#nah let’s ruin her paragraphs

[terrietont]

Beach City grew a lot over time since Steven’s departure and it got a little too crowded for some of the more firey gems. Bismuth was forced to construct more and more homes for more and more gems and it grew a little stressful after a while. She adored the new era of peace, but sometimes she missed just hanging out with the gems alone.

The B Team (as Peridot called them) crystal gems of Lapis, Bismuth and Peridot decided to relocate their homes just a little bit away from Little Homeworld. The trio were close with their friends, but they still needed their own space especially with the population growing every day since the liberation of the gem empire.

Peridot often claimed the growing noise was “cluttering her work style” and Lapis was generally overwhelmed with so many gems in one place and found it especially hard to relax after a long day of mentoring and showing off her “meep Morps”

Bismuth couldn’t even lie about how much more peaceful the days have become since moving. Of course she loved her gem comrades, but even she; the ever confident metal worker needed personal time too.

Now she could have time to herself to think about certain… “problems” that had been on her mind for an annoyingly longer time than she’d hoped for.

That night out with Pearl, Steven and Connie was one of the best nights she ever had since her reformation. Seeing her once anxious and frustrated friend so happy, so relaxed and so contented warmed her up like the lava she bathed in, but it felt like there was a piece missing from her gem.

Ever since that night, she couldn’t stop thinking about Pearl. Getting closer to the ex-servant was making it harder to manage her feelings.

She really thought she could let go of those feelings after admitting them to Steven, but they only seemed to grow stronger since that night.

She became more and more flirtatious, trying not to show it to anyone. (Though she was sure Garnet was aware due to that little smirk the fusion kept giving her.) Stars, it made her so nervous to think about admitting to Pearl just the stuff she told Steven, let alone everything she felt entirely!

Of course what she said to him was true; she did want to catch up… but that wasn’t just it. She was really hoping her dumb feelings would dissipate once she told someone about them, but ever since Steven left beach city, she didn’t really have the courage to tell the gems about this and she almost knew without a doubt Amethyst would go blabbing the secret around town (even if it was by accident).

She just couldn’t shake the emotions out of her body.

It was like torture! She couldn’t just keep pretending like everything was okay with her and Pearl… she had to tell her. It was going to come out one way or another.

She’d prefer it came out by her own will and not her blurting it out in the middle of conversation.

Bismuth stared over at the lush trees in the open forest, feeling nothing but the cold wind on her body and the morning sunshine peaking through the white clouds.

The buildings behind her empty of her allied gems. Namely, Peridot’s tall green ‘peridot-shaped’ home and Lapis’s more lazily built blue tent-like structure right next door. Bismuth also had her own miniture forge and resting place for Peridot’s obnoxiously large room. (Something Peridot built for all of them so they could “sleep over” as the green gem put it). It was nice, and it felt like home.

Just peace and quiet, no other sounds to interrupt her thoughts-

‘Crackle, Crackle’.

The sound of a rustling bag caught her by surprise. She turned to see Lapis, standing there with what looked like a bag of chips. The gem was putting them in her mouth so casually, Bismuth almost thought she was Amethyst shapeshifted if it weren’t for the blatant blue hue.

“Oh! Didn’t see ya there, Blue!” Bismuth smiled nervously. “Hey, you going okay over there?” The blue gem asked, gently grabbing a chip and putting it in her mouth. “Oh uh yeah yeah… just thinking about things, that’s all.”

Bismuth stopped to look at Lapis with a curious smile. “I didn’t know you liked to eat!”

Lapis shrugged. “Yeah sometimes, I dunno it’s fun when it’s just something small.” She replied.

“Haha yeah, I mean I don’t really eat all that much, but I do like a good pizza every now and then.” Bismuth laughed.

“Tried it. Too cheesy and gooey” Lapis replied, swallowing her chips.

Bismuth chuckled then continued to stare back into the wilderness. “So… what are you day dreaming about?” Lapis asked, curious.

Bismuth stoped and turned, hiding her nervousness. “Uh well… you know lots of things and wait, where did you learn about day dreaming?”

Lapis snorted with a relaxed grin.

“When you nap as much as I do, you tend to drift off when you’re awake as well” she explained nonchalantly.

“That makes sense” Bismuth nodded.

The silence came again and Bismuth found herself lost in thought. “Who are you day dreaming about?” Lapis asked, smile getting a little wider.

“Huh? Who?” Bismuth’s face darkened… how on earth did the ocean gem catch on so quickly? ‘How did she know?’ Bismuth thought to herself.

“Yeah, who?” Lapis nudged playfully.

“Um well, I uh…” Bismuth sucked in a huge breath. There was no hiding it from Lapis at least “Was it that obvious?” She asked sheepishly.

“To someone who knows what it was like, yeah.” Lapis explained.

“Huh? Wait… you day dream about someone too?” Bismuth asked, curious and kind of desperate for some closure.

“Yeah I used to have these weird feelings around Peridot all the time, I had dreams we’d be I dunno a fusion at some point” Lapis laughed, blushing at the memory.

“But uh fusion kind of sucks for me and Peridot doesn’t want to fuse anyway which is fine. I guess what I’m trying to say is, yeah I kept day dreaming about her off and on, it was like torture” she shuddered, rubbing her arms together.

“That’s what this feels like!” Bismuth exclaimed in desperation. “But how did you tell her?”

Lapis turned her head to the side in confusion. “Tell her?”

“Yeah! You did tell her, right?” Bismuth asked. Lapis looked away. “Not really. I don’t really want to make her uncomfortable, she’s not the kind of gem to feel that way about anyone. I just kinda held it all in and then it went away I guess?” There was a hint of sadness in Lapis’ voice.

“I just- I don’t know how you could just hold it in all the time! I-I want to tell her how I feel about everything! I want to hold her and tell her how beautiful she is and how she makes me laugh and smile and she’s so strong and brave and… I could never amount to her bravery.” Bismuth vented, her hands turned into fists.

“Sounds like you got it bad” Lapis teased with a friendly smile. Bismuth forced a smile, but she was clearly embarrassed, her face being a much darker shade than her whole body.

“Maybe I just need to let it go. Not like I haven’t tried that!” She vented again, feelings compeltely mixed up.

Lapis pondered this for a moment. “Well… you could tell her and maybe she feels the same way? And if she doesn’t… then uh you guys can still be friends, right?” She shrugged.

Bismuth looked over for a moment, thinking long and hard. “I guess… I just, I feel like it would make things so tense between us for the rest of our lives.”

“Gonna be honest with you Bis.” Lapis began, looking at Bismuth directly. “It could be super weird at first but if you guys really get along, you can start over and just be friends again right? I mean I did some pretty dumb things and Peridot and Steven still hung out with me” She tried reassuring the nervous blacksmith, but it didn’t seem to be helping.

“Okay but what if she DOES feel the same way?!” Bismuth replied in panic.

“Then that’s good right?” Lapis shrugged

“Is it?” Bismuth replied, shaken for a moment thinking about Pearl ACTUALLY reciprocating the feelings.

“Oh stars… I just don’t know how to do it!” She exclaimed.

Lapis hummed in thought for a moment. “Hmmm… maybe you need to talk to a certain someone about it? Someone who knows about feelings and stuff way more” she suggested with a knowing grin.

Bismuth’s eyes lit up in realization. “Garnet! I know she’ll help me with this!”

“Yeah she um… she’s pretty good when it comes to this stuff” Lapis replied, looking away looking suddenly nervous.

“Okay! I-I think I can do it!” Bismuth puffed out her chest confidently and brushed off the dust from her outfit. “I just gotta go talk to Garnet!” She reminded herself.

She turned to face a slightly surprised Lapis with a grateful smile.

“Hey Lapis? Thanks, I needed to get that off my chest”

The blue gem blinked for a moment before snort-chuckling. “Well uh yeah sure anytime”

Bismuth warped into the temple where she found Garnet waiting for her on the couch, stroking Cat Steven’s head gently.

“Oh Garnet, you’re here!” Bismuth said in surprise.

Garnet had a small smile on her lips. It was pretty obvious she knew what Bismuth was coming to her for.

“I saw you coming here asking for my advice on an urgent matter” Garnet replied stoically. Bismuth laughed nervously, fidgeting with her fingers. “Oh yeah, future vision” she said under her breath.

“Come.” Garnet motioned for the buff gem to sit with her.

“So, Pearl then…” Garnet’s smile began to widen ever so slightly.

Alas, Bismuth’s face went dark again. “Oh. Is it that obvious?” She felt like she was repeating the same thing earlier that day, except feeling even more incompetent than before.

“Bismuth, whatever fate decides for you and Pearl, I know is going to be alright and all I can see is that you both end up being happy.” Garnet reassured.

“But… how did Ruby and Sapphire do it?” Asked Bismuth.

“How did they not crumble into little pieces when they admit their feelings for one another?”

Garnet laughed under her breath a little. “Ruby and Sapphire were a complete mess. They never once had a calm moment when they fell in love. They were completely love struck.”

“But… what if only one of them were love struck? What happened then?” Bismuth asked, becoming a little more desperate for a quick answer with each passing minute.

Garnet thought for a moment, touching her visor.

“Well… they both ended up dwelling on their feelings for a while until one of them made the decision to talk about it, otherwise they’d stay the same. Restless, tortured, longing.” The fusion explained, cringing at the past for a moment when Ruby and sapphire used to bottle up their feelings more often before they finally decided to stay perma fused.

“I mean it’s not like I want to fuse with her, it’s just… I want to be with her and make her happy and make her smile and just be there for her through the good and the bad, and just support her in anyway I can!” Bismuth sighed, day dreaming again.

Garnet could feel Ruby and Sapphire awing deep within her fusion.

“Bismuth, you need to tell her right away!”

The fusion’s voice suddenly perked up with excitement.

“Wha-huh?!” Bismuth looked startled for a moment and then looked to her side, sweating nervously.

“Uh I um, I dunno Garnet, it just seems like it’s too soon, you know?”

“Well if you don’t do it sooner, you’ll never get around to it and you’ll continue to suffer with deep longing” Garnet explained with harshness, reverting back to her stoic nature.

Bismuth sighed, clenching her fists. “I-“

“You’re right! You’re right!” She stood up, feeling more determined than ever, this time actually feeling like she could do it.

“I better think of something too, maybe prepare a monologue and get some fancy wearables!”

Garnet gave her a smile. “Show her you mean Bismuth” she joked.

The rainbow gem chuckled

“And you better come up with something soon because Pearl is about to use the warp in twelve seconds” Garnet added just as emotionless as before.

“SHE- WHAT!?”

Bismuth tensed with panic.

“Oh shucks! Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?!” She whined, hands griping to her rainbow locks.

“You got this.” Garnet replied simply, giving her a thumbs up and a toothy smile before leaving towards her temple room.

“W-wait!” Bismuth tried, but failed to stop her.

That’s when the warp activated. The whooshing sound of the warp pad and the blue column flashing down shocked Bismuth into hurriedly straightening herself and her hair, brushing off her gem as nicely as she could; though she looked like a real

mess when she stood there waiting; sweating and twitching in anticipation.

Pearl was humming something as she returned from the warp pad, her face remaining neutral before she noticed the pale gem with rainbow hair standing there, almost startling her with her silent presence.

Pearl lit up with joy, clapping her hands together.

“Oh Bismuth! So good to see you again! Did you need something?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” Bismuth stood there trying to sound as stoic as possible but her posture said otherwise. She looked like she was imitating a wall.

“Oh… is there something wrong? If it’s about my criticisms of the wedding armour I-I I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything-“ she started rambling anxiously.

“What? No no no!” Bismuth shook her head. “It’s about… Us.”

Pearl’s eyes widened for a moment. “Us?” She repeated.

“Yes. Us.”

Pearl didn’t have internal organs, but it felt like she had a heart that just stopped beating for a second. She was worried, concerned, curious, flustered. She didn’t know why. Was it going to be what she thought it was?

Bismuth let out a deep sigh. “Pearl, I need to tell you something. Something that’s been on my mind for well… ever since I met you” she lowered herself to Pearl’s eye level, letting her face go warm without the worry of the reactions she might be getting.

Pearl’s irises went glossy for a moment. Something about the way Bismuth spoke so soflty felt so familar to her…

“Rose” Pearl swallowed, approaching her leader. Said leader turned around with a curious pout, her fluffy pink hair waving around the motion of her body. “Is something wrong, Pearl?” Rose asked worriedly. Pearl clenched her fists tightly. “Can I tell you something?”

Rose smiled warmly. “Of course Pearl, you can tell me anything!”

Pearl smiled slightly, a blush on her face. “Yes uhm.. well the thing is… I’ve been thinking about us..” Pearl admit, flustered.

“Us?” Rose asked, confused.

“Yes. Us.” Pearl continued to force her confidence, but was shaking on the inside. Rose sat down, looking at Pearl expectantly.

“I-I need to tell you s-something I’ve been m-meaning to tell you since we’ve been uhm… around” She gulped, blushing furiously.

Rose, moved, put her hands together, stars in her eyes.

“Yes Pearl?”

Pearl inhaled sharply and then finally let it out “I-I’ve always felt so close to you e-even more now and I-I want to be with you and I-I want to be your Pearl forever. Rose, I love you!”

Rose smiled widely with a giggle. “Aww Pearl I love you too! you’re such a funny gem! So loving and caring and you care about everyone so much!”

Pearl felt like her gem was cracking in two.

“Just the same way Greg-“ Rose suddenly perked up in realization. “Pearl! I need your advice on this! Greg has asked me to be his “Girl-friend?” I have no idea what that means, but he wants to see me tonight about it! What do you think I should go with for my attire? I want your opinion!” She squealed, bouncing up and down like an excited toddler.

“I-I see…” Pearl choked out, holding back tears.

“Pearl? What’s wrong?” Rose rested a hand on Pearl’s shoulder, looking into her eyes.”Oh-Oh it’s nothing!” Pearl forced a laugh, holding back tears as much as she possibly could.

“You mean the world to me, Pearl, you know that? So… black pants outfit or white flowing one?” Rose asked, showing off to her what looked like a tuxedo and a white dress similar to her own.

“Oh whatever you think looks best!” Pearl forced a smile. “Oh you’re right! I think the white one would make Greg really happy!” Rose sighed, blushing at the thought of seeing her human lover again.

“Y-yes I’m sure it would…”

“And Pearl?” Rose turned to her with a warm smile.

“Rose?” Pearl’s voice laced with longing and desperation.

“Don’t forget about our little outing tomorrow, just you me and Greg, my best friends in the whole world !” Rose chuckled warmly and went to hug Pearl. Rose was warm and soft, but Pearl only felt cold and broken.

“Well, wish me luck Pearl! Gotta go dress for the ocassion and impress Mr. universe! Hehe!” Rose got up almost immediately, running to her room.

Pearl stood there silent.

Eventually Rose said goodbye to her gems and left for her “date”, saying “don’t wait up!” Before disappearing into the night. When Garnet and Amethyst retreat to their rooms, all hell broke loose

Pearl fell to her knees and wept. She was angry. Angry at Greg, angry at Rose, angry at herself. What was she thinking confessing like that? She felt so useless and empty. Of course she chose Greg… she just wished deep down she hadn’t.

Everything hurt and it hurt for so long. She was so deeply in love with her Diamond, so deeply in love with Rose… but nothing ever really came of it. Rose made her choice, and she wasn’t it.

As the memory resurfaced, so did Pearl’s attention towards Bismuth who started rambling for a moment. “Pearl… that night we went out to the skating rink.” Bismuth swooned, blushing.

“That was one of best nights of my life”

Pearl’s cheeks went blue and she could not get a single word out.

Years and years of hiding her true feelings came bursting out of the rainbow gem.

“I’m going to honest with you, I always felt this way about you, even when you were falling for Rose. I had to hide eveything because I was afraid!” Bismuth explained, her voice becoming more and more emotional.

“I was afraid of what you would think of me and afraid of how you’d react. You don’t need anyone to be happy! I love that you are yourself and even more so that you’ve really come into your own” She continued causing Pearl to start tearing up, a happy smile on her face, her hands cupped together.

“Bismuth…” Pearl said, only finding enough courage for a soft gasp.

“What I’m trying to say is… I really like you Pearl, I always have and I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out sometime, maybe for a walk or somethin’ I’ve been trying to get rid of these feelings but no matter how hard I try, they just keep comin’ back harder than ever!” Bismuth’s face was completely flushed by now, but it felt so good to finally let these feelings out.

Pearl’s face was bright blue and she looked like she was about to collapse from the confession. It was so familar, except this time… she was the recipient! She almost couldn’t believe it!

Bismuth had always valued her while she was chasing after an impossible dream. Bismuth was always right there, ready to catch her, to laugh with her, to help her. That was until Rose bubbled her in secret... How much pain she was in over this and how much she tried to hide everything she felt about Pearl for so long.

Pearl was moved to tears.

She felt valued, appreciated, loved, seen. The opposite of how Rose made her feel after she was rejected for Greg. She really thought for so long that Rose was her ultimate fate, her true love, her fantasy turned reality. She would go back in time and tell her past self everything that she so obliviously missed before, if she could!

Pearl’s hands flew to her lips, tears running down her cheeks and blue blush still covering them.

“Pearl… I want to be your rock and if you don’t want that, I understand completely. I’ll always be there to support you no matter what descision you make” Bismuth finished, looking straight into Pearl’s eyes, tearing up at the same time.

“Bismuth I…” Pearl was completely stunned, almost shaking in shock.

Somehow, she felt nauseous, despite not having a stomach. This was so new and so different.

The awkward silence broken as Bismuth began stammering.

“I-I’m really sorry I didn’t want to overwhelm you I um… f-forget I said anything!” She forced a chuckle backing away to give Pearl space, feeling completely embarrassed. “Bismuth.” Pearl stared lovingly at the blacksmith.

“Yeah?” Bismuth turned back, blushing still. “I would love to go for a walk with you” Pearl smiled, speaking soflty, blushing still.

Bismuth let out a half-laugh half sigh of relief. “Really? Where did you wanna go?”

“Anywhere” Pearl held Bismuth’s hands in hers, despite the hand size difference. She reached her head towards Bismuth’s cheek and gave a quick peck, avoiding poking her nose into the taller gem’s face.

Bismuth froze, eyes wide and cheeks still as dark as ever.

“You’re the most beautiful, wonderful, powerful rock in the cosmos, you know that?” Bismuth swooned, almost falling over from the surprise peck.

Pearl chuckled flirtatiously. “Oh Bismuth, don’t be silly. That title belongs to a certain Blacksmith”

Bismuth laughed and couldn’t stop herself from scooping the ex-servant into her arms. Pearl yelped in surprise but was smiling from cheek to cheek, laughing.

“Bismuth, you smooth stone!” She flirted back.

“Who are you calling the smooth one, doll?” Bismuth nicknamed, looking deep into Pearl’s eyes. Pearl couldn’t help but chuckle, swooning over her once more.

For what felt like eternity, they spun around, sharing eachother’s loving gazes, finally finding one another.

“You know” Pearl began, flirtatiously. “Humans usually plan weeks ahead for these things called ‘dates’ but I think we should start right now!” She expressed with a loving gleam in her eyes.

“The most important thing to do on these romantic escapades, is to dress for the occassion!” Pearl said ‘as a matter of fact’. “I know just the attire to dress for!” She popped out with excitement.

“Oh? Dress nicely huh? I think I have a lil’ somethin’ for that!” Bismuth winked and walked over to the warp pad. “I’ll be right back, in my you could say, dating material!” She chuckled lovingly.

“Oh Bismuth you haven’t even seen the REAL fancy suit!” Pearl replied sultry.

Pearl came out of her room wearing the deluxe black tuxedo from Empire City and Bismuth warped back with a white Tuxedo instead.

The rest of day the two did everything they wanted to do together for a long time. Pearl helped Bismuth with puzzles, Bismuth and Pearl began to cook together and both of them talked about old times.

Then as the sun began to set, they walked out still in their formal clothes onto the quiet beach.

There they stood, staring at the calm ocean as the sun started to set over it. Pearl rested her head on Bismuth’s shoulder, watching it with content. “I guess this was uh our first date huh?” Bismuth laughed.

“The first of many” Pearl replied back, eyes closing as she rested closer into her shoulders.

Bismuth’s smile grew so much it hurt and her eyes were so wide and teary. She felt so happy, so calm, so relaxed.

The future was looking bright and it all started with tonight.

#bispearl #Steven universe #steven universe future #bismuth #Pearl #pearl su #bismuth su #pearl x bismuth #bismuth x pearl #fanfiction #su fanfic #tumblr fucked up my notes #I had them written in a format and tumblr #was like #nah let’s ruin her paragraphs #thanks a lot tumblr

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

All right here we go! 

Spoilers below for chapter 71 of PN

Oo nice, marinette POV is always fun in this

Ough little baby… not feeling mixed enough sounds difficult :(

Oh jeeze poor thing, wow yeah she kinda just lost it all in one go

Damn Fei almost succeeded in what hawkmoth has been trying to do for 1 year in like 12 hours

I’m going to be homeless, miraculous-less, I’m going to have to perform on the streets for money and wander through the streets lost and hungry until I eventually die in a trash can.! Always love marinette catastrophizing 

Ok but if panthera was there then you two could panic about both losing things together!! It would be great fun. 

Christ you really capture marinette’s constant state of high alert amazingly its honestly really funny

French. My god. French. Someone could speak French.

Marinette had found her.. her Shanghai savior. NO GIRL SHE STOLE FROM YOU BUT THIS IS FUNNY AS FUCK

IT GOT FUNNIER HELP CALLING HER A CASH COW????GIRL PLEASE I’M LOSING IT ON A SUNDAY MORNING

Ha idiot, yes Fei you have morals accept it. I know in the Shanghai special they basically had Marinette's epic aura of kindness remind Fei of her dad’s ideals, but i’m curious what’ll happen here

Fei forgor that to scam people you have to be certain type of person. Which she is not. 

Nah you got me tricked for a second when you mentioned Rose saying something at the start of Juleka’s POV i was like “girl what we get a rose POV??” but alas

Make Juleka visit Scotland and then I can comment on inconsistencies and shit the internet lies about, it would give me great joy

Bird employee?? Mr Cheng is so cool

The gorilla uses sign language?? Why did i not know this. That’s cool af

Hey Marinette is says gullible on the ceiling look up. Girly really trusts the first person she could communicate with directly after being mugged

Marinette and her slight of hand tricks return again!

