming playlist as you click the web browser on your computer.

Today’s topic will be about how light plays an integral role in the consumer’s experience between the home and their enjoyment they get from it. You’re not a realtor per-say, but you have a deep respect for architecture and how it connects with people.

Just like this coffee shop is comforting to you, you wonder what are the elements that make buildings enjoyable for other people. Is it the light? Is it the noise level? Is it the people and culture that a building attracts? The location?

So in order to explain these questions, you’ve kept lists of them, stored on the hard drive of your phone in a note keeping app. Then, you come here, the place outside of your home that you enjoy coming to and focus an hour of your time on researching these things, discovering answers to problems and questions that need solutions. 

It’s relaxing, lets you get away from some of the problems that you might be having in daily life, like work or in your relationship. It gives you time to delve into something that doesn’t relate to you personally, gives you another subject to focus on while you strive to find those answers about personal issues that you can’t quite come up with yet.

Your music is calming, the various voices speaking around you fading away as you open ebook after ebook, article after article, searching for responses and research that points to a connection between light allowed in the house and customer satisfaction. Surveys come up, testimonials offered, research specialists all weigh in on the topic and you ravage through it all.

The explanation of the connection between sunlight and serotonin can’t be denied and even without the research, you’d be able to tell people that, yes, you’re much happier when out in daylight and fresh air. You feel better. The science is there to back it up, but what happens when architecture is applied?

What about the location of the home? The size of their windows? Where on earth they live?

What if they explored this furt-

“Hello.” The voice sounds foggy and far away and you draw an earbud out of your ear, gazing out of your article to find someone actually standing in front of you. “Sorry to distract you, but is this seat taken?” He gestures at the seat in front of you. 

You spare a glance around the restaurant for half a second and observe the empty tables lingering all around you, wondering why he would want to sit right in front of you when there’s all that space lingering around.

You nod, slowly, with apprehension, and scoot back to allow for more shared leg room. “Thanks.” He sits down as you write a few more notes onto a notebook you slipped out of your bag a few minutes ago, trying to keep your place and appear busy to him. 

If he were to try to strike up a conversation, at least you’d remember where you were and what you still needed to look up, but if he saw you writing furiously with that pen like your life depended on it, maybe he would leave you to your work.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

“Do you always sit here?” He sips on his drink encased in a white mug, sunglasses still resting over his eyes. His voice is kind, but holds weight to it, like he’s trying to pull you out of what you’re working on. You’re not rude, so you appease him.

“Yeah, it’s kind of my spot.” You smile and close your laptop, taking away the temptation to keep searching and just ignore him. You sip your drink in your paper cup and lean back, placing your pen back on the notebook, about ready to put your stuff away.

“Interesting.” He sits forward, pushing the sunglasses out of his eyes, the deep chocolate of them apparent to you now, not that you were looking that hard in the first place. You tell yourself that you definitely weren’t looking that hard. Or that you noticed the slight abrasions on his leather jacket. “You’re not the first to claim this table.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrows shoot up and you take a sip to hide your shock. “This is your spot too?”

“Clever girl.” He leans back and observes you and you laugh at his nonchalant approach to the situation. “Though, I do accept company every now again. Good to allow the table some exposure.”

“How gracious of you.” You muttered over the lid of the coffee cup while the stranger just smiles at you, appreciating your joke and humor in the situation. “I bet Rachel loves being introduced to new people.”

“How do you know her name?” He fakes surprise, setting down his mug. You nearly burst out laughing at his expression, all twisted with his mouth and eyes wide open. “That was supposed to be our little secret.”

“Well I happen to know Rachel pretty well, thank you very much.”

“I can see.” He narrows his eyes and leans back, looking down at the table as he shakes his head. “No loyalty.” He sips his drink, foam sticking to his lip. “Where’s the trust?”

You giggle and hand him one of your napkins, pointing to your upper lip. He gives his thanks as he wipes away the evidence.

You check your watch and jump at the time it reads. You were supposed to leave five minutes ago, planning to meet up with Bucky just down the block. Hastily, you grab your notebook, pen, and earbuds and stuff them into the right pockets. 

