i want to cry because the file is such bad quality

Let Us Know (PolyHamilsquad x reader)

A/N: Hello, my lovely wonderfuls! Here is my first (of many) polyhamilsquad story! I just realized I never put what character I’m writing about in the title (whoops). I apologize, I know I appreciate that when other (more talented) writers do that, so I’ll try keep that up. Anyways, I had lots of fun writing this and I really hope you all enjoy it! As always thank you, thank you, thank you for reading! And I hope you all have a day as wonderful and lovely as you are! Oh! And the song used in this fic is Back At One By Brian McKnight :)


You loved Sunday mornings. They were your favorite day of the week. Mostly because it was all your boys day off and you all got to sleep late. You loved waking up wrapped up with all your boys. It never failed to make you smile and fill you with joy.

This particular Sunday morning you were woken up by Johns soft lips pressing gentle kisses to your neck. You smile with your eyes still closed and run your fingers through his hair.

He looks up at you a smile gracing his sweet freckled face.

“Good morning lover girl, you’re looking beautiful as always,” he says nuzzling your neck and giving you more kisses.

You giggle and shake your head.

“I don’t think I look beautiful at all, but thank you,” you pull his face to yours and place a soft kiss of your own on his lips.

Lafayette starts stir beside you, “I want morning kisses too, ma petit colombe.”
You smile and turn to him.

“Well, Johnny here decided to steal his morning kisses from me.”

John nods pecking your cheek as you smile. Laf looks serious in thought, before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards him.

“I guess, I’ll have to steal mine too,” he says placing kisses all over your face.

“Gil,” you giggle.

He smiles down at you, and places a long, toe curling kiss on your lips. He pulls away when John clears his throat. Laf looks at John.

“You want on too, ma douce?”

John nods and Laf gives him kiss just like yours. They pull apart and you can see the love in their eyes and it makes your heart swell.

“Don’t mind me boys, I’m just going to move out of the way,” you say jokingly, trying to scoot out from between them. Before you can really get anywhere, Lafs hands are on your hips again, holding you still.

“Non, mon ange, we’re not done with you yet.”

You look from him to John and see their matching smirks and purse your lips.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wake up the other boys?” you ask, thinking the suggestion might distract them.

“We will, in just a few minutes,” Laf says as he starts kissing your neck and John kisses that ticklish spot on your ribs.

You start to squirm, trying to move. When you hear Alex begin to stir.

“Alex, honey, good morning. Look, boys Alex is awake,” you say and they both cease for a moment and chuckle.

“Are you bothering our dear (Y/N) already?”

“Non, mon amour, we’re stealing morning kisses,” Laf says while wiggling his eyebrows at Alex.

“Well, in that case,” and without warning Alex jumps over John and is on top of you within seconds.

“Alex,” you say in a warning tone.

“Yes, my love?” he asks a smirk at his lips as he leans over you.

“Don’t you think I should go make breakfast?”

“Of course, right after I steal my morning kisses,” and with that his lips are on yours.

He places a passionate kiss on your lips and then a gentle kiss, before moving down to your collar bone. Meanwhile, John and Laf had taken to kissing your hands and wrists. Leaving you no way of escape.

“Boys I think you’ve stolen more than enough,” you say breathlessly.

“Are you sure, mon ange?”

“I disagree baby girl.”

“Nope, not nearly enough, my love.”

You sigh, your only hope was Hercules. You start trying to tap him with your foot. You do so a few times and he starts to stir.

“Herc, my darling, would you mind helping me?”

He lifts his head to see your predicament and chuckles before sitting up.

“Alright, my loves, leave the cupcake alone.”

They all give a slight pout, as Herc helps you out of their hold, holding you to his chest. You smile up at him.

“Now, what’s going on?”

“We were stealing morning kisses,” John says wrapping his arms around Alex, while he reaches for Laf.

Herc laughs, “stealing morning kisses huh?”

He looks at you and you nod seriously. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to ask a lady for a kiss? Watch and learn.”

Herc turns his attention back to you and clears his throat.

“My darling, beautiful lady, may I have the pleasure of receiving a morning kiss?” You giggle before responding.

“Of course my darling,” you giggle, placing a hand to his cheek as you kiss him slowly and sweetly, silently thanking him for his rescue.

You both pull apart smiling, and look at the rest of your boys when you hear a throat clear. You see all three of them on one knee on the bed, with their right hands over their hearts and their left out towards you.

“My darling, beautiful lady, may I have the pleasure of receiving a morning kiss?” they all recite in together. You laugh and look at Herc, signaling him to let you down.

“Since you all asked so nicely,” you approach each of them giving them quick kisses on the lips barely slipping out of Alexander’s grasp.

They all give you pout, while you stand behind Herc.

“Darling, will you keep them distracted while I go make breakfast?

“Anything for you cupcake,” you kiss Hercs cheek and make your way to the kitchen. You hear a few sad groans before a burst of laughter from the bedroom.

You smile as you begin breakfast, this was really your favorite day. You loved spending time with your boys, and this was actually somewhat rare.

Your boys worked so hard, it was difficult to have this type of quality time all together. But, you usually had at least one of them around, so it didn’t bother you too much. You always reveled in these days though, these perfect blissful days.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Soon your favorite days were gone. At first it wasn’t that bad, but within a month it was like they all got twice as busy as before. Even your Sundays were no longer waking up late and spending the day together.

Now there was always one of them gone and you hated it, but you rationalized with yourself. It was their work, it was just because they had to work that was all.

Their usual attentiveness had dwindled. In the morning you woke up with your boys and made them breakfast, and lunches (they had a tendency to forget to eat). Instead of sweet, sometimes lingering kisses, you got a quick peck on the cheek or forehead as they made their way out the door.

Again, you told yourself that they were just consumed with work. They weren’t purposely putting you on the back burner. You reassured yourself daily, you knew they loved you. They had told you and shown you countless times. They loved you, they did.

Two months went by and it was still much of the same. You would tell yourself everyday, it’s just because of work. They had time consuming jobs.

Lafayette was a heart surgeon, Alex and John were lawyers, and Herc was a clothing designer. Laf was called into work at random times, of course you could understand how tired he was. Alex and John were both top lawyers at their firm, of course they want to stay there, you could understand their stress.

Herc was one of the best designers in New York, not to mention the country, and he had to travel to make sure things were done properly. Of course you understood, he made beautiful clothing, they were his own masterpieces, he wanted them done right.

All of this you understood and took into consideration. Everytime you got a peck instead of a kiss, a wave instead of an embrace, a quick ‘sure’ instead of an ‘of course, my love’. Everytime you got a brush off quickly because they had more important things to do.

You reminded yourself that they had hard jobs and that they worked hard. You didn’t need to take anything personally. But, it was getting harder and harder to do. You were a nurse at a pediatricians office and maybe your work wasn’t as hard as theirs, but you still made time for them.

You always made sure they ate during the day, sometimes forgetting to eat yourself. You always tried to make sure they got enough sleep, especially Alexander. You made sure they knew how much you loved them. Was it so bad to want that in return?

Your patience and understanding was starting to wear thin. You had had a really shitty day. The office had been busier than normal and full of sick children. Several of which had puked and or peed on you. There was constant screaming, and even some unfortunate hair pulling.

You had a pulsing headache, your feet were killing you, and you smelt unpleasant. All you wanted was a long shower, food, and sleep.

When you arrived home, you could see all of your boys were home. On your way into your home, you could hear Alex yelling at someone over the phone. John seemed to be looking over some files and Laf and Herc seemed to be talking in the kitchen.

You stood their for a few minutes waiting for a ‘welcome home’ or some type of acknowledgement. Much to your dismay there came none. You made your way to the bedroom, but before you were all the way there, Laf finally noticed you were home.

“There she is! We’ve been waiting for you,” he says smiling. “We’re going out in celebration of our Hercules being home. Go get ready so we can go.”

The thought of going out right now made you want cringe. You were so tired, physically and emotionally. You felt almost empty with all you’ve given these past months.

“I’m sorry boys, I just don’t feel up to it, but you guys go and have fun.”

They all look disappointed, including Alex, who had finally gotten off the phone.

“Come on (Y/N), it’ll be fun. Just get ready real quick,” Alex says looking at you like you were being slightly ridiculous.

“Please, we haven’t spent quality time together in a while, go get ready and we’ll wait,” John says in a sweet tone that makes you want to cry and yell at the same time. Where have you been??

“No, boys really I’m sorry, I’ve had a long day and just want to shower and go to sleep.”

“How about you shower and then we can go, I know you’ve had a long day, but don’t you want to spend time with us,” Alex tells you somewhat accusingly. The other boys looking at you for an answer.

And it’s the final straw, you had been patient, and sweet and understanding for two months. And now they were turning this on you? As if you’re the one neglecting them, as if you hadn’t waited up for them and then woken up with them to make sure they got to work and home okay. As if you hadn’t been taking the bare minimum of affection from them for two months!

“You know what, I know we haven’t spent time together. You want to know how I know? For the past two months, I’ve made sure all of you were okay, and eating, and cared about, whether you were here or at work or traveling.” You look at all them pointedly, trying to keep your tears at bay.

“I have waited up and gotten up for all of you everyday, made sure you had everything you needed,” you close your eyes and take a breath. “You know what I’ve gotten these past two months?” you look at each of them, they all look somewhat shocked at your outburst. “I’ve gotten quick pecks and half assed acknowledgments.”

“I know you all work hard and you’re all amazing at what you do. Usually you do make time for me and I appreciate the time I do get, but these past two months,” you take a breath as the tears starts to spill over your cheeks. “It’s just, it would be nice not to feel so empty once in awhile. I love you all so much but lately I feel like I’m just giving, and giving, and giving, and I’m left with nothing! I’ve tried to be understanding and patient, but I can’t do it anymore. And you know what I shouldn’t have to!”

They all stare at you guilt and sorrow on their faces, they look so distraught. And you feel instantly guilty.

“Baby girl…”

“My love…”

“Mon ange..”


They have tears brimming in their eyes and you hate that you caused it. No matter how upset you were with them, you didn’t want them to hurt.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s not your fault. I know it’s not, you’re all so good at what you do and I know you love your work. I’m just tired, that’s all.” They start to approach you, but you step back. “I’m fine, I promise. I’m just gonna go for a drive for a bit. You guys go out and have a nice dinner, okay?” You turn and walk out the door without waiting for a reply.

The boys try to stop you, but by the time they get to the door, you’re already gone. They go back inside and decide to wait for your return.

After two hours had passed they grew worried.

“She’ll come back, right?” John asks his other lovers.

“Of course she will, she loves us remember,” Herc tells him hugging him to his chest. Although the same fear was growing in the pit of his stomach

Alex looks less sure as he paces, hoping that you’re not crying on the road and his heart aching to be near you.

Lafayette is sitting on the couch, his knee bouncing, thinking of all the places you might go. And it hits him, the Schuylers! They were your best friends.

“I’m going to call Angelica and see if she’s heard from her,” the other boys nod their heads frantically.

“Angie, please tell me mon ange is with you….”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You drove around for thirty minutes before stopping at the Schuylers. You hated coming over unannounced, but you weren’t ready to go home and you were so tired.

You knocked on the door and tried to make yourself look presentable.

Peggy opened the door, took one look at you, pulled you in and called her sisters.
Eliza and Angelica came into the living room and immediately embraced you.

“(Y/N), what happened?” Angelica asks, brushing hair out of your face.

You try to hold back your tears, but they break free and fall down your cheeks. Eliza hugs you close and lets you cry on her shoulder until you’ve calmed.

After a few minutes, Peggy hands you some tissues and you thank her. You take a few deep breaths and tell them all what happened. How the past two months that the boys were so busy and you felt so lonely, how you tried to power through it, and how when you finally had all of them together you had an outburst that just ended up making everyone feel bad, including yourself.

“Okay, while we can all understand that they have time consuming jobs, that doesn’t mean they stop making time for you.”

“But Angie”-

“No, she’s right (Y/N). You shouldn’t feel any remorse about the way you feel in your heart. That’s not something you can control,” Eliza tells you holding your gaze.

Peggy nods in agreement before adding on.

“And you shouldn’t keep all of your emotions bottled up, if they’re doing something that hurts your feelings or makes you angry you need to say so.”

You nod knowing all of them are right, but the guilt still doesn’t dissipate.

“I need to get back home and talk to them,” you say getting up, but Angelica pulls you back down.

“You definitely need to talk to them, but it can wait until tomorrow.”

When you try protest both Eliza and Peggy shake their heads at you.

“You’re tired and emotionally drained, you need some time to refresh yourself.”

“And it’s okay to let them sweat a little bit, you do a lot for them,” Peggy says giving you a wink.

You laugh and shake your head.

“I need to tell them where I am, I don’t want them to freak out.”

“We’ll take care of it,” Angie says taking your phone from you. You knew better than to argue with her.

“Please be nice, I know I was upset, but I didn’t speak up either and they never meant to hurt me,” you look at her with pleading eyes, while she sighs and rolls her eyes at you.

“I guess, Eliza can call them then.”

The four of break out in laughter, once you all settle they send you to shower and told you to get some sleep.

Just as you leave, Angelica’s phone starts ringing and she sees it’s Lafayette. Right on time, she thinks.

“Angie, please tell me mon ange is with you..”

“Yes, she’s here and she’s spending the night, so don’t expect her home.”

She can hear the rest of the boys in the background, with relieved murmurs. She puts the phone on speaker, so her sisters can hear.

“Non, we can come get her.”

“You will do no such thing Laf. She needs some space, she is completely physically and emotionally drained.”

The boys pause at Eliza’s stern tone, but start up again.

“We need to talk to her, and comfort her, so she knows we love her,” John says his voice pleading.

“You can tell her all that tomorrow,” Peggy says.

The boys know that they won’t get past the Schuylers so they concede.

“Can you at least tell her that we love her and we’re sorry,” Alexander asks, sounding a little exasperated.

“We’ll relay the ‘we love you’, but you can all apologize yourselves tomorrow,” Angelica states.

“Try and get some sleep boys,” Eliza says in a more sympathetic tone this time.

Before they hang up, they hear a scoff and then, ‘yeah, like that’s gonna happen.’ They giggle and make their way to bed themselves.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next day, the boys are knocking at the Schuylers door, bright and early. More accurately, Alex is knocking incessantly while the others are asking him to pause for a second.

Minutes later, the door swings open to reveal a very irritated Angelica.

“It’s eight in the morning on a Saturday,” she nearly growls while glaring at them.

“I brought some croissants, for you all, mon ami,” Laf offers with a pleading smile.

She just raises an eyebrow, before opening the door wider and standing aside so they could enter.

“I’ll wake the angel, you wait here,” she says walking away.

They all wait in the living room, Alexander is cracking his knuckles, Johns leg is bouncing, Lafayette has his hands resting on his thighs and tapping his fingers on them, and Herc has his elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him sitting completely still.

