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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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“Oh god it’s covered in hearts.” Gareth says, staring horrified at the stage that’s been set up in the cafeteria. Grant and Jeff stand next to him, eyeing the abomination of glitter, paper, and tinsel that’s been shaped into pink and red hearts with a microphone standing proud in the middle.

Several of Hawkin’s jocks are standing to the side, talking amongst themselves, but worse is the crowd of students accumulating in front of the stage.

“You don’t think they’re gonna serenade us for Valentine's Day, do you?” Jeff asks in a similar tone of horror.

Grant makes a disgusted face at the very thought.

“It’s about time they gave me my own mic!” Eddie cackles, slamming his hands down on Gareth and Jeff’s shoulders for leverage, jumping up for a better look (Grant smartly ducked away before his friend can crawl all over him too), “I’ve only been going on about the capitalistic horrors of Valentine's Day since middle school!”

They groan in unison..

Eddie’s got a look on his face that says he’s about to vault up on stage and do this year's rant in style; Gareth will be damned if he lets Eddie get detention on a Hellfire campaign night.

“Eddie, no.” Gareth warns, as his best friend tries to worm his way past them.

“Eddie, yes.” He grins, bolting forward even as multiple hands reach out to yank him back.

“Whatever they’re doing we do not want to get in the middle!” Jeff hisses in his ear as Grant reaches for his middle (already once tricked by grabbing Eddie’s jacket, which he simply shrugged out of). Gareth does his part, holding firmly onto one of Eddie’s hands. Eddie bravely tries to stagger forward, despite the efforts of what looks like some kind of mutant tangle of human limbs.

“Come here microphone, my beloved!” He pants, comically reaching his arms out towards the stage, before Grant promptly stops fooling around and hefts him into the air.

“Nooo--the people need to hear me!” Eddie wails, thrashing.

Gareth rolls his eyes and spots three familiar faces in doing so. Freezes so abruptly that the arm he was holding onto slips out of his grip, allowing Eddie to deploy a tickle attack.

The result is Grant almost throwing him to the floor, with Jeff forced to let go or fall.

Free to cause chaos, Eddie throws his hands in the air, grinning widely.

“Is that…the freshman, up there?” Gareth asks before his best friend can crow victory.

“I’m sure there’s many freshmen up there, buddy.” Grant says with false sincerity as he regains his breath.

“No, not--I mean our freshmen! Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair!” He points, and sure enough, on the side of the crowd opposite the jocks, there stood Hellfire’s youngest with their heads put together.

“Now just what are they up to, I wonder?” Eddie ponders aloud, before shrugging his jacket back in place and strutting forward.

Trading uneasy looks with each other, his friends follow.

xXx

“The auction isn’t kicking off until 6 pm.” Henderson says, as he carefully counts the individual bills in his hand. “We know that besides the basketball team and the cheerleading team, they’ve got like, the Mayor involved, and the fire department, which means--”

“A lot of people are going to be there.” Mike interrupts, arms crossed over his arms. “That’s what it means, Dustin. What’s the point if every girl there is going to be bidding on him?”

“Were you even listening, Mike? I just said there’s a bunch of other people they’re auctioning off!”

Wheeler Jr. pulls a face that nearly makes Eddie laugh (and thus give up the fact he was slowly sneaking up on them) before the kid shoots back, “We have five dollars total Dustin. I don’t think that’s going to be enough.”

“Not to buy a whole person.” Eddie says, voice dropping to imitate the current big bad in their D&D campaign, “But five dollars is a fair price for a body part I’d say…”

He trails off with a cackle as the three freshmen startle away from him like spooked horses. “Now what--or who--are you buying?”

“They’re gonna explain it here in a minute,” Dustin says after he recovers, waving at the girls in front of the stage with a hand. “But there’s some big charity fundraiser happening tonight. Right now they’re voting one guy from the basketball team and one girl from the cheerleading squad to represent the school, but they’re auctioning off a bunch of people.” Dustin explains, holding up his fistful of dollars with a wild grin.

“If you’re the highest bidder, you get to spend the day with the person you bid on.” Lucas adds, because Dustin skipped right over that part. “Since it’s Valentine's Day themed, they’re referring to them as “winning a date”.

Well that explained all the giggling cheerleaders.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “I’d ask if this is Sinclair’s bail money, but as my last two years remind me, it’s only for juniors and seniors. Not--” He playfully slings an arm around Lucas’s shoulders, “--for the darkside’s newest recruits.”

The uncomfortable look Lucas gives him is almost enough to make Eddie feel bad, but it’s not his fault Lucas was tempted by the evils of highschool sportsball. He figures the kid will come to his senses soon enough, and considering how awful the jocks are, it won’t be too long before Sinclair is 100% a Hellfire club member again.

“Which begs the question.” Eddie continues, slinging an arm over Mike’s shoulder as well. “What are you scheming? I’d ask if you’re buying me a date, but,'' He gives an over-dramatic sigh,” alas, no one can survive the charms of Eddie the Banished.”

“Charm is one word for it.” Jeff says, as the rest of Hellfire finally catches up. Gareth and Grant roll their eyes as Mike and Lucas chuckle weakly at Eddie’s exaggerated pout.

He drops his arms from his little lamb’s shoulders, taking a step back and looking around at the growing crowd.

“Hush Jeff. Let’s see if ol’ Eddie can guess who our brethren here have their eyes on. I wonder if…” He trails off, dragging out the last word as he does so before a bright, teasing smile lights up his face. “Aha! I see one Miss Cunningham. Are we bidding on her for Sir Gareth?”

A sputtering noise erupts behind him, as Eddie turns with glee to watch Gareth practically choke on soda he’d just taken a sip of, Grant thumping him on the back.

“Eddie.” Gareth hisses, and somehow it sounds like a warning even if his voice has a slight wheeze to it.

“What?” Eddie says, full of faux innocence. “We all know the lengths you’ve gone to get her attention recently.”

Gareth’s gone bright red, a testament to the fact that he’s been mooning over Chrissy Cunningham since the day she complimented one of his drawings.

His over-the-top moaning of how to woo her away from Jason is a prospect Eddie tolerates only because he himself has gone through great lengths to impress men that will never once look his way, let alone consider him as a romantic option.

(And also because Gareth, as Eddie’s best friend and confidant, was well aware of Eddie’s own crush on one Steve Harrington.

Apparently, Hellfire’s members were just cursed to fall for jocks.)

“They want to bet on Steve.” Mike says with an eye roll, apparently done with this entire charade.

For two seconds Eddie thinks that he’s somehow spoken the part about Steve aloud and that Mike is somehow echoing his deepest, innermost thoughts but is saved from panicking further by Dustin adding;

“We’re gonna make him play a campaign with us.”

The kid’s grin makes his eyes sparkle, which is completely at odds with the way Eddie’s stomach plummets.

“He played D&D with my sister, Eddie.” Lucas says, feigning a hurt look. “My kid sister, but not me?”

“Harrington played D&D?” Gareth’s voice implies he doesn’t believe it, and honestly? Had it not been for the freshmen, he wouldn’t have believed anything that was said about Harrington. He was on the verge of tears with laughter when they told him that the almighty King Steve was their chauffeur. They had to be lying about how often they hung out with Steve to begin with, right? Because there was just no way.

Except they weren’t. They really, really, weren’t.

It only took a handful of times of watching Steve pick them up from Hellfire, and then seeing the entire extended group (including Sinclair’s on-again-off-again girlfriend and Robin Buckley of all people) bouncing around Harrington like over excited puppies all over town.

The arcade. Downtown Hawkins. The local milkshake diner and the stupid movie theater.

Literally.

Everywhere.

“You guys are going to bid on Steve Harrington and make him play D&D.” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie doesn’t blame him for doing that either.

It’s the stupidest thing he’s heard all day, and he spent the last hour and a half listening to Mr. Rulf yawn on about parallelograms.

“Yeah! You guys wanna pitch in and help?”

“Absolutely not.” Eddie sneers. He can’t help himself--this is against everything he’s ever stood for.

Stupid thoughts of stupid Steve going on a stupid date with him, aside.

“Yeah guys, I think we’re gonna eat outside today. If you wanna listen to…whatever,” Jeff casts his eyes towards the cheerleader that’s bounding up the steps of the stage, ponytail bouncing, “ then go right ahead.”

“Oh we don’t need to listen to this.” Dustin dismisses the entire thing with a wave of his hand, making Mike roll his eyes again.

Somewhere in his campaign notes there’s a joke written about Wheeler Jr’s eyes getting stuck like that. Eddie hadn’t planned on bringing it out tonight, but a part of him really wants to.

Maybe if he can talk the freshman out of their idiotic idea, he’ll reward himself and do it tonight anyways.

….Or he could still steal that microphone.

xXx Steve xXx

Steve has no idea how he got talked into this.

Actually, that’s a lie, he knows how it started: a phone call, his mother, and a sudden way for her to be in the spotlight for her yearly fifteen minutes of Hawkins fame. He just can’t recall why he agreed to it.

“It's an opportunity, Steven." She says, heels clicking against the department store tile.

An embarrassment is what it was, but Steve knew better than to tell his mother that.

"You should be honored that Wendy--that’s the head chair of the charity board, you remember her don't you? She used to attend your piano recitals--she asked for you personally." His mother expertly plucked a shirt from the rack, holding it up to the light.

"Those were your parties mom, not my piano recitals." Steve reminds her as she holds the shirt out to him. He took it, adding it to the stack he had in his hands.

The parties were the exact same kind of shit this as this “Valentine's Day Fundraiser” a way for rich people to celebrate themselves by making others uncomfortable.

Only instead of being forced to play piano so his mothers friends could wine and dine with the famous Harrington's, he was being hauled up in front of the entire town (or whoever was attending this stupid event) and auctioned off as a “date” to the highest bidder.

(“It’s for one day, Steven, don’t be so dramatic. Why is your generation entirely incapable of taking a joke and having fun?” His mother had said, when he tried to tell her he wasn’t comfortable with the idea.

Of course there was no answer that would please her; soon enough, Steve found himself dragged about town as his mother played dress up.)

"You'll be standing alongside the Mayor, the fire department, even that idiot, Mary Marie--"

She stops for a moment, eyeing a jacket with a critical eye.

Just as quickly she dismisses it with a hum, prowling on to the next section.

"--the point is that there will be plenty of candidates for the children to pick from, but you’ll be the only hero up there."

That same critical eye turns on him, appraising him like he was no more than a horse in her stable, adding up imperfections and dividing amongst his best qualities.

(Despite a lifetime of training, it still takes everything in him not to squirm.)

"Not to mention a Harrington.” She purrs, taking a step closer to run a manicured hand down the front of his shirt, smoothing away a stray crease. “Women will be throwing money to win a day with you."

Steve has to fight not to outright shudder.

"Which means you have to look your best. Now stop whining, we’re almost done.”

Steve doubts that, but it doesn’t matter; he never had a choice to begin with.

xXx

Four hours, one shower, and several rounds of his mother’s nagging and meticulous styling, ,Steve finds himself back in Hawkin’s High, staring at the gym.

His mother had long swept past him, having spotted some high school friends and gone over to lord her lifestyle and general wealth over them.

For a fundraiser, the charity board in charge had spared no expense in dressing the gym up. Red, pink and white balloons decorated the doorways and a large stage hauled to one end.

Tables with thick, white table cloth are artfully arranged about the floor, caterers swiftly moving between them.

This is probably the fanciest this gym has ever looked, and Steve wants to be anywhere but inside it.

