#This was further proved by my friend later telling me that i have my faults but the know they can relay on me for anything

[echoelena-ing]

Me :What the fuck do you mean I'm a good person, I just told you about how I threatened a girl and enjoyed it 'cuz she said something to my friend.

My seatmate:Because that's what a good person does.

Me*realizing I'm not actually trash I just went through puberty reading about Cale Henituse and ended up imitating his personality to T by accident, and now I'm just that batshit crazy friend that will do anything if pushed to a certain point with absolutely no regards for my own safety as long as everyone else is ok.*

[azrakaban]

A Little Longer - Mattheo Riddle X GN!Reader

A/N: OH MY GOODNESS ME. Sorry I've taken such a long break from writing, if I told you all the things that have happened in the past two months you honestly wouldn't believe me LMAO

Warnings: cursing, yelling, soft Mattheo I think? lmk if i missed anything xxx 

Note! I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible, if I've messed up anywhere, please feel free to correct me! But please do it nicely guys <3

The wind nipped at your face, chilly and biting as you wrapped your scarf tighter around your face. You forced your eyes to look into the swirling sky, where your poor boyfriend, Mattheo, sat frozen to his broom. 

Watching house Quidditch games was the highlight of every month for Hogwarts, but it made it supremely less enjoyable when the weather was unpleasant. And, as a particularly dark cloud decided to let fall a rainstorm, it became decidedly worse.

You craned your neck back to watch him above you, barely hearing whispers of what he was saying as he yelled instructions to his team members. 

Mattheo had been pushing the team hard all season - it being his first year as captain, he did not want to disappoint. You rememered the long suffering look Enzo gave you in the common room when Mattheo was dragging your friends out to train at 7am. 

As you watched, Astoria flew over your head, flanked by two Gryffindor chasers, who managed to throw her off, causing her to drop the Quaffle. She swore, sighing as they sped up towards the Slytherin goalpost before giving chase, but not quick enough to reclaim the Quaffle before another goal was put through the post, making the score 20 - 230 

You noticed Mattheo's expression darken further, and sighed. He would likely be in a bad mood later. 

Your eye was then caught by a sudden burst of movement on the other side of the pitch, where Potter and Draco were neck and neck in a dive for the Snitch. 

Draco raised his hand, victorious with the snitch clutched in his hand, yet the Gryffindor end exploded in cheers. With the score now at 170 - 230, Gryffindor had still won by a large margin. 

The Slytherins around you were all sighing and shaking their heads as they all made their  way out of the stadium. You had agreed to meet Mattheo at the Slytherin locker room, so you made your way there.

 As you approached the door though, you heard yelling. Pushing it slightly ajar, Blaise caught your eye and mimed cutting his head off quickly, clealy telling you to leave. You nodded, leaving swiftly and heading back to your empty dorm. 

About 45 minutes later, Mattheo turned up in your dorm, hair slightly damp from the shower, and, spotting you, promptly came over and lay his head in your lap. 

"Heya bubs." You smiled slightly, looking down at him. "Hey." He mumbled dejectedly.

"We lost." He groaned, messing up his curls. You lifted a hand and started gently playing with them. "Yeah, this time. But there are still going to be other games, you don't lose everything from this game, okay?" You replied soothingly. 

"But it was our first game, my first game as captain, and I blew it. I pushed them too hard, and I blew it." He sighed. "I wanted to win this for them, to prove that I could do this, be responsible, make it work. And it just..." He lifted a hand and let it drop onto your sheets. "I failed them, and it's not even their fault. I yelled at Draco for catching the snitch, even though that was the best thing to do..." 

"You didn't fail your team." You interrupted him. "Sure, you lost a game, Mattheo, but all captains lose games! It's part of playing, you make mistakes, and you learn from them. PLus, you guys were playing into the wind, the Gryffindors had the weather behind them. Now, if you wanna say that the weather is your fault, you're gonna start sounding a little self centered..." You giggled slightly, and an amused huff escaped Mattheo. 

"Yeah yeah, okay, I get it." The pressure lifted off your thighs as Mattheo moved to sit back against your pillows, opening his arms for you. "C'mere sweetheart, wanna hold you, please." He asked, giving you puppy eyes. 

You immediately caved and moved forward towards him, letting him cuddle you like a teddy bear. 

"Thank you."  He sighed after a few moments of holding you, drawing patterns on your back with a fingertip. "What for, silly?" You looked at him, confused. He chuckled slightly. 

"Grounding me, not thinking I'm a dick, just being an all round awesome person to date?" He shrugged. "For letting me rant about this shit." He squeezed you slightly. 

"No worries, idiot." You smiled, kissing his cheek. He gasped in mock horror. 

"Idiot? That's what you call your suffering boyfriend? WOW, okay, WOW, I see how it is." Mattheo mock glared at you, gently shoving you away. 

"Aw come on, don't be like that." You laughed slightly as he pulled you back into his arms. 

"I should go apologise for being a Class A dick to the team shouldn't I?" He sighed, looking at you. 

"Yeah, probably." You nodded, squeezing his hand. Hd pulled you a little closer. 

"Not yet though. Wanna keep holding you just a little longer..." He muttered, pulling you back into the nest of pillows with him.

A/N: Writing was shit, may delete later <3 Sorry for this miserable attempt at feeding u hungry people, love you all!

[antimonyandthyme]

1k; alex/logan; after the australian gp

His phone was clinking incessantly. Very determinedly. Logan dredged up determination in equal counterforce to ignore it.

“Whoever it is,” Alex said, “is being clingier than cling wrap.”

“Not your best,” Logan said.

“Whatever. Why don’t you answer it?”

“It’s probably just Oscar.”

That got him an Oh? Alex shifted, groaning, stretching his arms out in a way that was not meant to be sexy at all, but somehow still painfully was. Logan stared down at the wrinkled sheets instead. He was shaky all over, but kept himself still. “What does he want?”

“To check on me, probably.”

“Good friend,” Alex said. His tone landed somewhere in the middle of a chromatic scale, careful, but not too wary, interested, but not too concerned.

I don’t know about you and George, but me and Oscar, we get along just—

It was too early to be this petty. “Yeah,” he said, and left it at that.

Except Alex had a bone to chew. His not-quite smile was sharp, his eyes a little too assessing. Logan supposed the morning-after spiral presented itself differently in everybody.

“What will you tell him?”

“That I spent the night fucking my teammate,” Logan said.

Alex pulled back, like that scalded. Okay, ouch.

Logan sighed. Oscar always said there was no point wielding a knife if he was going to feel bad about it, less than a second after. It was a habit he couldn’t rid himself of.

“Of course I’m not saying that. Just—that I’m sleeping in. Or something else believable. I’m not an idiot.”

“Didn’t say you were.” Alex ran his fingers through his hair, which barely served to dissuade any unruliness. He looked so rumpled it was almost endearing. Logan had the maddening urge to smooth him down, act as sandpaper to Alex’s edges. “Sorry. I’m not being. I’m not—”

“You’re being an ass,” Logan said flatly. “Can you have your freakout later? After we’ve showered, at least?”

Of all things. Alex’s smile softened, turned a little more real. “So you admit it.”

“Admit what.”

“You are mad at me.”

I’m not mad, Logan had said last night, when Alex showed up with a bottle of conciliatory wine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck, so unusually uncertain of himself that Logan felt the inane need to comfort him. Alex, I promise I’m not. Here, to prove how not mad I am, let’s finish this bottle together. See?

“I’m—” He shut his mouth. There were very few pretenses here. Eyes red-rimmed and bodies tender in the most intimate of places, sheets still faintly damp. “I’m being childish.”

“You’re not being childish,” Alex said shortly. “Something got taken away from you, and for what?”

Logan shrugged. It wasn’t Alex’s fault, that much was certain. But the taste on his tongue soured past morning staleness when he thought of James. “It was for the team.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Get out of here with that bullshit.”

“I should have crashed my car, like Max suggested.”

“That’s more like it.” Even the flyaway strands in Alex’s hair appeared delighted now. “Let it all out.”

The corners of Logan’s mouth twitched up. “What are you trying to encourage? Our own multi two-one?”

Alex scoffed. “When Williams makes better cars, maybe.”

It sounded impossible, even as people who had the patience to recognize dreams took what felt like eons to manifest. And anyway, Alex wasn’t the person he’d endure a silver war with. Logan’s phone was still making glass-shattering noises.

“You should reply.” Alex relaxed back into bed. They were both equally grateful for the distraction from their futures’ uncertainties. “Way it sounds, he’s about to have a conniption.”

Logan could picture it, Oscar’s not-anxious-anxious face, the line of his mouth flattening impossibly further the longer it took to get a response.

sorry, shit signal last night

Mate, the response was instant and borderline angry. Where are you?

in bed

Not technically a lie.

hungover

Ok, Oscar said. You good?

Was he? Alex was looking at him, expression threaded with amusement and an understanding reserved for teammates who only knew how to take things from each other. The night could’ve been worse spent. Alex’s mouth, hot against his, and his calloused hand, rough against his sensitive, greedy cock, was welcome enough to push James’ sympathetic face out of his head for a decent enough time.

i’m good. thanks. appreciate you asking osc

“You’re awfully polite for an American.”

“Fuck off,” Logan said.

There was another unopened text that surely Alex had caught a glimpse of as well. Logan tossed the phone aside. His lips found the underside of Alex’s jaw. Alex’s groan was exceedingly nice to listen to. The stutter in his hips, the surprised gasp he released, as Logan worked his way downward, was even more rewarding.

Later, showering—

“I’ll say no, the next time.”

Alex was playing with the suds in Logan’s hair, making snowmen that stuck out like lumpy marshmallows. The shower in the hotel room, like all showers in hotel rooms tend to be, had misty glass enclosure walls. Logan checked their reflections out in the mirror. They looked presentable, pressed up against each other. Friendly, like all good teammates should be.

“Good, good,” Alex said absently. He continued massaging Logan’s hair.

There was a small flicker of irritation. “I’m being serious.”

“I know you are,” Alex said. He smoothed the shampoo down, palm slick and comfortable, then scratched his fingers gently against Logan’s scalp. “You’re allowed, of course. To say no.”

You’re allowed, Logan heard in the silence that followed, to see where that takes you.

Coming from Alex, it didn’t sound that patronizing. More generous, really. Encouraging. Maybe they would have their own multi two-one, after all.

The text: Logan, I’d like to discuss some things with you today, if you have time.

Impossible, aggravating. James hardly needed to ask for Logan’s time. It was already his.

Logan leaned his head back, snug against Alex’s collarbone. The spray was pleasant, going around his eyes, courtesy of the shield Alex’s back provided. It was warm.

He thought about what to say.

[tethrarisms]

[bg3 heavy spoilers]

Of all the gaslight/gatekeep/girlboss characters in this franchise, the very one that irritates me the most is The Emperor/Balduran. Not because he manipulates you (everyone kinda does in this game, whatever), but because of the way he does it.

He needs the player to trust him? Okay, I could forgive him for appearing in my dreams as my idealistic knight in shining armor (as he puts it himself!!), but he KNEW what he was doing when he chose to wear the greek tunic. HE KNEW!

He was really trying to seduce the player and use it in his favor to manipulate them more easily. He keeps pressuring the player to use the tadpoles and become stronger in order to defeat the Absolute, but he legit keeps the most important part: he wants YOU to become a mind flayer, a fact he only reveals waaaay later. Consent anyone?

And then? He keeps pushing the mind flayer agenda into you, and only reveals stuff about his past when the player finds out. When confronted about keeping you in the dark, he simply says "it's not relevant to our alliance". IDK, man, you killed your best friend who also turned out to be a dragon and the most important defender of Baldur's Gate. Maybe you should have told me that before going through all the trials??? So I wouldn't waste precious time?? Plus I wouldn't have to fight a very angry dragon because of YOUR mistakes?????

At some point, he even flirts with you, and since mind flayers are incapable of having feelings, what was he trying to accomplish if not emotionally manipulating the player even further?

