#and she almost teared up and said 'thank you for respecting my fibers' which i didnt expect it to mean that much to her

[youcanthandelthetruth]

LOOT from fiber festival

And my first try at spinning!

[azaleavi]

Pretty boy

Summary: You don't like James Barnes. Of course not when he has a different girl with him every time. And no, you are not jealous... right?

Word count: 3.8k i went OUT with this one

Warnings: language, a man being a creep, then getting beaten up, kissing, very slight alcohol consumption

Author's note: This gave me the idea. It turned out to be pretty long. Sorry. I hope you like it! This is 40s!Bucky btw.

Feedback is always appreciated and don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

Part 2

James Barnes was a menace. An annoying little shit, who thought he could do anything and have anyone just because he was handsome. Not like you found him attractive or anything, but all the girls of New York seemed to drop their panties at the sight of him. One pet name and they were ready to kiss the ground he walked on. You couldn’t understand. How did these girls not see what kind of person he was? Multiple times you saw girls leave his apartment in the morning looking all sad. At first you felt bad for them, but after a while as they kept coming back you just couldn’t bring yourself to pity them.

Being a close friend of Steve meant you got to see a lot of James too. They were kind of a package deal, to which - by the way - you did not sign up for. Steve was the sweetest person you’ve ever met, maybe too righteous sometimes and he definitely did not know how to walk away from a fight, but he was a good man inside and out. James on the other hand was not like him. He wasn’t a bad man per se, but he was just too much of a player for you. He knew he was handsome and he used it to get girls all the time. Or dames as he called them. You hated that word by every fiber of your being. It reduced a woman to a simple object in your opinion and it basically said that she was only a pretty thing and nothing else. You did not want to be a pretty thing, you wanted more out of your life. Marrying some stuck up man and bearing his children was not something you dreamed of, no matter how many times people told you that it was what you had to do. No. You wanted a life that didn’t revolve around men. A life that you could choose for yourself. But it wasn’t that easy. Everyone expected you to do what they did. It didn’t even occur to them that you wanted something else.

Your mom had been telling you that you should marry James as he was such a nice young man. You just rolled your eyes every time she brought it up. She didn’t understand. How could she when she was so in love with your father after they met a few times that they got married just after a couple of months of knowing each other. Their love was something so extraordinary that you knew it wouldn’t happen to you. Especially not with James. He wasn't thinking about marriage and even if he did he wouldn't want you as a wife. Not like you wanted to marry him or anyone else for that matter, but that didn't mean that it didn't sting a little that he went after every girl he saw, but never thought of you the same way. He never even tried and it beat down your confidence a little. When you first met James you found him intriguing, your young self even had a crush on him for a while. But it didn't take long for you to get to know the real him and the disappointment made you force that crush down. You only laughed at yourself now, finding it hilarious that you once wanted to kiss him and love him. Of course, you didn't feel that way about him anymore. That would be stupid of you. Of course..

-

Having a night out with Steve was a wonderful idea. That is until James showed up, making you narrow your eyes at your friend. You clearly remembered him telling you that James had other plans and it would be just the two of you, but of course he had to mess up your plans.

You went to a bigger pub in the city, having been there before and liking it. James dragged Steve away as soon as you entered, talking about some girl he wanted to introduce him to, so you just went to the bar to ask for some alcohol. God knows you needed it if James was around.

All of the sudden two hands grabbed your waist and turned you around. Before you could realize what was happening a pair of lips were on yours, kissing with so much passion you almost moaned into it. Noses bumping against each other your hand gripped his hair. Your mind cleared as you realized that a stranger was kissing you without your permission and you pushed him away by his chest, hand already raised to slap him. Your whole body froze as you came face to face with a familiar man. James.

"What the fuck is your problem?" you hissed, your palm almost connecting with his cheek, but being stopped by his hand on your wrist. He pulled you close again by his hold on your arm.

"There is a girl I need to get rid of. Just play along" he mumbled, his breath hitting your lips as he leaned in for another kiss. You almost got lost in him again, but you were more aware and not caught by surprise this time so you managed to pull your head away from him.

"I will do no such thing" you narrowed your eyes at him. "Let go of me" you were getting angrier by the second. Who did he think he was?

"What if I don't want to?" Okay that's it. You ripped yourself from his arms.

“Listen here, pretty boy” you pointed your finger at him in your anger, not registering the smug expression that worked its way onto his face. “You can’t just do whatever you want because you are a-“

“You think I’m pretty?” he interrupted your angry rambling and grabbed your finger to pull you closer by it. In your surprise you stumbled forward, your hands finding place on his chest, your nose a few inches from his.

“James” you called out his name in warning. If he didn’t let go of you right now you wouldn’t be responsible for what you did to him.

“Come on, doll. I told you to call me Bucky multiple times” he smirked down at you.

“And I told you that we are not friends therefore I don’t have to call you your stupid nickname” you yanked your hand out of his grip, stepping back. “And stop calling me doll. I’m not one of your girls”

“Ouch doll, that hurts my feelings” he rubbed his chest where his heart was.

“Oh, I didn’t know you knew what those were” you frowned at him, not amused by his teasing. He opened his mouth in mocking shock.

"Don't be so mean to me. A lady like you should always be polite." he teased, knowing well that you hated being called a lady and being told what you should and should not do.

"Good thing I'm not a lady then" you grimaced at him, cocking your head to the side.

"Well, with the way you've been talking to me, I guess you aren't" he stepped back into your personal space. "And if you are not a lady then you should have no problem playing along with me."

"I'm might not be a lady, but I'm definitely not one of your dames either" you pushed him by his shoulders to finally have enough space between you.

"Are you jealous, doll?" a smug smile played on his lips.

"Oh very." your sarcasm was clear as day. "It would be an honor to lie in your bed then leave in the morning, only to never hear from you again." you turned back to the bar, your drink already in front of you. Lifting the glass you nodded at the bartender who gave you a small smile. You drowned it in one shot, the alcohol giving your throat a familiar burn as it went down. "Is there anything else you need?" you turned back to him. He didn't say anything as he kept staring at you. "No? Then you can leave me alone" you shooed him away by your hands, already done with his shenanigans.

"Don't drink too much because of me" he called after you as he walked backwards, that stupid smile not leaving his lips. Rolling your eyes you turned back to the bar, leaning on it with your elbows, a sigh leaving your lips.

How could he just kiss you like that? You thought he at least had some respect for you, bit it seemed like he didn't. He was James Barnes for god's sake. Of course he didn't. You didn't know what you were thinking. He wasn't different from any man. A part of you believed that he might have been but he just proved it that he wasn't. Your mother would loose her mind if she knew what her 'nice young man' did to you just now.

You shook your head to get the thoughts out of it and signaled for the bartender to give you another shot. You drowned that one too as someone sat down next to you. You were ready to tell him to fuck off, thinking it was James again, but as you turned your head it was a man your age. You lifted your eyebrows, not being in the mood to deal with another self-centered man.

"What is a pretty dame like you doing here alone?" he tried to flirt, but he already lost you at the word he called you.

"I'm not here alone. And it's none of your business" you showed him a mocking smile and stood up ready to leave, your night already ruined. A hand locking around your wrist made you stop.

"Come on. I just want to make you have a good time" he smirked, but it left his lips as soon as you ripped your arm out of his hold.

"I don't care about your good time" you rubbed your wrist, his grip leaving the skin red.

"Okay. I tried being nice, but you clearly don't care for it. Maybe you like men when they are being a little more forceful? You like 'em rough?" he pulled you to his body by your waist, your hands flying to his chest trying to push him away. Why is this happening to you now?

"Let go of me" you squirmed in his hold, disgusted by him. Unfortunately he was stronger than you and didn't loosen his arms around you no matter how hard you hit his chest.

"You like this don't ya?" his breath hit your cheek as you tried to get as far away as you could.

"No, I don't. Stop" you were getting desperate, looking around for anyone to help you. There were a lot of people around, but none of them seemed to care. Tears gathered in your eyes.

Suddenly the man was pulled backwards by his collar, a fist meeting his cheek a second later, making you gasp. He fell down on the ground, but your savior didn't let him get away that easily as he hit him a few more times. You quickly stepped closer and that's when you saw his face. It was James. Your shock quickly dissipated as he lifted his arm again to hit the other man. You hands grabbed his forearm and you tried to pull him away, making him look at you.

"Stop it, James. He is already on the ground" you pleaded. A relieved sigh left your lips as he stepped away, his arm going around your waist to lead you away from the crowd that formed around you.

"Are you okay?" he stopped you in front of the building, the cold night air picking at your skin.

"Yes, I'm fine." you rubbed your arms, stopping your movements as he grabbed your arm that had the red bruise on it.

"Did he do that to you?" he almost growled, head turning to look inside the place.

"Yes, but it's fine. It doesn't hurt that much" you put your hand on his arm, trying to calm him down. Why did he care anyway?

The door opened and Steve walked out, a worried look on his face. you immediately pulled your hand away from James, stepping back.

"I heard what happened. Are you okay?" his eyes traveled over your whole body, trying to see if you were hurt.

"I'm fine, Steve." you forced a smile in his direction. In truth you weren't completely fine, but the boys didn't need to know that.

"I'll walk her home" James spoke up from next to you, making you look at him in surprise.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking home myself, thank you" you replied to him.

"I know that, but both of us would be more relaxed if someone was with you. And Steve was talking to a pretty woman before I left" he sent a knowing smile to the man. You looked at him, only to see him looking down at his feet, a blush on his cheek confirming James' words.

"Steve! What are you doing out here then?" you almost shouted at him. "Go back inside right now. I'll be fine." you waved him off.

"I'll go check on you tomorrow, okay?" he was already inching backwards toward the door.

"Yes, okay, just go" you laughed, happy for him. He walked back inside, leaving the two of you alone. "So you don't have to walk me home, just stay outside for a little while so Steve doesn't get suspicious." you forced another smile on your face.

"I will not let you walk around alone this late at night." he grabbed your arm that wasn't bruised and started pulling you towards your home.

"I've done it multiple times before" you argued, but walked alongside with him, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

For the duration of the walk neither of you spoke a word, but it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. The silence between you was nice, letting you look around as he still held your arm, neither of you wanting to let go. He made you feel safe as you walked along the dim streets, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Thanks for walking me home" you reached your house, stopping in front of the door as you turned to him.

"Isn't there something else you should thank me for too?" he smirked, stepping closer.

"Well I was about to say it, but now I'm not going to" you put your hands behind you, leaning on the door.

"It's not only with words that you can thank me" he leaned closer, his face a few inches from yours for the second time that night. There it is.

"You know, I was thinking that you are not so bad while we were walking home, but you just reminded me why I don't like you" you smiled at him.

"And why is that?" he tilted his head to the side.

"You just can't keep it in your pants." you shook your head.

"Actually I wanted to apologize about earlier." he got serious, stepping backwards to put some distance between you.

"Earlier?" you asked back, confused as to what he was referring to.

"The kiss" he mumbled, looking down, almost as if he was nervous. But James Barnes does not get nervous.

"Oh." it was all you could say, surprise taking over your brain.

"So I'm sorry" he kept looking down.

"Uhm... it's okay, I guess?" you didn't know what to say to that, thoughts running through your mind a thousand miles an hour.

"I'm just gonna go now." he pointed behind him awkwardly. As he turned away you couldn't help yourself and you called after him, the alcohol in your system giving you courage.

"You are really not that bad, James." he turned back, surprise written all over his face, but he quickly covered it up by a smirk.

"Is that a compliment I hear?" you rolled your eyes at him. There was the James you knew.

"And it might be the last if you keep this up" you let out a smile. "But seriously, we could be friends if you didn't do what you do." you shrugged nonchalantly.

"What am I doing?" he asked, confused.

"You know, every time I see you, you have a different girl on your arm" you couldn't look into his eyes, a little embarrassed.

"You avoid me because of that?" his eyes widened.

"Yes. What did you think the reason was?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"I don't know. I just thought you do it because you don't like me, not because you are jealous" he let out a laugh.

"I am not jealous, James. Get that out of your head." you looked away as a blush crept up your cheeks.

"Oh god you are blushing" he continued to laugh, the redness of your cheek only deepening. "I can't believe you like me" he mused.

"Okay, that is enough out of you. I'm going inside" you turned and reached for the handle as he grabbed you to turn you back around, your back hitting the wood of the door, his left arm on the door next to your face, his right circled around your waist. You let out a gasp at how close his face was.

"You didn't deny it" he whispered, his warm breath hitting your lips. Your mouth opened, realizing your mistake.

"I-" you wanted to defend yourself, but nothing came to mind. His right hand touched your face, palm flat against your cheek. You couldn't help but lean into his touch, closing your eyes for a second. Your eyes snapped open when you realized what you were doing and pushed his hand away. "I'm not one of your dames, James" you looked into his eyes. You couldn't let him treat you like any other girl. You refused to be another one night stand for him. A stable relationship you could work with, but being someone he called when he was bored was not something you wanted or could handle.

"No, you are not." he agreed.

"Then don't treat me like them" you pushed yourself more into the door. You were afraid. Not of him, he would never hurt you. Not physically at least. But you were afraid of what would happen. Will he leave you saying that he won't give up that lifestyle for you? Or will he stay with you?

"Never" he shook his head.

"I don't want to be one of many" you continued, trying to get him to understand.

"You know why I was always with a different girl?" he pulled away slightly.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to forget about you. I thought you didn't like me because you were always so distant. So I just wanted to find someone else, but none of them compared to you." he brushed his thumb along your lower lip. Your eyes met his as he lifted your head by your chin. "None of them were you" his nose bumped against yours. "I like you. I did from the first time we met" he finally confessed, your heart skipping a beat at his words.

"James" his name left your lips in a sigh. "Kiss me" he didn't need more as his lips latched onto yours, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. His tongue swiped across your lip asking for entrance and as you opened your mouth, his body pushed you against the door, trapping you. It was a trap you never wanted to escape. His hands held your head, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as you arms were around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Your heart beat rapidly as his hands traveled down your body, stopping at your waist.

A few moments later he had to pull away as both of you needed air, but de didn't go far, only enough for you to catch your breath. His forehead leaning against yours, noses touching, the two of you giggled into each others mouths.

"Wow" he mumbled as he left short pecks on your lips, unable to keep himself away from you. It was your first real kiss and he was already addicted.

"Stop it" you giggled and let him press one long peck on you before pushing him away. "I don't want you to get bored of that" you teased.

"I could never" he pressed another kiss on your mouth, making you laugh.

"Okay, I understand" you could barely talk as he still had his mouth on yours. He pulled you closer and rested his head on your shoulder.

"You are amazing" he murmured into the fabric of your clothes.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, James" you were glad he couldn't see your face as it was coated in a red blush.

"I'm just saying the truth" he pressed his lips to your cheek.

"I probably should get inside, before we wake up my parents." you sucked in your lips try to hide your smile.

"Maybe" he agreed, but made no move to let you go.

"You have to let me go for that to happen" you pulled away as much as you could.

"Then you shouldn't go" he teased, still holding you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, or today I should say" you reassured him and he let go at that. You straightened your clothes as he watched you. Looking up at him the softness in his eyes almost made you say 'fuck it' and spend the rest of the night with him, but you held yourself back. He turned and walked down the stairs, but suddenly ran buck up to you to press one more long kiss on your soft lips. You couldn't help, but let a smile break out on your lips as he pulled away to look into your eyes once more.

He was already out on the street when you remembered something.

"Hey, pretty boy!" you called after him once more, making him turn around with a big smile on his face from the nickname. "Good night" you bit your lip, trying to hide your own smile, but failing miserably.

"Good night to you too, doll" he playfully bowed down a little, making you let out a laugh.

If someone saw you that night, under the moonlight, they would have seen two people completely in love with one another, laughing, being happy that they finally found their missing piece that was in front of them the whole time. Eyes shining like the stars above them as they watched each other, only the moon being witness of their intimate moment.

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[uwuwriting]

Boyfriend w/ Megumi, Itadori and Gojo

Request: hii I just read your jujutsu nightmares piece and oh my god I am indeed a very simple simp and your writing just makes my heart go uwu so may I maybe req a very soft, fluffy s/o for Megumi, Itadori Sato and maybe Sukuna if you write for him? I hope it's not too much, thank uu <3 - anonymous

I can’t get enough of the JJK content, I love them so much my heart can’t take it. Sadly I don’t write for Sukuna *I think I mention it in my rules but I’m not sure*, he pissed me off big time in the manga so yeah sorry about that. Really all the curses have kinda pissed me off but that’s a story for another day lmao. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: boyfriend things lol, fluff, maybe some angst sprinkled on top but not a lot. 

Fushiguro Megumi 

-Megumi reminds me of Suna from Haikyuu. 

-Like a lot. 

-He will put effort in the relationship of course but he won’t flaunt it around in everybody’s faces. 

-Yes he has a s/o and yes he is in love but in his book that should be mostly kept in between you two, no one else has to know. 

-So at first your relationship isn’t really acknowledged by the others. 

-It’s so subtle at casual that everyone around you thinks that you’re merely best friends and close to each other. 

-Only Makki knows that you two are a thing since she sees how you worry and take care of him after he has been injured. 

-It’s different from platonic concern and she knows what’s going on. 

-Plus she saw you steal a kiss one time and that sealed the deal. 

-Eventually the others figure it out and they are losing their shit, for completely different reasons though. 

-Nobara can’t believe Megumi got a s/o before she did. 

-Gojo is hurt because neither of you said anything and he has been trying to hook you up for the past two years now. 

-Itadori is just confused because he thought that you were like that to everyone. 

-Now PDA is non-existent with this one. 

-He doesn’t feel comfortable touching you in public even if it’s a small peck. 

-He prefers showing his love behind closed doors or through acts of service. 

-So expect to find multiple bentos waiting for you in the kitchen each morning or a hot bath on the ready when you come back from a long mission. 

-You are okay with the no PDA rule, your only request is that he at least hold your pinkie when you need it. 

-It grounds you and who is he to say no to that?

-During missions he doesn’t underestimate your strength and let’s you do your thing. 

-He only interferes when you ask for help or when he notices that you’re extremely overwhelmed. 

-He doesn’t smother you and you are eternally grateful for that. 

-Training sessions between the both of you are brutal. 

-Neither holds back and you're left a panting, sweating mess at the end, crawling to your respective rooms to change before you settle for a movie later that afternoon.

-If either of you gets injured it’s mama bear time. 

-You need to change your bandages? Megumi has already taken out the kit and all the essentials. 

-He needs to take some meds to calm the pain in his ribcage? You have the pills in hand. 

-He is a shy boy so even in private he hesitates to touch you. 

-Don’t get him wrong he loves holding you and feeling you close to him but he is also afraid he will make you uncomfortable or overstep. 

-So you will be the one initiating cuddle session during the first months of your relationship. 

-After a while he will simply pick you up and carry you to his bed for cuddles if he needs them without uttering a word the whole time. 

-Good morning/Goodnight kisses are a must. 

-It’s a ground rule that he follows religiously since day one. 

-It doesn’t matter if it’s a simple peck on his lips or a passionate kiss, he just wants to get a kiss before starting/ending the day. 

-Sleeps on his stomach with an arm always draped over your waist. 

-Isn’t really into the whole sleeping on each other thing but he won’t say no to being the big spoon or even better the little spoon. 

-He gets flustered when you kiss his knuckles or trace patterns on his palms. 

-He knows his hands are rough from all the training but after your touch they feel tender and gentle. 

-Prefers indoor dates rather than outdoor ones. 

-His favorite  is cooking dinner together and then cuddling on the couch *in hopes you won’t get interrupted by Gojo*.

-The only thing he dislikes about the whole relationship thing is the teasing he receives from Gojo. 

-He is ready to rip his ears off. 

-Boy has murder on his mind 24/7 and it is all directed to his mentor.

-Gojo noticed that Megumi had you as his wallpaper ONCE and now it’s game over for your boyfriend. 

-The thing is that you don’t get teased as much and he is *salty*. 

Itadori Yuuji

-He is such a lovable boy, how could you NOT fall in love with him?

-Your relationship is naturally effortless. 

-Everything flows so naturally and without even trying you two have formed such an unbreakable bond that not even Sukuna himself can tether even if he tried. 

-Many MANY spontaneous trips to the nearest convenience store at 3 am.

-Oh you are craving some popcorn? Well go on, get your shoes, we are going grocery shopping. 

-Won’t hesitate to do anything for you and when I say anything I mean it. 

-He ditched Gojo once because you had bad period pains and said you needed cuddles. 

-What cruel creature would he be if he denied his beautiful girlfriend her cuddles??? 

-Sukuna has cockblocked you two and has ruined your cuddles on multiple occasions. 

-From weird noises to rude comments to interrupting Yuuji’s thoughts with random shit. 

-Real party crasher. 

-Yuuji’s love language is touch mainly so expect a shit load of hugs and kisses. 

-Won’t let go of your hand while you are out in public. 

-If he can’t hold your hand he will place his palm in the small of your back or wrap his arm around your shoulders/waist. 

-It’s a physical need. 

-He has to be touching you at all times because that reminds him that you are truly here beside him and that you are okay. 

-The sorcerer's life has already taken a toll on his mentality and he hates leaving you alone so most of the time you go on conjoined missions. 

-Unlike Megumi he tries to protect you during fights by all means. 