“Oh--Steve.” A gentle voice says next to him, and Steve turns his head in surprise to see Chrissy Cunningham look nervously up at him. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Me neither honestly.” He tells her, watching the way that makes the younger woman smile. “But I’ve been volun-told to be auctioned off. What about yourself?”

Chrissy runs her hands down her dress, a modest if not beautiful blue halter dress , wincing as she snags a nail on it. “The school held a vote at lunch about who would represent the school tonight. All of the varsity cheerleaders and basketball players were involved.”

“I see.” Steve says, keeping his voice gentle and playful. There had always been a part of Chrissy that had reminded him of El. Someone who needed kind words in their life. “You got voted as tonight’s sacrifice, huh?”

Chrissy laughs at that, hand flying to cover her mouth. “I guess you could say that.” She says, and seems surprised at herself for it.

“Did Jason get picked too?” Steve asks. It would make sense if he was, the guy was the basketball Captain after all.

Chrissy nods, then chews on her lip. “Yes but--he’s not happy about it,”

Steve snorts and tries to cover it with a cough. “None of us are.”

“It’s more that I’m being auctioned off.”

Chrissy must catch the look on his face because she rushes to add; “You know, like any boyfriend would be! I know it’s just supposed to be a fun silly thing and they’re not really dates but…” She trails off, voice growing quieter at the end. “He worries.”

The word “worry” sounds like it means something else entirely.

Steve feels for her.

“Hey, if Jason’s an ass about it, let me know.” Steve says after a moment of shared silence. “You don’t deserve to deal with him being a kid about this shit.”

Chrissy blinks up at him at that, hand almost to her mouth as though she’d subconsciously raised them up to chew on her nails. “Thanks Steve. That’s nice of you.” She whispers it, and Steve nods and smiles at her.

“There you two are!” A woman says, rushing over with a clipboard. “Steve Harrington and Chrissy Cunningham, right? We’re gathering all the dates behind those doors.” She turns and points to the opposite end of the gym. “If you both would follow me please?”

Steve motions for Chrissy to go first, and moves to follow her when a flash of curls crushed down by a blur of white, blue and electric yellow catches his eye.

He turns automatically, seeking it out and sure enough, ducking down the hall is Henderson, Sinclair hot on his heels.

A familiar mixture of emotions lights up Steve’s spine, and he knows immediately he won’t be able to rest until he figures out what the gremlins are up to--because their Hellfire Club was supposedly canceled today on grounds that Munson had stolen a microphone, or some other crap.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll join you in a second!” Steve calls, before darting down the hall, after them.

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wikiangela-fanfics · 3 years

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"You should smile more" - sambucky

I’m a sucker for Bucky’s smile so obviously I had to project that onto Sam and write a fic - I use the word ‘smile’ waaaaaay too much in this fic, but whatever

This is my first ever marvel fic, so sorry if it's too ooc but I actually kinda like this one hah

Big thank you to @tasteslikestrawbebbies for beta-reading ♥♥♥

Here it is on Ao3

part 2, part 3

Enjoy ♥

***

One of the things that really struck him was that he kinda loved Bucky’s smile. Once he saw that real, genuine, happy smile on Bucky’s face… all he wanted to do was to make him smile again and again. Which was a crazy thought. Insane. He should not be thinking that, and he tried not to. But then Bucky would smile again, and Sam would melt.

His smile was… really nice. And beautiful. And it was impossible not to smile as well when you saw it. He seemed so relaxed and at peace… Sam has never seen him like that before, but he definitely liked it. He knew there was still work to do, and they would have to get to that sooner or later, but for now, he really enjoyed just hanging out with Bucky, fixing the boat together, talking, which apparently they did now, another surprising thing. Bucky opened up to him, and that meant he trusted him, not only in battle. This made Sam almost giddy.

He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. He knew they would see each other soon, but he selfishly wanted Bucky to stay, to keep him company… to smile at him. God, he was gone on that fucking smile.

He almost considered making up something else that needed repairing that Buck could help him with, but that would require actually having something to do… and he was not about to break something on purpose. Not that that hasn’t crossed his mind… but he wasn’t that far gone. Or that desperate. At least yet.

He convinced himself that he was fine, that not seeing Bucky for a while wasn’t a big deal. Because it shouldn’t be. They had barely talked before Walker was given the shield. And it was fine. It would be fine now, too.

But then, as Bucky was about to leave, the words just slipped out of his mouth.

“You know, you could stay for a while. If you want.” he wasn’t looking at Bucky, his eyes focused on the trees they were passing.

Bucky was quiet for a moment and Sam was afraid he fucked up their relationship, which has improved significantly over the past few days.

“Uh, I’d really like to.” Bucky started. “I would, but I think I need to go. In New York there’s someone who really needs closure, and I’ve been putting it off long enough.” he sighed, and that’s when Sam looked at him again. He seemed nervous and Sam understood.

“Of course.” he smiled. “But, you know, you’re always welcome here, man.” he added.

“Thanks.” Bucky smiled, and Sam’s heart fluttered. Damn, this could not be happening. “I guess I’ll see you- What?” he stopped mid-sentence to look at Sam in confusion.

“What ‘what’?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Sam felt his face heat up and looked away. He kept his cool since Bucky showed up, and now he’s getting caught at whatever his face was doing while he was admiring Bucky’s gorgeous smile? He was pretty sure he was smiling, but what else could be visible in his expression, he had no idea. He was fucked.

“I don’t know, but it’s weird.” Bucky was frowning, his tone slow and confused.

“Bad weird?” Sam couldn’t help but ask, looking back at Bucky, who just shrugged.

“Just different. What’s up?” he asked, not wanting to let go. And of course Bucky, the expert of staring and observing, noticed the difference in Sam’s expression. Of course.

“Nothing, it’s stupid.” Sam laughed, feeling more than ridiculous.

“Now you gotta tell me.” Bucky nudged his arm. “What was that look about?”

“I was just thinking. Forget it.” he shook his head, he tried to brush it off, but he knew it was pointless. One more smile from Bucky, and he was going to melt into a puddle.

“Okay, well, I’m not gonna push.” he lifted both hands in defeat, but he was smiling. Whatever he saw in Sam’s face, had to be positive. Of course it was, he had been thinking about Bucky’s smile. “I’ll get it out of you another time.” he winked, starting to walk again, and Sam wasn’t sure when they stopped walking. “Call me when you have a lead.” he repeated his previous words, clapped Sam on the shoulder, and was about to walk away.

“You should smile more.” Sam said before he even realized he had opened his mouth. How was it that suddenly he couldn’t think around Bucky?

“What?” Bucky turned around, Sam was staring at him, probably looking as surprised as Bucky. But he said it, so there was no backing away now.

“I mean, that’s what I was thinking about.” he swallowed hard. “It’s a good look on you. When you smile.” he said, trying to sound as confident as he could. Slowly, another one of those amazing smiles showed up on Bucky’s face.

“Wow, I did not expect that.” he said, his expression smug.

“Shut up.” Sam rolled his eyes, forcing himself not to smile back.

“You thinking about my smile often?” Bucky then asked, because of course he had to tease Sam about it now.

“I haven’t seen you really smile until, like, yesterday, so no.” Sam answered and thought, damn, where is this conversation going and how did we get here. “And I’m just saying,” oh God, he so needs to shut up already, but his mouth is still moving and the words are pouring out despite his efforts to stop it. “I wouldn’t mind if you did that more often.”

Bucky chuckled, and boy was that a nice sound, and looked down for a second. Seemed like someone was shy about getting complimented. Alright, Sam got it, Bucky probably hasn’t been complimented at all for the past seventy years. But Sam also kinda liked making him blush - because that’s what was happening, Bucky’s cheeks were starting to get pink, and now Sam couldn’t contain his smile.

“That’s, uh, nice.” Bucky said, looking back at Sam. “I just feel really good here, you know?” he confessed. So now they were seriously going to start talking, huh? Sam couldn’t say he was complaining.

“So you gonna come back?” the question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Again. Damn, what was happening to him?

“I haven’t even left yet, Sam. Relax.” Bucky chuckled again, his beautiful, teeth-baring smile not disappearing from his face. Then he sighed. “I promise, once we deal with Karli, I’m gonna visit again and I’ll stay so long you’re gonna beg me to leave.” he added, teasingly. Sam just involuntarily smiled.

“Imma remember that. You better keep your promises.” he said, finger pointed at Bucky to accentuate his words.

“Always do. But now I really gotta go if I wanna catch my flight.” Bucky added, almost apologetically.

“Right.” Sam wanted him to stay, but he already said that, and he wasn’t about to beg. He wasn’t that desperate. And he knew Bucky had to go, he had things to do, people to see, he had to do the work and get better, and it seemed like he was really going to. “Uh, answer my calls and texts this time, will you?” he tried to sound casual and exasperated, but the longing and a bit of hope was audible even to him.

“You plan on contacting me a lot?” Bucky raised his eyebrow.

“Maybe.” Sam was suddenly all too aware of the distance between them. He would have to take two, maybe three steps, to get to Bucky and… and what? He wasn’t sure. “Are you gonna answer?” he asked again, taking a step towards Bucky. What was he doing?

“Of course.” Bucky answered. Sam must’ve looked surprised, because Bucky snickered. “How else will I know that you have a lead?”

“You’re an ass.” Sam rolled his eyes, his cheeks heating up. And here he was hoping they would actually start talking on a regular basis… not that he wanted that. Definitely not. Why would he?

“But if you call me without a lead, I might not hang up on you.” Bucky said, a bit reluctantly, a teasing smirk still on his face. “Depends on my mood.”

“You can call me, too. If you ever wanna talk. No matter what time it is.” Sam took another step, while Bucky watched him curiously.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And, uh, thanks. For all the help, you know.” Sam shrugged. There was still a small distance between them, and he was contemplating crossing it and hugging Bucky.

“Of course.” he said, as if him helping Sam was the most natural and obvious thing in the world. “Anytime. But now I really have to-” he didn’t finish his sentence, because Sam took the final step. But instead of hugging Bucky, he pressed his lips against Bucky’s.

It was a split second, rash decision, he did not intend to do it. At all. It was either letting Bucky go and dreaming about that smile and longing for him for the next indefinite period of time until he saw him again… or kissing Bucky and possibly changing their whole dynamic, risking rejection and making things weird again, possibly weirder than ever.

But Bucky immediately kissed him back, as if he was expecting it. And Sam could feel him smiling, which only added to the fluttering feeling in his stomach.

At first, it was chaste, just lips against lips, but that lasted a whole two seconds before Bucky opened his mouth, deepening it. He dropped his bag, his metal hand finding its way to Sam’s hip, while the flesh one cupped Sam’s cheek. Sam’s hands were in Bucky’s hair, running his fingers through it, and trying to bring him even closer. Honestly, Sam wanted to stay in that moment forever. Bucky’s lips not only looked good and irresistible - the man was an amazing kisser. Sam wanted more. He needed more. And one of his hands started trailing down Bucky’s arm to the hem of his shirt, but then… Bucky broke the kiss.

“You really want me to miss my flight, huh?” he asked, his forehead pressed against Sam’s. He was smiling, and both their breaths were quickened.

“I told you, you could stay.” Sam said, not able to contain a smile either. “We could… uh, have some fun, if you stayed.” he added, his tone deliberately suggestive. He decided to stop being tentative about his feelings. They just made out, he was aroused, and he was pretty sure Bucky was too. He desperately wanted him closer, wanted their bodies pressed together. Preferably undressed. Oh fuck, when did he go from Bucky has a beautiful smile to I wanna fuck him ? This was happening fast. Or maybe those thoughts were always there, lurking, as he tried to convince himself he’s not attracted to the guy. Maybe.

