and the worst thing is that there is still enough dorks to make a part three

Thank You, Hoya.

As I type this, I am admittedly an ugly mess. I woke up from a nap this evening & I saw an article that came out a few minutes beforehand about Hoya’s contract renewal, saying that he did not go through with it. Groggily, I clicked on it, not thinking much.

I sat wide awake as I read the sentence once, twice, over and over and my mind couldn’t even properly process it. Leaving?? Actually leaving???

Let me back up, as in, a few months before all this unfolded. Infinite was supposed to come back in May, as announced in their third fan-meeting and everything.  Sunggyu was having health issues and the comeback naturally got pushed back. Their 7th Anniversary eventually came around, but I kinda felt like it was a quiet celebration. There were a few SNS posts, but no annual live broadcast, apparently due to issues with gathering all the members in one place. (When they said this, I thought to myself, ‘This is their SEVENTH anniversary, but they can’t even get together just for that???’ *sad but also equally confused face*). Their contracts came to an end, but there was no official word of their next steps for quite a while. In the middle, we got a little announcement that discussions were still going on and that they were all headed in a positive direction. Weeks trickled past. It was rumored that all re-signed except for one member, supposedly L, but that was just a false report. Three excruciating months later, it is revealed that everyone but Hoya renewed their contract with Woollim Ent. And then the next day, they announced his departure from the company, and the group completely.

I honestly did not see it coming. Throughout these three anxiety-filled months, I kept preparing myself for the worst, which was presumably an official disbandment. But never in the slightest could I imagine a falling apart. A break up?? The loss of a piece that makes them whole? Not hiatus, not disbandment, not separate ways, but the genuine departure of a member. An entire member. I just……….. of all groups to ever pull this off (and we all know that plenty of 2nd gen. groups have been through this, GG, Teen Top, Beast, 2NE1, Apink, Girls’ Day, etc.) INFINITE was one to follow this….. “trend”. This wretched trail of pain that way too many groups have crossed several times.

Before I go into how I feel overall, I just want to make it clear that of course, I will still support Infinite as 6 members, and Hoya in his personal endeavors unconditionally, no matter what. I’ve literally been following them for over 6 frking years now, how could I just abandon any of them like that? No, lol, I’m in way too deep, y’all. So yes, I will never ever ever everrrrrrrrrr bash or disrespect their decisions in any way. I will, of course, wholeheartedly accept this with open arms because that is what true fans do. And if anything, considering that this is what we’ve come to after THREE entire months, doesn’t that just further prove to us how hard this probably was for the members, and staff, and just everyone else collectively? Clearly, a lot of thought went into this. This wasn’t impulsive. This is for the better, and I will fully respect that.


HOWEVER, I am, after all, a fking diehard Inspirit and these boys have literally defined my years as I’ve matured into an adult. They’ve been with me through thick and thin, and as I like to say, my “part-time lifeline”. Even though I almost basically despise current kpop (I will say this several times, but 2nd gen. kpop is dead & gone and that’s something I will mourn for a while), Infinite has always been there. They are my Day 1′s, and as time went on, even when I got extremely busy w/ junior & senior year of high school, I still tried my best to keep up with them, support them, and just honestly, thank them. For being there. Because even as all these years passed before my eyes, they were still here, ALL 7 of them, still occasionally coming back with music for fans, still being Infinite. Just being Infinite. And I was (and still am) so eternally thankful for that. I watched groups lose members, go on hiatuses, or completely fall apart left and right, but Infinite promised us time and time again that they would be there no matter what. I can’t say this enough, but seriously, from the bottom of my heart, when I had time to just reflect on the years, I was just so so so so overwhelmingly thankful for them. 


And so 1 member leaving was just……. it broke me to pieces. I was utterly, completely devastated. Because it was simply a reality I never saw coming. One I never wanted to believe in. I wanted to keep believing that they would continue on as seven for as long their hearts could desire, just as they’ve been doing for all these years. That they’d surpass Shinhwa, and be the longest-lasting boy group to exist, unchanged since debut. That they are family, brothers for life, that they would never separate in such a way. Not to say that they aren’t family anymore. But that their bond of trust would transcend any notions of breaking apart.


But really. It’s okay. Nothing lasts forever, and I know that very well. All good things must come to an end. And that is what I’ve had the most trouble dealing with ever since I read that sentence. This is the end of an era for the boys. This marks a new journey where nothing will be the same as it was before, for better or for worse, who knows yet. But we all have to say goodbye to the Infinite that existed before today. And that’s what’s really hard for me. That’s what has got me looking like an ugly sobbing mess for a good 8 hours today LOL. Because it’s really hard for me to say farewell so suddenly. But the storm will pass, with time.


And with that, I want to once again, thank Infinite, thank Hoya, thank the world for letting these boys shine brightly for the past 7 years, and to hopefully continue to shine even brighter for years to come. Thank you so much Hoya, for being such a pillar (—holy fck hold up, I never thought I’d be typing these words and now im a mess again, great) within Infinite.



Thank you for being the iconic dancing machine within Infinite.

Thank you for not only rapping impressively, but singing stunningly as well.

Thank you for venturing into the acting scene & pulling off amazing characters like in Reply 1997, Mask, My Lovely Girl, Radiant Office, and more.

Thank you for being a complete bora-dori.

Thank you for constantly expressing your passion for hip hop (remember when he talked about when he was younger, he even wished he was black??? AHAHAH good times :’)), whether it was through Infinite H, self-composed raps/songs, or your personal Youtube channel.

Thank you for gifting us with your iconic bitch face. (This might honeslty be the biggest thing I miss LOL jk jk ily hoya adjakfjlkf i cant rn)

Thank you for being a dork/dick half the time and always roasting the members without shame.

Thank you for yes, ddabong to u too times 5805925 LOL

Thank you for developing from that awk, Busan boy into a resilient Seoul man HAHAHHA proud of u tho

Thank you for your brows because we all know they were ur focal point ;)

Originally posted by namgyusoo

Thank you for also unleashing ur inner hoaegi sometimes

Thank you for sincerely being one of the most passionate members ever. I think I can safely say that no one put more energy and fervor into a performance than you did.

and just…

Thank you for being a part of Infinite for these past 7 years. At this very moment, I cannot imagine an Infinite without you. I will miss everything you have given us, and more than anything, thank you for working so hard.

호원아
고생했어
사랑해 ❤

this-is-ske  asked:

1, for the fictional kiss prompts! And i cant possibly choose a pairing so... surprise me~ XD

1: Breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that they’re murmuring into each other’s mouths.

Hope you’re okay with some logince kissing. There are some other kisses in this, too… Apparently my brain cannot write a small, cute scene without creating an entire scenario around it. Anyway, please enjoy the fluff!

Pairing: Logince.

Words: 1723 words.

Triggers/warnings: none.


Compromise was… necessary.

After careful evaluation of the actions and words of the others and himself, Logan concluded that he would indeed have to compromise. As much as it pained him, he could see that his personal view was not always… 100% correct… or desired, so to speak.

Of course, he couldn’t just give the others (mainly Patton and Roman) free reign whenever Thomas fell in love. That would be illogical, after all. But maybe… maybe, if he learned more about the concept and experience of love, maybe he could coordinate his actions with theirs and keep them from getting lost in their dreams and fantasies.

That was why he knocked on Roman’s door. The prince was definitely surprised to see him when he opened the door, because while they did see each other and talk outside of videos, they rarely sought each other out.

Keep reading

The Real You

Summary: Danny doesn’t have a crush on Stiles. No way.

Notes: Another one for @inell, who wanted Stiles/Danny and “be nice to your seat partner, they might just be your future spouse!” This is an AU where nothing supernatural happened in Beacon Hills. (On AO3)


Danny always hates the start of every school year. There’s a new schedule to learn, a new locker to find, and an influx of baby-faced freshman wandering around. There are also new teachers, new classes, and most importantly, new seating assignments.

He has to stifle a groan when he discovers that his desk-mate for English is none other than Stilinski. He’s weird and awkward, and only ever seems to hang out with his one dorky friend. Danny does not need him bringing down his reputation.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

A bit late and possibly more than you want to deal with, but I suppose I just want to get it out of my head: Barring my therapist, no. I don't have anyone telling me I deserve love, and even if I did, I wouldn't believe them. I'm still struggling with the concept that I deserve *life.* Love's a bit much.

Hey anon, first, I don’t know where your head is right now, but if you’re anywhere near that point, please call a suicide prevention line (here: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/talk-to-someone-now/) or if you need it, an LGBT centered one (here: https://www.ostem.org/crisis-hotlines).

It is okay to take baby steps with your mental health. It’s okay to start by convincing yourself that you deserve to live, and then moving on to bigger things. I don’t know where you are, but I can promise you that staying alive helps, a lot.

I don’t know who you are or anything about you, but as a statistical matter, I am almost certain to be older than you are–I see people calling themselves “tumblr olds” who are dozens of years younger than I am–and while that certainly doesn’t make me any smarter, it does mean that I have a little more perspective.

I have always had cyclical, deep depression–starting from the time I was about ten–which left me so dark that it scared me sometimes. When I was younger, I didn’t know why I was such a bad person, and why I had those thoughts. (It didn’t help that my parents raised me in a very conservative religion and I was absolutely queer.) I was utterly miserable, and for the most part, I never told anyone how bad it was–I didn’t start talking about this thing I didn’t understand until I was 19 or 20.

I remember telling a friend that I felt like I was in an elliptical orbit around hell, that every time I thought I was getting farther away, I got pulled back in. I didn’t think it was possible to get away. And my friend–who was, like me, an incredible dork–responded that I needed to remember that if you want to achieve escape velocity from an elliptical orbit, I needed to accelerate when I was going down.

For years, that was the thing I pushed for: escape velocity. I was going to reach escape velocity. One day, I was going to push hard enough, and do the right thing, and I would escape this thing that kept coming back to me and clouding my mind. When times were bad, I worried about the opposite: that this time, I would come crashing down. It would be irretrievable. I wouldn’t make it.

(At the time, I didn’t have a name for this thing; nobody I was around talked about mental health, and it never occurred to me that I had a real issue.)

So I pushed. I tried hard. I tried everything I could. And there were times when all I could try was to just keep living another day, so I did that. I had about fifteen years of my life where all I could think was that maybe next time I wouldn’t get out.

But here’s the thing. Every time I went down, I learned something new. I didn’t know I was learning it, but I was. I learned coping skills. I learned how to least fuck over other people when I dropped the basket containing all the eggs. I learned how to take care of myself. I learned how to exist as myself, and not anyone else.

It got better. It got familiar. I discovered that the thing I had had a name, and that I wasn’t just an incredibly bad, stupid, lazy person. I tried every last thing I could find on a list that had been clinically proven to alleviate the symptoms of depression, and my list of coping skills got even longer. I learned to be nice to myself (a little), to give myself a wide margin, and to trust that even though I would never achieve escape velocity from my depression, the cyclical nature of my orbit meant that it would ebb and flow. The patterns became familiar, and I learned to trust myself to navigate through them.

My depression has never gotten better, but I have. I am not stronger than my depression, but I know how to work with it, how to carve out a space that is me and recognize my right to exist and be happy in a framework that is hostile to my existence.

Sometime in the last five years or so, I’ve came to another realization. I have friends who are neurotypical, ones that I went to college or grad school or whatever with. They’ve all been working stable jobs doing adult things for their entire life, and I… uh, I have not been able to hold down a so-called adult job for more than three years at a time. 

(It’s okay, it’s still possible to make money and not be an adult.)

I spent the last weekend at a reunion for one of the groups I was with–highly intelligent, highly successful people who have pretty much universally reached the pinnacle of acclaim. And then there is me.

I sat with friends I knew twelve years ago when I was starting over after another devastating bout of failure, and they were fresh-faced and new. They’re all hitting their midlife crisis. The one where they realize they’ve been working at this thing forever and they’re making money and they have a big home and a garden and blah blah blah and what the hell is all of this for, anyway?

I try to talk them, gently, through my coping skills. Have you considered switching jobs? Have you considered working just part time? What about learning something new just for the hell of it? What if you took two weeks off and just slept? What if you binge-watched a brand new show? I highly recommend Yuri on Ice, you should watch it, do!

To a person, my friends look at me in bafflement and say, “I can’t do that, how could I do that? I think I just have to shrug and keep going.”

I’ve spent most of my life learning how to exist, how to be happy, in crises mode. They have never, ever had to figure that out. I have had to be flexible my entire life; they’ve become brittle to the point of being unable to bend. I used to ask myself, “What could I be if I wasn’t depressed?”

I pretty much know now. If I wasn’t depressed, I wouldn’t be happy. Not the way I am. My happiness is my most important coping skill. Before I do anything, I have to ask, “Is this going to make me miserable?” I’ve learned through experience that I cannot handle any degree of misery, not for any length of time. 

I have been forced through the crucible of my depression to seek delight. When I was younger, I thought I would never, ever be happy. I kept going, and I kept believing it was possible, and even though right now, I am on the gentle upswing of one of the worst depressions I have experienced in a decade, I am, deep down, happy.

And I was surrounded by people this last weekend who were subtly jealous of me.

I wouldn’t wish my depression on anyone. I wouldn’t. Depression is terrible and impossible.

But I promise you, that if you keep going, you will learn coping skills. You will gradually discover things that help. You will build up an arsenal of self-protection. 

And thirty years from now, you’ll be talking to the friends you envy now for their ability to function in a normal way, and they’ll all tell you that they wish they could do what you do, but it’s just not possible, it’s just not possible.

