#and think to yourself ''thank gods i went to therapy instead of doing whatever the hell this girl's got going on''

[veshialles]

Was there a tipping point for Hyacinth, one decision that really sent her story crashing?

Or was the point that she was always going to end up here? That it wasn't just one big thing, but the culmination of a thousand little cuts?

~Jasper

It was a bit of both, truth be told! My original thought processes when building her as a character were: "what if I made a girl who Gets Worse™" and "Oh shit what if she was a space witch also!" But I have a lot of details about how it all went wrong. Anyways! time to psychoanalyze my own OC

So, Hyacinth's upbringing definitely brought with it a thousand little cuts for sure; orphaned in a traumatic shuttle crash at a young age, growing up in the slums of Marseille, France, feeling alone and abandoned, ending up forced to do morally questionable things just to survive and get enough to eat, fell in with a local street gang that had connections to a larger criminal empire. And, well, when you spend so long "just trying to survive", you might find that the mental switch for your fight or flight response could get permenantly set to "Fight", especially if your circumstances have you trapped in an environment that reinforces and even rewards your aggressive reactions and you've never sought counselling in your life because you didn't have access to those resources (and later because you think you're above "all that mushy crap".) Such as the case was for her, unfortunately.

When her biotics came in, Hyacinth (by then already well immersed in the crminal underbelly of Alliance and UNIN territories) began to make a name for herself as "La Sorciere de La Viste" and suddenly that scared little kid, tired of being pushed around, decided to become something to fear. Taking part in shakedowns, heists, smuggling rings, extortion rackets, hit jobs, the lot of it; doing whatever she could to gain an edge. A reputation which served her gang well, but soon caught the attention of the Alliance Military, who sought her out for questioning (and recruitment). They offered to clear Hyacinth's extensive criminal record if she signed a plea deal, in exhange she would get 3 full meals a day and consistent living arrangements, and while it took some intense prying on their part because of her "authority issues", she eventually accepted the offer and betrayed her old gang.

No less than a month later, the Alliance shipped her off to Jump Zero "Brain Camp", where their trainers honed Hyacinth's biotic powers into a deadly weapon, and she chose to specialize in Vanguard tactics. So now, all that rage and pain and hurt was being concentrated into raw mass effect fields with one goal: cripple the enemy with overwhelming force. She showed such proficiency in this that, after some years of dedicated service, Hyacinth was recommended for the N7 Program. Her hardheadedness served her well in some tests, and caused her to nearly fail in others, but eventually she did pass, through sheer force of will. Clawing her way up from a scrawny street rat to a fully fledged biotic warrior.

A few years later, Alliance Command shipped her off to the front lines of their conflict with the Batarian Hegemony, where she saw some of the bloodiest battles she would witness until the Reaper War. Which, as desensitized as she was to violence, did obviously leave her with even more physical and psychological scars for sure (not that she would ever honestly admit it, of course). All of this culminated to Hyacinth being put in charge of the final assault, where she ordered her unit to mercilessly pursue the Batarian forces stationed there, wiping them out at the cost of most of her unit's lives. There were rumours that her terrifying display of biotic power during the firefight could have created a "friendly fire" situation when she tore those Batarians to shreds, and while it was never fully investigated, she earned her unofficial title, The Witch Of Torfan.

The final tipping point though, in my opinion at least, was when Ashley died on Virmire. Because although her ruthless tendencies were alive and well in the pursuit against Saren, when Hyacinth was travelling with the Normandy crew, she finally had some sense of "normalcy". She didn't exactly "soften up" but she did allow herself to get closer to her crewmates than she normally would have on any given mission, because before she figured there was no point to it. The places she got assigned to were usually temporary posts, with temporary CO's and temporary squadmates, most of whom might probably die in the field anyway, so she tended to think "what's the point?".

But, over the course of her Spectre-authorized investigation, Hyacinth got very close with Ashley, who became someone Hyacinth could let her guard down around and actually have a (fairly) open dialogue with. Although they didn't agree on everything, they got along well and had some inexplicable raw chemistry, and Ashley even took to calling Hyacinth "Skipper" as a flirty nickname. (thank you modding community 💕)

If things had turned out differently, maybe she would have done at least some healing, or maybe she would have stayed the same. But when the fateful call came in, and Hyacinth was forced to make a choice, she ran back to the bomb-site. Not to save Kaidan, but to defend the team's main objective and ensure the facility's destruction. She hoped Ashley by some miracle might make it out alive, having seen her resourcefulness in the field first-hand. And when Ashley didn't make it back to the Normandy, instead of facing her grief and loss and taking responsibility for the call she made, Hyacinth chose instead to turn around take out all of her rage on Kaidan, lashing out at him in the conference room after the mission, in front of everybody, starting the bitter rivalry between the two of them that will likely never truly end. (yes he just survived the Cerberus Attack in my pt, and yeah she's a kinda pissed about it)

Hyacinth's loss on Virmire was what really "cemented" her ongoing train-wreck of harsh choices, because it was at that point when Hyacinth began to truly believe, whether she realized it consciously or not, that she was unworthy of "having good things" and "being the better woman", and that just maybe she was incapable and/or undeserving of changing her ways, and that the universe was an inherently cruel place as she had always believed. And by reinforcing that narrative in her mind, Hyacinth spiraled into a self-fulfilling prophecy, and would continue to make terribly harsh choices under this justification, with each Renegade action hammering this belief ever further into her psyche.

While Hyacinth did eventually find love and understanding again in Jack - a woman who, like her, had lead a similarly harsh life of violent crime, was hardened by it, and even understood what a life with biotics could be like - their tender connection borne from common struggles still wasn't enough to turn Hyacinth away from the path she was on. (At least she was a good influence on Jack?? Somehow??? something something cautionary tales I guess idk. thank you again, modding community💕)

I guess, in a way, the other major reason why she is Like That™ is because, at her core, Hyacinth never really stops being that scared little kid, struggling to eke out an existence in one of Earth's many forgotten gutters. She is still reacting to every potential threat and problem like a hammer to a nail, still willing to manipulate and betray her "allies" if she thinks it would give her an advantage (oftentimes without fully considering the full implications, and later on simply not caring about the long-reaching effects). Because she's simply never learned how else to operate.

So yeah, long story short; Hyacinth Shepard's unhealed trauma and apathetic/pessimistic worldview informs a LOT of her decision-making. And even though her regrets and sins will haunt her to the end of her days, she holds onto the core belief that she deserves to be haunted by what she has done, and the belief that she doesn't deserve to get better. And that's the tragedy of it all. Because like, it really didn't have to turn out like this. She was handed so many chances to do differently, to make a better choice, but when you take all of those events combined, it acted like some kind of horrible cascading domino effect for her, and because of that, it probably couldn't have turned out any other way for Hyacinth, sadly :(

[idontplaytrack]

'Not Even In Your Top 5'

AJ Campos x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, coarse language

In which reader feels like she's never anyone's first choice. And AJ finds that ridiculous. Very ridiculous.

Enjoy this little drabble :D

Things have been rocky between you and AJ for the past couple weeks. Because of what you’ve been hearing about you from fellow students, you were upset. Maybe more than upset, so you were pushing AJ away. It was a reflex for you once you faced something like this- a switch flips in your brain and you just ignore the one person who loves you. You didn't want to hurt her like you were hurting yourself. But she kept staying by your side, causing you to push her away even harder. And as patient as AJ has been, she was bound to reach a breaking point, even if she didn't mean to.

You walked through the front doors of the school, trudging to your locker as you avoided eye contact with everybody in your path. All you could think of was how they were all talking about you behind your back. That's what every quiet conversation, every pointing finger and every chuckle was to you- someone judging you.

When the last bell rang for the day, AJ immediately went to wait for you outside your classroom. “AJ, what are you doing here?”

“To talk to you. You can’t keep avoiding me.”

“I can try.”

She lets out a quiet sigh, “y/n, please talk to me.”

“I can’t do this.” You blurted out, pushing past your girlfriend and heading towards the exit. AJ however, wasn’t more then two feel behind you with each step you took. Finally, she’s had enough and grabbed your wrist. “Sit down- we need to talk.” AJ said firmly.

“Not here.” You replied quietly, defeated. She got what you meant and took you to her car instead, and you sat in the front with her. She drives away from the school, and towards her home. Once the both of you were in the privacy of her room, she asked you what had been going on with you and you just felt the words getting caught in your throat- you had no clue how to verbalise it to her.

“It’s been two weeks, baby. This silent treatment or whatever it is…if you don’t talk to me, I can’t help you.” She started, sitting at her desk to give you some space since it’s been looking like you needed it. “Was it something I did? If I did anything to upset you, just tell me. Be straightforward with me.”

————

You inhaled shakily while fiddling with your thumbs, feeling the tears brim at your eyes…just as you’d expected. You hated confrontation, it always brings you to tears. Always have an always will. You never fail to feel like the other person’s first reaction would be to scream at you, just like your parents always did growing up at every little mistake.

“I’m sorry.” You told her tearfully, explaining to her as best as you could, how you’ve been feeling and what you’ve been feeling.

“It’s always been a problem for me…overthinking, feeling like everyone’s out to get me or judging me. Sometimes I feel like I’m not even in your top 5.”

“Oh, babe…” AJ exhales, licking her lips. She envelopes you in the hug, her initial frustration and bit of anger dies down quickly. “That’s ridiculous. You’re my favourite person- you’re my girl. Nothing and no one will ever change that for me. If anyone gives you crap, they’ll have to go through me first.”

You allowed yourself to chuckle, wiping away a couple of fallen tears. “Oh, God. Why am I like this? I thought I’d already got over this problem in therapy.”

“It’s okay, baby.” She kisses you sweetly on the lips, “You’re okay. Recovery’s never 100% linear, hm? Don’t go blaming yourself, now.”

“You literally saved me.”

“Don’t give me all the credit. You’ve done a lot of work yourself in therapy for months.” She clasps your hands in her own, giving them a squeeze.

“I know, I know.” You squeezed her hands in response, “I do owe part of it to you, though. So, thank you- I just wanted you to know that.” The conversation continued and took a lighthearted turn, much to both of your relief. You lay down on her chest and she was scratching your head mindlessly like you always loved.

“I think we should go on a date.” You mentioned.

“Oh, yeah?” She asks, grinning.

“Yep. It’s been awhile and spring break’s coming up- maybe it’s time we plan a little something.” You nodded.

“Okay. I’m sure we can think of something with all that time on our hands.” AJ smiled brightly, causing you to do the same.

[ticklishraspberries]

Giggly Glam (Connor, Zoe)

Summary: Connor buys himself makeup, then realizes he has no idea how to do makeup. Zoe tries to help. (Take this Connor lives and gets to heal his relationship with his sister thing I wrote. No one asked me to, I just have an obsession with this stupid fandom. Enjoy it or else /lh.)

He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to buy it. He’d only gone into the beauty aisle to buy a new bottle of black nail polish, and had somehow ended up picking out a few cheap makeup products. It was a completely impulsive, stupid decision, and if Connor had an ounce of sense, he’d turn back around and return it all.

But he didn’t. Instead, he decided to use it as an olive branch, or whatever the saying was. You see, almost dying had sort of knocked some sense into his head. Well, that plus some therapy, and seeing the looks that Zoe kept shooting him across the table at dinner.

So, maybe when he got back from the hospital, he’d made a whole big scene about how sorry he was for the way he’d acted towards her, towards them all, and maybe he’d cried harder than he had in years, and clung to his mom like a scared child on the first day of school.

Yeah, looking back, that had been pretty embarrassing. But it had shattered the layer of ice between him and his family, which he supposed was a good thing. He just hadn’t worked up the courage to dip into that murky water again, afraid he’d do something stupid like cry again, or make it worse by clamming up and telling his sister to fuck off like he would have a few months prior.

But a gift? It was an olive branch, he supposed. Not an apology, not an explanation, but it was something. So when he got home, he went right up to Zoe’s door and knocked.

“Come in,” she replied, and she looked surprised when it was Connor who entered, not her mother. “What do you want?”

Her tone wasn’t overly harsh, just a tad annoyed, mostly confused. Connor cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, I got you something. At the store. I don’t know if you even really wear makeup, but I just…Yeah. Here you go.”

He placed the bag on her dresser, and turned to leave, but paused when she spoke.

“Makeup?” Zoe asked, standing up off of her bed and walking over, snatching up the bag and looking inside. “Thanks, I guess. I don’t wear it that much, but it’s good to have.”

Connor nodded. “Cool.”

“Why though?”

“Why what?”

Zoe raised an eyebrow. “I can’t remember the last time you got me a gift. At least, one that wasn’t clearly bought by mom, who put your name on the label. So why?”

Connor shrugged. “I mean, honestly, I bought it on impulse and realized I was never gonna use it, so I gave it to you. Not very thought out, I guess. Do I get points for trying?” he asked, his tone light although there was a pit of anxiety in his stomach. He still wasn’t used to talking to Zoe like this; normal, casual conversation wasn’t really his forte.

“You got it for yourself?” Zoe asked. “Why wouldn’t you wear it?”

“Cause I get called gay at school for wearing nail polish, I think eyeliner would be pushing my luck,” he replied. When she didn’t seem amused, he continued, “Plus, I have no idea how to use any of it.”

“Where do you think I learned it? It’s not some inherent skill that comes with being a woman. Look up a tutorial online or something,” she said. “Fuck what kids at school think.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he shot back. God, could he not get through one conversation without being an asshole? He opened his mouth to apologize, but it got stuck somewhere in his throat and wouldn’t come out. It was like every time he tried to swallow his pride, he fucking choked on it.

Zoe just rolled her eyes. “I was gonna offer to just show you myself, but if you’re gonna be a dick, I’ll just keep my secrets to myself.”

“What do you mean show me? I’m not just gonna sit here and watch you do your own makeup,” he said.

“I could do it for you. I mean, I’m not great at it, but at least you’d get an idea of what it’s supposed to look like. And if you don’t like how it looks, I’ll keep the makeup and we can pretend this never happened.”

Connor thought about it for a moment, nibbling at his bottom lip. “I guess. Uh, thanks. And sorry for, um, snapping at you.”

“Whatever,” Zoe replied, but she had a small smile on her face. Almost fond. “Sit on my bed. Wait, but take your shoes off first.”

He obeyed wordlessly, feeling incredibly strange. Zoe’s room had changed a lot since they were kids. The walls that had once been covered in stickers of flowers and photos of boy band members were now decorated much more tastefully, although Harry Styles was still making an appearance. Her twin bed had been upgraded to a full-sized one, and it was in the middle of the room rather than pushed against the wall like it had once been. Her sheets were no longer Disney princess themed, but rather soft blue ones with stars on them.

As he sat down, Zoe began peeling plastic off of each makeup product: A stick of black eyeliner, and a palette of four eyeshadows, in varying shades of purple, and a tube of mascara.

“Just your eye makeup, or do you want a full glam?”

Connor furrowed his brows at her, chuckling. “Full glam? Nah, I’ll pass.”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

She placed the products on the bed, then went back over to her dresser to grab a cup of brushes. “Your first mistake was thinking that the little wand this eyeshadow comes with would be enough,” she said. “You’re lucky that mom keeps buying me sets of brushes for every holiday.”

“Every holiday?”

“Every. Holiday. Three Hanukkahs in a row, two birthdays. So many brushes.”

Connor snorted. “I guess she thinks you wear ‘full glam’ every day,” he said, putting air quotes around the phrase she’d used, which made her chuckle.

She sat down on the bed beside him, her tongue poking between her teeth as she thought. “Okay, I think I’ll do your eyeshadow first…Just close your eyes and try to sit still,” she said.

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered, shutting his eyes as he was told, and he heard her shuffling around with the products.

After a moment, he could feel her hand hovering in front of him, and braced for impact, ever so dramatic. A somewhat flat, stiff brush touched his eyelid, and his face twitched despite his best efforts. He got it under control quickly, the sensation surprisingly easy to get used to.

“So, I’m putting the lighter color on your lid right now,” Zoe explained. “And after, I’m gonna use the darker one sort of, like, around it.”

“Sounds fancy,” he replied.

Zoe snorted, using her other hand to hold the side of his face, keeping him in place. Connor couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so close to his sister, or shared this much physical contact with her. It was weird, but it somehow felt natural, still so familiar. Her fingertips were rough from guitar string scars, and her hands were steady.

He heard her switching the brush, presumably also switching the color. The heel of her hand pressed against his jaw as she continued.

The brush was much fluffier than the last, and she was doing it so lightly, it felt like an annoying itch, and he scrunched his face up on instinct.

“Stay still,” she reminded him.

He huffed, but attempted to comply. He managed to keep his composure for a bit, but as the brush stroked against his face, turning the outer corner of his left eye the striking color of artificial grape candy, the feeling turned from an annoying itch to a feather-light sensation.

Connor couldn’t help it; he giggled, turning his face away from her.

“Stop moving!” Zoe said, retracting her hand.

“I can’t help it!” he replied. “It…feels weird.”

She ignored him and attempted to continue, but when the brush touched his skin again, he giggled again.

“Does it tickle?” Zoe asked, sounding almost incredulous. “There’s no way your face is ticklish.”

He felt his cheeks turn hot, and scowled. “Shut up,” he said, knowing he had no argument that would convince her that she was wrong.

Zoe’s lips twitched.

“Shut up. It’s not funny.”

She lost it, starting to giggle herself. “I’m sorry, but it is funny.”

Normally embarrassment felt white-hot, a rage-inducing humiliation that sent him running for the hills or taking out his anger on whoever was closest, a pit in his stomach. He was expecting that feeling to surface at that moment, but all he could feel was the color in his face and Zoe’s gaze on him.

Maybe it was because there were very few things his sister hadn’t witnessed: She knew him when he was still a gap-toothed child that was afraid of bugs, or when he grew into a pre-teen with braces and a constantly cracking voice.

So, instead of freaking out, he just glared at her half-heartedly. “Whatever.”

“Are you gonna survive if I continue?” she asked, grinning.

He rolled his eyes but nodded, bracing himself for the brush to return. He managed to sit still for the rest of the process, perhaps by sheer willpower or because Zoe was using a firmer touch to spare him some dignity.

“I’m kind of terrified of poking your eye out if I do your mascara,” she said to fill the silence. “Or eyeliner. I’ve never done it on anyone else.”

“Very reassuring,” he muttered.

All the brushes were away from his face, but he kept his eyes shut in case she went back, which was apparently a mistake, as Zoe had taken his sass as a chance to poke him in the ribs, making him flinch and huff out a laugh.

“I can’t believe I forgot you were ticklish,” she said.

“Please forget again,” he replied. “And, if I remember correctly, you are too. I’m not above revenge.”

Zoe laughed. “Okay, truce. But it’s nice to see you smile again.”

The sincerity of her statement made Connor freeze up, just for a moment. He was wading into foreign territory enough, but genuine conversation was almost too much. “Uh, thanks. I think?”

“Sorry, I just—You know, it’s just been a while since…” she trailed off.

“I know.”

She nodded, twirling the eyeliner pencil between her fingers. “So, do you trust me to not blind you?”

“...Not really, but fuck it.”

It turned out that Connor really rocked the color purple, and he loved the way that black eyeliner looked on him, and Zoe offered to show him how to do it himself next time.

He left his sister’s room and walked down the hallway with a giddy feeling in his stomach, something he hadn’t felt for a long time. It occurred to him that he had really missed his sister, no matter how hard he’d ignored it in the past. They still had a lot to work on, but Connor felt like something healed in them both that day, and it was all thanks to an impulsive purchase.

[blupengu]

Oh boy oh boy I finished Yves’s route…! Spoilers under the cut as usual!

👁️👄👁️ bruh

Okay one thing at a time! First off - Hugo is SO Yvesexual oh my god?? Bro just confess already please I’m sorry Ceres is getting in the way! “Partner” pffft yeah okay mister “I literally died from feeling too much love” sure, I hope we all find our own Hugo one day 😂

Also while all the CGs were beautiful in this route (oh his mask coming off, oh him crying in the corner, aaah the one with him sobbing into Ceres 😭 probably the best kiss CG even though it’s just like.. on the cheek LOL), can we talk about Yves’s hair-down sprite? Like… what is that. What happened? Yves honey who did your hair? Did you shred it with your sword yourself?? I would normally brush it off if it just looked a little odd, but Mathis, Lucas, and Ankou all have perfectly normal looking long hair (even Scien’s looks more normal) so clearly this was a choice. But it was a bad choice sorry my boy 💀

Now back to the route itself, I really liked it overall! Yves and Ceres I think have had the best romantic relationship build up (even if they both desperately need therapy). I just gotta yell out some feelings as if this is a liveblog lmao

The way I gasped when Dahut and Nadia showed up? Seriously I did not expect these two to steal my heart so much?? They’re truly a balm for my soul… Any time Dahut shows up now I’m like OH THANK GOD someone who doesn’t need therapy 😩

So… the science in his game has always been *hand wavey* and I think I’m generally good at just going with the flow in fictional stories, but like……… HUH??? Bruh I had to put down my controller and just stare at the screen for a hot second. We’re part flower - aight cool cool anime shit sure whatever. Their genes are different colors - uhhhh… okay, sure I guess? A pair of chromosomes are killed each year and that’s why everyone dies when they turn 23 - HOLD UP WHAT NOW??? Yoooo that’s actually hilarious it made me bust out laughing 😂 (I also still don’t understand why Yves’s family didn’t just tell Scien or someone about the fact that it was the toxins in the soil killing people?? Like bruh)

The whole “relivers can’t learn or change so people can’t even switch careers because their bodies don’t change” thing is also so dumb. Like… what does that even mean? If you worked out would you not gain muscle?? Practicing something wouldn’t help?? What about Hugo going from someone who didn’t have to work a day in his life to one of the best fighters just behind Yves and Adolphe in the Corps after he had become a reliver??? Ah nono don’t think about the science, don’t think about the science… 😩

I did very much love our boys banding together at the end though! If only it was against the mcfucking Royal family and Capucine (and whoever this mysterious “sponsor” is) instead of against Scien… dude I support your experiments, they really should’ve just let us die this time LOL (very glad Capucine got his ass handed to him though, god I hate Capucine… even though he’s kinda pretty, he’s not Jean levels of pretty enough to make me not hate him, especially after Nadia 😂 thank you Scien)

Also I’m sorry I went very feral with Lucas breaking free and showing up to help, especially in the Bourreau outfit in front of Yves and Adolphe!! Yaaas baby go use your superhuman strength to kill everyone, you’re doing great sweetie, SLAY!!! (literally) 😩😂 I really uwu-ed when Dahut was like, yeah I look up to Lucas so I’m kinda pissed at you Scien (best adult boy)… why do I feel like he’s gonna have a better chance at a happier end in Yves’s route than his own fucking salvation end lmao

And final thoughts, where was Ankou at the end?? I loved that he showed up to help Yves and he was the one to give him his mask, but buddy where did you go at the end??? Is there some multiverse or time travel shit going on???? Ceres really decided to follow in the footsteps of Lucas’s despair end with Yves though huh… 👁️👄👁️ sweetie I’m so sorry we really turned you in BBQ, a burnt chicken nugget, fire emblem Sigurd 💀 LMAO

Can’t wait to get into Le Salut!!