As soon as you entered the room they all stood and resisted the urge to run to you. John just couldn’t help himself.

Before you can say a word he rushes to you and wraps his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“We’re sorry, we’re so sorry please don’t be upset anymore, we love you. Please don’t leave us.”

As the initial shock wears off you realize what John just said and look at the boys wide eyed. They all look away, and your heart aches.

You embrace John and step back a bit so you can look him in the eyes.

“I’m not leaving you guys, I love you,” your eyes meet each of the boys. “I may have been upset, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to quit on our relationship, you’re all my everything.”

The rest of the boys, rush to you and John. You’re completely surrounded by them, and you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You finally felt at peace, the boys were your home.

“We’re so sorry, cupcake.”

“Oui, we don’t deserve you mon ange.”

“You’re our everything, love, we all need you more than you realize. You could probably do without us, but we cannot do without you.”

You look at each of them, tears springing to your eyes and your heart swelling. John turns you to face him and brushes a tear from your cheek.

“It’s true baby girl, and we came up with a little something to prove it.”

You look at him confused.

“A little something?”

You look to the other boys, and they all just smile at you. Herc takes your hand and leads you to the couch.

“We’re going to need you to sit here, cupcake,” he winks at you.

Your confusion only grows as they all line up in front of you.

“You got the disc, babe,” Herc says to John, who happily nods and places a cd in the stereo.

We’re they going to perform for you? And they all got into the same pose. They all stand their hands clasped together in front of them and their heads down.

It’s undeniable that we should be together, it’s unbelievable that used to say that I’d fall never…

Herc was the first to step forward lip-syncing the song and then followed John, Laf, and Alex.

The basis is need to know, if you don’t know just how I feel

Then let me show you now that I’m for real

If all things in time, time will reveal

As one said a line the others danced behind him. Until they got to the chorus, which they all did together, acting out nearly every word.

One, you’re like a dream come true
Two, just wanna be with you
Three, girl it’s plain to see
That your the only one for me

Four, repeat steps one through three
Five, make you fall in love with me
If ever I believe my work is done
Then I start Back at One
Yeah (yeah)

You couldn’t help but smile at your boys, they were so ridiculously sweet, it made your heart soar.

It’s so incredible the way things work themselves out

And all emotional, once you know what it’s all about babe

And undesirable for us to be apart
Never would of made it very far

Cause you know that you’ve got the keys to my heart

Peggy, Angie, and Eliza had come to the living room because they heard music and held back their giggles at the boys sweet gesture.

One, you’re like a dream come true
Two, just wanna be with you
Three, girl it’s plain to see
That your the only one for me

Four, repeat steps one through three
Five, make you fall in love with me
If ever I believe my work is done
Then I start Back at One

As you watched them, you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have your own personal boy band. You loved them all so much.

Say farewell to the dark of night I see the coming of the sun

I feel like a little child
Whose life has just begun

You came and breathed new life
Into this lonely heart of mine

You threw out the life line just in the Nick of Time

As the song continued, the more dramatic they got and you couldn’t contain your giggles. And seeing your face lit up with joy made the boys hearts race.

One, you’re like a dream come true
Two, just wanna be with you
Three, girl it’s plain to see
That your the only one for me

Four, repeat steps one through three
Five, make you fall in love with me
If ever I believe my work is done
Then I start Back at One

When they finished the last line, you jumped up and clapped, while the girls followed suit. They bowed and you went to them, giving each of them a kiss.

“So, you liked it?” Alex asked nervously.

“Are you kidding, I loved it! If I hadn’t already forgiven all of you, that would have convinced me,” you said smiling big at them.

“Can we go home now, cupcake?” Herc asks his arms around your waist and his forehead against yours.

“Of course,” you say smiling and kiss nose.

“Bien, because we didn’t get a lot of sleep, and we missed you last night,” Laf says nuzzling your neck behind you, making you giggle.

“I call sitting with (Y/N) in the back,” Alex says while pulling you into his arms, and resting his head on yours, as you rest yours on his chest.

“Oh! Me too!” John exclaims wrapping his arms around you and Alex from behind you.

“I guess that means we get to cuddle with our darling girl when we get home then,” Herc says to Laf.

Both Alex and John gasp, and you giggle.

“Okay, boys you can take turns, let’s go home.” You gather your things and say goodbye and Thank you to the sisters, before heading out with your boys.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When you all arrived home and made your way to the bedroom, Lafayette stopped you.

“What is it Gil?”

“Mon ange, before we take our nap, I just want you to know that if you ever feel that way again, you can tell us.”

“Yeah, baby girl, we hated seeing you so upset.”

“Darling, we love you and you come before our work, always.”

“Love, if we ever fail to give you what you need, please, let us know.”

You look at each of them and nod.

“I promise, I will from now on. I’m sorry for not saying anything.”

Alex shakes his head at you.

“You don’t need to apologize my love.”
They all ask for a ‘good nap kiss’ and you giggle and give them each a sweet kiss, before you all settle into bed. You’re cuddled between Herc and Laf, as your eyes drift closed.

And an hour later the boys switch, Alex claiming he sleeps better next to you, while Laf and Herc roll their eyes, but comply to his request.

And this time as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help the warmth that spread in your heart, finally feeling complete.

The next week’s that passed by were filled with long lingering kisses, nearly constant cuddles, and ‘I love you’s. Your boys making sure that you felt completely loved and taken care of. And although this all made you feel immense joy, your favorite part was that you got your blissful Sundays back.

Curtain Call

First Part: Brave

Second Part: Breathing Space                                                        

Third Part: Plotting                                                                      

Fourth Part: New Arrangement                                                

Fifth Part: Spinning                                                                        

Sixth Part: Distraction                                                            

Seventh Part: Interlude                                                                

Eight Part: Duet                                                                            

Ninth Part: Pep Talk

Tenth Part: Break A Leg

Eleventh Part: Lights Up

Twelfth Part: Overheard

Part 13 in my developing Roman/Virgil University!AU <3

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Also on ao3 here

Act 2 feels… different. There’s no change in the show’s quality, not at all, but every time the stage lights are bright enough, Virgil finds himself taking out Roman’s letters again, squinting to read them, just to make sure he’s not dreamt the words. 

The third time he does this, Logan must notice out of the corner of his eye. He turns to Virgil, and Virgil can see him mouth ‘Are you alright?’

Virgil can only nod, still speechless. Roman’s passionate speech is still ringing in his ears, making him a little dizzy. It’s not a bad feeling, necessarily- like being stuck on a vigorous loop on a rollercoaster, but you’re suddenly wanting the swooping feeling to last forever. He notes with a grim satisfaction that there is no trace of Jake on stage.

And then, As Long as You’re Mine begins. And Virgil realises that, despite his bravado from earlier, the confrontation with Jake must still have shaken Roman, somewhat. His opening notes are still pitched well, but Virgil notices a slight tremor lurking beneath them, and he leans forward instinctively, wanting to help, but not sure how.

“Come on, Roman,” he murmurs and it’s ridiculous to think he could possibly have heard him.

But Roman’s head snaps up to look out into the audience and Virgil, for once, lets himself think and believe it: he’s looking for me.

Roman takes a breath, and starts to smile. His eyes stay fixed on Virgil’s as he sings, strong and sure: “Somehow I’ve fallen under your spell.” He finally tears his gaze away to look back at Rachel, so the line still makes sense. “And somehow I’m feeling… it’s up that I fell…”

Keep reading

you and me

◇ Jungkook is an assassin who is hired to kidnap you in order to lure your father to Bangtan.

◇ Jungkook x reader

◇ assassin!au

◇ assassin!kookie is legitimately all i’ve ever wanted in life tbh


He had no idea when his guilt faded into nothingness; when he no longer became bothered by the blood on his hands; when the passion he had fought so hard for eventually seeped away.

He had thought nothing would bring them back; he almost didn’t want to have something have so much control over him - but then, when he least expects it, they come hurtling at him like a truck, and he has no idea what to do.


“On your right, Kook.” Jimin’s voice was quiet despite the fact that he was safely far away and tucked inside an armoured building, talking to Jungkook, who was the one who was executing the treacherous act. “Wearing the light green gown. She’s a beauty - hard to miss.”

Jungkook sighs, dressed in a black suit and sitting at the gleaming bar that was in the ballroom. He lifts the wine glass to his lips, covertly glancing to his right and catching sight of just who Jimin had described.

_____ _____. His target’s daughter. The person he’d be kidnapping to lure her father in, and then he could only guess that she’d be killed too.

Jungkook didn’t care about her father, really. He was a horrible man and that’s why he was being targeted. He bribed and blackmailed, tore families apart, and all for the money. Jungkook thought it was safe to say he deserved everything coming to him.

His daughter, on the other hand, was probably one of the people who was most undeserving of this. He remembered the feeling of regret and guilt that had consumed him as he read through the file Namjoon had slid over the table to him. He didn’t know what was more surprising; that he actually felt something for once, or that Namjoon felt that this mission was so important that he personally delivered the file to Jungkook.

_____ _____ was her name, obviously. She was 17, turning 18, but she had more on her plate than most people twice her age. Her mother died when she was 11, her uncle and aunt died in a car accident when she 14, her grandmother died just last week, and her dad was about to die.

She volunteered at local animal centres, and donated money to charity and orphanages and vets and animals shelters and suddenly Jungkook doesn’t think this will be so easy anymore.

And she was beautiful. Sparkling eyes and smooth skin and a beautiful smile, and Jungkook was sorry that such a kind and beautiful person had to die because she had a shitty dad.

“Jungkook?” Jungkook almost forgot where he was. He coughs awkwardly, inhaling a deep breath as he sets down his champagne glass. “You there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he murmurs quietly, shaking his head gently as he runs a hand through his dark burgundy locks. Years and years of undercover missions had trained Jungkook into looking as if he wasn’t even talking, though he could be having a full blown conversation with somebody.

“She’s going outside, Kookie. Through the east door and she’s going towards the fountain at the centre, I think. I can’t see too well, it’s dark.”

Jungkook thanked him anyway, and downed the rest of the alcohol, before he stands up, brushing himself off and glancing around at the people around him, all dressed in expensive gowns and suits.

Jungkook suddenly feels very cut off from these people, who’s shoes probably cost more that what he was worth. He’s never been packed with money - he spent the first few years of his life on the streets, scavenging and struggling. He only got onto his feet once Namjoon’s father had found him and took him in, training and sculpting him into the man he was today. And yeah, sure, he had money now - but he still felt oddly isolated.

He’s comforted by the fact that he could possibly take out all of these people in less than an hour without anybody knowing - he’s much more powerful than them and their burly bodyguards who could probably only throw a punch.

He starts to make his way through the crowd, making sure nobody was watching him just in case they remembered his face (and Jungkook definitely had a memorable face).

“Is she still there?” He asks craftily as he maneuvers passed yet another waiter holding a golden tray full of champagne. The doors were in his sight, the gardens outside illuminated by moonlight.

“Yeah, she’s just kinda… sitting there? I don’t know, man, but I don’t think she’ll be getting up anytime soon,” Jimin commented, and Jungkook could just hear the squint in his voice, knowing that he was trying hard to see what she was doing, knowing that even though the CCTV cameras were good quality, they still weren’t as good as eyesight.

“Alright,” Jungkook mutters, approaching the white french doors that lead into the grand gardens. “I’m going in.”

“Tae’s near the bushes to the right of the fountain, out of sight of the cameras. Hoseok is in the white van that’s about a kilometre north. They’ll drive you to a gas station a few miles away and then you’ll get into another car with the girl and travel to headquarters.”

“Okay.” Jungkook doesn’t say much, repeating the instructions over and over in his head and prepping himself for the conversation he’s about to start, walking past beautiful exotic flowers that he more than likely couldn’t name and fragrant bushes of green leaves.

All of the paths lead up to one thing; a beautiful fountain of two marble dolphins, intertwined into the shape of a heart with diamonds for eyes and spewing crystal clear water from their mouths. Numerous marble benches surround the area, and there you are, perched on one, your head in your hands and your shoulders shaking.

Jungkook gulps, cracking his neck and brushing off non-existent dirt as he approaches you wearily. How strange was it that after years of smooth talking and charms, he still had to muster up enough strength to talk to a girl? “Uh, is - is this a bad time?”

He hopes your pick up on the slight humorous tone in his voice; he doesn’t want you to think that he’s too serious and lose your attention before Taehyung knocks you out.

Your head shoots up, your breathing is heavy, your eyes are rimmed with red but Jungkook still thinks you look radiant, especially with the moonlight illuminating your figure and the rose bushes that were behind you framing your body.

“Oh!” You exclaim, wiping your eyes quickly and Jungkook definitely knows this isn’t the first time you’ve sneaked off to cry at parties; it’s just the first time you’ve been caught.

“I - I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” you mutter, laughing awkwardly as you rub your hands against the light green chiffon of your dress.

“I - did you want something?” You stutter, trying to divert attention from yourself to Jungkook. Jungkook smiles awkwardly, moving apprehensively towards the same bench you were on. You let him sit beside you, clasping his hands together as he leans forward, his elbows on his thighs, and turns to look at you.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” He murmurs, biting his lip as he realises that you have the cutest beauty spot just beside your eyebrow. He has to stop - he clears his throat nervously as he sees the reluctant look on your face.

“I don’t know,“ you raise an eyebrow jokingly. “I don’t even know you. And - if I tell you this,” you continue, “You can’t tell anyone else, okay?”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. “I don’t even know your name-”

“Jungkook.” The word has spilled out of his lips before he realized it. He refrains his eyes from widening as he notices what he just did, but he doesn’t matter, not as he sees Taehyung shoot him a look from behind a bush a few metres away. He’s reminded that you probably won’t be alive by the end of the week, and his mood lowers.

“Well, Jungkook,” you smile sadly, “I’m ______. And my grandmother just died.” Jungkook’s face contorts in pity - not because of your grandmother’s death, but because of the emotions that must be tormenting  you. He can’t relate, but he guesses that it’s horrible. “My mother died, my aunt and uncle died, and the last person I loved died.”

Your voice breaks but you take a deep breath and stop your tears from falling. You bite your lip and turn to him, smiling bitterly. “That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Jungkook echoes skeptically, “That’s it? That’s a big deal, ______. Your grandmother just died, you have every right to be upset. I mean, your dad is the only person you have now-”

Jungkook winces as he realises that not only did he give away that he knew you, it sounded insensitive and rude, too. “Sorry,” he starts, “That came out wrong-”

“Not really,” you sigh, casting your gaze downwards. You didn’t seem to realise that he knew who you were. “My grandmother was my last loved one left. My dad could care less about me,” you laugh bitterly, “The only reason he probably hasn’t disowned me is because I could potentially marry someone with loads of money.”

“That’s… that’s pretty horrible,” Jungkook mutters, watching as Taehyung approaches, cloth doused in chloroform in one hand and rope in the other. He bites his lip; he feels worse than he should for doing this.