Fei being baffled by kindness repaying in its own way is so much fun

Nah not the way Juleka and Adrien are bonding with Mr Cheng before Marinette does it-

Bastille is fun, i enjoy this bird

Guard cat Juleka is so real

Everything. She looked at herself in the bike mirror. Her damaged face, her ruined hands that were meant for outreached protection and kind generosity– gnarled into the claws of a thieving demon. Fei closed her eyes, remembering the emptiness of what should’ve been around her wrist, and remembering the emptiness of where her father should’ve still been standing. This paragraph goes so hard, i love it. 

Nah Fei pleeek talk to someone girly your so sad rn

Marinette is so little and darling

Juleka didn’t trust the darkness. Not to someone alone. Not to someone that wasn’t her. Emo ass motherfucker (but also valid AF)

No because why am i still so suspicious about Adrien finding out. Like girl please. 

NO BECAUSE THE SUSPICION IS GETTING HIGHER GIRLY IS GOING TO SNEAK OTU

Mr Cheng panicking- oh dear, someone please give the guy a hug

Hey. how does Fei expect Marinette to pay her when she already stole all her money. 

GIRL STOP TELLING EVERYONE HOW PRECIOUS THEY ARE TO YOU PLEEK

Wait no girl she needs the earrings. Girl please. Fei why. 

HUH WHAT PLAGG CAN JUST LEAVE??

This is so awesome and silly style and i love it

Alright, chapter 72 now, I’m rolling this into one review cause I’ve got the flow

NEVER MIND THE NEW CHAPTER IS 30K I WILL SPLIT THESE

chapter 71 was banging, loved it cap! now the monster that is chapter 72 shall be slain

LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

#panthera noire au #sneak a cat

[cjsinkythoughts]

A History Lesson

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4741

Warnings: Vulgar language, I think that’s it (it’s mainly fluff like Bucky’s)

Summary: You never were fond of history...but if history gives you a man like that? Maybe you could deal with it.

A/N: Here it is! A little later than I had hoped, but my brother is visiting, it was his birthday this week, work’s been a bit hectic, and I ended up writing a little something for Bucky’s birthday on Wednesday, which I didn’t mean to. I got it done, though! First Date with our dear Cap’n Spangles! I have all the First Date ideas for the other Avengers lined up, but I think I’m gonna put this on hiatus for now. I’m gonna try focusing on my College!AU at the moment. If you guys want, I’ll share my First Date plans, though. If I find time, I’ll write the next one. If you haven’t noticed, I have a fondness for collages, so I might do what I’m doing for my College!AU Project and make collages for the other First Dates before writing them. Anyways, enough with my ramblings. Enjoy the date!

You keep checking the clock, waiting for this lecture to be done. You typically enjoy school, but history isn’t a strong suit for you. You try in history, you really do, but all the information - the dates, people, places - it’s too much. You constantly mix things up, no matter how hard you study. And you don’t really get the hype. Who cares what these dead guys did? It happened, it’s done, and it’s time to move on.

“That’s all for today! Don’t forget your papers are due on Monday! You’re dismissed!”

You let out a groan at the mention of the cursed research paper. You had stayed up for hours the previous nights working on it, but so far you have squat. The essay is on the Second World War (more specifically the differences of life between Americans and Europeans at the time), and you know you should’ve done it when it was given a week ago, but your shitty memory makes it difficult to write a paper without five million textbooks in front of you and you don’t have time to go to the library every night between work, friends, and other projects. So, you haven’t done it yet.

Exhausted, mentally and physically, you collect your things and head out of the lecture hall. You pull out your phone to text your friends, telling them you have to work on a paper tonight and you can’t meet up for dinner like you all usually do on Fridays. Deciding to take a breather before working, you start out to the bench overlooking the Potomac River, which you always sat at to relax and just…be. The scenic walk through DC and the sight of the steady river flowing besides the busy city always calms you. 

You sit there for a few moments, letting the slight breeze chill the skin that’s warmed by the sun, listening to it ruffle the trees. The blush pink blossoms that appear when Spring sings her song and chases away Winter flutter to the newly grown, bright green grass below. You enjoy all the seasons, unable to help but love the unique beauty each brings, and Spring is no exception, despite the allergies and tests she brings.

And speaking of tests…

A soft sigh passes your lips as you get out your laptop. You might as well start writing, or at least researching, that paper. You never were good at relaxing when there’s work to be done.

You’re so engrossed in getting the stupid essay done and over with that you don’t notice the jogger who pauses in his run by the very bench you are slaving away on. “Savin’ this seat for anyone?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. Go ahead.” You answer distractedly, not even looking up from your screen as the owner of the deep voice sits besides you.

A few more minutes pass in comfortable silence, before you ruin it with a grumble and delete half the paragraph you just wrote. “That doesn’t make sense.” You change tabs to look over the information on the page you have pulled up again, only to furrow your eyebrows. You’re pretty sure the information is wrong. You may have a shitty memory, but you’re sure that the information given on this page is in contrast to the information given in the book you were reading a couple days ago.

“What’re you workin’ so hard on there, honey?”

You let out a huff, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. “Some dumb research paper for school! It’s on World War Two, and I can’t remember what’s right and what’s wrong and it’s a stupid topic anyways that my stupid teacher assigned! Who fucking cares about a hundred years ago? And how the hell am I supposed to know this? I wasn’t alive! You know what I…”

The words die on your tongue as you finally glance over at the stranger keeping you company.

Blonde hair that seems gold with the way the sun is hitting the strands, which are damp and in slight disarray due to his exercise. Bright blue eyes reflecting the sky above, hidden beneath long lashes that you’re immediately envious of. Pretty pink lips, matching the cherry blossoms on the trees surrounding you, pulling up into an amused sort of smile. The makings of a beard lining his jaw and littering his cheeks.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. You just ranted about how stupid history is to Captain fucking America. You just ranted about how you have to write a dumb essay on World War Two to Captain fucking America.

Ignoring the way your body heats up, starting in your toes and climbing up your legs, chest, and neck to reach the tips of your ears, a nervous little chuckle is all you can give. You clear your throat, trying to think of how to apologize. “I guess you wouldn’t know what I mean, huh?”

What in the ever loving fuck was that? That was not an apology!

You clear your throat and try again. “I-I mean…sorry. It’s not - I didn’t mean-”

“No, no. It’s fine, sweetheart.” The grin he shoots you makes you glad you aren’t standing up, knowing full well your knees would’ve buckled if you were. You open your mouth to apologize again, but he shakes his head before you can speak. “Really. It’s okay. I get it. I used to be a student too. And you’re right; it was a long time ago and there’s a lot of things that happened. Even I have a hard time keeping track of everything that went down.”

You merely blink at him, nodding slowly. Say something. For the love of God, please just say something. Anything! “Yeah. I can barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning.” Really? You’re sitting besides the one and only Captain America and that’s what you decide to say?

You feel yourself slump your shoulders slightly, trying to shrink down into absolute nothingness. But even that wouldn’t work because he’s got that friend of his that could shrink and he’d find you. It seems that you were destined to be embarrassed in front of one of the most beautiful human beings on the planet. Screw the universe.

Instead of teasing you or embarrassing you further, he chuckles and nods in agreement, his eyes lighting up. “You’re not the only one. My pal Clint has got the absolute worst memory. We tease him all the time for it. How he became an agent with the memory of a goldfish, I’ll never know.” You laugh at that, your muscles relaxing and your anxiety easing up.

“Yeah, well, I’ve gotta get through college before I’m in the clear.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Uh…so, a World War Two paper, huh? Need some help? I’m kind of an expert on the topic.”

Breath hitching as he scoots closer, you swallow thickly and shrug. “I don’t want to bother you. You look like you’re in the middle of a run.” You gesture to the tight ass t-shirt hugging his torso that you’re sure is sizes too small for him and the joggers hanging off his hips.

Following your gesture, he looks down, before shaking his head. “Nah. I’ve already ran a few more miles than I was going to today.”

“Are-are you sure?”

There’s that grin again. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive him tutoring you if he keeps  giving you that adorable toothy smile. “Honest. I’ve got the rest of the day. We can go to the library if you want. Or we can stay here. Whatever works best for you. I don’t mind either way.”

You blink again, like an idiot, as you process his words. Whatever works best for you. What a gentleman. “Uhh…I was about to head to the library anyways, but I really don’t want to bother you-”

“Trust me, honey. It’d be my pleasure.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

You let out a soft laugh and nod at his insistence, starting to pack up your things. “Okay. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You stand up as he does and offer your hand.

“Steve. But I guess you figured that out.” Taking your hand, you expect him to shake it, but he squeezes it softly and brings it to his lips instead.

Clearing your throat, you tease him a bit to hide your bashfulness at his actions. “You’re a real gentleman, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a slight smirk, gently dropping your hand and letting it go after another squeeze. “My momma raised nothing less.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud.”

His playful eyes go slightly more somber at that, his smirk morphing into a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Giving no reply, you smile softly and nod your head to the path. He nods back before quickly falling into step besides you, asking you more about your paper as you walk to the library.

* * * * * * * *

Giggling behind your hand to stay quiet, or at least attempt to since you both had already been berated by the librarians for being too loud, your attention is once again diverted to Steve and his stories.

It started out fine; he helped you find reliable books and told you which things were true. But not even half an hour passed before Steve told you a story about the Howling Commandos after something in a book reminded him of it. Your concentration since then has been split between your paper and Steve’s retelling of his past.

“Sorry. I keep distracting you. What’s next?”

You snicker again and shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m almost done anyways. I’ve actually written down a few things you said, if you don’t mind me using them. My professor can’t exactly argue with Captain America, now can he?”

His lips pull up and his shoulders shake in silent laughter. “I guess not. Of course I don’t mind. You can quote me anytime. See?” He nudges you with his shoulder playfully. “History isn’t so bad.”

“Not when you’re telling it.” You respond earnestly, grinning up at him.

“Eh, Bucky’s always been a better storyteller than me.” He gives a little shrug and rubs the back of his neck.

You shake your head at his modesty. “Well I think you do just fine. You’re the first person to get me interested in history. Hey, can you read this over for me? I just need to finalize this paragraph and do the conclusion.”

When you receive silence as an answer, you look over at the blonde with an eyebrow raised. The ocean eyes scanning over you make you a bit self conscious, so you shift slightly in your seat, making him come back from whatever thoughts overtook his mind. “Sorry. Of course I can, honey. That’s what I’m here for. Let me see.”

He gives you a few pointers on what to add and what to get rid of, before you finally finish, saving your work and closing your laptop with a huff. 

“What a mind workout. I’m sure my brain’s got abs now.”

Heads swivel towards you two as Steve guffaws, a lady a few tables down shushing him. He apologizes, still snickering. “Abs, huh?”

“I mean, not as good as yours but…” You freeze, inwardly facepalming. And you were doing so well.

He gives you a cheeky grin. “I’ve got good abs?”

“Oh don’t give me that!” You hiss out quietly. “You know you have good abs. I’m just stating facts is all.”

Another soft chuckle leaves those pretty lips and he twists in his seat to crack his back before standing to collect the books you both got out. “When’s the paper due again?”

You stand to help him, but you get a case of the butterfingers just as you go to pick the books up, making the pile tumble to the floor. “Ah shit.” Steve smiles gently at you as you huff and give him an exasperated look. “My bad.”

He snickers, bending down to help you despite having his own books to carry, like the gentleman he is. “So? Due date?”

“Monday.” You answer with a sigh, straightening up. You carefully set the books on the table to pile them better. “We should get the grade back by Friday.”

He hums, taking a few more books in those strong arms of his. “Ah, well, you’ll get a good grade. I believe in you.”

You smirk at him as you shift your bag so you could carry books under your arms. “I’m sure I will with your help, Captain.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes at your teasing manner. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Of course. I had a good time.” He sends that stunning smile your way and this time you are standing. Luckily you have a table to lean on casually instead of falling on your face. “Plus, now you’ve got a free weekend.”

“Ugh. I wish.” You shake your head. “This is my final semester before I graduate. There’s loads to do. But this makes it easier.” Heading through the aisles of the library, you catch sight of the time on a clock on the wall and your eyes widen. You’d been there for a little over three hours! “Damn! I’m sorry I took up your Friday, though. I’m sure there’s things you want to do before you have to go back to New York, huh?”

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he runs a hand through his golden locks and drops the books he had in his arms on the desk for returns. “Not really. I’m here for the next couple weeks, actually. Meetings and stuff. Plus, it doesn’t even take me an hour to get here, so I can really come whenever I want.”

“That’s nice.” You follow his lead and set your books down, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I wish I could go to New York whenever I want. I’m way too poor for that.”

He chuckles again. You’ll never get tired of the sound of his laughter. “I’m sure you’ll get there one day.”

You shrug half heartedly, not really believing him. You’re barely making it in DC. There’s no way you could make it in the Big Apple. “Sure. Someday. I’m serious, though. I’m sorry you wasted  your time with some stressed out college student instead of enjoying time with your friends.”

“I’m serious too, honey. It’s no problem; I enjoyed it. And it’s not a waste of my time. Not as long as you get a good grade.”

You laugh as the two of you head out of the building, stopping on the steps and facing each other. “How will you know if I get a good grade?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Meet me at the bench next Friday.” He finally said, his eyes sparkling. “Then we’ll see. Until then, Y/N.”

You grin, taking the large hand he offers you, firmly shaking it before he can kiss your knuckles, making him snicker. “Until then, Steve.”

* * * * * * * *

Feet pounding against the concrete, you practically jump when you spot the man already sitting at the bench. “Steve!” You shout happily, waving your paper in the air. The blonde shoots up, a brow raised in curiosity. “I got a 97!”

You come to a halt in front of him, but it’s too quick, so your clumsy feet trip over each other. Before you can fall, he catches you with ease, smiling down at you in amusement. Small pants leave your lips as sweat trickles down your spine. Where’s that breeze when you need it?

“Uhm…oops?” What the hell was that?! That was embarrassing, that’s what it was!

He chuckles, straightening you up. “You were saying?” 

With pride lifting up the corners of your mouth, you shove the paper at his chest, once again grateful that he ignored your blunderings. “97%!”

“I told you you’d be fine. And I knew it wasn’t a waste of my time.” Steve looks up from the paper to give you a toothy grin.

“Thank you again.” You take the paper he hands back to you and shove it in your bag. “I probably would’ve failed the class without this grade. Is there really nothing I can do to pay you back for your time?”

He taps his chin in faux-thought, before tilting his head innocently. “You can loan me some of your time on Sunday.”

You purse your lips, confusion written over your features. “My time? On Sunday? Oh!” You light up, figuring he just needs help with something. “Yeah, duh. Okay. What do you need help with? I can promise I’ll try my hardest, but I might not-”

“No, no. Honey, that’s not-” he laughs, shaking his head and grabbing your hand to make you stop rambling. “I’m askin’ you out.”

“Out?” You pause, registering what that meant. “Like…on a date?” Is he serious? There’s no way he wants to go on a date with you. You pretty much called his life story boring, to his face, and then made him spend three hours on a Friday evening at the library working on a college paper with you.

He snickers with a nod. “Yes, on a date. So whaddya say, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” You blurt out without thinking, before you shy back, feeling yourself heat up as you tend to do around this God of a man. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d love to. Sunday. I can do that.”

He beams adorably, like a child being allowed to buy his favorite candy bar. Or a puppy with his favorite toy. Yeah…he reminds you of a puppy. Which only makes him that much cuter.

“Awesome! Meet me here at noon. Does that work?”

You nod vigorously. “That works perfectly.”

“Perfect.” He repeats, before taking your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips once more.

* * * * * * * *

You’re sitting on the bench, tapping your toes nervously and checking your phone every minute. He said noon and it’s only eleven thirty. It’s a bit inconvenient, to say the least, when the place you go to relax is the place you’re meeting the person making you anxious. You could barely sleep the previous night, too many doubts lingering in your head. You seem to always be making a fool of yourself in front of him, but he was the one who asked you out, so that had to count for something.

You try not to think too hard about it, instead thinking back to last Friday in the library and how his features lifted when he told stories of his childhood and the Howling Commandos and the grin he got when he told you about the things they used to do that would get them in trouble.

“But I’m Captain America, and who’s gonna say no to this face?”

A little giggle leaves your lips as you remember his words, before you’re startled back to reality as a familiar smooth voice sounds besides you.

“Whatcha giggling at, honey?”

You whip over to see Steve grinning in amusement, leaning on the back of the bench. Your eyes drag down his figure. Another too tight t-shirt showing every ridge and curve on his torso, a jacket over his broad shoulders along with a casual pair of jeans. You had seen a meme about Steve having the proportions of a Dorito and, looking at him now, you can see how true it was. It almost makes you laugh again, but you remember what exactly is happening, and you suddenly can’t find anything funny.

“Sweetheart? You alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes. Yeah. I’m fine. I was just…thinking.”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking and leaning his forearms against the back of the bench next to where you’re sat. “And those adorable little giggles?”

There’s that familiar flush that you’ve learned to ignore, praying to God he didn’t notice your heart skipping a beat. “Uh, I just remembered something. That’s all.”

He gives a little hum, before hopping over the back and landing besides you. “Seems like we both had the same idea. Gettin’ here early.”

“If you must know, I was just…” You shrug. “To be honest, I’m a little anxious.”

“I’m not that scary, am I?” He teases, nudging you gently.

You roll your eyes and give him a look. “I don’t think there’s a bone in your body capable of being scary. I’m just…I’m nervous I’m gonna embarrass myself…again.”

Steve shakes his head, looking at you earnestly. “You’re not gonna embarrass yourself.”

Picking at the hem of your shirt, you scoff, shaking your head. “I already have. The amount of times I’ve tripped or said something stupid or rambled, which I’m doing right now, or-”

“Honey, honey. Slow down.” The blonde chuckles. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find all of those things endearing. Now, the amount of times I’ve seen my teammates slip and fall on their faces while chasing an enemy? That’s embarrassing. Just the other day, Buck tripped on the roof of a car. Sam has it recorded.”

You let out a laugh at that and nod. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all insecure on you-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Steve insists. “Now,” he stands and offers his hand. “Let’s go get some lunch, yeah?”

You look at his hand before looking up at him and taking it without hesitation. “Okay.”

* * * * * * * *

After rounds of questions during lunch, Steve took you around the Smithsonian to all the different museums. Just like history, you had never been overly fond of museums. You typically walked around for a little bit, never really reading the information, only enjoying the pictures.

It’s different with Steve. Just like how it was different writing the research paper with him. He makes everything interesting, telling you his own facts and stories. Especially once you get to his exhibit in the Air and Space Museum.

Once you arrive, he puts on a hat and ducks his head, trying not to bring attention to you both while on a date. You tease him a bit, swinging your linked hands as you walk in with a cheeky grin. He nudges you with his elbow, his own smile painted on his lips.

You can’t help but listen and hold onto his every word, as if you’d die if you forget a single sentence. The light in his eyes as he talks about his past, showing you the pictures and plaques excitedly. Like a child during show and tell, he’s practically skipping from exhibit to exhibit, dragging you along behind him.

Giggling at his elation, you eagerly, and with no resistance, let him take you through his story. “They keep updating it.” He explains as you leave the area with World War Two and the Howling Commandos, entering through a corridor with modern pictures of him and the Avengers. “Every couple years or so they call me and tell me they’re adding another thing.”

“Doesn’t that get annoying?” You wonder, reading a wall about the Battle of Manhattan with interest. “Your whole life being put on display for everyone to see?”

Steve shrugs. “I dunno. I’ve never really minded. They don’t put in personal things, so it’s not too bad. You could learn more from the internet about me.”

You nod, knowing how true that really was. “You’ve got a point. Still. It must be a bit weird being a national icon.”

“I’ll admit, people stopping me on the street is getting a little old. I used to wish to be someone who changed the world. Now I have and sometimes I wish I could be normal. But I wouldn’t change what I’ve done. Who I am. Not if people can learn from it. Not if I can keep people safe.”

Turning away from the wall to glance at Steve, who has his hands in his pockets studying the wall, you smile and tilt your head. “You’re a good man, Steve Rogers.”

He turns to you, his lips pulling up. “That’s all I hope for.” His voice is quiet, earnest, before it becomes lighter as he gestures back to the wall. “You know the first thing we did after winning was go out for shawarma? It was Tony’s idea.”

“No way.” You laugh. “All six of you?”

“Yeah! We go there for every Battle of Manhattan Anniversary, now. I’ll take you some time. It’s a nice place.”

“Is that a promise?”

He smirks at your teasing tone. “Absolutely.”

* * * * * * * *

After your museum hopping, he takes you to Arlington Cemetery to show you a few friends and fellow soldiers he met all those years ago. It’s such a personal intimate thing that he shares, and you think you shouldn’t be there to witness it, but he’s quick to reassure you that’s not the case. That he wouldn’t have anyone else by his side, listening to his stories.

By the time you get back to the city, it’s getting dark, so you two head out for dinner before Steve takes you up the Washington Monument to look at the city lights. He makes sure you have the top all to yourselves; there’s perks of being an Avenger - especially one of the leaders.

“Alright, alright.” Leaning on the rail, you turn to him with a smile. “So maybe history isn’t as bad as I originally thought.”

“Yeah? I convinced you, did I?”

You roll your eyes at his smirk, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Maybe a bit. But only when you’re telling it. You think there’s any way you could come to history with me?” You joke with a laugh, feeling yourself flush at the chuckle and grin he gives you.

“I wish I could, honey.” He spoke softly, running a thumb over your knuckles. “Unfortunately, I’ve got work to do. I’m heading back to New York tomorrow. I’ll be back on Friday, though. If you would want to-”

You beam and nod energetically. “I’d love to go out again, Stevie.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, he beams back. “Fantastic.” He looks back out to the window and gives a little sigh. “It’s gettin’ late and you’ve got class tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I should probably get going. Do you, I mean, would you mind walking me home?” You blink up at him through your lashes hopefully.

“Of course!” His eyes - which you found throughout the day weren’t entirely blue, but had some green hues to them - lit up as you two start towards the elevator. He tucks you under his strong arm, pulling you close. “You wanna get ice cream or something on the way?”

“You read my mind, Captain.”

* * * * * * * *

By the time you reach your door, you’ve both finished your ice cream and he’s telling yet another story while you laugh, once again swinging your linked hands. 

When it comes time to say goodbye, you can’t help but wish your hand could stay in his for a while longer. Knowing that you’d be saying farewell, you hold on a bit tighter. “Pick me up on Friday?”

He nods, squeezing your hand before letting it go and brushing his fingertips along your cheek. “I’ll call you later too, alright, sweetheart?”

“Okay.” You agree eagerly. “You gonna kiss me goodnight now, soldier?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles softly, before gently grabbing your chin. Using his other hand, he pulls you closer by the waist, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet and perfect, just like him, but it ends too quickly for your liking. He pulls back, nudging his nose against yours, and murmuring against your lips. “Sleep well.”