(But really why did Yves get 5 chapters when everyone else got 4… is it because he’s poster boy…? It’s because he’s poster boy isn’t it…)

[froggy-frogz]

omg inside job!!!

reader comforting sober andre when he realizes he’s only userful to the team when he’s high/drunk? :(

A/N: After watching the boat episode I realized he probably WOULD feel like that :( Poor baby- I swear everyone in this show needs therapy real baddd. I wrote this super late so sorry it's so short :,)

It was really early in the morning, like, 3:23 am? You rub your eyes as you sit up in your bed. There was a knock at the door? Gah, who the hell was at your door at this godforsaken hour.

You drag yourself out of bed and throw on some decent clothing before heading to the door. Your brain tumbled over all the people who could possibly be at your door at this hour, you just hoped it wasn't someone trying to thieve you.

Through your peephole, you see the slender figure that was at your doorstep.

Thank God.

You unlock the door and tug it open, "Uh, hey Andre, what's up? Little early in the morning for a visit."

Instead of responding, he tumbles into your apartment. You could hear his breathing and it was heavying, and now that you could see him clearly, he's a mess.

Gently closing the door, you sit down next to him, where he was now all curled up.

"Andre? What's wrong?" You don't try to touch him, but you do sit close enough to him for him to be able to reach out.

He looks up to you, and you can tell something was wrong right off the bat.

"Are you... sober?" You ask quietly.

There's a slight quiver in his voice, "Yeah, I've... I've been doing some thinking right now."

"What about?"

There was another sharp pause and the only noise was shaky inhales and exhales. You wouldn't push him, hell, you didn't have to work tomorrow... today, whatever, he could take all the time he needed.

"It's just, I've been thinking. Which when I'm sober is a little dangerous." He snorts, but you can tell that he doesn't find his own joke funny, "And well. I'm not very useful for the team, am I?"

"What? Of course, you are!" You turn your position to be facing him, "There are multiple times you've saved my ass, and everyone else too."

"That's when I wasn't sober though-" He snaps, and you've been taken aback. He sees this and sighs, "I'm sorry [Y/n], it's just, I feel useless."

At first, you didn't hear it, but you heard him sniffle, and before you could even blink, Andre starts sobbing. Not a few tears but full-on tears.

"Hey... Hey, hey." You wrap your arms around him, and he almost immediately wraps his arms around you too. "Andre, honey, that's not true."

He doesn't say anything but holds you tighter to him, and you let him. If it would help him feel better, you wouldn't move for as long as you needed.

"I'm not going to go anywhere," You reassure him, and he doesn't say anything, but the grip tightens.

Well, you knew what you were going to do for the next couple of hours. Not that you minded, you understood how he felt, and how upsetting it could be to feel like you aren't important. You were just glad he went to you instead of doing something irrational.

[baroquebucky]

symphony

in which bucky realizes the light you’ve brought into his life

word count: 2.3k of pure fluff

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs !! hope u all enjoy this fluff as reparations for the amount of angst I’ve been writing <333 let me know what you guys think !! inspired by this song :] sorry for any typos !!

Life felt monotonous for bucky. Everyday he would wake up, go for a walk, sometimes go out for dinner with his neighbor other times he would just stay in. Then he would go to therapy, suffer there for a while before coming back and doing nothing. Throughout the week he would go to the compound or the gym and train to get his mind off things.

“I just feel like I’m stuck in a loop and i can’t get out of it, it’s like a boring song that everyone’s playing on repreat” bucky grumbled, sam nodded, listening to bucky as he vented.

“i think you need something new in your life, something to spice it up” Sam spoke gently, thinking for a bit before a smile appeared on his face, “i know just the thing!” He cheered.

“how is coffee gonna help me” bucky huffed, sam just rolled his eyes, dragging the super soldier along to his favorite coffee shop.

“no trust me, this coffee is amazing, they have all these other drinks too and the person who always takes my order is amazing” Sam cheered, a smile on his face as he rounded the corner and saw you through the glass.

“that’s them!” He smiled, turning to look at bucky, he stopped in his tracks.

“you aren’t trying to set me up on a date right now, right?” Bucky looked at Sam wide eyed and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head and grabbing Buckys wrist.

“if this was a date i would’ve made you dress better” Sam shot back, bucky frowned looking down at his clothes. What was so wrong with his clothes?

“this is my favorite jacket” bucky pouted and Sam rolled his eyes, as the door opened a small chime went off.

“good evening sam!” You called out, a bright smile on your face as you finished taking someone’s order. Sam and Bucky stood in line, waiting only a couple minutes before you helped them.

“your usual?” you beamed and Sam smiled, you wrote it down quickly, turning to bucky with a smile, “what can i get for you?” Bucky blushed a bit, avoiding eye contact with you and glancing at the menu.

“i- well uh i don’t know actually” bucky hesitated, sam cringed at his friend, elbowing him slightly.

“what do you recommend?” he asked quickly, and you turned to look down at the menu as if you didn’t have it memorized.

“hmm, well i really the special we have right now, if you’re not into sweet then i recommend that one” you pointed out with your pen a smile still on your face.

“whatever your favorite is” He spoke, heart beating in his chest as the words tumbled out. You felt your face heat up at his words, nodding quickly. Bucky paid and went to go sit next to Sam, ears red and face hot.

Sam simply chuckled at him, waiting patiently for you to call out their order numbers. Bucky kept glancing up, stealing glances at you and marveling at how pretty you were. The way you moved so easily and kept a smile on your face anytime someone looked your way.

Buckys heart sunk a bit. He wished he could be like that, all smiles and rainbows, like the way he used to be. He thought about how brooding he was and the way sam always commented on the way he stared too much. He tore his eyes away from you and focused on the decoration in the cafe.

“57 and 58!” You called out, setting the drinks on the counter looking out for Sam and bucky, smiling when you saw the two men getting up and walking towards you.

“thank you y/n!” Sam smiled and you nodded, eyes moving to bucky, he gave you a tight lipped smile before walking out. “that wasn’t so bad was it” Sam smirked and bucky rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink.

“oh wow this is really good” bucky mumbled, drinking some more and furrowing his brows, sam smiled at him, nodding in agreement.

The two men returned a couple times every week, you smiling at them and saying hello, giving bucky a new drink to try every time he came. The two of you stealing glances anytime you looked over while making the drink, heart rate spiking when your eyes met.

Bucky was giddy to see you, wondering what you would give him today. Sam frowned when your coworker greeted them instead of you.

“wheres y/n?” Sam asked, you coworker frowned at the mention of you before replying.

“oh they quit, our boss kept giving them shit” she sighed, “between you and i, they only stayed this long because you guys kept coming back” she smiled, her eyes moving to bucky, “specially you.”

As the two men were leaving your coworker called out for them, handing them a piece of paper. “she told me to give you guys this, have a good day!”

They looked at each other before unrolling the paper, you handwriting on it along with your phone number.

“text me when you want bird boy” Sam read, laughing a little, he turned to bucky, craning his neck to read his, “what’s your say” Bucky had a bashful smile on his face.

“oh just to text them whenever” bucky cleared his throat, shoving the piece of paper in his pocket.

i really hope we can hang out properly soon :) the paper read, scribbled under was a list of drinks you wanted him to try. Buckys heart fluttered at the action, the whole time he was with Sam you were the only thing he was thinking about.

When he finally got back to his apartment bucky texted you, heart racing as he sent the text.

hi it’s bucky, i got your note let me know when you’re free :-)

Your heart jumped at the message, the biggest smile on your face as you read the text over again, giggling as you replied.

hi buck!! I’m free this weekend actually :]

The two of you made plans quickly, excited for a proper date and not just stealing glances and making small talk when he ordered his drink or picked it up from the counter.

When Saturday evening came bucky was frantic, texting sam and asking what clothes he should wear, recalling the time he made fun of his clothes before he met you the first time.

You were nervous as you got ready, hands shaking slightly as you changed into some nice clothing. You checked yourself out in the mirror and smiled, fixing your hair a bit.

The doorbell rang and you jumped, heart racing as you walked to the door, opening it with a smile.

Bucky stood there with roses in his hands, a bright smile on his face. He chocked on his breath a little as he took you in, it was the first time he’d seen you out of uniform and god you were perfect.

“oh thank you!” You blushed, smiling as you took the flowers from him, “come in I’ll just put these in water” you smiled, letting him in and quickly moving to put the flowers in a vase.

Your apartment was so comforting, bucky felt like he was safe there, he felt so at peace despite his heart racing in his chest.

“ready?” You asked and bucky smiled, he could hear the way your heart raced after you not so secretly checked him out. He was wearing a dark blue t shirt and a leather jacket along with some black pants.

“so where are we going?” You questioned and bucky smiled, turning to look at you nervously before focusing on the road again.

“is the fair okay? I know there’s one in town and I’ve been wanting to go but-” he rambled and you cut him off excitedly.

“i love the fair! I’m really good at those shooting games y’know” you bragged and bucky smiled, excited to see how skilled you were. “however i will not compete against you” you added quickly, making bucky frown.

“too scared I’ll beat you doll?” Bucky smirked and your heart raced at the nickname, your comeback dying on your lips. Bucky smiled as you sat there with your mouth open, looking away quickly before changing the subject.

As the two of you arrived bucky immediately knew he made the right choice, the way you had the widest smile on your face as you pointed everything out to him, eyes wide as you saw the giant dinosaur plush.

“you have a metal arm dont you?” You whispered and bucky smiled, nodding his head. “would it be, i don’t know, immoral for you to use it to get that dinosaur plush?” You blushed, giggling as bucky gasped at you.

“i cant believe you!” He teased and you frowned, bucky smiled at you, taking your hand in his and walking towards the game. He handed the man the tickets to play and held the heavy ball in his hands.

“you just have to knock all three cups over” the man spoke and bucky nodded, placing the ball in his right hand before throwing it, easily knocking the cups down.

“yay!” You cheered, running next to bucky and hugging him, the man handed you the giant plush and you smiled, staring at bucky with starry eyes.

“didn’t even use your metal arms sergeant” you teased and Buckys heart lurched at the titles. His heart was in frenzy as you smirked up at him.

“I’m a super soldier doll” he smiled at your face turned into one of realization, nodding your head.

“right, i forgot about that” you mumbled, struggling to keep the dinosaur plush from touching the ground, bucky smiled at you before he took it from your hands, easily tucking it under his arm.

“thanks” you blushed and bucky nodded, a smile on his face as he replied.

“cant have my best girl struggling on our first date can we” you blushed at his words, looking at him with a bright smile.

“first? as in more to come?” You questioned, a smile on your face as you stopped in your tracks, the lights from some ride illuminating your face in reds and pinks. Bucky nodded, suddenly his confidence was sizzling away.

“I mean unless you don’t want to that’s fine too i just- i mean” bucky rambled and you watched him struggle for a bit, biting your bottom lip before stopping him.

“I’d love to go on more dates” you spoke up, bucky smiled at you, letting out a small breath, “now let’s go to the Ferris wheel!” You easily slipping your hand in his.

Everything felt so easy with bucky, it never felt forced. The two of you constantly texting and calling when you weren’t together and grabbing dinner and going on dates more and more often. It was only a matter of time before bucky asked you out, everything falling into place for the two of you.

The two of you were in bed, you were cuddled up into his side as you watched a documentary on some lions. Bucky ran his fingers through your hair and you sighed, relaxing into his touch. It had been almost two years since the two of you went on your first date, but to bucky it felt like yesterday.

“you know i love you, right doll” he spoke suddenly and you looked at him, confused before nodding.

“i love you too loverboy” you replied, sitting up and kissing his cheek.

“don’t know where I’d be without you” he spoke softly, his blue eyes meeting yours, he smiled softly. “I used to think i was broken and no one would want me” he mumbled and you frowned, letting him continue.

“the only reason sam took me to that cafe was because i was stuck in this loop and i was going crazy” he laughed softly, “i thought i was never gonna get out of this funk but then” he stopped.

You looked at him, confused as he smiled at you, peppering kissing all over your face before caressing your cheek and kissing your forehead.

“then what?” You whispered, a smile on your face when you realized what he was going to say.

“then you came along” he replied, smiling at the way you wiggled to face him.

“you took me and you made me into a better person, you made my life so much better and now it’s like there’s a symphony playing anytime in with you” he spoke, a smile on his face when you reached your hand out and ran your fingers through his hair. You stopped your hand at the nape of his neck, pushing him towards you and crashing your lips onto his.

It was sloppy and passionate, but it was sweet. The two of you smiling into the kiss before giving him one last peck and pulling away.

“oh lovebug, that songs always been inside you, just needed a little tuning to get it right” you replied, taking him into your arms as he laid down on your chest.

For once, bucky was grateful sam had forced him to go out, he was grateful that you were working that day and you recommend him a drink. He was grateful that you went to the fair with him and you liked him enough to go on another date.

Bucky no longer wished to be like you, he didn’t long for the person he was in the 40s. He didn’t wish he could change into someone else anymore.

He didn’t because he was more himself than he had ever been. He was happy and he was at peace, he was who he had always wanted to become. He didn’t feel like he was stuck in the shadows in a constant loop.

Bucky smiled as you placed a gentle kiss on top of his head, mumbling a soft ‘i love you.’

Bucky felt happy, he felt at home and he felt in love. He was finally at peace with his life now that you were in it. You helped him become who he was, pushed him to be better and to change into who he wanted to be.

[avengersassemble-fics]

Stark Legacy

part 01/?? "the only person"

master list

word count 4.3k

an: :3 welcome to a new fic bc idk how to control myself

WARNING: this part does depict alcohol usage, and mentions of other substances a character uses to cope (though nothing is explicitly mentioned).

“An unemployment and housing crisis skyrockets to higher levels as people still struggle to adjust and accommodate the population we had years ago. Streets are littered with people seeking hope-”

“According to world economists, the surge in loan denials is leading to an unprecedented end, leaving the experts scrambling for a way to get the economy back on track, also claiming that the Global Repatriation Council may be asking for too much-”

“Protests break out across Switzerland as support for the group known as the Flag Smashers rises, with the Global Repatriation Council denying any comment on the matter, as well as refusing to comment on the rumours that the newly titled Captain America is investigating the matter-”

“What can we expect from Stark Industries now that Tony Stark is no longer with us? Pepper Potts, while having led the company in a positive direction prior to the Blip, has had no new developments over the last six months. With these newfound challenges the world is facing we’re left to wonder.. Who is going to step up as the ingenious mind behind new innovation? Will the youngest Stark continue on in the steps of father and brother, or are we seeing the end of the Stark Legacy?”

Click.

Silence filled the blue colored cottage that was tucked away at the end of the street in Ransdorp. Though dim and lifeless inside the cottage, outside the sun shined while birds chirped away happily and the sound of children playing echoed through the air. But inside the cottage, all alone, someone stood and tossed a television remote back onto the couch that was once occupied. They shed the blanket that had been wrapped around their shoulders all night while listening to all the different news reports, and entering a small bedroom and dressed in the dark. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and after shuffling through the cottage to grab a few things, the back doors were pushed and locked open, and a breeze blew through the house.

You squinted as you put a sun hat on and oversized sunglasses, overlooking the green oasis you had worked on every day for the last six months. Pushing away the thoughts of what the news had been saying, you stepped down onto the wooden patio that lined the back door and carried a hefty packed bag with you to the garden you had planted. You set the bag down and kneeled into the soft grass, and got to work on picking on fresh vegetables to use for your dinner later. Lucky for you, the soil was perfect here.

So… How have the last six months been for you?

Well the garden was a distraction your neighbor had suggested after finally catching you one day while throwing out a bag full of alcohol bottles you had consumed. You could see her take a second glance over your disheveled appearance, but she ignored it for the most part (which thankfully she did, you were a little sick of people telling you how to feel at the time). Naturally, instead of working through your problems, you distracted yourself from them.

But in all honesty… It’s been hard. Maybe it was selfish of you to think so, but you felt like you had been dealt one of the shittiest hands from the universe. The pressure from the world after… After Tony’s death was suffocating. As more paparazzi followed you around, the worse that anxiety had gotten. With that newfound attention, you had also been summoned by the United States government to attest for your time as a HYDRA agent. Lucky for you, in some way, they dropped any serious charges due to your restraint under the program, but sentenced you to weekly therapy sessions (since SHIELD had denied to disclose your mental capabilities). To your knowledge, Bucky Barnes had been offered a similar deal. The therapy lasted all of a month before you… Negotiated your way out of it, and returned to this safe place.

You drowned yourself in drinks and other activities after leaving New York, which in turn made your black-out episodes reappear, which had become evident as the photographed wall in your second bedroom started to be crossed out fast. You couldn’t help but twitch at the thought, and steered clear of that subject. But as of five months ago, you were all but cut off from all things Avengers.

Everyone had gone their own separate ways for the most part. Wanda was off the radar, Sam had gone and gotten a contract with the Air Force, Clint got his family back, Rhodey was some top notch Air Force guy (you didn’t really know what he was up to nowadays), Thor was gone offworld, Scott was making up for lost time with his family, and Bucky… Well, you didn’t know much about that situation either. Sam had tried to reach out after everything, but in one of your drunken states you threw your phone in the Weersloot river. You didn’t need a reminder of that day, or those few weeks even.

You never played the message Happy had given you from Tony. You never had the courage to do so, and you had it tucked away in your room safe and sound. Honestly? You were starting to think you never would be ready to hear what Tony had to say to you before he died. You just couldn’t bear to hear it, never would… Because if he even mentioned someone’s name you didn’t know how you would react.

When you started to think about Steve, you picked up a drink to take your mind off it. You had yet to come to terms with him leaving, because it still hurt like the day it happened.

Losing Tony was the worst thing that could’ve happened in your eyes. He was your family, though Pepper and Morgan had become your family too, Tony was the last piece of your family you could hold onto. The last shred to the past you fought so hard to remember and cherish, and now him and that part of you was gone. He was your everything. He always would be.

But Steve? Losing Steve wasn’t something you had ever even considered. While Tony was your soul, Steve was your heart. Despite everything you two had been through, the feelings hurt and the years it took to make it back together, Steve always had your heart. He was the man you wanted to fall asleep with and wake up to. He was the man you talked about growing old with, what life would be like if he gave up the Captain America mantle, he was supposed to be your future...

And then he stayed in the past, and left you here confused. Hurt. Alone.

You lost the two people you had left in the world. Your heart and your soul. And it was the most devastating blow you had ever felt… Everyday you wondered how someone comes back from something like that, if it was even possible.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a hefty softball landed in a thud in your garden and smushed one of your little tomatoes. You blinked at the sight before grabbing the ball and looking up to see the familiar short boy next door pulling himself up on the fence that separated your yard from his, and you grabbed a rag from your bag and wiped the softball off.

“Je vernielt in zijn eentje mijn tuin, weet je,” (You’re single-handedly ruining my garden, you know) you said to the boy and looked up at him through your sunglasses.

“Vergeef mij,” (Forgive me) he said and rested his head on his hands to watch you finish wiping his ball off. “Mijn vader wilde niet met mij spelen” (My dad wouldn’t play with me).

You stopped wiping for a moment and could see the sad look in the kids face. You smiled softly and stood, making your way over to the fence and handing him his ball back, though his expression didn’t change.

“Vraag het me de volgende keer dat je wilt spelen, oké?” (Next time you want to play, come ask me, okay?) You told him, and the smile reappeared on his face and he gave you a nod. You ruffled his hair as he jumped back off the fence and played once again. You went back to your bag, now full with vegetables, and picked it up to head back inside. You had a sweet pasta recipe to try tonight, and you think what you selected should work great-

You stopped in your tracks right before the back door. You lowered your sunglasses and lowered your gaze to the ground as you tried to focus on the sound in the air, the shift in the environment. You may have been slightly hungover but the presence was not hard to miss. You straightened your stance and gripped your sunglasses in your fist.

“Sam?” You called out. At first there wasn’t any rustling, but after a few moments you heard your back gate unlock and creak open, and that’s when you could hear the extra set of footsteps. You slowly turned around to face who had finally tracked you down, and were met with Sam Wilson… And Bucky Barnes in tow.