“It is,” you agree, smiling, “But I’ve come to terms with it.” It’s silent for a moment and Taehyung’s almost directly behind you. “Thanks, Jungkook. That was definitely something I needed to get out.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw in guilt, but feigns a smile. This - this type of heaviness is tugging at his chest, and he doesn’t like it. It’s unfamiliar, unwelcome.

“Your welcome,” he whispers, watching Taehyung cover your mouth and watching your eyes widen in panic and betrayal. Your eyes flutter shut, and you become limp seconds later. Taehyung ties your wrists and legs together, and Jungkook almost winces at how tight it looks.

Taehyung grunts as he throws you over his shoulder, making sure you left absolutely no evidence, before he’s looking at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook realizes that he’s been staring into space for a few seconds and coughs awkwardly, straightening his posture and painting his face with the emotionless look he was known for.

“Let’s go, then.”


It’s been 30 minutes since you had been officially kidnapped; after walking for about 10 minutes through thick forest, they came to a road that spun through the tall trees and continued out into the desert. Just as Jimin had said, Hoseok was waiting for them, all smiles and watching ______ curiously.

Jungkook felt slightly possessive over you after seeing how Hoseok had inspected you - after speaking with you, even for just a few minutes, he felt as if you were his responsibility, his girl - which was messed up, because he just helped kidnap you. And, anyway, his brain taunts him, she’ll be dead by Sunday.

The remaining 20 minutes was mostly spent in silence; Jimin informed them over the phone that people had noticed  _______’s absence and were searching for her already - her disappearance should be all over the news by tomorrow, Jimin had said. That gave Jungkook a good 5 or 6 hours to get to headquarters, where _____ would be held until her father came to them and was killed - and then she would be killed. A stone of emotion settled in Jungkook’s stomach, surprising him.

He was known as the stone cold one. The one who would never think twice before pulling the trigger. The one who couldn’t care less if his target volunteered at orphanages or gave $100 to a homeless person, and the fact that some random girl was reducing him to a hormonal teenager irritated and confused him.

He stole a glance at the girl that was laying on the seats opposite Taehyung and himself. Her wrists were already turning red because of how tight Taehyung had tied the rope (“I read she took Judo, Kookie. I’m not risking it.”), and her hair was ruffled and mussed. But she looked peaceful, and the only thing that could come to Jungkook’s mind was her - looking exactly as she did now, but blood seeping from the bullet hole in her heart. You can’t grow attached, he chants to himself, it will only end badly.

"You’re acting weird, Kookie,” Taehyung furrows his brows. Jungkook averts his gaze from the girl across from him, instead meeting Taehyung’s eyes. His friend is staring at Jungkook in confusion, eyes flitting between him and ______.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook knows exactly what he’s talking about, but Taehyung doesn’t need to know that. “What do you mean?”

Taehyung scoffs. “You know exactly what I mean! Earlier on, you told her your name. You never tell anybody your name - heck, it took you three weeks for you to tell me your name-!”

“So you’re jealous?” Acting oblivious is the only thing Jungkook can do right now to get Taehyung off of his back. “You think I’m acting weird because I told her my name, even though it’s 90% certain that she’ll be dead in a few days?”

Taehyung is silent for a second, before he sighs. “That’s never mattered before,” he mutters, turning his head towards the front seat, where Hoseok is seated, listening to their conversation but not giving his input. He’s like that. He listens but never acts unless it’s completely necessary, and that was one of the reasons Jungkook liked him.

Jungkook clenches his jaw at Taehyung’s muttered comment, but says nothing. Taehyung is older than him and won’t hesitate to put Jungkook in his place, no matter how close they were. Instead, he turns his head the opposite direction, making sure he can still see you, and leans on one hand, waiting for them to reach the gas station.


“She should wake in a few hours, and there should be enough gas in it to get you to headquarters,” Hoseok explains, pointing to the Ford Fiesta that was parked at a gas pump. It wasn’t flashy, so nobody would look twice at it, and the registration plate was fake and couldn’t be tracked. “Tae and I are turning back to put the letter in place, and we’ll be home soon.”

Jungkook nodded, looking around to make sure nobody spotted him propping an unconscious ______ into the back seat of the car, inconspicuously trying to make her comfortable with Hoseok or Taehyung seeing.

“And then what?” He knows he’s said the wrong thing as soon as Hoseok raises an eyebrow, peering at him with narrowed eyes.

“And then we wait until her father comes to us. You know how it goes, Kook. Jeez, you really are acting off,” Hoseok mumbled, ruffling his orange hair with one hand, before rolling his eyes and turning towards the van where Taehyung was still seated. “Just do your job, Kook. We’ll see you later.”

Jungkook cursed internally. Taehyung and Hoseok were getting suspicious - he really needed to stop feeling like this, or else he could endanger his job. Relationships weren’t frowned down upon, of course - but with his target? It would meet some opposition.

He ran a hand through his hair, screwing his eyes shut, before he puffed out his cheeks and straightened his posture for what seemed the thousandth time that night, opening the door to the Ford and slipping in.

He turns the keys in the ignition, turning to strap on his seatbelt, and catches sight of you in the rear-view mirror; your eyebrows were now furrowing, and Jungkook guesses that you’ll wake soon – he decides that it’s best to start driving before you wake and cause a commotion.

The first few hours of the ride are silent; the inky darkness eventually transitioned to candlelight-like sunniness, and Jungkook stared ahead as he drove - he’d never admit it, but he’d occasionally sneak a glance at you as you stirred every few minutes.

There was nothing else to see, really; the desert was the desert, boundless and bare, stretching farther than the eye could see, and you were much prettier anyway.

It was only 10 minutes later when you woke from your forced slumber – a small gasp woke Jungkook from the almost robotic daze he was in. His eyes widened and he turned slightly in his seat to inspect you, chewing his lip in anticipation.

Your eyebrows were knitted together, eyes rimmed with red and already flooding with tears of fear. Jungkook could hear the short and erratic breaths escaping you, and it made him feel worse.

“Jungkook?!” Your voice was muffled and full of fear, just as Jungkook expected it to be with the piece of cloth wrapped around your mouth. “J-Jungkook, what are you doing? Where am I? What – what are you going to do to me?”

That last question struck a chord in Jungkook; he knew what Namjoon was going to do to you, and he hated it – he didn’t want you to spend your last few days in complete fear. He coughed, shaking his head. “Nothing you need to know.”

It was silent for a second and Jungkook wonders if that just made it worse - he wouldn’t know. If he was faced with certain death he’d just accept it, no questions asked, but he has to take the fact that you have emotions into consideration.

He waits for you to say anything else, keeping his focus on the quiet road in front of him. Then, he heard sniffling. His head snapped upwards towards the rear-view mirror, and he was surprised and contrite to see tears slipping down the reddened skin of your face.

“You – you’re going to kill me,” you whimpered, screwing your eyes shut. Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened at the blunt statement. “I’m not stupid… You… After you get my father… I’m – I’m gonna die.”

Your voice broke on the last word, and unlike earlier, you didn’t fight the tears that erupted from you. They trailed down your face in silvery rivers, marking your skin with emotion and Jungkook gulped, taking a deep breath and trying to stay focused.  

“I… I actually trusted you!” Your voice is hysteric now, “God, I knew I shouldn’t’ve told you anything about me…”

“That’s not what’s gonna happen, sweetheart,” he murmurs quietly, and it’s loud enough for you to hear because your sobs have been reduced to small sniffles. He clenches his jaw, rolling his shoulders back and gripping the steering wheel tightly. He doesn’t know what he’s saying, but the protectiveness he’s feeling is taking control of his words - and he finds that he doesn’t disagree with them. “I’m not gonna let that happen to you.”

Jungkook knows that there’s a 50% chance that he can’t come through with his promise – but he doesn’t care, especially as your eyes lose their hostility towards him a few minutes after and your heartbeat calms. He’s strangely determined to see you live - you deserve that much.


“We’re here,” Jungkook mutters from the front seat. His words stir you from the sleepy and confused daze you were in previously, head starting to pound from the crying you had done earlier and fear still in the pit of your stomach. You’d be lying if you said you were completely comfortable with Jungkook – he was involved in getting you kidnapped, after all – but some part of you wanted to believe his promise and trust him.

You’re still tied up so you can’t manage to even sit up independently so you can take a peek out the window, but Jungkook exits the driver’s seat and flings the door open, pulling you out uncharacteristically gently and hauls you into his arms. It’s awkward and the sun is blinding you, you’re still in your gown from the banquet and you must look a mess, but your looks are the last thing on your mind right now.

The building Jungkook has stopped outside of is tall, broad, and made out of a dull grey stone and glass. It’s surrounded by high gates and has a car park out back filled with numerous cars, and beside it stands two other buildings - they look like apartment blocks. You wonder how these people haven’t been caught by the authorities yet, but you realize that they were most likely hired by the authorities - so who is it that wants your father dead?

Trick question - everyone does.

Jungkook stops outside of the gates and re-adjusts you in his arms, bending down just a tiny bit to speak into a little intercom that is directly beside the closed gate entrance. You gasp as you see a red laser run over Jungkook’s open eye – a light glows green in confirmation and then the gates are opening slowly but surely.

He doesn’t wait for them to open fully, slipping through the amount that has opened and striding towards the doors of the main building. As you look up at Jungkook, you notice that he looked completely and utterly blank – no light in his eyes, no slight smile lingering on the corner of his mouth – just complete and utter blankness. And that scared you more than anything - even though you had only known him for a few hours, he’d always looked so… so full of emotion.

The doors of the main building open suspiciously easily, and then Jungkook is walking through the surprisingly bright halls. There are people standing around, talking, drinking coffee, doing whatever people do, and only a few stop to glance at the sight of Jungkook, dressed in suit and tie, carrying a women tied up and in an expensive and luxurious gown. This must be a common occurence.

The fear in you is thriving now. Your stomach feels uneasy and unsettled, and you find yourself seeking comfort from the one person that you know even the tiniest bit – Jungkook. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you shrinking into his chest though, and keeps walking, occasionally nodding to some people, the same blank look on his face.

Jungkook walks until he reaches a black door, completely bare except for a silver doorknob that he turns so that he can enter the room.

Your heart is beating fast now. You find yourself shutting your eyes tightly, dreading what was to come, but the only thing you were met with was silence. You open your eyes – they’re all staring at you.

Four men, not including Jungkook, who is still holding you close. All sitting around a large conference table, facing a gigantic TV and numerous computers and machines. They’re all silent, watching you closely as Jungkook sets you on a chair at the table, still tied up and gagged.

One of them sighs, running a hand through his hair and letting a chuckle escape his lips. “Jesus, Kookie. At least untie her.”

He’s tall, with a deep voice and dimples that don’t suit his profession or his appearance. He’s being awfully nice for someone who just had you kidnapped.

Jungkook, who’s standing behind you, scoffs but nevertheless he undoes the ropes that are digging into your skin. You notice that he spends a second soothing over the sore skin with his thumbs before he moves onto the gag tied around your head – and so does everyone else, because most of them are raising their eyebrows but they don’t object to anything.

Once your untied and ungagged, it almost feels as if you’re more vulnerable. You hug your arms to yourself, casting your gaze to the ground and hoping for the best even though you have a bad feeling about everything.

“Look up, doll,” another voice says. You daren’t disobey anybody in this room, and so you look up, meeting eyes with another one of the men. He has blonde hair, platinum and shiny, and plump lips and you acknowledge that he’s handsome, but it doesn’t stop you from wanting him to take a hike and never return.

“I know you’re confused,” he starts, voice condescending and making you clench your jaw. If you don’t get an explanation, you know you’re going to start crying. Fear is constricting your chest and even Jungkook’s presence isn’t helping. “But we’re not gonna hurt you – if your father co-operates.”

As soon as he says the words, you know you’re basically dead. “My father won’t come for me,” you mutter, taking the people in the room by surprise. “He doesn’t care about me, and I hope you know that.”

The one with dark, silvery blond hair grins from his space at the computer. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he comments, looking away from the computer. “Because either your father was kidnapped a few hours ago, or I’d say he’s coming to us.”

Your heart stops in your chest, eyes widening. The surprise shows on your face and you’re genuinely confused – your father? Willingly handing himself over? Willingly giving himself up, without a fight, just to save his daughter, that he despises? It sounded fake.

"Excuse me?” You echo, leaning forward. You don’t believe it - your father would never give himself up for your sake. The last one at the table raises an eyebrow at your reaction, mint green hair flopping as he rolls his neck. He turns to Jungkook, who’s still standing behind you, his hand on your shoulder protectively.

“Go take her to your apartment, Kookie.” He averts his attention to you, and you almost shiver at the sheer lack of emotion in his dark, dark eyes.

“We’ll spare you, but only because Kookie’s taken a liking to you. So - your father shows, you live. If he doesn’t,” a cold grin spreads across his face, “Better start thinking of your last words, baby girl.”

His words conjure a shiver that travels up your spine, and you register what he said only when Jungkook is grasping your wrist and pulling you out of the room, letting you exit first as if to shield you from the stares of the men inside.

Jungkook has taken a liking to you? Hard to believe, after the kidnapping and stuff, but also easy to believe. You weren’t oblivious – the promise he had assured in the car, the way he seemed to be protective of you when around people who were dangerous. You just figured that that was how Jungkook was - but apparently not.

You just - it… it seemed unreal, how lucky you were to be spared. Your mind was blank, and yet you began to feel sadness rise in your throat. You never particularly liked your father, but he was the last bit of family you had. You - you’d be alone.

The air is thick between you both as Jungkook leads you out of the main building and into the second building that looks more like an apartment block rather than the office that the main building was. He keeps sneaking glances at you and you pretend not to notice, until he leads you into the elevator and you’re stuck in silence.

“About… about what they said earlier,” Jungkook mumbles, leaning nonchalantly onto the railing of the elevator. He bites at his lip, feeling an extremely foreign feeling in his stomach at how small and confused you look. “I’m not gonna pretend that they were lying – because they definitely weren’t – but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”

You nod, staring at the red carpet of the elevator, “I guess… I guess I’m still kind of uncomfortable around you.” Seeing the discouraged yet understanding look on his face, you shake your head. “But I’m on my way to being comfortable with you, definitely. When… when this whole… whole horrible thing is over-”

Your voice breaks and you’re cursing yourself for being so weak. Your father hates you, but you’re still going to miss him. You’re going to be spared but you’re still scared senseless by those men in the conference room.

Jungkook is torn between comforting you and not comforting you – he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and he’s rusty with his… ‘emotions’, but he’s read that hugs help people calm down, and you definitely look like you could use a hug.

He settles for pulling you close to his chest, resting his chin on your head and waiting for an objection of some sort. He doesn’t hear one, and sighs, shutting his eyes tight, wondering how screwed up your lives were on a scale of ‘White Picket Fence’ to ‘Cannibalistic Father-in-Law’. He decides that you’re pretty high up on the scale.

