#cause yes hate to break it but miles family is real

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Not a Wanda stan trying to compare her actions in Multiverse of Madness to Miles in Across the Spiderverse, acting like we shouldn’t hate Wanda just cause we support Miles. 

[leclerc-s]

track two - 'cause i knew too much, there was danger

series masterlist

WINTER BREAK 2022

liked by maxverstappen1, alex_albon, logansargeant and others

ines_sainz a little winter break dump for those of you who are not thriving during the off season, like me. featuring a photo max took on my phone

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alex_albon he's going to kill you for getting a new cat.

ines_sainz he'll get over it alex_albon that's a big fat lie

user01 she spent the break in like three different places.

ines_sainz we broke into seb's home. we're having withdrawals user02 she's so real for that

user03 she's acting as if she isn't getting slandered in the spanish media right now.

user04 if it's not true she shouldn't care user05 knowing the sainz family, her excluded, they're probably lying

fernandoalo_oficial nano is a very good cat.

ines_sainz [redacted] would argue otherwise because he hid his left shoe from him yesterday.

maxverstappen1 YOU SAID YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO POST THAT PICTURE!

ines_sainz AND YOU SAID HE WAS NEVER GOING TO FIND OUT ABOUT 2017!

logansargeant i can't wait to meet the new kitty.

ines_sainz and honey can't wait to meet you!

patriciooward i'm committing crimes for your kitty

ines_sainz i would too o'ward, you're not special

user06 your honor, i love her.

georgerussell63 there is not a single thought behind that kitty's eyes. seems like it's father.

ines_sainz you are so lucky he can't comment on here. your ass is cooked in the group chat user07 this is all the confirmation i needed to know that they are gossip girls

ines_sainz posted new stories

not a single thoughts behind those eyes, she takes after her father. babysitting my favorite munchkin 🥰💞 pasta night, but only one of us is allowed to cook without supervision (hint, it's not me who needs supervision)

oscarpiastri replied to your story

oscarpiastri i can't tell if you're insulting me or charles ines_sainz it's actually both of you, you've both got that thousand mile stare down. oscarpiastri i actually hate you right now. ines_sainz love you too amor!

maxverstappen1 replied to your story

maxverstappen1 thanks again for watching her ines_sainz of course! she's a sweet kid, i'll gladly watch her again!

fernandoalo_oficial replied to your story

fernandoalo_oficial los tres ocupan supervisión. [the three of you need supervision] ines_sainz no es cierto! charles ocupa supervision, ocasionalmente oscar, pero yo nunca! [that's not true! charles needs supervision, occasionally oscar, put never me!] ines_sainz yo aprendí a cocinar desde pequeña! [i learned how to cook since i was a kid!] fernandoalo_oficial 🤓☝️ ines_sainz who taught you that?!

jensonbutton replied to your story

jensonbutton so now that you're not racing, you're babysitting? ines_sainz excuse me while i go scream in a pillow ines_sainz THE jenson button knows who I am?? jensonbutton kid, i've known you since 2015 when you used to barge into fernando's garage. i've also got a proposal for you. ines_sainz fire away mr. button, but yes, i'll babysit your kids if you ever need me too. i babysit fernando (please don't tell him i said that)

BAHRAIN 2023

liked by arthur_leclerc, theopouchaire21, liamlawson30 and others

ines_sainz once i fix me, they're gonna miss me (but i won't miss them)

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liamlawson30 how could you possibly go karting without me? do our years of friendship mean nothing to you?

theopouchaire21 OR ME? fredrickvestiofficial OR ME? logansargeant OR ME? arthur_leclerc OR ME? ines_sainz damn, it's almost like you guys miss me or something. liamlawson30 nevermind, go back to rotting with your boyfriend.

maxverstappen1 what's there to fix? you're great the way you are?

ines_sainz aww max, that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me. maxverstappen1 he's holding me at gunpoint ines_sainz fucking liar. i know you like me bitch!

user08 I'M DYING TO KNOW WHO SHE'S DATING!! THE ANXIETY IS KILLING ME!!

user09 same here! but like she'll tell us when she's ready, she's not ready yet. user10 oh god, how i hope it's charles, just to see carlos' blood boil.

user11 SHE'S HAPPY AND IN LOVE!! REJOICE!!

georgerussell63 YOU WENT KARTING? WITHOUT US?

alex_albon gasp, do we, the twitch squad mean nothing to you? ines_sainz it was a date? logansargeant and you think we care?

user12 bro, who ever this guy is, thank you for getting her smile back.

charles_leclerc are you okay? it looks like he's eating your face off?

ines_sainz you're just jealous. your lonely ass wishes you had somebody. charles_leclerc what makes you think i'm single? ines_sainz you're bitching and moaning at 3am. i get that we're neighbors but please stop complaining.

user13 WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE SHADE??

user14 RIGHT?! SHE JUST BLATANTLY SAID SHE'S DOING BETTER THAN BEFORE?! SHE NEVER NEEDED THEM!! user15 SHE NEVER NEEDED THEM THEY NEEDED HER!! comment liked by ines_sainz

user16 listen, i know she isn't talking to carlos, we're all aware of this, but one would think he would use the comments to annoy her

user17 no cause i was wondering, why isn't carlos being a nuisance in her comments? ines_sainz other than the fact that our mother doesn't want him to make a 🤡 of the family name. i blocked him 💀. i don't need that negativity in my instagram comments user16 ICON!!! user18 it's too late to not make a 🤡 of the family name. no one takes them seriously anymore. they did this shit all on their own. ines_sainz amen to that sister

ines_sainz posted new stories

first day on the job, kinda nervous (jokes, not really) i've only waited since qatar 2021 to see father back on the podium couldn't be prouder of this silly old man 💚

JEDDAH 2023

¡taglist!

@minmira95 @lesliiieeeee @vroomvroommuppett @prongsvault @justtprachisblog @scuderiadevils @cataf1 @chezmardybum @formulaal @lilsiz @norstappenvibes @ironspdy @nikfigueiredo @hinamesgigantica @niniluvsainz @matchaverse @fakeikeastore @theseus-jpg @six-call @81folklore @emppusofi @luvsforme @nichmeddar @loloekie @luvpedro @donttouchthegnote @nothaqks @inferiusreggie @mochimommy2002 @rach3164 @clove08 @clove0 @lillysbigwilly @landonorizzz @jenxjar @blupblupfish @thereadinggremlin05 @meowiarty @magical-spit @camdensreg @laneyspaulding19 @ocyeanicc @yelenasloverrrrr @percervall @blushmimi @spilled-coffee-cup @moldyshorts1997 @michelleyw81

¡not taggable!

@ashlovestoread1411 @books-thingys-andstuff @nothanqks @yeanoskrrt @ale-522 @aandreea_2005 @Katness1 @mgmoore @Scott-McCall-could-lift-mjolnir @Greantii @xxx-betty @ietss @ririyulife

¡leclerc-s speaks!

violence is always the answer with this friend group. i won't be talking about every single race of the season 2023 season because that's just boring. we all know how the season ended anyways 💀 know the inés as a reporter was only done to terrorize d*nica, it's not permanent, i have plans. jenson and inés are about to form the hate d*nica club.

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[heartcereql]

shades of cool

୨୧ young!coriolanus snow x f!reader ୨୧ IN WICH Coriolanus is the person you've grown to hate and compete against. But when you and him have to work together to achieve what you want, the tables start to turn. (6.2k+ words) ୨୧ cw: cursing, a LOT of tension (yall r going to hate me for the cockblocking), probably ooc snow (acting like he's a sweetheart and not a psycho lollll), like one mention of blood?

a/n: snow lands on top (of me pls)

There were only two things that you completely and utterly despised: breaking your favorite nail and the voice of Coriolanus Snow.

"Y/n!"

You made no sign whatsoever to acknowledge the man following your across the crowd of burgundy uniforms. You just clutched your books tighter and quickened your pace.

"Hey, Y/n- wait up!" he called again.

Sighing, you stopped in your tracks and turned around to see a platinum blond running in your direction. The usual shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You put on your best effort to suppress the eye roll that was begging to be released.

"Yes?" you asked, unamused.

"I was just wondering- you seemed kind of distracted in class today." His words were sugary, almost enough to trick anyone into thinking he was truly concerned. But not you though. You had learn to identify the glint in his eyes from a mile away. "Well, just in cas you missed this-"

Before you knew it, you had an A+ graded exam shoved in your face. Making a face of disgust, you scrambled away to look at his face, expression filled with pride.

"That's great, Coriolanus, real great. Would be even greater if I had asked", you scowled, turning away while Coriolanus scoffed behind you, quickly catching up with you again as you resumed your way out.

"Oh, c'mon, Y/n! You're not the only one who's allowed to brag", he said, nudging your side.

"Clearly not. You do it all the time", you deadpanned.

"Don't be mad 'cause you weren't able to beat me. Again."

The smell of roses was too stuck in your nostrils for your liking. Sweet and inviting, but remembering who it came from made the flowers lose all their charm.

"Also, exercise three's answer was option D," he pointed out, that annoying smirk on his face again.

"What?"

"It was option D, not A."

"How did you even- Nevermind. Option A is the literal definition, care to explain how it is option D?" you argued, rolling your eyes.

"I- A's not the definition!" Coriolanus tried to rebute.

"It is. Try paying attention for once."

"It's not!" He stopped fully, leaning against a wall and opening his bag.

"What are you doing?" you raised a brow at his franctic search. Sometimes you forgot how infuriating he was.

"I'm looking for the textbook," he replied, face almost buried in his bag.

"Unbelievable," you scoffed, turning around. "You really are unfixable, Snow."

Walking away from the mess of papers he had made around him, you could hear him protest.

"Hey, don't go! I'm finding the page!"

You shook your head. The exasperation in his voice was like music to your ears.

You knew who you wanted to be from a very young age. You knew exactly what you wanted and what you had to do to achieve it. You wanted everything.

Top of your class since you were five. Student of the month every month. Class president. Winning every single award that could be won by a child under twelve years old.

You wanted to take everything from a life that had given you nothing. Like a phoenix, your mother used to say, risen from the ashes to burn in the most blazing fire. With little to no resources, your family had incredibly made it work so that they could afford a small apartment in the Capitol (if you dared call the cubicle that your family shared a house). But your family had made it. And so had you, child prodigy, wanting to rescue your poor parents and sister. Specially when your mom's frequent coughing developed into something far more serious.

You were unstoppable. Nothing in your way. Praise. Applause. Recognition. It was all in the back of your hand.

Until Coriolanus Snow appeared.

He and you were basically the same. Same drive for power, same desire to rescue your family, same overachiever character, same flawless grades. One would think you would get along, being so impossibly similar.

And perhaps you could have. You could've befriended him and helped each other. If he had not equalled you with such aptitude. Before you knew it, Y/n Y/l/n was never mentioned without Coriolanus Snow. You were no longer the only student to pass with distinction. You weren't the only clear winner, or the only candidate for class president, or weren't so easily distincted class president, for Coriolanus was your vicepresident (something that had never been a thing, that appeared as suddenly as him).

But he was fighting you for your spot. Naturally, you didn't even consider him as a potential friend. He was an obstacle in your way, as you were in his. Soon, you two were always engaged in bantering, cruel comments, trying to bring the other down by showing off your accomplishments and grades and awards and titles.

It was more than safe to say that you and Corolanius held special hatred for each other.

And then came the Plintz Prize. Both of you wanted it with equal burning ache, and gave your very best since the first day. Obviously, you weren't the only students who were interested in winning the prize, but you were the ones ready to sacrifice everything, the ones to always make the most of an opportunity, even if it was minimal.

You were so deeply convinced that you were nothing like the other.

But neither of you was willing to let anything come in your way.

"A new financial aid is going to be gifted."

The words echoed in the room as students hushedly commented, whispered to one another.

"Students will submit a proposal, individually or in pairs. A suggestion with your own design of the Hunger Games. You'll go into detail about every little thing, so that in the end, Dr Gaul will select the project she fancies more to be the winner and receive the financial aid."

You and Coriolanus shared a look from opposite sides of the room.

The prize is mine.

As per usual, you were determined to go for everything. You needed to nail this. That very same afternoon you were sat in front of your desk, scribbling down what was supposed to be the first draft to your proposal project. You'd noted some ideas, but they didn't seem to make sense altogether.

Groaning for the umpteenth time, you got up from the spot you'd been occuppying for the last two hours. Your home was no inspiration, which was why you gathered all your scattered pages and notes and made your way to the Academy's library.

There was a spot you liked there. Your spot, though only you referred to it as that, of course. A comfy chair with a green cushion on the end of a large oak table, between the shelves of Geometry books and medicine articles. Golden rays of sunlight filtered through the large window on spring afternoons, and even in the bleak winter it felt nice to look through it.

Making your way over to your spot, you could almost feel the comfort of the chair, how your thoughts would clear and start to make sense. Eyes half closed anticipating the delight. But you opened them only to find a familiar (and annoying) blond sitting in your corner.

"Move" you said as you finished your way over to him.

"What? No. I'm working. Thinking", Coriolanus answered, unbothered, without looking up from his notes and papers, some scrambled, some with big ink stains.

"I don't care. It's my spot. Move.”

He raised his head to look up at you and stopped writing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise this chair had your name engraved on it,” he pettily remarked.

“Whatever,” you exhaled, plopping down on the seat next to him. “You are such a pain in the ass, you know.”

“Back at you,” he replied, eyes focused on his papers again.

You huffed and reached inside your bag to grab your notes.

Your messily written ideas were mocking you, at this point. If you thought they didn’t make much sense at home, they definitely weren’t making any now. You had so much in mind. And they were great ideas, really. But you couldn’t find a way to connect them, for them to make sense altogether. And you were missing something. Something so essential, something that you couldn’t quite place.

How will the games be watched if they’re held in the middle of a desert? Where will the cameras be?

You scrunched your paper, groaning again and dropping your head to the table.

"Something wrong?"

You lifter your head to find Coriolanus looking at you, carding a hand through his hair.

"None of your business."

"Jesus, chill out Y/n. I was just asking if you were okay.." he spoke, not in his usual bratty tone; he sounded just worried.

Your eyes widened a bit with a mix between embarrassment and shyness.

"I'm just... stressed. I'm stuck on the whole proposal thing, it just won't make any sense. I feel like it's missing something, but I just can't know what," you told him, rubbing your temples.

Coriolanus let out a breathy chuckle, to which you looked at him disbelief.

"I knew you were cruel, but laughing at my miserable state is just-"

"I'm not laughing. I'm relieved," he explained. You looked for any signs of mockery, but his eyes were truthful and soft.

"Relieved?" you frowned.

"Yeah. I-I thought I was the only one having a kind of block," he looked down to his notes and that was when you noticed the messy paragraphs the crossed ideas, the lines and arrows that tried to connect everything.

You gave Coriolanus a tight-lipped smile. He was right. It was somewhat relieving to know that your only real threat was having a hard time like you were.

"Hey, I've got an idea."

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Oh hell no. No idea Coriolanus could want to share with you would turn out great.

"Shoot"

"I think we should partner up for the project," he bluntly said.

"Pardon?" you asked raising your brows. You really thought that you hadn't heard him correctly.

"Yeah, I mean, think about it. We both have a lot of ideas but feel something missing. We-we could help each other out!" Coriolanus clarified, somewhat flustered. "We'd win the prize and split it. Highbottom said the proposal could be submitted by pairs. If we do this together, we'll be unstoppable."

You blinked twice, digesting his words like you couldn't believe they were real.

"I think that's the worst idea I've ever heard."

Coriolanus scoffed. "Right, because you're so well known for your good ideas."

True. Though being a straight A's, perfect student, you had a certain fire inside you that had given you a reckless and flaming reputation.

"I'm in."

You were back in the library the next day, only this time you were sitting in your spot, and Coriolanus was besides you. You had been sitting in silence for the past fifteen minutes, reading the other's anotations and doodles.

When you finished, you leaned back into you seat, stretching your neck and pushing loose strands of hair behind your ears.

"So?" Coriolanus inquired when he noticed you were done. "What do you think?"

"I'm... surprised," you told him, chin resting on your hand as you looked at him. "It's almost identical to mine."

He chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I was noticing. I guess great minds think alike, right?"

"Could be, or you just copied me," you said. Coriolanus sneered and you saw the complains forming behind his lips, so you were quick to clarify. "I was joking, Snow. It seems we're not so different."

"Or you just copied me" he mocked, using your words from earlier.

"You wish," you smile, scoffing in a playful manner.

"Hey, what was it that you were unhappy with about your ideas? Because I think they're pretty great," Coriolanus asked, handing your notes back to you.

"They don't make sense to me. I couldn't come up with a way to connect it all," you shrugged. "Maybe we shouldn't use all of this, I don't know."

The entire day was spent between countless bickering and snacks, you and Coriolanus discussing the project and how insufferable the other was, shielded by the brimful shelves and the hushed conversations between students.

Over the next few days, your begrudging meetings with Coriolanus continued, each session marked by a mixture of tension and reluctant cooperation. The library became your unofficial battleground, the hallowed halls witnessing the clash of two strong-willed minds.