-He doesn’t do it because he sees you as weak and in need of protection it’s just an instinct that he can’t control at all. 

-He will put himself in immense danger, taking all the blows just so you can leave the scene unscathed. 

-You have scolded him on his complete disregard of his own life and the tears that pooled in his eyes as he explained that his body moves on its own when he sees anything darting towards you, breaks your heart. 

-If you kiss the little marks under his eyes all his worries fly out the nearest window. 

-He forgets about everything around him, about the looming threat of his imminent execution, the only thing on his mind are your lips on his cheekbones and your thumbs rubbing circles on his cheeks. 

-If you pepper him in too many kisses he will begin his own assault by first tackling you to the floor or the bed and capturing you in a hug before the smooches begin. 

-He has a tendency to leave hickies on your neck which you struggle to cover each morning and you are always real close to glaring at him when he beams like the sun itself at you in the morning but your mild anger fades the moment his lips meet yours. 

-You have your suspicions that he knows what he is doing with that, he knows his kisses make you weak so he uses them to his advantage. 

-Will never admit it but it always places a small smirk on his lips every time you clutch his shirt for balance or rest your forehead on his shoulder to regain your composure. 

-An I love you a day is required for good vibes. 

-Won’t hesitate to shout it even in front of others, he just has no filter and no shame. 

-Makes you turn tomato red and he snickers. 

-Fuck him, literally. 

Gojo Satoru

-This fucking tease. 

-He has no chill!!!!!!

-How are you with him?!?!?!?!!

-My man fine af and he drinks his respect for y/n and y/n alone juice every morning. 

-That doesn’t mean though he won’t try to fluster you throughout the day. 

-It’s his main goal really. 

-Full blown make out sessions in the hallways of the school, ass smacks in front of others and trying to leave hickies on your neck during your lunch break. 

-It simultaneously pisses you off and turns you on so you can’t decide if you should smack him or jump his bones. 

-It’s a never ending debate and his chances of getting the quawk quawk 5000 are 50/50. 

-He respects your boundaries when you give him a sign that you really don’t want him to be like that on certain days. 

-He is a very observant individual in general so it’s not hard for him to take note of the signs of pure discomfort or awkwardness. 

-True he loves flustering you but the moment things get out of hand and you don’t feel okay with how he is acting, he is throwing his attitude out the window and becomes respectful Gojo in a flash. 

-Likes having his arm draped over your shoulder. 

-He is super tall so chances are he towers over you. 

-He has used you like an armrest several times which resulted to a trip to Shoko for a dislocated wrist/shoulder. 

-You make him bentos almost everyday and he waits for them like a lost puppy. 

-No matter the time, he doesn’t care if he is late, he will wait for you to make him a little bento to take with him. 

-Curses can wait, he needs to receive his first dose of y/n love of the day. 

-Brags to his student about you and to Nanami, much to the blonde’s dismay. 

-Talks everyone’s ear off. 

-He becomes super protective when an elder shows up or at the mere mention of them. 

-He will grasp your hand, keeping a firm grip as those pretentious fucks stare down at you. 

-They really don’t care about Sato’s happiness and they will never show you a fiber of respect despite being chosen by the strongest sorcerer. 

-You are not part of one of the three clans so you are worth nothing in their eyes. 

-Gojo hates them for that. 

-Deep rooted hatred that could turn into a mass murder if one of them call you a distraction or a slut one more time. 

-You are really grateful for him in those moments. 

-You are grateful in general but during those times when you are being bombared left and right with rude comments, he will remind everyone in the room that he doesn’t give a flying fuck about what they believe. 

-He fell in love with you because you are your beautiful self and not because you are a powerful sorcerer. 

-He wants to imagine your kids as a sign of your love and not as an item of power, as a weapon like many of these people see him. 

-He has ditched the elder meetings on many occasions just because he wasn’t in the mood of listening to their bullshit so he came home to you and spent the rest of his night cuddled up under the large comforter, watching a movie while peppering your shoulders with kisses. 

-Adores seeing you in his clothes. 

-They are so big on you that you wear them as dresses around the house. 

-He especially loves the sight of your bare legs peeking from underneath his black t-shirt. 

-99% of the time this ends up in you getting your guts rearranged. 

-Surprisingly remembers all the important dates and he makes it to as many dates as he can. 

-Being a sorcerer is difficult man, give him a break curses he has a date at 8 and he needs to get his formal glasses. 

-All in all he loves you to the moon and back and would do anything to keep you safe and next to him. 

TAG  TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @ezoyscorner​ @letscheereachotheron​ @wolfkid22​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​ @threeamwriting​ @ysatrap​ @yashinosakura  @angel6786​

[shingia]

hii ! I love your writing and this is going to be my first request on this site so i'm a bit nervous. May I request your angst prompt #6 with either akaashi or bokuto (or anyone you want but I just love them gah) and something accident related if possible (but if not it's fine!), i'm an angst sucker ;-; thank you and have a nice day!

MEMORY - BOKUTO X READER

hi !! dw it’s completely ok to be nervous about your first request, i was literally shaking when i first sent mine ! and thank youuu it’s always nice to know that my work is appreciated 💕 i had no idea of which boy to choose but i never wrote angst for bokuto so here it is, i hope it’s what you had in mind ! <3

-> angst prompt #6 “stop saying my name like it’s the last time” (that one HURTS omfg)

-> bokuto x gn!reader | Angst with a capital A | word count : 2K

warnings : car accident, mentions of blood, hospital environment

bokuto always thought it was funny how a smell, a sound or a sight could hold enough power to trigger memories that he thought had been erased by time. 

but no smell, sound or sight was ever needed for him to remember the day he first met you. how the purple lights of the bar were slowly dancing on your skin, casting shadows that made your features look different every time he casted guilty glances at you. he remembered the feeling of his sweaty palms when he asked for your number, and how you had to blink exactly four times to read his messy handwriting on your arm.

all these seemingly insignificant details were kept safe in the depths of his mind, patiently waiting to resurface every time his heart needed them. but if these kind of memories were kept so vivid by choice, others - much darker - had a terrifying way of imprinting into one’s brain…

it was a bright april afternoon, the kind of day that made people forget about their worries, and bokuto had just finished what he considered to be one of his best practice. as usual, his heart swelled with excitement at the thought that he would tell you all about it as soon as he’d step foot in your house, where he was just heading.

but the sudden vibration of his phone in his pocket made him stop dead in his tracks.

he was not particularly stressed by phone calls, but something about the way his heart dropped made his hands start shaking and his surroundings blurry ; something was off. he hesitated a few seconds before getting the phone out - maybe it was cowardice, but his body already knew that he was not ready to handle what was coming at him.

the voice he heard on the other side of the line was undoubtedly yours. the vibrations, the tone, the pitch, he had heard it whispering sweet nothings in his ear way to many times to be mistaken. so why did it take him so long to admit that it was well and truly you, calling him for what looked an awful lot like a goodbye ?

although pain and fear had grabbed you by the tongue, you miraculously managed to tell him about the poor driver that had been distracted by his kid - too distracted to see you crossing the road on your way to the store, and too slow to hit the brakes.

your voice was weak, so weak that bokuto did not even hear the last thing you said before passing out on the warm asphalt. and so he started running, as fast as humanly possible - if not more - because he knew he was only two streets away from you, and he knew that he would never forgive himself if he arrived too late.

bokuto had many preconceptions about the way he would ever react to an accident. panic, anger, sadness, incomprehension… but nothing could have prepared him for what it truly was. in one second, his mind had time to produce hundreds and hundreds of questions, and they all remained unsolved until his eyes finally laid on you, or more like what seemed like a nightmarish version of you.

a woman was frantically screaming, a hand over her mouth like it was of any use. behind her, a young girl was staring at the blood stain on the white car’s bumper, eyes wide in terror. and in the car, a giggling toddler was happily chewing on his teething ring, having no idea that today had changed his father’s life forever. the latter seemed stuck in a cataleptic trance, and it seemed like the first aider was not going to get anything out of him.

bokuto was ready to beg on his knees for the ambulance driver to allow him on the ride to the hospital.  he had a thousand ways to prove that you were the love of his life : the picture of you in his wallet, your matching key rings attached to your respective bags, the crumpled receipt of the necklace he had bought you a month ago, the one that was now hanging loosely around your dreadfully immobile neck. but just a glance at his despaired eyes was enough to understand that he deserved his place by your side in what would probably be the worst moment of your life - and his.

three paramedics were too busy putting you on a stretcher for bokuto to even catch a glimpse of your face. and the fact that he was left alone with his imagination made him want to throw up. yet when his eyes finally laid on your bruised and bloody features, it felt much, much worse than anything his imagination could have thought about. his heart skipped more than one beat at the thought that maybe he had arrived too late.

but no, your eyes fluttered open while the medics were still yelling orders at each other, meaningless words that were only background noise for bokuto. his hands gripped the edge of the stretcher, even though they were longing for the touch of your skin, no matter how scratched and wounded it was.

« hey, hey, stay with me, alright ? » he articulated in a hoarse voice as your hand found its way to his cheek. seeing that, one of the medics started reaching for your arm - you had too many broken bones for him to allow you to move so carelessly. but one of his colleagues, a tall woman with the kindest eyes, stopped him before his fingers could wrap around your wrist. and the look she gave him was screaming for his indulgence. ‘let them’.

although the opaque windows were filtering most of the ambulance lights, faint beams of red and blue were still dancing on your face. it was true that bokuto did not need anything to trigger his memories of the first time he saw you, but the alternation of the two colors on your features were a bitter reminder of the purple neons that had lightened your face in that bar, where everything had begun.  and so were his sweaty palms, warm and shaky against your wrist which he had grabbed as carefully as if it had been made of porcelain.  but the blinks of your eyes looked nothing like when you tried to guess the numbers he had written on your arm. they were desperate movements of your lids that were painfully trying to stay open - because if you had one last wish, it was that bokuto’s face would be your last sight.

your facial muscles only allowed a few painless movements, and luckily for the both of you, a faint smile was one of them. « h-how was practice ? » you asked, the left corner of your lips curling upwards. he let out a sorrowful laugh, ignoring the tears that were prickling his eyes as he started to kiss your palm at an alarming pace, like he was so desperately trying to get something out of the feeling of your skin against his lips.

« you’re gonna be okay, i promise… i love you » he told you, eyes intensely locked with yours like it was the first time these words were leaving his mouth. « i love you. so much. i love y- i love you. so fucking much, i really love you » he repeated like a prayer, words mixing up in his mind that was too focused on your eyes to think clearly about anything else.

« kou… listen to me » you whispered, still trying your best to keep your smile when it felt like every fiber of your body was being torn apart. your thumb caressed his cheek, but so stiffly that you knew it probably did not even feel like your touch. « thank you for everything, for being you and for loving me. i love you too, and you deserve to be happy… »

no. this didn’t feel right. this wasn’t a promise of love, it had the bitter taste of goodbyes, of words that are said just to alleviate the pain of the living. « don’t say it like that, please » bokuto pleaded, hating himself for ordering you when you were in such obvious distress. but for the first time since that god-sent night at the bar, he hated the sound of every word that had left your mouth. he would have given anything to go back to just a few seconds ago, when you were still joking about his practice. because back then it didn’t feel like you were going to leave.

« you’re gonna be ok. i love you, kou », you said in an almost maternal tone. « stop saying my name like it’s the last time ! » he exclaimed with such vigor that even the medics stopped for a second. but you didn’t flinch, your eyes were still kind and peaceful. and they still were when your thumb progressively started moving, and when your lids slowly closed.

──

the hall of the hospital was cold - in every sense of the word. akaashi was nervously playing with the lid of his coffee, sat upright on a chair even though his legs felt restless. bokuto, on the other hand, had refused to eat, drink or even sit for one second until he had talked to one of your doctors. it had now been almost two hours - and every second felt like torture.

but oddly enough, akaashi was the first to react at the sight of your surgeon that was coming towards them at a frustratingly slow pace.

« how did it go ? » he asked, the joint of his hands white from holding his coffee cup so tight.

« they made it. our nurses brought them to a private room where they will be watched v- »

bokuto didn’t need to hear more. he had no idea of which room you were in, but it didn’t matter - the hospital was not that big, he’d find a way. he always found a way.

running like a madman, he couldn’t even hear akaashi yelling at him to come back. his heart was throbbing with happiness at the thought that you were patiently waiting for him in a room. safe and sound.

he had spent so much time hammering the most terrible scenarios in his head that he had almost started to believe some of them were true. in a sense, he had already felt how it would be like to live without you - and he was now promising himself to never feel that pain ever again.

tired of running around without knowing where he was headed, bokuto eventually asked a nurse to indicate him the room you were kept in. and, although it did not respect the hospital’s privacy policy, she gave him without thinking twice ; because just like every other member of the staff, she knew about the boy that had spent hours crying and waiting for his loved one. her eyes were blurry with tears when he thanked her about three time before heading to the said room.

and there you were. laying on your back, staring at the ceiling with your fingers fiddling with the sheets - just like you always did when you waited for him on his bed.

« oh thank god » bokuto breathed out, taking a few seconds to admire your features before running to your side. his hands were still wet from his tears and his eyes were red and puffy, but he had never felt so happy to hold you. his lips immediately found their way to your hands, completely ignoring the strong smell of betadine, and they stretched in a grin at the familiar feeling of your fingers that seemed so tiny against his.

when he finally looked up at you, he felt like the luckiest man alive. just the sight of you breathing was something he had started to give up on. your chest was slowly heaving and your eyes blinked exactly four times before an embarrassed chuckle left your lips :

« excuse me but… who are you ? »

@toworuu @catwithangerissues

[mortalfaerie]

To Fake an Engagement (M.F.)

4/?

mathew fairchild x (fem) reader

word count: 2k

synopsis: things have gone smoothly for reader and mathew in the months since the christmas party, but as feelings grow more serious, mathew decides he needs to tell you something, a deep, horrible secret. coi canon divergent, no spoilers. discussion of mathew's "greatest sin" from GotSM

-

Two months passed as through in a dream. Mathew and you were inseparable, and you had explained to your friends after some pestering that you were secretly courting but not yet engaged, and had not taken the matter to your parents yet. Though a little exasperated and wondering why you were waiting, when surely your parents would support the decision, they kept your secret.

You went on respectable outings and took walks in the park, Matthew being “all gentlemanly propriety” as he had once said, though more than once you had stolen away to kiss feverishly in private, in alcoves and behind bushes. And who could blame you? You were teenagers in love. Only, despite making his intentions to marry you one day clear, he hadn’t said those words yet: I love you.

You didn’t want to force him to it. You knew he would tell you in his own time, but you wished he would, to affirm your hopes.

You had been surprised when a week after the Christmas party, it came to light that Matthew had bought a flat of his own. It had been shocking at first, since though you knew his family was very wealthy, he never gave off an air of superiority you had expected from someone of his status. He had given you and all your friends a tour, when he had moved in after a spat with his family. You were happy to see him happy, but you would like to see him reconciled with his parents. You were fond of Charlotte and Henry Fairchild, and them you, for forcing Matthew out of his foul moods.

It was a Wednesday in February, and the sun seemed to have come out for the first time in weeks. You were responding to a letter from your cousin when you looked out your window and saw Mathew approaching your house. Startled, you jumped up and smoothed your dress, arranging your hair in the mirror, just as your mother called that “your friend, Matthew” had come to ask you to walk in the park. You gathered your coat and boots, and came down the stairs to join him, smiling as you took his arm.

“What brings you around unannounced?” you asked, as you proceeded down the street toward the park at the center of your neighborhood.

He looked at you sideways and smiled crookedly. “Can a man not engage the attention of the woman he’s courting?”

You laughed and nudged him, answering, “Of course I am glad to see you, but what is the occasion?”

“There are matters I would like to discuss with you.” he replied.

“Oh, dear.” you remarked, and shook your head.

He smiled. “Don’t look so grave. I haven’t come to break this off.”

“Well I should certainly hope not, because I’m sure Lucie and Cordelia would be after your head on a platter if you did.” You replied. It was true that the two of them had leveled not-so-joking threats at Matthew should he break your heart after telling their group you had an understanding. Matthew, recalling this, winced beside you.

You were approaching the park now. The snow had mostly melted by now, and the unusually sunny weather had allowed for the ground to dry. As such, Matthew gestured for you to sit on the grass, and then joined you, taking in the sun on the pond water.

“So, my brooding love, what is it you must discuss with me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He gave you a nod, looking pale. Your heart picked up, wondering what was so severe that he was visibly distressed by it. As support, you offered your hand, and he took it, lacing your fingers together.

“I must tell you something, Y/N. It will not reflect well on my character, and it may impact your desire to continue in this arrangement we have, which is why I must tell you now.” he began, and looked to you to gage your reaction. You were looking at him in alarmed confusion but nodded for him to continue.

“You recall that Alistair Carstairs was a menace to us at the Academy?” he said, his voice snagging with venom on his enemy’s name.

“Yes, I remember you telling me. He was a bully and he spread rumors-” you began, and he finished, “About my parentage. Yes.”

He took a deep breath and said more levelly, “Even after I left the Academy, his word stuck with me. I couldn’t put the notion that Gideon Lightwood was my father out of my head, since neither of my parents have my hair, but Charles has our father’s red hair. Well, I had been at the Shadow Market, and despite the advice of a good man, I bought a tincture from a faerie meant to compel the truth from a person.” His voice broke, and he closed his eyes, collecting himself. You squeezed his hand to let him know he could take as much time as he needed to, and that you were here for him.

Finally, he cleared his throat and continued, “I slipped the tincture into a batch of scones for my mother. I meant to ask her, after she ate one, if Gideon was my father, but- faeries lie. I should have known that. It wasn’t a truth tonic, Y/N. And I didn’t know my mother was with child.”

“Oh, Matthew.” you whispered, so full of sorrow for him and this cross he had been carrying.

“My mother became ill. She recovered, but… the child was lost. I killed it, her. It was a girl. And the most wretched part is they would have named her Matthilda, for my great aunt. My great aunt, who had my hair. There was never any truth to the rumor at all.” He choked on a sob, and it was clear that even now, he was tormented by the mistake.

Your heart broke, and you pulled him to you, letting him drop his head into your lap as his tears wet your skirt. You consoled him, feeling some tears well up in your own eyes to see him in pain, and told him again and again, “It wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have known.”

“I am a murderer, Y/N. I killed my unborn sister.” he said with such awful resignation.

“You are not a murderer, Matthew, you had no reason to know it would harm her, or that she was with child, you couldn’t have intended harm.” you argued.

“But it happened because I believed a stupid rumor over my own parents. And because of it, someone died while I got to live.” you leaned down and wrapped your arms around him as his body shook, and assured him,

“You are a good man, Matthew Fairchild. I know this, and this knowledge doesn’t change that. It was a terrible, awful mistake, but it was a mistake.”

“How,” he hiccuped, “can you love me, knowing now what I’ve done?”

You pulled him up so he faced you. “I can love you because I have loved you with every foolish thing you have done until now. I came to love you because of who you are, and I will love you still, knowing this. You are still the boy I fell in love with when I moved to London, and you are the man I love now.”

Tears streaked his face as he responded, “You are the most kind person I have ever known. Your capacity to love and forgive astounds me every day, and I am so, so lucky to know you, Y/N.”

With a deep breath, he added, “And I love you, with every fiber of my being.”

In spite of yourself, you felt a grin spread across your face. “You love me?” you asked, almost disbelieving.

“Yes.” he said, as serious as you had ever seen him. “I love you. I love, I love, I love you.”

You wiped the wetness from his cheeks with your fingers and cupped his face. “I love you, too, Matthew. I love you so much.” and you leaned in to kiss him, slowly, and meaningfully.

When you parted, he said, “Then there’s something I need to ask you.”

Your heart thudded with abandon in your chest. Was this what you thought it was? It wasn’t even close to the end of your bargain! You schooled your voice to be calm and responded, “Yes?”

“Will you marry me, Y/N Y/L/N?” he said, quiet enough that only you two could hear.

Tears spilled over now, as you nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. Yes, of course I will marry you. By the Angel, yes!”

He pulled you into a strong, crushing hug. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, Y/N." he repeated, holding you close. He pulled away, looking you in the eyes to say, “I have worked on my drinking, I don’t know if you’ve noticed. I don’t carry a flask anymore, and I have a flat. I can support you.”

You laughed. “Matthew, I would marry you if you had nothing.”

He playfully raised an eyebrow and asked, “But you are glad that I don’t?”

You both laughed as you responded, “Of course.” You gasped, and then fumbled for your pocket, producing the Fairchild ring from it. You put it in his hand and removed your own glove, offering him your hand. “Put the ring on, in earnest this time.”

He grinned like an idiot as he slid his family ring, which had been in your keeping for months, onto your own hand again. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. “My bride to be.” he murmured, just as he had that night in the Devil’s Tavern all those months ago.

Your heart swelled for love of him. You loved him, for better or for worse, his foulness and his sweetness, all of him.

“Y/N Fairchild.” you said, trying out the name.

He smiled. “I shall have it engraved on every surface in our home. So, a spring wedding, or autumn?”

“Hmm.” you considered. “Autumn, I think. We have no need to rush.”

He gave you a mischievous look. “Only that I wish to have you in my own home, through the night, as soon as I can.”

