#ive drawn so much of these guys i might make it an actual au or something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

let-it-raines · 4 years

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CS Fic Rec Monday

I hope you’re all staying safe and inside as much as physically possible! I said I was going to do this weeks ago, but I finally remembered to queue it all up! Here are some dang good multi-chapter fics you can curl up with! You’ve probably already read them if you’ve been around for awhile, but rereading is fun, too! Plus, I know these writers would get excited to see a new comment or two 😘

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As Real As You Want it To Be by @ive-always-been-a-pirate: Teaching at the same school as Killian Jones was both infuriating and distracting, but when he throws Emma under the bus for the final time, she devises a plan to get back at him. After all, nobody likes to go to a wedding alone. Time for some CS AU fake dating.

Warm Nights and Firelight by @oubliette14: When in the wake of a messy breakup Emma makes the impulsive decision to return home to her parent's ranch in the Rockies, she certainly doesn't expect to find a strange Irish guy living in what was once her apartment over the garage, and she definitely doesn't imagine that the home she couldn't wait to be rid of five long years ago would be the very place her heart begins to heal.

If Looks Could Kill by @wellhellotragic: Emma Swan is a dedicated FBI agent getting over a bad breakup. When she and her partner, Ruby Lucas, are forced to go undercover as contestants on a reality show, Emma is forced to try and win the affections of Killian Jones, a man she despises.Killian Jones is a lost boy. Having recently been nicknamed the ‘Bad Boy of Boston,’ he’s been living up to his moniker using women and rum to avoid dealing with his dark past. When he’s forced to take the lead in a reality show, he encounters a gorgeous blonde who turns his world upside down. Miss Congeniality meets The Bachelor.

The Reason by @xemmaloveskillianx: The three of them share a laugh before they all look to Emma. She has yet to comment on the new addition because she isn’t sure what to say. She usually doesn’t like change, they have a good thing going there, just the four of them. Plus, they all know him and she doesn’t, but she trusts their judgement, and she’s sure any brother of Liam can’t be all that bad.So, with a shrug and a smile she says, “Welcome to Storybrooke, Killian Jones.

The Wife by @ineffablecolors: No one knows all that Emma has been through and certainly no one knows all that Killian has been through and being husband and wife doesn’t make them any less unknown to each other. And really, how can you help someone heal when you don’t even know how hurt they are?

Beauty in the Aftermath by @high-seas-swan: Confronted with the sudden appearance of her birth parents, Emma, in a moment of panic, flees. She flees the diner, Storybrooke, the country. She finds herself a day later in the Dublin, Ireland Airport terminal wondering what the hell she has gotten herself into. With some fear, a little determination and a considerable amount of faking it along the way, she sets off on a trip she never planned on taking but needed more than she ever knew. She finds herself, she finds a Brit adrift on his own journey and finds out what home really means.

Playing the Part by @shireness-says: As a stage manager who's clawed her way up from the bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU.

Love, Kindness, and Other Useless Things by @joneskillian: CS AU, set in 1815. Lord Killian Jones is haunted by the demons of his past which makes him nowhere near the man he once was, so he can't be the father he wants to be. And above all, he believes he is undeserving of love. Perhaps with Emma that is all about to change. But falling in love is never easy, that's just how it is.

Something Like You Love Me by @bemusedbicycle: Emma decides the best way to get Mary Margaret off her back about Walsh is to say she already has a boyfriend. Except she doesn’t. That’s where Killian comes in. Fake!Engagement fic.

a one time thing (and other untruths) by @weezlywrites: "She supposes the reason she tells him is the same reason she kept his phone number after all those weeks." Pregnancy has a way of throwing a wrench in one's plans.

Alone, until I get Home by @peglegsjones: In Boston, Henry Swan's six-year-old brother Ian finds a book titled "Once Upon a Time" hidden beneath the seat in their mom's old yellow bug. As soon as Henry touches it, he remembers.Season 3 Canon Divergence-Emma finds out she's pregnant a few weeks after she and Henry leave Storybrooke with new memories and new lives. Nearly seven years later, another Dark Curse puts her family in danger, and Emma must return to Storybrooke to help them.Who's powerful enough to cast the Dark Curse? And how the hell is she going to tell Hook they have a son together?

Knock, Knock by @charmingturkeysandwich: Emma Swan has made the best of her crappy apartment ever since she became best friends with her neighbor, Ruby. But when Ruby moves out and a loud Brit takes her place, the thin walls and lack of space are suddenly not so endearing. After a particularly stressful day, Emma decides to confront the nightmare next door, and entirely against her better judgment, she might just be making a friend.

These Nights Aren’t Made For Thinking by @nowforruin: AU. Emma Swan came to Portland, ME to start over. She's got a job she loves, but when a particular case gets under her skin, she finds herself visiting the Jolly Roger and its curious bartender, Mr. Killian Jones, more often than she thinks is wise. But some nights aren't made for thinking. Captain Swan.

On the Two by @lifeinahole27: He’s one bad trip from ending up in AA, and she’s one performance away from a solid job and moving closer to home. Their paths were unlikely to cross until Camp Hope brought them together. How and why they meet and intertwine is against the odds, and definitely against the rules, but will that really stand in their way? A Dirty Dancing inspired modern au.

Separate Lives by @lenfaz: Set after 3x20 "Kansas". After saving the town one more time, Emma decided to return to New York, leaving her past behind. Three years later, she realizes that might be not have been the best decision.

Natural Opposite by @searchingwardrobes: Dance is more than Emma Swan’s career; it’s practically saved her life on more than one occasion. But when it comes to reality TV shows, she’s always danced in the shadows of her twin brother David and her sister Elsa. Her first season as a pro on Dancing With the Stars was a disaster, and she enters her second season determined to prove herself. All she needs is a good partner. Hollywood bad boy and ladies’ man Killian Jones isn’t what she had in mind.

Walking in a Straight Line by @msgenevievee: It’s one of the oldest stories in the book. Two old friends have a few too many drinks, two old friends share a kiss. Happens all the time, right? But what happens when only one of them actually remembers it?

Out of the Frying Pan by @welllpthisishappening: Emma Swan is only doing this for one reason, well, make that two. To get her show's numbers back up and, maybe, impress her son. She doesn't like admitting to that second one though.Killian Jones is doing this for absolutely, positively, just one reason. To expand his restaurant. And maybe get Regina off his back. So that's kind of two reasons.Neither one of them is doing a year-long Food Network all-star competition because they're celebrity chefs and there's not really any other choice. Of course not. And neither one of them is enjoying it because they maybe, kind of, sort of enjoy each other. That would be insane.

A Cold Awakening by @swanderful1: Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

Beyond the Horizon by @alexandralyman: AU: When Princess Emma's ship is captured by the Jolly Roger and Captain Killian Jones, she offers herself as a hostage for ransom if he will let the ship and the other passengers go. With Emma, Killian remembers the honour he once held dear, and Emma catches glimpses of the gentleman Killian had been. Against all odds, the pirate and the princess begin to fall for each other.

#csfrm #cs fic rec #cs fic #cs ff rec #Captain Swan #queue poetic noble land mermaid

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pixieposts · 3 years

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Febuwhump Day 14

AO3

Today's prompt was technically “I didn’t mean it” but I didn’t have any solid ideas for it, so instead I went with Alt 9: Gunpoint. I know this is after the gunshot part, but I had an idea, and I ran with it😅. This also takes place inside a Modern!AU that I haven’t posted yet... Soooooo if you read it again act surprised I guess? 😂😂

TW’s:

Major Character Injury

Warning: Trent Ikithon

Brief Description of Injury

Fjord looked up in surprise at the quiet knocking, almost uncertain if he had imagined it. Most of his friends didn’t bother to knock... the only one he could think of was Caleb (despite having a key), but he had only left about an hour ago. He stood as the knocking sounded again, setting down his tea and making his way to the door. He smiled when he opened it and saw the familiar ginger man standing on the stoop.

“Hey there Cay, I didn’t expect you back till morning, miss me that much?”

He felt the teasing grin drop off his face when he realized just how pale Caleb looked... taking in his expression Fjord reached out to pull him inside. Caleb winced, but followed him, leaning back against the door when it closed behind him. Fjord felt the panic rising in his chest as he got a good look at Caleb in the light. His breathing was rapid and shallow, his face sickly pale and pained. He was clutching his hip under his coat and let out a gasp when Fjord jostled the fabric. The scent of blood overwhelmed him for a moment, and he thought he might be sick.

“Caleb what- what the fuck?”

“Trent, or one of his guys” Caleb forced another deep breath “shot-shot me, I would have gone home but-” He stopped, panting slightly as he held up his blood coated hand “I- I didn’t know what else to do”

“Fuck, no it’s- You need and ambulance Cay”

Fjord led him to the kitchen, trying to support as much of his weight as possible. The moment Caleb was seated in the large kitchen chair Fjord whipped out his phone and dialed the emergency number.

“What is your emergency?”

“Ambulance, we need an ambulance, my friend he- we need help, he's been shot and we need help”

Fjord could hear the panic in his voice now as Calebs eyelids drooped, the hand on his hip was going lax where it needed to be maintaining pressure.

“Address?”

“Cay you need- yes sorry it’s 23 Spire Square- put pressure darlin’ please”

The woman was talking again, but he barely registered it as he moved to grab a clean kitchen towel and pressed it up against the bullet wound. Caleb’s eyes were completely closed now, and Fjord wasn’t sure if he was awake or had actually passed out.

“Sir? Sir I understand this is difficult, the ambulance is almost there, and I need you to unlock the door”

“It’s unlocked, I never- I didn’t get around to re-locking it”

The paramedics arrived and lifted Caleb from the chair onto a stretcher. Fjord felt the bile rise in his stomach at the way Caleb’s head lolled, he was sweating, he was so pale. The ambulance ride was a blur of tearing clothing and beeping machines. One of the paramedics tried to ask him what had happened, but he had nothing to give them other than Trent’s name. The wound was horrible, once the medics had it cleaned off Fjord could see that there was more than one awful hole in Caleb’s skin.

He had to look away.

He watched Caleb’s face instead, watching the way it twitched, taking some small comfort in the fact that it hadn’t stopped. The fact that he was breathing.

When they arrived at the hospital there was a team waiting, they took Caleb and one woman stopped him at a pair of swinging doors

“You can’t come past here dear, you need to wait in the waiting room”

“Please, please I have to- he needs me, I need to be with him”

He knew he should be embarrassed by the way he pleaded, but at this point he couldn’t make himself care. He needed to be with Caleb, he needed to make sure he was okay.

“I’m sorry, really, but he’s in good hands with the doctors okay? The best thing you can do for him now is wait here. What’s your name honey, is there someone you can call?”

Can I help? Is there someone I can call?

His own voice rang through his head, all those months ago. He nodded at the nurse, still staring over her shoulder as if he could see through the doors through sheer force of will.

“I’m Fjord”

“What’s his name dear, he didn’t have ID”

“Caleb, his names Caleb”

“Okay” she led him to a hard plastic chair from which he could still see the doors “call someone, we’ll take care of him and send someone for you when he’s out of the surgery okay?”

He nodded and watched her walk quickly through the swinging doors, the panic had faded into an uncomfortable numbness. Caleb was back there, he was back there with lead in his body, in pain, and Fjord couldn’t help.

Finally, after what could have been a few minutes, or an hour, he picked up his phone and dialed.

“Fjord? If this is you calling to say Caleb is sleeping over again-”

“Veth”

Something in his tone stopped her immediately, a worried hum was the only response.

“Caleb’s- Caleb was shot”

“He was what? Where are you? Is he okay?”

Veth’s panic broke through the fog in his mind, and he shook his head before remembering that she couldn’t see him.

“He- well he was breathing when I-” he forced himself to take a breath “hospital, we’re at the hospital, the doctors took him, they wouldn’t... I couldn’t go in with him”

“I’m on the way”

The click of her hanging up the phone was too loud, but he nodded and slipped his own phone back into his pocket. All he could do now was wait.

Veth arrived quickly, so quickly that Fjord would realize later that she must have driven like a mad woman, but in the moment, he was just relieved to have someone else there. They didn’t speak, she just sat next to him and joined him in staring at the doors. At some point her small hand landed on his, and he was thankful for the contact, though he didn’t have the words to say it.

Finally, what Fjord would later be told was about two hours after they had arrived, an elvish man in scrubs walked out the doors. He paused for a moment before he found Fjord and Veth and walked over. Fjord's heart was pounding again as he tried to read the mans expression, looking for something to indicate that all was well or... or not.

“Fjord?”

He stood, and the doctor held out his hand. Fjord took it briefly as he nodded, Veth standing and introducing herself as well.

“I’ll start by saying that Caleb is in recovery”

Fjord felt the air go out of his lungs all at once as he dropped back into the seat, relief washing through him. The doctor gave him a moment before continuing.

“The bullet entered his right hip and lodged in his left thigh; he was incredibly lucky that it missed both femoral arteries. It was a narrow miss in the left leg... but a miss still. We managed to get the bullet out, along with some bone shards from where it nicked his hip-bone.”

Fjord nodded along, trying to get his breathing under control again.

“You can come back and see him, but he’s under some fairly heavy anesthetic so he’ll be out for a while”

Fjord stood immediately and squeezed when he felt Veth take his hand. The doctor led them down a series of halls into a much quieter ward of the hospital. It occurred to Fjord as they passed a darkened window just how late it was. He needed to call Caduceus, there was no chance he would make his shift. The doctor opened a door into what would only be considered a typical hospital room. The lights had been lowered to a soft glow, and the blinds on the windows were drawn. The nurse from earlier was blocking Fjords view of the bed as she fiddled with one of the machines before nodding to herself and turning around. She offered him a soft smile, but the best he could manage in response was a grimace.

“The chairs pull out, they’re not the most comfortable but it’s better than sleeping sitting up” she said softly, patting his arm as she left.

“If you have any questions, myself or another doctor will be in to check on him in a few hours. If he wakes before that the blue button behind the bed will call the nurse's station”

“Thank you, doctor,” Veth’s voice was gentle, and a little scratchy.

“Get some rest”

As if.

Fjord pulled the chairs up to the side of the bed, feeling his chest ache at the sight that greeted him. Caleb was sleeping, long lashes fanned across familiar freckled cheekbones. He was still pale, but the sickly sheen was gone, and if Fjord hadn’t known any better, he would have thought nothing was wrong. Someone had changed him into a hospital gown, and a voice in the back of Fjord’s head noted that they would need something to take him home in. The blanket bulged slightly where Fjord assumed the gauze pad sat on his hip, and the bandaging was wrapped around his thigh.

It was a near miss

Gods. If the bullet had hit his artery... Fjord shivered and sat down, sliding his hand under Caleb’s on the sheets to avoid messing with the IV sticking out of the top. His poor hands, both attached to the clear medical tubes leading to the odd bags of... whatever they were. Anti-biotics maybe? Pain medication certainly. He was never letting Caleb out of his sight again.

No, that was crazy.

But... if he had driven him home, if he had insisted on it instead of giving in to Calebs claim that it wasn’t worth wasting gas...

At the very least, he wouldn’t be walking home for a while.

Veth took his free hand, her eyes locked on Caleb’s face, and together they waited.

#febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday14 #warning: trent ikithon #brief description of injury #major character injury

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is0gild · 4 years

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WHY I SHIP IT

You know the whole "Opposites Attract" trope? Yeah, that. I'm weak for that. A total slut for opposites attracting. Turns my knees to jelly. It's my crack. Just stick that shite into an IV straight to my veins! And these two? Got opposites coming out the wazoo!

Ice and Fire. Duh.

Introvert and extrovert. Quiet, shy girl with snarky, outgoing guy? Unf, that murders me with feels. To be fair, Elsa is not a TOTAL recluse - she’s a total sweetheart who can still hold a friendly conversation, but she's hardly the life of the party attention whore. No, that'd be THAT guy *points to lovable fire dork*

Light (Princess of Heart just trying to do her best) and Dark (Former-Nobody with a redemption arc). PS, to any Frozen fans who might be confused, “Princess of Heart” and “Nobody” are Kingdom Hearts terms - either see my Axel/Lea Cliff Notes for further deets or consult your nearest, handy-dandy KH glossary of terms.

Highborn Queen and Sly Assassin. Oof, it almost sounds so deliciously forbidden when you put it that way. Me like.

She tends to be Ms Glass-Half-Empty and he tends to be Mr Glass-Half-Full. Put there 2 half glasses together tho and you get a full glass ;D Was that hella cheesy? Yup! Think I care? Nope! Now don’t get me wrong, neither of them 100% own up to those titles - she has MORE than her fair share of bright moments, as he too has his Sad Boi™ moments. Still, they do both have a tendency to lean into those nicknames and boy howdy would it be cute watching him be the one bring a smile to her face when she’s down :3

She smol, he tol. Like, for real... he's one seriously tall boi. No official heights out there as far as I’m aware, but fan calculations put Elsa at 5'4" and Axel/Lea at either 6'4" or 6'7" (from two different sources, two different fans, take your pick). Either way, he's got at least a foot on her and just... oof! I swoon! I know, this is mega superficial, but I really don't care. It's aesthetically pleasing to me. These 2 very beautiful peeps being put together is just in general aesthetically pleasing to me.

OPPOSITES!

ATTRACTING!

Doesn't always work, but when it's done well, it can be so beautiful T_T Just love the idea of two personalities so different but that complement and balance each other out so well and help make up for what the other lacks! Ahhh, opposites attracting... that's how I wanna die *wistful, far-off, starry-eyed look*

ANYWAY! It's not all about the opposites! These two actually have a lot in common too!

They're both royal dumbasses that would (and legit DID) sacrifice themselves for their loved ones without hesitation!

They're both brave! Okay, it takes a bit of time for Elsa to come into her own courage, but by Frozen 2, our ice queen's got it in GODDAMN SPADES YO!

They’re both silly dorks with sassy, playful sides! Fire Boi wears his dorkitude on his sleeve whereas Ice Bab is a lil more shy about showing hers, but trust me, I could write a whole friggin' ESSAY on that side of her just lousy with examples! ...but I'll refrain from doing that here for the sake of not turning this "why I ship it" bit into instead being "an ode to Elsa's silliness" :P

He's an impulsive lil shit! She is too, but her impulsiveness is slightly, mind you SLIGHTLY more tempered. She'd probably do some good in reeling the big doofus in from time to time. That said, he'd still end up probably dragging her off on many adventures that she would only put on a show of mildly resisting.

Leading into my next point: they're both adventurous! C'mon, Elsa has a whole damn song about being drawn to the unknown! While Axel/Lea, well... that boy could change his self-proclaimed middle name "Dark Rescue" to "Dumbass Thrillseeker".