As you both settled into your usual spot once again, there was a palpable air of wariness. However, you couldn't help but notice a subtle change in Coriolanus. He seemed more open to discussion, his usually stoic facade occasionally cracking to reveal a hint of vulnerability. The topics ranged from the project at hand to personal interests, and amidst the disagreements, you discovered shared preferences and surprisingly similar perspectives.

By the first week, a sort of unspoken truce had settled between you. The bickering had mellowed into a more civilized exchange of ideas. Coriolanus, despite his initial resistance, began to respect your opinions and even admitted to finding some merit in your perspectives. You, in turn, acknowledged the sharp intellect beneath his icy exterior. Shared laughter became more frequent, often catching both of you off guard.

Throughout these encounters, the library transformed from a battlefield to a space of reluctant collaboration. Despite the lingering differences, a strange sense of partnership emerged. The once insufferable project discussions turned into an exploration of each other's intellect, and with each passing day, the library witnessed the evolution of an unexpected connection between two seemingly incompatible souls.

Your bag hit the leg of the table as you slipped in your chair, the blond taking the seat next to you. A soft thud was heard, along with something rolling. You were going to duck down to reach it, but Coriolanus was already grabbing it.

"Hey, are these yours?" Coriolanus asked, holding a bottle of pills.

Your eyes widened. Your mom's medicines. You reached inside your bag to check if the bottle you had picked up from the chemist's before school was still there. It wasn't.

"Yeah. Well- my mom's."

He handed the bottle to you, whcih you were quick to put back in your bag.

"Is she okay? Not like it's any of my business, but those pills are like one of the strongest shits ever," he frowned.

Taking a deep breath, you explained, "She's not. She hasn't been for quite a while. And the doctors don't say much, but it isn't looking good."

"I- um, I'm sorry," he stammered, looking down. "If you or her ever need anything, you know you can talk to me, right?"

You nodded, leg bouncing up and down.

"Here," he said, scribbling down something on a ripped piece of paper. "My address. If you ever need it."

"Thank you," you looked into his eyes, words barely a whisper. "I really appreciate it."

His knee bumped yours, like soothing it down, keeping it steady. "Anytime," he smiled.

You gave him an awkward smile, looking away.

The green folder, clutched tightly in your arms, contained the first draft of yours and Coriolanus' design for the Hunger Games. You both were going to introduce it to Dean Highbottom, since you needed to inform him of who formed your team and some other information. Then, he would grant the two of you an interview with Dr. Gaul.

Once, Coriolanus had referred to the folder as 'your baby'. You had given him a blank stare for a second before the two of you broke down in laughter.

Mindlessly turning around a corner, you bumped into someone's shoulder. A pair of arms caught your own, steadying you, keeping you from falling.

"Whoa, sorry-"

The folder. You quickly stepped back, freeing the folder from being crushed any further. Compulsively checking if the folder was okay, you failed to identify the pair of arms that had held you seconds before.

It was okay. Your baby was okay.

"So sorry, I- Coriolanus?" you asked as you finally lifted your gaze. "I thought you were coming by later?"

"Couldn't wait. I was actually looking for you. I just saw Dean Highbottom enter his office. Campus is pretty deserted, so I'd say we could be the first ones."

A soft smile graced his face.

"Shall we then?" you posed the courtsy question playfully.

"We shall"

The two of you made your way to the Dean's office, gushing about the project like two schoolgirls. Grades and rivalry were not brought up once. Perhaps just because you wanted the day to be perfect.

After knocking on Dean Highbottom's door and hearing a 'come in', Coriolanus opened the door and both of you came in.

"Look who it is! Snow and Y/l/n. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes", the Dean greeted you.

Coriolanus and you shared a glance before giving the Dean a polite smile.

"Are you here about the project?"

"We are," you answered, gesturing to the green folder in your hands.

"As in the two of you are submitting the proposal together?" the bearded man asked, raising his eyebrows. When Coriolanus nodded, he let out a chuckle. "I thought I wouldn't live to see the day."

You offered an awkward smile as you and the blond sat in the seats before the Dean's desk. You silently handed him your folder. After opening it and browsing through the various concepts and sketches, Dean Highbottom closed the folder, tapping his figertips against it.

Nervousness gnawed your insides, your leg bouncing up and down in anxiety. You hadn't even noticed this, too caught up into thinking the absolute worst of the situation; until you felt a knee- his knee- press into yours. Suddenly very aware of what was happening outside your mind, you blinked once, as to come back into reality, and then again, swifting your eyes to Coriolanus besides you.

For a moment, just a moment, you saw only a pair of eyes that guaranteed comfort peering into yours, crowned by the softests of golden curls. And then you saw the snarky comments, the whole usurping-your-place scheme, the perfect grades and the annoyingly pitched voice. The smile froze on your lips. Fuck.

"So," the Dean's voice broke the silence. "Are you two dating yet? Because it would really benefit you"

Both your head and his snapped into the Dean's direction.

"Pardon?!"

"What?"

Two pairs of eyes now looked wide and with a mix of disbelief and annoyance at the Dean.

"I take it you're not." No shit.

You were still too astounded to speak. What did he mean yet? He was your proffesor. He should, must, know that everything between the two of you is rivalry. Right?

"What, um, what did you mean it would benefit us?" Coriolanus asked, his voice as thin as thread.

"Well I eyed your proposal. And it's good. More than good. It has a lot of potential. But Volumnia Gaul loves one thing more than her creations. Gossip. Drama. If she hears the two of you are dating, she'll make you the Capitol's power couple. She'll give you a story. You will become her favourites. If you want to win at all costs, I'm just giving you a shortcut." He stared at the pair in front of him."But, overall, you've done a great work. I'll leave you to ponder it and I'll alert you when Dr Gaul is ready to see you."

You nodded, as Coriolanus and you mumbled 'thank you's and 'goodbye's and 'have a nice day's before leaving the office.

Campus wasn't very crowded yet; only a couple of students could be seen lurking around. The morning still preserved its coldness, dew remained on the grass.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you started walking, the blond boy quick to catch up.

You hated how you got caught up in this mess. All because you and him needed help. And because he and you were the only answer to the other's problem.

"Y/n?" Coriolanus spoke softly. "How do you feel... about what the Dean said?"

Sighing, you replied, "I just don't know. I mean, this was all crazy before but now? I'm confused, I guess."

"Don't you think it can help us even more?" he frowned.

"But we don't need any more help. We joined forces, no one can beat us, there's no need for us to-"

"I know we can do it without Gaul's help. But it’s one thing to win this aid, and another thing to become Gaul’s favourites. Do you realise how many doors she could open for us?” Coriolanus had stopped both of you now, his body blocking your way, hands in your shoulders, eyes fixed on yours.

“C’mon, Y/n, it’s just pretending,” he pleaded. “Plus, we’re in this to help each other out, right?”

A warm smile spread over his lips, one that only encouraged you and painted a smile of your own on your mouth.

“Fine. We’ll do this lunatic shit. Since you’re not able to reach my level without my help,” you teased, moving past him and resuming your way.

“Sure, Y/n. Whatever makes you sleep at night!” you heard Snow shout behind you.

You just gave him the finger, biting back a smile as you walked away.

The news spread like wildfire through the campus. The dean's offhand comment had ignited a storm of speculation and gossip. As you navigated through the university halls, it was impossible to ignore the curious glances and hushed conversations that followed you.

The library, once your sanctuary of academic warfare, now became the epicenter of buzzing rumors. Students stole glances at you and Coriolanus, whispering behind cupped hands as you pretended not to notice. The atmosphere had shifted, and your every move seemed to be scrutinized under an invisible magnifying glass.

Your next meeting at the library felt different. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the weight of the rumors hung in the room. As you both delved into your project, the tension was palpable. Every accidental touch or shared smile now carried an added layer of significance.

By the third week, the rumors had taken a life of their own. The once reluctant collaboration now felt like an uncomfortable alliance, forged not just for academic success but to navigate the newfound attention. Your life, once a sheltering and private, now felt like a fishbowl.

The doors that led to Gaul's lab appeared impossibly big. You let out a shaky breath, one you didn't know you were holding. Bouncing your leg usually was how you showed your nerves, but, since you were standing, you settled with just a trembling pinky finger.

Cold fingers were wrapping around your hand before you knew it.

"What are you doing?" you turned to Coriolanus.

"Gaul's no fool. We have to put on our best efforts to make her believe we are together. You have to help, too. And your hands were shaking," he shrugged.

Taking a deep breath, you swallowed his words and leaned further into his arm, clinging to him like a good girlfriend would.

As if on cue, the door swung open, revealing brown and blue eyes shooting a daring look. The woman’s face was instantly lit up with a smirk.

“Coriolanus Snow and Y/n Y/l/n. The sweethearts Dean Highbottom has told me so much about,” Volumnia Gaul greeted the both of you. “Please, come inside.”

She stepped aside to let you in. The ceiling seemed to be miles away from the floor. White, ivory columns welcomed you, glass cabinets displaying all sorts of weird creatures and experiments.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Gaul commented behind you.

There was just something so... unsettling about her, something you couldn't quite place but that was ticking you off

It's for the better.

That had been your mantra for the past few days. The end justifies the means. You kept telling yourself that you didn't want this, that you were only doing this for convinience. But lately you hadn't really been feeling that way. Not when you were sitting right next to him, laughing mere seconds ago, his eyes staring into yours, not trying to intimidate you but more in an attentive way.

He thought you looked so delicate and alluring. You did often, as of late. There were a few stray strands of hair that hid your dashing smile from Coriolanus. A smile he had so recently grown so fond of.

He just couldn't resist the urge to tuck them behind your ear; his fingers a soft caress against your skin. And so he did.

His touch was feather-like, as if you were a porcelain doll that was about to break. At the sudden contact, you shifted your gaze from the papers on the table to look at him. And, god, you almost wish you hadn’t. Because he looked otherworldly just sitting there besides you, hand behind your ear, lips parted slightly, dangerously close to you.

“Your hair was getting in your eye,” he mumbled.

The proximity was going to kill you. He was invading all of your senses. And you hated it. You hated it because this wasn’t even real. It was just supposed to help you with Gaul, nothing more. You hated it because it didn’t feel that way. You hated it because this was not the Coriolanus you knew; not the Coriolanus you chose to know.

“Thanks,” you breathed.

You were scared. As pure and simple as that. This was uncharted territory for you; you had never seen this part of him. It frightened you because you were losing control over your emotions.

"Coryo..."

He was convinced you were goingo to give into his desires. You were convinced for a moment, too. But then it occurred to you that this wasn't supposed to be real. That whatever you had between you both was just a scheme. That he was just joking.

"What did you score on the last biology exam?"

You mentally cursed yourself as soon as the words left your mouth. You felt yourself involuntarily slipping away from his touch.

“100%,” he responded, frowning. “Why?”

“Guess all these time around me wasn’t enough. I got 102%,” you smiled, trying to sound (hoping to sound) less awkward than you sounded in your head.

“How’s that even possible? I thought there were no extra exercises.”

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat before continuing. “I detailed every answer more than it was needed, so.”

“Oh. Well, congrats.” His lips were pressed into a thin line that he tried to transform into a smile, but ended up just contorting his face.

You looked at the papers before you, laying in a mess on the table, surrounded by pencils, sticky notes and highlighters. Then your eyes peered at the window besides your spot. The sun was setting behind the Capitol’s skyline, painting golden and rosy hues over the library. It was getting late.

“I- I think I should go. I’d better go home before it darkens.”

Coriolanus nodded. "Cool. I'm gonna get going too."

You bit your lip as you stood up, gathering your work. Not another word was uttered until you noticed the librarian peering over at you from behind some shelves, and students at the end of the aisle were turning their heads to you.

Perks of being Gaul’s favourite couple, you supposed.

You leaned to Coriolanus’ level again, pulling him into a side hug as you whispered in his ear.

“They’re looking.”

And then, you pressed a kiss to his forehead and walked out.

Too overwhelmed thinking about that moment with Coriolanus, you missed the way his eyes stayed on you until you left the library, and the way his fingers lingered on the part of his forehead that had been in touch with your lips.

The thought of him plagued your mind as you made your way home. Not even the biting cold of the evening could take the warmth spreading over your cheeks. What was going on with you? He was the guy you hated, you used to hate, the one that was trying to take over your spot.

But your attempts to convince yourself were vain. Because you no longer felt raging hate when you thought of Coriolanus. You couldn't excatly pin what it was, but it was definitely not hatred.

Reaching inside you bag for the key of your family apartment, you sighed, as if that was going to clear and sort out your messy feelings. Yet you didn't even need to open the door, for it was opened swiftly in front of you.

"Y/n!" your father pulled you in. The frown between his brows, the worry reflected in his eyes, the way he held you. Something was not right.

"Dad, what's wrong? I-"

"It's your mom, she- she started to cough so much blood. She's unconscious now, I- I was just about to take her to the hospital."

"Oh my God." Tears stung in your eyes. You knew she was bad, worse than she'd ever been, but this was far from what the doctors had informed you about. "Shit, where's Deena?"

"Your sister's staying over at a friend's. Is there anyone who can take you for the night? Someone who knew about your mother, if it makes you more comfortable?" he asked, rubbing your arm.

Coriolanus. You hated that he was the first person to come to mind, but the truth was thas this project had swept you up from practically every other aspect of your life. You hadn't seen your best friends much, since they were also focused on their projects. Most of your time had been spent with Coriolanus. And you didn't know how to feel about that. Disgusted, you supposed. But that didn't quite match the tugging in your chest whenever you met him at the library, or the calmness that took over you when his knee pressed into your anxiously bouncing one.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so," you nodded, blinking the tears away, though they slid down your cheeks anyway.

"Good. I don't think it'd be good for you to be alone right now."

You hurriedly packed your essentIals and some extra clothes, making your way to the door. You held it open for your dad as he carried your mother.

"I'll see you soon. Be safe, Y/n," he whispered.

"You too, Dad."

You tried your hardest not to break down as you saw your father making his way to the doctor's with your mom in his arms.

But once he was out of sight, you rushed out of the filthy apartment building. As you ran through the Capitol's streets, you remembered the now wrinkled paper that he had written his address on.

"Here. My address. If you ever need it."

It sat scrunched in your coat's pocket. You kept running as your trembling hands unfolded it, and quickened your pace once you'd read the address.

You arrived at his door short of breath, cheeks reddened from the effort, tears dried from the wind. Your knuckles softly knocked at his door.

Mess. You felt like a mess. Everything you had known to this day seemed to have completely flipped around, changing everything all of a sudden. Your mind was a tangled, impossible knot of thoughts and feelings and emotions that were constantly contradicting each other.

A blonde girl opened the front door. To your blurry eyes, she looked like an angel.

"Can I help you?" she kindly prompted, a concerned frown appearing in between her brows.

"Yeah- I'm looking for Coriolanus?" you said, voice on the point of breaking.

"Come in, he'll be right here," the woman spoke, stepping aside so you could come in and closing the door right after. She sat you down on an armchair, her touch gentle and tender. "Coryo! Someone's here for you."

As soon as the words left her mouth, you heard footsteps tumbling down the hallway and into the entrance. The instant his eyes met yours, he put everything else aside. His sole focus was you. The red around your eyes, eyelashes glinting from the recent caress of tears, shaky hands, bottom lip between your teeth, and your leg bouncing up and down almost uncontrollably.

He wanted to hold you forever. Take you in his arms like you were a fragile flower, yet the most fierce of them all. Rivalry long forgotten and buried, mean comments and hurtful offenses forgiven without a second thought. He saw Y/n. Not perfect grades, not snarky remarks, not an opponent. Just Y/n. Sweet, sweet, Y/n.

And you didn't see Coriolanus Snow. The blond standing in front of you now was not the one you'd been fighting for the better part of your teenage years, even before. He was not the one competing against you. Who was him then, if not the Coriolanus Snow you had known all your life?

Coryo.

"Y/n, hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked, voice surprisingly soft, even for his cousin. He crouched down, placing a cold, calming hand on your fidgety leg.

You could feel the tears welling up again, because he was there for you.

“I… I’m going to head out,” the woman said. “I’ll be back in a while.”

Coriolanus muttered a goodbye and then she was gone. And as soon as she was, you broke down.

Burying your head in your hands, tears burnt past your eyes, flowing now freely. All that could be heard were your heavy, shaky breaths. His hand on your back, tracing small circles, made you pull your head up.

Fuck, why were you even here?

"Y/n?"

"It's my mom." You tried to dry your cheeks, only for tears to fall down again. "She-she lost consciousness. The doctors didn't even say she was that bad. And I.. I just arrived there and there was nothing I could do-" your voice broke before you could finish the sentence.

He instantly pulled you into a hug, your head hidden in the crook of his neck, arms around it. One of his hands was wrapped around your torso, safely drawing you to him, while the other was tangled in your hair.

"I am so, so, sorry," he whispered, breath tickling your ear. You only clinged to him tighter; the only thing on your mind other than your mother right then was how warm and guarded you felt in his arms.