“Come on,” he says now, pulling away from the embrace and grasping your wrist. You notice now that the elevator doors have opened and are displaying a clean white wall. He pulls you through the hallway, past numerous wooden doors with numbers on them, until he reaches the one at the end of the hall. After pulling out a key card and swiping it, the door opens and reveals his apartment.

Jungkook tugs you in gently, a hand grasping your wrist softly. You linger in the living room while he delves further into the apartment, and busy yourself with calming the conflicting whirlwind of emotions in your stomach by peering around at where Junkook lived.

If apartments could have personalities, Jungkook’s definitely did. It was mostly black and white, as if the apartment had come like that, but it had splashes of colour here and there; a lone t-shirt, a small and old photograph, and, amusingly, an Iron Man figurine.

“I take it you’re a bit worn down?” He asks, returning with a shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. You hadn’t realised it, but you definitely were – your head was starting to ache, too, and the dress you had on felt more tight than usual.

You nod, and he hands you the clothes with a sheepish grin. “They might be a bit big, but it’s definitely better than sleeping in that.”

“True,” you agree, cracking a weak smile and accepting the clothes off of him. He directs you to the bathroom that’s next to his bedroom, telling you to go there when you’re finished dressing. After removing your dress, you only seem to notice the red marks that are still engraved in the sensitive skin of your wrist. Wincing, you pull the clothing over your body, trying not to irritate the marks and make them worse.

When you were finished, eyes drooping and mouth yawning every five seconds, you trudged into the room next over, your dress bundled in your arms. Jungkook is lying in bed, on his back and staring at the ceiling. When he notices that you’ve entered the room, he sits up, taking a glance at the dress in your hold.

“Just put it in the corner over there,” he comments, lying back down and waiting with baited breath for you to join him.

It’s awkward at first. Of course it is; you met Jungkook only yesterday, confessed your feelings within 24 hours and at the same time felt almost completely comfortable with him. You had never really had feelings for someone before – was this what it felt like?

A few minutes had passed and it’s getting cold despite the duvet that’s covered both of you. You’re almost sure that Jungkook is holding his breath because he’s so nervous, and decide that maybe you have to take a chance. You wiggle over in the bed until you’re directly beside Jungkook – the warmth radiating from him makes you sigh and wrap your arms around his broad chest.

It seems like hours before Jungkook finally releases a breath and starts acting normal; as normal as an assassin that was hired to kidnap you could act. One of his arms has wrapped around you and his breathing has evened.

“That picture in your living room,” you begin quietly, breaking the comfortable silence that’s settled over you, “What is it?”

He doesn’t speak for a while - a whole novel of choices is relaying in his mind right now. That photo was extremely personal and tended to stir emotions up within him, but he quickly realises that in order to make your situation work, he had to open up to you. Even if he hadn’t spoken about it in years.

“It’s my mother,” he answers. His voice is uncharacteristically small, and it almost reminds you of a child. “She was beautiful - well, you could see that from the picture…”

He inhales deeply. “She always smelled like flowers and she gave the best hugs - and when she died, a part of me died with her, I guess. I had no other people in my life - my dad walked out on us, she was an only child, and my grandparents were dead. I was only 8 at the time, but I was living on the streets and scrabbling to survive. That’s when I was recruited.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, “I know how you feel. When my mother died, I felt as if I’d never be happy again. It was horrible, like a… a cloud. A rainy cloud, just constantly hanging over my head. And then my aunt and uncle were gone, too, and it was unbearable. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. And then my grandmother was gone too.”

“You’ve had a much worse experience than I have,” he notes.

“Some would say that,” you agree, “But my grandmother taught me to keep looking ahead, you know? To always remember that the sun will keep rising. To remember that happiness is everywhere, and that I’ll find it one day.”

He notices your voice trail off sleepily as you finish, and he glances down at you - your eyes have fluttered shut, your head on his chest and your mouth opened in a small 'o’ as you slip into dreamland.

“I never thought happiness was a thing I deserved,” Jungkook whispers finally, minutes later. He heaves a deep sigh, and then he murmurs, “I never thought it’d come to me, after everything I’ve done. But… but you’re here, next to me, and I think it’s the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

He may be imagining it, but he thinks your embrace tightens around him.

anonymous asked:

Soo, can you write a sequel to the fic where Dick brings up Jason's old Robin costume (and successfully embarrassing him), where Bruce brings out the old scrapbooks of Dick, Jay, and Timmy? (Successfully mortifying all three boys, and bringing up old, embarrassing stories that occurred to them) bonus - Robin!Tim

Ok so here’s the last one! Thank you everyone who sent in prompts and for being patient with me when a few took a little longer than planned. I start school next week so I’ll be very busy but I plan of doing another writing prompt when I have time! I’ll admit I’ve been struggling with exactly how exactly to go about this prompt when it hit me. What do parents do when they have embarrassing pictures? They weaponize it.

Bruce really hated fighting with his partners, aside from the fact that it interrupted that strong, united front he had come to rely on, they just had to make the whole ordeal personal.

“You know what your problem is B?” Nightwing shouted on top of a roof that every pimp and junkie in Crime Alley could probably hear. “You don’t know how to feel; you just bottle everything up and come across as a cold hearted bastard. And I try, I try so damn hard to respect your boundaries but it’s hard when I can’t even tell if you like me half the time, much less love me.” Bruce fought down the sigh that was building in his chest. He wonders if it’s always this hard with children, or just vigilante ones.

“Nightwing, calm down,” he says dryly, hoping to talk down his eldest from tirade but it only seemed to get him more worked up.

“You never wanted to deal with people, you just want someone to control. You want someone as empty and hollowed out as you are who just blindly follows your orders and never asks for anything in return.” Dick’s face is flushed beneath his mask and he points at himself. “I need reassurance sometimes. I need to hear you admit sometimes that you care, that it’s not just about the mission sometimes. I mean,” some of the fight drained out of the young hero. “Do you even notice us outside of our costumes? Are we anything more to you than an extra hand in the field?” He asked with a sad sigh.

“Christmas Eve, your third year at the house.” Bruce said softly so only Dick could hear him. “You accidently got ahold of some alcoholic eggnog and staggered around for hours, stripped down to your underwear, singing some old song in Romani.” His lips twitch slightly at the fond memory but he needs to remain serious. Dick’s face softens at the story.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. My head was killing me the next day, Alfie let me open my presents in bed.” He chuckles warmly.

“It’s something I cherish,” Bruce admits quietly, “those quiet moments I’ve had with you, with all of you, they’re the reason I can keep going every night.” Dick smiles and puts a hand on his shoulder. “I can reminisce on them any time seeing as I have a few dozen photographs of the event, I’m sure Barbara and your friends would enjoy them too.”

Nightwing freezes, his striped fingers clenching Bruce’s shoulder in shock as the full implications hit him. “Oh man, B, you wouldn’t do that. That’s like… practically illegal to break out the embarrassing cutsie pictures.” Dick moans.

“That depends, are you done with your little temper tantrum?” Batman teases right back, smiling when his son starts to laugh and back off so he can hold his gut.

“Oh man, talk about tough love. Fine, I give; I’ll keep our personal arguments to the house but please give me those photos, including the negatives. I won’t get my teammates to respect me again if they see those.”

“You’ll have to talk to A about that one, he’s particularly fond of the one where you’re drunkenly sprawled half naked in the aft ballroom. 


“Hood, step down.” Bruce ground out roughly, hating that he had to use such a tone with his boy but Jason wasn’t in his right mind right now. He’d been doing so good, being friendly with Dick and Tim, refraining from lethal force. He’d even come over to the Manor once or twice for dinner in the last few months. But now he’s angry, enraged to the point of recklessness with a gun pressed flush against the temple of a local dealer who had purposely sold low quality drugs to children because they couldn’t afford any better. Now they had a morgue full of dead children and this sick, twisted man was threatening to send his boy over the edge again. “Put your weapon down and back away.”

“This scum deserves to die Batman; sixteen kids are dead because of this bastard.” Jason shouts, ramming the pistol harder against the dealer’s temple. “You can’t stop me from doing what needs to be done!”

A few of Gordon’s men slowly approached but he saw Jim wave them off. He may not know the whole story but he knew that Batman was the only one who could talk down the Red Hood. Plus he knew that this was a family affair.

“We caught him Hood, you and me. He is going to suffer the consequences of his terrible actions for the rest of his life in prison. Don’t be like him; don’t put him in the same morgue as those kids you’re trying to avenge.”

Jason makes an enraged keening noise and Bruce knows that inside his helmet, Jason is angrily crying. Jay used to do that as a boy; he’d get so worked up during an argument that soon there’d be tears spilling out of his eyes and the both of them would fold. As much as he hates to see his boy in pain, the familiar holdover from his childhood gave him hope that the situation, that Jason, could still be saved.

“Do you remember how much you used to idolize Nightwing?” Bruce begins slowly, going out into uncomfortable and unfamiliar territory. But for Jason, well he’d do pretty much anything. “You acted indifferent but I saw how you admired the idea of Robin, how much you wanted to be him.”

“What the hell are you talking about, old man?” Hood demands in a scratchy voice but still with his gun trained on his target.

“One night I came home from patrol early and I found you bouncing around the cave in the old Robin costume, shouting out witty retorts and doing some incorrect, but enthusiastic, martial arts.” One of the officers behind him snorts quietly into his hand while Bruce just smiles. “The costume was far too big for you; the boots kept slipping off and you stole one of my belts to keep the pants up.”

“Why are you,” Jason hisses and Bruce can hear the embarrassment in his voice.

“I took some stills of the event from the security footage. I’ve kept them safely hidden away all these years but I promise you, I will send digital and hard copies of those photographs to every member of Gordon’s MCU if you shoot that man.” There’s a hushed silence before Jason lowers his gun and turns to look at him with astonishment.

“Are you actually blackmailing me? With baby pictures?” In the moment Hood had taken his attention off the dealer, the man made a break for it. Jason spun back around, bringing his weapon back up and aiming it. It’s an easy shot for a man like him, but now Gordon’s men have run forward and brought down the dealer on their own and are cuffing him. Jason growls angrily, tensing up before slowly allowing himself to relax. He opens his hand and lets the gun clatter to the ground.

“Can’t risk losing my street cred over a couple of dumb old pictures.” Jason murmurs softly his voice teasing and maybe even a little bit relieved, of course that could just be Bruce’s wishful thinking. He wanted to say more to the troubled young man but Hood was already running, halfway up a fire escape before Bruce could move. Well, there were other days and other pictures.

“Good job there,” Gordon says conversationally as his men haul off the dealer where he’ll receive proper punishment. “I understand that you made a promise, but how would you feel about a trade? The picture of your boy in green underwear for Barbara getting tangled up in the monkey bars.”



“How long have you been awake Timothy?” Tim paused halfway through his yawn at the gruff voice behind him. You know things are bad when adults pull out the full name. He shook himself awake a little more before turning to face Batman or Bruce really seeing as the cowl wasn’t up.

“B it’s fine, Deathstroke’s been giving the Titans trouble again and I need to be more prepared this time.” Tim sighed and turned back to the screen where he’s been staring at Slade Wilson’s file for hours. “He critically injured Bart last time, made fools of us. We need to be ready, I need to be ready.” Tim said, sinking into his chair as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Tim, you know as well as I that you reach a point in investigations where you’re overworked and overrun and you’re not thinking straight.” Bruce said putting his hands on Tim’s shoulders. “I guarantee you this will still be down here in the morning and that you’ll be thinking much clearer.” Tim frowned in annoyance and leaned closer to the screen because the words were starting to blur.

“Yeah, got it,” Tim said with a dismissive wave. “I’ll be up in a half hour, I promise.”

“Tim,” Bruce growled out not unkindly. “This is the fifth time I’ve had to come down here. I thought I’d give you one more chance before Alfred dynamited you out of the Cave.” Tim sighed.

“Bruce,” he moaned, “you don’t understand.” He said like the teenager he occasionally was.

“Oh I think I understand obsessive behavior and near idealistic sense of martyrdom better than most,” Bruce said dryly. “I can see that you’re not going to make this easy so you’re forcing me to fight dirty.” Tim’s body tensed up as his chair was spun around, expecting Bruce to unleash some physical pain upon him.

“You were the least skilled of all the boys when you first came to me,” Bruce began ominously. “You had to work extra hard to gain the muscle and stamina required before you could even undergo my training.” Tim made a face but nodded, it’s not like it wasn’t true and those were some agonizing couple of weeks.

“I have photographic evidence of you in brightly colored sweatbands and yoga pants doing Jazzercise in order to work on your flexibility.” Bruce deadpanned with an eyebrow raised in amusement. “The Titans won’t be worried about Deathstroke if they’ve seen 13 year old you chanting along with an exercise video from the 1980’s.” Tim’s mouth dropped open in shock at the threat.

“You wouldn’t!” He shouted, wincing when he saw the seriousness in his mentor’s face. “You can’t,” he said softer this time, shrinking in his chair like a guilty child.

“I will, unless you go to bed and let me and Dick talk to you about how to deal with Deathstroke over breakfast tomorrow morning.” A slight grin, “it’s up to you but I have seen the costumes that your friends wear and I think they’d approve of your workout clothes.” Tim threw his hands in the air.

“I give, I’ll go upstairs, have a glass of milk, sing a song, do anything you want just please don’t show those pictures.” Bruce smiled and lightly, but forcefully helped his bird out of his chair and guided him to the stairs. “I can’t believe you’d stoop so low as threatening us with pictures. I’m going to have to dig up some dirt on you for next time.” Tim said through another yawn. “Also you know, brightly colored workout clothes was cool a few years ago.”

Bruce rolled his eyes as he patted Tim’s back, “whatever makes you sleep at night, champ.”

Bonus Cass:

“Cassandra, what are you doing in here all alone?” Bruce asks poking his head into his new daughter’s bedroom. She looked at him for a moment and he wondered if this was okay. He’d raised and trained three boys but girls were different altogether. She smiled though and beckoned him in.

“Don’t know where else to go,” she shrugged as she turned her head to continue staring out the window.

“The house is yours completely, you can go anywhere, do anything you wish.” He said stepping closer but still giving her space. He imagined after years of David Cain’s brutal abuse and behavior, she would like to keep others at arm’s length. She shrugged and, while he’s not the body language expert she is, he can sense the discomfort in it. He frowned, he didn’t expect her to feel at home right away but she was so quiet, so different from the boys that he didn’t know the best way to make her feel safe and wanted.

“Where are the others at?” He asked conversationally and was rewarded with another soft smile.

“Doing something foolish,” she said with an amused tone in her voice. He decided it was best he didn’t ask, he’d end up hearing about it later anyway when someone’s nursing a ridiculous injury at dinner. But there was a kinship in that amused affection at the other children’s antics that he recognized.