You smile, leaning your forehead against his. “Good night, Stevie.”

Stepping away, he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “G’night.”

You stop him before he could turn all the way. “Steve?” He pauses to look over his shoulder at you with an eyebrow raised. You have a question, and you can’t help but ask it, it having been on your mind for days. “Why’d you stop your run just to sit by me?”

“And leave a beautiful dame like yourself before I could get your name? I may be a super soldier, honey, but I’m still a man. Abyssinia Friday, Y/N.”

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #marvel #steve rogers #captain america #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #first dates w/ avengers #💛🧭

[voiceswithoutlips]

Calico - Chapter Three

— pairing: Hybrid ot7 x Human Reader (Female) — genre: hybrid AU , fluff, angst, slow burn (like real slow), eventual smut — word count: 1.8K — Rating: M — warnings: trauma, mention of past abuse.

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— chapter summary:

Y/N runs a animal shelter, Calico was built on a simple principle, to help those who were in need. What will Y/N do when her sanctuary is threatened by an unexpected hybrid?

— A/N: This is going to be a series, I’m just getting back to writing, so I’d really appreciate your input and feedback <3

Ch. 1  Ch. 2 Ch. 3.5  Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6

Yeah, you fucking with some wet-ass pussy

Bring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy

I woke up to WAP blazing through the house at eight in the morning. That was the moment I knew I was going to kill Jason. Well, not literally, but there will be payback. 

It was Monday, my favorite day of the week. Mondays have such a bad reputation for absolutely no reason. Personally, I liked a good Monday, it was the day when I organized the rest of my week. In case you are wondering, yes, I’m a nerd and the sight of stationary makes me drool. I got ready quickly, I had planned lunch with Song Hwa today, and after that DOBBY WAS FREE! 

“JASON,” I screamed as I stumbled into the kitchen, “you are so dead.” 

“Nah, you love me too much!” He laughed. How dare he! 

“Who told you that? Just you wait, one of these days I’m going to disown you, you brat!” 

Jungkook was sitting at the table eating cereal Jason must’ve gotten him. At least one of us was functional. I could barely take care of myself. Jungkook had gotten a bit more comfortable with us over the past week. The first two days he had stuck to his room but then I introduced him to our PS4 and he was hooked. The kid was a natural. He was wearing Jason’s clothes that were a size too small on him. His eyes widened at my murderous declaration. He was so cute.

“Don’t worry bunny, I won’t kill him ...yet,” I narrowed my eyes at Jason. I still couldn’t understand how we ended up becoming friends. Jason and I were always at each other’s throat when we were in college. Not a day went by without us going head to head, don’t even get me started on the mountain of assignments that we had to do as a punishment for disturbing the peace. 

“I’m going out today, do you want to come to the town with me? We could get you some new clothes, and maybe some ice cream, we are running dangerously low,” I asked while sipping on some overly sweet coffee. I mean, I could buy clothes for him but first, I had no idea what his size was, and second I had no idea what his style was. I myself was a walking fashion disaster, if it was socially acceptable I’d wear pajamas every day, to every event but alas! This world is cruel to those who can’t match their clothes. 

Jungkook nodded his approval and after our not-so-filling breakfast we left. It was a 2 hour ride to Seoul and on the way I pointed out landmarks in case Jungkook ever wanted to go out on his own. I made a mental note to teach him how to drive. The aircon was on full blast, it was summer, the grumpiest of all seasons. 

I was wearing black sneakers, black jeans and a black hoodie like a goth pauper. Jungkook was wearing Jason’s oversized hoodie and jeans, a size smaller, that hugged his lower body like a second skin, I had to constantly remind myself to keep my eyes on the road. Hey, I hadn’t gotten laid in months, not that I’d ever look at Jungkook that way, he was just a kid, even if he had the body of a Greek god. 

“Here we are, bunny, you gotta follow some safety guidelines okay?” I said as I parked in front of the mall. 

He nodded. I wondered when he was going to start talking comfortably. Was he just shy or scared? Or both?

“First, don’t go anywhere alone, stay in my sight. I don’t want to lose you. And second, let’s hide your adorable ears,” I leaned over and pulled the hood over his head. He blushed, I almost cooed at him, why was he so cute. Be still my heart!

“If it gets too scary, just hold my hand, okay?” I said as we walked in through the doors. It was a good day to go shopping, there weren’t as many people on a weekday. “Go on, you can buy whatever you want, I’ll follow you around,” I grinned, his eyes were darting around from shop to shop.

“Can I?” he asked nervously. 

“Of course honey,” I encouraged patting his head. 

We spent the next two hours going from store to store. Jungkook was hesitant at first but after he realized that I had meant what I said he got excited. He’d take something off the shelf and run over to show me, he did that with every single thing that we bought. I was having the time of my life looking at him having fun, he was like a kid in a candy store. I wondered how excited he’d be if I actually took him to a candy store, I mentally added it to my to-do list. 

He was still non-verbal, which was making me worry. Was he uncomfortable with talking? Was he nervous, scared? I kept wondering. The only times that he had spoken, his voice was small and unsure, as if the words he was saying held the weight of the world. 

We ended up being late for the meeting with Song Hwa. The shopping bags barely fit in the trunk but somehow we achieved the unachievable. She had called me in to talk about Jungkook’s case, she had done some research and she insisted on talking in person. It worked for me though, that meant I could take the day off and relax. 

Song Hwa’s office was in one of those big commercial complexes. We had her on retainer but she worked for one of the biggest law firms in the country. Jungkook grabbed my hand as soon as I opened the office door. He was sniffing the air furiously, fear on his face. I peeked through the little crack that I had opened. There was a man sitting across from my favorite lawyer. I had seen him around Song Hwa’s firm, he was one of her colleagues. I had no idea why Jungkook was afraid of him, he seemed perfectly normal to me, but then again I didn’t have superhuman abilities unlike my bunny. 

His voice got closer and the door opened. As usual, my brain stopped working. I grabbed Jungkook’s neck and pulled his head on my shoulder to hide his face. Song Hwa and the man stepped out of the office and looked at us as if we had sprouted a fifth head. It must’ve been a sight, us holding hands and Jungkook’s face buried in my neck. I just looked at Song Hwa who made some excuse to the man in the beige suit to get him to leave. I was too embarrassed to register what she had said. 

“Is he gone?” I whispered, before Song Hwa could answer, Jungkook nodded in my neck. I stepped away from him, still holding his hand. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” another nod. He was redder than a tomato, I guess he was twice as embarrassed. 

“What the fuck?” Song Hwa’s expression matched her question. I sighed. I told her what happened as we sat down in her office. 

“His name is Brian, he is a sleazebag and a coward. I wouldn’t worry about him,” Song Hwa reassured Jungkook. I didn’t like it, I could see how scared and uncomfortable Jungkook was. He hadn’t let go of my hand and he was clutching it as if his life depended on it. We ended up leaving her office and going to a nearby restaurant for lunch. It was well past noon and I was starving, I’d bet my Bleach collection that Jungkook was starving to. I was used to skipping meals and starving until I got a hunger headache but I couldn’t do that to him. I sucked at taking care of people. 

“Here,” Song Hwa handed me a newspaper while I was stuffing some fries in my mouth. She had highlighted a small article, just a paragraph not worthy of front page news. It was about a stolen lab equipment from an Apexi lab. There was no mention of a hybrid. 

“Please tell me this is good news,” I said through clenched teeth. Even though I knew it was terrible news, I could always hope. A multinational pharmaceutical company doesn’t just hide the fact that their lab animals were stolen along with a hybrid and their research destroyed. Unless it was something big. 

“It's not and you know that,” Song Hwa had terrible bedside manners. 

“Let’s talk about this tomorrow, today we feast!” I tried to sound enthusiastic but I failed terribly. Worrying about it would only ruin the rest of the day, not like I could do anything about it at the moment so I decided to ignore the screaming voice in my head and focus on the delicious meal that had suddenly turned bland. 

Jungkook had fallen asleep on our way back. His head was resting on the back of the seat, eyes closed, soft lips slightly parted. Every time he scrunched his nose my heart made cooing noises. How was he even more adorable when he slept, I could watch him for hours. His hair was covering his forehead, I had forgotten about his haircut. I wondered if they were as soft as they looked. I lightly ran my fingers through his hair, yep, his hair was super soft. I felt like a stalker so I mentally shook myself and focused on the road. 

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#bts #bts ot7 #bts fluff #bts smut #bts x reader #bts x you #hybridbtsnetwork #bcc #btscreatorscorner #thebtswritersclub #bangtaninn #castlebangtan #hybridts #btsfanfiction #ot7 smut #ot7 fluff #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #park jimin #kim namjoon #jung hoseok #min yoongi #kim seokjin #sssc #calico

[quickspinner]

Month of Miracles - Moments of Wonder

Well my plans for this prompt month definitely tanked but that’s okay, I’m still gonna finish this Hallmark AU at least. I’m gonna try not to write a ten paragraph authors note detailing all my struggles with this piece and just say, I hope the intention comes through even with all the life interruptions.

Find the prompt list here!

Hallmark Movie AU Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 (end) | Read Month of Miracles on AO3

“Spaghetti?” Rose screeched. “Luka, nobody looks good eating spaghetti. She’ll be uncomfortable. Make something else.”

Luka looked at the ceiling for a moment and prayed for patience. “It’s not like this is a date,” he muttered, going to look through the pantry to see what else he could make. Rose’s pestering was making him nervous, and his hand hovered over several options before he shook himself and picked up a bag of rice. Casserole seemed like such a homely option but—

Not a date , he reminded himself resolutely. He didn’t want to make Marinette uncomfortable. She hadn’t agreed to a date, so it wasn’t one, and he wasn’t going to let Rose’s fantasizing make him treat it like one.

“Casserole?” Rose said doubtfully when he got out the pan. 

Luka groaned. “Out, Rose.” He grabbed the kitchen towel hanging on the oven rail and snapped it at her, making her squeak and jump back. She folded her arms with a pout. “Nope. Not gonna work on me,” he told her, flapping her out of the kitchen with the towel like a fly. “Get lost.” 

“I’m just trying to help,” Rose wailed as she backed away. 

“And stay out,” Luka told her shortly, and turned to go back in the kitchen. He leaned on the counter and sighed. He was a patient guy, and he liked Rose, and okay so she was right that he and Marinette would hit it off, but— enough , already. He was nervous enough about whether she would understand what he wanted to show her tonight, and not really sure why it was important to him anyway. 

Maybe it was lingering guilt for disappearing without any real explanation or apology to his fans. Maybe if he could make even one fan understand, he’d feel better. 

Orrrr maybe it has nothing to do with your fans and you just want Marinette to understand, Rose’s voice sing-songed in his head, because you liiiiiike her. Luka sighed. 

He did like her. He liked her, and he wanted to know her, and the only way he knew of to do that was to invite her to know him. He sighed again, and went back to his dinner preparations.

Marinette knocked on the Couffaines’ door with so many butterflies in her stomach that she wasn’t at all sure she was going to be able to eat. It had been easy to accept the invitation with Luka there in front of her, with his relaxed smile and calm presence, but by the time she got back to her grandmother’s house, her brain had gone into a panicked spiral of overthinking that had her feeling jumpy and on edge. She always put thought into her appearance, but she’d agonized over it tonight, afraid of looking too...date-like. In the end she’d kept her pigtails and kept her makeup light, and worn a slightly oversized cream sweater over red leggings. Easy, seasonally appropriate, not unflattering but not aiming to attract, either. 

When the door flew open, Rose’s excited, beaming face did nothing to ease her nerves. As Rose dragged her inside, bouncing a little, Marinette had an unsettling feeling like she had been caught in a trap of some kind, and it didn’t get any better when Rose introduced her to Luka’s sister. Juleka gave her a quick once over and smirked, and Marinette was struck by an urge to flee the premises.  

Then Luka was there, taking her elbow gently and somehow getting everyone moving to the table. He wasn’t dressed for a date either, wearing a slightly worn navy pullover with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and jeans that had seen better days. The look he gave her as he escorted her to the dining room said please ignore them, we both know better, and Marinette began to relax a little bit. That’s right. Rose might be scheming but she and Luka had already talked it out, and they knew where they stood. They were friends, and whatever he wanted to show her tonight had nothing to do with...with wooing her, or whatever Rose seemed to think was going on.

Dinner wasn’t fancy, either, and that made her feel better too. She managed to strike up a conversation with Juleka after Luka pointed out that many of the photographs on the walls were Juleka’s work. He turned all of Rose’s attempts to get them started on personal topics into casual conversation, and Marinette honestly could have kissed him just for making everything so... easy.

Not that she would. Not that he wanted her to. Not that she wanted to! Oh no, she was starting again…

Marinette nearly jumped out of her seat when a peppy tune blared out seemingly from nowhere. Luka put a steadying hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile while Rose pulled her phone out of her pocket, frowning. 

“Excuse me a second,” Rose said apologetically, “It’s work so I better see what they want.” 

Marinette had to blink for a moment. She’d forgotten that normal people didn’t take phone calls during dinner.

“Sabrina, what’s up?” Rose chirped, dabbing at her mouth with her napkin as she held the phone to her ear and slipped out of her chair to walk into the other side of the room—not that it really made a difference since they could all still hear her. “Well, finally, what took so long? So, what’s the big deal?” There was a pause, and Rose frowned. “Come down there? Why are you being so dramatic, Sabrina, can’t you just tell me?” 

That got Luka’s attention. He shot Rose an alarmed look, and Rose rolled her eyes at him. “Okay, fine. I’m on my way.” She hung up the phone and came back over to kiss Juleka’s cheek. “I have to go. There’s something up with the costumes for the children’s pageant and Sabrina’s making a big deal about it. I’ll come back after I find out what’s going on.” She grinned at Luka and Marinette. “Have fun without me.” She fluttered her hand and left the table, blowing a kiss to them all as she flounced out of the door.

Luka gaped after her for a moment. No, no, this was no good. Rose’s excited fluttering aside, she and Juleka were supposed to go do their own thing and get so distracted with each other that he could talk to Marinette in peace, but without Rose—Luka glanced at his sister, and saw her smirking at him. Luka tried to convey with nothing but his eyes that if she ruined this for him he’d never forgive her. Juleka just rolled her eyes and went back to eating. 

“Children’s pageant?” Marinette was repeating next to him in confusion. “At the library? I thought that was usually a church thing.” 

“Oh, it is,” Juleka smirked. “The church has one every year too, and Rose...Rose has a beef with it. Let’s just say they’ve had the same Joseph and Mary for the last three years and Rose doesn’t feel like it represents the proper Christmas spirit.” 

“Oh,” Marinette said, blinking. “Huh.” 

“Are you finished, Juleka?” Luka asked a little too quickly, standing up. “I can take your plate.” 

Juleka gave him a look that said she knew what he was doing, but she got up too. “Yeah. Thanks. It was nice to meet you Marinette.” She went to the stairs, but couldn’t resist a parting “You two have fun,” before she thunked up them.

Luka sighed, and took Juleka’s plate and his own to the kitchen. He nearly bumped into Marinette when he turned around, standing behind him with her own mostly-empty plate. “Oh, sorry,” he said, taking it from her automatically. “I didn’t mean to rush you, if you weren’t done.” 

“No, I’m good,” Marinette said, with a nervous little flutter of her hands. “I was done. Can I help you clean up?”

“Nah, Jules can get it later,” he said, opening the cabinet to dump the last of the food in the trash before he put the plate in the sink. “I cooked, so dishes are her job. Let me just put the leftovers in the fridge. Why don’t you come on into the great room while I do that?” 

He led her out of the kitchen into the two-story great room, with its huge windows and exposed beams and the large crackling fireplace. 

“Wow, this is lovely,” Marinette breathed, looking around.

“I like it,” Luka shrugged with a self-conscious smile. “Great acoustics in here, actually. Just have a seat wherever you’re comfortable and I’ll be right back. Watch your step, we’re...not exactly neat freaks, if you know what I mean.” 

“It looks lived in,” Marinette agreed diplomatically. The furniture was all mismatched and...unique. Some of it looked so old and rickety that she wasn’t sure it was safe to sit on, and there were...boxes everywhere. Not really boxes, but old army footlockers, heavy-looking chests, and a dozen other things. They were mostly tucked in the corners of the room, leaving the floor clear for the enormous Christmas tree that took up an entire corner of the huge room. 

Marinette made her way to one of the couches as Luka went back to the kitchen. It looked like an antique, with an old brocade fabric that was slightly faded but otherwise in good condition, and sturdy enough. Marinette perched on the end of it, feeling a little awkward. She looked around the room. Despite the size, it was cozy, with a rustic air, much like all the other buildings she’d been in around town, and though she’d been being polite, her statement was accurate. It didn’t look so much cluttered as lived-in, as if this room was used a lot by the entire family. As she looked at the Christmas tree, she had to smile. The decorations were a bit...eccentric. Several of the ornaments on the tree were little bats wearing tiny knitted scarves or carrying miniature instruments that looked like they might have come from a doll collection. Music seemed to feature prominently in the tree, she realized. Many of the figures had instruments, not just the bats (there were spiders, too, she saw with amusement). Some of the ornaments were cheap, clearly mass manufactured things, but others were carefully crafted and looked like they’d come from far away places. Guitars weren’t the only instruments featured, but they did outnumber the others by quite a bit. Luka wasn’t the only musical one in the family, she concluded. His father was Jagged Stone, after all, and boy there was probably a story there, but she’d never dare ask. 

Her eyes widened slightly when Luka reappeared with an electric guitar in one hand. Marinette blushed, one hand fluttering up to fuss nervously with her hair. Surely he wasn’t going to play now? For her? 

Luka smirked a little at the expression on her face, and winked at her as he set the guitar down in a stand she hadn’t noticed. “In a minute,” he told her, and Marinette wanted to sink into the couch and disappear. Could she act more like a starstruck fan? Luka crossed to a funny looking cabinet that turned out to have a CD player inside. “You know Blue Lightning, right?

“Yes, of course,” Marinette said, blinking. It was one of the singles off his most recent album—his last album, she realized with a pang.  

Luka nodded as he put the CD he’d been holding in the player. “This was the demo I pitched to the label when I wrote it.” 

He pressed play, and turned the volume up. He walked over to one of the windows and stuck his hands in his pockets as the music began to play.

Marinette’s mouth dropped open. It sounded so...different. Of course a demo would sound different, she’d heard demo tracks before and they didn’t necessarily have full instrumentation or backup vocals, but...the whole feel of the song was different. Peppier, more fluid, less...angry. Still a rock song, but not so...gritty, or harsh, as the version she knew. 

Luka kept his eyes down as he switched off the CD player and closed the cabinet, and then went to sit next to Marinette on the couch. Only then did he look up at her.

“The execs said they loved it,” he told her softly, “but it didn’t fit my brand. They didn’t think it would sell. Later, they told me. When I was a bigger star, then I could put out something like that, but not yet.”

“That’s—” a shame, Marinette wanted to say, but instead she twined her fingers together and looked down. “Well, I guess they know what sells, right? It makes sense that you would take their advice.”

“That’s what I thought.” Luka nodded. “So I agreed to change it. And then in post production they ‘tweaked it’ some more, and…” He grimaced. “And then I had to go up on stage and perform it like that, and even though it made sense at the time, I just...hated it. When I complained, they told me I wasn’t bringing in enough sales yet to be such a diva and that if I wanted to make the music I wanted to make, then I needed to work harder.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it,” Marinette sighed. “But you have to make your bones, right? It’s the same with fashion. That’s just...part of the industry.” She glanced at him uncertainly.

“So they told me,” Luka gave her a wry smile. 

Marinette looked back at her hands. “Well, if it was making you unhappy, then it’s good that you left,” she said, but she said it without conviction, and she knew that he could hear it. 

Luka sighed. “Well. There was more to it than just that.” He got to his feet. “You’ve been to one of my shows, right? I think you said you had.” He picked up the guitar from the stand, and slung the strap across his shoulders. 

Marinette nodded. “Mmhmm.” She watched as he rummaged behind one of the chairs, pulled out an amp cord, and plugged it into the guitar.

“Good,” Luka said, sitting down across from her in one of the rickety-looking chairs. Marinette’s hands moved involuntarily before fluttering back into her lap. He lived here; surely he knew the hazards of the furniture. She curled her fingers under and tried not to fidget. He grinned without looking at her as he tuned the guitar.

“It’ll hold,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “I promise nothing around here is as fragile as it looks.” 

“Right,” Marinette said, hunching her shoulders slightly. “Of course.” She didn’t know where to look, and she suddenly felt very stupid. Why was she here again?. 

“Just relax,” Luka’s deep voice soothed, and she glanced up, color deepening. He sounded like Luke Stone in that moment, with the smooth, musical tone of his voice. “Just listen. If you don’t understand when I’m done, then...then that’ll be okay. But I’d like to try and show you what I mean. The difference between Luke Stone, and...me.” 

He took a breath, blew it out slowly...and played. Marinette’s breath caught. It was just White Christmas, which she’d heard a thousand times over in a hundred different styles. Even so, it was beautiful, embellished with unique touches that face it the same evocative quality that had first drawn her to Luke’s—to Luka’s music. 

Apparently he was just warming up, though, because he took another deep breath, and the music segued into a different tune—one she didn’t recognize. 

It resonated somewhere deep inside her, touched a well of pain she’d been trying to ignore for months. Not only the music, which by itself was beautiful and seemed to vibrate in her soul—but the artistry. And when she looked at him— 

Luka’s eyes were half closed, and his face was serene, with just a slight wrinkle of concentration between his brows. His hands, rough and abused as they were, moved easily and gracefully, with a confidence that Marinette suddenly realized was familiar. She’d had that once, back when she’d been young and inexperienced and thought too highly of herself. Before she’d learned better, and seen how far she still had to go. 

She found that she envied Luka in that moment. It must be nice, to be away from all that pressure and just...create for yourself again. Not to be constantly questioning your instincts, because you only had yourself to please anyway. 

Her chest suddenly felt tight, and her eyes stung. She swallowed hard and tore her eyes away from him, looking down at her hands. She closed her eyes and put her hand on her heart, determined to listen until the end. 

It was so beautiful. Poignant. 

She recognized now what he’d been trying to show her with the demo track. She had been too distracted at the time by the other differences, but...there had been so much more feeling in the demo version. Because Luka had loved it, she realized. He’d been excited about that song, and by the time the studio was done with it, that enthusiasm was lost. He played the studio version well, with all the technical skill he possessed, but it lacked the passion of the original. If anything, it sounded angry because Luka was angry when he played it.

