#anyways i shall do another round of musical thanks

[straight4joekeery]

Teach Me How To Love In Your Own Lyrics

(Part 10)

Prev Part one

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Once again, the adrenaline (among other things) was running through their veins. This show was particularly nerve-racking, after his little speech. Now, he wasn’t 100% sure, but he didn’t think Steve was here. Plus, he probably would have spotted a polo amongst all the leather. Robin, on the other hand, was here. She had the tendency to run her mouth a bit, so even if Steve wasn’t here, he’d know what he had said. Which was scary. But it didn’t matter. Even if it did, he had said it first. As he approached the last song, he started to really hope he wasn’t here. God. Who writes a song about someone, makes it popular, and doesn’t even tell the person? Creepy. He knew Steve would catch on immediately if he heard it. As he strummed the last note and everyone said their little ending bit, he ran. He was excited. Mainly nervous. But very excited.

“Dude, try to stay on the ground, okay?” He’d been bouncing up and down while carrying their stuff to the bus.

“Sorry, just excited.”

“We could tell. Now go put this up,” Jeff said, handing him a speaker, “then you can find your lover.” Normally, Eddie would make a comment or roll his eyes, but he currently did not have the time. He sprinted (probably the fastest he’s ever gone on foot in his life) to the bus and set the speaker down. He paced to the front of the bus to grab the gift bags and his personal bag, and fled. He walked back and forth looking for someone he knew. Steve, Robin, Vickie, literally anyone who looked like they didn’t belong at a metal concert. He tried to stay closer to the back of the building, so he wouldn’t get harassed. Fortunately, only one girl noticed him.

“Eddie!” Someone yelled from behind him. He immediately knew the voice.

“Robin!” He spun around and ran towards her. He wasted no time (besides setting down the bags as carefully as humanly possible) in giving her a bone-shattering hug.

“That was amazing!”

“Thanks!” He said pulling away, “Wow. I’m back. I am so happy to be back.”

“We’re happy for you to be back!” It took him a moment for him to process the “we”. As in someone else was here. He turned around to see Steve. And oh my lord. No wonder he didn’t spot him. At this point, he was just shamelessly gawking at the man. He looked… hot. He looked really hot.

He slowly approached him, like he would disappear if he moved too quickly. Steve giggled at the reaction, “Hi Eddie.” Yep. He’s real. Good. He practically tackled him as wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck.

“Hi,” he backed up for a split second to admire him. “I’m so glad you came. I missed you.”

“Really?” Steve whispered.

“Yeah really,” he said, moving away (for real this time).

“Well, I’m glad you’re here too.”

“Jesus Christ, get a room,” Robin rolled her eyes walking around them. She turned around when she noticed they weren’t following, “You want a place to sleep tonight or not?” she said, jingling Steve’s keys.

“Woah! Nope. Not happening. Give them to me,” he said, running to her and reaching for the keys. Eddie grabbed his bags and followed behind.

“Wasn’t going to. Just wanted you to hurry up,” she said, throwing the keys directly at his face (which with some miracle, he caught).

“Hey, Robin? Where’s Vickie?”

“Sick,” she said, giving Steve the weirdest smirk. There’s a story behind that, he knows. He doesn’t want to dig for it though. They all decided to skip to the car (bad idea by the way. Every single one of them fell at least once) to entertain themselves. Once they made it, Eddie immediately sprawled out in the backseat.

Since Steve was driving, he figured he could give Robin his little gift now. “Oi! Duck beak!”

“That’s a new one. How creative,” she said flatly, “yes Edison?”

“Here,” he said, tossing the bag gently to the passenger seat. He watched as Robin slowly opened it, glancing back at Eddie every 5 seconds.

“Oh. Thanks?” He saw a hoodie with a rainbow on it when he was in Seattle, and immediately bought it for her. Steve glanced over and bursted out laughing.

“Y’a know, when I saw it I knew I had to get it for you. I feel like it really represents you as a person,” he said while making dramatic hand gestures.

“Ah,” she sighed before breaking out in a huge grin, “it’s so truly lovely. Thank you, Eddie.”

“My pleasure birdie. And Steve I do have something for you so don’t get all jealous. I do not advocate distracted driving.” It was nice. The faint music coming from the radio, the breeze going through his hair as he rested his head against the car door, and the presence of Steve and Robin. It was nice being with them again. He missed this. “So what did y’a do when I was gone? Let’s see, on a scale of one to ten how much did you guys miss me?”

“About a twelve,” Steve said at exactly the same time as robin said, “easy, negative twenty five .”

“Aww, thanks Stevie,” Steve’s face twisted in a really weird smirk, grin, I’m-trying-really-hard-not-to-cry thing that Eddie honestly didn’t want to know what meant. “And Robin, wow, really know the way to make a man feel good.”

He spent the rest of the ride rambling (Robin style) about his shows. He beamed at every little detail of the tour so far. (“I swear! She was there! Phone Cates in the flesh!” “There’s no way. Because if you did I’d have an autograph in my hand right now.” “Yeah and if we even believed you for a second you would be sleeping on the streets tonight and you know it,” Robin added.)

“Here we are!,” Steve announced as they pulled up to their house. They all hopped out of the car and walked (in Robin’s case, skipped again, because absolutely nothing could go wrong) to the door.

“Damn Buckley, I really believed that you’d change that wallpaper by the time I got back. Tsk tsk,” Eddie sighed as they walked into the house. Their wallpaper wasn’t that bad. It only was used in the walkway (which was barely four feet). It was a deep blue with white specs that were supposed to be stars.

“What’s wrong with the wallpaper?,” Robin gasped “The old lady who lived here was, like, super into ‘witchy stuff’, and said it brought good luck for whatever reason,” she turned around and held out her hand, “She took one look at my palm and told me that I was going to die in a quote ‘very interesting and eventful way’. So that's fun I guess.”

“Super fun,” Steve muttered as he pushed her through the entryway.

“Awww,” Robin said looking at the couch. They looked over to see Vickie dead asleep on the couch, with a cat (oh my god is this little thing, Ozzy?!?!) on top of her. He didn’t know why she thought it was cute, she was snoring. Loudly (that is very hypocritical coming from him). “If either of you wakes her, or the cat, you will not live to see another day.”

“Dude it’s my cat,” he walked over to the couch slowly and tried to take the cat.

“Steven,” Roin hissed, “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“Jesus, sorry,” he muttered, “That's not even my name.”

“Hey, uh, Robin?” Eddie whispered.

“Yes, Edward?”

“Also not my name. but, um, wasn’t I supposed to sleep on the couch?”

“Oh. Yeah. you can crash with steve. Or me I guess if you really want. But fair warning I will probably kick you. Several times. Repeatedly. You will be-”

“I think I get the memo, Rob. I'll sleep with Steve, it's fine.” He realized his poor wording when

Steve choked on air. “Is that so?” Robin raised her eyebrows.

“No! I’m not going to sleep with Steve! I meant I was going to sleep in bed with Steve. Wait- no. I was going to go to sleep while Steve also slept. In the same bed.” Steve was bright red, and he knew he probably was too. Robin just stared at him with a wide grin. He groaned, “Nevermind. I am going to bed. Whether Steve follows is up to him,” he said waving a hand at him.

He walked into the room and set his things down. He could hear Steve and Robin trying to quietly argue, so he quickly changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt while he had the room to himself. He felt like he needed to do something to pass the time or he was going to go insane. He grabbed his stuff and started digging through it. He reached for Steve’s gift and set it on the bed next to him, then continued to search. He finally landed on a pack of wet wipes and moved to the standing mirror. He started (very aggressively for no reason other than he thought it would make it go by faster) removing his eye makeup. He always ends up smearing it somehow all over his face, just making it worse. 12 wipes later, his face was back to its natural beauty. He then proceeded to look himself up and down (full head nod and everything) at least 15 times. He looks like a rat. A literal rat. And oh no, Steve can not see him like this. He tossed and ran his fingers through his hair until it looked halfway (keyword: halfway) decent. He smiled at himself in the mirror, straightening his clothes trying to make himself look presentable. As he was doing so, he realized he hadn’t brushed his teeth today. At all. He breath checked in his hand and Jesus Christ. He could hear the two settle down outside the room so he didn’t have time to do anything. Unless…? He ran to his bag and grabbed the first thing he thought could work. Which happened to be perfume (shut up, cologne smells absolutely horrid and it will be going nowhere near his body). He uncapped it as he heard Steve approach the door. He panicked and sprayed it directly into his mouth. ohmygodohmyGODjesusfuckingchrist that burns like a bitch. He threw the bottle down and sprung up as Steve walked in.

…

“...Hi?”

“Are you okay?” Steve said, slowly approaching him. Wow. kinda unfair that this man can just walk up to him looking like that while he looks like a RAT.

“Yup mhm never better,” he said, red-eyed. “How have you been?” he said in an attempt to change the topic.

“Alright, I guess. Lonely.” He sounded so sad. He wished he could just kiss him square on the mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. it's not your fault. Plus, I guess having a hypothetical cat has helped,” he giggled. He blushed and looked at the ground before stepping closed to Eddie, “Hey, I, uh, really really loved that song. Invisible man right?”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to say that. It was super weird of me to do, and I didn’t even tell you! Way out of line. I feel horrible Turing your confession into a song Steve I’m really-”

“Stop. I meant it. It was- beautiful honestly. Really poetic too. Im kinda honored,” he blushed, “It’s also a great ego booster to know I was inspiration for a top selling song.” Thirteen actually. Thirteen songs based off this man. (4 of which were written purely about his ass.)

“I need that on an award or something. ‘Eddie Munson is so cool and poetic’- Steve Harrington, 1993”

“Now that’s a bit of a stretch,” he grinned, “Oh right! I have something for you,” he walked over and opened the small closet to pull out a bag.

Oh. Steve hadn’t even left yet he bought him a gift. He pointed at his chest, “For me? Really?”

“Yes really. Here open it,” he said, placing the bag in front of him on the bed.

“Wait, here,” he turned around and grabbed Steve’s gift, “For you kind sir,” he said bowing down.

He laughed and grabbed the bag, “Why thank you!”

“You should go first. It’s stupid and I honestly don’t think you’ll like it.”

“Doubt it,” he sat on the bed next to Eddie and took the tissue paper out of the bag. He had gotten him a bunch of patches for his vest.

“I know it’s dumb. I got one at every stop on the tour because they all had them for some reason. I just saw one and remembered seeing the vest one day at your house and thought, ‘hey maybe Steve wears it cause why else would he have kept that nasty jacket’, and here you are so you know-”

“Eddie,” he shushed him. He was beaming at the gift and looked like he was on the verge of tears. “I really love it, thank you.” Steve held his arms out and wrapped him in a tight hug. This is what he really missed. Steve’s presence. His warmness. The way anytime he walked into a room he immediately felt happy. Like he could breathe again.

“Uh yeah of course. It suits you, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Steve whispered pulling back.

“Definitely,” he grinned. “I’m really loving this whole look,” he winked.

“I hoped so. Robin convinced me to go ‘further out than normal’, you know? I mean like with the fake ear piercing and stuff,” he said gesturing to the stick-on gemstones on his face.

“What do you mean ‘than normal’?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, I guess I- uh- dress like this sometimes. To go to bars and stuff.”

“Damn Steve, you’ve been holding out on me.”

“Lucky for you, I kinda like it. Now, I believe it’s your turn,” he pushed the gift even closer to him, “and please be honest with me. If it’s too much or too weird let me know and we can act like this never happened.” He gave Steve a questioning look before grabbing the first item on top (which by the way, first?? There are way too many gifts in here. Now he feels horrible. This man is way too good for him).

When he pulled it out it was a smaller bag. “Hmm let me guess, is it another bag?” he said while he pulled the drawstrings.

“Shut up and open it.” Inside the bag was a pick. It was painted with a wide variety of colors and what looks like an attempt to draw a dragon.

He laughed to try to cover up the fact that he was probably about to cry, “Stevie, it’s amazing. Very beautiful, you should be an art teacher.”

“Thanks, I’ll talk to the principal.” Eddie laughed and stared at the ceiling to blink back his tears (which if he was completely honest, were still partly from the perfume). “Dude, don’t get all mushy, this is only the first one.”

“Yeah, yeah it’s only going to get worse from here.” He reached down into the bag and pulled out a mixtape. He flipped it over and read Steve’s track list on the back. “Oh Harrington, these songs are… horrendous,” he looked over at him with a smirk.

“I know you love it,” he said leaning closer and returning the smirk.

He sighed, “I do. Thank you.”

“Mhm,” he nodded back at the bag.

“You spoil me, man.”

“You deserve it.” Jesus. Okay, now he’s blushing. Like an embarrassing amount. The next item he pulled out was a ring tray, which had also been beautifully painted. “That goes with the next gift,” he pointed at the bottom of the bag.

He looked in the bag and saw that it was a ring box. A very expensive-looking ring box. He pulled it out and held it in his hand, “you proposing already?”

“Nah, feel like I should wait ‘til at least the second date for that.”

“Are you asking me out? And already promising a second. Wow. Power move,” he joked. Because that’s all he could do right?

Steve blushed, “if that’s okay, yeah I am.”

Is this real life? He pinched himself before wincing. Yep. Real. Wow. “Uh- yeah of course. I’d really like that.” He smiled.

“Good,” Steve reached forwards and opened the box inside Eddie’s hands. The ring was absolutely beautiful.

“Steve- I- I don’t know what to say,” he stuttered, “it’s perfect. I love it.” I love you. He was definitely crying now. Every last detail of the ring and the man that gifted it was perfect. In every way, shape, and form.

“Here,” Steve said, taking the ring from Eddie and grabbing his hand, “we should finish this proposal off right.” He slid the ring onto Eddie’s finger (and he wasn’t, couldn’t be, disappointed that it wasn’t the ring finger). He looked at the ring on his hand before intertwining their fingers.

“Stevie,” he shook his head in disbelief.

“Ed’s?” Steve said, using his free hand to tuck Eddie’s hair behind his ear.

He couldn’t find words. He was totally blanking. He just nodded like a fool before leaning in. And he kissed him. He really, finally did. It was… magic. It was the only word that he ended up finding. It was fucking magical. Time all of a sudden wasn’t right for him. It was either too fast in the moment or really slow. Either way, he’d never know. Magic.

When they pulled away, he just shook his head again. “What toothpaste do you use?”

“What?” He asked, brain still foggy from everything that just happened.

“You taste good.” Jesus Christ. This man doesn’t have a filter. Way to kill a man my god. (If this was how he died, he’d be pleased.)

“That I will never tell.” These two weeks would not go by fast enough.

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Next

Another Eddie pov! Oh em goodness we did it. The happy little gay boys smooched. Yip yip. Is this part shorter or longer than normal? Honestly can’t tell. Thank you soso much for reading this (you’ve made it a long way, congrats ig). Ik i said I’d write another fic but honestly I don’t feel like it. But I’d love to see it written so hmu if your down with writing a crappy fic idea <3 lastly three rules of this fic: one- we don’t talk about how different the indentations are. I regret putting them in the first place, but I can’t just stop now or I’ll go insane :). Two- I am aware I overuse italicizations. Three- there is probably so many grammar and spelling errors to the point I don’t even care anymore. anyways y’all comment or reblog if you want to be tagged. I’m sorry if I didn’t tag you just lmk and I’ll add you to the list!

Tag list: @asbealthgn @queerbeansworld @bird-with-pencils @vecnuthy @artiststarme (ty for being amazing <3 u) @captain-winter-wolf-aehs @piningapplewitch @rowendyss @steve-themom-harrington @lfaewrites @azreadytodie @thequeenrainacorn @pastel-dreamscape @importanttimemachinenerd @jehneeg @swagaliciousmarie @mightbeasleep @krazyperson @milkshakeflowercreator @fando-random @bumblebeecuttlefishes @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @fluffyreturns @scheodingers-muppet @wonderland-girl143-blog @briceslayed @youaremylobster @juststeddiebrainrot @pr3ttyb0yindie @scarlet-pandrian @drips-from-breaking-bones @plasticcrotches

Jesus that’s a lot of people I’m honestly concerned

#Eddie eating perfume is so real to me #i felt like this was better in his pov #SMOOCJ #i really need therapy #idk why I said that #i have a therapist #love u Jan <3 #she doesn’t know about my ‘issues’ cough cough #but yeah would totes love a colab fic! I’d write some of it ig #if I felt like it #I’m either a) busy or b)lazy #pick your battles #anyways i shall do another round of musical thanks #tv girl! #anndddd Eyedress #and my wife #and djo duh #i just stoped censoring my cursing cause Ik y’all don’t care #now the tags that no one cares about #s4jks lyrics #steddie #robin buckley #eddie munson #Steve Harrington #eddie munson x steve harrington #steveddie #Ozzy!!!! #he’s the main character #steddie fic #stranger things

[27-royal-teas]

literally on my knees begging for the phoenix essay because it’s my all time fave fall out boy song and it makes me feel emotions on the shrimp spectrum

ok!! well!! ask and you shall receive, dear anon, your wish is my command :)) and because i love when people are excited about what i have to say and you are very nice <33 however, i will warn you, this is less of a structured essay and more of a massive infodump, so be warned !!