“You know, Dick has accidently taken a bite out of decorative fruit more times than I can count; he always makes this great face when he realizes it’s wax.” He says watching as Cass’s face remains neutral but her eyes light up. “Jay tried sneaking out his window one night and while crawling down the trellis, he got stuck and I had to get a ladder out at 2:30 in the morning to get him down.” She tapped her finger against her cheek in amusement.

“And Tim?”

“It would take more time than we have to go through all the odd and embarrassing things I’ve caught Tim doing,” he held out his hand. “But we might as well start now. Alfred’s got a couple of photo albums dedicated to kids in various ridiculous situations.”

“Sounds nice,” she said, giving him as broad a smile as he’s ever seen from her, putting her small but powerful hand in his own. “My brothers are silly.”

“That they are my dear, that they are.”


Okay, fam, I’m going to need about 40K fic of platonic soulmates (who occasionally make-out in non-serious and V. PLATONIC ways) roommates Toni and Jughead fic, STAT!

She gets locked out of her uncle’s house regularly and needs a couch to surf on, Jughead has that couch. So give me this…

housemates (trailermates?) jopaz

In which:

  1. The two of them spend long nights lounging on Jughead’s lumpy couch, exchanging sarcastic one-liners and watching bad reality shows, late night infomercials interspersed with classic Agatha Christie and Twilight Zone reruns on a surprisingly quality flat-screen TV they technically stole.
  2. They take turns on who does the cooking. When Jughead does it, it’s really slap-dash beans out of a can on toast with a hot dog (and a few hot dogs for the real Hot Dog) or an overcooked burger… basically, he ends up going to Pop’s and getting them the Duo Double Cheese Special (two double cheeseburgers, fries and some sodas). When Toni does it, she introduces Jughead to novel and revolutionary things like the concept of tasty vegetables and the importance of dietary fibre. Except, when Toni cooks everything tastes amazing - LIKE, restaurant level amazing. And Jughead’s not been to many fancy restaurants but he’s sure of this. Where did she get her skills? Right after her dad split, and her mom died, and she got stuck living with her uncle, her uncle’s girlfriend at the time was a chef at a local diner and she showed Toni everything she knew about a skillet. Jughead didn’t even know hot sauce and peas out of a can could do the things Toni makes it do. And jerk chicken? Toni makes the best jerk in Riverdale, he believes it. He wants to enter her chicken in contests but he’s too scared that other people will discover this treasure and STEAL IT FROM HIM! She also, weirdly, somehow, makes a gourmet grilled cheese that’s Jughead’s favourite. The two of them eat A LOT, it’s probably one of the cornerstones of their friendship.
  3. NOTE: Jughead is ALWAYS on dish duty because Toni hates that shit, and it’s only fair.
  4. Sometimes on nights when the both of them can’t sleep (more often than not for these two), they sit in the dark on Jughead’s trailer’s makeshift porch. Toni occasionally produces a blunt, or Jughead offers a root beer (or a real beer), that they share, while they ruminate on life, love and Riverdale’s latest lurid crime.
  5. On days, mostly weekends, where they’ve got to do a drug/petty theft/whatever run for the Serpents, they spend the mornings oiling  and tinkering on their bikes. Toni’s better at it than Jughead is, and she shows him how to fix his busted oil gauge, where to source mostly decent old tires for when the rubber on his wears thin, and all that good shit. 
  6. Toni’s also a faster and more skilled rider than he is, by far. She goes so fast sometimes, that she disappears on the long stretches of road in front of Jughead, and by the time he catches up, she’s idling by some tree, filing her nails, quirking her eyebrow to ask “What took you so long, Juggie?”
  7. Jughead shows Toni all his favourite places on the Northside. She didn’t have any reason to explore it before, and now she gets to see it through his eyes, and see that maybe it’s not all bad asshole territory. The old drive-in’s totally gutted, and it’s mostly covered in a half-completed paved car-park and dusty construction crap, but they spend some nights out there anyway, throwing rocks at signs, and racing their bikes in circles.
  8. Toni shows Jughead some of her photos, even the ones she’s never shown anyone, that she’s gathered in dusty albums as part of her portfolio.  She’s always dreamed of being one of those awesome travel photographers or maybe fashion or a hard-hitting journalista… anything that would allow her to get out and see the world. “It’s a dumb dream,” she says, with a wry twist of her mouth. “It’ll never happen, or whatever.” Jughead puts a hand on hers and says with confidence, like he’s never been more sure of anything in his life, “It will - I believe in you.”
  9. In turn, Jughead shares some of his stories with her. Short stories that he started writing when he was twelve, remnants of novels that he’s never finished, the Riverdale story he’s constantly writing now. The first time, he just shoved a sheaf of papers at her and ran away to his room, too scared to wait and see what her reaction to reading it would be. But then she gave it back to him, with a few notes in the margins, some really great feedback that helped Jug see where he could improve a couple of things, and a big smiley-crying face (:’DDDDD) with a few hilarious doodles at the end along with the words, You have a gift, don’t ever let anyone make you think different. Now he doesn’t get so shy.
  10. They work on articles for the RED AND BLACK together. The newspaper’s held together with nothing but sticky tape and a wad of gum, and the school doesn’t bother to give them any funds to produce it - but they both believe in it so much that they turn it into an online blog (which is much better for Toni who takes care of all the photography). Riverdale needs to hear the voices of the Southside, to know that the town might step all over them but they’re not worthless or dead. They can still speak out about the shitty reality of their town. It starts with only a few clicks, but when they break a Ghoulie trafficking ring story - there’s no going back. Their “little blog” starts giving the official town paper a run for its money.
  11. They share their war stories. Jughead tells Toni about the day his mother left with Jelly Bean. He tells her about what it was like growing up with his dad, and how he decided to run away and live homeless because he couldn’t take it anymore. About being the weird loner kid in high school whose only friends were good people but that he never could quite shake the feeling of being their charity case or something. The horrible feeling that he was a walking reminder that they might have terrible lives, but at least they weren’t having it as bad as Jughead and his shitty father and his absentee mother. Toni tells Jughead about the day her dad split - she can’t really remember it perfectly, she was five or whatever. She just remembers the sound of the door swinging on its hinges, the voices of her parents yelling at each other, and then her mom locking herself up in her room, crying. After her mom passed, she tried to find her dad. She even got an phone number, somewhere out in Tennessee or something. She hasn’t called it. She tells him about her uncle, who took her in with great reluctance. He wasn’t all bad, at least for the first few years. But then he lost a bunch of money (gambling addiction), and Toni got mixed up with the Serpents. She managed to keep him from getting his ass killed for not paying his debt, and he ends up locking her out of the house whenever the whim takes him because he blames her for all his shitty life choices. It’s whatever. She has a bed, and a roof over her head 1-2 days out of the week. Sweet Pea puts her up some nights, Fangs too, a couple of her on-offs as well. “That’s more than a lot of people can say, right?”
  12. Toni’s the first person Jughead tells that he thinks he might be demisexual and demiromantic or something. That he feels like maybe something’s wrong with him because he loves Betty but sometimes he’s not sure it’s in the way she wants him or needs him to love her. Toni never laughs at him or tells him he’s weird, she just listens and accepts, and he appreciates that.
  13. Jughead reluctantly co-hosts a party with Betty and Archie for the sole purpose of creating an opportunity for Toni to maybe, possibly, probably hit on Cheryl. And you know he must care for Toni a lot because Jughead + Parties is just NO. Anyway, Toni and Cheryl date for a while, and they’re really into each other even though they fight quite a bit. Jughead doesn’t think the weird curdling, burning feeling in the pit of his stomach is jealousy per se because him and Toni aren’t like that. But a tiny ugly part of him is relieved when Toni and Cheryl call it quits in the summer after senior year. “We’re just on different paths, y’know,” Toni says, her eyes are a little red, and Jughead cuddles with her for long hours and makes his infamous beans on toast. 
  14. She’s right though: Cheryl’s off to Paris for something or other. Toni and he are taking a roadtrip on their motorbikes all the way across the country, then down the West Coast and maybe even as far as they can get through Central America (hopefully). It’s not the “responsible” thing to do, but neither of them is sure they want to apply to college like Betty and Veronica, hell, Archie did. And they definitely couldn’t afford it, so an adventure seems like a good idea. Sweet Pea’s coming along for most of the US-leg but he has to come back to help with his family’s shop. Either way, it’ll be awesome, Toni taking photographs, Jughead writing – maybe they’ll both get their dreams after all!

I could go on. I really could.

But. Someone, please, make it happen. I might make it happen. I make no promises.

The Winter Soldiers - Part Eight

Summery: In 1993 Hydra put you under Cyro freeze and after twenty four years sleeping, your past companion Bucky Barnes aka the Winter Soldier finds you and brings you out into the real world but the both of you struggle with your past as Hydra’s Winter Soldiers. 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,334


Happy Readings!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Originally posted by luvinchris

*gif creds to owner*

“Come on Y/L/N you’re a goddamn winter soldier for crying out loud!” Bucky yelled as you struggled to finish what felt like the 1000 lap.

“Cut me some slack I just woke up from Cyro freeze,” you called back.

“You know what I did days after I woke up from Cyro? Killed entire families, no excuses!”

You laughed at his dark humor, or what you thought was humor, and continued to move your legs faster. He was right, you were a goddamn winter soldier, no excuses. Compared to a normal human your training was impressive but compared to Bucky or Steve you were seriously lacking the super soldier qualities.

“Come on Y/N, couple more laps and you’ll get a break.” You ran ten more laps before Bucky waved you over to where he was standing. “I want to say impressive but I would be lying.”

“Ouch,” you say breathless.

“If you want to be lied to and babied I’ll call in Steve to be the good guy but if you want to get to your full potential you’re stuck with me.”

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Leading Suspects - Chapter 11

Prepare for some shenanigans… And also, for convenience:

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10.

Enjoy, @peetabreadgirl!

“Read it back to me!” I declare as I lean heavily on the fridge door and shift aside a casserole to reach the bottle of pinot that is my target. As it turns out, Starla Summers is rather generous and should chair the grief and welcoming committees in this town, seeing as how her contribution to the Madge-is-Grieving-We-Must-Feed-Her fund was ten bottles of wine. Cheap wine, but I’m trying not to judge, seeing as how I am suspected of murder and immaculate conception.

“Hot buns of steel!” Madge shouts from the table as her forearms slide forward across the surface.

“Wrong list!” I protest and fall into my seat. I squint at the bottle trying to focus on removing the cork.

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Life comes without guarantees. Accept that smiling will brighten your face. Laughing will enhance your eyes. And Falling in love will change your life…


The One After Her: A Relationship in Pieces

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction 9

Featuring: Spencer x Female Reader        Setting: Season 11

A/N: Time jump! And I’m sorry, so so sorry. xoxo Stu

Pieces 1-8

One and a half months later

“Well, at least I don’t have to worry about make up this weekend.” You muttered, staring at your scarred face in the mirror. It wasn’t entirely scarred, discolored is the term the doctors used for the majority of the damaged areas. Yet you hadn’t recognized yourself since. You sighed and continued getting ready.

You had been back at work for two weeks, but it was still a struggle to stay focused. The work wasn’t the problem, you knew what the problem was. You just hated to admit it. Weakness was not something you had signed up for and that baby-faced creep had given you that too. You breathed, counted to three and started listing the titles of books in order to regain control of your mind.

After your top five series, you gave up and took a stroll to the break room. It was empty, so you grabbed a water and called Spencer.

“Y/N?” He sounded worried, he was always worried now. He had given that to Spencer along with everything he had given you.

“Hey, if you were a book series, which one would you be?” You asked trying not to let the tears quaver in your voice.

“Y/N are you alright?” Spencer whispered now, trying to protect your meltdown from his teammates.

“Yeah,” You sniffled. “Just curious, it’s the calming technique I’m using. Reciting titles in order to focus and get back to work. So I wanted to know what series defined you, my love, the astute Dr. Spencer Reid.” You didn’t mean to sound jaded, but couldn’t help it.

“Sweetie, do you need me to pick you up? I’m in the office today.” Spencer wasn’t buying your tough girl routine.

“Oh no, Spencer, it’s not like that. I just missed you and my mind wandered. I’ll see you at home.” You smiled to lighten your voice. “I’m fine, I swear.”

“Well, if you swear…” Spencer’s tease was the most soothing thing thus far. “Call me, anytime, I’ll be there.”

“I know, babe, I know.” You pecked into the phone. “Later ‘gator.”

“Bye Bye Butterfly.”

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anonymous asked:

I never experienced art theft until one of my works became unexpectedly popular- since then, I've found my work reposted, redrawn, and used as reference for cosplays. It's been exhausting, both seeing it, and not knowing WHERE I should stand on the issue. I've let redraws slide (with credit), but I plan on not allowing future ones from occurring. How do you deal with art theft? How do you continue drawing without thinking about the disrespect thrown at you during bad/failed confrontations?

I am so, so incredibly sorry this happened to you, and empathize very strongly with you. Art theft SUCKS, few things can be quite as demotivating as a creator than having something you’ve worked your ass off on swiped by someone else. And unfortunately, given the current internet culture, if you continue as an online artist it’s inevitable that it’ll happen at one point or another.

Because sure, of course part of the reason why we create is because we want to, but a large part of the motivation for sharing it is to hopefully get some response that people like it, whether it be in the form of likes, reblogs, comments, asks, tags, or anything else. That is the tangible PROOF that our work touched someone, and for someone who put in zero effort and has no idea how we felt while creating to receive all of that instead of us…sucks.

I think where you stand on the issue is up to you, and it’s okay for it to change. YOU always have the right to decide how you’re comfortable with people sharing your art, and your feelings are valid regardless of how they change.

Ironically enough, I just had another art theft on Instagram (my Anniversary post) super recently, so I was like HAH when I got this orz

This rant got a bit long, so the rest beneath cut but here’s a rundown about how my feelings towards art theft have evolved over the years.

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Boss date (T)

When Byun Baekhyun pressed ‘enter’ and his sugar baby account was created, he sort of expected the flow of comments that varied from 'hey beautiful’ to 'I want to come on your face’. What he didn’t expect was going on a sort of date with a guy that looked like an Adonis.
Or at least, that’s what his profile picture looked like.
And when they finally meet, he has the shock of his life: or better, the catfisher is catfished by his worst nightmare (in the form of his boss).

1 2 3

Pairing: Byun Baekhyun x Park Chanyeol

Word count: 4562

Notes: enjoy :)

Byun Baekhyun could tell you many things about himself and his job, the latter in particular. Most of the time (as in 99.9%) he would say without second thoughts or even guilt that he is positively sure he hates his work place. In more detail, everything that has to do with his 30 year old boss, who, in his humble opinion, doesn’t deserve the position he is currently (and very proudly, like an annoying peacock) holding.

And to his misfortune, almost everything has to do with him.