When you finally retracted to look at him, you found your body almost leaning into him again, yearning for his embrace. You inhaled sharply.

"I'm by your side no matter what, okay?" he assured you, eyes piercing yours, hands sliding up your figure to cup your face. "I'm here for you."

You did your best to gather yourself and nod at his words. But then you felt him pulling away in the slightest. No. You wanted him close. You wanted him.

You rose a hand to his neck, fingers dancing along his skin, messing with the blond curls they could reach.

"Hey, Y/n," Coriolanus called out. "She's going to make it. She'll be okay. And so will you."

A knot formed in your throat, the prequel to infinite tears, because who was him and what was he doing to your heart?

Whatever prejudice or thought you had against him was blurrying in your mind. The person he was supposed to represent in your head was further and further from the one barely inches away from you now. And then it hit you. Right then, right there. It didn't scare you. You wanted to know this person. You wanted to give the both of you a second consideration under different lightning.

And so, you closed the gap between Coriolanus and you, as he had tried and wanted so bad to do mere hours before. His lips were warm, contrary to every other part of his body you had ever been in contact with.

For a fraction of second, he hesitated, frozen in his spot, convincing himself that this was happening, that this was real, that you were real. But once he kissed back, he just couldn't let you go.

His hands were suddenly everywhere, exploring your body and drawing you to him as he kissed you, all the desire and passion (and even the resentment, too) poured into the kiss. Coriolanus wanted to make you feel okay. Not just now. But 'now' would have to do as of that moment. And if this was how you wanted the pain to go away, so be it. Fingers digging in your hips made you leave out a mixture of a gasp and a moan, which Coriolanus used to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Everthing he did got you addicted, craving more.

You had both been sitting on the floor, but now you were climbing into his lap, pulling away for the smallest of seconds, but either way Coriolanus was quick to reunite your lips again. Your mouths danced together. Your sking tingled pleasantly under his touch; a constant fire travelling beneath his fingers. But when his hand raised to your cheek, checking for the trace of any new tears. It was simply enough to melt you on the spot.

Tugging at his hair, you angled his face to leave a trace of open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. His groan reverberated through your skin.

The pain was buried somewhere in your mind, but your heart didn’t ache in that moment; he was all your senses were taking in. And you felt safe.

© heartcereql, 2023 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

[dykedvonte]

write post about the tulpar crew working at like waffle house also you opinion on what brand of soap they use

Soap first:

Anya washes with dove bar soap first, cucumber cool moisture. Uses one of the Neutrogena liquid soaps like the brown rain bath. Unscented lotions or balms and a very light perfume, thinking something vanilla like or a shea butter. Over the counter cheap perfume that’s a bit to alcoholish but it suits her in a clinical way.

Curly is like high maintenance shower guy. Started because an ex put him onto it and now it's a routine. Special face soap and exfoliating hand brush, bodywash that is way too expensive but he feels dirty without it. Has like a lot of serums and a body oil lotion combo that he has that makes him smell really nice. All of it is uncommon and you need to go to a specific place to get them. Not excessive but he starts tweaking if he runs out of one mid routine.

Daisuke is just as bad as Curly. His bathroom looks like a bath and bodyworks display front. Has a bath bomb for the day, uses a like honey dew mask and soaks. Long as showers and has a teeth cleaning kit. He stare at 9 and isn’t done until 11. Cherry Blossom lotion you can smell him a miles away before you see his ass.

Jimmy uses either unscented dial or Irish springs. Maybe even like the aqua bars from dollar tree. No towel or luffa or anything just rubs his on his hands then washes with the lather. None descript deodorant, mixes with his smell in a weird way. Is the type to do it all at once in the shower, teeth, hair, nails. It’s like all jacked in a way. Shaves his razor blade rarely but thinks his shave is clean always.

Swansea uses like man scents. Sandalwood and driftwood soaps standard rag. Likes to stand in the water, cold shower guy surprisingly, his wife hates it, she never wants to shower with him. No cologne and uses like Old spice because it reminds him of his youth in a nostalgic way. Smells like old man naturally so he just smells like a freshly reupholstered chair and sweat.

Waffle House time:

Anya is the hostess super good at her job but has issues because the waiter is shit and the kitchen is run worse than dashcon. Has ignored a family to rearrange one stack of menues and trips on the grease stains a lot.

Daisuke is the waiter and bus boy and tends to talk and forget about his tables. Once sat and ate off a customers plate with them, whether they enjoyed the company or not doesn’t matter this is a Waffle House

Curly is the manager and is usually dealing with complaints and files in the office. Has had to facilitate more fights after Jimmy was hired but business has improved subsequently…

You’ll see him crying in a booth but he’s real good at acting normal for the customer. Sits with costumers to and it’s awkward cause he’s way too nice to be there.

Jimmy’s the supervisor and cook. He makes the shittiest food that only tastes good if ur coming in shitfaced at like 2 am. Hears a complaint and comes out grease pan in hand ready to “take criticism”

Swansea works there but what he does is between him and god. Sits in a booth playing solitaire and if you come and ask him for anything he mentions how I he did his time for this shift and he’s on an extended break. Treats the fights like a show and dinner.

They stay open even if they actually reach Waffle House’s huricxan threshold

If Curly or Swansea come in to break up a fight everyone scatters like rats

They all chain smoke and hide it from each other. Only Curly really cares because someone (Jimmy) is smoking in the kitchen. Yes he’s blowing it onto the food.

The crash was Jimmy putting ice in the air fryer and it did hurt Curly but like he’s regularly fine they just put him in the office cause there’s still the hurricane outside

I feel like they are in like West Virginia idk just seems isolated enough. I like the idea this could only happen if they are all southern

The restaurant is infested with many things but the health inspectors can’t rip the B rating off so they just say fuck it

Combined with the soap I think the safest thing to eat at the Waffle House is like ice from the bin but by the time it gets to ur table it likely has like mold spores on it.

[hrodvitnon]

Damn I take a break from reading long posts for like 3 days and missed the Keeta stuff till now. Also YES for the love of all that is holy, give the Titans flaws. Complex characters are best characters.

Keeta trying to change the crawler's repuation that would largely be seen as a naive path, but their family would do their best to support them. However, some would obviously be peeved by this.

I think Kong would absolutely try to wipe them out as a knee-jerk reaction, only for that to be swiftly put down by basically everyone close to him- demanding he quit this tirade lest he end up like Skar (everyone talks about Suko here- but I think more than anyone, Shimo would be extremely anxious about Kong becoming like Skar and would spare no effort to ensure this behavior stops immediately). Even Kong knows when to let up though, I feel, and I doubt he'd try to genuinely escalate unless there's an overstep on Keeta's part. What I think would probably happen is he'd set the very strict boundary of 'no Crawlers in the Hollow Earth'. Problem is: that's their natural habitat, and they'd either be forced to leave or be subject to being hunted by the apes. But- Kong's well within his power to make such a call, his territory is below while Godzilla's is up top. Godzilla, or any Titans under his command, going down there would be seen as blatant encroachment and defiant of the rules Goji himself laid out. If he's allowed to attack Kong whenever he goes up top and ban the apes from seeing the surface, surely he can handle the crawlers being relegated to his territory, right? In Kong's eyes: if he wants this nonsense with the crawlers to continue, he can deal with it in his territory, not mine.

To potentially add another dimension and/or nuance the conversation a bit, I think there's a very real and pretty valid comparison to be drawn between the Skullcrawlers and the MUTOs. Functionally, they share many traits: regarded as an infestation by the greater populous, hated by many, have been known to rapidly overpopulate, and have historically been blights on whatever environment they inhabit. Keeta trying to change the Skullcrawler's reputation in a vacuum would probably be uncontroversial to most (minus Kong), but under the reality of this comparison as well as Godzilla being very strict about what the remaining MUTOs are allowed to do- this would look pretty bad on his part.

Kong would call this blatant hypocrisy, why are the crawlers allowed to congregate, reproduce, start families, etc when the MUTOs doing so is cause for Godzilla to start blasting beams in their direction? He may even spread this sentiment to other kaiju- with the subtle implication that he's showing favoritism to his favorite little birdy toy, as well as his family at large. I can even see some agreeing with this sentiment to an extent, but with differing motivation behind it;

Barb, for example, might hear this and wholeheartedly agree. Why should the Crawlers get this treatment while she's banned from mating or having her own kids? But whereas Kong would see the Crawler Pack disbanded, Barb would only want her privileges to be reconsidered by Godzilla if this is the stance he wants to take on the Crawlers. Dagon may stand with her- but he also may recognize where this path ends and that giving creatures like Crawlers and MUTOs an inch may cause them to take a mile. Tiamat may agree with Barb on the basis that restricting a creature's reproduction is a cruelty, and that both the Crawlers and the MUTOs should be allowed to populate as they see fit. As for someone that may agree with Kong's side of the argument, I think Battra might see this and be more than a little concerned with the long leash that Godzilla's given to a species like the Crawlers- and may kindly remind him and his sister that these things ravage ecosystems and that history has taught them to keep that population under strict control.

For Godzilla's part- I think that, like always, Kong ends up being a mirror that reflects some inconvenient truths back at him. Like mentioned in a previous ask, he could pull Kong to the side maybe after he banished Keeta and the crawlers from the Hollow Earth and give him a pep talk on how this is a cruel ruling and that he risks going down Skar's path if he goes through with it, only for him to clap back with the MUTO talking point and calling him out on his own potential prejudices. They really are the same in this respect, Crawlers were the death of Kong's species just like the MUTOs have historically preyed on Goji's kind. It may even cause him to think 'would I be allowing Keeta this freedom if they were a MUTO?', perhaps even changing his perspective for the better.

Yeps all around! In fact @alteringworldscapes addressed Shimo's take on Kong being in danger of becoming more Skar King-like here (haven't gotten around to it, apologies, all these Keeta asks have been a lot):

So, uh... yeah, Shimo I imagine would leap head-first at the chance to encourage Kong to not be like Skar King.

[medicinemane]

Just reminded of the time I was like 8, and my grandpa was doing what he always did and having a frustrating conversation with people while they were trapped in the car with him, and as a little kid I said to him something like "we need to stop talking about this because you're making me angry"

And he goes "No one can /make/ you angry"... and then was shocked when I got mad at him when he wouldn't drop it

Two things here I see as an adult:

One is that if I had a little kid I was dealing with who voiced their emotions so clearly I'd want to encourage that cause plenty of adults have trouble asking for space to cool down. I'd say "Well we need to talk about this at some point, but we can leave it for now. Thank you for letting me know you need a break from this"

(It's amazing the number of people, especially in that generation, who just HATE the idea of someone stepping out of the room for like 20 minutes to go cool off rather than blow their top, despite that being the right call)

(Also I still find it a real jackass move to have these kinda of conversations in a car where everyone's stuck, but that was intentional on his end. It's not like he was trying to be shitty, but he was obsessive and by god people needed to do things his way and he'd trap you so he could tell you what needed to happen... despite often being a fool. Not stupid, but a fool)

Two... honest to god there's so little you should be needing to discuss with a tiny kid in a way where you need to harass and brow beat them into listening to you

As an adult his behavior was just stupid, why are you making your grandkid be the one to take care of your daughter? You are kinda crazy and have definitely fucked up if you're making little kids shoulder massive responsibility... we're not talking asking them to help vacuum or something, we're talking "hey fix your mom in a way that even a therapist couldn't" and "help pay the bills" and "why aren't you fixing all the problems this family has despite all of them being of other people's making?"

Like no dude, there's no reason for you to be sitting there saying this stuff to a kid you have locked in the car with you going 50 miles an hour

Not only did this stuff not need to be said then and there... it didn't need to be said at all, and you guys were weird for how much you put on a literal child. You literally, explicitly would state how someone that wasn't even 10 should be fixing their mom... nah, like if I ever god forbid had a kid, they have exactly zero responsibility to fix me

What? They're gonna cure my depression? Some little 5 year old is supposed to undo all the systemic issues and internalized shit that makes me want to die pretty much everyday?

You're insane... but... yeah, that's more or less what my grandpa wanted me to do. That and somehow fix the finances despite me being a child and him being a college professor... great fucking plan my dude

Anyway, forget what in redstone made me think about him saying "no one can make you angry" (basically meaning "well it's your fault if you're getting mad just because I'm push push pushing you"), and I felt like mentioning this stuff

He wasn't a bad man, he wasn't stupid, and he did mean well... and yet few bigger fools have ever lived and he went about things in the stupidest ways and literally got the opposite of the results he wanted despite how obvious it was that's how shit would turn out

(Ah yes, simply harass a love of reading into someone, and then get mad at them when they're not reading the book you think they should... well why isn't this child reading? Doesn't add up)

As an adult... I don't hate him, I think we could get along now, but I don't respect him and I think he was a fool

[katsukikitten]

Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

[noritoshiikamo]

worth my time

pairing: noritoshi kamo + fem!oc genre: porn (is fingering enough to call it porn??) without plot ish??? tags//warning: established relationship // slight smut???, fingering, emotional drained reader, reader dated character but then forced into arranged marriage and doubt the whole rs note: unedited, lowercase intended, just me and my nori brainrot dont mind the plotholes and everythingn, its not accurate according to the manga/anime like i just wanna feed myself and i haven't write in ages pls sent some ideas so i can get my lazy brain going, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it  directory: read the first part | second part | third part | bonus

“how long have you known?”

noritoshi shrugged, bringing the cup of tea to his lips. the way he took time to answer her question drove her mad. “noritoshi, how long?” her voice strained. “would it make any difference if i’d known today or 10 years ago?”

her eyes shot wide opened, “10 fucking years?”

a small smile appeared on his lips as he lowered the cup, “hypothetically.” she grabbed one of the pillows from the pile on the bed and threw it to his face, embedded with what little left of her jujutsu power. they have been going on for hours and she was clearly too stubborn to let it go. it was clearly weak; he dodged it with a flick of his wrist switching the pillow’s trajectory. “you’re a fucking asshole,” she gritted through her teeth, falling on bed as wave of anger and sadness crashed through. “you think i wanted an arranged marriage? you think i like having every aspect of my life set since i was a child and scrutinized? i’m a bastard sitting on a throne. unlike you gojou clan, i had it much worst.”

she pulled her hair, fighting the tears that was already streaming down, “it’s not a competition. we are in the same school, i sat next to you for years and you’re telling me you have no idea that i’m your future wife, bullshit!” her eyes flickered as she threw the next close thing within her power’s vicinity; a vase. something hit the vase midway, breaking it into ashes and she watched as a drop of blood stained the floor. he broke it with his power. “you can throw every single thing in this room, y/n, but it doesn’t stop the fact that we are already married.” it was that one sentence that completely broke her. falling on her knees, she let a cry out, clutching on her chest as she cried to her heart’s content. this can’t be happening to me, no, no, no, her mind echoed as she forced herself to surrender to the fact that they are married. it’s not something easy to undo. it pained him to see her like this, but his wife needs to understand that he could do nothing about it. she cried for what seems to be like hours, the sleeves of her yukata wet from the tears and sweat. she fell on the floor to her knees, resting her body against the bed before finally looking up to meet her husband’s eyes. he could see defeat in her tired eyes. “we dated each other,” she sniffled, “was that real or was it just you scouting for your future wife?” her words sound like venom to him “i know you won’t believe me, but it was real. i would still marry you even if the marriage isn’t arranged.” noritoshi stood up, his barefoot echoed on the floor as he walked to his weakened wife. her body was hot, he suspected the skipping (refusing to eat) meals, raging and throwing tantrums after another had put her body in so much stress. he reached for the sash, trying to undo her yukata and she freaked out. grabbing his wrist, she shook her head, “what are you doing?” she asked shakily. “would you listen to me for once? you need a cold shower, you’re burning up, it would help.” she stopped fighting. his tone was a mixed of annoyance and tired. dating him made her realized that noritoshi has a high level of patience; but not right now. letting go of his wrist, she slipped the yukata off her shoulder herself, whined about how she disliked cold shower below her breath. he wore a small smile as he hoisted the naked girl up. it’s a small victory on noritoshi the husband, he’ll savor it for now. 

the girl kneeled on the floor of the shower as noritoshi slowly ran the shower head slowly up her body. her arms wrapped tightly against her chest; she cursed every time the cold water reached new part of her body. ignoring the fact that his yukata was getting wetter, he kneeled behind her and let her rest her back against his chest. with the shower gel, his body froze every time she whined at his touch. something about the way she whined under his touches made him weak. he wants to kiss her stupid face so badly. “it’s cold,” she mumbled, her eyes closed as he ran his palm against her stomach. he pressed a kiss on the side of her face, “better?” he asked as his hand travelled lower. her eyes widened. he continued his kisses, down her jawline and her neck, bruising every spot as his fingers traced a lazy circle on her clit. she moaned out a throaty yes. he continued to whisper sweet nothings into her ears, promises of how he would take care of her, how he’s going to be a perfect husband, how she would be a perfect wife, how they’ll live happily together. she nodded her head in delirium, the pleasure of his fingers had her grinding her back on his crotch and emptying her thoughts. she could barely think straight. “tell me you’re mine,” he commanded, slipping a finger inside, “i can take care of you, baby,” her eyes rolled back, his words were not helping, it was just pure gasoline thrown into a burning fire. “nori, i want to cum,” she muttered, clutching desperate on the now two fingers. she felt his warm breath on the crook where her shoulder meet her neck, his fangs brushing threateningly against the sensitive skin. “open your mouth,” he urged, she whined at the lost feeling of his lips on her neck. she felt something dripping between her lips, his thumb brushing the lower lip. it painted her lips red. it tasted metallic, almost like a blood. it was his. he watched in satisfaction as his blood marking appeared on her right eye. he can control her blood, heightened her senses, throwing her body’s sensitivity off the wall, driving her off the edge with every spot of her body he touches; it sends pleasure twice as much. it wasn’t long until her velvety wall spasmed around his fingers. her body jolted forward; her shaky hands pressed against the wet tile preventing her from falling face first as orgasm washes out. she could barely make any noises, her throat was so dry, she felt like it might bleed.   she won’t deny that the orgasm eased her pain, but she would deny if he dared brought it up; he would not get the pleasure of knowing she enjoyed that.

his palm brushed against her thigh, causing her to look up. he raised his eyebrows in question which she brushed it off with a nod. she grabbed his hand and steadied herself up.