OK SO. THE PHOENIX. first off musically it's a fantastic song. and its actually scientifically proven that typically strings are used to increase musical tension and emotional tension so usually when you hear fast strings it means that they (the artist) want you to feel stressed, angry, or excited. We can apply this to the beginning of The Phoenix specifically because fob wants you to get hyped!!! It's their opening song for their newest album and for them, this shit is TERRIFYING. will you still want them or will you skip to another song? It's such a stark contrast to the first line of cork tree ("brothers and sisters, put this record down") because they want you to do the exact opposite of that. This is the one they want to use to hook you, to pull you in. Fall Out Boy is back, and this time they've brought even more intensity than before. They want to know: will you still be here? will you listen? these strings are not quite the old fall out boy, will you find them compelling and stick around?

andys drum work on this song is also INCREDIBLE. It's got this pounding, heavy beat. i constantly say that andy is the backbone of the band and i feel like that's more musically apparent in this song than anything. If i really want to scrounge for symbolism, I can say that by making andy's drumbeat stand out so much more in this song, the band is saying that they as a whole are more stable and reliable, just like their backbone. the drummer keeps the beat, the pace. they keep the band on track. together, the instruments (drum, strings, bass) bring the song together into a really rounded sound and it feels so FULL. there are some songs that are spiky, but this one is round all the way through.

and now that we're through with talking about the music itself, let's talk about the lyrics. i love the lyrics in this song so fucking much. it's so pete wentz and even more than that it's the most perfect song to open with. im gonna try to discuss every line and how it relates to the album and fall out boy's history at the time of release + they message they attempt to convey with this song and album. ive been wanting to make an essay on this for a while actually so thank you for giving me this ask as an opportunity to barf my stupid brain out onto tumblr

ok anyway let's start off with the first line-- "put on your war paint". this line is repeated twice: the very beginning and the very end. Why? because it's bold. this album is called save rock and roll. it is giving us a mission to accomplish from the very start. we are gearing up for a war. this is the image that is being painted of the entire album, and it starts from the very beginning- put on your war paint, prepare for battle. the first song is us (cough, the band, cough) preparing for the war as a whole. this is the intro, the gather, the plan. because we are saving rock and roll, through this album. this is the revival. we are bringing it home. this part musically is very strong and it feels like structure. we are showing here how much power and stability we have. also it makes me think of that one picture of pete putting on eyeliner

i am skipping the entire first verse for now but i will be back to it in a bit i promise! i want to talk about the chorus: “hey Youngblood/ doesn’t it feel/ like our time is running out/ im gonna change you like a remix/ then I’ll raise you like a phoenix”. we’re just going to go over the first half first because it’s kind of long. I think it’s in interesting choice, ‘Youngblood’. it kind of makes me think of mcr’s killjoys. it’s the motif, i guess— this haunting youth. ‘Youngblood’ addresses us ourselves, full of life and blood and rage. it again goes with the plot line of the album. the chorus has a paced feel, like running through a field at top speed. ‘like our time is running out’ references again the portion of ‘we were gone for so long, will you still listen?’ fall out boy’s limited time is nearly out here. they are fighting the clock. they are years older and more mature and they’ve GROWN. their time is running out and they are begging us to listen. and then my FAVORITE line, probably in this whole song. ‘I’m gonna change you like a remix, then I’ll raise you like a phoenix’. This entire album is a result of change. Folie a Deux was harshly criticized by the media and the fans because it was a change from fob’s norm. they were mocked mercilessly and basically TOLD TO CHANGE. now, here, they are back, they have made it through alive, and they are better than ever. basically, they have changed but on their own terms. you know how a phoenix is reborn through their ashes? They burn to a crisp when they’ve reached their limit and 100 years later are reborn as babies again. This is why the phoenix is such an important song to open with from the beginning of the album, as well as a fantastic metaphor for the band themselves— because it tells you from the start. Fall out boy is the same, but they have changed. They have grown. And they are better than ever, musically and mentally. This is also good symbolism for rising again even when defeated, which I’ll touch on again later

now, onto the second half of the chorus. The phoenix line is repeated, but preceding that is "wearing our vintage misery/ no, i think it looked a little better on me". fall out boy is kind of known as being part of the 'emo trinity' which, at the time of release, consisted of MCR, FOB and Panic! At The Disco. Personally id replace panic with paramore just because i dislike brendon urie strongly but thats just me. anyway, emo as a subculture in itself is incredibly emotional, and that's the point- emo is short for emotional. (feel free to correct me about any of this at any point of time btw, i am in no way an expert). a consistent trend was a lot of black clothing and the haircuts. i guess this isnt relevant. the relevant part was the emotion. fall out boy in 2009 was miserable. all the members were constantly at each other's throats, and eventually they just called it quits (everyone thought they would never come back, which is why the phoenix metaphor works here). by saying 'wearing our vintage misery' they are saying that they are bringing back that sort of emo-emotional aspect back into their new music, their trademark depressing lyrics, but it's improved. it's a better look on them now because they are doing so much better mentally than they were doing before.

let's backtrack a step to discuss the prechorus: "so we can take the world back from a heart attack/ one maniac at a time we will take it back/ you know time crawls on when you're waiting for the song to start so dance alone to the beat of your heart". pete fucking went OFF in this entire song but this section specifically. musically, the prechorus slows it down. it gives the song tension before exploding into the chorus. the first half of the prechorus again brings up the image of SAVE ROCK AND ROLL. i cant exactly recall what horrific events happened in 2013 to give the world a metaphorical heart attack, because i was very young and stupid and unaware of a lot, but i love the word choice here. one MANIAC at a time we will take it back. we are uniting the beaten, the broken and the damned. pretty much all the big names in emo have made their alliances clear: we take in the ones you don't want. they are the hufflepuffs of music. we will take your maniacs, we will take your people. we will build an army of the ones no one loves and we will take back our world together. possibly im interpreting this wrong but. i just think that's a really lovely image.

(also, pete has a motif in his songs-- mania. theres the entire album, for one, but this, as well.)

"time crawls on when youre waiting for the song to start so dance alone to the beat of your heart" is less obviously clear about rebellion and taking back change but it still is incredibly strong about this nonetheless. you can't sit and wait around for change. you can't expect the good things to come to you immediately, that isn't how the world works. when no one is there to lead you, to guide you, you're gonna have to do it yourself. your heart is steady and it knows the way. trust it. dance alone to the beat of your heart.

ok so now im going back to the first verse. sorry for skipping around the song so much. "you are a brick tied to me that's dragging me down/ strike a match and i'll burn you to the ground" i feel like honestly this line is kind of obvious- someone is holding him (pete) back. i'm not going to outright say it was about ashlee (his current ex-wife) because pete never explicitly confirmed it but it definitely seems super likely judging by the time this was written (pete and ashlee divorced in 2011, which was two years before this song was released).

at this point in writing this essay brain barf my thoughts have become a little dead so im looking at lyricgenius to see what they're saying and it is. so not helpful. like bro pls. add some context to WHY these lyrics are arranged this way. but never mind that FOCUS ON THE WRITING TOBY FUCK

ANYWAY. the next line in this verse is "we are the jack o' lanterns in july, setting fire to the sky/ here, here comes with this rising tide, so come on/ put on your war paint". another theme constantly in Pete Wentz Lyrics is summer. i am drawing the connection here specifically from this song and fourth of july. and there it is again! put on your war paint!

fun fact: the story of the jack o lantern apparently is that some guy named jack made a bargain with satan and was doomed to wander the earth with only the company of a hollowed out turnip. again-- the wanderers. we bring in the wanderers, we take them as our own. we are the light in the darkness. we will set the world ablaze. so come on! get ready for war! we will roll in with the tide, and like a tide, we will destroy if we have to, not because we want to, but because it is in our nature.

final line in the verse: "cross walks and crossed hearts and hope to die/ silver clouds with grey lining". these are two popular phrases that have been altered in minor ways that make a huge difference. ive noticed pete tends to do that often. here hes changed 'cross my heart and hope to die' and 'every cloud has a silver lining'. this change is super important because it flips the themes of the two phrases (The Truth Has Been Spoken and There Is Always a Positive, respectively) and it darkens it. what is the correlation between cross walks and hoping to die? the cars. and by saying 'silver clouds with grey lining' he is flipping the saying to read as 'even though something seems light, there is always a dark side... kind of like a yin yang. which makes me think of the current logo, the smiley-frown. it's always about balance and it's always about an even distribution. but that is irrelevant.

and let's have a chat about the second verse: "bring home the boys in scraps/ scrap metal the tanks/ get hitched, make a career out of robbing banks/ because the world is just a teller and we are wearing black masks/ 'you broke our spirit' says the note we pass". this is the most important verse in the song, because this is where the entire theme shows the best. i think from the very start we can make two connections just reading this here, and i bet i can guess what you thought from the start. I bet you saw 'bring home the boys in scraps' and thought oh, toby is totally going to connect that to their motif about 'bring together the unwanted.' and i bet you saw 'we are wearing black masks' and thought ah, toby will definitely relate that to the first line in novocaine. and yeah, you're right. you know me too well, i am a predictable guy. because i 100% will. we KNOW fall out boy. the best example i can use to argue my first point off the top of my head is that they were initially marketed to teenage girls. they were a pop band. i mean, no one can really call them pop now (god, i miss music from the 2000s) but, yeah. no one in the rock or punk scene wanted teenage girls to like their music (because clearly teenage girls were so uncool or whatever) so fall out boy marketed themselves to them. they took in the fans no one wanted.

also, a bank teller is the person who handles customer cash, which is something i did not know until about twenty minutes ago. in the case of a bank robbery, the robber would pass the bank teller a note so that there would be less of a scene. these kind of robberies are called 'note jobs'. so by saying "make a career out of robbing banks/ because the world is just a teller and we are wearing black masks/ 'you broke our spirit' says the note we pass" essentially the band is using a bank robbery as a metaphor for taking back the world and the injustice that has been served to them, as the youth youngbloods. we are trying to take it back as peacefully as possible, but we are still the ones on the side with the gun. the 'note we pass' is the robbery note. lyricgenius was absolutely shit it did not help me with this i feel very proud that i connected all the dots by myself but maybe i am just an idiot and this is already common knowledge.

we are almost done- this has gotten long, a lot longer than i thought it was going to be. hope that's okay. anyway we just have to go over the bridge and then i'll summarize the song as a whole: "the war is won before it's begun/ release the doves, surrender love". this repeats five times. the war is won before it's begun. this is connected to the second part- release the doves, surrender love- because the band doesn't really WANT to fight. they don't want to HAVE to take in the people who aren't given a category. if we could just learn to love those who were different, we might not have war. we would have won it before it's begun. on the third repeat, there is chanting in the background-- 'wave the white flag'. the white flag is a sign of surrender pretty much universally, and it goes hand in hand with what's being said here. and again. i feel like i keep repeating this- it's the intro song. why would they say this? because they don't really want to fight. remember, the point of a note job is to attract as little attention as possible. we don't want a war. we don't WANT to save rock and roll- but we have to. it is our job, as youth- as youngbloods. and THAT'S the message of this song. we are preparing for a fight for justice that we would rather not take part in, but we have to, to protect ourselves and our past and our future and our people.

this is what the band is saying-- we have been gone for so long, but we are back. and we are here to help. we have changed, but you have changed too, and we are better, and together we will take back what we have lost to achieve peace, even if it takes a millenia, even if we go down fighting. because ultimately, we, ourselves, the ostracized and the mocked and the hurt, we are worth it. We will rise above it like a phoenix reborn from the ashes because we are always worth it, and we will always come back.

#i wrote this in three different days with huge time gaps in between I hope it’s comprehensible #toby speaks #Toby’s asks #Toby’s meta #fob #fall out boy #save rock and roll #srar #the phoenix #I physically can’t look at this anymore if I do I’ll throw up #Hope you like it anyway anon!!! i appreciate the ask so much they’re so fun sorry for being so slow to answer #patrick stump #joe trohman #andy hurley #pete wentz

[afearfulbride]

stiller water (gen. hanyatta)

Peace, at last.

Already the outside world had vanished beneath the low rumble of the filling bath as it resounded from every wall in a soft cocoon of sound. Up from the roiling water came great, hot drifts of steam that kissed bare skin and soothed bruises, permeated by the heady scent of lavender and neroli- a counterpoint to the incense smoking steadily away in the corner, low and bitter and exotic.

If he kept his eyes closed Hanzo could almost imagine that he sat in the middle of the finest bathhouse in Hanamura, and not the sorry, Spartan affair that alleged to serve the same purpose at Watchpoint: Gibraltar. 

There was, however, one more difference.

“Allow me.”

With a soft clink of metal on tile, Zenyatta settled onto his knees behind him and gathered Hanzo’s hair up from his neck and into a clip. 

That in itself was not unusual. Omnic attendants were a staple of many of the most exclusive resorts he’d visited in his past life. But no mere attendant would chuckle at his pleased little huff, much less pet his neck without expecting to have their hand snapped clean off. Later on, Zenyatta would carefully brush it through from root to tip and smooth camellia oil into the ends while he perched on the end of his bed and struggled to stay awake beneath such gentle ministrations, his scalp tingling at each careful stroke of the comb. 

Hanzo suspected that Zenyatta would tuck him into bed, too, given half a chance. Sometimes he had half a mind to let him anyway.

The tell-tale slosh of a washcloth pulled him back to the present, and on instinct he tensed as Zenyatta worked it in broad, loose circles across his back- gentle at first, but soon Hanzo felt the press of his fingertips too as they sought out each knot and ache with almost eerie precision.

This time he did not so much huff as groan, sinking back into the omnic’s touch. “How do you know me so well already?” he grumbled. “It is suspicious .”

Zenyatta answered with his usual musical laugh. “Then shall I take my leave?”

Hanzo’s heart rose and swelled, and crushed the last vestiges of resistance from his voice. “Idiot.” And then, just as warmly: “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it,” the omnic answered. Hanzo could hear him shuffling closer beneath the soft thrum of his voice; the cool, round surface of his brow coming to rest between his shoulders came as a relief rather than a surprise. “There is nowhere I would rather be than here with you.”

Impossible , Hanzo wanted to say. But that kind of thinking did not seem to linger for as long as it used to, and already it was beginning to fade, like the shadows of a nightmare before the morning sun. When Zenyatta’s arms wound around his waist he simply sank back into them, knowing- trusting , against all instinct- that they would not let him fall.

The bath, though. By the time Hanzo had lowered himself into the steaming water, hissing with satisfaction, it was practically overflowing. Doubtless someone would complain about such a frivolous use of resources while the Watchpoint was still only just functional, but that was a challenge for another time.

Heady, fragrant heat soaked Hanzo to the bone, muscles flexing and then relaxing beneath the surface of the water as he stretched… but, somehow, he could not quite settle. Hanzo opened his eyes again.

It was hardly a hot tub, but surely the bath could manage a second occupant, particularly when one of them was a slight little thing. Silently, Hanzo thanked the Overwatch of years gone by for going out of their way to accommodate a gorilla.

“You said that you are fully waterproof..?”

 “I am.”

Zenyatta’s head tilted, and into the angle Hanzo thought he read a careful kind of anticipation. At times he seemed to be tempering himself; I do not want to rush you , he’d said once, and though he had been grateful it had made him, ache, too, to know that his fear was what held them back. It did not have to be so. Water spilled over the side of the bath as Hanzo edged forwards. Try though he might to keep his tone neutral, there was no concealing the note of uncertainty in his voice or the thud of his heart from such finely-tuned sensors. “Then join me?”

And Zenyatta’s array burst into bright, fluttering light. “I thought you would never ask.”

Graceful as he was in his daily life, there was something unearthly about Zenyatta when he was laid bare, a moonbeam of a creature, all silver and gold and streaked through with the blood-red of every exposed wire.

He stepped into the opposite end of the bath, their bodies slotting side by side with jigsaw precision, and Hanzo finally let himself sink back and relax. Just.

In truth a part of Hanzo had hoped that Zenyatta would select his side and bracket him with those long, long legs- or, better yet, that the omnic would curl into his lap with his head pillowed on his chest and his feet dangling over the edge of the bath, the picture of tranquil satisfaction. He would curl around Zenyatta like Ryujin about his jewels and disappear into the mist together, as far from the rest of the world as the bottom of the ocean. 

Another time. It was, he knew, still early days for them both, even if it seemed in these moments that every atom of his body demanded contact, as if each wasted opportunity to touch Zenyatta- so wonderfully, blessedly real , so his - would be his last. As if, with too much space, Zenyatta himself would realise the terrible mistake he had made in sharing even a fraction of his light with a fractured shadow of a man.

Patience. Trust. Hope. All virtues Hanzo had never been given reason to practise until now.

He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the edge of the bath in some half-hearted attempt to refocus, but it must have shown on his face. A moment later the blunt edge of Zenyatta’s foot nudged him in the rib.

“Where are you going?” The omnic’s head was cocked- playful, rather than accusatory. “ Stay , Hanzo.”

Hanzo . There was a time when just hearing his own name had made his heart quicken like that of some hunted creature, ready to turn and fight for his life. A curse. But in that soft, sonorous voice, the true blue of Zenyatta’s jieba like glimpses of an endless sky opening before him…

As Hanzo exhaled the water rippled beneath his breath, and the reflection of Zenyatta’s array splintered and tripped, scattering light first across its surface and then the steam-cloudy chrome of his chassis.

I don’t deserve this, Hanzo wanted to say. Or, you blind me, my star.

Hanzo swallowed. He turned his eyes squarely upon Zenyatta- upon his dents and scuffs and the way his body curved towards him with sheer, fearless affection- and found that, in spite of himself, he was smiling.

“I am not going anywhere.”

#overwatch #zenyatta #hanzo shimada #hanyatta #fanfic

[bittersweetmorality]

OMG CAN U PLS WRITE A SUB CHUUYA SMUT I BEG

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE BABIE!! sub chuuya is my favorite chuuya 😋😋 sorry this took so long !! i was actually admitted to the hospital and .. YUH so i haven't been able to do literally anything for a bit. but ! i back. also i was listening to the Mitski cover of Let's Get Married the entire time i wrote this ANYWAY i hope u enjoy ^_^

— i'm going to take such good care of you, baby~ pt. 1

☾ pairing: sub!chuuya x GN!Reader (f!bodied reader in the next part, but no pronouns specified in either)

☾ summary: chuuya wants you to take care of him

☾ warnings: very suggestive themes, but no explicit smut (yet), making out, i think that's it

☾ a/n: HIHI Y'ALL. i'm currently writing the second part and it's basically finished, i just thought the only way to pace this fic out was by separating it into two part-- idk why it just seemed off to me if it wasn't. BUT ANYWAY ! SECOND PART OUT VERY VERY SOON !!! and it's literally filthy like ... lord have mercy

☾ w/c: 1,358

| PART TWO |

the entire evening, chuuya was barely being subtle about his feelings— his desire. light touches on your thigh that lasted a little too long not to arouse suspicion, kisses that lingered farther than they should’ve, and the dark look in his eyes as his gaze drank your figure.

even the most oblivious person could tell what was going on— chuuya was never one to hide his feelings, anyway.  even at an extravagant event like the annual port mafia gala, he still managed to show enough PDA to make anyone uncomfortable.

pressing you against him on the dance floor, trying his best to subtly (but failing miserably) grind against you, bringing his face down to your neck.

“chuuya!” you yelped, as he nipped a small mark against your collarbone. “i told you, we’re leaving soon, can’t you calm down for just another 10 minutes?”

you weren’t against PDA— of course not. you knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to be his girlfriend.  but, you just wished that he would be professional for this one night and hold himself together so you didn’t have to shield your eyes from the stares of mafia members.

“aw, are you flustered?” his movements were slightly sloppy from his light alcohol consumption, and you could feel his smirk against your skin. you scoffed, placing your hands on his shoulders and pushing ever so slightly for him to look you in the eyes.

he didn’t move an inch.

“no. i’m not flustered, chuuya,” you tried again, with more force this time. “i just—“ again.  he still didn’t budge.

with a huff, and your patience running dangerously thin, you grabbed his chin harshly. his eyes instantly met yours, big and full of surprise.