And you? You’ll have been living with the impossible all your life. To you, the impossible will be easy.

I don’t know if this will be helpful at all. I’m not a counselor. I don’t know how to help someone in crises.

All I can say is that I have lived in crises all my life and it gets better. I wouldn’t wish my depression on anyone, but I’ve reached the point in my life where I am delighted to be myself. Every decade of my life is better than the last.

You deserve love. You deserve happiness. You deserve life. Even though I don’t know you, I know these things are true. I’m here from the other end to tell you to please stick it out, because even if you don’t believe these things now, one day, you will.

Tech Support

Rating: General Audiences
Word Count: 5750
Co-written by: syl-writes-stuff
Summary: @skimmingsurfaces​ sent me a prompt:  “‘I keep calling the IT center because you seem really cute’ au because Wirt and technology fails and he would so keep calling Dipper because Dipper is insanely cute.” I filled the prompt <3

Tech Support

“Thank you for calling Mystery Tech. For your awareness, this phone call may be recorded for quality assurance purposes. My name is Tyrone. How can I help you today?”

“Um. Right. H-hi. I don’t-” There was a gusty sigh. “My little brother got me a laptop, and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Tech support laughed. “Okay, no problem. Is there something specific that you’re trying to do?”

“I- Oh, no. Wait. Hold on. He can’t know I called tech support.” The caller’s voice was muffled. “I’m coming, Greg! Just give me five minutes!” Pause. “No, I know exactly what I’m doing and absolutely don’t need your help!” There was another pause before his voice became clear again. “I have no idea what I’m doing, and I need your help.”

Keep reading

Funnel Cake - Okieriete Onaodowan x Reader (Pt. 2 of Cotton Candy)

Summary: The story of the first date Oak takes you on after your meeting at the carnival. The universe loves to repeat itself, but it also loves to meddle. 

Warnings: A single swear word. Literally, that’s it. 

Word Count: 2,907 (I JUST GET CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS BALL OF SUNSHINE OKAY)

Request: @l-tay - Cotton Candy gave me MAJOR Oak feels. Part 2? Please? Pretty please with more tooth rotting fluff on top?

A/N: Okay so, when I started this I totally hated it, but by the time I finished it I really loved it. So there’s a mound of mixed feelings about this one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

askbox | masterlist


The worst part of a date, hands down, was the wait. The minutes that dragged on as you stare at the clock in anticipation, or the seconds that hurry by too fast for your grasp to hold on tight enough and be early for once in your goddamn life.

Keep reading

Misery Never Goes Out Of Style: Part 1 - Chapter 11

Pairing: Eventual G Dragon x Reader. 

Rating: Explicit.

Word Count: 8,076

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, feelings, NSFW, and language. 

Author’s Note: This is the end of Part 1. Hope you like the nice, it won’t last.

Listening to Haven’t Had Enough by Marianas Trench and Bullshit by G Dragon

Here’s the Misery Never Goes Out Of Style Masterlist

Here’s my masterlist.. but it’s mostly Supernatural

Keep reading

hello, bright eyes (been waiting on you)

i… don’t really know what this disjointed mess is or where it came from or if it makes any sense, but apparently i ship it. which is, like, not really that much of a surprise, but i hadn’t ever planned on writing this.

“look underneath the underneath,” except no one has ever really bothered to look at sakura and see her. and then there is a boy (isn’t there always). maybe they’re both just ghosts, making each other real. saisaku, 2,500+ words, non-canon compliant for the war.


xv.

“You will never replace Sasuke,” Sakura spits at him. “You’re nothing. You mean nothing. Do you understand?”

At the very least, her forearm collapsing his trachea has wiped that empty meaningly smile off his face.

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The 4 Times Gladion Helped You Out

Title: The 4 times Gladion helped you out (and the 1 time he helped himself)

Note: So here’s another thing that got out of hand. It’s that How To Be Single AU but I fixed the ending!!

Pairing: Gladion x Reader or Gladion x Moon (surprise surprise) if you prefer. Hau x Lillie.

1.

You’ve always known what kind of guy you wanted in life.

It didn’t hit you until you started looking for him that there were rules and barriers and codes of conduct for that sort of thing. You always thought it would be simple as meeting a guy in the everyday and getting to know each other, like your best friends Lillie and Hau, happily married for almost a year. In fact, they’re so happy that sometimes you just want to get away from them. Which, brings you to…

“You done staring at my bar?”

Keep reading

When You Come Home (Part 2 of 3)

Part One | Masterlist

Pairing: Lin-Manuel x Reader

Summary: Enjoy the ride, kids.

Warnings: Did we mention #pain before? Because #pain is coming.

Word Count: 14,114 (and you thought part one was long lmao)

A/N: We have been absolutely floored by all of the incredibly kind responses to part one and we have been itching to give you this for days. Honestly, we can’t thank you enough for reading this pile of garbage and saying such nice things about it, and we hope that you still like us after you read this. So here we go, part TWO of THREE! (you can get through this, we believe in you)

Also: here’s a playlist that we’ve been making and listening to over the course of writing this fic. You should totally listen to it while you read this part… for the immersive experience.

-Team GTNW-


“This is literally the worst,” he groaned as he lied flat on his back on his mattress, staring up at the stucco ceiling. “Do you know how pathetic this makes us?”

You didn’t know. It wasn’t too big of a deal for you because in your mind, there was always something else that was somehow within reach yet still unbelievably unattainable. But even then, just knowing that you had this regardless of whether or not it was reciprocated was sufficient enough for you.

“I think you’re blowing everything out of proportion,” you huffed as you rolled your eyes, already fed up with his gripe that was lasting more than the five minutes you anticipated it would. With a copy of 1984 opened up and dying to be read in your hands, you just wanted it to be over. “It’s really not that bad.”

Keep reading

Dork

Requested by: anon
Request: I was wondering if you could write one where spencer gets slightly jealous that Morgan calls the reader baby girl and that sort of thing and have a friendship similar to the one that Morgan and Garcia have, and spencer acts kind of distant to everyone and keeps looking up at the reader idk if this makes sense but then she confronts him and he confesses his feelings just fluff pretty much. Yea I love your writing, thank you sm

————————————————––————––

You had been working at the Behavioral Analysis Unit for almost three years now. Since you started, you had grown to love each and every member as if they were all part of your family - because they were, really. But you’d always had a special bond with Morgan.
He was your first friend on the team. The first day you met, he’d forgotten your name and just settled for calling you “princess.” He still calls you that even after three years. He was like your big brother. You went to him for advice, when you were having a bad day, you even went to him when you needed to talk about a certain guy in your life. He was always there when you needed him, and you knew he always would be.
You sighed as you took a seat at your desk. You hated paperwork. You glanced up to see Reid jetting through his and shook your head with a smile - the man amazed you. Besides Morgan, Reid was probably your best friend out of everyone else on the team. You two spent the most time together outside of work, and you had plenty of stuff in common, but Reid was too someone you thought of as a brother figure. You didn’t know what you felt towards him, but you knew it was strong and special, and absolutely terrifying.
“Hey, Spence? You should take some of my stack.” You suggested teasingly, pointing to the giant stack of files on your desk and sticking your bottom lip out slightly, earning a smile and chuckle from the man. He didn’t say anything, just rolled his chair across the room to your desk and took nearly half of the stack. Your eyes widened as you shook your head, trying to reach for the files, but he was already rolling back to his desk. “Spence, I was kidding. You don’t have to do those.” You said, sending him a grateful smile anyway.
“I know.” He said, his eyes never leaving the paperwork. “Just make it up to me later.” He added, sending you a nervous smile.
“How?” You asked, raising your eyebrows and waiting for him to suggest some kind of weird movie night at his place. However, you never knew what he was going to say, because before he could answer he was interrupted by Morgan.
“Morning, Princess.” He said, kissing the top of your head and smiling down at you. “Morning, Pretty Boy.” He added, nodding at Reid. Reid raised his hand and let out a sigh, going back to his paperwork with his shoulders slumped slightly. He didn’t talk to you for the rest of the day, or any other day for that matter.
For two weeks, he’d avoided you and the team as much as he could. He didn’t speak unless he was spoken to, or unless it was something important to the case. He didn’t go out with the rest of the team and he didn’t joke around with you like he used to. You didn’t know what you did, but you’d make sure you found out.
“Hey, Spence?” You walked up to his desk and sat on the corner, staring down at the man. “I have to talk to you about something really important. Will you meet me in the break room?” You asked, watching as he sighed and hesitated before finally standing up and following you. When you got there, you shut the door behind you and stood in front of it with your arms crossed.
“Alright, Reid. What the hell is wrong with you?” You questioned, using your best glare to stare him down. “You’ve said about fifteen words to me in two weeks. You act like being around me is the worst thing imaginable. What did I do?” You sighed, searching his eyes for some kind of answer. “If you didn’t want to be my friend, you just had to say it.”
“Stop.” Spencer said, holding his hands up and shaking his head. “It isn’t that, I promise.” He added quickly, sighing and looking at the floor.
“Then tell me what it is!” You laughed. You just wanted to fix whatever had went wrong. You missed Spencer. “Talk to me, Spence. Please?”
“Alright, fine. I like you, Y/N. A lot. And it’s pretty obvious that you feel nothing like that towards me…I mean, I’m no Morgan. So, I thought that by pulling back, it’d be easier to get over this feeling…” He admitted, finally meeting your gaze and swallowing thickly.
You didn’t say anything. You just stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his neck. Soon enough, you felt his arms wrap around your waist and you smiled, pressing your face into his shoulder and sighing contently. “By the way, I like you too, Dork.”

——————————————————————

I hope you like this! If not, I’m sorry! I tried, haha! I’m sorry it took so long. I’ve been so busy with school and just a bunch of other things!!

If you like this, send me requests! If not, I appreciate constructive criticism! Please be nice tho bc im a v sensitive bean ://

Thank you! I love y'all! xx

@machine-dove sent me a message yelling about my tags on this post and said I had to write the ficlet.

I’m always a slut for prompts, so…


The thing was, Steve would swear in the years that followed, he really felt like him and Bucky had been dancing around this for months.  They’d been best friends for years, for as far back as either of them could remember, but after the weirdness that had been middle school there’d been a charge there, a spark of something humming beneath the surface of their interactions that both excited and scared the hell out of them.  

Or out of Steve, anyway.  He’d finally gotten the nerve to admit - to himself and his friends and loved ones - that he had a thing for both girls and guys at the start of eleventh grade, and while he didn’t have dates of either sex lining up to ask him out, it had at least cleared the air between him and Bucky.  And when Buck had broken up with his last girl of the month, four months ago (not that Steve was keeping track), and they’d started constantly hanging out together again, like old times… well, there was a nasty little voice in Steve’s head that couldn’t help reading more into it.

Especially when Bucky insisted sharing milk shakes when they went out after school, or popcorn when they went to the movies, or letting Steve borrow his Varsity jacket when he accidentally/on purpose forgot to bring his own coat to the Homecoming game they’d gone stag to.  There was definitely something there, something more than Steve had ever dreamed of hoping for - but while one mean side of him liked to point out the possibility of his best friend becoming something even more, the other, meaner side always shut him down: making sure to remind Steve as harshly as possible just how delusional he was being.

Because Bucky, even if he was single, had never once expressed an interest in being with other guys.  And even if he had, Buck was so far out of Steve’s league that it wasn’t funny.  He was smart - honor council this year, top of their class since he’d first transferred to Brooklyn in elementary school - he was on student council, starting pitcher for the varsity baseball team as  a sophomore, a key player in every drama production Washington High had put on since he’d started there.  People were tripping over the opportunity to hang out with Bucky Barnes, never mind the chance to date him.  And Steve… Steve was just Steve.  Scrawny asthmatic with a chip on his shoulder, painfully average student and GSA representative.  He was a decent artist when people took the time to actually look at his work, and Bucky swore up and down that he was funny as hell, but for the most part Steve knew that the only reason he wasn’t regularly getting shoved in lockers anymore was because he was most famous for being Bucky Barnes’ best friend.

Steve was an idiot for even imagining that he had a chance with someone as perfect as Bucky, but he wasn’t so stupid that he’d go and risk something as important as their friendship by asking him out.

Besides, they hung out so often that Steve felt he could pretty safely pretend they were dating.  In the deepest, darkest corners of his mind.  And if ninety-nine percent of his schmoopy fan art of late was based on an AU of Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne as dorky high school boyfriends that maybe bore a little bit of a resemblance to the dumb shit that the two of them did together?  Well… no one needed to know.

It got more hits to his blog, at least.

That said, there were still nights when Steve’s stupid brain couldn’t help but wish.  So when Bucky had sent his text on the Sunday before the MLK Holiday, when Steve was already pouting about the fact that he couldn’t join him in their volunteer plans because his stupid head had decided to come down with a stupid cold, well… Steve couldn’t help feeling a little reckless.

Text from Bucky Received 09:32 PM

What do you wear to bed?

Keep reading

Begin Again: Chapter 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 End
Word count: 2,373
Warnings: a couple of swear words, mention and brief description of a panic attack
(Tags at the end)


Bucky had been standing at the head of the bench press spotting Steve for the past twenty minutes, only half concentrating on his friend. Steve could handle dropping the weight on himself, probably. His mind was still reeling from the conversation he had had with you last night on the balcony. He had woken up at two in the morning and had ran into you in the kitchen when he got up to make himself some green tea to calm himself down.

He figured Sam had been exaggerating, but dammit the tea actually helped. 