“i’m okay,” she voiced out.

he undressed, continued their shower from square one. they’ve done this before; sharing shower after mission washing blood off each other but this time, it feels different. she sighed at the pleasure, letting her hands rest against his toned chest. we are married, the sentence echoed in her mind as he massaged the shampoo on her head. never ever she thought that this is how she’ll be married. it’s not like she dreamed of a huge wedding. he did throw a small gathering, respecting her boundaries and her anxiety but everything just moved so fast. her parents are dead, her only remaining family is satoru, a distant cousin who finds it a no issue for her to marry her boyfriend. it is not an issue for her to marry noritoshi kamo, she loves him so much, but not like this.   she wished she had more choices in this.   he hummed a song, a habit of his that he caught from his mother, a lullaby his mother always sings. she wanted to hate him so much, for befriending her, making her fall in love with him and then forced her into a marriage. but when she opened her eyes and stared up into his, to see such loving look in his eyes, it weakened her. her heart is a wreck. “why do you do this to me?” she whimpered, slamming her fist into his chest. he refused to answer.

she was tired of his silence.

he turned the shower off, opening the glass door letting waft of cold air out. he left to fetch her towel and she stalked toward the nearby mirror. “how long until the thing wears off?” she asked when she caught a glimpse of herself. she reached to touch the blood marking on her eyes. he wrapped the towel around her body, hugging her from behind and through the foggy mirror, he brushed his thumb on her cheek, whispered something she couldn’t catch as the mark subsided.

“this doesn’t change the fact that i’m mad at you.”

he laughed it off, “i didn’t say it does. you always feel better post orgasm, you know how i know it?” he kissed her temple, eyes burned into hers, “because i dated you.”

her teeth gritted in annoyance.

“you think if i dated you to scout my future wife, i wouldn’t waste my time learning how your body responds to me, the way you yearn for me,” a kiss fell on her neck, “learn how well you control your shikigami and goes through lengths to teach you how to use my bow,” another kiss went up her jaw, “teach you my own blood techniques because god, why jujutsu needs to be such an exclusive thing,” arms went around her waist, “worried sick every single time utahime send you off for a mission, taking care of your wounds, being there to catch your reckless ass,” his breath lingered on her ears, “completely falling in love with you wholeheartedly for 3 years. i’d abandoned my father’s choice. you are arranged to be my wife, on my own accord. i choose you. you weren’t my father’s choice, but even in million years, even if sukuna’s vessel reincarnated again and again, even if the world split open and sent you miles away, even if i’m not the head of kamo clan,” his hand grabbed her chin, hard and forced her to meet his eyes, his words send shivers down her spine, “i would still choose you.”

she’s completely putty in his hand. she let out a soft whine as his body abandoned her, his warmth gone and came the cold biting her bare skin. her eyes followed the back of the man as he stalked to the wardrobe leaving the girl alone to ponder on his words.

“now, wouldn’t it just be a waste of my time, my wife?”

[squishneedsahero]

Maybe It Isn’t all Bad

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 2 of 13

Word Count: 1714

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

It had been two months since you published your book, and it had taken off. Tons of people loved it and even more had read it. Because of this you were suddenly a popular public figure of Gotham, and of course like all other public figures you were invited to one of the many galas that happen in this city. You hated it. You, y/n l/n the nobody who lived in a shabby apartment and just happened to get lucky with your book. What you wouldn't give to go back to being a nobody so you could spend your Friday night watching Netflix alone on your couch.

Unfortunately you weren't sure how the snobby rich people,who thought they were better than everyone else, would take you rejecting their invitation the first of probably many. But this was a charity gala hosted by Bruce Wayne: play boy, billionaire, and one of the few people present that seems somewhat genuine even if you didn't think he had a single thought behind his eyes. So maybe it wasn't all bad cause all the rich people were donating to charity and Bruce usually made sure the money went somewhere good.

You had worn an elegant gown, preferring it to the ones that let your ass hang out the bottom. The dress was fabulously elegant and made you feel like a queen. You had paired it with your your highest high heels, stilettos that you could stab someone with if it came down to it. So far the night had been filled with pointless conversations and lots and lots of introductions, all while dancing a waltz.

Lets be honest you won't remember most of the new people you had met, you could've met the Queen of England and not have known it. You didn't remember not because you had been drinking, even if you had thought about it many times, but because there were so many people that wanted to get you and your new found popularity under their thumb and gain through you.

You had finally gotten a break by standing by the buffet table and eating the food they seemed to be letting go to waste. If nothing else you would singlehandedly make sure the food didn't get wasted. You kept trying to think of an excuse to go home, but so far couldn't think of anything. Your planning was interrupted when yet another person came up to you, except his face is somewhat familiar. "Hi," you say after you hurriedly swallow a bite of food.

"Hello, Miss (y/n) (l/n)," he begins, knowing your name but you not knowing his, "may I have this dance?" He asks, great another dance luckily you were used to being on your feet thanks to waitressing otherwise you'd be worried about them falling off with all this meaningless dancing. Why couldn't rich people be more fun with their dancing, most of them were white, playing some pop songs, and the Cupid Shuffle could only make things better.

"Yes, Mister..." you pause as you try to place him, you know you know him but you'd seen so many faces like that tonight that it was a blur.

"Wayne," He finishes for you.

"I'd love to dance with you Mr.Wayne," you lie through that smile that was plastered to your face. You offer your hand and wish desperately you had taken your chance to escape when you'd had it only moments before.

He takes the hand you offer to him and leads you out to the dance floor, waltzing yet again, at least you didn't have to lead cause you had no idea what you were doing. "My son read your book," he begins, trying to start up a friendly conversation, "he's keeps trying to convince me to read it."

"That's nice," you respond awkwardly, what were you supposed to do? Try to convince him to read it too? Hell no, you are not going to act like an airhead and promote yourself.

"He doesn't know that I've already read it," Bruce says. You laugh before you can stop yourself, you almost apologize but he laughs as well. "I enjoyed reading it, it was very well written." Maybe he did actually have real thoughts in his head unlike how the media portrayed him.

"Thank you," you say a slight blush making is way onto your cheeks. He was quite attractive after all and here he was complimenting you. The smile on your lips becomes more genuine as the two of you continue dancing, making light conversation, and surprisingly it was quite enjoyable.

Before you know it the party is over. And you'd spent almost half of it dancing with one man. "Thank you for the dance."

"It was my pleasure," he says, and you find yourself blushing for the millionth time that night. Maybe these parties weren't all bad, you'd found a friend you could have intelligent conversations with after all.

You find yourself invited to almost every gala that happens in the city over the next few months and every time Bruce is there the two of you spend most of the time dancing and talking with each other. The conversations between the two of you are pleasant, covering many topics, and most importantly they aren't meaningless like all the other conversations you were forced into at galas.

Bruce would get your opinion on things such as how the money he got for charity should be spent since you had been more recently living among the people he was trying to help. Like you weren't bad off by any means but you hadn't owned a car, relying on bus routes to get around the city and working 40+ hours a week to keep your head above water. You had been better off than many in Gotham but you had been closer to the poverty than Bruce had, even considering his night job. The fact that he genuinely cared and wanted your opinion amazed you. He was the first and probably only friend you made among the one percent at those parties.

Of course the two of you didn't only talk business, other more casual subjects came up. The two of you bonding over having dead parents, even if he was more traumatized and your wounds more recent. Then talking about school and how you had decided to skip college in order to pursue writing while he had been homeschooled then traveled the world instead of college, not that either of you were too old for college though. He was was 23-24, still young despite having adopted an 8 almost 9 year old and you were close to the same age as him.

The both of you being young, and single, did lead the two of you to have more than a friendship but that was after nearly a year of just talking at galas. Okay a year of just talking was a lie. It was probably only six months before the two of you found yourselves out in a garden and shared your first kiss. But it was an entire year before he finally asked you out, claiming it was a dare from Dick and to ease the pressure of the press.

You of course called him on those lies and pointed out the fact that there had not been a single other woman in his life since the two of you met. And said the only way you'd go out with him was if he'd, "just admit you like me." Needless to say he did.

That was part of the reason that he was so attracted to you. Despite what he knew about you from the one day he saved you from Joker, you were just unafraid to be yourself. You had never pretended or tried to pretend to fit in at the galas. You'd never been afraid to call him on his shit, even if it had risked your one friendship that made those galas bearable.

To your surprise when you had called him a dumbass for thinking it was acceptable to give a 9 year old unlimited access to the internet he laughed and said you were probably right. Then for some reason he thought it was a good idea to ask you for parenting advice and you told him that was a worse idea. You had less of an idea how to be a parent than he did, the only reason a 9 year old shouldn't have unlimited internet access was because he was a bit young to already get unrealistic expectations from porn. Mainly you had no idea, it just felt weird to turn a kid loose on the internet but then again you'd been a kid who ate mud and called it fun.

So, all the talking and asking opinions and just spending a ton of time together leads to Bruce asking you out. The press saw this coming from miles away and caught you both on your date, not that they didn't have pictures of the two of you hiding from people on a balcony. But an actual date?!? Amazing! All the internet fans were happy for you, the paparazzi loved you and would do anything to get pictures of the two of you.

The two of you became Gotham's it couple overnight but the best thing about it was that it was real. Both of you were blatantly honest, calling each other out when needed and defending each other at other moments. There were no secrets between the both of you and you wouldn't trade that for anything. It was amazing to you that you had finally found a man who saw you as his equal and if anything he was a man known for being a womanizer.

So that's how it all started, in the space of a year the two of you fell in love and were head over heels for each other. Dick played match maker every chance he got, since he adored you for some odd reason. And of course, when you finally met him Alfred approved of you and Bruce being together, the one person able to call him on his shit and have him listen. It was a miracle that Alfred had thought he'd never love to see.

[cellsshapedlikestars]

If you are accepting prompts--how about Sansa and Jon being on opposite sides of a political contest? Prime Minister Rhaegar Targaryen is forced to call a referendum for Northern independence, as demanded by the Northern Nationalists party. He is campaigning in the North for a United Westeros, taking his second wife Lyanna Stark and their son Jon along, toshow how hollow all talk if Northern independence is. However, this means that Jon keeps running into his Stark cousins, particularly Sansa Stark, who accompanies her parents to every debate and campaign rally...

I've been sitting on this for a while (and yes, I do see all the anon prompts, I promise!) and I've sort of been writing this on and off since I got it. The thing is, I have no point of reference for these politics, I'm assuming you wanted something like the Scottish independence movement, which I have almost no knowledge of as I am a dumb American who can barely handle American politics without spiraling into anxiety and depression. So, I've sort of talked around the specifics and hopefully I haven't gotten anything too crazy wrong.

Also, you mention his Stark cousins, but... well, I cannot do modern incest. I can handle them being cousins in olden times where it was acceptable & common (I can't even handle the sibling incest aspect in any time period), but I was writing this modern and that's a hard nope for me. I know it's a fairly predominant part of this fandom and if it's your thing, absolutely have at it! There is no kink shaming in this house. It's just not for me and I couldn't write it, sorry!

Also, as usual, this turned out longer than I intended since these are supposed to be drabbles mostly. But 'drabbles' for me always end up like 2k words

.

Jon sits in the window seat of the jet, headphones on and turned up. Somewhere behind him, he knows his parents are sitting, likely talking strategy. He knows dad wants him to join in, but Jon's in no mood to talk politics. It's what got him in this situation to begin with.

That stupid reporter. Jon's stupid response.

Jon! How do you feel about Northern Independence?

I say let them.

It's what he believes, honestly – if the North wants independence, why not? The rest of the SK treats them like shit anyway, why not let them break off, like Dorne did? It's not a naming issue – they're still called the Seven Kingdoms despite losing Dorne decades ago, so what if they're technically only six now? Jon knows it's about more than that – it's economics and politics and... well, pride. The SK can't lose another piece of their kingdom – nevermind that piece has been conquered and beaten down multiple times over hundreds of years. Northern Independence isn't a new concept – it's just been met with military resistance every time and stamped out. But they aren't in the middle ages anymore.

For a moment he turns his head to look behind him – to see mom with her head bowed in conversation with dad and something ugly twists in Jon's stomach.

He knows dad only married mom because she got pregnant – because his political career was just taking off and a mistress and bastard would have ruined him. And mom, she'd been so young, she's convinced herself he married her for love. Jon swears that mom used to be different. She used to argue with Rhaegar all the time about politics, he even remembers her bringing up Northern Independence when Jon was just a kid. But over the years she's had to play the perfect wife for him and somewhere along the way it just... stuck. Mom isn't his mom anymore. No, mom is what Rhaegar's political advisors want her to be.

So even though Jon had wanted to protest this trip, there's also a part of him desperately clinging to the hope that when they get North, mom will snap out of it. When she's home, maybe she'll be his mom again.

Especially since the leader of the opposition is an old friend of hers.

Ned Stark.

Dad doesn't react to much, he's a politician to his core, so seeing him get riled anytime Ned Stark is on TV is notable. In fact, there's a rebellious part of Jon that already likes Ned Stark simply for the fact that dad hates him so much. There's more to like than just that, Jon knows – Ned Stark seems like one of those politicians that's doing the job because they want to make a difference. They're rare, nowadays, but Jon's been surrounded by politicians his whole life and he can spot the do-gooders from a mile away.

He thinks it's partly why dad hates it – Ned Stark doesn't use the same underhanded tactics Rhaegar's used to, and from everything Jon's heard, there's nothing to use against Ned. The only skeleton dad's advisors had ever found tucked away in Ned Stark's closet had been that his wife, Catelyn, had originally dated his older brother Brandon, who died in a car accident. They'd begun dating and married shortly after - a minor scandal that hadn't gained any traction, considering they've been married for over twenty years with five children.

Dad was hoping to get somewhere with the youngest daughter, Arya, who always seemed more wild than the rest of her siblings (except maybe the youngest, Rickon). The problem is that she's never done anything really wrong and the North loves her. The oldest son Robb is as perfect a son as any politician could hope for and Jon sometimes wonders if dad would rather have Robb than Jon.

The other two sons are still fairly young and going after them would only make dad look like the bad guy. Then there's Sansa.

Jon remembers her from growing up – not that he'd ever met her, but they're both kids of prominent politicians and he's seen her in photos since she was old enough to walk. A proper lady, he remembers even the southern press naming her. Perfect, just like her older brother.

A hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his thoughts and he turns to see mom, who motions at him to take off his headphones.

“We're landing in a half hour and your father would like to go over your role,” she tells him with a perfect, bland smile. (She hasn't been his mother for a very long time.)

“I know my role,” he says and he can't help the bitter tone to his voice. “Stay quite, don't talk to the press. Pretty easy to remember.”

“And yet you still managed to nearly undermine my entire campaign with one flippant remark,” dad's voice calls over from his seat, low and smooth, though Jon absolutely hears the annoyance underneath it.

“Oh, he's just a child,” mom says, trying to play the peacekeeper like she always does.

“He's twenty, he's hardly a child,” dad starts, but Jon doesn't listen to the rest. He pulls his headphones back over his ears and looks back out the window and tries to pretend he's anywhere else.

…

By the time they reach Winterfell Castle, Jon is in a bad mood.

Not that he hadn't been before, but he's not allowed his headphones in the limo and so he'd had to listen to dad talk nonstop about his two favorite topics: Jon's failure as a son and how much he hates Ned Stark. And the way mom doesn't even try to defend Ned Stark like she used to infuriates Jon even more.

Jon hates his tuxedo and he hates that they barely had any time between landing and having to get ready for this dinner and he hates that he's going to have to smile and shake hands with a bunch of people who hate him on principle, simply for who his father is. For what his father represents.