“Blowing this joint, huh?” He acts cool but you see the curiosity lingering behind his eyes and you stop for a second. 

“Um...yeah. I’m late to meet someone.”

“Do you need help with anything?”

You slide your laptop back into the bag. “No, but thank you. I appreciate it.” You grab your jacket from the booth beside you and slide it over your shoulders, the material scratching against your skin. “Take care of Rachel for me.”

You slide your bag over your shoulders and begin to walk out when he stops you. “Hey, Coffee Girl.” 

You turn and smile at him. “Yes, table parent?”

“When do you think we can discuss more options about custody over the table?” His smile is warm and there’s something else underneath. Something you don’t recognize, something that sounds like intrigue. You haven’t seen someone look at you with that in, well, a while. It nearly scares you right out of your skin.

“I’m..” Your voice begins to falter and you hang onto your coffee cup just a little tighter. Not out of a general fear of him, he seems really sweet and kind, but for yourself. No one, no one, ever looks at you like that. “I’ll probably be here, next week.” You manage to get out. “Same time.”

“Hmm.” He watches your demeanor change and his smile becomes less beaming, more soft and subtle. “May I ask for a number.” Your face erupts with astonishment, eyebrows shooting up. “Just to confirm, of course.” He adds, trying to placate your sharp change in expression.

“Um…” You look around to see people watching you and notice how awkward the situation is becoming. Closing your eyes for a brief second, you open them to see his smile now gone and replaced with confusion. “I’ll meet you here again and then I’ll swap digits.”

“Okay.” He nods, seeming still confused. “Have a good one.”

You want to punch yourself in the gut. 

“Yeah. You too.” You turn away and nearly run out of the coffee place, the bell ringing like a gong of judgement as you swing the door open just a bit too hard.

There was going to be nothing wrong with giving that man your number, nothing at all. There was just...just this feeling of overwhelming disbelief and a deep piercing sorrow at the fact that he wanted your number at all.

You didn’t see the conversation swerving in that direction. You liked him, thought he was great to talk to and seem genuinely interested and intrigued by what you were saying, but the thought of him having a deeper interest terrified you.

Because he didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

He didn’t know what a bore you were, let alone how uninteresting you could be. 

He wouldn’t be happy with someone like that. How could he be? He was the sun and you would only swallow him in shadow, drowning out his humor and smile and inescapable light.

He would die with you by his side.

He doesn’t want you, not really, because he doesn’t know you. Because he would be horrified by you.

…. 

“Hey, doll!” His eyes light up as he sees you, crinkling in the corners as he opens his arms wide to trap you within his embrace.

You loved when the bright blue of his eyes did that. Their shape turns into splits and his happiness seems to vibrate from his gaze into you, warming you up, making you feel alive. His arms are sturdy and warm, safe and bracing. You don’t feel like you could ever fall with him by your side.

But he smelt foreign to you, like jasmine and lavender. He always smelled like fresh pine and the forest. It was the thing you always loved about him.

He was corrupted, but he was still beautiful. Still the Bucky you knew.

“How are you?” He kept his hands resting on your arms, drinking you in, smiling down at your grinning figure. 

“Good. Are you ready to go?” He nods, slipping his hand in yours. “Where’d you go today?” You stare at your linked hands and grin, not noticing the way his mouth turns into a fine line before a small, pretend smile takes its place.

“Oh, just to the gallery down the street.” Your eyes snap to his and for just a split second, hurt crosses your features before you smooth it over. It all comes back to the gallery. Every single thing.

But if you ignore it, maybe he’ll still be happy with you, happy with the way things are. If you try to fuss about it, he’ll run away or get angry, and you don’t want that. You don’t want to see him upset. He’s not very reasonable when upset.

He seems to see how your face changes and silence takes hold as you walk down the street filled with warmth and sunlight. Although you feel his heat bleed into your hand, you feel as if you’re next to an iceberg, a stranger, someone you want to put distance between, not someone you feel you love.

Bucky shifts, reaching for something to soothe your hurt. “Come on, doll. Don’t be like that.” He laughs, and you try hard to believe him, to fill the air with your warm giggles, but you can’t. You're physically unable to. “She’s just a friend.”