Smarts! They both got 'em! He's more street-smarts whereas she's more book-smarts... so this one is kinda sorta both a same AND an opposite? FANCY!

They'd both be ABSOLUTELY CLUELESS when it came to romantic love and this makes me cackle. SHE has been suppressing her emotions and trying not to have so much as one single solitary FEEL for 13 years. HE has had no heart for 10 years during which time he LITERALLY could not feel emotions. Don't worry, she's no longer suppressing and he's got the ol' ticker back, so they're both doing the whole emotions thing again, but they're both such goddamn NEWBS when it comes to feelings that they probably wouldn't know a romantic inkling if one came up and slapped them in their gorgeous faces! So just picture it: these two idiots falling in love and just being all DAFUQ IS THIS??? I THINK MY HEART ITCHES??? I DON'T UNDERSTAND HALP.

On a final-ish note that is neither really opposites nor similarities, they both canonically exist in the same universe within Kingdom Hearts, so even though they haven't actually met yet, they could still theoretically meet and it'd still be 100% kosher canon! And okay sure, Disney worlds in KH are basically AUs of their movie counterparts so just cuz Elsa exists in Axel/Lea's franchise, doesn't mean Axel/Lea exists in Elsa's franchise. BUT STILL! I just love that there IS a canon universe where they do in fact both exist and could in fact meet and I JUST THINK THAT'S BEAUTIFUL.

That's it. That's all I got for now. I'm sure I'll come up with more and will return to add on to this, but to sum it all up: I just want to smoosh my fire and ice bbies cute widdle faces together :3 My my, how STEAMY that would be (huh? huh? see what I did there? cuz, ya know, she’s ice and he’s… ehhhh, I think you guys get it)

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mistymark · 5 years

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the one with all the spoilers.

part of the 50 things you said project // mark lee x reader // 4.2k words // university!au // strangers to lovers!au // masterlist // send in requests here

summary; things you said when we were the only ones left

warnings; drunk donghyuck, jeno and jaemin

request; this is for the 50 things you said works. I would like 31 with Mark, but could it be at the same roof party of that Renjun fic? I just thought it would be suuuuuper cute if oc was invited to Haechan's party and instead hanging out with Mark the entire night. Thank you!! 😘 (you can read the first fic here)

notes; I know it has been a loooonnnggg time since ive posted but ive been really trying to make this specific story as good as possible,,,, so I hope y’all like it. (sporadically edited)

You were late. You were so very late, and the bumper-to-bumper traffic was not helping. “Are we far away?” you asked the taxi driver, leaning forward in your seat only to see red brake lights and a long line of stopped vehicles in front of you.

“It might be faster to get out and walk, miss,” the driver informs you, leaning out his window to see what has caused such a delay on the normally-flowing road.

You thank the taxi driver and hand over the amount of money due, with a tip for his troubles, and run down the street, passing all the stopped cars in a blur. Without looking at what has caused the build up of traffic, you look down at your phone, hastily trying to figure out what street Donghyuck lives on now. You had previously been neighbours, for almost two years, but he had left a few months ago, opting to move in with one of his friends in a nicer apartment a few blocks down from you.

He’d sent you detailed instructions on how to get there from your workplace, knowing you’d get lost, but you were still unable to interpret his badly drawn Snapchat diagrams.

You eventually found the bakery he was referring to in his map, and turned left, walking towards some large apartment buildings. You figured you were in the right place and walked in, making your way up to his floor. When you arrived at the apartment, 6G, you couldnt hear any noise apart from the soft murmuring of two people talking and you hoped you weren’t too late and everyone had already gone home. You’d told Donghyuck you had work that day, and said you’ll be a bit late, but thirty minutes after your guaranteed time of arrival; you still hadn’t shown.

You knocked on the door. The murmurs stopped and you heard the door being unlocked, before being opened. Your eyes widened in shock at the boy before you, and you instantly looked down at your phone, suddenly unsure if you’d come to the right place as you took in the (rather attractive) boy’s appearance. He was dressed in flannel pyjama pants and a plain black tee, round glasses perched on his nose and a bowl of popcorn in his hand. He appeared to be the only one in the apartment. “Um, is this building 127 on 92nd?”

He smiled, “Yeah. Are you here for Hyuck’s birthday?” He turned around slightly, placing the bowl on a nearby table as you nodded shyly before opening the door wider to let you in. He made a gesture to his clothes, “Sorry, I thought everyone had already arrived.”

“Oh! Er, no problem,” you tried to smile back and hide the shame you were feeling, before asking where you should put your present.

He gestured to the dining table, where various presents had been stacked haphazardly on top of each other. When he caught a glimpse of the tag on your gift, his eyes widened in realisation, “You’re y/n! Hyuck said you were going to be late. I completely forgot.”

You laughed with him, stealing a glance at the TV behind him, which happened to be playing your favourite TV show. No wonder you thought you’d heard voices when you first arrived.

He gestured to the window beside you, ‘giving you directions’ to get to the roof where the rest of the party was being held.

“You’re not coming?” You asked, surprised.

He leant against the couch and patted the back fondly, “Nope, I’m staying here. Holding down the fort.”

“Just like Hyuck not to invite his own roommate to his party,” you grinned mischievously, not giving him the chance to dispute as you disappeared up the fire escape.

When you climbed over the edge and onto the roof, you sought out Donghyuck, as he was pretty much the only person you would know at this party. You’d met a few of his friends before while you were neighbours - Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun, specifically - but there were at least thirty people up here who you’d never even seen before.

You found Hyuck talking to two boys by the entryway, the latter both holding fireworks and with disappointed looks on their faces. He looked up as you approached, “Look who finally decided to show up!” Donghyuck patted the taller boy’s shoulder as he left and walked over to you, arms out for a hug.

You hugged him, laughing, “Don’t say it like you weren’t three hours late to my birthday.” He squeezed you in response.

“Have you seen Renjun, Jeno and Jaemin, yet? They’ll take care of you if you need it. I know you haven't met a lot of these people yet,” he smiled at you happily, his childish grin showing. He was evidently so happy and you couldnt help but smile back.

“I haven’t actually. I just arrived,” you said, glancing around. You saw Jeno and Jaemin playing drinking games in the dark with a few other people, and Renjun sitting down by the drinks table, alone.

You bid Hyuck goodbye as you walked towards Renjun, greeting him with a one-armed hug and grabbing a drink, before sitting down beside him on the stretched out lawn chair.

“It’s been ages since I last saw you,” he said, clinking his bottle against yours in a toast. “Have you been here the entire night?”

You sighed, “No, I just arrived twenty minutes ago. I had work and then traffic was bad and - it was a whole mess. I’m glad I came, though. I havent seen you and your dumb friends in ages.”

He laughed with you, recalling all the outrageous pranks and activities the 00 line had attempted whilst Hyuck lived next door to you. “I bet you don’t miss us,” he looked away, watching Jeno cheer for someone taking a shot and smiling.

“Believe it or not but you guys were better than the young married couple I live next to now,” you wrinkled your nose. “Let’s just say I try to take night shifts as often as possible.”

He cringed at your words and laughed, before looking up as Donghyuck approached, rather frantic, “Hey, y/n, could you duck downstairs and grab the case of beer in my bedroom? Mark will show you where it is.”

You stood up immediately, “Of course.” You turned to leave before turning back, “Um, quick question: who is Mark?”

Donghyuck had already rushed off, eyeing a stumbling partygoer by the drinks table worriedly. Renjun stayed sitting on the chair, lifting his beer up to his lips, “Mark’s Donghyuck’s roommate. The guy probably opened the door for you.”

You feel your eyebrows raise in realisation, and you’re suddenly embarrassed that you hadn't previously asked him his name, especially since you thought he was rather cute. “Oh,” you turn to leave. “Tell Hyuck I’ll be back in a second.”

You entered the apartment through the window, climbing in and attempting to not kick the flowerpot off the shelf beside it as you did. You landed nimbly on your feet and clapped your hands together, causing Mark to jump in his seat on the couch and turn around to you, “Oh God! You scared me.” You walked in the direction of the bedrooms, briefly checking which part of the show he was watching and he called out after you, “Hey! Bathroom is here!”

You stopped in the corridor, the doors to the two bedrooms on either side of you. You pointed to each one in turn, “I’m looking for Hyuck’s room. Which one?”

He didn’t bother turning around, his eyes glued to the screen, as he yelled, “Left!”

You searched Donghyuck’s room for the case of beer, before standing up with your hands on your hips, “Hey, Mark? Where’s the beer?”

“Closet!” His voice was muffled by a handful of food.

“It’s not here!” You shouted back, before mumbling under your breath, “Unless I’m blind.”

He leant back on the couch to better see where you were and his mouth fell open when he realised you were in the wrong room, his room. “Oh, um, y/n?”

“Yeah?” You poked your head around the door and leant against the wall, your cheek squishing against the doorframe. Mark’s lips quirked up a fraction at your pout.

“That’s... that’s my room. Hyuck’s is the other one.”

You immediately jumped back from the door, trying not to make eye contact as you shut the door and went into the bedroom opposite, “Oh, sorry. I thought you said left.” You attempted to hide your blush that was rising up your neck due to your embarrassment, wondering how how you could have been so stupid as to start going through a stranger’s bedroom.

“Right, yeah, sorry. My bad. Are you taking it up to the roof?” You heard him call from the couch, and you pulled your phone out to check the time.

You placed it on the bed and eyed the case again, “Yeah.”

You could hear him let out a laugh, “Good luck with that.”

Stumbling out of Hyuck’s bedroom, the case in hand, you glared at him, “Gee, thanks for your help.”

Mark smirked, “You’re welcome.” Smartass, you thought.

You made your way to the door, before turning around, quickly shouting before it closed behind you, “By the way, she dies in the next episode! He ends up marrying her best friend!”

As the door slams shut, from you pulling it with your foot, you hear him groan and shout behind you. Smirking to yourself, you make your way up the stairs.

Hyuck thanks you for bringing all the beer up and you smile, insisting it was no problem. You crack a cold one with the boys one open and look around the crowd, Donghyuck departing once again to talk to his guests.

You spot Jeno under one of the food tables, rummaging through boxes of supplies as Jaemin stands behind him, his posture slack and foot tapping against the ground in an attempt to appear casual. Jeno whoops in success and jumps up, a roll of duct tape in hand. You grin at them, knowing they’re up to no good but not wanting to spoil their fun.

You don't see Renjun anywhere, so you reach for your phone to check your messages, only to find the pocket you normally keep it in is empty. You pat yourself down, searching all your pockets for your phone, before realising you probably left it in Donghyuck’s room when you went to fetch more beer.

Climbing down the fire escape again, you enter Donghyuck’s apartment and make your way to his room, not bothering to greet Mark this time. He does a double take as he sees you walking, staring after you and hurriedly looking away as soon as you walk out of the bedroom, your hand sliding your phone into your pocket.

When you make your way back to the window, he refuses to take his eyes off the screen, “Hey, does she really die next episode?”

You turn around and watch the screen momentarily, making sure you got the right episode and weren't getting mixed up. When you don’t respond, Mark turns his head back a little. He watches you silently.

Your eyes snap down to his and you watch his eyebrows raise every so slightly, “Yeah, I’m sure. She goes to the wedding planner after they get engaged and-”

“They get engaged?!”

“Oh, yeah. It’s real cute. He’s all like ‘You’re so gorgeous will you do me a gosh darn favour and be my gosh darn wife’ and then she says ‘Oh YES I love you so passionately, my love is like a thousand burning stars!” He laughs as you lower and raise your voice to imitate the actors.

You quirk an eyebrow at him before turning around to leave, but he spins around in his seat, his arms coming to rest on top of the couch, “And then what happens?”

He’s staring at you so cutely, you can’t help but blush a little bit, “I - er... well, she says yes, obviously and then- OH WAIT NO THIS IS THE GOOD PART SHH!” You quickly run forward and snatch the remote from the arm of the couch, turning up the volume and staring at the TV with wide eyes.

You’re standing behind the couch now, subconsciously clutching the remote close to your chest as you watch the plot unravel on the screen, unaware of the fact that Mark is watching you.

When five minutes go by, and the credits are rolling, you start walking backwards towards the fire escape, your eyes on Mark, “I told you the engagement was lame. Next episode is the engagement party, I think, so enjoy that.”

“You don’t want to keep watching?” He asks, standing up with the empty chip bowl in his hand. “Hyuck won’t mind.”

You hesitate. You’d been here for less than an hour, and only spoken to Donghyuck briefly because he was so busy. And if you were being completely honest, you had jumped at the chance to help with the beer just because you didn’t have anything else to do. While you’d been chatting to Renjun, other people had come up and introduced themselves, but you either couldn’t remember their name or weren’t interested in talking to them again after your meagre conversation.

You bite the corner of your lip in thought, before nodding slowly, watching as he empties another packet of chips into the large bowl. “Sure. And I promise, no more spoilers.”

He grinned at your answer and then pouted mockingly before walking back over to the couch. It was only now that you realised how ill-fitting Donghyuck’s furniture was. When he had moved in with Mark, they had obviously kept whatever furniture they previously owned and put it in the new apartment, despite the fact that Mark’s modern, stark white dining table and chairs contrasted to Donghyuck’s old brown leather sofa and wooden table.

The three-seater couch sat opposite the TV, and you happily plopped yourself down on one side, Mark placing the bowl of chips between you two in offering. He pressed play on the remote.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but it was getting late, and you were at least another five episodes into the show. Mark had assured you Donghyuck told his drunken guests to leave via the stairwell rather than the fire escape (to prevent any injuries) so you were left virtually undisturbed. Two people (one who Mark addressed as Johnny) climbed in through the window and left, and you assumed the tall boy was taking the other home.

Renjun poked his head in the front door as he left to bid you a quick farewell and a ‘let’s catch up soon’, one arm around the much larger bodies of drunk Jaemin and Jeno. The party was still going on. When you slid your phone off the table, you noticed it was past midnight, and you were growing tired. You leant your head back and, when you looked over at Mark, your eyes slowly shutting, you realised he was already passed out on the couch.

It was sometime after three when Donghyuck stumbled into the apartment, carrying a box of decorations and trays. He had kicked the door open, dismissing the loud slam it made as it swung into the wall, and placed the box at the entrance of the apartment, before promptly disappearing into his room and face planting onto his bed.

The loud bang had disturbed your peaceful slumber, and your eyes began fluttering open, your mind screaming at you to go back to sleep. You could’ve gone back to sleep right there and then, bringing the pillow closer to your face but it was at that moment that you realised this was not a pillow, but was actually the soft black material of Mark’s shirt. Apparently, while you were sleeping, you had leant towards him slightly, your body weight causing you to lean diagonally towards Mark, who had shifted so that he was now with sleeping with one arm on the arm rest and one around you, sitting up slightly due to his previous sitting position.

His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, holding you to his stomach as you used him as a pillow, his legs outstretched and off the side of the couch. You attempted to move out of his hold, but he groaned, his other arm reaching down to hold you in place, “No. Stay.”

Suddenly, there was another loud bang as Donghyuck threw his bedroom door open in search of water and began making his way to the kitchen. The sudden noise made you jump in your half-asleep state, and you felt Mark stir as he blinked his eyes open, looking down at you in shock.

You were sure your face mirrored his, the surprise evident on your face.

You pushed yourself up and began gathering your things. It was at this point Donghyuck noticed you, “Oh, y/n! What a surprise! I’m so glad you came tonight, I had a wonderful time.” His eyes flickered to the couch as Mark sat up drearily, “Hey Ma- oh. My mistake. Forgive me. Have a good night.”

Donghyuck disappeared back into his bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him and you sighed, “I’d better get going.”

“What? You’re exhausted and it’s 3:30am. As if I’m going to let you drive home at this hour,” Mark said, standing up and fixing up the cushions on the couch. His eyes were half closed as he brought the dirty bowl to the kitchen.

“I was going to walk, or Uber,” you said.

“That’s dumb; you could literally be murdered. And that’s impractical - what Ubers would be out at this hour?”

“Well, how do you suggest I get home then?” Maybe it was the tiredness, but his snarky smartass attitude was getting on your nerves again. He was acting the same way he had been when you’d come to collect the beer case.

“I’m saying you should stay here,” Mark’s voice changed, becoming softer, quieter.

“I shouldn’t-,” you immediately attempted to dismiss his kindness, but he argued back.

“It’s fine, you can sleep in my bed,” he watched your eyes widen and hid a smile as he glanced down at the floor. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Right, of course,” you said, eventually relenting and then helping him grab the last of the snacks from the couch.

He gestured towards his room, “Well, you know which one is mine. I have an early class tomorrow so I might not see you, but Donghyuck will be here so...” Mark set a pillow down, smirking at you, as he settled in on the couch, disappearing from view from where you stood behind it, “Sleep well.”

When you walked backed into Mark’s room, you couldnt help but notice how obviously Mark it was. When you were in it the first time, you hadn’t really been paying attention to it, focussing on finding the beer Hyuck had stashed. Now, you could fully appreciate the colours, the decorations, the organisation, everything that was completely Mark.

You noticed a spare blanket and pillow on his bed, and immediately pulled them into the living room, dropping them on Mark’s stomach before making your way back to his bedroom. You didn’t let yourself watch for his reaction.

The next morning, you woke up to Donghyuck lying across his couch, his hand clutching his head as he groaned in pain. He had shrieked when he first saw you walking out of Mark’s bedroom, thinking he was the only one home, and then almost cried because his own shout was so loud. You began to make him breakfast, but he insisted he couldn't eat and would wait until Mark came home from class, so you made yourself pancakes.

“Hey, can I get Mark’s number?” you asked casually, biting a piece of pancake.

Immediately, the younger boy sat bolt upright from the couch, his eyes wide in shock, “What?”

“Err... your roommate. Can I have his number?” You continued eating your breakfast, watching him closely.

“What do you want his number for?” Hyuck questioned, his elbow coming to rest on the back of the couch as he pressed his palm to his forehead.

“I wanted to thank him,” you said, straightening your back subconsciously at the subtle accusation in Donhyuck’s question. “I had a good time last night.”

“Ughhhh, y/n! I don’t want to hear that!”

“What? Oh, God, no. Donghyuck, no! Gross,” you turned back to face your plate, avoiding the boy’s gaze.

He sighed, dropping dramatically back onto the couch, “Fine, whatever. Grab me my phone, then. It’s on the bench over there, I think.”

“Uhh, what happened to it?” The phone screen was smashed beyond repair, and the phone was bent slightly in half. The forward-facing camera was dislodged, and the buttons were stiff, as if, when pressed, nothing would happen. When you pointed this fact out to Donghyuck, he groaned and threw it at the wall, ignoring the shattering sound of the glass screen as he flopped backwards onto the couch.