Oh, but it doesn't stop there. He legit keeps Orpheus in the astral plane and gets angry if you suggest to do things differently, even when the very githyanki are fighting nail and tooth to free him despite all their Vlaakith drama.

But the last drop? The last drop??? It's when he tells ME that the fault of failing to defeat the Elderbrain is MINE because I'm WEAK lmao. And then, when the player finally decides to follow their instincts and free Orpheus, he gets SO BITTER that he will get IN YOUR WAY when you're just SO CLOSE to the Netherbrain, even when Orpheus is right at my side, proving him wrong.

The fact is he's just a patronizing, arrogant sob who can't admit he's wrong. And it pisses me off so much the way he needs to be the chosen one because "oh, I'm so special and evolved yaddayaddayadda".

You know which mind flayer I met and trusted him day 1? Omeluum. Omeluum is cool af and never lied to me. He apologized for making my tadpole stronger. He tells the player to leave him to die during the prison break (and I went through all the trouble to save him anyways because I do like him a lot). Omeluum is kind and humble. The Emperor could NEVER and I never felt more pleased when I killed him in the final act.

Rest in Raphael's arms, beatch. Won't be missed 0/10

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: Yeosang swore it wouldn’t be hard to take care of his son, Yujun, and Wooyoung’s son, Hunter… the task proves to be more difficult than he originally thought. Pairing: none (Yeosang x fem!reader at the end) Tropes: parent au Genre: fluff, slice of life Rating: G Warnings: children getting lost, tears Word Count: 1,179 Note: @songmingisthighs this is all your fault again

Baby!Xikers Masterlist

“You promise to be good while I take Junghoon to the doctor?” Wooyoung questions the five-year-old.

“Promise!” Hunter replies, saluting his dad.

Wooyoung gives him a skeptical look before smiling at his younger son. Without a second wasted, he knocks on the front door of the home. Rather loud pattering gets muffled through the door, followed by a very hyper child opening the door.

“Kang Yujun, what did I tell you about answering the door without me?” Yeosang calls after him.

Yujun giggles, “It’s Uncle Woo and Hunter! Not bad people!”

“Debatable,” Yeosang says under his breath, “next time, wait for me, okay?”

He ruffles the boy’s hair. Yujun whines and fixes his hair again, mumbling under his breath that his mom did it this morning already.

“Thanks for watching him again. I’d take him with me, but I cannot handle both him and Junghoon being sick at the same time.” Wooyoung explains.

“It’s nothing. You know these two are practically attached at the hip as it is.”

Hunter pushes past his uncle and grabs Yujun’s wrist, dragging the boy upstairs to begin their shenanigans. Wooyoung huffs and shakes his head.

“How did we manage to both have crazy sons, born the same day at that.”

“Probably a punishment for being your friend.” Yeosang teases.

Wooyoung shoves his shoulder, “Seriously though, you’ll be okay with both of them?”

“Do you think I’m an incapable dad?” The older raises his eyebrow.

“No, not at all… I just know they’re a bit crazier when they’re together.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t lose him.”

It’s about an hour later when you text him asking if he can run over to the mall to buy Minjae, Hongjoong’s son, a birthday present. Explaining that bringing Hunter and Yujun would be fine since they’ll want to help pick out their friend’s gift.

“Boys!” Yeosang calls up the stairs, “You wanna go to the mall and buy Minjae a birthday present?”

There isn’t a verbal response. Instead, there’s a rumble of small feet bolting down the stairs. Yujun and Hunter are panting and already trying to find where their shoes are to be on their way out the door. Yeosang lets out a light chuckle watching the two five-year-olds try to get themselves ready.

“Daddy,” Yujun whines, looking up at him with a pout, “my shoes.”

“Hmm?” Yeosang responds, “I can’t understand you when you whine, Jun.”

Yujun pouts again, “I need help tying my shoes, please.”

“There we go!” Yeosang responds, kneeling down to help his son tie his shoe.

Hunter seems like he’s about to explode with excitement. His little body is bouncing incessantly by the front door. Yeosang had no idea how or when the other boy got his shoes on, but he’s not complaining. Yeosang gently tucks a piece of hair behind his ear before helping the boys put on their jackets, followed by putting his own on.

“Let’s get going then.”

“Daddy, can we go to the toy store?” Yujun enthuses once they’re in the mall.

“Yeah! Can we? Can we, Uncle Yeosang?” Hunter adds on.

“We’re here to get Minjae a present, not to buy toys for ourselves, okay?” Yeosang reminds them.

“Yes, Daddy!” Yujun enthuses, saluting him.

“Can we get candy for ourselves, though?” Hunter asks, eyes already fixated on the colorful store.

Yeosang sighs, “Not today, Hunter. Your dad might kill me if I send you home sugared up.”

Hunter pouts but still follows after his uncle as they trek further toward the toy store. One thing about Yeosang, if he has a goal, he won’t be stopped until it’s completed. Of course, he always is on high alert when his son is with him. Yujun is always very good about being close to him when they go out, though. He’s never had to worry too much about him wandering off. So when he looks to his side and doesn’t see either Yujun or Hunter, his heart drops through his ass. You and his best friend were about to murder him. He immediately starts going back in the way he came from, hoping they just got distracted by one of the seating areas that they passed by. When Hunter is involved though, anything could be happening.

He’s on high alert, trying to hear or see anything that could lead to where his son and nephew could be. He thinks his heart may burst through his chest with how hard it’s beating. All he can think about right now is finding the kids and not letting you or Wooyoung end up behind bars for killing him.

That’s when he hears it. A very familiar cry, one he doesn’t hear too often, but he knows it well. Yujun, it’s Yujun’s cry. Yeosang practically runs through the mall to find Yujun sitting on the floor sobbing while Hunter is completely unbothered beside him. They’re in front of that brightly colored candy store Hunter so desperately wanted to go to on their way to the toy shop.

The moment he’s within reach, Yeosang scoops Yujun up into his arms and holds him as tight as he can. The five-year-old continues to cry but slowly calms down as he breathes in his father’s comforting scent.

“I got you, baby. I’m here.” Yeosang soothes.

“We didn’t mean it.” Yujun sniffles, “H-Hunter saw the candy a-a-an-and we wanted to look at it more.”

“It’s okay, Junnie. I’m right here now. Take deep breaths for me. Calm down.” he soothes more.

“Uncle Yeosang,” Hunter calls, “we won’t tell Daddy and Yujun’s mommy if you buy us candy.” he offers with a wide smile.

“You are your father’s son, huh?”

Hunter giggles, “So? Can we?”

“Can I put you down now, Junnie?” Yeosang asks softly, placing his son down when he nods, “You boys need to pinky promise not to tell Mommy or Hunter’s daddy, okay?”

“Okay!” Hunter agrees, putting his pinky out to Yeosang.

Yeosang links his pinky with Hunter’s smaller one. He then links his pinky with Yujun and places a small kiss on his forehead to further soothe the still sniffly boy. They do end up being able to choose some candy each and also get their friend his birthday present. Hunter was over the moon, managing to get his way. Yujun was a bit more clingy, but Yeosang, of course, expected that after getting lost in such a big place. The entire drive home Yeosang continuously checked on the two children, even after they fell asleep halfway through the ride.

“How was the mall, boys?” you ask with a light chuckle when you hear both kids and your husband walk through the door.

“Uncle Yeosang lost us!” Hunter exclaims.

“I-” you try to formulate your thoughts, “I’m sure he didn’t lose you, Hunter.”

“Mommy,” Yujun says softly, “Daddy did lose us. I think I need cuddles.”

You pick him up and immediately find your way to the couch to comfort your little boy.

“Hi hon-”

“Don’t you ‘hi honey’ me you lost my baby.” you huff.

“Jung Hunter, you promised not to say anything!”

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[transuncletaylor]

(tw: some childhood neglect and abuse talk)

My therapist had me talking to my younger self the last two sessions and I decided I wanted to write her a letter. And then share it as an act of vulnerability and letting people in, but also to continue my story and hope that it helps someone else out. And maybe because I want someone to read it and tell me I'm doing okay.

I didn't know what to say to her the first time my therapist had asked me what I would say. I don't actually remember what I did say even though it was just a week ago. Today I told her I was sorry. I was sorry that she had to go through all of that growing up and I'm so sorry for what she's about to go through.

However, I told her we made it. We can't see right now that we've made it further than we could have ever imagined, but we're here and we're learning to see with eyes unclouded. We realized lately that we struggle not needing approval from others, that we can get that inwardly, and that we have nothing to prove, we don't need to prove why we are worth love or kindness or space. We're working on letting in the love of others and really feeling it and loving in return.

But young Taylor, there's so much I wish I could go back in time to tell you. I want to reiterate that I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that and you worked with what you had. You had to scrape by and steal and go hungry because all you had after rent and bills was $10 and a bag of oranges until you could go to yours mother's home. You fished donuts out of dumpsters for fun, but that kept you fed. You medicated yourself because feeling became too much to bear after college and your shitty friends encouraged it. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry that I didn't know better, that I did what others told me to do because they were all I had.

We changed our life around, applied for grad school when Ian applied because we didn't know what we wanted to do so we did what he did. Our mom kept us on puppet strings and so when we started slipping line by line, we looked for someone else to guide our broken strings. He wasn't the worst, but he was still an emotionally unavailable white cis gay man who didn't give you the support you needed and put you in a box to make you smaller, palpable, telling you you were too much. We had our fun though and today we look back on those times together fondly, but it's not what we need now.

Young Taylor, I'm so sorry for hating you. I'm so sorry I thought we were broken and there was something wrong with us. We were playing by a rulebook and milestones that weren't for us and it took 2020 for us to see it. I'm so sorry for thinking you were unattractive, I look back at photos of you and think about how beautiful you were as a woman, but that beauty grew so much when you got into the right body. There wasn't anything wrong with you, you were never broken. You were hurt and you had to make do with what you had.

You weren't undatable and unloveable. You weren't made to be in a cishet relationship or fit the role of a southern girlfriend with pearls and ribbon in her hair. Your brother and sister married their first partners in their late twenties, but they knew their genders and sexuality. You didn't get to play in your field for a long time. I'm sorry, young Taylor, I'm sorry for thinking that we couldn't be loved.

You are so loved young Taylor. Your sister loves you, her husband loves you, your niece and nephew especially love you. He asked you if you could come over soon and your niece draws on her arms to mimic your tattoos. She's a wild one, be wary of her. She likes to climb kitchen counters at almost 3 to blow out the candle your sister has lit.

Jesse ended our friendship in 2016, Ian in 2021, you kicked Tyler to the curb just a few months later. Scarlett I think you cut out in 2019 and that was for the best, she was a real bitch and pick me girl. But just because Jesse and Ian left us, it wasn't because of anything we did and sure we have our faults, we're only human, but Jesse left because you stood your ground and didn't want to be ignored and lied to as he would look for hook ups whenever you hung out in public. Ian was a transphobic asshole whose Netflix password was 2020Trump2024, so really, losing him was the best thing that happened. He didn't even have the guts to tell you he didn't want to be friends after 13 years of friendship. He tried to ghost you until you asked his boyfriend what was up. Also fuck both Jeremies.

But you are so loved. You always were. And you are especially now. You have great people in your life now, those who love all of your being no matter how loud and how much space you take. No one is trying to make you anything other than who you want to be. They only want to see you happy and flourishing and be your authentic true self and for you to be you. Because that's all you ever had to be. You just have to be you. Because you are so worthy of love and life and happiness not because of what you accomplished, not what you know or who you know or what you could give to others. Because you're Taylor. And Taylor, you have always been worthy of love, of being loved, and loving in return.