“I would love to.” Bucky said, sighing, and his breath hit Sam’s mouth, making him shiver. He wanted those lips on his again. But Bucky pulled away, hands still on Sam, but now his piercing blue eyes were staring at him again. This time, Sam didn’t mind. The staring stopped bothering him a while ago.

“But?” Sam tried to keep disappointment out of his voice.

“But, before this,” he waved his flesh hand between them. “Develops any further, I need to deal with some stuff.” he said, and Sam felt his heart swell. First of all, Bucky seemed so sure that this thing between them would turn into something, so Sam didn’t have to worry about what the kiss meant, they were both on the same page. And second of all, Bucky actually wanted to work on himself first before getting into a relationship. Which filled Sam with pride. He knew that it wouldn’t be a problem for them - he knew a lot about Bucky and his trauma, and he would love to help, in any way he could. But if Bucky thought it was something he needed to do by himself, and was actually willing to do the work, that was amazing.

“Okay.” Sam said, smiling fondly. “Just, you know, not all the stuff, yeah? I’m not gonna wait for an eternity.” his tone was jocular, but he needed Buck to know that he was in, despite all his shit. He hoped his message was at least a bit clear.

“Yeah.” Bucky smiled, leaning in for another kiss, this time brief, leaving Sam chasing after him as he was pulling away. “I’ll see you soon.” he added, finally picking up his bag and starting to walk away. Again.

“You better answer your phone or you’ll see me sooner than you think.” Sam yelled after him. Bucky turned around to shoot him one of his genuine, amused grins that made Sam’s knees weak, and made it impossible not to smile back.

Yeah, he definitely loved Bucky’s smile. And he already couldn’t wait to see it again.

#sambucky #sambucky fic #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky fluff #fluff #fanfic #tfatws #sam and bucky #bucky's smile is the best thing ever and it prompted me to finally write about them #sam wilson #bucky barnes #idk #i'm bad at tags #my writing

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oh-theatre · 4 years

Text

Livin’ It Up: Chapter 3

Chapter title: Its All Coming Back To Me Now

A/N: New, bad, sorry. Comment? Sorry for short, important.

words: 1340

summary: return

pairings: Eventual logicality, eventual prinxiety, eventual demus, eventual Moceit (Which then goes back to Logicality and Demus)

warnings: Swearing, alcohol, underage drinking, drinking, parties, kissing, throw up, slight self harm, emotional abuse

Ao3 Link

“Ugh of course he did” Virgil sighs, throwing his journal across the room. Patton giggles still scribbling away at his homework. Virgil sits up, rubbing the nape of his neck with sympathy in his eyes. “Im sorry Pat, i know you wanted...not that”

“Hey its ok! I gave it a shot, plus the night I had was fun” Patton admits, he shrugs away his thoughts but finds himself doodling in the corner of his calculus work. “This is pointless” He shut his book away, returning it neatly to its spot on his desk. “My brain cant focus” He threw his eraser towards Virgil “Tell me about Roman” He smirks.

“Ok look nothings happened since the party” Virgil tells, and Patton listens, well until Virgil begins to ramble about their theatre project. His mind was in too many places at once, and he loved Virgil but once his gushing ended and his worries set in, Patton couldn't focus. His mind wandered to that fateful night, under the amber lights of a bustling evening.

“But they're so sticky” Logan scrunched his face, watching Patton thank the shop tender for his caramel apple. Patton rolls his eyes with a playful smile.

“Delicious is the word you're looking for” He corrects, Logan still doubtful. “Come on, take a bite” he offers, holding it up. Hesitant at first, Logan eyes it, was he examining the apple? Oh god, the way his glasses sat on his nose practically falling, Patton swears he could hear his heartbeat.

“Alright” He says, he holds his glasses, Patton strengthens his hold as Logan takes a bite out of the delectable treat. Logan's eyes quickly fly open, a surprise as he chews.

“Congrats Moreno! You're one of us common folk now” Patton teases, the wind ruffling both of their hair. Logan nods, taking yet another bite, Patotn didn't mind, he found the small chipmunk like chewing adorable. “Come on Simon, there's more to show you” He jokes, Logan takes his hand allowing the cheerleader to guide him. The apple was gone quickly but neither minded, it made their commute easier.

Patton had to wonder if Logan had ever been outside however, every little new thing sparked him, the bored robotic look in his eyes disappeared with a new flicker of excitement. Patton adored it. He grew fond of how Logan would fiddle with his fingers, it was soft.

“Just ignore them” Logan whispered as the pair walked towards a more quiet spot.

“Hm?” Patton hummed in response, a small skip as the gravel crackled below their feet.

“The girls and guys staring, just ignore them” And Patton had been. It was hard not to notice, each with daggers in their eyes but even if tonight was just a one time thing, or whatnot Patton was here to enjoy himself, enjoy the carnival he had spent weeks preparing and try something new. And it was nice, even if he did notice the winks Logan would throw out, the boredom as Patton chatted with people and the constant phone checking.

Its nice

It was nice

“So now im like i don't know! Should I dye my hair!” Virgil finishes, Patton coughs away his thoughts.

“I might have adhd but you can really go down a rabbit hole” Patton laughs, Virgil chuckles a flash of red on his cheeks. “Not a bad thing, and i think you should dye your hair if you want. No matter what you're gonna look great” Patton compliments. “Crap! We’re gonna be late” He checks his watch, morning homework sessions on monday were a usual. Except when they forget to actually get to school.

“Id say race you there but i dont wanna get there any faster than I have to” Virgil says, and with that they rush out the house.

~~~

“Does he have to looking so fucking cute” Logan spits, Roman stops his words instaly and looks to where an angry Logan glares.

“Uh Im sorry, imma need my friend back” Roman pokes, Logan turns to him, his eyebrows tightened. “Dude, what is going on with you” Roman questions, Logan slams the locker shut trying to distract himself from Patton and Virgil standing just a few steps down the hall at their own lockers. “Just a reminder that you-”

“Roman I am fully aware of what happened, I am also fully aware that the only reason Patton has not spoken to me is my own fault” Logan leans against the locker paralleling Romans pose. “However I am still infuriated that he looks that cute” Logan sighs. He wasn't wrong, even if Roman and Patton had their...issues he still knew his former friend. And Patton had an incredible eye for fashion.

And today was no exception. He wore a dropped shoulder cropped pullover, striped with white, pastel blue and pink, finished with a white collar. His light blue jeans sat comfortably on his legs cuffed at the bottom to show off his white sneakers. His belt was prominent and no mistake and his backpack slung over just one shoulder as he unpacked his belongings into his locker.

Objectively he was cute, but Roman was distracted by Virgil. He stood next to Patton talking away, his outfits always suited him and his defensive look only made Romans face flush more.

“Welp, you win some you lose some” Roman shrugs, patting his friend.

“I so appreciate the sentiment dear friend” Logan's sarcasm was not lost on Roman.

“Come on, you need some sushi in you” Roman takes his friend's shoulders, preparing to guide his friend towards the exit. Each has a free period that bleeds into lunch so why not take advantage?

~~~

“Is it bad that I want to wear Romans varsity jacket?” Virgil whispered as he darted his eyes away from the said jock who only stood a few feet away.

“No, it's adorable” Patton says, he organizes his things in his locker, ignoring as Logan and Roman begin to walk towards them. He knew rationally they were headed towards the exit but the small inkling of fear if they were to come up to him was still present. But quickly his mind was taken elsewhere with an abrupt cheer.

“One! Two! Three!” He hears, why was that voice so familiar? “Who missed me!”

“Janus!” Patton recognizes, he spins with unfiltered excitement rushing through the hall. Janus laughs as he sees his friend racing towards him wasting no time to wrap him in his arms and spin him quickly. Their embrace was pure elation, Virgil caught up to the pair with his own grin. They finally parted ignoring the crowd around them, specifically two boys who had decided sushi could wait.

“Buttercup!” He grins, Patton giggles delighted. He had missed Janus so much, and the sweet way the nickname fell only increased the buzz in his heart.

Someone else in the hall was not feeling the ecstatic energy. Logan glared his shoulders tightening under Romans hold. What was this envious sweat dripping from him as he watched Janus snake a respectful arm around Patton's waist, cupped to keep his gentlemans distance.

But Logan wasn't allowed to be mad

He saw Carly down the hall, she winked at him receiving a disgruntled scowl in return. He watched Brittany and Martin walk by him, each a flustered look.

And why should he care, he had the whole school, why did he need-

His thoughts were interrupted by the most intoxicating, sweetest sound to ever bless his ears. Pattons little giggle as he clutched to Janus for stability. He may have been seventeen but he towered over the boys, including Logan. Virgil seemed happy enough but Logan couldn't get over Patton. Patton stood blushing, his hand never left Janus’s side and he was...flashing the brightest smile.

Why did Logan want to be the one to cause that reaction

“Oh shut up moreno” He whispers to himself, swiping away from Romans grasps he shoots Martin a wink before making his way to lunch, a hesitant Roman followed.

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cheeseeatingtrashmonster · 4 years

Text

White Butterfly

Written for a gift exchange with friends. @you-arelove, sweetie, happy... mid-March, which is when I gave it to you :P

Ao3

"You should wear the red sweater dress."

Kagami turned from her closet to look at the love of her life, framed with light pouring through the hallway window behind her.

"Do you really want to be the couple that wears matching outfits to this party?"

Marinette came into the room and held up the dress she had mentioned, draping it in front of Kagami and turning them both to face the mirror in their room. "It's our party. We can match if we want to."

Kagami watched Marinette's eyes bounce around the room. The closet, Kagami's legs, the dresser, the jewelry box, Kagami's waist, Kagami's shoulders and neck, the six other outfits laid out on the bed.

"Aren't you supposed to say 'lucky charm' before analyzing the situation?"

Marinette's eyes snapped back to hers. She blinked, and a grin took over her whole person.

"Why would I need to? I already have my lucky charm since you're right here."

Kagami turned around and leaned her forehead against Marinette's. Marinette hadn't grown an inch since the day they met, but Kagami had experienced a growth spurt and stood half a head taller than her wife.

"I'm the lucky one."

"You two are saps," Alix said from the hallway around a mouthful of dry cereal. She had the box under her arm. "Get dressed and get downstairs so I can stop answering the door for all the early people."

Kagami pulled on the sweater dress. When her head cleared the collar, Marinette shoved a belt in her face. She took it and put it on without comment.

"Who is here already besides you? The party doesn't start for an hour and a half," Marinette said. She selected a pair of shoes for Kagami from their closet and set them on the floor. Just as Kagami was about to slide one foot into place, Marinette shook her head and snatched the shoes up, not noticing Kagami wobbling in an attempt to not fall on top of her.

"I mean, Nath and Adrien only live across town. Did you really think Adrien would wait until the designated start time? When there are people who haven't met their daughter?"

"Oh, just those three?" Marinette asked. "They don't count! They're over here all the time." She stood on her tiptoes behind Kagami to brush her hair out of the way and fasten a necklace in place.

"Nathalie came with them. And Kagami, your mom got here just a minute ago and she scares me, so I'm gonna hang out up here until you're downstairs."

Marinette grabbed Kagami's hands, eyes shining but the rest of her features as neutral as she could manage. "You invited your mom after all?"

