#and I get maybe 3 servings out of the jar before it is gone

[megansplants]

Long-term relationships are so funny.

We’re blissfully happy living together, our lives ended up meshing in a really lovely way. We haven’t had any kind of conflict since the initial stress of getting moved into our house. We’re affectionate and playful and make dinner together almost every night and making travel plans and talking about marriage and children.

I never really believed older couples when they say that when you’re with the right person, it’s not really the big stuff that causes problems, it’s the little stupid stuff.

Until I had to buy ANOTHER jar of the kind of peanut butter I like because Bridger ate all of it, instead of eating the kind he likes (and I don’t), and then did not buy a new jar. I went to the store to buy another jar and I was fuming all the way home and had to sit in the driveway for a minute to calm down because it was so stupid to be mad about peanut butter 😂

Long-term relationships are funny. 🥰

#ok but really though #he likes Adams #he says it’s healthier #and I like Jif #the texture of Adams is gross to me #I love how smooth Jif is #it is perfect for eating with apples #which is basically an entire food group for me because I eat it so often #but Bridger also likes Jif #he likes it better than Adams #but it’s ‘not as healthy’ as Adams #so he eats my Jif as a ‘treat’ #and when the Jif is gone #he starts to eat his Adams again #but doesn’t buy a new jar of Jif #SCREAMING INTERNALLY #those big jars of Jif are like $8 #and I get maybe 3 servings out of the jar before it is gone #so I go buy another jar for $8 #and I get maybe like 3 servings before that one is gone too #my budget for peanut butter has gone up exponentially since we moved in together #and it’s not even the $$$ because we’re lucky enough to be living quite comfortably #it’s that when I slice my apple and go to get the jar out of the cupboard and it is already gone I am so sad and I don’t like plain apples #so then I sadly eat my stupid bare apple

[ghosttotheparty]

part 1 // part 3 also on ao3

It seems to happen overnight.

King Steve and the Freak.

The students at school see them in the hallways, standing together and laughing, looking at each other with the stars in their eyes, and it doesn’t make any real sense. Steve with his pressed polos, tucked into his jeans, Eddie with his frizzy, overgrown curls and his metal chains and rings.

They talk. Exchange greetings in the hallways. And nobody knows when or how it happened.

They might be friends, but nobody says it. Like it might be a curse, a jinx. Like saying it out loud will change something that’s gone unspoken.

Steve snaps at Tommy Hagan when he refers to Eddie as a fucking freak. Eddie isn’t even around to hear it, but Steve looks angry in a way no one’s seen before, his cheeks red as he says, “I don’t give a fuck what you think he looks like, don’t fucking talk about him like that.” And it’s jarring, especially as Tommy H and Steve have been known best friends since sixth grade, and maybe because it’s so jarring, it works. Tommy H never talks badly about Eddie again (in front of Steve).

People see them talking in the parking lot before and after school, laughing and bantering before they part ways to go with their separate friend groups, all of whom stare and watch in confusion. None of them question it though, not when they just stare in response to the curious looks. The stares are almost scary, intense and daring. Firm What?s that deter anyone that wants to say something.

People see them at parties, disappearing behind doors to make deals, sitting in the kitchen and serving each other drinks before they go their separate ways.

Word spreads about them skipping detention together. Someone saw them leaning close together and writing on a piece of paper, laughing into their arms to keep quiet until Eddie noticed that the teacher had fallen asleep. Eddie had barely even hesitated before he got up to leave even though there was a little less than an hour left, and then he’d paused in the doorway, turning back to give Steve a look before Steve followed. And then people are concerned, because Eddie Munson is anything but a good influence.

But when Carol Perkins tries to talk to Steve about it, nothing hostile or anything, just a gentle question about if being friends with Munson is a good idea, Steve shuts her down with the same look he’s been giving everyone. But Carol is Carol, and she persists. She only stops when Steve says firmly, “You don’t know him, Carol. Just drop it.”

“I’m just saying, Steve, he is not a good influence—”

“And you guys are?”

And he’s met with a moment of silence as Tommy and Carol stare at him.

“Tommy gets through half his classes by paying other kids off for their homework and you’ve picked like three fights in the past week, Carol, don’t act like you’re some angel. Eddie’s just…” He shrugs, glancing away, across the cafeteria where Eddie is sitting with his legs up on the table even though he’s been scolded for it several times. “Eccentric. He’s harmless.”

“He’s a Satanist,” Tommy insists.

“I don’t think you know what Satanism is, Tommy.”

“I know what Satanism is—”

“Pass your history class by yourself and maybe I’ll give your word more credit, how ‘bout that?”

“Alright, asshole.”

Eddie graduates, and no one seems to see it coming except Steve, who goes to the ceremony. No one really questions it; underclassmen and juniors often go to graduations to support their friends, and Steve knows a few seniors this year. But then Steve is cheering louder than anyone when Edward Munson is called, and Eddie is beaming brighter than anyone’s ever seen, and as he crosses the stage he squints out into the crowd, smiling and smiling and smiling, and he waves. And it’s the most well-behaved he’s ever been, even as he begrudgingly shakes Principal Higgins’s hand and takes the diploma.

People stop talking about Steve and Eddie.

They still talk about Steve, of course, always the King. His parties, his hair. The shallow things. He doesn’t hang out as much with Tommy H and Carol anymore, but no one really knows why. Most people just assume Steve finally realized how shitty they are. And maybe he has.

Eddie doesn’t come up much anymore unless people are talking about where to get the best weed. People go to the mechanic that’s just outside town just to see him, to make deals while he’s on his lunch break or after he gets off work. (Which is funny just by itself: Eddie Munson with a job. Who would have thought?) But his reputation at school fades into someone that used to make shitty, loud jokes and talk shit about the popular crowd.

Until he shows up at Steve’s graduation. No one in Steve’s graduating class notices him until the end of the ceremony, when everyone is outside the theater the ceremony took place in, as everyone is taking pictures and laughing and smiling and celebrating, and Steve is just… waiting. He’s not talking to anyone, or taking pictures with anyone, and he and Tommy H seem to just ignore each other completely, but he doesn’t seem to be sulking or lonely. He’s leaning against the wall, holding his cap in his hands, eyes scanning the parking lot. Until a white van pulls up, a little close to the grass lawn outside the theater, and Eddie Munson steps out, his hair too long and loose and curly. He’s grinning as he looks around at everyone until his eyes catch on Steve, who’s beaming now.

And he’s running at him, and Eddie catches him in his arms, hugging him tightly as he spins him around, Steve’s graduation gown billowing in the air. Now people are looking, watching, seeing, some of the curious, some of them aghast, murmuring amongst themselves.

Is that… Eddie Munson?

Hugging Steve Harrington?

Are they friends?

Neither of them seems to notice everyone looking, laughing as they hug each other tightly, and when they part, Steve is beaming brightly at Eddie as Eddie touches his face, saying something quietly that no one can hear.

Steve nods excitedly, and Eddie takes his cap, bopping him on the head with it before they go to Eddie’s van. Steve strips the gown off, bunching it up in his hands and tossing it into the back as he climbs into the passenger seat. Eddie climbs into the driver’s seat and smacks Steve in the face with the cap, and Steve just laughs, glaring at him, snatching the cap and hitting him back before he tosses it in the back without looking. And they drive off.

Some people laugh because it’s so absurd. King Steve and the Freak. Most others just move on, too focussed on celebrating to care much.

That’s the last time anyone sees them or hears from them.

The Harringtons come back to Hawkins a few weeks later, and soon after, word spreads that Steve just left. Left Hawkins, left his parents, left his childhood home. He didn’t tell them where he went, just that he was safe. Not to worry. That he’ll be fine. He’ll be happy.

And slowly, across town, realization strikes each individual person that witnessed it happen: Steve and Eddie running away together. It explains the van, it explains the hug, the joy, the giddy excitement. And people talk about it.

King Steve and the Freak.

They ran away together.

And then

They skipped town.

They took off.

And then

They escaped.

Then the rumors aren’t as fun anymore. It’s not a fun bit of gossip or something to speculate about, but something to think about, to daydream about. What it would be like to leave Hawkins, to have no obligation to come back. That doesn’t happen in towns like this. People don’t just leave. People go to college. People come back. People get married to their high school sweetheart, and people have two and a half kids, and people get a dog or maybe a cat, and people stay here. That's what happens.

But Steve and Eddie left. That apparently wasn't the life for them. And it makes people wonder if it's the life for any of them. Some of them stay awake at night, looking up at their ceiling in the dark and wondering what's outside of Hawkins. What's in the big cities, what's in the seas. What isn't in the movies. Some of them look at the sky at night. Here in Hawkins, in the middle of nowhere, Indiana, every star glows brightly, like the universe is making up for the city lights they've never seen.

Some people are angry about it. How dare they leave? How dare they act like they’re better than Hawkins? Like this town isn’t enough for them?

Some don’t care. Hawkins is all they know. There’s no point in thinking about anything else, about dreaming about “escaping.”

And of course there are more rumors that spread alongside the runaway rumors. Why did they go together? Why did they hug like that? Why did Eddie touch his face like that? What are they doing?

And even as they all skirt around it, as they avoid certain words, because they would never want to taint the image of the King, they all know it.

They didn’t just run away together. They ran away together.

It angers some people even more. People who can’t think outside the limits of their own front lawn.

The rumors spread throughout town, just escaping the ears of Mr and Mrs Harrington (because nobody wants to anger them), through the high school to the middle school. King Steve and the Freak. They left together. And the rumors shift, mold like clay, altered by every mouth that touches them. They were holding hands. Eddie was touching his leg when they drove off. Steve kissed his cheek.

And the rumors find the ears of a young boy. A boy that sits alone in classes that his friends don’t share with him, fiddling with a pair of dice under his desk, hiding them so they don’t get confiscated, drawing in a notebook. A boy that tilts his head when he hears another boy’s voice say the words.

My brother said they ran away together.

Like… together, together?

I mean, he implied it. He said someone saw them holding hands.

What the fuck?

Followed by stifled laughter, because of course it’s the most absurd thing they’ve ever heard. But this boy, sitting in the back of the classroom, wearing his brother’s handed-down flannel and sketching his best friend’s eyes, looks out the window. At the sky.

The classroom he’s in is on the top floor of the main building, and he can see almost half of town from where he sits by the window. Just past town, there’s a road leading off into the world, and he wonders if that’s the road they took when they left. He wonders if the sun was setting when they left, if they followed it into the sky. He wonders if they held hands as they passed the LEAVING HAWKINS COME AGAIN SOON sign, if they kissed across the center console of the car. He wonders a lot of things.

He wonders if he could do it. Someday.

If he might leave the day he graduates, if he might get away from the children that call him fairy and fag, if he might escape the claustrophobic walls of the town, the square lawns and bullet-riddled tin cans, the brown and beige and grey. If he might get away from their voices. If he might escape too.

He sighs, listening to the boys’ laughter again. The sky is blue in between the grey clouds that are threatening rain over town. He follows the road with his eyes, follows it out of town, out of sight.

And he looks down at his desk, lifting a hand, and rolling the dice.

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#i loved writing this os much #i read the ending to my best friend over a voice note #im so #im fine #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #will byers #will byers fanfic

[fadingr222]

CAT SEBASTIAN PART 2

Author’s note: I’m bored in class and writing this. I might make a part 3 but idk my friend encouraged me to write this.

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“Merlin sake Sebastian will have you gotten yourself into?!” She read the newspaper having tea outside of the three Broomsticks. It was a evening ritual of hers. A cup of tea and the newspaper. Sharona grew the tea leaves herself and she swears by it.

As she sipped her tea she could hear a hiss in a ally. She stared into the direction and then looked quickly into the window at the inside of the building.

“Not my circus. Not my monkeys.” She repeated and took another sip. Then another hiss, this one sounded full of pain. She snapped her head and heard the sound of kids. Quickly she placed some gallons on the table and ran.

When she got to the alley she saw the sight of a poor brown cat. It was terrified as some kids threw rocks at it.

“Hey!” She ran and the kids left as fast as possible. She huffed and stopped turning to the cat. Poor thing must have been scared of humans now. “Your safe now hon.” She took her cloak off and wrapped it around the cat.

“You scared me kid, running off like that. What happened?”

“Some first years terrorizing this poor baby.” She looked at the cat back and forth to it and MC. Sharona convinced her to stop at the creature shop and adopt this poor animal. Help it get accustomed to human. Once MC was gone Sharona brought the cat into a private room. Placing it on the counter.

“I serve many in my establishment, don’t you think I know a Animagus when I see one? Might as well come out before I tell.” She huffed. Soon the cat shifted and Sebastian head was faced down in pain and shame.

“Please, I’ll turn myself in. Just let me be with her one last time Sharona.” He couldn’t bare to look at her.

“I watched you grow into a nice young man. You always came in here, brought smiles to my customers and me. Sebastian, I never saw you, but if I see you here ever again I won’t hesitate to bring you in.” With that the bell rung and Sebastian shifted back almost as instinct. When she gave him to her Sharona felt guilty but took a sigh and started to wipe down tables.

The cat meowed the whole time trying to shimmy into her scarf. The cold of night overbearing. Has she really spent most of her time in hogmead reading the daily profit?

“You know… I should really come up with a name for you… Ha the only thing that’s running around my mind these days seems to be Sebastian.” She smiled at him. “ you wouldn’t know him but he’s a really dangerous friend. I miss him so much.” She scratched the back of his ear.

“How about…I name you after him? It would have to be a secret, I’m sure if he somehow would find out and manage to tease me.” She walked into her dorm. Placed him down next to her bed and placed all his pet supplies next to her bed in the dorm.

As she undressed and got into her night wear she looked at the cat. It was turning away and she couldn’t help but smile. “Quite the gentleman huh? Maybe I should name you Ominis?” She giggled and pet the top of her cats name. The pet hissed at the name change.

“Okay..I guess Sebastian it is?” She set herself in bed. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Sebastian couldn’t help but hop on her bed and staring at her all night.

Examining the face he wanted to stare at so long. Her scar healed nicely, she did grow for sure. Her eyes weren’t filled with hope. She did cut her hair, or did she grow it out? He couldn’t tell. He tapped her face with his paw feeling her skin. In this form she thought he was cute, as himself there’s no doubt he would scare her.

He hopped of the bed and explored the room. The dorm decorated with different jars she most likely was going to fill with potions. A few pots of growing leaping mushrooms in a dark corner. On her desk was a pile of opened letters. He turned back to her then let his shape form when he saw she was still awake.

Each one of them where from him. Some of the nasty ones dropped in the waste bin. He was glad she threw them, and kept the sweeter ones. He then noticed something else. A quill that would write thoughts next to paper. He couldn’t help himself.

All of them filled with pleads and promises. All where ended with apologizing for not writing sooner. Some of them where filled with her adventures. She even wrote that once she graduated she would pled with the Ministry and get him his freedom.

Then there was the letters that reacted to the negative letters that he wrote. He felt so guilty. Looking at a paper filled completely with the words ‘I’m sorry’ it was to the point most of the paper was drenched in ink. The quill probably struggling with her overwhelming regret. He walked over to her and held her.

“I’m the one that’s sorry.” The next morning he was back into a cat walking around the place with a collar. MC loved that cat more then people. Ominis would also pet him and sneak him a meal from the great hall under the slytherin table. He was a true friend.

“His name is Sebastian?” Ominis felt the binary on the collar. MC nodded drinking pumpkin juice. “MC, why would you think that’s a good idea?! Don’t you think before you act?? He’s gone from Azkaban, murdered a woman, and your naming cats after him?!” Ominis felt annoyed at her.

“Sebastian hates other names.” She had pet his head. “Besides you miss him too. I can tell. Maybe Sebastian would be good for us.” She reached out for Ominis’ hand. The boy tensed at the touch.

“It doesn’t matter. We both need to get over it.” The cat purred and brushed up to him. Sebastian truly wanted Ominis to warm up to him. “Yet, maybe it would be alright.” He gave him a bit of meat. Sebastian meowing happily.

The three of them together again. What more could he ask for?

#harry potter hogwarts game #hogwarts headcanon #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy sebastian #ominis gaunt #sebastian #sebastian sallow #ominis #sebastian stan

[spongebobafettywap]

Also quick question, wasn't it Abyss and Kiwi Black he also had a strong link to?

correct, it was probably tied to how they each had a power set slightly similar to his like abyss' which is tied to space alteration.

(while i was looking this up to be sure i read that abyss just got killed which is... sad because apparently it was the only way to solve an issue as he still couldn't control his powers. even after being on an island with other mutants and scientists for 3 years. dude is just unlucky)

Also a male writer being unfamiliar with female biology is par for the course in Marvel comics LOL.

oh believe me i know. but this just took every single one of the standard bad i was used to and blew it out of the water. like the panel where destiny is having nightcrawler... this now exists.

i- i don't even know where to start. the proportions are off (how long are destiny's femurs), the perspective is off (the must-wear-a-tie-on-the-job medical 'professional' they had is too far away from her to be of any help or see anything).

for the 22 hours this went on, they let her keep her glasses even tho she's blind and thus wouldn't need them in the first place as they serve no purpose and might become a nuisance real quick... (like the whole process makes you sweat and builds pressure on your head/face so glasses can get pretty uncomfortable). also they'd fall off/ slip from her face especially due to the labor position she's in...

because destiny is nearly sitting down on her hands and knees, slightly hunched over (instead of arched up), in actual pants while doing all of that. it becomes more jarring to see because fake-pregnant mystique next to her is in a more-practical-for-the occasion nightgown even tho she's not gonna deliver any baby any time soon

quick side note on the time taken here for the delivery : each pregnancy is different and complications do arise but destiny already had kids before so it should have gone smoother than what this story implies in both process and positioning besides the doc or mystique could have better advised her on the latter. (the writer might have accidentally leaned on the ' azazel's children are harder to deliver ' route too due to his poor knowledge on anything and in that case that's yet another common factor between nightcrawler and azazel's biological children...)

overall when you combine this panel with any medical knowledge you might have,

it just looks like nightcrawler came out of the wrong orifice okay ?

and if he supposedly came out of the right one, the only possible outcome to this poor attempt at that specific labor position is a dead baby nightcrawler as he would suffocate between destiny's legs before drawing his first breath... on the account of those damn pants

does destiny actually want this kid or is she deliberately dwindling his chances of survival before he's even out fr

Well you know they will have all important Street Brawls as part of the next Marvel Crossover event I'm sure. Marvel: Secret Street Brawls.

mystique just casually organizes encounters between specific heroes and villains after making a poll of "who do you wanna see fight" and "which street needs more wrecking" online then she films everything and updates it to cash in on some good old advert money. that's it, that's how the whole event should be about

It's like everything you're telling me gives me more reasons to never go back to reading Marvel. I felt like my tastes in story telling really matured after I started watching shows like Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul and reading and Watching Jojo's bizarre adventure. Maybe there's a reason why the best stories function with a beginning and an end and don't go on endlessly with too many cooks stirring the pot.

Like seriously wasting Abyss for what? Some storyline no one cares about? You know its interesting how you'll be one of the few people to point that out about how stupid the drawing of female anatomy is. Of course a lot of people just really like the "appearing progressive" angle that Marvel loves to do so they can sell a headline instead of putting thought into it, much like how they did when they decided Bobby should just be gay in such a contrived way like having Jean mindread him and tell him he's gay. Like they couldn't just have him explore his own sexuality? With his own feelings on how his relationships went and what genders he likes? Side note I really hate whenever someone criticises a story thats made to appear progressive gets lumped in with reactionary bigots as if whenever you write something with the intention of progressive you are absolutely free from criticism its just so childish really.

Honestly yeah they do need to just have Marvel Street Brawl be a thing and then they could also try to be deep about it like they did with AvX and pretend like there's this massive moral dilemma situation "Should we destroy this Street or not? That's a big problem and we need to answer it in 50 issues"

#Maz answers

[donttellpeterparker]

| My Best Friend’s Wedding - P.P |

Summary: A wedding invitation from your best friend is the greatest news you've eve- no... no it wasn't and you were going to change that.

Requested: No

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warning(s)?: Angst, swearing, mutual pining, Friends-Lovers trope, Ex Peter!Reader (further warnings will be added...)

masterlist (x) requests (x)

(unfortunately I reached my limit on the responses so until I work out a way to setup the survey without response limits for free, taglist will be closed)

My Best Friend’s Wedding

''I'm getting married!''

You had no idea how those 3 little words would turn your world on it's axis. 3 such meaningful words yet not directed at you, of course never you. At the surface you were thrilled, ecstatic as you screamed happily into the phone at the news. Depp down, deep down a storm was brewing in the pits of your stomach to the point you were close to puking. You hiccuped to yourself, trying to quench the tornado inside which earned a worried response from him over the line. He had no idea the fear and crushing disappointment you were going through at this very moment, and if you could help it, he would never know.

''Oh Spidey... that's amazing news!'' It wasn't. Another gulp followed by a reoccurring hiccup. That glass of wine you left moments ago to answer the phone was tempting to be consumed in it's entirety, maybe a second bottle would be a nice chaser to the glass. However, as the ramblings of how he met his soon to be wife began, your mind became adrift.

It was an unconventional yet functional friendship between you and Peter. Both having met in high school during a recess break where Flash was pulling a prank on the brown eyed boy. You had moved in from Minnesota the fall just gone, only having made one friend in the short time of arrival, MJ. She quickly busied herself with showing you around, all her favourite spots which quickly became yours too. She was a quiet girl, no not shy, she was more than confident within herself to voice her opinions on matters that she seemed needed her input. A quality you soon grew to admire about her.

During the unfortunate incident during recess, she had left to grab you both some coffee from the local cafe which served the best caramel latte you've experienced in your life, which ultimately left you meeting Peter for the first time, at the hands on his nemesis. Peter's eyes were wide and fearful, mimicking a puppy who had just got told off by their owner for peeing on their bedspread.

''Watch it Peter, wouldn't want to have this pretty girl watch you piss yourself, loser!'' You scoffed internally at the short boy, wanting nothing more than to make his vision blurry but chose not to move. You had a perfect attendance score and no detentions, you weren't about to ruin that now. Once the 'Flash' guy had left followed by tweedle dee and tweedle dum you stepped towards the boy on the ground cautiously.