Liar.

She’s not just a friend, no matter how much he tries to convince you. You don’t have any evidence to support your theory, not any true evidence that he can’t refute, but you know a bold faced lie when you hear one. 

That’s why you try to be good, be interesting, because maybe being interesting will bring him back to you, back to your side. 

He’s here now, but he’s never really here. He’s not as devoted to you as you are to him, but that’s your fault. You’re just not good enough for him, but you could be better. You can be better. You just have to show him.

You just have to hold on. Just give him a chance. Show him how exciting you can be.

Taking in a healthy breath of air, you sigh. “Right.” You shake your head as if you’re trying to clear these treacherous thoughts from your mind. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” You smile at him, as much attempting to convince him as you are trying to make it all right in your head. This is the correct way to handle things. This is how you pull him back. Just forgive and move on.

He relaxes at your acceptance, deflating at your calmed hostility. “You know you’re the only one for me.” 

“I know, Bucky.” You rub his arm and his happiness is not as apparent as his serenity over solving the previous conflict. He presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to your head, leaving an impression there that makes your skin crawl, but these feelings will dissipate as time goes on. 

Time will heal everything.

“You still remember that party tonight?” He drawls, as if proud that he’s secured an invitation. The party is for his friend at the art gallery, a celebration of her achievements. It’s supposed to be a small gathering, but with how many people were there at her opening, you would be shocked if the numbers were really that low.

You nod, leaning away from how Bucky’s face hovers so close to you. “Yep. I remember. I’ll be there.”

“Good.” He pulls you closer and you would be lying if you didn’t feel your stomach warm, butterflies recklessly taking flight without fear of slamming into the lining around your gut. 

Your chuckle isn’t quite a lie and Bucky catches on to your honesty, seeming to grow taller and believing himself completely absolved from all original misdeeds.

Then you hit him with your next topic. “A man tried to get my number today. At the coffee shop.”

He stops walking completely, his arm falling from around your shoulders. “He did what?” His voice is tightly coiled, ready to spring at any moment.

You keep walking, not waiting to see what his face would look like. You know his brows are well furrowed and eyes are dark, devoid of any lighthearted fun. They’re not the blue of a gentle stream but a churning and violent ocean. 

“Oh, come on, Bucky. I said tried. I didn’t give it to him.” You roll your eyes in front of him, turning to hold an arm, beckoning him forward and into your arms. He doesn’t move. You stop and cross your arms over your chest. 

“Don’t tell me that you did this to make me jealous.” His words carry bite, but they fall harmlessly from your frame made of metal and steel. Impenetrable. After what you’ve seen and know, nothing he could say or do to you could truly harm you.

“That’s rich, considering he asked me.”

He sees that his tone has no affect on you and stalks closer, ignoring your arm that now begins to fall back into its place by your side. “But you won’t go back there, right?” He grins, malice and hope curling together, like he wants to lure you into a complete false sense of security, urging you to agree. “You know how I don’t want anyone else stealing you away from me.”

He drips with imitation honey and you’re too smart to believe the gold of it is real. “Bucky, you know that’s my spot.”

“And I’m telling you, (name), that you can’t go back there.” His teeth make each syllable sharper and harsher, but it doesn’t scare you. 

But maybe if you back off, get him to stop fighting, he’ll just let this one go. You only told him just to make him aware, not to cause a real argument. This isn’t worth turning into a complete debacle. You’re not going to allow his anger to grow any larger.

“You can’t stop me from going there, but I won’t go back at the same time or on the same days. I probably won’t even bump into him again. It was the first time I’ve ever seen him there anyway.” You turn, holding out a hand to him that he takes and squeezes so hard your hand aches when he relaxes his grip.

“But,” He drills holes in the side of your head. “If you see him again, tell me.”

“Sure thing, oh great shining knight.” You nod fervently, like you’re completely devout to him. And in a way you are. There’s something about him that keeps you just hanging on, refusing to let him go completely.

He laughs with acid behind it. “You know I’m just trying to keep you safe.” He looks wounded as you spare a glance at him. “He might try to take advantage of you.”