"I did." Some emotion bubbled in her chest, fizzing and pressing. Her mother hadn't said one way or the other if she was going to show up. "And she's... here."

Marinette threw her arms around Kagami's neck, giggling and wiggling and bouncing. It took Kagami a moment to hug Marinette back. The ease with which Marinette displayed her feelings would always leave her with a sense of awe.

The doorbell interrupted them. Marinette pecked a quick kiss on her cheek and pulled away.

"I guess no one listened to what time we told them to arrive," Marinette said. "Let's go say hello."

“Is that your cat?” Alix asked, nodding towards the rescue tabby that had climbed out from under the bed to stretch.

“No,” Kagami deadpanned.

Alix looked away from the cat to stare at Kagami for a minute. When the doorbell rang again, she blinked in surprise and laughed.

“You’re getting good at this ‘making jokes with humans’ thing, K,” she said. “Go answer the door. Imma introduce myself to the kitty.”

Kagami wrapped an arm around Marinette’s waist and started pulling her towards the hallway.

“Her name is Catra,” Marinette called over her shoulder. “She likes scritches under her chin, but you have to let her sniff your face before she’ll let you touch her. And if you want, there are treats on the dresser. She likes the-”

The doorbell rang again.

“Yeah yeah yeah, go answer the door,” Alix called, not even turning to look at them. Kagami glanced back and saw Alix laying on her stomach on the floor facing the cat, unmoving except for the hand bringing cereal from the box to her mouth.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Marinette said, “We’re never seeing Alix or Catra again, are we?”

“Probably not,” Kagami said, leaning over to kiss Marinette’s cheek. “Now, I’m going to steal little Emilie Agreste-Kurtzberg and use her to distract my mother from actual conversation.”

Marinette greeted Alya and Nino at the door, teasing them for not just walking in like usual. Behind them, Juleka, Luka, Rose, and Anarka were walking up the sidewalk. The Dupain-Chengs arrived next, and then Ivan, Mylene, and their triplets. By the time Max and Kim arrived, the party was in full swing. Marinette gathered everyone around the long dining room table and called for quiet.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming," Kagami said. She and Marinette stood hand in hand at the head of the table, facing a house full of their favorite people and a table full of food everyone had brought. "Ten years ago, Ladybug, Chat Noir, and their fellow heroes saved Paris, and the world, from Hawkmoth's reign. Ten years ago, everyone in this room took part in the final battle. When we-"

A small hand tugged at Kagami's skirt. She stopped and turned to see one of the Bruel triplets staring up at her.

"I wasn't there." With one fist still holding Kagami's skirt, she popped her other thumb in her mouth, wide eyes watching Kagami, expectant.

Kagami bit her lip to keep from smiling too widely. "You're right. You weren't there." She picked the little girl up, settling her on her hip and melting when the toddler’s head dropped to rest on her shoulder. "Ten years ago, most everyone in this room took part in the final battle. When we found ourselves victorious, our rejoicing was strong but short-lived. We had won. But we weren't done."

Here, Marinette reached out a hand to Adrien. He handed Emilie to Nath and came to stand at her side, bypassing her hand and pulling her into a side-hug.

"We found that we had yet to really heal. We all banded together to do just that. We rebuilt this city, every one of us." Kagami held out her hand to Luka, who was seated on her right. He stood and took her hand. Anarka next to him stood and took his hand and reached for Juleka's on her right. All the way around the table, every person stood and held hands with their neighbors. When the circuit had connected, Kagami continued.

"I think every one of us could list the things we've gained from the other people in this room, the ways we've all cared for each other over the years." Five or six agreements of various volumes interrupted her. "But I think the best thing we've given each other-"

Kagami stopped. Halfway down the table, between Max and Sabine, her mother was smiling.

Smiling. Her mother was smiling... at her.

Kagami turned to Marinette but found her vision blurry. She couldn't wipe away her tears with one arm supporting the child and the other hand connecting her to this chain of wonderful people, and she couldn't remember a single thing she was supposed to say next.

"The best thing we've given each other," Adrien said, reaching around Marinette to give Kagami's arm a quick squeeze, "is family. Family built on love. Thank you for supporting us for the last ten years. Thank you for being our family, for choosing to be our family."

Marinette pulled Kagami close and wiped the tears from her cheeks. When Kagami gave her a watery smile and a nod, she took Adrien's hand and Kagami's arm again, keeping the circle closed. "The power of love. Always so strong." She sighed, a smile on her face. "Now please, eat! And happy tenth White Butterfly Day."

The table erupted into voices and clapping and whoops of joy and the clatter of plates and silverware.

This was how Kagami had always wanted family to sound.

#miraculous ladybug #kagaminette #marigami #marinette dupain-cheng #kagami tsurugi #fluff #established relationship #found family #aged up characters #my writing #plz let me know who you think named the cat

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bapyess1r · 4 years

Text

Sunny Daze

WARNINGS: cursing, substance, a bit of angst

Pairings: Sam Drake x OC

Author’s note: I started to write a thing.... I wanna see where it goes! Please tell me if you like it! I’m genuinely curious lol

Chapter 1

Sunny’s POV

I sighed, knocking on the hotel door as I adjusted the weekend bags over both my shoulders, hoping that Nathan fucking Drake hadn’t once again called for me just to do research. Or to break into or solve something… My best friend had a tendency to call and have me leave at the drop of a hat for something I could’ve done from my computer at home. Nate liked to call me “Brain” sometimes because I could solve most puzzles and mechanisms he got stumped on during jobs. Any time he had a robbery job, I was that voice in his ear telling him where to go and what to do. Lights out? I’d handle it. Bypass security? I got you. I even assisted on treasure hunts sometimes. I was good with hand to hand combat and weapons. And none of this was legal by any means but it was a job. Better than the one I currently have…

I shook the thoughts of doubt quickly as the door knob began to twist. I crossed my arms raising a thick bit shapely brow when he opened the door. “Sunny!” He exclaimed, embracing my teeny frame in his hefty arms. I returned the hug reluctantly, rolling my eyes and lazily patting him on the back.

“What do you want, Nate?” I asked tactlessly, my voice thick with a southern drawl.

“Oh, c’mon! You’re not still mad about-”

“Yes, I’m still mad about it, Nathan!” I exclaimed but he placed a few fingers over my mouth to shush me and hurried me inside the room.

“Shut up! People can hear you out there!” He said, closing the door behind me as I stared at him incredulously. Standing in the room was that sweet old man that I’d recognize anywhere. A smile crawled across my lips as I set down my bags by the couch and opened my arms to him.

“Sullivan, you son of bitch!” I laughed as we approached each other.

“Get over here, kid!” He said, ashing out his cigar and hugging me with a tight familial hug. “How are ya, Sunny?”

“Same ol’, same ol’. Jet’s got me workin’ the bar and waitressin’ now mostly. Way better than stage in my opinion. A couple of hecklers with wanderin’ hands now n’ then but…. nothin’ I can’t handle!” I smirked with a simple shrug. He huffed and shook his head.

“I do really wish you’d find somewhere else to work. It’s no place for a smart woman like you.” He told me, sitting back down at the table with a grunt.

“You n’ I both know why I can’t do that, Sully…” I said softly, looking into his blue eyes helplessly. He sighed, nodding.

“I know…” he said solemnly and I placed a consoling hand on his shoulder before noticing the man outside on their balcony, smoking a cigarette. Nathan approached me as he noticed my stare and leaned in.

“So… long story short…… that’s my brother…” he told me carefully and I gasped. I looked at him with my big brown eyes, covering my mouth.

“Get out- really?!” I exclaimed in a hushed tone. He nodded. I shook my head in disbelief. “You had a brother?! This whole time and you never told me? Me?!”

“If it makes you feel any better, Elena doesn’t know either…” he spoke with a look of guilt as he looked down and played with the cuticles on his fingers. I gasped again and punched him in the arm. Hard.

“You haven’t even told your wife?! Nathan-” I began but he waved me off.

“Yeah, Yeah, I know: I’m a piece of shit.”

I scoffed. “So...what’s this all about?” I asked just as his brother had turned around. My stomach lurched as his eyes met with mine for a brief second and Nathan pulled me over to his room to explain.

“Did you bring the stuff?”

“Yeah I brought the stuff- now stop bullshittin’ and tell me what’s goin’ on! You got me all the way out here in Italy for why?!” I snapped beginning to lose my patience. And I didn’t have much. He explained to me the story of his brief time in a Panamanian jail and how he thought his brother had died years ago. My eyes widened with every detail and eventually I leaned against the dresser with my arms crossed; just trying to digest all that he told me. “So…. Rafe Adler, killed a guard and Sam got stuck doin’ the time while you got away? How’d he get out if they had it in for him so bad…”

“He escaped with his cellmate, Hector Alcázar, who’s some big mafia figure. He had arranged a jailbreak and wants half of our findings as payment for Sam’s freedom.” He said worriedly. I stared at a dirty spot in the shoddy carpeting and nodded my head, fidgeting with my fingers. This was indeed a lot to take in.

“And you need my help for this?” I asked.

“I didn’t know who else to call...” He said knitting his brows together. Obviously, I was going to help him. He was my best friend and I’d do anything for him. Helping him save his brother was the least I could do for all that he’d done for me in my life.

“Well first… I need a drink…and a cigarette…” was all I could come up with in response. I slipped by my best friend and went back to the common area, pulling a stick from the packet in my jacket pocket with my teeth, my bestie trailing at my heels. Sully and Nathan’s brother sat at the table holding a casual conversation, huddled over the table with their drinks as I entered the room, lighting the cigarette and placing my hands on my hips. They both looked at me as I sat down at the table and poured myself a drink. I looked directly at Sam, his hazel eyes widened as I gave him the meanest mug possible. “If Nate gets hurt by this… in any way other than a bruise or a scratch, so help me God, I will kill you before Alcázar gets the chance. Do I make myself clear… Samuel?” I said, pointing my burning cigarette at him, my eyes never wavering as I leaned into the table. He blinked at me and nodded as Nathan sat down to join us, maps, papers, and books in his hands.

“And she means it, boy…” Sully added cautiously.

“Crystal.” He responded simply, a Boston accent dripping from his lips.

“Fantastic. Now… what’s the plan?” I asked as the younger Drake placed everything on the table before us.

“I guess we’ll bring you up to speed.” Nathan said with a small smile.

After about an hour, I was caught up to everything going on and we planned our strategy to steal the St. Dismas cross from the Rossi Estate auction happening in three days. Everyone began to peel off to catch some shut eye, except the eldest Drake. He walked off to take a smoke break and I was inclined to join him after I’d finished my drink. I took a long hard look at him as I sat alone at the table. He was tall. But I was super short so everybody seemed y’all to me. His shoulders were broad, his chest and arms strapped tight with muscles. His thick brown locks were pushed back off of his face. I’d almost call him attractive if I weren’t so pissed at him for dragging Nathan into this. He seemed okay talking around the table but something just didn’t sit right with me. Like he was hiding something. ‘Imma figure out what eventually….’ I thought as I stood to have another cigarette. I walked over to the concreted railing to stand uncomfortably close to this brother without a word. It didn’t take long for him to attempt to break the awkward silence. “So how long have you known my little brother? Y’know what's your story?” He asked.