“What are you doing here?” You more so asked Sam. The pair glanced at one another and Bucky nodded his head at his partner in crime (God, you could just tell they were up to something) and Sam shoved his hands into the jacket he had been wearing.

“We came to see you, check in on how you’re doing,” Sam said. You chuckled a bit, and shook your head.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you called him out. “What are you really doing here?”

“We need your help,” Bucky said. You bit your tongue and looked them over, maybe just a little curious as to what was going on. Just a little. “We stumbled onto something that I think you may have some information on.”

You hummed to yourself for a moment, thinking it over. Truthfully, the last thing you needed was whatever this was. So you shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. “I’m afraid I can’t help, but thanks for thinking of me.”

You turned your back on them and stepped up a couple steps into your house, and was all but ready to close the door to the world and close yourself off from Sam and Bucky, but Bucky took a step forward.

“There’s more super soldiers out there,” Bucky said in a serious tone. You stopped in your tracks, gripping onto your door for a few moments before looking back out to the pair. Bucky was watching you intently, in a stare you had only seen on him once before (which you didn’t want to recount at the moment). There was movement near the fence, and your eyes darted there to see the neighbor boy peeping his head over to see what was going on. When his gaze met yours, and you gave him “the look” he disappeared just as quickly as he appeared, and you looked back at the pair standing in your yard and against all better judgement, motioned your head behind you. Understanding your cue, Sam led the way inside, and you shut the door quickly behind Bucky.

You moved around the burly super soldier and brushed past Sam to set your bag of veggies in your kitchen. You had to take a moment to compose yourself before facing the duo who had been watching you intently. “Okay.. Go on. What do you mean there’s more super soldiers?”

Sam grabbed something from his pocket, a phone it looked like, and pulled something up before handing you the device. You hesitantly took it and looked down at the phone, where a video began playing of the recent Gasel Bank heist. You watched as someone got beaten to the ground, but what was astonishing was the sheer strength the masked person showed. Captivated, you carried the device into the living room and plopped down into the cushions of your sofa and watched more footage, this time up close from what you could guess were Dumb and Dumber who moved to hover over you.

“We were hoping you might know something,” Sam said. You handed his phone back to him which he graciously accepted, and you tapped your fingers together in thought before looking over at Bucky.

“What makes you think I know anything?” You asked. Bucky seemed to huff in annoyance at your questioning him, in all honesty you just wanted to hear him say it.

“You and I both know what went into the replication of that serum, your program especially,” Bucky said. You felt a lump form at the back of your throat and you casted your eyes downward. “You were still there after me… Did they perfect Stark’s serum?”

You looked back up at his question, and you held his gaze for a moment. You couldn’t believe this was how your day was turning, and you were pissed that he of all people were bringing up your past, like you volunteered for any of that shit.  You lightly bounced your leg as you fought to remember what you had known.

“HYDRA had been unsuccessful in using my father’s formula of the serum again, even after you managed to escape their hold,” you started. You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat and leaned back into the couch, averting your gaze from Bucky to the floor as you searched your memory. “They brought in a scientist, but it wasn’t my op, and it was on a need to know basis. The only reason we knew they started the research again was they started taking people from the Phantom program to test the serum on.”

“Phantom program?” Sam asked.

“That’s what they called us,” you mumbled. “All of us were deemed dead so… It was only fitting.”

“Did the scientist perfect the serum?” Bucky asked. You shrugged your shoulders and met his look again.

“Didn’t think so,” you answered honestly. “So if there’s serum still out there, he has to be your guy. Though I can say I didn’t see any kind of sign of that activity when working with SHIELD.”

“But it’s a start,” Sam nodded and Bucky looked his way. The two started sharing odd glances, and you watched in confusion. Sam suddenly looked your way and motioned around. “Think you could spare some time and do this mission with us?”

“Sam-” Bucky began to say as a warning, but you chuckled a bit which made him stop.

“I don’t do this anymore,” you told them as you motioned between them.

“Come on (Y/N),” Sam tried to reason as you stood up and walked your way back into the kitchen and opened up a cabinet in search of tonight’s bottle of wine to go with dinner. “I get that you’re going through it, I really do, but-”

Just as you managed to select the perfect medium-bodied red wine, Sam had come up beside you and took the bottle out of your hand. “This isn’t going to help you.”

“Yeah Sam and what is?” You asked while crossing your arms. “Because right now the only thing that would help me out is to see my brother again but guess what! It’s not going to fucking happen! It’s just me, here, and all by myself. All by myself…”

Your words trailed off as a heaviness grew in your chest. The atmosphere in the room was a lot more stuffy, and you would rather curl up and disappear then let Sam (and Bucky) see you cry. But here you fucking were, with Sam seeing the tears build up in your eyes and the look he gave you, you wanted to be mad but the only thing that you could seem to feel was just sad. You blinked back the feeling and took a glance back at Bucky, who stood in your living room and averted his gaze. You looked back at Sam, and put on the best front you could.

“You’re welcome to stay for the night, someone can take the bed in my room and someone can take the couch, but tomorrow? We go our separate ways again,” you said in a low tone. Sam’s look at you was… Disappointment. Before the sentiment could settle on your already guilty conscience you turned around and grabbed your keys and a peacoat and stopped at the front door. “Help yourselves to whatever you need.”

With that, you pulled the door open and just as swiftly shut behind you. The cottage walls shook for a moment before settling to a silence inside. Sam looked down at the bottle in his hand and set it back onto the counter before looking Bucky’s way, who still looked annoyed.

“What?” Bucky defensively asked when he noticed Sam’s stare. Sam shook his head at him and pushed the wine bottle to the back of the counter.

“You pushed that too hard,” Sam said, to which Bucky scoffed.

“Me? You’re the one who asked her to join us which, by the way, where did that come from?” Bucky questioned as Sam came back to the living room and sat down on the couch. Sam leaned forward with his arms on his legs and rubbed his hands together.

“Take a look around Robo-cop,” Sam emphasized and Bucky let out an annoyed sigh. “You’re seeing what I’m seeing, right?”

Bucky looked around at your surroundings. He wouldn’t peg it as chaotic, but he also couldn’t pin it as put together. There were personal touches here and there, but it didn’t feel like you belonged here. Bucky wasn’t blind to what was going on here, but he also didn’t see how that pertained to what Sam was suggesting.

“Sam, we came for some information, we got it, so why don’t you tell me what you’re trying to say,” Bucky replied. Sam rolled his eyes and leaned back into the cushions.

“We let her come here, by herself, even knowing how devastated she was after Tony died,” Sam explained. Bucky’s eyes darted to the floor at the memory of him following you out to that shed the day of Tony’s funeral, and the empty expression your eyes held. “Hell, we don’t even know how she felt about Steve. We should’ve been here for this. And that makes us shitty friends.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say we’re friends-”

“Oh I’m sorry, who's the one that said she owed you a favor?” Sam asked and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“I did, but that doesn’t mean-”

“Nah ah,” Sam cut him off and Bucky rolled his eyes. “If you two owe one another favors, then your friends.”

“That’s sound logic, Sam,” Bucky sarcastically said.

You tossed your glass bottle of whatever the hell it was you drank earlier into a trash can on your way back home. You pulled your keys out of your jacket pocket and jingled them around until you found your house key and hipped quietly. Your cottage was just in view and all the lights were out. You grumbled to yourself as you neared, forced to remember what had happened earlier in the day (and boy did you work hard to forget that Sam and bucky were at your lace haha). You stumbled up the two steps to your door and used the wall to steady yourself, before quietly shoving your key into the door and pushed the door open.

It took a second to adjust to the environment, but the whole cottage was pitch black, besides whatever light from the moon managed to filter in. You carefully walked around the couch and glanced down at who occupied it, and when you saw Sam peacefully asleep you then looked at the door to your room and shuddered at the fact Bucky must’ve taken residence in there. You huffed a bit, and pulled a spare blanket out of a basket and moved to the back door. When you finally got outside and shut the door to not disturb your guest you tossed your blanket onto the patio sofa you had and kicked your shoes off.

After shedding yourself of your peacoat and plopping down on the hard cushions, you inwardly cursed the two men inside. You were doing just fine before their arrival, you had a schedule of self loathing and drinking then sleeping that they were interrupting. You just weren’t looking forward to the repercussions of tonight’s sleep. You laid back across the sofa and looked up at the sky, though nothing was there anymore. Or at least there wasn’t anything you could see.

Let’s be honest here. The reason you had turned to drinking was because of the fuzzy feeling you got after awhile. Your mind got to drift to something else besides the memories of your past, like… what to drink next, or in this case, is that a star or an airplane? It made the moment more simple, it made you forget who you were until you woke up again. That didn’t mean you didn’t resent yourself for your actions, but you just added that to the list of reasons why your endgame was the best resolution. You just weren’t ready to tell anyone what that endgame was.

Your gate creaked and you tilted your head to look in that direction. You could barely make out the figure as they neared, Bucky’s face became more clear. You looked back up to the sky and shook your head a bit to yourself. Bucky came to a stop close to you, and sighed a bit.

“You should go inside,” He said quietly.

“You should just leave me alone,” you quipped back to him. Though you couldn’t see it, Bucky rolled his eyes at your drunken response. You suddenly felt a lot more sober, and you turned your head to face him. “You had no right, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked and you huffed.

“You had no right to bring up the Phantom program. I didn’t tell anyone about that, not even Tony,” you admitted to him. Bucky bit his tongue and looked up at the sky for a moment to collect himself. “I didn’t want anyone to go digging into the extent of that.”

“I didn’t know,” Bucky admitted. You blinked at him as he caught your gaze again. “Look… I’m sorry.”

You fell silent before letting out a small sigh and adjusting yourself to be a little more comfortable, your head finally starting to feel dizzy again. But Bucky wasn’t ready to settle this, he shifted his weight and turned to face you.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Bucky asked. Your eyes fluttered back open and you looked over at him. He had taken a step closer, and hovered over you, and you raised a brow.

“What are you talking about?” You asked him this time.

“The drinking,” Bucky pointed out. You huffed and turned your head in the opposite direction into the cushions, and Bucky rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to help you know.”

“Yeah and how would you know?” You asked and looked back at him. Bucky leaned down to get in your face, and you tried to move back from him.

“Because I’m probably the only person who really knows what’s going on in your head.”

You bit your tongue, and Bucky backed off. In a bit of a daze, you plopped back down onto the cushions and pulled the blanket you brought out up to your chin. Bucky rolled his eyes at you shutting him down, and he moved to the door to go inside. The sooner the morning came and Sam and he could leave, the better for him.

“I never blamed you, you know,” you said in a light voice. Bucky stopped in his tracks and looked over at you. Your eyes were closed, and you were breathing evenly. Bucky retracted his hand from the door knob and took a couple steps closer. He needed to hear that again.

“What did you say?” He asked. You stirred a bit, but didn’t answer him. Carefully, Bucky used his gloved hand to touch your shoulder, and give you a small shake. When you still didn’t say anything, Bucky sighed and looked between the door and you and cursed in his head.

Bucky carefully slid an arm under your shoulders, and then hooked his other under your legs. He hoisted you up into his arms and into his chest, and your head rolled into his arm. Bucky shook his head at it and carefully brought you back inside, and past the couch, and pushed your room door open with his foot. Bucky sat himself on the edge of your bed and balanced you in his lap with one arm, and pulled your blankets open with a free hand. When he finally got you into your own bed, he took the blanket you had outside from you and tossed it onto his shoulder, and pulled the blankets on the bed onto you. Bucky stood from your bed, and before leaving the room he took a final glance at you as you stirred just slightly.

Bucky closed your door, and walked back towards the couch and settled himself onto the floor. As his back met the floor, he couldn’t help but wonder if you meant what you said, about not blaming him for what happened. One thing he did know was he meant what he said. Bucky stared at the door to the second room in the house, and he shook his head.

If there was one person he truly wanted to make amends with, it was you. After all, you were on his list of names.

- - - - - - - - - -

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[watevermelon]

Jealous | Eita Semi x Reader

✧ Summary: You thought you were content with your relationship so far - Semi was your best friend and these past few years were some of the most memorable. But all of that quickly changes with some outside forces. ➳ Tags: Angst with a happy ending; some humor

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Four years ago, it would have been a strange sight to see you, an up-and-rising wing-spiker, sitting on the sideline of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team. Being the female team’s manager was nice, but just as ambiguous as the adjective. You sorely ached to be back as an active member on the court and you seemed to radiate that very thought throughout the schoolyear.

At the end of your first-year you were switched from official wing-spiker to sub-pinch server. That was a huge demotion in your eyes, but a position you would gladly accept now. You knees were deteriorating from overuse and it was only facilitated at the Spring Tournament during your first-year. A bad-land from a spike and you tore your ACL. From that injury, there was no going back. That took you off the regular team for the rest of the year, since your doctor recommended six-months of healing.

Torn ACL’s do not heal and you did not want to undergo surgery, since it would only prolong your time away from the court. That decision was terrible in itself, but you reasoned that your volleyball career would end after high-school. So the long-term implications did not affect your future in sports since you did not envision one.

But your career ended sooner than you thought.

You did not seek the advice of the athletic trainer or even your coach and attempted to do the same work-outs as the rest of the team. And for a good amount of time, they bought your act. It seemed you were a miraculous healer, despite the urgings of both your parents and physicians. Dates set aside for physical therapy were skipped and you opted to make yourself useful to the team.

But you were doing just the opposite.

The women of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team had their eyes set on nationals and it seemed that you were on the right track. The team earned their spot in the finals of the Interhigh Tournament, garnering attention against Niiyama High. You were set to serve, aiming directly for the serious face of Amanai Kanoka. Mid-stride, something did not feel right and you landed, not on your feet, but on your front-side.

You looked up from your prone form on the ground to see the horrified faces of your teammates and opponents. The usually loud section of Shiratorizawa’s student body was stunned silent and everyone’s eyes were fixated on your figure. First aid was able to hoist your motionless body onto a stretcher and time seemed to momentarily stop. You could still distinctly recall the perturbed faces of your friends and family. In that very instant, you felt your heart crack and silently whispered goodbye to your beloved sport.

Your torn ACL developed into a long-lasting chronic deficiency and you were slowly losing control in knee movement.

Pity. 

That was the only word to describe the certain expression other people gave you after the fact. Volleyball held a large amount of prominence on campus and the fact that nearly everyone saw your fall – it was humiliating. You were taken completely off the team and instead ushered into surgery and rehabilitation for your knee.

Many of your teammates attempted to show compassion and understanding for your situation, but they would never truly understand. You had accepted, deep in your heart, that even if you had undergone surgery early your knee would continually depreciate. It was only a matter of time.

The coach could understand your reasoning, but cursed your insolence. It hurt her that you desperately wanted to help the team, to the point of sacrificing your future. If she had known, she would have taken you off the starting-line in an instant. But there was no second chance, no benefit in asking what if’s.

The previous manager of the women’s team was leaving with graduation and you inherited her spot. On more than one occasion, you wondered if staying on as manager would really help you emotionally. It was your own personal hell, watching your previous teammates engage in volleyball and never getting the chance to join.

Graduation liberated many of your friends and majority of the people who observed your deterioration first-hand were gone. New volleyball teams were forming and you missed most of their names. Without the use of it on the court, it was harder to connect and really converse with the fresh first-years. You knew the names of the promising few – Goshiki Tsutomu was a hard one to miss. There were also two exemplary female wing-spikers, but Shiratorizawa’s team ran both deep and wide.

With all this distance, you would often miss much of the drama from those outside your year. Many of the other volleyball players made an effort not to bar you and updated you daily on news. Tendou was the number one instigator and you would often hear a warped version of the gossip from him first.

None of the male players were in the same class, ironically. There was one in each class and you shared yours with Eita Semi for the past three years. You were the closest to the mom of the group and he would usually clarify new gossip to you.

The groupchat shared amongst both the men’s and women’s volleyball team usually went ignored in your pocket. Once in a while, you would contribute a dank meme or comment. But for now, you tended to silently witness the drama unfold. Amongst the newly minted third-years was a groupchat just for you guys, both the girls and boys teams, which was the one you and Tendou seemed to haunt. 

As such, you were texting away in the middle of class. You sat with Semi, who was diligently writing notes and following along with the teacher. Neither had yet to see you, but no matter who it was, they would pluck the phone right out of your hands.

GC: We’re the captains now. <(￣︶￣)>

12:43    From:s u f f e r i n g  (。□°）              I’m just saying, we can fight him.

12:43    From: Ushiwaka-sama              I would prefer to leave the setter intact

12:43    From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ）              Are we ignoring the problem of Goshiki????

12:43     From: Captain-Sama!               He’s a wing-spiker not a middle-blocker. You don’t have to worry about your spot

12:43     From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ）               ExCuSe youuuuuuuuuuu

12:44     From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ)               I wouldn’t be afraid even if he was

It was severely clear to all volleyball members that your spot as a regular was never safe (unless of course your name started with a U and ended with -shiwaka.)

The coaches of either team were relentless in their words and would drop a team member if they showed enough weakness. And you would not be surprised even in the slightest if the essential vice-captain of the men’s team was benched for the newfound first-year. The anomaly of Goshiki Tsutomu could be found in the fact that he seemed to be the complete foil of his older teammates. Despite this, he showed the most promise and you almost wanted to bet money that he would be a regular by the Spring High Tournament.

12:44    From: Ushiwaka-sama               Your numerable amount of question marks show your lie.

12:44     From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ）               Why don’t you shut the fuck up

12:44     From: Ushiwaka-sama               But I didn’t say anything

12:45    From: Captain-Sama!              LMAO but seriously Soekawa has nothing to worry about

12:45     From: s u f f e r i n g  (。□°）               Even if he does I think we can take the coconut-head.

12:45    From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ）               O mi god good one (f/n) I’m about to set his nickname as that

12:46    From: Okaasan/Eita              Why don’t you take your own advice and stfu salami

12:46    From: Captain-Sama                 S C R E A M I N G

Okaasan/Eita has changed “Guess Monster (▼へ▼メ)” ‘s nickname to, “the most tender Salami”.

12:46    From: s u f f e r i n g  (。□° )               I can’t breathe

12:47     From: Ushiwaka-sama               Lol

True to your word, you were laughing with almost no control while Semi was trying not to have his smile break his stern façade. You covered your mouth to stifle the giggles and the fact that the literal volleyball idiot wrote “Lol” you had no doubt he was laughing as well a few classrooms over.

Those in your immediate vicinity subtly turned to look at you and you had to pretend to bend-down to pick up a pencil to hide your laughter. You thanked Semi for the umpteenth time for grabbing these seats in the back that were far from the teacher’s reproach.

Once you were settled, Semi commented, “The aim of my remark was to calm you all down.”

It was hard to focus in class usually, but after a morning like that you were done. English was your forte and you had no problems with the subject, even in an advanced class focused on the western world’s literature. The Great Gatsby was your shit.

13:34    From: Captain-Sama               I have detention now Eita. I hope youre happy

13:34    From: Okaasan/Eita              What did I do????

13:34    From: Captain-Sama              I literally started screaming at the name

13:34    the most tender Salami              At least someone else is suffering too

13:34    the most tender Salami              My ass is getting blasted on the shared gc help

13:35    From: s u f f e r i n g  (。□° )              Hey remember that time you locked me in the men’s locker room

13:35    From: s u f f e r i n g  (。□° )              Karma beyotch

13:35     From: the most tender Salami               LMAo thanks for that reminder ugh that was the funniest day I almost feel better

You frowned at your phone and Semi noticed your reaction, “That’s your fault. You brought it up.”

The two of you were done with class for the rest of the day and were casually lounging around his dorm room. His roommate, Reon Ōhira, was in class 4 and had a different schedule from the two of you.

You were laid-out across his bed, backpack carelessly thrown on the floor against his desk. Semi was previously occupied with whatever he does on his laptop, but now he was catching-up with the groupchat. This was incredibly normal and it was almost second-nature for you to lounge in his room. Your roommate, the captain of the women’s team, often noted this with certain intentions.

It was no secret that you and Semi were something.

You flirted nonchalantly and he had an overall friendly personality — it seemed entirely natural. Your relationship had blurred lines and no clear mutual understanding. The two of you could hold hands and he could get away with the occasional kiss on your cheek. And if anyone asked if you were in a relationship, you would say no. Semi would do the same.

There was one occasion during your second-year that pushed Semi’s buttons to the point where he made your relationship known. You could count the amount of female third-years on your hand and still have fingers to spare. This, in Tendou’s eyes, left barely any possible suitors that he would seriously be interested in. And of all people, the eyes of the guess monster settled on you.

Tendou was a somewhat of a Kuudere, in your words. He was not cold, but incredibly blunt and cared on the inside. He had the type of attitude that would not seem to care if their crush noticed them. Instead, he took it a step further, to compliment said crush to other people and claim not to like them. And because he was so damn loud and incredibly obvious, the other male volleyball players seemed to notice and their gazes would casually linger on you.

You would dismiss their sudden interest as only aesthetic-deep and not take any other crushes seriously, especially Tendou. His crush bounced from girl to girl and this was a well-known fact, simply because he could admire a good looking person and not get emotionally attached. However, this was easier when the girl was in his class and not as immediate as on the volleyball team.

Tendou would highlight the specific beauty of your smile or hair casually and the other third-years would calmly agree. Semi could see it all. He was in a private groupchat with those boys and you were the topic of their conversation more than once. He would see the friendly pat on the head from Reon as he complimented your cross-spike. Or how you would converse with Ushijima and his eyes would loiter even after you walked away. Or how you would smile brightly at Yunohama’s jokes.