“we’re going. now.” your voice wasn’t loud, but it would be nothing if not powerful; stern. 

you had his undivided attention now.

he blinked dumbly a few times before snapping back to reality, and doing his best to regain some semblance of composure “ahem— the gala doesn’t end for another half an hour, babe.  we’re in no rush, are we~” he moved in to steal another kiss, his eyes dark and his hands lingering.

your jaw tensed, and your grip on him even rougher now, “did you hear what i said? now.” you nothing but growled lowly in his ear.

you swear you could hear his breath hitch in his throat, but at that moment your frustration ran far too high to find the means to care. you grabbed his hand, speeding to the front hostess, and giving her a half-hearted ‘thank you,’ as she returned your fancy dress-coats.

as the two of you rode back to your shared apartment, the tension in the air could be sliced with a knife. you noticed that way the red-head seemed to shrink in the passenger seat; but most certainly not out of fear. intimidated was the better word— and as if he wanted to know what you were going to do next.

you’ve never acted like this before, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

“chuuya, baby, why didn’t you listen to me when I told you to tone it down?” you questioned.  your tone wasn’t completely calmed down yet, but it was significantly more gentle than at the event.

he scoffed, “can’t help it when you dressed up like that, doll~” he attempted at teasing you and taking more control, despite his inner dilemma.

something about the way he thought he always had complete control just made you want to ruin him.  you just gave him a small smile, planting a small kiss on his cheek and saying nothing else.  

by the end of the night, you just knew you would make sure he listened to every command you gave him.

for the remainder of the way home, you barely gave him any attention, simply turning on your music and keeping your focus on the road.  his neediness didn’t subside; if anything, it only got more heated.  he still had one hand on your thigh, stroking lightly and squeezing occasionally, whispering sweet nothings like, ‘can’t wait to get you home,’ and ‘want you so bad.’

you couldn’t agree more.

finally unlocking the front door and stepping in, you were instantly met with a messy kiss from chuuya, his arms beginning to snake around your waist.

oh god, was your patience running thin with him tonight.

you grabbed him by both of his wrists, pinning them by the sides of his head and looking him straight in the eyes, “you should know by now, you’re not calling the shots tonight, baby.”  

chuuya was never one to give up quickly, you knew. it wasn’t going to be easy to get him to submit to you, but damnit, you were going to make this man beg on his knees for you to fuck him.

he groaned into your mouth as you kissed him roughly, gently poking your tongue out to brush against his pink lips in question. instead, his lips sealed immediately, breaking away from your kiss and looking into your eyes with a dark gaze.

oh, you knew this would be difficult.

“let go of my hands,” he growled.

“or what? what’re you gonna do about it, sweetheart?” you cooed in his ear. you could feel his muscles tense under your hold as if he was about to break out, but you quickly moved in retaliation. You caged him in with your body and bringing your knee up to brush against his growing bulge. “hm... you want me to let go, but it seems like you’re enjoying this just as much as i am, sweetheart~”

his brow quirked upward, the way it does when he doesn’t know what to say for himself. his body was betraying him. without realizing it, he was finally able to submit to you— throughout the entire evening, the butterflies in the pit of his stomach were purely anticipation.

anticipation for what you were going to do to him.

yet, he still attempted to break out of your hold, feeling the strain in your hold. he was much stronger than you-- you both were well aware of this. if he really wanted to break out and take control, he could. of course, you wouldn't let this remain unspoken between you.

"something the matter, hun?~ you want your hands free?" you whisper, letting your voice run low and your breath fan against his ear, "hm? if you want it so bad, then do it. you know i wouldn't stop you~"

you gave him his time, never rushing him to make the final decision, you wanted chuuya to as comfortable and content with everything.

suddenly, you felt the tension in his wrists go limp. you expected to feel reluctance radiating from him, in his eyes, in his actions. instead, you were met with his blue eyes, big and round and trusting. he relaxed into you.

he was yours.

you chuckled lowly in his ear, basking in your victory for a short moment before beginning to lead him to your shared bedroom. you wanted to make sure the entire experience was perfect,

just for him.

suddenly, you felt a light tug against the fingers wrapped around your hand, ever so slight that if you weren't giving him your undivided attention, you may have missed it.

you looked back at your boyfriend, immediately being able to pinpoint his nervousness.

"hey... chuuya, baby," you whisper, cupping his face gently. "if you don't want to do this, that's okay. hm? i promise, okay?"

he moved his gaze up to meet your eyes earnestly.

"take care of me... please," he said under his breath.

your heart swelled at his words. you knew just how much courage it took for him to say it, and how much trust he had in you for him to mean it.

"oh, honey... don't you worry..." you coo, pulling him flush against you, chest-to-chest. despite his nervous appearance, you could feel his arousal press up against you-- straining against his slacks. oh, he definitely wanted this.

"i'm going to take such good care of you, baby~"

masterlist

#chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya drabble #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x y/n #bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bsd smau #morality.reqs

[strawberry--bride]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Haunted Dark Bridal ー Sharon’s Route [PROLOGUE]

Monologue

The most painful thing in this world,

is losing your home. Your place-to-be.

No matter how dire the situation,

if you are surrounded by people who love and care for you.

No obstacle is invincible. 

Then ーー Where do I belong?

Having long lost the place I once considered home.

I spent many years in a place which would provide for me. 

I had food, a roof above my head, a warm bed to sleep in at night.

But could I truly call this my home? 

Those doubts would lurk in the back of my mind, keeping me up at night.

Until one day, I was made a special offer. 

If I complied, I would be given the thing my heart longs for the most.

ーー A new home.

Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Outside

Sharon: This is the place, right...?

( Woah...Amazing. I’ve never seen a house quite this big. They even have a garden! )

*Knock knock*

Sharon: Excuse meー! My name’s Sharon. I’m supposed to move in here today! 

...

...

( No response...? How strange. They should have been informed through the Church. )

*Knock knock*

Sharon: Hello...? Anybody home...!?

Sharon: ( What to do...? There doesn’t seem to be anyone home right now. It’s already getting dark. I can’t just stand here all night either. )

*Creaaaaak*

Sharon: ...Huh? Did the...door just open by itself?

( Does that mean I can go inside? I feel a little hesitant just entering someone else’s home butーー I was told I could live here so it should be fine, right? )

She enters the manor.

 Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Entrance Hall

Sharon: Just as I thought, the inside is equally spacious. I can’t imagine just one person living in such a large house all by themselves. Cleaning must take quite some time as well.

She puts down her suitcase.

*Thud*

Sharon: Phew...

( ...It’s so quiet. Almost as if the house is deserted. I wonder if the owner is out at the moment? In that case, I should probably wait in the living room. )

Sharon looks around.

Sharon: I guess it’s...that way?

*Rustle*

Sharon: ...!!

( I...Did I just...step on something? It felt...strangely soft and... )

???: ーー Oi.

Sharon: ...Kyah!

Sharon: ( A person...!? Oh my gosh. I just arrived here and the first thing I do is step on someone! )

???: ...

Sharon: I’m terribly sorry! I didn’t think there would be someone lying on the floor and...!

( ...Speaking of which, what were they doing down there anyway!? ...Sleeping? No way, right? When you have a house this large, you definitely don’t need to use the floor as a bed... )

???: Haah...

Sharon: Oh no! Are you feeling ill, perhaps? In that case, I shall call a doctor right away!

???: ...You’re loud. How am I supposed to enjoy my Rachmaninov when you’re screaming the place down? 

Sharon: Rach...mani...? ...E-Either way, if you’re not feeling sick, then what were you doing on the floor?

???: Wasting his time away listening to music rather than making himself useful, per usual, I would assume. Well, I suppose it is best not to have any expectations of this man in the first place, as he will only let you down in the end.

Sharon: ...!? 

( A voice...? Out of nowhere...!? )

Sharon: ...Wah!!

( Where did he come from...? )

???: Now, who might you be?

Sharon: Ah...I’m sorry! My name’s Sharon. I’m an orphan at the Catholic orphanage downtown. I was told by our related Church that the resident of this manor has been so kind to take me in. Are you...perhaps the owner?

???: ...I see. It seems you are the next...sacrifice.

Sharon: Excuse me?

???: Nothing. I was simply talking to myself. ...Ahem. My name is Sakamaki Reiji. The second eldest son of this family and one of the residents here. ...The man you had the ‘honor’ of meeting earlier is Shuu. While you may not suspect so given his deplorable behavior, he is - quite unfortunately - my elder brother.

Sharon: Reiji-san...and Shuu-san, was it? It’s a pleasure meeting you both!

Shuu: ...

Reiji: I assume that is your luggage over there? A room has been prepared for you. We will have one of our servants bring everything upstairs.

Sharon: Thank you very much!

( Thank god...So there wasn’t any mistake after all. )

Sharon: Oh! Right! I actually brought a little gift with me! They’re homemade muffins I made this morーー

*CRASH*

Sharon: ーー ning...!?

Startled by the loud noise, she drops the box with muffins.

*Thud*

???: YOU FUCKIN’ BASTARD!! I swear once I get my hands on youーー! 

???: Ahaha! I can’t believe you actually fell for that one! Lame-o!

Reiji: ...

Shuu: Haah...

Sharon: ( H-Hold on, hold on, hold on! Eh? Eeeeh!? I’m not dreaming, right!? That person just punched a hole through the wall!? )

Reiji: Ahem. ...Allow me to introduce. The one who destroyed the wall is the youngest son, Sakamaki Subaru. Next to him is Sakamaki Ayato, the eldest of the triplets. 

ーー You two, explain this situation at once!

Ayato: ...Che. Reiji. I didn’t do anythin’! Not my fault that Subaru ate those prank chocolates I left out on the kitchen counter.

Subaru: Fuck off! You definitely did that on purpose! ...I can still feel my mouth burnin’...!!

Sharon: ( ...Prank chocolates? I guess he means those filled with mustard and other spicy condiments, right? I didn’t know people actually bought those. )

Ayato: Of course! I was hopin’ to catch Kanato. Can you imagine what kinda face he would make when poppin’ one of those bad boys in his mouth?

???: ...Say, did you hear that, Teddy? ...I hope Ayato sleeps with one eye open tonight. He might just run into...unfortunate accident.

Sharon: ...Eh!?

( Another person just appeared out of thin air!? )

Ayato: Keh. The lunatic’s here.

Reiji: Sakamaki Kanato, the middle triplet. 

...Kanato, If you wish to commit a homicide, please do so outside of the walls of this manor. It takes forever to remove blood stains from the carpet.

Kanato: I don’t recall having to take orders from you.

ーー However, you’re lucky as I happen to be in a good mood right now. I believe I heard someone mention muffins? 

Sharon: ...Ah, yes! I made these myse...Huh? ...Oh.

Shuu: It’s not blood, but I think the carpet will need some cleaning regardless.

Reiji: Good grief...

Sharon: Oh no...! The box must have slipped from my fingertips when I heard the sudden crash and...

Ayato: Ah-ahー Look what you did, Subaru. It’s always the youngest child causin’ trouble.

Subaru: HAAH!? All of this started ‘cause you left those stupid chocolates out!

Sharon: ...They turned out really good too. What a shame.

Subaru: ...!! ...O-Oi...You...Um...My bad.

Kanato: ...Unforgivable. 

Sharon: Eh?

Kanato: ...HOW WILL YOU MAKE THIS UP TO ME!?

Sharon: ( W-Why is he getting upset at me all of a sudden!? It was obviously just an accident!? )

Um...I’m not sure...I could make some new ones later?

???: There, there, Kanato-kun~ Relax! Even if the muffins were wasted, there’s a delicious snack just waiting to be devoured...

*Rustle*

Sharon: ...!

( Someone wrapped their arms around me from behind!? )

???: ...Right here~ ...Nfu~

Sharon: ...Eh!?

( I-Is he talking about me!? )

Reiji: ...And finally, the youngest triplet, Sakamaki Laito. 

Ayato: Oi, Laito! No way you’re gettin’ the first taste again! I still haven’t forgotten last time!

Laito: Eeeh~? It’s not my fault you’re so slow, Ayato-kun~ However, if you’re so insistent on taking a bite out of her, I wouldn’t mind sharing, you know? I’m sure it’d make for a refreshing and thrilling experience~

Ayato: Geh! In your dreams, you perv!

Sharon: ( Taste? Bite...? Why are they talking as if I’m their food!? )

Excusーー

Shuu: ...Strawberries.

Sharon: Eh?

Kanato: What are you talking about? I don’t see any strawberries around.

Reiji: Shuu. Explain yourself.

Shuu: Your panties. They had strawberries on them.

Sharon: ...!!

( When did he...!? Ah! When I stepped on him...! )

Ayato: Pfftー!! Strawberries! How old are you, five? That’s hella lame!

Laito: Hm...~ Strawberries are not bad but with such a lovely body, I’m sure you could pull off something a little more erotic~

Subaru: ...

Laito: Oh, my bad~ I forgot baby bro was in the room. I suppose talking about a woman’s underwear is still a little too much for him to handle.

Subaru: S-Shut up...!!

Reiji: ...Enough! No more on this topic! ...Haah. Is it really that much to ask for you lot to behave? Just for one day?

Ayato: ーー Anyway, Reiji. Who’s this chick anyway? Tonight’s dinner?

Sharon: D-Dinner...!? I’m sorry but...Why are you all talking as if I’m food or something!?

Ayato: Shut it! Nobody asked for your opinion, Ichigo Pantsu.

Sharon: I-Ichigo paーー!? I have a name...! ...It’s Sharon.

Ayato: Yeah, yeah. I-chi-go Pa-n-tsu.

Laito: Hm~ This Bitch-chan does smell sweet just like strawberries. Perhaps I should call you ‘Ichigo-chan’ instead~?

Kanato: She really does. I’m sure her blood would taste just as sweet...Oh? What’s that, Teddy? You’d like to have a taste? Fufu...Good idea. I was just feeling a little peckish myself.

Reiji: Haah...I shall be in my study room. ...Ayato, Kanato, Laito. Please treat our new resident with some respect. It would be a shame to lose another one so soon.

Sharon: ...Wait, please! I’m afraid I don’t quite grasp the situation yet!

Reiji: Haah...Good grief. You must not be very smart, are you? Did you truly believe you would be allowed to stay here for free?

Sharon: ...Eh?

Laito: Nfu~ He’s right, Ichigo-chan. Everything in this world comes at a price. In your case...That would be the delicious blood pumping through your veins...

Sharon: M-My blood...? 

Ayato: Heh. You seriously haven’t realized?

Kanato: Teddy...Humans are truly so foolish, aren’t they?

Subaru: Che...Stop beatin’ ‘round the bush already and just tell her.

Shuu: We are Vampires. So the only thing a human such as yourself would have to offer, is your blood.

Reiji: In return, you will be allowed to stay here in this manor. Food, clothes and all other daily necessities willl be provided as well.

Sharon: Vam...pires? That must be some sort of joke, right? It was the Church who arranged this place for me! They would neverーー! 

Besides...Vampires only exist in fairytales!

Reiji: Good grief. This is why I simply cannot deal with humans. Not only are they incredibly foolish, they are horribly naive and trusting as well.

Subaru: In other words, you were set up. Just deal with it.

Sharon: ...

( No way, right...? This has to be some sort of mistake? Or a bad dream...? )

Shuu: Pwaah...Anyway, you guys do as you please. I’m going to my room to nap.

Subaru: I’m leaving too.

Reiji: Well then, if you’d excuse me now.

The three of them leave.

Sharon: ...

Laito: Oh dear~? Is that despair I see in your eyes? You poor little thing! Don’t worry, Laito-kun wil make sure to comfort you. After all, there is no better cure for betrayal than pleasure.

Ayato: Don’t be so down, Ichigo Pantsu! It’s not that bad of a deal! You get to offer your blood to Yours Truly after all!

Kanato: Fufu...I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. If you’re lucky, you might even make it into my precious collection one day~

Sharon: ...!!

She suddenly pushes them away.

*THUD*

Ayato: ...Woah!?

Laito: ...Aah~ Not bad, Ichigo-chan! I like myself a feisty girl at times!

Kanato: Ugh! ...What are you doing!? I nearly dropped Teddy just now.

Sharon: ...

She runs upstairs.

Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Hallway

Sharon: Haah, haah, haah...

( Say, God...? )

( Is this my penalty...? )

( Are you punishing me for my crimes of the past...? )

Monologue

I just kept on running and running.

As said question repeated itself inside my head.

That must be it.

Those guys were exactly right. 

Humans are foolish. I was foolish. 

Foolish to believe I would be given a new home.

After all, people like me.

ーー They don’t deserve a happy ending.

ーー PROLOGUE: END ーー

[ Dark Prologue ] ->

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers oc #sharon's route #(( aaaah it's starting !! )) #(( feedback is welcome and encouraged <33 )) #(( this general prologue focuses on her arrival at the S manor and her first meeting with the boys )) #(( dark prologue will touch upon her backstory a little and her first time attending the academy )) #(( then the other dark scenarios will develop her relationship with all 6 brothers through different scenarios )) #(( if there's a specific idea you have for a fun scenario idea )) #(( please let me know!! ))

[bitcher-of-blaviken]

The Death of a Bard

Rating: T Warnings: None WC: 1,783 Tags: Modern AU, family shenanigans, Geralt is a good dad, fluff, nobody is dead i swear

Geralt sniffed and subtly wiped a tear from his eye as Yennefer stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder. Eskel stood on Geralt’s other side, a box of tissues clasped in his large hands. In front of them, Jaskier laid in the long makeshift coffin, his hands clasped over his stomach with flowers tucked under them. They were just wildflowers that Ciri found out in the backyard where they were all standing, but it’s how Jaskier would have wanted his funeral to be like. Off the cuff, nothing grand, a cheap cardboard box instead of a grand and beautiful coffin of mahogany and a plush velvet interior. Geralt knew that this was what the humble musician would have always truly wanted.

Lambert stood on the other side of the box. “Dearly beloved and hated, we are here to celebrate the death of Jaskier—“

“It’s to celebrate the life, Lambert,” Geralt interrupted. He cleared his throat and sniffled again. “He had a good life. He deserves to be celebrated.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Lambert retorted with a scoff. He fumbled with the wrinkled paper in his hands. He was dressed in his nicest outfit, which was his work uniform for the post office. It was sufficient. “We are here to celebrate the life of Jaskier, who died from a fatal gunshot wound in the stomach. He bled out slowly and painfully, murdered in cold blood.”

“Who would do such a horrible thing?” Eskel lamented, his voice watery. “He was so young. He had so many more years ahead of him, so much more music to make, so much— I’m running out of words.” He choked out a sob and took a tissue out from his box to blow his nose into it, comically loud.

“Nobody move,” Ciri called out, walking out with an oversized fedora on. It was nearly falling over her eyes as she stomped out, her chest puffed out despite the large trenchcoat she wore trailing half behind her on the ground. “We have reason to believe the murderer is among this group. Nobody gets in or out.”

Gasps came from all of them.

“Oh come on lady, all of us loved the guy. Some more than others,” Lambert said with a pointed look at Geralt, who flushed. “None of us would kill him. We don’t even have guns.”

“Is that so?” Ciri asked, showing them all a plastic ziploc bag. Inside was a tiny, bright pink water gun. “I’m Detective Cirilla. We found this on the crime scene.”

More gasps from all of them, though there was barely suppressed snickers from Lambert.

“You think this is funny, do you?” Ciri asked as she strode over to Lambert. “There is a man dead in front of us and you think to laugh? Sounds like something the murderer would do.”

“No I’m laughing because it’s a fuckin’ pink water gun,” Lambert interjected with a grin.

“Language,” Yennefer chided.

“No, it is the murder weapon and you better start giving an alibi or you’re going to jail for some interrogation,” Ciri insisted with a shake of the ziploc bag. The harmless water gun rattled around inside of it.