“Well good thing you’re here then.” Your face adapts to pure happiness, his concern for you starting to trump all of these horrible things you’re beginning to feel. It always makes you feel important and wanted when his protectiveness jumps out, his vulnerability unlocking something in you. 

He grins just as strongly back at you, gently running circles over your hand. “What did he look like?”

“Bucky!”

“What?” He holds up his other hand, looking like he can’t understand what he’s done wrong. “I need to be ready in case you call.”

“Well I’m not the damn police. I wasn’t really looking that hard.”

“Oh cut that out. I know you got a good look at him.”

You sigh, thinking of a way to get out of having to actually answer his questions without him becoming angry again. You can’t, so you give him crumbs. “He had brown eyes, darker skin. Sunglasses.”

“Doll, I know you can do better than that.” He smirks but it’s strained. 

He doesn’t believe you.

“Not really.” And that’s kind of the truth. You weren’t really paying attention to his attire, besides the rip in his jacket. “I wasn’t really paying that much attention to him. Research remember?”

“Hm.” He consents. “I’ll give you that.”

You breath out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“But just remember to call me, alright?”

“Sure.”

“Doll.” He stops, turning to gaze deep into your eyes.

“Okay.” You hold up your hands and cross your fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

He searches your gaze for just the inkling of a false statement and doesn’t find it. “Alright. I trust you, doll. Don’t make me regret it.”

You nod, your stomach feeling just a little sicker as your hands rejoin and the sun begins to set, the buildings turning a deep shade of crimson.

…

The party is more like a college frat palooza than a respectable meeting for supporters of a budding artist. Red solo cups line the room and the kitchen is stocked with all sorts of wine, tequila, whiskey, and bourbon. 

Drinks for respectable people, of course.

Bucky already has a buzz going from taking two shots of whiskey before you even came to pick him up. You insisted on driving so he could enjoy the full effects of the alcohol before you even made it to the party. Somehow that BS worked and he was getting a little loopy and handsy before you made the door.

His hand now rested at a respectable place on your hip, but you had to keep his hand from drooping lower and lower. Now, his arms spread wide as he saw his red-haired friend, wrapping her into a hug and placing a bottle of rose into her hands. He spun out his congratulations in a slur of wonderfully crafted and charming phrases to which she blushed deeply at, at least until she saw you.

“Willow, this is (name).” He gestured back towards you and you stepped forward, shaking her hand with a polite smile on your face. Even her name was beautiful. Figures he would choose her.

Her smile was nice enough, but her eyes still dragged back to him, lingering on his beautiful face and warm eyes. Of course, any one would be drawn to him, you would be a fool if you ignored that, but there was just something a little too warm and knowing behind her stare. Like she was blushing at meeting her long-lost childhood love again.

It made you slightly sick but you ignored it and tried to send her your best in the only way you knew how. Words that weren’t quite a lie but still sounded nice. For the most part. “Congrats on your art display. Your work is very colorful and has a really cool avant-garde aspect to it. You really could be on to something, Willow.” You winked at the end and she laughed, seeming to take your compliment well.

“Thank you. I know it’s not super conventional, but I hope it opens a new interpretation into art.”

“I’m sure it will.” Yeah, if you’re a lunatic or a complete believer in work that makes absolutely no sense.

She grins and the room erupts in starlight. Her smile is like starting at jewels under direct light, beautiful and dazzling. No wonder everyone seems to gravitate to her. You start to fold inward while Bucky dismisses you, telling you to “make yourself comfortable” and  “introduce yourself to people.”

You nod and immediately make a B-line to the corner, standing away from all of the people in overly priced clothing and drinking strongly proofed wine. It’s not that you didn’t enjoy a good bottle of wine or even something stronger from time to time, but if you had ever learned anything from being in college, it’s that if you’re unsure of drinking something while you’re there, don’t drink it.

You briefly wonder if there’s a regular can of pop to be seen in this place.

Then you look at your surroundings, admiring the wood of the walls, the accent tapestries adorning them and then start to think that this girl might have good taste. The current tapestry you observe has burgundy and gold blended together in a beautiful amalgamation and you play with the strands between your fingers. It’s soft and strong, wonderfully crafted. 