That’s part of the process, though. It’s just part of the industry. Editing is important, even if it isn’t fun. Of course you’re tired of a project before it’s finished. You’ve still got to see it through. You don’t just quit or give up on a project because you feel pouty that people told you what was wrong.

It was the truth, so...why did watching Luka, and hearing him play, make it feel like such a lie?

The studio was wrong, she admitted to herself. Even if it was an objectively better song when they were done, even if the sales numbers said they were right...what they lost along the way was so much more precious than perfection. 

Luka’s song ended softly, but on a questioning note, without really concluding. He looked up at her, and then came over to sit next to her on the couch, his expression concerned. 

She wasn’t sure why until Luka reached out, and wiped away the tear trickling down her face with the rough pad of his thumb. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, I’m—” Marinette began, trying to smile, but she couldn’t finish. Her face crumpled and she buried in her hands before she began to cry in earnest. 

Luka put the guitar down, and came to sit beside her. His hands curled around her shoulders and tugged her to him. Marinette yielded, letting him pull her close. One arm wrapped around her back and one big hand gently cradled her head, guiding it down to his shoulder, and he held her, swaying gently, while she hid her face in his shirt and wept. 

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Luka said apologetically, and Marinette shook her head without lifting it. He held her for a long moment, until she finally managed to pull herself together and pull away from him, sitting up and wiping at her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she muttered, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, I was enjoying it so much, I can’t believe I just...lost it like that, ugh.” 

“It’s okay,” Luka soothed, putting his hand on her shoulder. He squeezed and rubbed it lightly. “Do you feel better?” 

“I...think I do, actually,” Marinette gave him a quick smile. “Thank you.” She was still embarrassed, but she meant it. It felt like a pressure valve had opened somewhere inside of her, and while nothing had really changed, it all felt just a little bit less oppressive. “I think I understand, at least a little. Why you left. But…” Marinette pressed her lips together, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to go on. Luka squeezed her shoulder again lightly, waiting for her to continue.

“I just...was quitting really the only way? Wasn’t it your dream? Wasn’t it worth fighting for?”

Luka swallowed and drew his hand back. He folded his hands together between his knees, looking at the floor, and hoped he could say what he wanted to without sounding like a pretentious drama queen or a weakling. 

“What happened between us just now,” Luka began slowly, “Luke Stone could never do that. I didn’t mind the work, or the hours, or even the touring. It’s just, the more we ‘refined’ Luke Stone’s image, the less it felt like me, and it put up this...wall between me and the rest of the world. It wasn’t just the label interfering with my music, it was the image they wanted me to project. The brand. It was harder and harder to be somebody different off-stage, because after a certain point, there’s really no such thing as off-stage. Jagged, you know, he can turn it on and off like that.” He snapped his fingers. “He tried to help me, he really did, but...I just...wasn’t connecting with people the way I needed to, for the music to really flow. I felt so alone, and unhappy, and I was still making music but it wasn’t mine, anymore. It was just something I did to keep the label happy. Finally I decided that clinging to the dream for the sake of the dream wasn’t very smart if it didn’t actually make me happy, and it was more important to be me than to be a star.” Luka glanced up. Marinette was staring at him, her eyes huge in her pale face. He felt himself beginning to blush and dropped his eyes again. “So I told Dad I was done,” he went on quickly. “He was disappointed, but he understood. I finished out my contract and came home to figure out what in the world comes next.” 

Marinette was silent for a moment. Luka swallowed nervously, and was trying to think of a graceful way to end the conversation when she finally said, “You’re really brave, Luka.”

He blinked, the words he’d been about to force out dying on his tongue. “What?” he said instead.

“I think it takes a lot of courage to admit that,” Marinette said quietly. “Even to yourself, let alone actually making the break and leaving it all behind. I’m glad you did it. I loved your music, but…” She reached out hesitantly, and slid her hand over Luka’s. He released his clasped hands to turn his fingers up to lace with hers. “I’m glad that you did what was right for you, instead of…”

“Flaming out and becoming an alcoholic drug addict?” he asked with a sardonic grin. Her hand was so small in his, he couldn’t help noticing. 

Marinette giggled. “Something like that. I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. You really didn’t have to rehash all of that for me.” 

Luka shrugged and repeated, “I wanted you to understand.” She had no idea how bad he wanted her to understand. He was grateful and relieved that she did...and at the same time, it was a little frightening. Things might have been simpler if she had scoffed and blown him off. Then he wouldn’t be sitting here, holding her hand and looking into her soft, beautiful eyes, feeling like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. 

Marinette bit her lip, and his gaze dropped to it. “I should...if it’s okay with you, I think I should go home now.” 

Luka shook himself back to reality. “Of course. Are you sure you’re alright? Will you be okay to get home?”

Marinette nodded and tried a smile. It mostly looked steady, so Luka smiled back. He stood up, still holding her hand, and drew her up after him. “Thanks for taking the time to listen to me, Marinette.” Luka let her hand slide out of his. “It actually feels good to be able to explain it to someone.” 

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” Marinette told him, and they didn’t say anything more as Luka got her coat and held it for her. 

Once she was gone, he barely made it back to a chair before his knees gave way. He rubbed a hand over his face and then leaned into it, sighing. That had been…intense. All of it, not just Marinette, but...playing like that, when he hadn’t played for anyone but his family in so long, and trying to help her understand...he hadn’t realized how much it would take out of him.

He was still sitting there when Rose burst in. “Marinette!” she cried, looking at Luka with wide eyes. “Where is she?” 

“She went home,” Luka mumbled, leaning back in the chair.

“What? No, I need her!” Rose exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Why did she leave? What happened?”

“Nothing happened—” Luka began, but a voice from the doorway interrupted him.

“He made her cry,” Juleka smirked. 

Rose whirled to look at her, while Luka glared at her over Rose’s head, but Juleka just grinned wider when Rose turned back and began to hit Luka in the arm over and over with her tiny yet surprisingly hard fist. “You idiot! You did not! You made her cry? What’s the matter with you?” 

Luka put up his hands in defense. “Rose,” he whined. “Look, I told you this wasn’t a date, and it’s not going to happen—”

“Who cares about your pathetic excuse for a love life?” Rose roared, hitting him faster. “You can’t run her off, I need her! The pageant’s going to be a disaster!”

“Wait, what?” Juleka frowned, coming into the room. 

“That’s what Sabrina was calling about!” Rose exclaimed. “The costumes that were in storage—they’re a disaster! Moths or rats or water or all three, I don’t even know. And here I made friends with someone who designs and sews and then like a bonehead I had to set her up with your stupid socially inept—”  

“He played for her,” Juleka broke in, and Rose stopped hitting him long enough to look at her. It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then Rose’s eyes widened. She turned back to Luka and he flinched. “You did not!”

“I did,” Luka admitted, running his fingers through his hair. “I really did,” he realized, feeling suddenly weak again. He covered his mouth with his hand and tried to pretend like he wasn’t suppressing the urge to scream. 

“Tell me everything right now!” Rose demanded, grabbing a fistful of his sweater and dragging him out of his chair and over to the couch. She sat down next to him with a determined expression. Luka looked up at Juleka pleadingly, but she just grinned. 

That’s for eating all the cookies, she mouthed, and left before Luka could make a rude gesture. 

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

#quickspins #monthofmiracles2020 #lukanette #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette #hallmark au #marinette dupain-cheng #luka couffaine #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug

[funkymbtifiction]

Nines, nines everywhere.

Submission by nokialltheway

This past week has been a Nines-coming-out-party on this blog. If you think about it, that in its self is very nine-like. Because just like you wrote in the updated version (read some of it earlier - damn brilliant) once you reach to them they come alive and react, and I feel because one nine ‘came out’ with something upsetting them instead of 'not wanting to bother anyone with stupid questions’, others felt it was okay too (it’s just a theory :>). 

It’s very interesting to me as a nine reading about how others don’t notice their anger or even recognize its existence in their lives. Maybe they’re younger, but I have to say I always notice it. The other day a woman at the supermarket stood right next to me, shoulder to shoulder while I was waiting in line to pay, completely ignoring the social distancing rule. I didn’t say anything but let me tell you .. I was ANGRY, and even now four days later I’m still angry at her behaviour and even angrier at myself for yet again not setting boundaries. Another recent example is my friend ignoring me mid-conversation (messaging) several times this week. I made a thousand excuses for him in my mind and that he’s probably not having the best time. But I AM ANGRY and I know it will come out two months from now if this continues or the second he brings up something I did to upset him. The last example is a guy at a coffee shop (who seemed very ENTJ) talking to me for two hours straight about his business and eventually asked for my email. I had work to do, I didn’t care about the topic at all, and I definitely didn’t want to give him my email but guess what? I made it very convenient for him while I walked away feeling so upset and ANGRY that I let someone assertive take charge of my time for however long and however way he wanted without me as much as looking at my phone when I heard notification so I wouldn’t interrupt him. 

So yeah .. I’m very conscious of it. I am working on it though. I’m reading books about setting boundaries for yourself and others because I truly think it will make me happier with in my relationships and overall. I feel if I learned the wording and how to say it in a non-hurtful way then there’ll be a bigger chance of me doing it. But you have to accept that there will be discomfort when you speak up and learn to be okay with it

I’m starting to make a detachment before I engage in conversations instead of the usual nodding and smiling and agreeing and talking about whatever the other person is talking about and for however long. I now take a step back and ask myself

Do you want to talk about this? Is this time you want to spend? Do you agree with their point of you? no? then stop nodding and smiling. Are you in mental state that allows you to listen to this person’s negativeness? no? politely say so, so you wouldn’t crash and burn and need a month of disappearing to detox. 

It isn’t different than drinking water throughout the day instead of waiting till you’re absolutely thirst to do it. Because then you’re dehydrated and if you’re dehydrated often it will cause bigger problems later on, you know? 

Do NOT let yourself get to that point. 

Another thing I want to say based on the last 9 post is that only recently I recognized how Idealistic I was in my relationships and it affected my ability to communicate. I will reference your post again about the email you sent a nine friend of yours and they didn’t respond. Sometimes 9s have such a high standard of how they should 'react’ that they wait till they’re 'whole’ again before they do it because then they could give you the most wholesome response. But you have to understand fellow nines that most people don’t think like that .. like at all. I know, shocking! I was shocked too. They just want to you to respond, with whatever you have. You don’t have to be positive or funny or your usual bubbly, fun self. Nah, they just. want. a. damn. reply. That’s what shows them you care and are still in it. So stop focusing on the quality, you’re ruining it for yourself when literally no one asked you for that high standard you put. Send a damn emoji or a photo or a short paragraph. One thing I know for sure .. 

At the very least, they’ll still be a hundred times more delighted by it as opposed to you disappearing and sending a late reply no matter how amazingly written it is. 

Those are the two cents of a 9w1 on a mission to be better. :) 

#submission #enneagram #enneagram 9 #9w1

[bluezey]

Inside Onward - The New Iandore

I just got a 2 in 1 laptop tablet combo for Christmas, which means Inside Onward is the last fanfiction I wrote on this hunk of junk laptop.  And I couldn’t be prouder of that.  Honestly, not only is this the longest fanfic I’ve written, I kinda stopped up and teared up at the last paragraph, not wanting to see this end.  Thank you all for reading.

The familiar chime of the smartphone alarm rang through headquarters.  Followed by another familiar wake up call of a chipper voice exclaiming, “It’s morning!  It’s morning! Wake up, sleepyheads!  It’s a new day!”

Fear woke up with a yawn, his arms and nerve stretching as far as they could reach.  He then gave a lazy smile to Joy, watching him bound across the room, waking up Anger and Sadness.  “Come on, you guys!” Joy cheered, still dressed in his pajamas, but raring to go.  “You don’t want Ian to be late for school!”

Fear climbed out of bed and began getting dressed.  “You heard him, guys.  Let’s go.”

Once dressed and with notebook in hand, Fear followed Joy, Sadness and Anger out the bedroom door and down the stairs onto the Headquarters floor.  Greeting them was Disgust busy at the console.  “There you guys are,” Disgust said, hands on his hips. “Thankfully, I didn’t need your help getting Ian ready today.”

“That’s good to hear,” Fear commented, scribbling that note down in his notebook.  “Disgust is present obviously, then there’s Anger, Sadness, and-“

“Me!” Joy chimed, before interrupting himself with a gasp.

Fear looked back at Joy, confused.  “What?”

“You’re finally wearing the sweatshirt again,” Joy awed with a big smile.

Fear looked down at his Willowdale College sweatshirt.  “Oh, well, I was just waiting for the right day to wear it.”

“What’s so special about today?” Disgust asked.  “We’re just doing an oral report in history.”

“Not that,” Fear commented as he made his way to his locker.  He opened it and pulled out a cardboard box.  “See, I didn’t feel right if I was the only one who got to wear Dad’s sweatshirt. So, I made a few orders with some mind workers over at Dream Productions wardrobe department and… ta da!” Fear finished, pulling another replica of Dad’s sweatshirt out of the box.

Joy jumped up and down with, well, joy.  “Our own sweatshirts!  I’ve never been so happy!  Oh, I’m gonna try mine on right now!” Joy exclaimed, snagging the sweatshirt from Fear’s hands.

Fear watched as each emotion took a sweatshirt and tried them on, each one fitting them perfectly. Anger rolled up the sleeves on his, Disgust adjusted by placing his comb and pocket mirror in his jeans pocket, and Sadness gladly snuggled up inside the hoodie of the sweatshirt.

“Glad you all like it,” Fear told everyone.  “Now come on, let’s get Ian fed and off to school!”

----

The emotions gathered around the console, proudly watching Ian standing in front of the entire class, telling his story about his first epic quest for his history class.  Months ago, Fear wouldn’t dare dream of the idea to his worst enemy.  And here he was, just as excited as Joy is to let Ian stand out and tell the tale.

“And I believe, with a little magic in your life, you can do almost anything,” Ian concluded.

“Is that how you fixed the school?” one classmate asked.

“Yes,” Ian replied as he picked up his wizard’s staff, which was leaned against the chalkboard beside him.

“Is that how you also destroyed the school?” another student asked.

Ian sheepishly held his staff and replied, “Uh, also, yes?”

Fear shuttered nervously. “I hate Q and As.”

“Okay, so we had a hiccup,” Joy shrugged.

Disgust grinned as a bunch of familiar classmates approached Ian.  “Here come Ian’s friends.”

“Great speech, Ian,” an elf student said.

“You coming to the park later?” a troll student asked.

“You know it,” Ian replied.

“Yay!  Play time at the park!” Joy cheered.

“Joy,” Disgust told Joy. “Teenagers don’t have play time. They hang out.”

“I hope we don’t get too much homework,” Sadness sighed.

----

“Mom, I’m home,” Ian announced as he walked through the door.  As the teenage elf placed his staff by the front door, he was almost caught off guard by a slender serpent bodied pet dragon leaping up and encircling his body to greet him.

“Hi Blazey, we’re home!” Joy almost sang as he took over at the controls.  “Who’s a good dragon?  Who’s a good dragon?”

After Ian gave Blazey a good scratch under her chin, the dragon ran off as Laurel entered the room. “So, how was school today?”

Ian folded his hands behind his back with a smile, as Joy and Disgust helped him respond, “It was pretty good.”

“Well, alright,” Laurel replied with a smile.

Just then, Colt entered the room, coffee cup in hand and a brand new wedding band on his finger. “Hey there, Ian,” he greeted. “You working hard?”

“Nope,” Ian replied. “Hardly working.”  The emotions’ laughter almost drowned out Colt’s braying laugh.

Fear turned and watched Family Island light up with Ian’s response to Colt.  After giving a careful double take, Fear left the emotions behind at the console and quickly made his way to the window.  He overlooked the islands with a smile, starting with Family Island, now with a new Colt Bronco statue next to the Laurel statue.  He panned over the Islands with a smile, observing every single one.  Science Island, with its influence on space.  School Island, proudly highlighting Ian’s math skills. Friendship Island, expanded to accommodate all of Ian’s new friends.  Smartphone Island, a little smaller, but still a piece of Ian. Wizard Island, with a glow shimmering from atop Ian’s staff like the light of a lighthouse.  Fear smiled wide as he scanned every single island.

Then stopped at Dad Island.

Thankfully, it has changed to show how much of an impact just one day with half a dad had on Ian’s life. Along with some pictures of Dad and a large replica of the Dad audio cassette, there was a large replica of striped purple socks draped on one side of the island, and a statue of Dad’s legs sitting on the edge of the other side.  Dad’s legs were beside Family Island, making it look like they were connected. But, Fear’s smile faded, knowing that wasn’t true.

“Well well,” Joy commented, standing behind Fear. “If I’m not mistaken, I think Dad Island is a little closer today.”

Fear jumped from being startled, before giving a nervous smile.  “Oh, hey Joy,” he exhaled a sigh, going back to looking melancholy over the island.  Fear promised that Ian would finally meet his Dad, and he would be a better person because of it.  But, only one part came true.

Joy watched Fear for a moment, then gave a supportive smile.  “Hey.  We’ll get Dad on Family Island one day.”

Fear gave half a smile. “Thanks, Joy.”

“I’m serious,” Joy replied. “We may not find another Phoenix Gem, but I’m sure there’s plenty more stories of Dad out there.”

Fear gave a full smile at Joy as the happy emotion gave the fearful emotion a big, warm side hug.

“Get off of him or you’re dead meat!” Anger shouted.

Fear and Joy turned to see onscreen Ian successfully grabbing Barley, flipping him out of his grapple and slam him onto the ground.  Joy and Fear could hear Family Island chime behind them.

“Woo!  Nice one, Anger!” Joy exclaimed, running up and giving the red emotion a fist bump.

“Phew!  Thank goodness I wasn’t here for that,” Fear commented as he approached the console.  “Barley sneaking up on us still scares the heck out of me.”

Ian took up his staff as he and Barley stepped out of the house.  “So, how’s the new van?”

“Oh, Guinevere the Second is great!” Barley commented.  “I’ve almost got enough saved up for a sweet paint job.”

“No, please, don’t,” Ian replied.

Barley looked surprised and confused.  “Why not?”

“Stand back, boys,” Disgust told the other emotions as he took the controls.  “I’ve been waiting all night for this.”

“Cause I already took care of it,” Ian replied, motioning his staff to the side of the van.

Barley turned and was immediately jumping and screaming with joy.  On the side of the mandarin orange van was a mural of a Pegasus from Barley’s first van, with the same background color as old Guinevere.  Upon the mighty steed was Barley in his adventure outfit, boldly his sword onward, with Ian dressed as a wizard at his side.

The emotions cheered as Joy exclaimed, “He loves it!”

Disgust brushed a blue curl from his face as he replied smugly, “Yeah, I know.”

The brothers climbed into the van and Barley backed out of the driveway.  “Now, the best way to the park is to take a trail that I like to call the Road of Ruin,” Barley told Ian.

Ian gave an unimpressed shrug.  “Nah, too obvious.”

Once again, Barley was thrown off his guard.  “Wait, what?”

Joy turned to Fear with a big, bold grin.  “You ready?”

Fear grinned back, a little less big, but still bold for a Fear.  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“On a quest,” Ian quoted, as he took up his staff, “the quickest path is not always the right one.”

And with that, Joy and Fear slammed their hands down on a button between them on the console.

Ian held his staff aloft until the tip reached the ceiling.  “Avi Volanta!” Ian declared, and Guinevere the second was enveloped in sparking white magic from the inside out.  And, as Barley took the wheel, the van lifted off into the air and flew over the rooftops of their neighborhood.  The brothers cheered in their success, and a rush of adrenaline from flying above New Mushroomton.

Inside Ian’s head, the emotions cheered on their Ian, with Fear occasionally reminding them all to focus on keeping the van in the air.  They don’t want the brothers to crash!

----

Later that afternoon, as it was becoming evening, Fear snuck off real quick one more time.  He made his way to the center of the Headquarters floor and tapped his foot on a button, making the core memory holder rise from its hiding place.  Fear took a quick glance over the core memories, one for each part of Ian’s personality.  After taking a brief pause on the blue and yellow memory powering Dad Island, Fear knelt down and inspected the core memory powering Family Island. While still in the holder, Fear brushed his finger against it, making it move to a memory of Laurel holding infant Ian while singing him to sleep.  He moved his finger against it again, and the vision changed to Ian standing at the altar with Barley at Laurel and Colt’s wedding. He brushed against it once more, and the memory changed to kid Barley helping Ian learn to walk, followed by a vision of grown Ian hugging Barley back atop the remnants of the cursed dragon.

Each and every vision was still shining a bright and cheerful yellow, and Fear couldn’t be any more glad to see that.

“Come on, Fear!” Joy called out from the console.  “Ian and Barley just made it home!”

“Oh!  Coming!”  Fear tapped his foot down on the button, and the core memory holder returned to its resting place, core memories and all.  Fear returned to his place at the console, with his friends and coworkers, as Ian and Barley stepped into the front door of the Lightfoot home.

#inside onward #pixar inside out #pixar onward #sir iandore of lightfoot #ian lightfoot #barley lightfoot #joy #sadness #anger #disgust #fear

[ja0-s-blank-canvas-fic]

Part 2 - Chapter 18 - Friendship

Blank Canvas Part 2

AO3 - here

Fanfiction.net - here

Happy Tuesday, dear readers! Time for more 1-A bonding time with Mei and Dark Shadow in the mix. ^____^ Let's get to it!

Warning for teasing. A minor one from ["Good idea..."] to ["See? Told ya..."] to the point I'm not sure it needs it but just in case. Second is the paragraph starting at {Red bloomed on his freckled cheeks...] but the next one is fine. Third from ["Uh oh, Izuku..."] to ["Well, you two..."] and after that is fine.

Linktree to all the things!

End notes for the chapter are under the line.

If you skipped the teasing. The first minor one was just Hitoshi teasing Ochako for being hungry and her stomach grows. The second is Mei being Mei and embarrassing her best boys that not even Hitoshi is immune to. Third, Hitoshi is teasing Mei for being 'friendly' towards Tenya. ;) While also joking that Izuku and him were being replaced but Mei was all 'hell nah, son'.

Class 1-A has officially been introduced to Mei! And she finally got to apologize to Tenya. Their even on a first name basis now along with the others in the regular lunch group! :D I had originally played around with all of 1-A being on a first name basis in this chapter but changed my mind because it felt forced. Plus, they've only just met while the seven regulars have spent more time together. Also, Tenya...good luck to him for offering to help Mei with her babies. XD

Mei is learning more about friendship and is missing her Hero-kun. But I didn't want her to be alone in 1-H. The ones who approached her were the among the ones who had Izuku's back after the award ceremony. They may not become the best of friends but they're going to be trying to include Mei more. Though that's mostly going to be in the background.