Lambert cleared his throat and put his hands up at the equally hard stares from everyone else at the funeral. “Fine,” he relented. “I was in the kitchen, getting dinner ready.”

“What were you cooking?” Ciri asked, her tone and glare so serious that Geralt even saw Yennefer have to bring a hand up to suppress a smile.

“Pancakes,” Lambert replied equally as seriously. He even crossed his arms and leaned down to meet Ciri’s glare, their noses nearly touching.

“Hm. A likely story,” Ciri relented with a huff. She marched over to Eskel and pointed a tiny finger up at him. Geralt had to hand it to him, he still managed to look convincingly frightened even with an eight year-old in a too big hat and far too big trenchcoat pouting up at him. “And what about you? What were you doing at the time of the murder?”

“I was just— reading with Kitty curled up on my lap. I wasn’t able to move, much less murder someone. I’ve never seen that gun in my life,” Eskel defended, his hands up. “I swear detective, I would have never!”

“I see, and you?” Ciri asked as she whirled around to point at Geralt.

“You think I would have murdered him?” Geralt asked, his tone coming out more flat than it probably should have. He wasn’t good at the theatrics like Eskel and Lambert were. “We just married last week, we were supposed to go on our honeymoon. You were there detective.” It was true, Ciri had married him and Jaskier last week.

“I see,” Ciri said, rubbing her chin as she thought. “But what about his will?”

“What about it?” Geralt asked.

“I have it here,” Lambert said as he cleared his throat. He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it.

“Well? Don’t tarry on man, read it!” Ciri demanded. Geralt bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. At least she was learning a wide range of vocabulary.

“Yeah yeah, it says ‘If I die, I leave all of my earthly possessions to my newly wedded husband Geralt, including…” Lambert gave a loud gasp.

“What does it say? Including what?!” Ciri asked.

“It says ‘Including my super duper big family inheritance that I have stored away in the coast of Belize’. He was loaded!” Lambert exclaimed.

“Let me see that,” Ciri said as she snatched the paper out of Lambert’s hands. She hummed as she looked over the paper, which really just had the will written out in crayon with multiple words misspelled, including Geralt’s name, but nobody commented on that. She gasped and waved the paper. “This will is forged! I knew it!”

Everyone else gasped as well.

“Forged?” Yennefer asked.

“Yes! His signature was faked,” Ciri decided as she showed the paper to Yennefer.

A loud snore from the “coffin” interrupted them, and Geralt kicked the cardboard box. Jaskier gave a yelp from the jostling.

“Corpses don’t snore,” Geralt chided.

“Sorry, sorry, I was just comfy, and you all were droning on, it faded into background noise,” Jaskier mumbled. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he settled back in the cardboard box. He reached up with one hand, gesturing in a small circle. “Continue.”

“Thank you sir,” Ciri said with a nod. “Sorry about your death.”

“Thank you for your condolences detective,” Jaskier said. “I shall now go back to being dead now. Blargh.”

Geralt huffed a laugh as Jaskier put his hands back on his stomach and clasped them over the flowers again.

“Now! Who would gain from such a forgering, if not Geralt!” Ciri declared as she rounded back on Geralt. “You murdered your new husband in cold blood, to take his secret fortune for yourself!”

“I wouldn’t,” Geralt protested with another sniffle. “I— loved him. A lot. I was really looking forward to the honeymoon. We even had our entire trip planned.” He produced the two strips of green construction paper from his jacket pocket, with the words “Honeymoon tickets” written on them in crayon with a lot of little red hearts around the words.

“I see,” Ciri said, taking the tickets from him to inspect them carefully. “But then why forge the will?”

“I was framed,” Geralt sighed. “Someone must have wanted me to be out of the way. Someone who would have gotten the fortune instead.”

“Someone like..his long lost sister?!” Ciri asked as she pointed an accusatory finger at Yennefer.

“How did you know detective?” Yennefer gasped, a hand on her chest.

“In the victim’s bedroom, I found the actual will stuffed under the mattress!” Ciri said as she whipped out another piece of paper. Everyone gasped again. “But this one says the exact same thing as the forged one! Everything is to be left to Geralt, including his super duper huge family fortune! So why would Geralt have forged a will if he was going to get Jaskier’s family fortune anyways?” She waved the paper at Yennefer. “So I looked around, and found a chain of letters between you two! He wanted to reconnect with his lost sister, and told you about the fortune he inherited from your parents that he was going to share with Geralt!”

“It should have stayed in the family!” Yennefer cried.

“Exactly! And if the forged will was deemed trash and I hadn’t found the true will, then it would have gone to you!” Ciri said with a proud grin. She mirrored Yennefer’s pose, her hands on her hips as she puffed her chest out. “Case closed!”

“Argh, I was so close to getting away with it,” Yennefer said as she offered her hands for Ciri to clasp the toy handcuffs on her.

“Close only counts in horseshoes, hand grenades, and— um.” Ciri paused, trying to remember.

“Certain nuclear weapons,” Lambert reminded her with a snicker.

“Yeah!” Ciri said with a grin. “Just like my Uncle Lambert always says!” She bounced and grabbed one of Yennefer’s hands. “The judge has already decided your sentence. It’s a thousand years in jail! We’re locking you away for a long time.”

“That seems fair for a murder,” Yennefer relented as she let Ciri tug her back into the house.

Geralt smiled as he watched them disappear inside, and he turned to help Jaskier stand up out of the box. Jaskier winced and rubbed his backside.

“Ah, that was cold,” he said.

“I told you,” Lambert snickered. “Not so funny when it’s your turn to be dead, now is it?”

“I think I liked it better when Ciri was marrying us to each other,” Eskel muttered. “Are you sure she should be watching those crime shows?”

“Can’t really stop her,” Geralt said with a shrug. “It teaches her big words, and at least that way we don’t have to try to explain to her what incest is and why it’s bad.”

“I was having the time of my life,” Lambert teased with a snicker. “I rocked that wedding dress.”

“Geralt wore it better,” Jaskier fired back with a grin.

“Dead people don’t get opinions,” Lambert said as he led the way to the house again. “Come on, let’s get inside before the detective eats all of the carrots.”

Jaskier slipped his hand into Geralt’s and kissed his cheek. “I absolutely would leave you my super duper big family fortune that I stashed on the coast of Belize if I had it,” he cooed.

“I know,” Geralt chuckled.

“Do you think she even knows where Belize is?”

“Probably not.”

#the witcher #geraskier #lambert #eskel #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #who had a weird imagination as a kid raise your hand #my writing #trying to get the hang of posting my writing more on tumblr

[natromanxoff]

25 - Just Chatting...

Hello one and all.

It's been a long time since I graced these pages and, believe it or not, nothing much has been happening in my life, apart from the odd soiree or two. Winter has finally left us and spring has sprung, and it's nice to see the sun again. Let's start by wishing my old mate a happy birthday and I hope you all had a little drinkie for him, I know I did. In fact I got legless, he would have been proud of me. Whenever we were in London there was always a party at Fred's on his birthday, be it a handful of friends, or one where he invited half of Britain, but which ever one it was there was always a good time to be had and a lot of chaos. One year he actually took over Pikes Hotel in Ibiza and chartered a private plane to fly his friends in. Roger and myself were already on the island recording some of his solo stuff so we didn't have far to travel to the bash. When I say we were working, it's kind of true as we spent a lot of time on his boat "Ga Ga" whizzing around having lunch and fun. The party was held outside around the swimming pool, now is that an invite for trouble or what? There were hundreds of balloons hanging from every available fixture, and of course there is always an idiot that thinks he's a clown. This particular clown, who will remain nameless, decided it would be funny to light one of the balloons, and needless to say the whole lot went up in flames. Phoebe and Crystal to the rescue. We had to get this "fire" off the wooden rafters before the whole hotel went up in smoke, so we were pulling bits of string while burning rubber was dripping down on us. I was so traumatised by the whole event I had to have another drink ....... a lame excuse I know, but hey, it's my story. Back to the pool. Edwin Shirley, of trucking fame and also an all round good guy after a few too many, decided to have a swim, so he removed his clothing and was flapping around the pool when some daft countess told him to get dressed and behave himself. Wrong move lady. Edwin was not impressed by his telling off and threw her in, and she was even less impressed with that and started ranting and raving, much to the amusement to the rest of the party hounds. She left with her tail between her legs and didn't look at all glamorous in her soaking wet dress, running makeup and failed hairdo. We continued till mid morning and went straight to the airport and caught a flight home. Thanks F for the great parties and good times, you will never be forgotten.

I still get asked a lot if I'm gonna write the "Real" story about Queen. Well the answer is no, and the reason is that the guys gave me a great job and a great life and I have far to much respect for them, their wives/girlfriends, children and families to tell the world what we got up to in private. I feel that is our business and ours alone. Most of us are all in relationships and telling tales could make life awkward for a few people, band and crew alike. I'm sure at some point in time someone from the organisation will write a book, have 5 minutes of fame and make a quick buck, but it sure as hell won't be me, and I'll still be able to sleep at night and when I see the guys I will still be free to say, "Wanna beer MATE."

I've had a few questions asked me that I'm gonna answer quickly.

First off is "Do you have any stories about Freddies cats? (ripping furniture etc.)" Here's a good reply, No. So moving right along, "Of all the famous people you've met, who impressed you the most?" Tricky one this. After years in this "Biz" they all become "Just normal people," and some become good pals, but on one occasion I was in Paul McCartneys studio and I was handed his violin bass and I was sitting there holding it when someone said, "Paul is left handed, hold it like he would." When I turned it around, still taped in the cutout was the Beatles set list from their days in Hamburg, now that impressed me.

Deaky and myself were the only two reggae lovers in the outfit, and Bob Marley turned up to see the show at Madison Square Gardens. Strange choice of show for Bob, but he loved Another one bites the dust, and he happened to be in New York on a stopover on his way to Germany for laser treatment. Show time and our intro tape was playing, and someone told JD that Bob was in the audience, so he cranked his bass up and played "Lively up yourself" over the tape. This was very possibly the last time Marley ever heard this played as he died shortly after. I didn't get to meet him, but I did get to meet Tyrone Downie, Bobs keyboard player in the Wailers, and Tyrone and myself got up to all sorts of mischief that night. RT on the other hand hates reggae music, but I did manage to drag him to the Circus Krone in Munich to see Peter Tosh. I loved it, he hated it. I look at this as payback because years before he insisted that I went to Hammersmith Odeon to see Laurie Anderson, of O Superman fame. This show he loved, but I put it alongside Cher as one of the worst concerts I have ever seen. Needless to say I have also met a couple of stars that I didn't see eye to eye with. Like the American rock star we encountered in a club one night, and he was such a pain I had to take him into the toilets to have a quiet word with him. He finally got the message so I released my hand from around his neck and let him drop back down to the ground. To finish this segment I wanna tell you something that Bev Bevan said. Bev was the drummer with ELO, and them and us were touring the US at the same time, and as it turned out, staying in the same hotel in one city. Roger and myself were leaving the hotel and waiting for the elevator. When the doors opened Bev was in there and him and RT said their hellos. Rog then said, "Bev, this is Crystal, he looks after me." Bev turned to me, shook my hand and said, "Pleased to meet you. If it wasn't for guys like you, guys like us wouldn't be where we are today." He didn't need to say that, and was genuine when he did. I wasn't impressed with meeting him, but he is certainly in my top ten of nicest people I have ever meet.

Over the last few months I've spent a lot of time in the Chatroom, and I highly recommend it to you all as it can be a bit of a laugh. For anyone who has never visited the room please remember a couple of things, if you come in and start swearing you will be kicked out. I know, it happens to me all the time. Also don't come in and start going on about knowing axemen and murderers and other such garbage, cause that also warrants a kicking. Some buffoon from Ireland, who went by the name of "Death" turned up with an attitude and was going on about how f***ing awesome Queen were at Slane Castle. He was not known by anyone in there so I asked him to watch his language. He said he was the Grim Reaper and could do and say what he liked, so I told him otherwise and he was most put out when I kicked him. What a fool. A while ago there was some prat who called himself F***queen, good name eh! Anyway, he/she/it was picking on a lovely young lady called Raisa, and was saying some awful things to her and completely freaked her out, so I went to her defence and FQ turned the attention my way. As far as I'm concerned it's only letters on a screen and it didn't phase me at all, but at least he/she/it gave up on Raisa. In all fairness to FQ, whoever you may be, he/she left a message on the Bulletin Board saying sorry to Raisa and myself and would never do it again. So FQ, from the both of us, thanks for the apology, we accept it. What other weirdos have we had? Well, there was a brightspark who decided it would be funny to use the nickname QueenRshite, another bad move from this person who was honoured with a ban.

While in there I've seen a lot of friendships made, and a couple that have fallen apart. I got a private message one evening from a very drunk girl who, how shall we phrase this, offered me her body and wanted to do all sorts of naughty things to me, I thanked her and declined...must be getting old or something. I have also witnessed relationships being made and, usually there is a lot of humour involved, but needless to say some arguments do occur. I have also seen some of the daftest things said. One guy was so convinced that one of the regulars was either Deaky or she was chatting with him in private that he actually started tracking her every move on the net. He also told me about some highly illegal activities he was up to concerning the band. I wouldn't have thought I was the best person to tell such stuff to, and needless to say I had a go at him. Just to add to his stupidity he's been recently boasting about his affair with an underage girl, and I reckon if he had any more sense he would be half witted. Having mentioned all the twits I'd like to say a quick hello to all the regulars, White Queen and Killer Queen, the lovely girls Blue Rock and Rannnnnnni, SQJan, Mayflower and her boys, Farookh (aka Leroy Brown) MarshMallow, the three Tigers - Babe, Lily and Stripes and the mighty Falc, also to all the rest who I haven't mentioned by name, you know who you are. I'd also like to say hi to Daddy Cool who is the singer in the Dutch cover band Miracle, and Dad, if you never make it as a singer you could make a great career from being a stand up comedian. Finally an extra special hello to the gorgeous MTB, who is about to make an honest man of me ;)

Before I go I'm sure I don't need to remind anyone of a certain date in November that is engraved in all of our minds. And I know that a lot of you will be heading to Garden Lodge to leave flowers. I don't wanna preach and tell you what to do, and I know flowers are a nice gesture, but they do die and the only people to really benefit from this is the florist. This year lets all give a donation, no matter how small, to Aids research, this way the cash will be used to try and stamp out this awful disease. If you really wanna leave flowers, buy a smaller, cheaper bunch and donate the balance of what you would have spent to these charities. It's been said a million times before but it is true, Every penny counts.

As always, Loadsa Love.

Crystal

#queen #queen band #freddie mercury #john deacon #peter freestone #crystal taylor #crystal's tales

[inkandpen22]

Young Hearts Divided (1/?)

Pairing: Sirius x reader / James x Female!Reader (this comes later- the tea)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.6k (she short~think of it as an introduction)

Part Summary: Y/N is a fellow Gryffindor Fifth Year with the Marauders. She has always been close with the boys, especially Sirius, but sometimes they can be bad influences... 

A/N: as always, thank you for reading! If you guys have any suggestions or requests you’d like to see, let me know! I’m down for anything rn :) 

Masterlist

Late! Late! Late! I’m late! I hurry down the steps of the tower into the Common Room. I suppose this is what I get for staying up late listening to muggle music with Marlene. How kind it would’ve been of her to wake me up too when she probably rose like a peaceful princess this morning. I at least would expect Lily to help a friend out! Nope, instead, I’m sprinting through the halls of Hogwarts with one shoe on, my hair disheveled, and my books hardly staying in my hands. I completely missed breakfast and now have to run straight to DADA across the bloody castle! 

Professor Flitwick stops writing on the board and peers over his shoulder when I stumble into the room. My peers whip their heads back and stare at me like a fish in a bowl. Sirius and James are sitting right in front of me with childish grins across their faces. Sirius starts giggling and Remus leans across the aisle to swat him on the arm. 

Professor Flitwick clasps his hands together with a deep exhale. “Miss Y/L/N, it’s on you to join us. Take your seat,” he instructs, gesturing to your empty seat next to Marlene toward the back of the room. 

“Sorry Professor,” I mutter, swiftly sliding into my seat directly in front of Sirius. 

As I pull out a roll of parchment and get settled, Marlene begins to bombard me with her questions. “Where have you been?!” 

“Sleeping!” I snap in a whisper. “No thanks to you!” 

“Dreaming about Bowie?” Marlene giggles, nudging me with her elbow. “Told you he’s stellar! We should listen to him again tonight!” 

“And keep me up all night?” I snicker, looking ahead to scribble down Flitwick’s notes. 

“You still haven’t heard this one group! My cousin sent me-” 

Marlene is cut off as a crumpled piece of paper hits the back of my head. Knowing exactly who it’s from, I ignore the wrinkled ball on the floor by my ankle to catch up on my notes. Marlene picks up the paper, much to my annoyance. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her glance back at Sirius as she unravels the ball. I continue to listen to Flitwick, hoping he doesn’t write me up for being tardy. 

“Want me to read it to you?” Marlene asks, all gushy with enthusiasm. 

“Does what I say matter?” I sass in a grumble, knowing she’ll read it anyway. 

“He wants you to meet him at the tree by the lake after class,” she informs as she scans the sheet. 

“Can’t,” I answer plainly. “I have potions.” 

Marlene sighs in disappointment, glancing back at Sirius with a frown. On my behalf, she writes down my answer and hands back the note. Turning back toward the front, she fiddles with her quill not even attempting to take notes. I, however, am writing like a lunatic struggling to make up for lost time. 

“Oh come on Y/N,” Marlene whines quietly. Her silence lasted about ten seconds. She tugs on the sleeve of my shirt while glancing upfront every so often to make sure Flitwick isn’t looking.  “You haven’t missed a day of class yet this term! Skipping one class won’t kill you!” 

“You’re right,” I mumble, keeping my attention ahead. “But what if McGonagall sees us or literally anyone else? I can’t get written up again! I’ve been to detention twice now this year because of the Marauders. Friends don’t get friends in trouble.” 

She huffs, dismissing my reason as not good enough. “You’re only young once Y/N! It could be fun!” 

“Why don’t you meet him then?” You suggest sarcastically. 

Suddenly, I feel another tap of a ball of parchment this time hitting my back. I take a deep breath to compose myself. If we anywhere else, even the library, I would probably smack the boy. Taking note of my frustration, Marlene cautiously reaches for the ball resting between the back of my chair and my back. She raffles the paper and skims the sheet. 

“Do you want-” 

“Ugh, just read it!” I bark under my breath, but loud enough for Lily and Alice to turn around in front of me. I mutter an apology and they face forward again. It takes every bit of me to ignore the stifling laughter of Sirius and James behind us. 

Marlene clears her throat, making the duo quiet down. Then, she recites Sirius’s note. “We will not be seen. James gave me the cloak.” 

I snicker, shaking my head at the words. “Ha, yeah okay! How does he plan on making Slughorn not mark me inexcusably absent?” 

“He… um…” Marlene stutters. “Good point.” On that note, she scribbles down my answer and leans back to hand the paperback. 