“I went to MIT. Graduated, life got hard afterwards and I ended up moving back to Texas doin’ office work. Which sucked.” I began and he let an amused chuckle escape his mouth before taking a quick drag. I smirked as I continued. “To spice things up, I kinda sorta maybe hacked into the company’s funds and…. I’m sure you can imagine how that shit turned out. I had to leave town; got a whole new identity, met Elena at a gym randomly. Then I met Nathan through her. We’ve been friends ever since. He calls on me for a few jobs and some assistance once in a while.”

“And what is it that you’re doing here? No offense, sister, but I told Nathan I don’t trust anybody on his contact list with my life and I don’t know you from a can of paint.”

“And I don’t know you. But I’ve known your brother for the better part of 15 years so I don’t think you have any rights in questioning my abilities because I don’t have to help you.” I fired back, crossing my arms as smoke exhaled from my nostrils. He raised a thick brow and chuckled.

“You got spunk, lady. I like it.” He put out his cigarette and adjusted his pants. My nostrils flared up as I took deep controlled breaths. I never met a man sassier than me but I guess I couldn’t say that anymore. “We’re doin’ recon in the morning. I suggest you get some sleep.” He smirked heading to his room and closing the door, leaving me with the couch.

“Dick…” I mumbled to myself as I tossed my cigarette over the balcony and started towards the couch. I landed on it wondering if I was supposed to be here. I found myself wondering that a lot lately. After every job, I always felt a sense of slight fulfillment. It never lasted long though. I was never satisfied and always looking for a job to do. If it weren’t for Nate, I’m sure I’d be in a helluva lot more trouble than where I was. It was that thought alone that made me feel like I was okay. I was going to give 110% to help him save his brother. Then we’d be even. I let myself drift off as the whiskey began to take effect, falling into a drunken, dreamless slumber.

Read More on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25472005

#uncharted 4 #sam drake #sam drake x reader smut #samuel drake #samuel drake x reader #uncharted #uncharted smut #uncharted x reader #sam drake fanfiction #sam drake smut #sam drake x oc #samuel drake smut #samuel drake x oc #poc #rafe adler x oc #rafe adler #elena fisher #victor sullivan #nadine ross

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italian-sides · 4 years

Text

“Ombre e Bastoni”, ch. 3

Hello again! As usual, thank you so much to @misslilidelaney for writing this and @watcher-from-the-heights for being my awesome beta all the time. I also tag @ts-italian-gang, because I can and I want to. If you want, you can support the fic on AO3 too! Imma post the third chapter as soon as I finish posting it here on Tumblr. Anyway, enjoy! Whenever Emilio Picani walked into the Dolce&Remì, all heads turned. Even if he lived in Bologna on a permanent basis for three years by now, he didn't know why everybody there, especially the usual people, laid eyes on him as they didn't for other customers. And yet he wasn’t that flashy or even fashionable. Sure, he was tall, he had fine features and an enjoyable physique, but he wasn't that special. He was just a nice guy, with his passion for colorful ties and pastel cardigans. Of course, he knew very well that he had been in the sights of a couple of them for a long time: he well remembered Romolo's ruthless flirting and Virgil's stuttering when he asked him to be his tutor on the subjects that he himself studied before opening his own therapy office in Bologna. And no one, not even his roommate Remo, knew how he opened Luca's eyes to his cousin Patrizio, whom Emilio loved with all his heart. All three boys were undoubtedly beautiful, charismatic and, in their own way, interesting. Yet he couldn't accept their court. Because 30-year-old Emilio Picani hadn’t decided to come out yet. Partially due to his parents, fervent Catholics unlike him, but mostly because surprise surprise... Emilio Picani was shy. And before the bar, the usual places where he felt at home were his office and his room, where he surrounded himself with memorabilia from cartoons and anime, things that fascinated him since adolescence. In short his shyness, mixed with the stereotype of the glittery, feather-filled homosexuals he was accustomed to by his parents, always kept him away from the whole LGBT world, which the psychologist didn't feel a part of. He envied his little Emilian cousin when he came out as pansexual, and he knew very well that sooner or later, hanging out with Patrizio's clique, he had to decide, too, to get out of the closet. So he declined Romolo's declaration for that very reason. Although it wasn’t the only reason. The second reason was... slightly taller than him. His shoulders were wide, although he often slouched, making himself about ten centimetres shorter in height. He had bright green eyes, almost to an unnatural extent. He had his hair shaved on the sides but with a thick quiff on top, which he held back with a yellow headband, clearly his favorite color. He rarely laughed, but when he did, it was a low, deep laugh, able to literally shake the Veronese's stomach. And he was from Veneto, like him. His second piece of home, after Patrizio. Emilio Picani, thirty years old, a therapist and still in the closet. But completely gay for Giuda Schiavon. He was convinced of that by now. He tried to deny it, to say that it was just his imagination. Everyone at the bar loved him, they laughed with him, they confided in him, sometimes for sentimental nonsense, sometimes for more serious consultations. Tommaso became one of his patients from the first day that he finally opened his office, and the two were now pretty close, almost like brothers. He was the first to whom Emilio confessed his sexual orientation. Tommaso embraced him and murmured: "Don’t worry, nobody figured it out." They laughed, and the Veronese immediately called his cousin, who promised not to say anything, for the time being, to anyone, not even his significant other, Luca. Unfortunately, not even Tommaso could dispel Emilio’s doubts. Those doubts that by now became certainties, in those three years, and devastated the psychologist. Giuda, his beautiful, silent, mysterious and fascinating Giuda, couldn't even bear the sight of the Veronese. He never treated him badly, but Emilio couldn't help but notice how he changed his attitude whenever he walked in.

He often looked at him from the bar's window. He looked at him for a long time, laughing and joking with everyone, even with Virgilio, and by now he could read his expressions without hearing him speak, just by observing him. So he knew that the coldness he showed him was real. As his eyes became slits, as his words became cold hisses, rarely addressed to Emilio. Never openly unsympathetic, but incredibly icy. And apparently, whatever he had to do in the kitchen, he always had to do it when he walked in. But no one knew about his crush, except for Patrizio, who after all read him like an open book. And not even Patrizio could understand the change of mood of the Venetian, in the presence of his cousin. The young Bolognese tried to convince his cousin to surrender, or at least to talk to him, and this was precisely the reason why Emilio pushed himself, thanks to a nice glass of Millesimato di Conegliano, to speak, perhaps for the third time in three years, to Giuda in the bar. And that made the dishwasher guy so nervous that he dropped the glasses' tray in his hand. "You're welcome.", the Venetian hissed, looking at him, for the first time in three years, in the eyes.

A rush ran through Emilio’s body. An electric shock like he never experienced before. Joined by an endless lump in his throat for what just happened. As soon as Giuda wandered off to take the broom to sweep up the floor, followed by Remo, Emilio stood up and tried to go around the counter to pick up the glass pieces but Tommas ostopped him right away. "You're gonna hurt yourself. You get paper cuts all the time, can you imagine what would happen with glass?"

"But... Giuda..." Tommaso sighed and perhaps understood: "Giuda will be fine. It's not the first time he’s spilled glasses. Maybe he should calm down a bit; if he hadn't been so tense he wouldn’t have dropped them. Don’t even think it’s your fault." Emilio sighed, taking off his glasses and shaking his head: "But it is my fault." Patrizio approached him, and put his hand on his shoulder again. Luca was behind them and suggested, matter-of-factly: "Emilio, do you want to get some air?" The Veronese nodded carelessly and they went outside. Despite Patrizio's dirty look, the Veronese automatically extracted his pack of cigarillos and lit one. As he blew out the smoke from the miniature cigar, he kept looking inside the bar. And he saw Giuda, with his yellow gloves, going up on the counter and looking around. He'd been... crying? His eyes, particularly the left one, were tremendously red. The sigh, undoubtedly of relief, emitted by the young Venetian followed by the hand on Remo’s shoulder, definitely devastated the 30-year-old. Patrizio was watching the scene next to him, and he murmured: "He acts like he’s the victim when he actually did it all by himself. What a two-faced snake..." "Patrizio, please...", begged the Veronese. "Please what? He dropped the glasses, not you. You just thanked him, Emi. I don’t know how you can like someone like t..." Patrizio opened his eyes wide and shut his mouth with one hand. But the damage had been already done. Luca was looking at both of them with his eyes wide open like a deer in front of headlights. He looked at them both with shock, Emilio who by now had given up and begun to silently cry, pulling from the cigarillo like a madman, and Patrizio who continued to whisper his apologies. And he cleared his voice pretty nicely before asking, with kindness, despite the hard accent typical of his region: "Do you want to come to our house for some hot tea? I’m sure we can raid some of Romolo's nicest cookies." Emilio nodded, and his cousin’s boyfriend took them both under his arm, taking them away from the Dolce&Remì. The boy giggled when, while stepping into the living room, they surprised Virgilio and Romolo sitting on the couch and hugging each other, watching Mulan on Blu-ray, claiming to have fallen asleep, not noticing the compromising position. He silently watched Luca hugging Patrizio from behind, whispering something in his ear while the young Emilian was preparing tea for all of them. And he widened his eyes in terror when both the Molisan and the Roman confessed that they had noticed his crush on Giuda probably before Emilio admitted it to himself. The evening passed quickly, almost too quickly, between the teasing towards Emilio for his questionable choice - Romolo was still so mad at him, for obvious reasons - and when it was time to go home, Emilio thought of staying in his cousin’s apartment with his three lovely roommates. But he knew that in that same building, his roommate Remo was coming home. So he kissed his cousin on the forehead and hugged the other three, and took the elevator home. Once the door was open, he found Remo looking at something on the computer, in the dark of the dining room: "Oh, hey, Emì. You ran off to your cousin? Giuda wanted to apologize for treating you so badly." Right. He had such a sorry face. "Actually, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I made him destroy the glasses and I ran away. Holy crap, I've been a jerk. I hope he doesn’t throw a chair at me the next time I walk into the bar." "C'moooon. Giuda smashes glasses, and not only those, more than he could ever admit!", laughed the Roman, before yawning loudly and getting out of the chair: "Listen... I wanted to do something nice at the bar... Something that can involve young people but traditional at the same time. If we had a briscola tournament [1], would you like to play?" "Holy crap! Are you seriously asking me? I love briscola!" "Alright, bruh. C'mon then, I’ll talk to Tommy tomorrow and see what we can do about it. If you don’t come to play, I’ll never talk to you again!" Emilio nodded and Remo went to his room, a little diabolical smile on his face.

[1]: according to Wikipedia, "Briscola is one of Italy's most popular games, a Mediterranean trick-taking, Ace-Ten card game for two to six players played with a standard Italian 40-card deck. With three or six players, twos are removed from the deck to ensure the number of cards in the deck is a multiple of the number of players; a single two for three players and all four twos for six players. The four- and six-player versions of the game are played as a partnership game of two teams, with players seated such that every player is adjacent to two opponents."

1 - 2 - 3 - ?

hope you enjoyed, ciao!