When he does step out of the limo, he ignores every photographer and reporter that shouts his name, eager to get any sort of scandal out of him.

He doesn't blame them for this, he's given them enough over the years – not just his apparent support of Northern Independence, but everything else he's done to gain his notoriety. His reputation as a heartbreaker and a playboy that's mostly over-exaggerated, that time he punched a teacher (though to be fair, Thorne deserved it)... Teenage rebellion, they'd written it off as, but he's no longer a teenager and he knows he should grow up and stop doing things to piss off his father at some point.

(His favorite one had been sleeping with that investigative journalist when he was seventeen. She'd been older than him by a good few years and he'd known she was using him to write an article, but he was using her just as much to infuriate his father. His only true regret is that Ygritte's article hadn't done any real lasting damage to Rhaegar's reputation.)

Inside, there aren't any reporters but there are politicians everywhere and that's worse. He does the bare minimum to not cause an issue – he shakes hands and says hello, though he refuses to smile while doing it. They already hate him for being Rhaegar Targaryen's son. They already hate him for being Northern-traitor Lyanna Snow's son.

He keeps an eye on mom to see how she's doing and his heart twists painfully in his chest when he sees her. She has a bright smile on her face and anyone who didn't know her would think she's fine, but Jon can see how pale she is under her makeup. This is the first time she's been back in the North since she married dad and he has a sudden, sharp pang of hatred for Rhaegar – for getting her pregnant, for marrying her, for never letting her go back. For turning her into this.

He can tell the moment Ned Stark enters the room because mom freezes. And sure enough, there he is – beautiful wife at his side, the three adult children with him. Robb, Sansa, Arya. Jon's eyes scan over them – Robb with his perfect hair and smile, an easy way about him that's always come through even on camera. Sansa standing poised and almost too beautiful to believe – Jon's only ever seen her on film and somehow she's even more unreal in person. Arya, who by all accounts hates politics as much as Jon does, stands firmly by her family and Jon gets the sense she only hates the system, not her dad. Not like Jon.

As Jon scans the room, he can see other families here that he recognizes – the Greyjoys, including Robb Stark's best friend Theon. The Manderlys, the Karstarks, the Ryswells, the Boltons, the Mormonts. More families than Jon cares to remember.

There's a sense of someone behind him and he turns just enough to see that dad has come up to stand next to him. For a moment, dad just stands there before turning his head ever so slightly and bringing his mouth close to Jon's ear and he says so low Jon can barely even hear it - “if you do anything to embarrass me tonight, there will be consequences. If you do anything that makes it seem like you support this pathetic independence movement, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”

Jon feels blind rage that winds so hot in his chest it makes him shake and his vision narrow. He has to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he can answer, and he grits out, “of course.” Dad nods and moves away, putting on his best politician smile as he goes to greet Howland Reed.

Mom shoots him a concerned look, but Jon ignores her. He can feel it building in him – that rebelliousness the press likes to talk about so much. He wants to hurt Rhaegar. For everything – for his mother, for all the people dad's stepped on and hurt. He wants to embarrass him, consequences be damned.

Just as he's thinking this, his eyes catch on copper hair and bright blue eyes.

Sansa Stark.

Darling of the press. Perfect Northern princess.

It takes root in his mind, against his better judgment. What would make Rhaegar more furious than an affair between his son and the daughter of Ned Stark?

Jon can't imagine Sansa would be amenable to the suggestion, not like Ygritte had been – there is no mutually beneficial agreement here. She would never agree to do something that might embarrass her father (and once again, Jon is reminded of the, pun intended, stark difference between his relationship with his father and the Stark children's relationship with Ned. Jon has never even met them in person and he knows this).

So he can't approach her with any sort of offer or plan. No, he'd have to pretend it was real.

He's going to have to seduce Sansa Stark.

[andromedasstarship]

i could not choose between 77-80 so i overbearingly ask u to use each of them with spencer reid if u wish 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

80. “Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.” + 77- “If you want to leave, we can leave.”

send a prompt + character from this list! 

pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings - stress?? mostly fluff 

a/n - tysm kenna for requesting this i love you and i loved writing this. i also went overboard on this one bye! ive also never posted something this long in an ask reply before so if this looks weird BYE!

Your car had long gone cold, but you still couldn’t find the energy to pull yourself out yet. It was futile to try and wrestle your emotions into a tightly sealed box; as soon as you crossed the threshold of the town-home you shared with Spencer, you knew he’d be able to read you like a book. Damn genius profiler skills.

Taking a quick look at the time you knew you had to suck it up and go inside; you were pushing how ‘late’ you could be without him worrying something had happened on your commute home. With a deep sigh, you grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and exited the car; taking your sweet time with locking the car behind you and digging your house keys out of the bottom of your bag.

To put it simply, it had been a difficult year. It was the final year of your Phd. program and while- all things considered- you had had an amazing time, the past few months had been both physically and mentally draining. What was once your lifelong passion had suddenly started to feel like a chore; a chore you felt you weren’t even good at anymore. Almost every day was spent either in your own classes or teaching undergrads. Almost every night was spent on the final edits of your thesis or grading work from your students. The few moments of freedom you found were spent doing the boring parts of adult life: housekeeping, getting your car fixed, calling elderly family members, etc.

Neither of you had formerly addressed it, but you knew it was taking a toll on your relationship. Spencer being busy was a constant, but it was normally balanced out by your typical 9-5 schedule. But recently, even on the nights he was home you’d be too wrapped up in your own work to even sit down and eat dinner with him. By the time you crawled into bed he’d be long asleep and in the mornings you’d been leaving for work earlier and earlier in order to get research time in at the university library. It felt like the two of you hadn’t even been awake in the same room for weeks, let alone do anything relationship-y.

Tonight was supposed to change that. Kind of. His team was having a fancy dinner to celebrate some major milestone that you couldn’t remember. It’d been on the books for months, but kept getting pushed back by surprise cases. It felt like everyone held their breath this week, waiting for a case to pop up, but instead everyone was left pleasantly surprised when no such thing happened. It was going to be a great night: classic Rossi pasta dish, all partners and kids invited. Even though the two of you wouldn’t be alone, it’d still be a perfectly good excuse to get out, put on some nice outfits and have a fun evening with friends.

Spencer had been particularly excited. The past week, you felt as if it was the only thing he ever talked about. Not that the two of you were having extensive conversations. He kept talking about how great it would be to get out of the house and how much he was looking forward to having a totally work free evening. His excitement warmed your heart.

Which is why you were taking so long to find your keys. Today had been one of the hardest day you’d experienced in a long time. The thesis meeting you had with your advisor- that you’d been staying up late every night editing for- had gone horribly; it was as if everything you prepared was wrong. Almost every student in the class you taught scored poorly on the latest assessment- on a unit you considered yourself an expert on-, something you viewed as a failure of your ability to convey the info. And to top it all off, even though you felt as if you’d spent hours upon hours working yourself to the bone the past week- in order to clear space for tonight-, you still felt as if you had piles of work to catch up on.

You knew the stress and tension of the day would read clear on your body as soon as Spencer got a look at you. And with how excited he’d been, you absolutely didn’t want to ruin the dinner. You’d hate for him to feel as if you were being selfish or that you couldn’t even prioritize him in your schedule.

You took one last deep breath, before going to put the key into the doorknob. Just as you touched the handle, the door swung open from the other side.

“Jesus!” You exclaimed, one hand clutching your chest as you nearly jumped out of your skin. In front of you was Spencer, smiling down at you with that irresistible grin of his.

“Did I scare you? Sorry. I thought I heard you car pull up earlier and when you didn’t come in I thought maybe something was wrong so I wanted to come check-”

You quickly cut him off- even though you did find his worrying a bit endearing- by pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

“A good song came on just as I pulled in, couldn’t just get out.” You lied, adding a small laugh for effect. It was an on brand situation for you, something certainly believable. If Spencer had any doubts, he didn’t question you, simply moved out of the doorframe so you could step in.

Inside the house, you set your bag down by the front door like you always did. While kicking your shoes off, you pulled your jacket off, smiling when Spencer had his hands already open to hang it on the rack. You knew he had that ridiculous memory- and you had a pretty set routine-, but it still made your heart swell every time he anticipated your next move and went the extra mile to be helpful.

“So, how was your day?" Spencer asked, as the two of you made your way to the kitchen area. “What’d Professor Addams have to say in your meeting?”

You clenched at the handle of the fridge, grinding your teeth before pulling the door open. When you turned to look at Spencer, you saw he made himself comfortable on one of the countertop stools.

“Went well. They gave me some uh, um, some comprehensive revisions.” You said flatly, turning back to face the fridge; missing the skeptical look Spencer was throwing you.

“That’s good?” He said slowly, before adding, “well how was class? You just wrapped up the last unit didn’t you?” You both knew he knew the answer, but was just attempting to further the conversation. Had it been any other day you would’ve found it endearing, but today just wasn’t that day.

You slammed the fridge door shut, just hard enough to be cause for concern. “I thought tonight was absolutely no shop talk. Huh? Why don’t we just start that rule now.” You said, a slight edge to your voice. It’s not his fault, it’s not his fault.

“Are you okay-”

“Yes! I just don’t-”

“If there’s something wrong, you know you can tell-”

“There’s nothing wrong-”

“Do you need to stay-”

“Stop!” You exclaimed, bringing an end to the constant cutting each other off. “Everything is fine. Okay?” You said, unable to maintain eye contact.

Spencer slowly nodded, though you could tell he didn’t believe an ounce of what you had just said. Luckily for you, he seemed to let it go, falling back in his seat.

“I’m gonna go shower and get ready and then we can leave, alright?” You asked rhetorically. When he just nodded again, you very quickly walked up to him and pressed another quick kiss to his lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

---

The ride to Rossi’s was silent, something that normally wouldn’t have bothered either of you had it not been for the borderline argument you had in the kitchen. As you pulled up a few cars down from the house, you caught Spencer staring at you from the passenger seat, a slightly concerned look on his face.

“Stop doing that.” You huffed out, but there was no real bite in your voice.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked gently, reaching out to push a piece of your hair away from your face. God that was sweet.

You quickly nodded and threw a very forced smile his way, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’m fine. I promise, come on.” You said, killing the engine and pushing open your car door.

Before you could fully open the door, Spencer’s arm shot out across your body and pulled the door back shut with a bang.

“Spencer!” You yelped, startled by his sudden movement. You turned and gave him a bewildered look.

“You always look over my head when you lie.” Spencer stated.

“Oh I do not-” You started, but letting the sentence fall flat as soon as you realized you currently were looking over his head.

“Your favorite song came on the radio, twice, on the drive here and you didn’t react at all either times.” He said. When you still didn’t say anything he continued. “What’s going on? You know you can tell me.”

The look he was giving you was making you feel all sorts of guilty. Of course he cared, that’s why you loved him so much. You just didn’t want to ruin something that’d been in the works for so long, all because you had a bad day.

“Spencer,” you started, giving him a very pointed look and making sure to hold eye contact, “I’m fine. Can we just go in?”

Spencer shook his head, externally searching your face for more clues while also internally thinking back to any clues from your kitchen fight. “We aren’t going anywhere, until you talk to me.” He urged.

It probably wasn’t the best move on his part, seeing as you both were incredibly stubborn. The two of you were unrelenting, both staring blankly at the other; hoping the other one would break first. After nearly 5 minutes of silence, it became very clear that neither of you were standing down anytime soon.

Spencer reached his hand out again, gently cupping your cheek; internally you cursed your body’s natural reaction to lean into his touch. “What’s going on?” He asked, voice much softer than earlier.

You were internally screaming over how caring he was. Damn him! You cursed yourself for not being able to just play the role of perfect partner for one night.

“I’m exhausted.” You said, voice quiet. “My meeting went horrible day. I absolutely failed at teaching my students the last unit. I’ve been bringing so much work back to the house I haven’t even been able to give you a second of attention. And now we have this dinner that you’ve been looking forward to for months and I don’t want to ruin-”

This time, it was Spencer that quickly cut off your rambles with a kiss.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, as if it were the most simple thing ever

You gave him a shocked look. “Spencer, you’ve been talking about this dinner for weeks. I, I can’t ask you to put this off, you and the team rarely get time to-”

“If you want to leave, we can leave.” He said. His voice was so sincere it made the whole thing that much more difficult. He was too good.

“Spencer, no.” You said, putting special emphasis on the ‘no’. “We haven’t even walked in the door, there’s nothing to leave yet. I’m not going to ruin the dinner we’ve all been planning on for months. I’ll be fine for a couple hours.”

He didn’t answer, instead pulled his phone out and quickly started to type out a text.

“What are you doing?”

“Texting Rossi, I’m gonna tell him you aren’t feeling well and we can’t come anymore.”

“We’re outside his house! It’s not a big deal-!

“Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner!” Spencer cut you off, giving you a very pointed look. You weren’t sure your heart could take the swelling much longer.

“Spencer, you’ve been planning-”

“I don’t want to hear it-”

“You’ve wanted to get out of the house for so long!” You stressed, giving him a ‘duh’ look.

“We can go do something else!” He replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just us, no pressure to be ‘on’ in front of anyone else.” That did sound good- No!

“I’m not gonna be the one who keeps their boyfriend away from his friends-”

“I see them every day. Every day. One dinner means nothing.” Spencer said confidently, clasping your hand tightly between his.

You contemplated for what seemed like hours; though it couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.” Spencer said, giving you a very mock serious look; you couldn’t help but laugh at that. “There you are.” He said, smiling to match yours.

You turned the car on, clicking your seatbelt back into place. “So, where to pretty boy?” You asked.

“Well, I heard of this new ice cream place that just opened up. Their ‘claim to fame’ is they make over 50 flavors in store every single day. Did you know on average it takes nearly three hours from start to finish to make a single batch of ice cream? Or that when ice cream-”

You shook your head in amusement, chancing a couple glances in his direction as you were driving. You loved his excited ramblings and animated hand motions as he further explained the history of ice cream; as well as all the random facts about the place he was directing you to. As you got closer to your new destination, all you could think about was how lucky you were to, to be loved by someone who always knew just what to say.

---

permanent tags - @sunflowersandotherthings

[harryspet]

the good guy | steve rogers

[warnings] dark steve rogers x reader, pre-serum steve x reader, 40′s setting, petite reader, angst, noncon sex (wear a condom, kids), public sex?

A/N: this was inspired by @darkastrea​ ‘s idea where the reader falls for skinny steve because he’s small like her and makes her less insecure but after the war she’s not attracted to him anymore and super soldier steve doesn’t handle the rejection well. 

THIS ADULT CONTENT AND CONTAINS TRIGGERING SUBJECTS

In which Steve returns from the war and things just aren’t the same. 

word count: 3.6k

Everyone looked past you. Even your own family. Steve was the only one who understood that. He understood everyone looking down on you, literally. He was small like you but he was the one who knew how to stand up for himself. You admired that. 

The first time you met him, he had ducked into the bakery you worked at part time. The sign clearly read “closed” but the lights of the shop were still on. As he hid behind one of the tables, you watched as a group of men ran past the front of the store, completely missing their target. 

He had always had a way of astonishing you. When he introduced himself that night, you had no idea how deep your bond would grow. 

You were barely over five feet and that seemed to shock Steve as much as his height shocked you. Everyone seemed to tower over you and every woman Steve met towered over him. No thanks to the family you grew up with, most men intimidated you. Steve seemed to be different than most guys. 

“Do you always go looking for fights?” You asked, handing him a cup of coffee. You took a break from closing up the shop to get to know the courageous stranger. 

“Not always, ma’am,” He answered, a sly smile on his face, “But I’ve noticed that they just continue to pick on you when you stand down.”

You nervously tapped at your coffee cup as his words sunk in, “But won’t they always win when they’re bigger than you …” Steve could sense the double meaning behind your words but decided it was best not to dig into the intimacies of a strangers life. 

“They lose their power when you’re confident. They assume. because you’re smaller, that you’re mentally weaker. They back off when you show them you’re not.”

You slowly nodded, stirring your spoon around your coffee, “Is that why you ran in here?”

“Oh, those guys? My method works better against one guy, not six. With six guys, you just gotta run,” You laughed at that and Steve noted your beautiful smile. In all these years, he’d never gotten close to getting a girl to smile like that for him. They looked past him because of his scrawny looks yet you saw him, “Are you the Gloria in Gloria’s Sweets?”

You shook your head, your smile still wide, “Oh no, that’s my boss. I’m Y/N,” Steve held his hand out to shake yours. 

“Steve Rogers.”

You looked down at your watch, knowing that you’d be expected home soon, “Well, if you don’t mind, I have to clean up and then get home.” As you stood up from your seat, Steve stood up abruptly too. 

“I can help,” He rushed out, “And I can escort you home … since it’s so late.”

Your head cocked to the side, curiously, “Really?”

“Of course,” Steve said, “It’s the least I could do after distracting you from work.”

You slowly nodded in agreement, “Okay.”