My personal MVP in this chapter is Dark Shadow because Dark Shadow is adorable and I love him so much. If anyone has any fun Dark Shadow ideas, lay them on me! Because I want Dark Shadow to have a presence in this fic because the spirit may be part of a quirk but it does have a personality of its own. Also it is canon that Dark Shadow gets pets like when Uraraka did after Midoriya learned they were in fourth place and was crying a geyser of tears. Dark Shadow was even blushing! :D Such an adorable sentient shadow.

Fun Facts About Japan:

I typically like to connect the fun fact with the chapter but I couldn't think of a particular one for this one. So we're just going to talk about school lunch in general. A typical school lunch consists of a carb, protein, vegetables, soup, milk, and sometimes an extra side. For the carbs, it's typically white rice but also was sometimes fried rice or some sort of pasta. The proteins typically was various fish but they would also have beef, pork, or chicken cooked in different ways. Sometimes super special like for the last lunch before winter break my area would serve a whole baked chicken drumstick as a special end-of-year/Christmas treat. They also would do egg omelets or tamago yaki ( 卵焼き , たまごやき ) which literally translates to fried egg and are actually slightly sweet in flavor.

Oh! Speaking of eggs, here's a random joke. How long ago did Japanese people start eating eggs? A long tamago! (You know 'ta-ma-go' like 'time ago'? :D What? I thought it was funny!)

For vegetables, they would typically be variations of salads. Most commonly with cucumbers, carrots, lettuce or cabbage, bean sprouts, etc. And often using sesame oil or goma abura ( 胡麻油 , ごまあぶら ) for dressing. They would sometimes add shirasu ( しらす ) which are the super tiny fish that are popular in Japan. They would also sometimes add, -cough- ruin with -cough-, natto but thankfully that did not happen a lot.

For soups, it was usually miso soup. Shocker, right? XD But there were others as well. The one I found most entertaining is their alphabet soup. Reason being is because they call it ABC soup. ^____^ And sometimes when I would eat with the kids on days with ABC soup, they would start taking out letters to make English words on their plates. XD As for sides, they were sometimes fruit, bread, or little tarts. Or pudding, ice cream, or jello. Not every day but every once and a while.

For a good sampling of school lunch trays, check out this blog post.

That's all for this update! :) Coming up is Ojiro's apology to Hitoshi, Izuku gets a start in the studio, and more internship talk. Until then, be well and let me know of typos or weirdness! Ta!

#mha #bnha #quirkless au #fanfic #blankcanvasfic #blankcanvasconvictions #midoriya izuku #shinsou hitoshi #hatsume mei #Class 1-A #aizawa shouta #dark shadow #tokoyami fukimage #iida tenya

[chartedrights]

Golden Age AU Masterpost

For everyone lacking context, the Golden Age AU is just me riffing on every piece of comic book media I’ve ever consumed. Here are some single-paragraph rundowns I’ve made to keep track of things as I start to write!

The Board of Directors is analogous to the Justice League- they’re pretty much entirely people with superpowers (with the exception of Carol, at first), they’re very prestigious, and they come together to ward off larger threats like the impressive super powered task force they are. Or they used to. Membership’s sort of dropped, and people with powers are getting harder to find and recruit, and the big headliner who ran it left it in the hands of some nurse, which is like. So not sexy.

PEIP is PEIP- they fit right in where they were. In the shadows, in the dark, fighting the threats that the “special people” won’t, protecting people on a lower level than “oh god, the apocalypse,” because apparently the superheroes aren’t concerned with espionage or alien meteors anymore. The pricks. Mostly run by people without superpowers- as far as they know- and deeply concerned with keeping heroes responsible for their own actions. They would be oversight, if they were allowed to be.

CCRP Technical is an interesting place. Charlotte and Ted work there, for Sam, though neither of them is quite sure what it actually does. Paul was recruited in hopes he’d grow into upper management, but he didn’t have the ambition for it. Bill has been there for a decade or two now, ever since he started attending those meetings with Becky and Mrs. Davidson. Melissa... Melissa is their rising star. Mr. Davidson isn’t sure what they found in her, but he’s glad to see her succeed! Good for her! Four for you Melissa, you go Melissa!

Hatchetfield.... is Hatchetfield. It’s small, it’s insular, it’s full of gossip and weirdness and people with eccentric ideas of morality. It might be easier to admit that superheroes and supervillains exist, but let nobody say that the citizens of Hatchetfield ever took the easy road. They will walk uphill, in the snow, denying the supernatural both ways.

Paul is a real sweetheart. He’s autistic, he’s quiet, he likes his routine and the simple pleasures in life... and he just happens to be unkillable and he maybe possibly sort of has the ability to fly. He could be an excellent addition to either team, but he refuses to be a proper superhero, making him Hatchetfield’s most obvious target. Which in turn means that he often ends up acting like a proper superhero against his own will. He thinks Emma is perfectly lovely and still hasn’t noticed her committing crimes.

Emma is Hidgens’ Lab Assistant, which is code for “committing crimes for college credit,” and she does a lot of the footwork for him. Being a henchman definitely tops food service, lets put it that way. She also gets to follow in the family business- a long line of Perkins supervillains ended when Jane broke free and became a real hero for Tom’s sake. She always wanted to be a good person, but Emma is not as opposed to violence. She also cannot wait for Hidgens to level Hatchetfield, which is made complicated by the fact that she likes Paul rather a lot, and he likes Hatchetfield.

Hidgens is a supervillain. He never leaves his house, orchestrates incidents of immense damage to the civic infrastructure, and refuses to acknowledge that just maybe putting children into the path of radioactive chemicals is not a valid scientific experiment. He’s not necessarily a bad person, it’s just that his morals refute even the idea of black and white. More like blue and red. Orange and green. He is of the opinion that world peace can only be achieved by world domination, and therefore has begun a track to world domination. He and Sam have a blood feud of indeterminate origin.

Becky Barnes, low-level healer and walking anesthetic, somehow ended up in charge of the Board of Directors. The last leader disappeared three days after handing off control, and Becky is still looking for them. Becky is very conspicuously not looking for her ex-husband, however. It makes some people suspicious, and nobody more than Sam, who is Stanley’s most obnoxious cousin. Apparently, ruining Becky’s life runs in the family. Despite these troubling events, Becky does her best to keep the city standing and the world turning- she and Bill manage what they can, Carol and PEIP manage what they can’t. She’s still in a precarious place, however, and she’s looking for help.

Frank Pricely supplies everyone with gadgets. Hero and villain alike, everyone pays. Not always the same price, but everyone pays. He’s a neutral party, and he acts the part, but everybody likes to debate his loyalties. There’s no such thing as truly neutral, right? Everyone has their price- even him. It’s just a matter of what that price is.

Lex is his cashier, which means that she learned early on in her career in retail that the panic button is not half as good a first resort as the paralysis darts Frank keeps in the cash drawer. She has the ability to manifest objects, as long as she knows where they are. She needs a concrete location to pull them away from, which means that she snoops in every house she visits, checks the staff rooms of every store she enters. She can, on command, find you just about anything you need. For a price. She’s learning a lot lately, though, and what she learns about her powers might put her at risk.

Bill is one of the few members of the Board of Directors still standing. He and Becky get coffee all the time, and commiserate about the lack of help in Hatchetfield. He has telepathy, and certain illusionary abilities, which come in especially handy when he’s talking people down or trying to sneak hostages out of hostage situations. A gentle, well-intentioned man, Bill is not outwardly very intimidating, but he’s strong. Much stronger than most people would like to think. Becky keeps trying to hand off leadership to him, and he gently hands it back every time- he’s got other problems to deal with right now.

Formerly married to the infamous Perkins family heiress, Tom tries to live a nice, quiet life. He used to be a hero- and a damn good one- but Jane defected for him, and then died for it, and he carries more guilt than he probably should. Tom never thought of himself as special, really, and he still doesn’t. He can warp matter- twist it into shape, turn it from one thing to another, and he’s a fine craftsman when he wants to be. But it’s a dangerous thing to have on hand when you’re angry or frightened, and Tom still has an awful case of PTSD hanging around his neck. He’s doing his best to wrangle with it, but he’s going to need some help.

Ethan is just a teenager. Really, he promises. He absolutely swears. Nothing special about him! He’s just real intuitive! He and Lex have been looking into that whole “experimentation” thing they did at CCRP back when they were babies and it wasn’t even interesting! He’s just a mechanic, honestly. He’s a straight C student! He hasn’t even joined the cult off the coast on that houseboat!! He’s a good kid. No reason to be concerned at all.

Ted is also Hidgens’ henchman, but definitely the lower-ranked of the two. He applied hoping he’d make some friends, but thus far all he’s managed to do is fall in love with Charlotte, who is Sam’s henchman. It’s not going badly for him, but it’s not going well, either. He and Paul still work together. Every time Hidgens asks, Ted is like “Paul? Nah. He’s totally normal.”

Gary is a mob lawyer. He used to work for Emma’s family, but now he works for Sherman and Linda. They’re technically competition, and if they ever find out that he’s playing both sides he’ll absolutely die, but in the meantime he is racking up that cash. He is so rich. He is capable of great evil, and occasionally does terrible things, but overall he’s an affable guy. He and Charlotte had an unfortunate tryst once that ended with her tying him to the Welcome to Hatchetfield sign with his own scarf, but he still pines for her. She’s the one that got away. And continues to get away. cops hate her: local woman refuses to go to jail.

MacNamara still works for PEIP, which is only slightly a different job, on account of there being very public superheroes in this world. He and Xander have been married for ten years, but they are both under the (mistaken) impression that it wasn’t a real marriage because it was done undercover. He thinks about that and is very sad about it sometimes. But they’re partners, and that’s good enough that he can be content with it. For now. He has the ability to intensify or nullify other people’s superpowers, and he does his best to keep it quiet. He thinks there’s something noble about living without superpowers, and vaguely wishes that he and Chad’s roles were swapped- until he remembers that Chad has one (1) brain cell to his name.

Xander has the ability to speak to computers. It’s not flashy, at first glance. It doesn’t have the pizzazz of Paul’s gifts or the subtle mind fuckery of John and Bill’s. But he can know whatever he wants, can hear anything, tap any phone call, look through any webcam. He doesn’t, because he’s not a fucking creep, but he can. PEIP was lucky to find him before CCRP- and so was everyone else in the world. Xander’s not flashy in general- he keeps a lot to himself. He and John have been partners for a long time, and they still haven’t said they love each other. He still hasn’t told John that he’s a member of the Board. He still hasn’t told John that he and Paul are in the same book club.

Schaffer doesn’t need powers. You think she needs powers? Her power is that she breathes and death turns away. PEIP was built by good people like Schaffer, people with principles and strong hearts and ice cold spines of steel. Normal, human people, unremarkable except that they chose to be better. She’s fourth-generation PEIP, born and raised to believe in the service they do, the protection they provide. Some of the more bitter agents will say that Schaffer benefitted from nepotism. They will never say this in front of her, because deep down they know she did not and they know that she will prove it by kicking their asses. She and Carol used to date, but the strain of crossing enemy lines in what was, essentially, a Cold War between PEIP and the Board got to them both. Schaffer is the person Hidgens called after he got struck by lightning.

Charlotte is Sam’s henchman and quietly in the running for longest con ever pulled. One day she is going to off him and take his place as the leading supervillain in Hatchetfield, but that day is not today. She likes Ted, but Sam keeps telling her to kill him, so their relationship amounts to “the inherent eroticism of trying to murder each other”. Nobody is entirely certain how she does what she does, but she’s very, very good at her job. Emma looks up to her just a little. She had a therapist once. He tried to sleep with her. She no longer has a therapist. She does have a very lovely goldfish, however.

Mr. Davidson is MacNamara’s twin brother and Hidgens’ ex. His wife is a genuine bona fide Batman-level hero in a bigger city, so he occasionally gets kidnapped or tortured. Hidgens still writes him bitter and mildly threatening love ballads that he genuinely treasures and sends very heartfelt thank you notes for. His life is so messy. There’s so much drama. He’s also completely powerless and cheerful about it. (Re: the Working Boys.... he’s Chad. Chad MacNamara Davidson.)

Alice is developing absolutely no superpowers and she’s really really annoyed about it. She used to take this out on Lex, as teenagers will, but after Lex dropped out she began to regret that. Too little and much too late, but regret is regret. She keeps trying to mend that bridge, but it’s not working. Unfortunately for her, she’s still been seen with Lex and Ethan, and that’s enough. Imminent danger perceives no difference between friend and foe. Alice is full of a very different kind of potential, however, and sooner or later all that bottled-up anger and stress will lash out.

Deb, on the other hand, is an intern at the Board of Directors’ headquarters, which is now St. Damien’s given that Becky is in charge. Interns for heroes are much less common than henchmen working for villains, but Deb has a keen interest in coordination and overseeing operations. Bill hates having her on comms for missions, but she’s just... so good at her job. She can brew a pot of Red Bull twice-steeped coffee, arrange a date with Alice, avoid an international incident, redirect PEIP and talk Bill through defusing a bomb in the same ten-minute stretch. Lesbians can do anything. This is a fact. They are the backbone of our society.

Hot Chocolate Boy is full of secrets. And hot chocolate.

And speaking of St. Damien’s, do you recall poor Bridgette, who lost her eyesight in a horrible accident? I’m not saying Hatchetfield is going to have it’s very own Matt Murdock expy, but I am saying that. She’s blind, she’s Catholic, and she’s coming for your kneecaps.

Linda is a very low-level villain who operates out of her husband’s office and sics her Boating Club on people. Gerald should technically be a threat, given that it’s the Monroe family prerogative to slaughter rising heroes with an alacrity that distinguished them from all the other families in Hatchetfield. He is not. He’s barely even a henchman. Linda got all the bloodlust between the two of them, and she is out for blood from the start. Though initially quickly defeated, she grows in seriousness over the course of time and ends up a formidable threat with a weighty grudge against Becky and Lex. She’s not much in a physical fight, Linda, but she is deeply, deeply vindictive, and she’s willing to make any deals she has to to bring Becky down. Any deals. With anyone. Anything.

Sherman Young is a mob boss, and you know it. He’s a real creep and he’s got some sick hobbies, even for a man in his line of work, but somehow the 80s jacket and the comb-over mullet make it all worse. He’s the richest man in town, and that’s saying something, but if Linda has a say in things he won’t be for long. The Youngs, the Monroes, and the Perkins have been at war since the founding of the town, and Sherman is cutting down his competition. He might have even arranged for Jane’s accident to happen, but nobody is sure. Nobody living, anyway.

Sam is a villain. He’s not super or anything. He’s just a villain. He’s top-tier Joker-level normie, but he still goes toe-to-toe with all kinds of heroes. Notable for being pretty much exactly the same as his show counterpart in regards to his proclivity for threats and violence. He once told Paul to “talk to his fucking gun” only to find that Paul is, despite all outward appearances, fucking immortal. He is still very embarrassed about it. He’s up and coming in the Hatchetfield Villain circuit, but he’s definitely a threat. To who? Who can say. Somebody, somewhere.

Papa Ed is a PEIP informant, and he has the ability to speak to animals. He’s raising Peanuts to be a very small, very enthusiastic little squirrel spy.

Man in a Hurry is a former speedster who lost his powers and compensates for it by Being In A Hurry at all times.

Homeless Man is a CCRP agent. He specializes in camouflage and compassion. He doesn’t remember what came before, but he knows something did, and finding out what it was is all he has left to hope for.

Howard Goodman does not have superpowers, but he’s got gumption. Okay, I lied. He doesn’t have gumption. But he’s a very nice man.

#black friday #starkid #tgwdlm #Golden Age AU #masterpost #long post #[finger guns] love these idiots #this is SO LONG #and i tried not to spoil everything #there’s some stuff i’m keeping in store bc :)) i can

[soobsung]

trainer- lj

series: undergrad

summary: lee jeno’s work study is being a trainer at the college’s gym. his list of clients grow the more his arms do but he can’t help but be distracted by the girl at the front desk, swiping people in and struggling with her chemistry homework. 

pairing: lee jeno x female reader

word count: 1.5k 

you set your bag down behind the desk as you clocked in on your phone. you pulled out your laptop and textbook, laying them out in front of you

“hey y/n.” jaemin said, passing you his ID card. you smiled, swiping him into the gym. 

“hi jaemin, how have you been?” he leaned on the counter. 

“I've been okay. jeno has been killing me with these workouts.” you laughed. “chemistry?” he looked down at your homework and you nodded, running a hand through your hair.

“yeah, chemistry is currently kicking my ass.” 

“jaemin you’re late.” you turned your head to see jeno with his arms crossed. 

“barely.” jaemin rolled his eyes at his friend before turning to you. “bye y/n, you got this!” he smiled at you, giving you a thumbs up before grabbing his ID from the counter and walking into the weight lifting room. 

“hi y/n.” jeno smiled shyly at you. 

“hey jeno.” you said, a smile on your face. 

“when does your sh-” 

“YOU CAN’T YELL AT ME ABOUT BEING LATE AND THEN SPEND TIME FLIRTING!” jaemin’s voice yelled from inside. you laughed at jeno’s red cheeks as a hand flew up to his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. 

“you should probably get in there.” you said. 

he nodded his head,” yeah. see you later?” you nodded and turned back to your work as he walked in. 

two hours later 

you groaned as you read the same paragraph over again, trying to make sense of the material. you closed your eyes rubbing them before letting your head rest in your hands. 

“here.” you opened your eyes to see a brown bag on your textbook. you looked up to jeno’s face. “eat.” he said, “and take a break. you’ve been studying since you came in.” you rolled your eyes but grabbed the food, closing the book. 

“thank you.” you said, taking a bite of the sandwich. “do you have another session?” he nodded his head. 

“yeah with amy.” you nodded your head. “she should be coming in like ten. when does your shift end?” 

“in another hour. I can’t wait to go back to my dorm and take a nap.” you said honestly causing jeno to laugh. 

“do you work to-” 

“jeno!! honey!” a voice said as they walked into the gym, you both turned to see amy. you missed the distaste on jeno’s face as he got interrupted again when talking to you. amy quickly rushed over to you guys, handing you her ID as she pulled jeno into a conversation. jeno looked over at you to see you going back to your homework. he sighed. 

“let’s go get started.” he said, as amy excitedly walked into the main room. he looked back at you one last time but you didn’t look up. 

jeno showed amy a couple workouts to tone her stomach as she had asked him to. 

“like this jeno?” she asked, a tone to her voice he didn’t like. 

“yeah, try not to arch your back too much you’ll get a cramp.” he said, looking out the large window to the front of your desk. 

“ow.” amy said and jeno turned to her quickly. “just kidding! I just wanted your attention.” he sighed and went to grab a couple of weights. 

“do you want to do some weighted squats?” he asked simply and she bit her lip. 

“anything for you.” he scrunched his face up and handed her the weights. “are you free this Friday?” she asked casually as she started to do her workout. 

jeno wasn’t paying attention as he again looked to the front desk. he smiled at your confused face as you jotted down some notes. 

“jeno,” amy said. he looked over at her. “are you free this Friday?” she asked again and he shook his head.

“no sorry.” his phone rang signaling the end of their session. jeno looked out to see you starting to pack up your books and grabbing your jacket as the next person came in for their shift. you said goodbye to them before walking out of the gym, going towards your dorm. 

“see you next week!” jeno yelled quickly grabbing his stuff. 

“wait y/n!” you turned to see jeno jogging up to you. 

“what’s up?” you asked as he fell into step with you, his arms going up to grab his bookbag straps. you didn’t miss how defined they had become. 

“I wanted to walk you.” he said simply with a shrug. you rolled your eyes playfully as you walked up to the second year housing dorms. 

“how was your training session with amy?” you asked, trying to ignore the distaste in your mouth at her name. he sighed. 

“decent I guess. she keeps asking me out.” 

you nodded your head,” why don’t you say yes?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“not interested in her.” he said simply. “i’m actually interest-” 

“jeno! y/n!” you both turned to see renjun, smiling as he waved at you both. 

“hey junnie! I haven’t seen you in a while.” you said giving him a quick hug. him and jeno did their handshake before he walked into step with you guys. 

“yeah I've been pretty busy.” he said shrugging his shoulders. 

“with his new girlfriend.” jeno smiled, forgetting about his annoyance at getting interrupted again. 

“you have a girlfriend?” you asked excitedly, he blushed nodding his head. 

“she’s a first year. she lives in chenle’s dorm and she’s so smart and talented and cute. I helped her move in the first day and wow. I can’t believe she’s actually mine,” he said dreamily, a smile on his face. 

“ugh I need a boyfriend.” you mumbled, a pout on your face. you missed the side eye that renjun gave jeno .

“we’re actually gonna go eat dinner together if you guys want to join us?” renjun offered up. you looked over at jeno who looked at you. 

“yeah, let me just go back to my dorm and drop my stuff off.” you said. jeno nodded his head. 

“we’ll meet you at bone.” jeno said and renjun nodded, waving at you guys before walking up the stairs to his girlfriend’s dorm. 

“don’t you want to go drop your stuff off?” you asked as you got closer to your dorm and farther away from jeno’s. 

“nah i’ll just keep it with me.” you walked up the stairs to your dorm, using your card to open it and allowing jeno in. you got to your room on the second floor and opened it with your key, dropping your bag on your desk chair. 

“if you want to leave it here you can, you can just come by after to grab it?” you asked and jeno nodded, putting his bag to the side. his phone buzzed and he pulled it out. 

he laughed,” renjun said they're gonna be a minute.” you shook your head, knowing what that meant and sitting down on your bed. 

“do you want to sit?” you moved your blanket making room for him on your bed. he climbed up easily and sat with his back leaning on the wall. 

“how’s chem going?” he asked and you groaned. 

“I don't want to talk about it.” you mumbled and he nodded, looking over at you. “stop looking at me weirdo.” you said, turning to him. 

“but you’re so beautiful.” he said and you rolled your eyes. 

“shut up.” you said, grabbing your phone. 

he took your phone out of your hands. “i’m being serious y/n.” he moved closer to you, looking into your eyes. 

“are you going to kiss me or what?” you asked and jeno blushed slightly, finally connecting your lips. your hands flew to his hair as his grabbed your waist, picking you up and making you straddle his lap. he pulled away slightly, still close that your lips were touching. you opened your eyes, confusion in them. 

“what?” you asked softly, feeling like talking in a normal voice would ruin the mood. 

“I- do you want to go on a date?” he asked, every movement of his lips being felt on yours because of the close proximity. 