You blushed despite yourself. “Oh, very well. Perhaps a May wedding…” you trailed off, and leaned in to kiss him, this time full of promise of things to come.

-

Your parents had been surprised, but supportive. After all, what shadowhunter parents wouldn’t support their daughter marrying into the Consul’s family? An engagement party had been held the following week at Matthew’s new flat, and at your request, his parents were invited. He wasn’t overly excited to speak to them, but he understood how much having his family involved in the wedding meant to you, and he obliged.

You were standing in the foyer beside him, dressed in your best party gown, when Henry and Charlotte arrived. When they entered, at first no one spoke, and then Charlotte smiled warmly and took your hand. “Y/N, dear. I could not have wished for a better woman to love my son.”

You felt Matthew relax some beside you, and he smiled cordially to his parents. “Thank you, mum. I am very lucky to have her.”

Henry had grinned and shook your hand, welcoming you to the family. After they proceeded into the large parlor, Matthew wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to his side, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Thank you.” he murmured.

“For what?” you asked, confused.

“For this. I think you’ve made me a better person in their eyes. You changed me.” he said, resting his chin on your head.

“No, you changed yourself, Matthew. That was you.” you countered.

He gave a chuckle and held you tighter. “Well, you gave me a good reason to change.”

You happily snuggled into his chest, lingering in the foyer a little longer before going into the party.

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

Can you tell me more about Tsuganu's twin sister? And their parents? I wanna knowwww~ (specifically so I can finally match a name to the face and maybe write Tsuganu's sister and family in my stuff)

Ahhhh!!! Of course, thank you so much for asking about them!! You know how happy this makes me to be able to ramble about my characters!! Tsunagu’s family is one that I actually have some more set info on them because they were some of my first proper family ocs that I made.

I dunno whether you saw my post from earlier with all the family photos, but if not I do recommend doing so since they have their designs and everything!! They give a rough idea to what Tsunagu’s sister, mum, dad, niece +nephew look like!! And eventually I plan on making another one of those little character info posts for her like I did with Hana, Mao and Yuna. But for now imma ramble and give you some headcanons and basic info on his family! :)

His twin sister is called Ai!!(Which I’ve mentioned before in some of my writing)

She has twins! One daughter, one son!

They are quite the rich family and they do fancy things.

They come from a family that has roots to an ancestry of psychic based quirks? (A long long time ago) So like, manipulation, telekinesis, telepathy, etc. (This links into some stuff with their quirks and some other stuff, like if you remember one of my headcanons about jeanists gut feelings? Yeah, that was a while ago)

This is their dads side of the family, their dad has a manipulation based quirk which allows him to manipulation and control the things that he touches (not majorly, but enough to make quite a difference, and it undoes itself as soon as he lets go)

Their mum is quite the lovely gentle lady.

Her quirk allows her to create different fabrics from the fiber and sugars that she consumes (it works quite similarly to Momo’s quirk I guess?) however overusing this over the years has caused her to be physically quite fragile, weak and easily ill.

She is an absolute bundle of sunshine though! Unlike his dad, which may or may not be obvious in that drawing ahaha

Ai has a basic telekinesis quirk, just able to move rather small things normally, but in a stressful situation can move a lot heavier things.

Activating her quirk alongside Tsunagu’s could be absolutely catastrophic. But it’s also kinda funny. Watching as everything is flying everywhere and just chaos it’s great.

Ai’s husband works as a rescue hero? Like, he helps to find people who are stuck in rubble and stuff like that. His quirk is basically like echolocation, he can produce a sound and use it to pinpoint where objects are.

Ai works in support. She loves making things and just inventing little things in general.

Their mum used to (still sometimes does) work in fashion due to her quirk.

Their dad used to be a hero, but then an accident happened that caused him to lose his sight in one eye and he had to retire. But he did get (somehow?) roped into working with the police for quite a while and is now retired....and constantly grumpy.

The twin kids are meant to have streaky brown hair but I forgot to change it in my drawing so sorry bout that.

Ai is very cheeky and mischievous. She gets along very well with Hana in terms of teasing their brothers like crazy.

Goodness me. They all love Shinya. They know about his past as well, and this actually made Tsunagu’s dad tear up when he heard it. His mum had already been crying but they immediately accepted him as part of the family.

They’re always respectful towards his own respect to his family, though, and are quite overprotective of him to others.

The first conversation Tsunagu had with his mum after introducing him just went like:

“Hm, you are my son now. Tsunagu get out of here. I’ve replaced you, he is an angel!” “Wh- you’ve replaced me with my own boyfriend?” “Oh? Do you hear something? Nevermind, dear, let’s get you some tea.” “Mother!” *polite snickering*

Shinya finds it incredibly sweet.

Oh, by the way, ectoloadersnipe are family friends. They went to UA with Tsunagu’s cousin and were close friends so that’s how they know each other.

Ai is best mates with PL. Like, come on, they just spend the whole time tinkering while their husbands politely chat over tea!

The twins love “uncle Shinya” and the first time they called him this, both him and Tsunagu almost had a heart attack out of shock.

Some info that’s actually really important to know for some of my posts actually, which I think I’ve mentioned very briefly before (and will come up in ‘A Frayed Thread of Hope’👀):

Due to dormant psychic-based quirk genes that have been passed down over generations, they have this danger sense that is basically just an incredibly strong gut feeling when something bad is about to happen. This feeling gets worse as it gets closer to the time of said bad thing. However, if they manage to guess roughly what is going to happen (not in full detail, just like ‘oh something is gonna happen to so-and-so) it clicks and though the feeling doesn’t go away, it’s more like a confirmation of what’s going to happen.

Also, these things happen. It’s not some sort of gut feeling that may be right or wrong, they’ve never been wrong. That’s what the difference is. And that’s why they always have to follow it.

Another thing from these dormant quirk genes and them being twins in this case, is that Tsunagu and Ai have a connected sense of physical pain and a couple of other things of the sort. Not fully, but slightly, and they are aware of it. So when Tsunagu gets injured in work, Ai feels a much smaller version of this pain and it’s a very sure way of knowing if the other is in trouble.

Though, it is rather funny when Ai was pregnant, or when it’s that time of month...because wow Tsunagu is such a weak little noodle when it comes to handling those things and he wishes that Ai didn’t have to feel that much pain....in a slightly sympathetic but also definitely self-pitying way 😂

(There are a lot of funny opportunities here.....but also plenty of angst that may or may not be already planned out...)

And there we go!! Sorry it’s rambly but I also ran out of things to say for tonight...I know for a fact that I have plenty more, but they’re probably too specific and I’d have to actually have them pointed out first so I can remember them aha

@ohpleaseiwillendyou thank you so so much for asking! These are my characters who I have spent so much time on designing and coming up with, so when people ask about them it really makes me happy and brings me confidence about them :)

~Eclair ❤️

[kellyedith]

She is so noble, so enthusiastic, and at the same time such a naive child, and in fact so like himself in character.

She is so noble, so enthusiastic, and at the same time such a naive child, and in fact so like himself in character. Yet, he tries. From my three hours’ conversation with Katya I carried away among other impressions the strange but positive conviction that she was still such a child that she had no idea of the inner significance of the relations of the sexes. All donations will directly help the refugees at the border.. Cersei sat as still as a stone statue as the shears clicked. However, using that as a statistic is misleading, since many people gave up their voice and their say zapatillas de tacos futbolin the election by not voting. One of Illyrio’s chests had been packed with a child’s clothing, musty but well made. Great Wolf would only say the facility would reopen next winter though city planning documents indicated the refurbishing of the complex was to be completed in November.. If you doubt me, ask Bronn. An event was recorded the first year

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[colorfullfalls]

Warm me up

Embry Call x Reader

Between Forks and La Push, supernatural occurances were constant. Vampires, wolves, but the new visitors were witches. A coven of witches moved directly between Forks and La Push, which created a massive headache for the Cullen's and Quileutes.

The witches were unpredictable and everyone seemed weary about them. The imprints were strictly told to steer clear of them. Worry coursed through the wolves veins as the thought of the love of their lives being magically hurt in any way.

Y/N was bored. Embry was patrolling a lot lately for the Black Pack due to the additional supernatural beings. She admired his dedication and hours upon hours protecting the people. But she missed him. And even more so, she was bored.

"Sweetheart, please don't go anywhere without someone who is.. well... A wolf or vampire. It sounds dumb but we aren't sure with what we are dealing with."

Embry's honest genuine worries flowed through her brain every time she thought about saying fuck it and leaving the small house.

She watched movies, cleaned again and again, organized a thousand times, played with the dogs in the yard, danced in the kitchen, painted and even sewed. Still, she yearned to actually go out in public. Walmart roaming at 2 am seemed like an absolute dream, but Embry would go into cardiac arrest if you went there, let alone so late.

He always claimed that late nights made people lonely and that led to them doing bad shit. He was so paranoid that you would fall victim to someone's boredom gone wrong. He loved Y/N more than the world and God, he wanted to shelter her and keep her safe.

The imprints were alright with doing whatever their wolves said. Stay inside- they did. Don't talk to the cullens- they did. But Y/N was not like that. She was stubborn as a mule, and Embry knew better than to try to treat her like that. She was a free woman who refused to bend to whatever others wanted.

Embry grew up respecting women. Growing up with his mom made him realize how strong women are. Tiffany didn't need a man's presence, money, or help to raise her son. He knew felt proud to have his mom. He loved her almost as much as he loved Y/N. Which is an insane amount considering Y/N was his life.

Sitting on the counter with Embry standing between her legs, she knew shit was serious. His wide brown eyes held sorrow and fear as he explained how dangerous the witches could potentially be. And that he knew she hated trying to be told what to do, but she would save him loads of worrying if she would please listen.

Y/N solemnly agreed because she knew that this matter was serious. What she didn't realize was that he would be absent so much. She missed him. Having him home would make the time fly by. His very presence was all that she needed. Craved it.

Y/N had a sudden idea. Having a hammock would be nice. Two beautiful oak trees rooted close by would be a wonderful place to hang one. She could read on it, paint on it, and stare at the sky for hours. She blushed as images of her and embry on it ran through her mind.

Leaving was a bad idea. Her mind said, no. Be smarter than that. Her heart said that she wanted that hammock and needed it. She bit her lip as she glanced at the clock. Embry wouldn't even know. Y/N decided she would lie and say she had the thing all along if he were to ask about it.

That's it, she was going. She went, got it, and felt great. Happy. Fulfilled. Excited to put it up.

She was halfway home when her car slowly halted. Gas pedal was down but the car was not moving.

"What the fuck?!" She stated, hitting the gas pedal a few times. Y/N groaned as she threw her head back. If she wasn't home soon she would be found by a very angry and dissapointed wolf. A metaphorical dog house, ironically.

Tapping left to her head made Y/N jump, screams rippling out of her throat. Hand on her throat in surprise she turned.

Gorgeous piercing green eyes looked expectantly at her. Tattoos spread down her arms, but they were almost unnoticeable due to the black hair cascading over them. Y/N swore that she never saw such beautiful hair before.

The woman had a calm look on her face, but she was intimidating none the less. She opened the car door and all Y/N could do was watch as her heart beat out of her chest.

"Wolf girl.... Could sense you miles away." She said, leaning on the door.

"Im- uh- hah, I'm not a wolf..." Y/N stammered, clinging to her seat belt in fear. Embry was for sure going to scold her for hours now.

"An imprint, whatever. You have association with them. It's simple. See, you came from La Push, their territory. No one goes there really. So you're a wolf girl one way or the other."

Y/N sheepishly nodded, glancing away from the woman and to her phone. Maybe if she got ahold of Embry he could save her before anything happened. Her hand twitched to grab it but suddenly she gasped, crippling pain invading her body.

Y/N cried out in pain as she sank into the seat. An instant headache crept up the back of her head as tears spilled.bShit shit shit. This witch meant business, and wasn't scared to use powers already.

Flame like feeling stopped and Y/N gasped for breath in her driver seat. She hit the steering wheel a few times in frustration.

"God, maybe use your words next time?" Y/N venomously spat, glaring at the green eyes witch.

"Waste of my breath, hun. Girl talk isn't girl talk if you call your wolf man."

"Don't want girl talk." Y/N mumbled, still calming down from being hurt. She didn't want to anger her but sometimes it was hard to bite her tongue.

"Let's cut to the chase. You need to tell the wolves to lay off. Stop pacing around our area. Witch business is none of their concern" The witch knelt down and got closer to Y/N's face.

"Tell them that... You think they listen to me? Sure, I'm an imprint and I can voice my opinion, but the pack does as it chooses. I have no power over them." Y/N softly said.

"Seduction. You own your wolf. I'm familiar with how imprinting works. You control this man's life! So don't give me that 'I can't control anything' speech. You can and will relay the message."

Anger coursed through Y/N's veins. How dare the asshole witch act like Y/N can just suck off Embry and then he does whatever she says? He didn't own her, and she didn't own him. Insinuating that Embry was Y/N's toy made her want to scream. She kept calm and shook her head.

"You're oh so wrong..." Y/N mumbled shaking her head, "You should've talked to them because Embry is not going to be happy when he finds out you did this. Infuriated, actually."

"Wow, so Embry is his name? It's a handsome one, truth be told." The witch stood back up.

"Don't."

The witch's tongue poked out to wet her lips before she spoke in a scary calm tone, "Do as I say...you'll live. Simple. task. Look, I'm not stupid, I would never face a wolf alone and right now I'm the only one home. But you see, 'm getting rather fed up with all the sneaking around our place. I'm actually angrier than I thought...."

"shit" Y/N whispered

The witch looked at Y/N thoughtfully, "Maybe if I hurt you a bit, they would get the hint..."

Y/N shook her head, "You said you know about imprinting, but obviously not enough because going after a wolf is idiotically stupid. They're sacred. Not to be messed with. They would die for us."

At that moment snarking was heard. Y/N felt a tear of happiness roll down her cheek as she felt relief rush through every cell in her body like a river that had been dammed up. Embry was about to save her ass.

The witch jumped around in time to see Embry approach. She flicked her wrist as if to hurt him the way she hurt Y/N, but she was quickly jumped on by Bella. Bella choked her so that she would pass out.

Jacob ran out of the woods to help Bella tie up the woman's arms and legs. Embry shifted back, scrambling to throw on shorts and racing to your side.

His hands grasped her face as he checked her for any injuries. His stony expression broke as he cried out in relief, kissing Y/N's face all over.

"Baby, thank God we found you!" Em exclaimed, hugging her to his chest. Tears flowed down her face. That witch scared the daylight of out Y/N, and Embry saved her life.

°°°°

Hours later Embry sat with his chin on the edge of the bathtub while his lovely imprint sat inside of it. Bubbles filled the area up to her chest. Embry's heightened eyes couldn't see anything besides her shoulders and head. Her hair sat delicately in a bun to avoid getting damp.

Embry smiled smittenly at how pretty she looked in the candle light. Her doe eyes stared back at him equally lovingly. She blushed, looking away and sinking deeper into the water.

Baths always made her feel better, and after the day the imprint had, she needed one. As soon as they got home Embry ran the water and helped her in.

50's music softly played through the bluetooth speaker as the couple shared such an intimate moment.

Embry interlocked one of his hands with his imprint's soapy ones, "Thought I was gonna lose you today..." He murmured, brining the interlocked hands up so that he could kiss hers.

"For a while there, me too..."

Embry whimpered and kissed her hand a few times to center himself. Seeing that witch in front of his soulmate awakened things inside of him that he never knew he had in him.

He wanted to rip the witch's limbs slowly one by one, her screams echoing through the land. He wanted the witch bitch to beg for mercy and apologize relentlessly until her last breathe. But then his eyes moved to his scared girlfriend, and all he thought about was getting to her as soon as he could. Holding her in his strong arms and assuring her that all would be okay.

"Talked to Jake and I'm not patrolling for a while. Can't leave you again." He said with every fiber of his heart.

Y/N nodded, understanding that his inner wolf was still going crazy from the danger she had been in. She felt guilty for being dumb enough to leave the house over a hammock.

"Thank you for not yelling at me. I deserve it, like big time. I went to buy a fucking hammock. All of this, over a fun outside prop..." Y/N ranted, angry with herself.

"I was going to, but three seconds after I realized you were in danger... Scolding you was the last thing on my mind. Telling you to stay home and then never being there was hard on you, I get that. I'm sorry." He confessed.

Embry blamed himself. He knew Y/N hated being at home and with him not being there, she would hate it even more. His Y/N was a social woman and restricting that wasn't right. Not without him keeping her company.

"Apology isn't necessary, but thank you. Im a grown woman who should have more common sense."

A comfortable silence settled over the pair. Embry stroked his thumb across her hand as her eyes fluttered shut. She was tired and he could tell.

"Love bug, why don't we dry you off and go to bed? We could both use sleep, hmm?"

She sleepily nodded.

Ten minutes later Embry spooned Y/N, squeezing her close as he could without hurting her. He felt her body shake a bit. Concern filled his face as he lifted up to look at her through the moon light.

"Y/n?"

She turned and instead of crying, she was laughing. Laughing so hard that her body was shaking. Embry slightly smiled, unaware of how to react.

"I bought a hammock today. I risked my life... For a hammock. But hey," she laughed harder, "now we can use it whenever. Because we have so much time alone. Trapped here."

Embry now grinned. He knew she was delirious and tired, but he thought it was cute, "We can lay in it tomorrow, all day. Just us." He whispered, nuzzling his nose agaisnt her cheek.

Y/N stopped laughing, "Id like nothing more. I'm so in love with you," she whispered suddenly serious. He felt his heart flutter as her lips brushed against his. He lost his breath as she kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Tease" he mumbled, caressing her face to bring her in for a propper kiss. She hummed as she pulled her wolf closer to her, drugged by his closeness. His warm body heat made her toasty as he slipped his tongue in her mouth. She slightly pulled away.

"Warm me up, wolf boy." She said, kissing him once again. Embry almost lost his Y/N, but God was she alive with him at 2 am. Very alive.

[addictofsupernatural]

Spidey Senses (pt. 3)

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: You and Peter suit up and fight.

Word Count: 2730

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 4

You woke up in Peter's warm arms, feeling his chest rising and falling peacefully. You slowly got out of his warmth and out into the cold room, where you took a quick shower. While in the shower, Peter woke up and figured it would be nice to get out a pair of clothes for you, laying it out on the bed before going back to sleep for a bit. You grabbed the clothes with a smile and changed in the bathroom. While you were doing that, there was a knock at the door.

Peter got up and opened the door, with low waisted sweat pants and no shirt. Happy furrowed his brows. "What are you doing in y/n's room? Where is she?"

"I think she's changing now in the bathroom. Did something happen?"

"Were you in here with her all night?" Happy was enraged at the misunderstanding situation he was watching.

"Um, yeah?" Peter leaned on the door, which pissed Happy off even more. Was he just eating this up?!

"What the hell is wrong with you? She's only 15, and you're seriously going to toy with her feelings just to sleep with her? Have some respect for her, and yourself!"

As Happy yelled at Peter, Peter was backing up out of shock, causing Happy to walk in. "No no no no no! It isn't like that!"

You got out of the bathroom, having heard Happy's voice and just finished changing. "What'd I miss?"

"Happy thinks we had, like, sex or something!" Peter looked at you in a panic.

"Woah!" You walked in between Happy and Peter. "It's really not what it looks like. I get nightmares so Peter slept in the same room with me. That's it."

"Oh." He shifted his feet awkwardly. "My, my bad. Sorry."

You smiled. "Thank you for defending my honor though. That's really sweet of you." He smiled and nodded back. "So did you want to tell us something?"

"Oh, right." He walked to a different door and opened it, revealing another room.

"Woah, was that a part of our rooms too?!" Peter asked.

"Oh my God that's so cool." You whisper yelled.

Happy geastured to the two suitcases, and Peter got out his phone to record. "Is, is this for for us?" He excitedly asked.

"Who else would it be for?" Happy said.

"This is the coolest thing I've ever seen!" Peter quickly said, almost out of breath. Happy then walked away. "Wait, Happy!"

You then bounced up and down. "This is awesome!" You both put on your outfits facing away from each other. "Okay, ready?"

"Yeah."

"1, 2, 3!" You both turned around to see each other in your super suits. "You look amazing!"

"So do you!" You both hugged each other, and Peter spun you around. You had one mask to cover your eyes and another one to cover your mouth and nose.

"What are you two doing?" Happy came in again.

"We put them on?" You said, confused.

"No, you don't put them on yet. We're taking a plane and then you two put them on. I just wanted you guys to grabs the suitcases."

You both put on your normal clothing over the suits, Peter recording the two of you messing around. You went on the private plane and messed around some more, with Peter waking up to a sleeping Happy as a prank. That's when you got to the empty airport and waited for your signal.

You glaced at Peter, only to see him taking out his camera and still filming. "Are you recording this too?!"

"I need to get everything." He then pointed the camera to you. "Alright, let's see that face."

"This face isn't gonna be front and center in your videos Peter. You know I hate seeing myself on camera." You turned away from him.

He felt a little bad for reminding you of your insecurities, but decided that teasing you would make you feel better. "C'mon, just a little." He reach over and pulled down your mouth mask. "Let's just get the smile and..." He pulled over your eye mask as well. "Aww, see? You look nice."