You cleaned up the kitchen together and Steve explained the reason those six guys were chasing him. Apparently, he was out drinking with his friend Bucky and saw the drunks messing with a stray cat, throwing bottles at it. He kindly tried to tackle one of the guys and the chase ensued. “At least the cat escaped,” Steve said. 

You closed up the shop and allowed Steve to walk you home. Luckily, there was no sign of the group of men from before. You walked the five blocks home, Steve acting as your “protection”. Really, you were just enjoying his company. 

“This is me,” You said as you stopped in front of your building, “We should probably say bye here. My family will send me to some Christian camp in the midwest if they catch me with a boy.”

Steve nodded, his lips in a thin line, “... Can I ... Can I see you again, Y/N?”

You nodded, a soft smile on your lips, “You know where I work. Swing by any time, Mr. Rogers.”

Steve’s heart did a backflip in his chest and a happy warmth heated his cheeks, “Yes, ma’am.”

+

You hadn’t realized what you were experiencing with Steve was a crush until this moment. When you ran together on the sandy beach because he surprised you with a day trip. He knew you had been stressed out from nursing school and wanted to help you relax. 

Your mother thought you were at a girl friend’s home, of course, but even she had met Steve already. Five months ago, you invited Steve to dinner with your family. It was one of the most awkward experiences of your life. Your father grilled him on his intentions, your mother didn’t seem to think he was worthy of you and your older brothers made jokes about his appearance. 

You thought he might be done with you after that. Turns out, Steve was quite used to people talking to him that way. It hadn’t scared him off at all, only made him understand why you acted the way you did. He understood why you went through life with your head down. 

Your family had bulldozed over you for your entire life. 

You snapped out of the memory as Steve grabbed your hand. He spun you in a circle and you danced around in the sand. The waves were loud and the people celebrating Memorial Day. 

The two of you plopped down onto the sand as you attempted to catch your breath. Your long cream skirt was dirtied but that didn’t matter much to you. You were focused on the sparkling blue in his eyes, the hint of green you noticed, and how incredibly kind they were. 

“Steve,” You breathed, “Thank you.”

“For what?” He grinned back at you. 

For caring like no one ever has. For letting you talk. For making you laugh. 

“For today,” You said instead, “I really needed this.”

You stayed at the beach all day, eating the lunch Steve packed for the two of you and then laying down to look at the stars as night set. 

Your hands brushed against each other but neither of you was bold enough to grab onto one another. 

“Y/N,” You turned your head to him as he called your name, “I brought you here to tell you something.”

You turned on your side, resting your head against your hand, “What’s that?”

The eager look on your face quickly fell as you realized he wasn’t about to confess his love for you, “You know how badly I wanted to enlist,” You nodded your head, scared of his next words, “Well, an opportunity arose. I get to go to boot camp, to train, and finally prove myself. If I get chosen for this project, I can make a real difference.”

Bullies. Steve hated bullies no matter where they came from. 

You were quiet for a moment and Steve struggled to read the emotions on your face, “I want to be happy for you, I do. This is your dream …” Your voice trailed off, “But I worry, Steve. They rejected you five times. What makes you think you’re not just a sacrifice?”

Steve simply shrugged, “It’s the cause that matters more. I want to help any way that I can.”

“You don’t care about coming back,” Your eyes welled with tears, “To me?”

“Of course I do,” Steve turned on his side now, reaching out to brush a tear from your cheek, and brush a curl behind your ear, “But I have to do this. I just have to. And when I get back, we’re going to drive across the country and see all the sites. From east to west, we’ll see everything.”

“I hope you mean that, Steve. Promise you’ll come back?”

“I swear.”

+

Steve kept his promise. It took until the very end of the war but he kept his promise. Only, things had changed so much since last saw him. You couldn’t believe the Steve you saw in those newspapers. He had completely turned into a hero. You already knew he was a hero but it seemed the rest of the world could recognize it now. 

Your family’s tune completely changed. Now they were begging you to marry him. Deep down, with all the changes, you didn’t even expect Steve to care about you anymore. Every woman in the world was swooning over him. 

As you stepped out of the brownstone where your classes were held, clutching your brown sweater tight to you, you didn’t expect the sight before you. Steve was there, clad in his army brown suit, and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. 

The girls who normally brushed past you stopped to stare. It baffled them that Steve was there for you, someone who was barely noticeable in a crowd. 

Steve’s white smile was wide as you approached him, clutching your bag at your side, “Steve-” He instantly pulled you into a hug and, already, you felt things were off. Your head was pressed against his chest as he pulled you in and his suffocating, strong arms wrapped around you. He was an entire foot taller now and had gained at least a hundred more pounds of pure muscle. 

He didn’t look anything like the Steve you knew before, even his face had changed slightly. 

You spoke as he finally let you go, “Steve, what are you-”

“These are for you,” He interrupted you, handing you the flowers, “God, I really missed you.”

“I missed you too,” You agreed, smiling awkwardly up at him. You looked around to see a group of people were staring, “Maybe we could talk somewhere else?”

Steve agreed, his smile still wide. He hadn’t yet noticed your trepidation through the excitement of it all. 

You and Steve found a restaurant a few blocks away, but even there, people seemed to stare at the two of you. The waitress practically spilled coffee on you from being distracted by him, “Y/N, is something wrong?”

You shook your head though you didn’t mean it, “It’s just … this is all so new. I didn’t expect you’d come back …. like this.”

Steve didn’t seem to get the hint, “What do you think? Do you like the new features?” Part of you was grateful that there was a table between the two of you. The man radiated so much power now, “I can make more than a difference now. I can run a mile in less than a minute, lift a war missile. I can protect the little guys.”

“That’s great,” You were happy for him but you couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by his newfound abilities, “Those goons at the bars won’t know what hit them.”

Steve chuckled, “Enough about me. How’s school?”

“It’s good. My finals are soon so we’ll find out if I have what it takes.”

“I’m sure you do,” Steve assured you, “You’re the smartest girl I know, Y/N. What about your family?”

“They’re the same. In my business as usual,” You thought about your next words carefully, “My mom … she’s starting to set me up on all these dates. She says that, in case I don’t pass my exams, that I should have someone to support me. Things are getting tight, you know?”

“Oh?” You saw the light leave his eyes and you mentally cursed, “Are you really interested in one of these guys?”

You shrugged, “I’m not sure. I really just want to focus on school and work. Dating is so complicated.”

“Oh,” Steve said again, tucking the ring box he held under the table back into his pocket, “Yes, complicated … before I left, I thought we sort of had a shot, Y/N.”

“... Me and the super soldier? The world would probably laugh at you for choosing someone like me.”

“They wouldn’t. If they did, I’d take care of ‘em.”

“It’s a sweet fantasy, Steve.”

With that, you successfully broke Captain America’s heart. 

+

Steve thought you just needed time. You’d soon realize that he was still like the old Steve and you’d come running into his arms later, begging to be with him. It didn’t seem to matter how much time passed, three months to be exact, because you had changed the way you saw him. 

You still entertained him during your late shifts and you got to hear all about his secret missions. He still had the same sense of justice that you had admired him for. You could barely believe the things that he accomplished. 

Tonight, Steve refused to just sit around the diner, he wanted to go out. He was going to take you into the new drive-in upstate. He had a completely new car courtesy of SHIELD and he was keen to show you a life of luxury. You had never heard of a drive-in before, let alone been to one. Steve explained to you that they were going to be the “next big thing”. 

He paid a couple of cents for the movie, even though you told him that you’d pay for yourself. You noticed how, lately when you protested, he’d simply raise his hand up and give you a look that said “I’ve got this”. You knew he was only trying to be a gentleman but part of you disliked the feeling it gave you. 

The two of you met up with Bucky and his current fling. Both Steve and Bucky seemed to be riding the high that winning the war brought them. You watched them talk before the movie, Bucky’s girl practically drooling over him. As you went to your separate cars, it seemed she couldn’t keep her hands off of him. 

As you watched them kiss, practically swallowing each other, Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You tried your best not to let out a sigh as you watched him try to play it cool, “I don’t think they’re stopping to breathe,” You commented and Steve’s eyes looked past you into the car beside yours. You didn’t notice but Steve’s eyes had turned to you, “I mean, I didn’t even know people kissed like that in real life.”

When you turned back around to look at Steve, he was suddenly grabbing your face and smashing his lips onto yours. Hungry and desperate, sloppy and inexperienced, his lips moved against your frozen face. As soon as the realization hit, you tried your best to push him away. It was like pushing at a boulder. 

“Steve-” You struggled to cry out against his lips, “Steve, stop!”

When Steve finally pulled away, you tried to catch your breath as you wiped away your smudged lipstick. Steve stared at you in disbelief as you shouted, “What is wrong with you?” Luckily, the windows were rolled up and people were focused on the movie screen, “What did I say to make you think I wanted to kiss you? Y-You said this wasn’t a date.”

“I’m … I’m sorry,” He apologized. It was stupid to think that his new body had changed everything. He was still that small kid that would get rejected over and over. Steve turned away from you, his blood starting to boil. 

“I want to go home,” You told him, not meeting his eyes. Could you even be his friend anymore? Everything about him was beginning to intimidate you. 

Steve didn’t say another word as he put the car in reverse. He wasted no time interrupting Bucky’s makeout session or finishing the movie. The two of you sat in silence for a long while as you drove down the dark, winding road. 

“That day at the beach, you cried,” You looked up and noted how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel, “You cried when you heard I was getting shipped off and, now … what’s changed, Y/N?”

You could sense the hurt in this voice and your lip began to wobble as you thought of those nights you spent crying over him, “Steve ... “ You sighed.

“What is it?” Steve persisted, “I told you that I don’t care what other people think!”

“Steve, that’s not it!” You insisted, “You’re not … you’re not the little guy anymore. Being with you used to make me feel safe a-and now ....”

“Now I’m just like every other guy?” You nodded, your face solemn. The car slowed down and Steve pulled to the side of the road, “I’m the bad guy now? After everything?”

“I know you’re not the bad guy … ” As he turned his body to face you, you felt yourself cowering back, your small body sinking into the leather seat. You felt the frustration and testosterone radiating off of him. Your breathing hitched in your throat as Steve pulled out the ring box in his pocket. 

“I don’t understand why you can’t just accept me,” Steve spoke, his deep voice growing rougher, “Why can’t you just love me like you used to?”

“You’re a killing machine,” You spoke softly, “A tool for destruction.”

The car went silent as Steve simply stared at you, that same hunger in his eyes. He reached out to grab your face, “I can be gentle,” He tried to assure you and you reached up to grab onto his arm, pushing it away. The fact that the only reason his hand moved was because he wanted to move it, was enough for you. If he wanted, he could do anything to you. 

“Steve, I want to go home,” You stated as firmly as you could. Your hands were starting to shake, your anxiety reaching a new height. 

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Steve stated firmly, turning off the ignition, “Not until you agree to let me put that ring on your finger.”

Your eyes darted around, looking for a passerby or a car to drive by. Nothing. You began to panic and before Steve could reach out for you again, you opened the passenger door and stumbled out, “Y/N!” Your hands hit the dirt as you scrambled to your feet and you quickly lost one of your heels. Despite the pain of the dirt and asphalt, you slipped off the other one, picking up your long skirt as you began to run. 

You had never heard Steve curse before but he did as he got out of the car to chase you, “Y/N, don’t run from me!” You sped up as you heard him coming after you. You thought you could at least make it a few more feet but the wind was knocked out of you as Steve wrapped his arms around you. 

You fought hard against the man that was three times your size though you both knew your efforts were futile. He easily tossed you over your shoulder and carried you the distance back to the car. You called for help and as he set you back down, he covered your mouth with his own hand, his fingers tightening around your face. 

You screamed even harder as you kicked between his legs. He let you go only to fall on top of you, sending you both to the ground. Steve groaned, still managing to hold your hands down as he recovered. He was fuming at this point as you squirmed around in the dirt. Looking into your frightened eyes, Steve made a decision. 

A decision that would make you regret ever handing him that cup of coffee. 

“I protect you, I protect everyone, and I’m the bad guy?” It was rhetorical, you understood that as Steve tore open your blouse, exposing your white brassier, “I’ll show you what I am.”

Steve pinned down your legs with his own as he held your arms pinned above your head with one of his own. Not bothering to fumble with your skirt, he simply tore away the fabric. You screamed louder but only the silence of the night answered you. 

Steve pulled away your white underwear, exposing your sensitive area to the cool air of the night, “Steve, I-I’m sorry,” You pleaded, choking on your sobs, “Please don’t, I’m a virgin!”

“Then this will be special for both of us,” Steve concluded, fumbling with his belt and pulling down his trousers. You tried not to look down as he positioned himself between your legs, “We’re going to be happy together like we were intended to be. It’ll feel so good that you’ll forget your doubts”

His grip on you was so tight that you were sure that he’d leave bruises. As he pushed his tip against your entrance, you could feel how hard he was. This wasn’t how your first time should’ve been. You should be married and on a honeymoon, not on the side of the road. 

You cried out as he slowly pushed inside of you. Your body continued to struggle, resulting in Steve moving his hand to wrap around your neck. His fingers tightened around your neck as you struggled to breathe clearly. 

You wrapped around him tightly, resisting him but Steve pushed through. It was a magical feeling to Steve. All he could ask for was having his first time with the woman of his dreams. 

Steve grunted as his pace began to quicken. He made you feel so small and defenseless. The member between his legs was practically the size of your forearm, successfully impaling you. You couldn’t believe that your body was beginning to adjust to him. It was starting to get pleasure from the friction he was creating. 

“That’s it, darling,” Steve groaned as mangled moans began to leave your mouth, “Enjoy the feeling of me being inside you, enjoy being mine. You don’t need someone ‘good’, you need someone efficient.”

That night, after he had taken your virtue, Steve knew he had the rest of you too. He’d make you his little wife.

+

Hope you enjoyed this because I loved writing it!!

[bruhlsbees]

it was real enough || baron helmut zemo x heike zemo

summary: heike zemo spends her last moments with her son, carl, and father-in-law, heinrich, before the battle of sokovia

pairing: baron helmut zemo x heike zemo

warnings: i always say angst but this one is for real gonna rip your heart out, major character death, heike clinging to carl in their last moments, sad phone call that ends too soon

word count: 3,502

a/n: based on this set of sentences specifically "it was real enough", in mcu zemo's wife's name is not said, so i went with her comic name of heike, also according to his mcu fandom wiki - zemo's son's name is carl!

May 4, 2015.

“Don’t worry. They’re fighting in the city. We’re miles from harm.” Helmut whispered, holding his wife’s delicate face in his hands, stroking her cheekbones before resting his own forehead against hers.

Heike grasped onto Helmut’s hands, closing her eyes as she embraced her husband, “I know...I know, but the sounds of gunfire- the screaming, Carl can’t sleep well, Helmut...I don’t know what to do.” She didn’t try and hold back her tears as Helmut kissed her face, peppering slow and gentle kisses as he listened to her sniffle, crying quietly, “I wish we could leave...go somewhere...anywhere!”

“I know, I know. I wish we could, but it’ll be over soon. Yes? You and Carl will be safe here with my father. He will take care of you while I’m gone and until I return, and then we will leave. Perhaps Latvia? Carl enjoys the sun there.”

Running his hands down Heike’s arms, Helmut squeezed her elbows, watching as she slowed her breathing, calming herself down before nodding in agreement, “Yes, I would enjoy that.”

Helmut leaned forward, kissing his wife once more before letting out a shaky sigh, not wanting to leave her. “Please, Helmut...please come home. I can’t lose you.” Heike admitted, her voice cracking.

To him, Helmut thought this was just a temporary departure, hugging his wife tight against him as he whispered sweet reassurances into her ear as he always did. Little did he know, this would be the last.

Before Helmut left to join the others of the EKO Scorpion squad, he stood in the doorway, doing his best to stay strong as his father held his wife and son, doing his equal best to stay strong. Heike and Carl, on the other hand, were not holding themselves together - he couldn’t blame them though, if it weren’t for his own bundle of nerves that were forcing him to stay calm, he probably would be in the same boat as them.

Kneeling to his son’s height, Helmut pulled Carl in for one last hug, holding him close as he cradled his head in his hands, “You look after your mother and grandfather for me while I’m gone. Can you do that, my brave boy?”

Nodding, Carl squeezed his father tight, his sniffles calming him down for the moment, leaning into his father’s kiss against his head before pulling back with him. Watching as his father stood, Carl stumbled back into his mother’s grasp, squeezing her tight as he buried his face into her side, crying into her shirt.

Helmut wished he could stay, to be with his family, but he knew that he had to go - he had to help protect Sokovia and make sure that his family would see the end of this. Feeling the tugs on his heart as he turned, Helmut forced himself to exit the home, closing the door behind him. When the door clicked shut, he heard Carl’s sobs break out, flinching at how painful they sounded. He wanted so desperately to turn and run back inside, but his walkie crackled on, turning his attention back to joining the other members of his squad.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

May 6, 2015.

The night had been filled with screaming and crying throughout the city of Novi Grad. Heike tried so desperately to ignore the sounds of gunfire and explosion, but it seemed the harder she tried, the louder they became.