“yes.” you said, moving back to look at his face. jeno pulled you in quickly, kissing you again. his phone rang and he groaned as he moved away from you. you leaned forward, resting your head on his chest as he answered the call. 

“what’s up?” 

“we’re at the dining hall. are you guys coming?” you heard renjun’s voice through the phone. 

“no, we’re going to go eat somewhere else.” jeno said and you grabbed the phone. 

“he finally asked me out!” you said to renjun and jeno rolled his eyes at you, grabbing his phone back. 

“finally!” renjun said. 

“bye renjun.” jeno said before hanging up. he looked at you and you smiled. 

“hi.” you said and he laughed. 

“hi. where do you want to go?” he asked and you shrugged. 

“what if we just stay in and order food? I really want to nap.” you said and he nodded his head, opening up a delivery app. you laid back on his chest and his arm wrapped around you, kissing your forehead. 

#lee jeno #jeno #jeno nct #nct dream #nct #lee jeno x reader #lee jeno imagines #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #undergrad #jeno fluff #renjun #haechan #jaemin #chenle #park jisung

[gingerwritess]

OKEY BUT whats up with eliott and morgannnn

oooh i love these two so goddamn much

good lord

one pure blue prince and one snarky potts-stark we must prOTECC

for anyone just tuning in, Elliot is you and Loki’s son, a pure lil bean, and this is Morgan Stark who he’s grown up with and stuff is happening and yeah check my masterlist for more background :)

also i recently realised that people who use screen reading have to sit through paragraph breaks of asterisks and that must be SO ANNOYING so i will no longer use that, i’ll just use a few hyphens to hopefully get the break over with quick and easy!

――――

“What’re you gonna do, Stark? Gonna call daddy to come save you?”

Holding her snow gloves just out of her reach, Mike Burts leers down at Morgan.

Why is it that the bullies are always so big??

“Maybe I will,” Morgan spits back at him, giving one last jump to try and grab her gloves. “He’d kick your ass and make you thank him for it, dickhead, give me my gloves back!”

“Don’t think so,” he sneers, tossing the gloves to one of his stubby little cohorts behind him. “Aw, well, if daddy won’t come help, you can always call your little blue freak!”

Morgan casts a quick glance around—good. Elliot’s nowhere to be seen, at least for now.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” she warns, a hand slyly slipping into her pocket.

“Like what? Like he’s a freaky, frozen mutant?”

“Seriously, Burts. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” he says sarcastically. “Don’t want to piss off the little popsicle’s girlfriend, do we.”

A thin layer of metal encases her hand. “Last chance.”

“I’m not scared of your little monster pet,” Burts hisses in her face. “What’s he gonna do, call Jack Frost on me? Oh no, I better keep a heater close by—”

In one quick, barely noticeable movement, Morgan aims her hand towards the ground at his feet, firing a blast of something roaring up to his face.

Harmless, she and her parents are aware, but Burts and his goons don’t need to know that.

He squeaks in fright. “What the—”

“Get the hell out of here,” Morgan orders. Her hand, wrapped in red and gold metal, is smoking. “Leave me alone, and if I hear you say one more thing about Elliot, I swear to god I’ll break your toes one by one and feed them to you—”

“Morgan!”

“Run,” she hisses, a smug grin on her face as he pales. “Run away and don’t look back.”

“What’s going on?” Elliot runs to her side, slightly out of breath. “Is—is he bothering you?”

Morgan gives him a quick smile—that’s sweet of him—but she doesn’t miss the slight tremor in his voice.

“Nah, I got them taken care of.” She jabs a thumb over her shoulder at the guys huddled a safe distance from her now. “They’re all bark, no bite.”

“That’s good,” Elliot says, thanking the norns above and whoever else is listening that he didn’t have to get pummelled by anyone today. “Are you, erm, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Nothing hurt but my pride.” She flashes him another smile.

“You’re lookin’ pretty smug, though.”

“Okay…so maybe my pride isn’t very hurt…”

Elliot laughs, not in the slightest bit surprised. “Mmhm, that’s what I thought. That’s good, though, I’m sure they deserved it.”

Blowing an unruly curl of dark hair off his forehead, he leans over and takes her books out of her arms to carry them for her, a soft smile turning at his lips.

Morgan nods, warmth spreading through her chest like a wildfire.

Your little blue freak.

“They deserve worse, but yeah.”

“No gloves?” Elliot asks as they walk towards the doorway, backpacks slung over shoulders and jackets zipped tight.

“No,” she sighs, wrapping her chunky scarf snug around her neck. “Burts took them. Don’t bother,” she adds when Elliot’s eyes narrow, “let them have them. They’re…big, Elliot. Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t want them to get away with that,” he replies, glancing at the group of laughing boys behind her. “At least tell your parents. They can do something about them, right?”

“Sure.” She smiles, tugging her beanie over her ears. “What about you? No scarf, no hat? Your ears are gonna freeze off.”

“Today’s a warm day,” Elliot answers with a small smile.

Morgan glances out the window—the snow has to be past their knees by now, icicles hanging from every rooftop, plus a wind chill to freeze the skin right off your limbs?

A warm day. Right.

“Whatever you say, frosty. Dad said he’s already heating up the milk for our hot chocolate, let’s hit the road.”

Elliot likes the snow. This ice, this coldness. He feels at home, unthreatened—and he gets to walk Morgan home.

Purely for safety purposes, Tony had made perfectly clear, only to ensure that his baby doesn’t get caught up in a snow storm or slip and break herself on some ice.

“I’m fine,” she’d laughed at the proposition, but only once.

There wasn’t much opposition to the little arrangement from either party.

“Shit.”

Easily floating over the icy sidewalks, Elliot gives a quiet laugh—as always, when she cusses. “Language.”

“It’s cold,” she groans, shoving her bare hands deeper in her pockets. “Those shit—stupid-heads who took my gloves are gonna pay for this.”

“Please let me watch.”

“No, don’t encourage me!” She laughs and shoves him in the shoulder with hers—not that it’d knock him off balance. Elliot manages to make walking on ice and through snow look like a literal walk in the park. “C’mon, you’re supposed to talk me out of fights. Be a good escort.”

“Fine,” he chides, plucking off his right glove and handing it to her with an exaggerated, swooping bow. “Don’t fight anyone, take my glove instead. I have two, we can share.”

“You have two for your two hands, idiot,” she laughs, cheeks pink against the wind. “But thank you. I accept your most gracious offer, your majesty.”

“Good. Put it on, you’re gonna get frostbite and I don’t know how to treat that yet.”

She does, blowing a lock of hair out of her face and she wiggles it onto her half-frozen fingers, giving her hand a couple squeezes to warm up her knuckles.

“Much better. Thanks, Elliot.” She glances up at him, a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

Elliot can feel a smile on his own lips as he nods—and quickly looks away, cause her nose is pink and her eyes glowing under the thick wool beanie, and she’s warm.

“What about this hand?”

Ice crunching under their boots, she holds up her other hand, the one left ungloved, and wiggles her fingers in front of him.

“This hand’s gonna get frostbite,” she hums, dropping it back between the two of them. “And then my dad’s gonna kick you out of the city.”

Elliot laughs—even though he doesn’t doubt that she’s not joking. “Here.” He takes off his other glove. “You can have both of mine, I really don’t need them—”

“No, absolutely not!” She pushes the glove back into his hands. “Put that back on, you need at least one. I don’t want your dad hating me either.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure? I really don’t mind.”

“I’m positive. Put your glove back on.”

He does, sceptically, but he does. The threat of frostbite isn’t exactly a joke…

They walk another block in a comfortable silence, listening to the snow crunch and the wind whistle, each with their one bare hand hiding deep in their pockets.

Morgan shivers again.

Elliot glances down—she’s taken her hand out of her pocket, clenching her fingers into a fist and shaking it, trying to keep the blood moving.

Her hand is just there against her thigh, cold, trembling, empty.

His fingers twitch slightly—then he catches himself.

That…would be weird. That would be wrong. Not to mention how Tony would wring his neck for even thinking of doing—doing that, ruining every chance of ever seeing each other again for good.

The streetlight ahead of them seems to be broken again, red lights flashing every few seconds.

That’s definitely a sign, Elliot decides.

They step off the curb to cross the street.

A car honks and Morgan, one foot shooting out from under her, grabs hold of his bicep, hard.

“Ice!” She shrieks, holding onto him for dear life as her feet scramble for traction. “Sorry, sorry!”

Nearly dropping her books, his hand lands on her waist, firmly settling her back on balance.

“I’ve got you,” Elliot laughs, trying to grab her and keep her upright. “I’ve got you.”

What a spectacle they must have been, the two of them slipping and scrambling in the middle of the icy crosswalk, half-laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, half-frantically trying to get out of the road—

“All good?”

She giggles, breath leaving her lips in a little puff of frozen air. “Yep. Sorry, I’m not a snow princess like someone I know.”

He just laughs again—that seems to be all he’s capable of, in her presence. Laughing awkwardly, nervously, giggling like an idiot when he shouldn’t be.

And…his hand is still on her waist.

Move. Move them.

“We’ve gotta move,” she laughs, snapping her fingers in his face. “You can let go of me now, I can stand by myself…”

“Right.” He clears his throat with another awkward little chuckle, hands snapping away from Morgan’s waist. “S-sorry.”

Ungloved hands back in their pockets, the walk resumes—this time, a surge of warmth keeping Elliot’s skin from freezing blue. A warmth he finds specifically trained in his arm, the little spot where she’d grabbed onto him to keep from falling.

Morgan just walks beside him, the tiniest smile turning at her lips, her nose rosy against the chilled wind.

He should say something, right?

“So, um…”

She looks over at him and he stutters.

“S-snow?”

Snow??

That’s the best he could come up with?

A laugh falls from her lips and Elliot silently curses his father for apparently not passing along the whole ‘silvertongue’ trait.

“Lots of it,” she agrees, glancing around the snow-covered city. “Does it snow in Asgard?”

He clears his throat and nods. “When w-we want it to.”

“That’s so cool.” A dreamy glaze passes over her features - Elliot finds himself staring. “You’ve gotta take me there someday. Y’know, when you’re the king-in-training or whatever.”

“No way,” he laughs, grateful for a familiar topic. “I’m not even ready to start thinking about that.”

“Sure. Whatever you say,” she grins. There’s a skip in her step, now.

“I can bring you along sometime soon,” he calls after her when she skips a few steps in front of him. “Once we’re all settled, you can come stay at the palace with us.”

Morgan comes to a stop and waits for him to catch up, a beaming smile on her lips. “I can’t wait.”

Side by side once more, she nudges him with her shoulder.

And nervous awkwardness swallows the two of them whole again.

That damn hand of hers is out of her pocket.

They’re close, really close to each other, to the point where he can feel her warmth radiating - and they’re almost home. If anything’s going to happen, it’s now or never.

She clenches her hand into a cold, trembling fist by her thigh, letting go after a moment.

Warm? No, she’s burning. 

His knuckles brush against hers, just once, cautious and quick, and she hurriedly snaps her head to look away from him - her cheeks beet-red, she tries to bite back her giddy grin.

Don’t say anything, she screams to herself. He’ll do it, he’ll do it—

Elliot pretends to slip a tiny bit. There. Now it could’ve been an accident.

Won’t she say something?

She’s still beaming, the tiny skin-to-skin touch apparently going unnoticed, and Elliot can’t help but give it another try.

This time, with a bit more intent.

She makes sure her hand is open, swinging invitingly between the two of them as they walk, and she almost jumps with a start when his fingertips brush her palm.

Elliot searches her face out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the disgust, looking for any signs that he went too far, that this makes things weird.

And he finds nothing.

Pinky fingers wind around each other, and Elliot holds his breath.

Her grin is clearly visible, peeking out from behind her scarf, her cheeks flushed and pink from what might be the cold but maybe, just maybe, the fact that her little finger is wrapped around his, interlocked and silently assuring him that he’s not crazy, that he didn’t just dream this all up.

They cross another street, only a few more blocks from home, and this time Morgan moves.

She lets go of his pinky finger and lets her hand fall into his, fingertips brushing his palm as he curls his fingers between hers, slowly intertwining until Elliot can’t breathe - palms press together and she give his hand a tight squeeze.

“Can’t let me get frostbite, right?”

Elliot swallows thickly. “Right,” he whispers. “Is—is this okay?”

Morgan turns to him with a nervous giggle, eyes twinkling and cheeks burning. “As long as my parents don’t see, this is perfect.”

The very air around them seems to change, heavy and excited with the possibility of such a dense secret.

“Perfect,” he repeats in a whisper. “I-I won’t tell.”

Clutching at each other’s hands, holding onto each other tight enough to keep all the warmth between them, Elliot can’t stop from grinning.

“Hey, Morgan?”

She’s glowing. “Yeah?”

“You’re, um, really warm.”

Another laugh from her warms his heart. “Is that a good thing, frosty?”

Elliot gives another giddy giggle, glad that those guys had taken her gloves, glad that he gets to walk home with her, glad that she hadn’t pulled away when their hands first met.

“Perfect.”

――――

feel free to send me ideas!!

if you enjoyed…what if i linked my venmo…haha no i jest…no obligations….just in case….u don’t have to ha ha…….unless… ??

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney @anxiousamandapanda @padmeisgay @authordreaming13 @lokisironthrone @theunknowinglys @highfuncti0ningfangirl @epicfallenismine @stubby-toe-589331 @fandomnerdsarecool @retrofantasyland @arch-venus25 @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @littleredstarfish @marshyrebelcloud @okie–loki @atterodominatus @stfxlou @pandacookieowo @tonakings @shinisenko @tinchentitri @nildespirandum @thefallenbibliophilequote @vodka-and-some-sass @highfunctioningfangirl19 @sadwaywardkid @lokioneshot @brooksaza @wild-honey-piy

#loki x reader #dad!loki #loki imagine #loki reader insert #morgan stark #morgan x elliot #elliot lokason #loki fluff

[bookofmormonmemes]

wassup yall it’s been forevys but im officially halfway through this abish book here’s some pros and cons

cons:

battle with exclamation points continues, now a new contender has entered the fight: ellipses. these are luxury resources and kc grant is ruining the economy

the most sudden unearned underwhelming unsatisfactory kiss scene ive ever read. we love our androgynous blacksmith babe but they kissed just in the middle of a paragraph completely out of nowhere with no dramatic tension or buildup at all and im upset

her dad’s Conversion Vision also feels pretty out-of-nowhere and also way too neat & tidy? he just comes in like “I had a dream that there’s only one God and everything we’ve ever been taught is wrong, come on let’s go change our entire lives” and abi’s like “ok lit.” we stan a ride-or-die daughter but cmon, gimme some CONFLICT, some INTERNAL CRISIS OF FAITH. I WANT A GODLY WRESTLE!!

it’s racist. the racism is dressed up pretty but it’s there and it sucks. the nephites are white which is automatically a loss but madam grant consistently portrays that whiteness as not only more civilized and righteous but also more attractive??? abi’s living with this nephite family and this one boy walks by with blonde hair and green eyes and she’s like “these nephites were like the colors of the rainbow...such variety...” and it’s. it’s gross.

androgynous blacksmith babe is Lost At Sea. i know from reading the summary of the sequel book that he survives and they get married but for now I Miss Him.......

what is the plot. where is the plot. when is the plot. there’s so many random things happening and she’s ending up so many different places, i have no idea how or when she’s possibly gonna end up where she’s sposed to be. tally marks of “days without my queen” stretch across the wall. ammon has yet to be introduced. where are my children. what is happening. how can i go on

pros:

HER

HER

S H E E E E

she is how i can go on

at one point she goes to help gardening and when asked what she’s doing she replies “i am sitting in the dirt”

the moment she’s free from Societal Expectations she goes right to climbing trees and killing random peccarys in the wild

apparently lots of research was done on the flora and fauna and geology of this place! enough to have detailed beautiful descriptions of different flowers and rocks but not enough to know quetzals are green

OH YEAH SHE GETS A COOL SCAR ACROSS HER FACE, SHE ALMOST GETS ASSAULTED BUT THEN ABB (ANDROGYNOUS BLACKSMITH BABE) CONKS THE CHUMP OVER THE HEAD WITH A ROCK AND ABISH JUST ENDS UP WITH THIS WICKED EPIC KNIFE SCAR

afterwards they’re fleeing town and so decide to cut her hair and start new lives and!!!! aaaaahhh!!! 

abish: with this puckered scar from brow to cheekbone and this hastily knife-shortened hair, i must look horrid, at least jared sees past that and loves me anyway

me, a lesbian, imagining her, remembering that she was described as also taller than everyone, thinking about her, THINKING ABOUT HER: 

the nephite fam shes livin with is basically just parents & three toddlers and theyyyyyy’re cute

baby brother picks up an iguana and wants to keep it, dad is like No but abish is like Maybe...the lizard saga continues

there was a fun sweet sailor man whom i love, who tries to make small talk in the middle of a storm. just yelling “HEY YALL GOT FAMILY BACK HOME?” over the wind while bailing water off the deck. iconic

at another point some nephites harass her for being Different and she completely destroys them. goes in wrestling and “actually abish did most of the fighting; the boy just lay there in disbelief. it was only after two of the other boys joined in that abish felt her abilities being tested.” HER POWER!!!!

after this she feels all guilty and wants to go apologize but literally everyone else is on her side. like nah those creeps deserved it. good on ya for whoopin them

and when i say everybody? i mean EVERYBODY. A Proclamation Comes From King Mosiah. THE KING. saying “hey heard yall were being racist. cut it out. losers.”

the proclamation itself reads exactly like a modern bishop newsletter but in context it’s like, THE KING??? THE KING. imagine if you got in a fight with your school rival and then a nationwide statement comes out cosigned by russell m nelson and barack obama telling literally everyone that you were in the wrong here

she’s iconic

and finally. every page i turn is a page closer to ammon and the queen. hopefully. we’re halfway there folks. give me strength.

#led #abish book liveblog #i know im being mean but i really am enjoying this and im still so jazzed and jived to have been gifted it #i read it and my years of writing are like :( but i think about it in the abstract and all my whole insides are like :D!!!!!!!!!!!! #this is such a long post rip #anyWAYS!! I LOVE HER!!!!!!!!!!! AND IM SO GLAD TO HAVE EXCUSE TO THINK ABOUT HER ALL THE TIME #IM AHPPY #HAPPY #YEE #im #literally so excited for ammon to show up yall i keep thinking about When Itll Happen and vibrating #im very excitable lately it seems #LOTS OF EXCITING THINGS ARE HAPPENING FOR ME....... #i sit in my chair and i Hand Flap and i Wiggle #its a fun time #anyways. ily

[thefangirlofhp]

Why will you do chop chop with chapter 8? 😭 There is never too many of Winnie?! (Or other charachters.) If you ask me, choping things out just because chpater is too long is crime! You spend your time writing it and at least I wouldnt mind 5 or more aditionally minutes spend on this fic. Espeically, if I get more moments with protective Winnie.

Thank you :) it's nice of you to say that.

When I type out a chapter, I look at the composition of it, the amount of segments, the content itself. I'll read it myself as a reader with a thin comb.

The chapter itself needs to make sense, so putting it in a range of between 4k words and 8k is my guideline because if I have free reign to post a 10k chapter, I'll be rambling about unnecessary things that don't really contribute much to the narrative of the story.

I don't cut out Az and Winnie content, that's legit why I'm writing this in the first place- this man who's been made into an adult, whose life started as a teenager being treated with hormones and medications to get him on normal growth track of his age, who missed out completely on childhood, who has experienced death and tragedy recently in the loss of his friend, is connecting with the literal personification of what he has missed.

Not just happiness and joy, but a whole chapter of his life ripped out from his story is this lonely little girl who's as eager to connect with him as he is. And the lengths he'd go to for her to keep it that way; to avoid letting her have a taste of what his life has been like.

That's why I'm writing it because the most interesting thing about Azriel in the books is his beginning. Out of all the characters, he's the one who's made me think through the things he's been in, how his chosen occupation correlates with who he is to the core. Not tragedy, but the character ingredients itself. Rhys and Cass are your typical Man-With-A-Past-But-Uses-Humor, and they function as expected (that doesn't make them lesser, but I've seen too many of them throughout my life so their story has been told to me thousands of times. I'm not intrigued) but Az- Az looks like the normal quiet type of the group, but he isn't, is he? He seems the stereotypical glue of the group who holds everyone together and keeps them sane/alive. But he's really not that. That's the thinnest onion layer of him. Tiramisu layer if you will.

To me, when I found out about his upbringing I thought "oh" and began trying to piece together this man logically and found what I came up with different than how sjm portrayed so I thought it must be because of the literal five centuries difference. That's got to do something.

Truthfully, not really when I think about it and that's why I'm still here in the fandom working out his character but that's a discussion for another time.

I put him in a modern au to work out how his character would be, so people might think this story is out of character but I'm really just exploring the things sjm hasn't shed light on.

So going back to the original question, if I find I'm going off course in working out his character and not following the narrative (for example in this chapter I wrote 5k words of something that was supposed to be barely a hundred.) I have got to brief that part. Especially if it's telling rather than showing. I focus on that alot.

So I'm not necessarily grabbing a whole chunk and going off with his head! That would ruin the thread of storytelling in the chapter. No, I just brief some paragraphs, replace some words with clever adjectives, cut out bits of my thoughts so that the thought is now a thread that you can look into yourself with a magnifying glass and go "hmmmm" as you puff on your pipe and stroke the ends of your magnificent moustache.

But do I just grab a whole scene and go *toss into garbage* nah don't need that? Nope. That's why my precious Alex (@illyrian-bookworm seriously she deserves loads of credit) is so helpful. She goes ey yo girl you can just brief this, brevity is the soul of wit and I'll be like aight got you fam thanks.

So don't worry- I won't let y'all down. At least I hope. Chapter 8 is done but needs some edit magic working, and chapter 9 is following soon especially because I decided to put a huge chunk of 8 in it and make it a part 2 lol. You won't have to wait for 9 much.

#apaixonar #anon asks #asks

[911-whatsyouremergency]

Flowers

Every afternoon, when Buck arrived home, he sat on his garden facing the street and watched the people pass by. Buck noticed that every Saturday the same man crossed the park in front of his house, looked at his house for a second and then continued on his way.

Next Saturday, worried that maybe he was planning a robbery or something,  stayed home all day, but watched from the inside. 

In the morning, at the time he was usually at work, he saw the man approach his garden, look around to see if anyone was watching, cut more than a few flowers and continued walking.

Angry, Buck chased the man, grabbed his arm and forced him to stop walking. “Why did you cut my flowers”. The man looked down “I just needed them for… ehmm. I’m sorry, you can have them back” he said while handing them back.