He pinched your cheek and you giggled, swatting his hand away. "Okay, you got me. I guess I'm in your video diary."

"Don't worry folks, we got her smile." He teased some more. You put back on your masks and hugged him from the side as he talked to the camera one on one.

"Underoos!"

The signal was then shouted, and you both swooped in, you shooting a web at Steve's arm while Peter grabbed his shield. "Hey everyone." Peter said.

"Did we miss something?" You teased.

A big fight erupted quickly, and you were defending everyone whenever you could. You and Peter were with the Falcon for a bit. "So what's your suit made out of? Carbon fiber?"

You hung upside down and stared at the fallen Falcon. "That would explain the flexibility ratio."

"So Tony just hired teenager hims now?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"Does our intelligence threaten you?" You asked seriously before giggling and coming back to the ground. "I'm totally kidding man. I love your wings and I'm a pretty big fan."

Then there was that amazing moment for you when Clint was coming at the Black Panther, who was trying to get to the Ant Man. As he was running you ran over to him, sliding on your knees as you stuck out your arms. "Need a lift?" You asked.

You then boosted him up where he hopped right above Clint and punching Ant Man. "Thank you young one."

"Course sir!"

Soon the Ant Man was suddenly huge, and you followed in Peter's lead of wrapping him in webbing. You then heard Peter ask, "Hey, have you guys seen that really old movie Empire Strikes Back?"

You bursted into a fit of giggles over the question, and you heard, "Jesus Tony, how old are these kids?"

"Just hear Peter out sir." You suggested.

He was panting from working hard at this point, as were you. "You guys remember... on the snow planet... with the walking thingies!"

"I think the kid might be onto something." Tony said. Sure enough, it worked.

"Yes~!" You cheered.

"That was awesome–!" You and Peter both got cut off from the slap of the Ant Man's hand. You both slammed into the ground, where Tony told you guys that you did a great job, and that you were done.

You both took off your masks. "So," you said breathlessly. "We just fought with the Avengers."

"I stole Captain America's shield." You both giggled.

When you both got up and retrieved Peter's camera, you saw that Happy was waiting in his car outside. You both got in and sighed at the comfort of sitting on cushions. "Rough fight?" He asked.

"The guy with the metal arm was pretty cool." You said. "And I like Falcon's suit."

"I like how Mr. Stark vouched for us with the War Machine." Peter said.

"You two look like crap." You gave Happy a smile at the comment. "You're going to be in the hotel for the rest of the day, and Tony's gonna come with you tonight to drop you two off."

Once you two were in your hotel room, Peter rambled on to his camera, and you put in some information occasionally. Once Happy came and told him to shut up, he turned off the camera and faced you.

"So I have, like, a huge favor to ask." You sat on your bed and patted him to sit as well, which he did. "I need help with talking to Liz."

"W–um, okay." You said slowly. It's fine. You were his friend, and you had to help him out. Even if it hurt. "It's easy, just talk to me and pretend I'm her."

"Okay." He said quietly.

"Hey Peter." You said and smiled.

"H...Hey Liz."

"How was your day?"

"It was, um, it was good. How's your day? Did you–Did you have a good time, or... not that you were going anywhere but if your day in general was a good time. Y'know, sometimes you could just be at school and have a good time or—"

"Peter stop." You said, giving him a wide grin as you covered his mouth with your hand. "You need to take a deep breath and calm down."

"I know, it's just really hard when I'm talking to her." He sighed in defeat. "I'm just gonna keep looking stupid in front of her. What's the point."

"Don't say that." you said quietly. You leaned into the headboard, and opened your arms. He laid down into your side, fitting perfectly. You began stroking his soft hair. "You don't look stupid, and you never have. You just need to be confident with yourself and talk to her as if you were talking to any other girl. You're amazing Peter, of course she'll like you back."

He tightened his grip around you. "Thanks y/n. You're amazing too."

You both dozed off, but unlike the peaceful Peter in your arms, you fell asleep upset with the doubts about yourself kicking in. Your dreams went back to the thought of your mom and her friends. The drugs. You couldn't stop them from putting a needle in you. You thrashed around but they pinned you down. You yelled out for someone to help you, but they covered your mouth. Nobody's going to help you.

"Y/n wake up!"

You jolted up from your bed, where Peter was shaking you awake. You had tears in your eyes. "I... They held me down... I couldn't move..."

"It's okay. It's just you and me. Nobody else." He brought you into his arms as you hugged him tightly, quietly sobbing.

Happy then came into the room. "What happened?"

"It's nothing, she just had a nightmare." You hid your face in Peter's shirt, not wanting Happy to see you like this. "She doesn't like people seeing her cry."

"Oh, uh, sorry." He then left the room.

After a bit you stopped crying, Peter being patient with you the whole time. "Are you okay now?"

"I guess." You sat up and turned away from him, putting your face in your hands. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"It's okay, sometimes you just need to let out a good cry." He scooted closer to you. "Can I see your face please?"

"Why?" Your voice came out as a whisper.

"Cause you're hiding it from me." He gently moved your hands. "Look, I found my best friend."

You smiled and went on your knees to wrap him in a hug. "Thank you Peter. You always make me happy."

At that moment, Peter noticed how good you smell. He's always been around your familiar scent, but it was never this good before. And you hair, was it always so soft and shiny? You felt so soft and warm right now. He didn't know how to describe it, but you just felt so overwhelmingly nice in his arms.

It was cut short by Happy knocking as Tony barged in. "Alright, time to go." You both sperated and quickly got your stuff. As you were leaving Tony blankly told you, "Your face is puffy. Why?"

"Your ego is huge. Why?"

"Fair enough." You and Peter packed up the car when when Happy whispered to you, making sure you were okay. "Y/n, you and me are in the back. Kid you go in the front."

"Um, Mr. Stark sir." Peter fiddled with the bottom of his shirt.

"Look at me in the eye when you're talking to me." Peter's head quickly shot up. "Okay, what?"

"Please don't pressure her with questions. She's been through some stuff and I don't think it's fair if–"

"Peter, it's okay." You said. "He's still gonna overstep. I don't mind."

"Okay." You both smiled at each other as you went into the car.

"Happy put up the divider." Once it was up, he turned to you. "So you two had a moment."

"It's not a moment, I just had a nightmare. And by the way, what did you say to him yesterday?"

"I was just helping him compare you to that other girl." He said casually.

"You what? Wha–why would you do that? She's like, actual perfection!"

"And what do you think you are?"

"Nowhere near her." You sighed and looked out the window. "Well that explains him asking for help on talking to her."

"Oh wow, what an idiot. That's not at all what I was going for." He put his hand under his chin.

"I know but he gets like that with her. He really likes her Tony. Thanks for trying to help, but me and him are hopeless."

"I call bullshit on that. You two are adorable, and I can tell you'll end up together."

"Thanks." You smiled.

He knocked on the dividers, and you and Peter switched places, only with the dividers down. Peter talked to his camera some more, and Tony caught him, making a joke about it before talking into the camera as well. He then told the two of you that you were keeping the suits.

"One question I do have is for the other kid."

"Is he talking about me?" You mumbled to Happy.

"I think he is." He mumbled back.

"Did he just call me the 'other kid'? That's so rude." You then turned to Tony, smiling at Happy's quiet, high pitched chuckle. "What's up?"

"Why do you call me Tony instead of Mr. Stark like Peter? You called everyone else sir."

"That's not true. I call my new best friend Happy by his name."

Happy looked at you and awkwardly shook his head. "She doesn't mean that Tony."

"Yes I do. I'm stealing your friends. Now I just need to meet James Rhodes and Pepper Potts."

Peter let out a chuckle, and Tony laughed as well. "Watch it kid. And that didn't answer my question."

You shrugged. "I don't know, just sounds right. I guess I can try." You made your voice sound more mature when you asked, "Will that be all Mr. Stark?"

"Okay now you sound like Pepper, which is really creepy for me."

You giggled. "Tony it is."

"Oh, and before I forget." He took out a check and stuck his hand out for you to take it. "Here you go."

You only stared at it. "What's that for?"

He lightly scoffed. "You don't really think I'm not gonna help you out when you're living in a dump like that."

You frowned, and the car came to a stop at your apartment complex. "That dump is what I call home Tony." You said quietly. "I'm proud of it."

"No offense kid, but you really shouldn't be proud of that." Peter said nothing, but his body language changed.

"Well I, the 15 year old, got an apartment by herself. I got a job to pay for my living, and I cook and clean for myself. I even started buying cable recently. So yeah, I'd say I'm proud of what I managed to do. Some people aren't as lucky as me. I'm not a charity case, so don't treat me like one."

He hesitated. "I didn't mean–"

"Goodbye Mr. Stark." You then got out of the car, and they heard a glimpse of you saying "Linda!"

"I'll take the check Mr. Stark." Peter said. "I'll make sure she takes it tomorrow. She just gets angry and embarrassed when people look down on her. It's happened to her a lot, but she'll realize that you did it out of kindness."

Tony stared out the window. "Who's that?"

Peter saw that you were talking to a homeless girl, and buying a newspaper from her. "That's Linda. Y/n became friends with her not too long after she moved into the apartment. They talk, sometimes she cooks for Linda and let's her shower, and Linda sometimes leaves some money on y/n's counter. Maybe like a dollar or two. Y/n doesn't say anything about it so she doesn't embarrass Linda."

Meanwhile, you were talking to your friend outside. "Okay, I'll get us something to eat. I don't really have anything made so cereal it is."

"Lucky charms." She called out as you ran up the stairs.

"Got it!"

While you were preoccupied, Peter and Tony got out of the car. "Hey Linda." Peter said.

"Hey Peter! I'm sure your internship trip was fun with y/n."

Peter chuckled. "Yeah it was awesome."

"Kid go get her bags." Peter didn't say anything is he went to the trunk to get your suitcases. "Hi. Tony."

"You're..."

"Yup. Do you have a bank account?"

"Well, no."

"Then here." He took off his watch and handed it to her. "This is all I really have on me at the moment."

"Holy shit. Um, thank you sir!"

"Don't mention it." Just as you came down the steps with two bowls in hand, Tony nodded to you and went into the car.

"I'll bring these up to your apartment for you." Peter said.

"You have a lot to tell me you little shit." Linda said, grinning wide. "You didn't mention Tony Stark being a part of your internship tour."

"Ugh, I guess I could tell you a little bit." You teased.

"I just want to hear about him. Holy crap he's hotter in person."

"Do you ever not cuss Linda? Like, shit bro."

"What are you gonna do, tell my parents? And what about you? You just cussed."

"What are you gonna do, tell my parents?" You chuckled.

She scoffed and looked down at her bowl. "That was a pretty good come back."

"Okay, your stuff is in your living room." Peter said as he came out. You both hugged. "Good night."

"Night." He then left you to your nosy and thirsty friend.

---

Author's Note: Sorry this took long to do. I'll be quicker from now on.

---

Tag List:

@flawlessapollo6 @them-cute-boys @lunawndrlnd @the-greatt-perhaps @babebenhardy @sofisofi1602 @smilexcaptainx

[etherealwaifgoddess]

More Time - Chpt.1

Summary: Steve’s health takes a turn for the worse prompting Bruce to suggest an unexpected solution. 

Warnings: Some sad feels

Word Count: 1.1k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! I’m going to try and post this fic daily until it’s done. Don’t know how feasible that’s going to be (I’m up for a promotion at work and have two kids at home, life is hectic) but I’m going to do my best! This is a shorty chapter but let’s at least get the ball rolling....

ICYMI: the prologue can be found HERE, and the master list is HERE.

Chapter One

Steve woke to a coughing fit for the third time that night. The red numbers glared at him from the alarm clock, 2:32am. His chest clenched as he wheezed and he begrudgingly used the inhaler he had on standby since he’d gotten a summer cold three weeks ago. “Immunocompromised” Bruce had called it, and Steve bristled at the term as much as he had at the word “elderly”. 

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky mumbled, half awake but aware enough to reach out and rub a strong hand against Steve’s back in a comforting gesture. 

Steve nodded in the dark, not quite able to speak as his lungs calmed back down. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.” He said after a minute. 

Steve woke up two more times before the sun did and Bucky decided sometime around 4am that Steve no longer had the option to refuse medical care. He text Bruce telling him he was bringing Steve in to see him and Helen Cho around nine whether Steve liked it or not. Bucky remembered the signs like it was yesterday and not eighty years ago. Steve had contracted pneumonia enough times that it was unmistakable to him even now. He’d been worried sick for the last week and a half and Steve’s health was deteriorating rapidly every day.

“I’m fine.” Steve grumbled over the cup of coffee he barely had enough strength to hold. He had drug himself out of bed around seven, giving up on the illusion of sleep. 

“The hell you are, punk. Bruce and Helen will be waiting for us at the compound around nine. You need to get checked out again, it’s too risky at your age to let it keep going like this.” 

Steve shot him a glare, he knew damn well how old he was and was tired of everyone reminding him of it. “Technically you’re still a year older than me, jerk.”

“Yeah but I spent most of the last eighty years getting my beauty rest.” 

“Jerk.” 

“Punk.”

They exchanged equally exasperated smiles but Steve knew he wasn’t winning this fight and went to get changed out of his pajamas. 

Bruce and Helen took a full few body scans as well as a series of x-rays and a vial of blood which they assured him would be incinerated as soon as the lab results were back. Steve was exhausted to the point where his hands trembled in his lap while he and Bucky sat together in the sitting room outside the lab waiting for the results. It was damn hard being old, Steve thought. His mind was still sharp but his body was failing whether he liked it or not. It was almost like things were before the serum but not quite as bad since this was the result of a long life lived well and not an unlucky roll of the dice at birth. 

Helen looked heartbroken when she rejoined them in the room outside the lab. Bruce trailed in a minute later, concentrating on the Starkpad in his hand, a conflicted expression etched on his face. He looked up at Helen and nodded.

“It’s pneumonia.” Helen said plainly. She was a good doctor and Steve respected the way she didn’t bother sugar coating things. “It’s normally treatable but your test results are concerning. We’re going to do everything modern medical science can do for you but you need to know that at your age the odds are not great.” 

Bucky tensed almost imperceptibly next to Steve, his training keeping him stock still when all he wanted to do was breakdown and scream. 

“I’ve lived a long life, doc. I know you’ll do what you can.” Steve assured her.

Bucky felt bile rising in his throat, of course Steve would try to reassure the woman who just said he was dying. He felt like every fiber of his body was being torn apart at the idea of Steve’s death. It wasn’t that he couldn't imagine a world without Steve in it, he just didn’t want to be part of it. 

“There is another option.” Bruce told them. “It’s a long shot but I think we could make it work.”

“What is it?” Bucky asked quickly. He didn’t care how slim of a chance it was, if it could possibly save Steve’s life it was worth trying.

“We could try and give a tiny boost to the serum to help fight off the infection. I have a formula I’ve been working on, in theory, obviously, and I think we could give him just enough of a boost so that the serum would help his immune system fight off the infection like it would in a healthy person.” 

“Bruce, I appreciate what you’re doing but-” Steve started but was cut off by a very pissed off former assassin. 

“Guys, will you give Steve and I a minute alone please?” Bucky bit out. 

Both Helen and Bruce left quietly and Steve sighed, waiting for Bucky to start in on him. After a moment when no verbal tirade came Steve looked over to see tears streaming down Bucky’s face. 

“Buck, I…” Steve gasped, completely unexpected for this reaction. 

“No,” Bucky told him, voice breaking, “Don’t you dare try to be brave or noble or any of that bullshit right now.” Bucky took a few steadying breaths before he continued. “I know you and I know what you’re thinking but just stop it, okay? This could buy us more time, Stevie. I knew we wouldn’t have a lifetime together but at least let Bruce try this and give me a little more time with you. I’m not ready to lose you.” Bucky let out a sob and Steve forced his aching bones to sit up tall enough that he could wrap his arms around Bucky and pull him in close to his chest. 

“I’m not ready to lose you either.” Steve said quietly into Bucky’s hair as he held him tightly. “I’m not too keen on messing with the serum, but I trust Bruce.”

“I expected more of a fight from you on this.” Bucky chuckled.

“Maybe I got smarter in my old age.” Steve quipped, “Go get Bruce so we can do whatever it is he thinks will fix this.” 

Bucky smiled up at Steve, so thankful for the sliver of hope they’d been given, and left to find the pair of doctors. 

Tag list lovelies: @godofplumsandthunder​ @remilupin22​ @supraveng​ @hiddles-rose​

If anyone wants added or removed please lmk! 

[blackhakumen]

Fanfic #32: Nice Dinner at a Nearby Barn (RWBY AU)

Oscar: (Placing Most of his belongings into a box) Thanks again for helping me cleaning out the barn and house, you guys.

Ruby: (Smiles Brightly) No Problem. I'm just glad you're were able to have a place to stay. Speaking of which, how's living with Jaune, Ren, and Nora so far?

Oscar: (Smiles Softly) Amazing. It's already been a week and I feel like I'm part of a pretty cool family.

Nora: (Smiles Brightly as She hugged Oscar) I told you we be one happy family together. Thank you so much for moving in with us, Oscar.

Oscar: (Happily Hugs Nora back) Thank you for doing whatever you can to look out for me. I'm love being with you guys.

Nora: Me too.

Ruby begins to smiles softly at this adorable display when suddenly....

Ren: (From the other Room) Guys....You might want to come in here!

And with that, The trio began rush towards the kitchen where Ren is certainly at.

In the Kitchen

Ren: (Having a look at the inside of Aunt Pine's top fridge) Interesting.....

*Door Opens*

Nora: (Walked I the kitchen along woth Ruby and Oscar) Ren, is everything alright in here?

Ren: Yes, but...well...(Turns to Oscar) Oscar.

Oscar: Hm?

Ren: Have you by any chance looked inside the top of refrigerator before your Aunt's passing?

Oscar: Not really-(Eyes Begin to Widened once Took One Look at all of Frozen, Contained Foods inside the top of the fridge) ......where the heck did all of these meals came from?

Ren: (Took Each of these meals from the fridge one by one) If I had to guess...I'd say she made these quite a while.

Nora: You think we should bring these to our apartment and put 'em in the freezer?

Ruby: I don't think that's a good idea, Nora. Refreezing these would not only removes moisture, but it could also create ice crystals and the fibers of the meat that could easily compromise their taste and texture.

Ren and Nora: (Look at Ruby sideways)........

Ruby: (Blush a little while sighing) My dad's been taking Culinary Science in his freetime lately. I think I might be rubbing off on him...

Nora: Well if we can't put these foods into a freezer, what are we gonna do with them then?

Oscar: (Looking over the last bit of Frozen Foods his Aunt made before her passing) ....................

Ruby: (Looking Over towards Oscar with a Worried Look on her face) Oscar? Sweetie, are you okay?

Oscar: .....This maybe too much to ask for but....(Turns Around and with Small Smile) How about we invite our friends over here for dinner? It'll be like Aunt Elm would be feeding us...one last time, you know?

Nora: (Almost Feels like She's Moving in Tears) Oscar..... That sounds like a wonderful idea!

Ruby: (Smiles Softly) Yeah. We would love that very much.

Ren: I'll help prepare the meal for the evening. I know I'm nowhere near as good as your aunt or anything, but it's still worth a try.

Oscar: (Smile Grew a little more bigger) Thanks, you guys. (Sighed as he took one look at one of his Aunt's Frozen Meal) You know it's funny...My aunt would always try making meals for the both of us whenever each of us gets tired from a long day of Farm work.....(Begins to Frown a little) Can't believe that this is going to be the last time we'll ever get to see her cooking again for a long time....

Ruby, Ren, and Nora immediately gave Oscar a loving group hug.

Oscar: (Taken Aback from a Sudden Group Hug) H-Hey. You guys don't have to worry. I'll be okay.

Ruby: We know you will, Oscar....

Ren: ...And we're going to do whatever we can to be by your side....

Nora: ...Because you mean the world to all us, sweetie pie.

Oscar: (Can Feel a few Tears Falling down his face as he Smiles again) (Where would I be without you guys?...)

Later That Evening.....

Nora: (Enjoying Aunt Elm's Food that Ren Prepared for) Oh my gosh, Renny!~ These taste Amazing!!~

Jaune: (Enjoying the Food as well) Eating Mrs. Pine's cooking mix with Ren's cooking skills....('Sigh Dreamingly') It's like I'm already in heaven.....

Oscar: (Satisfied with the Food Ren prepared for them) All of these came out great, Ren. Thank you.

Ren: (Smiles Softly) It's really no problem at all, Oscar. I'm just glad I was able to prepare something you all would love.

Sun: (Smiles Brightly) You gotta tell your secrets on this, dude! How are you able to cook THIS good?

Neptune: (Smiles Brightly) Yeah, bro! Have you been some kind of Grandmaster Chef this entire time?

Ren: (Chuckles Lightly) Well, I'm not really much of a bragger or anything, but I will say that I've learned how to cook ever since I was a-

Blake: I still can't believe you would try and take all credit like that!!

Weiss: ('Scoffs') Please. Like you actually came up with the idea to begin with!

Oscar: (Whispers Towards Ruby and Yang) Okay am I missing something here or...

Yang: (Facepalms while Sighing) Weiss and Blake worked on this Science Project a couple of days ago and Weiss got more praise for it than Blake did yesterday. They've been at each other's throats ever since...