The wood behind it is hard and sturdy, easy to run your fingers along and feel the stronger edges behind every cut. It’s beautiful. A good selection.

But there’s almost no windows. No light. No opportunity for incorporating the day with the dark atmosphere her home carries.

“(Name)! Come over here.” You sigh, peeved by your disturbance from being silent in your corner. You follow his voice till you’re beside him, letting him put an arm around your shoulders. “I want you to meet, Chris Tallow. He designed this place.”

Chris was probably one of the most famous architects in the whole state. Standing in front of him made your knees wobble. “Hello, nice to meet you.” You timidly were able to get out and he smiled warmly at you, reaching out to shake your hand.

“James tells me that you’re quite the architectural connoisseur.” He grins and you nod, enthusiastically.

“I love your work! It’s ingenious and visionary. It’s amazing how you’re able to work with multiple mediums and incorporate them seamlessly.”  The words pour out of your mouth before you’re able to stop them, now embarrassed at your unrestrained confession.

“Girl knows her stuff.” He seems impressed and appraises you accordingly.

“She’s quite the fan-girl.” Bucky laughs, pulling you a little closer. “She’s obsessed with buildings, sometimes in neglect of other things.”

You almost glare at him, but then you remember where you are and who you’re in front of, so you let out a reserved snicker and unwrap yourself from around him, Bucky a little uneasy on his feet. “Nice to meet you. Bucky you want anything to drink?” You look at him expectantly, but he just leans in and presses a kiss on your cheek, waving his cup.

You dismiss yourself again, frustrated with how he brushed your passion off like that.

You travel back to the kitchen, right about to pop the lid open again when you see the man from the cafe, staring you down. You duck under the table and try to catch your breath after the lightning bolt that went firing through your veins. What in the world is he doing at the flighty girl’s party? How does he even know her?

“Nothing you’re gonna want is in there.” He states plainly, but not in a rude way, just in a I-don’t-think-you’re-the-beer-type kind of way.

He would be right. “Oh,” You stand up, wiping the condensation on the fabric of your jeans, “Right.”

He watches you with such an unabashed directness that you can hardly breathe. He’s dressed in a tan leather jacket that sets off his deep red sweater and dark jeans nicely, pulling against his strong physique. He’s still as bright as you remember him to be and you’re lost as to what to say to him to continue the conversation.

The mystery man seems just as distracted  until he sets down his coke to reach into the fridge to pull out another one for you, handing it to you politely, fingers sparking as you hands graze. “Here.” 

“Thanks.” You mutter as you crack the can open and take a long sip, needing a distraction from the man in front of you and your growing unsteadiness around him. At least you have something in your hands that you can cling onto. “I didn’t think that opening a cold one with the boys would be the smartest thing I could do.”

He chuckles, warmth pouring out of him. “Me neither.” He leans against the counter as you drink, surveying the party and drawing his eyes away from you for a moment. It’s a relief as you still don’t think you’re going to be able to think straight. “Not one for parties?”

“What gave it away?” You speak, your voice warbling after your drink and you try to steady it, cringing heavily at its harsh quality.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. “In the corner. Where I usually take up my post.”

“Oh, don’t tell me the sunglasses aren’t a hit?” You lean next to him and his eyes graze yours with a twinkle. You smile back as his teeth shine against the hazy lighting the string of lights behind you provide.

“Well,” He leans a little closer, bumping his shoulder with yours. “I’ll give you a hint. It might not be the sun glasses.”

You gasp.

“I know. I know.” He chuckles taking another sip, still grinning at your reaction. You feel a warmth start to spread and fight down the urge to lean closer, to prompt him with far more personal questions. “It’s hard to believe that all this could be such a mood-killer.”

“You know, full disclosure, I do find that a bit startling.” You watch as he looks to you with perplexity and something deeper. You ignore the warmth again as you explain yourself. “I mean, come on, you’re hilarious.”