What could he possibly have needed them for? Was he meeting a girl and forgot the flowers? Maybe that was it. “Nah, no need”, said a little calmer, “Just let me go with you, so i can see the girl that was so pretty you had to steal some flowers for”, he added. 

“You really don’t have to” he answered a little nervous

“I really do have to, it’s the only way to make up for my stolen flowers”, Buck insisted. 

The man really didn’t Buck to go with him, but he couldn’t get rid of him and he didn't want everyone to think he was a thief so he ended up agreeing.

On the way there, Buck wanted to learn a bit more about the man, but the only thing he managed to get from him was his name, not even his full name, just how people usually called him: Eddie.

Eddie kept trying to get rid of him by saying stuff like “It’s a long way from here”, or “It seemed you were having a good time at your place, I really don’t want to ruin your day”, but Buck always knew what to answer, “I have time”, “You really aren’t ruining my day, you could make it better though, by telling me a bit about yourself”.

They continued walking until they arrived at a coffee shop. “Is it here?” Buck asked looking at the place, there was barely anyone in there, maybe he would stick around to grab a coffee for himself. Eddie grabbed his phone, checked a few messages and said “Well, apparently she couldn’t make it, sorry pal. Want your flowers back?”. 

“No, I said you could keep them, and you should” Buck answered.

“Well, I’ll be leaving” Eddie left as fast as he could, so buck couldn’t stop him. 

Buck felt sorry for him, Eddie seemed uncomfortable the whole time. Buck didn’t want to bother him, he just wanted to know more about him.

Buck sat somewhere he could watch the street, like he used to do at home. The first thing he saw was the cemetery across the street, that made him sad, he saw people coming in and out, not a single smile on their faces. But what got Buck even more sad was seeing Eddie go in with the flowers he had taken from his garden. Now it all made sense. How could he be so stupid? Of course the flowers weren’t for a girl, he had improvised the coffee shop and the message because he didn’t want Buck to see him go to the cemetery. Buck paid for the coffee and left as fast as he could, he didn’t want to interrupt or bother him again, but he needed to apologize.

Buck crossed the street and entered the cemetery looking for Eddie, he found him standing in front of two gravestones. Buck’s heart broke completely. He walked slowly closer to Eddie.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I pushed, I realize why you didn’t answer my questions about her” Buck said with a soft voice.

Eddie looked at him, he looked like he was about to break. Even if he just met him, he went closer and gave him a hug. He just felt horrible, maybe if he hadn’t pushed from the beginning, he wouldn’t be that sad. 

“It’s- It’s just not her” Eddie said sobbing “It’s my boy too” he added and started to cry on Buck’s shoulder. Buck looked at the other gravestone, it read “Christopher Diaz”, he was his son, Eddie had lost all his family and the only thing buck did was making him sadder. 

They stood there for a while, Eddie crying on buck’s shoulder, buck stroking his hair to let him know he was there for him. Eddie stopped crying and looked up, “What do you say we go to get coffee? This time for real” he said with a smile, a smile that indicated he was a little calmer not that he wasn’t sad anymore. Buck smiled and accepted. 

They went for coffee and buck finally learned a bit about Eddie, he was an army medic, that just got back from serving in Afghanistan. His family had died while he was serving and now he couldn’t forgive himself for “running away”. He then came to LA because he couldn’t stand living in that house without his family. 

From that day on, Eddie would always go to Buck’s house on Saturdays and pick some flowers that Buck let him cut. Then they would both go to the cemetery, say a few words, sometimes cry a little and then go for some coffee. Eddie was glad he chose that house to steal flowers from, and not any other house in the neighbourhood.

___________________________________________________________

As i said, my first time writing buddie, and my first time publishing in English. I still have a lot to learn, like how to write proper dialogue, or how to explain better the situations, and how to write better paragraphs.

So yeah, please have mercy, but also please leave some feedback. I need to know what I'm doing good and what to stop doing.

#911 #911 fox #tv: 911 #911 on fox #911 prompts #911 fic #911 show #evan buckley #buck buckley #buckley #buck #evan ‘buck’ buckley #eddie díaz #Eddie x Buck #Buck x Eddie #eddie #chris #Christopher Díaz #chris diaz #buddie #Buddie Fic #team buddie #please have mercy #my wriitng #angst #angst fic #is it tho?

[ansgar-martinsson]

Fair Winds and a Following Sky - Part 9

Ansgar Martinsson’s Flat. 21 July. 0315 hours

Anna wasn’t entirely sure what woke her. 

But when she did wake, she felt an odd, jumbled up sensation, a strange thump in her chest - a powerful knowledge of safety and comfort mixed in with a crippling panic that, for a few seconds, she had no idea where she was. 

She stretched and moaned, her joints protesting, her mind muzzy after hours and hours of sleep. Where her skin touched the bedsheets she found them soft and warm, luxuriously so, and the duvets above her were a solid, cloud-like weight, their scent something like jasmine. Rolling over on to her back, she finally allowed herself to open her eyes. 

The room was dark, save for a glow from the open door. She turned her head toward the other side of the room, eyes widening at the tapestry of twinkling lights that stretched from one side of the wall to the other, top to bottom. “Holy shit,” she muttered as she sat slowly up, stretched once again, and, dropping her hands to her crossed legs, gazed out the immense set of windows.

She was drawn to it. Not really knowing how, she found herself standing before it, her palms flat on the glass, peering like a child at the world below. She’d never seen anything quite like it, Stockholm. It was nothing like the view of Dallas she’d seen from the Travidge Property offices on one of the top floors of the Bank of America Building, nothing like the view from the hayloft of her barn... or, what had been her barn. 

This was something entirely different. The buildings were shadowed, but lit at the same time. Smaller brick and stucco edifices, reaching spires, bridges, ships, trains, thousands of tiny windows outlined the shape of winding streets and glowing, almost flaming rivers. No, not rivers, she reminded herself. Not rivers. What was the word? Fjords. 

This, she remembered, was not home. She was not home. She was somewhere else altogether. Somewhere strange. Somewhere... she was not entirely prepared for.

She’d just pressed her forehead to the pane to follow the path of a cyclist on the road below when she heard it. She stiffened, pushed back from the window and turned her head, her ear toward the open bedroom door. Again, the sound, and in quick succession two, three... four more times. 

“What the....” she held her hands out before her, feeling her way back across the foot of the expansive bed to the door. She pushed it open the rest of the way and stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The punctuated, percussive, irregular noise drew her to the right, and she continued past four more doors, around a corner and finally to a room situated at the end. 

The door was partway open, the light coming from the room was an incandescent gold, and there was music, then - not loud, but the definite chest-deep thrum and screaming wail and speed-crash of some sort of heavy metal band. There were words, but either they were too muffled for her to hear or growl-shouted in a language she couldn’t understand.

Probably the latter.

She crept along the wall, not wanting the occupant of the room to discover her there, and arriving at the edge of the door, she bent her head to peer in. Upon seeing the source of the strange noises, she turned and stood against the door jamb, her hands clutching the wood as she stared at what she found inside. 

It was him. Alan... no, Ansgar. His back was to her, and Heaven help her, his upper body was bare. He wore only a pair of black and silver boxing shorts; padded black fingerless gloves on his hands. The noise she’d heard was the dense and heavy thwap! of his fists, and an occasional thump! of a barefooted kick against a massive heavy bag, punctuated by harsh breaths and feral grunts. Over and over, he threw his entire weight through his fists or through the top of his feet, making the bag recoil - almost murdering the thing with each blow. 

She watched him -- studied his lithe, graceful, yet viciously barbaric movements as he went through his pugilistic paces -- and a small smile played on the corners of her lips. He was heavier than she’d remembered him. Broader shoulders, narrower waist, albeit with a minuscule amount of pudge, but that was okay. At least, she thought, he wasn’t so thin she could see his ribs like before. 

Now, in place of the visible cage of bone, the thick muscle of his writhing, twisting back seemed to span eternity. Even his tattoos loomed larger - the scar-ruined crest on his upper arm was darker, wider; and the branches on his back were longer, reedier, more apt to schuss in the wind like she imagined they were doing right then.

Fighting a wash of giddiness, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to wonder what the flesh of that back would feel like under her hands. She reveled in how she would entwine herself within his arms, bury her face in his chest, curl her fingers and create striped runnels in the thin sheen of sweat that coated his skin. How she would taste him - trace her tongue along the lines of distinct definition on his arms, his abdomen, along the back of his neck, would cup her hand beneath his tight little....

“The hell are you doing here?”

Her eyes flew open. “I... uh....”

He panted, his lungs making use of his whole body to siphon gouts of air. He stood hunched and beast-like, shoulders rounded, hands clenched and dangling at his sides. “Close your... your mouth,” he grunted. “You look like... a moron... standing there gawping... at me.”

She obeyed. Her teeth clacked shut and her eyebrows shot nearly to her hairline. “I’m sorry to butt in and all, I just... heard... noises, and....”

He quirked a small grin, and the tension in his body and his aspect quickly softened, humanized. “Relax. Its okay.” He picked up a towel and mopped at his face, pushing the terry cloth back through his dripping hair. “I apologize for waking you. I thought, actually,” he lifted a water bottle and took a long, deep draw, letting go with a loud ah!, “thought you’d sleep at least until morning... either that or,” another pull from the bottle, “mmm.. or I’d have to wake you with a kiss or something.”

She blinked. “A... kiss?”

He chuckled, gesturing to her with the open mouth of the Hydroflask. “Sleeping Beauty, you know? Sleep of the dead, prince’s kiss, and all that shit.”

“Oh, no,” she giggled nervously. “You didn’t wake me up, I... wait. Until morning, you said? What time’s it now?”

Ansgar peered up at the circular analog clock on the gym wall. “Half three, from the looks of it.”

She cocked her head and ventured a step into the gym. “Why’re you up? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

He shook his head. “Don’t for that long usually.” He straddled a bench and proceeded to towel sweat from the rest of his body. Anna sighed quietly, regretting the lost opportunity to fulfill her girlish fantasy. “Besides, I had some things... some work to take care of.”

“At three in the morning?”

“Nah,” he breathed. “I finished at about half one. Been in here ever since.”

“Okay, so, let me ask it this way. Do you always beat the shit out of your heavy bag at three in the morning?”

“I take the opportunities when they arise.” He shrugged, leaned his elbows on his knees, pulled off his gloves, and began unwrapping his hands and wrists. “One has to find a way to divest oneself of one’s pent up aggression. Better than beating the shit out of another person in the daylight, eh?”

“Or under a halogen lamp,” she bowed her head, hiding her sly grin behind the curtain of her long bed-mussed hair, “just after sunset.” 

“I suppose,” he sniffed, his lips curving into a wry smile. “Bring back some long lost memories, did it? Seeing me fight? Standing back and watching me pummel things?”

“I never lost those memories,” she murmured. “I remember everything about you. Everything.”

***

Nowhere, Oklahoma. Two Years Prior. Two Weeks Earlier

He was, in Anna’s vocabulary, plumb ornery. 

It had been a long, sweltering hot day of work on the barn. Progress, yes, but progress wrought with frustration. Wrought with a table saw that decided to fucking die in the middle of a rip cut. Wrought with a twenty-foot extension ladder that was nearly shoved over - with him on top of it - by a pair of horny goats. Wrought with the throbbing, stinging reminder of the consequences failing to wear long sleeves, a hat, or to reapply sunscreen to his unaccustomed Nordic skin.

In a word, he was angry, shaken, exhausted, and quite sunburnt. 

Not to mention hungry.

Anna was away in Oklahoma City. Steak dinner taken with a prospective client, the owner of a newborn Arabian. He, in contrast, choked down a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich on bland American bread followed by the next course - a disgustingly sweet half can of Mountain Dew garnished with two Advil. The dissatisfaction with his paltry meal only added to his ire. 

He threw himself onto the sofa, hissing as his reddened neck rubbed against the rough horse blanket. He lifted his legs gingerly, groaned, and rest his stockinged feet on the coffee table, where retrieved his book. This, he opened - preparing to delve into the mysterious world of Nero Wolfe, to forget the troubles of the day, of the world... of his life....

He’d barely managed to read two paragraphs of Archie Goodwin’s biting commentary before he succumbed to his toilworn body’s insistent demands for sleep. 

He didn’t hear the wail of screeching brakes and a crunching skid of tires on gravel, or the other set of the same sounds that followed. He didn’t hear the  heavy, hollow thunk! thunk! of one truck door slamming shut, then another. He didn’t hear Anna’s angry “Go home, Brian. Not now,” or the furied scuffle of bootsteps moving at a rapid pace through the grit. The pace quickly halted, replaced by a shuffling struggle, kicks and scuffs....

... and a scream.

“Brian, let... go! Aah! Fucking... get off me!”

That scream, that is what he heard; and what drew him immediately up, off the sofa, pelting across the living room and out the front door. The door banged on its hinges as he yanked it open, his still unshod feet all but carrying him in flight down the front porch. 

He didn’t think; he simply acted. Acted in response to her continued screams, to her frightened cries and huffing struggles. He didn’t really see what Brian Travidge was doing to Anna, not really. All he knew was that the hulk of a man was on her, was somehow molesting her, was... hurting her.

“Get the fuck off!” he bellowed. He dug his fingers into the meat of the man’s shoulders like eagle talons and yanked, catching him off guard and tossing his bulk to the ground. “Stay down!” he commanded, and turned his attention, albeit briefly to Anna. “Get inside and lock the door.”

“I can handle this, Alan. I -- ”

“No!” he barked. “Just go!”

“Alan --”

“Go!”

Anna nodded, clutched her handbag around her like a protective shield and ran to the house. She did as he ordered and locked the door behind her; but she couldn’t help it. She knelt, child-like, upon the window seat, pressed her hands to the pane, and watched.

She watched as he hovered over Brian, yelling, screaming, spit spraying like fire from his lips. She watched as Brian shot to his feet, shoved his shoulder into Alan’s middle and slammed him into the gravel. Alan rolled, pushed up on his hands and knees and managed to get to his feet even with Brian’s weight on his back. The men continued to scuffle and skirmish, the advantage slipped back and forth between them; a jab to the gut here, a hook to the kidney there, a headbutt, a kick to the knee, a flip over the shoulder....

.... until Brian was once again on the ground, and Alan bent viciously, yet slightly wobbly, over him. “Stay down!” he yelled once again; but Brian, once again, disobeyed. Her brother in law got slowly to his feet, his eyes blazing, boring into Alan’s as he rose. 

And before Brian could move, before Brian could speak, Alan twisted back and shot his fist into the side of Brian’s head. Brian reeled, shook himself like a wet dog, and sat down hard in the dirt.

She watched as Alan lifted Brian from beneath his armpits and shoved him against the side of the man’s F-450. She didn’t hear what Alan said to him, but it was clear from the tight clutch of Alan’s left hand around the collar of Brian’s t-shirt, from the raised finger of the right hand, from the wide stance and the almost serpent-like movements of his head that it was a threat, and a quite malevolent one at that. 

And finally, she watched as Brian turned, wrenched his truck door open and scampered inside. Alan stepped back, arms out to his sides in mock invitation. Brian cranked the engine to life and the truck’s tires spun in the gravel. Before she knew it, the truck was out of sight, leaving Alan, arms still open, silhouetted against a white-lit cloud of driveway dust.

She sighed, “Oh, God,” and covered her face, bellowing her pent up anger into her hands. She felt sick - the medium-rare filet with bleu cheese felt like a wodge in her gut. She curled up against the wave of nausea and and rest her forehead on the edge of the window seat. She remained there, breathing, trying desperately to sluice away the fear and confusion of the past half hour, trying to rid herself of the image of Brian’s twisted, cruel face, of the echoes of his terrible words... Whore. Fucking slut. Injun bitch.

She expected to hear Alan’s footsteps on the porch, expected to hear the door open, maybe even expected... wished.... to feel his arms around her, to reassure her, for her to comfort him. But no sound came. The door didn’t open, and no matter how devoutly she wanted it, she did not feel his touch.

“Alan?” She sat up, shoved her hair from her face and peered out the window. She gasped at the sight of him, unmoving, unconscious and spread-eagle on the ground. “Oh my God! Alan!” Her legs carried her, just like his had earlier, out the front door, down the porch steps, and out into the stark-white pool of street light....

#fair winds and a following sky

[dat-fandom-losertown]

Happy NHPC Day!

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Chapter 1

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Spideypool / Peter Parker + Wade Wilson

Warnings: Non-graphic Violence, A paragraph or two of homophobia, A single homophobic slur

Word Count: 6,122

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Summary:

    Peter and Wade have a tradition they've been following every Valentine's Day and National Half-Priced Candy Day for several years now. They patrol all day and night for Valentine's in their special "June-themed" suits, and on the 15th they spend their day cuddling, eating cheap candy, and napping to make up for the lack of rest from the day before.     This year, though, Peter wants to do something slightly different for NHPC day. Something neither of them will ever forget.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

~> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

    Hey guys! I know I haven’t written anything but D:BH here so far (and I may make a late Valentine’s thing for that fandom too), but it had always been my plan to be a multi-fandom account eventually, and I couldn’t miss out on the “Isn’t it Bromantic” Spideypool Discord server’s Valentine’s Day Challenge!

    If Spideypool isn’t your thing, I totally get it and I don’t expect you to read this (and I’m gonna be making a post about what to do if you don’t want to see a ship or fandom you don’t like real soon), but if it is your thing, then Welcome! There isn’t much true fluff in this chapter, and this is kind of all over the place, but there absolutely will be tomorrow in the second part and things will tie together! So please hang in there, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

    “Spidey-poo! Spider-honey! Web-darling!”

    Peter quickly spots Wade’s bright suit and rolls his eyes as he quickly and sternly shushes him, knowing the other super can hear him even if he’s on the rooftop across the street. He swings over and meets Wade on the other side with practiced grace.

    “‘Pool, it is five in the morning and normal people are still sleeping! You can’t just yell like that!”

    Wade, as expected by this point, completely ignores Peter’s halfhearted chiding and instead sweeps him up into a large bear hug as if they hadn’t just seen each other thirty minutes ago.

    “My baby boy’s looking extra bi for this valentine’s day!” He spins them around a couple of times for good measure, then sets him down, keeping his hands on his shoulders. “Did you upgrade the gay suit? Because this looks even better than it did in June!”

    A few years back, Wade had jokingly made a comment about wearing pride colors on patrol during the month of June, just to rub it into the “old bigots’ faces” and to get a good laugh. After a day or two of not being able to get that thought out of his head, he figured that if cops can’t be at pride, then at least Spiderman and Deadpool should be able to join in to keep the crime at bay.

    As soon as he told Wade this, the ex-merc went all out. He made an entirely new suit for the occasion instead of just taping a flag to his shoulders like Peter was expecting. He argued that “How are the people supposed to know we’re there to help and support if all they see is the usual red with black and red and blue?” and admitted he already had designs for their pride suits ready to go for ages. Wade’s was based off of his pansexuality with all the red parts turned bright pink, the black became bright blue, and all of his weapons (most of them being non-lethal now, thanks to Peter’s insistence) replaced with ones that are bright gold and yellow.

    That first year, Peter refused an altered suit, mostly because back then their relationship was newer and he was worried about somehow paying Wade the favor back. Although, he allowed Wade to make it the next year since the design for it was much more subdued than Wade’s by far, and he seemed to have so much fun in his new get up. For Peter’s suit, the blue stayed the same, the red became magenta, and his eye-pieces and web designs became purple all in tribute to his own bisexuality.

    The next February after that was when Peter (not Wade, surprisingly enough) came up with the idea to wear these suits on their annual Valentine’s day 20 hour watch, just to show the heteros that they still exist outside of pride month.

    That, and “Bi-derman” and “Pan-pool” slash “Dead-pan” are kind of a big hit, so why the hell not?

    Peter hasn’t done much altering to his suit beyond repairs, but since last June, he’s completely remade the suit in a tougher material and made the blue and magenta more vibrant and the purple web designs darker to help with the contrast. He also made his eye-pieces white because holy hell was it hard to see through those darker lenses.

    “You have a good eye, ‘Pool. Do you like it?” He sticks his arms out and slowly spins as he continues, “I remade it with the extra money from that raise I got a while back.”

    Wade quickly grabs Peter and pulls him close again, this time letting his hands roam over the fabric. He can feel the appraise Wade is silently sending him, and the part of him that was worried about making the protective padding on his chest and gut look more muscular rather than lean settles immediately.

    “Mmmyes. Me likey this a lot.” He takes a step back and pointedly looks Peter up and down, “Where did you even hide this? I swear I looked in our secret closet and under the bed when I definitely wasn’t snooping for my Christmas presents again.”

    Peter rolls his eyes, and he bets that Wade knows it even if his eyes are covered. “If I told you where then I’d have to find a way to erase your memory, because killing you isn’t an option.”

    “I dunno, babe, you just might kill me with this damn suit.” He hesitates, then flops his head back with a groan, “Fuck, you’re right, I only get to see it on you for a month and a day a year. How did you even get this level of muscle definition to show through your suit? You look like you do in some of the comics! Clothes in real life don’t work like this!”

    “Bullet-resistant padding thanks to Tony and a lot of neat seam-work to make it look like natural muscle.” Peter states matter-of-factly, “Get me the materials and I could do the same for your suits, since I don’t think Tony will offer to give you any.”

    “Nah. I don’t need it, and I don’t want to distract from this gorgeous bod’–” he cups Peter’s face “–anytime soon.” Wade gently places his forehead on Peter’s, letting their masked-noses bump. He ruins the moment by murmuring “Is there anything I can do to make you wear this suit in the bedroom?”

    “No.” Peter swiftly turns and walks to the edge of the building, waiting for Wade to hop on his back.

    “But baby...” the man in question whines, “You wear your other one–”

    “Only sometimes and only when you distract me before I can completely change, and I don’t want this one ruined before I can wear it this June.” He ignores Wade’s pout and says, “This fabric is much harder to wash.”

    “Ugh, fine. At least I get to watch you flip around some baddies today” he wiggles happily.

    “You won’t if you don’t friggin’ hurry up!” he sing-songs, casting a web out in preparation to swing away.

    Wade doesn’t respond, but his spidey-senses tingle a warning of something incoming, so he braces himself as his boyfriend leaps onto his back. He loops his legs over Peter’s hips and his arms around his shoulders, then they’re off.

    They swing for almost 45 minutes before the duo hear their first cry for help of the day.