''Are you okay?'' The boy coughed a couple of times before slowly standing to his feet. He was busy looking down at the grass, adjusting his glasses that sat upon his freckled nose with a huff.

''I'm fine...'' He began to walk away, not once glancing up to meet your gaze. This time you huffed to yourself, watching how he quickly began jogging away before a shimmer in the sunlight caught your eye. You peaked towards the ground to see a glass jaw filled with some kind of... webbing? With measured steps, you slowly bent down to retrieve the object before calling out to the retreating boy.

''Hey, I think you dropped this!'' The boy haltered, slowly turning around to glance at the glass jar in your hands. Your eyes didn't fail to catch the shock evident on his face, though it quickly fled moments later. He paced back towards you, taking the jar softly from your hand and stuffing it into his backpack.

''You know... if you're trying to recreate a spider's web you're going about it the wrong way...'' His ears perked which cause him to finally look you in the eye. He had spent hours perfecting it, how in hell could you know about it? He had assumed you were new as for starters, he had never seen you before and two, no one ever interrupts Flash's midday's show, everyone knew that.

''H-how do you-... webbing? Why would I-i be trying to recreate that?'' First thing you learnt about Peter, he was a terrible liar.

And that dearest was only just the beginning to what would soon grown into an almost 10 year friendship. Going through all of high school together, along with MJ and Ned, graduating then drifting apart for college. You all tried to keep in contact with each other the first few months but soon it turned into yearly catch-ups, something you all swore would never happen. Ned had learnt about Peter's alter ego, soon followed by you then MJ a year later. Ned and MJ had an on again off again relationship all throughout college which drove you and Peter around the twist. One minute you'd all be organising to catch up over thanksgiving break, then they would be on the outs the third time that year, both claiming they couldn't stand to be in the same room as each other. We all knew that was a lie because only a few weeks later, they would be in each other's arms, proclaiming their love and how they were it for each other.

You supposed it was sweet and endearing, having someone for the rest of your life. But you knew better, that it didn't exist. There was no 'the one'. There wasn't someone who was going to be loyal to you forever, father your kids and bring home flowers spontaneously, kissing your cheek as you baked cookies for your children, laughter filling the warm kitchen air. Or going on vacations to Disneyland and watching your children graduate college together as you both were settling into the retirement lifestyle. There was simply here and now, and that was working.

Up until this very moment, this very phone call which happened at approximately 9:46pm on a Monday evening. Just 3 weeks shy of your 27th birthday. You had finished a long hard day editing the final touches on your project before closing your home computer, enjoying the working from home lifestyle due to the pandemic.

''Bunny... you're still there?'' Bunny. You hadn't heard him call you that in years. Given, the last time the both of you spoke was almost a year ago, a lot can change in 12 months apparently, like getting married. Throughout college you two were always the closest, MJ and Ned giving you crap on how you both were secretly dating but wouldn't become public because you didn't believe in the concept of a 'boyfriend' and Peter's alter ego as Spider-man which could place you in danger. Had you tried? Yes, only the once and it was with the very man that was currently warming and shattering your heart over the phone.

Through your third year of college you and Peter had tried dating, seeing if there anything more than a friendship and there was. Unfortunately, it only took a month for that to turn upside down. For lack of words, Peter had confessed he loved you and you grown scared, commitment wasn't something you grew up around, your own parents divorcing before you were 5 and making new families. You'd had soon learnt they both divorced again not too long ago, deciding to move back in with each other to save money so they could travel during their retirement. Every Christmas was awkward, especially the one just past, the first one altogether in over 20 years. You didn't want that, to marry someone you love only for it to be all over within a handful of years. Especially given the detriment it has on the kids involved... you were never placing your kids through that kind of pain.

''Y-yeah I'm here... sorry I just... -sniffle-... I couldn't be more happy for you Peter'' It wasn't a lie. You wanted the world for him, your younger self wanted to be that world but it just wasn't meant to be. Blonde hair and sun kissed skin flowed through your mind, knowing that was Peter's type not long after your breakup.

''You have no idea how much that means to me... I'm sorry it's been so long since our last call'' The sincerity flowed right through you.

''It's okay, we've both been pretty busy and given the travel restrictions, couldn't really see each other in person'' Thank god that has eased up so you could travel now, but that only came in place a couple of weeks ago. Peter was on the other side of the country, currently a second hand to the most brilliant scientist on the northern hemisphere. You knew he always wanted to venture out on his own though, incorporate science with his abilities to make something magical. However, life just didn't go that way.

''Well pack your bags, your plane leaves at 7am'' Your eyes widen. Plane?

''W-what? Peter... I have work I can't just... drop everything'' You could, you were always head with your work but still.

''Come on! it's my wedding, you have to be there... I don't know what I would o if you weren't here by my side...'' Wedding? Wait...

''When are you getting married?'' Ignoring the little skip of your heart at his previously whispered words.

''This Sunday...''

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A/N: Would you guys like a mini series on this concept? Yes, massively if not, entirely 'My best friend's wedding' film starring the amazing Julia Roberts! I was picturing Peter x reader and wanted to give it a little bit of a 21st century kiss! Let me know below or in my inbox lovelies! xx Until next time xx

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #imagine #peter parking imagine #tom holland #andrew garfield #spider-man #spider-man imagine #fluff #angst #donttellpeterparker #my best friends wedding #one shot

[goldentournesol]

Truth or Dare

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer is married with children and JJ confesses her love for him. Length: 2.7k A/N: this is technically a bonus chapter of The Receptionist and the Profiler but can definitely be read as a standalone. this is my take on the JJ confession, enjoy! don’t be shy, leave a comment or reblog! masterlist

Y/N furiously clicked her mouse in response to her computer screen lagging. She released an exasperated sigh and placed her head into her hands. She could practically feel the bags under her eyes increase in size and depth as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Raising two children and being the BAU’s liaison was proving to be extremely difficult, she couldn’t go out into the field or travel with the team as much. After what happened with Cat Adams, she had a hard time leaving Emelia and Adaline. Emily only requested her help as a liaison in the field when she absolutely needed it, anything else could be taken care of from Quantico. Her head pounded against her palms and her only reprieve from her incessant headache was closing her eyes. She must have dozed off in her office because the next thing she knew, she was waking up to a warm hand squeezing her shoulder.

She shot up in her seat, heart beating at an alarming rate until she was met with her husband’s eyes. Her shoulders instantly relaxed, “You’re back.” She said with relief, standing to wrap him in a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked into her shoulder, squeezing her tighter than usual.

She fought back a yawn and nodded, “Yeah, I’m just exhausted.” She pulled back and rested her hands on his face to inspect for injuries and found none on his face. A bandaged hand wrapped around one of her wrists and she gasped, “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s not that deep, just a little gash.” Spencer said dismissively, his thumb rubbing against her wrist. “Let’s go home.” She nodded and quickly packed her things, eager to see her two baby girls.

On her way out, she noticed JJ and Rossi speaking in hushed tones. She managed to wave at them as she and Spencer made their way to the elevator. Rossi waved back, JJ looked away. Y/N had thought nothing of it, perhaps this had been a hard case on her. At least they had Rossi’s wedding tomorrow to look forward to and unwind a little. The girls would be with a babysitter and Y/N was looking forward to dressing up and hopefully getting a little (a lot) wine drunk.

Spencer was silent the entire way home, which wasn’t uncommon, so again, Y/N had thought nothing of it. As soon as they made it through the door, Emelia and Adaline came running up to the door, squealing with glee. Each parent scooped up a baby girl and showered them with kisses until they switched. 

Here, with a beautiful healthy daughter in his arms, he could forget about all the confusion of JJ’s confession. Spencer usually dealt with these difficult things on his own and in his head. He hadn’t had time to process it fully to bring it to his wife. He would deal with it later, right now, all he wanted was to spend time with his three favorite girls. Y/N hadn’t noticed anything different in the way Spencer was acting around the girls, but each hug he gave her felt a little tighter. She appreciated it and was definitely not about to complain about receiving tighter hugs from her husband.

The suspicions began the next day at Rossi’s wedding. With the girls not serving as a distraction, Y/N began to see the signs of Spencer retreating into himself. She hadn’t heard all the details of the last case yet, but Emily will soon let her know.

Emily was in the middle of giving a speech when Y/N snuck a look at Spencer beside her. He was politely listening, but everything about his eyes let her know that he was elsewhere. She caught JJ’s eye across the room, it seems as though JJ was staring at her husband as well. Before Y/N could ask with her eyes, JJ had looked away once more, the aversion of her gaze hinting at shame. A sinking feeling resided in her chest. 

She leaned towards him, linking their arms together, her heart strings intertwining with his in some metaphysical sense. Her sudden affection made him turn to her and send her a small smile. He quieted down the question in her eyes with a tender kiss to her cheek, knowing for a fact that the woman across the room watched what happened, a silent declaration of what he chose, what he will always choose.

Before they knew it, the music began blaring with Luke, Matt, and Penelope stealing the show with their dance moves. Y/N couldn’t contain her laughter as she watched them all prance around. In true Garcia fashion, she approached her and pulled her up to begin dancing. Y/N looked back towards Spencer for help but he just laughed and encouraged her to dance. All too soon, the music morphed into a slow paced rhythm. Turning around to ask Spencer to dance, she found the seat to be empty. Eyes flitting to the bar, she found Spencer and JJ in the middle of a conversation. 

“Hey, you can dance with me!” Tara said, whisking Y/N away from the scene. Y/N sent her a small grateful smile, but her curiosity was heavy.

“Is JJ okay? Did something happen?” Y/N asked Tara as they slow danced together. Tara was visibly taken aback by the question, she thought Spencer would have told Y/N about what had happened by now, but she decided that it was not her story to tell.

“Yeah, JJ’s totally fine.” Tara said dismissively and began steering Y/N away from that conversation. They soon broke apart to gather around the cake. Y/N was only half paying attention until she saw JJ take her place next to Will and was alerted of Spencer’s presence as he placed his hands on her hips from behind. She leaned into his warmth and let it go for the final time that night, she would ask about it when they were alone. But by the time the night ended, JJ was not on Y/N’s list of important things to remember. She was a little bit past tipsy and Spencer practically had to drag her out to their car.

The weekend went by smoothly, Spencer had his head buried in mountains of papers from his students even though Y/N told him that he could read them online and save so much paper. The weekend had come and gone and they were back in the office in the blink of an eye. The awkwardness between the two lifelong friends resumed. JJ was arguably the closest person to Spencer on the team (besides Y/N of course), so she found it more than weird that the two were actively avoiding each other. 

Lunch time came around and Y/N had had enough of it, she snuck into Penelope’s office.

“Hey, sunshine!” Penelope greeted, taking a hefty bite out of her donut.

“Hey.” Y/N said, leaning against the desk adjacent to Penelope’s, stirring her coffee.

“What’s going on?” Penelope stared at her knowingly. Y/N immediately put the coffee down and stared at Penelope.

“Did something happen between JJ and Spence on the last case?” Y/N asked directly, deciding that beating around the bush would help no one.

Y/N didn’t miss the slight widening of Penelope’s eyes, “Wh-what? Why would you ask that?”

“They’ve been acting really awkward around each other and JJ’s been avoiding me like the plague.” Y/N huffed. 

Penelope panicked, stuttering out, “I uh, I really think you should talk to Spencer.”

“No one’s telling me anything! Not you, not Tara! Should I be worried?” She asked, exasperated.

“Honestly? No, I don’t think so. Spencer loves you.” Penelope said surely.

Spencer loves you.

What does that even mean?

Y/N turned on her heel, leaving her coffee and marched all the way to Spencer’s desk. The carpet drowned out the clickity clack of her heels. Spencer raised his head from his files to smile at her.

“My office, now.” Y/N said simply, her tone neither angry nor cool, his smile retreating as he followed her like a puppy. Matt and Luke shared a knowing look between them and pretended to focus on their work so as to not get caught in the line of fire.

She closed the door and the blinds, crossing her arms and turning to see him taking a seat, “Care to explain why Garica just felt the need to assure me that my husband loves me? Or to explain why you and JJ have been acting so weird and having secret conversations? Or maybe why she’s been acting like I don’t exist for the past 3 and a half days?”

For a moment, Spencer looked like a child who had been caught stealing cookies out of the cookie jar, then his face returned to an unnerving mask of calm. This mask made her panic even more.

“Does this have anything to do with the hostage situation you two were in?” Y/N asked, she had just gone over the report that morning, but it had little to no details.

Spencer took a deep breath and rested both hands on his thighs, in any other circumstance, Y/N might have been tempted to sit across his lap and kiss him until they were both red in the face. But not right now, right now she needed answers.

“Yes, well--okay, yes. Something did happen. I promise I was going to tell you, but it never seemed like the right time to bring it up, I didn’t want to bring it up at home around the girls, and I didn’t want to bring it up here either.” Spencer said, leaning back to rest against the chair.

“What happened?” Y/N took a seat across from him, no longer feeling the need to attack, but rather to understand.

“JJ and I were being held hostage. The unsub, Casey, was about to shoot JJ and me. He told her to reveal something that she’d never say aloud and she…” Spencer swallowed, trailing off. Y/N leaned forward, already expecting where this was going.

“She told me that she’s always loved me and that she was just too scared to say it before.” He spoke softly, meeting her eyes.

Y/N blinked slowly, “Bullshit.”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows at her.

“Are you sure she wasn’t just saying that in front of the unsub to get him to back down? Are you sure it was real?” Y/N said, standing up from her seat. She paced around her room, trying to piece together any evidence from the past few years that could back up that claim.

JJ had been the one to push Y/N and Spencer together. JJ couldn’t have had all these feelings for Spencer. What about Will? Henry? Michael? They were her and Spencer’s Godchildren for crying out loud. Y/N’s brain was going a hundred miles a minute. Spencer watched her pace around the small office.

“I, I don’t know. It seemed real.” Spencer wished what he had to say would calm his wife, but he really didn’t know at this point.

“Do you…” she swallowed, the question heavy on her tongue, “do you feel the same?” The tears were ready, resting at her waterline, waiting for the call. Her insecurities were ready to take over.

“No!” Spencer objected, standing from his seat. Normally, his defensive reply would have made her suspicious, but the look of utter shock and hurt on his face quelled any doubt that arose.

“No, I don’t. I love you. I have always loved you. God, you know this, I’ve loved you even when you weren’t mine to love. I’ve loved you since I was just a baby faced profiler and you were just a receptionist. I will never stop loving you and the girls, Y/N.” He said definitively, walking towards his wife and grabbing her clammy hands in his. He pressed a gentle kiss to each of her hands, staring into her teary eyes.

The cavern in her chest began to patch itself up as he looked at her that way. She had no choice but to believe him. 

“Okay, I believe you.” She smiled, a tear escaping. He reached up to tenderly swipe it away. With a simple tilt of his chin, he captured her lips in an intense, passionate kiss and like all of their kisses, he took her breath away. But something about the desperation in this kiss made it hard for her lungs to perceive air. He had a point to prove.

A few moments of silence passed between them and Y/N took a deep breath, “I should talk to JJ.” 

Spencer hadn’t pulled away yet, “It’s your choice, my love.” He placed a soft kiss to the center of her forehead and stepped back to catch her eye, “Are we okay?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at him, “Yes, we’re okay. Can you ask JJ to come in after you leave?”

With a nod and another kiss, he left the office to go summon JJ. Y/N took her seat at her desk and folded her hands in anticipation, the undeniable and unrelenting feelings of anger and jealousy coursing right underneath her skin.

A gentle knock sounded throughout the small office and Y/N invited her to take a seat before her.

“Listen, Y/N, if this is about what I said back--” JJ began, but Y/N wasn’t interested in any of the formalities.

“Did you mean it?” Y/N asked, making direct eye contact. JJ was taken aback at the similarities between Y/N’s question and Spencer’s. They had both asked in the same way. She wasn’t ready back then. But she is now.

“Yes..” JJ whispered, averting her gaze once more. The gaze of the wife of the man she thought she loved was too heavy to face straight on.

“Yes, what? Do you love my husband?” Y/N spoke with an unrecognizable sharp edge to her voice.

“Yes, I love him. I’ve always known it. Things just got too messy too quickly. I have Will and the boys and I would never ever give them up. Spence-- Spencer has you and the girls and I could never dream of taking him away from you.” JJ spoke clearly, her eyes reddening and glistening with unshed tears.

“You are the perfect wife, I watched him fall in love with you. You’re also the best mother to his children, it’s hard not to be jealous of you.” JJ continued. The sinking feeling returned to her chest.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, I’m just doing my best. You’re one of the greatest mothers I have ever known. I need you to tell me that this is where it ends, JJ. I cannot afford the stress.” Y/N replied.

“This is where it ends, I promise. It’s over. He has you and Emelia and Adaline and I have Will, Henry, and Michael. If we were ever meant to be, then it would have happened. He deserves you, after everything he’s been through. He deserves you.” She said tearfully, wiping away stray tears.

Y/N stood from her seat and walked around her desk to embrace her in a tight hug. JJ cried into her shoulder, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know. It’s okay, we’re okay.” Y/N rubbed her shoulder, pulling away.

“Are things going to be awkward now?” JJ chuckled, blowing her nose.

“Only if you keep avoiding me.” Y/N joked back, JJ promised she wouldn’t and excused herself to get back to work.

Y/N followed her out and stopped at her door. Leaning against her door frame, she caught her husband’s eye across the bullpen and sent him a smile and a nod.

It’ll be alright.

They’ll be alright.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid oneshot #the receptionist and the profiler #tratp #spencer reid imagine #jeid #jeid confession

[teyvattherapist]

Greetings! (´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`) Hope your day has been going well! Was wondering if I could send in a request? From the tea prompts- (hope this is correct) Could you maybe serve Dainsleif, Kaeya, Zhongli and Diluc some Earl Grey, matcha, English breakfast and hibiscus tea? Thku and I'm so sorry if this is abit long Isksnx

a/n: Not long at all! Thanks for the request!

Link to the tea prompts :)

tags: gn!readerxDainsleif, Kaeya, Zhongli, and Diluc, Khaenri'ah spoilers, Zhongli spoilers, Kaeya spoilers, Diluc spoilers, angst if you squint, mostly fluff, children.

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hibiscus tea; what’s their favourite place to take their s/o?

Kaeya

Answered here<3

Dainsleif

Dainsleif has been so many places and seen so many things that he doesn't really have one specific location. Everywhere has some sort of meaning for somebody like him. As a result though, he would thoroughly enjoy his partner's favourite place and the meaning it holds to them. Dainsleif always goes back to it, even on his own, but definitely with his partner.

Zhongli

Too many places. Zhongli is a bit of a history buff, so anywhere in Liyue with rich history, which is all of Liyue, is an ideal date location to bring his s/o. From the blue of Luhua Pool to the flower fields in Qingce Village to just a walk around the Harbour. Zhongli is more attached to the stories of these locations than the locations themselves. Has an attachment to Guili Plains and picnicking there though...

Diluc

His favourite place is back home to the Winery. Man hates being seen. Besides that obvious one though, he does quite enjoy spending time with his partner at the large tree at Windrise. Thankfully at night its quite quiet and always lit up by fireflies. He'll even catch some in a jar for his s/o. It's quite funny to see him try to chase them around.

earl grey tea; how did they court their s/o?

Kaeya

Flirty as ever is the Cavalry Captain as he lays the charm on thick for his person of interest. Though the moment they flirt back, wow he is flustered. That's how one knows its more genuine. He'll gift them small trinkets, ask them to go drinking with him, or even go out of his way to bring them places if the tavern isn't for them. Ultimately, pretty normal courting methods.

Dainsleif

He pulls out some weird ass dated Khaenri'ahn courting customs that I could not begin to describe. Gives them flowers that definitely aren't any flowers they could recognize. Fan of the back of the hand kiss. He's very bashful when courting somebody, he hasn't done this in a long time, and do people still 'court' anymore? Dainsleif doesn't really know. He is doing his best, please take this 4th bouquet this week.

Zhongli

Also pulls out the dated courting customs but these ones are Liyuen and at least somewhat recognizable. Has a 5% chance of remembering his mora for once when taking them out. Very polite, always shows up with a gift of some kind(usually homemade or flowers he's picked himself) If they have parents he is going to befriend them.

Diluc

As a noble, he knows how to court, he knows very well how to court. He simply does not have the time and he simply cannot be assed. Will ask them to dinner, will present them with a gift, will tell them he'd like to pursue a relationship halfway through dinner. The End. There is no courtship there is only Diluc asking them out over some grape juice.

matcha tea; how and when do they propose to their s/o?

Kaeya

Thinks about this for a very long time. All that ancient plot stuff and whatnot. Buys the ring and looks at it every day for at least a month. He knows he loves them, more than anything, hell they have his loyalty, wherever they put it, he will too. Remember those dates at Starfell Lake? The late night picnics? Its on one of those, under the light of the Anemo statue, surrounded by crystalflies does he pop the question. He doesn't do the whole dropping to his knees thing, he's already incredibly flustered and nervous. Kaeya wrote a whole speech.. He forgot halfway through. Help. Kaeya.exe has stopped functioning, he's so in love.

Dainsleif

Thinks about it for even longer than Kaeya. Jfc, Dainsleif if your lover is mortal they're going to die before you make a decision. Forges the ring himself once he finally decides to do it. Its quite pretty, has an engraving as well. Dainsleif was going to propose traditionally, dinner, drinks, flowers, on his knee with a speech. Easy. But that seemed... Unworthy of his partner. So instead he arranges a cute little scavenger hunt. Something fun. It does end with dinner, drinks, flowers, and him on his knee. Dainsleif even ditched the usual 'fit for a rented suit. He cleans up quite nicely and wow his face is.. red. Composure? Gone. Take this ring, please.