Weiss: (Crosses her arms) Don't mind us, everyone. Blake here is just making a huge deal about nothing yet again.

Blake: You always do this to me, Weiss. Whenever we get paired up together to do a project, I would do all the work, while you did little to nothing and try getting credit for it.

Weiss: That is absolutely not true! I'll have you know that I've done a lot of work as well.

Blake: (Crosses her arms in disbelief) Really? In which project?

Weiss: Well there is one project we'd....uh....o-or how about the one where we.....er.....I-I mean....

Blake: See? You're already proving my prove.

Weiss: (Blushes in Embarrassment) Am not!! I...I just... couldn't think of one as of right now....

Blake: (Rolled her Eyes) I swear....You think just because your a daughter of a millionaire family that you could get away from doing actually work by popularity status...

Weiss: I have the grades to back that calm up! And besides, at least I don't cause my parents any stress because of your little rebellious and gothic attitude.

Blake: (Pick up a plate of her food) You wanna go right here, Schnee?

Weiss: (Picks up her plate as well) Bring it, Belladonna!

Ruby: Guys!!

Nora: (Slam Both of her hands on the table) ENOUGH!!

Blake/Weiss: (Immediately Stop what they were about to do and gave Nora their attention)

Nora: (Got up from the table) Weiss. Blake. In the kitchen. NOW! (Walk Towards the kitchen door and open it)

Weiss and Blake Silently got up from the table and walk towards the kitchen where Nora is waiting.

Weiss: (Whisper to Blake) She said your name first. That must rubbed you off the wall, doesn't it?

Blake: (Rolled her eyes as she and Weiss made her way into the kitchen) Oh shut up.

'Door Close'

Nora: (In the Kitchen) I don't know what the hell is into you two toady, but this is a very difficult time for my baby right now!! We're eating the last dinner that his aunt has ever made, and you two were going to throw it at each other like a bunch of children?!!! Whatever it is you're fighting about, put that aside, go back in there and be respectful towards everyone including my son, AND THERE WILL BE NO DESERT FOR EITHER OF YOU FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT!!! Hey!! Blake Belladonna, LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!! And don't think just because we're almost the same age that you could.......(Continues Yelling)

Oscar: (Hearing Every Bit of Nora's Yelling from the other side of the room) Hey so.....I never really thought about this until now but....you guys ever think that Nora is starting to become like an actual mom lately?

Ruby: Now you mentioned it....She has been acting a lot motherly as of late...

Jaune: Tell me about it. Ever since Oscar moved in with us, she's been taking that role pretty well....A little too well if you ask me...

Yang: Judging by the way she's yelling at Weiss and Blake's ears off in there, she is doing one hell of a job being one right now.....

Ren: (Shrugged) She's only doing what she can for Oscar.

Oscar: Wait... She's acting this way...for me?

Ren: Exactly. Before we decided to ask you to moved in with us, Nora made a vowed to be a good Role Model and Mother Figure to you to this day forward. (Smiles Softly at Oscar) You mean the world to her, Oscar.

Oscar: (Slowly Begins to Smile Himself after Thinking about the times Nora was always there for him) Yeah....I think I'm starting to believe that too....This has to be weirdest thing I'm gonna say but.....I think Nora's going to be a great mom someday.

Everyone that is still present at the Dinning table happily agrees to that statement as they finish their food while Nora continues to yell at Weiss and Blake in the kitchen for almost ruining her baby's dinner.

@keyenuta

@miki-13

@maripr

@ma-lemons

@littlemisssquiggles

@oscarpineprotectionsquad

@miraculouscorazone

[tacitusauxilium]

Angst/Comfort/Fluff Marie/Fuuka drabble for mun

Marie rolled her eyes, as she watched Shinjiro and Fuuka argue again, finish with nothing resolved (as usual), and Shinjiro leaving their apartment, with Fuuka moping. Every week they argue about the same thing. Shinjiro’s kidneys and liver are failing, thanks to the pills from Takaya, and he’s insistent on not doing anything about it. Meaning he’d die. And he’s oddly content with that. Fuuka well, isn’t.

She honestly wondered for a while what did Fuuka see in him? Cause all he brings is headaches. Fuuka and her are rooming, and Shinjiro, while being Fuuka’s boyfriend, didn’t tend to stay; mostly because Marie managed to make him leave.

Marie doesn’t hate Shinjiro. When he’s not in his brooding moods, he can be someone worthwhile to talk to. But whenever he’s brooding (which is…a lot, unfortunately), he’s just intolerable, and she’s talked about it with Fuuka before. To no surprise, Fuuka insists on ‘changing him’.

Marie blatantly told her “Teal, you don’t change people like him. They’re damaged goods.”

Just hearing those words almost made Fuuka slap Marie. She held back…on principle. “You don’t know him Marie-chan.”

Marie rolled her eyes, almost tempted to scoff. “Yeah Teal. I do. We both know it’s an excuse, because you don’t want to admit that-“

“-It’s late, and I don’t want to discuss this.” Fuuka was quick to interrupt, though Marie could see Fuuka vividly shaking, and nearly holding back from tearing up. “So, if you EXCUSE ME Marie-chan.” Fuuka stormed off and slammed the door to her room shut and locked it.

Marie sighed. She rubbed her temples, annoyed. ‘For all your genius Teal, you can be incredibly naïve…you don’t ‘fix’ people. End of story.’

Fuuka didn’t talk to her for a week, and even then, conversations weren’t long. Marie was honestly getting sick of the cold shoulder treatment. She wasn’t the villain in this, and she didn’t have to take this treatment from Fuuka. She can love Shinjiro all she wants, but ‘fixing’ him is not something she’s obligated to do in the first place. If he wants to die, that’s on him, not her.

“Teal, I want to talk.”

“Not now Marie-chan.”

Oh, she knows that tone. The ‘I know where this is going, and I don’t want it’ tone. Too bad Marie is having none of that today.

Before Fuuka could enter her room, Marie flicked her fingers. A strong gust of wind shut the door. “I’m not giving you an option.” Marie spoke colder this time. She motions to the sofa.

Fuuka was tempted to tell her no. Out of daring, she tried to open the door to her room. Locked. …Must have locked it with the wind.

Defeated, and slightly angered, Fuuka storms to the sofa and sits, glaring at Marie. “What is it Marie-chan?” the irritation in her voice practically screams ‘get over with it already.’

Marie decided to just get to the point. “We didn’t finish the discussion last week. You know, the one you cut me off cause ‘you didn’t want to discuss it’.”

Fuuka nods “Well there you go; I don’t want to discuss.” Of course, Marie would bring that up. Fuuka didn’t want to hear whatever Marie has to say. Its not her problem to begin with.

“Well I do.” Marie deadpanned, tempted to do a mocking tone. She held back. “Because I’m worried-“

“Oh, NOW you’re concerned?” Fuuka retorts before Marie can even finish; and rather angrily at that. “Because last I checked, Shinjiro-kun is not YOUR boyfriend.”

Marie didn’t care for the glare, and only crosses her arms in return. “Worried about YOU, Teal. Not him. YOU.”

Fuuka grimaced, partially guilty for snapping like that…but still on-edge. “I’m doing fine Marie-chan.”

“Except that you’re not.” Marie rebuts. “You’re more exhausted than you’ve ever been, and I know its not because of Crimson. She works you hard, but not hard enough to literally zap away the enthusiasm out of you. You force yourself to eat, and sometimes you even forget to bathe. I have to freaking remind you. You’re not adulting very well Teal.”

Fuuka bit her lip, knowing where this was going. “And I thank you for that Marie-chan, but I’m doing-“

“You need to drop the ‘fix’ act on Hobo, or just dump him.”

And there it is. The smoking gun that Fuuka didn’t want to hear. Fuuka trembled, the anger inside her, the stress and anxiety from the last few weeks of arguing with Shinjiro, Mitsuru’s constant work stress, Marie’s nagging…its all started to boil inside her in an ugly way.

Between wanting to throw something at Marie (the jar right now looks tempting), and tackling her, Fuuka decided to not…do either of those. She just glared at Marie harder, practically fuming. “My relationship with Shinjiro is not your business Marie-chan. Stay out of it.” That last part came out more as a threat than anything else.”  

But Marie wasn’t going to have any of Fuuka’s excuses, or empty threats as is. The situation is at its breaking limit, and if Marie can’t make Fuuka understand now, then she never will. “Except that it is.” Marie deadpanned, not fazed by Fuuka’s mild attempt at a threat. “We’re roommates in case you forgot. We have each other’s backs, and if someone is falling, we help the other back up. And right now- “ Marie points at Fuuka “You Teal, are gonna hit the floor hard by taking on more than you can handle.”

Not that Fuuka wanted to be touched by Marie’s words, but right now her distress and anger are clouding that, sadly. “Well maybe if I could help Shinjiro with-“

“There’s no helping damaged goods Teal.”

SNAP

Those words again. Those damn words Fuuka has heard about Shinjiro from so many people. She didn’t want to believe Marie would say them too. She didn’t want to think that Marie would be on their side, and not hers.

She was wrong all along. Marie sees Shinjiro like everyone else does, not like she does; and she hates that so much.

“HE IS NOT DAMAGED GOODS!” Fuuka didn’t even realize how loud she yelled that. The tears that have been welling up inside her, escape like a dam leaking as she stood up to stand tall over Marie. “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND HIM LIKE I DO MARIE-CHAN, NONE OF YOU FREAKING DO, OR EVEN TRY TO! YOU ALL JUST JUDGE HIM CAUSE NONE OF YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH WHAT HE DOES! HE NEEDS HELP MY HELP!”

Marie certainly wasn’t expecting Fuuka to blow up. It was worse than she thought, but at the same time, it has to be done. “Cause there’s nothing to understand!”

“YES, THERE IS!” Fuuka’s practically bawling now. In sadness, in rage, in loss of being heard. Not that there was anything to be heard, but Fuuka didn’t want to admit that. “SHINJIRO-“

‘-Is a grown man.” Marie finished. “He’s 22 years old. He’s an adult.” Marie stands up, not intimidated by Fuuka of all people. “He can take care of himself and his own problems, and if he doesn’t want your help, the best you can do is respect his decision, instead of forcing yourself in. Because as you said Teal, he’s your boyfriend. You’re not his mother, you don’t have to dote his every decision or criticize his every action. You can talk to him about it, but he has to make the decision himself on what he wants to do.” Marie pauses for a moment, noticing that her words are having an effect on Fuuka. Her anger is leaving her; and reasoning is hitting hard. “…If he doesn’t want to do the organ transplant to save his liver and kidney’s Teal, then that’s…his decision, even if it means him dying.” She slowly, carefully walks over to Fuuka. She stopped crying, but the dam is certainly not done leaking.

“It doesn’t mean you failed as his girlfriend.”

Fuuka knew, deep down that every word Marie said was the truth. The cold, hard, harsh truth that she wanted to deny for so long. When she learned of Shinjiro’s condition, she just told him to get the organ transplant, problem solved. But he refused. Fuuka honestly believed that he was simply scared; and with some light pushing and motivations. But that only made Shinjiro more aggressive, and Fuuka couldn’t comprehend why. Why wouldn’t he want to live? Sure, he’d be bedridden for a few weeks, but it wouldn’t be anything serious.

Then in one of their arguments, he dropped it. Miki Sanada.

15 years. 15 years, and despite everything, every effort to move forward…Shinjiro fell back to step 1. He can’t let go, he REFUSES to let go, and their arguments the last few weeks have been about that. But every, one of them ended in failure for Fuuka.

Shinjiro can’t let go. End of story. Fuuka adamantly refused to accept that, with every fiber of her being and hoped to smash common freaking sense into Shinjiro. She tried, tried, and tried again. Against Mitsuru’s complacency, against Akihiko’s acceptance, against Yukari’s pity…

Against Marie’s truth.

That wasn’t the case. She couldn’t…because Shinjiro wouldn’t accept that. Not then, not now…possibly not ever.

Shinjiro would have a year to live, and that was it. Nothing else to discuss except his funeral arrangements.

Fuuka could see it now, see it happen, see it go, and see it fade. Her dreams, her future, her wishes.

Marie held onto Fuuka as she finally let go, and sobbed loudly onto her arms, hugging her roommate and dear friend for dear life. Marie sighed, wishing it hadn’t come to this…but it did. For all odds, for all the bridges built…all for nothing.

About 10 minutes later, Fuuka fell asleep on Marie’s arms. Marie carefully lifts her and carries her back to her room (after opening the door with the wind of course). She tucked Fuuka in, and let her sleep…

About 4 hours later in the evening, Marie heard the shower turn on…must be Fuuka. She had already bathed and is watching TV, clad in a simple long shirt that reaches her thighs and underwear.

Minutes later, Fuuka sits next to her, wearing a nightgown and underwear. Her hair is also loosened, not braided like usual. “…Hi…” Fuuka shyly spoke.

“Hey.” Marie greets her normally. “Sleep well?”

Fuuka nodded. “Uhu…thank you…Marie-chan. For earlier.”

Marie raised an eyebrow. “You’re thanking me? You were pretty angry.”

“…I kind of am…still.” Fuuka sighed, hands on her lap. “But not at you…rather at me. …You were right, about everything.” She sniffed. “I hate feeling this way…so helpless, worse…knowing you want to help but the help is not accepted.” She looks at Marie, a despondent gaze over her normally starry teal eyes. “…Ever since I can remember, I wanted someone, anyone to accept me. Not as a lover, but as a friend, a companion, to never leave me alone. Shinjiro…” she bit her lip “I-I thought…I felt…” she raised her hand and gripped her chest; heart still aching. “…I wanted a family…” she nearly broke again when she said that.

“…But now that’s impossible.” Marie finished for her. However, Fuuka shook her head.

“I didn’t mention it before, but in one of our arguments…Shinjiro plain told me, that he didn’t want to be a father.” A few tears left her. “I was so hurt…I slapped him.” She confessed. “It was the first time I did that. He didn’t even react. He just walked away…and I hated that. I wish he had said something, dome something, even slap me back, I didn’t care. I just…” Fuuka gritted her teeth. “I wanted him to acknowledge that there was something between us, and I wasn’t just his…fuck toy!” she yelled. “But nothing…! And I just…” she sniffed, wiping away her tears “I thought I emptied myself out…”

She’s surprised when Marie hands her a handkerchief. “You never truly do.” She smiles at her. “The pain doesn’t go away after a few hours Teal. You’ll heal…in due time. With words, with action, with acceptance. You kind of did the last one.”

“…kind of.” Fuuka smiles back, blushing slightly as she takes the handkerchief, and wipes away her tears…and blows her nose. “Better…” she sniffs. “Much better.” Awkwardly, she looks at the handkerchief, then at Marie.

“Hamper.” Marie deadpanned. Fuuka nodded, not arguing there that’s for sure. “So, what do you want to do?”

“…I…” Fuuka frowned. “…I want to talk to him one last time. If…if he really wants this…then that will be it. I’ll break up with him, and I’ll respect his decision. …But that doesn’t mean I will stand by him. This is his path to take, and I guess…I’ll walk my path; with or without him. I’ll…endure.” At least, Fuuka lied to herself, for now. She’s still in pain after all. “I…kinda wanna drink something, and just go back to bed.”

Marie nodded. “Sure. Go ahead Teal, I’ll go to sleep a little later.”

“��Mm…yeah.” Fuuka folded the handkerchief and stared at it. “…You know Marie-chan…you’ve been good to me.” She looks at her. “You listen to me rant, you let me scream at you, but you don’t disrespect me. You understand, you listen…” she blushed. “…I’m happy to have you as a roommate, and a friend.” She reached out to Marie and hugged her. “…It means a lot to me that you have stayed, more than words can possibly say.”

The hug surprised Marie, but she wasn’t in any position to argue. She returns the hug, sighing. “You’re welcome Teal, anytime.”

“Mmm…” Fuuka nuzzled onto Marie, adoring her warmth right now, and her faint scent of blueberry, her favorite fruit. “…Marie-chan…?”

“Yeah?”

“…Thank you.” Fuuka looked up to Marie, eyes shining with the moon. She did something she didn’t think she would do. She pressed her lips onto Marie’s softly. A kiss…warm, tender…it filled Fuuka with a desire she long missed, needed. She pulled back, blushing. “…I-I mean it…” she said shyly, not believing she even did that. What possessed her to do that?

Marie certainly didn’t know and didn’t want to ask…mostly because she gets the feeling that Fuuka is not in her right mind right now and is looking for warmth. Best she can do is give it…for now, at least until Fuuka can stand up again. Until she can heal. She can be that healing potion.

Not that Fuuka is her first kiss with a girl, but that’s a story for another time. Marie let Fuuka nuzzle her, cuddle her…until Marie heard Fuuka’s light snores.

Chuckling, Marie carefully lifted Fuuka, and brought her back to her room. This time however, she closed the door behind her (after turning all the lights off), and carefully drops Fuuka on the bed. She tucks herself in with Fuuka (Who hasn’t let go of Marie), and watches Fuuka sleep peacefully. If Marie was certain, this is the most peaceful sleep Fuuka has had in a while.

Marie pressed her lips on Fuuka’s forehead. “Sweet dreams Teal…” Marie whispered, and closed her eyes, embracing Fuuka in return. Its been a long day, and both girls need their rest, for what will come tomorrow.

…………………………..

Fuuka and Marie spent a long night together…

[amandaoftherosemire]

Lightning Strikes Part Eight

Fandom: Marvel Avengers AU

Pairing: Thor Odinson X Reader

Characters: Thor Odinson, Loki Odinson, Valkyrie, OFC Astrid, OMC Halvar

Author: @amandaoftherosemire​

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5,692

Format: Series (Complete)

Warning: Language, angst

Summary: Thor spends some time brooding and missing you. You deal with Loki and a gift you’re pretty sure you don’t want.

A/N: I don’t know if marijuana helps creativity, but I do know I was high when I wondered what it would look like if Korg and Miek tried to put together IKEA furniture. I also know that imagining it made me laugh so hard I fell off my couch.

Part Seven: Sublimation here

Aphelion

Thor sat in the giant leather executive chair behind the enormous oak desk in his office, staring resentfully out the window. He liked this chair. Tony had sent it to him in pieces for some reason, but Miek and Korg had managed, over the course of a week and with only one bout of tears, to assemble it into a sturdy throne.

He was grateful, both to Korg and Miek for the assembly, but also to Tony for the thoughtfulness. He hadn't understood why Tony had laughed so hard when he'd thanked him for the chair that shared a name with one of Thor's great-uncles, but he appreciated the gift regardless.

He especially liked that he could put his hands behind his head and rest them against the wings of leather around him. It was the most comfortable way to hate Tuesdays.

Thor despised Tuesday afternoons with every fiber of his being. The only thing keeping the clouds from smothering the hated sunshine pouring through the window was Thor's determined effort to not call them. His mood would have drawn the thunderstorm long before otherwise. Still, he couldn't punish others for his mistakes.

Even the pilot of the jet from New York, the cause of all this hate and resentment.

Tuesday afternoons the jet from New York came, unloaded, reloaded, then left. He knew now that hadn't been the plan. The plan had been for the jet to stay, along with the only joy he'd found after the loss of his home. He hated Tuesdays because it was supposed to be the day you came back to him. Instead, because he had been a fool and a coward, that jet held nothing he wanted anymore.

He was especially infuriated with himself because he’d known better. He'd known you were even more loyal than you were beautiful within only a few days in your company. If he'd asked himself, he would have been certain he could trust you, down to his bones. But he'd allowed the poison his father’s advisers had dripped into his ear to convince him to assign his newly appointed spymaster to the task.

Thor had already decided to ask you to live with him when the final report had been submitted along with a snotty lecture about hypocrisy. Loki had concluded that your loyalty to Thor was unassailable and suggested that those who had been so worried about a human spy in their midst might perhaps have things to hide.

If only he’d told you the truth before you’d found out for yourself in such an awful way. You were so amazing, so understanding of all the fucking bullshit that went hand in hand with his birthright, his burden. If he’d told you the truth, explained the why of it, apologized, perhaps you’d be coming home right now.

“What time is it?” The lump currently taking up space on the couch under the window spoke from under the purple and yellow baseball cap. Her long legs were tightly encased in jeans and crossed at the calves stretched out across the couch. Her arms were crossed, and she’d pulled the cap down to cover her eyes.

Until she spoke, Thor had thought she’d been asleep.

He glanced at the clock, then answered with a sigh, “Five after two.”

To his astonishment, she sat up immediately, pushing the cap back to reveal the dark beauty underneath. “Shit, she'll be here soon.” With that, Valkyrie jumped to her feet and headed with long strides toward the door.

Thor shook himself out of his brood, suspicious of her sudden leap into action. “Who will?”

“The jet from New York should have something for me.” Valkyrie wasn't going to stop, but the look of astonishment had her pausing at the door and rolling her eyes. She adored Thor, but he had a weird habit of dissociating when he was depressed. Not a terribly great characteristic in a king, but at least he wasn't a homicidal maniac.

Still, she considered it part of her duties to kick Thor in the ass whenever he needed it. She'd decided.

He needed it.

He'd brooded long enough. He was obviously not going to get over you, so it was time for him to try to win you back. To be truthful, Valkyrie liked you immensely. Your reaction to what had happened had earned her respect. Spending time with you had earned her friendship. Bringing her delicious top-shelf liquor had earned her undying love.