Bucky knew that as much as you liked to talk, you also treasured your peace and so he hadn’t expected for your eyes to widen momentarily as you took in his panic-stricken form. You had been in the compound for … almost a month? And yet it was so easy to open up to you.

‘What are you thinking so hard about?’ Steve panted. 

Bucky blinked, losing his staring contest with the wall opposite. ‘Nothing,’ 

‘If you wanted to ask her out, she’d say yes.’

Bucky snapped out of his daze, looking down at his friend, but stayed calm. Steve was a dork but he was also observant, especially when it came to his teammates. Bucky wasn’t surprised that Steve picked up on his crush. 

‘I don’t think so,’ Bucky replied, abandoning Steve on the bench and hooking up a punching bag at the opposite end of the room. ‘She’s just being friendly.’

Steve smirked. ‘She doesn’t take the time to coax everyone back to sleep, Buck.’

Bucky blushed furiously. ‘How’d you know about that? And she doesn’t do it all the time, just happened like twice.’ 

‘Still, that’s more than enough.’

Bucky tried to suppress his broad smile. ‘You know she told me to screw Hydra,’ he chuckled.

‘What?’ Steve laughed breathlessly, resting the bar in place and sitting up.

‘No seriously, it was awesome,’ Bucky said. ‘I mean, I appreciate everyone’s patience but I think I needed to hear that.’

‘You’re only proving my point,’ Steve said knowingly. 

Bucky made a face and shook his head. ‘We’re friends, Steve, but I don’t think she’d want someone with so much baggage. Relationships are different.’

‘You’re just talking hypothetically,’ Steve argued. 

‘Steve, she -’ Bucky scowled. ‘She’s like the sun, y’know? She’s so good at everything I’m terrible at and she’s so smart and she’s gonna graduate from college and have this fancy high-tech job and fucking live this life that I can’t be a part of because I’m still trying to learn what the fuck this century even is!’

Steve surveyed his friend as he voiced all his thoughts that had been accumulating for the past few weeks; maybe longer, maybe since he had come out of cryo in Wakanda. It wasn’t news to Bucky that his experience under Hydra was an unfortunate, horrific chain of events that were never a result of his own doing, and although Bucky was still healing from his past he didn’t quite need to be comforted as much on the issue. It was that Bucky felt like he was falling behind; it was combination of his PTSD and his frustration with his PTSD, and the incredibly rational fear of his captors and the organisation they were part of. Bucky was just scared. 

‘I really like her but I like being her friend and I don’t … I don’t want to push my luck.’


After three weeks of living in the compound, the butterflies in your stomach were getting increasingly harder to ignore. Around you, Bucky completely eased into this charming, dorky, guy whose smile could reverse climate change and outshine the sun. 

The worst part was that there was a completely rational part of you that was content with being Bucky’s friend - not only that, but that part of you knew that it was the best thing for him. The man was only just starting to adjust to life here after seventy years spent as a weapon, two spent alone trying to salvage bits and pieces of himself to construct a new level of normalcy, and then ending up in the middle of a crisis resulting in being sent back into cryo. Bucky didn’t need a love life, he needed a friend (besides mum-friend Steve) and you were more than happy to fill in the blanks. 

And then there was the irrational, irritating part of you that wanted nothing more than for Bucky to grab you and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. You wanted everything you had with him now - the times when you taught him basic mechanics, binge-watching Parks and Recreation after everyone had gone to sleep, midnight pizzas, and drag races (him in one of Stark’s flashy cars, you on your first born child-slash-motorcycle) … You just wanted to kiss him while you did all of that. 

And of course there was the one most poignant worst moment of your life where you and Bucky were driving together just to get some time away from the bustle of the compound; the sun was setting, highlighting the sky with brilliant fiery oranges and golden hues and the light kissed his skin and made his eyes glow like stars or water when the moonlight hit it just right. There was a comfortable silence in the car, save for the music coming from your phone which you had plugged into the speaker system. You were passing through the older, more crooked part of Brooklyn when Bucky knitted his eyebrows and said -

‘I think I used to live here.’

You turned in the passenger’s seat to face him. ‘Really? How can you tell?’

Bucky turned the car back around, circling around the block. ‘There’s gotta be a street sign somewhere,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Yeah, look!’

Bucky ended up parking the car on the pavement. You both got out and he lead you down between two decrepit apartment buildings; the fire escapes were rusting, black paint chipped, and the brickwork was starting to crumble. Still, with the way the setting sun was hitting the buildings and casting long shadows from the window panes across the walls, it was picturesque. 

Bucky made a point of walking next to you, so close that your arms brushed together. He had his hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket.

‘It used to be kinda sketchy,’ he admitted by means of explanation. ‘But Steve and I lived close to each other and there was this lady who lived with her niece next door and they were always real nice to us. Steve and I used to babysit her niece in the summer while she was at work …’

You smiled at him as he spoke endlessly about his days here. It was the first time he had told you memories of his past before Bucharest, before Hydra, before that period of time where his lifeline knotted and frayed and unraveled. You knew that Steve must have been aiding Bucky in regaining his memories and that there was a time where Bucky held no emotion for the things that he remembered while he tried to place himself back in some sort of timeline, but right here you sensed that Bucky knew he had reasons to be happy. It was all you could ever really ask for, all you realised you wanted for him.

Bucky broke off his sentence, looking at you and realising you had been staring at him. ‘And, yeah, that’s - that’s how we …’

You smirked at his blush and looked away. 

‘What?’ Bucky ducked his head down, smiling nervously, that animated glint still prevalent in his eyes.

You shook your head lightly unable to stifle your smile. ‘Your Brooklyn accent was getting really strong there.’

Living in the compound also meant picking up on the habits of your housemates, meaning you soon found that your window of solidarity rested between one and five o’clock in the morning. No one slept before eleven; people would start to wake at five; no one slept after nine a.m. (except Wanda who, like you, appreciated the art of sleeping until the sun was high in the sky sometimes. You really liked Wanda); Between eleven at night and one in the morning, Sam, Natasha, and Bucky would be playing video games and binge-eating. You loved the team but you also loved being alone sometimes. 

Which was why you were surprised to see Steve in the kitchen at two in the morning. If not asleep, he should have been in the gym.

‘Shouldn’t you be beating the living sand out of a punching bag, Cap?’ you asked as you dug around in the fridge looking for last night’s leftovers. You’d be damned if Sam got to the vegetable lo mein before you did.

‘I wanted to talk to you,’ he replied. 

‘How’d you know I’d be awake?’

‘FRIDAY monitors our activity,’ said Steve smiling somewhat tauntingly; his arms were folded over his chest. ‘I figured a genius such as yourself would know that over a hundred year old man.’

You rolled your eyes. ‘What do you want, Steve?’

‘What’s going on between you and Bucky?’

You choked on the mouthful of noodles, eyes streaming as you took several sips of water to calm yourself down. 

‘What?’ you coughed.

Steve seemed completely unphased by your shock. He didn’t say anything. 

‘Me … Bucky and I - no, there’s nothing,’ you said trying to sound calm.

Steve stayed quiet.

‘I’m serious,’ you emphasised. 

Steve blinked. 

You scoffed. ‘I think Barnes is a little too old for me, Cap, no thanks. We’re just friends, I’m catching him up on something called the twenty-first century, mother, so - I don’t think so.’

There was another beat of silence where your heartbeat pounded in your ears and blood crept up your neck, a blush colouring your cheeks.

Steve quirked an eyebrow and smiled. ‘He’s the same way.’

You paused. ‘What?’

‘He likes you.’

You shook your head and smiled self-deprecatingly. ‘I know that relationships work a little differently now but you’re reading too much into this, Cap. Bucky and I are friends.’

‘I haven’t seen him like this - ever,’ Steve added. ‘Even when we were in high school, Bucky was never this carefree.’

‘It doesn’t matter, Steve,’ you said firmly. ‘I don’t even like him, I have the emotional range of a grape.’

‘That’s not true.’ The bastard didn’t even acknowledge your grape comment. 

‘Steve, I’m not some saving grace that’s gonna get Bucky out of whatever pit he’s in.’

‘That’s the point though, that’s why he likes you,’ Steve implored. ‘Bucky’s been through hell and all he wants is to move on from that. Stark and Natasha thought it best to throw him into missions to get his mind focused but you’re grounding him. I don’t wanna sound dramatic -’

‘You are dramatic, Captain I-Don’t-Need-A-Parachute,’ you grumbled.

‘But you’re basically giving Bucky a reason to be happy here.’

‘Anyone who makes that guy a new arm would,’ you muttered. ‘And that doesn’t mean that he feels anything for me.’

‘You don’t see the way he looks at you,’ Steve argued, ‘and he’s too shy to say anything.’

You stared at him, speechless, with your arms folded, your snack abandoned on the kitchen counter. How does he look at me? The question was on the tip of your tongue but …

‘Bucky’s nice and all, Steve, but I don’t think he’s interested,’ you mumbled. ‘Now,’ you cleared your throat, ‘if you aren’t going to damage Tony’s gym equipment, then I will.’ 

On your way out, you passed through the dead silent corridor, pausing when you noticed that Bucky’s door was ajar. Approaching cautiously, with a stealth Natasha would be proud of, you peered through the gap.

Bucky was sitting on the edge of his bed hunched forward with his head in his hands breathing raggedly; Natasha was sitting next to him, close but not touching. You could hear her murmuring words you couldn’t understand - she was speaking in Russian. You remembered Natasha once saying that she wanted to give Bucky some positive affiliation with fragments of his past, including the language of Bucky’s days as the Winter Soldier.

Bucky was rubbing his hand harshly over his heart.His eyes were screwed shut.

Natasha must have sensed you were there because she looked up and beckoned you closer; as if pulled by an invisible string, you complied and sat by Bucky’s left side.

‘Barnes, you okay?’ you breathed, brow creasing when he nodded without looking up.

‘Breathe through your nose,’ you said in the same tone. ‘Nice and slow.’ You did the motions with him. ‘In … and out …’

Bucky repeated your instructions and you could tell by the gradual ease in his shoulders that his breathing was starting to regulate.

‘What happened?’ you murmured to Natasha.

She bit her lip. ‘Panic attack,’ she replied almost silently.

You looked briefly around you, eyes falling on a glass of water, full to the brim.

‘Is this …?’

‘Yeah,’ Nat replied. ‘I’ll leave you guys alone.’

You knelt down in front of him, one hand cupping the back of his neck and rubbing it gently with your thumb, and the other squeezing his knee. Keeping one hand on his neck, you brought the other to his chin, prompting him to look at you. His eyes were circled with darkening shadows and were streaming with fatigue. You smiled softly at him, brushing the hair at the nape of his neck soothingly.

‘I-it was -’

‘You’re fine,’ you hushed. ‘Breathe now, tell me later, yeah? We’ve got all the time in the world,’ you smirked gently.

It was like clockwork the way you were with him.

‘C’mon,’ you prompted, handing him the glass. ‘Small sips.’

You could feel another set of eyes boring into you and you shifted your eyes past Bucky’s figure and saw Steve watching you with a raised brow and a knowing smirk - past the despondency he felt for his friend - and then retreating to his room.

You ignored him, pushing his words to the back of your mind. You didn’t need his assumptions that Bucky felt anything non-platonic towards you; right now you just wanted Bucky to get his breathing back to normal and get some sleep.



Tags: @lauraonly @mytastereckless @hedakylo @wefracturedmotivation @eternal-queen @dontfuckwithkezolas @mrs-brxghtside @blackdemonseriexx

Uncharted - Part 9

Word Count: 2.6k (longer than usual lmao)

Warnings: Nothing in particular

A/n: I’m back y’all.. a little late but hey, it’s up. Also I’m gonna on a little adventure and see if I can find Tom holland. wHAT? yep, you heard me. Anyways, the place where he filmed his story is like 20 mins away from my house tbh… Part 1

Originally posted by totheendofthelinepal

The rest of the plane ride passes without incident. Other than feeling two eyes burn through all the layers of protection you had on. He hadn’t said anything since your last brief exchange, not that you were expecting him to. Steve had come in a few times and that was bittersweet.

You’d had to hold back the blonde super soldier more than once, knowing that if he went in to “check on Bucky” even if he was probably just looking to fawn over his long lost best friend. Although you knew you didn’t have a choice but to keep him at a distance, it still pained your heart to see Steve wanting to go and talk so bad, to reminisce. You reassured him plenty, saying that once they were back, he’d get to talk to him as much as he was willing to. Steve understood, of course, but he still sat slumped against his chair, his head resting in his palm.


He doesn’t do much. He was surprisingly still. He only fidgeted when someone entered the left wing or when you made movements to abrupt. You mentally made a note not to use a toaster around him.

He didn’t do any pacing, or tapping. He just crossed his long legs and sat comfortably against the far wall, making sure he had a vantage point of who came in and out of the room. His long hair was shaggy and hung low on his crystal blue eyes. His worn hands were crossed on his lap where the metal one still glinted from the fluorescent lights.

You were itching to ask him questions. You were naturally curious and he just… intrigued you. He seemed so reserved, asking anything was obviously pushing boundaries neither of you were ready to cross, given the fact that you just met and barely knew each other.  But, the prospect of getting to know him was strangely enticing, he lured you in. It was an odd feeling, one you definitely weren’t familiar with. Just sitting there, he was dominating the room, his presence was like a stone statue in a museum.

Maybe, there was a reason you were the one assigned with this “task”. You could handle a little bit  of intrigue while remaining professional.

Clint’s voice over the comms interrupts your thoughts. “20 mins till’ landing, guys.”