Zhongli

Childe bought the ring. Zhongli is a God living as a Mortal. He is still immortal. He still has a long long life ahead of him. And once an appropriate amount of time has passed, he's ready to move to the next step. Marriage has more than likely been discussed between him and his partner before he proposes. He makes a whole day of it! Sleeping in, breakfast and tea in bed, some shopping in the afternoon, dinner at the Pavilion, and as dinner wraps up and they wait for dessert, Zhongli will slide off of his seat and onto his knee. His speech is perfect, the ring fits perfectly, and dessert comes out right after. Its perfect.

Diluc

Thinks about it forever 3 electric boogaloo. Again, given his status, there's just so much attention involved and he doesn't like the attention. He'd love to marry his partner, and again its probably been discussed beforehand. Eventually, with some prodding from one annoying lovely brother, he gets the ring and starts planning how he wants to do it. Yeah, good try Diluc. Unfortunately he left the box on his bedside table for his partner to find! Stumbled over his words as he tried to explain, face getting redder with every passing second. He tried! He really did. He'll take them out to dinner later<3

english breakfast tea; would they want a family?

Kaeya

Mmm.. He'll get back to them on that one. He needs a LOT of therapy first. Like.. In the same vein as his adoptive father, he attracts a lot of kids looking for a figure to look up to. But would he adopt them?? If he were more mentally sound maybe. He simply doesn't know and thus won't risk it. He can step up when needed though, really.

Dainsleif

No. That's it. Just no.

Zhongli

Kind of conflicted about it, depending on his partner, there's just a lot of ways this can go with his whole divinity thing. Definitely lots of conversations about it. Consults his partner's opinion the most out of everyone here.

Diluc

Mm... He'll get back to them on that one 2 electric boogaloo. Realistically he's got a legacy to pass on, but does he care about it? No. Also daddy issues, he doesn't want to be like his dad and abandon his kid when they need him. So he's very conflicted. Eventually though, he would like a kid or two. It just takes a while to get there.

↳tags; @fadinganchornight

#Kaeya x reader #Zhongli x reader #Dainsleif x reader #Diluc x reader #Diluc #Kaeya #Zhongli #Dainsleif #Lane Writes #asks #anonymous #Tea prompts #Genshin impact #Genshin impact x reader

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch.7

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6

Cassandra gradually starts taking up more of your time. Or, more accurately, demands it like it’s her birthright.

Every day, you wake her up with a kiss to her shoulder or neck and a whisper of her name. She comes to you when she’s bored at random times during your shifts, to either talk –complain— about her sisters or to outright distract you. There are times at night when you’ll feel the chill of her slip into your bed and press up against your back, but she’s always gone by morning light, like a dream.

She used to be just another component to your nightmares. Now… she’s what takes them away.

And you’re afraid.

That you’re growing to like the time with her while she’s just playing around, that it will cut that much deeper when you find yourself on the end on her sickle. Because how else can it end, you reason, between the two of you?

The thought momentarily makes your liplock with Cassandra taste bitter, despite the sweet strawberry taste of her lip balm -and no way she’s putting that on for you, right?

She has you pressed deep into a plush armchair with her palm on your chest, while her thighs are locked tight on either side of yours. You want to tell her that you should stop –both because you’re literally in the open and anyone can walk in on you and because it’s late—but her lips are doing wicked things to your neck and you can’t find your voice long enough.

When Cassandra starts grinding down on you though, rather impatiently too, you have to speak up before she starts something neither of you can finish.

“Cassandra.” you say breathily. A sharp nip comes over your pulse, then slippery lips close around the area. “Ah! Cassandra. You’ll be late for dinner.”

She tsks and pulls back, expression much like a kid that got her hand slapped away from the cookie jar. She dismounts you with the same sour look, smoothing down her robes.

“Walk me there.” she orders.

You rise and fall into step beside her, trying not to linger on how strange it feels. It should be nothing, really, considering all the activities the two of you nightly indulge in, but it’s… something.

Cassandra, uncharacteristically quiet, keeps gazing out the windows as though calculating or pinpointing something while you make your way to the dining room.

She comes to a sudden halt just before you reach it, turns to you, steals a quick kiss and then quickly leaves you behind, a colder aura about her as she strolls inside.

You hear Lady Dimitrescu’s voice, but not what she says. Once a few minutes have passed and you can safely blend into the background, you join the other maids on standby within.

You used to hate it here. Having them all in front of you like that, serving them wine, when they’re all to blame for taking any semblance of normalcy out of your life. You never glance at what they’re eating. You still dislike dinner time.

But.

When Alcina makes a snide comment about Heisenberg and you hear Cassandra’s laugh above Daniela’s giggle and Bela’s chuckle…

It no longer seems so bad.

-

-

“Bela, stay a moment.” Cassandra says after Lady Dimitrescu leaves with Daniela in tow.

“Oh, no.” The blonde huffs under her hood.

“I didn’t say anything. Yet.” The younger sibling raises her hands in exasperation.

“When you go ‘Bela~’” You bite your lip to keep your expression neutral as you’re cleaning the table because hearing the normally stoic sister mimic Cassandra’s voice like that is just plain gold. “It’s never good.” her tone turns flat once more.

Cassandra very pointedly rolls her pretty eyes. “I need you to cover for me.”

“See?” Bela sighs. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, it wasn’t really a question, I was just trying to give you the illusion of choice.” Cassandra shrugs. “I’m going out tonight.”

“What?” Bela damn near hisses. “Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s fine it’s, like, thirteen degrees.”

“How is that fine?”

The elder sister’s gaze then flits to you. There is no other maid in the vicinity that can overhear them, but she’s clearly uncomfortable with you picking up the implications of their conversation.

You still don’t get it. You guessed their aversion to sunlight has to do with their mutations… but why would the cold be an issue?

The survivor in you wants to know more. To know if this is something that can be used to your advantage when the time and circumstances are right for a potential escape.

Another part of you… just plain worries.

“I know what I’m doing.” Cassandra says, stern.

“Then you’re doing it alone.” Bela turns to leave…

Except.

“Oh, well. Guess mother should know about that little maid you’ve been orbiting around, lately.” Cassandra comments. “The one you even did a favor for? Just imagine her disappointment in you, the shining example of the family, stooping so low.”

Bela’s back goes rod-straight. The piercing look she sends Cassandra sends ice down your spine. You think she’s going to pounce… yet she exhales.

“One. Hour.” Bela states. “If you’re not back in one hour I’m coming to drag your sorry behind to mother. And she—” A gloved finger points directly to you, “Won’t be coming back with you in one piece.”

Wait.

What?

-

-

You didn’t know Cassandra planned to take you with her. But she didn’t deny it when Bela pointed to you. After her sister left, all she said was: ‘Dress well.’

Which brings you to your current position, pacing by the entrance hall of the castle, in a warm coat and two layers of clothes underneath. You turn to look behind when you finally hear her steps descending the staircase.

And— you freeze.

Because Cassandra is not wearing her usual robes. She’s dressed in all black, yes, but the outfit is tight on her form, fitting every curve, hugging her wonderful legs like a second skin. She’s wearing knee-high boots instead of heels and her hooded, gothic overcoat reaches down to mid-thigh.

There’s not a single patch of her skin visible other than her face… and you can’t, for the life of you, explain why it’s that hot.

“You’re staring, plaything.” she chastises, yet doesn’t sound like she minds. Rather, she’s smirking.

“Uh—” you can’t really form words.

“We need to hurry, clock’s ticking.” she says as she jiggles the very key you’ve looked everywhere during work hours for. The key to freedom. To leaving the castle.

Cassandra double-checks her clothes before she opens the door. You file it as useful information for later as you hurry to catch up to her.

The path to the village –or what’s left of it— through the forest is… difficult. Mainly because Cassandra is entirely unbothered by any and all obstacles and moves like she’s on a walkway, leaving you to fight with every rock hidden in the snow.

You manage. Somehow.

Until a distant howl makes you jump and quite literally crash into her side.

Cassandra laughs. It’s a clear, beautiful sound in the dead of night. “My, my. Scared of a Lycan in my presence?”

“I thought it was just a regular wolf!” You whisper, mortified.

Yellow eyes blink at you. Then her gloved hand raises to yours, taking it in a secure grip. You didn’t realize you were shaking, yet the tremors quickly cease when she does that. It’s just your heart that still feels like it’s going to give out on you, but for an entirely different reason, now.

Cassandra safely leads you to the village. It looks more or less the same, except empty, void of life. You don’t linger on memories. You don’t.

“Show me your house.” she says.

You never thought you’d be tracing the steps of your front porch so soon. You only have to push the door for it to open. And the inside is just as you remembered. A quaint little house. It’s simply not… home, anymore.

Nothing is.

Maybe nothing ever was.

And the thought makes a thin, cracked wall inside you finally give. Cassandra is saying something a few paces behind you, but your vision has blurred, your eyes sting and hot, salty rivers roll past your lids.

“Are you listening to me?” she asks. “...Plaything?”

You can’t talk. If you do, you’ll sob and break to pieces on the floor like a pushed glass statue.

Cassandra’s grip is tight and demanding on your elbow when her fingers curl above it, but she turns you with gentleness you’d never think her capable of. You do not meet her eyes.

Her other hand comes up to your neck.

You can’t, you can’t—

“Alexia.”

Your eyes snap to hers when she says it, from the shock. You didn’t think she even knew your name. Cassandra shifts her weight from one leg to the other, then seems to decide on something and wipes the tears beading at your chin away with her thumb.

“Pack what you wish. We don’t have long.”

As you turn into your bedroom and open your wardrobe to pack a few clothes into a bag, just to feel a tad more yourself when you’re in your room in the castle, the sound of your name falling from her lips follows you.

Haunts you.

You have half a mind to get your mp3, phone and chargers before you return to her. Cassandra is holding whatever she wanted to get from the village in a box tucked between her arm and body.

“Come.” she orders. Her hand settles on your elbow again and practically drags you along.

You don’t talk on your way back to the castle.

From one of the many windows overlooking the front yard, you spot Bela’s eyes on the two of you until she retreats into the shadows. Rigidly, Cassandra enters and immediately goes by the large fireplace to warm up. You only then notice how much more fluid her movements get. Or rather, how sluggish she was during the trip.

You shut the door and turn the key and realize it’s much easier to handle your situation when you’re the one locking yourself inside.

You take off your coat and scarf, then make to head for your bedroom —according to your calculations you’ll only get 3 hours of sleep— until… you notice how cold Cassandra looks.

She’s one step away from hugging the flames. And you can still hear her call you by your name in your head.

Great. Another thing to keep me up at night. You think as you approach her.

Slowly, so as to not scare her, you slip your arms around her slim waist from behind. She’s like a block of ice in your embrace, at first. Her body thaws gradually, to the point she’s fully relaxed against you.

“Thank you for today.” the words don’t come easy –they’re like pulling teeth— but you manage to get them out clearly enough.

“You’ll thank me in very many ways, plaything.” she says. “Having your own belongings in the castle is not a privilege any maid gets. But.” her voice, although quiet, hardens the slightest amount. “If, despite my generosity, you harbor dreams of escape… I will turn them to nightmares.”

Your blood goes cold in your veins. You can only nod against her shoulder.

Cassandra turns in your arms to look at you.

“And if you ever try to leave me alone here… I will find you and kill you myself.”

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x oc #resident evil village #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #fanfiction #because i've read on spoilers of sadness and heartbreak and we all need something soft to take the pain away #cue our fav pillow princess being mega darling to her girl

[lee-scribbles-and-doodles]

S3 ep5

Current emotional status: FEAR

Cthulu Max has been on the rampage for a whole week!?

Ew, the narrator

Oh man, are they sending the airforce after him?

I really like Cthulu Max's design

Momma Bosco 💗

Oh hey, Norrington and Papierwaite are alive.

Superball are you saying you tried to send the Maimtrons up Max's--

Also he's acting president while Max is... deposed of.

Superball is only giving Sam until 6am :(

Featherly!

"Wandering around the moleman tunnels is no fun without Max."

"You got it all wrong, we're trying to help Max." "We will help him... to a generous serving of ass whooping."

"That is one rabbit who will be multiplied... into 2,000 smoldering pieces."

Carol ran off with Blustet

"I only want her to be happy, is all." Aw, Curt

Superball just admitted to having separation anxiety from Max

Ok Momma can't come but Papierwaite and Norringron can.

I like Norrington :)

GASP

Is it?

It is!

SYBIL!!!!

RETURN OF THE QUEEN

Oh, she is very pregnant

She was a wizard at one point?

She's gonna help!

Superball there's no such thing as acceptable losses

Abe has his body back

"Four score and seven tons of raw power"

HE CAN FLY NOW!?

Sybil, I love you, but why did you mod someone else's car???

Grandpa Stinky I love you

Oh, he just handed us the recipe for once.

Asdfff the spore maxes swarming Grandpa

They stole Grandpa's hotdogs

"We must feed the host! Piglets and sphinkters make us stronger!" "We regret nothing!"

Grandpa hasn't slept in three years

Sam just casually taking the last of Grandpa's corndogs

The spores are trying to get it

Lol Sam slapped them

Sal's alive!

He's hiding from Sam :(

Lol we can control Cthulu Max with Corndogs

Ew, the cornstarch got mixed in with the giant puddle 🤢 Looks gross

Love how Sybil completely ignores the Flaming Max head

Also the look of disappointment on the spore's face made me laugh

Fifth trimester???

The way the one Max spore by Grandpa's truck is bobbing in circles with his mouth open is making me laugh.

Sam showing concern for Sybil because she’s preggers 🥺

Her being pregnant with Abe's child implies that statues have working genital in this universe

She put a weiner scented airfreshener in the desoto

At least Sam and a Max spore seem to like that (of course they do)

"Sybil you're the best!" Hell yeah she is!

Sam's mind went to the color bar codes to prevent being traumatized by Sybil's oversharing

We drowned the desoto

Asdfgh Sam just botched slapped one of the spores for trying to say "that's none of your damn buisness."

Ew, Max's spine is pointing out

Oh hey, Satan and Jurgen

Why is Jurgen wearing his old fashioned clothes instead of his emo clothes?

Lol Sam snuck into frame to shout "Go Mets! New York rules!"

"--besides it's just a good and noble thing to do." "You're not familiar with my previous work, are you?"

"Sam, what happened to you to make you so cynical?" Gee, Jurgen, I wonder what could have possibly happened.

Oh so the water tower counts as vegetable oil because Momma did something to it

Pfft we can replace Satan's microphone with a corndog

Omg they jumped off the building to avoid Max

Oh, they're fine, and the oil is in the giant puddle.

I'm thankful to Featherly for giving us an egg but I'd have preferred not to watch him lay it. Granted it was just in a cartoon way but he still made weird noises

Also TRANS FEATHERLY 2021

"I desperately wanted to see that, sir. Ask him if he'll lay another one."

Oh hey, the Flaming Max heads helped heat up the giant desoto corndog

Since I'm playing this in 2021 the Maimtron's song references are super dated, which defeats Superball's efforts

Oooh! A unique opening sequence???

Oh this music is jazzy af

Sam really doesn't like the Max spores

Sam how do you already know what Max's insides look like???

"Even when he's not a collasal monster Max's food comas can last for weeks."

Ok we wake Max up with the coffee beans, right?

Yup!

The gi Max spore is so sad he doesn't get to come 😢

"But I'm a horrible monster!"

"I suppose Max's brain always looks like a living room?" "Well, Max is host to all kinds of weird parasites, and he likes to he a good host!" WHAT

No really, this brings up so many questions about lagomorphs. Are they some kind of Symbiote or something?

And a previous episode confirmed Max is amphibious

Max has tumors!!!

It shocked Sam!

"Eugh! Get away fake Max!" "Do you find my warmth... alarming, Sam?"

"What do nightmares taste like, anyway?" "Pepsi"

Max wants to be author 💗

He also writes fanfiction about Flint 🤣

I'd unironically read his books.

Tina Belcher voice: Friend fiction

Max has an experimental fusion jazz band???

"He just killed a great white shark--"

Max being completely unable to describe a woman is very gay of him. Good for him.

Max's brain teleported everyone to different parts of the body.

Found Sybil in the gym/legs

The brain is broadcasting Sam's thoughts???

Sam couldn't think of a joke for the medicine balls :(

"Wow Max is looking pretty buff. Would it be too weird if I asked him to turn around?"

Sam! Stop thinking bad things about Sybil's pregnancy she can hear you you putz!

She's upset with him now

"Can you believe this guy?" "I find the entire situation to be very contrived and misogynistic." Same spore Max, same.

Sam stop being so mean omg!

"I changed Sybil, I totally get the whole parenthood thing now." "Really now?" "Tax deductions."

In Max's inventory now

Y'know, I never really thought about it as a storage house

Hit The Road reference :3

Baby roach hatched in

"Pa..papa?" "Now I am little champion, now I am!"

Max has a Maximus shrine

Sam turned into a roomba!

Aw, he named it Sam Jr 🥺

We won Sybil back through his love of Sam Jr

Found the conjoined twins

Huh, Max lost as eye. Does that mean he has a glass one, or do lagomorphs have regenerative abilities?

Pfft we have to play twister to control his arma

The brain is messing with things again

Oh, we need a roach to operate the game because of radiation

Well, let's kidnap Sal

Oh, poor Girl Stinky. She's really going through it

Aw, Sal feels bad

Sal?

Honey, are alright?

He's dying???

He's not immune to irradiation!?

Oh no, he's gone

I'm so sad 😞

Gotta pick up Sam Jr. Before I control Max

They mad Max do a magical girl pose

Ugh the narrator is back

Wait, what?

He's Max's brain??? SUPEREGO???

WHAT

"I was always ignored" Yo if my super ego was as pretentious as you I 'd ignore it too 😤

He wants to kill himself and Max???

I know Max had a self loathing complex but holy shit

The super ego is perfectly fine with destroying half the east coast what a jerk

Just noticed Sam's tie is red. Had no idea about this while drawing PI!Sam lol

We have to help Max get his memories back to use the ASTRO projector

Skunkapes has three Sam clones imprisoned

Sam had canon ocd?

Gasp Gordon???

No, it's Sammun Mak

I love him, little child tyrant

Just make him a mobile brain in a jar and let Sam and Max adopt him

Why is Grandpa here?

He isn't talking like Stinky

Too polite

Sam sees it too

He's a space gorilla

They switched brains?

Found the cloning g chamber

Let's go to Momma's first

CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME

Superball is "wracked with guilt"

"Keep it together Superball. Sam will be able to save the day. He always does."

Ok, let's go to the cloning facility

I'm still thinking about poor Sal yo

FLIIIIIINT!

He's punching space apes!

Girl Stinky really playing up the evil Mistress role

The doggleganger has a bomb on him!!!

Wait so Girl really is a mermaid??? I thought that was just her aestetic

God I love Flint

Haha we tricked Skunkape with scooby doo villain tactics

Got the robot

Her water broke... and it was pennies

Max wants to save Sybil! 😭🥺💕

Super Ego is here

Oh now he wants to save Max

The only thing here are those records

Super Ego waved goodbye

Cthulu Max is cute when he cries

Wait What?

His head is on fire!

The maimtron hit him!

He waved goodbye... and teleported away.

He exploaded!!!!

He promised he'd take Sam with him and he didn't!!!!

AAAAAAH

I thought the dead Max thing was popular angst fanon fic thingy!

We're cloning Max?

It didn't work 😭😭😭😭😭

Superball ran off crying

Oh God the credits are just Sam walking sadly what the hell

He's not even stopping to fight any crime 😢

💔💔💔

God the way he's clinging to himself

What?

The elevator???

MAAAAX

he's back???

Past Max???

He blew his Sam up???

Wait hold on I'm glad they're together again but this doesn't fix anything

There's so much trauma from this season

All the horrible things that happened during 301-304 happened in like 3 days tops, then Sam had to deal with Max being a monster for a week before watching him die!

And the new (?) Max had BLOW HIS SAM UP!!!

And they left the franchise like that for a decade????

What the hell?

I want to be happy but this shit is going to consume my brain for the next week at least what the hell

Aaaaaaah!

Like maybe they really do just brush it off but it feels unlikely

I know Max has a connection with his other selves so it'll be easier for him to adjust but certainly Sam is going to notice the discrepancies since he doesn't get the same deal

Someone told me there were multiple endings hold on

Aw, they walked off into the sunrise together

But still

AAAAAAAAH

#sam and max #freelance husbands #sam and max freelance police #sam & max #sam & max freelance police #freelance police #lee plays sam and max #305 #what the hell #flint paper #agent superball #momma bosco #sybil pandemik #sal s&m #general skun ka'pe #girl stinky #sammun mak #don't @ me I'm crying

[thepapergirlandthespiegelman]

Castlevania Season 4: I’m not mad, just disappointed

Season 4 is poorly written fanfiction, which is...better than a lot of things could be, I guess.

Spoilers below the cut.

Content warning: trauma, sexual assault, psychological manipulation

The Gods Have Had a Change of Heart

Or, “Season 3 Blocked and Ignored”

Season 3 felt like the fabric of the universe had been twisted just to inflict additional pain. Season 4 overcompensates in the other direction; trauma evaporates, and good things happen for no other reason than to make our favorite characters happy.

The Season 3 finale left two characters in particular totally devastated: Alucard and Hector. Alucard is violently betrayed in a horrifying sexual assault by the first two people he’s spoken to since Trevor and Sypha left. He ends up killing them in self-defense and puts their bodies on stakes outside the castle, alluding to his father’s habit of doing so and potentially hinting at a turn toward evil. Hector is seduced by Lenore and then enslaved using a magic ring.

Yet at the start of Season 4, it’s as if these things never happened. Alucard is troubled, but not totally devastated, certainly not evil. Taka and Sumi are referenced in exactly one conversation with new character, Greta, in which she says the rather tactless throwaway line, “I had a boyfriend and girlfriend at the same time once. But they never tried to kill me.” Hector is nominally imprisoned, but immediately seems highly agentic, perhaps even more so than before. He studies, lays traps, and makes secret plans with other people. Furthermore, his relationship with Lenore is completely transformed. From falling to his knees in abject horror and despair at being enslaved, he suddenly switches to light banter, in what is apparently a basically okay, mutually enjoyed romantic/sexual relationship. Manipulative, selfish Lenore is now a sympathetic character struggling to reconcile her own role and feelings with Carmilla’s plans.