Sleep for Heike did not come - not since the beginning of the fallout. Laying in bed with Carl, Heike held her son close, rubbing his back and kissing his head as he slept, flinching occasionally. Heike tried to hold back the grunts as Carl would kick her in his worst fits.

If Helmut were here, he would know what to do.

Blinking away tears, Heike sighed and looked over Carl to see the sun begin to peek through the curtains. Deciding that she wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon, Heike pulled herself away from Carl who was clinging to her, gently moving out of the bed and down the hall to the kitchen.

Heike avoided looking out the windows, not wanting to see the damage the city endured in just the one night. She knew it couldn’t be good, judging by the troubling noises that were heard all night and into the morning. If she were to look out the window, her mind would go to Helmut - wondering where he was in all this and if he would return.

Opening the cupboard, Heike pulled down a teacup and prepped to make a pot of cherry blossom tea, blinking away tears as the water boiled.

“So, what is your poison?”

Heike smiled at Helmut from across the table, the light tune from the piano brought the atmosphere down. The restaurant would soon be closing, but the two didn’t have any plans to leave anytime soon.

Scooping a slice from the cake the two were sharing, Heike, put the fluffy chocolate dessert in her mouth, blushing and shaking her head. “It’s silly...but...I love cherry blossom tea.”

Helmut couldn’t help but smile at the confession, not expecting it to be so innocent. Here he was, planning on inviting her to go get drinks, only to find out that her own personal poison was not liquor, but tea.

“Cherry blossom tea? I would have never taken you for the cherry blossom type of lady.” Helmut teased, stealing the last bite of cake before placing his spoon on the plate.

Heike couldn’t help but giggle, putting her spoon on the plate as well before shrugging, “I never was too fond of hard drinks. I always enjoyed a warm cup of tea. Sometimes with a turkish delight, if I was feeling adventurous.”

She couldn’t believe it, but she actually got cheeky and winked at him. They had been going on a few dates now, so this wasn’t too forward, but for her, this wasn’t in the norm. Heike was rather reserved, but with Helmut, something came out in her.

Reaching across the table, Helmut took Heike’s hand into his, squeezing her soft hand into his rougher one, “Turkish delights? My, aren’t you the rebel.” He teased, grinning at her when he noticed her cheeks going more red.

The sound of the kettle whistling pulled Heike from her thoughts, quickly pulling the kettle from the stove to calm down before placing on the cooler burner. Placing a cherry blossom tea bag in her cup, Heike poured the boiling water over the bag and felt her body relax when the scent of cherry blossom hit her.

When she settled the kettle back down, she picked up the tea cup, not noticing how shaky she was until the light clattering of the cup hit against the plate. Choking back the sob, Heike felt the tears rolling down her cheeks, unable to take a drink of the tea.

She pushed the tea cup back onto the counter, burying her face into her hands to muffle her crying, not wanting to wake up Carl or Helmut’s father, Heinrich, as it was still fairly early. She had been holding in her tears for so long, her worries over where Helmut was at that moment stuffed down. Heike only wanted to make sure that Carl was okay, forgetting her own delicate state of mind.

Heike’s tears continued to fall, soon unable to even bite down on her lip to muffle her cries. What she was not expecting, however, was to be pulled into such a tender embrace.

When she recognized that it was Heinrich, Heike wrapped her arms around the larger man’s middle, sobbing into his chest as he held her, stroking her hair.

“Shh, Heike, it’s okay. It’s okay. He will be back soon.” Heinrich assured, humming lowly to try and take her mind off of the situation. Heinrich was very fond of his family, adoring his daughter-in-law and grandson. He knew this was hard on the both of them, with Helmut being gone, and he felt it was only fair to do what Helmut would do if he were here for them.

After a few long moments, giving Heike the time to calm herself down, Heinrich felt Heike pull back, sniffling as she wiped away her tears from her face and her nose. “Thank you…” She whispered quietly, her voice cracking from the painful sobs.

Smiling, Heinrich tucked Heike’s hair behind her ears and kissed the top of her head, “Carl needs his mother now more than ever, but that does not mean you cannot have your moments to break down. Even the strongest still need their moments.”

Nodding in understandment, Heike looked up at Heinrich and smiled, looking down at the counter to collect her tea once again, this time taking a sip of the warm liquid. The warmth calmed her down enough for her to catch her breath, processing what Heinrich had told her before taking another deep sip, finishing the cup. Heike set the empty cup on the counter before making her way towards the window. She knew she shouldn’t have looked out the curtain, but her curiosity got the best of her.

When she saw the damage unfold beneath her, her heart sank. She couldn’t imagine the lives lost, the damage it caused for everyone, all while the Avengers were doing what they thought was for the best. She didn’t hate them, no, she knew they were doing what they thought was best - but she couldn’t help but wonder if they ever stopped to think about how their actions would affect the towns they fought in?

“Carl will probably be waking up soon, perhaps I should make us something to eat?” Heinrich offered, approaching Heike and placing a gentle hand onto her shoulder, pulling her away from the window.

Pulled from the window, along with her thoughts, Heike looked up at Heinrich and nodded, “Yes, that sounds lovely, I’ll go get Carl...I just- I have to make a call first.”

Heike excused herself from the kitchen and made her way down the hall and into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her before she sat on the toilet, opening her phone and scrolling until she found Helmut’s contact, pressing the ‘call’ icon and putting the phone to her ear.

She knew that Helmut wouldn’t answer, couldn’t answer, she had tried just last night, asking when he would be home and trying to pretend in some sad way that everything was fine. This time, though, she knew she wouldn’t be able to pretend.

“Helmut...my love...it’s me again,” Heike began, steadying her voice before continuing, “I know you’re not able to talk right now and I’m sorry if this is interfering in any sort of way but I-” She paused, feeling herself being to choke up before she took a deep breath, “I just wanted to call and tell you that I love you. It’s silly to say over the phone, through a voicemail, but I fear something might happen that we both did not see coming...I know, I know I shouldn’t be talking this way, but one of us has to be realistic. Of course, I am praying, praying to anyone out there that this nightmare will be over, and soon you’ll be back in bed with me, but so far nobody has heard my prayers.” The tears that fell from her cheeks began to fall freely now, unable to be contained. Heike did her best to try and stop, to collect herself for the remaining seconds she had, but she just fought through them. “My only prayer now is that you return home safely...alive and well. I don’t care if you come back with a missing leg or in a coma - I’ll take care of you Helmut, I will, I just want you back. I need you back. Okay? I need to go now, but I just wanted to call and tell you how much I-”

The call dropping made Heike’s stomach sink. Pulling the phone away from her ear, she stared at the screen and stared mortified as the voicemail timed out. Her face contorted, squishing up as she let out another cry, holding herself tight as the emotions took over her body.

The knock at the door was drowned by the sounds of her cries, it wasn’t until she heard Carl’s sweet voice that brought her to.

“Mama? Are you in there?”

Sniffling, Heike wiped her face and moved to the door, unlocking it and opening it up before staring down at Carl, his hair messy and still in his pyjamas. He had a concerned expression on his look, one that matched Helmut’s all too well.

“Were you crying?” He asked innocently, reaching his hands up to feel the wet spots on her face. Heike could only sigh, dropping to his height as she knew lying wouldn’t help him, “Yes, my dear. I was...but I’m okay now. Okay? I am just missing your papa is all.”

Pulling Carl in for a hug, Heike held her son close, rubbing his back as he squeezed the fabric of her shirt, “When will Papa come home?” He asked sweetly.

“Soon, my dear, soon. Once he is done helping Iron Man and the rest of the Avengers, he will come home.” She smiled, feeling Carl grow giddy at the mention of the Avengers and specifically Iron Man, before clinging to his mother tighter.

“Your grandfather is making us breakfast, why don’t we go join him so he doesn’t eat alone?”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The night came quickly for the Zemo family - along with the growing destruction of Novi Grad. The streets below began to pile with cars and waste from the buildings and Heinrich went so far as to board up the windows after witnessing someone fall to their death. Whether it was purposeful or not, Heinrich wouldn’t allow Carl nor Heike to see the horrors of war - ‘least not more than they already saw.

The three of them were laying in bed together, watching old movies that were on some VHS tapes that Heike found in the closet. Carl, fast asleep in her arms, clung to his mother’s waist, while Heike, slowly began to doze off. She hadn’t been paying too much to the movie, in fact, she didn’t even know what exactly was playing, but she was happy to have enjoyed the peaceful moment, despite everything going on outside their home.

Unfortunately, the horrors did not end, and their peaceful night was soon ruined. The blood-curdling scream woke Carl awake, sending him into a crying fit while Heike held him, doing her best to calm him down while Heinrich held them both, consoling them as what he feared most soon approached them.

“I don’t want to die…” Heike whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks as she kept Carl’s face buried into her stomach. She looked up at her father-in-law, eyes red as she shook her head. Heinrich could only frown, not knowing what to say other than pull her close, letting her cry into his chest. As a realist himself, Heinrich knew the possibility of the building they were in to be targeted was high, but there was still a part of him that wished for the alternative.

The flames that flickered outside the windows signaled that there was sadly no way out. He didn’t want his grandson, nor daughter-in-law to have to go out in such a painful way, so he did what he believed was the only thing he could do - hold them close and sing a lullaby.

Heike’s face was buried tightly into Heinrich’s chest, Carl’s in his mother’s. The sound of Heinrich singing an infamous Sokovian lullaby calmed them enough to not think so hard as to what was going on around them. As the flames rose and the song continued, what came next was more painful than seeing a child cry - but the death of a child itself.

While the heavy concrete collapsed on them, they were fortunate enough to not feel the pain, dying on the direct hit. Even though there was no pain, the three still lost their lives, not having a single chance of survival - which perhaps was harder than the hit.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

May 8, 2015.

Helmut had been digging for two days. Two days since the initial end of the battle when he returned home to find the building in pieces and when the smoke cleared enough for him to be able to search. He had been told that there was no use in searching, that it would take too long to find them and he didn’t need to go through that pain...but Helmut had to be the one, he wouldn’t sit back while some stranger dug to find his family’s bodies for him.

He ignored the painful cuts that dug into his palms, the numbness in his body a shield against the physical pain he was enduring. Helmut picked up piece by piece, tossing it over his side as he furiously dug deeping into the rubble, searching for any sign of his family. He hardly slept, continuing to dig deeper in the area he imagined his family to be. The surviving members of his squad became worried quickly, unsure as to what to do in this situation. They hadn’t lost families, ‘least not in the way that Helmut lost his. Nobody could understand what he was going through, and while they wanted to help, it became clear that Helmut found it worse to have help than do it on his own.

By the early afternoon of the second day, his motions began to slow, becoming weaker as the time went on. Helmut knew he couldn’t give up though, he wouldn’t, not until he found their bodies. It was a sad prayer really, asking whomever to let him at least find their bodies, but it was one he partially wished never came true - for he wished that his family had never died in the first place.

What stopped his movements was the arm sticking out of the rubble. He recognized the watch as being his father’s and his breathing stopped, catching in his throat. This was it, this was what he had been searching for, yet at the same time was dreading. Quickly moving the rubble off of them, Helmut let out a cry when he finally uncovered the bodies, seeing his father holding his delicate wife, and his wife holding their precious son.

He didn’t know who, but one of his squad members quickly rushed to him, pulling him off the bodies as he Helmut threw himself over them, ignoring the painfully obvious state they were in. The squad member held Helmut in his arms, letting the man cry as medical members carefully made their way up onto the rubble, doing their best to carefully collect the bodies and placing them in bags to be taken away.

Helmut’s eyes stayed on the bags, watching as they were loaded into trucks and taken to the nearest area for body collection and identification after the war’s aftermath. He felt his heart racing, his head resting against his friend’s chest as he blood soon boiled.

This was their fault. The Avengers, of all places they could have chosen, decided to come to Sokovia, their home, and destroy it. Destroyed their city, their homes, and families. Glaring into the distance, Helmut continued to let the tears run silent down his cheeks. He could picture his family’s death playing in his head. How scared they must have been and for him to be where? ‘Helping’ the Avengers as they hardly helped them.

And where were they now? The Avengers? Gone. Back to their own cities, their own homes, and families. And where did that leave Sokovia? The place they decided to play war at? In ruins...destroyed into nothing - leaving Sokovia and it’s people lost and without a home.

Closing his eyes, Helmut turned his head and rested his face against his friend’s chest, clinging to the front of his shirt before letting out a painful scream, soon faltering back into sobs.

Helmut would miss Heike’s hair, how soft it felt when it finally dried after being washed.

He would miss the sound of Carl’s laughter, how eager he was to be ‘just like his papa’.

Helmut would even miss his father’s awful snoring, and how Heike would always do her best to not be frustrated in the morning when Heinrich would ask how everyone slept.

No longer would he be able to kiss his family and hold them close, but only have the memories of their souls and the voice messages to hear the sweet sounds of their voices.

This was the only way now that Helmut had any way of being with his family, through the memories. It was real enough to get by, to feel comfort while alone, but it wasn’t real enough to move on.

[darkstarnight02]

Why the Akuma Class Doesn’t Trusts Lila Rossi

Nino

This dude is a loyal friend

Like, he’s also a loyal boyfriend, so it’s hard when his girlfriend is siding with Lila

But he’s the one who’s like

“Dudes, we’ve known Mari for years there’s no way she would do the stuff this new girl we’ve known for five minutes says she did.”

He and Kim and Mari were besties since preschool, I think we all know that.  

Adrien

I hate it when people say he tries to defend her with the high road crap

When he sees her hurting people, especially Marinette

Because lets be honest, he cares about her alot

He’s less forgiven

Like do y’all remember the “BeCaUsE We’Re FrIeNdS, aReN’t We?”

So he’s not going to try and make her life miserable

But he is going to try to get her to stop

Chloé

Let’s be honest, she never liked Lila in the first place.  

So Imma give y’all bonus “how she figured out everyone’s identities”

So once she became friends with Marinette

Cause they formed a “we hate Lie-la” alliance

(tho since Mari’s still friends with the others its kinda awkward)

Chloe’s pretty smart.  

Like, she totally could have figured it out before they became friends

But she would never have believed back then that Mari-trash was Ladybug, her idol (and lesbian awakening, lesbihonest)

But now that she’s friends with her, it’s way too obvious

And she definitely already knew about Adrien because these guys are besties

And, dudes, she never had a crush on him, she was just an overprotective best friend

And a very touchy one

To her, it’s all pretty obvious.  

She thinks that its just whatever magic thats blinding everyone of the obvious, its immune to (like low-key Rachel Dare here)

But Sabine, Tom, and Jagged probably know to because they’re all Kings and Queens.  

So Chloe figures everyone out pretty quickly.  

Sabrina

She trust Chloe more than anyone.  

But I’m not just gonna use that because its kinda boring.  

Tho Chloe is her bi crush so that definitely helps secure loyalties

Its only when Marinette becomes MDC that she realizes

and yes, Sabrina probably knows because Chloe and she also recognizes the designs from some stuff she has in her own closet.  

So anyway, she realizes Mari is MDC and she’s some famous designer and Lila is not

And Mari also knows Jagged and Clara and a whole bunch of other famous people

And she never brags about it but there’s proof that she knows them

while Lila always brags about it but she’s never been mentioned and no one knows her.  

Alya

I hate it when people say she totally sides with Lila.  

This girl knows that her bestie never lies(or at least thinks)

and some things with Lila don’t add up.  

Like she doesn’t check directly if what Lila says is true

But she’ll be doing research for something else and see’s that it contradicts something that Lila said.  

So she’ll do more research and try to figure more stuff out

And she’s like holy f*ck nothing Lila says is true.

Or, alternatively, for those of you who have watched season 4

She immediately realizes Lila’s a liar right after Marinette tells her she’s Ladybug.  

Marinette

No explanation needed.  

Mylène

Mylene notices when Lila insults one of her classmates one day.  

Even if its subtle, or just piping on the edge of her blaming Marinette for something, she notices it.  

And a good person wouldn’t say something like that,  

Like Chloe, they all expect something like that from

No one every really liked Chloe in the first place

And Mari never says anything rude

Sure, she gets angry at Chloe and Lila sometimes, and she tries to prove what they say is wrong, but she never directly attacks someone.  

I don’t know who Lila was being a bitch to this time, but it cost her a follower.  

Alix

This girl is probably one of the most Gen Z kids in the Akuma Class, which is pretty sad because they’re all supposed to be Gen Z. 

She can smell bullcrap from a mile away

Not to mention the little hints older Bunnyx drops whenever she visits.  

With the mix of her being the future miraculous holder of time and being the daughter of a historian, she’s very aware of history and timelines and cause and effects and chain reactions

So when Marinette starts ‘acting up’ she tries to find when her personality switched over

And even if she seems more like a background character, this aro/ace queen always seems to know your secrets. 

So even before she knew Lila was a phony, she knew that Mari was MDC and that Jagged Stone was Juleka and Luka’s dad

So she definitely figured some stuff out that way

Honestly, next to Chloe, Alix was probably one of the first people to figgure out Mari’s identity.  

