#READ THEIR STUFF IT'S AMAZING AND WILL WRING TEARS FROM YOUR EYES

[basilbellona]

Spoilers for It's Burned Into My Mind and White & Gray — A PK Crossover

A new, ever-present threat (baby-fication)

@dropout-ninja @grollow your crossovers are a sandbox and by god am I going to dig

[allurilove]

Hi! I love your fics so much and I was wondering if you could do a popular yan x reader fic but not using the trope of reader either hates or doesn’t care about the yan. Don’t get me wrong I love that trope but sometimes it’s overused and sometimes feels insincere like yan only “loves” reader because they’re different and not really because of their personality. Instead id like it to where reader is a fan of popular yan but not like a die hard fan who’s in one of his cult like fan clubs or like knows everything about him like his shoe size and other weird stuff like that. More like a fan who just admires him because of how good at socializing he is and how he’s so successful at almost everything he does. Basically to reader he’s just like a good role model who makes reader strive to be better. I just feel like when yan falls for reader it’d be more sincere because reader would be showing their true personality to him and get to know each other as friends. Anyways if you do this request I’d like to thank you so much in advance and say that I think your writing is awesome 🫶🫶🫶

Have you ever met a man that was good at everything like this man in front of you? You were seriously starstruck by how knowledgeable and confident he sounded. Your classmate was presenting his project to the class: his back straight like an arrow, his eyes looking into the crowd of his peers, and every sentence was so perfect that it almost brought the professor to tears. You knew how amazing he was when he first opened his mouth, people had brought out their laptops and notebooks to make sure they got everything he said.

You had seen him around a lot. He spent hours at the library doing his homework after his classes, ate lunch with his friend group and for dinner he was seen visiting his family nearby, and he even managed to work in a short session at the gym. He had his whole life together and organized--while you scrambled to get everything turned in on time. College was hard, and you weren't even sure if you wanted to go in the first place. It was just expensive, made you miserable, and you were drowning in fees.

You decided to approach him one day. He was sitting alone in the corner of a coffee shop, his pen lightly tapping against the wooden table as his brows knitted together. His back was hunched slightly, and his attention was absorbed by the book in front of him. You wondered if it was rude to interrupt him, but he had more pages on the left than the right-- so he had been reading for a while and was close to finishing.

Your footsteps were light and slow, your pulse quickening with each silent minute that passed. You had been staring at him for a while, just wringing the strap of your bag in contemplation and doubt. Just as you began to open your mouth, taking a leap of courage, he muttered without lifting his eyes from his table, “Seats not taken.”

"Are you hungry?" he then gestured to the croissant that was conveniently placed down by the waiter after you sat down. Your classmate then placed the thick novel he was reading away, and he had an easy smile on his face. "It's all yours. I was thinking about eating another... but ah, I don't need it." he jokingly patted his belly.

He kept ordering you more and more croissants, to the point where the café had brought you four takeout boxes. You couldn't really decline, he just kept talking over you whenever you protested and waved down the waiter. Your friendship really started to take off the moment he sat down next to you in class. He passed you his insightful notes, and if you had any questions you turned to him.

“What does that even mean?” you whispered, pointing to a random formula your math professor had drawn. “There's no way that's humanely possible to remember all of that."

Your classmate snorted, his arm resting around your shoulders. He leaned in closer, whispering in your ear: “It means we should have another study session at my dorm.”

A study session with him was absolute hell. First, he liked to just raw dog it. No music. Second, while the free food was nice, he drank a shit ton of coffee and redbull. You weren't exactly ecstatic thinking about what would happen to your body afterwards. And lastly, he could study for hours! Hours without even stopping once he finds his 'groove.' You were always the one to tap out in the end, and fall asleep on top of his bed.

"Oh don't give me that look. Don't worry, I'll pay for the energy drinks this time." He smiled widely and ruffled up your hair.

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (gender neutral) Reader

Summary: stressing about the future is no fun, so Eddie takes you on an impulse trip to remind you to live in the moment, to remind you of just how alive the two of you are

Warnings: pure unadulterated fluff

A/N: consider this an apology for my Save a Prayer fic lmao!! this was inspired by Younger by Imagine Dragons, I highly highly recommend listening to this song whilst you read, or just listening to the song in general, bc honestly it’s just amazing!! I was also rushing to finish this and post it asap so sorry if it’s not my best work, but anyways I hope this fic brings you some comfort and I hope you guys enjoy <33

!! vol. 2 spoiler in the a/n at the end !!

“What’s up, baby?” Eddie asks you softly, nudging your shoulder with his own gently.

You’d lost interest in whatever movie was playing a long time ago, drifting into a complete world of your own as your thoughts took over the entirety of your attention.

“Hmm?” You hum, still not even fully comprehending what Eddie had said.

He sits up next to you, turning the tv volume down a bit and then twisting so that he could face you. He brings his hand to rest on your thigh, his thumb moving back and forth in a small comforting gesture.

“I said, what’s up?” He repeats gently.

You blink a few times as you pull yourself out of your reverie. You rub your eyes with your fists as you try to get the real world back into focus. You were also trying to hide the tears that had been threatening to spill for nearly half an hour now.

But there was no hiding from Eddie; he just knew you too well.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You looks at you earnestly, dipping his head down so he could meet your eyes. “Was the movie really that bad?” He jokes lightly, bringing a tiny smile to your face.

You sniff as the tears finally break through. You shake your head.

“No. Honestly I wasn’t even watching it” you admit in a small voice. “I’m sorry, I just have so much other stuff on my mind” you can hear the sadness in your own voice, it was laced with something like defeat.

“So tell me” Eddie shrugs.

You let out a huff of air, shaking your head slightly.

“It’s all stupid anyway, mostly overthinking things I guess, it’s dumb” you ramble quietly, trying your best to look and sound casual.

“Tell me anyway” he pushes gently.

He looks at you so earnestly, with such softness and tenderness in those big dark eyes of his. You feel your heart swell and the tears brim in your eyes. You shrug and shake your head again as you speak softly.

“It’s just stuff about the future. Like what am I actually gonna do with my life once I finish school? Like where do I want to go next, what do I want to do, who do I want to be. I also have my parents’ expectations to try and live up to, and… I don’t know. It all just feels so big, so overwhelming. I feel like I need to have my entire life planned out already or something. Like there’s just no time, no room to breathe” you ramble quickly, the words leaving your mouth faster than your brain had time to make sense of them.

Eddie just nods and says nothing for a second as he takes in all your words.

“Wow, that’s a lot” he finally agrees after a moment.

“Yeah I told you it was dumb” you wring your hands in your lap awkwardly.

Eddie takes his hand and places it over yours, stopping you from fidgeting with them. He squeezes your hands gently.

“That’s not what I said, I just mean it’s a lot. It’s heavy stuff” he shrugs lightly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand reassuringly.

“Honestly it feels like a massive weight sitting on my chest. Like it’s only a minute away from crushing me all together. Like the stress of it all is literally taking over my body” you feel your lower lip start to quiver, a waiver in your voice.

“Being an adult, or I guess nearly being an adult, sucks huh” he chuckles softly, gaining the smallest of smiles from you.

“Hmm, take me be back to when I was younger” you muse quietly.

“Oh if I could, I would, my love” he lifts a hand to stroke your face gently. “But, if you think about it, we’ll never be younger than we are right now,” he raises an eyebrow at you, “so let’s go live like it, even if it's just for tonight”

You shake your head questioningly at him.

You suddenly see a mischievous gleam in his eyes, his lips tugging with a smirk. He’d just had an idea, you could see it plainly in his face.

“Come on, let's go” he wiggles his eyebrows at you before getting off the couch to stand in front of you.

“Uh, go where?” You half laugh in confusion.

“Nowhere. Anywhere. Everywhere” he whispers dramatically.

“It’s already past midnight you know...” you hesitate meekly.

But Eddie just extends his arm, holding out his hand to you.

“Do you trust me?” He continues with his melodramatic tone.

Despite your uncertainty at what he was up to you you nod, and place your hand in his. His fingers wrap around yours as he gently pulls you up off the couch.

“Good, then let’s go!” He winks, dragging you out the trailer.

---

Eddie grins practically the entire drive. His hand rests on your thigh as he drives, his thumb still keeping up the small reassuring stroking motion.

“Eddie, where are we going?”

You’d tried to work out where you were but dark country roads mad pit difficult to tell The only things you could see being fields, bushes, and the night sky. It was as if there was no one that existed right now but the two of you.

Eddie just grins even wider but keeps his eyes on the road.

“I told you baby, nowhere and everywhere” the dramatic tone returning to his voice. “Just trust me,” he adds a bit more seriously, “we’re almost there.”

You sigh but still can’t help the smile that plasters your face.

True to his word, not five minutes later Eddie is slowing down and pulling off to the side of the road. He drives through a small gap in the bushes that lined sides of the road. Eddie parks his van and quickly jumps out. A second later he’s round your side, opening the door for you. He bows and holds his hand out for you as if you were a princess stepping out of a carriage. You giggle and roll your eyes as he helps you down from the van.

You step round to the front of the car and can’t help the gasp of awe that leaves your mouth when you take in the view in front of you. You keep hold of Eddie’s hand, feeling him give you a light squeeze, as you stare wide eyed at where he’d taken you.

You were in a wide and open field that seemed to run on for miles. Just off to the left was a lake, with the most beautiful willow tree leaning just on the bank. Above you the night sky was alive. The stars shone so bright they almost didn’t look real. The complete lack of light pollution meaning they were free to burn in their full glory. The full moon shone just as brightly, letting you have just enough light to appreciate the scene in front of you. You look over to see Eddie grinning at you like a proud child.

“Eddie” you breathe, almost speechless. “This place, i- it’s...”

“Pretty cool right?”

You shake your head in slight disbelief. “I don’t think there’s a word magnificent enough to describe it.”

“Mhmm” he nods his agreement enthusiastically.

He goes to to walk further into the field, tugging on your hand. But you hesitate and pull back.

“But what exactly are we doing here Eddie?” You ask sadly.

“We,” Eddie starts as he comes to stand in front of you, his hands on your upper arms. “We are here to just get away. To live in the moment, to be free. No worries, no stresses, no future. Just here, just now. Just you and me.”

You look at him doubtfully.

“Come on” Eddie winks at you and tugs at your hand again..

“W-what?” You stare at him confused. “Where are we going now?”

“Just trust me” he winks again, pulling on your hand again until he gets you to move with him.

He starts to walk quickly, pulling you along with him, heading in the direction of the lake. But before you know it he’s running, dragging you along with him. The two of you were suddenly racing towards the lake, sprinting at full speed. You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. You and Eddie running at full speed, hand in hand, in the middle of some field in the middle of the night.

You feel the night air whipping against your face, surging through your lungs, the air so cold it almost burned. All of it contrasting with the warmth of Eddie's hand in yours. The air fills with the sounds of the two of you giggling like giddy school children during recess. The only accompanying sound was the stomping of your feet as you continued to race into the night.

Eddie lets go of your hand just as you reach the edge of the lake, leaning over to rest his hands on his knees as he pants to catch his breath. You do the same, both of you still laughing even through your breathlessness. Eddie’s face is split with the biggest smile you think you’d ever seen as he looks back to you.

After a second, Eddie takes one long stride over to you and cups the back of your head with his hand. He’s then crashing his lips against your own. He kisses you breathlessly, messily, intensely. Your mind spins, both from the run and from the brisk air swirling around you. His hands wrapping around your body feel almost feverishly warm, and you keen into his touch. You can still feel the smile in his lips, his warm breathy laughter washing over your face even as he tries to keep kissing you.

When he pulls away he’s got that grin on his face again, but this time it’s laced with an edge of mischief.

“I have another idea on what might help with all those troubling thoughts running through your perfect little head,” he kisses your forehead quickly, "but you’ll have to trust me again, ‘kay?”

“Okay...?” You look at him quizzically.

“Okay” he nods, placing a kiss to the tip of your nose before letting you go and moving to take a few steps away from you

He then turns to face the lake, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck, as if he was preparing for some kind of physical altercation. You narrow your eyebrows at him, completely lost on whatever the hell he was getting up to.

Eddie takes a deep breath before he suddenly just screams into the dark of the night.

His voice bellows into the quiet of the night, echoing across the lake. His scream fades as he runs out of breath and soon the only noise is Eddie laughing like a child.

“Jesus, what the hell was that?” You balk at him.

He turns his head, that ridiculously big smile still adorning his ridiculously beautiful face.

“That was cathartic as fuck! That’s what that was” he laughs. “Come on, your turn.”

“Oh, n-no, no I don’t think so” you shake your head at him, hugging your arms around yourself.

Eddie just nods rhythmically at you as he walks back over to you, hugging you from behind and wrapping his entire body around you.

“Mhm yes I think so, come on” he kisses your cheek. “Just let it all out.”

"Don't worry, no one can hear us from here, I promise” he continues when you don’t respond for a second. "You’re all good, just let out all those worries and stresses, baby. Shout them into the night sky, let them be gone!”

He steps away from you again, giving you space. He opens his arms in a ‘go ahead’ gesture. You look at him, unsure, but he just smiles and nods encouragingly.

You take a deep breath, rolling your head to crack your neck; “fuck it” you exhale.

You give Eddie one final glance. His enthusiastic nodding gives you the final push of confidence you needed.

And so you scream.

You scream with everything you have. You let all your fears and worries be expelled from your mind, from your body, hurling them into the night with your voice. Your head starts to feel clearer, nothing mattering other than the cold night air and the burn in your chest.

Eddie was right, it was cathartic.

Eddie quickly joins in from behind you, screaming and whooping into the air. You both scream until your lungs just can’t take it anymore, until your body had no sounds left to give, save for your laughter.

“Yeah that’s it baby!!” Eddie whoops proudly, clapping like an idiot.

You squeal when he suddenly picks you up from behind, holding you against him and lifting your feet off the floor. He spins you about half a turn before the two of you fall into the soft grass together, both of you practically dying from giggles.

You’re both still laughing a minute later when you finally roll over to face him. You bury your head in his chest as you slowly start to calm down from the all the giggling, finally starting to catch your breath. Eddie still chuckles softly even as he brings his hand up to rub your back, holding you against his body. For a second you forgot you were the middle of a field; it was just as if he was holding you like usual when you were in bed together.

You place a soft kiss to his throat before you roll to lay just beside him, nuzzling into his side. You rest your head on his shoulder as his hand still runs up and down your side gently.

You look up at the glittery night sky, at the awe-inspiring beauty of the full moon. Everything you were stressing about seemed suddenly small and insignificant. How could anything possibly worry you when you had this perfect view and Eddie beside you?

You feel a tear prick your eye, but this time it’s of happiness. A tear of gratefulness for this idiot you called your boyfriend at your side. Your idiot who knew exactly how to cheer you up, even if his methods were somewhat ‘out there’. Eddie knew there was no point giving you some big speech about how everything was gonna be okay, to not stress about it, etc. He knew it would do you no good. Your brain would continue to linger on it regardless of what he said. No, Eddie knew that what you needed was distraction. And that’s exactly what he’d provided.

“Thank you for this” you mumble softly.

Eddie shakes his head and rubs your back a lil harder.

“Don’t even mention it sweetheart” he places a kiss to your forehead.

The future didn’t seem so daunting now. Didn’t seem so immediate. Because for now all you cared about was here and now.

All that existed was this infinite moment with Eddie.

Masterlist

A/N: tagging my darlings @siempre-bucky and @chaoticvigilantes bc I know they're in need of the Eddie comfort right now :’) this was 100% a self-indulgent comfort fic bc I am also stressing about my future and also I needed the comfort of Eddie still being alive lmao! I hope you guys liked this <3

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 13

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: sad. this chapter is sad. Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You were sitting at a stool in the compound’s kitchen when a familiar face walked in. Bucky had eventually explained to you that this was a sort of “headquarters” for the team. You felt a bit foolish having realized you never kept up much with these mighty heroes but you were eager to learn now. So far, you hadn’t encountered anyone you didn’t personally know on this famed team. Even now your eyes landed on the welcoming yet worried face of Steve.