Personal assistant my ass. More like poorly payed slave in the 21 century.

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anonymous asked:

Hello I just saw a shout out of your account on another blog and thought I'd check you out. Your sooo good at writing!! I was wondering if requests were still open if you could do a new female recruit just came into overwatch who was captured and tortuedd by talon and is an excellent fighter but very quiet with bad depression but has a good heart with genji, soldier?? (I know this is long sorry)

Wah thank you so much! Don’t worry length doesn’t bother me! I got a pretty good idea on what I can do for you! I’m glad asking to get a promo was a good thing lol. I hope this is up to code :)


  • So it’s likely that when he first met you, it was on a battlefield. He admired that you were at least practically speaking… direct, a great combatant, and obedient to listen (never stray from the objective he hates that)
  • And PROFESSIONAL jfc he’s so tired of people that aren’t professional/focus in this hodgepodge special task force Overwatch has become THIS IS A JOB PEOPLE STOP PRETENDING IT’S AN ADVENTURE OR PLAYTIME
  • Being a stern and distant person himself he doesn’t really open up very well, and especially after the whole Recall thing, he hardly talks to anyone. Any of the people that knew him back in the Golden Age? He denies it. Doesn’t even bother talking to them. “Just call me Soldier. It’s what I am.”
  • There’s an immediate sense of kinship when you two meet off the battlefield though- you tend to treat people the same way. Distant, never want to mention what happened (the details are in your file and everyone knows but when they actually ask “did…did this really happen to you?” you don’t respond. Or you brush them off like “It’s in the file.”)
  • He read it, more like skimmed it and tucked it aside in the back of his mind because it’s something that’s your matter and since he’s not the leader anymore he really has no reason to know the full backstory of every person he works with. What matters to him is how you are now
  • And the thing is he sees you as loyal, as headstrong, as decisive and professional. Good enough qualities to him, really.
  • But he does start to notice that there are times you’re not 100%. That there’s times you’re not only distant from everyone around you and barely talk to anyone, but you make sure you’re isolated by staying in your room
  • And while given everything he’s gone through on his own he tends to keep up the private life, it’s concerning when you opt out of attending the cake cutting of someone’s birthday party. So he goes to your room, figuring you would be there, and knocks on the door. He passes it off as something of a professional failing, like “Come on out. At least show up for the cake cutting before ditching your comrade’s party.”
  • Of course you immediately apologize but he shakes his head. “You don’t have to tell anyone what happened to you. Just remember what junk you’ve got here *points to chest* does not affect here *points to head*.”
  • At his comment you feel a little flustered, that he would have to take time out of his day to just tell you to attend someone’s birthday party all because you weren’t feeling completely up for it. But as you walk back he gives you a little push forward from behind (his hand was on your back, as if urging you), and from the stern but caring touch you come to understand he meant well. And that at least in his own wordless way, he understood how you felt. It’s even better that when you’re at the party, everyone stops asking you those invasive questions (even if they meant well- they just wanted to make sure you were okay).
  • From that point on, you tried to do something nice for him every now and again like bringing him coffee (you noticed he only put cream in, he hated sugar), and eventually you got to talking. He never went into the past to urge you or pry, and you never went into his. It was just a mutual understanding that the events that shaped you both were simply that, and that there was no use in dwelling on them any longer. And eventually, it got easier and easier to take his advice to heart.


  • He doesn’t personally ask you anything when he first meets you at a briefing
  • He eyes you, because you’re someone he doesn’t recognize from before, and you eye him because of his appearance and mannerisms feeling eerily different from the other people gathered around you
  • When you talk you’re curt and professional, but it’s clear you don’t want conversation to continue any longer than it does. But for some reason, he’s oddly receptive and respectful of it (at least in comparison to happy people like Tracer, who tend to…keep…talking. No matter what)
  • Now the thing is, his room was close to yours, and he has excellent hearing. And what happens is that you were in the cafeteria eating, and everyone around you was doing something normal and innocuous but then it happens
  • It’s a smell, or a sight, or the way someone touches someone else, but you feel it in your bones. You lock up, your breath completely freezes in your throat, and it feels like you’re choking on the very thoughts and memories that flood into you at once
  • He was sitting at a nearby table and looked up when he heard you drop your tray and shut your eyes, holding your head. You were being reminded of that awful torture, the devices that had been used on you and you wanted to cry and scream and yell but you managed to bottle it up. All that trauma though overwhelms you, and you lose your balance. He catches you, and he asks if you’re alright and you fumble out a clumsy “I’m fine” before scrambling to your feet and hastily cleaning up your mess, apologizing to everyone and practically sprinting to your quarters
  • It didn’t help that for several nights in a row leading up to that incident in the cafeteria he could hear you waking up from nightmares. Screaming. Panting. Sweating. Sometimes crying. After what has just happened however, Genji follows after you and knocks on your door
  • “Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?” You don’t want to be rude and shoo him off, so you let him walk into your room. He can tell you’ve been crying. “Forgive me for being intrusive. I do not wish to cause you more harm than what has already happened, but have you spoken to anyone? Truly of what happened to you?”
  • You look at him a little irritated. I mean, of course you have. You had to speak to medical professionals and detail what had happened to you after you were rescued. And all of that got recorded onto stupid files and who knows how many people on the base know about what happened. Of course there’s practical reasons for why but your pain feels public, feels known, and it still feels shameful.
  • “I do not mean for record-keeping sake,” he bows respectfully to further demonstrate his honest intentions. He uses what happened to him as an example, telling you that the great anger he felt about everything was only ever resolved because he sought guidance and spoke about his emotions.
  • “If you do not wish to speak to me about it, I am more than willing to offer a suggestion for someone that will not judge you for your experiences”
  • It’s at his genuine desire to want to help you, and the inkling in your mind that he seems to have gone through his own version of a personal hell, you try explaining what happened in your own terms. You talk about how helpless you felt. You talk about the dreams you have and why they frighten you so much. You’re rather shocked at how easy it is to just throw all your words out at him because, unlike everyone else you’ve ever encountered and especially the officers that documented your history, he never speaks or interjects your story, or asks if you if you were crazy or drugged or had your judgement impaired. He truly never judges you.

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ishqbaaz 04.10.17 lb
  • wow, mishra still has a job. i thought khanna had taken over all of those duties. 
  • his face as she bitches about him.
  • dadi’s a terrible actor. truly terrible. 
  • “billu ke tante”
    • honestly, they should just change the name of the show to this.
  • i am mesmerized by all the faces he’s making. a work of art. 
  • snorttttttttttttt. son, give uppp. absolutely no one here is convinced you’re talking to mishra. 
  • “it’s not fair on ME shivaay. shivaay.” 
    • what a fucking idiot. 
  • “hazaar nahi hai, shivaay is a rare name ok!!!!!!”
  • this idiot’s commitment to his plan lasted a whole hour. like, what a weakass loser. 
  • “inki PATELI mein aa gayi main.” 
    • anika’s on fire with her new vocabulary today. 
  • snort. bitching about the ring. 
      • hehehehehehehe 69 😏😏😏😏
  • “iska toh time up ho gaya.” 
  • oh my heart why is she so beautiful and adorable and ughhhhhhhhhh she’s ruining my life shivaay how the fuck could you do this to her?!!? if she was my wife i wouldn’t let her leave my siiiiiiiiight. 
  • lmaooooo she’s trading it for a dinner settttttttttttt
  • “jab dene waale ko emotion ki padi nahi hai, toh main kya emotion ka achchaar daaloongi?” 
    • preach!!!!! 
  • LOL DADI IS SUCH TRAITOR. zero value for khoon and khaandaan. 
  • his teeth clenching rage tho. 
  • omgggggggggg, he just legit climbed over the table. billu fucking hell, you’re the worsttttt at this.
  • “aapko bada pata hai iske baare mein.” 
    • shit’s getting serious. 
  • aaaaaaaaaaaaaand KNOCK OUT. straight to the fucking heart. 
  • fake wife who looks like the real wife is here. 
  • ugh om, how can you be so good at one relationship and so fucking crap at another???? can’t you just be shit at everything so i can haaaate you??
  • also, ouff, what even is your face. *kisses the screen* 
  • he hasn’t said a sherrrrr for a really long time though. 
  • ok i’m crying at the sher. fuck you ommmmmmmmmm. i’m trying to haaate you here! 

“can i get a hug??”

  • lol these two always have the most emotional hugs when rudra isn’t here. guess his position in the bromance is really clear now. 
  • yeahhhhh, sureeeee, bada aaya share karne waala. 
  • billu’s fooling absolutely NO ONE with his bs. like… golden kela for your efforts, son. 
  • even though this is all for a purpose, i’m glad om is at least talking about his relationship and problems. 

“bitch, you are in soooooooooooooooo much trouble.”

[inside billu’s head]:

  • god anika, such pissssss poooooor hiding job.
  • is anika in some kinda danger from tanya/tanya’s boss? like he seemed more spooked by the fact that tanya is also here, rather than just anika snooping. 
  • “tu kya kar raha hai, aur kyun kar raha hai, yeh sirf tu jaanta hai.” 
    • the tagline to the show “billu ke tante” 
  • “… teri wajah se, kisi ka dil toot raha hai.” 
    • ok, weeping like a bitch baby rn. the aniKara brotp is steadily climbing to be up there for me with shivRi. 
    • also lord, i can’t help but think of @nawaazishein‘s latest text post meme where it was like “is a wreck, gives others lifestyle advice.” OM THE FUCK YOU EVEN DOING WITH YOUR DAMN LIFE???? 
  • ok tanya’s dead eyed stare is creeping me out. she looks like if someone stole jankee’s soul and made her into a zombie. 
  • lol the oberois are suchhhhhh a big corporation and they still maintain PAPER records of accounts???? why do you not have a software that generates reports with the click of a button???? 
  • loving tej’s jazzzzzzy pink and blue files. 
  • tej’s gotten a creepyyyy invite to the mills tooooo. 
  • oh hoooooo, saare ke saaare buddhe mile hue hai. 
  • abhay’s making his shark waale moves on chashmish. 
  • “kyunki woh mera bhai hai. aur main apne bhaiyyon ke liye kuch bhi kar sakta hoon.” 
    • ok he’s deffffffffffinitely shivaay’s chota bhai. or something. 
  • oh shakti ji, you’ll need all the divine providence you can get.
  • yup. he’s gotten his fun little invite too! it’s a paaaaaaaaaarty! 
  • no srsly, this chotu shark singh oberoi is way better at business than the original and i really want him to take everything over already. he’s so well prepared and has all the paperwork all ready and shiz! 
  • lmao i knewwwwwww he’d fuck chashmish over in some way. after that exploding house stunt, i’d come to expect it. 
  • ooooh he kinda looks like my rare white-boy crush, jake gyllenhaal. *love for abhay intensifies*
  • ooooooooooooh, is it a clue, that he spray painted an S??? is abhay an alias? does his real name start with S??? 
    • shankar? to keep with the lord shiva theme? 
  • murder party’s getting staaaaaaaaaaaaaarted at the millllllls! 
  • god bless your faaaaaaaace. 
  • yeh shaayari bhi karta hai. my god, is he some kinda genetic hybrid/chimera of the three oBros? 
    • i mean rudra has no redeeming quality other than muscle tone, so… i guess that’s his contribution to the perfection that is abhay? 
  • i love how he calls om “ghalib” 
  • “tabaahi” seems to be abhay’s favourite word, and tbh i’m a little concerned. 
    • my favourite word is “snack”. because i love snacks. 
    • also, i didn’t even notice rudra was missing. i was just… relieved that he was leaving bhavya the fuck alone. 
  • each one of these 4 be thinking ‘it’s bad enough having to see these people in my own home, where i live, but to meet them outside too? ugh.’ 
  • is this kalyani mills raaz related to shivaay’s thing, or is that a whooooole different thing? ALSO ARE EITHER OF THESE THINGS RELATED TO THE WHOLE RAAZ DADI DIDN’T WANT ANIKA TO DISCOVER???? THERE’S TOO MANY FUCKING RAAZS HERE AND I’M CONFUSED. 
  • jhanvi’s defense of tej has me rolling my eyes but i am loving shakti’s defense of pinky. i just like supportive husbands ok??!??!
  • ok whaaaaaaaat did you awful fuckers doooooooooo??? 
  • OMG GAURIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII *jumps into screen and smothers my girl with hugs and kisses* 
  • oh she was in bareilly to look after MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
  • jab jaate waqt nahi bataaya, toh aate waqt kyun bataa rahi ho??? 
  • typical desi husband/dad waala phone picking up: “hmmm?”
  • tumhaare “jhaanse” mein nahi phasne waala. omfg. die omkara. no really, just…. die. for a little bit. till i can stop being so mad. 
  • omg just taaaaaaaaaaaake the mithai bhavya. it’s fesitval season too. like… what even is dusshera/diwali without eating your own weight in kaaju katlis??? 
  • anti corruption???? rishwat??? this better not be some new shit rudra has put in her life. i wouldn’t put it past him to pull such crap. 
  • lmao why the fuck would she keep proof of her taking bribes in the files of her office?!!?!?!?
  • oh shit the mithaiiiii box is gonna have money.
  • ok literally who cares about this issue about bhavya??? there’s so many other plots that need resolving???? 
    • also, is this a sultan thing or…..???? 
  • mill incident happened 25 years ago. meaning shivaay was about 8, and om about 2 or 3. rudra and prinku were non existent. 
    • oh man, what a glorious-sounding time. take me back to then, so i can live in a world where there’s no rudra or prinku!!!!!!!!! 
  • interesting use of the word “tabaaahi”, pinky! hmmmmmm, who’s been using that word a lot lately???? 
  • ugh it’s just gonna be something lame like they set the mills on fire for insurance money coz they were in financial trouble or some shit. 
    • is this the same incident that tia’s dad was implicated in? i need to go back and investigate. 
  • kamaaal hai gauri, you told this punkass english teacher where you were going but no one in the house???? like, you could have just told dadi/jhanvi if you didn’t wanna bother shivika about it. 
  • ugh arjun no one wants your fucking love advice, you shady-hotel-visiting weirdo. 
  • while shivaay has the wholesome power of detecting wife’s presence, this creep has the superpower of super hearing. that he’s using to eavesdrop on his wife. 
    • gosh and he looks so creepy, like a fucking serial killer. jesus how can one man look so entirely different in two scenes???
    • siiiiiiiiiiiiigh. as usual, yet another woman’s hasta-khelta, mostly perfect life has been ruined to the power of tiffany after coming in contact with the oberois. 
      • thank god sumo, mallika and tia got out when they could. 
      • i hope wherever she is, ragini is thanking her lucky stars. and that she’s married vikram. 
    • at least officer dad believes her. 
    • YIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKES THIS CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. i genuinely got scared and screamed a little. 
    • ugh this hug is giving me michmichiiiii. get your filthyyyyy paws off my girl! 
      • but also, him struggling with both rage and having missed her and wanting to genuinely hug her. *sighhhhhh* oh omki. why are you so fuckeddd uppppp?????????????
    • ugh this fakeassssssssss bitchhhhhh i hate him sooooo much my godddddddd.
    • oh shit, don’t want your surpriseeeee. don’t wantttt. 