“Mark will know,” he mumbled into a pillow.

“Well, thanks for letting me stay last night. I’ll see you soon, okay?” You began to put on your coat as you searched for your handbag in the messy apartment.

The door swung open and Mark walked in, and you had to remind yourself to keep breathing. He was dressed casually in blue jeans and a plain white tee, with a dark bomber jacket to compliment the outfit. He wasn’t wearing glasses today, and you were unsure whether he looked better or worse without them.

He hung up his jacket on the rack, briefly glancing at both you and Hyuck as he did, “Oh! Y/n! I didn’t think you’d be here when I got back.” He shot you a grin, but you missed it as you finally grabbed your bag and slung it over you shoulder.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m heading off now. Thanks for letting me stay the night,” you walked past him to the door, sending him a small smile before yelling at Haechan just to frustrate him in his hungover state.

You left, and walked down the stairs of the building, berating yourself for not asking Mark for his number. The guy was easily the most attractive person you’d ever seen, and you liked the same TV shows. What you were thinking was: you’re basically soulmates.

With newfound determination, you spun on your heel and marched back to the apartment door, convincing yourself you were confident enough to get the boy’s number. You breathed deeply, before raising your hand to knock.

Before your hand could make contact with the wood, the door swung open, and suddenly a body slammed rather strongly into you. You didn’t need to look up to know it was Mark, you recognised his scent, and his voice when he began apologising.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” His hands gripped your waist as he simultaneously tried to hold you up and push you out of his way gently.

“No, no, it’s-”

Finally, his brain seemed to have caught up to the situation. “Hey,” he breathed.

“Hi,” you smiled up at him. One arm was still wrapped securely around your waist, holding you flush against his body.

His eyes awkwardly flittered elsewhere, focussing on anything and everything as long as it wasn’t your face, “I, uh, was trying to catch you.”

You looked at your hand that was placed on his chest, “Well, here I am.” There was a lengthy pause. “What’s up?”

He cocked his head to the side, before pulling you up and slightly stepping back, clearing his throat, “Wait. What are you doing here? Did you forget something?”

You glanced at your feet, suddenly insecure that he had just let you go whilst you were here trying to confess your feelings. “I... No. I actually came back to ask you for your number.”

His face lit up at your words, a large, happy smile stretching across his face as he suddenly reached into his pocket, producing a small square of paper, “I was going to catch you and give you this.”

You raised an eyebrow at it before plucking it from his fingers and opening the note. The words ‘call me’ were printed above his phone number, and below, a message:

spoiler alert! we go on a date :)

You laughed at his reference to the night before, during which you had spoiled many episode endings.

“Well? Is that a yes? I can’t tell,” he asked, stepping forward a little.

“Definitely,” you smiled, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck as your faces drew closer, and closer, and closer, and-

“MARK, CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE ME A QUESADILLA?” Donghyuck’s voice interrupted what was almost a kiss, and Mark giggled, resting his forehead against yours.

“We’ll continue this later.” Then he stepped back, gave your hand a squeeze and shut the door of his apartment.

there u have it kiddos!!! my first post in like two months lol (sorry, love u)

#nct #nct 127 #nct 2018 #nct dream #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct writing #nct fanfic #nct texts #nct 127 imagines #nct dream imagines #mark lee #nct mark #lee mark #mark x reader #mark lee x reader #mark fluff #nct mark fluff #nct fluff

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snowbellewells · 5 years

Text

CSRomCom18: While You Were Sleeping // Part Eight

Sheesh, I am so sorry it has taken this long to get the last installment of this fic to you guys! I hope if you’re still reading, you’ll enjoy the happy conclusion (and the nods to the original movie, which I adore, along with those to Captain Swan and their relationship). Thanks so much for reading this little movie AU. I’d love to hear what you think!

Part Eight

by: @snowbellewells (Also on AO3 with the same username and on ff.net as TutorGirlml)

Looking back on the next few days from the settled perspective of years later, Killian Jones was still never quite able to pinpoint when exactly things snowballed so quickly out of control. Doubtless, once his mother and grandmother learned Liam was awake and eager to reacquaint himself with the fiancé they had already fallen in love with and welcomed into the family fold, their enthusiasm swept things along at rather inevitable speed. Where he expected Emma to balk at being swept up in his family’s wake, or for Liam’s missing chunks of memory to return and remind him that he barely knew this woman everyone claimed he loved, neither did any such thing. If occasionally he caught Emma’s eye across a room full of fabric samples and bridal magazines, and wished to tell her that she could still call the whole thing off over the babble of his family debating chicken or fish at the reception dinner, he also bit back the protest at the look within her dazzling green ones. Yes, she appeared a bit overwhelmed, but it was more a pleading sort of fear if he read it correctly. She seemed to be begging him to continue keeping their secret, to help her spare these people they both loved pain, and not to toss her out in the world alone once more.

He could kick himself now. Had he realized sooner what he truly felt and how strong it was, he would have told her he was the Jones brother falling in love with every little quirk she possessed - from the way she snorted with laughter to the way she raptly listened to his gran’s stories no matter how long they stretched, or the way she could debate comic book minutiae with Nick to a true nerdish degree that clearly thrilled his younger sibling. This farce he’d drawn she and Liam into - no matter how well-meant his original intentions - was strangling them now, and it hadn’t even been necessary. He hated to contemplate the anguished fallout for everyone if Liam did someday regain the rest of his memories - or the feelings Killian had always believed his elder brother still harbored for his first love.

Bloody prat that he was, he’d made a right muddle of things in his attempts to do right by all concerned. He accepted the fact that he had brought heartbreak on himself, but that he might have trapped Emma and Liam into a marriage that might never grow into love as he had first thought it could? That was unbearable. And the idea that Emma would bear the weight of anger and recrimination if the charade fell apart was also nearly more that he could stand. Yet, still Killian held back - no longer sure how to proceed and almost certain it was much too late to come clean. The damage had already been done.

~~~~~******~~~~~~******

Somehow, in a string of events quite beyond her comprehension, Emma knew that she was in this whole wedding farce well over her head, and with no way to swim back to the surface. All that time ago, when she’d jumped onto the rails and saved Liam Jones’ life, she had believed herself in love with him… or, at least the idea of him as he had appeared from afar. In all actuality, now that she had gotten to know him a bit beyond casual hellos and goodbyes in passing, he was every bit the pleasant and engaging gentleman she had supposed he would be, if a bit predictable and excessively proper at times.

For someone who really hadn’t even known her name or anything about her, he had been the model fiancé since waking up and being told she was his intended bride. The trouble was with Emma’s own disloyal heart - and of course, her uneasy conscience. She couldn’t escape the harsh truth that deep down she was deceiving Liam, that someday it would all come out, and he and his whole family would hate her for the hurt and unhappiness she could have prevented simply by being honest with them.

It wasn’t only that either. The other niggling reality which wouldn’t let her alone was that she knew now she didn’t truly love Liam Jones. Oh, he was still every bit as handsome as she had ever thought him; just as desirable and accomplished and successful - a true catch in every way but one. He wasn’t it for her. She couldn’t have known it when this whole fiasco began, but the Jones man she had longed for from afar was not the one who made her heart pound and her cheeks heat. He wasn’t the one who had shared his secret hopes and fears with her or come to know and understand her as she rarely allowed anyone to do. That was all Killian - and she had made it well nigh impossible for the younger Jones to love her in return.

Now, here she was in a side hall off the hospital chapel, wearing a ridiculously lacy confection of a white dress, about to marry the wrong man and quite possibly wreck both their lives because she couldn’t bear to stop being a part of something - a family - that she had never been allowed to experience before. Blowing out a short breath, Emma shook her clammy hands and tried to steel herself for the ceremony ahead. It suddenly seemed as if she couldn’t go forward or back, she was merely frozen where she stood with no right way out.

At that moment, David Jones, Liam and Killian’s father, appeared in the doorway that led through to the front of the small chapel, offering her a warm, comforting smile as he came to stand before her. He was happily standing to give her away (and gain her as one of his own at the same time), and he reached out to grip her upper arms bracingly as he faced her in the narrow hall, a calmly affectionate look on his face - just the sort of look Emma had always imagined a father of her own wearing when she had made him proud. ‘If he only knew the truth, he’d be anything but…’ her inner voice whispered unkindly, and Emma felt confession bubbling up her throat, just barely managing to clench her teeth and bite back the words that would make that accepting warmth on the older man’s face go cold. This was exactly how she had gotten into this mess. These people had given her the chance to know what a real family felt like, and she couldn’t give it up - no matter what kind of a liar it made her.

“Ready for the big moment?” David asked gently, his motions soothing as he first enveloped her in a hug, then straightened and offered her his arm to lead her down the aisle.

Emma merely nodded wordlessly, her mouth unbearably dry all of a sudden, and she found that her hand was trembling as she looped it through David’s crooked elbow. She could only hope he would chalk it up to normal wedding jitters rather than her emotions going haywire or her guilty conscience.

As if she didn’t already feel badly enough for all her repeated falsehoods, just as they reached the double doors that lead into the chapel down its center aisle, the Jones family patriarch leaned in to murmur softly, but with heartfelt sincerity, “I’m glad to have you joining our family.”

Drawing in a tight breath, Emma smiled, actually wanting little more than to be one of them as well. However, she also swayed on her feet slightly, wishing it weren’t with these sorts of strings and deceptions attached. Somehow it seemed she barely blinked and they had slipped through the entryway arm-in-arm and they were halfway down the aisle, an off-duty reception nurse Nick had enthusiastically enlisted playing the Wedding March on the organ in the corner to accompany their steps.

This was her wedding! And yet, Emma felt herself breaking out in a cold sweat, wishing there were some way she could pause, even for a moment, to bring things back under control. As they neared the altar at the end of the aisle, the spot for once witnessing a happy occasion instead of pleading, broken family of the critically ill and injured, Emma’s gaze landed on Liam, standing tall despite still having an IV pole next to him, fluids still feeding into his right arm. He, or someone in his overzealous family, had attempted to tame and slick back his normally riotous curls, and he offered her a hesitant but hopeful, genuine smile as she came to stand beside him, offering her his large and steady hand.

She placed her fingers in his grasp, hoping he would also forgive the trembling he must feel just as his father had. Biting her lower lip, Emma offered a tentative smile in return. The prospect of marrying this steady, caring man - one whom she had blatantly admired for some time - shouldn’t be filling her with hesitation and dread, and seeing his willingness to stand up with her, even not knowing how they had come to be together, nearly made her resolve to carry this whole thing through.

And then her eyes caught Killian’s over his brother’s shoulder where he stood as best man. The enthralling blue she’d grown used to glimpsing, gazing into her soul, was muted and pained, even as he too offered her a crooked smile. Clearly, he was doing his best to step out of the way, to help her keep her secret and to support his brother’s happiness, and so he said nothing. Yet Emma had come to know him well enough now to understand he had all the same doubts she was holding in, and unless she was only reading what she wished to see, a measure of the same pain and regret she wasn’t going to be able to ignore.

Standing there one moment longer, Emma let her eyes trace over Killian’s features once more before moving to Liam, David, and the faces of the rest of the Jones clan seated to her left. If she was about to ruin everything, she wanted to be sure to fix in her mind everyone she would be giving up, the family she could have had. Then she drew in a breath, squared her shoulders and faced her groom to finally admit the truth.

“Wait, please…” she interrupted, halting the music and drawing the rapt attention of everyone in the room. “There’s something I need to tell you...all of you.” She forced herself to meet Liam’s eyes steadily - he deserved that much from her - but gestured to the rest of his family around her.

Liam, for his his part, nodded kindly, indicating she should go ahead and that he was listening. Emma swallowed hard, trying to tell herself he wasn’t about to hate her. “I’m not who you think I am. I mean, I am Emma Swan, and I did save your life after you were mugged, but ...we were never engaged. One of the nurses misunderstood the situation when you were brought in. I only wanted to know that you’d be alright - but then everyone believed I was your fiancé before I could correct them. And then I met you - all of you - “ she glanced at Ruth, Margaret, Nick, and David. “You welcomed me into your home, made me a part of your family, and I - I just fell in love. I didn’t want to let you go.”

She ended with her eyes on David, a father figure like she’d never known before, and he had a near-comical look of stunned confusion on his face. “With me?” he repeated densely, trying to catch up and absorb all she had just told them.

A rather undignified snort escaped her - half laugh, half sob - as her eyes fell to her feet. Shaking her head, Emma raised her face once more to answer him. “Well, your entire family…. A-and your son.”

David Jones nodded, still not quite grasping her meaning, or the real problem. “Well, yes, obviously. Isn’t that why we’re here?”

With a teary smile, Emma had to shake her head ‘no’ once more. Gesturing around Liam’s solid form toward Killian, she clarified, “Not that son...that one.”

She heard gasps from their assorted audience, even as Killian took a step forward, eyes sparkling mischievously and one corner of his mouth tilting upwards with more confidence. “Killian, what did you do?” she heard his mother admonish, scandalized. Emma’s eyes met Killian’s despite the chaos quickly growing around them, and it was all either of them could do not to burst out laughing.

Even as the others began to stand and press forward, all asking questions and talking at once, Emma forced herself to turn back to face the older Jones brother, truly sorry if she had hurt him and needing him to understand that she had never intended any of this. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, under the hubbub rising in the room.

To her relief, Liam merely nodded in quiet understanding and stepped to the side, allowing Killian to move just a bit closer. The elder brother went to his gran, who looked to be swaying on her feet a bit stunned, and was clinging to Nick’s arm tightly. Emma bit her lip, relieved and desperately anxious to speak to Killian, hoping against hope that maybe all was not lost, only to have his mother accost him just before he could reach her.

Their eye contact broken, Emma’s heart fluttered anxiously in her chest, all her fear and self-doubt welling up once more. The room seemed to be closing in as questions flew and the ludicrous nature of what she’d done settled upon her. She needed to get out of there before she did anymore damage. Honestly, her decisions so far had caused Killian’s whole family enough stress and difficulty; hanging around hoping that they would let her back in after this was more than Emma felt she deserved.

In the midst of the clamor, there was suddenly a loud thump as the doors at the end of the aisle swung open again and hit the wall with the force. The sound of quick, determined footsteps charged down the aisle toward them. The small crowd of guests and family hurriedly parted to reveal a tiny spitfire of a brunette, hands on her slim hips and eyes crackling ferociously. Her petite frame was heightened by sky-high gold heels and a short, pleated skirt, but Emma sensed immediately that despite her deceptively fragile appearance, the woman was not one to be trifled with.

“Liam Jones!” the brunette demanded sharply, her voice causing the man in question to pull himself up straight as if snapping to attention. From the moment she had appeared, this woman had arrested Liam’s gaze completely, but now he was breathlessly focused on her awaiting her next words like air to breathe. “What is going on here?!?” she continued, her tone harsh with indignation, but a tremulous quaver almost lost beneath that made Emma wonder if this newcomer’s true prevailing emotion were not hurt more than anger. “You - you proposed to me!”

Liam’s mouth fell open for a moment, aghast, and even as he was floundering for words, he stepped forward to reach her saying, “Belle, let me explain…” The room’s other occupants erupted in movement and exclamations once more.

Emma saw a break in the people nearest her and a clear path to the door. The woman, whom she now knew to be the elder Jones’ aforementioned first love, was her deciding sign. She had done more than enough to disrupt their lives, and the best thing she could do for the Jones family now was to get out of the way. Before Killian or anyone else could reach her to question her or try to convince her otherwise, Emma slipped out of the chapel, swiping uselessly at the tears that were already streaming down her face.

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

One week later…

Emma Swan was once more at her post in the Riverside terminal, listlessly checking tokens in a monotonous routine that she didn’t dare upset. The excitement that had broken her usual days had nearly undone her, and she would be better off simply doing her job, going home to Tink, some hot cocoa and Law & Order reruns, and leaving well enough alone.

Yet, despite her best intentions, Emma couldn’t help wondering how all of the Jones clan were doing. Had their gran recovered from the shock? Did David, Margaret and Nick hate her for her false pretense? And even more important, what had happened with Liam and Belle? Had the other woman understood what occurred? In truth, did Liam even understand himself how the convoluted sequence of events had led to her being his mistaken fiancé? Above all of these concerns however, the worry that truly pressed on her mind, pained her heart, and wouldn’t even allow her a peaceful night’s sleep was her concern for Killian. Did his family know he had kept her secret? Did they blame him for it? Did he, now that he’d had time to think? Initially, Emma had clung to the faint hope that Killian might still want to see her, might come to her apartment and find her again. She had thought there was something between them on the verge of acknowledgement when she didn’t go through with the wedding. But, as two days became three, then four, then five, she had resigned herself to the fact that she must have been wrong.

Reaching out to take the next commuter pass, Emma didn’t even look up to see the waiting passenger’s face. “Go on through,” she directed, beckoning with a wave of the hand.

“Actually, Love,” a warm and familiarly accented voice addressed her clearly, “I’d prefer to remain with you, if you don’t mind.”

Emma’s eyes shot up in stunned realization to meet the brilliant blues of Killian Jones, sparkling playfully as he gazed back at her, wide grin stretching across his face with glee.

Seeing that he now had her full attention, Killian cocked his head to the side, playfully waggling his dark brows at her as he asked, “Well, Swan, did you miss me?”

Even as a loud bubble of laughter escaped her, a haze of unshed tears swam before her vision as she nodded vigorously, completely at a loss for words. It was as though she had dreamed him there before her and she couldn’t make herself believe he was real.

When Emma still didn’t give an audible reply, a chorus of voices began to chime in, causing her to realize they weren’t alone.

“Come now, Killian, don’t tease the poor girl,” Ruth’s gentle voice chided to his left.

“Yeah, let’s do this already!” came Nick’s impatiently excited addition. “Show Emma what you brought.”

“Aye, brother.” Emma spared a glance just over Killian’s right shoulder to where Liam stood, the brunette from their near-wedding cuddled to his side and now smiling at her genially. “After all, if you’re afraid to go after what you want, you deserve what you get!” His words were obviously meant in jest, though she could see Killian straightening his shoulders as if galvanized into action, but Liam only gave her a small, forgiving smile and winked, letting her know things were well between the two of them.

She saw now that Killian’s entire family was with him, flanking him in support. And not one of them looked anything less than pleased. None seemed to be harboring her a bit of ill will, and a fear than had been weighing on her almost constantly slipped off her shoulders at the sight. Margaret Jones even had tears of sincere joy twinkling in her eyes right along with Emma as she nodded to acknowledge the younger woman’s glance with a friendly smile.

“You - you’re all...here…” Emma stumbled to get out, flabbergasted with surprise and gratitude, and simply happy to see them all again.

“Of course we are, Swan,” Killian murmured, leaning in closer to the window that separated them, words meant for her alone. “However, I would like to come in there with you now. I’ve a question for you that requires at least a bit of privacy.”

Her wits finally restored enough to play with him a little in return, Emma smirked before shaking her head in mock regret. ‘It’s not allowed, sorry. You don’t have enough tokens.”

Killian gave a short nod, grin recognizing what she was doing and happily calling her bluff. Reaching into his pocket, he removed his hand, fisted around something Emma couldn’t yet see, and slipped it into the same slot where he had placed his token before. Letting his mischievous eyes glimmer at her in a way that couldn’t fail to take her in, Killian ran his tongue along his full lower lip, knowing Emma’s eyes were following the motion, and asked, “What about this? Will it do?”

To her astonishment, Emma looked down after hearing a tinkling metallic sound to find that Killian had dropped, not another few tokens as she had assumed, but an engagement ring, unmistakable in its beauty and meaning.

“Now will you let me in?” he asked more seriously, as she meet his eyes while blinking back tears, already nodding ‘yes’ vehemently and depressing the button which would allow him through into the small kiosk with her.

As soon as she was within his reach, Killian swept her up into his arms, and Emma wrapped hers around his neck, kissing him back and laughing for sheer joy as he rained kisses across her cheeks. “Can’t believe I nearly let you get away,” he whispered against her skin.

Emma offered him the most brilliant smile she could manage. “I’m so glad you didn’t,” was all she could really say in response.