“Your majesty, you might want to actually look out that window from time to time," she sneered, "or actually talk to your people." At this, pure disdain settled onto her face and had Thor fully paying attention to her. "You know, instead of only listening to the idiots that appointed themselves the people's representatives.”

The next second, she was gone, the door closing with a slam behind her. Thor turned his chair back to the window and stared at a cloud that hung perfectly framed by the panes of glass. He frowned, mulling over Valkyrie's words, her tone, her expressions. He started to wonder what he would see if he walked to the window and looked out. What could be happening out there?

Not much later, Thor was getting to his feet and wandering over to the window. As he did, the Wakandan jet that had been meant to bring his heart back to him was settling down on the helipad at the back of the manor house. To his surprise, a crowd of Asgardian children were running toward the jet cheering, with his brother, Astrid, and Valkyrie following behind at a walk.

When the hatch opened and you walked out, lovely legs in tight jeans and boots, a t-shirt with Captain America's shield emblazoned across your breasts, and a bright smile for the crowd there to greet you, Thor felt the loss of you like a physical stab to the gut, a spasm of pain rocking through him. Had he been sitting here hating the world every Tuesday when you were right outside his house the whole time?

Part of him wanted to run outside, snatch you up, and imprison you in his bedroom until he could convince you that he hadn't meant any of it. He wanted to apologize, swear he hadn't needed a shred of proof to believe in you. He wanted to show you he regretted it more than almost anything he'd ever done, promise he'd never hurt you like that again. He held himself back, knowing that he had no right to even a moment of your time. He also had a healthy respectful fear of you and was certain you'd find a way to make him regret such high-handed behavior. In all the realms, he'd never met another like you.

In all his centuries, he'd never loved another the way he loved you.

That you stood in his kingdom despite it all gave him hope that you would listen if he ran outside and begged for your forgiveness. Whether you'd forgive him or not, you'd at least hear him out. You were too fair, too kind to do otherwise. But Thor had decided that fate had spoken. He was meant to let you go. He could never give you everything you deserved. As such, he would not be so selfish as to beg you to return to him. Even if he deserved you, you deserved more.

Thor frowned when you embraced all three adults, even as the children milled around you. You even took Loki's face in your hands and pulled his cheek down for a kiss, smiling into his eyes.

How the FUCK had his brother weaseled his way back into your good graces when Thor hadn't even known you were in his kingdom?

You ducked back inside the jet only to emerge a few moments later holding an open box. Fascinated, Thor watched you start pulling out items from said box and passing them to the children who still circled you expectantly.

This had become one of your favorite parts of the week. Despite the fact that visiting New Asgard sent a spasm of pain, anger, and regret through you every time you arrived and every time you left, there was still joy to be found here.

After you and Thor had broken up, Pepper had made it clear that they could easily assign another pilot to the New Asgard run. She’d have worked with you in any way you needed to make things okay after what had happened, feeling responsible since she’d asked you to entertain Loki. You’d considered letting her rearrange things for you once again, though you didn’t blame her at all. She had only been concerned with keeping the peace and would have never knowingly put you in such a position.

You thought about walking away from New Asgard and everyone in it. It would have been easier.

Easier wasn’t better, though. You’d wanted the new job, the new responsibilities. You’d been excited to take on new challenges and you didn’t see any reason to let Thor stand in the way of that. You’d never let a failed relationship dictate your behavior in the past; you didn’t see any reason to start now.

Which is how, over the past few months, you’d made an odd little place for yourself on the periphery of Asgardian society. At first, it had only been Astrid to come greet you every Tuesday. Then, Halvar had come with questions about Midgard candy.

Halvar was a small child with a shock of blond hair, bright blue eyes, and ridiculously charming dimples. He looked to be about seven years old, but you weren’t sure how Asgardian aging worked so he could be older than you in years for as far as you knew.

He had surprised you on your fourth Tuesday run when he’d tapped gently on your arm. You’d been supervising the cargo trade and pointedly ignoring the dark god that grinned at you from the balcony. You’d been trying not to notice the other conspicuous absence.

Halvar had been designated by the children as their representative. As such, he had come to ask what the King’s Midgardian lady might know of something called chocolate.

You had been delighted to tell him everything you knew. The following Tuesday, a small group of Asgardian children were waiting for you to ask further questions. Instead, they were rewarded with their first taste of milk chocolate. You’d started simple, with high-quality plain chocolate squares from your favorite chocolatier in New York.

The look of wonder that crossed each sweet little face as the flavor hit made up for the fifth week in a row that you’d seen neither hide nor hair of Thor. Astrid’s near sexual moan of pleasure as she sampled the sweet had you laughing out loud and lifted some of the clouds that still hung around you. That had been the beginning of a routine, and a new place for you on the fringe of Asgardian society.

You’d somehow become their connection for Midgard specialties. You were more than happy to help with special requests, which is why your cargo on this day included first edition books for Loki, insanely expensive moisturizer for Astrid, hundred-year-old scotch for Valkyrie.

And a box full of packets of Fun Dip for the children.

You'd discovered when looking for a retail outlet that sold candy in bulk that you could not simply buy the dipping sticks by themselves and found it offensive to the point of heresy. Why did we even invent the internet?

The children, under the watchful eye of both Astrid and Valkyrie (Loki didn't care, and the children knew it), were waiting patiently as you tore the tops off and placed the lik-a-stik in each little hand. Halvar received an approving look from you when he nibbled a little at the end once you had the children taste them. You and that kid were simpatico, for all you were born on different planets.

When he placed the stick covered in powder in his mouth, then looked at the sugar stick like he preferred it by itself, you laughed out loud. Halvar was a pistol; you could tell he was going to be a force to be reckoned with based on the streak of stubborn you could see in the set of his chin. You wouldn't be surprised if he ran his parents ragged now.

Thor couldn't tell what exactly you were doing, but it looked like you were sharing some treat with the crowd that assembled around you. Even the Asgardians unloading the jet stopped to try whatever you had brought. To their king's astonishment, they seemed to be easy with you, their body language speaking of joking and the good-natured jostling of camaraderie.

As the cargo trade finished, the children wandered off, little paper pouches in their hands. He watched you trade hugs with Astrid, the housemaid, and Valkyrie, before they walked away, both carrying boxes you'd given them. Loki dawdled, however, making Thor's eye narrow in suspicion.

Once the two of you were alone, Loki stepped forward. He'd noticed your gaze avoiding the house and inwardly smirked. Even you had your tells. Your stubborn affection for his idiot of a brother gave you away when little else did. Loki knew you were still in love with the oaf, though you no longer scanned for his approach with anxious but hopeful eyes.

Loki was well aware that Thor could win you back easily. All he'd have to do is be honest about what he'd done, why he'd done it, and how he felt about it and you'd end up forgiving him. He'd never met a harder bitch with a softer center. You loved Thor. You hadn't stopped.

Loki had absolutely no intention of telling Thor any of that. He also hadn't told Thor that you visited New Asgard every Tuesday. Nor had he told his brother that you and he were friends again. He'd kept to himself his suspicions that you were slowly being absorbed into the soldier and his feral dog's relationship. There were worlds of information he hadn't shared with Thor when it came to you.

For example…

"Your turn, dear one," he said with a wicked smile and a flourish, bringing a box of his own into view. His, however, was made of wood almost black with age. The surface was carved over its entire surface with symbols and sigils that could be read by only a few people even within the borders of New Asgard.

You looked at the box that had shimmered into being in Loki's hand with a skeptically raised eyebrow. Whatever was in it, you already felt like Pandora just looking at it. "Uh-huh, what's in it?" you asked, a half smile curving your mouth, and made no move to take it.

Loki's smile widened. He loved how affectionate you were in your complete mistrust of him. You believed nothing he said without question, but you also seemed to always react with humor rather than anger. At least since you'd stopped punishing him for his earlier deceptions. Truthfully, you'd been remarkably forgiving for that considering that he hadn't apologized.

"A present for you, love." Loki had stopped bothering to pretend he didn't adore you. He could have maintained the pretense that he had only befriended you to spy for Thor, but he saw no reason to deprive himself of your company.

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. "Is it a present I want? Or are you fucking with me?"

"Yes?" Loki looked earnest, but you could tell by the twinkle in his eye that he was teasing you.

Still a touch reluctant, you reached out to take the box. Hopefully, you weren't going to regret this. You examined the box, discovering when you went to open it that it appeared to be one solid piece of wood. "What is this?"

"A choice." Loki's eyes were dancing and making you vaguely nervous. "I'll tell you how to open it later."

"Okay." You scowled at him, tucking the box under your arm. "It's not gonna blow up or anything, right?" You were asking mostly for form; you didn't really think Loki would put you in harm's way. You were pretty sure he had a soft spot for you, but you couldn’t be certain of anything when it came to the Odinson brothers anymore.

Loki's eyes softened ever so slightly and reassured you before he even opened his mouth. He was thinking it was a shame that remaining loyal to his brother had meant betraying you. He didn’t mind that you didn’t trust him, but he disliked that you were no longer sure of his affection for you. He would not have had it so.

“Of course not, dear one," he replied with a slow, wicked smile. "How would that entertain me?"

"I'm not going to give you ideas for how to make blowing me up entertaining." You turned with a roll of your eyes and began to walk toward the jet. Loki followed you, laughing, to place a hand on your shoulder. Spinning you around, he gave you one of his rare hugs.

"Don't try to open it without me," he said as he pulled back to frown sternly at you. "Promise me."

"Okay," you retorted, sneering a little, "weirdo, I promise."

Loki smiled again, knowing you, at least, could be counted upon to keep your promises. He reached out to brush the backs of those long, artist's fingers down your cheek. "I'll see you soon, love." Once Loki had started calling you 'love', you'd realized that the tone, the timbre of his voice was the same as it had been on the word 'pet'. You weren't sure to feel worse about the new endearment or better about the old.

Because it made your heart hurt, you opted not to think about it. If he didn't care for you, nothing about your current situation changed. If he meant it, if he truly did have a soft spot for you, to call it into question would hurt him unnecessarily. You didn't want to hurt Loki, or Thor for that matter. You just wanted to stop hurting, yourself.

"I can't wait," you said, sardonically, a wry half-smile on your lips to soften your sarcasm. "I gotta go. I want to get ahead of the storm."

For a fraction of a second, Loki didn't understand. When he did, he wanted to laugh aloud. His brother's timing was almost perfect, as per usual. He leaned in and brushed his mouth quickly, chastely against yours. You didn't respond, simply stared at him in astonishment. He smiled wickedly, causing your expression to shift into amused exasperation.

You didn't know what Loki was up to, but you were sure you wanted no part of it. You decided not to get in any deeper than you already were. "Goodbye, Loki," you called out as you turned away again. The last thing you heard as the hatch closed behind you was the sound of the god's mischievous laughter.

As Loki walked back to the manor house, he looked up to meet Thor's furious gaze in the window on the third floor.

Loki smiled.

Thor sat on the cliffs, watching the clouds boil. He knew he should rein it in, that his people as well as those across the fjord didn't deserve to bear the brunt of his foul temper. He couldn't do it, though, too lost in bitter pain and rage. He'd held off as long as he could, but the storm in his blood would be denied no longer.

He wasn’t the sort of man who enjoyed dwelling on the mistakes of the past. He knew he’d go mad if he spent too much time looking back. As long lived as his kind was, they had ample opportunity for regret. The only way to survive was to look forward.

Considering the mistakes he’d made in recent years, why this one should plague him so was a mystery. Even before he’d laid eyes on you once again, he’d been tormented by the loss of you.

Now, however, he'd been reminded of the sparkle of your smile, the arrogance in your walk, that sexy hip-shot stance in response to any challenge. He missed you so much it was like a physical ache. Knowing you were only a quick flight away had been torture. To now know that you visited his home every single week was agony. The temptation to go crawling back to you, begging for another chance was going to be excruciating.

The only reason he hadn't yet was he'd thought you'd be happier away from him and the insanity that followed him. Only now he'd discovered that you had remained friends with Astrid, become friends with Valkyrie, and become friends, again, with his blasted brother. Thor had been denying himself the pleasure of your company only to discover that not a single member of his household had done the same.

The confrontation with Loki had been ugly, for a lot of reasons, not least of which was that Loki had the moral high ground for once. He'd never pretended to be anything but what he was, an unrepentant liar and trickster, which is why, apparently, you had let him back into your good graces. Thor doubted he'd find it so easy to win you back.

Because for all his brother's flaws, he'd been absolutely correct. Loki had been oddly honest with you, proving his affection. He would not have bothered to give you what honesty he could in the midst of a deception had he not cared about you. Thor wasn't the least surprised that you could see that. You saw Loki more clearly than most.

Unfortunately for him, you'd seen only what Thor had wanted you to see. The day you'd found out he'd asked Loki to spy on you for him was etched with painful clarity across his memory. You had been utterly blindsided, had not even considered suspecting him of subterfuge before that moment. He had seen the betrayal on your face, was so intimately familiar with the pain of that emotion, he'd been unable to offer any defense beyond the weakest expression of remorse.

You had been unimpressed, and rightly so. If he had it to do over again, he'd tell you he never really distrusted you. He'd heard no end of mindless fearmongering from his father's advisers and had believed none of it. He'd fully expected Loki to prove you true, had in fact counted on it. He'd wanted to quiet their groundless terrors once and for all.

And that was all information he should have shared with you long before you found out by overhearing he and his brother arguing about it. If he had it to do over again, he'd have faced you with the truth as soon as Loki had given the final report to said advisers. He'd betrayed you twice; you'd been right to walk away.

Thor had let you go for a reason, and that reason hadn't changed. He carried nothing but pain with him. He'd already hurt you enough; he wouldn't risk hurting you again.

"Okay," you sneered at the man that had just shimmered into being on the couch in the living area of your quarters at the Avengers compound. "What bullshit are you up today?" You nodded at the piquant box he'd given you earlier in the day on the coffee table in front of the couch. You'd set it there and waited, knowing Loki would be paying you one of his hologram visits before your day was over.

You weren't disappointed, though it was much later than you expected, closer to midnight. You wondered what could have happened in New Asgard that could have had him occupied until nearly dawn his time. He didn't offer an explanation, simply smiled indulgently.

"I beg your pardon, dear one," he demurred, his eyes twinkling with good-natured mischief. You narrowed yours in response. "It is nothing dangerous, I promise." He was laughing, but you could see the tension around his eyes.

"To open it, you must trace the waxing crescent moon to the ridge of the mountains. From there you follow the path through the valley into the winter sun." His lips were twitching, and he looked entirely too pleased with himself.

When he had appeared, you had been pouring a much-needed glass of wine. You could have sworn you'd seen Thor earlier that day in a third-floor window, watching you. Your heart had raced, but you'd been able to resist the urge to run inside and punch him until he hurt as badly as he'd hurt you. You'd vowed to hold on to your temper and your tears on the day you'd decided to keep the New Asgard run.

Swirling the pinot noir in your overly full glass, you sat casually on the couch next to Loki, crossing your legs with a dubious smile on your face. "Uh-huh." You lifted an eyebrow. "What's in the box? And it better not be a head."

"Why would it be a head?" When you opened your mouth to explain the reference, he lifted his hand to stop you. "Don't answer. I don't care. Open it and look."

Your eyes narrowed even further, your lips twisted in suspicion. Still, he seemed to be having fun-fun, not mean-fun, so you figured you could risk opening the thing. You leaned forward and set your wineglass on one of the agate slices that served as coasters to protect the dark oak of the coffee table. You grabbed the dark box Loki had given you earlier and sat back, settling it in your lap. You shot Loki a look from under skeptical eyebrows.

Turning your attention to the box, you were taken by the beauty of the thing. It wasn’t large, but rectangular in shape and a little smaller than a brick. Its surface was shiny and nearly black with age. But for the symbols and sigils carved deeply into the wood, you would have thought the object made of obsidian, so smooth and glassy was the surface between the carvings. Almost immediately, your eye was caught by the elaborate crescent with the horns facing left along one of the thin, long sides.

Your finger reached out and delicately traced the curling pattern within the crescent. When you reached the end, the entire symbol began to glow a white-edged blue. Your finger followed a jagged line that reached around and ran along the edge of one of the thin, short sides. From there a winding, curving line through symbols and runes that you couldn't translate across the other long, thin side through a dipping 'U' shape. Finally, your finger followed the line into a spiral on one of the large faces. The spiral itself nestled into a symbol strangely reminiscent of a sun within a snowflake.

Once the line that traveled through all the symbols was lit with that bluish-white light, a seam in the wood appeared. Feeling very much like Pandora, you slid the lid out from the groove in which it sat. Inside, on a bed of silk, lay a small, crystalline bottle full of a vibrant blue liquid that seemed to shimmer in the light as it faded from the symbols. Tendrils of steam swirled out of the box where the chill of the bottle met the warmth of the air.

"Oh, what fresh hell is this?"

At your acerbic response, Loki burst into full-throated laughter. "Only you, dear one, could find a king's ransom an irritant."

"It is when you're offering it." Lifting a brow, you gestured toward the bottle, silently asking if it was okay to remove it from its nest. Loki inclined his head in assent with a knowing smile. You carefully lifted the bottle, your fingers chilling the moment you touched it, wondering at both the container and the liquid within. "This isn't glass, is it? What does the liquid do?"

"Glass couldn't hold it, dear one." Loki's smile had taken on a slightly sinister edge. You'd noted his smile took on that particular cruel edge preceding a half-truth. He always looked a little cruel whenever he was about to give you an answer that was technically the truth but omitted a lot of important information. "A capful will extend your life by fifty times its normal length."

"And the catch?" You reluctantly set the bottle back in its nest, the chill starting to hurt your fingers. You continued to examine it, however, as once you'd lifted it to the light, you'd been able to see delicate patterns etched into the surface of the bottle as well. "I age at my normal length so that when I die several thousand years from now, it's from crumbling apart?"

"No, you will age proportionally to your lifetime." Loki was vaguely exasperated, but thoroughly amused. You were the only person he'd ever thought to offer this secret to. Part of that was exactly this, that you were one of the few he'd ever met who wouldn't immediately drink it but would ask a dozen questions first. He was starting to think you weren't human; you were too clever. "Remember, I actually like you, dear one."

That touched you a little. You were pretty sure that was the truth. Still… "There has to be a catch."

Loki's smiled widened. "It will change you physically. You will become much harder to kill, among other things." That cruel cast came and went once more on his ascetically pretty face. "You might not like some of the changes."

"Huh." You sat for a moment, thinking over all of the information he had both volunteered and carefully hidden. You couldn't help but notice that he hadn't entirely answered your question. You knew there had to be more of a catch than he'd revealed, but you could also tell he didn't want to tell you. Whatever was going on here, you could see clearly that Loki was not being entirely honest with you, surprise, surprise. You were certain there were aspects that you would not like should he tell the truth. Until then… "No."

"No!?"

You burst out laughing at the sheer insult all over him. His face was a study in umbrage, his body recoiling in horror. He was genuinely shocked that you wouldn't leap at the chance to extend your life without thinking further. You were genuinely amused that he thought you'd jump without thinking about the consequences first. You hadn't survived this long in the odd world you inhabited by being either naïve or reckless.

"No, I will not drink your I’m-an-obvious-trap-and-if-you-drink-me-you’re-an-idiot potion." You closed the box with a snap, then leaned forward to place it on the coffee table once more. You picked up your wineglass and sat back to continue. "This has Faustian bargain written all over it. ‘Drink this mysterious liquid that does not have a label and you have no idea what’s in it and you’ll have life, health, and youth for the next 4,000 years, no strings attached.’" You scowled good-naturedly at the now smiling god. "Sure! Nothing insanely wrong here! I mean, if you can’t trust the God of Mischief and Deceit."

Loki tilted his head back and roared with laughter. You'd never seen him laugh like this, open and unguarded. It occurred to you that Loki hid a lot of himself away, and you wondered about the why of it. Today, however, you were just grateful to see him enjoying himself so thoroughly. Your face softened, and you teased gently as he calmed, "Well, come on. This might as well have a sign that says, ‘Free Bird Seed’ on it."

"I do not understand," he answered, still chuckling. "Is bird seed terribly precious on Midgard?"

"I cannot figure out where to even begin to explain Wile E. Coyote to you."

"If it is another ridiculous Midgard thing, don't bother." He lifted a dismissive hand and you laughed again. "I don't care." His expression shifting to one of amused temptation, he slid forward on the couch. Though you knew you couldn't touch him, you weren't certain if Loki could touch you in this form. You forced yourself to stay relaxed and not retreat. Loki would immediately take advantage of any sign of weakness. "When you change your mind, love," he smiled that enticing smile of his, the one that crossed his face when he was up to something, "let me know. Do. Not. Drink it without me. You'll need my help."

"I'm not drinking it." If Loki had been a study in insult, you were now a study in doubtful challenge. You leaned back, one arm casually draped across your lap, the other swirling your wine as it lay along the back of the couch. "But I still want to know why you're even offering it to me."

"It has become clear that it is going to take you forever to stop pining for my oaf of a brother." Loki slid closer and you felt that odd push-pull you always had with Loki, the urge to run coupled with the temptation to get closer. "I want you to still be alive when that happens so I can steal you once and for all."