So I end this letter to myself by saying we made it. Mom said we wouldn't make it past 25. We didn't think we would make it past 32. But here we are just a few months shy of 35 and we have made it. You are me now. We have food in the fridge that we love, we aren't living paycheck to paycheck, our bed is full of blankets and pillows and stuffies and no one to tell us that we have too many blankets and pillows and stuffies. We have bunnies who love us, yes, even Dusty loves us though he's kind of aloof. We have a face with a beard that we don't shy our eyes away in the mirror anymore. Our family has grown with aunts, uncles, cousins that you haven't talked to in a very long time and friends who love you unconditionally.

Young Taylor, I am so sorry we had to endure all of that. But we can rest now, we made it. We are here. You did it. I did it. I'm where I always wanted to be. And there's so much left for us to see and explore and experience and learn and grow and I'm so excited to do this with you in my past and so excited to see who we are in the future.

I love you. I love us. I love me.

[march-26]

Elizabeth.. I'm sorry that since your decision and even till now, I've harbored a lot of love and feelings for you. I know its made all of this so much more difficult between us and I couldn't be more sorry because I know how important it was for you to just keep the peace and be friends, and I promise you that even now I've been doing everything I could to be able to do that. I might not be perfect but I really do try for you, even for myself.

again as you slowly started getting further away from me, I couldnt help but just be stuck with everything, I was stuck with all these memories, feelings, plans, everything and I didn't know what to do with them, even towards the end of our relationship I held on to so much simply because I just wanted to have good moments with you because I knew my time was limited..you were dealing with court still and I didn't want to burden you, there were days where you were too tired or just waking up and didn't have the energy to talk, and before I knew it you'd go back to his place and yeah.. and I thought that there would be a time and a place for these things but those moments never came and more and more you kept slipping farther and farther away from me.. and now my time with you is sometimes only mere minutes and that will always be devastating to me only because you were always there Elizabeth.. every moment of everyday even when we started to become friends, we were inseparable..

and look, if it had been a year and I was still being this way then I understand why you would do what you felt like you needed to do.. but darling it has only been a couple of months.. and we didn't even break up either, I just didn't get picked.. which somehow that hurts even more.

I started to think about that hurt and pain and I'll admit I got a little upset, but I realized that I was falling into the very thing that I know fucked me over in the later parts of our relationship.

and you know I really was okay with everything, I was wanted to be patient with you through all of this because i knew exactly what you meant to me and not one oart of me wsnted to let go of that, me and you were still seeing eachother and growing in our own way, we still made time for little dates, you'd still call or text me whenever you were over there especially your late night calls.. I still remember you telling me you loved me and missed me and couldn't wait to be with me.. and I'd tease you and tell you to hurry back home.. I was content and very happy with you.. but it wasn't until everything with my family started happening that things took quite a turn for me..

because you don't know, or maybe you did know.. I spent those later days of our relationship feeling very bitter and angry at times and at the time I didn't know why, I didn't know why I couldn't just focus on us, why I couldn't focus on just being your boyfriend and proving to you in every which way that you should be with me..

and recently it occurred to me.. it was because of what I was doing for you.. what I was doing to myself.. and none of this is your fault Elizabeth, all of this falls on me because I was the one that chose this.. I was Hurting myself by being in this situation with you, by knowing that you were also having a life with someone else, but at the time I thought I was doing something important and big, I thought I was showing you my love and devotion for you, and my patience, I thought that this one thing is what separated me and him.. to know the truth,to know YOUR truth and nothing but that.. and again for a time i didnt mind it, but we stopped seeing eschother less and less and i felt you slipping away from me and it was during those moments that all these problems started to surface for me, even when things started to look up for me I had to hear from you how disconnected you felt about me because of our distance, but still I wanted preserve through that..

I wasn't able to focus, I was always on edge and paranoid, I was worried about the wrong things, I was worried about what yal were doing and building rather than what we were doing, and yes there was days where it was just us, and everything felt perfect but then I'd be constantly reminded that he was still there and at some point you'd have to go back to him and I couldnt stomach any of it.. I felt like so much of our time, my time, got robbed, I never got to plan dates with you or plan anything at all because he had you on the weekends, and because of the bullshit my family put me through my time with you in person was limited, and what frustrated me about that was even now my brother regretted doing what he did, he would tell my mom that he didn't know why he acted like that, that he felt responsible for me leaving home for good..and he'd be right.

but I went through it all anyways, why? ...because I loved you Elizabeth, more than anything in this world, i still do, I thought this path would've lead us together but it did the exact opposite and then again everything with my family started happening and all of that was fucking me up mentally and emotionally, my situation would bring me to tears because I felt so trapped yet so pulled apart in every direction and I felt like nobody understood or saw that.. and you wouldn't see me or plan anything with me on the weekends just to get them off my back and it didn't make me feel wanted, it didn't make me feel like a priority, I felt like I had no power or say in our relationship.. and slowly I started to lose you more and more.. truth be told you weren't the only one with this secret either, I held the weight of those secrets too my love, and I had to deal with the questioning of everyone as to why you didn't see me, every weekend I had to come up with some excuse and all of it was eating at me.

I tried staying strong tho, in certain moment I remembered what I was fighting for.. but I started to lose myself too. I just knew I wanted to be with you, more than anything.. so I kept fighting, I kept my love for you alive..

[hard-core-super-star]

good morning! I was so tired yesterday that I forgot most of what I wrote so it will be a surprise for me to read it all again 😶 ALSO, EXCUSE ME??? I wake up and see that you posted a fic, I was expecting something cute (it was cute) and I got punched in the middle of the face!! I love parker!reader because I wanted to be spider-man sooooo bad, but I'm halfway there because I'm miles morales coded, it's more than enough to make this girl here happy 🙏

not even with a second star...? Hjdkaajk I would like to know how I make this easy, would you tell me? 👀

to preserve myself I will neither confirm nor deny this. you have a point there, but by the way the carriage is going your star won't arrive anytime soon. I won't be waiting. oh that's good, because I don't like doing that either and it's not like I wasn't climbing the walls with that last fic you posted. since we're not talking about alpha!Kate, will there be more of this, like a part 2 or something like that? asking a friend-

c'mon, I'm trying but you're not helping at all! I could easily say aww and laugh at the same paragraph again because I definitely see an opening. why financial compensation?? I just laughed! OH- you're threatening me with the sad eyes emoji?? again!?!?!?

thanks. i am still learning. YOU- JDHKSAKAK It's always a phrase that matches the context, how is that possible 😭

yeah? why does portuguese scare you? 🤔 there's definitely a lot to add, but in a way you kind of left the idea complete??? she knows what that feeling is like and not wanting anyone else to go through the same thing and not wanting to drag people down with her is so- this makes me think that she hates being alone but thinks that maybe it's the best thing just so she doesn't bring someone into this mess that she is (I'm pretty sure I said exactly what you said). anyway she just needs a hug damn ☹️

– 🌟

good morning! i''ve been awake for a while but i have a feeling my responses will still be messy af 😶 at least i only have one class today and then i'm free to freak out over my assignments. i love being unpredictable like that :) but yeah, i tried to make it cute to counteract the sadness. i honestly feel that, i liked tobey's version of spiderman a lot but andrew's is...i honestly can't decide if i want to be him or with him [and i'm gay af lmao] miles morales coded, you say? interesting.

hmm, i might be convinced with a second star but idk. it kinda sounds like you'd be willing to bribe me 👀 i could tell you but then i'd have to delete my blog so, these thoughts will stay in my mind.

hmmm, i think that just proves my point further but sure. well, considering you were offering me another star to get me to admit you were right, i'm not too worried about my second star not arriving. good 'cause it's not like that's what i'm going to do later today. i'm so glad we're both on the same page about this 'cause it'd be awful if you kept doing it. i'm definitely not very excited that you're not asking about a part 2 to alpha!kate. and because you're not asking and i'm not excited i won't tell you that i really, really, want to do a part 2 but idk what i want the plot to be. i could just suck it up and do like...multiple fics in one, like a look-through of the relationship starting from when alpha!kate rescues R. but idk. i certainly wouldn't like to hear your thoughts on this.

how is it my fault that you're laughing at me??? you could just say aw and move on, you don't have to laugh 😑 you don't think that requires financial compensation? i'm out here being vulnerable and you're laughing. i'm one sentence away from spamming the sad eyes emoji.

like i said, you're doing great, i might have to pull out my handy emily dickinson poetry book and really test you. i honestly don't know how i do it either, i just associate a lot of words with things so when i see an opening i drop a reference.

i don't know, it just feels like a lot to tackle which is, again, ironic since you could argue all the other languages i've chosen are difficult af to learn. i think it just scrambles my brain when i hear it spoken out loud 'cause i can catch some words while others sound very different. my ideas are anything but complete lmao. that's exactly what i mean. although i do wonder how much of it is just me projecting lmao. it's just striking that someone so talkative and excitable has like...zero friends. that we see anyway. and considering how loyal she is, you'd imagine there'd be at least one reference to her friends. which definitely adds to why she instantly attaches herself to clint. like yes, she's trying to prove herself but also, she doesn't really have anyone else. i definitely agree that being alone is sort of a defense mechanism for her and that's probably why i love her sort-of friendship with yelena. they compliment each other in a way they both so desperately need, even if they won't admit it. hard agree with that last point, see all my headcanons about kate being touchstarved af.

[kays-kg-works]

Lmao cool arguments, thanks for taking zero accountability during like any of that for yes - going after individuals. The crusade bit? The definition of ‘crusade’ is ‘a vigorous campaign for political, social, or religious change.’

If I see people on here making direct accusations and getting called out about it, even if it’s against someone I don’t follow and have never directly interacted with before to my knowledge where the accused seems nice enough and is trying to provide proof of their innocence while you’re out here literally demanding further proof because you claim their initial one was insufficient for you to stop being a dick about it?

Yeah, I take issue with that.

Also, I don’t care if you’ve been ‘mostly inactive for over a year’ - if you have followers who are gonna see that and YOU are their acquaintance, friend, mutual, or fave and/or they don’t have critical thinking skills? Then yeah it is kinda your fault if one or more of those people wanders off and harasses that person based on your potentially flawed testimony.

Also, I never said I supported Madasama, anywhere in my reblog or mentioned them at all, even though I did see their reply to your post - I just said I didn’t support you going and accusing individuals without proof. Though it is funny to me that you used them as an example of ‘You think people who use AI have the decency to own up to what they’re doing???’ when Madasama... literally in that reply to your post openly said ‘Yeah I use AI for my work, what about it’.

Seeing everything in black and white kinda... sucks, historically speaking, and while you seem to think that it’s impossible, I’m here to tell you that... you can dislike something without taking it upon yourself to shame, call out, demonize, or otherwise rail against individuals that you see engaging in that behavior. Or in this case, people you think you see engaging in that behavior. You are not some divine authority on what human-driven art should look like and have already admitted that the tools you used later to try and prove that image was AI-generated aren’t always right so the fact remains that neither of us has true proof on our stances.

In my personal experience, it super duper sucks to be accused of what essentially amounts to art theft after putting time and effort into a piece - someone I considered my best friend at one time accused me of tracing a piece of their art when I did a sketch of their character for them because the nose looked too similar to the one they’d drawn, and on another sketch where I’d had a photo reference up to the side while drawing which is something I don’t usually do so surprise surprise - the image turned out looking different than my usual sketching style.

They only backed down after I literally laid the photo-referenced sketch over the original image to show them how off some of the proportions were in comparison - one eye right on but the other lower and slightly tilted, head shorter and a bit wider, etc. Initially, I brushed it off as “Oh, they’re just protective of their art and their reputation and it’s for their webcomic so they don’t want us to get in trouble and wanted to make sure I wasn’t up to no good :)” But the more I thought about it, the more it was like...

“Huh... this person really thought I would do that to them...”

Obviously the situation is different here in that you’re two strangers on the internet, but my point is that if you’re wrong?? You are directly harming someone who’s just taken a bunch of time and energy to make something and put it out into the universe only to be told essentially “Oh I know you didn’t make that because you aren’t that good and it looks too different from your normal stuff, why don’t you stay in your box if you don’t want people to think you’re a liar and a fake?” and no amount of apologizing afterwards if they DID provide you proof would put you back in their/my good graces.