The events of season 3 happened, remaining canon in the most basic, literal sense. But the emotional weight attached to them has disappeared into thin air.

Not gonna lie, I did breathe a sigh of relief when I saw that Alucard and Hector were okay. I’m soft-hearted! I don’t like seeing characters I like suffer! I mean, conflict is important, and I can deal with (or even enjoy in a certain sense) seeing characters suffer if it makes sense and serves a narrative purpose. But as far as I can tell, the season 3 finale was nothing more than lurid, meaningless violence. I probably wouldn’t have continued watching the show if it devolved into nothing more than finding novel ways to torture the characters.

Still, it doesn’t feel quite right to pretend like nothing happened either. Or, really, not that nothing happened, but that those things didn’t matter, didn’t hurt, didn’t leave lasting scars. That’s...almost kind of worse.

But, I thought, I can sort of forgive this sudden shift in the stars, given that there may have been some sort of change in creative direction relating to Ellis’ decreased involvement with the show.* Plus, season 3 was insanity. It’s not like it was full of great writing choices, so if we quietly ignore some of them, maybe that’s for the best.

*I only later learned that Netflix actually chose to continue with Ellis’ season 4 scripts. It is not lost on me that maybe Ellis doesn’t know how to write about the lasting effects of traumatic sexual experiences or how power dynamics can make a sexual relationship problematic because he doesn’t understand that those things exist.

Characters Being Nobody and Nothing Happening

Pretty Pictures, Not Much Else

Unfortunately, the disconnect between seasons 3 and 4 isn’t the only problem with this season. Although I felt that season 4 was a bit less boring than season 3 (I particularly enjoyed some of the earlier episodes of season 4), it suffers from the same basic problems of Characters Being Nobody and Nothing Happening.

None of the characters experience any significant development, let alone any sort of coherent arc. Sypha has changed slightly, becoming more rough and jaded. I did really like the scene where she talks about becoming the kind of person who says “shit.” I think it really speaks to how entering into a relationship with someone means taking on aspects of their lifestyle, and how that can change you in ways that you can’t predict and therefore can’t exactly “agree” to. Sometimes those changes are good, sometimes they’re bad, sometimes they’re neutral, and sometimes it’s difficult to know. But you have to accept that you’re sacrificing some aspects of the person that you could have been if you chose to live completely independently, or with someone else.

Trevor really hasn’t changed since season 1 when he first decided to take up the mantle of hero again. Likewise with Alucard. Hector and Lenore change, as previously noted, but that change is sudden, jarring, and occurs completely off screen in between seasons 3 and 4. Carmilla dies as exactly as she lived: bitter, angry, and violent. Saint Germain just kind of...gets fucked over in a nonsensical subplot, which is its own whole can of worms.

We also get several new characters in season 4, none of whom have developed personalities or motives, nor do they develop any of those things over the course of the season: Greta, Zamfir, Varney, Ratko.

And nobody. Does. Anything.

Trevor and Sypha spend the entire season trying to explore and aid Targoviste, which comes to absolutely nothing. They’re unable to help anyone, Zamfir dies, and they end up just jumping through a magic portal to the actually relevant subplot in the finale. Carmilla literally does little more than draw maps until she’s ultimately killed. Hector plays a minor role in Saint Germain’s extraction of Dracula from Hell; otherwise, he and Lenore basically just exchange banter. Saint Germain does sort of do some stuff? But it’s often unclear how he’s made his connections, who the people who are helping him are, or what exactly he’s doing in terms of his magic beyond “whatever it takes to get back to his lover.”

Sure, there are fight scenes, but they feel meaningless. There’s no context, no stakes. There’s also a LOT of dialogue, and it is. Not well written. Exposition is embarrassingly clumsy at times, and the philosophical musings are cliche at best, muddled and confusing at worst. There’s just not all that much going on.

That is, except for Isaac. But more on him in a second.

What Kind of Show Is This?

When the plot line adapted from Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse ended with season 2, the show struggled to establish a new identity.

Despite nominally dealing with themes like whether humanity is inherently good or evil and how to cope with wrongdoing and loss, seasons 1 and 2 ultimately boiled down to a pretty generic action-adventure/fantasy plot with found family/power of friendship elements. Main characters Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard don’t really wrestle with big philosophical questions or suffer any major defeats. They know that they have to take down Dracula for the good of the world, and they work together as a team to do it, with a little character development relating to their various backstories sprinkled in.

Then season 3 happened, and things got weird. The trio is broken up for what feels like a pretty trivial reason—Alucard has to protect the castle and Belmont hold, I guess? And the result of that decision is that the dynamics for the three main characters are completely unbalanced.

Ellis openly admits that he basically went feral with the writing of season 3, and it shows. The messaging in seasons 1 and 2 was cliche, but consistent. The message of season 3? Anyone’s guess.

Season 4 reversed the darkening of tone from season 3, but shares its inability to pick a story and tell it.

Isaac is the Main Character

Always has been.

While I can’t say that his character or arc are perfect, I can say that he actually has a character and an arc. He starts off motivated by his fierce loyalty to Dracula, then has to struggle to find his purpose once Dracula is gone. He goes from subservient to agentic. He goes from fully endorsing the genocide of humanity and not caring about his own life to seeing some worth in humans and genuinely wanting to live. He has an interesting moment that deepens our understanding of what night creatures are, while also serving as an exploration of the meaning of one’s fundamental nature. Most importantly, these changes happen naturally over the course of the show. They never feel forced or out of the blue, and while I feel like even more could have been done with Isaac’s character, there’s a lot to appreciate about what is there.

If there’s any thread holding Castlevania as a single, coherent work together, it’s Isaac. Not only is his character the best executed and the most coherent over the course of the show, his character explores themes that are larger than himself and relevant to the show as a whole, like those mentioned earlier: misanthropy versus a belief in the value of humanity; the ability to go beyond one’s “nature” or initial circumstances; and how to respond to being wronged or losing something important to you. Exploring the individual lives of characters is great, but really good writing usually requires going beyond that to reflect on broader questions and ideas. Isaac is the only character here that serves that larger purpose.

Sorry...I Just Don’t Buy It

The season 4 finale is crazy, although in a different way from season 3′s.

Varney being Death makes no sense on several different levels. I’m not going to spend a lot of time picking that particular plot twist apart, but I will talk about why I think it doesn’t work at the largest scale, and how I think season 4 might have been done better.

Last minute twists with zero foreshadowing are rarely a good idea, and this is no exception. Why introduce this “Death” entity at the last minute to be the most important battle of the season? The finale of the entire show, even? Besides the lack of logic or emotional buildup, this robs the show of the opportunity to make use of the antagonists that it already has. Since Dracula died, Carmilla has been the obvious choice for a new big bad. Why hasn’t she done more?

Season 4 feels crowded with characters and plot lines that amount to nothing. Why not bring some of these characters together? If Carmilla is the main antagonist, how come she never meets any of the protagonists (except Hector, who is a pretty minor player in this ecosystem) or even affects them in any way?

Season 4 feels like maybe it was trying to make something out of season 3 and the model that it presented, but it ultimately fails to do so. The writers throw the trio back together at the end anyway, so why not have them rejoin sooner and work together? Maybe Sypha and Trevor’s past experience with Saint Germain could have helped Alucard and Greta piece together what he was plotting sooner, rather than all four of them being completely blindsided by it in the penultimate episode. (Sypha and Trevor know that someone is trying to resurrect Dracula, but they fail to find out any actual detail about the plans, despite their supposed attempts.) Have characters actually do stuff, figure stuff out, advance the plot!

Likewise, maybe Carmilla becomes aware of Saint Germain’s scheming, sees it as a threat, and tries to take him down. Maybe she tries to get involved and somehow use alchemy or the Infinite Corridor to her own benefit. What does it look like when power-hungry Carmilla, who wants to rule the world, finds out there’s an entire multiverse out there? That could easily set her up to be a foil to Saint Germain, causing him to realize that what he’s doing is wrong.

What actually ended up happening in the show feels disjointed and often empty. In particular, most of the events that happen in the last two episodes just don’t really work for me. I didn’t like Trevor suddenly sacrificing himself to this random, new, super powerful enemy, or how the gems and dagger that he found just happened to be the perfect weapon to kill this new enemy, or how he inexplicably returns from the dead.

This kind of thing is what I mean when I say that this season feels like fanfiction. Trevor comes back from the dead for no discernible reason other than that it would really suck if he died. Greta as a character seems to literally only exist to be Alucard’s girlfriend and support him so that he doesn’t have to continue to be alone and potentially turn evil. Alucard’s trauma from Taka and Sumi and Hector’s trauma from Lenore are both conveniently erased. Even Dracula and Lisa are resurrected somehow and get their happy ending. And it’s like, I guess I prefer deus ex machina to the opposite (Does that have a name? When everything is going well but then something terrible happens for no reason other than to make things worse for the characters?), but they’re both bad writing.

God. This isn’t even getting into what happened with the Council of Sisters. And I don’t even really like those characters, but that doesn’t mean I want to see their characters handled poorly.

I’m not sorry that I watched until the end, but I can’t in good faith recommend the show as a whole. If you’ve yet to watch Castlevania, just stop at the end of season 2. While there are some shining moments in seasons 3 and 4 (4 more than 3), it’s just really not worth it.

#review #thoughts #television #animation #adult animation #video game adaptation #fantasy #Netflix #Netflix Original #Castlevania #storytelling #writing #characters #plot #character development #vampires #Isaac (Castlevania)

[flourgirl]

Heart Skips a Beat

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You work at a coffee shop on campus and develop a crush on the cute astrophysics major who studies there everyday.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Pure fluff. One curse word.

A/N: There WILL be a sequel to Even If It’s a Lie! Until then, here’s a little something to hold you guys over :-)

“I saw you on a Sunday in a café And all you did was look my way And my heart started to race And my hands started to shake” -Nervous, Shawn Mendes

3 p.m. had quickly become your favorite time of the day. Sure, you had already been working for half of your shift by then, but it was worth it. Because despite how tired you were from a full day of lectures, like clockwork, the cutest guy you had ever seen walked into the café to order a caramel latte and do his homework. 

You were a hopeless romantic. A homeschooled bookworm whose only experiences with romance were through the many YA novels you had read growing up. College was honestly your first experience with independence and having a social life outside of your mom, your cat, and your elderly neighbors, Brenda and Pat.

The first day he had come was at the beginning of the semester. You had just started working there to help cut the costs of tuition that your scholarships couldn’t cover. Even though you barely knew how to use the machines at that point, and it took you almost 20 minutes and one phone call to your shift manager to give him his order, he was still really nice to you about it.

By the end of the first week that he started hanging out here, you had memorized his order. For a stranger, there was a lot to like about him. He was super sweet and always dropped his spare change in the tip jar, a rare occurrence amongst struggling college students. He always greeted you by your name, which he only knew because of the tag on your uniform, but you didn’t care. You liked hearing him say it either way.

The more you learned about him, the bigger your crush grew. His name was Peter. Peter Parker, which matched him perfectly. He was an astrophysics major, and he was always busy. So what was he doing hanging out in the café where you worked? Sure, homework, but you had always preferred to go somewhere more quiet, like the library. Not some noisy little coffee shop in the middle of campus where everybody hung out after class.

In between making coffee orders for other customers, you would oftentimes steal glances at him. You thought about how soft his messy brown hair would feel between your fingers, or what it would be like to smell his fabric softener from closer than the width of the countertop that always separated the two of you.

But it was just a silly crush. When you thought about it, the two of you were virtually strangers. He had an entire life outside of the walls of the coffee shop, and he probably didn’t think about you other than when you were taking his order every day. Still, just when you thought about how weird it was to think about somebody you barely knew this much, Peter found ways to make you like him even more than you already did.

Every now and then, Peter wouldn’t show up, and you worried that maybe he had found another place to get coffee or came at another time because he didn’t want to see you anymore. You knew you were overthinking. There was no way that Peter was planning his entire schedule around you. You were just the coffee girl to him and nothing more.

Little did you know that on your days off, Peter was disappointed to find that someone else would be making his coffee that day. Sure, he started coming here to study because it was conveniently located across the street from the laboratory that he interned at, but it was more than that. He came to see you. To see your smile and the way your eyes lit up whenever he walked in. The way you still managed to look cute in the unflattering café uniform and how you didn’t even have to ask what his order was.

He had the biggest crush on you. The five minutes that he spent talking to you each day made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and he took comfort in the fact that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way about him. But he didn't know what to say to you past small talk. He told Ned and MJ that he had been planning to ask you out for a while now, but every time he walked up to the register, he chickened out. You made him too nervous, and he knew that if he tried too hard, he’d start rambling about string theory or something and scare you away. 

Peter thought about what kind of person you were outside of these four walls. Were you dating anybody? What was your favorite subject? Did you like pineapple on your pizza? He wondered if you even noticed that he was gone every time his “internship” at Stark Industries dragged him away for days at a time. Probably not. He thought about what it would be like to walk you to wherever you went after your shift ended, to make sure you got there safely, but he always had to rush off to somewhere else before you had finished working.

You had started experimenting with leaving little designs on top of his coffee instead of just haphazardly pouring the milk in. At first, they were just sad little blobs, but then you graduated to vaguely leaf-like blobs, and you could now make something that was shaped like a turnip on top of his lattes. You had been working up the courage to leave little hearts, but every time you did, you swirled them away and served it to him without any design at all.

Your friends would lovingly describe you as a klutz. You were constantly tripping over nothing or knocking things over. There was even that one time you almost broke your leg trying to climb one of the supermarket shelves to reach your favorite brand of maple syrup. But out of all of your clumsy mishaps, none of them lived up to what had just happened.

You had sworn you had looked both ways before crossing the street. But when the barrage of car horns and tires screeching interrupted your favorite song, you saw your life flash before your eyes. That was, until, you were flying through the air. Looking at your savior, you were both starstruck and shocked to see Spiderman holding you tightly as he swung from building to building.

It felt like forever before your feet touched the ground and he let go of your waist, but when he did, you were a little disappointed. How did he even know to drop you off at this specific coffee shop? It was insane, but you felt like you knew him. You just couldn’t place why or how before he saluted you and swung away without a word. “Thank you!” you screamed into the sky, knowing he definitely couldn’t hear you over the hustle and bustle of the city.

Peter’s heart was about to burst out of his chest. That was way too close of a call. What if you found out that it was him? What would you think? But he knew that if he hadn’t saved you, he would never forgive himself. Sure, you might get free tuition like that rumor people always talked about in middle school, but you’d also have a ton of hospital bills to pay because Spiderman was a selfish idiot and let you get hit by a taxi.

Your head was still spinning from what had just happened. You quickly changed into your uniform and started your shift, giddy with excitement to tell Peter who you had met today. As 3 p.m. came and went and there were no signs of Peter, you started to accept that the only person you’d get to tell about today was your mom. Go figure, you thought. You finally had something interesting to say to him and he doesn’t show up.

Eventually, after many disappointing coffee orders later, it was time for you to go home and curl up to a cup of tea and watch the latest episode of the Great British Bake-Off. It was ironic, but your favorite contestant this season was Peter, and every week was more and more tense as you worried whether or not he’d make it to the next episode. Sure, he was really good at technicals, but sometimes the flavors of his signature bakes were off. And when was stupid Laura going to get eliminated?

You were so caught up in worrying about who would be going to the finals that you didn’t even notice the guy walking through the doors just as you were leaving the café, knocking you onto the ground. 

“OW!” you squeaked as you hit the tiled floor that your co-worker had just finished mopping.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” a familiar voice apologized from above you. You squinted up to see Peter’s brown eyes full of worry, and at that point, you couldn’t even tell that you were hurt anymore. 

He held out his hand for you to take and pulled you up as if you weighed nothing. Still a bit dizzy, you stumbled, and he wrapped his hand around your waist to keep you from falling again. That same familiar feeling you felt earlier that day was rushing back to you. 

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ve got you, Y/N,” he assured you, walking you over to a table to sit down. 

You laid your head down on the table, both embarrassed and woozy from having your crush knock you flat on your face because you were too busy thinking about a televised baking competition to watch where you were going.

“You know we’re closed, right,” you groaned, lifting your head to see him staring attentively at you.

“Yeah, I know,” he answered, laughing nervously and running his hands through his hair. You wished that you were the one doing that instead.

“Oh. Well, you can if you really want to,” he said, leaving you confused as to what on earth he was talking about. It wasn’t until a few moments later that you were ready to curl up into a ball and hide forever. Did you say that you wanted to touch his hair OUT LOUD? TO HIS FACE?

Your cheeks turned crimson and you buried your face in your arms again. “Peter, I’m okay. You can go now.” If he didn’t leave now, you’d probably die of embarrassment right in front of him.

“Y/N,” he started, running his thumb across your arm. “I don’t want to go. I… I came here to see you.”

Your head shot up and you stared at him in disbelief. “You know I’m not the only one here who knows how to make a caramel latte, right?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed, nodding his head with a soft smile. Even in the dim lighting of the café at night, his eyes sparkled. “I hope this is okay for me to say, but… Y/N. I like you. I like you a lot, and I don’t even like caramel lattes but by the time I realized that I would never get used to the taste, you were already making them without me even having to ask you to.”

“Oh,” you replied, instantly feeling good as new. “I, uh...I like you too.”

You watched as the smile that never failed to brighten your day returned to Peter’s face. “So... Do you—would you, maybe, like to go out with me sometime?”

“Yes!” you replied enthusiastically. Checking your phone, you realized just how long you two had been sitting down. “But we should probably go. The doors were supposed to be locked thirty minutes ago.”

You grabbed his hand, pulling him out the front doors of the coffee shop before scrambling to lock them. When you turned around, you were standing face to face with the guy you’d been crushing on for months. 

Right before Peter could lean in to kiss you, you remembered what you had been dying to tell him about all day. “I almost forgot. I met Spiderman today!”

Peter’s eyes widened. He had hoped you wouldn’t bring it up, but then again, he probably shouldn’t have come here in the hopes of seeing you tonight. Play it cool, Parker, he thought as the two of you walked towards the subway station.

“Oh. That’s really cool,” he said in a tone that was suspiciously underwhelmed. “How’d that happen?”

“Well, I was on the way to work and I guess I was listening to my music a little bit too loud,” you started. “And suddenly I hear all these cars honking at me and WHOOSH! I’m in Spiderman’s arms and he drops me off right in front of the coffee shop. I mean, how did he even know that that’s where I was supposed to be? It was incredible!”

Peter really liked listening to you talk. He liked the softness of your voice and how excited you sounded whenever you spoke to him. “Huh. Are you sure you have a crush on me and not on our friendly neighborhood Spiderboy?”

“Spiderman,” you corrected, intertwining your fingers with his. “And no. I like you and only you.”

Peter laughed, thinking about how mad you’d be when he finally let you in on his little secret. But for now, there was no Spiderman. It was just you and him, and that’s how he liked it.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #mcu

[manikas-whims]

Turmeric Milk

A sequel to my other Kanej fic Holi

[Read on AO3]

Ship: Kaz Brekker X Inej Ghafa

Summary:

Modern AU

Kaz had told his neighbour Inej that he'd call up his doctor friend to get his wounds treated but she stills decides to check up on him.

And with a weird drink at that..

Note:

I've decided to turn this Modern AU into a series.

Hope you enjoy this one as well ♥

Kaz rouses from his slumber due to the noise of the cellphone buzzing and sits up, accidentally hurting the wound on his chest. He represses a hiss and looks around, finding himself on his living room’s couch. The wall clock that his eyes land on, make him realize its past seven at night. Great, sleeping at odd hours. Pushing off the duvet, he scrambles to his feet, a jolt of ache shooting through his bad leg. Immediately, he seeks purchase in the arm of the couch, taking deep breaths to help himself endure the ache.

His phone buzzes again and he picks it up in annoyance. ‘W. Van Eck’, the screen reads and Kaz sighs, receiving the call.

“What happened?” He grunts out.

He can hear a loud huff from the other end. “You know Kaz, those shouldn't be your words to initiate a phone conversation.”

He rubs his eyes, trying to bite back the string of colorful words at the tip of his cursed tongue. “What do you want, Wylan?”

There’s a long pause. “Jes and I wanted to check up on you.”

“I’m doing quite alright.” He grits out as calmly as possible.

“Listen Kaz, if you need–”

“I’m not a child Wylan. I can take care of myself.” Kaz reminds him. He likes his crew because they do their jobs perfectly well but thats all he expects of them. His health and personal lifestyle is none of their concern.

“..kay, I understand. Rest well.” Wylan mumbles and disconnects the call.

With that, Kaz tosses his cellphone to the couch and limps towards his bedroom. Its about time he takes a much needed bath and orders his dinner.

By the time he’s done, he changes into another pair of trousers and lets his towel dangle around his neck. There's several drawers in the side rail of his bed. He crouches down to open the middle one and rummages out a first aid kit from within.

Grabbing his cane from the mattress, he walks out to the living room. Immediately his eyes take note of the duvet falling off his couch and the half-filled bottle of brandy but he chooses to ignore them. He’s not in the mood for tidying up. He simply picks up his cellphone and places an order for hutspot from the Kooperom, a diner nearby. It should take around twenty minutes to arrive and as such, he decides to address his injuries.

He sits heavily onto the couch, placing his cane in his lap and pulls out a roll of gauze and a flask of liquid disinfectant. Dousing a cotton pad in the disinfectant, he starts swiping the cut that trails diagonally from the right side of his chest down to his navel, just like he'd done earlier in the morning. That punch to his face had blinded him for a moment and another Razorgull took advantage of that. The teeth of that man’s knife tore so callously through his skin that Kaz winces several times during the whole cleansing. Finally as his hand reaches for the gauze roll, the dinging sound of the doorbell interrupts him.

The food delivery guy can’t make it this quick. A single father and his son run the whole diner by themselves. The thought makes Kaz gaze uncertainly at the door.

The bell rings again and this time Kaz stands up with his cane. He takes slow steps, snaking out a revolver from behind a painting next to the door and then turns the knob.