~~~~~***~~~~~~~~***~~~~~

Liam asked her once when it was that she had fallen in love with Killian instead, and she’d answered him simply and honestly. Shrugging her shoulders, she replied, “That’s easy. It was while you were sleeping.”

Tagging: @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @revanmeetra87 @teamhook @branlovestowrite @therooksshiningknight @aloha-4-ever @linda8084 @vvbooklady1256 @bmbbcs4evr @the-captains-ayebrows @winterbaby89 @spartanguard @nikkiemms @cinnamonduckling @capswantrue @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @blackwidownat2814

#csromcom18 #cs movie au #final part #while you were sleeping au #cs ff #part eight

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inyournightmares97 · 6 years

Note

hello!! ive been busy lately and ive missed reading your stuff! could i request 87 and 99 for the drabble challenge w brian please! thanks so much and have a good day! xx

YoungK + “Are you five” + “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

(Childhood Enemies!au)

Oh, how passionately you hated Brian Kang.

Brian, your next-door neighbor who had been trying to get people to call him YoungK since he was seven years old, but had yet to succeed three years later because everybody everywhere unanimously called him Brian. Even his so-called best friend, Sungjin, had long ceased using the nickname. But your hatred for Brian didn’t stem from his poor name-picking skills. It was a much older feud, one with a long, bloody history and that went back many years…

Well. Six years to be exact. Brian had moved into the house next door on the day you turned 4 years old, and while your mother had only invited him to come play with the other kids out of politeness, he’d ruined what was meant to be the best birthday party ever.

“Who ate all the cake before I could even blow my candles?”

Of course, the culprit had been caught too easily because Brian had pink Barbie-cake frosting all over his hands and mouth while he chattered happily with your older brother, Jae. You had a sneaking suspicion that Jae had been the one who told Brian it was okay to eat the cake but it had been his pudgy little hands and uncontrollable tongue that had ruined your special Barbie-themed birthday party.

And thus began what would be six years of hell.

Brian was generally a nice guy and most of the kids around the block liked him well enough. He let the other boys borrow his nice bike and sometimes helped some of the girls climb trees. But Brian held grudges for a long time and he never forgot how you humiliated him and made him cry for eating your cake at his birthday party. So he began his mission to make your life hell.

When you both started the first grade together, he somehow convinced the other kids in your class that you’d pooped your pants. None of them came near you and you spent most of that year without any friends but with the occasional taunts from Brian. Nothing particularly creative, mind you, just the standard you’re ugly, and you’re stupid and the worst one, are you five? That last one hurt the most but no matter what Brian stupid Kang said, you were not five, you were six and a half years old, so he could suck it.

When you reached the second grade, you realized that something had to change. You were not one to be let yourself be stepped all over, so you began to hold your own. On the first day of school, you told all of your new classmates that Brian had eaten your Barbie cake and that he secretly liked Barbies. While it didn’t cause his friends to abandon him completely, he still endured an entire year worth of teasing from his male friends. By the time you both reached third grade, it had become an all-out war and everybody knew about it.

Your mother had forced you to invite him to your birthday party again, so he’d made you a card with an enormous turd drawn on the front and with the words ‘Poopy-head’ written on it. You were unimpressed as he handed you the card with pleased sniggers,

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” you asked sarcastically, tossing the card aside while you frowned at him. Your older brother Jae had already taught you all the bad words that you needed to know and Brian’s limited vocabulary was unimpressive. “Ugh, how do you not even know any actual bad words?”

Brian frowned. “I do too!”

“Oh, really? Then what’s the baddest word of all time? Huh? Tell me, tell me.”

Brian’s face turned red. “I bet you don’t know either!”

“I do know!” you announced triumphantly, lowering you voice and whispering. “It’s fuck.”

Brian gasped. “I’m telling your mother you said that!”

And hence Brian Kang also ruined your 8th birthday party, by getting you into trouble with your mother and banned from watching television for two weeks. (She might have been more lenient if she knew that you’d learned the word from Jae, and not from the television, but you weren’t a tattle-tale like poopy-headed Brian).

Throughout all the time that Brian had annoyed you and teased you (and you’d admittedly teased him back) you’d developed a passionate mutual hatred for the boy that took up an unusually large share of your time and energy. But it wasn’t until you both finally entered middle school that Brian finally crossed the line and made you actually cry.

It was Valentine’s Day on the first day of middle school, and you’d gotten exactly thirty-two Valentine’s Day cards. Your female friends had been overly generous that year, but you were one of the few girls who actually got Valentine’s cards from some of the boys because you’d joined the middle school basketball team that year and most of the boys in your class were just transitioning from the girls-have-cooties, to the girls-are-cute stage, so you had a little attention on you. Brian had joined the basketball team as well, at the insistence of his best friend Sungjin, and so he was present when most of the team members came up to you and handed you Valentine’s Day cards shyly.

It was on the bus ride home that the crime occurred.

“What’s so great about Valentine’s Day cards,” Brian asked snootily. He was sitting in the seat in front of you. You both sat near the front because as much as you hated each other, you were both too scared to sit near the older kids at the back of the bus. Brian was talking to Sungjin loudly, knowing you could hear him. “I think counting how many Valentine’s Day cards you got it stupid, most people just hand them around even to those they don’t like.”

You were annoyed. Who was he to burst your bubble. “How many did you get, Brian?” you demanded.

Brian glared at you. “I don’t know, I didn’t bother counting.”

“Yes, you did!” Sungjin piped up, turning back to give you a pleasant smile. “He told me that he got eight.”

“Shut up!” Brian hissed.

You beamed, understanding why Brian was being so annoying. He was just bitter that he hadn’t gotten a lot of Valentine’s Day cards. To be fair, you knew a couple of girls in your class that thought Brian was cute but none of them had the guts to actually go up to him and give him a card. All the same, the fact remained that you’d gotten a lot more than him and you couldn’t wait to rub it in. You reached into your backpack and pulled out the stack of cards you’d received that day, holding them in front of Brian’s face.

“I got 32,” you said proudly. “Want to see?”

“No,” Brian snapped.

You ignored him. “Look, let me show you who gave me a card. This one’s from Mina, this one’s from Hyojin, this one’s from Eunji-sunbae, this one’s from Jackson from basketball-”

Brian flinched. “Jackson gave you a card?”

“Yup! A lot of the guys from basketball did. Here- Jackson gave me one, so did Mark, so did Jaebum… oh! And this one’s from Sungjin!”

Brian turned his eyes sharply to his best friend. “You gave her a card? Why?”

Sungjin looked lost. “She’s our friend…?”

“No, she’s not! In fact, you know what I think of all your stupid little Valentine’s Day cards?” Brian demanded, snatching the whole stack out of your hands. Before you could speak, Brian had stuck his hands out of the bus window and dropped the entire bunch-all thirty-two cards- out of the window. You watched in absolute horror as all the cards given to you by your friends fluttered out of the window and flew into the air, some of them landing on the street, the sidewalk, and still others disappearing from sight.

You watched silently for a few moments, your hands covering your mouth in horror. Then you turned to Brian with a look of pure hatred, feeling your throat close up.

“I hate you,” you croaked out, leaning back in your seat and turning away from him so that he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

–

It was later that evening, while you were doing your homework, that your mother yelled for you to come out of your room. “Brian’s here to talk to you!” she called out. “Come downstairs!”

You went down to see Brian standing on your front porch, shifting uncomfortably between his feet. You glared at him, furious. You’d loved every single one of those Valentine’s Day cards and now you didn’t have any of them. Part of you wanted to punch him right in his pretty face but you held back, folding your arms across your chest and glaring at him.

“What?” you demanded.

Brian bit his lip and stared at the ground. “I’m sorry I threw your Valentine’s Daty cards out of the bus.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, Brian. You’re a jerk and I hate you, so why don’t you-”

“I know I shouldn’t have done that. You got all those cards because people like you, and people like you because you’re a nice person, so…” he trailed off, handing you a small bunch of cards. “You can have all eight of my cards. And… the one on top is from me.”

Before you could respond, he had turned around and rushed back to his own house, his cheeks pink and refusing to look you in the eyes. You looked down at the stack of cards in your hand. The eight cards at the bottom were addressed to Brian but the one on top was addressed to you. You opened the small pink card with a picture of a cartoon boy and girl holding hands and saw the printed message inside.

You’re cute! it read, and Brian had scribbled his name at the bottom. It was simple, nothing particularly touching or over-the-top or romantic.

But it was the nicest thing Brian Kang had ever done for you, and you hated him a little bit less that day.

–

A/N; Ahhhh, this one was so hard to write! I can’t even remotely imagine what Brian must have been like as a kid somehow, haha. @ijustwantacue, I kept thinking of your Three Little Kings stories while writing this, hahaha.

#day6 #day6 scenarios #day6 fanfiction #youngk scenario #brian kang #youngk fluff #day6 fluff #day6 drabbles #day6 imagines #youngk drabble #youngk imagines #brian fanfic #day6 cute

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dashielldeveron · 6 years

Text

Cedere Nescio, or, Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Tom Holland/Reader. College AU.

Warnings: dealing with mental health in a Big Way, extreme thirst, language (Latin), and swears. But that’s college, I guess. Notes: Tom’s a theatre major, and you’re a theatre minor.

_______________________________________________________________________

i Maybe you gave off a gay vibe? You really didn’t know. Would that the perception of your sexuality were as clear as those of Achilles and Patroclus.

You sit on the edge of the stage, taking a break from building sets. Tom’s up in the grid, adjusting lights and putting in gels, and his sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, by the grace of God. Even from this distance, his biceps ripple. His eyebrows are furrowed, lines drawn between them, as he bites his lower lip and sticks out his jaw very slightly.

You pop off the cap of a sharpie and hold it between your teeth, never letting it get wet, as you idly doodle perfututum onto the inside of your arm, covering some parallel lines you made with something a little sharper. Perfututum—it’s Latin for totally fucked. And it’s you.

Tom Holland’s untouchable, you know? Everyone, in the theatre department and out, wanted to be his friend; everyone wanted his approval or to impress him, and his genuine approval wasn’t easily earned. He dances through his classes with panache; everything is easy for him, a delight. His laughter reverberates off the walls of the arts building, and good night, did you want to be the cause of his laughter. Sometimes you were, when you gathered enough courage to speak to him, to have a legitimate conversation instead of his instructions to you in scene shop.

He calls down to you to stand centre stage; he’s trying to aim a light in the right direction. You push up on your knees and jog over where he wants you. You would go anywhere he directed you, do anything he wanted, and he didn’t have a clue—that oblivious bastard.

A curl falls across his forehead as he bends over the PAR-can, and you, squinting, hold a hand over your eyes when he swings the light your way. He’s too bright for you to look at.

ii The two of you are practising monologues due for class later that day. You’re alone in a hallway and holding his monologue in front of you. He’s sitting at your side and desperately running his hands through his hair as he strives to remembers the exact words.

“I am the dog,” you prompt him. His profile sharpens when he puckers his lips in concentration.

His eyes light up as he stares determinedly at the top of the lockers, not really seeing them. “I am the dog,” Tom says, bouncing his leg up and down and tapping his fingers on his knee, “Oh, the dog is me, and I am myself—”

He’s fidgeting too much. What you do in rehearsal determines what you do in performance, and this monologue isn’t a fidgeting sort of thing. He won’t stop fidgeting. Why’s he so nervous? Hector wasn’t even this nervous when he walked into battle and to his death. Tom is never nervous, so why is he now?

Hector, however, had verse upon verse written about him posthumously and a hero’s pyre, and Tom wasn’t a legend. You’ll make him one, and even if you don’t, you know he’ll be one some day.

“You’ve got to stop fidgeting,” you say, “Let’s find you something to hold instead of fidgeting.” Both of you glance to your sides in the hallway, but your backpacks are still in the scene shop. Nothing’s around. Inwardly, you beat your chest, fortifying all courage as Hector did for his troops—you roll your eyes in an exaggerated way and, in a stroke of rare brilliance, you say, “Here, hold this.”

You hold out your hand.

Tom’s face breaks into a grin, his even teeth showing, and he glances down at his lap before turning to you, crinkling his eyes in a different kind of smile, a closed-mouthed, tight-lipped thing of beauty that shows acceptance and gratefulness. Tom takes your hand, immediately lacing his fingers with yours, and he squeezes it firmly as he continues his monologue. His focus is no longer casually on the lockers but swops between your hands and your reactions. Tom tries to make you laugh, and he wrinkles his nose in triumph when he does.

When you move onto your monologue, Tom lazily twists the ring on your thumb between his own and his index finger. It’s not a purity ring, but it might as well be (it’s the one from Lord of the Rings). Tom doesn’t know that right now, this moment, is the farther you’ve ever gone with a guy, that this instance of holding hands is the most intimate you have ever been.

You’ve never dated, never been kissed—watched as your friends loved and lost, went on rampages, and downloaded tinder. It’s not that you don’t want these things; on the contrary, according to a BDSM test you made everyone take, you’re the kinkiest piece of shit you know. You hear stories and read a lot of fanfic about one night stands, sex before romance, and loads of kinky shit—things you’d never do in your actual, real life for a couple of reasons, the primary one being that since you got overly attached to cars you drove behind for more than ten minutes, who knows what would happen to you if someone ate you out and never spoke to you again? So, it wasn’t entirely intentional, but you were (fuck, you hated this about you and yet couldn’t bring yourself to compromise [and fuck, you hated this phrase]) waiting until marriage.

Tom slides the ring down to your knuckle. The skin where it usually sits is paler and softer than the rest of your thumb.

iii

Tom’s got bags under his eyes in scene shop today. His hair is dishevelled, roughed up like bed-head, and he’s got grey sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips. And he’s pissed.

When you ask him why, Tom says he had a tough voice lesson, but as the afternoon drags on (and you’re repairing an ancient piano with a staple gun), he, miraculously, allows himself to be vulnerable. He’s not doing okay, and it’s tearing him apart. His relationship with his parents is in an unfamiliar, rocky stage, and he’s lonely, so lonely; he’s secretly a ball of rage that he never shows (you wonder if you annoy him, especially when you talk about Greek culture). So much of Tom is hidden, because he’s insecure about it. He’s the only person you’ve ever met who can rival you in terms of self-deprecation, even though, in everyone’s eyes but his own, he has no reason for it.

Tom is furious at a lot of things, mostly himself, and you want him to be mad at you, in a safe, consensual bedroom sort of setting. He already was dominating socially in the scene shop, since he was more than capable at construction had to teach you, with unconditional patience, how to do anything, seeing as you had never picked up a power tool before this semester. Tom would order you about, and each time punched you in your stomach as you thought about taking commands up a notch. Aut futue aut pugnemus: either we fuck or we fight.

His insecurities mirror your own, save for where he is rage, you are sorrow. Two sides of the same coin, down to your side effects of depression. Loneliness reigns.

At some point, he catches himself, climbs down from the ladder, and grabs both of your hands, grazing the ring on your thumb. “Thank you,” he says, his eyes wide (eyelashes dark against his skin), gripping your hands tighter to show his earnestness, “for listening. I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you; you don’t deserve that. I usually don’t—I’m sorry. You’re very kind. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t apologise,” you say, your fingers curving into the bend of his palms, “I like listening to you. You have worthwhile things to say, and everyone needs to be heard. Don’t feel like you’re burdening me—” You say this, because you worry about it yourself. “—I want to be involved in what you’re going through.”

iv In one of the dreams between pressing snooze on your alarm and actually waking up, Tom wraps his hand around your wrist and leads you up the ladder to the grid, high above the rest of the stage. At the centre, where anyone could see, were anyone in the room, he releases your wrist, links his index fingers through the belt loops of your shorts, and yanks you close to him, his hipbones poking you briefly. Tom’s got your shoulder blades pressed on either side of a pipe holding up stage lights, and his tongue is between his teeth when he grins at you in the moment before.

Who was wearing strawberry chapstick? It doesn’t matter. His lips are pressed to yours, needy and wanting; you feel the crease of his brow through the kiss—don’t, you want to tell him, please relax, for one damn minute. He doesn’t bite but nibbles at your lower lip, and your tongue is on the inside of his teeth when he moves his hands from your belt loops to grip your waist, toying with the hem of your shirt. Your fingers curl into his hair, and you pull at the wisps at the nape of his neck. His breath hitches. Tom breaks the kiss, calls you my girl with a dark inflection, and shifts to kiss your neck, once, before he drags his mouth down your chest, stopping to press his lips at the spot beneath your naval where your shirt has ridden up.

And he’s thrown your shorts somewhere across the grid; your underwear’s been tucked into his back pocket. Tom’s bottom lip is firm as he pushes it up underneath your clit (he’s got friction around all of it now); he sucks on it just barely, and after testing how sensitive you were with the underside of his tongue, he smirks as he swops to the rougher topside. Your hips twitch. Tom holds you achingly still for too long; it doesn’t take the oracle of Delphi to know that you’re close—

But Tom keeps going after you’ve come, and you don’t want to chicken out for fear of what he’d think. With a shaking jaw, you keep your gaze on the ceiling, trying to zone out, because this is too much, all at once, and you can’t ah, ouch, that’s a lot. Your thighs are quivering, and yikes, please, no, stop, even though you still—

“I know it’s intense,” he says, the sound of an air pocket breaking in the second he pulls an inch away, “but you can take it.” Tom kisses your clit and reaches up for one of your hands, the one with the ring. “Be good for me.”