You hear some commotion on the other side of the jet and chuckle to yourself quietly. They might be superheroes on the news, but they’re just huge dorks to you. That’s when you catch him staring at you. He isn’t gaping or… admiring, he’s analyzing in a very non-threatening way. He looks like he’s gauging whether or not he could trust you, for real this time. He doesn’t do it predatorily, he isn’t stripping you and staring into your soul. He’s just, thinking.

“How’s Steve?” Are the first words he utters since the trip back began. You smiled fondly at the depth of emotion and meaning behind the words. Barely two, but enough to convey his worry, his concern, his sadness, his guilt, his pain and everything in between. It comes out rough, like sandpaper, but the look in his eyes is hopeful. That’s an improvement. Talking about Steve seemed to lighten his demeanour.

“He’s good,” you pause, he’s his best friend, might as well tell him everything, “But, he struggles still, waking up from the ice was hard on him. He has bad days, and he’s getting better at handling them.” You were about to add the fact that he misses Bucky, so much, it was a painful to watch sometimes.

Hearing countless stories of their childhood escapades, while Steve has that distance look in his eyes. The one that holds so much weight and bores holes into whatever surface he’s looking at. Whenever he has a flashback or a certain memory pops up, his shoulders sag and a frown is always present.

But sometimes, Steve sported a bittersweet smile that doesn’t quite light up his eyes. That’s probably worst than the hunched shoulders and distant stares.

You don’t tell him that, not yet, he’s got enough on his plate.

He doesn’t say anything, but he looks down at his lap and a flicker of sadness passes over his handsome features, you couldn’t help but notice it.

Before you could say anything, there’s a knock on the door and a head of blonde hair peeks through.

“(Y/n), Fury wants you in on the debriefing.” You internally groan, dreading the few hours to come. Debriefing was essential but it took years, Fury always wanted to go over every detail, most of the time whoever gets chosen to deal with the task just gets fed up and walks out. Maybe, it’s the curse of the newbie. “Buck, you gotta come with me.”

He nods and stands, his large frame towering over you. His body is turned towards you, hiding Steve’s view of your face.

For a second, he seems to panic. It’s obvious he’s uncomfortable, he’s going somewhere new, with people he doesn’t know, to do things he doesn’t know about. You had to go about this carefully, saying the wrong thing can trigger and damage and you definitely were too tired to deal with a Winter Soldier.

You decide to go with:” I’ll see you later, James.” And that seemed to be the right thing to say because, his shoulders aren’t as tense and relief seemed to flood into him like cool water on a hot summer day. You watched him walk out with a little bit more assurance in his steps.

You don’t stay to find out what’s going to happen to him, whatever it is, you know it wouldn’t be bad, but you had your fair share of James Buchanan Barnes for today and you needed to keep your mind off him and his blue eyes, tall frame and soft shaggy hair.

———

“Sir, with all due respect, we’ve gone over the same thing three times and I really just want a hot shower and some sleep.” You sigh exasperatedly. You’ve been in the conference room with Fury and Maria for well over two hours and you were starting to drift off right at the table.

“Alright, Agent (L/n). You are dismissed”Fury says.

Thank God. You didn’t if you could take another minute of going through your strategies and all the different contingency issues.

Walking out of the conference room, you shrug off your overcoat and trek the rest of the way to your apartment. Your feet drag across the floor and your limbs were heavy. Waiting in the elevator slumped against the wall felt like an eternity. And finally, the metal doors opened, just a few more feet until you’d be home.

But before you reached your door, you hear hushed voices arguing from Steve’s apartment, the door still slightly open.

You’re suddenly wide awake and you go into a stand-still, willing yourself to listen closely.

“I know you don’t like it Steve, but we have to.” You hear the voice that you recognize as Natasha.

“No we don’t! He’s not some wounded animal, Nat.  We can’t just keep him in there.”

That peeked your curiosity. Surprisingly, you hadn’t thought about Bucky since you got off the plane. But right now, your mind was racing. Where did he go after you left? Is he okay? Are they treating him right? Is he alone? What are they doing to him?
You feel your heart racing with worry.

He’d already been through enough poking analyzing, you hoped they wouldn’t do that or at least Tony would do it in the confines of his labs.

“I know he isn’t. But whatever Hydra did to him is still in there Steve! You can’t deny that” Nat’s voice was even.

And suddenly you could here all the fight draining out of him. “I know.”

You thought that was the perfect time to intervene. As much as the public eye sees him an unbeatable super hero, there were times where the past caught up him, dragging him down as if a bunch of stones were attached to your ankles, sinking to the bottom of the ocean. He needed someone to pull him back up, stop him from drowning and let some fresh air into his lungs.

You knock on the door quietly, announcing your presence. Natasha’s bright hair whips around and she smiles upon seeing you. You two had grown close over the last few months spending a lot of your time training and discovering new fighting styles and techniques. You bonded easily, her being the only other woman in the compound, other than you and Wanda who tended to hang more around her brother than anyone else.

“You did good out there.” She says, give you a short hug. She says goodbye to Steve and makes a hasty exit.

“Hey, Stevie.” Steve hated it when other people called him that particular nickname, but coming from you, he didn’t mind all that much, it was almost motherly.

He sighs heavily and hangs his head low. “I don’t know what to do, (Y/n).” He says quietly. You grab his arm gently to get him to look at you.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Just focus on getting cleaned up for now. I’ll do the same and I’ll be back. We’ll talk about it then.” You send him a reassuring smile.

All he does is breathe in deeply through his nose and whisper a thank you with a sad smile.

You walk into your bedroom shrugging of all the clothes and head straight into your shower, washing away the day’s grime and dirt. Your mind wanders back to the Soldier, unconsciously or consciously. He just seemed so mysterious, as cliche as it sounded.

All you wanted to do is find out more.

You towel and change into comfortable clothing before slipping into your kitchen to grab some leftovers for Steve. You’ve learned over time that he eats the daily intake of an elephant and it’s family so you always made double the recipe of whatever you were making that day.

“I’m back.” You say entering his apartment. He’s already seated on the couch with a bunch of pillows and blankets.

He’s in a soft sweatshirt and pants now and he’s looking a little better now, less pale and definitely less haunted.

You sit down and cross your legs under you, carefully balancing the casserole between you and handing him a fork.

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Steve liked to keep things bundled up inside for as long as possible, thinking that he could deal with it himself, not wanting to burden anyone else. You normally had to gently coax him into talking, a trick you learned from Sam at the VA meetings, but also from being such close friends with Steve.

Today was different,  it was as plain as day. With Bucky’s return he seemed so much lighter, as if a heavy weight on his shoulders had been taken off, but at the same time, there was something else that had formed, and you weren’t sure what it was.

“They put him in a cell (y/n).” He drops his face into his hands. The bite of food you were going to take stopping mid-air. What?

“What do you mean they put him in a cell?” You repeat, dumbly.

“They- They need to contain him to remove whatever Hydra did, and they put him in a cell.” He straightens his back and slouches back down.

You understood why they would do that. The things they did were despicable and Bucky’s state of mind was very fragile. But, they needed to fix him, not contain him.

“Do you know where?” You asked him gently, maybe, you’d pay him a visit.

“Ya, it’s in the basement, Level 2. (Y/n), you don’t understand. The look in his eyes…” He trails off, recalling the memory. “They aren’t letting me see him. Not yet, anyways.”

That pisses you off. How the hell are you supposed to keep Steve Rogers from Bucky Barnes?

“Are you serious? I’m going to have a talk with Tony.” You declare. “Who’s working on him?”

“Some of the scientists from the compound.” He answers, eating another bite.

You hum as an answer. Deciding it was time to forget all the emotional trauma, you out on a movie that was on Steve’s to watch list.

You both snuggle and fall asleep watching The Way of The Dragon, and the only thing you could remember is Steve making an off-hand comment :” You kind of fight like him.”

——–

You woke up the next day on Steve’s couch alone. He probably went out for a run at some ungodly hour.

You looked at the clock and saw that it was already ten thirty. Remembering the conversation you had with Steve last night, you get dressed in a hurry and go to find Tony.

As usual he’s in his lab, tinkering away, even after a mission.

“Heyyyy, sweetums, how’s it going?”  He asks when you enter in the room.

“Good. Good.” He looks at you weirdly from his position behind the table. He’s obviously perplexed by your simple answer and he knows you either need something from him, or dying to ask a question. He stares at you for a few more seconds before you cave in. “I need to ask you a question.” Bingo.

“And what might that question be.” He rolls his workbench towards you.

“Who’s working on Bucky?” You ask cautiously, Bucky was a sensitive subject to Tony and you could see him tense.

“The scientist’s working in the compound. Why?” He replies suspiciously.

“It can’t be them.”

“Why not? They’re the best in the industry and they’re the most qualified –”

“That’s not the problem” You roll your eyes. You knew that they were the best at what they did and that they were fully equipped. But, that didn’t matter.

“Then what is?”

“He- he doesn’t know them.” With all the shit he’s been through, you wouldn’t imagine him wanting to be tested on again by some strangers.

“So, (Y/n) all he needs is to-”

“Tony, don’t you think he’s been through enough.” You snapped, you were surprised by our own little outburst, but you kept going. “He’s been stuck being tested on and tortured by shitty people he doesn’t know for the past seventy years,” you soften your voice a little,” don’t you think he deserves a little familiarity?”

There’s a pregnant pause. Tony had agreed to let him stay here, doesn’t mean he had to like it.

“He killed my parents! Now, you want me to help him?” He half shouts. He hated fighting with you.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do because it may have been his hands and his body doing it, but his mind and his heart wasn’t in it. That man spends his days regretting what he’s done and remembering what they made him do.” Your tirade ends with both of you breathing hard, fists clenched.

“Why do you care so much? You’ve only met him once.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance, Tony. Everyone, including him.” You end softly. It’s the truth and you were hoping Tony would see it too.

“Ok. Ok, fine. But, I’m not making any promises.” He rubs a hand over his face. “And Banner’s in on it too.” You smile wide and jump up and down on the spot in triumph.

You run up and give him a big hug and thank him again.

You couldn’t wait to tell Steve.

And Bucky.


tag list;

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Watch it Burn Down

A Varchie fic

Chapter One: Here

Chapter Two:


Straight to answer phone: “Hey, you’ve got Veronica, leave me a message…”

“Fuck!” I say out loud, I feel like launching the phone into the wall but I can’t, if anything, he’d message me and tell me he’s still alive. But he hasn’t. Not yet.

I scroll through my phone, all the way to C and pick Cheryl’s number. It rings, Jug would tell me that this is a good omen but I don’t see how it is when she’s not answering.

No answer. “Hey, Bitches! Leave me a message, or you know, don’t, I don’t have time to listen to them anyways…”

“Cheryl,” I say into the dead end phone. “If you’ve got Jug held hostage, let him know I’m at home waiting for him please.” I pause. “Ah, it’s Archie. Andrew.” shit. “Andrews. Archie Andrews. Bye.”

Fuck, I’m a dork.

I sit down on the bed and look at the time. It’s just after 1 P.M. Nah I’m not worried about an adult man who’s not come home last night.

I’m fucking sick over it.

I keep looking at my watch like something might change. I’m gonna beat that idiot until the cows come home once he does. He could be anywhere here. He could be anywhere anywhere. He would have told me if he was going to Toledo, right? Jughead wouldn’t have gone to Toledo though, he would have dragged my ass with him. I wouldn’t have wanted to but I would have gone anyways, there’s a lot of crap that kid talks me into. Where the hell was he?

I’d texted him so many times, I don’t even remember what the first text was but I’m shit scared right now and dad’s out of town. I could go next door and try and talk Alice into helping me find him but I’d rather not have her ask me questions about my failure of a scholarship.

Just thinking about it makes my knee ache. Useless fucking knee.

I snap back to reality when I think about ringing Veronica again. I know why she’s not answering, it’s because I’m the one calling. But maybe she’s seen Juggie, maybe he was at Misty Blacks last night? Who knows, I won’t unless I try calling her again. Cheryl probably worked the late shift, that’s why she’s not answering. I know too much about Cheryl and not enough about Ronnie, it’s annoying but sometimes asking Cheryl is the only way I find out anything about Ronnie. Jug tells me it’s a bit obsessive, but he’s the one who always tells me I have an obsessive nature.

Juggie.

I call Ronnie’s number. I’m surprised it’s ringing, so she hasn’t changed her number after all. But it cuts to answer phone. Shit. “Hey, Ronnie, it’s me,” I say, “Archie. Give me a call, it’s pretty urgent.”

I hang up.

I don’t even remember the last time I had to tell Ronnie it was me on the phone. I don’t really remember the last time I rang her for anything specific. One of the things I loved was that her and I were kind of just… I don’t even know, we just fit. I remember when I first saw her walking into Pop’s. I was stunned. Jug described it as enamoured. I love it when he tells me little bits and pieces like this because it gives me a whole new outlook on things, I was enamoured. I still am.

We always just fit; I could give Ronnie just a look and she knew exactly what I was thinking, I could start a sentence and she’d already finished it in her mind. We just were. We had just been for three years, I think the worst part for everyone else is that they all think she put her life on hold to move with me interstate so I could pursue my scholarship. The one that failed. Just like my relationship.

Dad always has this sort of knowing look on his face. Him and mom were High School Sweethearts and look how that played out. Sure, Ronnie and I met at High School but we loved each other; she loved me so much she followed me. And then she came all the way home. And so did I.