For the sake of protecting my peace? I will no longer continue to interact with you, because you seem far more determined to maintain your stance on the issue that you are good and right and should definitely be doing this than I have the patience to dispute. I’ve got too many things to be doing with my time that are more important than sitting here arguing with you about whether it’s good to potentially bully someone off a platform in the name of ‘justice’.

And in case you take my future silence as proof that I’m wrong and you’re right like you tried to do with Skykashi?

Good job, you defeated me 🙄 Enjoy the view from your high horse, Grand Inquisitor

Logging in after a busy weekend irl, and seeing no further responses from @skykashi presumably they've blocked me after I asked to see the layers of the artwork. I was anticipating it, but it's really funny nonetheless.

The easiest and simplest way to disprove my theory would've been to post a screenshot of all the layers in the art file, or better, in a video like here, but instead they went off on a lengthy 30 min video about irrelevant topics.

At the end of the day, they know what they have done, and no amount of defensive posts or deflection will take away from the truth. AI art obtained by a few clicks of the mouse for social media validation may feel nice temporarily, but I hope one day they truly improve their skills to match those of the artist they entered as prompt on mid\journey or the likes.

Going forwards, they will either have to use AI for all their future arts to maintain style consistency (or rather, inconsistency, since they said in their explanation vid that their style actually varies dramatically as per their wishes, which is. Cool?)

Or, the more desirable, but less likely route - they'll revert to their original art style, in which case, AI won't be used, which was the original point of the conflict.

[thirstyforlulu]

Yandere Hellsing x Reader HCs? Including Millennium

Integra:

She’s a very possessive yandere

With her money and power, she has the means to get her hands on you

She’s good at playing cool, you won’t catch on for a while

Sure you notice that she never sends you on missions and that she’s always having you work near her office, but that’s just her being a good friend

When she decides to approach you romantically, she’s very forward

Around you she’s a touch starved animal, unlike her usual put together appearance

If you deny her feelings or try to run, get ready because she’s not giving up that easily

She’ll pull whatever strings she has to in order to find you

She’ll spend thousands bribing people or tracking you

Once she knows where you are, she’ll send Alucard to collect you

When she has you she’s very loving

She’ll want to constantly be touching you in some way

Usually that means sitting beside her while she works at her desk

As long as you’re good, she’ll let you wander the entirety of the manor

Since you tried to run she’s added all sorts of security measures so you can’t get out

Act up though and she will chain you to the wall in her office

“Y/N, your behavior has been deplorable lately and needs correcting.

Don’t give me those sad eyes, this is all your fault.”

Walter:

He’s a sneaky yandere

Very observant, he’ll learn your patterns and preferences

At the start he’ll leave you gifts like your favorite food or pretty flowers

He uses it as an excuse to get closer to you

He’s always offering to do favors for you, secretly lowering your defenses around him

He’s not the type to take anything from you but he will take the time to appreciate them

If you let him clean your room he’ll likely pause to sniff some clothes

You notice how much he knows about you but you just think he’s very observant

You don’t realize it’s due to his obsession

He’s the type to take more precautions

If you deny his advances he’ll lock you up somewhere, probably his room

He’ll get chains and a cage if necessary

If you really act up, he’ll lock you in the basement

The way you cling to him in fear after spending all night in the dark is addictive

His wires are always nearby

If you try to run you’ll only get a few steps out the door before the wires wrap you up and pull you back

He does his best not to hurt you, but if you struggle too much, a few cuts are inevitable

Seras:

She’s a very clingy yandere

She’ll want you on every mission she goes on

When you have free time she’ll take you out into the area nearby for some quality time

If you ever push her away, she gets angry

She’ll pout like a child then force her way into whatever it is you’re doing

At the time, she’ll act like it’s just a coincidence and you might even believe her

You’re not getting rid of her so easily

She’s also a very sweet yandere

If she feels she’s hurt your feelings she’ll go out of her way to get you presents or treat you nicely

Until you say you forgive her, she won’t stop pampering you

No one else is allowed near you, not even Integra

She’ll make excuses and do whatever it takes to keep you to herself

She would never kidnap you or lock you up because she hates to see you sad, but her “loving” behavior will be a trap in itself

Don’t forget that despite how cute she is, she’s still a powerful monster that can and will do what it takes to keep you

If that means making you one of her familiars then so be it

Alucard:

He’s a terrifying yandere

He can control you and the people around you, holding you captive

You’re not a stupid person, you know how easily he could end your life, so you tend to let it all happen

On the plus side, he’s very passionate and often brings you gifts

He’s such a smooth talker you’ll end up forgetting the terrifying threats he’s made in the past

Anyone who flirts with you will mysteriously disappear

Anyone who hurts you will turn up days later torn to shreds in a ditch

He would never do anything to hurt you, but that doesn’t stop him from making threats

“I could tear you apart just like that man from last week. I would love to hear your moans of anguish, but I’d prefer moans of pleasure.”

When you act out he manhandles you

He’ll press you against a wall and bite your neck to remind you of your place

He enjoys when you become complicit, but he likes when you’re occasionally act out

It gives him an excuse to punish you, which he always loves

After that, you’ll think twice before disobeying him

Millenium:

Jan:

Bro this man is already wild

When he sets his sights on you it’s go time

He won’t let anyone else near you or get to know you, not even his brother

He’ll threaten people, meeting them after work for overstepping their boundaries

He’s very touchy, like he’s trying to leave his scent all over you

Out in public, he’ll hang on you, showing others that you’re already taken

He’ll growl at people that look at you too long when passing by

He flicks a lot of people off, all the time but more so when he’s around you

He’s paranoid and doesn’t like anyone else around you, even friends

Clearly he’s a fan of body modification so if he can convince you he’ll want to get some kind of matching piercing/tattoo

If you get it, he’ll pay special attention to it any time you cuddle, running his fingers over it countless times

He can be very intense so he might yell at you, but when he sees the hurt look in your eyes he backs off

In his own weird way, he loves you and doesn’t want to see you hurting

But if he has to hurt you to keep you then so be it

Luke:

He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is

He tries to play it cool, but if someone tries to touch you he will blatantly smack their hand away

Always has an excuse to be around you and if he doesn’t, he’ll find one

He’s not as touchy as Jan, but he does like to hold your hand

You’ll feel his pinky brush against you before his hand completely envelops yours

His grip tightens when he sees you looking at others

Your attention is something he so desperately craves

He gives you every moment of his time and he wants you to do the same

If you’re ever in danger he’s there before anyone else even knows

It helps that he was already watching you

Be ready to compensate him

At first he’s just worried about you, but then once he knows you’re alright, he’ll start making demands

“You owe me for coming to your rescue dear. Or would you like me to toss you back? Maybe then you’ll beg me in such a cute way.”

Rip:

She does not care what other people think

She’ll ruin relationships to get closer to you

She’ll endanger her own job if it keeps you two apart

Doing favors is how she gets closer to you

Anytime you need something she’s there and ready to go

She’d leave in the middle of a mission if she hears you need help

Anyone causing you problems will be slaughtered and presented to you as a gift

“See y/n, I took off their heads just for you.”

She can get very aggressive especially if she thinks you’re denying her advances

She won’t hurt you, beyond a little pinch or so, but she’ll make threats

She’s very sadistic and would be willing to lock you up

Having you as a pet is actually an attractive idea to her

She’ll take good care of you wherever you’re locked up, but she won’t allow many freedoms

“Look at my pretty pet. How lucky am I.”

The Captain:

He’s like a pet, always following you around

He’ll growl at people he doesn’t like around you

His arms are always around you, keeping you close

No one else is allowed to tend to you after missions

When he’s patching you up, he’ll run his hands along your arms and legs, lovingly caressing your limbs

He’ll use that as an excuse to stay around you

Popping in to “check on you” at all hours

You won’t even know he’s come in until he’s sitting on the edge of your bed

He’s the type the would sit there for a moment watching you breathe

If he can, he’ll try to get you to be his assistant

If he can convince the higher ups that he needs one, he’ll do whatever he can

Then he’ll be around you even when he works and will be able to protect you

No one on the battlefield will be able to even get close to you

He’ll ignore his own tasks to protect you

He’s extremely loyal and obsessive

The Doctor

Oh man it is terrifying when he has his eye on someone

He views it like just another experiment, wanting to test and push you

He’ll have you coming to him for “examinations” all the time

He’d likely put a bug on you

Suddenly he knows things you don’t remember telling him, but you can’t prove anything

People you like start disappearing, people you had no idea he knew about

If he suspects you’re starting to catch on and trying to get away, he’ll start drugging you

Then you’ll have to come to him if you’re going to get better

While he’s treating you, he’ll trick you mentally manipulating you to grow closer to him

You’re going to think so highly of him, forgetting all the red flags you’d seen before

He is absolutely a gas lighter but he’s damn good at it

Even if you have experience with this stuff you won’t pick up on it

It’s a game of cat and mouse with him

The Major

He is not subtle and does not care

Your needs or emotions don’t matter to him

If you don’t respond well to his advances he will make terrible threats

If that doesn’t work he’ll take it a step further, allowing the ghouls to get close to taking a bite out of you

Torture is the next step

He doesn’t care about your mood, he has to have you

“Y/N, why do you fight so hard when you know I’m just going to hurt you again?”

He’ll want to do most of it by hand, but if he needs to he will get the others involved

“Would you like me to make a spectacle out of you? I think the others would enjoy that.”

Behave and he won’t hurt you

If he gets mad enough he’ll remove your arms and legs

You’ll become his good little doll, always on display for him

Like a bird in a cage, you’re his favorite display item

[strangerfigs]

Instances of Mike “reciprocating” Will

Reciprocate: respond to a gesture or action by making a corresponding one

*this is just from my own head so sry if i get some quotes wrong or what not

In 1x1, Will tells Mike, “it was a 7”, putting party needs above his own. Mike later tells Lucas “Will put the party’s needs before his own”, implying they need to do the same for him.

In season 1, Will doesn’t lie to Mike in episode 1, even though Lucas and Dustin tell him to lie, and Mike tells El “friends don’t lie” (reciprocating to Will not being able to lie to him in 1x1) (I’m also pretty sure Mike and Will never lie to each other, except for 4x8 when Will does lie to him)

“The Demogorgon it got me,” Will says to Mike once he revives. Mike then later responds with a D&D campaign where Will is the king (he is responding to Will’s way of dealing with his trauma through D&D) (in the comic, he says that he needs to make Will a hero, not a victim) In season 2, Will says everyone treats him like a baby, beside Mike. He only opens up to Mike. Mike was still being so responsive to Will and caring, but was extremely sensitive to his actual needs and how he’d like to be treated

In s3, there is an obvious lack. But - even Mike’s most likely PROJECTION literally is reciprocating to what Will feels, and WILL CONFIRMS IT

Mike: What did you think? That we would just sit around in my basement and play games for the rest of our lives?

Will: Yeah. I guess I did.

Like, Mike literally says/knows the exact thing Will wants? Why does he have this idea in his head in the first place? HM? And then, “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls,” LOLOLOLOL. It’s the same.

Also, I think another thing to note is that Will is fine without playing D&D ever again, imo, when he puts the D&D stuff away - he’s made rest with it, but then Mike SHOWS RECIPROCATION and is like, “that’s the donation box!” Proving that, yeah, he doesn’t want to stop playing D&D either. WTH are you doing Will???? And then he asks, what if you want to join another party? Which is again, just an interesting thing to ask, and Will says NOT POSSIBLE and Mike GRINS!