“Morning,” you said, waving your fork before stabbing some of your scrambled eggs. Bucky had insisted on cooking for you despite your assurance you were fine but his cooking skills were....subpar. Still, nothing was inedible and you needed your strength back.

Steve reciprocated the greeting, saying your name with much excitement. “How are you feeling?” He added while making his way to the coffee pot. You chewed your eggs borderline viciously as you debated on an answer. 

“I’m okay.” You gave a shrug, staring down at your plate. Part of you wanted to let more out but you ignored it.

Steve came back around to the counter, standing on the other side across from you. He held his coffee cup firmly, nervously almost. You could feel him watching you. That excitement he had said your name with felt like it was evaporating from the room slowly.

“That’s… good,” Steve said. “If you need someone to talk to we have plenty of resources and - and I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You peaked a glance at him, confused. You placed your fork on the counter. “Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“I worry I led them right to you,” he explained, “like you two were separated for a reason.”

You frowned. You hadn’t thought about this - heck, you hadn’t thought about blaming anyone other than the disgusted men with such joyous evil looks in their eyes.

“Steve, I don’t think there was any way anyone could’ve prevented this.” You pushed your plate of food away. “They had their sights set. They had a plan, an optimism. It may have just been the soulmate experience in this case,” you sighed. Steve mumbled your name, shaking his head, but you continued, “And that’s fine. Love doesn’t come easy, right?”

“Being kidnapped is not part of being in love.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have an ex-assassin for a soulmate.”

Steve’s jaw went slack. You were staring him down now, practically begging him to say one more thing. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Steve finally settled on. Ever the cool, calm, and collected star-spangled man. “You will recover and it’ll never happen again, we can promise you that.” His voice was serious as if every word ended with a period. You felt tears starting to well in your eyes. You wanted to say something, maybe ask for a hug or just… you didn’t know what, so you just sat there, slumped in your chair like a defeated puppy.

“Everything okay here?” A sudden voice made you jump. You and Steve turned towards the kitchen doorway where Bucky was standing, arms crossed, worry etched all over his face. It seemed to become his permanent expression now. Even when it was just you two, he always appeared on edge.

You nodded, turning back to collect your plate and take it to the sink. “We were just chatting.” You didn’t see the look you just knew Steve and Bucky were sharing.

When you turned back around to face the pair, Bucky had crossed the room, almost close enough to now be hovering over you. You flinched when he went to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. You didn’t know why as you clearly didn’t think he was a threat but hadn’t you seen how threatening he could be? You lowered your head, fighting off the thoughts. He wasn’t like that to you and he had proven it time and time again. Why was it suddenly different?

Before either of the men could comment on your sudden hesitation, you said, “I’m going to go take a shower.” They just nodded, letting you exit.

***

When you got out of the shower and back into the room the team had lent you and Bucky for the time being, Bucky was waiting patiently on the bed. You lingered around the space, picking out some pajamas to wear, acting as normal as you could. You took in the space, still amazed by it. It was fairly large with top-notch amenities, including a luscious bed, spacious dresser, and television from technology you weren’t sure existed for the general public. It even had access to your own grand bathroom, saving you some war flashbacks of the communal restrooms at college. 

You dipped back into the bathroom and got changed. While your intimacy with Bucky hadn’t been on the shy side, you weren’t in that kind of mood right now. Rightfully so, you would say.

Emerging once more, you noticed Bucky had made a sort of resting area for you on the bed. Your side was surrounded by blankets upon blankets and soft pillows. He even had a movie queued up for you two to watch. He laid waiting, his eyes practically begging you to come to him. After giving your hair a final wring, you gave in and crawled into the soft bed, letting all of you just melt into it.

“How are y-,”

“Bucky,” you sighed, turning towards him. He was laying on his side, staring down at your curled-up form. “Please don’t ask how I am.”

He nodded. “I get it, doll. I’m just worried about you. You seemed alright yesterday but today…” Yeah. You’d taken a dive. Your whole mood had shifted. Heck, your views on the world had shifted. As dramatic as it seemed, you were having a hard time snapping back. You weren’t even gone for over two days and yet the smallest thing...

“I think it’s just all settling in,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe it was just shock yesterday or something but realizing what all happened… Gosh, this probably seems so foolish to you.”

Bucky began shaking his head profusely. As gently as he could, he took your hand in his. You welcomed the action as you shifted under the makeshift mountain of blankets. “Don’t do that, honey. Don’t try to dismiss it or think what you’re feeling is foolish. You went through something so terrifying. You’re allowed to react to it.” He took a deep breath. “When we talked yesterday, I think I thought maybe they hadn’t gotten to you. That nothing had happened that would leave you torn up but you saw… a lot.”

You knew he wasn’t talking about just being exposed to Hydra and their twisted selves. “I did,” you hesitantly agreed. “And I fear it’s going to take a lot to recover.” Your words felt like you were delivering punch after punch to Bucky but where were you going to get if you weren’t honest?

“Anything you need, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his thumb drawing soft patterns on the back of your hand, sending shivers through you. “I’ll do anything to make it better.”

You nodded, averting your gaze to where your hands were connected. Your hand was so tense but you hadn’t even realized you were squeezing his. You relaxed it slightly and Bucky’s motions stopped.

“Bucky,” you mumbled, “can I ask you something?”

He hummed in response.

“What do I offer you?”

You could feel Bucky’s eyes staring you down. No doubt a concerned frown was playing on his lips. “What are you getting at here, honey?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “When I was… you know… the - the older man said that he didn’t understand why we would be paired together. They were determined to figure out what I offer you. What makes me so special.” A beat. “I really don’t know the answer.”

Bucky sighed, shaking his head. You glanced up at him again, his eyes now holding a different kind of anger. You felt bad for doubting yourself but the insecurity from the words of some random guy settled into your brain. 

After a thoughtful moment, Bucky spoke, “I don’t think you’ll ever fully understand what you give, not just to me, honey, but the world. You’re so fearless. You’re incredibly understanding. Not to mention how compassionate and bright you are…” His voice cracked slightly, breaking your heart a little. “You force me to remember that I’m not alone and I don’t have to be. And I just really hope I do the same for you.”

You could feel your own tears forming as you shifted just a bit closer to your soulmate. You weren’t quite touching but you could still feel his presence. It was as comfortable as you could get right now and Bucky seemed to respect that. 

“I hope I’ll be okay,” you confessed. “Eventually.” 

It quite amazed you how fast stuff could change within yourself. You woke up from being rescued with the more extravagant hopes and overwhelming relief of just making it out alive. But then you remembered the price of you making it out alive. What you had to witness to get there. And then the thoughts of actually being back in that position rushed over you. Needless to say, it was weird. Simply weird. Unlike anything you had encountered before. 

Bucky soon nodded, encouragingly. You hated putting anything else on him but he had become part of the memories now. It was one thing to see him in dreams and another to watch it just feet away from you. 

With a choking sob, he said, “Me too, doll.”

[sfb123]

The Final Goodbye - Chapter 3

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Description: In a slight canon divergence from book 2, Riley reaches her breaking point with the engagement tour and decides to restart her life when the court gets to NYC. Can the rest of the group clear her name, and convince her to come back before it’s too late?

Catch Up Here

Rating: PG (I think there are a few swear words in there, very angsty, but otherwise pretty mild)

Word Count: 1,240

A/N: Again, I’m so grateful to all of you for reading this little series I threw together out of nowhere. After this, we’ve got one chapter left. I teased a side one shot of Liam confronting Madeleine, and that’s coming, I promise. I’m hoping to release it this week. Huge thank you to my fandom soulmate @jessiembruno for always taking the time to help me work through this stuff. You are a godsend, and I am forever grateful. 

Tags: Listed below. If you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

“Are you sure you don’t want to come and just hang out? I hate leaving you alone like this.”

“Daniel, I love you. Thank you. But I’m good. I’ve been around people for months, I just need to be alone and get my head right.” She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. “Besides, the way I bailed on that place with literally zero notice, I’m surprised my face isn’t up on the door with one of those Ghostbusters logo thingies through it.”

Daniel and Riley said their goodbyes. Once he turned the corner and was out of sight, Riley closed and locked the door and made herself comfortable on the couch. She spent the afternoon watching talk shows, and all of those small claims court shows that she had missed so much while she was away. Her problems didn’t seem quite so bad when she watched a woman be told all 7 men she brought with her that day were ‘not the father’.

When the buzzer rang, Riley didn’t think twice and instantly let them in, assuming it was the food she had been waiting for. She got to the door just as the visitor began knocking. Riley’s eyes widened as they met Bertrand’s. Of all of the people she expected to come looking for her, he was definitely at the bottom of the list. “Bertrand… What are you? How did you?” 

“Lady Riley, I believe I deserve a bit more credit. You are the one who ran away to your last known address. Even Maxwell would have been able to figure that out.”

Still flustered, Riley stepped aside and signaled for Bertrand to enter. “You can just call me Riley. I’m done with court, I’m not a lady anymore.” She sat on the couch, and Bertrand sat next to her. “Why did you come here, Bertrand?”

He ignored her question, he found it absurd that she felt the need to ask why he was there. It wasn’t as if he were just in the neighborhood and decided to drop in. “What do you mean you are done with court? We still have a few days left on the tour and then when we get back…”

“Bertrand, you’re a smart man. How are you not getting this? I’m out, I’m done. I never belonged there, and I never will.” Riley took a couple of deep breaths to try to quell her emotions before continuing. “We’re never going to find Tariq, and I can’t just go back to a country where I’m constantly being looked down on, just so I can watch the man I love marry another woman.” She looked down at her hands, which she was wringing in her lap.

“Riley, we found him,” Riley froze, her eyes locked on Bertrand. “Maxwell, Drake, and Hana are in California right now to get him, and have him make a statement. This will likely all be over by the end of the day.”

For a brief moment, Riley got her hopes up, perhaps it wasn’t over. She and Liam could have a real chance at happiness. She shook off the optimism, and quickly jumped back into reality. “That’s great, I really appreciate that they would go through all of that trouble for me, but how do we know they can convince him to speak out? He ran away after everything happened, he was obviously trying to get away from this.” She got up and began pacing the room. “And even if he does make a statement, that’s it? The whole country will just say ‘oh hey, our bad, you aren’t a slut who two-timed our king, all is forgiven’?”

Bertrand approached Riley, placing his hands on her shoulders to keep her still. “He will give a statement. Those three are nothing if not persuasive. And once that happens, Liam will make his own statement to the people. They will see how happy he is to clear the name of the woman he loves. Everyone sees his face when he talks about you, Riley. The love, the adoration. The people will see that too, and that will matter to them.”

Tears started to pool in Riley’s eyes at the mention of Liam’s name. “Even if that happens, there will always be people that define me by my scandal. I can’t let Liam take that heat, he won’t be known for the amazing things he will do as king, he will be known for his infamous queen.” 

“Riley…” Bertrand’s expression softened, he motioned for her to sit back down on the couch where he joined her. “As you are aware, Savannah was recently located, with...my son.” His voice cracked slightly, Riley noticed. “I have missed out on so much of his life, on all of this time that I could have been happy. If she had just told me what she was feeling, if she had voiced her concerns, things would have been different. We would have been a family.” He placed his hand over Riley’s before continuing. “You and Liam love each other deeply. That is clear to anyone who spends any amount of time with the two of you. Don’t lose that love because you are afraid to speak your mind. Savannah thought she knew what was best for me, and it has made both of us miserable. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, and I certainly wouldn’t wish it on my sister.”

Riley let out a small sob as Bertrand finished. He had always been so formal with her. Hearing him call her his sister, on top of all of all of the other emotions coursing through her caused the dam to burst. She covered her face with her hands, and Bertrand wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. 

The silence in the room was broken by a ping on Bertrand’s phone. Riley pulled back to allow him to remove it from his jacket pocket. He looked at the screen, and a smirk formed on his face before he turned back to Riley. “They have him, they are all on the jet on their way back to New York. Once they arrive, he will be going right to the soundstage to make his statement. It should be released in time for the evening news.” Bertrand stood, placing his phone back in his pocket. “Riley, I know I have been putting a heavy weight on your shoulders since the day you arrived in Cordonia, but you have handled it all with a level of grace and composure that I never would have expected from someone with your background. You have not been the woman I expected when Maxwell told me he brought home a waitress to represent our house in the social season, but if you give up now, you will have done all of that work for nothing and proven my initial suspicions of you correct. You are better than that Riley, I know that now.” He walked to the door, turning back to her as his hand reached for the doorknob, “Take some time to think about things, the court will be in New York for a few more days. I hope to see you back with us when we make our return to Cordonia, but it is a decision only you can make.” With that, he walked out the door, leaving Riley alone with her thoughts. 

Permatag:

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The Final Goodbye:

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Liam x Riley:

@jared2612​

@choicesficwriterscreations

[ash-writies]

Nothing But Tongues and Teeth

A/n: This took a lot longer to write than I thought, about 2k words of angst, I hate writing serious moments but here I am :/ also happy father's day

Bolin X GN!Reader

There you were, seated across the table from a man whose name you didn’t even know. Your parents sat beside you and talked with him. Their words didn’t form into sentences as they hit your ears. Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder.

“Have fun you two,” your mother called, her voice as sweet as honey to the untrained ear. Although you heard her truly, her venomous voice chiming like bells. What she meant was, “don’t mess this up.”

“So, y/n-” the man started. Before he could even finish his thought he caught your glare.

“There is nothing you can give me,” you began, keeping a porcelain smile on your face, “I’ve grown a mouth so sharp and cruel it’s all that I can give to you, my dear~” Venom hung in those last two words. He froze like a man caught in the path of a cobra, the snake ready to strike at any minute. You knew the severity of your words, if he left and never saw you again your parents would be unhappy. Anything was better than this though. Better than wasting your life serving a man who’d never truly care about you

“Excuse me?” the nameless man asked, mostly in confusion. His green eyes were fixed on your face, looking for something.

“I didn’t stutter,” you said, sipping from the drink placed in front of you. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips for a moment.

“I’m Bolin,” he introduced himself, “I reckon you didn’t know that before?” An amused smile spread across his face. His smile was way different from the other smiles you saw. His smile stretched across his lips and infected his cheeks, it caused the lights in his eyes to dance, it even introduced its happiness to his eyebrows.

“Whatever,” you began, “I’m not marrying you and that’s it!” Your voice was stern and true. You caught a flicker of doubt taint his face, and for a moment you felt bad. Then the moment was gone.

“I don’t think that’s up to you,” he said coolly and leaned back in his chair.

“I’m not going to be the perfect housewife that you want,” you tried to counter, “and when you come in quick to steal a kiss my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear~” You leaned in after those words left your mouth.

He frowned, “I don’t need a housewife first of all. Secondly, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” You paused and took in what he said. If he didn’t want to control you then what was the point of this? Was this just some manipulation thing?

“I know that you mean so well, but I am not a vessel for your ‘good intents’”

“You’re right, but I still want to marry you,” He said, smiling at you. Everything was a blur after that. As soon as he finished his sentence, your parents returned to you both. They heard his last sentence and were more than happy to start discussing wedding plans.

As your wedding day came closer and closer, it felt that more and more was out of your hands. Most of your belongings were taken and packed up so it would be easy to move them right after your wedding. Your mother was quite the control freak throughout the whole process. Not that you cared, you didn’t want anything to do with this whole wedding ordeal anyway.

Finally the day of the wedding came, you looked stunning, and if this Bolin fella was there you bet he’d tell you.

“You look amazing,” a voice that sounded like his rang through the air. You sighed, thinking that it was bad luck to see your fiancé before the wedding or something.