We used to talk about so much shit, it wasn’t funny. And that’s exactly what it was, most of it was shit. Most of it was shit at three in the morning or three in the afternoon while we were still in bed. She’d wake up and ask me so many questions and I would come up with weird theories and we’d laugh. We laughed a lot.

We used to laugh a lot.

But now she doesn’t even answer my phone calls and the panic is building up in me because not only can I not get the one person I love to answer my calls, I have no idea where my best friend is and I haven’t seen him in almost two days.

My phone rings.

I fall off the bed onto my knees when I realise that somehow my phone made it’s way to the ground. I scramble to pick it up, swiping it open, I don’t even look at the name. I hope it’s Jug. “Jug?” I say, gasping for breath.

“What’s so urgent?”

I can tell she’s pissed, but she’s also a little worried because her words are quick out of her mouth. I can hear her so clearly even though she’s a little muffled over the phone. Her words are bitter but I take a sigh of relief just hearing her. “Have you seen Jug?” I ask.

She pauses, I think she might be a little taken aback. “No?”

No?”

“No.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and try and think of what Jug said before he left yesterday morning. “Have you seen him at all in the last twenty hour hours?”

“No?”

“Fuck!” I groan. “Ah, ok, thanks for calling me back…”

There’s more silence over the phone but I kind of like just knowing she’s on the other end. It’s like she’s here with me. I miss it. “Is everything ok, Archie?”

Archie. Not Arch, not Archiekins. Just plain Archie. “Yeah, everything’s cool,” I lie.

“Where’s Jughead then?”

I wonder if I should lie. Because I know that if Jug finds out I’ve called half of Riverdale, he’s gonna be pissed. But I can’t lie, not again. “I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “That’s why I’m calling you, I haven’t seen him since he went to work yesterday morning to the station. I heard him on the Air but today’s his day off so I don’t know where he is…”

She sighs out loud and it makes the phone crackle. “Why are you worried?”

“Because he lives here and he hasn’t been home.”

“He’s a big boy.”

“I’m worried because he’s not ok, Veronica, god!”

She waits for me to cool down but I don’t think I’m cooling down, I just feel a little more sick. “Archie…”

“Ronnie,” I say sternly. “Jughead’s not coping. With Betts gone.”

“It’s been a year since she’s left, he could have gone to College with her, he could have still been with her if he had just sucked up his pride -”

“Well he didn’t and we’re all he has.”

“He lives with your dad, Archie. He’s never even left Riverdale, does that seem normal to you?”

“Jughead’s not normal, Veronica, you know that -”

“I feel like you’re getting a little twitchy so let’s leave it.”

I snigger and roll my eyes to myself, this is going nowhere. “Leave it,” I mumble. “Easy for you to say, you always do.”

I sound like Jug just spoke from inside my body and I scramble to get rid of him from my mind. I spend too much time with him, I swear.

“Not easy for me to say, actually. Considering the circumstances.”

I slap my hand to my face. “I’m sorry.”

She ignores me. “Come and get me, we’ll go looking for him…”

“Where?”

“Have you tried Pops?”

I ran there this morning, good excuse for exercise but also not good for my knee. “I went there, he wasn’t there then though…”

“His dad’s trailer?”

I shake my head, yeah, great way to make me feel better. “I didn’t even think about that.”

“Because you don’t think.”

Another stab at me, a low blow. “Ok, I’ll come and get you.”


She looks around my truck as though this was her first time in it. We were sixteen when I had sex with her in the back tray. I made it as romantic as possible, Betty leant me fairy lights and I strung them up. Veronica glimmered in the moonlight that night.

She tucks her hands under her thighs and keeps herself from touching anything. I wonder if she thinks she might pick up some sort of disease while she’s sitting in here, because the way she’s glaring at everything makes me feel like she hates it in here.

“Why is he struggling all of a sudden?” she asks me.

“He’s not struggling all of a sudden,” I say through my teeth. “He’s been struggling for a while…”

“Why?”

I look over to her but she keeps looking straight ahead, out the window. “Because I told him Betty has a new boyfriend.”

“Right,” she replies.

“Don’t you talk to him about Betty when you see him?”

I hadn’t really spoken about Jug and Ronnie’s new friendship before, but right now, I felt like I wanted to know all about it. I wonder if she tells Jughead everything about me, all about the life that we had made interstate. If she did, he didn’t let on.

“We don’t really talk about it.”

“Then why do you guys hang out so much?”

She smiles weakly and pulls down the sunshade before pushing her glasses further up her nose. They were her favourite pair, at our old place, she had a drawer filled to the top with just sunglasses, usually, she wouldn’t even wear the same pair two days in a row. “Because he missed you and I missed Betty. But now he has you back, but I don’t have Betty.”

“He should have just gone with her, you’re right.”

Ronnie sniggers and shifts a little in her chair. “It doesn’t matter how much you want to be with someone or how much it hurts. When you’re in love, you got to do the right thing. And he thinks that’s the right thing, letting her go and live her life.”

“You seem to know a lot about it.”

“It’s because I know what the right thing is, even if it hurts me.”

She’s so straight faced and her lips don’t even twitch even a little when she speaks. She’s deadpan. But she’s making my heart beat faster and it’s painful being so close to her even though I can’t touch her. I can smell her, I can feel her in my space but that’s it. Usually, I would be smiling at her, brushing hair out of her eyes, leaning over and kissing her. But not now. Not today.

“It hurts me too,” I mumble.

“It hurt me even more.”

“I know,” is all I can say.

We keep driving and I can see her shoulders dropping a little. It means she’s relaxing, I know, I used to see this happen every day when she’d come home from her old job at the coffee shop. She’d bring home so many free coffees that I’d drink like four in a row and I would joke and say I didn’t know what to do with all the extra energy and she’d joke back and tell me exactly what to do with all the extra energy.

I swallow even though my mouth is dry.

We pull up into the trailer park, I can see Juggie’s car by his dad’s trailer and I take a deep sigh of relief. “I thought he might’ve been with Cheryl,” I tell Ronnie. “But I’m glad he’s not, she’s all sorts of bad for him.”

“Maybe he could have been all sorts of good for her though? The best kind of good.”

“She doesn’t do good, well,” I laugh.

She light-laughs back. “Not even the good people can consistently be good. That would be too easy, complications are a necessary evil in life.”

I wish she would say that what I did was just a complication in life, but I think it’s way more than that.

I fucked life up.

I turn off the ignition and wait for Ronnie to get out of the truck before sighing in relief and closing my eyes. I don’t think I even breathed properly during that entire ride here and I just need one, good breath.

That’s until she starts banging on my window. “You coming in?” she asks me, throwing her thumb over her shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” I say opening the door.

I walk ahead of her towards Jug’s dad’s door and I reach up to knock but before I do, my hand is pulled back and she’s holding it. I look back at her and turn around to face her, my fingers cling on a little tighter to hers but she let’s go. “I just want to say that this is really nice.”

“What?” I ask, a little lost for words. “Driving to the trailer park?”

“No,” she says, rolling her eyes. “What you’re doing for Jug.”

I just shrug and knock on the door. “I know if this was me, he’d come looking for me too.”

The door isn’t answered but I’ve been here a million times and I find the stashed keys. I open the door and sure enough, I can tell he’s here somewhere. Ronnie steps through and eyes Jug’s car keys on the table. “Why does he come here when it’s like no one lives here?”

“His dad’s around,” I explain. “But maybe he’s in Toledo visiting JB?”

“Maybe,” she answers.

“JUG!” I call out. “Tell me you’re in here so I can beat your ass!”

Like he’s rising from the ashes, he springs up off the sofa, his hat falling off and his blanket laying on the ground. “Shit!” he shouts. “You freaked me out, dude!”

I inhale deeply and throw a cushion at his head, he manages to dodge it but he doesn’t dodge the second one but I rush over to the sofa and grab his head, shaking it a bit. “Where the fuck have you been?!” I almost shout. “I was freaking out!”

“I’ve been here,” he replies, pushing my hands away.

“Why?” Ronnie chimes in, “Archie’s been worried sick – he thought you might’ve been dead!”

“I have been a little dead,” he says, straightening his beanie. “I might as well have been.”

“Don’t talk like that Jug,” I say, whining a little. “It’s fucking morbid.”

He laughs a little and stands up, stretching out. “I thought you might like having the room to yourself, watch a little TV, hit the porn collection.”

I laugh too and shake my head, pulling his shoulders under my arms. “Come on bro, let’s go home.”

“I wanna ciggie first,” he says. “Need to have a little relax.”

We follow Juggie outside as he sits on the porch steps. I take a seat on one side of him and Ronnie, the other. She doesn’t hesitate in asking the first question. “Why didn’t you go home, Jughead? A little brooding of you, don’t you think?”

Jug smiles to himself as he lights his cigarette. “Just had a moment. Sometimes I don’t like being alone, sometimes I do. Sometimes I’m a burden on the Great Andrews Clan so I give them a break,” he says giving me a wink.

I shake my head and slap his thigh. “You’re never a burden on me. Only when you don’t tell me where the hell you are!”

“Your wife was worried sick!” Ronnie says laughing, she looks over at me and gives me a small smile. “We both were in the end.”

Jughead inhales loudly and nods. “I know, I should have told you… I just…” he doesn’t finish his sentence.

I hated seeing Jug like this. I know that with all his alone time last night, he would have been thinking too much about Betts. Sometimes it could be late at night and he’ll start telling me all the things they used to do when they were together. Sometimes it makes me feel like I didn’t know Betty at all but I guess he just knew her on another level. “Don’t worry bro,” I try. “We’re here for you.”

“I think the alone time does me good.”

“I don’t think it does, Jug,” I tell him honestly. “When you think too much, you know you get a little funny…”

He nods. He knows I’m right. “I don’t like to be alone, but I don’t like doing this to you.”

“You’re not doing anything to us, Jughead,” Ronnie says matter-of-factly. “What are friends for if not at least for company?”

Jughead takes a drag of his cigarette and offers it to Ronnie, she declines but I can tell she’s interested. Ronnie’s the kind of girl who indulges after a couple of glasses of wine or when she’s stressed. I watched her smoke a packet, that was only five months ago. I couldn’t even speak out against it. I was the one who drove her to it, I would have let her indulge in every bad habit of hers if it meant she’d come back…

“Is it so easy to just move on?” he asks. He gives me a sardonic look. “Probably the wrong crowd to ask huh?” Ronnie and I just look at each other. “She moved on, it was exactly what I wanted. I wanted her to taste the world, get lost in all this knowledge the earth is supposed to hold. I wanted her to do it, become more than me. And now she’s doing it and I feel like I’m going nowhere….”

Yeah, bro. I know what you mean.


The good and bad thing about Jug is that he’s amazing at pretending like he’s all good. We picked him up, he had a few more cigarettes and then he bounced right back. Ronnie said that she didn’t have anything to do today she wanted in on the pizza too. Juggie didn’t complain and I felt my heart rise up a bit higher in my chest because finally, she’s not sickened by the sight of me.

She doesn’t really talk to me, but sometimes she’ll at least look at me or laugh at some of the things I’ve said. She keeps her gaze mostly on Jug and it feels like she’s waiting for him to do something or say something. Something that’s worth watching or listening to.

Jug and Ronnie dig into the pizza we bought. They both go crazy but I just pick at Jug’s half eaten crusts and down a whole bottle of pepsi. I don’t usually drink that much sugar and now I feel like I’m on a sugar high.

We keep things pretty even at the table. We don’t talk about much and Ronnie keeps flicking me glances every time she thinks Jug’s getting a little down. We go back to my room. It feels like we’re sixteen all over again with my best mate and my girlfriend in my room.

But she’s not my girlfriend, is she? Not really. Not for a while now. But she falls on the bed, kicking of her Nikes onto the ground and laying back on my pillow like it’s completely normal. Jug does the same. It doesn’t feel normal to me at all.

He flicks on his TV, he chucks on a headset and I see him glance over to the window. One day he’ll learn that it doesn’t matter how many times a day he looks over to Betty’s window, she won’t appear. One day he will learn, but I’m not going to be the one to teach him. Not today.

Ronnie picks up a photo album that’s been sitting on my bedside table for over a year, one that Betts gave me before she left. “I love this album,” she says. “it’s super cute and has Betty’s name all over it. She’s going to be one of those old women who do scrapbooking, I can see it.”

None of us press on about Betty but Ronnie looks through the album, flicking page to page. “Look at you, Juggie, you were brooding even when you were a little baby!” she says, pointing at a pic of us when we were five.

I walk over and flick to the next page before she does and I point at a photo, Betts, Jug and I, all arm in arm and eight years old. “This was when Juggie used to duct tape his shoes together and look at Betts, she’s got pigtails!”

“Yeah, but look at how red your hair was, even more so when you were a kid. It’s cute.”

She used to say that after we got married, we’d have kids. She used to pick out names she liked as well, Chanel was one of them which she thought was tacky but also a little funny and beautiful for a girl so I liked whatever she liked. Her mom used to get mad about it because we’re only nineteen and we shouldn’t be thinking about things like that but I didn’t care. I felt like I was happy enough to talk about forever.

“Cute?” Jug laughs. “More like embarrassing.”

“You don’t like redheads?” Ronnie teases.

“More of a blonde guy, myself,” he says with a wink. We’re all silent again.

She keeps flicking through photos, one of Jug and I when we were twelve at the skate park, one of us at thirteen with Betty in between us for the Junior School disco. Fifteen year old Betts and I, she’s up in my arms with her arms wrapped around my neck, Ronnie and me with my dad in hospital, us two sitting on Jug’s car, us two sitting on the roof of my car. So many photos.