    • shivaay just can’t keep away from this “random strange woman who’s calling herself his wife”. 
    • oh god i’m fucking crying at her breakdown already, how am i going to watch it tomorrow???? 
    • ok, thank god he gave up the act and hugged her back. 

    anonymous asked:

    In your opinion, why is Ran THE girl for Shinichi? I apologize if you have already answered this question before

    Oh, dear Anon, are you sure you’re ready for this? 

    There are so many reasons why Ran is THE girl, as you so adequately put it, for Shinichi, that we’d finish way before if you asked me why she wasn’t. But, here’s the gist of it: 

    She’s pretty much the only one who totally and wholeheartedly understands him. I’ve mentioned this a bunch of times, but it’s pretty clear to me in the file of how they met (Ran GIRL and Shinichi BOY) that Shinichi was probably bullied/had little to no friends until he met Ran. Yukiko says they’re going to a new preschool, and Shinichi doesn’t know anyone or show signs of having met other kids or having made friends previous to that moment, so I’m guessing his first friendships weren’t all that friendly. Hell, the moment he enters the preschool the first thing he wants to do is look for the library, where he can be alone. Except that all changes when he meets Ran: how much you want to bet the reason he was so adamant on helping her against the bullies is because he knew firsthand what that bullying felt like? And how much you wanna bet that she’s the one that helps him make friends later on in Elementary and Middle School? That she’s the one that is constantly encouraging him to open up and not be scared to meet others and establish relationships even though he pretends to act like he’s too cool for all of that? (He’s not, he’s just shy and a little bit scared, and she knows that).

    And when they meet, they barely know each other but already she’s telling him not to act so pretentious and show-offy. Already she’s showing him she won’t back down, she won’t be so easily impressed. He’s going to have to work for it. And yet, she’s already showing him so much kindness –so much of the kind he’s probably never been shown before– with that precious smile and that nametag she makes him, and already she understands him perfectly. She sees through him just like he sees through her. 

    And this is the case time and time again. People often mischaracterize (in canon too) Shinichi, or misunderstand his actions, but Ran is always the first one to correct them, to see the truth behind his actions and words. She knows him better than anyone else, sure: she knows what he likes and dislikes, and his habits, and everything that’s happened to him. She even knows his blood type. But it goes beyond all of that. She understands him. She can see when he’s bluffing, or lying. She can tell immediately when something is wrong even if he pretends like everything’s fine. She understands the motives behind his actions and what fuels his movements. She gets him. And for Shinichi, who has trouble expressing his feelings and what he thinks, he needs someone who will understand regardless. And Ran does that. 

    She understands him, and perhaps more importantly, she accepts him. Shinichi is weird and easily self-centered and a Holmes freak and likes being around danger too much for his own good. The reason why he probably had trouble making friends was because he loves reading and mysteries so much. But Ran accepts all of that –the good parts (his courage, his good looks, how reliable he is) but also his bad ones. And, most importantly, she not only accepts all of those flaws, but loves them as well. She isn’t just amazed at his good qualities, she sees the flaws and loves him regardless. Even more so, if possible, because of them. 

    I mean, for crying out loud, every time they go out she’s surrounded by cases and/or in danger, and she still wants to stick around and will still give her life for him. If that doesn’t tell you how much she’s the one, I don’t know what will. 

    Not to mention that she compliments him perfectly. For someone who is often so arrogant and pretentious, Ran is the kind of person he needs –the kind of person who will snap him out of his dream-like state of “I’m legitimately the boss” and will make him focus on what’s real and true and serious. And yet, she’s soft and sweet and gentle and patient and understanding. She’s someone who will kick his ass, but also hold him until he feels better. And lord knows, after all the pain he’s been through, he’s going to need that reassurance and that comfort. 

    She can predict his movements and act accordingly with such ease, that sometimes they barely even need words to communicate. The beauty with them is that they’re pretty much the embodiment of that “show, don’t tell!” writers are so in love with. Their actions speak so much louder than their words –for so many reasons, but especially because of the situation they’re put in– that they don’t need any of that externalization of feelings to understand how the other one feels. They show and they show and they show –and sometimes they tell, too (coughcough London)–, but it doesn’t matter either way. They’re separated –okay, kinda– and still they manage to maintain that bond, that strength, because they trust each other and know each other and understand each other like very few do. 

    And not only that, but Shinichi is the kind of person who is always doubting and suspicious of other people. He’s not someone who trusts easily, and whose trust is often betrayed. He can’t, in general, have nice things. Except Ran. Ran is the one constant in his life, the one person who’s stuck with him through thick and thin –the one person who was with him when his parents left (even though he was fine, totally fine), when he doubted himself, when he was wrong in his first deductions and when he absolutely nailed his first ever case. She’s been through everything with him –they’ve been through it together– and he knows, whatever happens, he can trust her and believe in her and confide in her. And he needs that constant so that he doesn’t go mad amidst everything he’s going through. 

    You wanna know the real reason Ran is THE girl for Shinichi, Anon?

    She keeps him sane. And because of it, she keeps him alive. 

    And there is nothing more worthy or important than that. 

    Pompeii 13

    Kankuro made a full recovery, but Sakura’s hand would take a little longer to heal and get the feeling back in it. Gaara had held her hand all through the night in anxious worry, holding it even after she fell asleep in a chair by Kankuro’s bed.

    When she woke in the morning, it was a few hours before dawn. Gaara’s brother was already stirring and she could see the signs of recovery. He’d be a bit groggy for the next day or so, she told Gaara, but it would be no worse than what happens during and after a cold. He would be right as rain in time for Founder’s Day.

    “Thank you for mixing the Holy Water.”

    Sakura frowned, thinking that an oddly specific thing for him to thank her for. “It was no problem.”

    Gaara nodded, looking down with a soft blush across his cheeks. “It’s not easy to find someone who is brave or willing enough to handle both Holy Water and Dragon’s Bane. Even Chiyo is weary and he handles both more than anyone.” He paused to swallow before glancing up into her eyes again. “Most of our kind, most people in Pompeii are deadly fearful of one or the other, but you handled both without flinching. We haven’t even known you that long.”

    “Gaara,” Sakura nearly laughed, smiling softly at the boy who was looking more and more like a frightened child. She drew him close and stood on her tiptoes to draw him into a hug where his face buried in her neck. She pat down the back of his head, combing through his hair with her short nails in small circles. She felt him shudder in her arms and deflate a bit. He must be exhausted.

    Sakura was still in the sweats from yesterday and she didn’t doubt she had smelled better, but Gaara didn’t seem to mind as he all but melted into her arms. She remembered what he had said to her the first time they met. A sandman who can’t sleep. She didn’t know how he could still function, but she knew that no matter what he was, sleep was good for his soul. Gaara needed rest just as much as his brother.

    Sakura rocked on her feet, softly back and forth, nearly unnoticeable. She hummed into the side of his head and traced circles into his back. When he went boneless she caught him with one arm around his back and the other slipping under his legs.

    One of the things she remembered being teased about the most in med school was her stupid strength. A critique of nurses and female med students in the program was their lack of upper body strength. The sexist male interns made it a point to help their chances of being hired over their female competitors. Sakura never let that become an issue for her.

    Gaara wasn’t heavy as she carried him to the far wall where a second, pop out cot waited. She rolled it out using her foot and pulled it close to Kankuro. Sakura set Gaara down on his side and he instantly curled up like a child, fingers still caught in her lab coat. Sakura slid it off and laid it over his body like a blanket.

    The sand on the floor stirred when she began to step away, but Sakura went right back to Kankuro’s side and checked his vitals once more. She glanced down at the sand, sensing it’s agitation.

    “I won’t let anything happen to either of them.”

    The sand settled and Sakura breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed like both boys would be able to recover this way.

    Sakura brought her laptop into the room and booted it, prepared to update a couple of files and do some searching on dragon’s bane and Holy Water.

    Sakura didn’t have a lot of date digitalized, so she wasn’t expecting much, but a handful of files popped up with the search words highlighted. Kakuzu was one of them, having listed Holy Water as one of his ‘allergies.’ There were several she recognized and several she didn’t.

    Doing some detective work, Sakura extrapolated a pattern in the patients who needed Dragon’sbane as a medication and used that knowledge to pull hard files and update the database. It was slow work that would take days, but it was easy and fast and Sakura felt herself learning as she muddled through the files. Everything she read made her a better doctor. Everything she studied made her more helpful to the people in her new home.

    She read and worked until the sun was up and Kankuro stirred.

    Keep reading

    anonymous asked:

    Mulder and Scully! (:

    Who was the one to propose:

    Even though there isn’t really any need for them to get married, they’d discussed it at length. Through all their hardship and losses, Mulder thought it would be a nice thing for not only both of them, but for especially for Scully. Just to make their relationship even more binding. So Mulder took them to their favourite spot where they watch the stars, and he slid the ring on her finger whilst she was occupied with looking at the sky. No words were exchanged, just gazing, tears and smiles. And some kissing of course.

    Who stressed more over the wedding planning: 

    Neither of them. They decided they’d have a small affair in their backyard, just inviting close friends and family. That being Scully’s family, Skinner, Doggett and Reyes. 

    Who decorated the house: 

    Mainly Mulder with the new found time he had on his hands after he left the Bureau. Although, that doesn’t mean he is good at it. Scully never fails to remember his living situation, when he didn’t even have a bedroom in the first few years she knew him. But he’s read up on all his DIY books, and surprised Scully on more than one occasion with his decorating skills. Even recreating their basement office in one of the rooms, serving as a reminder of all their time spent together helping people and their search for the truth. They both had equal amount of say on interior design of the house, taking qualities from both their old apartments that they both loved, for memories sake. To make it their home. 

    Who does the cooking: 

    Mainly Scully, as again she is reminded of Mulder’s previous living situation. Where he’d have literally nothing in the fridge apart from out of date cartons of orange juice or old take out. But that doesn’t mean to say Mulder doesn’t cook, he usually does breakfast and if Scully is working late, he’ll attempt to make something or just order take out. He feels bad otherwise that Scully is cooking for him when she’s been on her feet all day. And he doesn’t think it’s fair that Scully should do things for him, so he always goes out of his way to do more laundry/cleaning around the house whenever she cooks. 

    Who is more organized: 

    Scully. Whenever Mulder goes out on a jog, she takes the time to quickly tidy up his office, so he can actually work and find stuff. She knows he’ll never do it, he says he’ll get round to it but all his manuscripts, articles and X Files pile up after a few days. This always gives Mulder a smile on his face when he walks into the office after his jog, knowing that without Scully he’d probably be a mess. 

    Who suggested kids first:

    After William, they’d never really mentioned it. Father’s, Mother’s and his birthday are always the toughest days, and are often the days that they would bring it up. They’ve often thought about trying again, seeing as they’d had one miracle. But they often dissuaded themselves for putting another child in danger if anything were to happen again. 

    Who’s the cuddler:

    Both of them. Whether they’re sitting, standing or in close proximity to each other, they always end up holding each other. There’s been too many times when they’ve nearly lost the other, they never want to let go and let it happen again. 

    Who’s the big spoon/little spoon: 

    Their astounding height difference pretty much speaks for itself. (exhibit a

    What’s their favourite non-sexual activity: 

    Since Scully is at work until pretty late at night, they like to have date nights at home. Which means Mulder takes the day to make the house even more homely and warm, making dinner and venturing out to buy some more of Scully’s favourite wine. Then they usually sit by the fire on the floor, eating dinner and listening to their favourite records. Even though neither of them can really dance, they slow dance to whatever record they’re listening to. Piano Man (x) is one of their favourite songs to dance to.

    Who comes home drunk at 3 am: Mulder, usually. Only because if Scully’s on the night shift, he get’s bored at home so he goes out to the bar to get out of the house. More often than not he overdoes it. Scully always waits up for him when she gets home and he’s not there, though.

    Who kills the spiders: Scully. Mulder can’t betray his cool exterior and his hatred for bugs. When a girly scream fills the house, Scully knows that he’s found a spider and doesn’t know what to do with it. 

    Who falls asleep first: Scully. They both go to bed together, but Mulder stays up watching documentaries on Nat Geo on a low volume so Scully can sleep. He still suffers from his insomnia, but it’s gotten better now he shares a bed with Scully. Although, when he does eventually go to sleep, he still suffers from night terrors of Samantha. He rarely wakes up from them, but his crying, whimpering and fidgeting wakes Scully up so she holds him and strokes his hair until he calms down. When he does wake up from them, it involves him screaming out Samantha’s name and Scully has to calm him down and remind him where he is.

    A head canon: Since Mulder isn’t in the Bureau anymore, his first birthday after they left Scully did this to his car (x). Which she thought was hilarious at the time, but fully regrets now. Because every weekend, Mulder gets Scully to pick a UFO sighting to check out, and they travel cross country in search for aliens. Just like old times. 

    Their relationship summed up in a gif: 

    Do they have any “rituals”?

    If Mulder has gone out running for too long or has played a tense game of basketball/baseball, his leg starts to ache and gets painful from when he got shot on the Boggs case. So whenever this happens, Scully has the task of trying to carry him upstairs to their bedroom so he can stretch his leg out, which always ends up with them both in hysterics. 

    Who has the most patience? 

    Scully. I mean, who else is going to put up with Mulder’s shenanigans? 

    More To 1 Side Of Her

    Title: More To 1 Side Of Her
    Character(s) Featured: Wade Wilson (Deadpool), Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson
    Pairing: Deadpool x Reader
    Words: 3,161
    Genre: Romance/Comedy
    Rating: M (Mature 16+)
    Author’s Note(s): Hello, hello, hello my poppets! Welcome back to another Fiction Request after so long. Again, for the many who come to read my stories, I would like to take this moment to say thank you. I feel truly honored and flattered that you are all entertained by my stories and/or ships. I cherish it with all my furry heart. Mew! Okay, we have received a request from an Anonymous admirer. It says: Can you do another deadpool x reader where reader is really nice and sweet around him and the avengers but when her friends come around she’s an insane, badass chick and deadpool is in awe?? (Btw love your blog) I’m really glad you love it, Anon! Please stop again to tell me your thoughts on the story. Hope you enjoy the story, everyone!
    Summary: Hey there, kids! It’s your buddy Deadpool here. You know, that sexy ass mercenary who’s in that fucking awesome movie that kicked X-Men straight in their bell grandes before fondling a few of them with kindness. You know who you are…Wolverine. Did you know that’s the only place that’s smoother than baby’s bottom? Clean as a whistle… Anyway, there’s this special girl that makes me wanna unsheath my katana in front of her and shish her kebob if you know what I mean. Your silence worries me. She’s a sweetheart and I mean, sickeningly sweet. Like extreme-obese-kid-hiding-in-the-corner-eating-300-twinkies-while-having-a-diabetic-stroke sweet. Oh yeah, I’m hooked. Apparently, a bunch of her girlfriends, or her lesbian lovers as I always tell myself when I play with Mr. Winky, are coming for a visit and a whole new side of her is coming with them. Haha, coming—Ah, innuendos!