Sirius won’t have a valuable answer, thus will leave the matter alone. He will enjoy his free period doing who knows what with James while I go to potions. Shall I recall the two times I got put into detention because of Sirius Black? Okay, here it goes...

The first time was really for all of the Marauders. I suppose it’s my fault I’m friends with them. They were out late sneaking around with their stupid map to jot down a hidden tunnel Remus had discovered that day. I played watch and distracted Filch long enough for them to run into the Common Room. What that got me was detention from Filch. The boys felt remorseful and thankful that I didn’t throw them to the wolves, especially Remus and Peter. Sirius bought me chocolates and placed a rose on my bed every day for twelve days until I had a full bouquet. 

The second time was after the Gryffindor v. Slytherin quidditch game a few weeks ago. There was a party in the Gryffindor Common Room after the win as per usual. Sirius was drunk and wanted to go for a swim in the lake. I had been rather intoxicated myself, but not enough to jump into a lake filled with all sorts of creatures! Alas, Sirius dragged me from Gryffindor tower and we snuck around the castle to get to the lake. Filch and some of the Prefects were on their rounds, so we had to hide around corners. Sirius would slowly turn the corners first, holding onto my hand to keep me close, just in case. Then, he would glance back at me with a mischievous smirk before booking it down the clear halls. Jump ahead half an hour and we get caught in the Black Lake in nothing other than our underwear by a very disappointed McGonagall, not one of my proudest moments. 

I remember her words exactly. “Mr. Black, why must you pull Miss Y/L/N into your shenanigans? Two weeks’ detention, both of you! You’ll be cleaning classrooms until they’re spotless!” 

The two longest weeks of my Hogwarts career. Well… at some points. Sirius had his moments when he made the hours slip by. There was the time we were cleaning Slughorn’s classroom and had a water fight. We got all of the textbooks wet that Slughorn left out on the desks. Sprout heard us from the hall and walked in on us dripping wet head to toe. Sirius was standing behind me, holding a now-empty bucket over my head. Her face was priceless! 

“Y/N? Y/N!” Marlene pokes my side, snapping me out of my daydreaming. “I’ve been saying your name!” She huffs, holding a new note from Sirius. “What do you want to say?” 

I frown, “what does it say?” 

She rolls her eyes, “I just read it to you... I guess somebody wasn’t paying attention.” 

I mumble an apology and look up at the chalkboard to see that Flitwick has jotted down at least ten more points. I check out for two minutes tops and he does all that?! Forget it, I’ll just copy Lily’s notes later. We all know she’ll have them perfect. James copies her every day during lunch anyway. I sit back in my seat with a sigh of defeat and contentment. I accept my defeat and call it a day. Looking over at Marlene, waiting for her to read me the note again. Impatient, I take the paper for myself and look over it. 

Have Lily tell Slughorn you’re not feeling well. I have something I want to show you…” 

Thinking it over for a moment, I consider the pros and cons. Cons: I could get caught and three strikes don’t look great on my transcripts. I want a career at the ministry, I can’t risk ruining that. Pros: it could be fun. Whenever I allow myself to have free time, Sirius and I have the best time. I mean, even in detention we had fun. He’s one of my best friends here. In fact, he was one of the first friends I made, after Marlene. Leaning forward in my chair, I pick up my quill and scribble down my answer. Marlene peaks over my shoulder, eager to see. 

Okay. 

Keeping a close eye on Flitwick to make sure he isn’t looking, I fold up the paper neatly in my lap. When the professor turns toward the board, I reach my arm behind me, handing the note back to Sirius. While I keep my attention, I feel Sirius’s warm hand glide over mine to take the folded parchment. It lingers there for a mere second, his fingertips grazing as far as my wrist unnecessarily. A faint, uncontrollable smile forms across my lips at the feeling of his touch. Marlene is right, we’re young, I should be living more. I think Sirius can help with that. 

#sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black #harry potter imagine #harry potter #hp fanfic #hp #fanfic #remus #james #james potter #remus lupin #marlene #marlene mckinnon #s.b. #lily evans #alice longbottom #hogwarts #marauders x reader #maruaders era #marauders #peter #peter pettigrew

[barsformars]

reaction: to their s/o being afraid of thunderstorms; ateez

req: hi! i absolutely love your writing, could i request an ateez reaction to s/o being scared of thunderstorms? thank you so much <3

a/n: thank you so much for requesting! this was kinda cute to write. also,, trying a different format here- not using gifs- lmk if y'all like it with gifs better? + first work im posting in this new year hehe hope y'all enjoy it <3

genre - fluff | pairing - ateez x reader | warnings - none

⭒❃.✮:▹ seonghwa

seonghwa had came home to you hidden under your covers as you watched the television on almost max volume, the curtains fully closed.

"love, isn't it a little too loud?" he had covered his own ears from how deafening it was and he had to pretty much yell for you to hear him. you paused the show when you took notice of him, quickly apologising as you tried to explain yourself when you saw another flash of lightning through the curtains. you slapped your two hands over your ears and squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the loud ripping sound from the sky.

seonghwa sat himself next to you and pulled you into his embrace, cupping your cheeks so that you would look at him. "love, do you trust me?" you nodded as you slowly opened your eyes.

seonghwa turned the television off and gently pried your hands away from your ears, letting your hands rest on the sides of his thighs. "let's be a little kinder to your ears, alright?" he leaned in closer and whispered into your ears. "do you want to tell me about your day or shall i go first?"

basically mars asmr but live, and when you do get surprised by the thunder, he would shush you affectionately and comfort you, continuing on about his day.

⭒❃.✮:▹ hongjoong

"can i hide in here for a little while?" you had peeked into his studio to see that he was just monitoring his past performances through fancams, surely you wouldn't be a distraction.

"from what?" he paused his video and whipped his head back to ask, confused. you were supposed to be at the dance studio, helping wooyoung and yunho check their choreography even if you weren't that experienced in dance.

"the thunderstorm, your studio is the only place where i can neither see nor hear anything so..." ah, he had no idea there was a thunderstorm outside. if he was he would have rushed over to you immediately, knowing just how afraid you can get.

"sure babe, make yourself comfortable." hongjoong would then turn on the ambience lighting to a dark blue and play some really soothing classical music, hoping that it would calm you down and take your mind away from the ongoing thunderstorm. when he sees that you were still a little frightened from earlier on, he drapes his warm jacket over you, "don't worry, you're safe here." he would also go to the kitchen to make a cup of warm tea for you to calm you down.

⭒❃.✮:▹ yunho

yunho loves thunderstorms, and he loves sitting by the window and staring out as the flashes of electricity branch out like veins in the sky, so full of life. that's what scares you the most, you know the extent of damage lightning can cause having lived in houses without good lightning protection systems.

"don't sit too near to the windows, you might get hurt!" you warned for the umpteenth time but your boyfriend refused to listen, saying that it would never happen.

"this apartment is safe, i promise," yunho reassured you, even gesturing for you to come join him over there. he wasn't going to force you if you still refused after the third time he asked but you decided to go. you've been trying to get over your fear of thunderstorms anyways.

he would wrap his arms around your waist and let you rest your head on his chest so that you could hear his calm steady heartbeats. the both of you sat at the windows watching the lightning and thunder with you burying your face into the crook of his neck often and him giving you long pats on your back to calm you down. you definitely did get less afraid of thunderstorms, though not much, but it's something.

"if the thunderstorm is ever mean to you, let me know. i'll personally throw hands at zeus."

⭒❃.✮:▹ yeosang

yeosang had fallen asleep on the couch when it started raining heavily along with non-stop thunder and lightning. you were extremely afraid but you had to close the windows yourself, you didn't want to wake yeosang up from his nap.

you were just about to close the one in the living room where yeosang was when the deafening sound of a thunder took you by surprise, causing you to shriek out loud in fear. being a light sleeper, yeosang jolted awake, surprised and worried. it absolutely broke his heart to see you crouched on the floor with your hands covering your ears, your shoulders shaking as you sobbed.

you felt so weak crying over a thunderstorm but yeosang made sure to let you know that there was nothing wrong with it. he gently guided you onto the couch where he would let you continue crying on his shoulder, his fingers intertwining with yours to let you know that he's there for you as he tries to help you control your breathing. "you're okay, you're okay. follow my breathing, love."

⭒❃.✮:▹ san

if you weren't afraid of thunderstorms, you probably wouldn't be sitting on yunho's gaming seat right now with san yelling at you over the headset to support him in the game. you weren't one to play games but as san says, "you won't be scared if you distract yourself"

it usually works, though the games do leave you feeling kind of nauseous from all the motion and lights, but today, the thunderstorm was simply on another level. the lightning had lit up the whole room with a bright white flash for a good three seconds before leaving you in a room that seemed much brighter a few moments ago.

san is not stupid, he knows playing games would not distract you this time round so he would quit the game and drag you onto the bed , letting you bury your face in his chest as he hums the tune of your favourite song.

when you told him that you were ashamed to be afraid of something many people aren't, he would shush you and say, "it's normal, everyone has their irrational fears. besides, that lightning really scared the life out of me too."

⭒❃.✮:▹ mingi

he knew about your fear of thunderstorms, and he always makes an effort to check the weather forecast on your behalf since he had googled it before and they said people who fear thunderstorms should try to refrain from doing so in case it makes them even more anxious. anyways, so he does it for you and prepares everything that you might need when it happens.

the both of you were in the car when the thunderstorm started, and being well prepared, he quickly handed you the small thin blanket and the bottle of water he kept at the backseats. there was no better place than under the sheets at home but this was better than nothing at all.

once the both of you got home, he would make sure to run a warm bath for you and might even accompany you in it. the fear had caused all your muscles to tense up and he made it a point to relieve all of them. in the meanwhile, he would comfort you by saying things like "im so proud of you." and "the next time a thunderstorm happens, remember how you are totally fine today, okay? think, thunderstorms are relatively harmless, you'll be fine this time too."

⭒❃.✮:▹ wooyoung

it was in the middle of the night when the thunderstorm started, the loud booming of the thunder startling you awake. you tried to go back to sleep, hoping that this moment would just pass and that you would wake up to a nice weather. but even with wooyoung by your side, you couldn't seem to be at ease enough to sleep.

"wooyoung, please wake up." that was your tenth attempt, unsurprisingly considering the fact that he sleeps like a dead log. thankfully he does, and very much apologetically when he notices the shitshow that was going on outside. even he was surprised he slept through the noise.

he would immediately drag himself out of bed to turn on the lights so that the lightning wouldn't seem as bad, also going out to the kitchen to pour you a glass of warm water. it always helped.

when the both of you were back in bed, wooyoung would rest against the headboard as you laid your head on his abdomen, him patting your shoulder affectionately until you fell asleep again.

"there's another thunderstorm going on inside your stomach," you joked with a faint smile as you snuggled closer into him.

"hey! if you're going to say that, go away."

⭒❃.✮:▹ jongho

the both of you were stranded outdoors as the thunderstorm has started unexpectedly while the two of you were taking a stroll in the park. the weather forecast did not foresee this. it was dangerous and very annoying to get soaked in rain, but everything was made worse because you were afraid of thunderstorms. you had no idea why, it was just the case.

"there's a shelter nearby, shall we make a dash for it?" jongho asked as the both of you sought temporary shelter from a tall tree.

"the lightning is a little crazy now though....." it was, but being under a huge tree on such a day wasn't the smartest idea at all, and it would be much better if you could go to a real shelter.

"you know i'm quite a lucky guy, right?" jongho would give you a piggyback as he ran, allowing you to close your eyes so that you wouldn't see the flashes of lightning. he would also tell you to put on earphones and play some soothing music. "it'll be over quick, just hang on in there for a little while."

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #8makes1teamnet #ateez reaction #ateez scenarios #ateez writings #ateez imagines #ateez #ateez blurbs #ateez drabbles #ateez fluff #ateez ot8 #requested

[m-m-m-myysurana]

WIP Wednesday

Ok I got tagged by @blarrghe like at least 2 weeks ago to share a wip. (I’m sorryy!) I am notoriously bad at this sort of thing. So anyway it is actually Wednesday for me now and look who has a WIP to share!! 

This is a snippet which will, in some form or another, make it into my long fic, A Cage We Share eventually. But it insisted on being written right now ty! Kept me up last night until it was out on the page. First rough draft of course so be kind ;)

Neria and Zev spend an evening in the Dalish camp after resolving the conflict between the Werewolves and the elves. 

A Night to Remember, (1500 words)

It was like no performance he’d ever seen. The singer was not dressed in any elaborate costume, nor did he even hold himself above the others, instead he sat close to the fire and sang into it. There were no instruments backing him up, though he did not seem to need it, his voice rang out clear and strong. Some sang or hummed along softly, harmonies and echoed lines fading in and out around them. From the cadence and verse, it seemed to be a story. Zevran recognised the name of one of the elven gods, though he could not pick out enough words to make sense of it. Neria’s eyes sparkled in the firelight as she listened with rapt attention. 

“What does it mean?” he whispered.

Neria looked over and smiled softly before leaning in to whisper next to his ear, “It's the Charge of Andruil. My father used to sing it. I don’t know that I’ll be able to translate it with much grace, but I can try.” 

Zevran nodded, and she settled closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. He kept very still, as if any sudden movement might scare her off. He felt more than heard her low words as she echoed the song. Her translation was spoken, not sung, but her voice was no less beautiful for lack of a melody.

“Remember my teachings, Remember the Vir Tanadhal: The Way of Three Trees That I have given you.

“Vir Assan: the Way of the Arrow Be swift and silent; Strike true, do not waver And let not your prey suffer. That is my Way.

“Vir Bor'assan: the Way of the Bow As the sapling bends, so must you. In yielding, find resilience; In pliancy, find strength. That is my Way.”

More voices joined in, and soon it seemed the entire camp was reciting the verse. Not every voice was as strong or beautiful as the first, but together in harmony it did not matter. As the sound filled his ears, an emotion he could not name expanded in his chest, swelling until he felt it might burst right out of him. 

“Vir Adahlen: the Way of the Wood Receive the gifts of the hunt with mindfulness. Respect the sacrifice of my children Know that your passing shall nourish them in turn. That is my Way.

“I am Sister of the Moon, Mother of Hares, Lady of the Hunt: Andruil. Remember the Ways of the Hunter And I shall be with you.” *

When the man finished, and Neria had echoed the last line, there was no polite applause or bows taken as Zevran had expected. A moment's silence passed, in which Zevran felt sure everyone would hear how wildly his heart beat. Then a drum was struck behind him, and he startled, whirling round to face it. The man pounded the drum a few more times, then began a rhythm that had many quickly cheering and standing. Neria stayed where she was on the log they were sitting on, so he remained with her. She twisted around and watched, delighted, as more of them joined in, bringing out more drums, tambourines, bells and fiddles, something that looked like a lute but wasn’t quite, and instruments he had no names for. Others joined in with the voices, not singing any particular lyrics he could pick out, just adding to the ever changing melodies with their voices. People started dancing, forming circles around the fire, and soon the camp was thrumming with the music so that even his heart seemed to beat to the rhythm. 

Neria swayed her head from side to side, eyes gleaming as she clapped along. Zevran stood, grinning as he held his hand out toward her. 

“Shall we?” 

“Oh, but I haven’t danced in years!”

“Shocking! I think it's time we remedied that, don’t you?” 

Neria laughed and let him help her up. He had not even had time to release her hand before a woman had his arm and was pulling them both along toward the dancing. With little ceremony, she broke a space between two dancers who, once they realised what was happening, very happily made space for the three of them. The dancer’s movements didn’t cease once as they attempted to join the circle, and the ensuing chaos created much laughter. The woman wrapped Zevran’s arm around her shoulders and wrapped her own around the woman beside her. A taller man wrapped his arm around Neria’s shoulders and Zevran shifted his arm under her arm and around her waist. 

Zevran had danced before, many times, though it had been nothing like this. Most dances in his country were made for two people, even in groups the dancers were in pairs. And of course most of the ones he had learnt had a focus on romance and seduction. These movements were made not in any effort to appear graceful or attractive, and indeed he was neither of those things right now. He stumbled over his feet many times as he attempted to copy the steps. They seemed to constantly shift and change, he would only just begin to pick up on one set of movements before they had moved on to another. Neria laughed, stumbling nearly as much as he did. She, however, seemed to pay no attention to what her feet were doing, instead her eyes were up and her head thrown back, as if she were simply feeling the music. 

It took him a while to realise the voice closest to him was hers. He had never heard her sing before, her voice was low and soothing and sweet like honey. Something glimmered on her face, reflecting the dancing light of the fire. Tears? Once he noticed he could not tear his eyes away. This was the happiest he had ever seen her, and yet she was crying. It confused him, but he did not dare interrupt. 

Soon the circle broke apart, though the dancing did not cease. He and Neria were separated, and he was guided through a sort of weaving dance. Each person he passed linked arms with him and spun before sending him off to the next person. This continued until he was quite dizzy, laughing as hair flew out of his braids. 

Then suddenly it was Neria who was swinging with him. He knew the next part meant he had to let go, but he didn’t want to. So he held on, using their momentum to throw them out and away from the fire. Neria screamed with laughter as they whirled, spinning wildly until they were some distance from the other dancers. 

He wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her closer as he slowed them down. When they’d finally stopped, Neria’s grin was wide and open, and both of them breathed heavily. Their noses nearly touched, and couldn’t help but remember the last time they were so close. Heat flushed through him unexpectedly, and something sparked in her eyes, a look he recognised from that night. They were out in the open, the whole clan could see them if they looked the right way, but he couldn’t care less. He dared to lean into her lips and was delighted when she responded with far more enthusiasm than he’d expected. There was a loud whoop followed by whistling and laughter, but Zevran did not want to pull away to see if it was aimed at them.  

The kiss was clumsy, all teeth and breathless laughter, but in that moment he wouldn’t have had it any other way. She pushed her hands into his mess of hair, destroying what remained of his braids, and he tugged at her waist until their bodies were flush against one another. Her foot caught on something, and she stumbled, falling against his chest. He was still so dizzy that they both went over. He caught himself before they hit the ground, and managed to lower them down, almost gently. Neria lay on his chest, wide eyed for a moment, but then she burst into a fit of laughter, rolling off of him and onto the damp leaves. He couldn’t help but join in. 

After some time their laughter faded as they focused simply on breathing again. Neria looked up at the sky, and Zevran followed her gaze. Framed by the clearing in the tall trees, clouds had parted to reveal a glimpse of the night sky. For a second he was taken back to the time he’d spent stargazing with Talisen and Rinna, out on the roof of their tiny, crumbling apartment. Those nights were always accompanied with so much cheap wine that his memories of them were hazy and faded. This night he hoped to keep clearly in his mind for as long as he lived. 

“Thank you.” Neria whispered the words so quietly, he wasn’t sure he was meant to hear them at all. 

He turned his head to look at her, watching her breath rise and fall as she stared up at the stars. A soft smile tugged on her lips, and her lashes came to rest on her cheeks as she closed her eyes, more peaceful than he had ever expected to see her. 

No, he would not let this memory fade.

*The song was adapted slightly from this codex entry about Andruil.