There’s one of us two, standing outside the Riverdale sign the day we left town to move interstate, she’s looking up at me and she’s wrapped up in my old Letterman. She loves me. I love her. It’s in this photo, I have proof. She shuts the album quickly. “I better go,” she says. She rolls off the bed and rubs Juggie’s head.

“You going already?” he asks.

“I’ve been here for ages, it’s Friday which means it’s maintenance night…”

“She’ll need a few solid hours,” I joke.

“What’s maintenance night?” Jug asks.

I go to answer but Ronnie reaches for the door. “See you guys later.”

“How are you getting home?” I ask her.

“Taxi?” she says, looking at me, shrugging. “How else?”

“I’ll take you!” I say a little too quickly. “Don’t waste your money.”

“It’s ok, I’m a big girl.”

“Ronnie,” I beg, I didn’t have it in me to fight. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

“Ever the gentleman, Archiekins.”

Just listening to that felt like progress.


She invites me in to her mom’s apartment. It hasn’t changed since the last time I was here. Which wasn’t long ago, really. We spent last Christmas here and that was when I bought her the necklace she’s wearing now. It cost me so much money, I think I’m still paying mom back the loan she gave me to pay for it but I know my girl likes the finer things and it was the price I had to pay. She likes the finer things but Jesus, she can be down to earth when she wants to be. Where it counts. Dad says maybe I take things for granted sometimes. It was something I learnt from my dad when I was only sixteen. I almost lost him and it was then where I realised how much he sacrificed not only for me, but for Jug as well. He homed him when he had nowhere to go, dad looked after me when he didn’t have much to give. I overlook things like that all the time, I don’t do it on purpose. It just happens. Jug says it’s just a part of me. It’s the bad part of me. Just like I took Ronnie for granted.

I feel a little sick when I think about all the guilt that’s in me. I remember the look on her face when she found out the truth. I can’t even put it into words, the look on her face. Or the amount of tears that she cried, I don’t know what stung the most?

The tears?

Or the look of hatred on her face?

I shake the thoughts out of my mind as she comes back into her loungeroom with a glass of orange juice in her hand. “I know you don’t like sweet drinks this late at night but I figured it’s better than a shake from Pop’s so…”

I take the juice from her and take a sip, I smile at her because I’m grateful she’s even let me in. “Thanks, Ronnie.”

“It’s ok.”

We both just sit there and I can sort of feel her thigh touching mine. My leg cramps up a little bit because I don’t let it fall on to her any more than it is. Trying to hold my leg up and sit up straight on the sofa is a difficult task when I’m so used to throwing myself by her and resting my legs in her lap. But we sit here anyways and sip on the juice she gave me.

“Your mom hasn’t changed the house much,” I laugh.

“Not since the last time you came? A few months ago.”

I don’t tell her it’s been seven months. “Yeah, I guess so.”

She sighs and leans her head back on the sofa. “I love being here,” she tells me. “it’s so relaxing being here at mom’s. I guess I finally enjoy being treated like a little girl, I used to hate it.”

I laugh and nod, drumming my fingers against my glass. “Yeah, you did. Remember when you always used to rebel against your mom? You were so hot headed.”

She laughs too. “I used to hate her being so controlling but now I understand her a bit better, I think,” she says, finally looking at me. She looks down at my glass before looking me in the eye. “I think maybe she just didn’t want me to get hurt.”

I feel a lump in my throat and this time, I look down at my glass of juice. “I don’t blame her,” I mutter against the glass.

“Hey,” she starts quietly. “I just want to tell you that what you do for Jughead, it’s really nice.”

“I would do anything for him. I really would. Jug’s been my best mate since we were kids, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”

She puts her glass down on the coffee table and puts her arm around my shoulder. “It just reminded me so much of all the good in you. Reminded me of why I loved you.”

She’s so close, I can feel her breath on my lips, already I can taste her on my tongue and I can feel her chest pressed against my arm. I want to rewind time, go back all those months and that day, I want to relive that day. I want to have never gone out. I don’t want to screw up, I want to go back so it can just be me and Ronnie laying in our old unit, just us two. I want to go back to the time where I loved her so much, it made me happy. Not ruin me.

I want to be able to taste her whenever I want, to touch her whenever I want. I want to be able to laugh with her, joke with her. Talk all serious future plans with her. I want to be with her again. But I can’t and the guilt eats me alive. Jughead always said I was too honest for my own good but the one time I wasn’t, it ruined everything.

She’s so close to me and I’m looking at her. I’m really, really looking at her. Her eyes are so hurt, her lip is stuck between her teeth and she’s sort of shivering, I don’t think it’s from the cold. I think it’s from me.

I can see her edging closer, she licks her lips and she’s so close, I hear her do it. But I lick mine too.

Her lips press against mine, and I haven’t felt so fucking good.

Her hands are creeping up my neck, her hands are still so smooth and I feel her nails scraping on my skin, her tongue edges in slowly, overlapping with mine and she sighs into my mouth. My hands move slowly up her skirt, her thighs are cold but my hands are warm and I feel goosebumps under my finger tips. I groan into her, feeling more and more of her before it all ends and she quickly moves off me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Sorry!” I say quickly, trying to flatten my hair. “Sorry, Ronnie, I’m sorry!”

My heart won’t stay still so I bang my hand to my chest, looking at her with wide eyes because fuck, I don’t want to piss her off, not again. This was the closest I had been to her in months and I can’t let it end like this because we got a little lost in the moment.

She smacks her lips together and she frowns at me, eyes begging for something. “Arch…”

“Ronnie,” I say again, shoving my keys in my pocket that were sitting on the couch. “I’m sorry, but maybe this is the universes way of saying something…”

“Yeah,” she sniggers. “It’s the universes way of telling me I have no self control and I’m still not ready.”

“For what?” I ask, rubbing the back of my neck.

“For letting you back in my life.”


Do love it? Hate it? want more? Guys?

anonymous asked:

What's something that annoys you most in the KHR-fandom?

Okay, I’m going to have to make a list. Only 10 because if I do more, I’m going to be too angry.

I could easily do more. Disagree if you want to but yeah, this stuff annoys me. Some more than others.

1. General ignorance.

Yes, the Vongola is the oldest and most powerful mafia famiglia in the KHR-verse.

There’s no way it is around 400 years old. Look at how Giotto dresses, the fact that G had a pistol and so on. If you’re going to do the 400-year thing, have a reason for it beyond ‘I want to’ as based on when the mafia first started.

I think the main issue here is that people think established family = stays until everyone is killed/famiglia is destroy. When really they should be thinking more GoT type thoughts. But worse as GoT has more honor, traditionally.

Mafia-life is violent, there’s crime, honor and so on all tied up in the murder business. Succession should be considered a time of crises.

Lots of famiglias don’t survive their first succession, especially if it’s not blood-bound. Because then you get different factions supporting different people and someone is going to get betrayed. And then people and the famiglia die.

It can still happen in famiglias that have bloodline bound succession, but at least no outsider can go and take it over.

Which means that most mafia famiglias tend to die, dissolve or are taken over in the first three generations; potentially through marriage and potentially through violence. That is if in-fighting doesn’t get them first.

That’s human nature, sadly.

2. Geographical ignorance

This is not my best subject, but a flight from Italy to Japan doesn’t take 30 hours. You could have a trip take that long, switching planes and all that but you’ve got layover. Not a flight. Please state the difference.

That said people tend to forget that both Italy and Japan are mountainous countries. Which means winding mountain roads at best and goat-forsaken mountain trails at worst. Namimori’s at least mostly urban/suburban but it’s got rural mountains and a beach nearby. The Iron Fort/the Varia’s Castle are clearly somewhere rural.

Getting from place to place takes time. Not just from Italy to Japan but the Iron Fort to the airport to Japan to Namimori.

3. Character bashing

It happens in every fandom, but some are more prone to being bashed than others.

There is however a difference in bashing and pointing out a character’s flaws.

Everyone is flawed, but some flaws are worse than others.

Even if they’re not really flaws so much as their personality. The difference in bashing is in the evidence and how it is presented.

Is it from a biased character with minimal knowledge/experience? Probably bashing.

Is it from a professional assessment? Probably not bashing and something to worry about.

Is it from a character with moderate knowledge? It’s an educated opinion and everyone character has their own opinions.

I don’t as an author bash characters. It’s bad writing. Allowing my characters to have opinions however is good writing, no matter how or what those opinions are.

4. Giotto the saint, the dork, the Vigilante aka fandom has it all wrong

Giotto was born to well-off folks. He’s the one that went and gave money to that one guy, not Cozart. Which as a teenager and during the time period would have been really precious and a huge deal if there wasn’t more of it available to him.

So Giotto, he’s not nobility but he’s still a lot more rich than the average peasant of the time. He somehow feels enough responsibility that when his town is under threat by bandits and so on that he and his friends form the Vongola.

Also given the time period, the ruling body and so on… I want to know when Vigilante became synonymous with hero without involving comic book super heroes. Because that’s a delusion and a misunderstanding of the word. A vigilante is not a hero. A hero upholds the law; a vigilante takes it in their own hands.

Most vigilantes of that time were more like a posse hunting down criminals. Criminals by their definition.

And Giotto led them.

Giotto is not a saint, is not a harmless dork. He’s a murderer.

Because most of the time, being a vigilante is illegal. Of the ‘being executed’ kind of illegal. Because a vigilante can’t just ask the police to put this person in jail. Vigilantes happen because authority fails to do what they’re supposed to. They’re pissed, want revenge justice, and decide that they don’t care what they’re doing is illegal.

The Vongola became his little murder club that no one wanted to rat on because of reasons. Mostly in that the government was ineffective, nothing was being done and they were fed up with it. And then Giotto solved their bandit problems with murder and then no one wanted to cross the guy who massacred problems.

Because that’s what they did when protecting his home town and other towns as the Vongola grew.

History became a lot warped and Giotto deciding to disarm/dismiss part of his forces, plus the fact that Giotto did something first and was always nice which colored his reputation as a good guy… still a mass murderer.

‘Saint’ and ‘Dork’ Giotto is not.

Giottto was a cocky little shit who grew into an unconsciously arrogant lord who later became horrified by his subjects doing what he saw as crimes, decided that disarming was a good idea, leading towards Elena dying, and all of it being all of Giotto’s fault because hindsight and guilt as Giotto had caused it all by founding the Vongola. Then he left Italy for Japan.

Which is not dealing with the problem he created, okay?

5. Ricardo is the source of all the Vongola’s Sins

Um, Ricardo is related to Giotto. So reasonably well off. Also presumably younger but may not have been.

He did probably spent some years with the Vongola back when it was a little murder club. However as Giotto wined, dined and wooed nobles and so on to sponsor his murder club someone was probably managing the murder club and you know, killing the trouble-makers as promised.

This was probably Ricardo as G and Deamon were with Giotto, hob-nobbing. Alaude might be there but he might not be. Knuckle swore not to kill. Asari might have been back in Japan. Lampo was a coward.

So Ricardo spent a lot more time among the bloodshed than Giotto did. More to the point, when Giotto went to Japan he left Ricardo with the Vongola problem and Daemon.

By this point the Vongola murder club has imitators and targets alike. All of which are fighting it out.

It’s a very bloody time period we really now nothing about. Other than Ricardo pissed off the Tomaso and there was a fight between them. And that Ricardo terrified the underworld so much that he was legend.

It’s just rather hard to find time for decadence and being hedonistic when slaughter enemies. Or greed that’s not loot.

Ricardo probably added to the Vongola’s sins, but mostly through murder, intimidation and a touch of blackmail.

Because the Vongola became financially independant somehow and somewhen and you need time to grow money enough for a criminal empire. So here is is probably the best starting point for that.

6. Tsuna the Saint

Tsuna’s not a saint. He’s a thoughtless, naive and whimpy teenager.

Being fanfiction, this isn’t always true. However somehow making him stronger and smart makes him a saint.

Tsuna’s got ethics and morals and is horrified by seeing the Vongola’s sins.

He still blasted Byakuran out of existence once. A version of him also brought back unprepared teenagers and children -including his then clueless love-interests- into a war-torn future they had no idea about.

Ethics are the limits of the loser.

And Tsuna’s being taught not to lose.

Which shows when Tsuna manages to break the Arcobaleno Curse.

7. Yuni the Saint

Yuni is raised outside the mafia. Probably by some sort of sworn servant of the Giglio Nero that’s not Gamma.

Yuni is also a child when she takes control of the Giglio Nero famiglia. One that sees the future.

It’s also said that the inherited power of seeing the future grows stronger with age. It is also said that bearing the Sky Pacifier weakens said power.

Yuni makes mistakes. She doesn’t say anything when Genkishi throws the fight. She doesn’t when Genkishi steals the Mare Rings to give to Byakuran. She doesn’t when she’s about to meet Byakuran.

Instead she gets drugged and manipulated like a puppet, effectively losing her famiglia in addition to her free-will to Byakuran. It’s implied that at least several thousand people in the mafia have been killed by Byakuran and his forces. It’s also stated that Byakuran will destroy the world, like he has multiple times in the future’s future.

Yuni says that while drugged she did something like Byakuran does when traveling to parallel worlds. She knows and has known for at least months what Byakuran’s done, is doing and plans to do.

She doesn’t start doing anything until about a month after future Tsuna has launched his time-travel scheme.

She knows how Byakuran’s powers work, knows about the Tri-ni-Sette and how to work it.

She doesn’t seal the Mare Ring despite having the ability to do so as Boss of the Arcobaleno. The revived Arcobaleno in the future do that.