“It’s not too late to call off the wedding you know, you said standing up. Time was dragging by at such a slow pace before he spoke,

“I don’t know why I would do such a thing.” He laughed, crossing his arms.

“You don’t know much about me, I will only break your pretty things, and I will only wring you dry of everything.” You walked towards him until your faces were only inches apart.

“But if you’re fine with that, you can be mine like that,” you looked at his lips and back at his eyes. There was something off in his eyes, you didn’t know if it was a good thing but that didn’t matter. You walked past him and continued down the hall to where your mother was waiting.

“Honey, let me fix your hair,” She sang, rushing to you. You sighed and let her pull the strand away from your face. “ I can’t believe my baby’s getting married!”

“You were the one who set this whole thing up,” you muttered, hoping she didn’t hear you.

“Good thing too!” she cheered, “if you’d have done this it would’ve definitely been a disaster. You sigh, not even bothering with a response.

The wedding goes on with blurs of tears and hollers. Colors void of saturation, voices void of emotions, and embraces void of warmth were all that flooded your memory of that joyous day. After that, days of moving your stuff to his place, days of your childhood being up-rooted and discarded, days of memories saying goodbye and being laid to rest. Once the movers left you and Bolin sat on the couch, you were a noticeable distance away from him.

He was the first to speak, “what do you want to eat y/n?” His voice was small and fragile.

“Anything really,” you shrugged, you didn’t do most of the moving so it didn’t really matter.

“How about some pizza then?” He exclaimed, jumping up and grabbed his phone and ordered some. You both ate in awkward silence.

“Let's unpack together,” he said once you were both done eating, trying to lift the mood.

“Sure,” you muttered. You both started on the living room which, for now, only consisted of a couch and a tv that sat on the floor. The first thing you both agreed on doing was building the ikea furniture. Whenever he saw you were getting frustrated he’d add in a joke or do something silly. At first you didn’t notice but after you’d accidentally skipped a step and he said, “this screw stupid won’t in go” that gave away his whole plan. The attempts after that were still kinda funny though.

Before bed he made moves trying to get closer to you. Moves that you tried to ignore at first but you couldn’t stop your outburst, “Abandon all your stupid dreams about the person I could’ve been,” you hesitated before adding in, “my dear~” in the same cynical voice you always say it in. The only good thing that came out of that was that he left you alone for the night.

For a while after that you tried your best to avoid him even though he kept trying to get to know you.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” he whine-asked.

“Because in the night I know you burn with feelings I cannot return,” you answered, momentarily forgetting you were supposed to be ignoring him.

“Why can’t you return them?” he asked normally this time.

You pressed your lips together, “my parents had an arranged marriage and never fell in love, why should I have to?” he shrugged with a dumbfounded look on his face and you left before he could say something that’d make you want to completely confide in him. You ignored him and the way your face heated up for a bit longer. A month has passed since the wedding, and Bolin was desperate to get to know you, bothering you every hour of the day.

“What did you do today?” He asked

“Nothing really,” you lied, your daily life was rather eventful to make sure you never spent a moment resting unless it was planned.

“We should spend some time together sometime,” he suggested.

“You gotta know that this won’t last! Desperation will erase the fact: I’m keeping all of the answers in my cigarette box!” you said, for some reason. You didn’t even know why and you wanted to take it back as soon as you said it. Especially because of the look on his face. Which looked like a kicked puppy.

“If you need space I’ll give you some,” he started standing up, “but I won’t let you speak to me like that.” He was upset, rightfully. He went to your shared room and shut the door. You sat there for a minute. You put your head in your hands for a minute and thought about what you said. You didn’t want to take it back because then he’d want to stay with you. But would it really be bad to have him by your side? Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more conflicted he stepped out of the room with his duffel bag for gym full. Your heart sank but somehow you were comforted with the thought that you knew this was going to happen.

“I’m not leaving forever,” he said, reading your face, “just for a while so you can sort yourself out.

You rolled your eyes, “ You might as well never come back.”

“Why do you feel that way?” he stepped towards you.

“Why do you feel so entitled to me?”

He paused, The answer’s in the second before the other shoe drops,” y/n, I’m not- this was never about that- remember how you said, ‘if you’re blind to that’ well, I’m fine with that,”

You were so torn you were crying, “I will ruin you! I will poison all your happy thoughts, I will love you like the ashes in her cigarette box!” While tears streamed down your cheeks he just looked at you.

“‘Her’?” he asked. You felt your face heat up as he kept walking towards you. Once he reached you he dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around you. “What is going through your head?” he asked.

You let out a choked sob, “why did you marry me?”

“Mostly for the money, but because I thought you’d be a fun person”

You chuckled, “the money?”

“Me and my brother weren’t well off,” he started, “I just wanted to make it so I could support him. Though it’s awful to use someone-”

You cut him off, “here I was thinking you had bad intentions,”

“You never answered my questions,” he swiftly changed the subject and your smile faded.

“I had a really nice dad who loved my mother,” you began, “she loved him too. One day he left, died, all without word or warning. Then my grandparents set my mother up and the next time we weren’t so lucky. There, that was the first question. My mother was distant after her first husband’s death. So yeah”

You really wanted it to end there and Bolin must’ve caught on somehow because he changed the topic again. “So since I’m fine with your many flaws, we can be together?” he said, your head still pressed against his chest.

You laughed, “yeah,”

Fin

[nyotamalfoy]

"Unexpected." - Part 2 Cillian Murphy x fem!Reader

Requested by the wonderful @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby 💖

Part 1 can be found here

“Hey, Neil! Is that her? Is that (Y/N)?” Helen slaps Neil’s arm and points out the window as they drive around the city, still looking for (Y/N).   

“Where?” Sophie calls out from the back as Neil snaps his head around to where Helen was pointing.   

“Oh my god,” Neil mutters in worry as he makes out the outline of his niece lying on a bench.   

They all run out as soon as he parks the car and gasp as they reach her side. Her foot was bloody, mostly dried blood, and her face was covered in dried tear tracks. 

“This is all my fault, I shouldn’t have left her alone,” Neil says as he kneels down and tucks a piece of hair behind (Y/N)’s ears. He looks like he is about to break down when Helen puts a hand on his shoulders and tries to comfort him.   

“It’s not your fault, Neil. Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Helen says, rubbing his back.  

“Yes, we’ve found her…near the beach side café…yes that’s the one…here, take a right, I can see you,” Sophie talks into her phone as she waves her hand over her head trying to catch the attention of the newly arrived car consisting of the rest of the search party, Paul, Finn, Joe and Tom.  

“Is she okay?” Tom called out as they all got out of Paul’s car.   

Neil tries to wake her up, shaking her shoulders, but she doesn’t budge. He asks if anyone has water and waits as Finn rushes to Paul’s car to get a bottle. He splashes a few drops on (Y/N)’s face and almost cries in relief as her eyes flutter open.   

“What happened?” (Y/N) asks in a groggy voice as she sits upright and holds a hand to her forehead. She looks positively exhausted and cold, very cold. She rubs her arms for warmth as she looks around her in surprise at the small crowd of very famous people asking if she was alright before she remembers what happened that morning.   

Neil immediately hugs her and whispers repeatedly in her ears how he is glad that she’s okay and he keeps saying sorry, much to (Y/N)’s confusion.    

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“Are you sure you’re okay?” Neil asks (Y/N) for the hundredth time as he tucks her in for bed.   

“I’m fine, Neil,” (Y/N) smiles and replies while feeling a little embarrassed at her outburst a few hours ago.   

“Okay, sleep well, kid.” Neil kisses her forehead before turning off the light and closing her door.   

As he was changing into his t-shirt to sleep, his phone rang from the beside his bed. The screen reading Cillian.   

‘Why is he calling at this time?’ Neil thought to himself, answering it anyway.  

“Hello?”   

“Hey, Neil, uh- I wanted to- uh-…is (Y/N) there?” Cillian stutters as Neil becomes a bit suspicious.  

“She’s asleep, why?”   

“Uh- It’s just that, um…oh, stuff it. I wanted to apologize to her for being a jerk and ruining her day. She didn’t deserve this and I know its my fault. I just want her to know that she wasn’t the problem there and I had a bad day and I took it out on her which I shouldn’t have-”   

“Okay! Cillian, calm down, I’ll ask her to call you tomorrow morning, alright?” Neil cut off Cillian’s rambling and knew at that moment that he did really feel bad for saying all those things.   

“Yeah, okay, thanks, Neil.” Cillian says, as if still in a daze, and hangs up.   

Neil puts down his phone and smiles in amazement. Cillian was such a put-together person; he never stuttered or rambled. Something really had Cillian on edge, and it wasn’t hard to notice that the something was probably his guilt for being rude to someone, him being the soft baby that he is.  

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

“Good morning, (Y/N),” Neil greets her from the dining table, coffee mug and mobile phone in hand.   

“Morning,” (Y/N) mutters as she drags her feet to the fridge to get cereal, careful not to put too much pressure on the injured leg.  

“Cillian called last night,” Neil starts, still looking at his phone, reading something and sipping his coffee. “He says he’s really sorry about yesterday. He went on and on about how rude he was, and I told him that you’ll call him in the morning. Which is about now.” He checks the time and turns to her.  

“Wait, Cillian, as in Cillian Murphy?” (Y/N) asked, her eyes wide.   

“How many Cillians do you know (Y/N)?”  

“So, the Cillian Murphy, called you, to apologise to me?”   

“Yes, so are you going to call him or not?”  

“Should I? I mean, he was pretty rude to me yesterday.” (Y/N) hugged her arms around herself and looked down.   

“He isn’t like that normally, (Y/N). He is literally the nicest person you’ll ever meet but he just had a really bad morning yesterday and he took it out on the first person he saw.” Neil puts his finger up as (Y/N) opens her mouth to speak. “I know it doesn’t justify his words, but he really did sound guilty and sincere when he called last night.”  

(Y/N) contemplated the idea for some time before finally agreeing to talk to Cillian. She took his number from Neil and called from her phone. She waited with bated breath and tried to calm her nerves considering that she was calling the person who she’d had a crush on for years. Even though, he had been a bit rude to her, she was willing to give him a second chance knowing that yesterday might’ve just been a bad day. Something that she could relate to very well.  

“Hello, who’s this?” Cillian’s voice floated through her phone once he picked up after 3 or 4 rings.  

“Um, it’s (Y/N). You wanted to talk to me?” (Y/N) asked once the initial shock had worn off.  

“Yes! (Y/N), first of all, I’m glad you called me back because to be honest, I thought you’d hate me after yesterday. Secondly, I am honestly, truly, genuinely sorry for how I behaved with you. I was a total jerk and didn’t think before I said whatever I said. I just- (Y/N)? Are you there?”   

“I’m here,” (Y/N) said, mildly surprised, with her eyebrows raised and her mouth slightly parted.   

“Good, so my point was, can I make it up to you? I just feel so terrible knowing I ruined your special day.”   

“I- uhm, sure.”   

“So, can we meet somewhere today?” Cillian asks, sounding hopeful.   

“Yeah, I guess.” (Y/N) nods her head, even though he can’t see it.  

“I’ll text you the details soon, alright? I’m sorry again, (Y/N). I’ll see you later, then?”   

“Yeah, see ya.” (Y/N) hangs up the phone, still in a trance, and walks downstairs.   

“Neil, you’ll never guess what just happened,” (Y/N) calls out as she goes into the kitchen, expecting to see Neil sitting there, but finds it empty.   

She walks to the counter where she spots a post-it note with a Neil’s familiar scrawl on it.   

Sorry, kid. Had to leave for work. See you in the afternoon. <3    

She smiled and shook her head before going to get ready for the day.   

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“Hi, ma’am, do you have a reservation?” The waiter asked as he saw (Y/N) come in.   

“Uh- I’m supposed to meet someone here?” (Y/N) tells the waiter, nervously wringing her hands together.   

“Their name?” The waiter pulls out a tablet ready to type in the name.   

“Cillian Murphy?” She watches as the waiter looks up at her with recognition on his face and immediately puts down the tablet. 

“Of course, Miss (Y/N), follow me please.” The waiter guides a dumbstruck (Y/N) through the royal and very expensive looking furniture of the restaurant.   

“Here you are, enjoy your night,” The waiter says before leaving (Y/N) in front of a door leading to a private booth.   

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“Hey! Cillian, are you coming to the bar?” Paul asks Cillian as they wrap up the set for the day.  

“Not today, Paul. I have to go somewhere.” Cillian smiles and leaves before anyone else could ask any more questions.   

He was beyond relieved when (Y/N) agreed to talk to him because he was about 100% certain that she hated him. He wanted to show her that she was appreciated and that he cared. So, he decided to take her to his favourite restaurant.   

As he sat in the booth he booked, waiting for (Y/N), he was getting more and more nervous. He didn’t know if it was because of his fear of rejection or if he liked her. Probably the former, right? I mean, I don’t even know her. He thought to himself.   

Cillian looked at his watch at the same moment the door handle turned making him snap his head towards it. He felt as if his brain wasn’t working in that moment as he saw (Y/N) peeking her head in and then walk forwards. She looked beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.   

“Um, hey.” (Y/N) sat in the chair opposite him and gave him a small smile.   

“What?” Cillian asked, broken out of his reverie by her sweet voice.  

“I said, hey.” She giggled and shook her head.  

“Oh yeah, hi.” The sight of her laughing brought a smile to his face.   

“So, this place is really nice.” (Y/N) gestured around to the restaurant.   

“Yeah, one of my favourites,” Cillian said, unable to take his eyes off her.   

As the night went on, Cillian and (Y/N) talked about anything and everything, getting to know each other better. One thing they both realised very early on in the conversation, was that they were both falling for each other.   

Falling very hard, indeed.

A/N: Should I make a part 3?

[murdereraisuha]

Classpecting TWST: Octavinelle

Time to assign Homestuck classpects to the fish mafia!

Spoilers for chapter 3 and some of the trio’s personal stories. No knowledge of Homestuck required to read.

[Image description: A banner containing a picture of Azul, the symbol for the space aspect, and the words “Azul Ashengrotto: Thief of Space”]

For Azul, I think it’s easier to narrow down what his class is first.

To get back at his childhood bullies, Azul developed his unique magic “It’s a Deal,” which lets him make contracts with others. 

He uses clever loopholes and tricks to shift his contracts in his favor, letting him reap the magic and abilities of his victims. 

However, despite his power and skills, he still has self-image issues. 

In chapter 3, he overblots during a desperate magic stealing spree to make a more perfect him who isn’t a “stupid, clumsy octopus who can’t do anything by himself.”

What I get from this is that he steals from others, he worked hard to shape himself into a successful person, and he perceives fault in himself. Based on this, I think his class is either thief, the active theft class, or knight, the active exploitation class.

With that in mind, what exactly does he steal/exploit, and what do his insecurities relate to? Rather than concepts like luck, freedom, or the soul, Azul seems centered on concrete objects. In his childhood, he was tormented due to his physical appearance. In the present, he carefully controls his diet to maintain a slender physique. He also hoards things like coins and his contracts. 

Based on these things as well as the creativity he exhibits in his elaborate schemes (exam notes, beans day, investigating Scarabia, etc.), I think that Azul’s aspect is space, the aspect of physical attributes, creation, and patience.

So, thief of space or knight of space? After research into both, I think that thief fits the best. First of all, though Azul has amazing abilities on his own, he relies a lot on maintaining a hoard of contracts. Rather than working with what he has, he constantly seeks out more: more power, more profits, more restaurant locations. Similarly to how Azul’s downfall in chapter 3 stemmed from trying to steal too much (Yuu’s house & the photo), the 2 thieves in Homestuck also get into trouble for being too overconfident. Finally, while a knight generally protects and shelters those around them, Azul isn’t afraid to do stuff such as wring Floyd out like a towel to use his eel slime for developing a beauty product. Therefore, Azul is most likely a thief of space.