You can read about the beginning of Neria and Zev’s relationship here! <3

#wipwednesday #zevran arainai #ZevWarden #zevran x warden #Neria Surana #Neria and Zev #my writing #rough draft #Dalish Clan #dalish music

[tuiccim]

Terrigenisis (Part 2)

Pairing: Avengers X Inhuman!Reader

Words: 3067

Summary: Your life is torn apart after undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to civilian life. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild your life.

Part 1 

—————————————

A few weeks passed and you had settled into the routine of training, paperwork, and boredom whenever the rest of the team was on a mission. You had formed a quick bond with Wanda and the rest of the team was slowly letting you in. You were fluent in Sokovian. Natasha was helping you with Russian. Bucky was teaching you Romanian. 

It was Thursday and since the entire team was at the compound Steve declared it team dinner and game night. You were fairly quiet during dinner. The rest of the team bantered and laughed. During dessert, Steve had everyone write down a game and threw them all in a bowl. Being the hilarious person you are, you decided on Truth or Dare figuring it would be a fun way to learn about your new teammates. He walked over to you and asked you to pull one. 

“Alright, our game is… “ You look down at the slip of paper and see Truth or Dare, but it’s not your handwriting. Looking over at Steve, you snatch the bowl from him and look through the rest of the slips. 

“What’s up, (Y/N)?” Steve asks. 

“All the slips say the same thing, Truth or Dare. Except one that says Monopoly.” You say. 

“Bruce, we are not playing Monopoly ever again!” Natasha smirks at him, “Wait! That means you wrote Truth or  Dare, too!”

You grin at her. 

“We’re going to play the adult, no holds barred version.” Sam says. 

"I second that!" Tony raises his hand.

“Then we need some drinks and comfy couches.” Natasha says and everyone moves to the common room. Tony goes to the bar and begins making drinks for everyone. 

"Who goes first?" Wanda asks, curling up beside Vision on one end of the couch. Natasha and Bruce curl up together. 

You take a seat on the couch and Bucky sits next to you. You give him a small smile. He's been teaching you a lot at the range and your aim was improving. Steve sits on the other side of you and Sam sits next to him. Clint takes a chair with a grin on his face.

"Sam, start us off!" Tony says.

"Alright!" Sam rubs his hands together and eyes everyone in the room before his gaze settles on you. "Newbie, truth or dare?"

"Let's start slow. Truth." You say, already feeling a little heat in your cheeks.

"I'll go easy on you for this first one. How old were you the first time?"

"Uhhhh... 20."

"20? Late bloomer?" Sam smirks.

"20 is not that old for that!" You laugh, "How old were you?"

"Oh, no. It's not my turn!"

"Right, okay. Natasha, truth or dare?"

"Dare!"

"I dare you to let someone do a body shot off of you."

She turns to Bruce with a grin and Tony hands her a shot of whiskey. She settles the glass into her bra and straddles Bruce. He's grinning and bright red but takes the shot from her with his mouth and then kisses her. 

"Hot damn!" You say and giggle. Both Steve and Bucky look at you grinning. "They're so cute!" You whisper to them.

"Steve, truth or dare?" Natasha eyes the super soldier.

"Truth." Steve scowls at her jokingly.

"Do you like being called Captain in bed?" Natasha smiles wickedly.

"I don't mind pulling rank occasionally." Steve says as he turns red in the face. 

"O Captain, my captain!" Natasha teases.

"Sam, truth or dare." Steve says quickly. 

The game goes on and eventually circles back to you.

"Truth." You say avoiding the goofy and sexy dares that have gone around. 

"When was your last one night stand?" Vision asks.

"Never had one." You bite your lip awaiting the response. 

"What!?!" Natasha says. "Seriously? Never?"

"Nope."

"Wait, how old were you when you met Charlie?" Wanda asks.

"20." You say knowing exactly where this line of questioning was going to end.

"Was he your first?"

You just nod. Wanda squeals, "That's so sweet! How did you meet?" Natasha clears her throat and gives Wanda dagger eyes. Wanda's eyes widen and she looks at you sorrowfully, "I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking!"

"No, it's fine. I don't mind talking about Charlie. I was 20 and in college when we met. Saw this really cute guy at my rock climbing gym and he ended up coming over and climbing next to me. Charlie was super sweet and talkative and funny. We climbed and talked for 45 minutes and then he told me it was nice to meet me and left. Didn't ask for my number or anything and I was so bummed! So, two days later, I'm at my karate class and they are introducing a new instructor. Same cute guy from the gym. After class ended, he walked straight to me and asked me out. Said he’d been kicking himself for two days for not asking for my number at the gym. We dated for three years and then decided to get married while on vacation in Cancun."

"How long were you married?" Wanda asks.

"We were going on vacation to celebrate 8 years when it happened." You smile sadly. 

"I'm sorry." Wanda says.

"Thank you." You whisper. The mood in the room has sombered considerably. "So, anyway, that's why I have never had a one night stand. And so it's my turn to ask. Sam, truth or dare?"

"Truth." He smiles at you.

"Are you a boobs or a butt man?"

"I gotta say butt." Sam grins, "Tony, truth or dare."

"Dare." Tony says.

"Kiss the most beautiful person in the room." Sam smiles and holds out his arms jokingly. 

Tony simply lifts his hand to his face and kisses himself. "Too easy."

"That's not right, man." Sam scoffs.

"Truth or dare, Bucky." Tony smirks.

"Dare." Bucky rolls his eyes.

"Why don’t you give the new girl a welcome kiss?" Tony grins.

Bucky turns to you and says, "Is that okay with you, Doll?”

“Sure, Bucky. Lay it on me.” You smile.

With a slight tinge of pink in his cheeks, Bucky leans over and kisses your cheek. You laugh as the team erupts in boos at Bucky’s chaste kiss. 

“No go!” Tony yells over the heckles of the others, “Give her a real kiss!”

Bucky leans over and whispers in your ear, “Should we show them what a real kiss looks like?”

You nod, grab Bucky by the shirt and pull him to you. He melds his mouth to yours and leans into you. You both lose yourselves in the kiss, concentrating on putting a show on for the group who cheers and yells encouragement. By the time you break apart, Bucky had leaned you so far back you were practically in Steve’s lap, who is red in the face. 

“That was definitely a real kiss.” You whisper to Bucky who chuckles and winks.

The game goes on for a while and drinks flow. Finally, everyone says good night and you head to your room. A knock on the door only a few minutes later and you let Wanda in. 

“I wanted to say sorry again for earlier. I feel like I was insensitive. Are you okay?” She asks in Sokovian. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I don’t mind talking about Charlie. We were together for 11 years. He was a big part of my life. You weren’t being insensitive, you were just curious. Okay?” You reply. 

“Thanks. I’m just really glad I didn’t hurt you. So, ummm…” Wanda’s eyes were wandering. 

You smirked knowing exactly what she wanted to ask, “It was just a kiss.”

“Really? You don’t think maybe?” 

You just smile but a little blush starts to come to your cheeks. 

“Something is there! Tell me.” Wanda squeals.

“It was nothing really. I just haven’t kissed anyone in over a year. Damn, it felt good.” You laugh at yourself. 

“So, do you like him?”

“I’m not quite ready for that yet, Wanda. I mean, I just took my wedding band off three weeks ago. My life has been insane the past year. I don’t know if I’m in the right place for that yet.” You look at Wanda and she pulls you into a hug. 

“I understand.” Wanda says.

“I will admit that Bucky is hot. And, whoa, he can kiss.” You smile at Wanda who giggles.

“Yeah. Sleep well.” Wanda says as she leaves. 

“Night.” You say.

--

The next morning you get to the range for your daily lesson. Bucky wasn’t there yet so you pull out your favorite gun and begin practice rounds without him. You are checking your target after your first clip when Bucky walks in. 

“Hey.” You say with a smile. 

“Hey. Nice grouping. Your aim is improving.” He studies the target. 

“Thanks. I’ve got a good teacher.” You notice he seems nervous and wonder if the kiss last night is making him feel awkward. “I really appreciate all your help, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome.” He finally looks you in the eye and smiles. 

“We okay? After last night?’ You ask, feeling the need for reassurance. 

“Yeah.” He nods, “Now, reload. I want that grouping a little tighter this time.”

“You got it, Sergeant.” You smile and get back to work. 

--

At lunch time, you are in the kitchen making a sandwich. Your headphones are in as usual and you are lip syncing with the song playing. Suddenly, one of your earphones is taken out of your ear and you look over to see Bucky stick it in his own ear. 

"Thought I'd see what you're always listening to." Bucky smirks.

"Varies from day to day. Today's selection is classic rock." You finish making your sandwich as he listens along to Don't Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult. The playlist shuffles to the next song, Carry on My Wayward Son by Kansas. You smile at Bucky, "This is one of my favorites."

"You have interesting taste." Bucky chuckles.

"Oh, this is nothing. Your head would reel at some of my other playlists." 

"I'll have to steal one of your earbuds more often. Get acquainted with the musical tastes of our newest member." 

"I shall educate you thoroughly on the music of the decades." You joke as you move to the table to eat. Bucky joins you with his food and you chat as the rest of the team filters in. 

When he finishes, Bucky hands you back the earbud and says, "I look forward to my continued education."

You laugh, "You got it, Sergeant."

--

The team is sent on another mission and are gone for over a week. You continue to train, work with Redtail, take target practice, do paperwork, and try not to be bored out of your mind. As soon as FRIDAY tells you the quinjet is landing with the team, you sprint to them. Wanda is one of the first out and you embrace her. 

“I’m so glad you’re back. How did it go? Is everyone okay?” You rush your words, happy to see her.

“It went fine. Everyone is okay.” Wanda smiles, but looks tired. “I think we are all exhausted, though.” 

“I hear you. Let me know if you need anything.” You move on and welcome back the rest of the team. Fist bump with Sam, a side hug with Nat, a smile for Vision, you greet each one of them. When Steve and Bucky are the last to exit, you hug them both. “I’m glad you guys are back. Ya good?”

“Yeah, doll, tired.” Bucky says. 

“Everything went according to plan. I think everyone is exhausted.” Steve says. 

“I’ll take care of dinner tonight. Everybody could use a good meal. Go rest up for a while, guys.” You pat them each on the arm. 

“Thanks.” Steve says as he and Bucky head in. You follow behind and go to the kitchen to begin dinner prep. 

After dinner that night, you go outside to check on Redtail and Sam joins you. You pull out an extra falconry glove for him and he grins. 

“You think she’ll come to me?” Sam asks.

“I’m pretty sure she will. She likes you.” You warg into Redtail and ask her to come.

Redtail lets out a caw as she soars out of her dogwood tree and down to Sam’s outstretched hand. She immediately begins chittering at Sam and leans into him. 

“Bring her head closer to you. She won’t hurt you.” You guide him. 

Sam brings Redtail closer to his face and Redtail rubs her head against his cheek. A display of affection you’ve only ever seen her do with you. “Hey there, Redtail.” Sam croons at the bird.

You laugh delightedly at Sam’s reaction. “You should go flying with her one day. I bet it’d be amazing.”

“Next time I do a test run I’ll let you know.” Sam says as he pets Redtail’s chest. 

You reach out for Redtail and she climbs onto your glove. “Hey sweet girl.”

“How long have you had her?” Sam asks. 

“She’s been with me about eight months now. I found her shortly after she lost her mate. I think we kinda bonded over that.” 

“What happened?” 

“Red-tailed Hawks mate for life. Hers was shot down as they were building their nest.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam says to Redtail. “And for you. I can’t imagine. It seems like you’ve been through a lot, but you, uh, you never seem angry about it.”

“Oh, I am sometimes. I don’t know. I just keep thinking it’s gonna get better. It has to level out at some point.” You say sadly. 

“I didn’t mean to make you sad.” Sam puts a hand on your arm. 

“I know. It’s okay. We all know about loss. Just some of us more than others. I feel, uh, selfish when I compare my losses to Steve and Bucky’s. They lost their whole world.”

“Doesn’t make what we go through less painful.” Sam says.

“Gives it some perspective, though.” You nod and Sam returns it. 

“You’re a pretty cool chick.” Sam smiles.

“Thanks, Sam. You’re a pretty cool guy, too. I’m glad we’ve become friends.” You turn to Redtail still resting on your arm. “And I’m glad we’re besties.” You say booping your head to hers and then lifting your arm. Redtail takes flight and you watch her for a few minutes as she makes graceful loops. 

“Well, since we’re friends. That kiss with Bucky, huh?” Sam smirks.

“It was just a kiss, Sam. A dare.” You laugh. 

“Really? It looked pretty intense”

“Really. We were just putting on a show. Besides, I doubt I’m his type.” You scoff.

“Why would you say that?” Sam raises an eyebrow. 

You roll your eyes at him and walk inside. 

“Oh, no, you aren’t getting away that easily.” Sam strides up beside you. 

“Kinda out of my league, don’t ya think?” You laugh.

“No. So, you do like him?” Sam says.

“I mean he’s hot, but is there an Avenger who isn’t?” 

“That includes you.”

“I’m not an Avenger yet.”

“You’re still hot.”

“Flirting with the new recruit, Sam?” Steve appears as you and Sam enter the elevator. 

“Just letting her know that she’s on the same hotness level as the rest of the team. Right, Steve?” Sam smirks.

“Uh, yeah.” Steve says as a tinge of pink creeps into his cheeks. 

“See?” Sam says triumphantly. 

“Paint a guy into a corner, Sam. What else could he say?” You give Sam a look. 

“What? No! You’re beautiful!” Steve says emphatically.

You stare at him for a moment surprised by his vehemence. Licking your lips, you say, “Uh, thanks, Cap.” And swallow thickly.

“Uh, yeah, I mean. You are. You’re beautiful. You shouldn’t doubt that.” Steve says. The air is suddenly thick between the two of you and Sam’s head swivels back and forth watching you both. You give a pink-cheeked Steve a small smile before he straightens and stares a hole through the elevator doors. 

You sneak a glance back at Sam who has a gleeful expression across his face as he looks at Steve. You have a feeling Steve isn’t going to live this little encounter down for quite some time. 

--

A few days later, you are loitering in the common room when you decide you should check in with Redtail. You warg but immediately drop it when your mouth fills with the taste of oil and blood. “Ugh!” You exclaim heading to the kitchen and snatching a glass of juice out of Steve’s hand to take a long drink. 

“Uhhh… okay?” Steve and Bucky are staring at you like you have lost your mind. 

“I’m so sorry!” You cough a little. Your stomach is churning. “I warged into Redtail and she had apparently caught herself a snake. I’ve never caught her eating before and I could taste it. It was disgusting!” You laugh at yourself and how ridiculous it sounded. Steve and Bucky are chuckling too which makes you feel better. “I’ll fix you another glass.”

“Thanks. What other animals have you warged?” Steve asks.

“Um, cats, dogs, a horse, a goldfish. That was funny. For a watery creature they are airheads. Lots of birds. They’re my favorite. Emu was funny. They're fighting crazy...” You list a few more animals and the guys are chuckling at your descriptions. 

“And you can’t do this with humans, right?” Bucky asks. 

“No. It’d be nice, though, right. Just take over the target and have them deliver themselves to you?” 

“Make our jobs a lot easier.” Steve smiles. 

“Speaking of the job, any idea on a timeline for me?” You knew Steve was sizing you up everyday at training. “I’m not trying to push. But paperwork sucks.” You laugh lightly. 

“Yeah, it does.” Bucky agrees. 

"It's only been a few weeks." Steve says.

"I know. I'm not asking for a pass. Just a timeline. Some goals, markers, something. I'm a planner, Steve. I need a plan." Self-deprecation evident in your voice.

"Okay, I get that. Let me work some things out and we'll talk." He says.

"Thank you." You smile. "That'll really help me."

"You're a planner?" Bucky chuckles.

"Yeah. I like to have goals. Things to work towards. I mean, I'm okay with spontaneity, but limbo sucks." 

“That’s the truth.” Bucky smiles at you. It looks like he’s about to say something more but then he turns back to Steve.

Part 3

Masterlist

#inhuman #inhuman reader #avengers #avengers x you #avengers x reader #avengers fanfic #avengers fanficition #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel series #avengers series #inhuman series #reader insert #bucky barnes x you #x reader #x y/n #bucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #the winter soldier #falcon #steve #steve rogers #Captain America x you #winter soldier #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x you

[hopelesshawks]

Official Accounts Part 27- Think Fast

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Warnings for alcohol and recreational drug use

Masterlist

Hawks watches somewhat apprehensively as you put solo cups, mixers, and multiple handles of hard liquor out on your counter. “You look more terrified right now than I’ve ever seen you before facing a villain,” you point out. “I trained my whole life to fight villains. This is new. How many people did you invite?” He asks incredulously. “Just the Baddies,” you shrug. “All this is for just seven people?” “Technically all this and more, Kacchan’s bringing beer and Mina’s bringing white claws. Don’t worry we won’t finish it all!” you assure him before briefly pausing. “We probably won’t finish it all,” you correct yourself. At seeing the continued hesitation in Hawks’ face you stop your preparations for a moment and turn to him. “Hey I can call this whole thing off if you want,” you offer, but he shakes his head. “No, no don’t do that. Beneath the nerves I’m excited I promise. Plus what would people think if the great Hawks chickened out of a simple little party?” “I’m more worried about Keigo right now than Hawks.” “Keigo will also be fine.” “Ok, but you are more than welcome to stop drinking whenever. We won’t pressure you to get drunk if you don’t want to.” “I am older than you, yknow. You don’t have to baby me.” “Older yes but I, dear Keigo, am the more experienced and wiser one here.” “Well then, oh wise one, why don’t you show me the proper way to take tequila shots.” “I’ll grab the limes.”

You and Keigo might have gotten the tiniest bit carried away with your pregame so by the time the rest of your friends come knocking at your door you’ve already got a buzz going. As you swing the door open Denki and Mina are grinning back at you, Denki with an impressive bag of weed and Mina with the promised white claws, as the other three wave from behind them. “Let’s get fucking plus ultra in this bitch!” Mina yells and the rest of you reply with similar enthusiasm as you usher everyone inside. “Hawks and I already started so you guys have to catch up,” you tell them as you unlock your phone and toss it to Kirishima to pick the music.

At the start of the night you made a point to stick close to Keigo so he’d always have a familiar face to rely on if he got overwhelmed or didn’t feel like talking anymore, but as the drinks kept flowing you were delighted to find he seemed to be doing just fine on his own. In fact, Denki genuinely seemed keen on getting to know him more and the rest of your friends were just as welcoming. Soon it felt just like any of you all’s usual hangs and it wasn’t much longer after that that everyone was properly drunk. Soon Mina had somehow convinced Bakugo and Kirishima to back her up in an impromptu round of karaoke while Shinso and Hawks watched on from the sidelines. Denki sidles up next to you, throwing one arm around your shoulder while holding a perfectly rolled joint in his free hand. “Shall we head to the balcony?” he asks with a grin. You throw one more glance Hawks’ way to double check he’s doing well and when you see him burst into laughter as Bakugo and Mina fight over something inane, you feel something warm spark in your chest. “We shall,” you confirm before letting him guide you over to the glass door and opening it with a flourish.