And… then in 4x1, Mike shows further reciprocation by being a part of Hellfire, and being annoyed of Lucas choosing Basketball over D&D, LOL, just like Will was with him last season ~ The reciprocation is immaculate. Like, all his attitudes towards D&D is proven to just be complete BS in season 3 with how season 4 starts…

And also how he says “We are not kids anymore” to Will, but then later, to El, says, “sorry I sound like a 7 year old.” Like again ~ feels like an obvious hint towards that whole fight with Will in 3x3 being a complete projection of HIS FEELINGS for WILL that are also CONFIRMED by WILL himself when he says, “yeah, I guess I did” Ugh. Dumb ass, Mike Wheeler.

Anyways onto season 4 ~

4x2 - mike being upset that will does not pay attention to him/barely talking to him, reciprocating will being upset about the same things ;_;

4x4 - mike says he feels like he lost will, reciprocating will’s feelings that he lost MIKE - in the script it’s literally confirmed that this whole CONVERSATION is mike being reciprocal to Will because of ‘yes! Yes makes total sense’ :)

4x5 - mike reciprocating to will’s feelings of it being hard to open up because what if they don’t like the truth? He NODS

4x8 - mike being reciprocal to what will is saying in his speech “about el” but rly he is most likely just projecting because he literally only said that he feels like he ‘lost will’ and was ‘worrying too much about el’ and literally says the same stuff to el, during his monologue, that will said to him in the van… like where was this coming from. Why didn’t you know how to explain it before/know what to say before will explained HIS feelings for you (behind el)

Anyways, Mike is always reciprocating to Will’s feelings, so … if we are following the pattern…

[ptergwen]

love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

-

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

-

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

[singswhendrunk]

@oflietoprotect 

{I felt groggy and sore as I remained still and unable to move in some bed. I could hear the faint sound of voices around me. Something about a lot of blood lost, a questionable yet optimistic outcome, me closely needing to be monitored over the next several hours, and then I heard Jay’s name being said. My eyes were so heavy that I couldn’t open them. I assumed it had something to do with the anesthesia still gradually leaving my body} Jay... {I managed to weakly whisper about, but honestly, given the affect the anesthesia was still having over me, for all I knew, nobody even heard me} “Jay is okay, Gia. Anxious to see you. I’ll get you set up in a room shortly, and then you can see Jay. For now, just rest, Gia. You’re in good hands.” {I heard a male voice say as their hand lowered onto my own as a sign of comfort and support. I was apparently satisfied with that response, because I didn’t feel the need, nor did I have the energy, to say anything in response. A few minutes later, I found myself drifting into an unconscious state... Hoping the next time I awaken, I will be able to see Jay. I had a feeling he was a mess right now; both with worry for me, but I’d guess guilt too. Not that any of this was his fault, because it wasn’t, but I’m sure he was still finding a way to beat himself up for it. Bottom line though, this was my choice. I am the one who saw a gun pointed at Jay, and I made the conscious decision to step in front of the bullet; preferring for it to hit me over Jay. Further proving that I would do absolutely anything for Jay. Truth be told, if I had it all to do over again, I will still make the same choice to protect Jay. All of that to say though, I just hoped none of this scared Jay away. I mean, it took him so long to finally ask me out on a date, and then before that could happen, I ended up here in the hospital. I didn’t want this to be one of those, one step forward, ten steps back, type of scenarios, because I wanted something with Jay. I had waited a long time for him to see me as more than his friend’s younger sister. We were finally making progress, and the last thing I wanted to do was for that to end. I guess time would tell on all of that. For now though, I just needed sleep... and apparently, lots of it}

Continued

@singswhendrunk

Let your guard down; for one night Jay wanted to escape the long cases he’s been working. The workload was heavy. He’d been in day and night attached to his desk working on each lead, working on signing off on each document we needed to more ahead. But tonight I was told to go home; to rest. And instead of being safely in my bed; I was here at the bar across town. Not because I needed a drink or perhaps two to get the edge off. But because I wanted to see Gia. I wanted to see her smile; hear her sense of humor. We helped each other, but it did develop into more. 

I had feelings and I made my shot; all jokes aside, I had found the balls to make my move; even going as far to stand up on a stage and sing with her. I was terrified but not as terrified when I heard those familiar shots; bullets flying. I wasn’t wearing a vest, I wasn’t wearing protective gear because why should I? I was off the clock, I assumed our case was closed. But Gia she got stuck in the crossfire because of me. Jay felt the guilt rolling off him; he knew she was hurt; the rapid way her breathing was coming, the lost of blood now pooling on the stage floor. 

I was scared for her. I felt at fault; if only I had gone home perhaps the suspect wouldn’t of tracked me down to the bar. Gia was fighting for her life because of me. I didn’t have time to think over the what ifs, or the guilt that was reeling off of me. My main concern was her; I had my hand pressed to her wound. Until the second Brett and Violet had arrived, the gurney in play; as they helped me lift her onto the gurney. Shaking palms bloody; not mine. I barely felt like I was able to walk on my own. Her calling my name before she went unconscious; that’s why I forced myself to be okay. In shock wobbly legs walked from the stage to the entrance doors.. Once a happy place full of music and now I felt like the laughs were wasted. I just wanted to make sure Gia fought this fight and woke up. But given her lack of blood; I had the gut wrecking feeling in the pit of my stomach. 

Upon reaching the ambulance; I knew Voight would have questions; ones I was prepared to answer at a later time. Hands shaking as I lowered myself down onto the spot besides the gurney where Brett had put an oxygen mask over her face to help with the shallowed breathing, she also was attempting to stop the bleeding, she had injected her to palm the brunette down a bit. Swallowing the lump that formed in my throat; the male had leaned closer, pressing a hand to her pale hand; thumb tugged under to fingers.  “ I’ll be here when you wake up okay.” A promise to myself and her. I just hoped Violet picked it up. 

Sirens rang through the streets; no one could blame Violet was rushing; eyes were glued to the stats on the machine; it wasn’t great, but her pulse was still running strong. A sign of relief as I heard Violet call back. “ Prepare to be ready, doctors are outside ready for us.” Ready for us; prepared; I hoped Will was on board; as the doors opened I had noticed Maggie, and the other members of the ED as they started to roll her inside. I stepped outside feeling the brush of the breeze hit my back; I stood there; releasing my hand from hers; she was rushed inside. 

What if I had spoken sooner? Or was it just the wrong place at the wrong time..

[nastybuckybarnes]

Deep End  -  Six

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 4.6K

A/n: Okie dokie! I’ve got an epilogue planned but I like this. The epilogue will explain shit better but I've known that this would be the end since pretty much the beginning LMAO

Deep End Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

When Steve hears you stop struggling, stop fighting and stop crying, he’s nervous.

It’s been a while since he locked you up there, and he really should check on you soon, if only to make sure the baby’s okay after that stunt you pulled.

He pushes the door to the bedroom open, eyeing your figure carefully.

You look like you’re asleep. If he wasn't so attuned to your body, your heart and your breathing, he wouldn’t have noticed something’s wrong.

Your heart is beating rapidly, far faster than normal. And it’s weaker than usual.

Your breathing is shallow and strained, and your face is lacking its usual healthy glow.

He rushes to your side, tearing the rope from your wrists and touching your face carefully.

Your skin is hot to the touch, and he feels fear settle in his gut.

He doesn’t know what to do, how to help. He’s never really had to help you like this, the doctor’s always been nearby.

He grabs his phone, calling the doctor and pacing nervously.

“Sh-she’s burning up and her breathing is shallow.”

Steve's stomach drops as he listens to the doctor’s instructions, answers his questions and comes to the realization of why you’re like this.

He rolls you onto your left side, tears welling up in his eyes at how unresponsive you are.

The doctor hangs up after telling the super soldier that he’ll be there soon.

His heart is in his throat as he tries to undo the damage of his punishment, putting the evidence back in the box and kicking the rope under the bed.

You’re still unresponsive, heart weak, but your breath sounds a little less strained.

Monster. That’s what you called him. What Natasha called him and what Bucky’s asset called him.

Maybe you’re right.

But he wants you. He needs you. Giving you up would be giving up a piece of his soul and he’s not ready to do that yet.

~*~

The doctor informs him that both you and the baby are okay, but being on your back for so long was compressing a major vein supplying your baby with oxygenated blood. If he’d gotten there any later it might’ve been too late.

With strict instructions to keep you on your left side and make sure you stay hydrated, the doctor takes his leave.

He stays by your side, holding your hand tightly in both of his as he really comes to terms with the fact that it was entirely his fault. He almost killed you and your baby to prove a stupid point. To discourage you from doing the very same thing.

His heart is heavy in his chest as he listens to your heartbeat get stronger, to the baby’s heartbeat continue fluttering like a hummingbird’s.

Those two sounds bring him peace, if only temporarily.

Shattering his peace is the sound of the front door opening, followed by tiny little footsteps clomping up the stairs.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Sarah.

Steve shoves himself to his feet and quickly leaves the room just as his daughter tries to enter.

“Sarah, mommy’s sleeping.” She frowns up at him and shakes her little blonde head.

“I need to talk to mommy!”

She walks around his legs only for him to scoop her up in his arms.

“She’s sleeping right now, honey.”

Sarah shakes her head angrily, beating her tiny fists against his shoulders.

“Let me go! I want mommy! Mommy!! Put me down!” She starts shrieking. Full-on screaming bloody murder right in his ear, and he loses his grip on the wriggling child.

She slides out of his arms and runs into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed and shaking your shoulder.

“Mommy?” She’s got little tears on her face, and they don’t cease when you don’t wake up.

“Why won’t mommy wake up?!” She looks up at Steve with terror written on her face and it shatters his heart in his chest.

“Sarah, mommy’s sick, okay? I had the doctor come over and he said that she needs to rest and when she wakes up we’re gonna need to make sure she’s got plenty of water, okay?”

Sarah’s big blue eyes are filled with tears and she shakes her head.

“I want mommy!”

She clings to your torso, crying against your shoulder in fear.

“Sarah, honey, mommy’s gonna be okay. You just gotta give her some space, okay? How about I set up a movie for you?” Sarah sniffles and slowly pulls away from you, looking at her father and shaking her head again.

“I want mommy! I hate you!”

Steve then realizes just how crucial you are. How important you are, not only to him but to his daughter as well.

Losing you would hurt so many people.

“Honey, you gotta give mommy and I some space, okay?”

He picks up the five-year-old, despite her quite literally kicking and screaming, and sets her down outside the bedroom.

He shuts the door quickly and locks it even faster.

Sarah stands outside, wailing her head off and pounding on the door with her tiny little fists.

She cries for you, over and over again, and it breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s brought back to what you said about him. About how this isn’t love.

He sits down at your side again, trying desperately to drown out the sound of his daughter crying outside as his thoughts overwhelm him.

He hasn’t been the nicest to you, that he’ll openly admit, and he makes mistakes probably more often than he doesn’t. But he loves you. He needs you.

Tears well up in his eyes and he lets out a shuddering breath.

He’ll make this right. He has to. Sarah deserves a mother, so does your unborn baby. And -though he may not deserve you- he needs you. The monster will be hard to fight, but losing you will be harder.

The damage he’s done might be irreversible, but he’s gonna do what he can to make things right, to give you a better life.

You don’t wake up for a few hours, but when you do you’re confused.

Your back aches and you feel a little dizzy as you remember what happened, how you got here.

Steve watches as you regain consciousness, confusion pulling your brows together before you slowly open your eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.

You look up at him then drop your gaze to your belly, bringing your free hand down to rub it gently.

“Am I... are we okay?” He nods gently, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I was... I don’t know, trying to teach you a lesson. And all that did was hurt you. Hurt the baby. I wanted to show you that trying to hurt yourself and hurt the baby wouldn’t fly, but I ended up doing far more damage.”

You swallow hard and struggle to push yourself into a seated position, wincing at the throb in your head.

“The doctor said that you shouldn’t move too much, and try to stay on your left side when you sleep. I-I didn't know that sleeping on your back was bad.”

You take a deep breath and look up at him, waiting for the anger to take hold in his eyes but it never does.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. For scaring you and not trusting you. I... I lost you for so many years and now I have you back and... I don’t wanna lose you again. But everything I do to try and keep you close, make you mine... all it does is push you further away and I’m sorry.”