The last words were spoken almost against your mouth and you would swear you could feel it. Your lips seemed to tingle, as though his had been only a breath away, but you weren't sure you weren't merely hallucinating the sensation. In the next instant, Loki was gone, undoubtedly concluding that a strategic retreat was best to accomplish his aims.

He wasn't wrong; you were certain you'd be thinking about the box, and him, for a long time coming. How could you not? Even his reason for offering would prey upon your mind. It was so weirdly sweet.

Didn't matter, you thought to yourself. You weren't a fucking idiot, and you did not know what that potion really did. You weren't fucking drinking it.

Part Nine: Ablation here

Taglist:

@lbouvet @rocknroll-is-thewaytogo @chook007 @quickies-with-quicksilver @deinopis @daylight-saver @rishlo @pebblesz892 @bibliophile1773 @bojabee @knightofreaders @pancake-pages @666nunslut666 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @lilulo-12 @tabbytyler @sunigyrl @suz-123 @cheekygeek05 @hellzzzbelle @jewels2876 @innerpaperexpertcloud @miraclesoflove @irritated-bisexual @diinofayce @fashionworld12

[shes-soparticular]

Every Little Part of Me is Holding on to Every Little Piece of You

A/N: Part 2 of 2. Angst with some fluffiness.  Since this is written in the third person and isn’t really reader based, I gave her a name this time, Alex. Feel free to imagine it as it suits you! Special thanks to Boyz II Men for all the 90s R&B inspo.

Part 1 here - http://shes-soparticular.tumblr.com/post/183635045865/take-me-back-to-the-start

Words: 2845  

As soon as he hits the bottom of his fourth cup of coffee, the mile markers finally reach the end of their countdown. Chicago’s skyline stretches out before him in the distance, lighting the night sky and bringing him an odd mixture of excitement and fear. He’s spent all 7 hours of his drive practicing what he’ll say to Alex, the monologues shifting with the state lines. While he had a million thoughts he wanted to express to her, complete with thousands of promises and apologies, it really all boiled down to one sentiment. He loved her, with every last fiber of his being, and he just prayed that was enough. Of course he knew this could all blow up in his face. She’d asked for space and time and six days (now seven, at this late hour) didn’t seem to fulfill that request. There was a distinct possibility she wouldn’t take this as a grand gesture but rather a rejection of her needs. But somewhere around the halfway point, he let go of worrying about that risk. If he could look her in the eyes and speak to her, tell her everything he should have said the night she left, at least things would be out in the open. At least she would know he wasn’t about to give up this fight.

Exiting the freeway and turning on to Chicago’s city streets, traffic slows as late night revelers pour out of the bars and into their Ubers. It’s close to three in the morning and he’s lost an hour with the time change, but he’s never felt more awake. His muscle memory seemingly kicks in, putting him into auto-pilot as the neighborhood becomes familiar. Alex had lived in that old Greystone with Erica when they’d first met, the small apartment serving as a refuge for them on many nights early in their relationship. His heart ached for those days, when their love was still a secret kept between the two of them. When they’d still been able to shut out the rest of the world and all of the responsibilities that came with it. It wasn’t to say that her move to Toronto hadn’t been a much needed step for the both of them, but going public had certainly popped the bubble they’d been living in.

He takes the first parking spot he sees, knowing full well it’s probably a tow zone. This night was going to have one of two outcomes and he couldn’t imagine giving a shit about a parking ticket either way. Within seconds, he finds himself standing outside of familiar Greystone and suddenly the courage he’d built up doesn’t seem to be enough to drive him to ring the buzzer. Fate intervenes as he lingers and a couple he vaguely remembers from the prior year stumbles together up the steps. The way the girl is walking backwards, hands in her boyfriend’s back jean pockets, giggling into his neck as he fumbles with the keys, gives Shawn instant flashbacks to all the summer nights he and Alex had done the very same dance. The couple doesn’t notice him immediately, brushing passed in their drunken daze. As the boyfriend works on unlocking the door, the girl glances over her lover’s shoulder at Shawn with a stare of recognition. “I knew I saw Alex this week, you’re here with her, right?” Even though it was essentially a lie, he was here for Alex but not with her, he nodded anyways. That was enough for the girl to detach from her boyfriend and hold the door open for Shawn. “Tell her and Erica we’re sorry in advance for any noise tonight.”  For a second, he’s reluctant to go in. This feels a little like cheating and he wonders if he owes Alex the opportunity to deny his buzz. However, the part of him that’s desperate for her to hear what he has to say, even if from behind one closed door, considers this must be fate’s way of getting him closer. With another polite nod, he follows them into the building, heading straight for the stairs. He takes them two at a time and reaches the third floor, his palms going sweaty at the sight of the door that used to welcome him. From the hallway, he can hear the sound of ‘Water Runs Dry’ drifting from behind the door and breathes a sigh of relief that at least he won’t be waking anyone up out of a dead sleep. Granted, knowing that his girlfriend is likely up at three am listing to breakup songs isn’t the best omen either. Not allowing himself another moment of hesitation, he reaches up and knocks on the door. Now or never.

A solid minute passes before he hears footsteps from within the apartment, approaching the door with caution. It creaks open painfully slow, latch still clearly on. But the one green iris he sees peeking out nearly stops his heart. Her eye is red and puffy, obviously weary from crying. Before he can open his mouth, the door shuts again but luckily with the telltale sound of the chain lock being undone. When the door opens all the way, he drinks in the sight of her. Even with her hair pulled into a messy, unkempt ponytail and her face blotchy and tear stained, she’s by far the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. The fact that she’s wearing one of his old hoodies sends a warmth through his veins.  It takes every ounce of strength not to pull her right into his arms, to kiss away those tears.  “Shawn?” Alex’s voice cracks, a look of bewilderment on her face. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t want to launch into his declaration just yet, his mind preoccupied with the sight of her. “I…I had to see you. I went out for a drive and this is where I ended up.” She seems to process this information for a moment, finally moving aside with a silent invitation for him to come in. He steps passed her carefully, shoving his hands in his pockets to force himself not to touch her. Maybe it’s the caffeine, maybe it’s the nerves, but he swears his heart is racing at a thousand beats per minute. He’s accustomed to her being this calming force, his touchstone that brought him down to earth. So this is a new feeling, one that he doesn’t want to hold on to for long.

“Well, ugh, excuse the mess…I wasn’t expecting any visitors this late.” Alex tightens her ponytail, buzzing around the living room to clean up the discarded Ben & Jerry’s pints and empty wine bottles. On her tour around the room trying to hide the evidence of her wallowing, she notices Shawn craning his neck, obviously looking for Erica. He’s expecting her to come stomping out at any second, ready to rip him a new asshole. “Erica left this morning on a business trip. Luckily for you.” Her last sentence seems to be lighthearted, another good sign, but he’s doing his best no to get his hopes up.

“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a relief,” A chuckle escapes his lips, which he instantly regrets. This probably isn’t the time to laugh this off considering he most certainly is owed an ass kicking by her best friend. ���Can we talk? Would that be okay?”

Her lips part for a second before closing again, clearly searching for the words. Bringing her hands up to rub her arms as if chilled, she finally blows out a breath. “Yeah. We should definitely talk.” She doesn’t move a muscle towards the couch, choosing instead to stand in the center of the room as if to be ready to make an exit. He takes one tentative step towards her but still leaves a respectful distance. The monologues he’d practiced on the drive are suddenly erased from his mind and there’s only one thought echoing in his head. “There’s a lot I want to say but I think I need to listen first. Will you tell me what’s on your mind?” Alex’s face softens at this, not having expected such a mature response. Still, she’s in the very same boat of having plenty to say and not knowing how to organize it.

“What’s on my mind?” She repeats, arms crossing protectively against her chest. “I’m not sure where to start. I’ve been playing this conversation out in my head the last few days and I still don’t know what to say.”  A heavy sigh leaves her, her eyes moving to the ceiling to hold back tears. “The thought that seemed to come back in every single version is…why didn’t you choose me, Shawn? I choose you every second of every day. I choose us. But over the last few months, I’ve felt so alone. I’ve felt myself falling down your priority list. And I just wonder, how long until I’m not even your afterthought?” Her voice is quaking as she tries to get the words out. He wants to cut in, to tell her how sorry he is, how far from the truth it is, but he holds back. More than anything, he wants her to feel heard. “It wasn’t even the stupid kiss, you know? I trust you. I know that was a misunderstanding. The fucked up part was that it happened while we were in the same city. On a night you were supposed to have come home to me. On a night that we had planned for so long and I had been clinging to. And you just…you didn’t choose me.” She reaches her hands up to press at the corners of her eyes, still refusing to cry again so soon. It’s enough for the pricking feeling to build behind his own eyes. The guilt welling up in his stomach is almost too much to bear, but he knows he deserves it. Honestly, he needs her to unload, needs to take this weight off of her shoulders, no matter what it means for him.

Clearing his throat, he waits for her to bring her eyes back to his. He doesn’t want to say this without her being able to see how much he truly means it. That these words are coming from the deepest part of him. “You’re right. About all of it. I was so caught up with tour and with all of my own bullshit that I put you on the back burner. I should have seen what it was doing to you, but I ignored it. And that night? God, I’d do literally anything to take it back. All I’ve wanted in these last six days was to spend a single second with you, even just hearing your voice again. I can’t believe I ever let myself take you for granted.” This time, he can’t stop himself from taking another step towards her. “I am so sorry, baby. I know I hurt you and I know I can’t fix it. But I also can’t just give up fighting for us.” Now it’s his voice that cracks. “None of this means a fucking thing without you.”

The tears are falling freely down her face now, but the tension has left her features. She looks so incredibly vulnerable in that moment and his heart has had enough, he has to hold her. Crossing the room, he gently pulls her into his chest, lips instinctively going to her forehead. He’s beyond relieved when she lets herself crumple into his arms, tears staining his t-shirt. “I know you wanted space and I promise, you can take whatever you need. As long as you need. But I need you to know I’m not letting go.” He gently lifts her chin to look at him once more. “I love you more than anything in this world and I’ll do whatever it takes to show you.” She responds with a tiny nod, a deep breath filling her chest as she attempts to compose herself. They lock eyes for a long beat, expressing everything that neither of them can find the words to say. Brushing the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs the way he should have a week before, he’s overwhelmed in that moment by the amount of love he has for this woman. It’s nearly overpowering, but he can’t imagine it being any other way. He can’t imagine living without that feeling.

Once she’s caught her breath, she balls her hands in the back of his shirt, pulling him closer. “I believe you. I shouldn’t have expected you to read my mind from thousands of miles away. We’ve always been so honest with one another and I clammed up. I should have just told you that you were being an asshole.” Alex manages a smile up at him. “Next time I will.”  He swears the words “next time” are now his favorite in the English language, specifically falling from her lips.

“I swear I’ll do my best to ensure there is no next time.” Pressing his forehead against hers, he can’t get her close enough. “I mean, we both know I’ll probably still manage to be an asshole from time to time, but only with the best of intentions. Because I’m always going to choose you.” Their lips finally connect, neither of them ever having needed a kiss so badly. It begins gently, but it’s not long before they’re lost in one another.

The shrill sound of the alarm on her phone begging for attention breaks his focus on her lips, the device rumbling around on the coffee table a few feet away. A reminder flashes on the screen and he’s fully prepared to ignore it, knowing that his scatter-brained girlfriend relies on her iPhone to remind her of even the most mundane things – like packing her work lunch or taking her birth control. But for some reason, the emboldened words catch and hold his attention. Check into flight. AIR CANADA Flight 508, ORD -> YYZ.

As if he isn’t already awash in relief, another wave crashes over him. Keeping his hand glued to the small of her back as she reaches down to turn off the alarm, a shaky breath leaves him along with the insecurities still swimming in his head. “You…you were coming home?”

She does her best to bite back the guilty smile growing on her face. Pulling herself back into his arms, she momentarily hides her face in his chest, a pink flush growing across her cheeks. “Of course I was.” Her words are muffled in his shirt, so he tilts her chin upwards. He needs to hear these words from her loud and clear.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” There’s a matching smile tugging at his lips as well. The revelation is filling his chest and he can’t begin to understand the endorphins reaching his brain from a simple iPhone reminder.

“Of course I was coming home to you,” She repeats, meeting his eyes. “It took me five days of refusing to admit it to myself, about ten bottles of wine, and nearly wearing out ‘End of the Road’ on Erica’s Boyz II Men vinyl, but I couldn’t let this be the end. I’m kind of madly in love with you.” He’s fully aware that he’s lucked out, that she could have easily cut and run and started fresh with someone that wouldn’t take her for granted. But despite their challenges, despite their flaws, he believed they were meant for one another. If soulmates in fact existed, he was confident that he’d found his. And he was resolved to never fuck it up again.

The music still softly drifting from the record player brought a sudden thought to his head. Sure, 90s R&B had plenty of soulful breakup songs but the makeup songs were arguably even better. Pulling away from her with reluctance, he made his way to the record player across the room. “Hey you, don’t go,” Alex instantly pouts at the loss of him, trying to catch his shirt as he walks away from her.

“One second.” He shoots her a cheeky grin before studying the album cover to find the track listing he's thinking of. Picking up the arm of the record player, he carefully places the needle on the right groove. The first notes of the song ring out as he walks back towards her, his grin doubling in size. “That’s more like it.”

His hands reach her hips just as she registers the song, her signature giggle sweet music to his ears. “I’ll Make Love to You? Really?” Though she’s rolling her eyes, he can see the fire returning in them. Her hips begin to sway against his, hands reaching to bring his face back down to hers. “You fucking better.”

 They both know this won’t be the end of their problems. Making love on your best friend’s couch isn’t an instant fix to any challenge. But it’s certainly a start. And right now, that’s all they need.

[scatter-shotx]

Hold On;

Come back I still want you—come back I still need you; 

 Have you ever had that pain, that pain that you can’t place in any particular location—only the fact that it hurts. Hurts to think, hurts to breath, hurts to feel. That festering sensation was what lingered in the pit of Nancy Wheeler’s abdomen. “Nancy?” It was the soft unsure voice of Dustin Henderson. Numb. Nancy Wheeler was completely and utterly…numb. “You’re wrong.” Nancy replied, her facial expression unchanging as she stared at the concrete outside of her doorstep. “You’re wrong.” She repeated, her voice a tad bit more shaky this time around—was she trying to convince herself or Dustin? “Nanc, I’m not. Steve was shot…I even had even called the police to double check on the obituary…Steve died.” It was winter now, yet…the doorknob was hot beneath her touch, while the entirety of her body was freezing. “You’re…wrong…” She whispered out as she felt her glossy aquatic hues focus more intently at the tips of Dustin’s sneakers. “Nanc…it’s okay.” Dustin brought his hands to her arms and held them as he silently begged for her to look at him, to make sure Nancy Wheeler understood.  Nanc, it’s okay…it’s okay. Those were the last words she heard from Steve. God…the look on his face, the way the breeze gently pushed around his iconic locks of hair, and that undeniable look of pain etched all over his face. “NoOoooOo….” Nancy sobbed out as she felt her lips trembling, tears that she tried to hold back, falling effortlessly from her eyes as she felt a sob that was summoned in her chest. “Nanc….” I love you Nancy… Why? Why didn’t she fight harder for him to stay? Why didn’t she fight to make him realize how much she loved him, how much she still needed him? Dustin had watched as the shocked expression was left on Nancy’s face as snow blew in the doorway of her home, over her lap as she looked down at her hand to see his class ring still lingering on her finger—it was the only thing that she had left of him. A year and a half—a year and a half wondering where he was, if he was dead or not. “Steve….” She mourned him as she felt the air suck out from her lungs to where she couldn’t breathe, her heart splintering apart as she felt Dustin hugging the Oldest Wheeler child. “Baby no…” Nancy was begging, begging Steve as if he were there, begging him to stay. But he didn’t, he never stayed and he never came back.    Later that evening…  It was stupid. Believe me, Nancy knew how stupid that it was. But regardless of that stupidity…Nancy Wheeler used this so she could remember, so she could feel. Sitting down on her toilet, Nancy tucked her chin against her knee as her left hand pulled her big toe and her second toe apart, and from there Nancy used her right hand to guide a syringe and needle towards her foot. Looking at how the needle glistened, the light caught her eye and she could have sworn that the blinding light brought an image of Steve. “No…No…” She demanded to herself that she wasn’t going to cry, not anymore, not anymore tonight. Taking in a deep breath, Nancy pushed the needle into the skin between her toes and her heart skipped a beat as she pushed the liquid into her body. A breath. One breath and she felt that pain beginning to reside from her body, melting away as she felt the stinging cold of the toilet against her bare skin. Removing the needle, Nancy tossed it down onto the bathroom trash the plastic clattering as she sniffed hard, taking a few seconds before moving to stand up. As she stood up, she caught the reflection of herself, puffy red eyes, blemished skin, red nose, chapped lips. Blinking back tears, Nancy closed her eyes as she realized that she wasn’t going to win that battle. Holding onto the sink, she felt her heart begin to slow down. “It’s bullshit…” Nancy sobbed out as she realized that even in the darkness of her closed eyes—all that she could see was Steve Harrington, memories reeling through her mind as she felt her skin begin to relax around her body. /“You don’t love me?” / The floor rose up to meet her and Nancy Wheeler had now found herself on the bathroom floor, but instead of indulging in the euphoria of the drug, reliving the best memories of Steve, she couldn’t help but linger on everything she did wrong—everything… It was almost like she could feel his warmth, see him, feel him, smell him. “I still need you Steve…” She whispered out as it echoed through her head, the words he would have never heard Nancy say as he boarded that bus. “Steve…come back…” That day It was bright, too bright in fact—thank god for sunglasses. Next to her was her brother Will, and on the other side of her, her mother Karen. Thank god for sunglasses, because if anyone were to see her eyes right now, they’d realize that she was flying higher than a kite at the moment. Her feet and fingers were covered in boots and gloves, and that was a blessing because all of the needle pricks were no doubt going to catch the eye of several inquisitive folks. The funeral was something that was something almost in a different dimension for Nancy, how she wished it could have been different; if it had been her in that casket. Her right hand had been gripped tightly by her mother who had been watching as Nancy spiraled into a depression after Steve had left. But upon hearing that Steve was killed, Karen knew that every fiber of her daughter’s being was screaming in pain. But here she was, stoic, unmoving. People had been up to see Steve several times, and Nancy had yet to see him. “C’mon honey.” Karen noted as she gestured towards the casket that no doubt held the Late Steve Harrington.“Do you realize that this is a nightmare mother?” Nancy questioned which caused an awkward expression on Karen’s face. “This is a god-damn nightmare. Steve Harrington is dead. I still love him. I never stopped…loving him. So officially Nancy Wheeler is in love with a dead-man.” Nancy stated as she moved to stand up. “I couldn’t get him to stay, and if I hadn’t been so immature, if I would have been stronger, if I wouldn’t have been such a bitch, if I weren’t such bull-shit. Steve would be alive right now, I’d be happy, I would have made him happy. So this is a god-damn nightmare.” Nancy hissed out as she took her steps forward towards the casket and it was then that she had smelled it. Four puffs of Farah Fawcett spray. Nancy tugged off her sunglasses—she had to look at him with her own eyes. “Steve…” She whispered out as she felt the world around her melting away and all she could see was him. “Baby, I don’t know how…to be this world without you…I’m so sorry Steve…I’m so sorry…” Nancy’s voice shuddered as she put her  fingers to run through his hair and rest on his cheek. “I love you…Come back, I need you Steve…” She begged the corpse in front of her, her heart aching so much it nearly threatened to burst out of her chest. “Come back…I’ll make it right this time…I promise…just…” Nancy couldn’t hold back the tears as she fell onto her knees in front of his casket. “Come back…I’m sorry…” She soon felt the hands of Dustin on her shoulders as he held her tightly as her body raked sob after sob. How could she say goodbye to someone she hadn’t seen in a year and half? Her first love? The love of her life? Steve Harrington? You couldn’t…she just couldn’t say good-bye. No doubt tonight, she'd jump off of the cliff and into icy cold waters--hoping it's freezing grips would claim her. There was no point...not anymore.  x    Sadness, depression, emotions that clouded the air and kept those that attended in tears. The funeral wasn’t huge by any means. Ironic for someone who had the title of king in Highschool. One might think the world all over would have come by to pay their respects to the man, but that just wasn’t meant to be. Instead what stood was a small group of friends and family that supported and cherished Steve Harrington over the years. His parents said their peace, a few of his highschool friends that kept in touch, but mostly the air truly saddened when Dustin stepped up to say a few words about Steve. Speaking of their time together, speaking of Steve’s deepest darkest secret and how it helped change his life, the Farah Fawcett spray. The advice the two shared, the good times, if ever there was someone Dustin could call a best friend it was Steve. Most at that funeral shared a similar opinion and experience with Steve. While he might not have been the easiest guy to get along with at times, it was his heart that drew so many in and his heart that made it an honor to know him. But it was the aftermath of the funeral, the last few moments everyone had with Steve before he was to be taken away, that was when the petite blonde walked up toward the podium where she hoped she’d find Nancy Wheeler. It was unmistakable, like Dustin, she’d be the one in a strong sense of pain. “Nancy, Nancy Wheeler…” The shaky voice from the blonde spoke, hoping to get her attention. Her bright green eyes looked back at Nancy, smudged from the make up that was compromised thanks to the tears she just wiped from her face. “Hi I’m…well my names Denise and I was, a friend of Steve’s. He uh…” She said with an inevitable lump welling in her throat. Trying to speak, such a simple action that became as complicated as decoding a rubix cube or Russian code at this point. “I’m sorry.” She said clearing her throat some before she spoke again. “Steve was a good friend to me. He helped me during some dark times and made sure I had what I needed to help take care of my little boy. He was a good guy, someone I owed so much too. The least I could have done was try to make him happy, try to make him smile, but no matter what I did I could never get him to smile. I thought maybe it was just a dark mysterious thing about him, but I found out there were two things that always brought that smile out of him. When he mentioned Dustin over there…” She said pointing his way, the same Dustin who spoke with Steve’s parents. “And especially when he mentioned you. He always spoke about you, always spoke wonders. God, everytime he mentioned the name Nancy Wheeler, his eyes lit up like it was the fourth of July.” She said with a chuckle at the thought. “You were truly someone special in his life. And I…well.” Dear Nance, So, you know I was never good at writing. Heck the last time I tried I made a stupid sports analogy to try and compare to my family. God just thinking back on it, how did you not laugh in my face? It was so stupid. Heh, but I guess that’s you right? Nancy Wheeler always seeing the best in people even when they don’t see it themselves. Well here goes, I’m going to give this a try so if I sound dumb along the way, please bare with me. I’m sorry that I left like I did that day. My heart and my mind weren’t exactly agreeing on what they wanted and I…I panicked. I left because my heart wanted you, wanted you as more than a friend. But my mind raced and kept going back to all the moments with us. To the stupid thing I did when I accused you of cheating on me with Jonathan. To the fight we had about Barb, to the fight we had before I left. It just kept replaying all the bad moments we had and it nagged at me, telling me it was just doomed to happen again. I was confused and like an idiot, I ran. Tommy might have been an asshole, but he was always right about one thing, whenever something felt like it was too much to handle I…I ran. And I ran again when I should have stood up and been a man, stood up and talked to you. Instead of calling you, instead of talking to you I ran over here to Wisconsin and stationed myself off. It wasn’t fair to you Nance, it was selfish of me and I never should have done it. Well, I’m done being an idiot. I’ve been working at this mechanic shop and I managed to get enough money saved up to buy a one way ticket back home. I just need to pick up this check at the end of the week and I’ll be set. In the meantime I’m writing you this letter to give you a heads up. I’ll take any slaps, any yelling, anything you have to throw at me. If it means I’ll get to see the beautiful Nancy Wheeler again then so be it. This time, I’m not giving up on us. I’m on my way to the post office right now to mail this out. I’m coming home Nance, because I love you and I truly believe in us. I’ll see you soon. Love Steve

Hold On by Chord Overstreet is the muse for the bundle of angst 

[westallenfun]

Before the Hood - 2/6

For @jade4813 from @backtothestart02

…

Chapter 2 -

Slowing his horse’s gallop to a trot, Julian brought the animal to a stop in front of its stall in the stables and swung one leg over the side to drop down onto the ground, while his stable hand held his grand horse steady.