“Ohh God!” a feminine voice shrieks, making Kaz flinch.

His deep, coffee irises clash with a pair of dark brown ones and he scowls. Its none other than his next-door neighbour— Inej Ghafa. She’s forgone her shimmering traditional garbs and is sporting a set of faded blue silk pajamas. Her long, flowing hair has been pulled together in a single braid. And she has a small jar full of something yellow in her hands.

“The hell!?” He grits out.

She flushes at the sight of his bare torso as she speaks, “I just came by to check up on you.”

Really? Kaz lets out an exasperated sigh and glares at the jar of the unknown yellow. His lips curl in memory of that excessively-sugary Indian sweet that she had shoved in his mouth this morning. He’s not falling for her words again.

Her own eyes follow his and she smiles, lifting the jar higher. “Ah yes! I brought turmeric for you.”

He scrunches his nose in suspicion. “I don’t think I need it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Says the man with a gun.”

Exactly! And she must be scared of this sight. Not strike jokes about it. But he has to admit he’s quite pleased that she’s mentioning the gun instead of commenting on the cane in his other hand. She doesn't even flash a single pitiful glance like the others who come across him do.

“Anyways, may I come in?” She waits patiently.

“For what?” He asks.

“To make you a glass of turmeric milk.” She states, as if its the most normal thing to do for a neighbour.

“Again, I don't need that.” It feels like arguing with a saleswoman.

“But its good for health.” She informs wisely and her eyes stray towards his chest. “And it'll help you heal faster.”

He quirks a brow incredulously. “Fantastic! Just what I needed. Give me the jar and I'll make it myself.”

“Just like you said you'll call you doctor friend?” Her eyes rove pointedly over the injured state of his chest and she shakes her head. “I think I should do this myself.”

Kaz gulps. He knows he will regret this later. Yet something tells him that rejecting her hospitality will only make her more persistent. And its not like his significant belongings just lie around the house. She won’t be able to figure-out anything about him. Yeah but what kind of a sane guy greets a neighbor with a gun? He dismisses the thought instantly. Maybe she’ll just make her energy drink and leave. Maybe she won't consider him a sociopath at all.

“Come in.” He slides the gun in his pocket and opens the door wider.

Inej neatly puts her slippers in the shoe-rack before following Kaz into the living room. While he resumes his task of bandaging his wound, she watches quietly, making him feel self-conscious for the first time since he was fourteen. Now that he isn’t focused on interrogating her, he is unable to be as nonchalant as he had been minutes ago.

“Your job sure keeps you entertained.” She remarks. “I thought your line of work didn’t allow action to this..severity.”

Kaz regards her curiously. He isn’t sure he’s aware of what she’s talking about. Is she a spy from another rising gang? Is she vaguely suggesting she knows about his position in the Dregs? His hands twitch as they tie the gauze.

“You are a Private Investigator, afterall.” She adds.

Oh. Kaz nods in relief. Of course she's talking about his cover job. She probably learnt this as well from the building management.

“Ye-Yeah..things do get messy sometimes.” He confesses imprecisely and starts returning the disinfectant, cotton pads and the remaining gauze into the kit. He needs a shirt. He's never felt so nervous in a woman's presence.

Thankfully, she ends the awkward moment for the both of them. “I..I should start on that milk. If your apartment has the same layout as mine, the kitchen should be the next room from the gallery?”

He nods once and picks up his cane, heading ahead of her in the direction of his bedroom.

Upon his return, and with a shirt on, he notices the absence of his brandy from the table. A package with Kooperom's logo sits in its place. His duvet has been folded neatly, resting on one end of the couch. And his neighbor is standing in the center of the living room, a glass of yellowish, creamy liquid in her hand. He’s assuming its the “turmeric milk”.

“So uh..a delivery man came by just as you left.” She gestures to the package and continues, “I’ve put the turmeric jar on your kitchen counter. Just add a spoonful to your milk daily and you'll be back in shape in no time.”

She strides towards him and pushes the glass into his free hand. “Goodnight, Mr. Brekker.”

And just like that..she’s gone. What’s with her swinging by and departing so abruptly?

Kaz locks the door and sits by his folded duvet. Its interesting how she managed to clean this room within the few minutes he was gone.

He unpacks the food, picks up a fork and takes a bite of the meat from the hutspot. Fulfilling as ever. He takes another bite and looks at the glass in his hand. Reluctantly, he brings it to his lips and takes a sip, bracing himself for another weird experience. To his surprise, it tastes alright. And strangely enough, his muscles do ease a bit. Maybe having neighbors isn't all that bad.

Hutspot: a traditional Dutch dish of potatoes, carrots and onions. Sometimes meat is served as a side dish with it.

Turmeric: a spice regularly used by Indians in their cuisine. Its said to be a natural antiseptic.

Turmeric Milk: drinking milk with turmeric is good for health. even gargling with turmeric water (hot) is good for throat.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading this..:3

.

Read more Soc Fanfics, Headcanons & AUs here

(divider by @firefly-graphics)

#kanej #kanej fanfic #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #shadow and bone #grishaverse #dirtyhands #the wraith #kaz x inej #kanej fanfiction

[shwazzberryswriting]

Movie Night

Pairing: Renjun x Original Female Character|Reader

Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Humor

Summary: Renjun's crush just broke up with her boyfriend, now is his chance to make a move. Things don't go according to plan. ---- Part 3 of my "The NCT Frat House Series"

Word count: 4.5k

Rating/Warnings: PG-13/Kissing, watching an R rated movie together

Author’s Note: My first Renjun fic! Please enjoy!

------

    As a favor to Lucas, Kun’s girlfriend Ruby was organizing a surprise birthday party for Alma, Lucas’s girlfriend. Ruby and her roommates offered their house to host the party, and though Alexandria didn’t qualify as a roommate, she was a friend, so she was part of the party planning committee. When she arrived on the day of the party, she was not prepared for the NCT frat bros to be at Ruby’s house, helping set up.

    Once Janell handed out responsibilities to the volunteers, Alexandria was seated at the dining table, using Ruby’s coveted decorating tweezers to strategically place silver sprinkles onto a simple white frosted cake. With her legs crossed in front of her, and her shoulders slumped down to get a closer inspection at the cake, Alexandria stopped and sat up straight, rolling her shoulders as she fixed her posture. Blowing her brown bangs out of her eyes, she tried not to think about her mom’s constant nagging, You’re an adult now, and you still need to fix your posture.

    “The ‘A’ needs more sprinkles,” Haechan said, leaning over from across the table to look at her work, breaking her concentration.

    “Who died and made you my boss?” she asked, looking up at him.

    “I mean, if you want the cake to be ugly, don’t take my advice,” he said with a shrug, turning back to the game he was playing on his phone.

    “What are you doing here if you’re not helping set up for the party?” she asked, trying to keep her tone even.

    “Johnny told me to be here two hours before 5:00 so I’m here two hours before 5:00,” he said.

    “We’re here two hours early so we can help set up for the party,” Renjun explained as he sat down next to Haechan. “Janell put us on balloon duty.”

    “Where’s the helium tank?” Haechan asked, looking up. “I’ll fill the balloons and you can tie them.”     “We can take turns,” Renjun replied. “It’ll be faster.”

    “No, you have nimble fingers. They’re perfect for tying balloons. I can’t tie balloons. I should be in charge of the helium tank.”

    “Lex!” they heard a voice shout from the backyard. The only person to call her by that name was Janell's younger sister. Renjun jumped in his seat and Haechan snorted a guffaw while Alexandria stood up and slapped Haechan’s arm gently, chiding him for laughing at Renjun. Renjun was easily startled but Haechan took extra glee in his reaction due to Renjun having a crush on Janell's sister.

    Alexandria hadn’t meant to find out that Renjun had a crush on Violet, but during a recent party at the NCT Frat house Renjun had drunkenly admitted to her and a couple friends his secret. Before the party, Alexandria considered herself friendly with Renjun, but now that she’d experienced him make a drunken confession they were comfortable calling each other friends. He’d even gone to her condo a couple times to hang out. Unfortunately for Renjun, since Alexandria was in on the secret Haechan felt more comfortable teasing him in front of her.

    “Alexie,” Haechan said, touching her arm to stop her from leaving, “don’t make it obvious that Renjun likes Violet.”

    Renjun reached over to wrap his hands around Haechan’s neck, a pained smile on his lips, and Alexandria shook her head as she turned away from the fight. She was going to have to remind Ruby and Kun that they were better off not asking any of the NCT guys to help with any sort of party planning. The small surprise birthday party for Lucas’s girlfriend had turned into a daycare for man-children, and not even half of them had come.

    “You called?” Alexandria said to Violet once she made it outside to the backyard. She sat down on the picnic table. Violet, Janell, and Johnny were decorating a couple mason jars for the small bouquets of wild flowers they’d picked from around the neighborhood.

    “If I gave you some cash, would you go to the dispensary and buy me a couple joints?” Violet asked. "My sister and her boyfriend won't help me out."

    “Hold on,” Alexandria said, raising her hands out before her as she stood up. “Am I the only one who remembers what kind of party this is? Lucas asked for a small cute surprise birthday party for Alma, this isn’t a house party.”

    “Oh my gosh, Lex, you’re always so dramatic,” Violet said with a sigh. “I need some weed because I broke up with Joey, OK?”

    “I’m sorry,” Alexandria said as she sat down beside Violet, hugging her. “We can chill at my place after Alma’s birthday party. I’ll take you to my favorite dispensary, my treat. What happened?”

    As Violet tearfully went on a tangent about her ungrateful ex-boyfriend, Alexandria glanced over to see Janell and Johnny rolling their eyes. It was in Janell’s nature not to extend too much sympathy toward her younger sister, still holding a grudge that Violet had followed her across state lines to attend the same university, so Alexandria took on the task to give Violet a little more patience as a surrogate older sister. With that in mind, Alexandria couldn’t blame Janell and Johnny for reacting the way they did when it came to Joey, Violet’s boyfriend of 5 months.

    The couple were cute, but they argued constantly. Violet and Joey had spent the last month threatening to break up with each other, and now that they were properly broken up it seemed like the drama was still ongoing. Alexandria tried her best to remember what it was like with her first boyfriend. She'd believed he was The One and put up with the petty drama, so she understood why Violet was putting herself through the unnecessary pain with Joey. After a five minute rant, Violet seemed satisfied and grew quiet as Alexandria confirmed that she would buy Violet some weed.

    Returning to the dining table, Alexandria found Renjun tying ribbons onto a single balloon, and then heard Haechan with some others in the front living room, playing with the balloons and helium tank. She sat down and crossed her legs in her seat before returning to spelling out Alma’s name onto the cake using the sprinkles. Renjun ran a hand through his hair and leaned back as he watched Alexandria decorate the cake, his new platinum blonde hair making his brown eyes seem bigger and darker than they already were.

    “Did you hear?” she asked softly, raising an eyebrow. “Violet broke up with Joey.”

    “You’re lying,” he said, though he sat up straight, leaning over closer to her. “What happened?”

    “She broke up with him a few days ago, and I invited her to my place so we can get high,” she replied. “You should come along. Maybe you can cheer her up.”

    He laughed nervously as he met her gaze, and she closed her mouth as Ruby and Kun entered the kitchen. Given the tone of his voice, Kun was nearing the end of his patience as he barked orders over his shoulder only to be met with what sounded like Yangyang imitating Kun. There was a ripple of high pitched laughter, and Ruby gave Kun a pleading look.

    “They’re grown men, they’ll be fine,” Kun said, setting some grocery bags onto the countertop.

    “They’re playing with a cheap helium tank,” Ruby said softly. “Do you hear them?”

    The front living room sounded like the Chipmunks singing Migos’ “Walk It Talk It” followed by more high pitched laughter. Groaning and slumping his shoulders, Kun turned around and led Ruby back to the front living room so they could make sure the boys weren’t going to hurt themselves. Meanwhile, Alexandria and Rejun set up the dining table with the bouquets, balloons, and cake.

    As everyone gathered around the front door to surprise Alma, Alexandria asked Jeno and Hendery to help her tape up the streamers in the kitchen so that Renjun and Violet would have a moment alone on the loveseat. When she returned to the front living room, she saw Renjun and Violet deep in conversation, and patted herself on the back. As she stood beside the loveseat, Violet grabbed her hand and invited her to sit with them, sandwiching Renjun between them.

    "Isn't he the softest thing in the world?" Violet asked as she reached her arms out around Renjun and grasped onto Alexandria's arms.

    Alexandria gave a chuckle as she reached out to grab Violet’s arms in return and the two women hugged Renjun, his face turned bright pink and he began guffawing. It was difficult for anyone not to like Violet. She enjoyed showing affection to her friends and was doing her best to make Renjun blush, making some of the other guys laugh. Alexandria placed a hand on Renjun’s cheek and chuckled again as she felt that it was burning up. She removed herself from the group hug and let Violet continue to hug him while she turned around to see Kun and Johnny standing nearby, complaining like middle age dads, each man holding a can of beer in his hand.

    Even after graduating, Kun and Johnny were still in touch with the frat house, making sure the guys were taking care of themselves. It also benefited the NCT guys that Kun and Johnny's girlfriends were still attending university, so the two men were likely nearby the campus during their free time. Alexandria understood the sentiment. She hadn't lived with Ruby and Janell for over a year, but she visited them often and helped clean the house as if she still lived there.

    When Lucas and Alma arrived at 5:00, Yangyang, Haechan, Xiaojun, Hendery, Jaemin, and Chenle had taken some of the helium filled balloons and insisted on singing Alma's birthday song with their high pitched helium voices. Alma was a good sport and clapped as everyone suffered through their helium induced singing. Once she was served a slice of cake, Alexandria sat down with Violet and Renjun in the dining room, the trio sitting across from Alma and Lucas.

    Lucas pulled Alma into his lap and he kissed her free hand as she ate her slice of cake. For as long as Alexandria had known the couple, they were proud to be affectionate with each other. Their PDA didn't bother her, but she knew it made some people uncomfortable. She stopped herself from laughing out loud and snorted cake up her nose as she glanced over to see Renjun poking his fork into his slice of cake as his eyes darted nervously from Alma to Lucas while Violet's eyes were focused on the pair as she passively chewed on her food. The pair looked to be taking notes from Alma and Lucas.

    "I-I need water," Alexandria coughed out, distracting Renjun and Violet. The cake crumbs up her nose burned her sinuses, and she stood up to find a tissue.

    "Let me take you home," Violet announced, standing up immediately. "Happy birthday, Alma! Janell and Johnny paid for your present but I picked it out. Remember that when you unwrap it."

    "Over here, Dria," Renjun said, standing up and leading her toward the front living room by placing his hand on her elbow.

    "Lexie!" Yangyang and Xiaojun exclaimed together.

    "Alexie!" Haechan and Hendery screamed, making her laugh before she gagged and fell onto the sofa beside Jeno.

    “Are you dying, Andria?” Jeno asked as he helped her sit up. His shoulders were shaking as he tried not to laugh.

    The guys found out that Renjun gave Alexandria a nickname in an attempt to start a conversation with Violet when he first met Violet. Whenever any of them heard Renjun call her "Dria" they enjoyed making jokes out of her name, and Alexandria knew it was easier to let the kids have their fun rather than take the teasings to heart.

    “I don’t want to ruin the party,” she said when Renjun handed her a bottle of water. “I’m going home.”

    “Can I come?” Violet asked immediately, linking her arm with Alexandria’s.

    “You want to come along?” Alexandria asked Renjun.

    “I do,” Haechan said, raising his hand. “Alexie! Will you make me your mom’s eggrolls?”

    “Sorry, Haechan,” Violet said as she grabbed Renjun’s hand. “Alexandria only likes me and Renjun.”

    “Happy birthday, Alma!” Alexandria shouted as Violet walked her and Renjun out of Ruby and Janell’s home.

    As she dropped by the dispensary, Alexandria had Violet and Renjun go buy snacks, directing them to meet at the front of her condo complex after 20 minutes. She took a slow stroll through the streets, appreciating the warm spring weather. She thought about how she was playing Renjun’s wing(wo)man, and she wondered if her interest in Renjun and Violet hooking up was her way in dating vicariously through her friends, something Ruby and Wen, one of Ruby’s other roommates, had accused her of before.

    She gave herself another pat on the back when she saw Renjun and Violet laughing together, plastic bags in their hands. Was she dating vicariously through her friends? Whatever the case, Alexandria was glad that Renjun and Violet seemed to be hitting it off. Renjun was a fun person to be around, and Violet was playful as well, the two would always have fun together. Violet could take advantage of Renjun’s NCT Frat status to invite herself to Janell and Johnny’s dates. There was so much to be gained, Alexandria hoped Violet would see Renjun’s datability.

    "We decided to watch a horror movie," Violet announced when Alexandria led them inside. "Have you heard of It Follows? It's about a sexually transmitted monster. Renjun makes it sound good."

    "Um, OK," Alexandria replied, plastering on a bright smile. She hated horror movies, but Renjun and Violet looked excited as they shared a smile and raised their eyebrows. "Is it, like, super scary?"

    "It's not super gory but there are definite scary elements to it," Renjun answered. "Your condo is perfect, too, Dria. It's quiet and there's only going to be the three of us."

    "Perfect," Alexandria muttered as Renjun and Violet listed their favorite horror movies to each other while they entered the elevator.

    Renjun made them iced green tea, and Alexandria popped 2 bags of popcorn in her microwave and unpacked all the candies into bowls. Violet sat by the patio door and lit a joint as she played music from her phone, setting the mood for the evening. Alexandria went through stages where she either smoked a lot of weed or she didn’t, and she hadn’t smoked in over 2 months, but Violet tempted her into taking a few hits, especially when Renjun said that he’d take a hit if Alexandria did. He didn’t react well, coughing up a storm, and Alexandria felt bad that Renjun was smoking in an attempt to impress Violet.

    She felt worse when she noticed that Violet was texting with Joey. Violet’s music playlist had started with playful Bruno Mars songs, but after a few texts with Joey she began playing Ariana Grande love jams. Renjun was too busy singing along to the music to notice the shift in Violet’s mood. Placing the bowls of snacks onto a serving tray, Alexandria asked Violet and Renjun to bring the snacks to the living room and start the movie while she would finish preparing the iced tea, hoping to give them a few minutes alone.

    “I invited Joey over,” Violet announced when Alexandria arrived with a small serving tray that held the glasses of tea, sitting up straight. “He wants to watch the movie with us.”

    “Um, sure,” Alexandria said as she sat down next to Violet, making sure it was Violet who was seated in the middle. “How long before Joey gets here?”

    “He’ll be here soon,” Violet said loudly as she picked up the remote and started the movie.

    Alexandria held the bowl of popcorn in her lap as she sat on the couch with her legs crossed in front of her, her shoulders slouching. Noticing her posture, she straightened her back, and rolled her shoulders as she glanced over to see Violet’s eyes glued to her phone while Renjun was busy shoving M&Ms into his mouth, completely absorbed in the movie. They were roughly ten minutes into the movie when there was a knock on the front door.

    “I’ve got it!” Violet said immediately, jumping up and rushing to the front door. She stepped outside and shut the door, having not invited Joey in.

    Alexandria ate some popcorn as she tried to pay attention to the movie, but all she could hear was Violet and Joey having an argument in the hallway. As Joey sounded like he was crying, begging Violet to give him another chance, Alexandria glanced at Renjun and was impressed to see him absentmindedly shoving Skittles into his mouth, still completely immersed with the movie. She turned her attention to the movie, and felt her face grow hot as she realized that the scene was a sex scene. Feeling silly for her bashfulness, Alexandria set the bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table and grabbed her glass of iced tea. The movie was about a sexually transmitted monster, of course there would be at least one sex scene. 

    Sipping her drink, Alexandria’s eyes drifted to the front door as she heard Violet and Joey talk, their voices sounding softer and less volatile. Her eyes returned to the TV screen as she set her drink down, and she sank into her seat as she watched the scene unfold. The lead protagonist, a blonde girl named Jay, was lying on her stomach in the backseat of her date’s car as she talked.

    It was a sweet post-sex scene, her date was crawling up behind her, and Alexandria gave a soft sigh as she thought about the last time she’d felt a guy press his body up against her back. It’d been before Ruby and Janell began dating their boyfriends, and she cringed at the length of her dry spell. Her mind forgot about her lack of a sex life as the lead’s date chloroformed her from behind, shocking Alexandria. She leaned in close to Renjun and threw a hand over her mouth, worried that she might scream.

    “Renjun, what’s going on?!” she breathed out, shaking his arm. “I thought this was about a sexually transmitted monster! Is her date going to kill her?”

    “Watch the movie,” he said, sighing gently. “Can I get some popcorn?”

    Alexandria screamed and grabbed on tighter to Renjun’s arm as the scene in the movie became more intense, Jay’s date had tied her up to a chair and she could not move as her date explained to her of the monster that was now after her. It was a slow monster that took on the form of a random person, and once It caught up to the infected person It would kill them. She buried her face into Renjun’s arm, and said to him, “I can’t watch this! I can’t watch this!”

    Renjun laughed, making her look up, and she sat up straight, feeling her face grow hot.

    “It’s just a movie. I knew you were afraid of scary movies, but…wow, Dria. You’re a complete wimp.”

    “I never denied being a complete wimp,” she said, shoving his arm. “If you want to finish this movie then you’re going to have to put up with me jumping and screaming.”

    “Fine,” he said, giving a small chuckle, throwing his arm over her shoulder. “I can’t believe I have to hold you like a little kid.”

    “Oh my gosh, they called the cops?” she asked, turning her attention to the movie.

    “Cops are useless in horror movies,” he replied. “You really don’t watch scary movies?”

    “No. Do you remember that old Japanese movie…Ju-Oh? My cousin was babysitting me when I was 8, and she put it on for us to watch and I haven’t liked scary movies since.”