Quando Emilio Picani entrava al Dolce&Remì, tutte le teste si giravano. Anche se ormai viveva a Bologna in pianta stabile da 3 anni e poco più, non sapeva perché tutti i presenti, specialmente i soliti noti, posavano lo sguardo su di lui come non facevano per gli altri clienti del bar. Eppure non era così appariscente o alla moda. Certo, era alto, aveva dei bei lineamenti ed un bel fisico, ma non era così speciale. Era semplicemente un bel ragazzo, con la sua passione per le cravatte colorate ed i cardigan color pastello. Certo, sapeva benissimo di essere stato nelle mire di un paio di loro per un lungo periodo, ricordava bene la corte spietata di Romolo e il balbettare di Virgilio quando gli aveva proposto di dargli ripetizioni sulle materie che lui stesso aveva studiato prima di aprire il suo studio a Bologna. E nessuno, nemmeno il suo coinquilino Remo, sapeva di come avesse aperto, con le cattive, gli occhi di Luca nei confronti di suo cugino Patrizio, che Emilio adorava con tutto il cuore. Tutti e tre i ragazzi erano indubbiamente bellissimi, carismatici e comunque, a loro modo, interessanti. Eppure non poteva accettare la loro corte. Perché Emilio Picani, trent'anni, ancora non si era deciso a fare coming out. Un po' per i genitori, ferventi cattolici al contrario di lui, ma soprattutto perché sorpresa sorpresa... Emilio Picani era timido. E prima del bar, i soli posti dove si sentiva a casa erano il suo studio e la sua camera, dove si circondava di memorabilia a tema cartoon ed anime, cose che lo appassionavano sin dall'adolescenza. Ed insomma, la sua timidezza, mista allo stereotipo degli omosessuali glitterati e pieni di piume a cui lo avevano abituato, lo avevano sempre tenuto in disparte da tutto il mondo legato ai gay, del quale lo psicologo non si sentiva parte. Aveva invidiato il suo piccolo cuginetto emiliano quando aveva ammesso di essere pansessuale, e sapeva benissimo che prima o poi, frequentando la compagnia di Patrizio, si sarebbe dovuto decidere anche lui, ad uscire dall'armadio. Quindi aveva declinato la dichiarazione di Romolo, proprio per quel motivo. Anche se non era proprio l'unico. Il secondo motivo era... poco più alto di lui. Aveva le spalle larghe, anche se spesso le teneva ricurve, togliendosi una decina di centimetri buoni. Aveva gli occhi di un verde intenso, quasi innaturale. Aveva i capelli rasati attorno alla testa ma un folto ciuffo al di sopra, che teneva indietro con un cerchietto giallo, palesemente il suo colore preferito. Rideva raramente, ma quando lo faceva, era una risata bassa, profonda, capace di scuotere lo stomaco del veronese.

Ed era veneto, come lui. Il suo secondo pezzo di casa, dopo Patrizio.

Emilio Picani, trent'anni, psicologo, omosessuale ancora nell'armadio. Ma completamente gay per Giuda Schiavon.

Ormai ne era convinto. Aveva cercato di negarlo, di dirsi che era solo una sua impressione, la sua immaginazione. Tutti, in quel bar, lo adoravano, ridevano con lui, si confidavano con lui, a volte per sciocchezze sentimentali, a volte per dei consulti più seri. Tommaso era suo paziente dal primo giorno che aveva aperto, finalmente, il suo studio, ed i due erano ormai uniti come fratelli. Era stato il primo a cui Emilio aveva confessato il suo orientamento sessuale. Tommaso lo aveva abbracciato e aveva mormorato: "Tranquillo che non lo ha capito nessuno." Avevano riso, ed il veronese aveva chiamato subito il cugino, che aveva promesso di non dirlo, per il momento, neanche alla sua dolce metà, Luca. Sfortunatamente, nemmeno Tommaso era riuscito a dissipare i dubbi di Emilio. Quei dubbi che ormai erano diventati certezze, in quei tre anni, ed avevano devastato lo psicologo. Giuda, il suo bellissimo, silenzioso, misterioso ed affascinante Giuda, non riusciva nemmeno a sopportare la vista del veronese. Non lo aveva mai trattato male, ma Emilio non poteva non notare come cambiava atteggiamento quando lui arrivava. Spesso lo guardava dalla vetrata del bar. Lo guardava per un bel pezzo, ridere e scherzare con tutti, persino con Virgilio, ed ormai riusciva a leggerne l'espressione senza sentirlo parlare, solo osservandolo. Quindi sapeva bene che era vera, la freddezza che dimostrava nei suoi confronti. Come i suoi occhi diventavano fessure, come le parole diventavano freddi sibili, raramente rivolti ad Emilio. Mai apertamente antipatico, ma incredibilmente glaciale. Ed a quanto pare, qualsiasi cosa dovesse fare in cucina, doveva sempre farla quando arrivava lui. Nessuno però sapeva di questa sua cotta, ad esclusione di Patrizio, che dopotutto lo leggeva come un libro aperto. E nemmeno Patrizio riusciva a comprendere il cambio di umore del veneziano, in presenza del cugino. Il giovane bolognese aveva cercato di convincere il cugino ad arrendersi, o almeno a parlare con lui, ed era proprio questo il motivo aveva spinto Emilio a ringraziare, complice un bicchiere di buon Millesimato di Conegliano, a parlare, forse per la terza volta in tre anni, Giuda ad alta voce nel bar. E questo aveva snervato talmente tanto il lavapiatti, che aveva fatto cadere il vassoio di bicchieri che aveva tra le mani. "Prego." Aveva sibilato il veneziano guardandolo, per la prima volta in tre anni, negli occhi. Ed un brivido aveva percorso il corpo di Emilio. Una scarica elettrica come non ne aveva mai provate prima. Accompagnata da un magone infinito per quanto era successo. Appena Giuda si era allontanato per prendere la scopa per spazzare, seguito a ruota da Remo, Emilio si era alzato in piedi ed aveva cercato di aggirare il bancone per tirare su i cocci, ma Tommaso lo aveva fermato. "Ti farai male. Ti tagli anche con la carta, cosa vuoi fare coi bicchieri?" "Ma... Giuda..." Tommaso aveva sospirato, e forse aveva compreso: "Giuda se la caverà. Non è mica la prima volta che fa piovere bicchieri. Forse dovrebbe calmarsi un po', non fosse stato così teso non li avrebbe fatti cadere. Non provarci nemmeno a pensare che sia colpa tua." Emilio aveva sospirato, togliendosi gli occhiali e scuotendo la testa. "Ma è colpa mia." Patrizio si era avvicinato, e gli aveva messo di nuovo la mano sulla spalla. Luca era dietro di loro, ed aveva proposto, pragmatico. "Emilio, vuoi uscire a prendere un po' d'aria?" Il veronese aveva annuito distrattamente, ed erano usciti. Nonostante l'occhiataccia di Patrizio, il veronese aveva in automatico estratto il suo pacchetto di cigarilli, e se ne era acceso uno. Mentre tirava dal sigaro in miniatura, aveva continuato a guardare dentro il bar. Ed aveva viso Giuda coi suoi guanti gialli, salire sul bancone e guardarsi attorno. Aveva... pianto? I suoi occhi, in particolare quello sinistro, erano tremendamente rossi. Il sospiro, indubbiamente di sollievo, emesso dal giovane veneziano seguito dalla mano sulla spalla di Remo, aveva devastato definitivamente il trentenne. Patrizio stava guardando la scena accanto a lui, ed aveva mormorato: "Sembra quasi che sia lui la vittima. Quando invece ha fatto tutto da solo. Che razza di falso..." "Patrizio, per favore...", aveva implorato il veronese. "Per favore cosa? È lui che ha fatto cadere i bicchieri, non tu. Tu lo hai solo ringraziato, Emi. Non capisco come fa a piacerti uno c...." Patrizio aveva spalancato gli occhi e si era tappato la bocca con una mano. Ma ormai il danno era fatto. Luca stava guardando entrambi con gli occhi spalancati come un cervo davanti a dei fari. Aveva guardato entrambi con fare sconvolto, Emilio che ormai si era arreso ed aveva iniziato a piangere silenziosamente, tirando dal cigarillo come un ossesso, Patrizio che continuava a sussurrare le sue scuse.

E si era schiarito ben bene la voce prima di chiedere, gentilmente nonostante l'accento duro tipico della sua regione: "Vuoi venire a casa nostra a bere un thè? Sono sicuro che riusciamo a saccheggiarne di quelli buoni di Romolo." Emilio aveva annuito, ed il ragazzo del cugino aveva preso entrambi sottobraccio, portandoli via dal Dolce&Remì. Il ragazzo aveva ridacchiato quando entrando, avevano sorpreso Virgilio e Romolo seduti sul divano uno addosso all'altro, a guardare Mulan in Bluray, asserendo di essersi addormentati e di non essersi accorti della posizione compromettente. Aveva osservato in silenzio Luca abbracciare Patrizio alle spalle, sussurrandogli qualcosa mentre il giovane emiliano preparava il thè per tutti. Ed aveva spalancato gli occhi terrorizzato quando sia il molisano che il romano, avevano confessato che si erano accorti della sua cotta per Giuda da probabilmente prima di quando Emilio lo aveva ammesso a sé stesso. La serata era passata in fretta, troppo in fretta, tra prese per i fondelli ad Emilio per la sua scelta discutibile (Romolo ce l'aveva particolarmente a morte, per ovvi motivi), e quando era stato il momento di tornare a casa, Emilio aveva pensato di restare a dormire nell'appartamento del cugino e dei suoi tre adorabili coinquilini. Ma sapeva bene che, in quello stesso palazzo, il suo coinquilino Remo stava rientrando. Quindi aveva baciato sulla fronte il cugino ed abbracciato forte gli altri tre, ed aveva preso l'ascensore per tornare a casa. Una volta aperta la porta, aveva trovato Remo guardare qualcosa al pc, al buio della sala da pranzo. "A Emì. Te ne sei scappato da tuo cugino? Giuda se voleva scusà per avette trattato come l'ultimo deji stronzi." Come no. Aveva proprio la faccia dispiaciuta. "Ma mi dovrei scusare io. Gli ho fatto distruggere i bicchieri e sono scappato. Porco can, mi sono comportato di merda. Spero non mi tiri addosso una sedia la prima volta che entro in bar." "Ma vaaaa. Giuda spacca i bicchieri, e non solo, più di quanto potrebbe mai ammettere!", aveva riso il romano, prima di sbadigliare rumorosamente ed alzarsi dalla sedia. "Ascolta... Volevo fare un qualcosa di carino al bar... Qualcosa che possa coinvolgere sia i giovani ma sia qualcosa di tipico. Se facessi un torneo di briscola, tu giocheresti?" "Porco can! Ma me lo chiedi? Adoro la briscola!" "Bella zì. Allora dai, che domani parlo con Tommy e vediamo il da farci. Guarda che se nun vieni a giocà te tolgo er saluto!" Emilio aveva annuito e Remo si era diretto in camera, un sorrisetto diabolico in faccia.

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tottwritesfanfic · 4 years

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Fanfic Authors Tag Game

Thankee for tagging @moramewhq

AO3 name(s): Tottwriter, [REDACTED] Fandoms: Haikyuu!!, Digimon (a little lapsed, but I still tinker with my WIPs!), sliiiightly BNHA, and I have a TUA wip which I will someday resume. I try not to venture into new fandoms but, you know...I fail. Number of fics: I have 56 posted works, but also, uh... a few which I haven’t gotten to posting yet.

1. Fic I spent the most time on:

Um. Oh jeez. I mean, I guess nothing has overtaken Hope’s Fire just yet, because that’s the monster. Hopefully nothing else will? XD

2. Fic I spent the least time on:

Well this is genuinely a toss-up, because I have a few which I wrote for 20 minute prompt game fills, and then hardly even bothered to edit before they were thrown up on Ao3 without a backward glance.

Annoyingly, some of them are among my most popular works.

3. Longest fic:

Hope’s Fire! As I said, it’s the monster, currently clocking in at ~144k. My longest completed fic is The Ocean’s Curse though, which is 62.4k!