When your alarm goes off, your underwear is soaked, and when you wipe the rheum out of the corners of your eyes, you repeatedly snap the elastic against your skin as you debate whether or not taking a cold shower is worth it.

v The final rehearsal before the show opens, you and Tom are alone backstage. He’s in the lead (and an argyle sweatervest), and you’re one of the minor ensemble characters. You’ve had a hell of a day and are on the cusp of a panic attack, and Tom notices. He guides you over to a private spot and leans on a stack of crates, resting his forearms on top. You copy him, and your shoulders touch.

“How do you do it, Tom? How do you manage to keep it together all of the time? You never seem to crack.” You don’t count that day he vented to you. It wasn’t quite the same.

Tom laughs through his nose and leans close to you. His breath hits your ear and the back of your neck as he says, “To be honest, I’m cracking right now.”

He’s got to be. Rehearsals running until past midnight every night with hundreds of lines in Shakespearean verse, long afternoons building sets, being on duty as an RA, not to mention classes and keeping up with his friends. Oh, and sleep, you suppose. He’s had to shove everything he feels down so that he can deal with the next task. He hasn’t had time to think, and frankly, neither have you.

Tom insists he doesn’t want to talk about himself, because he’s been thinking a lot about that time you spoke to him about holy listening, how most people only wait for their turns to speak and how listening, genuinely, to help and to understand, was a gift that everyone deserves but hardly anyone receives. So, Tom takes your hand (again. It’s become practise for when it’s just the two of you, and you’re unsure how to handle this uncharted territory) and listens.

And thank God someone finally is.

You’re facing him as you speak softly about how you essentially act as a therapist to everyone in the department (even though you are newly learning healthy behaviours yourself), because you want people to have someone who will listen. You check in with people who are going through hard times, and you usually end conversations by asking the person how he’s going to take care of himself later that day. Tom knows this. He’s been watching.

What he didn’t know was that no one listens to you back. Whenever you pry yourself open in a half-hearted attempt to be vulnerable, everyone clams up. They shut down. No one notices when you’re having a hard time—he nudges you at this, and you make a stupid noise, dismissing it. When you mention that no one’s noticed the burn marks on the inside of your forearm near your elbow, he could, for the first time, make out the small, circular burns in spite of the dark, blue light. Tom slumps against the crates, and he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb.

“I’m tired of taking care of everyone,” you say, “I want to be taken care of.”

You’re breaking your chains that protect you from being vulnerable. You can’t watch the shadows on the wall any more. You’ve got to walk out of Plato’s cave and let the sunlight blind you, even though you don’t have a word for sunlight yet, for all you’ve known is a tame fire.

Tom wraps his arm around your bare shoulders (your costume isn’t as modest as you’d like, but for now, you’re grateful). He presses a kiss to your temple and holds it there, and an alarm goes off in your head, as if you’re not the one truly experiencing this. When Tom removes his lips, his furrowed brow goes to their spot. “You’re safe with me,” he says after a bit, “I hear you, and I want to take care of you.”

Both of you jump when other actors start channelling behind you to get to their places. Tom has the first line, but he tightens his grip around your shoulders and quickly prays aloud for you.

vi Closing night, the cast and crew goes to IHOP, and it’s a lot of overstimulation all at once. When they kick you out around one o’clock, your original driver is going home for the weekend, so you hitch a ride with Tom back to campus.

Tom is at a stop sign, his turn signal blinking to drive into the parking lot of your dorm, when you say, “I will pay you ten bucks to keep driving past the school.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Please. I can’t go back there right now.”

With a wry smile, Tom flips off the signal and keeps driving into the night. The city is quiet but still awake, still shining. He cranks up his music and points out his favourite restaurant to you, saying he’ll take you there soon. Next week, you decide. Urban decay increases the farther you get away: flickering street lights, crumbling buildings, a lone shopping cart, that one vape shop that no one goes to unless you feel like getting shot. Neon lights bleed together through the car window, and the stars blur and mumble under his 90s hip-hop.

You take backroad after backroad, curving around trees and into the valley, just going without knowing where, and eventually, you park near an overlook into the valley, showing the city teeming with a quiet energy, with a cemetery behind you in the trees.

You thank him again for how he’s been treating you during the run of the show; it’s incredible to have someone to depend on. To trust. He shrugs it off, and you talk about the show, how things could have gone better, how he did that one gesture just perfectly in the moment, how hey, you didn’t get all of your stage makeup off; let me get that for you, and Tom’s kissing you, lightly, barely, and he swipes some of your hair behind your ear. His nose prods yours when he breaks the kiss so that you open your eyes—he knows it was your first; he wants to make sure you’re okay. You nod, your mouth quirking upwards.

When you’re on his lap and his hands are in your hair (turns out you were the one with the hair-pulling thing, so die mad about it), neither of you are the strawberry chapstick ideal. You both taste like makeup remover, and sweat drips down between his shoulder blades and down your neck. Neither of you was performing for once. It was just the two of you, simple and vulnerable. You made Tom laugh when you pulled away to yawn, and you laughed yourself when you made him gasp at a simple kiss on his neck (muttering “Peccavi,” and refusing to tell him what it meant, even when he threatened to…he couldn’t think).

It should’ve been much too early to do this, let alone ever consider it, but it was Tom Holland, who understood. Courage, dear heart. You’re not ready, but you can promise. He probably knows what it means by now; he’s clever. He’s probably guessed. Just do it. Your cheek is pressed against his when you say, “It’s yours—” You twist your ring off your thumb and slid it onto his middle finger. “—if you want it.”

Tom shifts to kiss your cheek. “Not now. But someday, if you’re ready. If you want me to.” He smiles, and this time, you let the light blind you. “C’mon, love. Tell me what you want.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Peccavi -- I have sinned.

here’s the link to the BDSM test, if you’d like to take it.

#tom holland #spiderman #tom holland/reader #tom holland x reader #fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #DASH IT ALL

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writings-andstuff · 7 years

Text

Coincidences Part II (Bucky x Reader)

You guys have waited way too long for this and for that I’m sorry. But here it is, so I won’t start it with my usual long-winded preamble.

Happy Reading!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Modern AU thingy)

Words: 5046 (yikes, that’s the longest fic I’ve ever written)

Warnings: The usual tiny bit of swearing

Excerpt: For a moment, you wonder how this became your life. Yesterday, you were just another girl worrying about everything except her lack of a love life. Now that’s all you can think about because you’re flirting with a complete stranger. How insanely insane is that? For all you know, he could be a forty-something year old dude with three ex-wives and a beer-belly that could carry triplets. Somehow, though, you don’t think that’s likely.

Series Tags: @melanie451 @sebstanwassup @colagirl5 @winenighthoe @lovemarvelousfics @gotnotfeature @sebastianst-n @alwayshave-faith @hollycornish @iggytheboywonder

Tags: @langinator @fairchild21

Your name: submit What is this?

New Message from Mr. Catarcs

3:42 a.m u up?

You blink your eyes blearily and shift in bed. The sheet is wrapped around your legs like sweaty vines, constricting your movement. You growl angrily and throw them off, sitting up and relishing in the cool air of your apartment. Despite the frigid cold outside, you somehow still manage to wake up sweating. Maybe you’re a mutant.

Glancing over at your phone, it dings again to impatiently let you know that you still haven’t opened the text that woke you up. Usually your phone is switched to silent because of your job at the diner. There are always so many phones going off that it’s almost impossible to tell which is which. It’s just easier having your phone on silent because then you’re never worried about whether your phone is ringing or if it’s someone else’s. It saves you a lot of unnecessary anxiety.

But ever since last night’s conversation with James, you decided that you wanted to hear your phone ring with a text. It’s the first time in your life that you don’t want to miss a text.

You pick up the offending piece technology and swipe it open. Sure enough, the text is from James and you grin despite the fact that this message is the same one that woke you at—you squint at your alarm clock—3:49 a.m.

Deciding you are both thirsty and in need of some time in the open air of your apartment and not under the suffocating sheets, you get up and stretch. The floors are cold as you pad to the kitchen and fill a glass with water, shooting a text back to James.

3:51 a.m I am now

You wait for an answer while downing your glass of water and putting the empty glass in the sink again. Maybe he fell back asleep when you didn��t answer right away.

For a moment, you wonder how this became your life. Yesterday, you were just another girl worrying about everything except her lack of a love life. Now that’s all you can think about because you’re flirting with a complete stranger. How insanely insane is that? For all you know, he could be a forty-something year old dude with three ex-wives and a beer-belly that could carry triplets. Somehow, though, you don’t think that’s likely.

You have no proof of this, and absolutely no reason to believe he isn’t a creep except for a gut feeling. You resolve to ask his age whenever he decides to answer you.

You think about that. He could lie to you and tell you that he’s 20 when he’s really a lot older than that. The only way you’d truly know is if you meet him in person.

Suddenly you’re a little dizzy. This is just way too much to worry about at four a.m. You decide to just talk to him. You genuinely like his personality, and you don’t have to worry about all that other stuff until you actually meet him. If you actually meet him. That’s a big, neon-colored, flashing sign in the middle of absolute nowhere if.

Your phone dings and you look over from where you’re clutching the counter. You don’t notice how hard you were gripping the counter until you pull your palms away and it stings, lines etching themselves across your palm.

4:03 a.m srry didnt mean to wake u

Before you can even formulate a response, he’s texting you again. A double text. Gasp.

4:04 a.m just couldnt sleep. i was wondring if u wanted to talk

You tilt your head at your screen. He’s up in the middle of the night, and the first thing he does is text you? Why? Does he not have other people he can talk to? A stupid part of you, the same part that wants to meet him in person, thinks that maybe it’s because he wants to talk to you.

Maybe he does. Probably not. It’s too much to hope for. All his other friends are probably asleep. Regardless, not answering is not an option. Well, it is, but it’s not one you’re likely to explore, not when your chest has those freaky bubbles in it and your stomach is doing that stupid flippy-thingy. Nope. This, you decide, feels like High School when a cute boy texted you first and the instinct to giggle shot up to level 12.

4:06 a.m alright. what about?

Capitals, Y/N. What the hell happened to capitals?

You take your phone and pad back into your room, perching yourself up against the headboard with your knees drawn up to your chest and your phone in your hands as you wait for a response. Worrying your bottom lip, your mind drifts to work. You’ll have to get up in about three hours to be at work on time. Man, you’re going to be tired.

It’s then that your phone dings. You decide then that talking to him makes it worth the fatigue.

4:11 a.m twenty questions?

4:11 a.m Fine, but since you woke me up you have to go first.

The three dots that mean he’s typing pop up three different times before the response finally comes through.

4:15 a.m whatd u go to school 4?

You laugh.

4:15 a.m getting down to the nitty gritty personal stuff I see

You think for a moment. Telling him what you do isn’t divulging too much about yourself, so you decide it’s okay.

4:16 a.m lol yup thats me. i want the deep personal stuff. might just ask what ur fav color is nxt

4:16 a.m 1. editing; 2. sorry, that’s sacred info

4:17 a.m 1 ah i understand y ur a grammar nazi now…2 obviously

Thinking for a moment, you decide that favorites are just too cliche. Any conversation anyone has with some new friend ends in questions that start with “What’s your favorite…” You really want to know how old he is, but you figure you need an ice breaker before you get to the actual nitty gritty.

First, though, you must take the bait to piss him off:

4:19 a.m What would you have done if I hadn’t gone to college?

With a yawn, you lie back down and curl on your side, sitting your phone on the nightstand in front of you with your eyes glued to it. Once you realize that staring at it isn’t going to make him type faster, you turn over.

You’re totally not too eager. There’s no—

Ding!

You flip over so fast that you rip the sheet from the other side of the bed and end up with half of it between your stomach and the bed. It pulls from the bottom corner of the bed and is slightly uncomfortable, but you don’t care.

4:22 a.m high school?

4:23 a.m I didn’t go to high school FOR anything

You’re not sure if the use of caps-lock is weird, but you send it off anyways, deciding that emphasis on that one word is crucial to your meaning. He replies within seconds.

4:23 a.m i mean dunno bout u but i went to learn

You laugh, probably louder than is necessary.

4:24 a.m Touche. What’d you go to school for?

4:26 a.m repeating questions isnt alowed

Frowning, you wonder if he actually didn’t go to college. Should you push it? Maybe you should just change the question. There’s a part of you, the curious part that wanted to be a reporter when you were young, that really wants to know.

There isn’t too much time for you to think all of that before he’s texting you again. Usually, you’re the one to mercilessly double-text. James, it would seem, has you beat in this department. Also, you didn’t want to double-text a complete stranger.

Before you even look at the text, it hits you again: this is a complete stranger. The thought of not answering enters your mind again, but you push it down. No harm in just talking if neither of you meet, right? Right?

Right.

4:27 a.m i joined the military right out of HS

It’s a real Oh moment, and you find yourself staring at your screen as if it’s a real person. The military? What are you supposed to say to that? What’s the protocol for a text that you’re not sure how to answer? Should you just leave it alone? No; if you leave it alone then he’ll think he freaked you out. He hasn’t. Your brain is just short-circuiting on an answer.

Should you think him for his service? No. Not yet. You don’t want to call too much attention to it in case he doesn’t want to talk about it or he’s had bad experiences, but you’re still not sure how to respond. Have you taken too long already?

You summon up some courage and type out a message.

4:31 a.m Oh wow. Well, what would you have studied if you had gone?

You cringe, totally not meaning for that to sound like you were completely skipping over the issue altogether. James doesn’t seem to mind though, if his response is any indication.

4:32 a.m hmm history i think. ive always liked ww2 4 some reason

4:33 a.m well you’ve got AP european history girl right here. 1 of only 11 in the whole senior class to take it.

4:34 a.m well, smartypants i get 2 q’s bc u asked 2

You feel that you handled that effectively, and you were already beginning to formulate a plan in your head while he thought about his questions.

See, you know next to nothing about the military or what it’s all about except that it is for valiant people who want to serve their country. You can respect that, but you want—nay, need—to learn more. Convincing yourself that it’s purely for research purposes and not for anything else.

Regardless, you need to know more. It’s probably better to get it from someone who has been through it rather than from some cold, impersonal online source. And besides, you just so happen to know someone who was in the military. Someone who, in fact, lost a limb in the line of duty: Bucky Barnes.

As far as you know, Bucky lost his left arm in the military. You’d asked him before how he lost it and he hadn’t answered you, opting instead to change the subject to Steve and his new (at the time) art studio. It had been suspicious, but you understand that it must not be easy to speak about something like that.

You’ll have to go talk to Steve tomorrow morning to get Bucky’s number, but you think that maybe you’ll treat him to lunch in exchange for him giving you some details about the whole military thing. At the company, you get an hour off for lunch, which is just enough time to go out, interrogate a friend (respectfully, of course), and head back before the hour is up.

The plan was formed and you had your head already set on it. By the time James’ reply comes in, you’ve tuckered yourself out thinking that whole plan out. It is really late—er, early—after all.

4:41 a.m 1 how was ur day 2 how r u likely to spend a friday night

4:43 a.m I feel like I’m taking a Buzzfeed quiz

You yawn again and type out your answers.

4:44 a.m my day’s just begun. it’s four a.m. And probably reading or something

You put your phone down, thinking that you’ll just leave it there and wait for his reply, but you end up turning over and falling asleep.

In the morning, you turn your phone on silent again while you get ready for work, playing some music while you apply some light make-up.

It turned out that James hadn’t answered you anyway, so you would have been up waiting for a text that wasn’t going to come. Good thing you passed out.

Glancing at the clock, you notice that it’s 7:02 a.m and that Steve should be up. You don’t have to be at work until 8 and it’s not a long bus ride to get to work so you figure you can spare half an hour to haggle your best friend into giving up Bucky’s phone number. You wonder why you haven’t thought to get it sooner, figuring that you just never needed it.

You and Bucky only ever hung out with Steve or the rest of the gang. He was a friend of yours, but the two of you had never been too close in the two years of knowing each other. That said, you had heard a lot about each other even before meeting from Steve, and Bucky had expressed in the past how annoying he found it when Steve was constantly mentioning you in casual conversation.

It was the same with Bucky for you. Steve had been talking about his best friend Bucky ever since you had met him. It was in that way that you and Bucky had gotten to know each other sort of inadvertently.

Heading out the door and across the hall, you knock on Steve’s door lightly a few times. He’s a light sleeper anyways, and you don’t want to wake the whole hall with loud knocking. You only opt for knocking this time in case he’s not decent or something. Otherwise, you would have used your key.

Sure enough, Steve answers the door within a few minutes, clad in flannel pajama pants, a white V-neck, and holding a steaming cup of coffee. It smells amazing, and you realize then that in your rush you’d forgotten to make yourself some.

“Got another one of those and half an hour?”

Steve raises an eyebrow but steps aside to let you in. He’s a morning person, so you were sure on your way over here that you wouldn’t receive any resistance.

“What do you need?” he asks you, pouring you a cup of coffee not unlike how he’d done it the night before. He pours in a generous amount of milk and some sugar before stirring it and handing it to you, just the way you like it.

Blow, sip—“Mm,” you hum. “I need Bucky’s phone number.” You say it as nonchalantly as you can manage so as not to raise any flags to Steve, but by his surprised expression you can tell that you’ve raised them all.

“Bucky? Why?”

You shrug like it’s no big deal. “He has some info that I need.” It sounds so covert and cheesy that you almost giggle, but you manage to keep your composure while sipping your coffee again.

Steve tilts his head to the side almost imperceptibly, leaning his back against the counter across from you as you sit at a stool by his island. Said island juts out from a wall to half-enclose the kitchen area like a wrap-around ‘J’ with the island as the tail.

After a few moments of silence, it becomes clear that Steve is waiting for you to elaborate, and when you don’t indulge, he sighs, setting his cup down and crossing his arms.

“Okay, but don’t call him now,” Steve says, already ruffling in a drawer for a pen and paper. “He—he has trouble sleeping, and he needs as much of it as he can get before he has to work. And he’s taking Friday off so he has to log in more hours to make up the difference.” Steve hands you a piece of paper with numbers scribbled on it.

“Got it,” you said, taking the paper and sticking it in your bag. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Yeah,” he smiles at you. “No problem.”

You stand and head to the door, plan in motion and feeling good about it. Then you remember something and turn as you’re walking toward the door.

“Steve?”

He lifts his head from where he’s still standing in the kitchen sipping his coffee. You realize you’ve left yours there, but decide that it’s okay. You’ll survive. Somehow.