[Image description: A banner containing a picture of Jade Leech, the symbol for the light aspect, and the words “Jade Leech: Rogue of Light”] 

To figure out Jade’s aspect, let’s consider some facts about him. 

His unique magic, “Shock the Heart,” forces a person who looks him in the eye to truthfully answer a question he asks them. 

He dislikes predictable things, which is a reason why he loves his chaotic brother and enjoys growing unknown plants. 

He prefers to stay in the shadows while Azul/Floyd takes the spotlight.

Based on these factors, Jade seems well suited to either the void aspect, the aspect of secrets, confusion, and irrelevance, or its opposite the light aspect, the aspect of truth, awareness, and importance. Now, how does he interact with his aspect?

Though Jade, Azul, and Floyd are equals, Jade still usually acts in a supportive role to them. For example, in his ceremony robes story, Jade gives the list of the new students’ private Magicam accounts to Azul for him to use instead of using the list himself. Therefore, I think that Jade probably has a passive class.

Jade does not have a deficit of light/void and he does not have a destructive relationship with light/void, ruling out page and bard. He doesn’t truly embody either aspect, ruling out heir, and he doesn’t seem to do much creating/healing of light/void, ruling out sylph. That narrows it down to seer of light, seer of void, rogue of void, and rogue of light. 

Though I originally thought he was probably void and just kept the light option open just in case, Jade might actually be a rogue of light. A rogue, the passive theft class, invites theft of their aspect and through their aspect. Jade reveals knowledge (ex. contract violations & the Magicam accounts) and then leaves Azul and Floyd to do with it as they please. Also, Shock the Heart is activated using his eyes, and eyes are a symbol of the light aspect in Homestuck. 

Furthermore, the rogues of Homestuck often have trouble coping with having their aspect, correlating with Jade being uncomfortable with having people’s attention on him. He also has problems with giving information/the truth about himself. For example, his exaggerated fake tears after Idia doubts his wish during the Wish Upon a Star event strengthens Idia’s belief that Jade's wish is insincere, even though Jade might have really wanted to use his wish for Azul and Floyd’s benefit. Though Jade is pretty different from the typical descriptions of rogues of light I have read, I think he probably is a rogue of light.

[Image description: A banner containing a picture of Floyd, the symbol for the blood aspect, and the words “Floyd Leech: Bard of Blood”]

For Floyd, I have an aspect already in mind.

Breath represents freedom and flexibility. From his general refusal to wear his uniform properly or take on responsibilities to specific events like trying to play dodgeball during basketball club, Floyd certainly exhibits freedom. His unique magic, “Bind the Heart,” references the concept of freedom/captivity in its name. By deflecting any magic aimed at him, it basically ensures his freedom from injury and other harmful effects like Riddle’s” Off with Your Head!”

Just so we’re not narrowing our focus too much though, I’d like to point out that the rage aspect is also a possibility. Rage represents negative emotions, defiance, and persistence. For Floyd, he rebels against conformity and also exhibits some stubbornness in his teasing of Riddle. Floyd’s aspect might also be the opposite of breath or rage, blood or hope, since each aspect and its opposite are just 2 sides of the same coin as we saw with Floyd’s brother.

Anyway, on to class. First off, thief and rogue are out since he doesn’t do much theft. He doesn’t hide behind any masks or act very pessimistic, so knight, page, and prince are out, and he doesn’t seem to struggle with knowledge of things, so mage and seer are out. Of the remaining classpect combos, I was thinking witch of rage, bard of rage, heir of breath, or maid of breath. However, as I just said, the aspects blood or hope might also apply. After looking into god tiers of those aspects, one stuck out at me: bard of blood.

Bard is the passive destruction class, which invites destruction of their aspect or through their aspect. Bards and princes, the active destruction class, are notable in how they exhibit traits of the opposite aspect since they destroy their own aspect in themselves. In Floyd’s case, his abundance of freedom & spontaneousness can also be seen as an absence of commitments & responsibilities.

However, a bard doesn’t destroy all traces of their aspect, which is how I can find evidence that Floyd’s aspect is actually blood rather than breath. In Homestuck, those of the breath aspect tend to be rather emotionally detached or passive. For example, John handles shocking revelations with ease and Tavros uses sleep to escape sadness. On the other hand, blood players tend to be emotionally explosive and assertive. Karkat and Kankri are well known for being rather... cranky. Now, for Floyd,

I don’t think an emotionally passive person would have a murder mode face like this. There’s also the fact that Floyd specifically hates shackles, while a breath player would probably take their freedom more for granted. Anyway, going to how being a bard would interact with Floyd’s aspect, as a bard his actions lead to destruction of bonds/responsibilities. However, a bard’s aspect is still a part of them/an inevitability even if they try to act like it isn’t.

Let’s take the one big example of anguish within Floyd that we have: his school uniform story. While Floyd is having a blast riling Riddle up and trying to bait him into a game of tag, Riddle remarks that Jade doesn’t bother with this sort of mischief and he’s completely different from Floyd even though they’re twins. This causes Floyd’s mood to take a 180 and he abruptly leaves. Even though Floyd does stuff like steal Jade’s clothes or shove work on him—things that might suggest Floyd doesn’t care about Jade—Floyd actually doesn’t want their bond with each other to break. This also holds true for Azul: though Floyd explicitly says in chapter 4 that he and Jade will leave Azul if he becomes boring, that seems like a half-truth: with Azul being the person he is, how likely is it that he would ever become boring?

Floyd is a genius, talented in everything from academic subjects to music to sports. However, as noted by some other characters, his mood swings and flippantness prevent him from being the even more terrifyingly powerful person he could become. His personal challenge may very well be to find a middle ground between running from and depending on his bonds/responsibilities. Therefore, based on Floyd’s values, attitude, and faults, I can say that he is very likely a bard of blood.

-- Final notes --

Firstly, If you actually read through all this and enjoyed it, I recommend checking out mia-pon289’s Octavinelle theories and Dahniwitchoflight’s classpect stuff since this post drew a lot of inspiration from those. 

Secondly, I am going to flip my shit if Ace’s aspect turns out to be blood too once I get to analyzing Heartslabyul. Is basketball club just gonna become blood club?

Thirdly,

[Image description: A venn diagram with 2 circles. One circle is labeled “Animal with 8 legs” and contains “Vriska” in it. The other circle is labeled “Aquatic” and contains “Meenah”. The intersection between the circles contains “Azul”. The whole diagram is inside of a rectangle labeled “Thief”]

[horrorboydyke]

Do you think you can write something about jealous!KieuMy? Also do you know of other authors here who write about kieutou?

Hi anon!! i hope you enjoy this fic! I’ve linked some amazing Kieutou writers underneath my fic! (read on ao3)

It was new, it was all so new and it made Kieu My nervous, so very nervous. Rationally she knew that Fatou really liked her but in some twisted part of Kieu My’s brain she obsessively thought about Fatou leaving her for someone better, someone who knew how to be with women, someone who knew what they were doing but it’s a thought that seems to diminish whenever Fatou even smiled at her.

It didn’t help to see how close Fatou was with her friends, how tight she would hug them or thread their fingers together for comfort and this delusional jealousy would make Kieu My roll her eyes at herself. She understands it comes from not having many close female friendships and how she is being quite hypocritical because if anyone who didn’t know them looked at her and Zoe’s friendship Kieu My was sure they’d assume they were girlfriends.

But no matter how hard Kieu My tried those ugly thoughts would swirl in her head like a whirlpool and if Kieu My focused on those thoughts for too long they’ll sweep her in and toss her around, leaving her battered with a bruised ego and incredibly insecure. It would be at this point that she’d ignore Fatou, her texts and her attempts to communicate because this isn’t how Kieu My wants Fatou to see her, upset and weak.

“You know that you can talk to me about anything right? Like absolutely anything” Fatou had said one day while the two lay on Kieu My’s bed wrapped in a big blanket and curled in each other’s arms. Kieu My’s fingers still from rubbing circles into her girlfriend’s shoulder, she had hummed and nods her head after a moment of stillness, the thoughts she wanted to share on the tip of her tongue but she swallowed them back down and not daring to speak instead kisses the top of her girlfriends head and curls into her.

---

“I fucking hate this,” Kieu My had groaned one day after watching Fatou pull Nora into her lap at school, her jealousy peaking despite the fact Fatou had caught her eye from across the courtyard and blew her a kiss which left Kieu My all bubbly and giggling like a fangirl who just got winked at by her idol.

“Maybe you should just talk to her about it? That's what I would do anyway,” Zoe says absentmindedly, distracted by her phone.

“No, I can’t,” Kieu My says matter-of-factly shaking her head and turning her back to her girlfriends and looking at Zoe opposite her and raising her eyebrows when Zoe looks up from her phone to look at her and gives her an incredulous look.

“And why is that?”

“Because I don’t want to be that girlfriend?” Kieu My answers quietly and rolls her eyes when Zoe furrows her eyebrows and nods her head for Kieu My to elaborate.

“Ya know, the crazy girlfriend who is uber controlling and whose jealousy gets in the way of everything and makes her so insecure that she pushes her girlfriend away and just is the reason the relationship fails. I don’t want to be that person and I don’t want Fatou to think I don’t trust her because I do, I do,” Kieu My rants and when she finally stops she takes a deep breath in and looks at Zoe pointedly.

“You sure got a lot of fucked up thoughts in there don’t you?” Zoe asks sarcastically and gently taps a finger to the middle of Kieu My’s forehead who scrunches up her nose.

“You have no idea,” she sighs and groans as she puts her head in her hands.

“I think it’s perfectly normal to be jealous but I think it becomes problematic when its the only emotional that consumes you but you’re not being controlling, Nora is currently cuddling up to your girlfriend and it’s not like you’re going up to them and forcing Fatou away from her friends because it makes you angry right? How does your jealousy make you feel?” Zoe asks and Kieu My thinks for a moment and lifts her head to look at Zoe.

“Insecure mostly, it doesn’t make me angry at her, it makes me angry at me because how could I feel this way about her? Because I trust her so much but feeling this jealousy makes me feel like a hypocrite and like subconsciously maybe I don’t trust her as much as I promised her,” Kieu My says, her eyes watering and feeling how much admitting all this hurts.

“Babe?” Fatou questions from behind from her and both Kieu My and Zoe jump not had heard her approach. Kieu My blinks her eyes and wills the tears to disappear in the 5 seconds it takes her to turn around and look at her girlfriend.

Kieu My smiles at Fatou as she turns around and makes a mental note to let Fatou know how cute she looks today in her braids.

“Can we talk?” Fatou asks and Kieu My instantly picks up how nervous Fatou seems, wringing her hands and shifting her eyes between Kieu My who is now packing up her stuff into her bag and Zoe who is smiling at her.

Kieu My finished putting her stuff into her bag and stands, holding out her hand for Fatou to take but drops it back by her side when Fatou shakes her head and tucks her hand into her pocket. They are silent as they walk back into the school and into the first empty and unlocked classroom they see.

They both throw themselves in seats next to each other and Kieu My is vibrating out of her skin and she clears throat but doesn’t look over at Fatou when she gets out of her seat to pace in front of Kieu My.

“Are you cheating on me? Fatou spits out after a few laps of the front of the classroom and Kieu My almost chokes on her spit.

“Oh my god no, babe what?” Kieu My asks incredulously, “I would never, where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know! You’ve just been so distant lately and my brain has just jumped to all the extreme reasons that you aren’t around like maybe don’t like me anymore or you’re cheating on me or I’ve done something to piss you off or - oof,” Fatou’s ranting is cut off by Kieu My standing up and slamming their lips together. Fatou fists Kieu My’s shirt and tilts her head so she can deepen the kiss, after a while, they pull away and rest their foreheads together trying to regain their breath.

“I would never cheat on you because….” Kieu My trails off slowly, “because I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Fatou says and reconnects their lips and they both smile into the kiss.

“Okay, but what was going on though?” Fatou says a while later after they had moved away from the middle of the classroom, Fatou is sitting on one of the tables and Kieu My is standing between her legs.

“It’s going to sound so fucking stupid but I was jealous and my stupid fucking brain convinced me that you would leave me for someone more experienced and I just got so insecure that I guess I was just kinda pushing you away,” Kieu My says shyly and hides her face by smushing her face into the top of Fatou’s head.

“Baby, I would never. I love you and only you okay? I just wished you’d talk to me about it,” Fatou says and peppers kisses along Kieu My’s jawline.

“I just didn’t want to be that controlling girlfriend,” Kieu My says and leans against Fatou and enjoys the feeling of Fatou’s lips along her neck and the side of her face.

“You could never,” Fatou says and pulls herself away from Kieu My’s face and Kieu My whines in protest.

“I love you no matter what and I know you love me so I know you’d never do anything to hurt me like trying to control me okay?” Fatou asks and Kieu My nods her head and smashing their lip together.

“Scratch that, you’re gonna hurt me by knocking my teeth out if you keep doing that,” Fatou laughs after they detangle their lips and rubs her top lip.

“Dummy,” Kieu My says and they smile at each other.

Fin

Some amazing Kieutou writers!! noorakviigmohn on ao3, @michellejackson here on tumblr, prbblmz on ao3 and axolotl_girl on ao3 are just the people I know off the top of my head! 

[cycat4077]

Reunited

Summary: You reconnect with an old college friend only to find that your past comes back to haunt you. Set during summer 2016 (S17). Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: Mild cussing, some angst, some feelings and dialogue (sorry) Words: 3247 AO3 here

Part 8 of the Changes verse. Masterlist here if you're interested :) (Could probably read as a stand alone fic if you’re not into series.)

A/N: I really wanted to give my main character a friend and ‘Sydney’ popped into my brain. Also, do y'all remember back in 2015 when Sonny said he had an ex at the LAPD? Yeah, me too. So I took the liberty of using it :P Sorry this fic is kind of meh (On a separate note, the pic doesn’t necessarily mean the reader is blonde. I just thought a Sonny hug would be fitting!)

"Sydney?" you question, walking slowly up to the blonde who stands collecting her order at the campus coffee shop.

Immediately she spins on her heels and her face lights up with recognition. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaims, raising her arms to embrace you.

You and Sydney had graduated together from the master’s of education program; she, with a background in English lit and you, in biology. Despite being from different disciplines, you often worked on projects together and used your contrasting perspectives to bounce ideas between brains. As a result, Sydney became a close friend. But, as too often happens when people part ways, life whizzed by quicker than the two of you could stay in touch.

Now however, as you set foot on your new campus for a summer orientation workshop, you are thrilled to see a friendly and familiar face.

"What are you doin’ here, girl?!" she asks with the same enthusiastic energy you remember her for.

"New job!" you reply cheerfully.

"Ahh! That's awesome!" she squeals. "It'll be like old times! I've been in the English department for a few years now and I just love it."

You smile fondly. "I always knew you'd move back here.”

"Yup! You can take the girl outta the city…and all that stuff,” Sydney sweeps her silky locks behind her ear, “but I am surprised to see ‘little miss rural’ out this way!"

You raise your hands and shrug. "Me too! Though, opportunity knocked and I couldn't turn it down. Actually, this is my second teaching gig in Manhattan. I won't name names, but I got booted from my last one when a prof crawled out of retirement." You frown towards the ground, the wound still fresh.

"Bastards," Sydney mumbles under her breath. "That musta been rough, but I'm glad you're on the rebound." She offers you a hopeful smile. "You liking NYC then, since you ended up sticking around?" "It's alright. Different,” you admit. “I just moved in with my boyfriend though and he's slowly but surely converting me."

Sydney lets out another delighted squeal. During your college days she was always trying to get you to date. You told her about your past and she swore to avenge you. Unfortunately, her best efforts involved dragging you to parties and other social events where ultimately you ended up preventing her from making the bad decisions. Still, she cared about you and her genuine excitement over your relationship success makes you realize just how much you had missed her.