It can be argued that Yuni was too young to know or too innocent but… you only have to look at her grandmother and what she did with the Arcobaleno to realize that Yuni is not a saint.

8. Spanner the Flameless

Spanner has a Flame. It’s not a fancy A-rank Flame like Shoichi, Gamma or presumably most everyone else shown using Flames except for the minions of Gamma and the minions of the Millefiore.

It’s mentioned he has a B-rank Flame.

No specific type is mentioned though. Spanner could have Earth Flames for all we know.

9. Nono Vongola

He’s a mafia don. Has been for most of his life when he wasn’t being groomed for it.

He’s sinned and smiled. He’s had children and raised them to be fine men. By mafia standards.

He’s also still on the proverbial throne despite being of retirement age and having grown successors. Who at the time were alive and capable if not great at what they’d do.

Nono also keeps secrets, even those that probably shouldn’t be secrets, like that entire mess with Xanxus.

Who despite being his adopted son that he loved, he left frozen for eight years.

Oh and who knows what happened to Xanxus’ mother. He could have had her shot or something.

10. Xanxus the rage monster

Xanxus is introduced as the villain. As the Varia Arc progresses, he’s shown as more of a monster, eventually resulting in the revelation of Nono in the Gola Mosca and using Tsuna’s attack on Nono as a method to force the Sky Battle to happen.

He’s bashed Squalo’s head into a table, thrown glass, threatened eradication of Tsuna’s family and all he cares for. He laughs at Squalo’s ‘death’ and kept Mammon in a birdcage nearby after Mammon lost against Mukuro. He even injured one of the Cervello to the point that she switched out of judging!

All of that points to him being an evil, irredeemable person beyond the whole leading the best assassination squad in the business and launching the coup in the first palce. Still as Basil mentions, in terms of ability and leadership, none of Nono’s sons could compare which is why so many people were for Xanxus being Decimo.

Xanxus kills people. It’s his job and he’s very good at it.

He doesn’t kill Tsuna and his Guardians. He doesn’t leave the Ninth to die of dehydration/exhaustion when Nono had been in the Gola Mosca for over a week.

He still arranges for transportation to Japan for him and the Varia. He acquires Nono somehow. How Xanxus gets the Gola Mosca is explained in X-fiamma but it involves stealing the plans from military turncoats that were pissed that Ottabio who was Xanxus’ Cloud Officer and Nono’s plant in the Varia had double-crossed them. Xanxus promptly murders Ottabio. He arranges for a body double of the Ninth to be brought in, for the Ninth’s Guardians to be elsewhere. For the CEDEF to do things that culminate in Iemitsu getting shot,

I should point out that Squalo wins most injured in the Varia arc, followed by Lussuria who is going to be bedridden for some time, Lambo, Nono who’s in the same boat as Luss but with less bloodloss and more exhaustion, Bel with the leg in a cast, Basil who heals up in a few days, then it’s Gokudera who pretty much is all self-inflicted during training and then Iemitsu who got shot. After him is Ryohei’s broken arm and Yama getting a few cuts.

Xanxus does terrible things but he’s strategic about it and knows how to manipulate things to his advantage.

The lack of death is pretty much why I say that the Varia Arc while awesome is almost completely contrived and not what it appears. Again, I iterate Bel deciding not to kill Gokudera during the Sky Battle. Gokudera was still poisoned at the time and helpless. Very easy prey but Bel’s like no, I’m gonna get to Mammon and take the mist-girl hostage when I already have the Smoking Bomb here.

From Tsuna’s perspective the Varia are there for Xanxus and the Rings.

From a wider perspective, the Varia Arc doesn’t make a lot of sense as some details are… off. Like Bel not killing Gokudera when Bel purposely goes hunting hitmen for fun. 

Gokudera has plot-armor.

But Darling Can’t You See I’m Laughing? by @aekyon

Xanxus/Reader

(Hey it’s me again!

I wanted to try something different and here’s the result. I like Tsuna and all but the others characters deserve love too! Today’s treat lover is Xanxus! It’s two pages longer than Tsuna wow.

This time the reader is kind of… peculiar. Don’t be fooled by her nonchalance, she’s a weird psychotic. Also I can see the Varia being huge dorks around each other but when it’s time to work, save your jokes for later.

Idk if I should put warning in there since most scenarios are dark but just in case: strong language, sexual innuendo and violence which somewhat goes a little graphic at the end.

Yes the flying pony is Dino.

Enjoy :D)

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“Gosh your Boss is so hawt Little (Name) you’re oh so lucky to see such a handsome creature every day… Say  will you hate me if I slept with him~??”

You said nothing. The woman in front of you puffed her cheeks, arranging her hair and make-up before turning to you.

“How boring! You could at least pretend to be angry or shocked instead of remaining emotionless, you remind me of that mint-haired cutie behaving like that,” she grabbed your face, her perfectly manicured nails slowly digging into your skin, “then again that’s an assassin for you! So calm and collected! Do you ever feel anything?”

The brown-haired woman added no more and finally let you go. She offered a sympathetic smile, the kind reserved for small, pitiful animals.

“A n y w ay, that’s it for today. You may go now. My own bodyguards will handle the rest.”

“I teased you enough for today now get out.”

You nodded not bothering to wait for any further indication as you knew the only thing in her mind right now was Xanxus.

A sigh escaped your lips as you let yourself fall on the ground, your back pressed against the door.

“Why do I have to take care of such a brat.”

The woman’s name… What was it again? You sighed once again, vaguely remembering it ended with an a.

Anyway, that woman was the precious daughter of the only heir of a powerful and resourceful family.

That’s what they claimed at least. Reborn didn’t seem convinced but until their investigations proved anything, the Varia was to take care of the negotiations, something you found pretty weird since said Varia which you were part of was composed of assassins and hardly any diplomats.

Honestly though, none among you could handle negotiation.  Could you picture Squalo or Bel at the job? No way.

“It’s as if Reborn is dumping her on us so we can take care of this family as soon as they’re proved to be useless.”

You still had to wait for Sawada Tsunayoshi’s approval though.

Now, why were you the one in charge of this annoying princess?

Despite the doubts clouding on everyone’s minds, she still was a potential soon-to-be ally. Her safety was to be guaranteed especially since her family has been the target of countless rivals. She obviously had her own bodyguards but since you all had to treat her… decently, it was decided that a notorious assassin of the Vongola would take care of her.

This is where the fun began.

When she arrived, that woman had absolutely refused to be seen with both Levi and Lussuria, claiming they were creepy and gross.

You swore Lussuria cried and Levi plotted murder.

Xanxus didn’t even pop up as a potential candidate. He still had to go through her visits on a daily basis though.

Squalo couldn’t because of his numerous tasks but you were pretty sure he wouldn’t have taken care of her anyway.

Bel had mysteriously vanished that day and only came back three days later.

As for Fran, well…

That woman found him cute and pinched his cheeks.

Fran avoided her ever since.

“It’s been three days already give me a break.”

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One of the perks of the Varia headquarters? You had a huge, magnificent bathroom connected to your own huge, magnificent room.

When you stepped out of the shower with your (h/c) hair still wet and opened the door to your room, you weren’t surprised to see the squad had once again gathered.

You knew buying a sofa for your room was a good idea.

It was also a good thing you already changed in your nightgown.

“(Name)-senpai is completely wet~”

“Fran… stop it.”

The illusionist apologised in his usual monotonous tone. Bel who sat next to him catcalled but was soon reprimanded by Lussuria. Levi was once again completely absorbed by the content of your magazines, especially the parts about love.

It was as lively as always.

“Come here (Name) I’ll blow your hair dry,” Lussuria offered, hair dryer and comb already in hands.

“Ushishi I’ll let you blow something else Princess—“

“BEL YOU JUST DIDN’T!”

Cue Lussuria smacking Bel with your comb and the Prince seemingly fainting.

“… well thanks Luss,” you sat in front of him and shivered a bit as you felt the fresh air on the back of your neck.

“How is (Name)-senpai doing? Isn’t she mad at the woman for throwing herself at the Boss? Even though (Name)-senpai and Boss had a huge fight and Boss could cheat on (Name)-senpai at any time? Or maybe he already did. Ooops.“

Lussuria gasped, “Fran I told you not to mention that!”

“It’s fine Luss,” despite the statement you still pouted and pinched Fran’s cheeks, “I’m doing fine. Also, this is punishment for my little Fran who doesn’t like having his cheeks pinched~”

“I don’t mind if it’s (Name)-senpai~”

“Aw aren’t you two precious?,” Lussuria cooed, “It would look cuter if both of you actually smiled though.”

“We’re cute but (Name)-senpai is pretending she’s not worried so she’s cuter. Or dumber. Say, are you cute or dumb senpai?”

You pinched his cheeks harder.

“Alright, maybe I am a little worried. He could cheat on me at any given moment… but I feel like he won’t. Even though he as the worst temper ever, get mad whenever Decimo is close—“

“Or us, the flying pony, the bomber, the cow, Master, and—” Fran counted.

“… yeah he’s a little possessive isn’t he? Still, my point is—“

“VOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOII!!”

Fran hid behind Lussuria. Levi jumped. And Bel came back from the death.

At least that’s how it looked like.

Squalo looked beyond pissed. It’s been almost one hour since he sent someone to fetch you all but he couldn’t find any of you.

He should have known they would be in you room.

“You guys are ALL coming with me RIGHT NOW,” he screamed, leaving no room for argument. The swordsman then turned to you, “As for you, someone’s here to see you. DON’T MAKE THEM WAIT.”

“Wow must be someone important then,” you thanked Lussuria again for you hair and put on a cardigan, “Where are you all going? I feel like I’m always missing the fun…”

“Showing some hospitality to our guests.”

You looked up and your eyes instantly met the others’.

So this family was useless in the end.

The atmosphere quickly changed; if you and the others had been carelessly playing around minutes ago, right now, everyone was silently fighting over who will get the heir’s and his daughter’s heads.

Only you was pouting.

“It’s unfair… I’ve been taking care of that woman since the beginning, surely I ought to give her a proper goodbye too!”

“Ushishi~ (Nickname) is angry; her mist is showing~”

You blinked and looked at your hand. Indeed your ring was glowing.

“Well she was the original replacement,” Levi scoffed, ready to head out, “Rest reassured there will be nothing left. I’ll start with her guards.”

“It sounds booooring but I’ll do it instead of (Name)-senpaaai,” Fran added, soon followed by Bel.

“Maybe I’ll find some cuties to add to my collection~,” Lussuria sing-sang, “Should I keep that brat’s body somewhere for you should I get her first?”

You scoffed, “Nah it would be a bother. She would be a waste of space in your room. However,” a grin soon appeared on your face, “Could you get her nails?”

The Sun Guardian gasped, “So she really did SRATCH you cute little face, I thought it was the result of a mission.”

“They were annoying,” you pouted once again and surely, Lussuria squealed then gasped again.

 “Anything for my little (Name)!”

“VOI (Name) YOUR GUEST. GO NOW.”

“Yes yes…”

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“… how rare.”

The man in front of you smiled. His sweet brown eyes could have melted your heart hadn’t someone else already took care of it. He softly took your hand and placed a soft kissed on top of it.

You stared.

“Aaah why did you do that Decimo? Now your secret fans are going to kill me~”

“They couldn’t even if they tried”, Tsuna added, obviously amused, “I wouldn’t let you get hurt anyway my dear (Name).”

You hid your face behind your hands in false embarrassment which made Tsuna chuckle again.

“I wish you would take me seriously though,” he sighed, closing the distance between you two.

“Alright, back to business,” the girly tone you had used was replaced by your usual nonchalance, “As much as Decimo likes me, he didn’t come here just to see me in my nightgown right?”

“And what if I did?”

“That’s problematic Decimo,” you crossed your arms, “You see, my Boss is a rather possessive man.”

“As expected of Xanxus’ little shadow… or should I say fiancée?”

You blinked and actually blushed at the statement.

Tsuna was quite pleased to see your flushed face for a change. You weren’t as emotionless as Fran but you seemed to keep those adorable faces for Xanxus only.

That just couldn’t do with him.

“I’m used to your flame already, there’s no need hiding it, though for the sake of this mission maybe it was a good idea.”

A purple mist circled around your finger, slowly vanishing and allowing anyone to see your engagement ring. Ring which, contrary to many people’s belief, wasn’t thrown at you out of nowhere.

Xanxus had actually put in on your hand after making a mess of you.

“I wish I did this because it was necessary,” you sighed, “Actually I had a fight with him before we got this mission which is why I covered the ring. It’s a punishment.”

“I see… then maybe I should comfort you since you’re sad?”

You hadn’t replied that the both of you heard high-pitched screams and gunshots from the mansion.

“… That was my fiancé telling you to back off Decimo.”

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You figured Tsuna dropped by only to mess with Xanxus. And give Squalo more tasks regarding the remaining of the useless family.

You and the Decimo had a peculiar relationship, playing house when it obvious that each of you only felt platonic love for the other. Tsuna may have been a flirt, you knew he wouldn’t desperately run after your just for the sake of winning you over.

Especially if tensions within the family could arise because of that.

The hall you reached was already spotless. Judging by the sounds from earlier, you knew Xanxus was in the room at the end.

“They cleaned everything quickly.”

You softly knocked on the door and went inside right away. Had Xanxus not wanted anyone in, he would have shot. Or thrown something. Or both.

You were greeted by the smashed face of the brown-haired woman on the ground. Truth to be told, the only reason why you recognised her was because of her hair which was the only thing left intact did you not count the fact it was burnt.