“Yeah?”

“Mom is bringing over pasta around two, but I won’t be home,” you can already see his eyes lighting up. “I told her to make extra and that you should be back by then. Can you—”

“—keep it here until you get home?” He knows you so well, it’s scary. “Yeah, but don’t expect me not to try some of it first.”

You fix him with a warning finger. “I’ll be over at seven and I will expect there to be enough for dinner and lunch tomorrow.”

He holds his hands up. “Hey, we all know my metabolism requires a lot of calories per day, and two is just in time for a late lunch.”

“Steve,” you warn.

“Alright,” he laughs. “I’ll leave some of your mother’s pasta for you for dinner.”

“That’s all I ask.”

You walk back over, kiss his cheek, take one more sip of your coffee, and then leave.

You tap your foot on the ground impatiently as you wait at your desk for the clock to turn from 11:29 to 11:30 so you can head for a bathroom break to call Bucky and find out if he’s busy for lunch.

James hadn’t texted you all day, but you figure that’s okay. He doesn’t always have to text you. He has a life. You push him mostly out of your head, or you try to. You fail miserably.

He’s the reason you’re meeting with Bucky anyways. As much as you don’t want to admit it, that’s the truth. Of course, you can’t tell Bucky that. You’ll just sound stupid. And then Bucky will tell Steve and Steve will have some sort of “talking to strangers is bad” intervention with you. You definitely don’t want to endure that.

11:30 hits and it’s officially been half an hour since your actual bathroom break. You don’t want to call attention to yourself in the office that you share with a whole bunch of other people in too-tightly-packed cubicles. You grab the slip of paper Steve had given you and head to the elevator.

By the time you make it to the downstairs bathroom, you realize that you forgot your phone upstairs on your desk. Great. Now what are you going to do? If you go back up to get it, you’ll look suspicious. Of course, you shouldn’t really care what your coworkers think of you, but you do. Everybody says they don’t care about peer acceptance but most actually do.

It’s human nature.

You sigh angrily and look around. The lobby is all marble floors and a little shop where they sell overpriced snacks and drinks. There’s a desk to the left of the elevator bank with one woman sitting in a black wheelie chair making and taking phone calls.

Can you just ask her to borrow one of her phones? There’s an empty seat next to her. Maybe you can explain your situation and just ask this woman if you can borrow the phone.

The only thing is that you don’t know this woman. Your supers rented the office space with the endless rows of cubicles from the people who owned the building. This woman obviously works for the building management, and not for anyone you know.

You decide it’s better that she doesn’t know you. It’s less personal. You can call Bucky, discuss details, and be done with it.

You sidle over and lean on the high desk. Its polished marble top is so high that you have to lean over it a little to see the woman. She’s plump, with dark hair, blue eyes, and a squished face. She looks the opposite of friendly. She’s wearing a black headset that you realize is some sort of Bluetooth.

You wait until she is done speaking to talk to her.

“Um, hello?”

She doesn’t look at you for a moment, reaching up instinctively as if she thinks you’re in her headset before she realizes she’s speaking to a real person. She eyes you.

“What?”

You were right to guess she wasn’t very friendly.

“I was wondering if I could borrow your phone,” you say kindly. “I have to call someone and I accidentally left my phone upstairs.”

She looks bored and eyes you for another second before looking back at her computer screen. “Just go up and get it.”

“It’s urgent,” you lie. Man, this is going to be awkward after you make the call right in front of her and she finds out its personal.

She eyes you again. “You have five minutes.”

You smile at her. “I’ll only need three.”

You wait as she plops one of the black phones on top of the counter, and it’s so high that you have to go up on your tiptoes to see the number pad.

“Type extension 382 first, then the number.”

With that, she gets back to her work and you pull the phone from the receiver. You flatten the paper on the desk and do as she instructed.

You wonder if he’ll even pick up. This will be an unknown number to him, and you know that if it were you, you wouldn’t answer.

It rings three times before a familiar, gruff voice answers.

“Hello?”

“Bucky? It’s Y/N.”

He sounds surprised. “Y/N?” There’s a pause, a honking noise, and then he sounds as if he’s realized something. “Steve gave you my number.”

“Yeah,” you say. “I had to call you from a work phone, though.”

You catch the woman looking up at you briefly and can tell she’s annoyed that this is a personal call. You’re sure this call needs to be as short as you can possibly make it or else you’re afraid she’ll just cut it herself.

“Oh.”

“Listen, are you busy for lunch in, like, half an hour?”

Bucky thinks for a moment on the other line and the lady looks at you again, her gaze becoming more venomous. You’re pretty sure that once she looks at you a third time she’s going to end your call for you.

Just as you’re about to scold him for an answer, Bucky speaks up.

“Yeah, I’m—”

You feel bad, but you have to cut him off.

“Okay, great. Meet me at the Deli down the street from Steve’s studio at 12 sharp. My treat.”

Bucky chuckled on the other end. “Your treat? What do you need from me?”

You smile despite the situation. “Just your brain.”

“Sure you don’t want Banner or Stark for that one?”

“I’m sure,” the woman was giving you her last angry glare. You had to go. “See you then, Buck.”

“Looking forward to having my brain probed. Bye, Y/N.”

You hang up, thank the lady, and make your way back upstairs as fast as you can. 12:00 can’t come quick enough.

Bucky wonders what you want to talk to him about as he drives a company truck to the deli and parallel parks a couple blocks down. The flatbed of the truck is filled with mismatched pieces of junk, from broken computers to the plastic from the top of a printer. It’s all stuff that can be broken down and reprocessed at a plant.

The city is taking down an old building and putting a new office building up in its place. It’s Bucky’s job as the assistant to take all the not-so-useless junk and dispose of it somewhere where it can be reused.

He doesn’t have to be at the plant until two, and he finished loading everything up early, so he has about two hours or so to spare.

Walking into the Deli, he’s hit with a wave of merciful heat and he immediately pulls his coat off. The deli is small with few patrons a small line for take-out. One woman is sipping an iced coffee through a straw while she types madly on a computer. Two men are sitting at a table wearing yellow vests and eating huge subs. Bucky wonders if he would have ended up as one of them, working for the DPW if he hadn’t begun working with the demolition company.

It takes him barely a moment of looking around to find Y/N sitting in a corner flanked by two windows with an empty seat across from her. There’s a wrapped sandwich and a water sitting on the table in front of the other seat.

She’s smoothing out the wrapper of her own sandwich as if the creases in the paper wrapping are offending and should not be allowed to exist.

“Hey,” he says, walking over and taking a seat in front of her.

She looks up at him and smiles. “Hey,” she shoots back, and then nods to the sandwich. “Got you a BLT.”

Bucky’s suspicions are steadily growing. He pulls the paper from around the sandwich and lays it on the table as Y/N had done, though he couldn’t care less about the creases. He looks between the sandwich and the girl, eyeing both with the suspicion of someone who thinks he’s being played.

“What’s this about?” he asks.

She swallows and puts her sandwich down, looking like she’s about to ask him a ground-breaking, life-changing question. Her eyes quickly flick over to his arm and he’s suddenly very sure he knows what this is about.

But that’s strange. Yesterday—or really early this morning—he was talking to Y/M/N about him having been in the military. Now Y/N is eyeing his arm like she really wants to ask what happened but she doesn’t want to sound impolite.

Then there’s the fact that they’re both editors. That’s weird. And how Y/N reminds him of Y/M/N.

He’s an apopheniac, he has to be. He’s seeing coincidences where there really aren’t any. It’s his brain playing tricks on him. In truth, maybe he just wants this strange girl to be Y/N. Though, probably not. Then again, maybe this whole time he thought he was jealous of Y/N for being so close to Steve, he was really jealous of Steve for being so close to Y/N.

That thought derails him so fast that he doesn’t hear it when Y/N actually asks her question.

She lets out a breath as if it’s a load-off to finally ask him, and he’s struck with the realization that if he says he didn’t hear her, she probably won’t take it well. He waits for her to say something else, but when she doesn’t he takes a leap of faith based on her glance at his arm.

“You want to know how I lost my arm,” he says, rather than asks. If her expression of shock and discomfort is any indication, he’s screwed up.

Big time.

Shit.

“I mean,” she straightens in her chair. “I guess—it’s sorta part of it? Yeah.”

She sounds so lost and he feels so bad.

He still has no idea what her original question was though. ‘Part of it.’ His thoughts drift back to his earlier conversation with the girl he’s been talking to over text. The military. Could that be what Y/N wants to know about?

No, it’s just too weird. There’s no way. But he has to know.

“The military? You want to know about the military?”

She nods, looking slightly guilty. “Yeah,” he tries not to let his breath of relief show, “I—uh, fact-checking. I’m fact-checking an article.”

Bucky nods slowly, sandwich forgotten. She’s a terribly liar. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Sitting back as if she’s been punched in the gut, she blinks once, twice, three times—“I’m not lying.”

“Your body language gives you away.”

“Is that something you learned in the military?”

Bucky chuckles. “That’s something I learned from a whole lot of spy movies. Seriously, why do you want to know?”

She takes a bite of her sandwich and speaks around it. Altogether, not the most sexy, but that’s okay.

“Research,” she says slowly.

Bucky creases his eyebrows. “For?”

“For a project?”

“If you’re going to lie, at least lie with conviction,” Bucky says. “One of these days, I’m going to teach you how to lie the right way.”

Laughing, she pulls her chair in a little more and sits forward. The picture of seriousness, she says, “Alright, if I tell you, you need to promise me you won’t tell Steve.” She sounds reluctant to tell him at all. This must not have been her plan.

Bucky draws a cross over his heart with his index finger. “Cross my heart or hope to die.”

She shakes her head. “Gotta be stronger than that. You have to pinkie promise.”

He gasps dramatically. “Not a pinkie promise. This must really be serious.”

Reaching over, she swats his arm. “Buck, I’m serious.”

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, holding up his pinkie. She links hers with his and he’s momentarily struck by how soft her skin is. Then it’s over. “Tell me.”

She steels herself, he can see it. Jeez, it must really be something serious or she wouldn’t be swearing him to secrecy using childish, yet efficient tactics. It strikes him that she tells Steve everything, same as him, so for her to say she doesn’t want him to know must mean it’s not necessarily something good.

He lets himself think for a moment that she might be about to confess that she’s the mystery girl he’s been texting. It’s much more likely, though, that she’s about to tell him she’s got feelings for Steve or something.

Steeling himself as well, he waits as she takes a deep breath.

“I may or may not—”

“You may,” he corrects. She glares at him.

“—have answered a text from a guy who was trying to text someone else—”

This is where Bucky stops listening and his internal monologue becomes one word:

Fuck.

111 notes · View notes

franeridart · 6 years

Note

i miss your haikyuu art so much it was the best - dont get me wrong i fucking adore your bnha art but like,,,,, haikyuu,,,,,,,

Well pal, aren’t you lucky, you might have been missing from my blog in the past two weeks but if you scroll down just three posts you might notice I’ve been drawing haikyuu again (x x x)

Anon said:People don’t remember baccano anymore? :o

I assumed so since it’s been ten years since it aired and the fandom has always been small and quiet anyway, but it looks like I assumed wrong!!!! That made me so happy, honestly? Baccano’s my fav anime ever, it’s always super nice to see it appreciated!

Anon said:I’M HAPPY YOU LIKE BACCANO! NOBODY KNOWS IT

Anon said:Omg thanks for the baccano au I love it.

Anon said: BACCANO!! I love you so much right now!!!

Anon said: YOU DID A BACCANO CROSSOVER!! IVE NEVER SEEN ONE DUDE MAJOR PROPS TO YOU!!!! I literally love that series, it was one of my first ones so seeing it mixed with one of my current favourites is surreal!!

Anon said: DID YOU JUT DO A BACCANO AU OMG ITA BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE WATCHED THAT IT WAS MY FAVE 😭😭😭😭😭 i cried so much during it all the time it was so badass

This is exactly what I was talking about!!! So HAPPY all of you love that anime as much as I do! And thank you SO MUCH for liking the crossover!!!!!!! ;O;

Anon said:Fran, just out of curiosity, what colors do you associate with Bakugou/Kirishima/the rest of the squad?

The ones I use to write their dialogues! Orange for Bakugou, red for Kirishima, gold for Sero, yellow for Kaminari and pink for Ashido! :D

Anon said: tumblr has been a butt and not notified me of your post but i saw your nishinoya and i died i love the way you draw him and boiiiiii bokuto and kuroo be looking smokin and your kiribaku (is that right??? im a failure i cant remember!!!:( ) is amazing SO MUCH FLUFF i die of happiness. keep up the lovely work 💕👌👌👌

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE KIND WORDS HOLY SMOKES!!!!!!!

Anon said:I love your art its so amazing.

Thank youuu ;u;

Anon said:I was just wondering if I could use one of your drawings of Kuroo as a phone background (just for personal use! It’s fine if you don’t want me too! I’m a huge fan and I hope you’re having a nice day~)

Sure! As long as it’s just for personal use I don’t mind at all!!

Anon said:Oh wow, thanks for the tutorial! I think it will be really helpful!

I’m glad to hear that!!!! :D

Anon said: what is the jock / nerd thing?

At this point it’s mostly a meme, I’d say haha

Anon said:ASDFGHJKL *-* Your art is to beautiful for the world

That’s!!!! Too kind of you oh man (〃´ﾉω`〃)

Anon said:Your kiri is so pretty.

THANK YOU!! Every Kiri is super pretty tho, it’s the intrinsic Kirishima-ness of the Kiris that makes them beautiful whatever style they’re drawn in! :O

Anon said:YOUR ZORA ITS SO GOOD I LOVE HIM AS MUCH AS YOU DO AND WHEN I SAW YOU DRAW HIM I WAS LIKE: a m a z i n g 💕💕💕

OH MAN THANK YOU I love that disaster of a trickster so much I’m glad I could make him come out okay ;O;

Anon said:so i left tumblr a while ago?? but i check back every so often bc ur pretty much my favorite tumblr artist ever

Aw man thank you so so so much this means the world to me! ;u; sometimes it’s hard for me to see any improvement in my own art so knowing that you can see it helps a lot!

Anon said:your art is literally my favourite thing in the entire world i love it all! i hope you’re having a good day and taking care of yourself! x

GOSH THANK U I hope you’re having the best day too, anon!!!!

Anon said:Asahi is so pretty when you draw him, I love it; my gentle son, in your amazing art style.

I’M!!!!!! Glad you liked him!!!!!!! That boy is 100% out of my comfort zone so knowing he came out okay is super nice!!!!! :D

Anon said:The way I drew the bakusquad in that one set of images … They’re like … On the cover of Vogue or something. It’s aesthetically good to my eyes man. Also you kinda got me into tetsukami?? I don’t understand it at all but now im into it BC of ur fanart and bc of other fanart but Imma blame u and im grateful to have another ship to hyperfixate over. Anyway I love youu and your art man, i wish u many good days

Oh man I love you too anon this ask made me so happy???? And I’m especially happy I could get you into tetsukami! It doesn’t make much sense as a ship, does it? But they’d be fun interacting and their quirks work well together, so I have fun thinking about them! I hope they’ll interact in the classes 1a and 1b will have to share in the future! :D

Anon said:Oh I love your Noya’s, so glad you drew my boy again!:)

Thank you for liking him!!!!!! He’s hard to draw but I love him and he makes me happy!!! What a boy!!!

Anon said:Have you seen little noya in the newest chapter

I HAVE little boyo already had his blond hair how cute is that! The newest chapter made me really warm inside I really loved the whole speech Noya made ;u; my inspiring little lightning bolt !!

Anon said:I really really love your bnha art! But put some highlights on the kirabakus one, you probably have the quirk to melt my heart with them ;w;

That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever read!!!!! Thank you SO MUCH!!!!!! ;O;

Anon said:Who do you think would propose? Bakugo or Kirishima???

I actually answered a similar question a while ago! But I can’t find it so I guess to sum it up I mostly think at some point it’d just become something both of them have talked about throught the years enough times that by then it’ll just be something they are gonna do, sooner or later, and when it’ll happen it’ll be more like “we have a stable income and a house and a dog and a cat and are p much already married we should really do this already” - in a scenario like that either of the two works, for me haha

Anon said:the best thing was that I just a moment before u posted I felt bad and pissed ad sad, but then all that disappeared ;V;

I’m!!!!! So happy to know I could help you like that!!!! ;O;

Anon said:Can I just say, I’ve been following your art a long time (I’ve always loved it!) and I’ve really noticed a lot of growth and improvement in your style? The thing that always impresses me most is how you are able to take simplified facial features and make them SO expressive. You convey emotions so well and I love it so much. Thanks for always giving us art to smile about! Hope you are having a lovely day!

THANK YOU SO MUCH OH MY G OD!!!! I’m!!!!! crying!!!! probably!!!!!!! FrICK!!!! ;A;

Anon said:KINONOYA!!!!!!

INDEED!!!!! What a good relationship they have!!!!!

Anon said:You draw Sero so good oml he’s too pretty

Anon said:THAT SERO YOU DREW!!! *clutches heart* n i c e !!!!

;O; I’m glad you like him?????? gods!!!!

Anon said:I love the way you draw Kaminari, he looks beautiful in your art style! ^^

SOB you guys are all so nice to me I’m gonna cry for real here ;U; thank you!!!

Anon said:Whenever I’m sad I look at your art and everything feels better.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! happy I can help you with your mood!!!!!!!

Anon said:When you Kiri with his hair down, I’m always like “that’s it, that’s the cutest Kiri ever” and then you draw him with it spiked and I’m like “no wait, there it is, the cutest Kiri.” And now you go and give me both Kiri’s in that adorable pair of sketches and how is that even fair because how am I supposed to handle that? I can’t even decide anymore. All your kiris are the cutest Kiri.

THANK YOU !!!!!!!!! All Kiris are the cutest Kiris tho, aren’t they? What an inherently cute boy he is!!!

Anon said:i showed my friend your art and since we both find it super good, we both decided to try to draw more regularly because we want get better and get a smooth(? idk how to say it in english lmao) style like yours so thank you for the motivation/inspiration!!

:O !!!!!! I hope you and your friend will have fun while at it, anon!!!!! :D

Anon said:I love your bakushima

AND I LOVE YOU

Anon said:drawing ppl from above is so cool though!! i really like these kinda pics ✨ (esp bo and tetsu, so /cool/!!) dont give up, fran❤

Please don’t enable me anon, if you give me the green light I’m gonna keep on drawing that sorta angle forever hahahaha (thank u so much for the compliment, tho!!!!)

Anon said: ahhh i love your recent kiribaku drawings! they are so cool!!