There’s a chill in the air but the alcohol flowing through your veins means you barely feel it as you step onto the balcony and lean across the railing, Denki joining you as he pulls a lighter from his pocket. He places the joint in his mouth and then lights it with the kind of ease that comes from experience before taking a large hit and passing it to you. The two of you pass the joint back and forth a few times before Denki finally speaks up. “So how’s the little arrangement going so far?” he asks. “Better than expected to be honest.” “Have you guys talked about what happened yet?” “Not explicitly. He told me... a lot... about his past so I kinda get it now? but not about the night it went to shit.” Denki hums in acknowledgment. “How are you doing in general after everything that happened?” he asks. “I’m fine Denki.” “(Y/n)...” “I mean it. Don’t worry about little ol me.” “I’ll always worry about you.” “And I, you. Now stop killing the vibe. This is supposed to be a party remember?” Denki laughs at that as you move to sit on the railing of the balcony.

Keigo has to admit he’s pleasantly surprised by how tonight is going. He had worried about dropping into the middle of your friend group and spending the whole night feeling like an intruder but instead all of you have welcomed him with open arms in spite of everything. Between that and the alcohol he’s feeling more uninhibited now than he ever has his entire life. “I should’ve done this sooner,” he declares as he takes another sip from his solo cup. Next to him Shinso laughs, “damn right you should’ve.”

“Hey Kacchan!!” he suddenly hears you call. When he looks over he notices you sitting on the railing of the balcony. That can’t be safe, you have to be at least as drunk as he is and the joint you’d been sharing with Denki has burned pretty low so you’re definitely high too. “Think fast!” you shout and then you’re letting go and leaning backwards until you’re falling, the bright grin on your face never faltering. The blood in Hawks’ veins runs cold as he watches you disappear from sight. The muscles in his back twitch on instinct but barely any of his feathers have grown back yet so he. can’t. save. you. He can’t save you and he’s starting to panic when he notices Bakugo launching himself over the railing, the sound of explosions loud in the quiet night. Hawks jumps as he feels a hand land on his shoulder and turns to find Shinso giving him a reassuring smile. “Sorry should’ve warned you. She does that a lot, especially when she’s drunk,” Shinso tells him. “What? Falls off buildings?” “Yea pretty much.” “What?” “It’s a trust thing. The first time she did it was to prove a point. She knew he’d catch her. Now I think she just likes the feeling of falling while crossed.”

Bakugo reappears over the balcony with you giggling on his back completely unharmed and Hawks releases a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “That’s a lot of trust. When’d she start doing that?” Hawks asks. “I’m actually not sure,” Shinso replies, “yo Mina!” “What?” “What year did (y/n) start the whole ‘think fast’ thing? Second or third?” Mina walks over to join the conversation, plopping down next to Shinso. “Uhh I think it was third year after they started dating” she says. Shinso shoots her a look and elbows her but it’s too late. “They dated?” Hawks asks. Mina’s eyes widen in realization but it’s too late to take it back so she instead says “I’m gonna get more to drink!” and jets back off to the kitchen. Shinso rolls his eyes. “Yea, they did. In the end they decided they were better off as friends though, especially because Bakugo was a lot less mature then.” “That’s why she gets away with calling him Kacchan.” “Yea, probably. That was years ago now though, I don’t think anything’s happened between them since. I wouldn’t worry about it,” Shinso assures him before excusing himself to go talk to Denki.

Hawks knows it’s not his place but he can’t help but feel jealous now watching you tease Bakugo about getting slower as he lectures you on being an idiot. “I’m not an idiot!” you pout. “What else would you call someone that intentionally falls off a building?” he seethes. “Was there any chance you would have let me hit the ground?” “Obviously not, dumbass.” “Well there you go! Perfectly safe!” Bakugo sputters, his cheeks reddening, before finally grumbling “I’m getting another drink,” before walking away. This only makes you laugh harder. “Love you Kacchan,” you tease after him. “Fuck you!” he shouts back.

He’s one of your best friends. He’s one of your best friends. He’s one of your best friends. The phrase plays on a loop in Keigo’s head in a desperate attempt to quash the jealousy burning through his chest but he can’t help it. How long had the two of you dated? “Longer than the two of you did,” his brain unhelpfully supplies. His thoughts are interrupted when Kirishima drops down next to him with two beer cans in hand. “You look like you’re pretty deep in your head and (y/n) would kill me if I let you stay that way. Ever shotgunned a beer before?” Kirishima asks. “I didn’t realize I was that easy to read,” Hawks says as he takes one of the offered beers. “Typically you’re not. Watching you in action? You’re totally inscrutable dude, it’s super manly! But when you’re with friends you shouldn’t have to worry about that. Anyway, let’s not talk heavy shit man, am I teaching you to shotgun or not?” “Fuck it, why not.” “That’s the spirit!”

The party eventually reaches its natural conclusion as exhaustion starts to overtake even the effects of alcohol. Not to mention, your friends are keenly aware that unlike you and Hawks they actually have to get up and be out for work tomorrow. Hawks isn’t surprised when you give each of your friends a tight hug goodbye. He is surprised when the same offer is extended to him. It’s almost scary how perceptive your friends can be. When Mina’s hands get a little too close to where his wings should be he can’t help but flinch and immediately she adjusts. The rest of your friends make a point to avoid the area. Bakugo and Kirishima are the last to leave and it takes everything in Hawks not to let his jealousy show as you hug Bakugo goodbye. He’s once again shocked when Bakugo goes to hug him but he soon realizes that it’s not necessarily done to be friendly. “Take good fucking care of her bird brain. Cause if you don’t? I will,” he whispers harshly. As the two pull away from each other their eyes lock in a silent challenge until Kirishima calls from the hallway “Bakubro let’s go! Taxi’s here!” “I’m coming Shitty Hair relax!” he shouts back before finally breaking eye contact and heading out the door with one final wave in your direction.

Author’s Note: The party was honestly pretty built around the “think fast” scene. Once that idea came to mind it refused to leave. The Bakugo stuff well 👀 what can I say I like ✨drama✨ also I felt a little bad that Bird Boy stole the fic I was gonna write for Bakugo from him. Originally I was gonna have Hawks’ jealousy be unfounded but then I saw an opportunity and decided to run with it oops

Taglist [open]: @cathy8taffy @katzurras @grumpyfroggies @captaincyberqueen @itskindofafairything @420-uwu @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut @the-adzukibean @a-fucking-sero-kinnie @ladyzayismultifandom

#hopelessoa #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks smau

[sylvie-writes]

A Night In

summary: it’s your 1st wedding anniversary, unfortunately the snow has ruined your night. Or so you thought...

a/n: this is my entry for @just-one-ordinary-fangirl ‘s celebration challenge! also, I’m going to combine this with the anon who requested some Ransom Drysdale x wife! reader fluff.

word count: 1485, more or less.

warnings: stripping (but NOT in a sexual way) I swear it will make sense when you read it lmao, but I’m not gonna spoil it. this is still general audience.

*please pardon any mistakes! I try to proofread but I’m human. One who makes mistakes*

Mesmerizing snowflakes delicately fell from the night sky, the outside lights making them noticeable. Those little flakes gently fluttered to the ground, joining the rest of the snow that had compiled outfront. As of now, your front yard looked like that from a Hallmark movie.

Being snowed in was one thing, but being snowed in on your first wedding anniversary was another.

Of course, both you and your husband, Ransom, were slightly bummed out that your dinner reservations had to be cancelled, but you both still made it work.

Ten minutes ago, Ransom had phoned the restaurant, giving them the notice. After he hung up the phone, he joined you to snuggle on the couch, the yellow aura of the fireplace reflecting on your figures. Now, you were sitting between his legs, leaning against his broad chest, as the man laid his chin on the top of your head. When it had started snowing about an hour ago, you knew there was no way you were going to leave the house. Sadly, you turned back up the stairs and changed out of your dress and into a pair of sweats and a knitted henley top.

Ransom softly laid his hands over your stomach, interlocking them as he held you even closer to his body.

“What should we do, angel?”

For the past few minutes, you both have been silently brainstorming.

“I know there aren’t many things left in the pantry, but I’m sure we could whip up something.”

You looked down at his hands, and placed your own over them. Ransom unlatched his hands to envelope your colder ones.

“Well, I know we have stuff for spaghetti. How does that sound?”

“Sounds lovely, Ran!”

He paused making you nervous. When you turned expecting an upset expression, you were met with a giddy grin.

“That’s… that’s the first time I’ve been called that.”

First, Ransom stood from the couch, extending his hands to help you up. He smiled sweetly at you, and you brought your hand up to his cheek, a comforting touch.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never been called that. No one’s ever called me anything nice before in general.”

He bitterly laughed and a part of you felt a bit sad for him.

“No one? Not even your mother?”

“Babe, this is my mother we are talking about. The nicest thing she has called me is ‘asshole,’ which I take with pride.”

“That’s very true. At least this works in my favor. Now I have a nickname for you, honey!”

Once you were up from the couch, Ransom laid a hand on the small of your back, gently leading you into the kitchen.

One of your favorite activities in the whole wide world, was to cook with Ransom. Surprisingly, he was a pretty good cook, and you both worked wonders in the kitchen.

Currently, Ransom was filling a pot with water, as you gathered the many cans of the various forms of tomato. Sauces, pastes, and actual tomato chunks accounted for the six cans that made home on your side of the stovetop. Together, you and Ransom stood shoulder to shoulder working on your own parts of dinner. Since it was simple to boil the pasta, your husband helped out with the sauce by seasoning the beef.

As you waited for the sauce to simmer, you and Ransom softly swayed to the music in the kitchen. The two of you loved to dance. The feeling of being in each others’ arms was something you both adored.

When the timer sounded, you and Ransom pulled away from each other, having been softly lip locked for what felt like ages. You tended to the food while Ransom grabbed the bowls and poured your glasses of wine.

Ever the gentleman, Ransom pulled out your chair, making you giggle at his chivalry. This was a side of Ransom only you were allowed to see.

You both ate dinner in comfortable silence, occasionally talking, but mainly enjoying this time together. It was agreed that this was much better than sitting in some stuffy restaurant. Moments like the ones you had just created were ones you wouldn't have made at the restaurant.

Dinner was amazing and enjoyable. Your plates were soon empty and it was now time for the cleanup. Together, you and Ransom worked hurriedly and managed to clean the dishes in a timely manner. While Ransom cleaned the pot from the stovetop, he quickly came up with an idea for some more entertainment. It was clear the snow wasn’t gonna melt and you both clearly didn’t want to watch tv for the next few hours.

“Hey (y/n), did you keep any of the board games from when we moved?”

You took a moment to think, laying a hand on your hip.

“Actually, yeah! I kept a few, but I think battleship is the only two player game we have.”

A small pout came onto your lips, but it was washed away at Ransom’s happy smile.

“I’m totally down to play. That is if you are up to losing.”

His typical smirk formed and you leaned towards him to kiss it away. Pulling back slightly, you talked against his plush lips.

“You’re on.”

With Ransom finishing up cleaning, you took out Battship, placing his board on his side of the table as you situated your own. Soon, he came back to set his own ships into place. Just as you were about to begin, he spoke up with a tempting offer.

“Let’s spice things up a bit. Shall we?”

With a slightly drunken smirk, you replied, “What did you have in mind?”

“The person to lose this round strips to their undergarments and stands in the snow for a minute.”

You gasped loudly, reaching across the table to shake his hand while being mindful of the Battleship boards. The alcohol coursing in your veins and his made you two all the more competitive.

If you did lose, that would indeed be the longest minute of your life. The dare might’ve been stupid and childish, but you and Ransom fooled around like that for fun in desperate times as such. It was a perfect way to make your 1st anniversary even more memorable. Stupid things like these make for the fun stories to look back on, ten or fifteen years down the road.

“D3?”

“Nope.”

“A8?”

“Ugh.”

“E5?”

“Ah shit.”

After a shed load of curses, laughter, and a few glasses of wine, the game came to an end and your fates were sealed.

Successfully, you had managed to sink all of your husband’s ships. A prideful smile on your face as the man defeatedly sighed, standing on wobbly legs to give you a hand shake in a sportsmanship manner.

As Ransom stood up, he hurriedly slipped off his clothes starting with the t-shirt he was wearing. The man’s muscular arms stretched above his torso and you still couldn’t believe you managed to catch this man. Believe it or not, but you actually married him because he was such a charmer, not for his looks. They were just a bonus.

Before you knew it, Ransom stood before you in his boxers and shoes, making you giggle. He shot you a sarcastic smile, handing you his tan trench coat for your own use.

Opening the door, you both were immediately met with the rush of cold wind. It made you shiver and you were in the proper attire, it only made you wonder how Ransom felt.

You held your cell phone in hand, timer ticking away as Ransom stood in the never-ending, vast whiteness of the snow. His arms were tucked around his broad chest and his legs were crossed, trying to retain his warmth. You felt a tad bit bad, but then again it was a dare and neither of you would back down from one. Anyway, it was his idea in the first place.

So maybe you both were a *bit* competitive…

Ding!

“Ran! Come in!”

You waved him over from the door. Immediately he ran faster than a child running from their shadow. In a flash he was in the house, standing by the fireplace shivering.

To be fair, you decided to join in. As his back was turned, you stripped to your own undergarments, leaving on his coat to warm yourself. Ransom’s ice cold skin came into contact with your own making you hiss. Surprised by your touch, the man turned around enveloping you into his arms, trying to feel your warmth.

“I felt bad for you, even though it was your idea!”

“Damn straight! You are such a meanie to me, your precious, darling, innocent husband.”

Playfully you slapped his chest, leaning back into his embrace. The two of you stood in front of the fire, until warmed up, then going to pick up your discarded clothes and returning to snuggle on the couch.

There was no better way to end the night than with a sweet kiss.

“Happy Anniversary, Mr. Drysdale.”

“Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Drysdale.”

if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for sticking with the crazy plot. I know it was a little... risqué. Then again, it’s a Ransom fic. Anything is possible.

Taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @calirindo

#JOOF500challenge #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x you #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader

[fanficshiddles]

Obsession, Chapter 1

Summary: Robyn is a journalist who starts covering a serial killer in the city, Tom. He takes an interest in the pretty journalist and starts paying attention to her. But she quickly learns it’s not a good thing to have a serial killer become obsessed with you…

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: RAPE/NON-CON, STALKING, HARASSMENT, MURDER, BODY MODIFCATION, DRUGGING, KIDNAPPING, VIOLENCE, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOUR, MANIPULATION.

-

Robyn sat at the bar with a few of her girlfriends in the club, drink in hand while she swayed back and fore to the music. It felt so good to be out.

A tall shadowy figure stood in the corner of the club, watching her every move. Watching the way her hips swayed whenever she went to the dancefloor to let loose, the pretty blue dress she wore hugging her figure beautifully.

When Robyn ordered another drink, she foolishly left it at the bar when one of her friends dragged her, yet again, to the dancefloor.

The figure made his move. He swiftly crossed the club and as he passed the bar, he stuck his hand out and dropped a small pill into her drink. No one noticed as it quickly dissolved, everyone was too busy wrapped up within themselves and others, lost to alcohol and music in a sea of sweaty bodies.

He headed out into the crisp night and made up camp just along from the entrance. Biding his time.

-

Robyn felt funny. The drink suddenly hitting her, even though she could’ve sworn she hadn’t had many. But she definitely didn’t feel right and she knew something was wrong.

She headed to the cloakroom to get her jacket, well, stumbled there was more apt. Her vision was starting to get fuzzy and her limbs felt heavy. Just managing to hand over her ticket in return for her jacket, the woman watching the cloakroom sneered at her. ‘Ridiculous how drunk people get.’

Robyn barely registered what she said as she started to make her way outside. But as soon as she hit that fresh air, she thought she was a goner.

She stumbled to the side, but strong hands captured her just before she fell into the wall.

‘Woah, easy there, darling.’ A smooth voice reached her ears. One she was sure she had heard before… But she was struggling to focus, trying to remember where she knew that voice from.

The world was spinning, all she knew and could feel was being held against someone. Alarm bells were ringing within her at that voice, she knew she had to fear this man. But she couldn’t place why.

‘Come on, let’s get you home.’ He said softly, his large hands holding her and guiding her down the street.

‘No!’ She garbled out as she tried to push away from him. But she was far too weak, her bones felt like jelly. And even if she hadn’t been drugged, she wouldn’t have stood a chance against him anyway.

‘Shhh, shhh. Come now, kitten. Don’t want to make a scene now, do we?’ He said firmly.

It suddenly hit her. She knew who it was. It was the same man that had been toying with her for the past seven months. The same man who had, up until now, kept his distance from her. Or so she’d thought, anyway.

It was Tom.

That voice was the same voice that called her every single damn night for the past month. Saying barley anything else but utter filth to her with that sinful voice that she so wished wasn’t so captivating.

But what terrified her the most. Was the fact that the very hands holding onto her so strongly, were the same hands that had committed such evil, despicable crimes that made her skin crawl merely thinking about.

What he was capable of…

She did not want to make him angry, in fear of becoming another statistic on the news.

When she started to comply, not trying to get away from him, he hummed in approval. ‘Good girl, that’s better.’ He purred, leading her away.

But not far down the road, her legs gave way as she lost consciousness. So she was scooped up into his arms and carried home. Her purse was raided for the key as he let himself into her home and carried her straight through to her bedroom.

Robyn was still out cold when she was laid down on her bed and her clothes were carefully removed.

Tom breathed in sharply as he took in every inch of her, his heart hammered in his chest at finally having her like this. Stripped naked and so vulnerable to him.

Slowly stroking up her inner leg, he marvelled at how soft her skin was. Unable to resist, he lifted her foot and kissed her inner ankle. Then he started working his way up her body, kissing and licking as he went, until he came to the main prize.

Breathing over her softly, he pressed soft kisses to either side of her cunt. Then slowly started to lick her, delving between her folds and up over her clit. He draped her legs over his shoulders and continued eating her out like a man possessed.

Robyn’s body was reacting well to the assault, he could feel and taste her getting wetter. But she started to come round briefly, though she still felt like her body was so heavy and as if her mind didn’t belong to her anymore. She managed to glance down, her stomach churning when she saw a strange man with a head full of curls down between her thighs. A beard scratching against her sensitive skin while his tongue focused on her clit, forcing her to cum even though she didn’t want to.

She tried to reach down to push him away, but she just couldn’t. She passed out again, her mind going blank.

When she came to a little while later, it was to the sight of the man above her. In any other circumstances, she would’ve said a very attractive looking man. One she was sure she recognised somehow... He was smiling sweetly down at her as she tried to scream, because she felt a very large presence pushing into her, forcing her body to accommodate him, whether she wanted to or not.

‘N… no…. p…’

‘Shhh, hush now.’ He whispered, leaning down flush against her he stroked her hair and kissed the side of her lips. ‘Relax, kitten. It’s about time I took what’s mine.’ Was the last she heard before passing out once again as he thrust deliberately into her.