His apology takes you by surprise, and you eye him skeptically.

How are you supposed to know if he’s telling the truth?

He drags one of his hands down his face and for a moment you can truly see just how old Steve Rogers is.

The exhaustion of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders finally shows in the lines near his eyes, the bags beneath them. But what really displays his age is his eyes. They’re so full of trauma and pain and weariness.

For the first time since waking up from the ice, Steve Rogers looks his age.

“I-I’m sorry, too,” you whisper, surprising him.

“I didn’t... I wasn’t thinking. I just... I wanted to punish you for what happened to Natasha. What you did. I wanted you to hurt but I just ended up hurting myself in the process.” You look down at your hands, trying to figure out how you want to phrase what you have to say.

“People argue, Steve. But what you do... it’s beyond that. We’re not... there are so many things wrong with what’s happening between us, what’s happened already, but I can’t leave. Sarah’s too attached and all I want for my little girl is to have a happy life. To have the happiness that was torn from me.”

Guilt settles on his chest, but he lets you continue speaking.

“I want my daughter to have a good life. I don’t want her to be afraid of-of people. The way I am. She loves you, and I know... I think you love her. You haven’t hurt her yet, and I hope it stays that way because at the rate we’re going, I'm not sure how much longer I’ll be able to do this.”

The pure fatigue on your face is more than enough explanation, but the idea of losing you is too much for him to bear.

“No, don’t say that. I’m gonna get better, okay? We-we were happy once. And we can do it again. I’ll be gentle and patient. I just... I need you, (Y/n). I need you a lot and the fact that you have such a tight hold over my every thought makes me angry. But I’m not gonna take it out on you anymore, okay?”

You let out a deep breath and eye him carefully.

“You’ve said that before.”

He thinks back to the time you spent in that cabin in the woods, where you turned his friends against him.

He has said that before, and look at where he is now.

“This time it’ll be different.”

You don’t have the energy to fight him. So if he’s gonna try, fine.

“Where’s Sarah?” You ask, hoping she’s still safely out with Morgan.

Steve’s face falls again and he stands up and opens the door to your bedroom.

Sarah sits crumpled in a ball, her cheeks covered in tears.

“Mommy!” She all but screams the word, launching to her feet.

Steve tries to take her hand but she yanks it away from him, shooting him a glare then running to the bed and climbing up beside you.

Your heart breaks when you see how sad she looks, and you hug her to your chest.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay.” She sniffles and climbs onto your lap, climbing to you like her life depends on it.

You wonder what happened while you were unconscious, what Steve did to upset her so much, and your mind immediately goes to the worst.

You look at the man, your thoughts written plainly across your face, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No. I just told her she couldn’t come in. Not ‘till you woke up. She uh... she stayed right outside the door.”

You soothe your daughter, rocking her as much as you can manage with the pain rolling down your spine.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You hold her close to you, trying to calm her down while Steve looks on helplessly.

Although his daughter loves him, loves being here with him, nothing can compare to the bond that the two of you have.

The monster in him hates it. Hates that he’s not as close to his own daughter, blames you for it. But he pushes that part of himself down.

He made a promise. And this time he’s not gonna break it.

~

"Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He asks for the thousandth time.

You only shrug, fixing your hair in the mirror as the doorbell rings.

“It’s a little too late now, Steve. Besides, I don’t really care. Sarah’s gonna have fun and that’s all that matters.”

Your daughter took a few days to warm up to Steve again, but now that she has he’s not gonna risk anything changing that.

He takes one last look at you, at how pretty you look in your blue sundress, then leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“I love you, (Y/n). I can send them away.”

You take a deep breath and shake your head.

“Sarah’s excited. Besides, I wanna know what we’re having.”

You plaster on a forced smile and it breaks his heart, but he turns and heads downstairs to greet the guests.

Ever since you got hurt, he’s been nicer. Far gentler than he's ever been with you, and you’re not complaining.

Steve has the potential to be a good person, that much is obvious, but he chooses not to.

He hasn’t hurt you again, or even yelled at you. No, he’s been patient and understanding and it’s such a sharp contrast from who he was before.

You can hear him greeting the guests warmly, chatting on and on about this and that and whatever else.

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you leave the faux safety of the bedroom and head down the stairs, smiling at your guests.

People that you’ve never seen before are in your house. Well, that’s not true. You’ve seen them on TV.

The Avengers are in your living room and kitchen, talking softly amongst themselves.

In the presence of these superheroes, you feel small. Weak. And you can’t fight the urge to find Steve as anxiety crawls up your spine.

He’s in the kitchen, talking animatedly with Tony Stark and Sam Wilson. Iron Man and Falcon.

He looks so at ease, his face split open with a laidback grin.

Sam’s eyes find yours and he says something to Steve, making the blond turn to you with a soft smile.

He waves you over and you obey, one hand resting delicately on your bump.

“Sam, Tony, this is my (Y/n). (Y/n), Sam and Tony.” You nod politely at them, sliding your clammy hand into Steve's nervously.

You haven’t been around this many people in a very long time.

“It’s nice to finally meet the woman who’s got Captain America so hooked! All he does is talk about you,” Sam says, a grin on his face.

You smile at him, looking up at Steve.

He nods encouragingly, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles to try and ease your anxiety.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I, uh, I’ve heard a lot about you. About both of you.” Tony smiles looking down as someone tugs on his pant leg.

“Can I have a sleepover at Sarah’s house?!” Morgan asks excitedly, her little face full of glee.

“You’re gonna need to go ask your mother. You know she makes all the decisions.”

Tony’s gaze lifts to yours when his daughter runs to find her mom.

“Is it alright if she sleeps over tonight?”

Steve nods then looks at you.

“You alright with that?”

You’re not sure if it’s a real choice or a test, but you don’t want to find out.

“Of course. She’s always welcome here.”

Tony nods with a smile, then resumes whatever conversation they were having before you showed up.

You tune out what they’re saying, carefully rubbing over your stomach and poking at your baby whenever they decide to kick you.

“(Y/n)? Did you wanna help me set the food up outside?” Pepper’s voice breaks you from your trance, her hand coming to rest softly on your shoulder.

You look up at Steve, silently asking for permission, but he just leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips and lets go of your hand.

You follow Pepper, setting up the table in the backyard silently for a while before she clears her throat.

“How are you feeling, (Y/n)? Sarah told us you were sick.”

You swallow hard and give her a tight smile.

“I’m feeling better. Tired all the time but this little devil is to blame for that.” You poke your belly only to be met with another kick.

Pepper nods, smiling at you.

“Are you excited?”

That question throws you for a loop.

Are you? Are you excited to have another baby?

You’re excited for Sarah to have a sibling. Excited to get to hold your baby and love your baby. But the reason why you’re having the baby in the first place? The father of your baby? No.

“Yeah, I am. A little nervous, too.”

She sits down by your garden, patting the seat next to her.

“You look tired, (Y/n). More tired than a mother should be. You’re wearing yourself thin.” You keep your lips sealed, not wanting to say anything that might make Steve mad.

She sighs and sets a gentle hand on your knee.

“I don’t know what your... relationship is with Steve, but I know you’re unhappy. He’s a good guy, deep down. But you need to take care of yourself, okay? Don’t work yourself to the breaking point because it’ll be even harder to build yourself back up. Especially with a brand new baby.”

You let out a shuddering breath and nod.

“It’s just hard. I’m trying but... it’s hard.”

As you talk softly with Pepper, Steve observes the two of you.

You look so sad, so defeated. He hates that he made you look like that.

“She’s unhappy, Steve.”

He turns to the voice, eyebrows raising.

“Wanda. I didn’t know if you’d make it.” He pulls her into a hug. “I heard about what happened in Westview... Wanda, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She sighs, pulling away with a sad smile.

“No. But I will be.” Her eyes travel back over to you for a moment, feeling the pain and the sorrow in your soul.

“Do you think she’ll ever be happy here? With me?” Wanda sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes, feeling your thoughts, your energy.

“It’s hard to tell. Right now she’s so... numb. Nothing but sadness and... hopelessness. Her spirit is crushed, Steve.” She reopens her eyes and turns to the blond.

“You can’t keep her here like this. It’s only a matter of time before she gets fed up and tries to do something drastic. Again.”

Steve knows. He fucking knows that. But he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do to lift your spirits.

He's given you more freedom, let you make more decisions for yourself. He’s been gentler with you, hasn't forced himself on you.

Not forcing himself on you isn’t something to gloat about, but given the history between the two of you, it’s something fairly major.

He just wants to keep you in his life. He needs to keep you in his life.

He turns to the young woman beside him, a thought bubbling into his mind.

“Could you... do something to make her happy? Make her enjoy her life here? Make her love me again?”

Wanda’s mouth curves down as she looks at you, watches you play with your daughter and Morgan.

“Steve, it’s not right.”

The blond lets out a pained breath, shaking his head desperately.

“I just want happiness, Wanda. Don’t I deserve it? Haven’t I suffered enough to deserve a happy ending?”

Wanda’s eyes glow red with sorrow as she’s reminded of her own happy ending that she had to give up.

She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, dropping her gaze for a moment before looking over at his desperate blue eyes.

“We don’t always get what we deserve. It’s hard and it hurts, but we can't control everything. And at some point, we need to let go. No matter how hard it is or how much it hurts. We can’t hurt other people because of what we think we deserve.”

They both look back over to you, your own eyes already on the pair, but dropping as soon as you see them turn to you.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do that.”

Tears stab at his eyes and he huffs out a breath through his nose, turning on his heel and walking away from the party, from his friends.

His abrupt departure catches the attention of a few people, yourself included. Before you can get up and see what’s going on, Bucky’s on his feet and heading into the house.

The woman Steve was talking to makes her way over to you, smiling gently.

“Hi (Y/n). I’m Wanda.” You smile at her, eyes darting towards where Steve disappeared from then back to her.

Bucky re-emerges only a few moments later, shaking his head at Natasha when she gives him a quizzical look.

You turn to Wanda with a strained smile.

“Could you just watch Sarah for a minute? And make sure she has something to eat? The foods ready.” She nods, watching with sad eyes as you walk back into the house to see what’s wrong with Steve.

“Steve?” You call softly, looking around for him only to find him sitting on the couch in the living room, his face in his hands.

“Why can’t I have what I want?” His question catches you off guard and you move to stand in front of him.

He shakes his head sadly, pulling his hands off of his face to grab yours, holding them tightly.

His lips brush over your knuckles gently, before he presses the back of your hands against his forehead, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“This isn’t right.”

Your heart races in your chest, stomach tying in knots as you try to figure out what he’s talking about.

“What are you talking about? Is everything okay? Did... did I do something wrong?” Maybe you shouldn’t have talked to Pepper earlier. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and smiled.

“I can’t keep you here.”

One sentence. Five words. Sixteen letters.

That’s all it takes to have your heart stuttering.

“What... what do you mean you can’t keep me here?” You try your hardest not to let your hopes get too high. Maybe he’s going to kill you. Maybe that’s what it is. It’s certainly something more up his alley than... the alternative.

He slowly raises his head, teary red eyes staring up into yours. 

“You know what I mean.”

You shake your head, needing to hear him say it himself.

“What are you saying, Steve?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and closes his eyes, the words hurting him but he needs to say them.

“You're free to go. You and Sarah.”

The breath gets knocked from your lungs, eyes wide as tears start to blossom. This is a trap. A test. It has to be. There’s no way...

“You’re letting us go?” You ask softly.

He sighs again, nodding as tears find their way down his cheeks.

“Yeah... I guess I am.”

You’re silent, staring at him and waiting for him to tell you it’s a joke, to punish you. But he doesn’t. No, instead he lets go of one of your hands and stands up, his chest almost brushing yours.

“You said I don’t love you... but I do. I love you. Or maybe I love the idea of you, I don’t know. But either way... I hate how sad you are. How sad and afraid I make you. You're free to go wherever you want.”