That was about the red and teal ones, right? Thank you so much!!!! Working with colors like that isn’t something I do often, so I’m really really happy that you guys ended up liking them!!!

Anon said: Row! Row! Fight the power!!

I don’t know what brought this on but HECK YES

Anon said:Man I love all your art, fanart and OCs alike! And your BNHA is such an inspiration and one of the reasons I started writing fic. Have a great day!

OH BOY that’s such a nice thing to know!! I hope you’re having lotsa fun writing fics, anon!! And I also hope you’re having a great day, too!!!

Anon said:OK, i’m sorry for sounding this emotional, but OMG your art makes me cry. it’s just… so beautiful… *there i go again* *crying*

*hands u tissue* thank you so much but please don’t cry!!!!

Anon said:I’M CRYING LUCA’S BIRTHDAY IS THE DAY BEFORE MINE, I’M A PHYSICS MAJOR, A MAJOR DOG (and cat) PERSON, AS WELL AS A MORNING PERSON LIKE WH A T

You’re the second person that tells me they’re really similar to one of my ocs!!!! I wonder what that means? :O but it’s a fun thing to know, anyway!!! :D I hope you don’t mind Luca being so similar to you, anon haha

Anon said: What do you think would happen if eraserhead erased fatgum’s quirk?

He’d probably just lose his ability to absorb hits and then re-use their power? :? but if he’s fat he’s gonna stay fat and if he’s slim he’s gonna stay slim, I think :O

Anon said:Oh my god you know kekkai sensen I’m actually crying I love kekkai sensen but no one I know likes it/knows about it and aaaaaaa I love your art and you drew something from kekkai sensen and thats amazing!!!!

I’M GLAD YOU LIKED IT and I know right? Kkss has such a small fandom! Which to me is super weird considering how much following Trigun used to have? :O it’s definitely one of the best anime I’ve seen in recent times, tho!!!

Anon said:FRAAAANNNNNNNN!!!! I’m soo excited!! I might be getting a tote from your shop for Christmas! My friend asked what I wanted, so I looked at your store, and chose a tote with Mina, and Hagakure (?) And he told me to send him the link!

HOLY SMOKES THANK YOU FOR BUYING MY STUFF ANON THIS SERIOUSLY MEANS THE WORLD TO ME!!!!!!!

Anon said: Your art is so good! I especially love your black and white stuff! Its really punchy! Also all your Kiribaku content makes my heart melt!!!!!!

*gross sobbing* thank you so much!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:would it be okay…if i drew luca (giving credit to you tho obv) i just love him so much GOD

YES!!!!!! Please do link me to it if you do draw him, I wanna see!!!!! :D

Anon said:Hey! I really liked your OCs and i was especially intrigued by Max and Leo!! Do you mind telling us more about their relationship? They look so sweet!!! Love ya and keep being awesome!

Thank you so much for liking my kids!!!! ;O; and sadly I can’t tell you too much about them cause their story is a bit still up in the air as far as details go, but in general they used to be best friends back when they were kids, then the accident that gave Leo his scars happened and for reason they lost track of each other for a long while - they met again recently, tho! Leo’s been in love with Max since they were babies and being able to talk to him and interact with him again makes him incredibly happy/mushy/soft but also absurdly and unreasonably overprotective since he’s really, really scared of losing him again - Max… because of plot-related reasons hasn’t realized that Leo is the kid he used to know back when he was super young, so his falling in love with him happens as the story progresses. He finds the overprotectiveness silly and unecessary, but he doesn’t exactly mind it? He has a feeling it helps Leo more than it helps him, so he lets him do his thing. All in all, maybe Max takes more care of Leo than Leo of Max. Welp, their story is kind of a mess haha

Anon said:Have you ever thought about doing nsfw? Or at least something kinda hot?

This is actually answered in my faq! But yeah, no, I don’t do nsfw, sorry! Something kinda hot… maybe in the future? But I gotta be in a very specific mood that doesn’t come around too often, so I dunno if and when that’s gonna be!

#fran answers #oc asks #g a h #anonymous

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stressedoutteenager · 7 years

Text

The perfect timing (Part IV)

This is based on a prompt I got: Soulmate AU: In which you turn 18 and see everything through your soulmate’s eyes when you’re not sleeping anymore but are not fully awake yet.

Part I , Part II , Part III

‘Why did I see less than a minute of my soulmate's room?'

'Reasons for only seeing blurry through your soulmate's eyes'

'Usual amount of time seeing your soulmate's room'

Sana has been sitting on her bed, googling these types of question the whole afternoon.

She didn't want to care. She tried to ignore the thoughts regarding her soulmate since her birthday. It’s been a week now.

It didn't work. Obviously.

She's interested, though. Why would she only see so little and then only blurry things?

The average amount of time for people to see through their soulmates eyes is two and a half minutes. Still, there can be exceptions. Some people have been reporting to have seen what their soulmate saw for more than three minutes.

Sana frowns. They're talking about two and a half minutes. Or even more. Her stomach drops and she hopes to find something else, an answer to satisfy her.

Simple answer for seeing things blurry in that phase is that you were simply too tired.

Sana shakes her head. That's not right. None of her friends or family told her about seeing things blurry. Not even random people at school. Yes, in the beginning but not throughout the whole thing.

The common held belief that the blurriness is caused by your soulmate falling back asleep, has been proven wrong.

Sana furrows her eyebrows at this article. People really do research about this? Well, if they didn't Sana couldn't be reading about it now.

Is there something wrong with her? Why does it seem like there is no answer to her question.

Right when Sana is about to give up to find a satisfying answer, because she needs to leave the house soon, her eye catches something promising.

Before clicking on it all she can read is: This is how my soulmate made me hate him before I even met him!

Sana doesn't hate her soulmate, whoever that is. But she's frustrated about how things happened and if she needs to blame someone other than herself... they would be on the receiving end.

So she clicks on the post.

As the title says, my soulmate made me hate him before I even met him! Why? Because that dumbass, who's now my husband and whom I love very much, knew that I was his soulmate because he had seen my room on his birthday weeks before mine. He woke up early and just sat on his bed, hoping I'd wake up and see his room. See that he's my soulmate. He knew I would recognize that room immediately. We've been friends forever. He was the reason why I only saw his room for less than a minute and he was the reason why anything I saw was blurry. Well, speaking to many people about this, including some experts I may have contacted before I knew why my experience on my 18th birthday was so different from my friends' and family's, I'm pretty sure about my answer.

When your soulmate suspects you of being their soulmate and they think about you while you're in that hazy phase, then it's very likely for you to have a blurry vision and for that to last less than a minute.

Sana leans back, resting her head on the wall. She stares at the ceiling and thinks about it. Has this been fact checked or did someone just make this up? It's scary to her, though. Everything this guy has explained fits perfectly to what Sana has experienced.

She doesn't have time to think about it too much because she gets a text from Chris saying they're outside, waiting for her.

Somehow, none of her friends wanted to go to a big party on this year's New Year’s Eve. Instead they choose to go to Noora's flat and watch movies and eat their way into the New Year.

That was fine by Sana; she didn't feel like doing much else anyway.

Grabbing her bag and checking if she has her keys and phone she leaves her room.

Even though Chris, Vilde and Eva are all together in the Van outside of Sana's house those three are texting in the group chat.

Reading those while walking is not the best idea, not when the other person in the hallway is doing something similar.

Sana crashes into someone. Since her brother's friends are here once again, there are a few possibilities of who it is but looking up from her phone, mumbling a sorry, Sana sees Yousef standing in front of her.

She's surprised. She hasn't seen him in a week. Since her birthday. The other guys were here as per usual but Yousef wasn't. Well, that's what Sana thought until her mother had asked Elias at the breakfast table why Yousef left so much earlier than the rest of the guys the day before.

He wasn't there when Sana left the house and he wasn't there when Sana came back.

She's not that self-centred that she thinks it's because of her. But he also didn't text her in the past week. Not once. He did not even answer to a stupid meme Sana sent him, thinking he'd enjoy it.

So seeing him now, after a week, feels like seeing him the first time in ages.

"I.. sorry. Didn't know you were home.", Yousef says, taking a step back.

He smiles at Sana weakly, not convincingly. His eyes wander over Sana's face and she smiles just as not convincingly as him.

She can't bite her tongue and quietly mumbles: "You wouldn't be here if you knew."

Well, Yousef still hears it and she's glad that he did. He alternates between looking at her for a few seconds and then not being able to look her in the eyes for the next seconds.

Sana sighs. What did she do wrong?

Awkwardly standing there is not what her plans were for today, not even if it's with Yousef. Looking down on her phone and seeing the girls text her non-stop to come downstairs she sighs and looks right at Yousef.

He's been looking at Sana with a look that she can't interpret.

"Look, Yousef.", she says which makes him look at her with wide eyes. "I made my life a lot harder by not talking about things straight out so whatever I did that makes you so distant or if you just don't want to talk to me anymore, you need tell me and not avoid me."

She walks past him and closes her eyes for a moment. Talking about problems helps solve those, she learned that the hard way but she's really not going to suffer more than this one week because they didn't talk to each other. Still, she can barely breathe while putting on her shoes.

She likes Yousef, a lot. She thought he might like him too. But now he didn't talk to her for a week and apparently he avoided seeing her at all costs. She doesn't dare to check if he's still standing there or if he's already gone when she opens the front door.

"You know what I need?", Sana asks over the phone, a day later.

She's sitting in the kitchen, eating some of the dessert her mom had made the previous day and talking to Chris over the phone.

"What? Tell me!", Chris answers.

Sana takes another forkful of the chocolaty heaven in front of her and starts talking. She gestures with the fork while doing that.

"I need for people to speak up. If they have a problem with someone, just go talk to them. It's not that hard. I learned to do that. It's a whole lot better than ignoring people and avoiding them. Tell them how it is and it's done."

Sana can't stop talking once she starts. Chris left the movie marathon early last night because her family went to a cabin. Otherwise they would have talked in person.

Now she doesn't even get to hear Chris' answer because she has to hang up when as usual five boys storm into the kitchen after each other. Are they ever alone? And didn't they sleep over at Yousef's? Elias had texted Sana yesterday evening to tell her that after Sana left the boys decided to go to Yousef's for a change and that they all would sleep over there. Just so Sana doesn’t worry about Elias’ whereabouts. If they would end up in the Bakkoush house the next noon why would they even bother taking all their stuff to Yousef's?

Not that those boys make any sense, anyway.

"Sana!", Elias says very enthusiastically.

Sana raises her eyebrows in a questioning manner. Why is he so overly happy?

"Elias!", she answers in the same tone. Mikael looks between the siblings and decides to say something.

"Okay, sorry to interrupt but..", his eyes are drawn to the chocolate cake in front of Sana, "... that looks way too good. Can I have some?"

Sana nods: "Sure, help yourself."

Usually it would be anyone but him that would ask that question.

Sana lets her eyes wander over the boys standing in her kitchen. Elias and Mutta are just smiling a lot at Sana, actually grinning, and swaying back and forth on their feet.

She narrows her eyes at them. What's up?

Then she sees Adam who stands at the window and has his lips pressed together. He keeps looking at Sana, to the kitchen door and back at her.

She follows his gaze and of course Yousef is standing at the door. She catches him looking at her. With a smile. Not a forced one. The complete opposite of the day before.

Sana feels herself get happier instantly but she forces herself to stay controlled, to not quickly fall back to how things were before her birthday. She still had to talk to Yousef or rather let him explain.

When she doesn't smile back, Yousef's smile falters but a small smile still plays on his lips.

This is very weird. None of them talk, all of them look at Sana. Mikael is stuffing his face with the cake but doesn't even look like he's enjoying it too much.

"What's up with you all today?"

"Nothing!", Adam is the first one to blurt out. After that he presses his lips together again. His eyes going to Yousef and grinning at him.

"How are you?", Mikael asks her with his mouth full. Mikael talking with his mouth full is probably the weirdest thing about all of this. He's the one to scold Mutta anytime he eats too loudly or speaks with food in his mouth.

"Good.", Sana answers sceptically, narrowing her eyes. "Are you sure you all are okay?"

Elias is the one to answer his little sister, walking over to her and standing behind her chair. He leans down and hugs her closely and answers when he lets her go.

"We're great. Really. Amazing. And you?"

"Like I said.. good but why are you..", she stops talking when they all hear a loud noise.

It's coming from Adam and everyone turns to him. "Dropped my phone.", he says sheepishly and leans down to pick it up.

It's only then that Sana notices something.

Adam's wearing a dark blue shirt. A dark blue shirt with dark grey and white splatters over one side.

Sana's eyes widen and she blinks a few times to make sure she sees it correctly.

It's the same shirt as the one that was draped over a chair in her soulmate's room. It's similar, at least. Very similar.

Sana suddenly finds it hard to breathe. Her chest rises and falls way too quickly. Her heart aches.

Is it really the same shirt? It's awfully similar. And it's definitely not a shirt she has seen on anyone else so far and men's fashion is very limited.

When Adam stands back up and sees Sana staring at him, rather at his side, with her eyebrows furrowed and a slight frown on her face, he gets worried.

Did they say something to upset her?

Sana notices him looking back at her and now finally looks at him, not just at his shirt.

"Adam, your shirt... it's nice."

He looks down on himself and looks back up with smile. He looks at his friends standing somewhere in the room with a knowing look before he answers Sana.

"Yeah, that happened when we painted the walls but it looks good and I somehow ended up wearing it today."

When they painted the walls.

One dark grey wall and three white walls.

This doesn't make sense to Sana. She always thought that Adam and Mikael... that Yousef and her maybe...

She gulps and just slowly nods, forcing herself to smile a little.

Suddenly she feels like she's being suffocated. She lowers her gaze to the table and closes her eyes for a second. Then she just stands up and has to leave. She likes Adam but only as a friend. A good friend, but a friend. In her hurry to get out of the room she doesn't look at any of the boys.

She doesn't look at Yousef while passing him to get out of the kitchen.

#sana bakkoush #yousef acar #yousana #elias bakkoush #chris berg #mutta tatouti #mikael overlie boukhal #adam malik #soulmate au #yousana fic #skam fic

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paladzin-blog · 7 years

Photo

Dear Mr. Ackerman, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

a further read : welcome to the Harry Potter AU ! underneath the read-more you will find detailed explanations about each characteristic for Levi in this AU. I ask that you please do not take my headcanons for this verse ( if possible just ask me and I’m sure we work something out ! ) none of the images above are mine but found through google and credit for the artwork goes to the respected artist. I did however crop the images, edit & add the text so please do not take this edit as I spent a very long time making it for this AU specifically. all information below contains information found via pottermore or through extensive research as well as canon material found in Levi’s canon verse.

summary. blood status : half - blood wand : hawthorn, phoenix core, 12 3/4″, medium flexibility house : slytherin patronus : scorpion

subject. blood status

I was actually on the fence about what status to put Levi in. to say he is muggle born is out of the question. it’s not out of “ oh i want to him to be extra ” , I would actually love to see how a muggle-born Levi play differently ! but for this AU I was on the fence about either a pureblood or half blood. however canonly I think half-blood would more appropriate :

canonly , the ackermans were a bloodline, with very few surviving members now but it is one that I can consider ancient almost ? considering they were there before the wall. that being said , it’s fairly OK for me to start presuming with a long history that is presented in canon , it’d make sense for him to pure blood. it also furthers this theory because canonly , ackermans did survive in the Great Titan War & they also are a bloodline that contained the awakening power.

this goes along with theories ( in the HP universe ) that were written back in the early eighteenth century that listed possible ( but not entirely true ) factors and/or traits that made up pure blood lines. one of being onset of magical ability before the age of three. it’s unclear when Levi’s power was truly provoked as all we are shown in SNK is back when he was a child he did train with Kenny ( i think I am mistaking this factor in the sense Im not sure if he said exactly when his was provoked. however I am not basing this off of ACWNR ) . with that mind I want to bring back the ancient bloodline of Ackerman. I say ancient because of how long they’ve been around but a minor detail that could possilbly factor Levi into pureblood is the fact that around the early 1930′s there was a published listing of at least 28 families that were true purebloods known as the Sacred Twenty-Eight. it’s not that far of a stretch to say that the ackermans were very well one of those 28 families on that list.

however I do believe they’d earn the title “ blood traitors ” because canonly they did not go along with the First King causing a near extinction of their family line as well as the fact that the ackermans I feel like wouldn’t have been disinterested and/or disgusted by muggles. if anything I firmly believe that at some point they would have had a mixture of muggle ancestors down the line.

coming to Levi, I want to also say that at some point ( in the 1692s - ??? ) is when the magic community did go into hiding & the marriages between muggle & non-muggle dropped significantly which leads to my ultimate reasoning of how I prefer him to be half blood. as I said before, the ackermans ( especially going off canon material of how they showed to go against the king ) would have been blood traitors because the persecution of Muggles to them was something they were not proud of nor something they jeer’d for as other pure bloods. which brings me to my last point. levi’s father.

in canon material, we do not know the father. we only know it could possibly ( and most likely is ) a costumer that Kuchel was with. because of this known fact in canon, I decided to have Levi’s father a muggle. his mother had fallen a muggle man but because of the laws at the time & how much fear there was already surrounding the ackermans ( for being blood traitors ) and the persecution of Muggles, they did not ever marry. instead, it’s safe to presume ties to cut out of the safety for them both. however, it’s sad to say Kuchel did not live long & the whereabouts of his muggle father are still unknown to this day.

subject. wand

sub-subject i. wood

HAWTHORN. in short it is complex, intriguing, conflicted nature, proven talent.

a further read : we concur about hawthorn wands, which are complex and intriguing in their natures, just like the owners who best suit them. Hawthorn wands may be particularly suited to healing magic, but they are also adept at curses, and I have generally observed that the hawthorn wand seems most at home with a conflicted nature, or with a witch or wizard passing through a period of turmoil. Hawthorn is not easy to master, however, and I would only ever consider placing a hawthorn wand in the hands of a witch or wizard of proven talent, or the consequences might be dangerous. Hawthorn wands have a notable peculiarity: their spells can, when badly handled, backfire.

characteristic i. complex

levi canonly is already a hard character to understand for most of his comrades. many times we can see where cadets were slightly confused by his choice of words and/or actions. however, this can also be viewed as a complex psychosis. it can also be defined as a repressed memories that exert a dominating influence upon the personality. I would more so go with this reasoning because in canon, Levi is very intimidating without even trying ( or sometimes even meaning to be ). this could stem from the sheer way he was thrown into how to come off as “do not approach me” during his time with Kenny. because with Kenny, it can be drawn from that he taught Levi how to survive but he also abandoned him. another reasoning for it being a possible repressed memory is that fact that Levi had to learn how to discipline at such a young age. he had to learn how to strike fear, how to threaten, how to kill. all of those memories that he endured as a child have been so ingrained him that they had carved into who he is today to an extent.