"I'm so happy for you! Is he cute? Is he smart? Does he work on campus?" She stretches her neck to look behind you as if Sonny is tucked away nearby.

You chuckle. "Nuh-no. He's an SVU detective. That's how we met actually." Her face falls with worry and you quickly elaborate. "I took a summer job there last year and we just clicked. He's really great." You smile proudly, stopping yourself from bragging Sonny too much.

"Aw, hon, I'm so excited for you!"

"Thanks! Hey, are you still with Geoff?"

"Hell no!" she fires quickly. "Caught that ess-oh-bee sneaking around behind my back so I kicked his ass to the curb. But it’s fine. I'm enjoying the single life and New York has just what I need!"

You smile. Same old Sydney. "Well, I'm glad you're all right and I'm thrilled we're here together! We have a lot of catching up to do! In fact, you should come by our place sometime."

"Absolutely! I'd love that!” she grins enthusiastically. “And that means I'd get to meet the man who swooped my shy science-nerdette off her feet!"

A blush creeps over your cheeks. "Did I mention he's an amazing cook?"

Sydney covers her heart like she's been shot. "You did now! So, I'll be holding you to a meal, you here me?" She glares playfully at you as she backs up towards the door.

You laugh and wave her goodbye. Sydney turns into her smiling self as she spins around and leaves.

-x-

"Wheh!" huffs the blonde standing in the doorway to your apartment. She’s just gotten her first glance at Dominick "Sonny" Carisi, Jr. "Ya didn't tell me he was such a looker!”

You swat her arm playfully. "Down girl."

"Hey there," smiles Sonny as he lumbers towards the front door. He's dressed himself in a pressed shirt and slacks for the occasion and he looks absolutely gorgeous. "I'm Sonny, nice ta meet ya," he continues, extending a hand in greeting.

"Ooh, Staten Island," she remarks, accepting his gesture. "Nice to meet ya too. I'm Sydney."

Sonny chuckles and points out her accuracy with a raised finger. "That Brooklyn I hear?" he counters.

"Sure is!" Sydney releases a laugh that’s as smooth and as charming as she is.

"Come on in," Sonny gestures towards your cozy little apartment. She steps forward, making herself at home just as she would always do when the two of you would visit somewhere new.

The evening transpires with a lovely dinner followed by story swapping, playing catch-up and allowing Sonny and Sydney to get acquainted. As the evening wears on however, an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach.

Of course, it's wonderful to have Sydney back in your life – she’s one of the few people with whom you had allowed yourself to really open up. But as you listen to her and Sonny talk about growing up in the Boroughs, it's hard not to feel just a little out of place. There's so much you don't understand. So much that you don’t share in common with them. The best you can do is smile and nod along as the conversation flows.

Sydney is an extrovert through and through. She converses with others easily and can win them over with her natural charisma. Sonny too has the gift of the gab, and the pair seem to be hitting it off really well.

By now you’ve lost track of what they’re saying, instead listening to your inner voice. It's selfish and petty to be feeling this way, but there's a small part of you that is sad...jealous, you suppose. Maybe Sonny would prefer to have someone who knows what it’s like to grow up in the city surrounded by a bunch of siblings. Someone who is talkative and charming instead of quiet and shy. Not only that, but Sydney is gorgeous, with her luscious blonde hair and winsome smile. She always draws the eye of every person in a room. You don’t resent her for it by any means, it's just that you’ve never been in a relationship when she was around and so you’ve never had to worry about a significant other falling for her.

Were you that insecure about yourself that you could feel this way? That you had to worry your boyfriend, your Sonny, would be swept off his feet? It wasn't fair to either of them. Sydney has always been kind to you and you hate feeling any jealousy towards her. But worst of all, it’s not fair to Sonny. You know he loves you. He doesn't care that you’re not a supermodel and he is genuine when he tells you that you're beautiful. He loves you for who you are…No other guy has ever done that before. And that's why you're so torn up right now. You shouldn't be feeling jealous or worried, yet you are and it makes your stomach churn!

"Doll?" a soft voice startles you from your thoughts.

"Hmm?" you respond, trying to act casual.

Sydney jumps in. "We’re comparing notes on the best hidden gem restaurants around the city and Sonny says you love a little Italian spot in Tribeca.”

"Oh yeah,” you mutter. “Great alfredo."

Sonny’s brow knits, clearly sensing something is off. His blue eyes narrow and lips purse. "It's a bit pricey," he states, putting an arm around you. The action knocks you off balance as he draws you to him. "But I like ta spoil my girl from time ta time." Sonny unleashes one of his signature smiles, squeezing you ever so slightly in hopes of easing whatever seems to be on your mind.

"Aww, you two!" coos Sydney affectionately.

-x-

It's late evening by the time Sydney is thanking you for dinner and heading home. You and Sonny work in silence tidying up after your guest. And in that silence, your mind once again resorts to fabricating nagging thoughts of Sydney and Sonny. Moments are replayed with emphasis on how naturally they seemed to get along. But it’s that same silence which causes Sonny to speak up.

"What's wrong, doll?" he asks, pausing to lean up against the counter.

"Huh?" you reply with confusion.

"Somethin's up. I can tell. You were kinda distant earlier too." It’s not a question; he knows you too well.

"Nothing," you lie, trying to refocus on wiping down the table. How can you admit any of this to him?

"Tell me. Please," he begs, bending his head down to try and meet your gaze.

"I don't know,” you wring the dishtowel in your hands, “it's just…I kind of felt out of the loop sometimes tonight."

"Whaddya mean?" his eyebrows shoot up with concern.

"Well, you and Sydney hit it off so well..." Your voice trails off for a moment before you finally meet Sonny’s blue eyes. "Sydney's beautiful and charming and easy to get along with.”

“And you're not?”

The bluntness of his question hits you like a ton of bricks. “But…but she's from here,” you argue, tears starting to prickle at your eyes. “That's one thing I'll never have in common with you!”

Sonny stares at you in utter disbelief. “Doll,” his voice drops down to a soft note, “that means nothin’. I love that you're from outta town. You're more naive to the city ‘n I can see that there's still things about New York that excites ya. The lights on Broadway or the view of Lady Liberty in the harbor. Your pretty eyes absolutely light up! It’s so easy to get lost in the hustle ‘n bustle, but you remind me to stop ‘n appreciate all the little things too.”

Sonny’s now standing directly in front of you. He grabs your hands in his. “And don't even get me started about havin’ things in common.” A cheerful smile forms on his lips and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “You ‘n I share odd tastes in movies ‘n we're both suckas for nostalgia when it comes ta music. But that's just the tip of the iceberg! The most important thing we share is our values. Family is priority numba one, ‘n you have no idea how long I've waited to meet someone who believes that too. It…it hurts me knowin' that you would ever doubt my love for ya.”

Those words cause you to fall apart and the tears you’ve been holding back trickle down your cheek. You cram your eyes shut, heart aching over the thought of making Sonny feel any pain. At the same time however, he also deserves to know why you still have your doubts.

You open your eyes to a warm hand caressing your cheek. It’s a gentle nudge to have you look at him. You find Sonny searching your features, so you interlace your fingers with his and gently tug him towards the sofa.

Sitting down beside you, Sonny gathers your legs to place atop of his. The closeness makes you feel safe as you mentally prepare yourself to tell all. You take a deep breath and glance up to a loving, encouraging smile pasted across on your boyfriend's features. “Sometimes I get worried that I’ll scare you off,” you tell him.

Immediately he interjects, rubbing your knee soothingly. “That’s nonsense, doll.”

“I know,” you say half-heartedly, “but it’s more to do with my own self-doubt.” Sonny’s expression saddens and he reaches out for your hand. You take it, linking your pinky with his. “Back when I was a biology student, there was this guy taking the same classes as me. He was a year or two older and we got along really well. We shared a lot of common interests. You know, movies and sports and all that stuff. It led us to spend a lot of time together during our free periods. He started doing these little things that seemed so affectionate. For instance, trying to sit tight beside me or asking to hold my hand. He paid me all kinds of compliments and even told me I was beautiful. Needless to say, I fell for him hard.” You pause, fiddling with Sonny’s finger. You had forgotten how much this all hurt to talk about.

Rubbing a hand across your forehead you continue. “One day, I worked up the courage to ask him out. But that’s when things spiraled downhill. He got really defensive and flat out said that he didn’t feel anything for me. That all the little things which I thought meant flirting were actually meaningless and, that I was crazy for thinking otherwise. To add insult to injury, he also said I was too young for him.” Sonny’s shoulders drop and he squeezes your hand a little tighter. “All I could manage was a lame ‘okay’ and left. I cried for weeks and it really threw me through a loop. I’ve been insecure about my feelings ever since. I felt humiliated and embarrassed for being fooled by his charms and for allowing myself to love him. So, I just buckled down and focused on my education, never really trusting myself to openly fall in love again. I was scared of making the same mistake – that is, until I met you.”

With your soul bared, Sonny swiftly pulls you into a hug. He holds you tight, warmth surrounding you as if he hoped it would melt away your pain. You press your face into the crook of his neck, giving him a soft kiss.

Sonny leans back, trailing his hands down your arms. “None of that was your fault, sweetheart,” he reassures. “That guy was a prick who needed ta lead ya on ta make himself feel important. Guys like that enjoy havin’ a girl’s affection, but the moment ya had the balls to tell him how ya felt he was too insecure ‘n pushed ya away. But y’know what?” he pats your arms lightly. “That’s his loss because ya have the biggest heart of any person I’ve ever met. N’ I’m lucky to be the one who gets ta be on the receiving end.”

His compliment makes you smile sheepishly. “Thank you, Sonny.” You truly love this man with all your heart. “I’ve tried not to let it affect me – affect us – but it’s one of those things that festers in the back of your mind.”

“I know,” he agrees. “It’s normal.” You watch as he looks away for a moment and swallows thickly. “I neva told ya this before, but I went through somethin’ like that myself…”

With Sonny being a chatterbox and sometimes oversharing information, it comes as a surprise that he too is guarding a part of himself. You flash him a reassuring smile, once again linking your fingers as a silent offer of your support.

And so, he begins. “I spent a year in California when I got out of the academy. There was this rotation at the LAPD ‘n I was young ‘n thought it would be really cool to get outta New York. Turns out I immediately fell head over heels for one of their young detectives. One bat of her eyelashes ‘n I was a goner. We ended up askin’ each other out ‘n life seemed great. Fancy dinners ‘n presents I couldn’t really afford. But at the time, it all seemed worth it because we were happy.” Sonny turns shy as he speaks and you feel a twinge in your gut. It had never occurred to you that he had been in love before you came along.

He looks up to the ceiling as if he dreaded the next lines of his story. “Then my contract was up. I thought we were a strong enough couple to stick together, so I asked her to be move back to New York with me. I said that we could be closer to my family ‘n that they were dyin’ to meet ‘er. But…we didn’t see eye to eye on that.” Sonny releases a sigh. “Yeah, she told me that she moved to LA to get away from family n’ that she loved it too much out there to up and leave. I was dumb ‘n in love ‘n I just didn’t get it. I offered to stay with her instead but she gave me the ol' speech: Yourra nice guy, Sonny, but we have different paces to life. It would never work out.”

You whisper his name, heart shattering on his behalf. He looks to you with a furrowed brow and continues. “I gave her my whole heart ‘n she wasn’t even willin’ to make an effort to keep us togetha. I don’t like to admit it very often, but I was a mess. I flew back to New York ‘n not long after joined law school. Then I ended up bouncin’ around the Boroughs until I met you.” Sonny’s face warms. His eyes sparkle and he unleashes a smile. “Now the whole world seems right! We can be ourselves around each other. I know I have my flaws, but you’d never judge me for ‘em. Instead, ya love ‘em too ‘n I hope ya know that it’s a two-way street from me.”

Now it’s your turn to smile. You remove your legs from him to cuddle under his arm. Sonny wraps around you and kisses the top of your head. “I love you, Sonny,” you mouth into his chest.

“Love ya too, sweetheart.”

You lean back to caress his cheek with your palm. “I think we have another thing in common,” you offer and Sonny peers at you inquisitively. “We fall in love easily.”

Sonny chuckles. “Yeah, it’s like you’re divin’ into tha deep end head first, but ya only find out it’s too shallow once you’re already leapin’.”

You nod your head in agreement. “It’s funny how that stuff always lingers with you. Like a scar that keeps scabbing over. When you jump off the swings as a kid and scrape your knee, you’ll see that scar afterwards and your brain reminds you to never do that again! It’s a shame that the same thing happens when your heart gets hurt. I always felt like I was scared to put myself out there over the fear of being heartbroken again.”

Sonny hums understandingly. “But,” he says, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “when the right person comes along, all that hurt disappears. Because this time,” he smiles affectionately, “when you jump off the swing, there’ll be someone there to catch you.”

Your serious faces contort into goofy smiles. “See? What did I tell ya, doll? We’re so alike that we even share a knack for makin’ up dumb analogies.” Sonny’s eyes once again crinkle at the corners and he shifts to kiss your temple.

Leaning into his touch, you close your eyes and savor the moment. It feels good to clear the air like this and to be able to forge a connection that’s just that much deeper.

---

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you’re interested in being part of a tag-list. Any and all feedback is loved :)

Part 9, “Stuck-On Cheese” is up here

[joyful-soul-collector]

Peter was scared

@keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars asked:  Ohhhh can you do one for the line: “Peter was scared.”?? Please?? Congratulations on 300 followers hon, you’re amazing!

Thank you so much! Here’s your story ❤️💙❤️

Read on Ao3!

300 Follower Celebration!

Irondad Taglist: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

Peter was scared. Not quite like “crushed by a building” scared, or “I have a history test tomorrow” scared, or even “maybe that wasn’t the best decision” scared, but a bit of all three and then some, mixing around in his stomach with all the terrified nausea in there. 

And all just because he would be spending the weekend at the Avengers Compound for the first time. Well, that wasn’t the only reason, but he didn’t want to think about the other one yet. Aunt May was going to be out of town for a few days, and as soon as Peter had casually mentioned this to his mentor Tony Stark, Tony had all but insisted that he stay at the compound until she got back. 

So here he was, sitting the backseat of a car headed for Upstate New York. And wishing more than anything that he wasn’t. 

Alright, maybe not more than anything, Peter reasoned, watching the world outside flash by. I do wish I was bulletproof. What’s the point of superpowers without bullet-immunity? Or at least a way to make it really easy to avoid it. Like superspeed. But it’s fine, I can stick to walls and have super strength. Basically really stubborn wallpaper.

Peter spent the rest of the ride thinking about nothing in particular until he saw the large white building looming on the horizon, and he felt his stomach do a nervous backflip and his heart start to pound. And it only got worse when he saw Tony waiting for him, his hands shoved in his pockets and a smirk on his face. 

“Hey there Underoos!” he said as Peter got out, lugging his backpack and a duffel bag with his clothes and toothbrush.

“Hey Mr. Stark!” Peter said, doing his best to mask the anxiety making him want to grimace rather than grin. Tony didn’t seem to notice, and Peter breathed a mental sigh of relief.

“Here lemme help you with that.” Tony held out a hand to take Peter’s backpack, but Peter held it just out of his reach. 

“You sure?” he said with a smirk, knowing Tony would take the bait. “It’s really heavy.” As he suspected, Tony rolled his eyes and gave him an exasperated glare. 

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that. Gimme,” he said, making grabby-hands at the strap of Peter’s backpack. Peter slid it off his shoulder and held it out to Tony. As soon as he let it go Tony had to scramble to keep it from hitting the pavement, ending up with both arms wrapped around his backpack. 

“Jesus--What the hell is in this thing!?” he said, struggling to get one of the straps over his shoulder. “Did you bring some tech in here with you or something?”