You’re practically hyperventilating.

After all this time, you never truly thought he’d ever let you go. That he’d have even a shred of decency left inside him.

He cups your hands together and carefully places something inside them, then turns and walks to the front door, grabbing his keys and leaving the house.

You stand silently, staring at the object in your hands until standing becomes too hard and you think you may throw up.

Then you sit down, silent tears trekking down your cheeks.

“(Y/n)?” You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on the couch, staring at your hands, but Natasha’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“(Y/n), are you okay? Where’s Steve?”

You stare up at her then look back down at the tiny, life-changing object in your hands.

“He let us go,” you whisper, your glossy eyes raising to hers again.

She looks half as shocked as you feel.

“What?”

You sniffle then wipe the tears off of your cheeks.

“He’s letting us go,” you repeat, pushing yourself to your feet and holding your bump.

“Really?” You nod, eyes finding the backyard through the kitchen window.

Sarah and Morgan are playing outside with Sam and Wanda.

“What are you gonna do?”

Your heart is so full of confusion, full of pain and hurt.

“I’m gonna go cut the cake, then have a talk with Sarah.” She nods, a small smile on her face.

She heads back outside and you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down before you go out and face Steve’s friends.

You toy with the dainty thing he dropped in your hands before nodding to yourself.

This is what’s right. It’s the right choice for both of you.

You entertain his guests for a few more hours, not wanting to clue them into anything in case they disagree with your decision, with Steve’s.

Only after the presents are given and the cake is almost completely devoured do they finally start to leave.

Wanda helps you tidy up the backyard, writing her phone number down with a soft smile and a whispered ‘if you ever need a friend’.

Everyone bids you goodbye until only Bucky and Nat are left, the metal-armed soldier staring intently at your left hand before a smile spreads across his face.

He surprises you, pulling you into a gentle hug and nodding his head.

“Congratulations, (Y/n).” You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but for some reason, you don’t think it has anything to do with the baby shower.

They leave too, and then you’re virtually alone, Sarah and Morgan asleep upstairs.

After cleaning up every last inch of the house, you head upstairs to go to sleep.

Steve isn’t home until after midnight, long after he lets his tears run dry and his heart stop shattering. It just aches now. Hurts.

He let you go. He really did it.

Deep down he knew this would be the outcome. Either this or your death, but he never wanted to accept it. Refused to admit it to himself.

But seeing Wanda... after all that she’s been through... and she’s still standing strong.

He takes his shoes off and drops his keys on the kitchen counter, freezing in his tracks when he sees the covered plate of cake with his name written on it.

The batter is blue.

A boy.

He’s gonna have a son.

A son that he’ll never get to meet. He’s given you freedom, and he doubts you’ll let him be a part of your child’s life after all that he’s put you through.

He slowly makes his way upstairs, his heart hurting when he sees no sign of your things in the pristine house.

When he pushes open the bedroom door he freezes in his tracks.

There you are, sleeping in his bed. No bags are packed, nothing is out of place, and the dainty diamond ring sits on your finger.

You’ve made your choice, he realizes, his heart jumping for joy in his chest.

He sheds his clothes then climbs into bed with you, wrapping you up in his arms and sighing heavily.

Maybe Wanda was wrong.

Maybe he’ll get his happy ending after all.

[memes-saved-me]

Billy Hargrove and implied Queerness

First off this is focusing on his scenes without Steve because we've all seen those and....they're pretty homoerotic to say the least so I will be bringing your attention to the other factors which lead people to believe Billy is gay or interested in men and not so much women. This isn't very indepth but more surface level observations I've made and seen others make.

(TW: Homophobia and slurs discussed)

Season 2

The first scene we get of Billy he is instantly sexualised by those around him. Tina and Vicki taking interest in him based on his looks while Carol watches on rather unamused. This sets a trend for his character and his relationship with his looks and body, but more importantly how he uses it to his own advantage. Of course this was done to play into the 80s bad boy who all the high school girls fall for but what I'll explain later makes it much more interesting.

The next we see of Billy is with Max on their way home. During this scene he insults the looks of the high school girls, referring to them as cows. We then get a very interesting line "Yeah, we're stuck here and who's fault is that?" Which Max replies to with "Yours."

A response that instantly angers Billy to the point he demands she take responsibility for moving to Hawkins. A topic that has clearly been discussed before because Max's reaction implies this has happened before if not multiple times.

In Runaway Max, which isn't confirmed canon and contradicts a lot of stuff but, we are told that the reason they moved was because Billy was completely off the rails to the point he broke her friends arm. Now. Does that make sense in blaming who's fault the move was? If this is the case it is obviously Billy's fault so why does he keep saying it was her who caused this? She clearly liked being in California so why would she do something to make them move. Unless it was unintentional...

This heavily implies that there is an unspoken incident which involves them both. An incident which triggers such anger and recklessness in Billy to the point he almost runs over Mike, Lucas and Dustin because Max wouldn't say it was her fault. Many have then filled in this gap with Max accidentally telling either Neil or Susan about Billy and another boy, which would make sense with the information or lack of information we are given in canon about the reason they moved.

While at Tina's Halloween party we do not see Billy interact with a single girl. He is seen with Tommy and another boy who then approach Steve with him. It would make sense for girls to be drooling over him in this moment, trying to dance with him or following him inside but no. He makes a beeline for Steve and we do not see him for the rest of the party.

Now, I don't know about you but have you ever seen a teenage boy look less interested in his date? Not only is he not interacting with verbally but also physically. He then gets angry when she calls Max his sister and they drive off without a word. It's implied he is taking her home as he they were waiting for Max, meaning he was probably going to hook up with her but if he was wouldn't he act just a little nicer towards her?

I mentioned before that he is the archetype for 80s bad boy and the girls sure are falling, he just isn't catching them. This is the only time we see him interact with a women his age in a romantic way. If you could call this romantic at all.

When in trouble for letting Max run off while watching her, his response is that he doesn't have the time to go looking for her because he has a date, a date we never see or get the name of, this prompts his father to say the line "So that's why you've been staring at yourself in the mirror like some faggot..."

A line that then prompts Billy to snap and argue back after clearly wanting to get out of this situation as fast and smoothly as possible. Where else have we seen anger brought on by a topic? That's right in the car with Max. There is a trend of Billy reacting with anger to conversations or comments he finds personal or as some sort of attack. This is also when Neil becomes fully angry with Billy as seen in his rather shocked reaction at his response to that line.

This also continues the trend of Billy caring about his looks and using them as a shield of sorts, a shield that doesn't work against his father but everyone else he encounters.

Something to keep in mind, Billy is the only character to be called a homophobic slur by a parental figure other than Will. The character he mirrors in multiple ways including having the same full name William, as well as Will being heavily implied as gay or queer. Both of their father's use homophobic language against them, unlike any of the other characters in the show.

The next we see of him after the incident with Neil is also when we see him interacting with another women in a romantic sense. Karen. This is where his use of his looks and body fully come into play. He uses these assets to get information and affection out of Karen to make his father happy and avoid further punishment.

Now this is my own interpretation but Billy is used to using his body for positive attention and doesn't get that any other way. At no point in the series is he treated like a person other than in S3 by Max and Max only. Everyone else views him in an objectified manner or as a bad guy to avoid.

There is a clear resemblance between Karen and Billy's mother which I'll further discuss in the season 3 section but this leads me to believe he is subconsciously or even consciously wanting positive attention from a motherly figure, he just doesn't know any other way to achieve that.

However, it is very clear that flirting with Karen was an act as seen by the quite jarring juxtaposition of these two frames. The mask fully gone once by himself again. Meaning the only time we see him flirt with a women it isn't genuine at all.

Season 3

Now, continuing off the last point, there is countless girls practically drooling over Billy at the pool but he only accepts this attention from Karen. This exemplifies my theory that he doesn't know how to gain positive affection other than through flirting and well sex, but he only wants this attention from an older women who resembles his mother. Except, again he doesn't know any other way of gaining it. He hasn't had a strong positive female influence in his life since he was 10 years old and by the looks of it every motherly figure has treated him as eye candy and not a teenager crying for help.

He has Heather who is very much his age and flirts with him. Yet, he acts as if she isn't even there and goes straight over to Karen to flirt. The way he acts with Karen should be the way he would act with girls his age, flirting and making advances but we do not see a single example of this.

This part I find extremely interesting because it perfectly mirrors his interaction with Karen in season 2, except instead of dropping the mask he puts it on. The way he looks to his right as if she is sitting there as he practices what he is going to say to her is a clear example of his act coming into play as he prepares to meet up with her. His expression very similar to when he leaves the Wheeler home but it shifts to practice the way he is planning on talking to Karen. A complete reversal from their scene in season 2.

A rather reaching piece of symbolism could be that this also mirrors the way Neil cuts off Billy's date in season 2 as the Mindflayer is a literal representation of him being controlled by his father.

I also find it very interesting that he chooses to flirt with Karen very publicly and this might be reading a little too into it but it comes off as trying to uphold some sort of image. Another example of this is Max saying she hears Billy with girls in his room, something that sure is something he would do but when you put this with everything in this post it also comes off as him trying to prove something.

Another thing I find interesting is the way he acts around Karen, all smiles and friendly is very similar to that of the way he acts at dinner with Heather's parents. An act put on by the Mindflayer, just as he does when flirting with Karen. A mask used for underlying means and not what it shows on the surface.

Conclusion

This is all just my observation and he is not canonically gay or queer but the way he acts around women compared to Steve is a very interesting aspect to his character. If they truly intended for him to be this bad boy ladies man then they failed at presenting that.

One final thing, which I have posted about before is the fact Billy does not use homophobic language towards anyone. Even Steve does in season 1 so it would make sense for a teenage boy trying to upstage another teenage boy to use slurs and such to belittle and bully him. Except he doesn't.

I could write a full dissertation on Billy's implied queerness but a unorganised Tumblr post will have to do. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[mc-lukanette]

Now that Wishmaker is out, how would you rewrite that chaos? The Lukanette need is strong.

"Did anyone else see me?" Marinette asked, her hands shaking as she put on the mask she'd made with her newly-given knitting powers. They were sitting down in a shadowed alley, free from anyone's curious eyes.

"No," Viperion replied, his voice breathless from the revelations he was having rather than the fly to their hiding spot. "Just...just me." He glanced down at his wrist, noting the unticked snake bangle. "...I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Marinette's gaze darted over to him, then to his miraculous. A flicker of understanding passed over her expression as she whispered a small, "Oh."

Guilt tore up his stomach, even knowing deep down that it wasn't his fault - the akuma had surprised them, giving no time for him to use his power - but he'd been brought in to use Second Chance in the first place, and yet...

Marinette's hand fell upon his wrist, making him look up. She smiled at him, her eyes reassuring.

"It's okay," she said, though her voice wavered. "It was only you who saw my face, and even if you'd used Second Chance, you'd still know anyway."

He could tell that she was still processing, but let the subject go for now and smiled back. There were more important matters to attend to.

They must've been on the same wavelength too, as Marinette pulled away and sighed, thinking aloud, "I have to figure a way to be Ladybug again. The akuma could just be destroyed, but I need Miraculous Ladybug to turn everyone back to normal."

Viperion nodded, briefly giving her a once-over. Her power and wings were useful, but unfortunately didn't help them with the current situation.

It was also distractingly cute, and he couldn't fight that way.

"Wishmaker said that he wanted people to live out their childhood dream," he murmured in thought.

Marinette brought a hand to her face, pinching her cheek in contemplation. "Maybe...maybe if I live it out then, I'll change back?" She considered it a moment longer, then groaned and stood up, starting to pace around the small area they were in. "But we don't have that kind of time! Yeah, my earrings aren't here so Shadow Moth can't make a wish, and I could definitely make enough of a living with my new knitting powers, but that would take years, and—"

Suddenly, she stopped and looked over at him, catching Viperion briefly off-guard since he hadn't said anything. Her eyes scanned him up and down, mental gears turning in her head even if he couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"...That's it!" she gasped, hurrying over to him. She knelt down, clasping his hand in both of hers as she rambled, "Maybe I just need to live out my dream to the fullest!"