for this AU, I’d like to have that be a reasoning for him. as being blood traitors it’s not a long shot that eventually the ackermans were sought out after & because being introduced to muggle ways wasn’t something to their bloodline, it was to Levi. To recall, do you guys remember when Narcissa visited Snape ? to ask him to keep Draco safe ? I honestly wanted to use that but for Kuchel and Kenny. it’s clear that some pure blood lines don’t wish to be involved with voldemort but they appear as if they had no choice. for this AU, it’s basically the same situation for the Ackermans except they don’t mind muggles which makes them an even bigger threat & target. at some point, Kuchel had sought out Kenny to ask him to ensure the well-being of her baby boy. to keep Levi under wraps, Kenny decided to teach him both muggle-magic ( yaknow just doing normal muggle things ) and magic. he taught Levi while there are spells that can kill there are also muggle made weapons that can as well. of course, Kenny also taught him that trust was to be earned. muggle or not, you had to basically look out for number one. those lessons ended up rubbing off on Levi which makes him who he is today.

characteristic ii. intriguing

I purely think this more so is for my AU. while in canon, I want to know more about the Ackermans & they are indeed a family of ancient warriors, I wanted to base this off the history I have set for them in this AU. part of this can be read in part one of this AU as I go into detail about his bloodline.

characteristic iii. conflicted nature

If I am honest, I think Levi is very conflicted. while it’s a strong argument that he knows what he is doing, I think sometimes he isn’t sure of himself which causes the what if questions to be forefront in his mind. more than once he has often said he doesn’t know what the right outcome is, sometimes doesn’t know if he himself made the right choice or if another comrade made the right choice. that in itself shows inner conflict he has with himself because no one can know for sure what can happen especially when the choice is a heavy one to make.

characteristic iv. proven talent

to keep this part short, as it will be, Levi had to prove himself throughout canon. first time to Kenny as a child, he had to prove he had it in him to survive but even then ? he was left alone. to the public. I’m sure it took him a little bit to gain the title humanity’s strongest. & even with the Military Police, he had to prove himself ( more so the legion ) during the court room bit that they are more than capable. I think Levi is constantly needing to prove himself to someone but the reasoning behind this is because of his small stature. many look down upon him & think what can this shorty can do ??? which leads to whomever eventually finding out what he can do. the biggest one is him proving his talent that earned him the title humanity’s strongest.

sub-subject ii. core

PHOENIX.

a further read : Phoenix feathers are capable of the greatest range of magic, though they may take longer than either unicorn or dragon cores to reveal this. They show the most initiative, sometimes acting of their own accord, a quality that many witches and wizards dislike.Phoenix feather wands are always the pickiest when it comes to potential owners, for the creature from which they are taken is one of the most independent and detached in the world. These wands are the hardest to tame and to personalise, and their allegiance is usually hard won.

characteristic i. range of magic

the reason I picked this core for Levi ( despite the fact that it’s also my own ) is because as I explained a little bit above, Kenny taught him a wide variety of magic to ensure Levi knew how to defend, harm, & if it came down to it, kill. before getting his own wand, Levi had practiced with wands that had Kenny had come across growing up and ( from winning duels and/or unknown reasons ) therefore, he ended up getting a wand that eventually reflected the amount of magic he knew from being taught however, it did take some time to bring it to it’s fullest potential & even to this day there are some hexes & jinxes he could improve on.

characteristic ii. initiative, acting of their own accord.

It is needless for me to explain that Levi does sometimes act on impulse. while he does follow through with orders, he is known to go into his… ackerman state ?? per say, & it’s not too far to of a stretch to also include that he doesn’t blindly trust Erwin. he is fully aware of situations & if applicable with reasoning he can full willingly to go against his orders.

characteristic iii. pickiest owners, independent & allegiance is usually hard won

Levi’s trust in people is in short almost non-existence. it is almost near impossible to win some form of trust with Levi except those who prove themselves trustworthy to him in one way or another. independence being the same reason as above, he isn’t one to be a follow the leader blindly. he is still himself & it’s been shown canonly he will question judgement if it calls for it. I included pickiest owners because in a way Levi is somewhat picky with whom he trusts. I think this stems from his time with Kenny, he trust an adult to care for him as a child & it ended up being a lost cause. therefore, trust was already rocky with Levi even with those whom he proved himself too.

sub-subject iii. length & flexibility

Length : 12 3/4″

a further read : longer wands might suit taller wizards, but they tend to be drawn to bigger personalities, and those of a more spacious and dramatic style of magic. Neater wands favour more elegant and refined spell-casting. However, no single aspect of wand composition should be considered in isolation of all the others, and the type of wood, the core and the flexibility may either counterbalance or enhance the attributes of the wand’s length.

there was not much I could find that pre-determines the length of wands. this length I’ve decided because in this verse there is a stance Levi has when casting spells. much like his blade holding in canon, his wand style holding differs which means he does seem to cast more spacious forms of magic. this isn’t saying he holds his wand in the same form as he does his blades in canon but there is a notable difference ( ie : the way Voldemort holds his higher than the average wizard )

flexibility has come to the same dead end & I’ve tried to do the best I could with how Levi is canonly. the flexibility from what I gather can reflect who the person is as it also ties in with the other characteristics of the person’s wand. I think Levi’s wand flexibility would fall under medium flexibility. Which means, he is adaptable to change but there are factors that need to be present to make him change his ways. ie, trust or the latter

subject. patronus

there is a lot of information on the patronus charm. a further extended version if you wish to read can be found of course on pottermore. because the amount of information & I don’t wish to copy the entire thing I’m going to listing some key points on what the charm means in turn with the Ackerman family.

sub-subject i. can also be used as a messenger between wizards.

this bit is a key point to Ackermans history I have set up for Levi. as being called blood traitors it’s no doubt the last remaining of the an ancient bloodline cut ties or have appeared to do. whereabouts of each other & messages were done in secrecy but particularly they did choose to not only use owls, but also used this charm. which I will explain why as we go into this further.

sub-subject ii. to produce this charm is generally considered a mark of superior magical ability & it is considered one of the most ancient charms.

I know I sound like a broken record but hear me out. To re-call, the ackermans canonly were a famous line of warriors that existed before the wall was first built & they even survived the great titan war that took place from ??? - the year 743. with that being said, the ackermans are very long line of history that molded the canon world we see today in SNK ( partly molded considering there were members that survived the war ). with that being said, I think it’s highly plausible to have the ackermans as one of the few first families to master this but this also ties in with the canon fact that they hold a special power of their own ( re: the awakening power ) which I want to be a force in factor of how strong their bloodline really is & how powerful their magic can be but also dangerous.

sub-subject iii. Some witches and wizards may be unable to produce a Patronus at all until they have undergone some kind of psychic shock.

this is a huge reason Levi was able to produce at least an incorporeal patronus at a young age. canonly, Levi was born into poverty. he was most likely born in the brothel that his mother worked & during those times, considering the state of what bits we see of the underground in canon, I am not too certain were kids of whores were kept but it’s not a huge shot in the dark to say that Levi may have been exposed sexual themes ( ie: perhaps had seen it by accident or walked in at the wrong time per say before he was told where to stay & how long ) along with the fact that he KILLED at a very young age. he learned how to take a life. learned what it meant to SURVIVE.

with this in mind as his canon background, his AU one is slightly different. back in 1692, when the magically community went into hiding, the ackermans ( while seen as pure blood status ) did deem it wrong to persecute Muggles. the reason I say this is because Levi adores human life. he wants to save it though sometimes it’s in an any means necessary. for this au, this means all life muggle or not. first lets start with the mother : kuchel was already damned as she fell for a muggle-born man. to keep them both safe during that time, after Levi was in the process of being born, Kuchel decided to leave Germany to go to England in hopes that they would not be found out. to skip a little bit of this as to not ramble one, they were eventually found from Kuchel taking muggle jobs as a means to survive but it had been common for some dark wizards to take different forms ( auroras ) which lead to her death. Levi had been taught how to hide from view, go unseen which is exactly what he did. to keep this short : it is a mere reflection per say of his canon background we get in the original series not acwnr. the family history will be further explained possibly when I do the bit on his house.

sub-subject iv. The form of a Patronus may change during the course of a witch or wizard’s life. Instances have been known of the form of the Patronus transforming due to bereavement, falling in love or profound shifts in a person’s character, it is usual, but not inevitable, for a Patronus to take the form of an animal commonly found in the caster’s native country

the actual form of a corporeal patronus was difficult for Levi to master but he has practiced ( and contiunes too ) and is able to produce one but the lengths of time for how long they stand vary. as for the form of Levi’s patronus, I tried to do my best to look up wide varieties of patronus’ and their possible meanings as well animal symbolism. I know a lot of people often go for bird types when referring to Levi, but whether it’s due to his 3DMG skills, his want to be free ( as he strives to fight for that ) or another reason, I wanted something more. more that reflects an entire character breakdown. for this reason I’ve chosen a scorpion. here’s a little breakdown for my reasoning.

SCORPION.

characteristic i. an emblem of strength

we all know of how Levi is titled humanity’s strongest. this part reflects the physical attributes as well how they go unseen. Levi can go unseen if he wishes, which is more or less a tactic he has picked up from Kenny both in canon and AU. more so, i can’t stress enough that they, the ackerman line, hold the awakening power. which also was a factor in me picking the scorpion

characteristic ii. destruction

now while I know Levi adores human life & wants nothing more than the survival of his peers, there is also a destructive sense he has. he goes on for lack of better word, rampages during the female titan arc, during the uprising arc, during the beast titan. I think the destruction can be viewed as somewhat self-destruction as in he doesn’t realize how much strength he is using and how much wear / tear that has to have on his body. but this also reflects the aftermath of his enemies when he is finished with them.

characteristic iii. self-protection

this characteristic is a bit unlike Levi as he does a lot to protect himself but I don’t believe he is one to be selfish in saving only himself. however I did base this off of his time growing up when he learned how to protect himself but maybe not so much as he got older as he grew to value all human life.

characteristic iv. scorpion people tend to have an aggressive shell, being known for as intimidating.

this one is pretty self explanatory as Levi’s personality can be felt in an entire room. he often does come off as intimidating but most of the time he doesn’t mean to come off that. in canon, I think from the way he was raised there’s a lack of social interaction and more so a view of “ be cautious with whom you trust ” which can bleed into how he is today. in simple terms socially awkward.

characteristic v. wield a lot of power but often reserve it unless provoked / crossed

this one was a huge bit for me as I see Levi of someone who doesn’t absentmindedly go around beating the shit of everyone. there is a reason that causes him to lash out either in the form of fists ( ie : when someone taunts him trying to size him up ) or when there is a loss of someone ( ie : him during the female titan arc & beast titan arc & uprising )

characteristic vi. the impressive defenses protect a soft, emotional core.

this characteristic seemed a bit off at first to me but looking at Levi canonly a lot of major actions are done from EMOTIONAL responses. Levi saw his entire squad his family dead because of the female titan, it’s clear when he comes upon her, he took out his rage that he held against her. during the uprising arc, when Hange’s squad is lost due to Kenny, there’s already history with them but I think the emotional ties he has with Kenny attribute to his responses. the beast titan arc, there’s already a fuel going in Levi as he cut down each titan and I think the realization of just how many died because of the beast titan, there’s that sense of looking for ANYONE. and when it comes upon him that he did sentence Erwin to die, there’s an even more fuel going in him which again ties to an emotional response.

subject. house

a further read : there is not much explaining in detail about Levi’s house but let’s look over the basis that makes slytherin : cunning, ambitious, resourceful, shrewd, & determined. other factors may / may not include : blood status, cleverness, & a certain disregard for the rules. but before I dive into that here’s a little bit information to keep in mind about Slytherins in general. While yes this house known for producing dark wizards, be sure to note that NOT every single dark wizard came from Slytherin. Remember Peter Pettigrew ? the rat ? Guess what ? he was actually a Gryffindor ! I know shocking right ? Also, remember Professor Quill ? he was a ravenclaw ! also : Merlin himself is highly believed to have been in Slytherin ! there’s a mixture of where dark wizards come from, do not automatically default to believing that Levi is evil in this verse just because he is in Slytherin.

there’s also some wizards who actually went against their own default house views. many believe that all Slytherins instantly hate those who are half-blood or mudblood. do remember that Horace Slughorn adored Lily who was actually a muggle ! and Tonks’ sister ? Andromeda Tonks ? she married a muggle ! let’s forget Sirius’ own brother who switched out Voldemorts’ horcruxes and tried to get his house elf to destroy it. Malfoy even had huge character development and he’s the biggest slytherin that was involved besides Tom. also a huge note to remember : there were plenty of slytherins that were brought as reinforcements during the Battle of Hogwarts.

characteristic i. cunning

I know a lot of people would suggest that everything Levi does / says is straight forward & I agree ! ;( re: both crab & goyle were placed in Slytherin && it’s safe to say they weren’t the most cunning characters in slytherin ! ) this trait doesn’t actually apply heavily to Levi HOWEVER : I do believe when he was training with Kenny , well learning how to survive at that young of an age, I do think he learned how to be cunning until maybe perhaps it just didn’t work out for him somewhere along the line. this goes for his HP verse as well. while he was younger, he learned how to deceive people to gain whatever he needed. while in canon he isn’t constantly cunning and constantly deceiving others, this isn’t to say that he is against playing dirty if it necessary.

characteristic ii. ambitious / determined

Honestly, this can be applied to Levi in various situations of his life. I think the first one can be found when Kenny came across him. there was a strong desire to prove himself to Kenny, and to show that he can do what he was taught. second, when he possibly first joined the legion. now, I know a lot of people go off ACWNR but however I don’t simply because it’s not canon. I think he did have to prove to others that he was very capable of handling himself with the gear & was more than capable of taking out titans ie : earning himself the title humanity’s strongest. but this also goes along with the notion that Levi doesn’t tolerate failure with himself. failure is a huge insecurity of his which is why I believe he pushes himself to up most limits. this can be heavily seen especially when he’s fighting Zeke. Levi doesn’t want to give in, he doesn’t want to STOP because he made a promise to a dead man whom meant a great deal to him. ambitious isn’t something that is necessary meant for ill intentions but it can also be something that can be self destruction as well as self building.

characteristic iii. resourceful

I think this can go hand in hand with him over all. Levi is someone who can adapt to situations & do so almost on the spot. as someone who lived in poverty, I’m sure he found all kinds of odd stuff that he sought a use for. but this doesn’t stop at objects this can also go for people, such as hitch & marlo. while he could have simply killed them due to the fact that they were going to try to kill him and his team, he saw a use for them. while he could have killed dimo reeves very easily, he didn’t. why ? because there was a use in having him alive. all these instances, he found there to be a more importance & use in having them alive. this also goes for thinking ways out of situations. take for when Kenny corned him so to speak at that inn. Levi used objects around them, used a reflection in a bottle to see where Kenny was & to also aim.

characteristic iv. shrewd

this is a pretty big part of Levi if I’m entirely honest. Levi is constantly assessing people, judging them, almost analyzing them. I wouldn’t say this is entirely how he has always been but I think a big of part of this again comes from how he was raised as a child. you can’t trust anyone is basically a mantra he was raised upon and it was near ingrained into him. but this also can go for his personality. Levi doesn’t entirely mean to come off as an intimidating person but it’s pretty clear he does have a personality that everyone can feel in the room.

characteristic v. loyalty

yes, you read that right ! believe it or not, us slytherins are actually pretty loyal people however there’s a slight cost to this loyalty. the loyalty of a slytherin is only given to those who… for lack of better prove themselves worthy. there’s only a select few who slytherins actually care / are loyal too. this can actually be a huge factor for Levi. Levi is loyal but not to everyone he meets. the people who gain his loyalty are ones he can consider close friends / family ie: Erwin, Hange, Mike, his first & second squad. those are the people who have meaning to him, who have proven something or have a quality he either lacks or finds interesting. with this loyalty comes a high protection of those who mean something to him. ie, going after Zeke when he was completely drained because he asked Erwin for a suicide mission, noting when something is off about Hange in the way they change their behavior, overall being protective of his squad & tries to look out for their well-being. this can also be reflected in his emotional response when Hange’s squad is killed under his watch. that is, in a way, an extension of Hange them-self & he killed that part of them.

characteristic vi. expert at hiding their true feelings

I think this trait can be flexible & be noted to say not all slytherins have this trait. however, think of Snape. He cared heavily for Harry and while I know there’s a lot of controversy over his character, I just think if he didn’t care he could have simply gave Harry up at any given moment. this may just be a movie thing as it’s been a bit since I’ve read the book but I re-call in the third movie he did try to protect the trio when Remus had gone into his werewolf mode even though just a second ago he was all in his “POTTER!” rage. but also, take note of Draco. Draco tried to keep himself together during the last years knowing that he basically had no choice but did he outright show that ? no he didn’t. he tried to do so in secrecy until he was walked upon by Harry. even when he was face to face with Dumbledore he tried to be brave until he just couldn’t.

I say all that to show instances because I think this is a part of who Levi is. whether it’s from trying to get praise and not receiving any from Kenny, it’s clear that Levi sometimes hides his emotions or at least tries too but often it does come out in the only way he seems to know how with actions instead of words. when his squad died, he didn’t talk about simply trying to pass off a poor joke with Eren but earlier we saw him basically tear up Annie. when he finally re-groups with Hange and the others, he doesn’t out right state his reasoning for wanting to save Erwin but we know why. we saw him take out that vengeance on Zeke, we saw his reaction when he noted that Erwin was still breathing. basically, Levi does feel intensely he’s just more one to not say nor talk about it out right ( except maybe with Hange ) & he shows it through action.

characteristic vii. slytherin in general

there’s a lot more reasons I could honestly list about how I see Levi to be Slytherin but this has already gotten super long ! do note that some of these traits are ones often found in slytherins but can be flexible ! overall, I don’t think Levi would fall into the category of being an evil slytherin bc as I said above, remember that other houses have produced their own share of bad eggs in the bunch. other traits of slytherin can include

thinking of what if scenarios getting even instead of just getting mad having a non-existent idea of forget and forgive FEARING FAILURE often will try to save their own skin first ( however I don’t think this applies to Levi considering he does try to look out for his whole squad )

this list goes on and on and while I adore writing this and want to keep wanting this essay, I think I will end it here. overall, if you do wish want to know about his house just ask me ! I’ll be more than glad to go into reasoning.

#002 . akin to the snake in garden of eve; your fangs are not as poisonous as they believe : V. HP #( headcanon tag pending )#( good luck on reading this all the way through honestly )

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