4. Shortest fic:

Okay so my shortest fic is actually a bit of weird experimental stuff I wrote for Starbound, which you will note I did not list in the fandoms above, lol. It’s old and weird and 351 words long... I don’t think anyone wants to read it. You don’t want to read it.

5. Most hits:

Hope’s Fire! It’s not really surprising tbh, given how long ago I started it and how many chapters it has.

6. Most kudos:

Hope’s Fire wins this one too! I bet you’re all really shocked to learn this.

7. Most comment threads:

...imma give you lot one guess.

8. Favorite fic I wrote:

fuck. Er. I dunno? I mean I write because I like writing them, you know? But honestly if I have to narrow it down... Parallel for the ‘serious’ fics, and either Press Play or (Not) Moving On for my more lighthearted stuff. It’s hard to pick when I swing between such tone extremes!

9. Fic you want to re-write:

I mean this is probably gonna sound really dumb but...kinda also Hope’s Fire??

Hear me out tho, because it’s complicated (and also I sorta already am). This fic started in 2015. I love it wholeheartedly, and I keep coming back to tinker and I wish life would stop throwing so much shit in my way and let me devote a bit more time to fic-writing so I continue it properly.

But the periodic and spaced-out returns have meant that every time I knuckle down I end up re-reading the whole fic for continuity and tone reasons. You can probably see where this is going. Each time I read my old opening I cringe. It’s just not up to the standards of my writing today and it bugs me.

If I’m being brutally honest, part of the reason I haven’t updated it in so long is that I keep getting distracted going back and tweaking/fixing old chapters rather than focusing on new ones. It’s a bad habit but one I just can’t seem to kick.

10. Share bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on:

You know, I’m actually gonna give two. I’ll drop them below a cut because this got long, but I know I have both Digimon and HQ peeps here and it’s sucky to be in the fandom that doesn’t get the love. I can’t promise when I’ll manage to get either of these posted (I’m trying to avoid adding more works to my Ao3 until they’re actually, you know, finished) but...they exist!

First up, we have Fun and Games at the Adventure Cafe

Yes, this is exactly what you think it is:

The notice on the door said “HELP WANTED” in large, sensible font.

The addendum “Enquire Within” sat below it, equally formal.

Scribbled underneath in scruffy handwriting was just one more addition:

‘as in we’re hiring. dw we know what we’re doing.’

The notice on the door the following morning was back to plain old:

HELP WANTED Enquire Within

…It lasted half a day or so, at least.

As Sora remarked later, it was a wonder they got any applicants at all. Then again, as Taichi remarked, it wasn’t as though a lot of places were taking on extra staff—which was something of an oddity as the summer approached.

“It’s that swanky place round the corner,” he said with disgust, peering out of the window. “Bastards are driving everyone out of business.”

“But not you guys, right!” piped up their current interviewee. “You’re doing great! Honestly, as soon as I saw the sign I knew I had to apply. I’ve always wanted to start my own ramen business, and I figure I ought to start out with a popular place like this and get some real experience in the industry, you know?”

“Er, yes. Right,” Sora remarked, looking over his application. “Well, Daisuke, I will have to warn you that as a new hire you’d be working front-of-house rather in the kitchen, but if you’re okay with that—”

“Eh, just tell him he’s hired already,” Taichi replied, turning back to face them with a grin. “Yamato could definitely use a hand in the kitchen sometimes, so taking on a future all-rounder makes total sense.”

From the look Sora shot him, it perhaps didn’t, but Daisuke was already practically leaping to his feet with a grin, exclaiming that they could totally rely on him, and he absolutely would not let them down and could start the next day if they needed him to.

Next up, for my HQ peeps, here’s a little snippet from Connection Problems, my longtime langushing halfway chatfic. I’m not sharing the chatfic stuff because formatting tumblr is hell, though.

Kenma always suspected that being a third year would turn out to be a pain, but he’d rather hoped his fears wouldn’t be realised within the first few weeks of the school year. Really, it’s bad enough that Kuro, Yaku and Kai have left, and that everyone else nominated him for the role of Captain (he’d talked them down to being Vice Captain instead, but that, apparently, was as low as they were prepared to go). He does not need Taketora constantly pestering him about—of all things—a chat group as well.

“Come on, I thought you and Kuroo were like, joined at the hip or something! Don’t try and act like you don’t miss him now he’s at university.”

He shrugs. “I have a phone. We’re keeping in touch.” Because, really. That’s all that matters, isn’t it? Why does everyone have to complicate things so much?

“Yeah, but, it’s not the same, right? Besides, what the hell! You spend all that time on your phone as it is. And even Fukunaga joined, right?”

Kenma glances over at Shouhei, who nods, grinning sheepishly. Drat.

“Still, I don’t have that chat app you all use,” he says. “It’s too much trouble setting it up, when I can message Kuro just fine.”

That should have been the end of it. Any rational person would have seen that it was no good, and left him in peace. Kuro would have, certainly. Not pushing—never pushing, actually. Just nudging him along a little, and even then, only when it comes to volleyball. He’s learnt all of Kenma’s limits over the years.

But the thing is, Kuro isn’t there any more. It’s just himself, Taketora and Shouhei, and okay, Shouhei never pushes—he hardly ever says anything, for that matter. But Taketora is clearly some sort of demon and he, Kenma, is being punished. Maybe he really pissed someone off in a previous life. Maybe this is a penance so he can piss someone off in his next life with a free pass. Either way, the badgering doesn’t let up.

Kenma holds out until the 27th of May. Seven weeks of hassling is more than enough for anyone.

Aaaand for tagging how about: @ahiddenpath, @humandisasterbuckybarnes, @mooifyourecows

#tag memes #fanfiction stuff #Hope's Fire #once again the author gets waaay too carried away #also if you wanna know my other ao3 you should probably DM me and also be over 18 #because *coughs*

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jadeile-writes · 4 years

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Let’s talk about my newest fic spree because I wanna

First Imma talk Zelda. Hazbin will be discussed after. I’ll bold the first line of it so it’s easy to skip there if you’re so inclined.

But Zelda now.

Nobody has actually expressed any concerns about it, but I’m going to imagine that someone is losing sleep over this because it makes me feel important and stuff. And by "it”, I mean the “Shiiiit, she’s jumping fandoms, she is definitely going to abandon all things Zelda now and Adventure Gone Mini will never be finished and also the fandom will probably somehow combust without her, halp!”

That’s a valid concern. That happens a lot with writers, fanartists, and other content creators (and non-creators, but that’s less panic-worthy for most people). So, let me reassure you: I admit I’m a lot less enthusiastic about Mini nowadays, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to abandon it this easily. It started as and still is a passion project, and I’ve actually managed to write it consistently for over a year now, which is unheard of with me.

I’ve admittedly occasionally considered taking a break from it, but I’m well aware that if I stop writing it for any amount of time, chances are I’ll procrastinate getting back to it until eventually it’s officially forever unfinished. I’m not willing to risk that, which was actually the reason why I stopped publishing a new chapter every two weeks and switched to three weeks a few months ago. That way my flagging enthusiasm got balanced by having more time to get it done without it being a chore. That works really well, too. I can certainly keep this up since it’s already a routine and I do actually know where the story is going and everything. All I need to do is write it. Sometimes it’s boring and uninspired, sometimes I’m hella happy doing it, but the bottom line is that I’m able to do it regardless of my mood for it.

I’m not sure if I’ll do the Mini sequel I’ve occasionally talked about in my comment replies. It may just be that I’ll sigh out of relief when I’m finally done with Mini and decide to simply let it go. I can’t say yet. I mean, the sequel wouldn’t be anything much anyway, just revisiting the characters and places, having Zelda drop by, a peek at Sidon’s magical training, stuff like that, probably in the form of drabble chapters. So it wouldn’t really be that hard to write, but I can’t estimate my inspiration for it at this point. We shall see. It’s still months away, since Mini is far from done.

I’m not sure if I’ll really get back to that Revalink fic I’ve advertised in my blogs here and at Ko-fi, even if I don’t yet actually feel like dropping it. I mean, it’d be a breath of fresh air anyway, since it’s a different ship and timeline (as in, before Calamity). So who knows.

I’m reasonably sure I won’t be starting any new Sidlink fics, though that’s partly because I’ve already explored the ship so thoroughly with the fics I have that it’d feel repetitive. So that’s one thing you shouldn’t hold your breath for. I’m sorry.

As for the fandom as a whole... There’s the sequel to BotW coming up, so it just might toss me right back into the fandom right when I feel like I’m done being super active here (for the record, I typically don’t really leave fandoms forever, I just stop being obsessed). So, there’s still solid hope for more BotW fics in the future. But for now I’m definitely only doing Mini, and then my other fandoms on the side.

Oh, speaking of that. Yes, I’m writing hella lot of fics for Hazbin Hotel, and it might feel like I’m neglecting Mini by using my time for these other fics instead, but that’s not the case. I still have my weekly regular writing hour dedicated to Mini alone; no other fic is being written at that particular slot of time, and Mini keeps being steadily written. The other fics are written at random times, and that time would not be spent on writing Mini even if I stopped writing the other fics. I’d probably just use that time playing Pokémon Sword instead or reading other people’s fanfics or watching youtube or something. So, no need for jealousy or worry there.

Now, let’s talk Hazbin Hotel.

If you’re following me on ffnet or AO3, or simply keep an eye on the new Hazbin fics in general, you may have noticed that I published the first chapter of Aceducation yesterday. The next chapter will be published tomorrow. Yay! And the last chapter will be up this Thursday. Excite!

I’m actually very proud of the fact that I got a grip and wrote the last chapter that quickly after promising I’d get it done soon.

...Yes, of course there is an ulterior motive for being so prompt about it.

And that motive is that I want to start publishing “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”, or Afterlife for short, soon. I mean, since I plan on publishing one chapter a week, I already have a buffer of seven weeks at hand (yes, I finished chapter six today, so there is no longer an awkward gap between chapters there). That’s a long time to be used to write more, and also a long time for me to wait for my readers to catch up to the new stuff cause I’m excited about everything and I want you guys to see it : | So, I don’t want to wait any longer.

I don’t want to be wasteful about my general fic output by publishing all the fics at once, tho, so I needed to get the shorter fic, Aceducation, out of the way. That is, unless I wanted to hold onto it until after Afterlife was done, which would be months away with the once-a-week-and-over-ten-chapters schedule. Hence, suddenly a lot of motivation to get it done and published asap XD

Now, the question on your mind should be “Okay, so when do we get the first chapter of Afterlife?” And I have already decided on the answer: 6th of December.

Why that date? Multiple reasons. Starting with the fact that Aceducation will take until Thursday to be fully published, and I’m not publishing both fics at once. Secondly, since I update this blog on Saturdays, I want to hold on publishing the first chapter of Afterlife until after the next Saturday, purely so that I can officially put the posting date on the Update blog and post a spoiler snippet of the first chapter here before the actual publishing. Thirdly, and this is a long game reason, because of my Zelda epic, Adventure Gone Mini. I update Mini every three weeks on Wednesdays. Now, Sunday and Monday would be viable options for a weekly updating of another chapter fic, but I just don’t wanna. Tuesday is not an option, because then I’d be flooded with Hazbin feedback on Wednesday and that’d distract me from Mini (although that’s what I’m doing with Aceducation right now, ironically enough). Thursday I’ll be receiving feedback from Mini, so that’d be distracting me from Afterlife. But Friday works well long term, so Friday it is : D

If you feel like you can’t wait that long for the first chapter of Afterlife... well, I have it worse, trust me. I’m dying to post right this damn second XD That damn itch started the moment I finished writing chapter six today and was like “Huh, now I have seven consecutive chapters done. That’s seven weeks of content, and took me maybe two weeks to write. I now have seven weeks to write the rest of this fic, and obviously every finished chapter will bump that by one more week. ... ... why aren’t I already publishing the first chapter so that my future readers can start reading already agdakhdgkagdkga!!”