He blinked in confusion, unsure of where she was going with this.

"Part of my dream was to eventually make a wedding dress and tuxedo for me and my future husband!" she exclaimed. "If I do that, I might turn back into Ladybug!"

"Ah—" He shut his mouth before anything else could come out. He couldn't deny that it was a solid plan, but he wanted to tread carefully given his feelings, not wanting to make her feel awkward. "That's a great idea." He tried to grin reassuringly, though it came off a little crooked. "Should I go find Adrien?"

"What?" She shook her head. "No, it has to be you!"

He gaped, his heart doing confused flips in his chest. "Why?"

"The guy I always dreamed of marrying when I was little," she began, eyes practically sparkling, "he was exactly like you!"

— — — — —

Marinette hadn't exactly caught onto what she'd said until it already left her mouth, but the way Viperion's face turned red had definitely given it away. Things had gone quiet after the fact, with him sitting a couple meters away while she knitted away at the tuxedo; the tuxedo for him.

She found herself blushing faintly at the thought and immediately forced it down, reminding herself that she didn't love Luka, but Adrien. They were made for each other, like everyone said, and she—

She closed her eyes and took in a steady breath, knowing that she was getting off track. Things were complicated enough with all her thoughts and fears about the future, especially now that Viperion knew her identity.

Though, strangely enough, she didn't feel as nervous about it as she thought she would've.

Her gaze darted over to Viperion, who was keeping lookout and patiently waiting for her to finish with her knitting. He thankfully didn't seem closed off from her at all, and it just served as a reminder as to how mature he was.

Without thinking, she found herself speaking up. "M...my parents..."

He looked over at her, his senses still apparently tuned for her despite his keeping watch. She averted her gaze to the knitting needles working their literal magic into the tuxedo.

"We saw a lot of movies where the girl gets the prince in the end, so they made sure to teach me that love wasn't about money or power or fame or anything like that." She bit her bottom lip, Adrien briefly flashing to mind. "So, I imagined me as the knitting fairy, and I'd make clothes for the whole world until I found him." She peeked up at him. "Someone who wouldn't laugh when I fell on my face. Someone who'd be there for me and think of me first. Someone who wouldn't scold me for everything I did or make me feel bad for it. Someone who'd see more than just clumsy, nervous Marinette."

As much as it hurt to admit, the description didn't fit Adrien. Unless they found each other by coincidence - something that actually happened today, oddly enough - he didn't go out of his way to spend time with her; it was her putting in the effort.

"And..." She trailed off momentarily, lost in her thoughts. "after we fell in love, I'd give up my powers and live happily ever after with him, because we didn't need powers to be happy and it wasn't my powers he fell in love with in the first place."

She'd finished the tuxedo at that point, courtesy of her knitting powers, but her hands dropped to her lap afterward, not making any further movements as her thoughts took over.

Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Viperion take a quick look outside the alley, then get up to move over to her. He sat next to her, picking up one of her hands and letting it rest in his palm.

"I think your dream is really beautiful," he told her gently.

She scoffed, blushing in embarrassment at what must've been fake praise. "Chat made fun of me wanting to be the knitting fairy."

"He was wrong," he retorted immediately. "Your dream might not be realistic, but that doesn't make it any less nice, and there's nothing wrong with dreaming of the perfect guy."

She met his gaze, the softness in them having not lessened even since their break-up, and found the strength to start working on the dress. Being with Luka - dating or otherwise - had always been so easy, excluding all the factors outside of just them being them. She could vaguely imagine her younger self clinging to Luka, claiming him as hers and insisting that he marry her when they grew up.

But things weren't that easy. Nothing was. Marinette had spent her whole life fighting for what she wanted, needing to prove herself to people in order to be accepted.

Fighting for years to smile against Chloe's bullying, because no one would do anything about it. Fighting to be acknowledged by her parents as someone who could do things and didn't need their protection. Fighting against herself to be the one who didn't make all the mistakes or have to be the one to apologize in the end.

After becoming Ladybug, her future became even cloudier and the fighting continued. Waking up in the morning was even harder thanks to late-night patrols, getting through tests seemed impossible due to having less time for studying, and even maintaining a romantic relationship carried the struggle of not being able to tell them her identity.

Marinette stared at the shimmering pink and white fabric beneath her fingertips, it shaping and forming to her will. The occasional sparkle or flash from a beam of sunlight that happened to shine through reminded her of the day at the TV station, where Luka had confessed and she could see only him for just a moment.

"I'm sorry."

Viperion hummed in confusion, raising a brow at her.

"I made everything complicated for you—us," she explained. "All the time, ever since we met. I even got you akumatized, twice."

"Twi—" He blinked rapidly, then leaned closer. His hand came in contact with her cheek as he directed her gaze back to him. "You mean Silencer? How was that your fault?"

"I challenged Bob Roth, and when he grabbed me, you got upset. It pushed you over to the edge."

"You were defending me and my music," he argued, a sternness in his tone that wasn't there before as he put his hand to his chest, "and my emotions are my own. I'm the one who gave into Hawk Moth, not you."

"But..." She sighed, conflicted. "Even later, I kept my identity from you when we were dating. I made us both miserable because of it. I was so upset that I ended up yelling at my friends and they all got akumatized, and then I went and gave my identity to Alya anyway."

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, though he quickly schooled his expression for reasons she didn't know. His gaze strayed momentarily before he looked back at her, asking, "Would you be upset at me for feeling happy for a moment, knowing that you were just as miserable as I was?"

"W-what?" She shook her head; if anything, knowing that he'd also been miserable made her happy as well, probably in the same way as it was for him. It meant that they both cared about it. "No! Not at all!"

"Then I don't blame you for your emotions either."

She pouted at him, but he merely smiled in response. She knew this wasn't a matter he was going to budge on, but it was difficult for her to understand when she was so commonly blamed for things. That was Luka though, she supposed, always forgiving and able to see through her faults.

She remembered her dream husband again and tried to act like her full focus was on the dress so as to not give her thoughts away. She'd only drawn the unnamed man once or twice, and it was just occurring to her that he had black hair and blue eyes as well. Having not understood the concept of kids looking like their parents in their own way at the time, the child version of her had thought it'd be "fair," because then their children would look like both of them no matter what. It was strange, just how much the "simple" version of her love ideals lined up with the boy sitting in front of her now, even with his temporarily green eyes.

Friendship had become something very precious to her ever since the day she'd gotten her miraculous, maybe even more than love itself. Despite the complications and their brief time dating, she was friends with Luka above all else. No matter what happened in regards to the romantic aspects of their relationship, their friendship remained unchanged, like they really would be friends even if they had the worst break-up in the history of Paris. It was comfortable, to the point where she felt embarrassed for ever avoiding him in the first place.

She was reminded yet again of another stark contrast with Adrien. She hadn't been scared of starting anything with Luka, yet Adrien was a constant cloud of dread above her head, the fear of being rejected or being made fun of holding her back from doing what she wanted.

If her child self could see her now, she'd be confused. Marinette could hear her now, asking why her love - or at least, what she believed to be love - caused her so much stress. That was never what she'd wanted; in fact, it had been the exact opposite. Crushing on Adrien had done nothing but humiliate her, the little girl inside her covering her eyes from the sight. Her time with Luka, on the other hand...

"It looks beautiful."

Marinette jerked her head up to see Viperion's approving gaze, then looked down to the wedding dress in her lap. It was finished, pink with flashes of white and blacks; exactly the kind of dress she would've wanted when she was younger, though obviously with an older touch.

"Thank you," she hurried to say when she realized that she hadn't responded to him. He chuckled in reply, though it was good-natured.

He reached for the tuxedo she'd set aside, but stopped halfway as if realizing something. He looked to her, then the dress, then back to her, asking carefully, "Do you want me to keep watch while we put these on?"

It took her a moment to realize what he meant; that he - wearing a bodysuit - could easily slip on the clothes over it, but she didn't have that sort of luxury due to her dress. She managed to summon enough of her inner Ladybug to focus on the importance of the task over the potential embarrassment, giving him an appreciative nod.

She trusted him not to look.

As she went to the darkest parts of the alley to change, Viperion heading in the opposite direction, her mind drifted back to the past again. The little journey there, even if it'd been unwilling on her part courtesy of the akuma, had been a nice change from constantly worrying over her future. As important as it was to focus on what she wanted to do and plan accordingly, the past was equally as important. It shaped her into who she was now and offered insight on herself that she couldn't have gotten otherwise.

"...Lu—I mean, Viperion?" she called just as she finished putting on the wedding dress.

"Yeah?"

She turned to face him, then giggled when noticing that he still had his back turned to her. "You can look now."

He hesitated, then slowly shifted to face her. He was mostly dressed, but was in the process of buttoning up the tuxedo, his hands fumbling with one of the buttons as he took her in.

She approached, gently brushing his hands aside as she started taking care of the few remaining buttons. Not wanting to delay talking to him like before, she figured now was the best time as any to say what was on her mind.

"I still don't know what I want for my future. I feel like a lot of doors are opening and closing every day, and whenever I want to try one, there just ends up being more doors, or it's already closed when I get there. There are too many possibilities and I keep being afraid that I'll trip on the one I really want to go to." Her gaze left the button she was holding so she could meet his eyes. "I just know that I really want you to be there for all of it... i-if that's what you want." Wanting to make sure instead of presuming like she tended to do, she asked cautiously, "Do you?"

His face didn't show a visible reaction, but she heard the slight sound of him swallowing, synced up with a single blink. Afterward, he absolutely beamed at her, the smile more blinding than the light being cast against his back.

"I do," he replied,

In time with his words, the final button was slipped into place. Marinette felt a warm sensation run through her body, starting from her feet and then making her shudder as it moved its way up to her head. Her body was turning white, just as before when Wishmaker first shot her, though Viperion's tuxedo had joined as well.

There was a flash between them, and she found herself back as normal, wingless Marinette when it faded.

Viperion, now lacking what she'd made for him, still looked just as happy to see her.

"I-I did it!" she gasped, genuinely surprised that it worked. "We did it!"

She threw her hands up in the air in celebration, but snapped back to reality as she remembered that she still needed to turn back into Ladybug and take care of Wishmaker. She opened her purse, easing as she saw Tikki already munching away on a macaron.

"Marinette?"

She looked back up at Viperion, noticing that he still had something to say. "Yes?"

"I might not be able to make enough sense of your inner music to tell you what you'll want, but I don't think you have anything to worry about. I know that whatever you decide to do is going to be as extraordinary as you are."

She stifled a squeak, blushing at the sudden compliment and thankful that Tikki was still chewing the last bits of the macaron. "A-ah, thank you. You too—with the extraordinary thing, not your inner music, because I can't hear that even though I'm sure it's really amazing!"

Had it been anyone else, she might've prayed for a hole to swallow her, but it was impossible to feel weird when he smiled at her the way he did.

Once Tikki had gotten her fill, Marinette transformed and they began to leave the alley together, though Ladybug stopped partway as she remembered something; something she'd done many times before and felt it time to get back to doing.

Viperion raised a brow at her sudden stopping, then stiffened when she leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. She flashed him a smile, noting silently that she missed these little exchanges between them, then leaped away to head back to where Wishmaker was likely to be. Viperion followed suit, but a split second behind his usual speed.

She was sure he'd be smiling back if she looked, but she didn't have to; they were connected, maybe not by some sort of magic thread or cosmic force, but by them and the relationship she hoped that they would continue to build in the future.

And whenever they got back to the fight, just in time to see Chat Noir allow himself to be hit by Wishmaker's attack, a few more doors would close and her future would start to look a little different than what she'd considered that morning.

Not necessarily in a bad way either.