“Nope, that’s just my computer and my homework. And it’s actually a bit lighter than usual, I took out all my chemistry and calculus homework since I did it already,” Peter said. The look on Tony’s face made him burst into laughter, easing the knot of anxiety in his chest a bit. 

“Jeez, how do normal, non-spider kids do this?” he muttered as they made their way to the front doors, hunching over slightly, and almost making Peter feel bad for not carrying it himself. Almost. He was literally asking for it. 

“Well it definitely wasn’t a fun time back when I was a string bean with asthma. I had to use my inhaler any time I had to walk more than a block with that thing. Aunt May used to meet me outside our apartment building so she could carry it up the steps for me,” Peter said with a laugh, opening the door and holding it, letting Tony walk through and promptly drop the backpack on the nearest chair. When he stood up straight again Peter heard his back crack and giggled at the frown on Tony’s face. 

“That’s it. I’m making a drone to carry your stuff for you. Cuz that--” he pointed to the offending bag, “--is bullshit.”

“I have super strength, it’s not really heavy anymore,” Peter said with another snort of laughter. “It would be better to somehow convince my teachers I don’t really need five hours of homework every night.”

“Friday, remind me to figure out how much money it would take for a teacher to be bribed into giving less homework,” Tony said as they walked to the elevator. 

“Done Boss. Would you like to put in an order for pizza to be delivered for dinner?”

“You know me so well, Fri.”

The rest of the day passed pretty well, and Peter was distracted from his lingering worries by the gadgets in Tony’s lab and by the pizza and movies they watched together. But when Tony looked at his watch and told Peter he had to go to bed, he felt his heart sink. 

“Wh--It’s not that late--”

“It’s ten o’clock kid, and even superteens need sleep. Plus I think your Aunt would kill me if I let you stay up any longer,” Tony said, picking up the empty pizza boxes and putting them in the trash before switching off the TV. 

“Well, she doesn’t have to know--”

“As tempting as that is, you really should sleep. Believe me kid, you need rest to function, and I don’t wanna have to deal with a grumpy spider in the morning,” he said with a kindhearted smile. 