    “Oh my God, Wade! What did you did to yourself?!” You exclaimed when you exited your bedroom and found Deadpool as he hobbled out of the elevator. He lifted his head slowly, the white from his lens were dull from being dragged across a rough surface. “What? This? It’s not that bad,” He managed to wince, “You should see the other guy. He just ran like he ate a really spicy chalupa, and they were divorcing him and taking the kids with them. He didn’t even buy me dinner, the fucker.” Wade hopped towards you, almost falling from tripping on his lifeless left leg. You caught him in the nick of time, groaning as all of his weight fell in your petite arms. “Come on, I’ll let you rest in my room and maybe check out those wounds,” You told him, sympathetically. “Nooo… I don’t wanna ruin your sheets by making them look like a virgin had sex and her period at the same time…”
    After several minutes of arguing, and having to literally drag the grown man, you both made it to your room and onto your large full size bed. “I need to take off your suit”, You stated as you hovered over the collapsed mercenary. He gasped in a shock, “But y/n, we barely know each other. You haven’t even asked my father for my hand.” His hands moved up his chest to cover his pecs. You couldn’t help but smile as you rolled your e/c amused filled eyes.
    You started working with the Avengers a few short months now and as the director warned you, it’s been definitely far from an ordinary day at the office. You weren’t a full fledged agent yet, given that your test results were not yet evaluated so you were given remedial assignments. Frankly, they were mainly writing reports, filing them, and repeat. You would take your time however, reading each of their retelling of the events that occurred and imagined how it would be working alongside them. Though they’ve often disagreed with the idea of putting you on the field. “Listen, I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, I just think that we should have her positioned elsewhere. Like behind a wall. Three continents away,” Tony suggested to the team, in one of the meetings the Avengers Initiative have on a daily basis. Steve pondered for moment, concerned for your safety if you were allowed to be part of group, “I have to agree with Stark on this, gang. As much as y/n or Fury might believe she’s ready for the field, she’s too darn fragile for the monsters we have to face everyday.”
    “I’m all for having another woman around but I’m going with you guys. She’s so innocent, I don’t even think she’s ever insulted anyone let alone harmed them,” Natasha joined in, a strict frown upon her fair skinned face. Clint nodded, a smirk creeping on his lips, and his arms crossed as his body leaned against the black leather chair, “And who would make her famous cookies?! We’re talking about high quality, just-like-mother-used-to-make kind. Who has time to make mouthwatering sweets anymore?”
    “I must agree with the archer. Her tempting scrumptious of confectionary goodness is most heavenly,” Thor chimed in. Bruce seemed to be the only level headed of the bunch, “We don’t know what she’s capable of. Perhaps there’s more to her than meets the eye.” *Oh, he also said the title just there! You had one job, Banner! Hello there, Deadpool again. Just wanted to remind you that this isn’t about them. This is a love story. With me. Not them. Me. Just wanted you to remember that.*
    “You do know I have wicked regenerative powers, right? Have you read any of my comics?” Wade asked rhetorically as he watched you through his red and black mask. Your pink lips curled into a grin, looking back up at him from cleaning his right bloodied shoulder, “It doesn’t cover blood stained flesh, Wilson.” You managed to wipe off his entire torso, but you were concerned what was the damage behind that mask. When your slender fingers cautiously reached for it, all nonsense left Wade. He grabbed your hands gingerly, his eyes held on to your gaze, “Don’t.”
    “Wade…” There was a wave of dysphoria that washed over him. You never saw him like this before. You have read the majority of the files of each Avenger however, Deadpool’s file was so large, it would’ve taken a decade just to get through the beginning of his mercenary career so you didn’t know the full extent of his scars. You held your breath, softly smiling as to assure him you won’t overreact. Frankly, you didn’t know how you’d react once that piece of fabric between them was gone. He sat there, frozen while your fingers found the velcro in the back. Slowly, you pried it open, the loud sound of it ripping apart was amplified by the silence in your bedroom. You finally reached the end of the leather spandex mask, and removed it from his head. Wade’s brown eyes glistened, slightly watery at the brink of spilling a tear. There was a hint of a strong odor, closely resembling sweat however, you weren’t going to mentioned that to the killing machine of a mercenary. His skin appeared aged, wrinkled, and several spots of flesh have rotted off. It was the final stages of an advanced cancer you’ve only read about. Your e/c eyes were glued to his appearance. He wasn’t hideous, you concluded. In fact, he didn’t lose all of his handsomeness. Well, he lost most of it, that’s a fact but there was a tragic beauty that was trapped behind his eyes that you didn’t have the heart to look away. “…You kinda look like a human prune,” You thought outloud. Wade was stunned. You didn’t scream, you didn’t cry in horror, you didn’t even try to beat him with a stick to see if the ugly came out. You used good ol’ fashioned dry humor. “Or maybe like a white Al Roker who lost too much weight, and then laid in the sun to shrivel up like beef jerky,” You added, tilting your head to one side as you continued to stare at his face. “ A white Al Roker… That’s-that’s a new one. An elderly man’s scrotum, a pornstar’s sagging vagina, but a white, wrinkled - Okay, I’m gonna go,” He replied, unsure what to make of this whole situation, until you grabbed his forearm, “Deadpool, what I mean to say is: you’re okay. I don’t mind how you look. I like you. Just the way you are.” With a soft smile and a gentle peck on the cheek, you walked out of your room leaving an extremely confused assassin who was ready to shoot himself in the head because his brain started to hurt from thinking. “I resent that last statement! It’s not hurting. Just slightly hitting itself against my fucked up skull. And I do think! I know my alphabet and everything! K-I-L-L-I-N-G, next time won’t you sing with me?…”

    Several days had passed since that fateful afternoon and you continued to be your regular cheerful self, doing your best to assist the Avengers in whatever they need. Though they were already beginning to become quite fond of you, you cemented their affections by making a complete feast of a breakfast one morning. “Damn y/n, if you keep feeding us like this, I’m gonna need another hole on my belt,” Clint smirked, eyeing the large stack of Belgium waffles behind his dark tinted sunglasses. “This is too much, l/n. You didn’t have to go out of your way,” Steve said to you, his bright blue eyes shining in gratitude. You smiled widely, a light blush growing on the apples of your cheeks. “It’s really no trouble at all. It’s the least I can do for all you’ve done for me— Oh Vision, I’m safe to assume you don’t have a stomach so I got you these books on sociology, human civilization, and popular culture magazines instead. You know, for fun,” You handed them to the Vision in which he accepted them graciously. “Thank you, agent l/n. I will read them at my leisure,” He softly smiled, his blue computerized lenses briefly scanned each cover. You turned back to Rogers, “Well actually, I was wondering if I can ask for the day off tomorrow?” You fiddled with your fingers as you asked, averting his gaze. Despite being a great guy, and an incredible leader, Captain America was still quite intimidating. “I don’t see why not. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the occasion ?”
    “Does our little girl have a date with a possible degenerate who isn’t good enough for our baby?” Tony teased, before popping a piece of bacon in his mouth. Almost immediately, Deadpool popped his head from the hallway in order to hear your response clearly. Your cheeks flushed even more, a nervous chuckle escaping your pink lips, “No, nothing like that. I’ve never been even asked out.” The entire table went silent for a moment (Wade, on the other hand, yelled in surprise at the discovery. Naturally, everyone paid no mind to him). She really is innocent, they thought but chose to ignore her reply. For now at least. “Some of my very close friends are in town and they invited me to a little reunion at our favorite place,” You explained as you walked back and forth placing a hot beverage in front of each person. “Can we come too?!” Wilson asked, appearing right next to you with his hands clenched eagerly as he waited for your answer. “Wade!” Natasha reprimanded, her hypnotic blue-green eyes burning with annoyance. “Fuck off, Widow — So can we?”
    You couldn’t hold back your laughter as you replied, “It’s okay, Nat—Yes Wade, you can come — In fact, you all are welcome, you’re interested. It starts at 8:00pm. Here’s the address,” You patted the pockets of your worn out blue jeans. Finally finding what you were looking for, you handed the small piece of paper to the blonde super soldier before walking towards the elevators. “I’m going to head out now. I have to get ready. I’ll see you guys there?” Everyone nodded, some muttering a yes with a mouthful of food. You smiled at the red and black Avenger, pointed to a spot on the table. Wilson turned and gasped like a five year old girl. There was a large stack of hot, steaming, freshly made pancakes covered with syrup, and a dollop of butter on top. Right beside it was a small card written in perfect script, ‘For Wade’. He was ready to shower you with affection but as soon as he turned back, you were gone.

    “Uh, are you sure this is correct address?” Wanda cautiously asked, staying close to her older brother as the entire team walked towards large arena in the seediest part of Manhattan. “I checked with F.R.I.D.A.Y three times to make sure and this is it,” Stark sharply stated, giving his phone with the coordinates a second glance. “I’m afraid this is the location. I looked through the worldwide web and all sites point to this venue. It seems to be where they have annual competitions in a sport called ‘roller derby,’ The Vision stated, placing his hands in the pockets of a dark colored hoodie Tony let him borrow. They decided to dress down for the occasion in order to not be recognized by anyone. Without realizing it, they all wore the same thing; dark washed denim, a large hoodie, and a baseball cap pulled forward to cover their face. “I totally feel like we’re in a gang like in the movie ‘Warriors’—Ever watch that movie? I kicked the shit out of these kids that were dressed like a baseball team. It turned out they were really a baseball team! Ha, who would’ve thought, huh? The little shits deserved it, though.” Deadpool growled menacingly, causing onlookers to be even more anxious. “This has to be a mistake. She wouldn’t be in a place like this,” Cap frowned, worried for you safety. Widow chuckled when her gaze fell upon a large poster advertising the main event, “Wanna bet?” A group of thick, vivacious women, donning roller skates, helmets, and tight boy shorts graced the image with their flirtatious poses and smokey eyes. The last one on the far right was blowing a kiss to any person passing by. Her lips were plumped and red, her waist visible due to the crop top she sported, and displaying an elaborate belly ring that connected to a chain hugged her hips. That skater was you. They looked long and hard at the poster. “No…That can’t be…” Barton drifted in disbelief.

    Ladies and gentlemen, please give a round of applause to our returning victors, Artemis’ Amazons!”

    The place was packed, crowded with punk rockers of every age screaming for the team rolling into the track. It smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, weed, and another strong odor Steve chose to ignore as the Avengers pushed their way to the barricades. The announcer kindly handed the mic over to the captain who waved eagerly at the audience, “How you doin’, New York?!” They roared in excitement at being acknowledged, few even chanting her own name. “Alright, alright! Shut the fuck up now, I’m talkin’!” Tony raised an eyebrow, confused by the positive response she was receiving despite insulting them a few seconds ago. “I know the gang and I are excited to be coming home as champions for the second row but we were shitting bricks when we got a blast from the past! You remember her. Our little pussycat has come back to play for this night only! She sharpened her claws for this special occasion. So before she turns back into an adult, put your hands for our one, and only…Vixen!” You rolled beside your best friend and waved vigorously to the masses of supporters. Pressing your small hand to your red lips, you blew a kiss to them and even purposely pressed your arms together to show more of your cleavage. Everyone’s mouth dropped at your provocative behavior. You never behave like that in the tower. You even blushed when you accidentally saw Thor shirtless!
    “Hello my fucking, sexy people! I hope you fuckers are ready for a hell of a game because this Amazon is ready to slit some throats, drink these bitches’ blood, and wipe the floor with these cunts!” You yelled into the microphone as your devotees clamored for you. They rushed closer to the bar that divides you from them. Wanda, Pietro, Clint, Vision and Natasha were pressed up against it, almost squeezing the life out of them. They would’ve been more responsive to the action but they were stunned from hearing you cuss for the first time since…well, ever! Vision was more neutral in reaction, since he himself have read swear words in several different languages. Steve’s mouth hung open, not believing what he just heard. Tony, for once, felt uncomfortable hearing those filthy words uttered. Most of all, because they were uttered by you. To the entire team, it felt like they just watched a baby smoke, drink, and cuss at the same time. It was rather disturbing. Deadpool, on the other hand, was in awe. As the game began, he watched you bodily harm every member of the opposing team, so much to the point they bled. Wade never found you sexier then covered in streaks of the crimson liquid. Out of nowhere, he held a counter to see how many times you cursed. *It was 354!* He shivered in delight with each hiss, or growl. “Ah, I think I just came a little,” The mercenary whimpered, once he saw you extend your arm and hit the opponent in the throat.

    The tournament reached its end and naturally, Artemis’ Amazons won. The cleaning crew entered the track and began the daily routine of cleaning the blood off the smooth surface. Wanda, and Bruce grimaced at the arena that appeared more of a crime scene than a sporting event. “That was the most violent contact sport I’ve ever seen…” Banner said incredulously. Pietro smirked, placing his hand on his shoulder, “You obviously never watched a rugby match, my friend.”
    “Hey guys, I’m so glad you came!” You exclaimed, running towards them with your arms open wide. You hugged them one or two at a time before you continued to dry your h/c hair with the black towel around your neck. “Did you enjoy yourselves?”
    “Let me have your babies!” Wilson professed, grabbing both of your hands in his as he looked straight into your eyes. “Wait, that’s not right. I wanna put my mouth hole on your mouth hole!” You laughed at his responses but you understood what he was trying to say. At least, you hoped you did. The rest of the team shook their heads in embarrassment before Tony spoke up, “Were you always…”
    “Always what?”
    “This dirty?” The red and black Avenger wagged his hairless brows suggestively. Romanov stepped in, hitting Wade upside the head, “What Tony was trying to say is, were you always this…” Even she couldn’t bring herself to say it. How can you ask someone if they’ve always cursed like a drunken sailor? It was Rogers’ turn to try, “Did you always…”
    “Oh, for fuck’s sake, they wanna know if you always cursed,” The scientist said, exasperated by the delay. Iron Man placed his hand on his chest, taken aback by even Banner’s potty mouth, “Banner…” Your hands rested on your hips, shifting your weight to one side as you watched Earth’s mightiest heroes bicker back and forth over the timid physicist’s cry. Wade shuffled himself next to you, his gloved hands behind his back. You turned your head to him, waiting for him to say something but his eyes remained on them and he stood there silently. “…Do you do anal?” He finally said, inquiringly. You smiled widely, moving in front of him, pressing your behind against him, and placing your hands on his groin, “Oh yes, I fucking do.”