“Okay, Coffee Girl, what’s your excuse?” It’s your turn to be bamboozled. “You’re funny and intelligent and witty. Why aren’t you out there killing the game? These people would be on the floor if they heard you.”

You look down at your drink, taking effort to pull your eyes away from his deep orbs, keeping you from falling in. You take a deep gulp before you think about answering. He sobers up at your actions and watches gently, waiting for response. 

He’s not so demanding as Bucky, watching you with soft interest not with blatant scrutiny. You actually feel like you can talk with him and not be judged by your responses. You decide to take the leap. “I have a deflector for that.” You tip your coke towards your “plus one” that’s so absorbed in what strawberry is saying that he doesn’t even notice you talking with the man whose name you still don’t know.

“Ah.” He sighs, swirling his drink around, his energy collapsing. “Your boyfriend.”

You turn to him and watch him pointedly avoiding your eye, searching around the room without settling on an object.

His words sting for whatever reason and you feel that you need to correct him, stop him from getting the wrong impression. That you need to make him understand. “Not exactly.” 

“What do you mean, not exactly?” He scoffs, taking another swig.

“I mean that we’re not together, together. Yes, I came with him. Yes, I’ll probably leave at some point with him to stop him from passing out on the street dead drunk, but we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend or anything like that.” You don’t look at his face as he turns to you, knowing he’s trying to find any evidence of deceit. 

“Was that who you were meeting after leaving the shop?” He’s open, asking for honesty.

“Yes.” You look at him then, taken aback at the unabashed staring he’s doing, not even looking away as he observes you with such a gentle intensity, like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s seen. He’s wrong, but the way he’s looking would convince you otherwise.

“Okay.” He drinks again, placing the empty cup down on the table. “So, this boyfriend of yours doesn’t let you speak to any guy in any sort of flirting fashion?”

“More or less.” You wash more cold liquid down your throat as he looks away and scoffs. “What?” You prompt, genuinely interested.

“He’s one of those types.”

You purse your lips but say nothing. 

“As he should be. You’re so unaware of yourself.”

You almost choke, but he doesn’t give you a chance to respond as he grabs another coke from the fridge and pops it open. You look around the party and find Bucky and Willow conveniently absent. What a host. Doesn’t even make sure she sticks around to receive guests.

A pang settles against your chest as he comes to lean beside you on the counter, a little closer than normal. He must read your expression as he looks around for them as well and his face settles into disdain when he can’t spot them either, looking back at you. “You know, you never told me your name.”

You chuckle and take another drink, finishing it and placing it next to his original empty one. “You first.”

“Okay,” He turns and offers you his hand. “Sam. Friends call me Falcon.”

“Quite the nickname you have there, Sam.” You take his hand and shake it, feeling the buzz shoot through your arm at the contact and try to ignore how your skin heats up. 

He doesn’t respond for a minute, just looking at you. “Your turn,” He manages after a while, a miniature smirk taking his face, much different from his usual open grins.

“(Name),” You breathe back, trying to act confident. “But people call me Coffee Girl, sometimes.”

“Oh?” He grins fully this time, unconsciously holding your hand still. “Your good friends?”

“Maybe.” You coyly offer and his eyes light up with challenge. 

He laughs to himself as he finally lets your hand go, searching through the crowd again. “I saw you admiring that woven work on the wall over there.” He nods his head in the direction of the tapestry.

“Yeah.” You sigh. “It’s got great hand work. One of the finest I’ve seen.”

“Are you a collector?”

“Not really. Just a fan, I guess.” Your tone drops at the end. Sam looks at your dismal expression, eyes wondering. He searches a second more and then drops the topic. You stand close to each other, the heat wafting from your thin shirt meeting the warmth coming from the collar of his jacket and you take it all in.

The noise of the party seeming far away from the space that you and Sam have created. It’s peaceful and comforting. It feels like the coffee shop. 

Guilt rises at the way you left, at the plans to avoid him completely. Because of Bucky. Because of a man that is overly jealous over the slightest things. 

You clear your throat. “Um, Sam. I want to apologize to you.”

“Why, (name)?” Warmth crackles down your midsection at the use of your name and wonder if your usage affected him similarly. 