“Thank you, Felix.”

The boy nodded and guided the horse into its stall.

Julian moved almost immediately after that, heading straight into his residence. His tutor would be in the library, no doubt to teach him more Latin. He abhorred Latin. It had no purpose, given few people could read and only the friar and other clergymen could understand and speak it in turn. Julian had no interest in spending long hours inside the house of God, dedicating his life to that of blind servitude and sacrifice and celibacy. Despite the fact that his knighthood had been forced upon him by his father, one of the highest-ranking guards of the King, he enjoyed the respect it granted him. And training in the art of jousting and archery and sword fighting certainly beat any other job he could’ve been pushed into.

Women fawned over him. Men looked to him as a promising lad for the future. He would go to the Crusades soon, and when he returned, he would obtain everything he wished. Separation from his father, a marriage to the woman Barry Allen loved, and all the gold and jewels he desired.

Maid Iris was a pretty little thing. Her dark hair and skin accentuated by her light-colored dresses, pinks and purples and yellows, all that were of a satin material ever since she’d become Sheriff DeVoe’s charge. Julian went to visit her often, trying to make a good impression. She appeared to be uninterested. But he’d impressed Sheriff DeVoe with his knighthood and manners and shared knowledge of Latin – ironically. Julian knew before he left Collin Woods for the battlefield, he could convince the man to sign a contract in Iris’ place, so they would be wed immediately on his return.

Julian wasn’t blind to Iris’ lack of affection towards him. He knew she’d been closed-minded from the start, unwilling to even consider him an option, because her heart still lie with the foolish boy who’d swept her off her feet before her father and brother had abandoned her in their departure from Collin Woods. As pretty as she was, and as admirably stubborn, Julian had no problem admitting that he wanted her for himself solely so Barry Allen couldn’t have her.

The odds were already against Barry with the scandal of his father taking on a female pupil in the practice of medicine – and not only a girl, but a peasant. Her only place should be that of cooking and cleaning and to marry another peasant at her own level. The fact that another knight, Sir Ronald, had promised himself to her baffled Julian. But he supposed it was not his place. He was even more uninterested in Caitlin Snow than Maid Iris on her own merit. All he cared about was hurting Barry Allen, who had more to live for than he could have dreamed. And he deserved none of it. He took all of it for granted.

Barry not only was able to get by without a real job that would add to the income of his household, but he spent most afternoons shooting off arrows in the middle of the forest. Reckless! If you asked him. Especially since he knew for a fact the arrogant boy had no intention of ever fighting in the great war of their time, alongside their King, who he claimed to miss dearly with the idiotic Prince John in his place.

Henry Allen might’ve preferred his son practice medicine, but he did not disown him when he refused to do so. If Julian had refused knighthood his father would have done exactly that. Thrown him to the streets, because how dare he not want something that came with so much honor, so much nobility, that promised him victory in his life and all that he desired. Despite Julian warming to the idea, he would always be bitter and hold resentment against his father for the pressure he’d put him under. When Julian had announced he was pursuing Iris, his father had just barely approved, and only because her station had been lifted up in Joseph and Wallace West’s departure. He supposed he should be grateful for that. But he couldn’t. It was only another instance in which Sir David Albert reigned supreme.

His father had never mourned his wife or his daughter’s passing. He beat Julian when he caught him in tears over their deaths. Women were not meant to grow attached to, he would say. They were meant for cooking and cleaning and bearing children. In his wife’s absence, Sir David Albert had hired a maid, Louise. Only five at the time, Julian had spent the next eight years being raised by her until he was forced into knighthood by his father. He’d thought it would bring them closer, but it only made him all too aware of what a villain his father could be. It benefitted him that he and Sheriff DeVoe were of the same nature, but Julian swore he would never be like him. He would obtain Iris for himself, but he would never lay a harmful finger on her – something that could not be said of his father’s actions towards his mother.

 If Iris did not wish to clean and cook and sew, Julian would find a maid who would do those things. And he would make her fall in love with him so that she would never want to leave, never cry in the dark when she thought he was unaware. He would overcome his father in that way and also leave Barry Allen a destroyed mess without the woman he loved. Would he come to hate his father? Would he turn on his mother for never trying to stop Henry Allen from tutoring a peasant girl? It didn’t matter. The key would be in seducing Maid Iris.

That was the most difficult task. If he couldn’t do it before they were wed, he would be sure to do it afterwards. Either by turning her against Barry or by making him disappear. The idea of killing or hiring someone to kill the young Allen appealed to him for only a moment before he realized that would be still worse than what his father had done. He would not become worse. He would be better.

But Barry still needed to be poison in Iris’ eyes or he needed to leave. Julian just didn’t know how to go about choosing the latter.

“You’re lost in thought,” his tutor said as he walked into the large, quiet room.

Julian came to a halt and nodded once.

“I am ready for my lesson,” he said.

His tutor gestured to a comfortable chair in front of him, beside which sat a table and piles of books for him to learn from.

“Something troubles you,” his tutor said, looking at him contemplatively.

“When does it not?” Julian asked rhetorically on a sigh, selecting a book and flipping through it to find where they’d last left off.

“Let’s talk about it.”

Julian paused and looked up at the inquisitive, wise, older man, and wondered how best to get out of this particular conversation.

“I won’t tell your father,” he said, setting aside his own book. “Your welfare is my top priority.”

Reluctantly, Julian closed his.

“That’s not what we pay you for.”

“Consider it charity then.”

“I don’t need your charity,” he spat, harsher than he’d meant to.

“But do you need someone to listen? To really hear you, Sir Julian?”

His lips thinned.

“Is it Bartholomew Allen?” he questioned. “Do you want what he has?”

“I am not envious of him if that is what you are asking. I have almost everything I desire, and soon I will have the final piece.”

“The affections of Maid Iris.”

“Her promise to marry.”

“She is willing?” his tutor asked, surprised.

Julian’s brows narrowed. “In time.”

His tutor analyzed him most uncomfortably, until Julian nearly stood to his feet and walked out of there.

“You want something else.” His eyes widened. “To destroy young Bartholomew and all he has.” He paused. “To kill?”

Julian was unnerved by how his tutor could appear to know so much about what he was thinking. There had been rumors of him being a wizard in another land long before he arrived in Collin Woods. Julian had not believed it. But at times like this he wondered.

“You presume too much. You should keep to your studies, and to teaching me mine.”

“Perhaps.”

Julian shook his head and opened his book again.

“Let us get on with the lesson. I will forget this talk, and you should too.”

“As you wish.”

When the two had found their place in the accurate book, Julian met his tutor’s eyes to wait for his direction.

“Tell me what is on your mind, my pupil.”

Julian licked his lips, hardly daring to ask. Once it was out, it was out. If his tutor had truly once been a wizard, it was possible he could grant his request.

“Something…other than murder, something…equally devastating.”

“Betrayal, you think,” his tutor said, then thought again when Julian looked to interrupt him. “The appearance of betrayal.”

“A farce.”

“Within the Allen family. A façade that destroys.”

“Mmm.” Julian nodded. “Yes.”

His tutor’s eyes locked on his, Julian felt for the first time not unnerved, but powerful.

Will you do it?

“Twelve lines down at the beginning,” he directed, and Julian lowered his eyes to the book.

He began to read the Latin words, aware all the time of his tutor’s eyes on him. An agreement had been made. He felt it in every fiber of his bones. Something dangerous was about to happen, and he was responsible for what would unravel, all by the workings of his presumably loyal yet mysterious tutor, Eobard Thawne.

…

Snuggled close to her love, his jacket spread over her shoulders to keep her warm, Iris relished the feeling of contentment that came with being in the presence of and so near to her darling Barry Allen. He was everything to her. He was security and love and happiness and everything she could have ever dreamed. Growing up she resented the fact that women were forced into servitude of their husbands, but as she fell deeper in love with Barry Allen, she knew she wouldn’t mind that one bit. She would make him new jackets and hats. She would cook him tasty soup and roast a nice, hot chicken. She would kiss his worries away and bear him many children. She would do everything and anything expected of her as a woman without complaint if it could be solely directed at her love, Barry Allen.

What’s more she knew if she did decide to toe outside the line and do something for herself, that her Barry would let her. Even more so, he would encourage it. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree, and both his parents were warm and welcoming and loyal to any cause they took up. After all, Henry Allen had taken on a peasant girl as his pupil. Not to spite his son, but because he saw a yearning in Caitlin Snow to learn the knowledge he had to give. He did not see what society bestowed on her but what she wanted for herself. Barry was every bit like his father, though he undoubtedly had a soft spot for his mother. Even if they were the poorest of the poor, Iris would want for nothing as long as she lived with Barry by her side.

But she knew the possibility of their happily ever after was a far and distant dream. She was kept under lock and key in the DeVoe household. Clifford was a resentful, greedy, arrogant man she detested. He did not beat her, nor his wife that Iris was aware of, but he spoke harshly and had an assuming air about him. In fact the only visitor that he allowed into the house as long as she’d been there was Sir Julian Albert.

Julian’s detest of Barry and vice versa was more than enough of a reason for Iris to dislike him, but his eagerness to impress her in a clear effort to win her affections disgusted her. He knew she loved Barry, and maybe that was why he had developed a sudden desire to see her. She knew it could only possibly be to win her hand and steal her away from Barry. But she would not be stolen away so easily, or at all. Even if she and Barry could never be together, her heart would never belong to another. Especially since Julian appeared to get on so well with Sheriff DeVoe. Never in her life would she consent to marrying him. He would have to take her by force, and she would not go quietly.

But she preferred to push those awful circumstances to the wayside when she was with Barry. When she was with him it was only them. She could pretend they were really together for everyone to see, that they weren’t worrying about who might catch them, that everyone was happy for their union and they were soon to be married.

But as light started to trickle across the sky in shades of purple, pink, red, and orange, Iris was forced back into the reality they lived in. And that reality was that they’d stayed out far too long. And if they were caught, the results would be devastating.

“Barry!” she whispered in a gasp, his jacket falling off of her as she sat up abruptly. “Barry! Wake up!” She shook him fiercely and finally his eyes opened.

“What…What’s going on, Iris?” He rubbed his eyes. “Why are you so-”

“It’s dawn!” she said, stumbling to her feet. “It’s not night anymore. It’s daybreak. If I don’t get back before the DeVoe’s wake up, I may never be able to see you again!”

The gravity of the situation made Barry spring up and take her hand. They ran through the forest, near the sounds of the birds so their running feet could be stifled by other morning noises. When they reached the fortress Iris was meant to be locked up in, Barry started to lift her up so she could find her footing and climb over the other side.

“Barry, wait.” She gripped his arms.

“Iris, we don’t have time. I can’t- I’m not going to be the reason I never see you again.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I don’t want to be the reason either,” she said, clutching his shirt tighter.

“Then don’t be,” he whispered, cupping her face to reassure her. “Climb over that wall, go to your bed, and sleep a few hours more. Pretend you’ve been there the whole night, as you always do, and tomorrow night we will meet at the lake again.”

“Even if it’s cloudy?” she asked on bated breath.

“Even if the earth is shaking and the heavens pour forth water from a thousand seas and everyone is watching, I will meet you at our place, and I will wait as long as it takes for you to come to me.”

“Oh, Barry.”

He kissed her. There in the wakening day, he kissed her hard, pulling her flush up against him, willing this to not be the last moment they shared. When they broke apart, he locked his eyes on hers, begging her to listen to him and follow through with what he asked.

“Go,” he said.

Iris swallowed and nodded, letting him help her up the stone wall. When her legs swung over to the other side, she looked down at him and he smiled up at her – a little one, to congratulate her on her little victory.

‘I love you’ on the tip of her tongue, she decided against it, choosing to believe they would see each other again. She used the vines and protruding stones to climb her way down until her feet touched the grass again. Then she turned around, quietly crossed the yard until she was inside. But when she opened the door to her room, she was stopped dead in her tracks. For there in the chair beside her window sat Marlise DeVoe.

“Good morning, Iris,” she said.

Iris didn’t move a muscle.

“I thought we should talk,” she continued, gesturing to a wooden chair across from hers.

“And if I don’t want to?” she said, indignant in a way she couldn’t be with Clifford.

Marlise smiled sardonically at her young charge.

“I really think you do.”

…

Barry’s heart was racing the whole way back to his house. The sound was so loud in his ears that he couldn’t even hear his own feet on the ground, which he no longer tried to conceal from any early morning risers.

They’d never got that close to being caught. Never.

They’d always been so careful. Meet up at the lake, spend some time getting lost in each other eyes and telling each other how in love they were, and then get back to their homes before anyone suspected a thing.

But this time, he couldn’t recall whose decision it was, but they had ended up lying on the grass in the warm summer air, and before either of them knew it, they had fallen asleep. It was probably the best sleep Barry had in a while if he was being honest. Even the sun stretching across the sky wouldn’t have been enough to wake him up with Iris cuddled in his arms.

So, in truth, they’d been lucky that Iris was a little more likely to startle herself awake when danger was imminent.

And it had been imminent. Barry just hoped it was a close call only and not the last time he’d see her. He didn’t want something terrible to happen to her in that house if she’d been caught. He never asked her about her experience there, not in the six months she’d been living there, but she didn’t volunteer information either, so he figured it either wasn’t that bad or it was bad enough that she didn’t want to talk about it.

He’d let it pass from his mind without a second thought before, but now he worried for her. He’d be going out of his mind with worry until nightfall when they would meet up again. If she met him at their spot, he could ask her what had happened, and hopefully she could soothe his worries. But if she didn’t…

Well, he didn’t want to think about that. Not now. Maybe he’d pester Cisco later in the day. He’d reassure him, right? It wasn’t as if he could go to anyone else. Cisco was the only one who knew about his late-night meetings with Iris, and he preferred it to stay that way.

Finally approaching his home and grateful to see his bedroom window still cracked open, he moved toward it, hoping to get inside unnoticed and a few more hours of sleep before he went in town to distract himself with repairs and babysitting.

The window squeaked a little, but his slim frame allowed him to slip inside and shut the window without alerting his parents who he assumed were still asleep in their bed. Kicking his shoes off quietly, he walked over to his bed and pulled back the covers, intending to will himself to sleep despite the sound of birds and the adrenaline from his taking Iris back to her residence energizing his mind.

But after he slipped into his bed and pulled the covers over him, yanking the drapes shut so he’d be able to shut out some of the light from outdoors, Barry realized he couldn’t hear the gentle snoring typical of his parents when they slept. Instead he heard murmuring from a nearby conversation. He held his breath, his first thought being if his parents knew too. What a thing it would be for both him and Iris to get caught because they’d foolishly fallen asleep in each other’s arms. He certainly wouldn’t be in physical danger from his parents. They’d likely just be worried for him and Iris. Still, it was something he’d been hoping to avoid.

Instead, when he went to his bedroom door and opened it a crack, Barry saw his parents in the living room talking. They were clearly tense, and he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but he leaned out a little into the hall – lucky to still be in the shadows – and focused his listening on the whispers coming from the distant room.

“Henry, are you sure?” Nora asked, wrapping a shawl around herself as she moved to shut the open front window.

“Yes,” he said, then nodded. “I know why you’re hesitant, why you worry. But I think we have enough saved up to keep us going.”

“For a while maybe, but-”

“These people need our care,” he persisted when she turned back to him. “And they can’t afford it. Those damn taxes are raised higher and higher every day.” One of his hands curled into a fist. “And that good-for-nothing sheriff of ours collects twice a week now.”

“I know,” Nora said on a soft sigh, placing her hand on her husband’s and slowly uncurling the tight fist, making him relax.

“Just a couple weeks,” he said, leaning his forehead against his wife’s. “With that much money still in their pocket, I can go back to charging a little so we can stay afloat.”

Nora swallowed hard. “And if not? What if the sheriff raises the taxes so the money they would’ve paid you still ends up in his pocket?”

Henry sighed. “Then Barry will have to get a job.” Nora opened her mouth to object, but he continued. “A real job, Nora. Not…babysitting and nailing some broken panels back on.”

“Henry.” She frowned, her brows narrowed in her son’s defense. “He does more than that, and you know it.”

“It doesn’t matter what he does!” Henry’s voice rose, and Nora placed her fingers across his lips, making a deliberate nod towards the hall.

“Your boy is still asleep,” she said in a hushed whisper.

Barry was grateful his mother hadn’t actually looked down the hall and therefore hadn’t noticed him. Or if she had, she hadn’t let on to his deep gratitude.

“He needs to get paid, Nora. Helping out the townspeople is all well and good, but he’s taking for granted the fact that I can support us and isn’t pulling his weight. He needs an income to contribute to the household. He doesn’t have one. There’s no back-up plan until he does. I won’t turn my patients away.”

Nora nodded, the end of the conversation in sight.

“P’rhaps it’s good he didn’t want to go into medicine then,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “If you were both in the clinic giving free services, there’d be no back-up plan at all.”

Henry sighed.

“He just needs your approval,” she said softly, rubbing his back. “Tell him you love him and that you’re proud of him, and he’ll find a job that pays a wage.”

Henry groaned. “He’s too good, Nora.” He lifted his head to press a kiss to her lips. “Just like you.”

She smiled slowly. “You don’t think he’ll take a fair wage?”

“I think he has a heart of gold that loves to make people happy. And what makes people happier than free labor?”

Nora chuckled and leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“Just have a talk with him, my love. He may be more willing than you think.”

Barry’s mind spinning, he stepped back into his room and shut the door. He should’ve known this might happen, what with the raising of taxes and his father’s gentle heart, his unwillingness to turn people away who truly needed him. In a way he was doing the same thing with the townfolk who needed assistance with their daily tasks. But his father was right in that they both couldn’t be servicing people for free. A doctor’s income was higher than most, but what they’d saved up wouldn’t sustain them for long if the taxes kept rising.

Barry would have to find a job – a real one – as much as he despised the idea. And he knew people wouldn’t be a fan of him asking for a wage when he’d gone around offering his services for free. But maybe they would understand. Everyone except the corrupt sheriff and prince, as well as the Ramon’s, appeared to have a decent opinion of him. Perhaps someone could offer him work with pay.

At any rate, it would be best to go around asking before his father broached the subject with him. Things would start harmonizing a lot quicker between the two of them if he was one step ahead of his worried father.