Peter barely had the willpower to make himself smile back. Tony gave him a hug before sending him off to his room. Peter got changed into his pajamas, feeling dread rise in his throat like bile with each passing second. He cracked open his door before shutting off the light, taking a small comfort in the fact that Tony would be staying up a little longer. He climbed into bed and did his best to fall asleep before the light in the hall went out. 

~~~

Peter’s eyes opened without his permission. He’d been asleep, and then quite suddenly, he wasn’t. But the effect of waking up was almost instantaneous. 

He couldn’t even see his blankets in front of his face, the darkness was so thick. It was surrounding his arms like heavy ink, filling his lungs with black ashes and crushing him, crushing him like a ton of concrete. He tried to calm himself, to ground himself with something, but he couldn’t see, and the panic was making his fingers feel numb, and seemed to stuff his ears with cotton. 

He threw himself out of bed, stumbling and feeling his bedside table for his phone, but when he couldn’t find it he felt the walls for a light switch. He wanted to cry when he finally felt his fingers graze the small switch, and he flicked it on. 

Nothing happened. 

“No, no no no no--” Peter whimpered, flicking it up and down and up and down, before feeling for the door still resting ajar. He stumbled into the hallway, and even though the windows provided a tiny amount of light, it was too cloudy outside to help much at all. Peter tried the hall lights, then the kitchen, then the living room, feeling tears tumble down his face as they all gave the same, terrifying result as the one in his room. 

“Please, please please please work, please--”

“Kid?”

Peter jumped so hard he almost crushed the switch he was frantically flicking. He turned, and there was Tony, his arc reactor glowing bright through his thin pajama shirt, providing the light Peter had been desperately looking for. Peter had to stop himself from flinging his arms around his mentor. 

“Wh-Why don’t any of the lights work?” Peter said, his voice trembling from fear and tears. 

“There was a storm--the thunder really didn’t wake you? It knocked out the power,” Tony said. 

“N-No, I… I have really loud neighbors.” Peter sniffed, wiping his eyes. “I-I’m s-sorry I woke you up. I d-didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine, I was just in my room reading anyway--Woah, wait are you crying?” Tony said as he came close enough for his metal heart to light up Peter’s face. Peter started wiping the tears away more quickly, ducking his face a little. 

“Oh, uh, no it’s ok, I’m--”

“Oh Peter,” Tony said softly, laying a hand on Peter’s cheek and wiping a stray tear from his eye. “What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

“N-no,” Peter said, feeling his face grow hot. 

“Are you sick? Are you hungry? Did you get hurt out on patrol? Peter you gotta tell me when these things happen--”

“No, no no no, it’s not anything like that,” Peter said. “It’s just… it’s stupid. It’s really really stupid.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that,” Tony said gently, pushing curls out of Peter’s shining eyes. “Whatever it is, it scared you, and you don’t have to be ashamed of being scared. Just tell me what happened kiddo.”

Peter ducked his head and squeezed his eyes shut, wringing his hands for a few seconds before he spoke. 

“I-I’m scared of the dark!” he blurted. “I-I woke up and the light in the hall was off and it was so dark it-it felt like I was suffocating, and I couldn’t even see my blankets or find my phone and then the lights wouldn’t work and--” Peter broke off with a sob, burying his face in his hands. “It didn’t used to be like this! I used to be able to sleep fine! But now whenever I’m in the dark by myself I feel like there’s something crushing me, like I’m being buried alive by a bunch of concrete and bricks and dust--”

Peter started crying even harder now, the tears falling so fast and his chest growing far too tight to speak any more. Luckily, it seems he didn’t have to, because Tony circled his arms around him, pulling him tightly to his chest so that Peter's head laid right beside his arc reactor. He ran his fingers through Peter’s hair while his other hand rubbed his back as Peter slowly regained composure. When his sobs had reduced to small hiccups and sniffs, Tony spoke. 

“There you go. You’re all spent huh? I haven’t seen you cry like that in a little while,” he murmured, starting to slowly rock them both side to side. 

“I--I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“Shhh, it’s okay. I don’t care about the crying, it’s okay to cry, remember? And it’s not stupid to be scared of the dark. You’ve been through a lot Pete, and you’re still just a kid. It makes sense that you’re scared of the dark. It’s okay to be scared,” he said, still speaking in that soft, calm voice that made Peter’s shoulders relax. 

“It’s just… kind of annoying,” Peter mumbled. “I know I’m safe, but when I wake up in the middle of the night like that I’m all like, disoriented and freaking out and too tired to get my thoughts in a logical row.”

“What do you usually do when this happens? Does your Aunt know about this?”

“Aunt-Aunt May knows, and I… I, um…” Peter trailed off, feeling his face turn bright red. Tony chuckled, causing Peter’s head to shake slightly on his chest. 

“I won’t judge you kiddo. Just tell me,” he said. Peter bit his lip and avoided Tony’s eyes. 

“I um… I have a nightlight,” he said. “It uh… it looks like your arc reactor.”

“Does it now? So even little toddler Peter liked Iron Man, did he?”

“No--I mean yeah, I did when I was little too, but um, my nightlight from when I was little broke a long time ago. Aunt May bought that for me after the first time I freaked out in the middle of the night,” Peter said. 

“Huh. Why the Iron Man light?”

“It’s not an Iron Man light. It’s a Mr. Stark light,” Peter said. Tony had to think about what he was saying for a moment before he got it.

“Ohhh, I’m your nightlight?”

“Yeah.”

“I… I keep you safe? I stop the uh, the crushing feeling?”

“Yeah.”

“So, why didn’t you bring your, heh, your Mr. Stark light with you? Did you forget it?”

“No, I just… I didn’t want you to make fun of me,” Peter mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh kid… I’m sorry,” Tony said, resting his chin on Peter’s head. 

“Huh? For what?” Peter said, opening his eyes in surprise when Tony hugged him a little closer.

“I clearly haven’t done a great job of making sure you know I wouldn’t make fun of you for something like that. I would never make fun of your fears kiddo, even if I did think they were silly. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear earlier,” Tony said. 

“Oh. Um, it’s alright, it’s fine,” Peter said, not entirely sure what else to say, and absentmindedly tracing his finger around the edge of Tony’s heart. 

“Heh, it’s not really, but I see what you’re trying to say,” Tony said with a small smile. “Well, since we can’t exactly go out and get your Mr. Stark light right now, why don’t you have the real thing for tonight?”

Peter blinked, then lifted his head off Tony’s chest, staring up at him in confusion. 

“What do you mean?”

“You want to sleep in my room tonight kiddo? I’ll be your light, I’ll make sure the dark doesn’t get you,” Tony said.

“A-Are you sure? I don’t wanna intrude or--”

“I’m offering, Spiderling, it’s not intruding if I offer.”

After a moment Peter smiled and nodded, and the two headed to Tony’s room. Tony was sure to grab Peter an extra blanket to help with his thermoregulation, and then they both slid under the covers. 

“Goodnight kiddo,” Tony said, being sure his arc reactor wasn’t hidden beneath the covers. 

“‘Night Mr. Stark,” Peter said with a yawn. “Thanks for being my nightlight.”

Tony smiled, warmth growing in his chest. 

“Of course Peter. If there was only one thing I could use this heart for, I’d want it to always be your light in the dark.”

[holdin-out-for-a-hero]

Rookie- Leon Kennedy X Reader Ch.13 Part 3/3 Finale

Warnings: None

A/N: thank you all so much for your support! I’m gonna make a sappy post pretty soon thanking you all and my plans for the future

That little girl was stronger than anyone you knew, though clearly upset by the news, she maintained composure. Wearing the red leather jacket on her shoulders, she studied the note again and again. Ruminating was not something she should be doing, so you thought of a way to distract her.

"Let's get you some breakfast," you said to the girl, ushering her off the bed and out of the motel room. You walked across the street to the gas station once again, telling her to grab whatever she wanted. You knew bribery wouldn't cure her broken heart, but it didn't hurt to try. She came back to you with a bag of mini-donuts, so you paid for them and headed back to the motel room. Leon was waiting outside the door when you came back, immediately looking inside the bag Sherry had. Was he that hungry, too?

Sherry only ate a few of the donuts, instead she kept reading the letter. It hurt to watch her eyes cross the same page a hundred times, but there was nothing you could do about it. Leon reached for the bag, but stopped when you glared at him. There were still a few snacks left, but the donuts were Sherry's.

There was a knock at the door. You and Leon looked at each other in confusion as you didn't know who to expect. If it was the woman from the front desk, she would have busted in already, so you had no idea who could be out there. You stood up and looked out the peephole. Two men in suits, you knew this was not good.

"Who is it?" Leon whispered to you.

"Suits?" was all you could say. Leon instinctively put Sherry behind him.

You opened the door slowly, flashing a smile to the two men in front of the door.

"Can I help you?" You asked.

There was one older gentleman who carried himself as though he were James Bond. Beside him, a wimpy looking guy. Both men flashed badges in your face. FBI. You had been though enough with Ada to not believe just anybody who shoved a badge in your face.

"It's gonna take more than that for me to believe you," you said, dropping the nice act.

Unfortunately for you, they were the real deal. They seized all three of you and took you to an undisclosed location. Then, they separated you. It disgusted you that they would do that, separate a child from the only people she knows, but you knew better than be surprised by it.

You sat alone in the interrogation room, wringing your hands as you waited for someone, anyone to end your pain. This was a mind game, and you knew it. They had already taken your outlandish statement, and now you waited while they decided your fate. This whole encounter proved to you that the US Government was either investigating Umbrella or protecting Umbrella, you prayed it wasn't the ladder.

You wondered what Marvin would think of this, what he would do. Pulling out you wallet (that you were surprised they didn't take), you unfolded your favorite picture; the one taken on your first day. Your eyes met Marvin's. He had on his signature frown, but the corners of his eyes were crinkled. Your missed that man more than anything. In the back of your mind you hoped that maybe, just maybe, he was watching over you.

The door to the interrogation room opened. The older man from earlier entered with a file in his hand.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he smiled. You knew it was fake. "We have a proposition for you."

"What is it?" You asked, sounding more rude than you meant to. You couldn't help it, though. Not in this situation. The man chuckled a bit.

"The three of you know too much, that's for certain," he began, "but we know keeping the girl would be rather cruel. If you and-dangit-what's that boy's name?"

"Leon," you said through gritted teeth.

"You and Leon could be useful. Not many people could survive multiple encounters with biological weapons, let alone a viral outbreak. We think you two would be good agents."

"Good what?" You asked. Was he serious? Forcing you into a government organization?

"Agents, Ma'am. Or you could go into the witness protection program but we would keep the girl."

"You're sick!" You yelled at the man. He only laughed.

"Make your choice, though I believe I already know the answer."

You put your head in your hands. You couldn't believe it. What kind of sick, twisted person would do such a thing?

"I need an answer," he hummed.

"You know my answer."

"Good, it looks like you and the boy are on the same page."

There were a few seconds of silence before you spoke up again.

"Can I see them?" You asked.

"What makes you think I'll let you?" he laughed. You were sick of that laugh.

Then you had an idea.

"Counter-offer," you began, leaning back in your chair. This caught him off guard, and you couldn't help but smile. "Let me see them. Let me say goodbye to sherry, AND keep in touch with her. Also, don't separate me and Leon."

"What are you offering?" He asked, confused.

"A flash drive. One that I found in the umbrella lab, and put many official documents and emails on."

The man's eyes widened.

"But-but we searched you. You didn't have anything on you and there was nothing in the hotel room."

"I know where it is, though. Is it a deal or no?"

The man abruptly got up and left the room. You could hear a muffled conversation outside the door, and your grin grew even bigger. You knew that flash drive would come in handy, and you instinct to hide it was a Godsend.

He peaked back into the room, looking defeated.

"You've got a deal."

"Really? Now put it in writing."

The man cursed under his breath at your cockiness, before closing the door. After a few minutes, he came back with the newly printed contract, which you signed. Then, you demanded to see Leon and Sherry. The poor man couldn't catch a break, could he?

The door opened once again, and Sherry was led into your room. She looked as though she had been crying. Your pride disappeared as you brought the girl into a hug. You held on for what felt like forever, refusing to let go in the hopes that you could have more time with her.

You pulled away and looked back at the girl, tears brimming in your eyes again.

"We've got to talk, Sherry," you said to her. You knew this would be hard. "Me and Leon have to stay here, but don't worry, you can live a normal life now."

She looked at you, and you knew she didn't like that answer. But there was nothing you could do about it. It was for the best, for her best.

"We're gonna keep in contact, I promise. We're not abandoning you. I'll call you every night."

"You promise?" She said, here eyes red and ready too.

"Pinky promise. You can't break those," you said to her, lifting up a pinky and and curling it around hers.

Then Leon came in, immediately dropping to the floor to hug Sherry.

"I didn't think I would get to see you again," he said to the girl. He pulled away, holding onto her arms, "Now you be strong, everything's gonna be just fine. It might be weird for a while, but things are gonna turn out just fine."

He looked over to you, standing up and walking over to you as if he just noticed your presence. There was a look of amazement in his eye.

"I heard you made a deal," he said, "I'm curious, what deal did you make?"

"Remember that flash drive? The one I got from the lab?"

Leon's eyes widened. "You gave them that?"

"I didn't give it to them. I hid it, told them where it was. Wanna know where I hid it?" You were grinning at the last part, he was sure to get a kick out of it.

"Where?"

"In the lost and found box," you grinned.

"Eww," Leon laughed. "Thats really clever though. Make 'em dig through all that nasty stuff"

There was a pause in the conversation, you leaned against the table in front of you, just like Leon.

"Did they tell you all the conditions I had?"

"They said me and you could say goodbye to Sherry,"

"Seemed like they missed a few," you said, his eyes widened, "We get to stay in contact with Sherry, too, and they can't separate us. So you're stuck with me, Leon. I hope you don't mind."

You were surprised when Leon grabbed your face and kissed you, though you didn't mind. If anything, you rather enjoyed the way he showed his appreciation.

"Um, I'm still in here," Sherry said, and you and Leon parted quickly.

Pretty soon, they came back to take Sherry, and you and Leon had your tears, heartfelt goodbyes. You made sure to slip Claire's email address to her, as you had already memorized it. That left just you and him in the interrogation room now as you waited for whatever would happen next. In the meantime, though, you and him were talking about everything: The past, the future, hopes, dreams, fears, nothing was kept under wraps. You were so thankful that you and him just clicked, it was so easy to get along with him, to feel comfortable around him. The easiest though, was falling in love with him.

"I never thought my first day as a cop would wound end like this. I mean, look at us! We're working for the government now." He said, "We're about to be rookie agents."

Your eyes widened and breath hitched. No. No. Not again. You couldn't even believe it.

You were gonna be a rookie again.

"Are you kidding me!"

But maybe, just maybe, since you wouldn't be the only rookie this time, it wouldn't be so bad.

[thoushallnotfall]

Hi! Would you say David was obsessed with Michael or had real feelings for him? I saw a girl talking once about how David, even after his brothers getting killed, still talks to Michael to "stop fighting him" and still asks him to join them. I was thinking about that and I wondered if this was just a form to David to tricky him again or he was really trying to convince Michael to give up and stay with him? And if so, would it be because of feelings or because he hates to not get what he wants?

Real talk? 100% honest opinion? David is a repressed bisexual wreck and this movie is as gay as the Fourth of July.

Now I feel like I’ve touched on this a little bit in some of these previous “deep dive” questions (thank you guys so much for continuing to send me these I swear I am on cloud nine right now) but honestly what I personally feel the characters themselves would realistically do/feel/how they would react to things as real beings with complex emotions/backstories, and how this 1h 38m horror/comedy movie treats their reactions are not the same thing.

Look, as much as we love the characters and as writers and fans have expanded on them as much as we can and actually care about them as individual characters with like, actual thoughts and feelings--they’re the monster antagonists of the film. This was also the 80s. They’re not really meant to have complex motivations. 

Even when I read the prequel script Schumacher literally cares so little about developing the personalities of the other lost boys that aren’t David he just kind of throws their names in at random when they have to talk, and I know that because at the end when the fifth lost boy that was just in the prequel script had died, they still gave him a line postmortem because they literally don’t care who says the line--they just plug their names in at random. 

All the personality we get for the other boys comes 100% from the actors, from how they developed their characters. Yes, they get direction and I’m sure Schumacher had an idea of what he wanted for each one, but I think it was only at a surface level (I would murder someone for a copy of Lost in the Shadow so I could read more about this, but c'est la vie). They’re background props in the movie; I mean I don’t even remember hearing Dwayne’s name in the movie. He’s got like, maybe three lines? One of which we all just choose to ignore as writers because it’s so out of character for him. (I cringe whenever I get to that scene in the movie every. single. time) It took the actors actually caring about their roles and trying to develop them further for us to be able to pick up on all the little things and wring out what personality we can from their performances.

So as far as the David/Michael dynamic. I would say David 100% has feelings for Michael. No doubt in my mind. This movie is gay to the max. I already talked about the reasoning behind David changing Michael in relation to Max. I think he brought him into the cave with the intention of having Michael be Star’s first kill, but I think David and the boys genuinely enjoyed hanging out with/messing with Michael and on a whim David changed his mind and decided to turn him. But if we’re being real I think David was repressing a mad crush he was forming on Michael at the same time.

That is the face of a conflicted bisexual man who’s suddenly realizing, “Oh no, he’s hot.” I don’t make the rules.

Seriously though, I think David genuinely had feeling for Michael. It’s not like David and the boys hang out with other guys on a regular basis aside from each other, and I see their relationship with each other in a more brotherly way rather than sexual, particularly when you look at their relationship from the prequel script (are you guys tried of me talking about the prequel script yet?). So for David, this would be the first time in probably 80ish years that he’s actually just hung out and had fun with another guy that wasn’t one of his brothers. He’s probably feeling a lot of repressed feelings coming to the surface and Michael’s a good time, so why not? Plus he’s a snack. So I agree with the movie on this part, I think David would have gone through with turning him for his own reasons (not because of Max).

But after his brothers were killed I don’t think David would have still been trying to recruit him. I think the movie is sincere in this line though.

I think movie!David is still trying to get Michael on his side, most likely because of Max (again, from my previous post, I really think the secret villain reveal hurt the characters in the movie more than it helped) because Max still wants Michael to join them because he wants Lucy. 

I think if we’re being fair to the character though, no matter how heartless people might think David is, even when it comes to the other lost boys, (I’ve talked about that too) he’s not. This is an 80s horror movie, this is before the villains/monsters were allowed to be complex and have real feelings (fun fact: that tear David sheds in the movie after Marko dies and the Frogs/Sam flee the cave? It was actually because the glass contacts Kiefer had to wear. You could only keep those things in your eyes for like 5 minutes before they dried your eyes out really bad, hence the tear; but Schumacher liked that it fit the scene so he kept it in the movie. That’s the only reason we get even an inkling of emotion from them post-Marko death.) so we don’t get to see the complexity of his character as much as we’d like. I do think Kiefer, the absolute king he is, really did an amazing job of trying to throw in a lot of layers to the character. 

So to wrap up my rant here, I personally think there are two answers to your question.

I think, in the movie, David is genuinely still trying to get Michael to join him. Whether it be for Max’s benefit or not I can’t say, but I think, for the sake of the movie, yeah, that’s what that scene was trying to do. I think movie!David is totally crushing on Michael and that’s why he turns him, but I don’t think that has anything to do with why he’s still trying to get him to join after the boys are dead. Pretty sure that ship sailed; it’s all business now.

But if this character was allowed to exist outside the sphere of a 90 minute movie? If he was allowed to deviate from furthering the agenda of the “secret villains” plot? No. No way in hell would David still be okay with Michael after what he’d done to his boys. He’d being flaying him alive. 

Thank you so much for the question! It was such a good one! ❤️ Feel free to send me any more! I am always down to answer these kinds of questions. (I’m genuinely surprised anyone actually want me opinion on this stuff. It’s bonkers. You guys are amazing.)

-Rachel

[yooleestruck]

in which lee rambles about how great writers are

I don’t really know what this is. I don’t know if now is the right time to do this, or a really bad time, or if it makes any sense, but I want to talk about it! I feel like a broken record saying ‘the writing matters most, the writing matters most’ but maybe I need to show what I mean by that? So, here is an attempt. 

I’m sorry not all of these are the same length and not everyone is here, because every time I see that someone is a writer I do try to follow but I don’t always know/remember! Also I am weird about this sort of thing and don’t want to tag people in a monster-long post, so I’m just going to link. I also don’t want to make this a producers vs writers thing, it’s not, it’s just, when I say I notice writer-stuff, an explanation of what, specifically, I mean. 

Writers have a style fingerprint. I’m sure someone with an actual creative writing or English background could describe it all academic-ly, but my ex-chemist ass is just going to call it a fingerprint. 

My first game in Lovestruck was Starship Promise - I love Firefly, I’m a bisexual disaster scientist by education, it fit. But I had been REALLY put off by GIL when it first came out (this was back when they released stories in parts? And the heroine, which I will get to) and though I’d glanced at AFK, I mistrusted it after GIL and Medusa, who was who I was interested in, wasn’t out yet. So I resisted a LONG time.  I finally picked up LS and SP and played it explicitly because a friend said, you need to give this another chance, for a list of specific reasons. 

And when Atlas’s route came out, I read it a stupid number of times. I must have re-read his season 1 & 2 at least eight times apiece (he is still my most read route, despite the fact I have not read his last season because I want to leave the story open-ended)  so when I read Neil Dresner’s route, I recognized the fingerprint. Not only that, when I was reading Jett and the episodes with the paint scene (YOU KNOW THE SCENE) came out, my breath caught with how lovely it was, a particular in-between moment and touch, and even though it wasn’t a phrase I had seen, the style of it, had me re-reading (because it was gorgeous) again and again from the log for like five minutes and I thought, “I bet Melissa wrote this” AND SHE DID. 

Physical touch! (& in-betweens)

Melissa-grey has a particular way of writing about physical touch in very emotional moments that is very real and grounded and ironically the effect is just magical. It creates these so skillful “in between” moments, those little things that aren’t dialogue and aren’t metaphor but SHOW you that this closed off person is cracking for their little ray of sunshine. They are SO subtle and so beautiful, like, the heroine noticing the scent of a pillow, or a softening of an aborted hand movement.  She sets up and executes these moments of physical touch as a conduit for emotional touch with characters who aren’t ready to admit he latter and it’s DELICIOUS. Those little in-betweens are what I live for in story - and it includes all the supporting cast moments, who swell up to make the world feel lived in, and balanced (I loathe love stories where no one else exists! That’s a recipe for disaster, people need networks) I noticed when she stopped writing, and because I missed it, I went and bought the entire Midnight Girl series, as well as Rated (I hope that is flattering and not creepy!) and that style of writing is so unique, that without KNOWING, I picked it up in four separate routes (noticed in Sev’s s1, too!) 