    Renjun laughed and she poked his side to shut him up. After he pushed her away, Alexandria hugged her legs and Renjun leaned back into the sofa as he ate the popcorn. The movie’s pacing was slower and more subtle than she’d anticipated, and Alexandria found herself being drawn into the mystery. What was going on, and would Jay be able to avoid the monster? Alexandria bit her bottom lip, wondering if she’d be able to go through with finding new sex partners in an attempt to prevent a monster from coming to kill her.

    The suspense built up again, and Alexandria tried to be brave, but the reveal of the monster entering Jay’s house at night was too grotesque. She screamed once more, and grabbed for Renjun’s arm again, throwing her face into his shoulder. He laughed, and threw his arm over her shoulder, letting her grab onto his hoodie as she turned her face in toward his chest. The movie kept slowing the suspense down to build up drama, and whenever the suspense built up it went on much longer than she was prepared for, so Alexandria spent the majority of the film curled up in Renjun’s arm, clawing her fingers into his chest.

    “So are they going to die?” she asked him once the movie ended. It ended on an ambiguous note.

    “Maybe,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “What do you think?”

    “I think if I ever watch scary movies, this is the only way I can watch them,” she said, burying her face into his chest again.

    The air was silent and became very still after what felt like an entire minute. Renjun hadn’t moved a centimeter, so she lifted her head up and saw him looking down at her with his eyebrows furrowed. Looking into her eyes, his face softened, and he reached over to cup her cheek in his hand. She looked at his long eyelashes for a moment when he kissed her, but feeling the warmth of his lips on hers instantly had her closing her eyes. His hold around her tightened, and she moved her hand up to touch his neck. As her fingers moved to caress his earlobe, he pulled back, breaking the kiss.

    They stared at each other, and Alexandria could only think about wanting to kiss him again, her mind feeling foggy. She could feel her heart beating fast and loud in her throat, and his arm draped around her body felt heavy. She pressed her chest against his as she pushed forward, kissing him, but turned her head aside when she felt his hand on her cheek drift down to her neck. He groaned as his tongue flicked the side of her cheek.

    “I think you should go home,” she said softly.

    The heat that burst into her gut was intense when his fingers had touched the bare skin of her neck, and she wasn’t sure how well she could handle Renjun’s touches. The night had been a mess, and she didn’t want him to think she was the type of friend who was into hookups. They might come to regret it, especially if Renjun was going to continue to crush on Violet.

    “Did I do something?” he asked, releasing his hold on her. She shook her head, planting her feet onto the ground, sitting up straight.

    “I’m sorry that Violet bailed on our movie night,” she said softly, her eyes unable to meet his.

    “Oh, right, yeah,” he said, falling back into the cushions of the sofa. He ran a hand through his hair, and he gave a nervous chuckle. They sat together in silence for a few moments, and then he spoke up again. “Why did you kiss me?”

    “You kissed me,” she replied, shoving him gently by pushing her hand against his knee. “You started it.”

    “The details don’t matter,” he said, sitting up straight. “We kissed, I liked it, and I know you did too.”

    “So?”

    “So...can I kiss you again?”

    He barely had the question out of his mouth when she’d already begun to climb onto his lap. She held onto his shoulders as she straddled him while he rested his hands on her hips. They kissed, her fingers running gently through his hair as she dove her tongue into his mouth, giving a soft moan every time his mouth was able to capture her tongue to suck on it. When her lips began to burn, feeling a little swollen, Alexandria pushed against Renjun’s chest, and sat up straight, looking into his eyes.

    “This is a bad idea,” she said.

    She shut her eyes and bit her bottom lip, pulling his head to rest on her shoulder as his hands slid down to grab her ass. She raked her fingers through his hair as she panted heavily, breathing through her mouth as his hands groped and squeezed her ass cheeks. Instinctively, her hips thrust against his, but she closed her mouth and found the willpower to shove against his chest, getting off his lap to sit back down beside him.

    “What’s so bad about it?” he asked, out of breath, his eyes looking at her in a way she’d never seen before. His eyes were darting around, seeming to look over every inch of her.

    “I mean, I think Violet and Joey are back together, but...you know, what’s going to happen when they break up for good?” she asked, brushing her bangs with her fingers, trying not to look at him.

    “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging.

    “You really don’t care about her? This girl you’ve been crushing on for months?”

    Renjun gave her a grin. He sat up in his seat, and he said, “Dria, I forgot that you invited me here for Violet. It’s just you and me here, and I like it better when it’s just you and me.”

    “So are you saying that you like me?” she asked.

    “Dria, you just felt my boner poking your ass,” he said, making her blush. “Yeah, I like you. What? You don’t like me? I can go home.”

    He made to stand up, but she reached over and grabbed his arm.

    “No!” she shouted. “Renjun! I like you! Stay. You have to stay.”

    “Oh, I have to stay now?” he asked, guffawing as he moved to stand up. “I thought you wanted me to leave.”

    “I watched that scary movie with you!” she said, placing herself onto his lap. “You have to give me company now, because I’m going to have nightmares.” She kissed his cheek, making him stop as he grinned at her, his face turning pink. “What a twist,” she said softly. He laughed, touching her chin to tilt her head toward his, and then kissed her.

    “None of our friends are going to see this coming,” he admitted.

    “Can we watch another movie?” she asked him, resting her head onto his shoulder.

    She didn’t want to think or talk about their friends. He kissed her cheek, smiling at her before picking up the remote to scroll around for another movie to watch. He insisted all the movies he wanted to watch weren’t very scary, the title cards and movie posters just looked scary. She didn’t believe him, but eventually let him pick a movie for them to watch. As much as she didn’t like scary movies, it was worth it since she was in Renjun’s arms.

------ Thank you always for reading!

#nct renjun #nct fanfic #NCT #nct x reader #nct fluff #renjun x reader #renjun fluff #nct au #AU college #au university #fluff and humor #nct dream #no beta read

[wkemeup]

By Any Other Name (3)

series summary: When Special Agent Bucky Barnes is tasked with infiltrating the notorious gang Hydra and gathering evidence against its leader, Brock Rumlow, Bucky finds himself drawn to the woman who doesn’t seem to belong in this world of violence, the wife of the head of Hydra… you. pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 6.9k warnings: flirty heart eyes, excessive emphasis on fluff, love is in the AIR, the knowledge that these happy times won’t last forever....... 👀 🌹series masterlist 🌹

“You did what now?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, explicitly ignoring Sam’s full-bellied laugh as he struggled not to spill the open lidded coffee cup on the impossibly small table between them. There were near tears in his eyes and patrons of the Brooklyn based café were all staring in their direction. Bucky tugged the bridge of his baseball cap lower over his eyes.

“Leave him alone, Sam. It was a good idea,” Steve warned, voice low, as he turned to Bucky to clap a hand on his shoulder. He gripped at the muscle, massaging the tender scar tissue, before dropping his grip. “It gave him an in with Y/n. He needs to work on building that foundation of trust before he can start figuring out what she knows about Hydra. Ain’t that right, Buck?”

Bucky nodded, his lips pressing to a thin line, though it felt forced, jarring against his features. 

“Yeah.”

He could still picture the shock in your eyes; the surprise and the realization as he placed the book in your hands. He had thought for a minute that you were going to laugh at him and discard the old, worn down copy he’d stolen from his high school library as a sophomore because it in no way compared to the first edition novels worth thousands of dollars sitting upon your shelves, but the smile that lifted your lips had made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest.

Sure, maybe there was a part of him that knew that your library and your clear love of fiction would be an easy target to begin building a connection, a layer of trust, before he could start getting the information from you he needed, but it wasn’t why he’d spent two hours tearing apart his childhood bedroom in search of the book.

He wanted to see you smile again.

He wanted to see your eyes light up and the way you bite on the corner of your lip. There was just something about it that made his stomach twist in knots, that made his own mouth start to curve at the edges, and his heart beat just a little quicker. It was so rare to see it from you, especially in the days your husband lingered around, but suddenly, it was all he could think about.

He could have asked for the funds from the Bureau to buy you the first edition, writing it off as a necessary expense for his cover, but somehow, he knew you’d appreciate the hand-me-down copy more. It had character and a history. It was messy, and a little broken; a glimpse into his life, his real life, something he was never supposed to cross the boundaries of, but it served its purpose.

He’d seen you around the house carrying it under your arm for nearly four days after he’d given it to you. Sometimes he’d spot you sitting in the living room, nose deep in the pages as he walked in the front door behind Rumlow before you’d get up and quickly escape to your library without a word to your husband, though you stopped and caught his eye before you left, holding up the book so he knew you were reading it and giving him that short, stolen smile before you disappeared.

You had run into him on the fifth day and swatted him with the book in a rare moment when he was standing by himself in the kitchen, Rumlow having gone up to the office to gather some paperwork before they were meant to head to the Lernaean.

“What did this poor book ever do to you?” you had teased him, flipping open the pages of his copy of A Farewell to Arms to find stains of Dorito dust in the folds on page 76, mindless doodles done in blue ink pen on the top corner of page 117, and a sticky note taped to the inside back cover of a crude drawing of a lanky, high school version of Steve with big angry eyebrows and a boxing gloves held up by his face.

“Sorry, I guess I should have looked it over before I lent it to you.” Bucky laughed, swiping the book back from your hands and earning a pout in return. “I mean if you don’t want to finish it, I’ll just take it b--”

“I never said I was done with it, you vandal!”

Your laugh was like music to his ears, melodic and captivating, and he hated the moments you cut it off short and closed it away to the darkest parts of yourself; moments like when your husband walked back into the room.

Rumlow had eyed you with a kind of look you must have been familiar with because your smile fell away instantly and Bucky released the book to your grasp. You held it down by your hips, eyes glued to the floor. He had watched as you left the room without another word, book gripped so tightly in your hands, the pages started to crinkle.

He knew what he was feeling was dangerous. It went against every code he swore an oath to. He’d be pulled from the case the second Director Fury got wind of his personal attachment to you – if that’s what he was going to call it. There wasn’t really a way to describe what he was feeling.

Infatuation. Admiration. Longing. Ease. Attraction.

He didn’t know.

All he knew was that he wanted to see you smile more, wanted to knock Rumlow’s teeth in for more reasons than why he was stationed undercover within Hydra in the first place. He wanted to know why you were involved in this world to begin with and how you ended up trapped in a marriage you clearly wanted nothing to do with.

He wanted to protect you from all this; from Hydra, from his investigation.

A few conversations, a couple smiles from across the rooms, and it changed everything.

“Buck? You awake in there?” Sam chuckled, tapping a finger on Bucky’s forehead until he swatted his hand away with a grunt.

“Knock it off, Wilson,” Bucky grumbled, bending down to take a sip of the burning hot coffee resting in his grasp. It stung on his lips but he swallowed it back anyway, the heat of it warming down through his chest.

“It’s been almost two months,” Steve said casually, “how have you been holding up?”

Bucky glanced around at the busy café. It wasn’t unusual for them to meet in public places and talk about the case, as long as they kept details vague and didn’t draw any attention. Hell, Bucky just needed an outlet sometimes outside of the conference rooms and safe houses he usually met the team in. He was thankful Nat typically elected out of their Sunday coffee runs because she was always able to read him like a hawk, and he was certain she’d be able to pick up on his affection towards you in an instant.

“It’s fine,” Bucky shrugged. “Boss is still a piece of shit.”

“Yeah, well, we already knew that,” Sam agreed, pursing his lips with a shake of his head.

“You said there were some guys there who seemed to be blackmailed into their work?” Steve asked, voice a little quieter now.

Bucky nodded. “Seems that way. Not everyone is there by choice. Still working out the details of who but I’ve got a list going for Nat when we meet up next week. I’m supposed to be stationed out on the docks this week so I’ll talk to the guys then.”

“Good, good,” Steve said. He paused for a moment, staring down into his coffee, studying the swirl of the soft chestnut coloring. “You being careful?”

Bucky smiled at that. For a kid who spent his youth getting himself into trouble and leaving Bucky to watch over his back, he sure as hell got protective himself once his body grew into his rebellious and reckless attitude.

“Yeah, pal, you know I always am.”

“Something just feels different about this one,” Steve said, leaning back into his chair. A woman behind the counter was staring at him, and he cleared his throat awkwardly upon noticing her eyes, shrugging the collar of his jacket up to cover the pink blush in his cheeks.

“Well this is the biggest profile case we’ve tackled,” Sam offered casually as he took a sip of his coffee, grinning at the way the girl at the counter shamelessly ogled at Steve.

“I don’t like that he’s in there so deep with no one to watch his six,” Steve shook his head, teeth gritted.

“I’m not alone and you know it,” Bucky responded, reaching across the table to grab a firm hold of Steve’s forearm, squeezing just enough to get him to meet his eye. There was hesitancy there and Steve wasn’t usually one to worry. “I’ve got you guys, remember?”

“You just need to watch yourself, alright?” Steve exhaled, patting at Bucky’s hand until he released his arm. “This is the first time you’ve been put in so close to the target. You spent most of your time in his house, Buck, and with Fury tellin’ you to get close to the wife, I just... I worry there’s too much on your shoulders and somethings going to fall through the cracks.”

Bucky sighed, exchanging a quick look with Sam who’s teasing smile had faded away upon noticing the genuine concern and anxiety in their friend.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to him, Steve,” Sam said, sending a wink at Bucky before he added, “you know he’d never let us hear the end of it.”

Bucky laughed, nodding. “Damn straight.”

Sam punched at Steve’s shoulder, grinning again, and didn’t let up until Steve finally relaxed and sat up further in his chair, the tension clearly washing from his muscles.

“Now that that’s all settled,” Sam teased, clapping Steve on the shoulder, “how about we focus on getting you the pretty barista’s number?”

***

Sundays used to be your only good days.

You used to find solace in warm teas and coffees from Café Ramos and freshly baked bagels from the Marselli’s; freedom in the wind gusting through the open back streets of Queens. Far away from tourists and amongst the bodegas and apartment buildings, you walked dozens of blocks from where your driver dropped you off; an added precaution to keep Brock from tracking down where you spent your time, and who you met up with.

Peter was sitting on the stoop of the brownstone, cheek resting on his hand and slouching up his face as he stared down at his phone. There was a lovesick look in his eye and you wondered if he ever got around to asking that girl out from school he’d been crushing on.

He was a sweet kid. Kind. Compassionate. Intelligent beyond belief. But his optimism and habit of overlooking flaws to see the best in someone, while admirable, was dangerous. It was why you worked so hard to keep him away from Brock. Your husband had a talent of convincing kids like that with an eagerness to please and a family tight on cash to join his ranks.

Peter was like a brother to you, having grown up with him running around your father’s house at all hours of the day when Aunt May was working, but lately, you kept him at an arm's length. You never let him over at the house, kept details vague about Brock’s employment, and insisted on walking the fourteen blocks to his apartment to pick him up, even when he offered to meet you at the subway stop near where your driver dropped you off.

He was a sweet kid, but he was naïve. Young. He had some learning to do. It was what you liked so much about him. You could use a little unending joy and positivity in your life.

“Hey Aunt May!” you called, waving at her as she walked by the front window folding a shirt from the dryer. She paused, turning towards you with a big smile and made her way to the door.

Peter had nearly fallen over on himself, clutching at his chest, his phone on the ground where it flung from his hands upon your sudden arrival.

“You okay there, kid?” you laughed, bending down to pick up his phone. No cracks. You handed it back to him with a wink.

He chuckled nervously, brushing off the screen with the edge of his shirt. “You scared me.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so nose deep in your phone, Z.”

“Yeah, okay, Mil.”

“Z? Mil? You two develop another coded language or am I losing it?” Aunt May folded her arms over her chest as she leaned against the frame of the door.

“Gen Z,” Peter explained, pointing to himself, and then to you, “Millennial.”

You and Peter had some years between one another and, sure, you didn’t always understand the other’s lingo or quirks in their behavior, but it didn’t make much difference to either of you. It was another reason to poke fun at each other. Siblings were like that.

“I still think it’s funny you spend as much time together as you do,” Aunt May smiled.

“Hey, I keep him out of trouble!”

“-- and I keep her young.”

“Okay, watch yourself, kid,” you warned, laughing as you poked him hard in the side, causing him to jump away a few feet to escape another attack.

Aunt May always did like you being around so much after Uncle Ben died. Peter didn’t take it so well, not after losing his parents too, so he spent hours every day at your house when Aunt May was on shift at the hospital. You’d occupy his time and keep his mind from wondering back to finding his uncle in the streets, alone and bleeding. He was so young when it happened, you were surprised that when your father died just a few years later, he had insisted on doing the same for you.

The years between you didn’t matter. Not when it came to a bond like that.

“Will you come say hi already?” Aunt May teased, stomping her foot playfully as she opened her arms to you and you rushed up the stoop to fall into her embrace. She smelled of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and you peaked around the corner to find trays lined up on the kitchen table. Your stomach growled.

“Do I smell--”

“You want some before we go?” Peter asked before shoving his way inside, not quite bothering to wait for an answer as he started grabbing a few cookies from the table, bouncing a particularly hot one between his hands before he shoved it in his mouth.

He grabbed two for you, slipping them into your outstretched hand as you stepped out of Aunt May’s hold. She smiled at you, brushing your hair from your eyes in that motherly way you’d missed since you were a kid. You supposed it was another thing that drew you and Peter together.

“Don’t think I forgot about that science project you have due this week!” Aunt May called as you and Peter started to walk to the sidewalk. He visibly winced. “I want you home before dinner, Peter.”

“Okay, okay!” he groaned, shooing her off with a wave of his hand and sent you a glare as you struggled to contain your laughter.

“Oh, man. I do not miss high school,” you grinned, taking a bite of the cookie and nearly choking on a moan that slipped out. Buttery soft and warm gooiness melting on your tongue. Heaven.

Peter rolled his eyes, nudging you with his elbow playfully. “Don’t rub it in.”

***

Your Sundays were never exceeding exciting. Most of your time spent with Peter was just running errands, taking deposits to the bank for Aunt May, picking up lunch at one of the sandwich shops, getting him a new pair of sneakers he so desperately needed even though he fought you on paying for them for about an hour before he gave in.

They were often mundane and filled with idle chatter, sitting on park benches and watching the people walk by and the tourists taking photos in front of brick walls. He’d sit there and talk for hours because that’s amongst the things Peter did best. He'd tell you everything from his latest science fair project, the progress on his Lego set with Ned, the kid named ‘Flash’ who pranked him again and filled his locker with whipped cream.

It was simple. It was easy and comforting.

It was an escape.

Peter had nearly forgotten he was supposed to pick up a few things from the corner store for Aunt May, so you were on your way to the shop with the black cat who liked to sit perched in the window just to get a good look at her again while he tracked down the milk and bread.

The wind was picking up and you tugged your jacket tighter around your chest. You glanced over at Peter who had his hands shoved into the thin layer of his jacket, cheeks a little pink from the wind and he shivered. 

Your heart ached a little and you decided you’d talk him into a new coat on your next Sunday together. He’d never make it through New York winter with holes in his pockets and no protection from the blistering wind.

While Brock didn’t give you access to enough of your father’s money to make it on your own, you had enough to buy things for Peter, to collect your first editions, and to remain moderately comfortable.

It was a ploy to keep you content, a carrot to dangle for the arguments when you’d threaten to storm out of the house you shared and he’d remind you, you had nothing without him, that he could implicate you in each and every one of his crimes, and you’d stay. Every time. You’d stay.

You had no choice.

And for years, you’d grown accustomed to the prison your home had turned into. Until you met James Karpov.

You’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel the twist of nerves in your stomach, to seek someone out amongst a crowd and to feel the relief deep in your bones upon finding them, upon finding blue eyes and dark brown hair, warm smile and that slight nod. So impossibly subtle and somehow it became the best part of your day.

Maybe you were naïve, and maybe it had simply been too long since anyone within that home had treated you with even an ounce of kindness or respect that you clung onto the first man who so much as smiled in your direction and asked about one of your overpriced books, but it gave you back a sense of yourself you’d been missing.

You started smiling again, starting looking forward to the days Brock held his meetings within the house in hopes that James would be there and you could ask him how far along he’d gotten in Fahrenheit 451. You were careful about your interactions with him, knowing that Brock was an exceptionally jealous man, even if your conversations with James were innocent.

And they were.

They had no greater meaning or underlying feelings.

So you told yourself, anyway.

The wind was picking up again and Peter was finishing up a very long and overly detailed recount of he and Ned’s favorite comic book series, when you realized you’d walked nearly five blocks without realizing it.

“Did you give Michele the necklace yet?” you asked him as you crossed the border into Brooklyn. He nearly choked on air, coughing to alleviate his surprise and you laughed into your scarf, trying to hold it back for the sake of his ego.

“Oh, um, not yet! But I’m working on it,” he chuckled nervously. “I’ve got a plan.”

Peter was starting to tell you all of the intricate and perfectly timed details of this ‘plan’ when you spotted someone across the street that caught your eye.

Tall, with long brown hair swept behind his ears and hiding under a baseball cap, hands tucked into the pockets of a familiar bomber, he swatted the arm of a friend on his left while the other scolded him.

You narrowed your eyes, not even realizing you’d pulled to a stop until Peter came rushing back a few paces, complaining he’d kept on walking without you. You apologized quickly, a little out of focus, and asked him for a minute. He nodded with a shrug and pulled out his phone, sinking down to the sidewalk and waited patiently.

“James?” you called over the rush of traffic. He didn’t seem to hear you.

You’d never seen him outside of your husband’s home and it was strange running into him in such a personal environment. He was with friends, off the job, his guard was down. A bright smile, brighter than you’d ever seen it on his face as he laughed loud enough for the sound to carry across the street. It made something in your chest clench.

You called his name again, a little louder this time, but the blare of a horn drowned you out.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you held up a hand to warn oncoming cars that you were crossing the street and quickly wove your way in and out of lanes until you made it to the other side of the road. You glanced in his direction, brushing out the dirt on the thighs of your jeans before you approached him again.

“James!”

You were only standing a few feet from him and he still didn’t respond. You closed your eyes, gritting your teeth and feeling a rush of embarrassment.

This was his day off; he didn’t need to be dealing with his boss’s wife.