Tendou and Ushijima’s shared dorm was secretly party central, the later surprisingly okay with socializing on a daily basis. But you normally hung-out with Semi, in his room. And recently you had been getting more and more invitations to their room. He was hella annoyed and would often drag you right after class to chill with him instead.

This did not change the fact that Tendou was aggressive and this led to the day of Semi’s snapping. Tendou was waiting outside of your classroom and once he spotted you, he stepped right between you and Semi to sling a lazy arm across your shoulders.

“Finally we are graced with Friday. No homework to worry about for tomorrow and even better, it’s a rest day for volleyball!” Tendou was narrating the day as the three of you walked, Semi pushed all the way to the side. “Shall we let go of our inhibitions to celebrate this rare occasion?”

You lightly attempted to push off his hold on you, but he did not budge. “Sorry Tendou, not exactly in the mood to go off campus tonight.”

“That’s perfectly alright with me,” He deflected the rejection, “Waka is leaving tomorrow morning so we can chill in the dorm.” Certain ideas were undoubtedly forming in the minds of two growing teenage boys and Semi did not hide his disapproval. Instead, he sighed loudly and had the urge to grab you right out of Tendou’s grasp.

“What do you plan on doing with just me tonight, Tendou?” You teased.

He only laughed and ignored your question, “So how about it?"

“I prefer to get my homework done before the weekend, so that’s what I’ll be preoccupied with tonight.” You answered and Semi smirked at your response.

He bristled at your retort and kept pushing, “Well. I know you like that cheesecake place downtown—”

“Can’t you take a hint, Tendou?” Semi asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, but once I lay my eyes on a beautiful girl there’s no way I’ll let her go.” Tendou affirmed and tightened his hold on your shoulders.

You blushed at his confidence, “Ha. Well, determination is a dangerous thing.” Semi noted your flushed appearance and the fact that you had not pulled away from his hold.

No way, not on his watch.

Your flustered looks and affectionate embraces were meant for him and him alone.

Was Tendou’s unwavering resolve really getting to you? The red-head would constantly shower you with compliments and it was only a matter of time that it would infiltrate your brain. Meanwhile, he would offer you vague responses and a sparse amount of sentiments.

With his mind made-up, Semi grabbed you right out of Tendou’s filthy arms and into his own. “Sorry. But she’ll be busy with me.” You were nestled underneath his neck and his arm was wrapped lightly around your waist.

The message he was sending was clear and if it was not, Semi sure as hell would be ready to provide more.

Instead of being heart-broken or defensive, Tendou immediately turned the situation around, “Busy doing what?” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“Staying the hell away from you.” Semi sassily replied and attempted to walk away with you in his grasp.

Tendou took the message in stride and went further to ship the two of you together for the rest of the schoolyear. The others must have received the message and they laid off from their previous flirting. Well, most of them. The only person unaffected by Semi’s wrath was the great volleyball idiot himself. But it was generally understood that he never really knew the implications of his actions.

Since then, there was no real progression in your public and private relationship with Semi. You hit every milestone with stride: prolonged hugs, kisses on the cheek, and even a sleepover when your roommate was away with her boyfriend. You were happy with how things were now and you feared if you talked about it, it would end. With no real reason to address the subject, the two of you continued with your relationship. He was there when you were sad and you surely did the same for him.

The second-year of high-school was your turning point. Your first-year friendship could be described as average, simply two members of the same game. Classmates and admirers of volleyball, you were cordial for ordinary reasons. After your injury, it was hard to personally connect with anyone.

But Semi could do what the others could not. Your second-year came with the introduction of Kenjirō Shirabu. He was a salty little douche and before the Spring High Tournament he was the official setter for the men’s volleyball team. The teammates that Semi had fostered and grown with since middle school were suddenly dragged away from him. And there was nothing he could do. His best was suddenly not good enough and he fell short to a first-year.

You connected on a level that the others could not understand. Being cut from a team was like being abandoned, but it was no one’s fault but your own. And that fact hurt more than anything. Try as you might, there was nothing either of you could really do to regain your prominence.

You found comfort in one another and it was highly noted by the other team members.

“What’s with the face?” Semi asked, noting your saddened facial expressions.

You paused and then sat-up, “We’re graduating this year.”

“Just because we’re leaving this school, doesn’t mean we’ll stop being friends.” Semi comforted. Friends… That word would continue to haunt you. You were friends, incredibly close with few secrets between the two of you. Your relationship was once in a lifetime and soon there would be more than emotional barriers separating you two.

It was not until the autumn formal that you recognized first-hand the complications of desire.

Someone asked Semi to the formal. And it had not been you. But he still said yes.

You heard this secondhand from Reon, a week after the girl had initially asked. Did he hesitate? Did he even think of you? Did he… have feelings for the girl?

She was someone unrecognizable from Ushijima’s class and you had spotted her after having lunch with just the ace. Social Media was a big thing and of course Shiratorizawa Academy had a team-spirit page that highlighted all sorts of shit. And of course, there were the posts about who was going with who to the formal. ((promposals cough))

You were unsure if you had ever seen her before. But after noticing her, you seemed to see her everywhere. She was beautiful in every way you were not – incredibly feminine and keeping up with her appearance. Flowing blonde hair that went past her elbows and she seemed to always sport a dress. Semi was not distant in any way and it seemed like he was never going to bring it up with you unless you took the initiative.

You asked once or twice about the girl and he waved off that she was very pretty and very determined. She seemed to exceedingly fancy him and would not take no for an answer. And he had no real reason to say no. No real reason. Your heart ached at his simple words. If you were no “real reason,” then you sure were not going to continue this way.

There was a month until the formal and that meant an entire month with having this loom over your head. Semi never indicated he wanted more than friendship and it seemed that was not enough for him. So you pulled away. This was hard since you sat together, but it was definitely different than usual.

You would brush off his invitations to hang-out, which was increasingly hard since you literally spent every waking day together. It hurt you, but it was a good wake-up call. If he did not think more of you, then it was about time you lessened this heavy dependence you had on him. It was an eventual problem that he would find a significant other, but now it was finally before you. You were no masochist and distanced yourself from the constant sorrow. On one occasion, you replied, “Why don’t you hang-out with your date instead?” It was petty and low, but true. You were being replaced. Why would he hang-out with you if he’s got another female on his line?

You addressed this with Reon, but he defended Semi saying that the two were only friends. Semi agreed on a whim, with no real intention of dating the girl or progressing as far as he had with you. But you denied this and stopped talking about it with the two altogether.

You were gleaning out the window, ignoring your lunch and sitting with the guess monster and his ace. “Stop frowning, (F/N)-chan. If it bothers you that much just talk to him.”

“Why should I even bother? He already made up his mind.” You pushed your already minute lunch away.

“Wow, giving up already?” Tendou mocked.

“It’s been three years. If he wanted to do something he would have.”

“You’re wrong, (F/N)-chan.” Salami countered, “Semi has already done something. He told me off, that’s for sure.”

“That was so long ago.”

“What have you done?” Ushijima interjected.

“I’ve never accepted any other man’s affection - not dates, chocolates, late-night talks.” You outwardly groaned and nearly slammed your head on the desk, “I’m about to graduate high-school and I’ve never been kissed.”

Even Tendou laughed at this fact, “Wow, (F/N)! I’d be willing to volunteer.”

You lifted your head to glare at him, “That is unnecessary.” Ushijima stated. “You have proven a great loyalty, it seems.”

“Great.” You mocked, voice dripping with sarcasm, “And this worked out so well for me.”

“It is a rare quality, one that I surely admire you for having.” You sat-up completely, back straight from surprise and eyes glued to the auburn-haired ace that continued eating like his words meant nothing. Even Tendou paused from his causal demeanor to narrow his eyes at Ushijima.

A grin reappeared on his face, one that surely spelt trouble, and he proposed, “Why don’t you two go to the formal together?”

You both paused and shared momentary eye-contact. His eyes appeared mostly impassive, but you had spent enough time with him to notice his questioning gaze. His left eyebrow was slightly upturned and you tilted your head in question.

“I cannot see an immediate reason not to.”

“Me neither."

“Then it’s settled!” Tendou got up to stand by the middle of the table, flippantly placing his hands on both of your shoulders, “Let’s send a post to the Shiratorizawa page so it’s official. Ah so cute, Waka and (F/N) at the dance together!”

Ushijima commented that was extremely superfluous, why should anyone care/know? You reasoned the same way, but Tendou claimed that it was not official until it was on the social media page. You both shrugged and prepared to pose for a picture over lunch.

“No, no. This looks totally lame.” He ended up dragging the both of you outside, in the middle of the quad during common hour. Tons of students were walking by and watched as Tendou modeled the two of you.

He settled on putting Ushijima’s hand on your waist and angled your front facing the ace. Your head was turned back towards the camera and you had a hand on his chest. This position was entirely intimate and even the dense Ushijima commented this, but Tendou waved it off. You wondered what crazy things Tendou could get his roommate to do.

Tendou was having a blast, taking multiple pictures from different angles on his phone. You wondered: how good could it possibly look? You were sporting your Shiratorizawa uniform and Ushijima was in his usual track-suit. You could hear the whispering and it seemed that posting the picture would be redundant, almost everyone saw the two of you posing like this!

The three of you returned back to your lunch table and upon sitting down, you received a brand new notification.

[Instabook] Slide to unlock and see new tagged post

Looks like the two most elusive volleyball bachelor/ette’s have snagged each other! Be sure to check-out this cute couple at the fall formal! Tagged: Ushijima Wakatoshi and (F/N)(L/N)

Attached: 1.jpg, 2.jpg, 3.jpg, 4.jpg

“Was it really necessary to send in all those pictures, Tendou?” You asked.

“They tell us to send multiple and they’ll pick the best one! Whoever the account owner is, they are the ones who decided on showing all of those!”

“But four?”

“I sent in ten. And four is the max they can post, so they must really like you guys.” Tendou teased. Almost instantly, you were getting more and more notifications.

People you had never met before were liking the post and it was embarrassing at how much attention this was garnering! You weren’t even dating! Your phone was constantly vibrating from Instabook and you muted the app entirely – you’d return to it later at the end of the day. Sadly, the volleyball team was quick to react too.

GC: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼✿ ͡◕ д ◕͡ ༽୨

14:57    From: Captain-Sama!              um wtf is this Attached: THEpost.jpg, receipts.jpg, wtf.jpg

14:57    From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )              Not the otp but I still ship it

14:57    From: Coconut-head              Senpai’s gf is so cute (๑꒪▿꒪)*

14:57    From: the most tender Salami              You can thank me

14:57    From: Captain-Sama!              y tf would I do that

14:57    From: the most tender Salami              I got the ship sailing

14:57    From: the most tender Salami              And got usiwaka to ask (f/n)-chan

14:58    From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              And u stil cant get urself a date??

14:58    From: the most tender Salami              I’m going to ignore that and show off this CUTE COUPLE Attached: lunchdate.jpg, imthechaperone.jpg

Tendou was showcasing photos he literally took then and there, of you and Ushijima conversing over lunch. It could be viewed entirely as innocent, but after the previous posts it seemed to imply something. Tendou noticed that Semi had seen the chat already, but had yet to respond.

14:58    From: Captain-sama!              Are they dating???????????????

14:59    From: the most tender Salami              Nah, but theyre too busy to respond to the chat ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

14:59    From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩             OH SHIT

14:59    From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )              WE’RE NOT OLD ENOUGH ( ಠ - ಠ )

15:00    From: Captain-Sama!              I WANT PICS

Reon and Semi were discussing the subject in the comfort of their private dorm. It was clear to the tan boy that you were bothered by Semi agreeing to go to the formal and not even telling you! It was only now that Semi was understanding this and he looked to his roommate for guidance.

“I already told that girl I’ll go with her…” Semi was attempting to sort his thoughts, “But I don’t want to hurt (F/N).”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Reon interjected, “You already did that.”

Semi burrowed his head into his hands, “Does (F/N) think I’m replacing her? She means so much to me, that’s absurd.”

“You didn’t exactly tell her that you were going to formal with someone else.” Reon explained, “How would you feel if your closest friend was going to an intimate dance with a date that you never met before?” Semi massaged his temples further, feeling the oncoming migraine that usually came associated with a certain second-year setter.

His thoughts were unclear and the constant vibrating of both their phones were not helping his mental state, “What is happening?”

Reon browsed through his phone first and frowned, “Well. It seems a certain someone’s affection never fully disappeared from last year.”

Semi narrowed his eyes and picked up his phone to see your face splayed across the screen. A smile graced your face and it was clear who was the cause behind it. Ushijima’s smile was rare and came at random moments, but it was encased in memory through the photograph. He almost screamed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Semi threw his phone on the bed before collapsing face first into it.

“On the chat, it seems Tendou was the one who pushed them together.” Semi punched his pillow at the mention of the brash Salami. “And they’re not dating, just going to the dance together.”

Semi let out a string of incomprehensible words into his comforter. “This is Ushiwaka. He’s not like Tendou, with the endless list of crushes. He’s genuine all the time and complimented (F/N) without hesitation. As in, I’m fucked.”

Reon was inwardly rolling his eyes, it was only when Semi was entirely comfortable with the other person or very enraged that he let loose his short-tempered side. And it seemed Semi was both, right at this moment.

You broke off from Tendou and Ushijima to retreat back to your dorm room. Ushijima agreed to have dinner with you later, in hopes of coordinating your outfit for the formal. It seemed the post of the two of you was the most popular on the entire page and you would have to dress to impress the audience.

Upon entering, you were ambushed with questions from both your roommate, Reon, and strangely Shirabu.

“(F/N), what the fuck.”

“You better not hinder his abilities as ace!”

“Did you just come from lunch with him?”

You blinked at the assault and then sat-down. “One, we’re not dating. So I will not be a distraction for him, I assure you. This is mostly Tendou’s doing anyway.”

Shirabu nodded at the explanation and then walked towards the door, stopping to put a hand on your shoulder first, “Good enough. Have a good time then.” And with that he walked out of the room. Shirabu was a special type of kid, everyone knew. At least he had the best intentions at heart?

“Seriously?” Your roommate and captain of the female volleyball team asked, showing off her impeccable vernacular.

“Come on.” You threw your bag to the side of your bed.

“How did this even start?” She sat down on her own bed as Reon rested on your desk chair.

“I was talking about y’know, what’s been bothering me recently. And Tendou suggested that there was no real reason to stop Ushijima and me from going to the formal together.”

“And what? Ushijima just asked on the spot after that?” She asked.

“Yeah, pretty much. And then Tendou made a big spectacle of it by making us pose for a picture.”

“A top three ace in the entire country and 190 centimeter of pure man, and you are the one to have tamed him. Holy shit, good job.” She commended.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head and Reon could not stop his sudden coughing fit. “We are not dating.”

“Just the pure fact that Ushijima had no reason to not ask you, wow.” She commented. “If it was any other girl he would have scroll of reasons that would hit the floor with a speech to go along with it.”

“There’s no way.” You countered.

“Do you honestly think there are no implications?” Reon asked.

“Yeah, if anything he’s doing it as a favor.” You answered offhandedly, realizing your mistake instantly. It was natural to speak candidly to the two. However, it was clear that Reon would die defending Semi and thus you stopped speaking to him previously about the situation.

“A favor?” He asked, just as you had thought.

You hesitated. It was not in you to lie and it was only a matter of time before Tendou gave further details to the rest about the situation. “We were talking about Eita-kun before he asked me.”

“What about Eita?”

“Just how really messed up this situation is.” You decided on being vague.

Reon did not take the hint and continued to push the subject, “Why is it messed up?”

“You know why,” You gave him that look, like really bro, “I guess that’s what I get for assuming.

“What did you assume?” Your roommate asked, this time.

“I stayed loyal to him and I never gave into anyone. Never accepted chocolates or dates or anything. And I just assumed he would do the same?” Reon sat back in the chair, obviously mauling over your words.

“Well that is mostly true, with the exception of one person.” Both you and your roommate shot him questioning looks, unsure where he heard that from. “Isn’t it true you did extra practice with Wakatoshi for a whole month?”

“I don’t think volleyball counts as accepting affection.” Your roommate countered.

“Do you see who we are talking about?” Reon explained, “Our beloved ace lives and breathes volleyball. And he shared a good amount of that time alone with you. If you wanted to practice so badly, why not with Eita? He was the official setter.”

“Because Ushijima asked me personally.”

“And you accepted. You voluntarily spent an extended amount of time with him, engaging in the sport he loves and you didn’t think anything of it?”

“Of course not! I would have accepted practice from anyone else on the team.”

“I think that’s where you do not understand.” Reon paused, attempting to fully devlop his next few words before conveying them to the two of you. “You’re treating this extremely casually. But these are all boys who had no problems with showering you with compliments last year. Take a step back and really think about the situation.”

Your roommate interjected, “Okay, hold on. So Tendou and the boys tried to carelessly compliment (F/N) and after that she accepted one of those boy’s request to spend time with him.”

“We are not talking about some irresponsible boy. This is Wakatoshi, the most serious and straight-forward idiot to exist.”

You were sat on the bed, hands currently encasing your head in obvious stress and over-thinking. “But that’s not how I saw it! Ohmyfuckinggod.”

“I suggest you amend the situation, (F/N)-chan.” Reon advised, “I left him alone in the dorm, please talk to him.”

But you were already out the door. You had a growing list of reasons why you were an idiot and this misunderstanding definitely topped the list. You had to tell Eita that Ushijima would never hold a place in your heart like he did. It was impossible for Ushijima to have feelings for you, that was definite. Ever since your unofficial parting from Eita, you had spending more time with the ace. However, you would often be expressing your sadness about Semi and he knew entirely about your feelings. Wakatoshi was a bro.

And it was important that Semi knew that.

You tapped on his door, rapid and loud enough that you were sure other people in the hall heard it. There was a light shuffling inside and it seemed like there were multiple voices.

Semi opened a slight crack of the door with narrowed eyes, but when they landed on you they widened with obvious shock. “(F/N), what are you doing here?”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I was talking with Reon and I think I need to say something before I regret it. Can I come inside?” Semi scratched the back of his ear in thought and did not move to allow you in.  

“Who’s at the door, Eita-kun?” And right before your eyes was the blonde date he agreed to go to the formal with.

Semi could literally see and feel your heartbreak. When your eyes traveled from her smiley disposition to him, he saw the narrowing – the pure anguish written across your face. It was something he never wanted to see ever again. The poor boy would do anything for you and it physically pained him that the cause of your sorrow was from him.

You swallowed your pride and yelled out, “I’m sorry for interrupting!” You ran down the hall, not caring that the door to Tendou and Waka’s room opened as you sprinted past it.

“Did you hurt her?” Wakatoshi asked a stunned Semi, who was standing in the middle of the hallway with a hand outstretched.

“I hate my fucking life.” Semi slapped a palm to his forehead. He had something to do first before he addressed you. He slammed the door behind him quickly, so neither volleyball players could throw questions at him.

“What was that?” The blonde girl asked, still standing and silently waiting for Semi. He had called her here a few minutes ago, saying that they needed to talk.

“We can’t go to the formal together.” Semi stated. “I’m really sorry if I’ve led you on.”

“Is it because of (L/N)-san?” She asked, smile still evident on her face. He nodded lightly. “You two honestly suit each other. Even I was surprised when you said yes to me.” She moved to the floor to grab her bag and leave, “May I ask, why did you agree to go with me?”

“I don’t know.” He sat on his bed and wanted to scream, it was rare for him to be so confused.

“You better get your shit together, Eita-kun.” She gave a small laugh and then exited the dorm.

There was no way that you were returning back to your dorm. You knew that your roommate and Reon would still be there and expecting details. You should have known! If you kept distancing yourself from Semi, it was only a matter of time that he found comfort in another person’s arms. You deserved this, really. You had been so petty and jealous without actually affirming your feelings to him.

Text Messages:

17:32    From: the most tender Salami              What was THAT?!

17:29    From: Ushiwaka-sama!              Where are you???

The only place that you knew would be free of any volleyball idiots would be the on-campus café outside of the nursing building. It only accepted money and not swipes from the meal-plan, which in itself was a turn-off from most of the volleyball teams. It was on the complete opposite side of campus from the gyms and you were sure that none of the people you knew were enrolled in medical-specific programs. Of course, everyone except from her.

It had been a full hour of dodged texts and missed calls when she neared your table. “Hi. You probably don’t want to talk to me of all people.” The blonde started, but still made a motion as if asking if she could take the empty seat across from you.

“You can have the seat. I was on my way out.” You grabbed your various things from the table, readying to leave.

“Wait, please just listen.” You paused in your movements and nodded, “Semi called me to his room to call off our date for the formal. He never meant to upset you and I’m sure he’s looking for you as we speak. Please give him a chance.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You interjected, “He said yes to you and I don’t want to take him away from you just because I am the one who is upset. You asked and he accepted your affection, something we never did. We’ve only ever been friends. With Semi, all I want for him is to be happy. He deserves all the happiness in the world, even if it’s not with me.”

Your eyes were wandering around during your speech, jumping from behind the blonde and your surroundings but never focusing on her. When you gazed back at her, she was holding a hand to her nose and lightly sniffling.

“You two deserve to be together!” She shouted, “Oh god I am so sorry for getting between you guys.”

Behind you, Semi was scouring the café in an attempt to find you. He spent too damn long thinking and not acting, it was finally time that he made his feelings known. Grabbing his phone on the way out, he called Tendou and Waka and neither boys knew where you were. A quick text to Reon and your roommate and they both asked why you were not with him. Semi sighed and continued in his search. Finally, he received a text from the blonde that she found you moping around here.

Semi could spot you in a crowd of rowdy volleyball players within seconds. He found your luscious locks of hair across the very person he left. Damn, he really owed that girl. She took rejection like pro and even took it a step further to keep you here until he arrived.