    Peter hastily swings over to where they heard the woman cry out, and from there it isn’t hard to find her being held hostage by a man in a wolf mask (seriously, why a wolf? Could he only afford a mask from the halloween clearance shelf?) while a well-dressed man shakily pulls out his wallet. Wade drops in, and Peter pretends he didn’t hear the crunch of one of his joints twisting wrong during the landing. By the time Peter drops in to help calm the couple down, Wade has already knocked out and tied up the perpetrator. The couple thanks the vigilantes, then hurry off to the subway, eager to get back to a safer part of the city.

    As per usual on their Valentine’s day “event”, they personally drag the mugger to the police station themselves. The police usually have enough on their plate as it is without Spiderman and Deadpool calling them all day to pick someone up if the duo can just do it themselves. Besides, it gives the couple a chance to interact with the public, even if that’s sometimes less-than-pleasing.

    Thankfully, they don’t run into too much drama on the way to the station. A young man on the way to work stops them for a picture, admitting that he’s been excited to see the pictures of them in their pride uniforms online later today while a stranger scoffs at them, but that’s hardly drama and is completely expected.

    When it starts getting close to seven o’clock in the morning, things start picking up. By the time nine rolls around, they’ve stopped two more minor muggings and talked someone down from trying to commit a crime, which doesn’t successfully happen nearly as often as Peter would like. They buy an ungodly amount of breakfast and hand a chunk of it out to homeless people before they spot someone trying to break into a window on the fourth floor of an apartment building. Peter goes to take care of it while Wade skips away to pass out more food.

    “Yo!” Peter calls jovially as he climbs up the wall, “You know, this is extremely dangerous for someone who doesn’t have spider powers, so if you could just–”

    His spidey senses suddenly warn him and he jumps to the left, narrowly missing a metal skewer to the shoulder. 

    “What the hell?! Do you know how dangerous it is to carry those around–” he dodges another one “–normally? And, like, you’re on a rickety– woah!–” He twists his body in order to not get hit “–rickety old fire escape throwing them, so–” He narrowly misses the next one “–Damn it! Would it hurt you to stop for two seconds! Why are you even getting into this specific apartment? There are easier and sneakier ones to get into!”

    “My ex wife lives here.” He confesses, throwing another skewer, “She cheated on me with two other people, then divorced me and is trying to take everything! See! I’m not some low-life criminal, so just leave me alone!”

    Peter wasn’t actually expecting an answer, but he can try to make-do with this.

    “Do you have evidence of her cheating?” he tries, and it must work on some level because the man stops throwing skewers. Just how many did he have, anyway? And why skewers of all things?

    The man nods, still hesitating on the next skewer. Damn it, he needs to think of something fast. Well, he doesn’t need to, but he’d rather not send this guy to the cops. He seems like one of the dudes he can calm down.

    “Okay, well, do you know if the people she cheated on you with knows she’s cheating on them?”

    The guy ponders this for a moment. “No, I don’t think so.”

    “So… Why not try getting together and form a mini mob to maybe, I dunno, publicly humiliate her? Instead of breaking into her apartment or hurting her? Or both? Instead of making yourself out as the bad guy?”

    “Ooo! Who are we publicly humiliating!” Deadpool calls from the bottom of the fire escape. “I want in on the action! I’m really good at scheming!” he rubs his hands together like some kind of mad scientist.

    “Deadpool, now is not the time–”

    “So you’d help me get revenge on my cheating ex-wife?”

    “Wait–”

    “Oh hell yeah! We’re gonna blow her cover just like I blow–”

    “Okay!” Peter shouts over what was undoubtedly about to be Wade bragging about their nighttime activities again. Or maybe he was actually going to mention one of the explosives or grenades he has back at home, who knows?

    This scenario is one of the “If you can’t beat them, join them” type, isn’t it? Well, in this case it’s probably closer to “If you can’t stop them, leave and pretend that it isn’t happening for as long as possible, then deny it did for even longer.”

    He sighs and mutters “I can not believe I’m about to do this,” before shouting down to Wade, “Since you’re apparently going to actually do this, can there not be any bodily harm or apartment destruction? If not anything else?”

    “Aw, but baby boo, arson is the third best crime to commit…” At Peter’s stern look, he relents. “Fine, but if we’re gonna do this right, but I want a little fee for this amazing plan I’m coming up with!”

    Peter takes that and the man’s positive response as his cue to leave and pretend his boyfriend isn’t plotting to cause a huge scene with three other people today. It’s much easier to do once he catches some asshole slipping his hand up some girl’s dress while keeping her at gunpoint in some alley.

    A web here, a punch there, and another punch, and a kick. Then one last kick and punch just for good measure, along with another web, and the girl is saved and the wrong-doer is unconscious and tied up. In the not sexy way, Deadpool would probably add if he was here.

    “Thank you, Spiderman!” he hears the woman sobs before she pounces on him with a hug.

    “Woah, hey, you’re safe now.” He awkwardly hugs the stranger back.

    “He’s been stalking me for a while and I’ve just been hoping that I could get close to a police station or something but then he disappeared and cut me off and I couldn’t run in these heels and he got me–”

    “Hey hey hey, he’s gone now. He’s not gonna hurt anyone anymore, okay?” He pulls away from her, and she gives a shaky nod. “Okay, do you have anyone you can call–”

    “Spidey!” he hears the familiar voice sing at the end of the alley, “You left without me!” The footsteps suddenly stop, and Wade’s voice becomes much softer. “Hey, you alright? No one important is hurt?” He glances over to the webbed up man briefly.

    The woman shakes her head. Knowing that Wade will probably keep quiet for now, Peter restates his question.

    “Do you have anyone you can call for now so you’re not alone?”

    The girl nods again, “I was just on my way to meet my partner. They’d come right away.” She huffs a wet laugh, “They actually adore you two. You helped them from a bunch of bullies at pride two years ago.”

    “I’m glad we can get to them in time, then.” Peter smiles.

    “Hells yea! The world could do with more people who say “fuck you” to gender rolls!” He points to nothing as he continues, “And you read that right, readers! Rolls with two L’s wasn’t a typo, because gender rolls are the nastiest kind of bread. Yuck!”

    The woman huffs a laugh then looks up from her ringing phone, tilting her head in sudden confusion, “Readers? Typo?”

    “Don’t worry about it,” Peter cuts in, “It’s just a thing he does.” He doesn’t want to take the time to explain Wade’s weird habits of doing something called “breaking the fourth wall”, and how he addresses some things to readers and others to viewers or watchers and other to his two internal “boxes” named “Yellow” and “White”.

    Peter hears the person on the other end finally pick up the phone and ask if something’s up. The woman asks them to go to a certain coffee shop to meet her instead of the fountain– wherever that could be in a place like this– to meet her. The other person immediately agrees. Peter is also mildly impressed and rather touched that they also asked for her to stay on the line until they meet instead of just hanging up in a rush like plenty of people seem to do. This person is definitely good for this lady.

    They end up walking with the woman to the aforementioned coffee shop, and they chat a little with the person on the line while Peter keeps a very close ear out for anything odd that may need his assistance and pays close attention to his spidey-senses. They get a photo with one group of kids and their parents on the way, then a few more pictures once they meet up with Kasandra’s (they finally got the woman’s name) partner. After that, a group of teens on a triple date quickly came up for pictures and complimented their pride suits.

    Peter’s spidey sense starts going off before the teens can say much else. With Deadpool quickly and securely latching onto his back, he climbs up a wall to safely swing away to the danger.

    After that, it becomes a pretty normal day, as far as patrolling goes. Despite the fact that most of New York City knows that Spiderman and Deadpool patrol all day and night long on most holidays, the crime rate still rises on them. It makes Peter wonder just how many people they don’t get to whenever they patrol; how many people call out for them specifically when Peter is too far away to hear them or sense them being in danger?

    He doesn’t want to know the answer to that, and Wade does his best to help Peter keep his brain from travelling down those dark paths once he figured out it made his depression and anxiety that much worse.

    He honestly doesn’t know what he’d do without Wade. They’ve been together for so long that Peter can’t imagine a day where he’d be gone for good. Yeah, he still sometimes spends weeks or, very rarely, months away for some SHIELD job, but he always eventually comes back. He’s almost completely immune to his “Parker Luck” because he’s technically immune to death and injury. So the thought that one day Wade may leave and not come back because something between them just couldn’t be worked through?

    It’s terrifying.

    The thing about that last thought, though, is that Peter can’t imagine not being able to work things out with Wade. They always work things out. They’ve been living with each other for years now, so that was something they had to learn how to do a long while ago. Even their various friends agree that, as much as they banter like best friends, they also tend to argue and compromise over small things like an old, married couple. He and Wade never try to argue their observations either. Peter isn’t quite so sure about his other half, but he feels like they’re already a married couple. There’s just no rings or legal papers to make it official yet.

    Yet.

    He abruptly pauses at webbing a group of home intruders to the brick wall in front of him to watch Wade with wide eyes as the other chatters away, searching for a cell phone to call the police with so these guys can be picked up.

    Wade’s self-esteem would probably never allow him to ask Peter to marry him, even though they’ve been dating for over six years now and living together for about the same length of time. Even if they had been dating for twelve or twenty years, he doubts Wade would be able to do it without backing out or panicking just because he’d probably feel like he was trapping Peter or something bizarre but sadly understandable like that, especially if his boxes are in a shitty mood that hnypothetical day. 

    He doesn’t doubt for a moment that Wade loves him deeply, even with all the shit they give each other. Hell, especially with all the shit they give each other. It means a hell of a lot when people can make fun of each other and poke at each other and can trust wholeheartedly that the other person knows that it means nothing or comes from a place of pure love, especially for people with backgrounds filled with anxiety like Peter and Wade.

    It takes a lot of trust to open oneself up completely to another person, and Wade is the first person like that for Peter ever since he became Spiderman, and Peter hopes he’s close enough to being that person for Wade in return. It takes a lot of love and trust on both of their parts to deal with the somewhat common panic attacks, depression dips, and self-punishments and the less common hallucinations and serious depression dips and still stick around after all is said and done.

    They’ve been together through thick and thin, through grave injuries and actual death (on Wade’s account, anyway). They’ve stuck together through sickness and loss, happiness and wealth (there was a few months where Wade was apparently secretly convinced that Peter would leave once he was no longer dirt poor, but that’s been proven wrong a hundred times over by now). They’ve been through everything the traditional wedding vows mention, and the “until death do us part” really only works on Peter, but his powers and trained skills don’t make him an easy target, either.

    Peter knows what he wants to do, or rather, he’s just now realized what he’s been wanting for a long while. And now that he knows what’s missing, he’s going to take the first steps to get it. Wade took the first steps in starting their relationship, so it’s only fair that Peter takes the first step or two towards their marriage. Probable marriage, he corrects himself, because if there’s one thing he’s learned from being with Wade all these years, it’s that if something has even one percent chance of happening, it’s plenty of wiggle room for the ex-merc to do it. And Peter’s only 99 percent sure that he’ll say yes.

    That just means he needs to make tomorrow the best National Half-Priced Candy Day yet.

    “Spidey?” Wade snaps him out of his thoughts, sounding like that wasn’t the first time he called for him.

    Peter shakes his head. “Sorry. Just got a bit carried away in my head I guess.”

    Wade nods thoughtfully. Peter can practically see the concern dripping off of him. “You need a break? We’ve been at this for–” he checks the stranger’s phone still in his hand, “twelve hours now. Dang.” He pauses. “I know right? But you know what they say, time flies when you’re having fun, and I’m always having fun when our snookums is around!” Wade’s bright grin stretches the bright pink and blue fabric of his mask.

    “I usually have fun when you’re around too, ‘Pool.” Peter grins and turns away. He hears a gasp behind him.

    “Baaabe!!” he whines, “Only usually? You wound me! I am always fun, especially when–” He abruptly stops. When he doesn’t immediately respond to whatever his boxes are saying, Peter turns around.

    Wade is looking at Peter with a strangely somber expression, one that’s obvious through his mask. Then he picks himself up in what Peter can now tell is false cheer.

    “You know, Spidey, if you ever get tired of me–”

    “Never gonna happen.” Peter walks towards Wade and puts his hands on his undoubtedly surprised face. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, ya doof.” He pecks a kiss to his masked nose then pulls away. “Come on, then! We have more criminals to stop and people to save!”

    Peter hesitates just long enough for Wade to jump on his back before taking off. As he swings them through the city, he starts thinking of a plan of action for tomorrow.

    If there was any chance that he was wrong about Wade’s self esteem not letting him pop the question first, what the ex-merc just said squashed it, which means Peter will have to be the one to do it. He could go the easy way and go about their usual NHPC day and get down on one knee when they’re back at home (because for as much as Wade puts on an act of shamelessness and seems to constantly overshare, he’s strangely a rather private person), but he doesn’t particularly want to.

    A quick look to the left mid-swing and he thinks he has the perfect thing.

    His spidey-senses guide him to the right, so he follows. It doesn’t take very long at all for the pair to spot the dark smoke in the sky directly ahead of them. They make it there quickly, taking in the apartment building that is almost overrun by bright flames, the two fire trucks, and the group of firefighters on the street trying their best to evacuate people and put out the worst of the fire. Wade points out that the fire escape must either be engulfed by flames or has broken off or something because he can see a couple through a window on the top floor.

    Without stopping to ask what happened or what’s needed of them– mainly because they’d probably say something that basically means “go away and mind your own business”– they enter the building through a window on the top floor (“Wade! You didn’t have to break it!” “The entire building is basically broken! It’s fine!”) since they both believe that, with the get up most of them are wearing, the firefighters are working on evacuating the people in the thick of the flames now and haven’t reached anyone in the higher floors.

    Besides, the materials Peter and Wade use to make their respective suits aren’t exactly heat and flame resistant, so this is how they can be helpful.

    Inside the building is, predictably, hot and smokey from the flames, and Peter knows it will get louder too as they reach the floors that are closer to the majority of the fire. They split up and work through the top floor first with Peter safely lowering two small families, two couples, and several animals down one or two at a time while Wade searches for any others and gathers them to their chosen window. Once Wade says it’s clear and the civilians are safe, they move downstairs to the next floor and set up the same system.

    This floor is proven to be a bit more difficult when Wade comes back with two cats and informs Peter that their owner is a business man that recognized Deadpool as the mercenary he hasn’t been in a long while and accused him of setting the building on fire while simultaneously begging for his life. So Peter has to leave his post at the window and let Wade lower the few remaining people down while he goes and talks to the business man.

    Peter easily finds the middle-aged man cowering in the corner and tries to calm him down. Although, it very quickly becomes apparent that he isn’t having any of it because “Anyone who works with Deadpool only thirsts for blood, and you will not have mine that easily!” Peter just huffs and picks him up like a potato sack, ignoring his shouting and struggling while he carries him to the window in his kitchen. Peter casts a new web and makes a quick harness, gets the man– who had stopped struggling real fast once he realized he was no longer inside– and lowers him down faster than he had for the others.

    He meets up with Wade in the hallway, who apparently cleared the rest of the floor while Paranoid Man was causing a fuss, and they move down again. They hastily clear out most of the apartments on the third-to-top floor when Peter hears a shout and a gunshot from down the hallway. The only people there to lower the two small dogs he has on the line now are three siblings, the oldest being no older than 16 and the youngest no older than 10. Another gunshot forces Peter’s hand, though.

    “Hey! Do you think you could lower these pups down while I go check that out?”

    The oldest sibling, a girl with a pixie cut, ripped jeans, and a black sweatshirt, looks out the window and nods. She silently and shakily takes the webbing from him and starts to lower them. Peter doesn’t waste any time in sprinting down the hall to the last apartment where he last saw Wade disappear. Inside he finds a woman in her forties or fifties holding a gun to Wade’s unmoving body. Whether he’s dead or unconscious, he doesn’t know, but that doesn’t matter.

    “Hey! What the hell, lady! We’re trying to help!” Peter stomps towards her.

    “I’d rather die than be contaminated by freaks like you!”

    His spidey-sense suddenly screams at him, and Peter jumps and rolls to the side just in time to dodge the bullet that would have hit his chest.

    “What the fuck?!”

    “Get out of my damn apartment!” she screams, pointing the gun at him again.

    “Lady, there is literally a fire–”

    “And I will not be saved by faggots like you!”

    Oh… How fun… One of those people… 

    But she’s still a civilian, Peter reminds himself, and he really shouldn’t web her up in the corner of the room just because she’d rather die than accept help from someone who isn’t straight. No matter how much he kind of wants to right now. The fire probably won’t even reach this floor, anyway… But he still can’t.

    “This is a matter of life and death for you, what the hell–” He jumps to the left to dodge another bullet.

    “And I don’t fucking care!” She screams, “You can all go and burn in hell! But I won’t let myself be swayed by your cursed ways!” she shoots once more, and she should have only one shot left at most, if Peter’s counting right.

    She doesn’t get to shoot again, though, because Deadpool comes up behind her and knocks her out.

    “Do you know how close I was to killing her? Do you know how easy it’d still be to? God sometimes I wish I was still a mercenary. I mean, look at this! She got blood on my gay suit!” He complains, staring down at the woman disdainfully and poking at the single bullet wound in his chest. 

    Peter, instead of praising him for not killing her or explaining why they should keep her alive, just nods and jogs out of the apartment. He has other people he needs to save, afterall.

    He pretends to not hear Wade’s gasp and sinister chuckle behind him.

    He gets the siblings down, and Wade comes back with a dog and two cats in his arms, and the unconscious woman being dragged behind him by Wade’s new, golden whip (“Now I can be just like Wonder woman!” “Like who?” “Wonder Woman! She’s from the DC Universe and she’s my hero! Besides you, of course!” “Whatever you say, Wade…”). If anyone notices that he lowers the animals before he lowers the human, then they can deal with it. And if they notice that she has “BEWARE: HOMOPHOBIC ASSHOLE” written on her forehead in permanent marker, then it’s not his fault that he can’t control his boyfriend.

    Looking out of the window this time, they realize that the fire has gone down quite a bit. Wade comes running back down the hallway– when did he even leave?– cheering that the fire escape was just covered in fire, but now it’s safe to walk on. Before Peter has the chance to ask if it was safe for civilians to walk on or just supers, Wade jumps in and clarifies that he pretty much cannon-balled onto it and it didn’t bend, and it was only pretty warm through his ruined suit, rather than very warm.

    With that news (and after Peter tested it for himself), they waste no time in telling the other tenants they find to put thick shoes on and go down the fire escape. By the time they finish clearing the few people and animals left in the building, it’s pretty much dark out and some news stations are gathered around outside reporting what happened here for the nightly news.

    “Excuse me, miss,” He hears Wade say to his right. He turns and finds him talking to a young police officer. “How did this fire start? And why’d it get so big?”

    The young woman scowls a bit and opens her mouth to speak, but an older officer behind Peter interrupts her.

    “Someone was trying to make a romantic dinner on the fourth floor and started an oil fire, then tried putting it out with water. It got so big because traffic was horrible today, and we just couldn’t make it here as quickly as we needed.” he smiles ruefully.

    Peter turns to properly face the officer, “Do you know if anyone was seriously hurt?”

    He shakes his head. “But we know that so far there haven’t been any deaths reported so far. Animal or human.”

    Peter nods as Wade speaks. “Thank you, officer! We appreciate the work you do ‘round here, but we should get going!”

    Peter takes his cue and starts walking towards the building across the street to climb up and swing off of.

    “Hey,” the officer catches Peter and Wade’s attention, “I know a lot of other police officers don’t like you doing their job, but you’re doing some real good work out there. So thanks, Spiderman and Deadpool.”

    Peter nods, not really knowing what else to do, while Wade openly gapes through his mask. He pulls the ex-merc towards him, and he immediately clings to Peter’s back. They’re gone pretty quickly after that.

    “Babe! Baaabe!!” Wade shouts into his ear mid-swing, “That was amazing! We found someone who doesn’t hate us! And he thanked us!”

    “I know!” He cheers back. It’s always nice to get some positive recognition.

    Wade squeezes on to him tighter. “God, I’m so fucking glad I stopped murdering people.” He kisses the back of his neck through their suits. “I’m really glad I chose you. So happy... The happiest.” he continues quieter, more genuine.

    If Peter didn’t know better, he would’ve thought he wasn’t supposed to hear that last part, that it was just meant for himself and his boxes. But, well, he does know better.

    His brain decides to remind him of the ring he still has to buy by the end of tomorrow.

    Peter’s spidey-senses start humming at the same time that Wade shouts that he saw a young man and a suspicious older woman in an alley shortcut. They easily stop the woman from assaulting the poor teen before she could try with the element of surprise on their side, then they escort him back to a more populated area where it should be safer. Both Peter’s and Wade’s stomachs growl at the scent of sandwiches, so they go in and order enough for an army before and climbing up to the nearest rooftop to take a very-much-needed food break. They sit down and start digging in.

    Peter weighs the options of buying an engagement ring as Spiderman and risking outing his plans to everyone before he gets to properly propose to Wade, or somehow taking time out of their NHPC day plans (do nothing except go out to buy cheap candy together, cuddle, and munch on said candy) to buy a ring without being suspicious to the man whose job has always been finding people who don’t want to be found out.

    “Hey Wade?”

    Wade hums around his food and scoots more into Peter’s lap in lieu of a real response.

    “I was thinking we could do something slightly different than usual tomorrow?” Peter leans a bit to the side to get a better view of Wade’s reaction. It isn’t a negative one, but it’s also not positive.

    “Why? What’s up?” he asks once he swallows his food.

    Peter shuffles a bit. “Well, I was thinking, since candy isn’t usually the only thing that’s half-priced tomorrow, we could maybe split up for, let’s say, an hour or two? Just to buy a cute present for each other or something–”

    Wade’s excited gasp interrupts Peter. “Like those little stuffed animals that go right into clearance after Valentines? Or those super soft blankets and socks!” Wade squeals and waves his hands, flinging sandwich bits everywhere. “Petey-baby! You are brilliant! Like, I knew that already, but you’re just proving what we all already know! Even the boxes agree! Although, Yellow’s idea of a present is too close to Yandere simulator, but White thinks going down to Coney Island would be cool! But I don’t even think the rides are even open this early in the year. Besides! I just told you about it! So it isn’t a surprise anymore!” He points a finger high in the air and announces loudly, “Disqualified!”

    Peter smiles as he absently listens to Wade go on and on about present-buying tomorrow. Now he just needs to find the perfect ring online and pick it up at the store. If he can’t find the perfect one on such short notice, he doubts Wade will mind if he got a unicorn plushie and a very soft blanket instead. The ring and proposal doesn’t have to be rushed, as much as Peter really wants it to be. How could he not, when his fiance would be a sarcastic asshole and secret sweetheart like Wade Winston Wilson?

    Now the only important question left is, would it be Peter Wilson, Wade Parker, or Peter and Wade Wilson-Parker, or Parker-Wilson?

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~> Next

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