All this time, while you were caught up in your own head with fantasies of ‘what if’s’ and finding solace in his short, kind smiles, he was probably just appeasing the wife of his boss. He must have known how lonely you were, could sense it a mile away, and he was simply being polite. You just misinterpreted it for interest or kindness or something, but it was clear your stolen moments over classic fiction and subtle glances across the room were exclusive to the walls of your home.

You turned to leave, clenching your hands into fists and puncturing the skin, when you heard your name called from behind you.

“Y/n?”

You spun around to find James staring at you with wide blue eyes. He was clearly surprised, caught off guard in a way few men of his rank within Hydra ever were, and he glanced back at his friends hesitantly before they quickly departed, retreating to a table on the edge of the café they had left from. He walked closer to you, enough so neither of you would have to shout over the rush of traffic.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to see you,” James said, that smile tugging on the corner of his lips as he everted his eyes. He was nervous, swaying in his stance and running a hand through his hair.

“No, it’s okay!” you replied quickly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything with your friends.”

He clenched his jaw at that, the smile fading from his face. “Friends? What friends?”

You peered around his towering shoulders to find the two men he was just standing with sitting over at a table at the café, talking to one another and stealing glances in your direction over the tops of newspapers they had just nabbed from the adjacent table. It was endearing, if anything.

“So, the guys siting over at that table pretending not to watch our every move aren’t your friends?” you asked, a slight laugh in your voice as James shook his head.

“No,” he responded shortly, though when you narrowed your eyes on him, grinning, he sighed, “yeah, ok. I know ‘em.”

You pursed your lips, glancing between James and two men sitting over at the table; the dark-skinned man with the toothy grin seemed to be thrilled to watch James fumble his way through half of a conversation, while the tall blonde one punched at his friend’s shoulder, seemingly warning him quietly to knock it off.

You sighed, noticing the way he kept glancing back at his friends, shuffling his feet like he wanted to be just about anywhere else than this conversation. You tried to ignore the free-falling feeling in your stomach.

“Look,” you started, feeling a little uneasy in your stance now, “it’s totally okay you don’t want me to know about them. I get it. You want to keep your personal life separate from work. It makes a lot of sense, especially with, um, with what you do and, um, I’m part of work, right? Different worlds. Don’t need to be bothering yourself with the boss’s wife in your free time...”

His whole body seemed to freeze and his eyes went wide.

“What? No, that’s not it at all!” he quickly explained, but he seemed to relax for a moment, glancing back towards his friends. “They don’t know what I do outside of the cover at the club. I just don’t want them catching wind.”

You nodded, knowing full well how that felt. A wave of relief swept through you; like a rush of water pushing away the aches and twists and breaks in your chest, leaving behind only that pleasant little tug you felt every time he walked in the room.

“You must be the new guy!” a voice chimed from behind you and you nearly flinched from the shock of it.

Speak of the damn devil.

Peter was suddenly at your side, a little out of breath as he looked James over, wide eyed and grinning. “Holy cow. He really is all muscle, huh?”

You shoved Peter hard in the side, cheeks flushing with heat as James laughed a little under his breath.

“I thought you were gonna stay on the other side of the street until I was done?”

“Got bored,” he shrugged, pushing you aside and turning to James. “So! What’s the likelihood you’ll let me sneak into the Lernaean? I’ve got an in with the owner and Y/n never lets me get anywhere near that place. Tell me you’re cooler than my cousin, man, I’m beggin’ you.”

You must have stopped breathing because your lungs felt like they were on fire. Peter had never been so brazen as to bypass your carefully constructed boundaries like that, but then again, he’d never met anyone from Hydra before. It was your mistake to confide in him about the strange new ‘bouncer’ with the blue eyes and the unexpected appreciation of fiction. Peter was curious by nature and he just liked seeing you happy.

James must have sensed your distress because he raised a brow at you, but your jaw was wired shut. Peter couldn’t know about this world. You had to keep him out of it. You tried to convey that to James with a simple glance, but he didn’t owe you anything. What would he care if this lanky kid knew about Hydra and the world you lived in? He was still Hydra himself and you had to constantly remind yourself of that.

“Please, man,” Peter begged. “It’ll make Flash so jealous and I need a win over that jerk.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, kid,” James replied. Peter let out a very dramatic groan and it got James laughing. “It’s not a good place for a minor to be hanging out, anyway. Listen to your cousin.”

The fear didn’t escape you, even as Peter seemed to let the topic go. You liked James, that much you were able to admit to yourself, but did you trust him enough to protect Peter from Brock’s world... you weren’t sure.

Trust wasn’t so much a step as it was a cascading waterfall into an abyss. It didn’t come easy to you.

“Fine. But I’m not giving up that easily,” Peter huffed, folding his arms over his chest. He caught sight of the watch on his wrist and pouted. He turned to you. “I should head home anyway.”

You nodded. “Okay, I’ll walk yo--”

“No, you won’t,” Peter argued with a massive smile. “I know you still have stuff to do before you head home. I’m fine on my own, you know that.”

You did. Didn’t mean you liked it.

“Besides,” Peter continued, that cheeky grin tugging on his face, “I’m sure Mr. Karpov here wouldn’t mind escorting you the rest of the way.”

Your throat ran dry. “T-That’s entirely unnecessary... Peter.”

You sent him a glare but it only made him laugh harder as he started to back away down the sidewalk. He winked and quickly turned his shoulder and jogged down the remainder of the block just to deprive you of the chance to argue back. The little shit.

Spinning back around to James with an anxious grimace on your face, you quickly held your hands up to apologize but he was laughing to himself, causing you to lose your train of thought.

“I really don’t mind, you know,” he said, and of course he didn’t, because he simply couldn’t make it easy to disregard that nervous feeling in your stomach when he looked at you.

“It’s super boring,” you warned and he shook his head with a smile, some stray pieces of hair falling into his face. Damn that smile of his.

“What are we doing?” he asked, like it wasn’t even a second thought.

“There’s a café a few blocks from here,” you started, carefully watching his face for signs that he was surely making fun of you or appeasing you to be polite, but came up empty. “They sell paintings by local artists and I’ve been wanting to replace this godawful modern abstract Brock’s interior designer hung in one of the spare rooms. He wouldn’t notice anyway, don’t you think?”

James shrugged, a nodding slightly as he chuckled. “I don’t suppose he would.”

You chewed on the edge of your lip, gesturing for him to follow you down the street and he did so without hesitation.

There were only a few minutes of silence, of walking side by side with hands tucked carefully into jacket pockets and side stepping pedestrians with their noses stuck in their phones, before you worked up the courage to say something.

“Peter doesn’t know about our world,” you said suddenly, keeping your eyes trained ahead of you, scared that if you even looked at him, you’d lose your nerve. “I work really hard to keep it that way, so if you could-- if you could avoid mentioning to Brock that I was with him today, I would – I would really appreciate that. You know how Brock can be; always trying to recruit kids on the street to push his product and I don’t-- I don’t want Peter anywhere near--”

“You have my word,” James said simply, genuinely, and you let out a heavy exhale that released like flood gates. “No reason to tell the boss what I do on my days off and who I run into, right?”

You nodded, a little lost for words. “Right.”

You paused at a stop light, stealing glances at him as he mumbled a soft apology to the elderly woman who was attempting to push past him to get to the front of the sidewalk. She was uneasy on her feet and using her walking cane as weapon as she clicked it against his ankles and he quickly stepped out of her way. He winced, rubbing at his right ankle with the back of his left shoe.

As the light turned green and the old lady pushed past, shoving a few other pedestrians out of her way, you turned back to James, grinning so wide it hurt in your cheeks. He was chewing on his lip.

“This could really damage my rep, huh?”

“Just a little,” you laughed and you were certain if your hands weren’t shoved deep into the pockets of your jacket to hide from the cold, you may have offered your hand to him. Just instinctively. His hands were so big, they seemed warm, safe.

“I finished 451, by the way,” he said as the two of you rushed to cross the street before the light turned again.

“What’d you think?”

“Never as good as the first time,” he shrugged but there was still a semblance of that smile on his lips. “Still pretty great though. Didn’t even spill coffee on it or anything.”

“I suppose I should be impressed, considering the way you treated Hemingway,” you laughed, shoving at his arm with your elbow, and though a hit like that would have had Peter stumbling a few paces, James barely even flinched, but he did start to laugh.

“Come on now, you know I was in high school when I last touched that thing and you can’t trust a teenage boy with shit,” he teased and you found yourself grabbing onto his arm for support from that laughs making your unsteady on your feet. He didn’t seem to mind at all, not even as you suddenly realized what you were doing and quickly released him with a quick nervous brush of your hair from your eyes.

You cleared your throat, continuing to walk down the sidewalk. “I finished it last week, actually. I can return it to you tomorrow if you--”

“It was a gift,” James said simply. “Keep it. If you want, I mean. I know it doesn’t exactly fit in amongst all the first editions and fancy copies so you can get rid of it if you--”

“No! It’s, uh, it’s perfect. Thank you,” you said and he pressed his lips together to keep himself from rambling.

He was right. It certainly did stand out amongst the novels on your shelves with the cracked and broken binding, the doodles in the pages, and the stains on the cover, but it was so entirely human. It was a relief to have something of imperfection amongst masterpieces.

***

Bucky wasn’t quite sure what to make of you.

It was the most relaxed he’d ever felt on an assignment as he walked alongside you down the busy streets of Brooklyn. You tried to lead him down less crowded alleys and avoid the cross-section of tourists taking photos in the street because you noticed the way he tugged at the bridge of his cap to pull over his eyes but it was near impossible. You must have mistaken his attempts at concealing his identity in a part of the city that knew him well for anxiety around the bustle of people.

It was sweet, he thought, that you were observant enough for things like that and tried to make it easier on him without saying a word. You’d give him silly excuses to travel down abandoned streets and act like it was you that wanted the space away from the crowd, but he knew you were doing it for him.

You told him about the café you liked to visit with the family you’d grown to know well over the years and the bagel joint a few blocks away that Bucky spent many years grabbing breakfast at as a teenager. You talked like you knew the owners, spent time with them and caught up on their weeks when you waited for your orders, and somehow that didn’t surprise Bucky at all.

He felt an ease by your side he’d never felt in all his years in undercover work. He was used to be on edge, to watching his every move and purposefully concealing parts of himself to create firm boundaries between his cover and himself.

But not with you.

The rare moments he spent alone with you were the only times he felt like Bucky Barnes, even under the guise of James Karpov.

But he still had a job to do.

You were smiling, telling him about a pain-in-your-ass student from your time teaching at Columbia and he could tell how much you missed it. There was a brightness in your eye, a flicker of nostalgia, of loss, and he hunched his shoulders against the cold with a steady breath.

“Why’d you quit?” he asked when you’d finished your story. Your smile fell away quickly and he nearly regretted asking. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean, it sounds like you really loved what you did. With all the books you collect and all, figured you’d quite enjoy an outlet with people who are as obsessed with fiction as you are.”

That got a slight laugh out of you, but it was tense. Your eyes were on the sidewalk, jaw clenched.

“Oh, I… um…” you were struggling to come up with an answer, one to bullshit to him. You weren’t ready to trust him and he should have known better than to ask so soon. “I stepped down when I got married. Brock has more than enough money. I don’t need to work anymore.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t want to,” Bucky offered because part of him simply just wanted you to know that not every man would isolate you from the things you loved and demand you give your entire life to him. The other part, the one screaming in the back of his head, knew that validating you like this, giving you the support you so clearly craved, would only build on that trust; trust he would need to use you as an accessory to bring Hydra to ash.

He hated that part of him. He never used to.

You nodded, chewing on your lip. “Doesn’t mean I can.”

He changed the subject quickly after that.

He knew well enough that it wasn’t a good sign that he was putting your feelings over his commitment to the job. On any other assignment with any other target, he would have pressed harder, would have asked how you met Rumlow and why you married him at all if this was the life you’d end up in, but he bit his tongue.

You were talking about a local kid’s high school musical you wanted to attend and suddenly you were smiling again. The tension left Bucky’s chest and he felt at ease, pushing aside the nagging voicing in the back of his head, reminding him why he was stationed next to you in the first place.

It seemed to quiet down the longer he walked with you, the more he stole glances at your smile, the more his stomach seemed to twist to pleasant knots whenever you look at him.

***

“What do you think of this one?” you asked, pulling his attention back to the painting hanging above two teenage girls huddled around a single laptop, sharing a pair of headphones as they struggled to contain their laughter.

The painting you were looking at was filled with reds and oranges, yellows and dark blue, soft brush strokes in gentle waves across the frame; it looked like a sunset, warm and comforting. It was in stark contrast to the cold and isolating nature of the house and he supposed it was why you liked it.

“It’s nice,” he said. He wasn’t as attuned to the arts as you were, but he knew it was nicer than the one you were trying to replace. It was one that made you smile. That was enough, he thought.

“Think Brock will be mad if he finds out I’m replacing a $50,000 painting with one done by...” you squinted your eyes, leaning in closer to read the tag, “a lovely young art major named Wanda at NYU?”

“Not if he never notices it.” He winked, nudging your arm.

You smiled, the lines of it wrinkling up by your eyes and Bucky had a hard time tearing his gaze away from you as you politely waved over the owner and pointed to the painting on the wall. 

Bucky leaned against the counter, watching from a distance as you conversed with the owner for a few minutes, and after a while, he gasped, staring at you with wide eyes. You must have told him how much you were willing to pay for the piece.

Steve and Sam were going to rip him a new one at the next meet up, he was sure of it. There was no way they didn’t catch on to how easily he retreated back to Bucky Barnes, highly capable FBI special agent and nervous wreck amongst pretty women, from James Karpov, enforcer to the world’s deadliest mafia.

You turned back to him, raising a thumbs up with the biggest smile on your face he’d ever seen as the owner moved to take down the painting. You were practically giddy with joy and he found himself smiling until his cheeks hurt, even long after you turned away to start writing the check.

He was such a goner.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot

[oneoftheextras]

Colour Changer | two

masterlist | tip jar

warnings: +18, jealousy, verbal fighting, alcohol, angst & bit o’ drama (also endeavour if that needs to be put as a warning)

word count: 4.4k

part 1 | part 2 |

Things were good with Keigo for a while, when you both had a day off of work you would spend hours watching movies and doing all the couplely things that you would roll your eyes to.

That was before he stopped turning up to your dates, before he stopped sitting at the bar during your shifts to help them go by quicker, and before he no longer replied to your texts.

It had been 3 weeks since you heard from him, his last response to you was “Yeah” and nothing else. You had called and text him multiple times since, but he stopped reading them in the first week.

It was exactly 3 days ago when you sent him one last text asking if you were over and he hadn’t responded - you could only take that as a ‘yes’. 

The thought of something happening to him during a patrol crossed your mind, but you’d seen through social media and the news that he’d been going out to parties and had been seen recently. There was no excuse you could have given him, he was ignoring you.

Trying to savour the last of your pride, you blocked his number. You weren’t interested in anything he had to say.

At least you still had your job. You’d actually picked up more shifts at the bar since your ‘break up’ to try and keep yourself busy, there was something about spending time alone in your apartment that reminded you of him.

It hurt, you weren’t going to lie to yourself, it probably hurt more than it should have done. But this was the first time you had let down your guard for someone, and this was how they treated you.

You tried not to think about it.

It was your 9th consecutive shift at the bar and some of your regulars had started to notice that you were working more than normal, as well as your boss.

“You working more shift’s has actually improved our business, a lot of the customers are showing up more just because you’re here more often” they had said before the start of your shift, then they proceeded to slide your pay check across the table to you.

When you opened it up and saw that your pay rate had increased, you opened your mouth to ask if there was a mistake, you didn’t want them on your ass about it later down the line.

“You earned it” they said, giving you a pat on the back as they left the bar in your hands. It was a Thursday night, so you were in charge of a small team, mainly first year college kids trying to pay rent.

This shift was going on as normally as any other, when 10pm struck the normal crew of Heroes strolled in, probably wanting to relax from their hard day of patrols and fighting.

“Endeavour, you’re looking as happy as ever” you joked with the man sitting at the bar, he grumbled slightly as you instinctively started making his usual. “What’s got you looking extra gloomy today?” you asked him, just wanting some conversation out of someone over the age of 18.

“Paperwork” he mumbled before taking the freshly made drink from your hands and knocking it back, apparently it had really been a bad day. “Oh, ew” you tried to sympathise with him, “We’ve got this whole charity Gala coming up soon and for some reason it’s fallen on me to organise it” by the time he had finished explaining he had finished his drink.

Almost like a conveyer belt, as soon as the glass touched the counter, you had already scooped it up and started giving him a refill. “Actually that reminds me-” he said, wiping away the residue of alcohol that had fallen onto his beard “-are you free this Saturday?” he made eye contact with you, something Endeavour rarely did. You felt a chill go down your spine.

Mentally going through your calendar, you remembered your boss forcing you to take the weekend off, something about labour law and you not being legally allowed to work that many days.

“I might be” you side eyed him as you put his second drink down, “Why? Are you trying to get me alone?” you casually raised an eyebrow at him, it had been so long since you had flirt with anyone, the feeling was strange but not so completely alien to you.

To your surprise, a deep chuckle and a slight smile came out of him, “Someone else has organised the catering and they’re insisting they bring their own bartender”, as soon as he said the last word you knew where this was going, “I don’t trust them, I’d rather have someone I know is capable” he never broke eye contact with you.

Immediately you were trying to think of an excuse to say no, you wished you had said you were working “I-” you started but was interrupted “Hawks will be there-” now it was your turn to interrupt him by groaning “Please don’t talk to me about him” you rolled your eyes.

Honestly, it was the first time you had heard his name since everything, “I thought you guys had a thing going on?” Endeavour asked, yet again, finishing his drink - you had no idea where he put all that alcohol. “Yeah, well, so did I. Until he ghosted me” you weren’t exactly sure why you were being so open with the number one Hero, but here you were.

“I’m sorry” he sounded as though he actually meant it, if you weren’t already looking at him, you would have doubted it left his mouth. “I still need someone, and with you I’d know the event was going to be a success, I’ll pay you more than you get here” his tone was still soft, as though he was walking on glass, but he knew what he wanted.

Poking your tongue out between your lips to wet them before you spoke, you feigned cockiness “Actually, I just got a raise, apparently people come here to see me”, before you had even finished your sentence, he had raised an eyebrow as though you were insulting him.

“Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it” straightened his back as though now that he was talking business the niceties were gone. “Double a shift’s wage? That’s not worth-“ he cut you off, “Double your yearly, for one night” he folded his arms.

If you had been drinking something, you’d have spat it out, but instead your eyes flickered in disbelief and your mouth parted slightly.

Smirking, knowing he’d basically won you over already, he wrote down the details on a napkin and handed it to you along with 50 thousand Yen - before you could question it, he spoke up “It’s a black suit event so get something nice for yourself”.

He didn’t wait for confirmation before changing the subject, at least he kept you company for the rest of the night.

You’d taken Endeavour’s advice and went shopping for a new black dress for the Gala, you had to at least look the part even if you didn’t want to be there. The dress you decided on was tight and hugged you in all the right places, it was very flattering, you had debated on whether or not to go for a nice dress, but you didn’t want to waste the money he’d given you.

Before you could really prepare yourself, you were setting up your space in the huge Gala hall. You’d turned up early so you could add some finishing touches to your bar before all the Heroes started turning up, you’d be more efficient if you knew where every type of alcohol was.

You’d taken the liberty of bringing some of the cocktail shakers from your work so you were familiar with the tools, but they had already supplied you with enough for a small team. Although, when the clock rolled around to 10 minutes before the Heroes were supposed to turn up, there was no sign of any other bartenders.

If Endeavour had hired you and only you, he was going to get an earful, Number One Hero or not.

That was exactly what he had done.

At first you slightly panicked, wondering how the hell you were going to manage so many orders all at once, but there were about 30 Champagne Waitresses making their rounds on the floor that kept everyone away from you.

Not to say that you weren’t extremely busy, but you were able to serve the Heroes fast enough that you were able to put on a bit of a performance, doing your normal tricks of tapping the cocktail shaker and changing the liquid contents as it was being poured into people’s glasses.

Like normal, the onlookers were amazed.

It still befuddled you that in a world of crime-fighting Heroes, someone who could change colours was something to gape at. Your quirk was more for show than practicality really.

When the majority had some type of alcoholic drink in their hand, the speeches started, everyone had stopped what they were doing to listen to the grey haired man talk about the charity that this whole thing was for and give a list of thank you’s that seemed to go on forever. 

Meanwhile, you decided to utilise this time to clean down your bar and restock some of the empty bottles, you weren’t quite sure what was going on with Gang Orca but he’d nearly finished a whole bottle of vodka by himself so you were keeping an eye on him. He seemed completely fine with no sign of intoxication, maybe his huge form was absorbing the alcohol.

You were sure as soon as this presentation had finished you were going to be swamped, even you were feeling the need for a drink, and oh boy were you right.

The moment the dim lights were brought back up and the music was turned back on there wasn’t a single space by the bar that wasn’t full. You expected people to start getting impatient because they were having to wait for their drinks, but strangely they were more than happy to wait and chat to you and each other, the amount of tips you were getting tonight would be enough to pay your rent for 2 months.

After the swarm of people were served and you had a second to breathe, you froze, golden eyes staring awkwardly at you “Shot of tequila” he bluntly said, he didn’t even have the manners to ask like everyone else was. You gave him a similarly cold response by just nodding and putting the shot glass on the metal surface with a little bit too much force and pouring the golden liquid into it, you also gave him a wedge of lime and gave him the salt shaker.

Without saying anything, he handed you the money and took his shot. You both seemed to breathe a breath of relief when the Number One Hero parted the line of people and approached the bar, you smiled maybe too much upon seeing him.

“Endeavour!” Hawks exclaimed when he saw his partner, “Have a shot with me!” he continued and you instinctively started preparing his normal tumbler of whiskey. Enji grumbled at the young heroes request, you would have died on the spot if you saw Endeavour do a shot.

After placing the his empty glass on the wood in front of him, you quickly washed your hands in the miniature sink the event space had provided you, dried them on your small towel, and scooped up three cubes of ice.