“Please, you have nothing to be sorry about.” You responded.

A pair of large hands slid to lightly weigh on your shoulders, “Can I interrupt?”

“Please do.” The blonde replied and quickly gathered her belongings. “I wish you two the best.”

Semi quickly took her seat and reached across the table to hold your hands in his. “You said you wanted to clear misunderstandings before you ran off. I need to do the same.”

His grip tightened and you squeezed back. “Let me start, since I owe you an explanation.” He nodded. “Eita-kun, you’re the only man I’ve ever had eyes for. Even if I spend time with Waka-kun or Salami, they’ve never meant more to me than just friends. You’ve always held the most special and largest piece of my heart.”

Semi smiled and moved his chair closer to yours. “I want you to know that I feel the same way. It’s rather small of me, but after you spent so much time with Wakatoshi… I wanted to test if you felt the same heartbreak I felt when I saw the two of you together. I realize now how spiteful that was of me, to the very girl I had feelings for.”

You placed a gentle hand on the side of his face, rubbing rather affectionately and he seemed to lean into it. “Looks like we’re a pair of idiots.”

“But now you’re my exclusive idiot.” He staked his claim and you wondered how his seat suddenly was right next to yours!

Semi nuzzled your nose with his own, smile enrapturing you for the oomph time. You closed your eyes and leaned forward, bumping noses until you felt the gentle touch of his lips against yours. You were entirely receptive, even moving further into his body to get the full scape of his silky lips. The tips of his hair were tickling the sides of your face. And you would kill to feel this sensation for the rest of your life.

His hands lost themselves in your hair, preoccupied with keeping a steady hold on the back of your head. You returned the embrace and he took that as an invitation to glide his lips against yours, silently asking for entrance. You moaned in answer and opened up slowly, but he took it entirely in stride – not skipping a beat.

It was only when a flash went off that the two of you broke apart, gasping for air.

“Holy shit!” Tendou yelled, Wakatoshi clapping not too far behind him. You flushed with embarrassment. God you moaned in public! “This one is for the page.”

You were about to interject when Semi stated, “Finally. Maybe now you bastards will get the message.”

New notification:

[Instabook] Slide to unlock and see new tagged post

Hot momma! Finally, it seems as though the couple everyone shipped together are finally official~ Hopefully we don’t have to mark this page as 18+ Tagged: Eita Semi and (F/N)(L/N) Attached: 1.jpg, 2.jpg / 3.gif

Semi led you back to his empty dorm, your roommate and Reon were bro’s and willingly offered to have a sleepover to give you two alone time. You were currently encased between his arms, legs tangled and speaking in low voices. He had you nestled beneath his chin, but most of your weight laid across his chest. Semi did not want this moment to end. He waited three years for this, it was a moment of love in the making. You laughed lightly in his arms, not a care in the world keeping you from him. You were both on cloud nine, basking in each other's presence. You never took Semi as a closet cuddle-whore, but you were not complaining. His arms encased you perfectly and you could not hold back from placing butterfly kisses across his chest. You loved him, it was only a matter of time that you found out.

—xXxXxXxXxXx— 

➳ A/N: This fic may seem familiar because it’s being brought up over from our earlier Deviantart account! <3

[platoniclokiimagines]

Loki being a sucker for pet names? He says he's a monster but when you use a pet name for him he just s t o p s

WC: 1654

TW: mention of counseling and anger management

A/N: I couldn’t remember the pronouns of who sent this in, because it’s been like Two Years, hence the “Lady” used in this fic, but for future reference, when I re-open requests, if you could please let me know the pronouns you’d like in the fic, I would greatly appreciate it. Thank you!

A/N 2: There were many, many ways I could have gone with this, but naturally I went a little whumpy. Sue me. And enjoy~

The first time you called Loki a pet name, you hadn’t meantanything by it.

It was your night to make dinner, and Loki, still new tobeing around the compound and therefore not as trusted by most everyone else,had been given the task of helping you with whatever you needed. You didn’tmind. Loki was quiet and didn’t ask a lot of questions, and that made them nicecompany. Certainly better that Stark and his not-so-subtle jokes and smartassquips, or Thor Thor with his twenty questions about everything Midgardianwhenever the two of you did something together.

It didn’t even make you nervous that Loki seemed to watchyour every move, like they were waiting for you to say or do something thatmight put them in danger. You just let them study you, hardly even looking upat them as you read over the recipe on your phone.

“Loki, be a doll and pass me the salt, please? It’s thatcontainer just by the stove.”

“I quite beg your pardon?”

Loki’s slightly offended tone gave you pause, and you lookedup at them, brow furrowed. “…salt? It’s a seasoning. That white,crystal-looking-”

“No, I know what salt is, Lady Y/N.”

“You don’t have to call me that. It’s just Y/N.” You smileda bit as you watched them. “…was it the term of endearment? I can stop, if itmakes you uncomfortable.”

“…endearment.” Loki seemed genuinely confused, and you filedthat away to remember it.

“…yes? Nicknames are much faster to say than Loki, God ofMischief, you know.”

“…right.” After a long moment, Loki turned to the stove andfetched the salt, as you had asked, and said nothing else as they handed it toyou.

You weren’t sure what else to say on the matter, either, soyou just smiled and murmured a quiet thank you before turning back to yourcooking.

You supposed it made sense, given everything Thor had toldyou and the rest of the Avengers about everything Loki had been through, thataffection and endearment was something Loki wasn’t accustomed to. You wouldn’tbe surprised if you found out Loki had never been called by anything other thantheir name or the snarky nicknames Tony had for them.

It seemed like a terrible way togrow up, with little affection between you and your family members. All themore reason to show it now, you decided, and it was with that thought in mindthat your mission to test out pet names for Loki came to fruition.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days passed before you comfortably had the chance to slipanother affectionate nickname into conversation with Loki. Even with such ashort time period between the two points in time, Loki had seemed to warm up toyou even more, sometimes going so far as to choose to sit on the same couchwith you as they read, while you either watched tv or fiddled on your phone.

Not wanting to make them uncomfortable, you waited to makesure that you were the only two in the room before you glanced over at them,mostly so you could watch their reaction. “Loki, dear, can you hand me theremote? I’ll turn it down so it’s quieter for you to read.”

Just as before, Loki hesitated, like they weren’t entirelysure how to handle being calledsomething affectionate, and it took them a few moments before they seemed tosnap out of it. “…that’s really not necessary, L… Y/N. I’m used to reading in far louder environments. You think Thor’sloud now, you wouldn’t believe theamount of noise he made as a teenager.”

You laughed a bit. “Yes, I imagine Thor was one of thosekids that was easily excitable and loud in expression.”

“Yes, that’s it exactly.” Loki smiled a little, as well, andyou released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

One way or another, you weregoing to get Loki used to being treated nicely. Even if it took months.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As part of the agreement that ensured Loki could stay on atthe compound, Loki had been placed in an array of different therapy sessions,ranging from anger management to sibling counseling with Thor to just regularone-on-one counseling.

Unfortunately, that meant that sometimes Loki came back fromthem in a storm of a bad mood, wanting nothing more than to separate themselffrom the rest of the group and sulk somewhere where they could beself-deprecating or angry or hurt in peace.

You hadn’t particularlymeant to stumble upon Loki in one of these moods; mostly, you just wanted tomake sure that they were okay, and to see if there was anything you could do orget for them.

Hesitantly, you knocked on the door, not wanting to startlethem and risk upsetting them even more.

“Loki…? It’s Y/N. Can I come in?”

Loki gave no response, but after a pregnant pause, you heardthe door unlock, and you took that as an okay to go ahead into their room.Making sure to lock the door behind you, out of politeness, you turned aroundto see Loki curled up in the smallest ball you imagined they could manage.Unsure if you should try to get closer, you stayed where you were, watchingthem in silence.

“…can I get you anything? Some water, or… tea? We have someof that chamomile that you like. I made sure to get plenty of boxes the lasttime we went to the store, and-”

“Why do you bother?”

You were a bit taken aback by Loki’s words, not because theyheld any bite, but because they seemed so earnest.Like they genuinely couldn’t understand why you wanted to help.

“…I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand what you mean.”

“I mean why areyou going through all this trouble? Being nice, talking to me when no one elsedoes, checking up on me? Don’t you ever get bored with it?”

“…why would I get bored with it?”

Loki turned to look at you then, scowling, though you weren’tentirely sure it was directed at you. “Because no one likes being thesacrificial lamb, the… the balance between sides.”

“…I suppose I don’t see it like that.”

Loki didn’t scoff or roll their eyes, like you expected theymight, but instead, they just looked at you, almost more earnestly than you’dever seen them look before.

“And how do yousee it?”

“Well… We’re friends.” You smiled a bit. “We’re two newpeople, getting to know each other while also getting used to being around theothers, too.”

“We can’t be friends.” Loki said it almost robotically, likeit was a trained response. “For one thing, you’re a human, and I’m a god and…Y/N, I’ve done things that are terrible. Horrible, horrible things, with verylittle by means of making up for it. Ask any one of the people in the room outthere, and they’ll tell you. I’m nothing but a monster.”

“I think you’re an absolute angel.”

You said it without even thinking about it, and whateverLoki had been in the process of saying or thinking didn’t matter, because theyjust stopped. Didn’t move, didn’tspeak, didn’t even seem to breathe. They just looked at you.

The silence in the room was almost deafening, and part ofyou wanted to think that you might have said the wrong thing, but a greaterpart of you knew that what you’d said was not a lie. You thought the world ofLoki, and you told them as much, once they’d had some time to process.

“Loki, you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met inmy life. You’ve been through so much.I’ve heard the stories. And yes, you’ve made mistakes, and perhaps some ofthose mistakes have had a body count, but… you’re trying to be better. You’retrying to do better. I know you are. Thor knows you are. And the others will catch on eventually, too,in time. But for now, I’ll pick up the slack. I’ll remind you that you’re doingbetter. I’ll bring you tea and sweets when you’re having a bad day. And I’ll keepcalling you pet names until you’re so used to them that you don’t freeze up outof confusion anymore. Whatever it takes for you to believe that you’re becominga good person, that’s just as worthy as love and affection and happiness as every other person in thiscompound. Okay?”

You hadn’t meant to say so much, but once you’d started, you’dfound yourself unable to stop, andnow that you’d finished, you just watched Loki, waiting for their response and hoping you hadn’t overstepped any boundaries.

After a long moment, they nodded to themself, seeing to cometo terms with what you’d said. “…I suppose I never considered things in thatmanner.”

You nodded, as well, offering a small smile when they lookedat you. “…it’s gonna be okay, you know? I know it really sucks right now, andeverything is new and strange and different. And counseling really, reallysucks at the beginning when you have to hash out all the things you neverwanted to revisit, but… it does get better. And I’ll be here to help. As longas you’ll have me.”

Loki took a slow, deep breath, like they were deciding whatthey wanted to say, but instead, they seemed to settle for nodding, and so youjust nodded, as well.

“….so tea?”

“I would appreciate it immensely, Y/N.”

You smiled and nodded, heading back to the door. “Sure,thing.” As you turned to leave, you couldn’t resist poking your head back in. “Angel.”

Loki just looked at you, almost as though they were embarrassed,and you just smiled softly.

Yes, you thought you and Loki were going to get on quitenicely, from here on out.

[darkacademicfrom2021]

The Dark Team (part 8)

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Join the taglist in here (Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman)

Warnings: violence, near death experience, suicidal consideration.

With all the information you needed in your head, you ran up to the hotel room. Loki and Bucky were wandering around the neighborhood, handling the “incognito” part of the mission very poorly. But you’d be soon back with them, you just needed to grab the suits, some more information and a scribbled map, and you’d be back on the streets, fighting criminals or… whatever the Hell those two were doing.

It was just a matter of time until you finally got the stick. What did it have that Tony Stark feared so much to be in the wrong hands, you would never know. Unless you grabbed the stick before giving it to him and found out yourself, of course (but no, that would be irresponsible, an invasion, all levels of illegal and probably would result in getting you in jail, or maybe even assassinated).

It sounded good, though.

After what felt like a thousand stairs later, you finally arrived at your room. Grabbing the doorknob while inserting the key, you realized it was already open. You stopped. Was anyone in there? You weren’t the last one to come out that morning, so you weren’t sure you closed it well. Bucky was; and he was generally distracted on those details. He would sleep on them because he can take anyone, he’s a supersoldier, after all.

You didn’t let go of the doorknob, and opened very carefully as to not make any noise. Damn, if I just had my gun with myself this would be much easier, you thought for the hundredth time on the mission. You made a mental note on not leaving the room without a gun ever again.

If it wasn’t bad enough, you didn’t bring any communicators with your teammates on. What for? The last part of the mission was done with all of you together. It made sense you’d sleep on it too.

You stopped the self-loathing on your last few decisions and thought about who or what could be on the other side of the door. It couldn’t be someone who wanted the information you’d already collected, because you informed absolutely no one about it. Not even Stark. And you had made sure nobody followed you or heard your steps. So, it had to be someone from the Hydra base. Someone who would think you had the stick with yourself, and wanted it back.

Basing your actions on that speculation, you calculated the time and risks to get to your gun and suit before you’d get attacked, if the agent was still in there. You could only assume it was an agent. What else would Hydra have, in the middle of 2021?

Alright, you thought. Maybe it’s empty already. I only get one chance.

You slammed open the door and ran to your suit and gun as fast as you could, suiting up with a button, and, in a matter of seconds, you were against a wall with your Beretta 92 pointing at whoever could come and attack you.

Silence and adrenaline filled the room. You looked around, and nothing moved. Not a single sound. Not even a fly.

“Whoever’s here, I don’t have it. I swear, I don’t have it”, you said, still with your gun up. “And I don’t know who has it, yet”.

No answer. You looked around a little, opening some doors and looking under the beds, but it really seemed like you were alone now. Someone had definitely been there; your papers were all disorganized and some chairs were on the floor. The window had a gunshot. But whoever went there, saw there was nothing they wanted and left, not long ago. Maybe you could even seek them with the street cameras.

You walked to the window and traced the gunshot with your fingertips. You recognized the bullet; Bucky had used them before, as the Winter Soldier. Looking outside you recognized in the distance, about three blocks away, the unmistakable figures of your teammates.

A cocking gun in your nape brought you back to the room. You didn’t turn around just yet, waiting for some talking (they usually talk, they don’t want you dead; they rather want your information. Quite difficult to take from if you won’t be able to answer). After some more silence, you turned around violently and tried to kick the (huge, even bigger than Thor) man’s gun off. Instead, he grabbed your leg and pushed you to the floor.

Maybe you weren’t exactly awesome when it came to hand-in-hand combat, alright?

Pointing your gun at him from the floor, you tried to get up, and as soon as you felt him get closer to grab your gun, you shot. You made sure to not actually shoot him; just close enough for him to think you were going to shoot him if he got close. He didn’t get fazed at the shot; didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. Instead, grabbed your gun and bent it as if it were melted plastic.

Holy fucking shit.

Good news were, now you knew what exactly was in that stick. Bad news, it was already in the wrong hands.

“Chemistry works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it, fella?”, you asked the supersoldier standing in front of you. “When did they serum-ed you? You might be experiencing some side effects”, you chatted, waiting for your teammates, hoping they’d walk a little bit faster. Hopefully, they’d heard the shooting and realized you were in trouble. They didn’t know exactly how much trouble you were in, though.

“You do realize the more you talk, the faster I’ll have to kill you, right?” said he, finally.

“What’s your name? Can’t see you with your weird mask on” you said, standing up slowly. “Let me guess… you must be familiar with James, right?”.

The supersoldier blinked in confusion, and charged his gun, pointing it directly at your forehead.

“You have exactly ten seconds to tell me how you know about James. Ten”.

“Must be a very difficult experience”.

“Nine”.

“To be so close, yet so far away”.

“Eight”.

“You know, it’d do you wonders some therapy maybe. To process the whole James thing”.

“Seven”.

“You sound like Monica Geller”.

“Six”.

“You’ll get bored of counting, eventually”.

“Five”.

“Alright, pack it up”.

“Four”.

You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“Three”.

“I don’t know anything about that James, it was a wild guess. Everyone is called James these days”, you explained. He stopped counting but pressed the gun harder against your head.

“Quit the mocking. Give me the stick and I’ll let you live”.

“There’s no way you’re letting me live. I already know Hydra has some more supersoldiers, and I guess the thing in the stick is the formula, isn’t it? Give me the secret formula, spongebob, right?”. The man realized you were just making time, and tried to grab your wrists. “Took you long enough to notice. Soldiers are not the brightest, let me tell you”.

As he tried to lock your wrists, you used all your body weight to push him out of the window. Terrible idea. He was at least five times stronger, and instead of your original plan, the one getting thrown off a nine-floor window now were you.

Bucky and Loki were a block away, and all they saw was a tiny speck on the sky, getting rapidly closer to the street. It didn’t take them much thinking until they realized that speck was you, flying off the hotel room. Loki took impulse and teleported himself as fast as he could to the nearest floor you were currently passing, and grasped your arm and hand with his both hands, holding himself with only his legs from a balcony.

Hanging from just one arm, with seven tall floors behind your feet, you tried your best to not look down. Oh, heights weren’t your best friend, much less the possibility of a bad movement and instantly dying right there. You could only think in how lucky you were your teammate had quick reflexes, and how idiotic you were to think you could’ve possibly taken that man by your own. He bent your gun with his bare hands, for God’s sake. You looked down, and saw the supersoldier already fighting with Bucky on the streets. Your face turned even paler as you observed how tall you were. Everything was tiny below you.

“Look at me”, said Loki, with a calm voice. You redirected your gaze to him. His eyes. There was a glimpse in his eyes, showing something. Your own emotions weren’t allowing you to actually concentrate on his face expressions, anyways. He sensed it, and repeated. “Look at me, don’t look down. I’m here”.

You met his eyes once again and this time you didn’t leave them. There it was. His eyes irradiated pure and raw panic. Fear. No, not even fear; terror. What was he terrified of? Terror of losing you? Why would he care so much? Why would he care that deeply? It didn’t matter now, for you were definitely dying. His grip was strong, but your hand was starting to numb and you were losing strength. You were dizzy and sweating, frightened. He gripped harder and it pained you.

“Hold on to me. Do not let go, I'm here”, he said. His words were tranquil and reassuring, trying to keep it as undisturbed as he could, but a drop of desperation cracked his voice. “Hold strong, I’m lifting you up”.

“Don’t. You’ll fall down. You can’t take this height either” you said without hiding your dread. Your tight throat did the job and your eyes watered. That was it, you thought. And it was. There was no way Loki could lift you without him falling down too. And even if there was a possibility, why would he risk his long and meaningful life for the sake of yours? “Let me go, Loki”.

“I’m not letting you go”.

“You’ll die”.

“No, and you won’t either. Hold onto my grip”, he assured you without leaving any room for discussion, trying to lift your body and almost tripping in the process. He gasped and you left out a whine.

“Loki”.

“Stop it, I’m not letting you go”, he said, less calm than he’d have liked to. “I’m not letting you go”, he repeated, almost in a whisper.

In a struggle, he brought you into the balcony he was hanging from. Your legs were shaking, as you laid on the marble floor by his side. Both of you breathless, looked at each other without saying a word. After a brief moment, you took his hand and squeezed it gently, not ever breaking eye contact.

“You saved me. Thank you”.

[ohheyitsokay]

steal

part 7 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francisco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: strong language, mentions of previous substance abuse and mediocre family relationships, a happy, happy ending

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier Baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

in baseball, to ‘steal’ is for someone already on base to to the next base when the ball is live, but before his time. 

In this chapter, Frankie takes you out to dinner, and in telling you about himself, accidently goes way too hard, way too fast. 

>>

Frankie called and asked you to an early dinner.

Early, so the restaurant wouldn’t be crowded. Early, so he wouldn’t have the chance to overthink. Early, so the boys wouldn’t catch word and cause chaos.

Early, so he’d have all the time in the world with you, if you wanted.

When he picked you up, neither of you had the time to worry about your clothes or hair or fuss with it, and it was a relief. Someday, you hoped to get the chance to dress up for each other, but for now, casual seemed most fitting. He opened the door of his truck for you, holding your hand as you stepped into it. It wasn’t that you needed the extra help, he just seemed like he wanted to. 

You didn’t see, but his hand flexed, tingling as he walked around to climb in the driver’s side.

The talk came easy - Francisco forwent superfluous pleasantries and when he asked you questions there was no doubt in your mind that he actually wanted to hear your answers. You found yourself spilling about your job, flushing when you caught him watching you talk closer than the road, something soft in his eyes.

It was a stereotype, that a baseball player would like diner food, and you were pleasantly surprised when his truck slid into the tiny parking lot of a mom ‘n pop Hispanic restaurant. It was cute, watching him run around to open your door again, and he asked “Is this okay?” as he helped you down.

In response, you shifted your hand in his until his large fingers were laced with yours, and said yes, of course a little breathlessly. There was a lovely lady both serving and hosting who acted like she knew Francisco, giving him a broad wink and rapid fire teasing in what you could only assume was Spanish. In truth, you were too distracted by the way his thumb was running over the back of your hand, and the smells of corn and peppers and homemade tortillas.

Seated, she asked if you would be alright with anything, and your date looked eager and hopeful, so you would be a monster not to agree.

“So you come here often,” you said when she left. Not a direct question, although you were sure you wanted to hear the story. Francisco grinned.

“Are you flirting with me?” His eyebrows dipped in the middles, betraying a little more hope than he intended.