-

When Robyn woke in the morning she felt so groggy, like she had the hangover from hell. She could barely remember what happened last night as she sat up, her whole body felt achey and like she had been hit by a bus.

She didn’t remember drinking that much. In-fact, she couldn’t remember anything from last night after dancing with her friends to her favourite song, it was all blank…

But when she got out of bed and stood up, she paused as her blood ran cold.

Parting her legs, she reached down between her thighs and whimpered as she felt a very sticky mess there… Slowly dribbling out of her and down her inner thighs.

‘Oh no.’ She cried, panic hitting her.

She was naked, which wasn’t exactly unusual because sometimes she did sleep naked. But having a man’s cum inside of her was NOT usual since losing her boyfriend.

Running into the bathroom, she jumped straight into the shower and did her best to get as much of it out as possible. Then she just sat there in the shower, in tears. Shaking. Not knowing what to do, or even who did it.

But then she realised… what if he was still here?

Shaking with fear, she turned the shower off and grabbed a towel. Wrapping it tightly around herself, she slowly made her way out of the bathroom and inched her way through her house. Checking in each room carefully, then she darted for the door and made sure the chain was on.

Only then did she relax a little.

Though not for long. A few hours later, after much contemplating of what to do, her phone rang.

She glanced at the number. She knew exactly who it was. In a weird hope of desperation for someone familiar, no matter who they were, she answered it quickly.

‘I think that’s the first time you’ve answered me so quickly, kitten.’ The voice on the other end of the phone purred.

Then it suddenly dawned on her. The voice, it was so familiar… She couldn’t place him last night, why he had been there… But she had heard that same voice last night, and now she knew why it sounded SO familiar.

‘You… You were there last night.’ She stammered.

A low chuckle reached her ear. ‘I was indeed. I must say, it was nice to finally lay claim to what belongs to me. Even if you were unresponsive… This time. Do you know how becoming you look when you cum?’ He growled.

Robyn let out a sob, it had been him. He had been inside her home… Inside her. Before hearing anything else, she hung up on him and turned her phone off.

She slid down the wall and started crying.

Not only was he a serial killer. And a stalker. He was a rapist too.

And she knew that she was not just his victim. No. She was his toy. One that he was having fun playing with.

She screamed, not just in fear or pain, but in anger.

Now she knew that his threats weren’t just threats. They were promises.

- - -

Seven Months Earlier

Tom was sitting at his desk in his office, doing some work to keep his company running smoothly as always.

His secretary knocked on the door and popped her head in. ‘I’ve got your morning newspaper, Sir.’

‘Thank you, Chloe.’ Tom smiled and motioned her in.

She rushed over and handed him the paper, then she picked up his empty coffee cup and headed out to make him another one. Knowing how he always liked to have coffee on hand in the morning.

Tom sat back in his chair and looked at the newspaper. He frowned when he saw the headline.

The Choker Strikes Again!

‘The Choker?’ Tom scoffed as he narrowed his eyes at the paper. ‘Who is responsible for this?’ He quickly flicked to page eight, where there was more on the story.

He scanned through it until his eyes landed on the journalist who’d written the story.

‘Robyn Green.’ He hummed, stroking his beard. ‘Well, Robyn. It seems I shall have to pay you a visit.’ He growled low.

#tom hiddleston #fan fiction #obsession #au!tom hiddleston

[ahkaraii]

tov drabble (1618 words)

“Good fight,” Don Whitehorse compliments. “Not good enough, though.”

Schwann knows when he’s lost. He resorts to a cool, helpless apathy in these moments: a trait characteristic to him since birth.

“Then kill me,” he says without inflection.

“You won’t beg for your life?” Don asks.

“I am already dead,” he says. “There is nothing to beg for.”

“Huh. Interesting.” Don then shrugs his massive shoulders, like saying, ‘what can you do?’. “Aw’right then. Hey! Boys! Give this kid a good Altoskian welcome, and escort him to a cell, will ya?”

Altoskian hospitality is not unlike the Empire’s, Schwann reflects. They knock him around, piss in his water bowl, and don’t give him any toilet paper to wipe his face or his ass during the whole damn stay. Then again, an assassination attempt against his Imperial Majesty would easily warrant a public beheading — here, it seems to equate with seven days of enforced meditation toe-deep in his own shit before being kicked to the curb like nothing ever happened.

“You’re letting me go?” Schwann asks, a faint tone of disbelief in his voice.

“You’re not the first to try to off the Boss, y’know,” the guard explains, “and you won’t be the last. It’s almost a right of passage at this point.”

Schwann must reevaluate the guild’s hierarchy. His intel was clearly missing some rather important information. “Did you also try to kill Don Whitehorse?” he asks, not even meaning it sarcastically.

“Sure,” the guard admits, like it’s nothing. “Though I tried to poison him, myself. Gave the Don a case of the runs and he put a bucket of it in my cell and that was enough to make me not try again.”

Schwann’s just spent a week stewing in his own filth and understands what a powerful motivator the stench of unceasing fecal matter and lack of hygiene can be to a man who once thought himself as dignified. “Huh,” is all he offers. Is that how Don Whitehorse inspires loyalty? By sparing his foes in such a contrived way?

“Now, I’d close my eyes if I were you. Ready? Splash!”

After Schwann’s been waterboarded into smelling a little less like a sewer, the guard escorts him out the door and onto the cobbled street some ways from the headquarter’s main entrance.

“That’s it?” Schwann repeats, still not quite believing it.

“That’s it,” the guard says. “Though if I were you, I’d get a proper wash and new duds. You fucking reek.”

A bed and shower at the inn requires gald he no longer has. And even the filthiest tavern won’t let him in wearing the shit-smelling rags he’s got tattered on by a thread. He’s tired, he’s hungry, and he’s really five seconds away from giving up and taking a nap right there in the street. Where even is he, anyway? Dahngrest is a fucking labyrinth with far too many dead ends.

“You need quick cash, son? I’ll pay you to suck my dick,” a strange man with a caved in nose offers in one such dead-end alley, idly smoking a pipe.

Schwann considers it for all of three seconds before he smoothly says, “I must decline,” and walks off in the opposite direction as fast as his tired calves will take him. It’s barely been a week and he will not fall to prostitution just to get a fucking bath. That guy probably had syphilis, anyway.

“Hey! New guy!”

Schwann would’ve started walking even faster if the pitch of the voice hadn’t distracted him — it belongs to a kid, prepubescently high, gender difficult to tell with the patchwork quilt of nonsense they’ve got on.

“Take this package to Saggitarus,” the kid says, and hurls something at him that Schwann catches out of reflex.

“What?” he asks, but the kid’s already disappeared. Fast little bugger—either that, or great at climbing walls. “What...?” he repeats, staring at the innocuous brown-paper-wrapped box in his hands. It’s about the weight of his pauldron, some two kilograms dense, and rattles like there’s something round inside it. A blastia, perhaps?

“Saggitarus,” he echoes. The tavern?

Is this a test?

Is the Don testing him?

For a moment, Schwann expands his senses, wondering if he’s being followed. He can immediately feel eyes on him, and detect the sounds of muffled laughter in the distance. Then again, that might just be paranoia. He has just spent seven days with no privacy and bored guards idly betting on when he’ll get thirsty enough to drink the piss-bucket. (Shamefully, he only got to two before he succumbed.)

If there’s a blastia in here, maybe he can sell it, or, hell, use it. If Schwann’s already presumed dead and his dignity gone with it, then maybe--

The thought crosses his mind and leaves it without much fanfare. There is a task he has been given, and he shall complete it. “Saggitarus,” he repeats, and twists his ankles in the direction of the last tavern he’d been to. Maybe he can ask for directions there.

“Saggitarus tavern? Heh...y'mean the Sagittarius Tavern? It’s that way, new guy,” says the bouncer stationed outside.

Hm. Does everyone know his task, then?

“Sagittarius, huh? It’s southeast,” another man offers, “follow the music.”

It’s starting to feel like a wild goose chase, and everyone’s in on it. There is no music but distant laughter.

“Naw, new guy, it’s north! Y’know, by the fountain? Surely you passed it already.”

On and on and on, each new direction being interrupted by some new person with eyes on his package and cruelty in their smiles. It’s clear they’re all in on it, and he’s the butt of the joke.

“You’re all fucking with me,” Schwann says monotonously. He’s really quite tired. Honestly, he doesn’t really need a weapon to kill things. If he goes outside the barrier, maybe he could just rip a couple of stray Filifolia monsters into lettuce for a salad and then sell the rest of it for gald enough to pay for hay to rest with the horses…

The thought tantalises him for three seconds before he focuses back to reality. Don Whitehorse has probably already forgotten him. His underlings are the cats playing with the new toy the Don has given them. He’s nothing but fresh meat quickly spoiling.

“You finally give up, new guy?”

It’s the kid who gave him the package. Schwann eyes them more carefully this time. Blond, grey-eyed, and oddly confident in their stance. For being such a pipsqueak, this kid has balls to poke an enemy of the Don while he’s down. Schwann’s dead tired and still quite capable of snapping the kid’s neck like he would a chicken.

“What happens if I say yes?” Schwann asks, lightly.

“I take the package back,” the kid says, and stretches out a small hand riddled with weapon-born calluses. “Hand it over, then.”

“Hm,” Schwann makes as if he’s thinking, and a part of him feels silly but delighted when the brat begins to look visibly impatient. Is this kid the one in charge of his punishment…? “I think not, then.”

“Ugh,” the kid says. “Then hurry up and make it!”

Schwann bows his head like he would to Princess Estellise. “Of course, young Master,” he says, and is rewarded by the kid looking proper startled. Bingo. “I’m afraid I am quite lost, though. Why don’t we both help each other and you get me there, for real this time? That way we can both finally take a break.”

The kid squints at him and then gives an explosive sigh and turns around and starts walking. Schwann follows them leisurely. They walk down faintly familiar streets and end up at the tavern right where Schwann started. The bouncer outside looks just as amused as he did the first time.

“Ah, I see now. Saggitarus is your name, isn’t it?” Schwann says, managing a sardonic smile.

“At your service,” the guy says, and stretches out his hand. “Did you ever find the Sagittarius tavern, then?”

“Your directions were one of a kind, but my sense of direction is quite another.” Schwann plops the brown box unceremoniously into the guy’s outstretched palm. “Here’s your package, Mister Saggitarus.”

“Here’s your payment, Mister New Guy,” Saggitarius says, and flicks him a single gald coin.

“Thanks,” Schwann says without a trace of sarcasm, and turns to the kid. “Y’know where a tired old man could get a bucket of clean water for a single gald?”

“Uh, try the fountain,” the kid says. “Duh.”

“Duh,” Schwann echoes, and can’t help but laugh a little. Duh, indeed. Children above, he’s so tired.

“Hey. New Guy. I’ll throw you enough for a meal if you give Pecan this package,” Saggitarus offers, clearly taking pity on him. “Pecan’s the third waiter on the right at the Sagittarius tavern. You know your way there now, right?”

Schwann’s everything aches, but he’s starting to get the hang of this place now, he thinks. “Sure,” he says. “Throw in an old tunic and I’ll deliver it as fast as these old legs can take me.”

“Do it without causing a ruckus and I’ll give you some new shoes, too,” Saggitarius says.

“You got yourself a deal,” Schwann says, and points his feet towards his goal. He can’t wait to feel a little cleaner and rest enough to regroup and decide his next course of action; if he doesn’t send an encoded message to Zaphias soon, Commandant Alexei’ll probably assume him dead or, worse, a traitor. Till then, it’s nice to have a mission with clear cut instructions.

“Third waiter from the right,” Schwann murmurs to himself, and sets off.

#karaii fic #tales of vesperia #spoilers #just trying to get a hand on writing ol' raven #i'm really fascinated by his first few months at altosk and how he gradually got everyone's trust despite like #yknow #trying to kill the don

[teenwolfsnippets]

A Bad Trip in An Even Worse Life

It's a slow night at the bar, when possibly the most beautiful male specimen walks through the door. Stiles gapes a little before Boyd, his coworker, slaps his shoulder to snap him out of it. Right, being professional, he can do this. The man takes a stool and Stiles greets him, trying not to stare too much.

"What can I get you?" he asks.

"Scotch, neat," he orders.

His voice is smooth and has Stiles' heart fluttering. The man's wearing a dark suit that hugs all his muscles nicely and his stubble is so perfectly groomed, Stiles wants to touch it, maybe lick it. That was not professional at all.

He quickly fixes the man's drink and totally doesn't check to see if he's wearing a wedding ring, which he isn't by the way. Which doesn't mean he's single and Stiles really needs to get back to work. Stiles wipes down the bar and can't help the occasional glance. The man is avidly watching the television above the bar and Stiles subtly moves closer.

"Giants fan?" he asks.

The man looks to him, frowning.

"I don't really follow football," he replies.

Stiles nods.

"I think there's a baseball game on," he offers.

The guy shrugs and he's not particularly chatty. Stiles changes the channel anyway and receives a nod as a thank you. Stiles watches him for the next twenty minutes and the man keeps looking at his watch.

"Want another?" he asks, holding the bottle up.

The guy sighs, looks at his watch again, and then nods.

"Waiting for someone?" Stiles pries.

"Yeah," is all the answer he gives.

Stiles should probably leave him alone, but he can’t help himself.

"You from around here?" he asks.

The man frowns, but seems to relax again after taking a sip of his drink.

"Yeah," he says again.

Stiles nods.

"Me too. I'm Stiles, by the way," he says.

A brow raises, which he's used to.

"Derek," the man grunts.

"So, Derek, is it business or pleasure tonight?"

"Business," he says, sipping his drink.

Stiles nods and is about to ask what he does, when the person he's been waiting for slides onto a stool. He almost drops his rag because he knows the guy.

"Stiles, how've you been?" Aidan asks.

He takes a breath and continues to wipe down the bar.

"I'm fine," he says, nodding politely.

Derek glances between them, still frowning. Of course Derek would work with this guy because that's how his life rolls.

"Can I get a drink?" Aidan asks.

Stiles smiles tightly.

"What would you like?"

"Whatever my friend here is having is fine," he replies.

Stiles glances at Derek, who's scowling so hard at the other guy it almost makes him laugh. He fixes the drink and can't help but glare at the wedding band on Aidan's finger. The guy was an ass, Stiles doesn't know what she sees in him.

"So, Derek, shall we?" he asks, pointing to a table a few feet away.

Derek huffs, but agrees.

"Oh and Stiles," Aidan calls, grinning.

Stile glares at him.

"Lydia says hi, by the way."

The glass he'd been holding thumps onto the counter and Aidan laughs. Stiles' heart is pounding and he really wants to punch this asshole in the face. He's instantly stepping around the bar, planning on doing exactly that, but Boyd holds him back. He sees Derek pulling Aidan away, who'd chuckled and taunted him to come at him. Stiles struggles for a minute, but Boyd is a mountain.

"It's not worth it, man, come on," he mutters.

Stiles and Aidan stare each other down until the former finally agrees that no, getting fired for punching this jerk isn't worth it. He backs off and his coworker tells him to cool off outside, which he does. Stiles seriously doesn’t know what Lydia sees in him. When he thinks about how this man is raising his kid-

Stiles shakes his head. She made it clear, the kid isn't his, whether that's biologically false or not. She's right though. After what happened, he doesn't deserve any rights over that child. Stiles pushes the thoughts away, counting his breathing like he'd been taught as a child. He's only out there for about ten minutes when he hears shouting from inside. Rushing back, he finds the two men in a heated argument, something about finances or fraud. Stiles can’t really follow it. What he does know is that by the end of it Aidan is in Derek's face, threatening someone named Cora and that's when Derek's fist goes flying. He gets in a few good punches before Aidan tackles him to the ground. Boyd jumps into the fray, pulling Aidan off the other. Stiles doesn't hesitate to intervene when Derek gets up for another attack, holding the man back. Derek surprisingly doesn't fight him and is visibly trying to calm down.

"If you ever go near her, I-" Derek starts.

"You'll what? What are you gonna do, Derek?" Aidan chuckles.

Stiles thinks he could do plenty, if the hard muscle he's feeling beneath Derek's sleeve is anything to go by. Derek does shake him off then, advancing on Aidan, but Boyd pulls him away and eventually shoves the guy right out the door.

Stiles glances at Derek and gently prods him to sit at the bar again and the man follows willingly. He scoops up some ice and wraps it in a dish towel.

Derek quirks a brow and Stiles says, “For your hand.”

He takes it after a few seconds, nodding a thank you.

“’Nother round?” Stiles offers.

The man sighs and glances at his watch.

“No, I should really get home,” he says, but doesn’t move to leave.

“Sorry about, you know, the fight,” he mumbles.

Stiles snorts and say, “Dude, don’t be sorry. You punched Aidan in the face. You are officially on my list of favorite people.”

Derek’s lips twitch in an almost smile, making Stiles full on grin.

“So, you a lawyer then?” he asks.

“No, I own the firm,” he replies.

“Huh,” Stiles says.

Derek nods and they’re quiet for a few minutes as Stiles cleans glasses.

“How do you know him?” Derek asks eventually.

Stiles fumbles the glass because he has no idea how to answer that.

“He, uh, well, it’s a long story,” he eventually stutters.

He looks away, not wanting to talk about it and Derek thankfully drops it. The guy takes out his wallet to pay, but Stiles tells him it’s on the house. It earns him another lip twitch and Stiles suddenly wonders what a real smile would look like.

“A tip then,” he says, sliding a bill across the counter.

Derek leaves after that and Stiles doesn’t watch him go because that would be unprofessional. He picks up the folded bill and almost chokes on air because he just got a hundred dollar tip. Not even the regulars tip that well. Derek has moved to number 3 on his list of favorite people, right after Scott and Allison.

Stiles lingers around the bar after closing and is surprised when Boyd starts chatting to him about some band they have in common. Though unexpected, it’s definitely welcome. He’d been working at this place for about 2 months and he and his new coworker really haven’t said much to each other. Apparently he’s lived in Beacon Hills his entire life, but he was home-schooled, which explains why they never met. They talk about simple things like movies, books, music, television shows, etc. After an hour there’s an awkward moment of silence and Boyd pulls out two beers, handing him one.

“No thanks,” he says, waving it off.

Boyd looks a little disappointed, making Stiles sigh and reach into his back pocket. He flips his 5 month chip onto the counter and awaits the inevitable, but Boyd surprises him again by simply nodding.

“Gotta face your problems sooner or later, right?” he murmurs.

Stiles huffs a laugh and nods in return. They part ways after that, going home to sleep after a long shift. His apartment is only a few blocks away, but he’s not stupid enough to walk it. Not in this neighborhood, not at night. He even runs across the parking lot to get to his jeep as fast as possible. There’s a chance he’s being a bit paranoid, but it’s better to be safe than sorry around here.

Derek doesn’t stop in for another week, leaving Stiles’ nights completely uneventful and boring. The night he does show, Stiles isn’t bashful about greeting him with a wide smile.

#teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek #sterek fanfiction #bartender stiles #human au #short stories #flash fiction