“When I left at the cafe, I wasn’t the kindest and know I made you feel terrible for approaching me.” You watch as he grins and lose your nerve and silence yourself.

“If I felt terrible, do you think I would have come over? Even when you hid from me?” You cringe and he laughs harder.

“I’m sorry.” You peak out of the corner of your eye and watch him laugh even harder. Your laughs mix for a couple of a seconds, a beautiful symphony, comfortable and happy. “I just…” You hold onto the counter, propping yourself up a little. “I’m just not used to that kind of attention.”

“Your boyfriend doesn’t look at you with pure adoration in his eyes?” He takes a sip and then frowns when you stay silent. “(Name)?” You can’t look at him as you play with your fingers. “Oh.”

“Yeah...” You weave your left fingers around your right pinky, trying to calm your heart down after your confession and the feeling of intense shame about ready to spill over.

“I’m sorry, if I made you feel uncomfortable.” He carries his words with a look of sincerity and you feel awful for making him feel as though he needs to apologize.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just out of practice, that’s all.” You look down. “I’m not good with that sort of thing, you know?” You glance over to see his eyes are already on you, electricity threatening to shoot between you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean.” But he doesn’t look away, just moves a little closer. “If you’re comfortable with it, would you reconsider that number thing? I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, I’m just showing my interest.”

You can tell.

And something in you tells you that he’s definitely trustworthy, someone worth giving your number to. He just has this draw and for a moment, you forget about Bucky completely as you watch Sam. You nod, slipping out your phone and placing it in his palm, turning the back of his hand over. 

His skin burns.

He smiles softly and enters his number in your contacts. He then slips his phone out of his pocket, furiously typing on it. Your phone lights up in your hand a second later, a text flashing across the screen: This is Falcon, paging Coffee Girl.

You laugh at the nickname. His name reads Falcon in your contacts, his real name hidden to your message app as it rests in the nickname section, which is turned off on your display.

You text him back.

Coffee Girl on stand-by.

He laughs at your response and you loosely smile as you're distracted by his light, by the beauty in his smile. He doesn’t notice and you duck your head to keep it that way.

Your stomach drops as you look up to see Bucky paving a stumbling path through the party to you, eyes ablaze and slightly unfocused. Sam stands to his full height, putting some distance between the two of you. “(Name). Where have you been, doll.” Alcohol slides over your cheek as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, glaring past you and into Sam.

“Here.” You draw his attention back to you as you take in his swollen lips and disheveled hair. Your shadows start to creep back into your skin, originally chased away by Sam, his light burning them away. Bucky’s eyes, despite how intense they look, are unfocused. He’s not in his right mind.

He pulls you closer as he looks down at you. “Who’s this?” He smiles at you but frowns as he spares a glance back at Sam. 

“A friend.”

He looks Sam up and down a couple of times before he looks back to you, a goofy smile coating his face. “Okay.”

You turn around and at Sam’s face distorted in anger, all traces of  his original kindness obliterated. It startles you, but when he glances over at you, his face softens. “I’m going to take him home.”

“Nice seeing you.” He bids you goodbye with such subtle hints at his awareness of the situation. You get the feeling that he’s not mad at you or the situation, just at Bucky. You silently thank him for his understanding.

He imperceptibly nods his head at you and you turn back to Bucky, slipping his arm over your shoulder. 

You feel a buzzing in your pocket but ignore it as you drag a half-functional Bucky out of the house and into your car. 

…

After hours of dragging him around his apartment and laying him down for bed, you leave him with one glass of water and a few pills for the massive headache he’s going to have tomorrow.

He mumbles for you to stay, but you push his arms off of you as if they’re disgusting chains, attempting to keep you sedated in one place.

When you break free from his place and safely make it back to yours, you collapse on your bed, crawling under the covers, not caring that makeup still lingers on your face. The fact of your phone buzzing dawns on you and you pull your phone out of your pocket, clicking the screen to life to see Falcon appearing on your screen.

See you around, Coffee Girl.

Your heart warms and you send a quick text back before turning out the light, plugging your phone in, and placing it on silent as you drift off.

Goodnight, Falcon.

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