Pacing (& friggen heartache)

Another fingerprint! Ripping your heart out! Arthoure has had me in tears, MULTIPLE TIMES and I get very grouchy about it every time because I am the least sentimental and romantic person that I know (I once MOVED STATES to avoid an ‘I love you’ conversation. I once said ‘yikes’ in response to an ‘I love you’ and I once broke up with someone because I thought he was going to propose. I’m a bitch) but I think it’s because of pacing! I know that producers play a role in that, but that actually makes it more impressive, because making each bit of story feel like it fits precisely the amount of space it needs when you don’t really get a say in how much space that is has got to take a MASSIVE amount of effort. Every little hint, every emotional beat, every character tell, they drop at a consistent build so the emotional payoff is just brutal (in a good, cathartic way?) every time a route makes me cry I wait and see and YEAH ITS ALWAYS ARTHOURE. The sweep and sentiment of Remy’s season 2 is unparalleled. Across Time is gutwrenching, and I actually stopped reading Renzei at one point because I was so emotional over it I had to like, LEGIT TAKE A BREAK to recover. Pacing and heartache. I have to stop and wonder - is it because the routes themselves are so gut-punching? OR is it because she knows how to wring every last emotional drop out of whatever story framework is handed to her? Because, Ezekiel’s villain costume is a bit silly (there I said it, it is) I get the cobra helmet shape in theory but in practice, ooof, but POINT BEING despite being skeptical I’d be able to take his story seriously as a result, I was hiccuping from crying so much (and I am gosh darn adult, in my thirties, with three degrees and a high-stress job at pretty major company. I DON’T CRY EASY)

 Dialogue (& heroines!)

Xekstrin is the gosh damn master of dialogue. Clever, witty banter that doesn’t go where you expect it to, meandering but natural topic changes that are delightful to follow and feel real, and--special shoutout for this, okay--the navigation of viscerally important topics like consent, kink, self-worth, power in relationships, self-sacrifice, and apologies in a way that is not stilted or forced at all (listen, I know Viv & Lyris are the most recent and they are amazing but I remember this first hit me when I was reading Astraeus, and I spent half the route with my jaw on the floor going, oh shit,  oh shit. The communication! The navigation of the complexity of emotion going on, chef’s kiss! Casual isn’t the right word, but, natural, maybe?). I don’t actually take that many screenshots of the app--it’s usually single lines that get me--but when I do, they are almost always conversations from one of her routes, because they’re so damn good, and often so unexpected, and yet always make such perfect sense for the characters involved. Dialogue is SO HARD OKAY. Actually try and transcribe a conversation sometime, it’s nuts how people talk vs how most people write people talking. Xekstrin also writes some of my absolute favorite MCs, and going back to fingerprints, I was reading Lyris s1 and right there in the first tavern scene, as we were following along with the heroine’s thoughts I went, ah, yes, I know who you belong to and I am SO EXCITED. Being able to give the heroine unique thoughts and quirks, to make her genuinely relatable, without overriding the necessary template of the genre dictates, is a skill all of its own. But I love her MCs! There is a beautiful balance of compassion, competence, and dash of bratty, wild, fun mischief. I can actually cheer for them. I can actually get behind them. I WANT the love interest to flop at their feet for who they are, not just because the story says so. And that comes from how the heroine’s thoughts are written, from her phrasing in conversations, how she sees situations, not just a producer saying ‘she is a strong lead who is self conscious about her ears and she’s nervous in the council meeting’ or whatever. I AM REALLY STRUGGLING to articulate this if you can’t tell from how long I have been blathering. Maybe this - the heroine is the same across every route, presumably, yes? Everyone has the same base. I NEVER question, when xekstrin is writing, why the love interest falls in love with her. Side note - I had hard written off GIL after a bad experience with the standalone app. I only read Aurora BECAUSE I learned she wrote it, and I would have SO MISSED OUT otherwise.

A complete aside in which Lee grumbles about heroines and not writers!

(Complete side vent: Often, the heroine is, if not a blank slate, a sort of collection of assigned traits, and she often remains so unless the story demands she become otherwise. Which is fine! I don’t personally, but I know a lot of folks self-insert, and so erring towards that makes sense. Almost all the otome I’ve played were originally written for a Japanese audience. When I played original Voltage games, starting back in 2014, I always had to remind myself - different culture, different culture, different culture, and it was not possible for me to relate to most of the heroines. I still enjoyed the stories, but I rarely cheered for the heroine’s romance, especially in some of the slice of life stories. I understood her, but I rarely wanted her to get with the love interest, I wanted her success to come in other ways! Another game company, Cybird, tried to ‘Americanize’ their heroine to IMO disastrous effect - it was such a stereotype, and made no sense since they didn’t also Americanize the context, so she come across as, frankly, ridiculous. And frankly, Voltage’s GIL heroine REEKED OF THAT. When they first posted her on social media I was legitimately annoyed about it, like could you lean into this more? I think not. So when I talk about being able to relate to and cheer for the heroine, it’s a big deal, because my blatant mistrust of Voltage and their ability to craft a heroine I could tolerate was a BIG factor in how long it took me to give Lovestruck a try. I was willing to tolerate it in translated stories, I was so skeptical of -en only ones.) 

Metaphors (& balance)

literacouture writes beautiful metaphors for connection between humans! I’m really bad at keeping track of who writes what, but I purposefully kept an eye out on tumblr after reading Cal’s route, because there were some lines that were pure poetry, and I wanted to keep an eye out for more. It is HARD to spin metaphors prettily without delving into trite, painful, purple prose cringe territory, and it’s navigated beautifully in Cal’s route. There’s a balance between those spin-out moments and things that are tangible and anchoring and make it feel authentic and unique to the two characters involved, instead of just ‘I am trying to make this sound romantic and this is a romantic phrase so here it is’. That balance is really necessary. You NEED the mundane alongside the metaphor or it doesn’t feel authentic. Also. Trying really hard to write this without throwing any authors or producers under the bus, but...listen. I love Sin with Me. But the world logic (or LACK THEREOF) drives me up a wall. I don’t read Cal because of his character traits or sprite or (sigh) his story. I read him because literacouture writes a beautiful romance.

 So anyway...

There are more! When I am less tired and don’t have meetings, I will try and write them up (Please know there are so many routes I love, and so many things I do recognize across chapters! I don’t even HAVE words for what theivorytowercrumbles accomplished with Helena’s story not to mention how much I adore Cyprin,  SummerLightning’s handling of Onyx’s past relationship was so deftly done when it could have so quickly become ‘milk abuse for plot’ and joidecombat gave Sev a fresh, mischievous energy and navigated the dream/reality line with SUCH skill, and so on and so on.)

I’ve written a lot of reviews. And I try to give nods where I feel they’re due - sometimes, it really is obvious that the whole team’s work came together to makes something great, the world, the plot, the arc, the art, the words, and the music all fit into place in a  well-crafted tour de force. And sometimes one piece or another is lacking, and I’ll admit I’ve left some...less than kind reviews to that end (I try and soften it, because I know there are humans on the other side of everything, but I’ve been harsh more than once with my opinions).  I’ve read routes with plots that made me want to tear my hair out because I DO value consistency and logic to a degree, even if I’m going to accept at face value that, say, space travel is a thing or demons turn to sand when stabbed. 

In the end, these are romance stories. So I will let a lot slide when it comes to plot. What sells a story are the words - not the outline.

And if Voltage doesn’t believe that - just remember that Hamlet existed long, long before Shakespeare wrote it. His was the version that lasted, because the people liked it best. The plot, the world, the characters, they all existed a hundred times over. Even just look at fan translations of manga. Why do people keep translating, even if someone else has? Because the words someone else picked don’t do the story justice. 

I don’t know. I’m talking in circles because I don’t know my own thesis! 

Maybe it’s just - the worlds these stories in are nice. But when I say I’m a fan of something, the premise is like. 10%. The rest is the writing. 

[randomrosewrites]

H. A. W. K. S.

“There’s a certain kind of pain that follows denying your pleasures in life.”

A brief abstract piece on Hawks as a character. 

Words: 2179

Rating: Mature 

Read it on ao3

// Possible manga spoilers. No events in the manga are mentioned outright, but some things and aspects of Hawk’s past are alluded to. 

Warnings: Blood + killing mention. 

Enjoy. 

                                                     H. A. W. K. S.

                                                    Act 1: Heights.

It’s raining tonight. 

He’s always liked the rain. Maybe it made sense, with his quirk and all, but something about water streaming from the heavens soothed him. 

He’s crouched on an arm of a crane, at the top right where the hook hangs 50 meters below him. His wings are hunched up, rain cascading down them like they’re made of glass, his coat and hair are lightly misted with a thin layer of water. Cupped between his gloved hands is a room-temperature can of instant coffee. He takes sips from it whenever he remembers to.

It’s a quiet night on patrol. The city has, graciously, decided it was going to be quiet for the night. He gazes out over the world, city lights flaring against the plastic of his visor. He pushes it up onto his hair. Rubs his eyes. Blinks. Drinks some coffee. 

Nights like these were what he - in theory - enjoyed. Quiet. Serene. No one around to disturb or ask him anything. Perched at the top of the world, weightless and free.

But every time those graveyard shifts rolled around, without fail, an extreme sense of disappointment settled in.  

He knows he should be happy. He should be savoring the precious moments of peace whenever he could, as they were such a rarity. But he couldn’t help but feel a sense of emptiness, a hole where he was expecting joy to fill it. Instead of feeling free, he just felt tethered to the ground, an invisible chain wrapped around his ankle. 

He stares up in the air, being met with pitch blackness. He can’t tell the difference between cloud and sky. 

Being alone meant there was...nothing. Nothing to do. No one to talk to. Nothing he had to be. He didn’t have to be anything - no one but himself.

Himself… who even is that person, if they even exist? The line between his hero persona and who he truly is blurs with every passing day that now he thinks - fears - there’s no difference. It’s just one blur, like the clouds in the night sky. 

After the curtains shut (if they ever shut at all…) and he takes his final bow as Hawks, who is he?

He gazes out over the city, burying the multitude of thoughts he doesn’t have answers for far away from his mind.

                                                    Act 2: Apathy.

He never wanted to be in the top ten. But as most things in his life, fate had a different plan for him. 

He doesn’t understand why he’s so popular. Ok, well, that’s a lie, he does partly. But he doesn’t understand what makes him good enough for the top of the pyramid. He’s not like All-might or Endeavor, who became famous for their pure strength. His wings are powerful, sure, but not that powerful. 

If he had to take a guess, he’d bet the appearance of his feathered appendages were a big contributor to his fame. That and a mix between his speech and his looks (don’t even ASK him what his fans see in him, he has no idea. ) But in the end, the why isn’t important, but how he handles that fame. 

He smiles politely at the people crowded around him. Sign this for him. Nod at that person. Take a photo with her. Thank this person. Laugh at this one’s joke. Let the kids tug on his wings.  It’s all standard stuff he’s been trained to know how to do. Simple. 

The hardest part is figuring out what people want. How much effort to invest in the conversations, how much he has to smile to make them satisfied, but not enough for them to get too confident. People and their emotions are easy things to figure out. It’s a formula.  A pattern. Once you know what they like, it’s just a matter of providing that euphoria again and again. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a person who wriggles through the crowd, coming close to him. They appear nervous, maybe hopeful, wringing their hands out in front of them. 

“Excuse me?” They ask. 

Hawks finishes up signing something for a kid and turns to them.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I…” As they pause, Hawk’s eyes trail lower. A red feathered charm hangs from a metal chain around their neck, resembling the feathers on his back. 

He recognizes it. It’s one of his merch products from the latest jewelry line that came out. He showed it off in a recent photo shoot he did. The necklaces have been very popular, from what he’s heard. 

The fan clears their throat and finds their voice. “I just wanted to say thank you for all that you do. I love you so much and I think you’re amazing.”

A confession? He feels like laughing. Wow. It’s not the first time he’s had one of those, and it certainly won’t be the last. 

He smiles good-naturedly at them. “Thanks! I’m grateful for all the support my fans give me.” 

They flush, just happy to be able to talk to him. He wishes he could feel bad. Or feel anything for all these people fawning over him.

But he doesn’t. He feels nothing.

You don’t love me, he thinks, you love the idea of me.

                                                      Act 3: Wings.

“What a great quirk you have! I bet you’ll be able to become a super-strong hero with it!”

“You’re so lucky to have a powerful quirk!”

“I’m so jealous of you!”

“Wow...look at them!”

...things like that were what people told him all the time as a kid. How lucky he was, how blessed he was, blah blah blah.

He’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling of his apartment. He’s shooed most of the feathers out of his wings, leaving just little whisps on his back. It’s still a bit uncomfortable and feels a tad annoying when they press against the sheets of his bed, but he doesn’t mind. Sometimes that ache is good. 

The rest of his feathers flit about the room. Some stick to the walls or ceilings, others hover around, suspended in midair. A few zoom around, disturbing the others, but most just kinda lay around. 

Mighty wings. That’s the name they gave his quirk. A more accurate term would be mighty feathers, but it’s not like he cares about the technicalities.  

He rubs a dead one between his fingers. The barbs are frayed and the edges are bunched together. 

It was always his quirk that got him attention. It was always the wings that people noticed and remembered - not the man who controlled them. Without them, would anyone even recognize him? Or was he just a pretty face that went along with them? 

He glares at the feather in hand, crushing it carelessly between his fingers. The crack of the stem as it breaks echoes through the room. 

So yes, what a great quirk he was born with! It was so good, they decided his life for him.

                                                      Act 4: Kill.

His wings always felt heavier when wet. Sadly, he found out it didn’t need to always be because of water. Blood also weighed them down. 

It was his first time in a mock battle. Back when he was...7...8? Something like that. 

Well, anyway, he’d been up against an opponent that was a lot stronger than he was in terms of physical strength. It wasn’t an important fight, it was just a casual sparing match. But they’d both fought like their lives were at stake. At the time, his feathers weren’t as strong or large as they are now, so he didn’t have much to work with. 

During some point in the fight, though, he remembers getting a nice cut on his opponent. Right along the arm on the meaty part of the tricep. The feather jerked through the skin, cutting a jagged, wobbly line into the muscle. 

When he felt it, he shivered.

Afterwards, he cleaned himself up in the bathroom, washing away his own blood from the cuts and scrapes he gained. When it came time to do his feathers, he’d thrown away the bloodied one, taking an hour to carefully preen and scrub the rest of his dirtied feathers. 

Back then, it felt easy to get the blood off of him.

Now, things are much different. 

How long do you have to wash your hands before the blood goes away entirely? He ponders to himself one night. Does it really ever go away? Or does some of it stay behind permanently in microscopic percentages?

He stands over his sink, shoulders hunched, head hanging. The faucet is on, sending a gush of water down the sink. Wasteful, he chastises himself. 

Blood trickles from his nose in slow, steady drops, twirling down the drain. He’d gotten careless, a bit too sloppy, and the consequence had been him landing face-first into the ground. It wasn’t broken, thankfully, it just hurt like hell. 

He stares at his hands, gripping the edges of the sink. They’re spotless - not a drop of blood or a spec of dirt on them. He’d worn gloves after all. It made cleanup easier. 

The wings on his back twitch. They’re red. Even though he can tell when there’s blood on them (it’s always just a bit darker) who knows for certain if they’re entirely clean? Maybe the blood just stains them, slowly changing the colour of them, layer by layer. 

He stands there for a minute, before pumping a few squirts of soap into his hands, and viciously scrubbing them together. 

No guilt. Just the need to be clean. Though he knows that it’s pointless to think he’ll ever be it.

                                                    Act 5: Sorrow. 

There’s a certain kind of pain that follows denying your pleasures in life. It’s not a sharp pain but a slow scrape, like someone is tearing your heart apart tissue by tissue, leaving behind nothing but a cold pit. It creeps up on you, seeping into your body, sucking the life out of you.

Most people hated Mondays. They're the first day of the business week, always the hardest to come back from after celebrating the weekend. For Hawks, it’s always the opposite. Fridays are the hardest for him.

All around him, he sees people living their lives. Excited students going for karaoke, exhausted business owners going for a relaxing night in, clusters of friend groups going out to eat at a restaurant.

Everyone is having fun, they’re existing, relishing in the pleasures of life.

But for Hawks, those weren’t things he could take part in. He’s always busy, tied up with one thing or another that the higher ups needed to be done. An endless, to-do-list that only lengthens the faster he tries to go. 

Sometimes he wants to scream. Or cry. Or slam his fists into the ground. Rip his throat raw until he can't speak. He felt the need to do something to ground himself, something to treasure himself that he was alive. Because half of the time, he feels like he’s not really living. 

Every day is the same. Different day, sure, and different tasks, but the same routine. Like a loop. He gets up, works, goes to bed exhausted, wakes up exhausted, and repeat.

Over and over and over. 

And what is the point of it all? He’s only...what, twenty-two? And yet, he feels like he’s lived enough for a lifetime and not long enough simultaneously. 

He wants to go out and see the world. He wants to curl back up in bed and sleep for a solid three months. How can two oxymorons both be true? 

He tears his gaze away from the window and the people walking in the streets of Tokyo, shutting the blinds and taking a seat at his desk. 

Even on his darkest days, even when he feels like he can’t handle being himself for another second, he always calms down. Without fail, he always picks himself back up, piece by broken piece, and looks forward to the future. 

It’s the only thing he can do. 

                                                      H. A. W. K. S.

He’s barreling forward in life, flying faster than his wings can take him. 

One of these days, he’s going to trip and fall. Maybe he’ll slip further than he can catch his mistakes, or maybe he’ll reach his nonexistent limit and throw in the towel, but inevitably, one of these days he’s going to come down.

“Hawks.” A woman in a plain black suit and dark sunglasses says to him. “The meeting is starting now. Are you fully prepared?”  

When that does happen, there’s no doubt it’ll be painful and ugly and hurt like all hell. He’ll fall through the sky, crashing and burning, hurtling towards the ground where he’ll collapse in a trembling, pathetic mess. 

But until that point, he’ll keep flying on. Because it’s the only thing he knows how to do. 

He smiles, ready to compromise himself over and over again.

“Yup.” 

Hawks. A man who’s too fast for his own good. 

[the--sad--hatter]

I'd love a trope-y tipsy drabble! Bucky is fine if he's your current muse, but Loki is my #1, so either is good. Pretend boyfriend? Huddling for warmth? Drunken confession of feelings? THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED? Any or all of these is acceptable. Or just pick your own. Whatever floats your boat.

Some Loki for you, cause he's your fave, and you're MY fave ❤️❤️❤️ ill write you a better one soon, I don't know how this turned out I can't actually remember what I wrote.

I love youuuuuuuuuu. Writing while on my meds is kinda funnnn

Loki x Drunk!Reader.

You were celebrating. You couldn't really remember why you were celebrating, but it didn't matter because the celebrations were well under way and they were going great!

For you.

They were going less well for Steve, the only soberish Avenger in the room. He'd designated himself your babysitter after you'd downed three shots of some glowy red alcohol that tasted like cherries. Every so often he would hand you a glass of water, not realising that Bukcy and Sam were switching out the water for vodka. Poor Steve couldn't understand how you were as drunk as you were.

"Little One, come show these fools how it's done! “ Thor boomed, pointing excitedly at his hammer.

" If she lifts it, does she get Asgard? Can I come with? I can be the Queen's hand!" Sam asked.

You stumbled over to them, eyes on the prize.

" Molly!“

You couldn't pronounce the hammers name on a sober day, never mind this day. It didn't seem to mind being called Molly though,or you would have stopped.

You wrapped your arms around the handle and tried to pick it up, fully expecting it to work. Which it did!

Kinda.

"That's cheating, that doesn't count!“ Tony protested.

" I'm King!!" You gasped, sorta wondering why you were hovering six feet off the ground.

" Yeah, no. She's not lifting it, she's cuddling it while you lift her. Disqualified." Clint snorted.

"Oh. I'm not King" you realised sadly.

You're sadness was short-lived though, by the entrance of the newest team member, the sulky one who rarely socialised.

"There he is! The lanky god of sex appeal!“ You screeched, wriggling free of Thors hold and shooting off towards Loki.

" Wait, what did you just say?“ Tony demanded, catching a hold of you and pulling you back.

"What?" You frowned, spotting a free seat on the sofa between him and Rhodey.

"Do you have a thing for Loki?" Clint gasped accusingly.

"who told you?“ You asked worriedly.

" Uh you did. " Tony snorted.

" Oh... Well OK but nobody tell Loki okay! He won't like it, and I don't wanna punch him away cause he's so lovely you know?" You sighed dreamily.

" No, I don't know... Tell me." Natasha prodded, with a strange kind of smirk on her face.

"Well he's pretty, like the prettiest. And he's got all that body that he swagger about with while he's being all murder and strutting, it's so sexy. But he's just a sad lonley person who reads all these amazing books and let's me borrow them, and he always makes tea and stuff. He's so kind and thoughtful. A real Prince charming. But we can't tell him I love him, it'll scare him away."

"Uh, doll? “ Bucky winced.

" I just wanted to deliver this." Loki said from behind you.

" Loki! Hi! Look everybody, Loki's here!" You gushed excitedly.

He stiffly held out a square object wrapped in green cloth to you.

" Happy Birthday. " He whispered, looking anywhere butt at you.

"It's my birthday???"

Thta must have been what the celebration was about!

"Can we talk?" Loki asked, almost shyly.

"OK." you agreed brightly, clamouring over the back of the sofa to get to him.

"What are we gonna talk about?" You enquired giddily as he stepped in to help you free of the couch when you were struggling.

By struggling you mean you were somehow upside down hanging over the back of it.

"I think he wants to talk about your loveeeee for him.".

"YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TELL HIM! “ You gasped your eyes filling up with tears.

" We didn't! You did!" Wanda sniggered, shaking her head fondly at you.

"I did? Ohhhh. Did he take it well?“ you asked, wringing your hands together nervously.

"Ask me yourself." Loki whispered in your ear.

"Loki! Hi Loki!" You squealed happily, launching yourself through the air and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow to talk." He sighed.

"Talk about what?“ You frowned, pulling back enough to look at his blurry face.

"It can wait my darling, but rest assured it is a conversation we will both enjoy!" He whispered softly, so only you could hear.

"Huh?"

"It seems I have stumbled onto some interesting information this evening... And I intent to tell you I was happy to discover it, but I think I'll wait until you have a chance of remembering my words." He grinned.

"Oh, okayyy. Hey, Loki! I think it's someone's birthday!“