“Yes?” It was easier to tease as the waitress put plate after steaming plate between you, and a container full of warm tortillas. You spread your napkin over your lap as you thanked her, ignoring the growl in your stomach. As much as you liked that he let you talk, you wanted to know more about him, wanted to give him the chance to say whatever he left out the other night. There was certainly more to the solid catcher than met the eye, learning him felt as natural as your hunger.

“I’m serious though, what should I try first?” You pointed at various things with your fork, and Francisco almost wiggled he looked so happy. It was a dream, having you tucked into the little booth across from him, trust in your eyes.

“The green chili, Anita makes it from scratch regularly and it’s fantastic,” he pointed, eyes watching with joy as you dug into the smothered burrito. Your moan shot through him, warming his whole body more than the food he swallowed in a hurry. “Good, yeah?”

“Amazing,” you didn’t ask again, how he knew, just began filling your stomach. He told you about various dishes, sharing them with you like it was the most natural thing in the world. Eventually, the story came out naturally.

“I used to come here a lot when I first moved to town,” he shrugged. “It’s halfway between the stadium and where my family is right now.”

It was easy to meet his eyes and you didn’t pry. Twirling a long string of molten cheese on his fork, it poured out of him, telling more than you felt like you deserved to know and watching you carefully.

He started at the beginning, how it felt like home, this little restaurant, but safer. His mother and sister lived in a small town nearby. It was messy, his youth, full of shit a kid shouldn’t have to deal with. Baseball had been his way out, his chance at a life he couldn’t have. To be good at something, to have a team to belong to. Clean uniforms and clean money, from prizes, that put meat on his bones and filled out his sister’s cheeks.

He became Frankie, pouring his heart into it until he excelled, working like he needed it to survive.

When the scholarships rolled in, he picked the one farthest away, sending checks from his nightshift part-time home more often than he called. He thought his life was good, that running away was working. Being drafted was a dream come true – and a nightmare. It came with and confirmed nasty truths, about the industry and people who wanted his success for all the wrong reasons. Those first few years were full of parties and bad decisions, chasing highs and losing track of himself in the thick of it all. One night, Santi dragged him back, reminded him why he did all of it, reminded him who they had dreamed of being. Showed him they could still be those people.

“I didn’t really know him then, we played on different teams. But we hit rock bottom around the same time and ended up leaving early from the same party.” Frankie pushed the final few grains of rice around his plate, and you wondered if that was the party Tom had gotten busted at. If they really had rescued each other, more than they realized.

God or fate gave him a second chance, and they got traded to the same team the next season, close to his home. He started visiting, supplying himself instead of just money, still playing the game - but allowing himself to enjoy it, be a human.

A tray of sopapillas came as he was telling you animatedly how bad his mother was at gardening, and how silly he felt trying to help her. It made him glow, his pride at how far he had come and you wanted to hug him. Frankie stared at the soft, puffed pastry, as if realizing for the first time he had no idea how long he’d been talking. Then he pushed his card into Anita's hand and shot you a nervous look. You shrugged, but it wasn’t about the payment, at least not entirely.

“Would you want to take these to go?”

“Go where?”

“I was thinking maybe… to meet them?” There was a silent beat, as your hands almost dropped the plates you’d been stacking.

“Wait, shit, sorry I just –” Frankie had never felt so stupid in his life. He blew it, he definitely fucked this up. He had just told you his entire life story and decided now, your very first date? Yeah, that would be a good time for you to meet his family. Thus far you’d listened and reacted like a dream, as kind and considerate as you’d ever been, but this was too much. 

Your laugh cut off his spiral.

“Okay,”

“What?”

“Okay, let’s do it.” You were shaking your head in disbelief, but god was your smile beautiful. Bright and genuine, it made him wonder again if you felt like he did. Like this wasn’t really your first date.

Like you were as deep as he was, already.

-

On the drive he told you the rest of it. His sister was running from herself like he had, except in sucky, deadbeat men. About how when they had conversation that carried them in circles and he wanted to lock her up and force her into therapy, or when the world of baseball became too much, how he went to that restaurant. How he would eat home cooking all on his own, and breathe until he found the right words for himself or for her.

When you offered him your hand, over the middle console, he took it without hesitation. It was soft and fit into his like it was meant to be, and he was reminded again how in awe he was of you. This was by no means what you had agreed to, not normal under any circumstances, but you were trusting him, rolling with it like he was worth it. 

He wanted to be, wanted all of this so bad he could hardly breathe. 

The rest of his story left almost no time for him to prep you, but when the door to the little mobile home opened, his mama greeted you like she knew you were coming.

You were lovely stepping into his truck with your hand in his, and you were lovely across from him with green chili sliding down your chin as you flushed, but this... was something else. It hit him full force, that you had listened and learned and stayed. With Tom hitting on you, with the mess at the party they shouldn’t have been at, with all of the shit in their pasts, and even this. You were really here, at his mother’s home, kissing her cheek and letting her call you his novia and accepting all of his life, all of him. 

His madre only hugged him after you, and her beam brightened as she watched you follow him, in slipping off your shoes. Every time he saw her, he thought she looked a little smaller - you’re just growing, mi frijol -  but she looked small next to you, too. Her voice was extra high as she cooed, ushering you into the cluttered mobile home, and he could help but smile as he followed, too in love with the moment to be embarrassed of her questions. 

You had listened closely, sympathetic but surprisingly determined not to be pushed away. This felt like simply an extension of that awkward and beautiful dinner, the way his mother welcomed you with open arms and rapid fire questions about yourself. She mercifully left out pushy questions about your relationship as you settled into the paisley couch, and Frankie was as warm and solid against your side as he had ever been.

There were little wrinkles around his eyes as he watched you and her, and as you began asking her questions about herself, he was more sure about you than he had ever been. It wasn’t gone completely, the feeling that this was ridiculous and he’d ruined whatever you had by going unreasonably fast with you, but he did his best to ignore it. Instead he focused on you, something he was learning was good luck.

His heart ached when you fit into his side, practically in his lap as you used him to ground yourself. It felt natural, in an intoxicating way, and he wanted you. Just like this.

When his madre thought she heard a knock and went to check, he found himself rubbing the top of your head with his jaw, his cheek, his nose. The whole night felt like it wasn’t real.

“Thank you for rolling with this,” he whispered into your hair. Your shoulder moved up and down again on his chest – a shrug.

“You’ve already met James, it’s almost the same,” you shifted to smile at him, nad he shook his head before noticing your eyes flit behind him.

At the door was a woman, dark stains under her eyes, belly stretching out the thin fabric of her shirt, and eyebrows drawn together.

His sister.

Then his mother came in pushing glasses of tea into your hands, almost as cool as the introduction, and you settled back against Frankie. Your life had become so strange these past few weeks, but you had known for what felt like a long time now. Together, it would be okay.

-

The drive home was dark, and silent for a long moment as you collected yourself, and Frankie was glad the evening started early.

“So this was a long date,” Frankie said, a question and an apology. You huffed in laughter and he offered his hand to you, saying your name with adoration, imploring you to talk to him.

“It was a lot,” you said, honestly, but you took his hand, thankful for the openness.

“Yeah,” his voice cracked, and you could see him struggling not to watch you anxiously. “I didn't plan on taking you home and all that happening, plus my mom calling you my- ”

“I know, Francisco,”

“Fuck. Do you… do you have any questions? Or…” he was beginning to panic, the undercurrent of anxiety finally uncontrollable.

His sister had been short with you, as much as she’d been with him these past few months. It was a lot, so much more than you deserved.

“Do you regret it?” It was an honest question.

Frankie’s mouth opened a little bit, his eyes suddenly steady on the road, really thinking. Then he shook his head, and a knot you didn’t know you had undid itself in your chest. He used his hand to draw yours to his mouth, ghost kisses over your knuckles, mustache only tickling a little bit. “I want you to be a part of my life, querida.” 

The truck hit a bump, and you felt pressure, and then like you were floating. You nodded, trying to find the words to tell him you wanted that, too. 

Finally, you said, “Thank you for letting me,” and he laughed. It was rich and deep and full of relief, almost giddy as it broke the tension, and you laughed too. He let your hands drop back between you, but didn’t let go, squeezing gently.

 The words unsaid didn’t really seem to matter, as he cruised five under the speed limit towards your home. 

 When you asked, “Why do you still go to those parties?” it was the last thing he has been expecting. The rush of wind by the widows felt loud as he thought.

“I guess… sometimes it feels like I’ve got nothing better to do.” It sounded lame, even to him. That wasn’t all of it, it was more complicated than that, but you understood. After this whole time, you’d stuck around, of course you did.

“What about next time, instead…” The stars were twinkling, winking at you, “You go on another date with me?”

“You still want to?” Frankie had hoped, really hoped, but hearing you offer was something different. Fire in his chest, hot and bright and powerful. When he looked over, you were nodding, smiling at him with a certainty on your face that matched his own. 

“There’s a game tomorrow,” he was half joking.

You laughed. 

“Okay.”

He pulled over under a streetlight to kiss you. 

<<

translations:

madre - mother

novia - girlfriend 

mi frijol - my bean

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge

hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien @the-witty-pen-name @daffodin @sarahjkl82-blog @pintsizemama @anaaaispunk @pjkimrn @dobbyjen

[shadowfae]

We’re all pretty aware that the tumblr otherkin community is at a huge decline; I was wondering if you have any theories as to why that is?

American Protestantism, the decline of queer oppression in North America and the AIDS crisis, helicopter parenting, web 3.0, morality politics, and  Tumblr’s porn ban; roughly in that order and rolled up into one bombshell that was a few years in the coming but nobody really saw it and understood it until it was far too late.

That was a mouthful and probably only made sense if you follow current cyberpolitical theory. For some of you reading this, as with every other hot take I have this has a chance of being passed around, that alone is enough. But for others who had no idea what I just said and need the ELI5 version, let me explain that. Buckle up, this’ll be a long one, and will go into fandom history a bit as well because it is actually relevant.

As we know, tumblr is a very American-centric platform. Twitter is also this way, but less so, but tumblr has it bad. Now, I’m ‘lucky’ in the fact that I’m Canadian and a twenty minute drive from the American border, so that puts me in the ‘privileged’ majority. (I say privileged because I’m not really sure what else to call it. Most of the information going around about politics either directly affects me or indirectly affects me approximately one or two links of contact away. Someone who’s only influenced by American politics because it makes their sister’s online friends sad is not going to be privileged in that way.)

This means that American politics and their social climate overwhelmingly affects tumblr’s social climate. This also bleeds through into other fandom spaces, on twitter, instagram, and Pixiv to name a few places; but here’s where I spend the majority of my time so here’s what I’ve witnessed.

America’s main religion, as far as I understand (from the raised agnostic and currently neopagan view I have), is some weirdass capitalistic-Protestantism that is so many miles from what the actual Bible says that if I were a betting man and knew more about cults than I did, I’d say it’s some weird fucking cult and never set foot in the country again for any reason that isn’t gaming free shipping through a PO box. If you have no idea what I just said but are at least vaguely familiar with Christianity, this graphic explains it pretty well. So we can see there’s some glaring issues with that ideal.

The decline of queer oppression and the rise of queer rights in North America, which is to tenderly include my own country but we all know when people say ‘in NA’ they mean ‘America, and Canada where it applies because the right-wing Republicans are really good in the propaganda department to convince everyone that Mexico is a drug-lords-and-anarchy wasteland to the point where even I don’t actually know what’s down there other than bad drivers and heat’; means two things. One, it’s a good thing by a long shot and do not mistake this as me thinking queer oppression being lessened is a bad thing. But two, it means that thanks to the AIDS crisis, queer folks lost a lot of first-person sources as history.

The queer elders in NA who survived are typically either a) bitter anarchists who are often POC, probably still dirt poor and do recreational drugs or b) university-tenured TERFs (trans exclusionary radical feminists). Category A are the people who Republicans have deemed worthless in every way, because racism, queerphobia, ableism, and all the other ways to be wrong and different and Evil that they can’t handle, because Jeezus would never want them to actually learn to love someone who wasn’t just like them, and they don’t have the compassion to do better. Category B are the people who want to be different in just a teensie little bit, typically with TERFs they want to be lesbians, but they don’t want to challenge the status quo. They’re fine with the way things work, they just want to be on top oppressing others over ripping the whole damn thing down and building a more forgiving system.

Now, due to all those ‘isms and the cheerfully malicious aid of the Republicans, pun not intended but drives home the cruelty of it all, we also see the rise of helicopter parenting. The invention of the internet did not really help this. Basically what you’ve got is a whole bunch of parents who saw the civil rights movement, just got access to the internet and things going viral, know the world is changing, and like all parents, they’re scared for their children. Now instead of parents knowing one or two people in their classes who just went missing one day and everyone assumed they ran away, they hear about eight homicides in the city of kids going to parks at night and dying. The Satanic Panic was another event around this time that contributed to that, but I’ll let you research that one.

This means that all of these parents, instead of doing what their parents typically did and let their kids wander off for the day so long as they’re back by sundown, they can’t let their children out of their sight. There might be a freak accident where their child is decapitated on the playground swing! Their baby might get murdered by an evil Satanist walking home from school! Their dearest darling might go online and tell their address to someone who’s got a 100% chance of being a pedophile who will show up and kidnap them in the night!

…You get the idea. 

Combine those three things I just established, what we’ve got is a lot of queer kids who have a lot of internalized shame for being different and wrong, because they’re queer, and they can’t find spaces offline to be themselves, because all of the elders who would do that are dead and/or inaccessible and their parents won’t let them go to any clubs that aren’t school-related, which they’ll never find a GSA or queer club because Republicans, ‘isms, propaganda, and the war on Category A queer adults have all done their best to ensure that those spaces don’t exist.

So you have a generation of kids who I am the youngest of. The first generation on the internet. The late Web 1.0 (usenets and Geocities) and early Web 2.0 (livejournal was the big one, ff.net too, also 4chan but fuck those guys) generation. What we were taught was: trust nobody on the internet with your real info no matter how much you like them, this is a wilderness and any crimes that happen won’t be punished or seen so don’t put yourself in a position where you’re going to be the victim of one, and everything you put online is never getting taken down so don’t put anything up that you’re not willing to have on the front page of your local newspaper.

This worked out pretty well, actually! You had kids who knew that if they got in trouble, there was no backup coming to save them. Because the form that backup might take - parents and police - wasn’t going to help. Best case, they’d be banned from their friends and online support groups for being queer. Worst case, they’d be jailed and put in juvie and conversion therapy and turn to drugs and become evil Satanists just like everyone says they secretly are already. So they learned very quickly to take care of themselves. Nobody was going to save them, so they learned to not need saving.

And then, well, Web 2.0 shifted to Web 3.0. Livejournal died because parents - the Warriors for Innocence was the big name - went “gasp how horrible my children are being exposed to the evil pedos and homosexuals they’re going to do drugs and die of AIDS!”. Which is uh. It’s filled with a lot of bigotry, and I’m not excusing them - absolutely I am not - but you can kind of see where they’re coming from, if you tilt your head and squint.

Either way, LJ died, tumblr took its place, Facebook was fast taking off, and the fandom folks who had seen mailing lists go inactive, web admins take their fanfic sites down due to copyright, entire fandoms burnt to the ground in flame wars, said ‘fuck that we’re making our own place’ and that’s how AO3 got made.

That’s important. A lot of folks move to AO3, because well, the rules let them. The rules say ‘you can throw literally anything up here so long as it’s fan content and is not literally illegal, so we don’t get taken down’. It’s a swing for the first generation internet users, those kids who know this place is a wilderness and are carving out our own sanctuary.

But. The children under us. The children for whom AIDS is a nightmarish fairy tale, for whom the ghost stories are conversion therapy, for whom know they can’t really talk to their parents about being queer but can trust they probably won’t get kicked out over it. The children who haven’t spent ten seconds without supervision except online, and their reaction isn’t ‘oh thank god I’m finally free to express myself’ but ‘if I get in trouble, who will protect me?’.

And there’s nobody there. Because we went in knowing there was no backup. And that was fine. But now, the actual adults have figured out that hey uh, maybe we should make cyber laws? Maybe we should make revenge porn and grooming children over the internet crimes? And they grew up with that. They grew up learning that no, even if your parents are suffocating and controlling, they’re always be there for you! Some adult will always be there to protect you!

That isn’t the case. It’s not. But they expect it, because it’s always been done for them. They don’t really want to change the status quo, because that means doing it themselves. They can’t do that, because they don’t know how, they’ve been controlled for every single part of their lives thanks to helicopter parenting and without that control, they don’t know how to keep their lives together, and they demand someone come and control it for them, without restraining them.

Effectively, they want someone to ensure they never face the consequences of their actions. Helicopter parents will rescue you from whatever you did, because you’re their precious baby and it doesn’t matter if you punched a kid, you can do no wrong and the other kid clearly started it.

But being queer is doing wrong. Being queer is something Jeezus doesn’t approve of. So they want to make it something he could approve of! But if it’s too off what they consider to be okay, if it’s too different and weird and wrong and evil, that can’t do, that’s still bad, and they’re precious angels, and children, and minors, why are we the adults not protecting them and letting them see it? Why aren’t we being just like their parents  but queer-friendly, why aren’t we protecting the children?

The adults who taught us were the children of those who died as a result of AIDS. The eldest of my generation knew some of them personally. My therapist’s younger brother died at 20 of AIDS, and she told me what it was like. But they don’t have that. These kids of web 3.0, they don’t have that. What they have is over-controlling parents, and the expectation that someone will always be there to protect them but hopefully in ways that don’t hurt them this time, no real understanding of why Category A queer elders are the way they are, and so much internalized shame that they have to do some pretty fancy logic-leaping to keep them from collapsing entirely.

They can’t turn into Category A queer youngsters, because they don’t know how to unravel the system around them, because they’ve never had to actually make choices in their lives and live with the consequences, because they don’t have the example of how to do it. They can’t unravel their internalized shame because again, that’s hard and they don’t have their parents to take away the consequences and pain. It doesn’t come easy to them, so it may as well not come at all.

But, you ask, if Category A queer elders aren’t around to teach the kids, then how are they learning anything positive at all? Well, Category B, our university-tenured TERFs, who don’t want to change the status quo but want to just be at the top of it instead.

For a lot of kids who don’t know how to make hard choices but want to be queer, this is an extremely attractive option. But when they go online to queer spaces, a lot of them say fuck terfs, we don’t support your hate, and they go ‘yeah okay that makes sense’. They can say fuck terfs without ever actually questioning why terfs are bad. They’re Bad and Evil, just like drug addicts, just like fairytale nazis, just like the evil homophobes.

And we saw them say ‘yeah fuck terfs’ and we were like, ‘aight you got it’ and we never questioned if they actually understood us. They didn’t. They didn’t, and we didn’t do enough to fix it, because not enough of us realized the problem. So terfs got a little sneaky. They hid behind dogwhistles and easy little comments, hiding their rhetoric in queer theory that you’ll absolutely miss if you just memorize it and never actually question it and understand why that point is being made.

This goes back to America sucking, because their school system is far more focused on rote memorization over actual logic and understanding of the text. They’re engaging with queer theory the way they’ve been taught, which is memorize and don’t think, don’t question. Besides, questioning and understanding is hard. Being shown different points of view and asked what they think is not only hard but requires them to go against all of the conditioning that says to just listen and agree and never question it, which goes back to tearing the system and internalized shame down, and we’ve established they can’t do that so naturally they don’t do that.

This begets, then, the rise of exclusionary politics. They’re turning into Category B queer youngsters, because we told them ‘hey that’s a terf talking point what are you doing’ and they never questioned why. They learned you can do all sorts of things, just don’t say X, Y, or Z, because they never thought deeply about it.

The children who have grown on Web 3.0 do not want to do any heavy lifting to make things easier for themselves long-run. They want to do as little as possible and have things get better for them. There isn’t enough of us left in Category A, because Category B terfs are very good at recruiting young folks and Cat. A is overwhelming poor, dead, and easily dismissed in the system as evil and bad, so we can’t exactly convince the young folks to listen. If all of the young kids could agree to tear down the system, a lot more older folks might listen. Change always starts with the young, and there’s a reason for that.

But Republicans have figured out, if you get people fighting, they never put together a force that can actually stop you. TERFs, who want the exact same thing as Republicans but with themselves on top, are doing this to queer youth, and Cat. A elders can’t fight back because there isn’t enough of them and the odds are against them, and the young folk like me who follow their lead.

People can kinda handle gay people. It’s not so far from the acceptable normal that it’s impassable. But you want them to handle kinky people? Gay people of colour? Kinky gay people of colour? Trans people? Those are bridges too far to step across. The original idea was to get the foot in the door with marriage equality and inch our way through with racial equality, sex positivity, dismantling ableism and perisexism (forgive me if that isn’t the word for anti-intersex ‘ism), and see if we can’t patch up the system instead of inciting a civil war over this and have to tear down the system entirely.

Well, we might’ve managed that if not for AIDS being the perfect ‘Jeezus is killing all the evil gay people for being sinners’ propaganda machine. As it stands now, not a chance in hell. So long as Republicans and terfs keep everyone fighting, nobody has the power to dismantle their empire, and they stay in power.

So then, you ask me, “Lu what the fuck does that have to do with the decline of otherkinity on tumblr???” and now that you’ve got all that background knowledge, here is your answer.

Those children who want their experiences curated for them and the evil icky content they don’t like to be gone because it disgusts them and anything that disgusts them is clearly sinful problematic and should be destroyed, are what we call ‘antishippers’, or anti for short.

They like being progressive. Sort of. They learned what Republicans and terfs have honed to a fine talent: keep people fighting, hold them to a bar they have to constantly make or risk being ostracized, and harass the people who don’t play along into getting out of your sight forever. Sound familiar?