Both men looked at you with intent, you had served them enough for them to know this wasn’t your normal routine.

You allowed one cold cube to run down your palm and to the tip of your fingers, the second before it left your touch, you turned the white object into a gorgeous red. Uncurling your pinkie and ring-finger, you let the other two pieces do the same thing - changing the second one to orange and then the last one to yellow.

A small crowd of a few customers were ogling at what you were doing as though they had never seen it before, or it may have been because someone was paying attention to the Number One Hero despite everyone’s fear of him.

It was nice to see him smiling, but it was even better to see the faint grimace on Keigo’s face. Good, you thought. After the way he treated you, you wanted him to know what he was missing.

Endeavour reached out for the glass but before he could grab hold of it you slapped his hand playfully, you heard a few faint gasps in the miniature crowd that had formed, and a couple of terrified glances towards the Pro Hero on your behalf.

“Be patient” you smirked at him, you had to admit it to yourself, you were being very brave. You barely knew this man apart from his drink order, being so informal with him was a huge risk as you didn’t know how he would react.

He chuckled at your coyness, and your heart relaxed.

Cupping your hand in front of his face, you poured his favourite whiskey into your hand and let it run through your fingers, you held the bottle high enough so people could see the dark brown liquid flowing out of the nozzle and then quickly drizzle out between your fingers as a golden-yellow with bright red swirls. 

Once you had poured the right amount into the glass, you pushed the tumbler towards him and washed the remaining alcohol off your hand before it became sticky.

“I’m surprised he let her do that” someone mumbled a little bit too loudly, then another voice piped up “It’s not very hygienic”. Endeavour was happily sipping at his drink while Keigo was doing his best not to make eye contact with you still, this was too good of an opportunity to give up, so you mustered up all your courage and said in the most confident tone you could “It’s okay, he knows where my hands have been”.

If you weren’t mistaken, everyone inhaled sharply at the exact same time, all but Enji who side-eyed Keigo and then put his eyes back on you with a knowing glint - something told you that he knew what you were trying to do and understood his role. Maybe your hands would stop shaking sometime soon now that you knew he was going along with it.

“Thank you for the dress by the way” you added, gently placing your hand on his arm for a second before going back to serving the line of customers you had, you felt as though there was enough of an audience to make your point, “It fits you nicely” was all he added, it was more of a response than you were expecting. 

Deciding it was probably best to not push your luck too much with the flame hero, you turned your attention to the multiple pairs of eyes looking at you “What do you guys think?” doing a little twirl with what little space you had, of course the chorus of men erupted into whoops and cheers- you think you even heard Present Mic yelling “Hot” from one of the other stands.

Satisfied with the scene you had caused, you went back to pouring drinks, using all sorts of tricks you’d never been able to do before. You changed the whole bar to whatever colour the current customer wanted, even going as far as to change your own hair colour to gain praise from them. 

Honestly, you were starting to feel like your old self again, that was until you saw something small and red weave it’s way through the different pumps and towards you.

Slamming your hand down on the bar and hard as you could, you crushed the delicate feather under your force, “If I see another feather come across this line-“ you drew and invisible line across the wood with your finger “-I’ll cut you off” you said bluntly, throwing the feather back towards it’s owner. 

He opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him, “Do you want to get thrown out?”, he chuckled to himself slightly and shook his head “Like you could” his tone was playful yet arrogant, “I don’t have to” you put the emphasis on ‘I’ and shifted your gaze toward Enji who had coincidentally caught your eye, he very lightly smiled at you and gave a small gesture that you assumed was a wave.

That was the last straw, Keigo’s tone shifted and he stormed away from the bar, the entire night passed and you didn’t see him again. A part of you was glad, you didn’t have to keep looking over your shoulder, but that pit in your stomach was back, and just as you had started to feel better.

On the plus side, you didn’t have to clean and close the bar, the venue had hired some cleaners to take care of all the mess after everyone was done. Thank God.

The walk home was quiet and lonely, it was about 3am and most people had gone to sleep hours ago, so the ominous hum of streetlights really put you on edge- that, and that nervous feeling of being watched.

You tried to hurry along the uneven ground as quickly as you could, not wanting to tempt fate too much; how ironic would it have been? To be attacked by a Villain after spending an evening with Heroes.

A gust of wind blew your hair into your face and blocked your vision entirely for a few seconds, it was quickly followed by a force connecting with your back and then wrapping around your front.

You felt your feet leave the ground and the harsh whistle of wind rushing past your ears deafened you - your senses were blocked off. The wind was too loud to hear, and your hair acted like a self-inflicted blindfold, you were so disorientated that you thought you were going to be sick.

When your feet finally touched solid ground and the force holding you ease up, you stumbled forwards and fell to your knees, hands spread out in front of you. “What’s going on with you and Endeavour?” you heard a familiar voice say from behind you, you could not believe this.

“What?!” you exclaimed, aggressively turning yourself so you were now half laid down on the floor, you saw Hawk’s standing in front of his open window with the moonlight shining behind him casting a silhouette. “You kidnapped me to ask me about Endeavour?” you vocalised how ridiculous the situation was.

Hawk’s folded his arms in frustration, “You seemed pretty cosy with him earlier” he said bluntly, ��So what if I was?” you bit back, your emotions were high and you didn’t know which voice to listen to - you were pissed off beyond your control, hurt and mildly frightened.

You knew Hawk’s wouldn’t hurt you, but the amount of hate in his eyes made you question him for a moment.

“Is that how it is? You moved on from to my partner?” he sounded disgusted with you and to be completely honest you were glad, he had hurt you so much in such a short amount of time it felt as though he was getting what he deserved.

“What do you care?” you snarled at him and turned your head away, not wanting to look at him. “What do I-?” he started but interrupted himself by rubbing his hand down his face. “Of course I care!” he extended his arms towards you as you dragged yourself up off the floor and brushed the flakes of dust and dirt off your new dress.

“If you cared about me you wouldn’t have left” you mumbled to yourself, not intending for him to hear but it seems regardless of whether or not he heard, he wanted you to say it again “What did you say?!” he raised his voice, to match his aggression you raised your voice louder “If you cared about me you wouldn’t have left!”.

There was silence for a moment, no words, just the sound of heavy breathing as you both decided whether or not it was worth carrying on this subject.

“Take me home” you gave up, exasperated at the situation. All you had wanted for the last couple of weeks was to hear from Keigo, and for him to tell you that you were still together, but now that you were actually in front of him, you wanted nothing more than to disappear.

He took a few steps towards you, “No-” he forced the air out of his throat like a bullet coming out of a gun, “-Not until you admit it” he continued, his hostile tone never wavering. “Admit what?” you laughed dryly, “Are you fucking Endeavour?” he asked bluntly and your jaw almost hit the floor.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no I’m not” you answered him honestly, folding your own arms and glancing around towards the front door, if he wouldn’t take you home you would have to take yourself.

“How is it none of my business?” he snapped at you, “Because you left me!” you shouted over the top of him before he managed to finish his sentence, “I gave you every part of me and you couldn’t even be bothered to send a goodbye text” you finally let out what you felt like you had been holding onto for your whole life.

Taking a deep breath in and then with a sharp exhale you said, in a calmer tone “I’m leaving”, without giving him the option to respond you marched your way towards the apartment door.

Before you could take hold of the handle you felt your shoulder being pulled around and your body being pushed against the door, the next thing you saw were two golden eyes staring back at you .

“Let me go” you said through gritted teeth, “Not until you’ve listened to me” he was talking in a hushed voice as though all the anger and upset had left him in that instant, “I don’t want to-” you started but it was his turn to interrupt you, “You have no idea how dangerous my job is, the type of people I’m working with-” he stopped mid-sentence to glance around the room as though he was being watched.

“I was there every night, I watched you walk home from work to make sure you were okay” his voice was starting to crack and you could see water starting to well up in his bottom eye lid, “I missed you so much, but I had to keep you safe”.

Watching him come undone in front of you, you felt a pit fall in your stomach as extreme guilt flushed over you.

Your body moved without you asking it to and before you knew it your hands were wrapped in his hair and your lips were against his.

The kiss started as soft and gentle, but as soon as the shock had left his system he cupped your face in his hand and started kissing you as though it was the last time. 

Things got heated very quickly, Keigo pushed the hem of your dress up until it was bunched up at your waist and wasted no time shuffling your underwear down for you to step out of.

Unbuckling his belt like he wouldn’t live to see tomorrow, he let his jeans fall to the floor as he picked you up by your thighs and pushed you further into the door. His kisses became more erratic as he lowered you onto his cock.

The euphoria you both felt as the familiar sensation of him filling you again flooded to your brain, you gripped his shoulders tighter to try and stay stable. Instantly he started moving his hips, dragging himself in and out of you at a rapid pace.

The apartment was filled with a mixture of Keigo’s grunts, your moans and the door sounding as though it was on the brink of death. “I missed you so much” he mumbled against your neck as he dug his fingers into your bare thighs, his thrusts were ruthless and you could feel that you were getting close to your orgasm.

“I missed you too” you managed to breath out in between moans. You could feel the friction of your back rubbing against his door and you knew you would be waking up with a bruise. But you didn’t care.

Before either of you could say anything else you felt your walls clench down around him, emphasising every muscle and vein in his member, Ah, fuck” he growled, pushing himself even further into you as you let him pound you through your orgasm.

He grunted a couple of times and his mouth hung open, he moved one of his hands to hold your shoulder down as the pressure of his chest against yours held you in place. “I love you” he confessed, locking eyes with you, you were still panting from your own high so you weren’t able to respond, “I lo-” he started to say before he snapped his hips against yours and you felt him cum inside of you.

Flopping his head forward so your foreheads were touching, neither of you moved to allow the moment to last as long as it could- neither of you wanting your bubble of bliss to be popped.

“I mean it” he barely even whispered as he pulled his head away so he could look you in the eye, “I do love you” he repeated himself. Your heart leapt, your relationship hadn’t gone on long enough for either of you to have said the ‘L’ word yet.

But being away from him these last couple of weeks solidified how you truly felt, “I love you too” you smiled at him as he kissed your forehead.

Taglist:

@mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @hereticpriest @enagmaticether @anxiousgoddest @kodzu-ken @moonnei @diesinspanishbcimhispanic

#hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #colour changer #oneoftheextras

[fukurodanni]

everything stays (but it still changes)

part 1 || part 2 || PART 3

pairing: tsukishima kei x photographer!reader summary: so the same man (that broke your heart 3 years ago) accidentally gets drunk with you at a work event. how bad could it be? word count: 2.5k note: includes cursing, drunken actions. this whole thing reads a bit like a rom-com, if u haven’t gotten that by now lol

The only thing left to do after it all is to push it all into the back of your mind because you have a job to do tomorrow and you need to be well rested, so you pull the covers over yourself and hope to every deity out there that he isn’t in your dreams, too.

And funnily enough, he isn’t. You stop by for tea before the photoshoot - it’s the Thursday afterwards and Tsukishima isn’t there but you don’t have the time to question it, so you stuff your phone into your back pocket and head off. It’s in a big studio building, and the set is gorgeous, based in off-white and decked with pale yellows and citrus colors. The models seem to have been there for a while, already in makeup, but the stylist is still hanging around so maybe they haven’t been there for very long after all. They straighten a little when you greet them, easy smiles coloring their faces.

Off to business, then.

The work distracts from your wandering thoughts - the flex of Tsukishima’s hands across the table, eyes like swirling honey. It’s easy to lose yourself in the routine of it all, the ridges of a camera lens under your fingertips and the gentle click of the shutter.

Sometime after lunch and before wrapping up, you’re talking with one of the models, Mika, about how her brother is a photography major. She’s been his guinea pig for about two weeks now - you laugh gently as she jokes about how refreshing it is to be in a set that isn’t the corner of a college dorm. Incidentally, you manage not to hear the heavy click of the door behind you.

Mika’s gaze drifts behind you and you don’t think much of it until you notice it drift back to you. That’s when you hear the rest of the production crew and glance over at them, confused. They’re all standing in a little huddle.

“They’re looking for the photographer,” Mika explains, having heard a bit of the conversation.

You get up quickly and stand a little straighter. “I’m the photographer,” you announce, and immediately regret it.

Their heads all turn at once to look at you and it’s only a little unnerving but one of the heads turns out to be Kei Tsukishima and you think your jaw might have decided to glue itself to the floor in response. You realize, now, that perhaps you should have asked him to elaborate about his career. You allow yourself a split second of shock before wiping the expression and walking up to them.

You ask, very politely and not at all like you have weird tension with one of these men, what the issue is. It’s Tsukishima that addresses you, in a short, clipped tone.

“They want the color scheme changed.”

And you gape. “What, why?” you ask, completely forgetting your resolve to ignore him. “We’re finished shooting, they would have told us this beforehand - the whole thing?”

Tsukishima looks unbothered, mostly. “Didn’t reach in time, I guess.”

Part of you wants to strangle him, another part wants to strangle the client, but it’s all fine and well. The photographer’s assistant (who you haven’t talked with, in favor of doing most of the work yourself - you aren’t even sure why he was hired) cracks a joke about checking your schedule and it only serves to piss you off even more. It seems to show on your face though, and - Jun, you think - looks a little sheepish at having joked about it in the first place.

He comes up to you a moment later, after you’ve wandered back towards the set.

“I haven’t done much,” he starts in a low, nervous tone, “I feel sorta bad.” You’re unsure about where the hell he’s going with this but he only grows more nervous and it looks like it’s taking physical exertion from him:

“We could go out for drinks after. On me.”

A little voice in you wants to ask, shamelessly, if he means a date. You’re co-workers, though, and that would cross the line of professionalism, just a bit, but he keeps talking and you realize your chance to ask has probably passed.

The models, besides Mika, have long gone - and it’ll only be four or five people including yourself. It doesn’t sound so bad. And he’s offering to pay. The messenger bag is barely over your shoulder before you reply, “Okay.”

-

The bar is about as well lit as an 8pm bar should be, lights in pale yellows that, for a moment, remind you of the set. You drink, bitterly.

Everyone is loose with the alcohol and atmosphere, movements and dialogue easy. Jun, funnily enough, is the first to go - absolutely plastered and claiming otherwise. One of the production managers calls him an Uber and excuses himself as well.

Mika leaves after accidentally oversharing. The most your brain could comprehend from that spiel, drunken or not, came in the form of ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s. She makes an excuse for herself too, clearly not having expected to divulge so much.

You’re tipsy at most, having been careful with your drinks and generally reserved to keeping polite conversation. That, or it hasn’t hit you yet. (At least your tolerance is higher than Jun’s.)

Eventually, it dawns on you that you and Tsukishima are the only ones left. You haven’t noticed how much he’d drank, having spent half the night trying not to look at him. You talk to him with a warbled sort of exhaustion. Conversation seems filmy and vague and you’re not bothered by that weird date-thing anymore. You’re sure it’ll come back to you at some point, just not now.

“God, starlight,” he says, and it isn’t as much of a slur as it is a slant, because as soon as it leaves his mouth he seems to realize it. “Out of all the people who could’ve been working that set….”

He chuckles mirthlessly, but you’re frozen in your seat because the nickname falls from his lips with such ease. It is, at once, unerring and much more sobering than it has any right to be.

The rest of the bar is suddenly oceans away. “What gives you any right to call me that again?” you ask, except it comes out in a mangled, jarring breath. The familiarity of it all hits you again just thinking about it, like constellations traced across your shoulder and the warmth of a bed that isn’t yours. “M’not taking any of this starlight bullshit after the stunt you pulled.”

Tsukishima furrows his eyebrows in a semblance of anger. It comes off more like dazed confusion, but it gets the point across. “That I pulled? That was a mutual… pulling. You left me on a bench after giving me mixed signals for two hours.”

“You’re hot, okay? What the hell was I supposed to do?” You’re not thinking very hard about these responses - you’re mostly on autopilot, watching the way his fist tightens and loosens, the way he crosses his arms. Arms that spent hours snaked around you, swaying along to music so low it made it seem like you were the only two in the world who could hear.

“Thanks,” he replies bluntly.

You think about replying for a second, think about the way he’d flick your forehead, enough to calm your skin but never your heart. And then, eloquently: “Fuck off.”

You sit in silence.

It’s in the instant that you’re coming up with an excuse to leave that you hear him, quiet and somber as if you weren’t supposed to hear it at all. “I still…” Tsukishima glances at the table in front of him, fingertips gliding over glossy wood.

“Loved you,” he finishes, lamely. “Love you. Past tense. I don’t know.”  

You’re watching him unravel like this, face flushed and pointedly avoiding your gaze. Except suddenly it’s like the crack of lightning, breakneck and furious and long overdue. “Fucking what?”

“Huh?” Tsukishima raises his head.

“The hell did you dump me for, then?” Your voice comes out a little more shrill than you’d meant, a little louder and a little more brash. So be it. He looks lost for words, foggy with drink and unresolved emotion, probably.

He isn’t answering, so you prod again. “Why did you dump me if you still fucking loved me? Why is this coming out now? Motherfucker, I still loved you!”

He stares numbly, hazily. “I didn’t want to deal with it.”

You want to smack the glasses off his face.

“So what, you dealt with me for 3 years and got tired of it?”

“You know that’s not what happened.”

“You could’ve fucking talked to me. Could’ve lied to my face instead of just walking out that fucking door without an explanation. Kei.”

The look on his face is desperate, disdainful. He doesn’t want to have this conversation but goddamn are you going to force it out of him.

He glances at the other bar patrons. “Can we talk about this? Outside?”

Which is how you find yourself in Kei Tsukishima’s passenger seat at 11pm on a weekday, screaming enough profanities to scare your grandmother into an early grave.

When it’s all out of your system, the only dredges left are of simmering regret. There is no anger left to give and only the hollow, mournful feeling that you’d spent so long trying to internalize. You remember contentedness and routine being ripped out from under your feet, kicking and thrashing as it was overtaken by shame. Shame and distress and the sharpest edges of remorse - of thinking that maybe - maybe Tsuki wouldn’t have left if you had been a little more careful. That somehow, despite everything, maybe you could have convinced him to stay.

His eyes are a miserable amber under parking lot lights and maybe yours are a little watery, but he takes the silence as a cue to talk.

And god, does he talk - staring holes into his hands as he does, never once meeting your eyes - about his fears, about letting you slip through his fingers and watching you go. “Because I saw forever with you,” he says, quiet and prayerful. “I thought I saw forever and I wanted it so badly, I ran when I thought it wouldn’t come.”

Like sand in an hourglass, watching grain by grain slip past the point of return and thinking that maybe there wasn’t going to be a forever - and if it ended, it would be on his own terms, running to put effort into everything that wasn’t you, shameful and laden with guilt. His hand is barely shaking in his lap and against it all, you want to take it in yours. It takes a special, sobering kind of talking down to restrain the urge.

And then, wonder of wonders, he apologizes.

Tsuki apologizes, only just managing to meet your eyes, nervous and different and new. For the misunderstandings and the endless fear and the regret of not having realized it sooner. You laugh, a wet and broken thing, and apologize too. It’s barely midnight and you’re still in the parking lot but the buoyant, hopeful feeling in your chest tells you that there are only two people in the world right now; only two that matter.

-

You wake up in a hotel bed.

It takes you about two seconds to absolutely lose your shit before realizing you’re still dressed and by that fact, nothing eventful happened. Kei sits next to you, scrolling idly on his phone and it hits you all at once - how content you feel, sitting quietly with him - keeping watch as the sun kisses his hair into shining ivory, glasses glinting in the light.

You feel as if heavy wires of tension have been removed from your limbs. They aren’t so leaden anymore but lighter and easier. Kei glances at you.

“Morning.”

You blink at him. “How the fuck did we get here?” and then, belatedly, “G’morning.”

He chuckles lightly and you consider, momentarily, that this is all a dream. Much too idyllic for your taste, but he explains that it was the most convenient option after a long crying session because you were in no state to drive and it was right there, anyway, and he had the money. He sounds a little sheepish by the end, but it’s all the more endearing. None of this makes sense, anyway.

You order room service - not breakfast, he has a habit of saying ‘good morning’ during odd hours of the afternoon. (A part of you wants to ask where he picked it up, and the other already knows the answer.) And talk all the while, same as before. You feel very grown up sitting with him like this, talking over bagels and tea having hashed everything out in a half-drunken therapy session the night before.

Part of it is so, so familiar. The way he doesn’t quite grin when he’s trying to hide it - the corners of his mouth turn up in an almost-smile and his eyes light with mirth. Another is new - two adults who happen to know each other, talking about everything and nothing at all. It feels a bit like a first date and it fills you with something rare and electric.

He has to drop you off at the bar again, walking you to your car and cracking a joke about the absurdity of it all. It’s about as awkward as it sounds on paper, but it’s perfect and good and you look up at him with new eyes. You’re opening the car door when Kei calls for you in a rushed, harried tone.

“Go out with me,” he says, halfway across the parking lot. “It doesn’t have to be with forever in mind but I’d like a second chance. If you’re willing to take a second chance.”

“Not forever?” you ask, and it’s supposed to come out joking. You take a few steps closer and watch as he does, too.

“Focus on what’s happening now. No running away from what I think the future holds.”

“Sounds good. Sounds solid.”

“Yeah. Good.”

A beat of silence. You’re closer than you were a second ago; you can see the smudge on the edge of his lens where you jokingly smacked him earlier. Your heart does a funny, acrobatic sort of thing.

His mouth opens, a sentence starts and ends. He tries again.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What? Ye- mmph.”

He tastes like 2pm breakfast food and black tea with too much lemon in and you melt like sugar in the rain. He kisses like home, warm and comfortable and easy. It makes you think that no matter how much has changed - how much you’ve grown - there’s a distinctness in Kei Tsukishima that will always feel familiar. Home after a lifetime away, coming up for air after hours underwater. Maybe it’ll always be like that with him, no matter how much time goes by.

You can’t wait to find out.

#thank u for sticking all the way thru if u did! #big smooches #tsukishima kei #tsukishima imagine #tsukki #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu one shot #tsukishima fic #emu writes #my writing