Her face had been completely destroyed. There was nothing on this bloody smashed flesh that could have been linked to her.

As for the rest of her body, you could see the burnt didn’t only apply to her hair though her lower body was replaced by a pile of dust.

When you looked up, you saw your fiancé enjoying a glass of wine as usual. As he put down his glass, he throw a small glass-like box at you.

You could easily recognised those bloody painted nails.

“… is it your way of apologising?”

Xanxus merely grunted. He motioned for you to come over, which you happily did so and comfortably lay on his lap.

Completely mewling under your fiancé’s touch, you took a look at the nails once again.

“Did Luss tell you about the nails?”

“… trash touched what’s mine.”

You actually squealed.

“Oh by the way,” you looked up to him, your hands resting on his torso, “Thanks for earlier. Decimo was getting a little close.”

Xanxus’ grip on your waist became firmer, “Then fucking stay away from him.”

“I can’t just do that, he’s still the Decimo,” you pouted, taking off your cardigan, “But I can’t forgive him for messing with us either!”

You blinked, a grin soon stretching on your face.

Xanxus could recognise that look anytime.

You had an idea.

A brilliant one judging by your face.

“… wanna make a mess in his office next time?”

Xanxus threw you on the ground, your nightgown already torn.

“Haven’t we done that already?”

Twenty Facts about Blake Belladonna (Compiled by Yang Xiao Long) (Bumbleby)

Blake bites into ice cream instead of licking it. When I tell her she’ll get brain freeze that way, she says if that happens, she’ll just have an afterimage get the brain freeze for her. (I was gonna tell her that wasn’t how it works, but then I realized that I have no clue if that’s how her Semblance actually works or not … but either way, I guess this means my girlfriend is one cool cat, huh?)

If you ask Blake, she’ll say that she’s a bit of a morning person. If you ask Blake in the morning, she’ll say something like, “Urrgggrrrrraaaaghhhh.” (The trick is to have a cup of green tea for her in your hand before you ask!)

Blake likes doing poetry challenges. We come up with a title, she comes up with – usually -something pretty impressive. (I once asked her for a poem about “How to Kill Yang Xiao Long” and she just smirked and said “With kindness.” What a great gal.)

Blake is really into the idea of planting a private garden. She says she wants a row of flowers for every color in the rainbow. (And I think she might just be sunny enough to make it work.)

One of Blake’s favorite things to do is slow-dance to songs with a really fast beat. Something about finding peace in the middle of chaos, she says. (Me, I just like dancing with her, that’s all.)

There’s a cemetery past the edge of Beacon, the kind with too little space for all the graves. Whenever we pass by it, Blake insists on a moment of silence. (Sometimes I wonder about who died – and sometimes I wonder about who didn’t.)

Blake says that when she was little, a snowflake landed perfectly on the tip of her index finger when it was lightly snowing, and she memorized how it looked before it melted. She’s spent every winter since trying to catch a matching one. (Personally, I think she’s already the special snowflake she’s looking for.)

Blake uses her arm-ribbons as makeshift seat belts when she’s riding Bumblebee with me. “If I die, I want you to be holding on to me, not the other way around.” (And if I die, I wanna do it smiling, soooo maybe we can work something out?)

Blake is really good at jump rope. Her current record is, get this, 228 skips. (I don’t know about you, but that sounds to me like a target to aim for!)

Blake never folds her clothes, ever, and yet somehow still manages to keep them 100 percent wrinkle-free. I asked her how, and she said, “Ninja tricks.” (Had that smirk on her face, too, the one where she’s barely smiling at all …)

Give her a canvas, a brush, and some peace and quiet. and Blake will paint you some of the best pictures you’ve ever seen – but only the outlines; only black and white. She says she’ll fill in the colors when other people give them to her. (Yellow, Blake, you’ve already got some!)

When Blake blows the seeds off of dandelions, she lays down on the ground to do it instead of plucking them like everyone else. “It’s not necessary to kill it, so why should I?” (And now she’s got me doing the same thing – dandy, huh?)

Blake’s … sense of attention? … is kind of reversed. She’s never bumped into anybody while walking down a crowded hallway while she’s reading one of her books, but while walking and not reading … (The record currently stands at 12 different people, one corridor, and I’m taking bets on when she breaks it!)

Blake can pick up any wind instrument you might care to name and – without ever having touched it before – play it basically perfectly after a few minutes figuring out where the notes go. She can also pick up any wind instrument you might care to name and look really silly making “phhhhhbt” noises and turning bright red. (Like I’m not gonna give her a standing ovation either way.)

Whenever we go to the beach, Blake picks up as many seashells as she can and passes them out to people she knows, saying “this shell represents some of your best qualities.” And then, when people ask her what that’s supposed to mean, she always refuses to explain. (Uh, as a quick side note, if anyone could help me figure out exactly how a purple and white conch shell and I are supposed to be alike, that’d be awesome.)

For the first three months we knew her, whenever we sent Blake a text with an emoticon in it, she always acted incredibly confused about what the heck “those little symbols” were supposed to be. Then one day I actually asked if she was being serious, and she texted me back, and I quote, “Of course I’m always serious. ;3” (And let me tell you, I haven’t told a soul.)

When she listens to music, Blake moves her ears – the kitty ones – to the beat. You’d think she was doing it on accident, except she never does so when people who aren’t in on the fact can see her. (The worst part is? I’m pretty sure I do the same thing with my eyebrows.)

Blake buys scented candles – basically every kind you can imagine. But whether pumpkin spice, lavender, chocolate, or whatever the heck “Cashmere Forest” is, she never actually lights them up until she’s taken the time to whittle them into the most detailed little sculptures I’ve ever seen. (And here I am, with just enough artistic ability to trace my hand and turn it into a turkey …)

Blake keeps a book of compliments she thinks up about different people, but doesn’t usually tell anyone about any of them. She says that she likes to save them for when people really need them. (My personal favorite so far is “You have the kind of eyes diamonds would sell their souls to be more like.”)

And, to top everything off, Blake Belladonna is the most passionate, most beautiful, most gorgeous, most talented, patient, artistic, kind, extraordinary person on the face of Remnant. (She’s also – and don’t tell her I blew her cover - a huge dork.)

anonymous asked:

I'm going to give you a cute request so you don't have to deal with sadness while you're sick :* Overprotective sweet dorks (Gom, takao & kiyoshi-your bae-) freaking out over seeing their scared s/o (you can choose whatever scared them :o it can be a mix of serious & silly). Thank you senpai!

YES YES. THANK YOU FOR THINKING OF ME as I am currently wrapped like a burrito under my blankets. 


Aomine: You looked like you were about to cry - your face a sickly, pale white as you came out of the bathroom. “Babe, what’s wrong?” he asked, noticing how quickly your cheerful mood left you. You were borderline shaking, your hands were trembling by your side. He rushed up next to you to touch your shoulder delicately. “Babe?” he questioned again. “Dai, I’ve forgotten to take my pills,” you responded shakily. “What pills?” he asked nervously. Oh god. The last thing he had to know was that you were diagnosed with third-stage liver disease and you were going to die if you didn’t take your pills and… Your voice cut across his running imagination. “Birth control pills, oh my God Dai, and we just did it yesterday too. I’m going to be PREGNANT. IN COLLEGE. AN-” Now this time it was his chance to shut you up. “If you get pregnant, I’ll just take care of you, no big deal,” he said, rolling his eyes. He picked you up, bridal style, and headed back towards the comfortable couch. “Scared me shitless for a second there.” He paused, “Oh, and that weird tea you always drink? Your mom told me it helps with birth control.” 

Midorima: “Shin, I’m scared,” you whispered into his collar early that morning. It was the day of your law school exam, and this was the determining factor for your future. In the past week, you weren’t even able to swallow your food correctly, never mind study. You could only hope you were prepared enough. Midorima, however, didn’t help the situation by abruptly sitting up in bed, and throwing your head off his shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he said, swinging his legs off the mattress and walking his way to his office, where you heard a bunch of objects being clattered around the floor. He returned with an armful of dream catchers and a stuffed turkey, which you presumed to be your lucky item. “Just fall back asleep, ____. These will help with nightmares,” he commanded. Annoyed, you threw the pillow you were sleeping at his face. You couldn’t believe he didn’t remember. Because he wasn’t wearing glasses, he couldn’t dodge the white, fluffy piece of mass. “SHINTAROU, I HAVE A TEST IN THREE HOURS. I CAN’T SLEEP.” 

Murasakibara: Atsushi was prepared to dig into the souffle you had made for him, but his purple eyes instantly perked at your nervous expression. You seemed, quite frankly, scared. “____-chin, you alright?” he asked. You only gulped and nodded nervously. Just as he was about to slice his fork into its surface, you stopped him with an intake of breath. “____-chin, you didn’t poison me, did you?” You shook your head fervently. Atsushi immediately appeared concerned. “What’s wrong? Your face is wrinkly because your eyebrows are creased together.” You closed your eyes, and confessed, “I think I accidentally used expired cheese in your souffle.” His purple eyes widened. “I JUST REMEMBERED IN THE CAR. I’m so sorry Atsu-” The boy simply spooned himself a large chunk of souffle. “It tastes fine,” he acknowledged, munching pieces between his teeth. Two hours later, his stomach wasn’t fine. 

Kise: “Why do you look so nervous, ____-cchi?” your boyfriend asked your awkwardly shifting frame. You were about to leave his modeling shoot, but the group of growing teen girls outside were making your nervous. In fact, some comments you overheard were particularly mean and downright nasty, aimed at you because you were Kise’s girlfriend. The worst ones were about egging your car or leaving threatening packages at your house, though, but you didn’t want to worry your boyfriend with that. “Nothing, haha. I’m just…a bit cold that’s all,” you said, bouncing on your heels to hide your nervousness. “Cold? You want my jacket? I don’t want you getting sick…” He followed your eyes towards the doorway and noticed the growing crowd. Something flashed behind those topaz eyes. “I don’t want you coughing or anything either,” he continued, wrapping his jacket around your frame and pulling you outside the door, his arm around your shoulders. “Last time, you got something particularly nasty and it stayed with you so long that I couldn’t even kiss you for a week!” You tried to shush him, but you couldn’t. He kept up the tone while taking you to your car, parting the crowd of people. “I won’t let anything happen to you, so if you ever need anything, just call me okay?” You nodded, and handed him back his jacket. “Bye _____-chi~!” 

Akashi: He noticed you stiffen visibly when you entered the elevator. As more people began to file in, your legs began to buckle. Immediately, before you could stumble to regain your balance, he swung you up in a bridal position, almost taking out an old lady’s head with your heels. “Excuse me, please exit out of the elevator. A person is in need of medical assistance.” When only a few shuffled out, Akashi, annoyed, began to bellow out. “Please exit out of the elevator. If you do not do as I say, you will all be pressed charges for not evacuating during an emergency.” At that statement, people began to file out quickly back into the concert hall. As soon as the air cleared around you, he noticed you regaining consciousness. “It’s just fucking claustrophobia, Sei,” you mumbled, trying to pull yourself together. 

Kuroko: You tried not to scream at the gruesome display in front of your neighbor’s house. It was dark, the night before Halloween, and as much as you expected that bloody hand to extend from out of the ground…you still screamed. Then, you heard the drop of something liquid right behind you. Turning around, you saw Kuroko’s vanilla milkshake on the ground. Your boyfriend’s eyes were wide open, staring at the thing on your neighbor’s lawn. “Wh-what is that, ___-chan?” Before you could respond, he took your hand and pulled you away. “Come on, let’s go,” he mumbled, leaving his poor milkshake behind. 

Takao: “I can’t believe you forgot the way to our car,” you muttered to your boyfriend, as you both continued walking down a shady street in the downtown district. In reality, this was not a safe place to be, especially for two teenagers when it was near midnight. The possibility of getting mugged was unnervingly likely. “I’m sorry,” he said, gripping your sweaty hand tighter. “I’m really sorry. I’m an idiot,” he mumbled, pushing a hand through his dark hair. You could tell he was starting to walk faster, eyes averting the homeless people on the sides of the street. “This way,” he whispered, maneuvering around a bus stop where a drugged old man sat. “Kazu,” you whispered urgently. “Kazu!” He shut his eyes a second longer and reopened them. “If we get mugged and hurt, it’ll be my fault. I know,” he said again. “Kazu, I just remembered I dropped a pin at our parking spot on my phone.” You saw him audibly breathe a sigh of relief. “Well…lead the way mad’am.” 

Kiyoshi: As soon as he heard your high-pitched shriek,he immediately dropped the game controller and rushed into the bathroom. You were on the floor, hair a dripping wet mess. “____, are you hurt?” He picked you up off the floor and onto your bed. His concerned, brown eyes skimmed over your body for any signs of injury. A second later, it focused on the growing bruise on your right kneecap. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” he asked. You were visibly confused, blinking rapidly at his sudden statement. “Wait, what? Teppei?” Kiyoshi took this as a sign that you weren’t going to tell him what had led to your injury, so he just simply reached from under the bed, pulling out some medicinal oil and gauze. “You know, if you don’t bandage it and keep walking on an injured knee,” he continued, oblivious to your confused expression. “You’re going to get hurt even more.” “Teppei,” you managed to force out, after your brain fully registered what was happening. “Teppei, I screamed because there’s a spider in the bathroom, and if you don’t kill it…” Suddenly, his bright, brown eyes snapped towards you with understanding. “Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?” You rolled your eyes. Damn it, Teppei.