They learned of otherkinity, and particularly fictionkind, because web 3.0 means if something goes viral on one site, it doesn’t just go viral on that site, it makes it to worldwide newspapers and twitter and nobody ever, ever fucking forgets it. They realized the following: “Hey wait, if I’m this character for realsies, not only does it help me deal with the internalized shame I’ve done nothing to actually fix because that takes work, I can also tell these people who draw gross content I don’t like they’re hurting me personally, and that actually sounds credible, and I can shame them into stopping”.

If this is your first time here and that sounds sickening, it damn well should, and I am so, so sorry that any of us had to witness this, and I am more sorry I and everyone else who personally witnessed this didn’t realize what was going on and put a stop to it. I answer asks and browse the tags and clear up misinformation and it isn’t just a genuine desire to help. It’s damage control, and my own way of trying to deal with the guilt of not stopping this. I’m well aware I couldn’t have seen it coming, I was a teenager myself still learning and no one person has that much power. I still feel like I should have done more, and I’ll do what I can to fix what’s within my power to fix.

So back to the story. This all culminates around 2016 or so. Trump wins the election, and every queer person ever knows they’re fucked, and the younger generation’s only ever heard horror stories, never seen actual oppression that this could bring. We’re all scared. We all don’t know what to do. Nobody has any answers or any control over the situation.

So they lash out. They attack others for drawing things they don’t like, for challenging them in literally any way, for asking them to reconsider the vile shit they just said, for so much as defending themselves from the harassment they just got. And when challenged, they yell “But I’m a minor! A literal child! How dare you attack me, clearly you get off on this, you evil pedophile!” and they sling around every insult in the book until one sticks. Pedophile is a pretty good one, so is abuser, and sometimes zoophile works out too. Freak is great, everyone gets right pissed off about it.

The fact that Category A queer elders were called pedophiles and freaks is not a fact they know or care about. The fact that they are quickly making every fandom community super toxic is also not a fact they care about. The fact that the ‘kin community has words and terminology and they actually mean shit, and the fact that they’re spreading misinformation faster than we can keep up with, are not facts they care about.

So they come in, take our terms, make it impossible for us to find new folks. They realize our anger is easily a power trip, because we’re already made fun of, so they get off on the little power they can find and make fun of us too, and then when we get rightfully annoyed and pissed off, they can hide behind being minors.

Then tumblr implements their porn ban, because nobody’s stopping them, because it isn’t profitable to have porn on here. Considering most of the otherkin community, and most fandom communities, are full of adults who do occasionally talk about NSFW things, and the fact that they’re just banning everyone who so much as breathes wrong, this begins the start of a mass exodus, scattering already fragile communities to twitter, pillowfort, dreamwidth, and a few other places. Largely, twitter, where you can’t make a post longer than a snappy comeback and where the algorithm is literally designed to piss you off as much as possible.

So community elders have largely left, because they can’t stand the drama and the pain of what’s happened, and that’s if they didn’t get banned for being kinky furries who do talk about how their kintypes merge with their sexuality. Most community members have also left or stopped talking about being ‘kin, because they get associated with antishippers and toxicity and it’s just not worth it. Those of us who are left get drowned out by misinformation and trolls and wishkin and antishippers who appropriate our terminology because it supports them getting a power trip, and whenever we argue, we get called pedophiles and freaks and worse.

And now there isn’t much left. I hope we get to find a better place. Othercon was a good place to talk about it, I did a whole panel (it’s on Youtube!) about what we want to do about it. But I don’t really have any answers. 

But to sum it all up... America’s political climate ultimately culminated in destroying queer spaces, and we survived, and then people who wanted to destroy smaller communities to get on top showed up and we were all but defenseless against something we had never, ever dealt with before on this scale.

One of my twitter mutuals mentioned how kinning and otherkin are now completely separate communities. It’s really the best I can do to keep hoping that continues, until nobody realizes the words are at all connected to each other. It’s the best anyone can hope for, now. I hate it. I hate every part of this. But maybe we can salvage what’s left.

[alwaysachorusgirl]

Not According To Plan

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Reader

Word Count: 1,557

TW: none really, just a very brief mention of assault and crime scene photos?

A/N: A follow up to Almost Perfect, but can be read as a stand alone. Just a whole lot of fluff, (sorry, not sorry if it's so sweet it rots your teeth. I still like a sweet, romantic Frederick) This was originally supposed to cover the Cuddling square for #thatesqcrush Valentine's Day Bingo, but it kept getting pushed to the back-burner, and by the time I started working on it again, I knew it wasn't going to be done in time. But I wanted to finish it and get it posted before moving on to something else, so here it is. Better late than never?

Tags: @madamsnape921 (If anyone wants to be tagged in a future fic post, please let me know!)

It was safe to say that your first Valentine’s Day with Frederick Chilton wasn’t going the way you had hoped it would. It had started off well enough, with the both of you waking up early and making love before work, but once you had arrived at work, everything had gone downhill quickly. Yes, Frederick had a bouquet of red roses delivered to your office, but you barely had any time to enjoy them, as you had to rush to finish up a report for the board that wasn’t supposed to have been due until the following week. Then Jack Crawford and Will Graham had showed up needing a psychiatric consult for a new case. The crime scene photos were so gruesome you had rush to the ladies’ room to throw up. The final straw had been when one your patients had attacked you during a therapy session. Thankfully, you knew how to defend yourself and you’d had an orderly with you. You came away from it with a few bumps and bruises and a cut on your cheek. But you were shaken up enough that Frederick had insisted that you go home and relax, promising that he’d finish up his own work and join you as soon as possible.

And now it was going on 4pm and you were standing at the living room window of Frederick’s, no, your house, you lived here now, gazing out at the front yard and street, wishing for Frederick’s car to come into view. He had called you 30 minutes ago to let you know he was leaving the hospital but had a stop to make. The weather forecast was calling for a snowstorm to blow in that evening, and the snow was already starting to fall. You didn’t want Frederick to get caught driving in that. You shivered, feeling the chill through the glass.

You felt something small and furry brush against leg and looked down, smiling when you saw the black kitten looking up at you. She placed her front paws on your leg and meowed, signaling that she wanted “up”. You knelt down and picked her up, snuggling her against your chest. She nuzzled her nose against your chin and let out another soft meow.

“I know, Buttercup, I know, baby, I’m worried about Daddy, too.” You took one last look, then closed the heavy curtains to better insulate the room. You crossed the room to the thermostat and turned up the heat, and then went to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine to calm your nerves.

You and Frederick had been together for about 6 months now, and they’d been the happiest months of your life. Ever since that eventful first date the previous summer, you and Frederick had been practically inseparable. You had moved in with him after New Year’s, and while you had never moved so fast in your previous relationships, Frederick was different. You were completely in love with him. He was the one, there was no doubt about that in your mind. Whenever you imagined your future, you saw him in it, you saw marriage, kids, all of it.

You had expected him to at least put up an argument when you suggested adopting a cat, but your dear, sweet man couldn’t deny you anything. Instead, he started researching what kind of supplies you’d need and looking at the local animal shelter websites to see what your options were. And that was how you found Buttercup. From the moment you saw her picture, you just knew. And when you went to the shelter and held her for the very first time, she fell asleep and started purring. She went home with you that day. She’d only been with you for a few weeks now, but she was already settled in and followed you and Frederick everywhere. She always wanted to cuddle and that suited you and Frederick just fine.

You wanted nothing more than to be cuddled up with Frederick right now. The perfect Valentine’s Day that you had planned was falling apart. The elaborate meal you were going to prepare? You were too tired to cook. That new lingerie you bought? You were no longer in the mood to wear it, or for sex. You would stick with your hoodie and soft, knit lounge pants tonight. Your stomach growled, and your mind went to the desert that you had prepared the night before. The red velvet cake trifle with the raspberry/blackberry red wine reduction sauce was chilling in the fridge.

“Should I?” You asked, looking down at Buttercup, still nestled in your arms.

“Mew?” she replied, looking confused. Then her eyes went to the drawstring on your hoodie and she began batting at it with her paw. “Mew…” You couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re absolutely right, sweetie, I think some playtime is definitely warranted.”

******************

Buttercup wiggled her backside and pounced, her tiny paws swiping at the oversize peacock feather you were dangling in front of her. You laughed as she grabbed onto it and tried to bite down. When you tried to pull it away, she rolled over onto her back and started kicking it with her hind paws. It was one of the cutest sights in the world and you couldn’t get enough. Seeing her so happy made you happy. You both jumped when you heard the front door open and close, followed by the sound of footsteps and a cane clicking on the hardwood floor.

“Darling?”

You breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Frederick’s voice. Buttercup went bounding to meet to him and you got up and followed, smiling when you saw Frederick hanging up his coat in the entryway closet. Buttercup was welcoming him home by weaving around his legs, meowing her little head off.

“Hmm…fascinating…” Frederick nodded in reply to the kitten, “and then what did you do today?”

You heart swelled at the sight. You loved the way he interacted with her and spoke to her like she was a human. It made you wonder what he would be like with a little one of your own…He met your gaze and you rushed to him, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Thank god, your home! I was so worried about you getting stuck in the snow!”

His arms encircled you, pulling you flush against him. “There is no snowstorm powerful enough to keep me away from you, my love. Forgive me for not getting here sooner. The roads are already a mess, and you said you didn’t feel like cooking, so I picked up some takeout.” He indicated two brown paper bags sitting on the small table by the front door.

You looked up at him and smiled. “Have I ever told you how much I love you? Because I love you.”

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you, too, Y/N, and I never get tired of hearing it. How are you feeling?”

“Much better now that you’re home.”

Frederick wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. All the tension melted out of your body as you got lost in the warm sensation. All of his kisses were loving and passionate, and this was no different, his lips melding perfectly with yours. You gently started to run your tongue all his lower lip, intending to deepen the kiss, but were interrupted by a loud yowl and Buttercup headbutting you in the shin. You and Frederick looked down and saw her staring back, giving you the most forlorn look that she could muster

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we haven’t forgotten about you,” you reassured her. “Do you want your dinner?”

“Mew! Mew!” She answered, insistently rubbing against your leg.

You looked back at Frederick. “I’m going to get her taken care of, then we’ll eat, okay?”

Frederick nodded and kissed you one more time. “I’ll get the food plated while you do that.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You rested your forehead against his, hesitant to let him go.

“My love? Is everything alright?”

“Are you okay if we just cuddle on the couch tonight? I just…I just really need you to hold me.”

Frederick placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and gave you a warm smile. “As you wish, my love.”

“Did you just…”

“Yes, I did,” he replied with a chuckle. “Cuddling on the couch sounds perfect. Whatever make you happy is more than fine with me.”

“Thank you,” you said, pulling him in for another kiss. “I love you, Frederick.”

“I love you, too, my darling.”

********************

“So, do you think it will snow enough that we won’t have to go into work tomorrow?”

“One can only hope, my love,” Frederick answered, kissing your temple.

The two of you were cuddled on the couch under a blanket watching your favorite movie. You were curled up on your side with Frederick spooning you from behind, his arms wrapped around your mid-section. Buttercup was snuggled up in front of you, purring away.

“This is perfect,” you remarked, turning your head to glance back at Frederick. “I mean, this isn’t how I thought our first Valentine’s Day would go, but I’m happy, nonetheless. I love you, Frederick.”

“I love you, too, Y/N, Happy Valentine’s Day.”

[softer-ua]

I have no idea what Bakugou would have done if Izuku died in the sludge Villain accident. They had a lot of strong unresolved emotions, I just can't fully visualize it, the only thing I have clear is him trying to latch onto anger, but that would burn out fast because the Villian was trapped and the heroes did their thing (Winning, which at that point he believed everything was) so I don't know what would he do. Sooo...could you please give us your insight? Please :D

I’d love to give my insight! Thank you for asking!!!🥰

It would depend on which sludge incident, the one where Deku ran to save Katsuki or the one where Deku was on his own? 🤔 I’ve got ideas on both lol

Buckle up this is gonna be a long one, and it’s not a fun ride

For the first I think Katsuki would latch onto anger and be a self hating righteous little monster for the rest of eternity. Because obviously he’s never getting therapy.

If he can blame himself for AM’s retirement and his parents can blame him for getting kidnapped than I have zero doubt the Entire Bakugo family would blame Katsuki for Dekus death. That family loves to victim blame, and Mitsuki would have a field day with chart topping world’s lowest blows like

If Katsuki hadn’t been hanging out in an alley and had gone straight home the villain wouldn’t have got him

If Katsuki hadn’t just been randomly blasting the heros wouldn’t have had to divert their attention to the fire

If Katsuki hadn’t been so weak(what’s the point of that flashy quirk if you can’t even save yourself)

Going with him to make him apologize to Inko (trying to imagine this feels like my brains touching a hot stove, it would be a thousand times more horrible and scarring than being forced to apologize to his Idol and teach for being kidnapped)

If hs Katsuki didn’t have the tools to block out his mother and broke down over a 50 year old man retiring, then poor ms Katsuki doesn’t stand a chance against being forced to bare the blame in someone’s actual death, especially not Dekus. Plus whatever destructive aftermath Katsuki created.

Did you have to blow up the entire alley way??

Katsuki would also never stop blaming those heros, even if the villain was captured they lost what really mattered, Dekus life.

They should have stopped the villain before Deku ever showed up

They should have never let Deku cross the line

They should have saved him

I think his fear of being weak would have been magnified by 10000. And it wouldn’t be a stretch for me to believe that witnessing that kind of hero failure so personally would be his villain origin. But even if it wasn’t, I think 10 months of stewing in grief, rage and self hate at such a young age would leave some very permanent scars

He’d habitually train to the point of self harm(reminder to check in on your fitness bros)

He’d never ever let someone close to him again (he didn’t want Deku close to him in the first place and look at how bad it hurt anyway)

He wouldn’t give a shit about any heros opinion anymore, if it’s not about how he can get stronger than any would be mentor can fuck off

His ego would have taken a massive hit, he’s no longer trying to prove he’s the best

Instead he’s insuring it because he’s never losing anyone again

Even with that in mind I think the sports festival actually would have gone a lot calmer because he no longer gives a shit about showing off, he’s just fighting to test himself and Dekus the one who pushed Todoroki to the point anyone even knew he had a fire side(I always wonder how much longer Aizawa was gonna let that go on for) so he’d except his medal quietly so it’s possible the lov would never have tried to recruit him

I think he’d be a lot more proactive in helping his classmates get stronger

Just not in a cute tsundere way anymore, but in a “if you can’t keep up with me I will keep attempting to murder you until you drop out” way, because B List heros are not allowed to be a thing anymore

Eventually he would grow up to be the top hero and he revels in that victory by hating himself, his job, his coworkers, his family, and everyone and everything else. The best part of his days are the adrenaline highs and that’s not even a happy high, in a bad headspace it just makes you ansty and aggressive, still better than being a hallow husk of resentments

I wouldn’t be surprised if he eventually did kill a fellow pro for not meeting his standards. Depending on what the hero did to earn his ire would shape wether he went on to be the new hero killer or simply stopped being a hero himself in custody or more permanently

Now if the villain had instead been captured after being caught hiding in Dekus flesh suit things would have been very different than the above

Katsuki would definitely be traumatized at this news, so would most of their class and they’d probably do some kind of memorial deal, and over the course of a couple of days Katsuki would slowly descend into madness at watching his class act like they have ever given a single fuck about Deku

Then he would speedball into it, because how dare they grieve over him, non of them deserve to especially not him

He’d be angry for as long as he could, at himself and everyone else, but eventually that’d putter out without anyone stoking the fire, no one else blames his class for feeling sad and no one blames the heros for not existing on every single possible street corner

Maybe he makes it through UA. He’s not as hot head, not as naive, but teens hold grudges like no other, he can be mad at the world a little longer.

Throws himself into the work so he doesn’t have time to think. He’s going to be the best because Deku always believed he would be and if he’s not allowed to be sad than this will be his only way to honor the nerds memory.

But the thing about pain is that it demands to be felt.

Eventually his regrets and grief would come for him, in a year or in ten years doesn’t matter they will eventually claim the time and space they need with interest.

He’d probably meet his regrets first so that he can be mad at himself for a little longer

He should have let Deku be

If he hadn’t held Deku up after class maybe he’d have made it home

His last words play on loop growing distorted and more malicious as the years go on(fun fact about memory ! It’s easily manipulated because each time you remember something you’re actually just remembering the last time you remembered the thing! Basically your brain reconstructs the memory completely each time! Fuck it up once and it’s all down hill)

He regrets not ensuring that he’d have more than his flimsy memories to hold onto Deku with, he never realized he’d want to, never could fully conceive that he’d actually have to.

He should have been kinder

He should have been less of a coward and faced his own insecurities

He should have talked to Deku about so many things

He can’t just focus on what he did and didn’t do forever tho, eventually he’ll have to recognize the hole Deku left behind, his regrets will paint the picture of his grief

Maybe he forgets the exact date of Dekus birthday but he knows it was in the summer, he regrets not going to his last one and grieves never going to a next one.

He regrets not going to the funeral, of course he was sad, he’d been an idiot to think he couldn’t be

He regrets not visiting Dekus grave, and grieves over how long he’s been gone now

He regrets that he had to learn what the value of saving is by having lost, god how he grieves that loss

Without Deku Kaminari never hears that nickname, Kacchan died with Deku. He grieves over never hearing it again

He wonders if Dekus hanging out with Kacchan wherever he is, he wonders if this makes him crazy.

He grieves over Deku dying so young, so alone, so horribly. It gives him nightmares, he can’t imagine the pain of having all his organs crushed down from the inside, and yet he’s some how intimately aware of its possibility. He debates looking for the autopsy results, maybe if he confirms it was asphyxiation and not internal blunt trauma the nightmares will stop. But you don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.

He grieves over the dreams Deku never got to chase, and regrets ever playing a part in taking away the happiness a dream is supposed to have

He grieves over the Deku shaped hole in his life that seemed to grow with him despite only ever getting to know the knobby knees version, he can’t help but think with every achievement and milestone “you should be here”

He doesn’t hate his life, it just feels half lived.

Without Deku pushing his buttons and no god complex shaped alarm bells people were slower to reach out to him.

Without Deku to vouch for his good qualities people were a lot more hesitant to see them.

He still did make friends it’s just a shallower connection and he doesn’t make time for them

He becomes top hero but the victory feels hallow like there should have been more of a fight for it. Maybe he is crazy but it feels like it should have been Deku fighting him for it.

His saves are legendary and numerous, he’s never able to shake the feeling that there’s someone out there who needs him just around the corner

Between the nightmares and the anxiety clocking off gives him he probably gets less sleep than any hero before him, even Aizawa.

It was a short career

[honey-dewey]

Handicapped Parking

Pairing: Javier Peña/disabled Reader

Word Count: 2,992

Warnings: Reader is wheelchair bound, canon-typical violence, nightmares, small bit of angst, one use of (F/N) (L/N).

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Javier could not believe what he was seeing. A handicapped parking spot at the embassy. Who the hell worked at the US embassy and for the DEA that was disabled enough to need handicapped parking? You, that’s who. The brand new recruit and official partner for Steve and Javier, you are about to be hell on wheels for those two boys.

Javier Peña had never seen anything like what he was seeing now. A handicapped spot right in front of the building with a car parked in it. A new car that hadn’t been there yesterday. As Javier parked, he eyed the spot. Who the hell chose a job like this if they were disabled? Best anyone could do was paperwork, and that was mind numbing. 

Javier almost forgot about it as he walked into the building, greeting the same people he did every morning. Steve was at his desk, hunched over some new paperwork, and he looked up when Javier walked in. “Hey, Javi. Check this out. We have a new partner.” 

“Hm?” Javier lit a cigarette. It was too early for this. 

A paper was pushed across the desk. “Yeah. Hired yesterday. Meant to keep us in check.” 

Javier snorted, reading over the papers. “This says,” he said, looking up at Steve. “This says they’re disabled.” 

“So what if I am?” 

You had just come back from a very frustrating bathroom break to find your other new partner standing at his desk. You rolled forward, holding out a hand. “(F/N) (L/N), DEA.” 

Javier shook your hand and introduced himself. You slotted you and your wheelchair into your desk, which was perpendicular to Steve’s and Javier’s. “So, anything new?” 

Steve explained everything they knew and what their current goal was, and you raised an eyebrow.

“He’s in prison,” you pointed out. “Why are we trying to disrupt that.” 

“We want his ass in a real prison,” Javier grumbled without looking up from his typewriter. “Not that palace he calls a jail.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, looking over the terms and conditions of the surrender. “So we prove he’s violating these terms. Easy.” 

Steve shrugged. “Not as easy as it sounds. Cigarette?” 

You wrinkled your nose at the offered cigarette. “I don’t smoke.” 

“Okay. One less person I gotta share with,” Steve said, holding his cigarette out to Javier, who picked up his lighter and lit it all without looking up. 

The three of you worked in silence for a while. You managed to go through four pots of coffee before three PM, which would’ve been only mildly concerning. However, you and Steve each only had maybe a pot and a half between you. Javier drank the other two and a half pots. So it was mildly concerning for you and Steve, and pretty damn concerning for Javier. 

“Jesus I don’t know how your heart hasn’t given out yet,” you said when Javier went back for his seventh or maybe eighth cup of coffee. 

“This is a light day for him,” Steve said, looking up when someone placed a piece of paper on his desk. “Usually he’ll have three pots and I’ll have one. He doesn’t sleep much.” 

You made a face, putting new paper into your typewriter. Javier came back with his coffee cup and immediately groaned upon seeing Steve reading the paper. “Who wants us to do what?” 

Steve chuckled. “You remember that pigeon coup? They want us to stake it out.” 