So yeah, I suppose that’s all I have to say. And this essay is about 1400 words long, which I would happily publish as a oneshot or a chapter if this was a fanfic. Can’t I stop being a writer for one damn second? Heh, see you around, my lovely readers!

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thatgirlunderarock · 6 years

Text

Helpless~ Durin Family Hobbit fanfic

Dís doesn’t think she’ll find love at her first ball, but she can’t help it if someone catches her eye early in the night. Things get difficult when big brothers Thorin and Frerin decide to step in.

or as my lovely beta reader @tessmariano described it: Frerin is angelica comin at blonde dude like “imma bout to change your life" and then yeets him at Dís

This fic is based off Hamilton’s “Helpless”

Read on AO3

Can be read as a prequel to “Old and New Memories”

As always I hope you enjoy!

Dís was never one to really enjoy her grandmother’s and grandfather’s parties. Mostly they consisted lots of music that filled the large chambers of the mountain, dancing that would go from dusk till dawn, beautiful dwarven ball gowns, guests from the Blue Mountains, Iron Hills, and even some of the neighboring kingdoms. And she would be stuck watching from the upper levels of Hall of the Kings. It was even more grand when the party was to celebrate the last days of summer. With all the festivities, how could she not want to go? Seventy-five years old and Thraín was still reluctant to let her go. Even Thorin, her frumpy older brother, who really didn’t like parties, could be seen laughing with Dwalin as they raided the food tables of desserts and watched Frerin attempt to flirt with visiting Dwarrows. It wasn’t like her brothers were that much older than her, no more than ten maybe fifteen years older, that was nothing! Her mother, Ásdís, says it’s only because Thraín clearly recalls his own habits from when he was younger.

“I don’t think that’s much of an excuse now Ummadud1,” Dís sighed as she flopped back onto her bed, her mother sitting at the writing desk in the corner.

“I know Mabannamûna2,” Princess Ásdís starts, “Your father is just well, I don’t think I’m wrong to say he’s a bit over protective-“

“He just doesn’t want me to see him drink too much. He realizes I’m not going to be glued to your sides right? I’d rather bother Frerin or push Thorin into the women eyeing him-” Hearing herself say that out-loud, Dís was starting to realize there was likely her not being allowed to attend had to do with that. One quick glance at her mother’s stern but amused look confirmed that.

“Okay, I understand. I won’t do anything like that! I’ll be a proper princess, stuffy shoes and all. I won’t take them off, as soon as the music starts this time. And grandfather hasn’t invited the Elves, so there another thing Uddadud doesn’t have to worry about- Oh I’ve been childish about it this whole time, haven’t I?” Dís could feel the warmth spreading in her cheeks, even if she knew her grandparents got a kick out of her antics with her brothers.

Ásdís just smiled at her daughter and moved to sit on the bed. Moving slowly she lifted Dís’ head so that it rested in her lap, her daughter’s long brown hair falling in waves across her lap as she combed her fingers through her hair and began to weave the dark strands. “No, little one, that’s not why. Your father is just afraid to admit that his little girl is all grown now. More than a little mischievous at times, but we’ve been bless to see you grow into the mountain’s most precious gem. He just dreads the day he’ll have to give you away-”

Dís laughed, “I love you Ummadud, but Uddadud is just being silly if he thinks one party is going to make a difference. I’m not going to get married after one night of dancing!”

“No, I know,” Ásdís starts, “But you never know. That’s how your father and I met after all.”

Dís looked up at her mother, knowing by the little smile on her face that she was thinking about that first meeting. Dís probably knew the story better than either of her brothers, then again it probably had to do with how their mother told it compared to their father. Thraín used it as a warning to Thorin and Frerin about not doing anything foolish or embarrassing, because they would never know who was watching. It only kind of worked though; Thorin was too anxious to do anything to mess up or draw too much attention to himself, and Frerin figured bring all the attention to himself was the best way to meet someone, and Dís found new motivation to tease both brothers. Ásdís on the other hand would tell her children purely to share one of her favorite memories of her first few weeks in Erebor. Embarrassing her husband was only slight perk.

Just as Dís was about to ask for the story when there was a light knock at the door. She sat up and watched as her mother went to answer the door. There stood Æsa, Dís’ handmaiden, holding a light blue dress with gold trimming that spilled out of her arms as she walked through the door frame. “This was the right dress, Princess?” she asked to Ásdís.

“Yes, Thraín thought his daughter might like this one,” Her mother started giving a small smile to Dís. “She’ll be entering with her brothers for the feast.”

Dís looked down at the plate of meat and bread in front of her, grease from the meat and started to soak into the dinner roll along with the gravy the cook had decided to put over the chuck. It smelled amazing, and had she not been so focused on the blond haired dwarf sitting down across from Frerin she would have dug into it just as eagerly as the rest of the table. She couldn’t decide why he looked so familiar, his blond braids falling to his shoulders and even framing his lips,his blond peach stubble felt like a veil hiding someone so familiar. His name was right on the tip of her tongue. Had Æsa been there, Dís would have just leaned over and asked, but seeing that the former was sitting with the rest of the family servants, all she did was stare dumbly and occasionally drink from her wine goblet, or shove part of her dinner roll in her cheeks whenever he looked up or over at her. Then again. it was bold of her to assume he was looking at her, when her brothers sat on either side of her as well…

“Anai3, you’ve been stuffing yourself with bread and wine, you’re going to be sick before the kitchens bring out the ale and dessert,” Thorin mumbled behind his own goblet to Dís before following her gaze to the Dwarrow sitting across from their brother. “Unless you already have your sights on-“

“Shut up Thorin!” Dís hissed under her breath, much to her brother’s amusement.

When music finally started up Dís found herself with Æsa munching on cakes and biscuits near the dessert table watching the festivities unfold through the music and dance. Her grandparents stood at the far end near the tables still, but dancing to the music, still lost in their own little world. On the other end, her mother was successfully persuading her father to dance, though both trying go unnoticed by the other merry makers. Frerin, though surrounded by Dwarrows eager for a chance to dance with him, was gesturing over to Thorin and Dwalin to join him from some other corner of the hall Dís could not see.

Despite seeing all of this, Dís could not see the one dwarf she was looking for. She would have thought that after staring at him all through dinner she would have been able to pick him out from the crowd.

It felt like her heart dropped straight into her stomach. Maybe Thorin had been right and she should have paced herself on the wine. When the saw the familiar blond head of hair walk in with Dwalin, and a few others she couldn’t put names to in that moment, it felt like the whole hall was spinning to sounds of the fiddles. She was about to steady herself on the edge of the table when she felt hands on both her shoulders.

“I told you not to drink so much wine,” Thorin teased from her right.

“Right, because our little sister can’t hold her wine,” Frerin joined in on the left. “I don’t think its the wine, making her feet fall from under her.”

“Frerin-” Dís started.

“Maybe but she didn’t eat much at dinner,” Thorin interrupted.

“Didn’t she? Guess, you see when she snatched my roll off my plate?”

“No, was that before or after she missed her plate trying to cut the meat- ”

“You two are unbearable!” Dís finally exclaimed before they could keep going on about dinner. She leaned against Thorin, her cheek squished against his shoulder. “Yes, there’s a boy! The one that was sitting across from you, Frerin,” Dís sighed. “He looks familiar, I don’t know why. He’s not related right? That would be more embarrassing. Did we all have the same tutor? No… I just-” She closed her eyes in frustration that she was getting so flustered over a dwarf she didn't even know.

“Dís?”

She sighed, “What Thorin?”

“Are you talking to me, or Frerin?”

“Both of you… What why? Is Frerin not here?” she asked standing up straighter and looking around for her other brother.

“He's over there,” Thorin answered casually and gestured to where their brother was talking to the blond haired dwarf.

“Oh”

Dis felt her stomach do some kind of weird flip, like it tossed her heart back into place. She couldn't decide if she felt sick from what little food she ate or if it had something with her brother talking to the dwarf. She couldn't, shouldn't even be upset. She didn't even know who he was! And she didn't know what her brother was doing. He likely wasn't doing anything but talking. Frerin talked to a lot of people. But he didn’t always grab people by the arm when he was talking to them. That was new.

And then the dwarf looked back at her.

Suddenly, the air was sucked right out of Dís’ lungs and her heart was in her throat. She wanted to hide behind Thorin. She wanted to run back up to her room and lock the door, but all she did was freeze and lean heavily against Thorin as she tried to stay on her feet. “Durin let me rest,” she mumbled under her breath and earning a stunned look from her brother.

“Don’t say that while you’re leaning on me,” Thorin muttered as he tried to set her back upright. His brows stayed furrowed as he steadied his little sister, and took a small step to the side of her.

He was right! She couldn’t let herself fall to pieces, especially while he was looking at her. Dís quickly stood up took a deep breath and puffed out her chest a little as he adjusted her dress. She looked to Thorin and then glanced back over her shoulder not actually seeing if her brother and the other dwarf were still there.

Dís would have seen Frerin walking him over to her with teasing, “I'm about to change your life.”

“By all means lead the way.”

As it where it was not until the two stopped right in front of her that she noticed him again. Dís looked up into the light brown eyes of her mystery dwarf trying to figure out what to say. She could have said anything, her name for starters. Dís daughter of Thrain, would have been a good place to start, if she had remembered to do anything other than open her mouth and mutter “Uhh...”

“Vígi, it’s good to see you again, how was your journey back from the Iron hills?” Thorin asked stepping up behind his dumbfounded sister.

Vígi. As in Vígi the son of the Captain of Guard? As in Vígi the son of the Captain of the Guard who left Erebor twenty years ago to train with his cousins in the Iron Hills? Twenty years and he still only had the little prickles of a beard. How he got the mustache to grow at all was a mystery to her. The little twinkle that seemed to shine in his eyes as he looked at her was new too. Had that always been there?

Well, at least she knew why he looked so familiar.

“...good to be home though. Dís, I see twenty years has only made your smile brighter.”

Had she been smiling this whole time? It was good smile though right? Not one with a lot of teeth, or stiff, or showed how many little flips her heart was doing in her chest. A small giggle escaped Dís. She blinked a few times trying to clear her head of the twinkle in his eyes as he waited for her answer. Still it was hard to think when her brothers were throwing little grins her way.

“Thank you Vígi. That means a lot to me, considering twenty years as done little to make my brothers more pleasant.”

“Well, then should I rescue my lady and plan our escape to the dance floor?” He asked with a wink and offering his hand to Dís.

She didn’t hesitate to grab his hand and let him lead her away from her snickering brothers. For once she was glad she hadn’t kicked off her shoes. She was tall enough to comfortably rest her head on Vígi’s shoulder as he held her close into the night.

Thanks for reading!

1. Mommy/ Daddy

2. “she who continues to become more beautiful”

3. Sister

Special thanks to the Dwarrow Scholar for all their resources that have been more than helpful to me and I know many other fic writers!

#hobbit fanfiction #Hobbit fanfic #Thorin Oakenshield #Dis #Frerin #Durin family #Hamilton inspired #Helpless #The Hobbit

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