Another groan, this time a bit louder. You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from laughing while looking expectantly at Steve. “Can I see?” 

Steve handed you the paper and you read it over. “Well. I guess that solves our violating the terms problem.” 

The stakeout was to last as long as it had to, and as you pulled up to the prison before dawn on one warm morning, you immediately knew this would be hell. Steve and Javier took turns waiting outside while you sat in the car, your typewriter in your lap. Your window was open and you occasionally handed the boys whatever they needed from inside the car. 

Finally, when the sun began to crest the hills, you braved the outside. Strapping your crutches to your arms, you swung your legs out and slowly made your way across the grass. 

“I thought you couldn’t walk.” Javier said as soon as you were standing beside him. 

“I can,” you promised. “Car accident. Left me paralyzed, but with lots of therapy, I was able to regain some of my legs. I just prefer the chair because no matter what, my legs won’t support my weight for more than a few steps. When I walk I use crutches and braces to keep my knees, ankles, and waist stable.” 

Steve whistled, handing Javier a thermos. “I’ve never seen crutches like that before.” 

“Gutter crutches.” You watched Javier take one sip of the coffee and immediately pour the rest of it out onto the ground. “Mostly for long term work. Is that a pigeon?” 

Steve turned and Javier raised his gun. Three wasted shots later, and you were scoffing. “Damn. You’re a shit shot Peña.” 

“Think you can do better?” 

You took the gun, abandoning your crutches and catching the next pigeon in your sight. Your legs wavered, but you locked your knees and tried to stay steady. “I got it.”

“Shoot.” 

You waited, ignoring Javier. 

“Shoot!” 

Again, you waited until the perfect moment before shooting and killing the pigeon in one shot. 

Steve smiled, taking the gun from you. “Ever been duck hunting?” 

Javier watched him jog after the pigeon. “No, I’ve not been duck hunting you fucking hillbilly.” 

You wavered, falling flat on your ass as your knees gave out. “Damn these legs!” You swore, grabbing your discarded crutches and strapping them to your arms. By the time you’d finally struggled to your feet, Steve was back with the pigeon. 

“Thanks for the help,” you said sourly at Javier, who had simply watched you grapple upright. 

“In my experience,” he said in an equally cool tone. “People like you don’t need much help. I’m sure all I would’ve gotten was a crutch to the knee for my help.” 

You glared at him while he read the small letter tied to the pigeon’s leg. God you hated that man. 

The next few months were odd. You fell into a rhythm with Steve and Javier. Neither underestimated you anymore, and finally, they learned exactly where your boundaries lay with help. Steve had a bruise on his leg for two straight weeks after you whacked him with your crutch when he asked if you needed help shooting a gun (you most definitely did not) and Javier only ever gave you help when he noticed you struggling. Like when some new intern put the coffee mugs too high for you to reach without standing up and Javier had, very kindly, silently handed you your mug. He did a lot of things silently, usually with that scowl on his face. 

“We got a call,” Steve said one day, poking his head into your office space, if it could even be called that. “Let’s go!” 

You groaned, standing and hearing your back pop four times as you followed Steve out, your crutches clicking on the linoleum as you headed to the waiting Jeep. 

“Why’s Javi driving?” You asked as you got into the back. “I get so carsick when he drives!” 

Javier gave you a look in the rearview mirror. “Strap in sugar.” 

You rolled your eyes. None of you wore seatbelts. You just didn’t have time for it. So instead, you simply gripped the back of Steve’s seat while Javier drove like a maniac towards your destination. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you grumbled as you got out of the car, shaking off the car sickness and looking around. Nothing seemed very out of the ordinary aside from the cop cars surrounding a particular building. “Who’s in there?” 

“We don’t know,” Steve said, helping you with your tac vest. “Whoever it is, they’re worth the cavalry.” 

Half of your job was waiting, which was hell. You stood leaned up against Steve, trying to keep your weight off your aching back. As the minutes ticked by, you talked to one of the younger cops who’d been left outside. He was sweet, teaching you a few Spanish phrases and smiling when you butchered them. 

So of course, when the man you were trying to catch raced out of the building, wildly firing his gun, the young cop got a bullet to the back of the head. 

“Shit!” You yelled, looking around as the man raced off. You yanked your crutches off your arms and gestured to Javier. “Come on!” 

Javier was on your heels as you ran, trying to steady your feet and knees. Your hips and lower back screamed, but you just kept going, relying entirely on your braces to support you. 

Eventually, the stress became too much. Two blocks down, your legs stopped working, sending you screaming to the ground, wildly throwing your hands out to catch yourself before you broke your nose on something. Thankfully, the road was long and flat, so as soon as you righted yourself, you raised your gun and shot the guy in the shoulder. 

He went down, clutching his shoulder in pain while you breathed heavy, dragging your limp lower half over to the wall of a building, leaning against the worn down brick. 

“Hey,” Javier said, coming to stand in front of you. “You ran.” 

“I ran,” you agreed, holding your left knee as it twitched. “That’s a week and a half of chair time, straight. Fuck.” 

Javier sat beside you, watching cops run past to grab the man you’d been chasing. “You want help back?” 

You snorted. “Javi, I won’t make it three steps like this.” To demonstrate, you attempted to haul yourself upright and almost immediately hit the pavement, hissing sharply as you came down harder than intended. 

“So.” Javier looked you up and down. “Is that a no?” 

“Yeah that’s a no.” You stared at the sky, feeling your stomach twist. “Y’know what I want? A cup of tea. I haven’t had one in a while.”

Javier shrugged. “I’ve got a really good tea at my apartment,” he said. “My mother mails me some once a month. You’re bleeding.” 

You looked down at your hands, finally noticing the ragged scrapes across your palms from when you’d fallen. “Oh. I didn’t even notice.” 

“How’d you not notice?” Javier asked, taking your hands and digging through his pockets. “We can disinfect it for real back at the office, but for now,” he said, producing a small roll of gauze from his pocket. “This will have to do.” 

You sat still while Javier bandaged your hands. By then, the street had been completely cleared, and you were looking for Steve. 

“He’s probably waiting in the car,” Javier said, finishing up on your hands. “We’re gonna have to go to him.” He looked hesitantly at your legs. They’d stopped twitching, but they were still completely useless. “Got any ideas?” 

“Unless you wanna carry me,” you said with a sigh. “It’d probably be easiest to call Steve.”

Javier stood, crouching down in front of you. “Can you get on?” 

It took some maneuvering and a bit of heavy lifting on Javier’s part, but eventually, you were being carried back to the Jeep, arms slung over Javier’s shoulders and him gripping your legs as he gave you a piggyback ride. 

“Comfy?” He asked, and you chuckled. 

“Mhm. Totally not in horrible pain,” you replied, feeling yet another stab of discomfort hit your back. 

Javier was quiet for a minute before speaking again. “Why’d you come here? No offense, but you’re not exactly fit for the job.” 

“Like I got to pick this,” you said, leaning to cheek against Javier’s shoulder. “I was reassigned. I never asked to come down here.” 

Another long beat of silence, and then, “I’m sorry.” 

“Nah. It’s fine,” you promised. “Just a bit stressful sometimes.” 

Eventually, the car came back into view, and Steve rushed over to meet you, your crutches in his hand. “What were you thinking?” 

“Chase the bad guy,” you said, smiling as Javier turned around and put you down in the car. “Really, I wasn’t. I just went.” 

“Yeah, well,” Steve said, ever the voice of reason. “Don’t do that again. You scared me.” 

The drive back to the office was quiet. Javier had to carry you inside the building, and Steve found a hot water bottle to press against your back. Javier finished properly treating your hands while Steve filled the water bottle with water from the kettle. 

“Really, a hot bath will probably help the most,” you said, putting the hot water bottle in between your back and the chair you used whenever you didn’t need your wheelchair. “But this’ll do for now.” 

Your night was late, as it always was. You weren’t attempting to leave the building until well past ten PM, and when you tried to stand, Javier put a hand on your shoulder. “Nope.” 

“No?” You said, surprised. “Let me up Javi, unless you want a crutch to the ankle.” 

Javier didn’t move. Instead, he scooped you up in a bridal carry, causing you to squeak indignantly. “Javier!” 

“Yes?” 

“Put me down! I am more than capable of walking myself to your car!” 

Javier shrugged as best he could while carrying you. “You had me piggyback you two blocks earlier and you couldn’t get up all day to get your own coffee. I’m carrying you to the car.” 

You pouted, but realized that squirming would only serve to hurt you and probably Javier as well, so you remained still as Javier placed you in his car. 

The drive home was, as with most things Javier did, quiet. When he pulled up to the building, you made him go into your apartment across the hall from his and grab your wheelchair. When he came back, you smacked him away when he tried to help you into it. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned, feeling your back pop painfully. “Fuck.” 

“C’mon,” Javier said softly, handing you back our crutches so you could put them across your lap. “I believe I promised you tea.” 

You sighed. “Javi, I wanna go home.” 

Javier nodded. “I’ll bring it to you. How’s that sound?” 

At the notion that Javier would be coming to your apartment, you sighed and gave in. “Fine. I’ll leave it unlocked.” 

Ten minutes after you’d gotten settled on your couch, Javier came into your apartment, carrying two cups of tea. He set one down on your coffee table and kept the other in his hands. “Feeling better?” 

“Yeah, actually,” you said, reaching and grabbing the mug. “Painkillers are my new best friend.” 

Javier sat down on the couch. “You know you could ask to be sent home,” he said. “They’d probably do it.” 

“Yeah,” you said slowly. “But then I wouldn’t be able to see you or Steve anymore.” 

“That’s what’s keeping you here? Me and Steve?” 

You nodded. “Javi, before this, no one would even look at me. I was disabled and trying to work in law enforcement. You and Steve treat me like a capable adult, and people actually listen to what I have to say now.” 

Javier was quiet. “That sucks.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” You took a sip of your tea, smiling. “This is good.” 

“Custom blend,” Javier said. “Mamá always insisted it could cure anything.” 

You smiled. “You tell her to mail some extra if she can. It’s amazing.” 

You and Javier sat in your living room until midnight, drinking tea and swapping work stories. Finally, when you began to yawn, Javier stood. “I think it’s time for bed.” 

“Aww,” you groaned, pulling your wheelchair closer. “But I was having so much fun.” 

Javier smiled as you sat in your wheelchair and headed towards your bedroom. “Need anything before I go?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, actually. Can you help me into bed? When my back hurts a lot it’s kind of hard to haul myself into bed.” 

“Sure.” 

Between you and Javier, you were able to slide into bed, immediately feeling weary. “Javi?”

“Hm?” Javier turned, standing in your doorway. “What is it?” 

You fidgeted nervously. “Stay? Please? I’ve started having nightmares recently and they really scare me.” 

Javier nodded. “Okay. Let me grab my pyjamas, I’ll be right back.” 

By the time Javier had returned, you were half asleep. He waved to you and settled down on your couch, likely not falling asleep, but you sure as hell did. 

It was early morning, before sunrise but well after midnight, that you woke up, breathing heavy and immediately starting to cry. The shattered pieces of your nightmare were practically gone now, leaving you with nothing but jitters, a looming sense of dread, and the image of blinding headlights in your brain. 

“Hey,” a gentle voice said, and you jumped, heart pounding before you remembered you’d asked Javier to spend the night. “Are you okay?” 

You shook your head. No point in trying to lie to him. He could see you crying. 

Javier slid into the bed with you, pulling you close and letting you cry into his shirt. When you were spent of tears, he continued to rub your back, his warmth seeping into your skin. “Wanna talk about it?” 

“I don’t remember much,” you admitted. “I think.” You had to force your words out, your throat pulling tight. “I think I dreamed I was in the car accident.” 

Javier was quiet. “You’re fine,” he promised after a beat. “Hey, you hear me?” 

You nodded, wondering when you’d begun to shake. 

“You’re safe here,” Javier said. “Safe as can be.” 

“I trust you,” you said softly, still buried in Javier’s shirt. “Trust you a lot,” you mumbled, yawning widely and feeling your eyes blink shut. 

“I think you need more sleep,” Javier said softly, helping you lay back down. “Agent’s orders.” 

You smiled, the sick feeling in your stomach sliding away. “Mhm. Stay with me Agent Peña.” 

Javier lay down beside you, pulling you close. “If you insist.” 

For the first time in a long time, both of you slept fitfully, cradled in each other’s arms.

[binniedeactivated]

saint. || soobin (3.10)*finale*🌪

congratulations! you’ve made it to the final part and very last chapter of saint! thank you so much for reading I appreciate you in every way! enjoy my love! <3

pairing: soobin x reader genre: au word count; 4k

blinded by fury, soobin made his way outside using all the strength he could muster just to punch yeonjun in his face brutally. he stumbled back holding his lip that was now leaking blood. “who the fuck do you think she is?!”. 

he grabs him by the collar of his shirt and throws him against the cabin wall forcefully. he glares over at beomgyu, “I suggest you get the fuck out of here before I beat your ass too”. he mutters looking him coldly in his eyes. beomgyu did as he were told, not wanting any part in whatever was about to take place. 

“what the fuck did you do with her?”. soobin breathes with his nerves racing up a wall. he wanted yeonjun dead. “I kiss--”. 

interrupting his sentence was soobin’s other fist punching him in his eye until he stumbled his way to the ground. yeonjun uses his hands to try and get soobin off of him. soobin was aggressively punching him on every open spot of his face he saw. yeonjun’s face ached and he felt his nose overflow with blood. the both of them were breathing hard with their breath becoming nothing but frost in the wintry air. 

“this whole time I’m thinking you’re my real fucking friend! and you were plotting to fuck my girlfriend for money?”. soobin punches him in his jaw and watches him double over. 

“have you lost your everlasting fucking mind?!”. he screams once more before wrapping his hands around his neck squeezing it as hard as he possibly could. yeonjun could feel himself grow weaker but he wouldn’t let soobin have the last hit. hell no. 

he reaches his hand up and punches soobin in his jaw, making soobin sit back a bit, enough to make yeonjun come back and hit him again. “you silly bitch. she wanted me anyways”. yeonjun smirks in a way that sparked a bigger flame in soobin . soobin clenches his jaw and jumps on yeonjun prior to clutching the boys’ neck and beating him in face with his fist nonstop. he didn’t care how much blood got on his hand, he didn’t care how much yeonjun was yelping. 

“fuck you bitch! fuck you! she’s mine!”. 

the only people that were able to stop soobin were five random guys seeing how desperate yeonjun was for air and room to breathe. it was a struggling task trying to pry soobin off of yeonjun but they did so successfully. 

“let me go I’m going to kill that son of a bitch!”. soobin screams. one other guy was helping yeonjun up trying to get him to a nearby clinic to get him cleaned up. yeonjun spit his blood into the snow, painting it bright red. he glares at soobin with swollen eyes before he was staggering away. 

soobin was wrestling with the numerous guys that were drawing him back. “i’m going to kill him!!”. 

“listen, calm down. alright? if you don’t we’re going to have to call the police. you can’t do that out here”. 

they worked with him until soobin was at least slightly in his right mind. if he ran into yeonjun again he knew he wouldn’t be. soobin pushes his back against the wall with his eyes tearing up at the thought of you. he missed you so much and he just couldn’t take it any longer. 

he knew what cabin you stayed in so it was easy to find it. taehyun was busy playing video games with his other friend for a bit so it was up to kai to answer the door. soobin asks if you were here and kai nodded. 

“are you her boyfriend?”. he asks. 

“yes just let me in”. kai shrugs and pushes the door open for him. “I was on my way to a video game tournament anyways”. he dorkily states and leaving shortly after.  soobin exhales as he made his way upstairs and down the hallway. he knew where your room was considering the fact that kai and taehyun left their bedroom doors open.  

he knocks. you’d just gotten out of the shower trying to dry your hair and calm yourself from whatever that episode was at the hot tub. when you heard the knock at your door you assumed it was taehyun or kai. you wrap a towel around your body and open it. you were immediately greeted by soobin’s lips pressing against yours soft and passionately, just how you liked it. you missed them dearly. his scent, his embrace, his hands, you couldn’t stop yourself. 

soobin lets his tongue wander your mouth while he picks you up and let your back lay against the wall. your legs were wrapped around his waist. his lips suck yours savoring each touch. he waited until you both needed air to press his forehead against yours. 

“princess I’m so sorry”. he breathes. “I don’t deserve a woman like you I really don’t and that’s why I want you so much”. 

you could feel the sincerity in his eyes. you couldn’t find words to give back to him, so you cup his cheek instead pressing your lips on his once more. you let your lips slide down to his neck and you suck gently before biting it softly, just how he taught you. soobin’s breathing patterns shift and he’s relishing the way your lips felt on his neck at a needed time such as this. 

while you were sucking his neck and carries you to your bed and lay you down comfortably. you make an effort to reach your lips up to his skin and nip it lightly. “I tried to turn myself in and they said the case was c-closed”, he breathed with a small groan. 

“I even offered to p-pay for mia’s medical bills and she’ll be starting therapy soon”. he breathes again with another groan. you tug on his waistband of his sweatpants. he slides them off in one go. 

he decides to kiss along the coast of your jawline instead and you let him. the lower he went the lower you dropped your towel. soobin’s lips were now curling around your hardened nipples and he was compassionate with the way he sucks them, not wanting to hurt you in any way. you weren’t hurt at all though, instead you let your shaky moans get the best of you. he flat tongued his way down your breasts to your pussy, kissing the lips faintly. you flinch. he’s gripping your thighs and lapping your clit up with his tongue obediently and you felt as if you were seeing stars. your heart races. he swirls his tongue around your wet folds and even spits to make sure you were soaking. you felt yourself throbbing at the feeling of his tongue on you again and you regretted ever leaving it.

his lips were sopping against your neck again and you felt his hard on through his briefs. desperate for friction you began to grind your hips against it, now tugging at the waistband of his boxer briefs. 

“p-please soobin”. you whine which took him by surprise. “you sure?”. he questions and you nod with need. “do you have a condom?”. 

“we don’t need one. I’m clean”. 

“soobin”. “I swear. plus it won’t feel good for you like that anyway. I’ll pull out”. 

“you promise?”. 

“I promise. hold on”. soobin assures while he was aligning himself with your hole. “it’s going to hurt a little alright? but it will hurt worse if you tense up. try to relax yourself”. 

you did as you were told and try your best not to think about it. soobin kisses your cheeks and you gasp feeling his length sluggishly fill you to the brim. you feel a small pain, “soobin wait”. you utter. he slides it out, “it gets better with repitition”. 

you winced for the first two times he bucked his hips into you but your world flipped upside down with the third. your breathing hitched and you felt the pleasure sprint through your veins. 

his lips are ghosting yours and he relished your small moans vibrating his mouth. he tongue kisses you and fucks into you a bit harder now seeing that you were enjoying it. he groans lowly and clenches his jaw at how tight you were. 

“shit”. he mutters while you were moaning nonstop beneath him. you never knew something could feel this good. you bit your lips. 

“ssoobin oh my god”. you whimpered. “you’re taking me so well princess”. soobin whispers in between breaths. he fucked you to his heart’s desire until his felt his dick anxiously throbbing inside you. “flip over”. he demanded. you did as you were told. 

“arch your back for me”. 

you did your best and propped your ass in the air for him desperately wanting him back inside you again. he slaps your ass. “good girl”. he pushes himself in again and you were on cloud nine at this angle. soobin grips the top of the headboard and gradually begans pounding into you. your stomach churned and you went insane with the way he was making you feel. the sweet sounds of your cries and the slapping of your skin against his filled the atmosphere of the room. you were gasping at a fast pace. 

“fuck you’re so wet”. soobin growled. you bit into the pillow in front of you trying to keep from moaning too loud. you could only do it for so long. once soobin went deeper into you you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. you bit your lips until you were able to get a sound from your lips. 

“f-f-fuck!”. you groan to soobin’s surprise. he’d never heard you curse before. but in that moment you didn’t care what you said. you were way to blinded by euphoria to care about anything. soobin was drilling you and the headboard was beating the wall dangerously fast. 

“you’re so sexy beneath me like this”. soobin compliments, smacking your ass. 

“s-s-oobin i’m going to cum!”. you whine clutching the bed sheets. 

“cum for me princess”. he groans and continues his thrusts until your body tensed and your juices was dripping down your thighs. he pulls out as promised and let’s himself release on the towel beneath you both. 

“shit”. he breathed collapsing on top of you. the both of you were out of breath but soobin didn’t use that excuse. he kisses the back of your neck and makes a trail to your lips. 

“I love you”. 

your heart flutters at the words he never said before. 

“I love you too”.

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉ 

time lapse;

you comb gently through her silky curly strands. she laid across your lap giggling at the tv. her small face was so beautiful, soobin’s eyes with your lips and his smile. 

“mommy look! mommy look at the giant bunny!”. she giggles. you smile playfully, “you want to know who else is a big giant bunny?”.

and almost as if he were right on cue your husband is sprinting in the room with you guys’ son on his back, your daughter’s twin, pretending to be an airplane. “guess who just finished bath time!”. he announces obnoxiously. your son giggles holding onto soobin’s neck for dear life. now your son, that was all you. your face, your smile. one thing he did get from his father though was his personality. 

soobin landed him on the bed dramatically before tickling him and kissing his cheeks. 

“hey stop! you guys are going to make mommy mess up my hair”. your daughter whines. 

“stop being such a baby”. your son replies. 

“you stop being stupid!”. 

“guys, guys, no let’s be nice”. soobin interjects while sitting your son on his lap. 

“daddy I have a question”. he mumbles. 

“what is it?”. 

“how did you meet mommy?”. he asks. 

the both of you glare at each other deciding if whether or not you should tell him.