She’s a detective to rival batman

Ivan

I think Lila would make some sort of rift between him and Mylene.  

He loves her so much and it would be so hard

And mari and her friends would help him out

and he would see the truth

They wouldn’t like break up or anything

But he can just tell immediately when someone’s being a bad person.  

Kim

Probably something similar to Nino

But I think it’d be a bit more like he’s totally a die-hard fan of some of Marinette’s connections or some of Marinette’s work itself

And when he puts the pieces together its like everything makes sense in the world.  

He really feels super stupid afterwards.  

Ondine probably slaps him for not trusting his childhood best friend before some bitchy new girl.  

Max

This is the smartest dude in class

He made a f*cking robot with emotions you can’t tell me he doesn’t figure Lila out.  

A part of me believes that in the first episode with Lila when they were all waiting on her hand and foot they were probably aware that she was kind of delusional, but were giving into it the way you give into the tales of a six year old.  

Like ‘yeah, okay sweetie.  Sure’.  

I mean, at least that’s why Max went along with the napkin thing, because there’s no other excuse for that whole incident.  

Nathaniel

I don’t totally know how he figured her out, but I love the idea of her saying that she can introduce him to the creator of the Ladybug Comics.  

They actually sit next to each other in class, so he definitely is more aware of her weird behavior than others.

And since he’s an artist he’s very observant, always noticing things like her facial expressions and what seems more exaggerated than real.  

And we all know how kwami-damned done Nathaniel is with the class, so he probably knew all along.  

Not to mention that since the rest of the school is less submissive to Lila’s lies, Marc probably pointed it out to him at some point.  

There’s also the idea that since Nathaniel is pretty much never mentioned anymore, the class forgets about him and he ends up having to spend some time with Marinette and the other outcasts

In which he realizes that they are actually good people.  

Honestly, Nathaniel probably knew all along but he’s just not a drama queen about it so Lila never bothered him.  

Rose

Girls besties with Prince Ali, one of the key components of Lila’s lies

She definitely does not want to believe that someone is capable of so much evil, and she definitely gets Akumatized when she figures it out

She goes through a lot of denial but is eventually convinced.  

Juleka

Her dad is Jagged Stone, also another key component of Lila’s lies.  

After becoming Tigris Pourpre, the holder of the tiger miraculous (that’s canon in the future), she gets a little bit more invested in cat culture

And omfg I just realized that both of our models are kittens and I just wanna DIE because that’s so cute.  

And honestly now that I’m thinking about it if she was a celebrity she would totally take after Jagged and have an emotional support tiger like Princess Jasmine. 

ANYWAY, I’m kinda getting off topic here.  

So she asks Jagged about his cat, and he’s like 

“wtf I’ve never had a cat why would I have a cat I have FANG my CROCODILE”

And she’s like but your cat...

And he’s like “Jules, darling, I wrote a song about how I replaced my family with a guitar and I have three instagrams for Fang, why would I have a feline animal?”

And she’s just like

....

And honestly she probably already knew some sh*t was up before that

Because Luka obviously, despite only having met Lila, like, once, probably, dislikes Lila severely

And also Juleka is more of an observer than a do-er so she probably saw that some stuff was up.  

[spasmsofthought]

milk + instagram live (t.h.)

I traveled to London (and Oxford), England in March of 2019 for my spring break my sophomore year of university, so some things mentioned here are entirely from personal experience, so please don’t hate me if you’ve experienced something different! I stayed at a hotel in between West Kensington and West Brompton (a few blocks away from West Brompton Station) and one day some family members and I decided to attend a local showing at a cinema nearby and it was SO. DIFFERENT. than the theaters I had been to in the States. IDK, maybe it was just me. The entire experience was like culture shock again in the few days I had been there, so I had to bring that up in this little piece. Also the thing about milk is something I have genuinely wondered about, cause I’ve heard it’s different in England than it is in the USA, but I may be wrong. Let me know! Anyways, I have big love for London (and supreme love for Oxford, sorry) and I’m looking forward to going back someday soon! 

The reader is non-celebrity and American, so I’m sorry if that feels exclusionary to any of you, honestly! I thought this might be just a little fun jaunt because I don’t really write real person fiction. Just a bit of fluff. 

Sorry for this long intro. Enjoy and let me know what you think! xo  

Word Count: ~1.5k 

+ + + 

It’s some sort of exclusive interview for a magazine or something of the sort, you’ve been told; a collection of questions they want you to answer to publish somewhere, to print as something special for one of Tom’s things. That’s all you know. It’s just something you agreed to do after his publicist had asked a few weeks ago. It wasn’t like you did this for a living, so there was an attitude of nonchalance about it all because if they ended up not liking it one bit, they could scrap it all and no harm, no foul. 

“Now,” the interviewer begins, a man in his 40′s with balding hair and a slightly crooked nose, sitting in the chair across from you, “I know you just announced that you got married, so congratulations, firstly--” 

“Oh, thank you,” hands folded on your lap, smiling sweetly. You know people want their well-wishes to be heard and recorded, but sometimes it’s easy to imagine a completely private life, fame free, in which this isn’t the biggest news in the world (or just the biggest news for a day in the entertainment industry in the United States and England); a life where this is just a normal thing that normal people decide on, there’s a celebration, and that’s really it. It’s not splashed on newspapers and trending on Twitter, even though that can be a fun thing. 

“I’ve been really happy these last few months since we got married and was excited to tell all of Tom’s Instagram followers,” there’s a break for a small laugh from you, “There’s been such an abundance of well wishes from everyone and I’ve felt so incredibly lucky because I know not every woman who has been in my position has recieved such a reception.” 

The interviewer gives a move of his head in recognition of your words, but his eyes are already flying down the paper he holds in front of him, “There have been quite a few changes that have happened, I’ve been informed, and the first is that you decided to move to London!” 

“Ha, yes,” you begin, nodding, “Not only did I just completely intertwine my life with another person’s, but I moved to an entirely new country. There’s definitely a lot of culture shock that has happened these past few months.” 

The interviewer kind of chortles along with you, but the awkwardness has already settled in and you can feel it because you are the literal worst at small talk. And that’s all this interview is. 

“Any cons you’ve listed already about residing here amongst us?” 

“Oh no,” you groan dramatically, trying to lighten up the mood, a hand coming to cover your eyes for a moment, “you have to promise not to tell my husband, because I do have a few things actually.” 

“I make no promises, as this interview will be completely up for grabs,” The man holds up his hands and you’re a little disappointed that he doesn’t seem to want to play along with the joke. 

You brush it off, though, because he’s either nervous or he’s here for a few questions to be answered and then he wants to be out of here. You get it; you have a job, too, that sometimes squeezes the patience out of you. 

“Well for one, the local cinemas are just set up so different than the ones I went to all the time in the States. I still have to prepare myself for the experience every time,” there’s a little bit of an awkward pause. 

“We have different cinemas?” He asks, like he’s suspecting something more; something deeper. Maybe he wants something more scandalous? You nod along, though, smiling softly at his confusion. It has always felt funny trying to explain this. 

“And I miss people smiling at me in public, on the tube or in the more crowded public spaces where I don’t really know anyone. People are literally so lovely when they invite me into their homes to eat with them and stuff like that, but I’ve only got one reaction from someone for smiling at them. Most of them just stare for a second or ignore me entirely! I don’t know, maybe it’s just me.” 

He shrugs, not quite sure what to say to that, because he’s not at fault for it. It seems most people know what you’re talking about when you say this and you’ve garnered that it’s a cultural thing for the most part. You don’t fault anyone for it. 

“Also,” your hand comes to scratch at a place above your left eyebrow, “I know this is weird, and I don’t even know if it’s entirely true, but I haven’t drank milk in the months since I’ve moved here because I heard in America that milk is made differently here or something like that. I haven’t been able to gather up the courage to find out if it’s true or not, and I mostly drink water or juice or whatever else so my husband hasn’t bat an eye yet. I just don’t want to ruin my previous experience with milk,” You shrug your shoulders and laugh. Your hands come unclasped and you hold them out in a surrender-like gesture. 

Your final answer seems to startle the interviewer, because his laugh is surprised and maybe a bit shocked and leaves just as quickly as it came. The rest of the short conversation, lasting only a few more minutes, continues smoothly. After sitting around in the office for a little while longer, you are free from the place and from (hopefully) ever having to do this again without Tom. Your schedule is blissfully empty for the rest of the day, a Saturday, so you eventually make your way home. 

- - 

“What’s this I hear about your fear of English milk?” The door opens first and then the voice follows. 

Of course, that would be the first thing he says to you after a whole day of not seeing each other. 

“Good evening, darling, how was your day?” You quip from the couch, what’s left of your cup of tea gone cold on the coffee table parallel to it. “Oh my day was fine, Tom. I’m glad you’re the one who does the regular rounds with the press, not me, because I was so awkward today. How was yours?” 

You hear his keys clink against something, probably the kitchen counter, and then the rustle of a bag. It takes a second but then you see his hands grip to top of the sofa as he leans down towards you. There’s a quick kiss that comes before he rights himself. The marital bliss has not faded away yet given that adoring look in his eyes. It is the same look he gave you standing right across from you the day of your wedding, the same one you saw four months ago on your honeymoon, and the one he gave you last night while getting ready for bed as he brushed his teeth. 

“I got something from the shop on my way home,” He wiggles his eyebrows and you know some part of you saw this coming from a mile away. 

You know now that the shop means the grocery store because a few months ago you had asked him what the term meant (“it’s so vague, though,” “darling, I’m not going to waste my breath calling it the ‘grocery store.’”). (There are still many British terms you have yet to learn.) You allow yourself to sit up and then turn around to meet him as your knees come to dig into the cushions. Now you both are almost at the same height. 

“God, I hate you,” You chuckle, leaning towards him. 

“The ring on your finger says otherwise, love,” You roll your eyes but then press an elongated kiss to his lips. There’s a few moments where he gets some in down your neck and behind your ear before he pulls away. 

“C’mon,” He says, pulling your arms and almost vaulting you over the couch and onto the cold, hard floor, “to the kitchen we go! You need to drink some milk.” It takes a few more minutes for you both to actually get there, but then he grabs the carton from the bag and a glass from a kitchen cupboard. 

He pours a little at the bottom of the glass, not even filling it up a quarter of the way. Part of you wants to shudder, part of you is feeling adventurous enough to be excited. But then he pulls his phone from the pocket of his jeans and asks if he can go live on Instagram. For a moment you consider saying no, simply because you’re not sure if you want to open yourself up to the world of Tom’s Instagram followers watching you try your first taste of non-American milk, but then you decide “why not?” It can’t do any real harm, right? 

Tom hands the glass to you and you place it on the counter in front of you as you sit down at a stool. You can see the moment on his face the live video starts and a second later he quickly explains the situation. 

It does not take you much longer to become a viral internet meme.  

[alecxaheart]

Sunshower | Lee Felix Oneshot

✎ Genre : Friends to Lovers AU, Idol AU, Fluff, Angst

✎ Pairings : Lee Felix X Reader

✎ Word Count : 2.5k words

✎ Synopsis : We all know that sunshines together with the rainfall makes a rainbow. And that is exactly like how you fell for the freckled sunshine.

✎ Warnings : Explicit Language

✎. . . Sudden change of plans for the title. :P Enjoy!

In an early afternoon, Felix had to stop by for lunch at this wonderful bakery near the Hangang Park. Where they serve many delicacies such as bars, breads, desserts, cookies, muffins, and more. His personal favorite was their fudgy brownie bites, so favored that he's inspired to make one of his own.

As soon as he opened the door to the bakery, he felt the stress he had from practice a while ago were completely relieved. The bakery gave off a warm welcome when he stepped in. Contrasting to the cold breeze of autumn outside. The aroma of newly baked goods lingered around the room that it felt like Felix's being lured immediately to the cashier. It almost smelled like heaven, thought of Felix.

The moment that he got his desired lunch in his hands, he took a seat near the window. He savored each bite of the pastry, eyes rolling to the back of his head at it's deliciousness. Although a ring from his phone interrupted him from his feast.

" Oi Felix, " Chan greeted as soon as he answered his call. Felix first dabbed his mouth with the provided tissue before replying to Chan, " What's up? ".

While he's into the conversation with his friend, something – or rather someone on the streets captured his eyes. You were aimlessly running after a piece of paper caught in the wind. The breeze carrying locks of your silk hair. Your eyes reflecting the sun and eyebrows knitted as you continue to struggle. When the time that you've had it in your hold came, you accidentally slipped on the autumn leaves. Causing you to painfully land on your butt. A groan fell out of your lips as you rubbed your butt to ease the pain. All of the commotion that Felix saw from you made him break out a giggle, which left his friend confused on the other line.

" Ah yeah, yeah. Let's defo have a barbie this arvo. "

Felix thought that you were adorable.

" (Y/N)? " Called out by the person on the other line as soon as you picked up the call. Your phone was pressed against your right ear while you continued searching for the remote underneath the pillows. It surely has been a while since the last time you interacted with your boyfriend, Park Jongsuk, and God knows how much you missed him. Just hearing his soothing voice at this moment sent butterflies into your stomach. His voice is enough for you to make your day better. " Yes, love? " You asked, smiling to yourself. Also noticing how his tone sounded more requesting. As much as you wanted to beam at him a ' good afternoon ' and ask how is he, you decided not to.

Once you've found the remote to your television, you turned the volume down so that your conversation with him wouldn't be interrupted. You've been just passing some time by watching Netflix for about a week now. Actually, not only for passing time but it is even for avoiding yourself to overthink your current situation - especially about your relationship status with Jongsuk.

" Could we.. " He first trailed off for a moment, contemplating if he should persist with the plan. " Could we meet up later? " That question alone made you joyful and excited, smiling from ear to ear. You give him your enthusiastic approval before ending your call by telling one another that you're both anticipating for your meet up. Turning off the television, you were off to your room to fix yourself. Afterall, this is your first meet up with him ever since the day you were parted by long distance — that's been like roughly 8 months. Him achieving his dreams as a model and actor, away from your home country, Australia. He did brought you with him though. The first months you shared the same apartment, every moment filled with happiness and love.

That is until everything drifted apart. It began with him moving to a dorm nearby and supported by his Entertainment. His weekend visits turned to none at all. Everything that became a habit with him vanished one by one. Leaving you only with memories. But it seems like today's the day you'll start to get everything back.

Oh how you are so oblivious to your bittersweet fate.

Arriving to the said location, Hangang Park. It runs through thousands of miles and has many parks along the way. An environment friendly place for people to enjoy nature, sports, foods, entertainments, fountains, and more. You personally just adore how comforting it is to be there and to have a breath-taking sight of Han River, especially at night. Every locals and tourists savor their time to be here the same as you do. Although as of today, you couldn't help but notice that the park isn't as packed as it usually is.

You sat down on a nearby bench, waiting for Jongsuk to make an appearance. He did told you to come in the late afternoon and you did get there in time. Leaning onto the bench, you let out a sigh. Eyes finding itself staring at the sky covered with gray clouds. The cold wind crashing into your figure, making you shiver. You were sure that you checked today's weather forecast before leaving your household, told you that it'll just be a cloudy day.

Children's hearty laughs soon began turning to murmurs and whispers. The sound of silverware and plates clinking rang through your ears. It sounded like the family's starting to pack up and clean up their picnic space. " Come on, let's go! " Called out by a woman in her late 20's, assumming that she's the mother. You grew anxious when you noticed how everyone seemed to abandon you alone. Why is everybody departing out of the blue? You've just arrived.

" (Y/N), " You heard your own name being mentioned and it came from  behind you. Recognizing the owner of the cordial tone of his voice, you turned around to meet a pair of eyes wearing misty gray contact lenses. Seeing him washed away all of your worries. Your heart's about to instantly jump out of your chest due to the fact that it's filled with pure happiness. Unconsciously smiling brightly at him.

" Love! " Running towards him, you hugged his tall form securely. Mumbling the words, " I missed you. "

However, to your surprise, he never returned the hug. In fact, Jongsuk gently removed your arms around his waist. " (Y/N), I missed you too, " He started, crouching a little bit to face you better. " Although I have something to tell you. Something important, that's why I came. " Something's starting to creep into your guts. As if it's warning you that there's something off about today. He stated that but he never smiled back at you ever since he made an appearance. Plus, he always addresses you by your real name. Not your shared endearment which is strange.

You hummed in response, your smile slowly fading from your lips. " What is it? " Jongsuk saw how your eyes sparkled with hope. He knows that you're yearning for him to tell you that your gut feeling is wrong. Which made him more guilty for what he's about to do.

" (Y/N), let's.. " He hesitated, hating the fact that he has to see you in this state. However, he does know better for what's best for the both of you. " Let's end this here. " To be better off with someone else. Those words were enough to shatter your heart into million of pieces. Your face fully turning into a gloomy countenance with a hint of confusion. Your lips starting to quiver. For a second, you were frozen into place. You dislike how you couldn't control yourself right now.

" I'm sorry, we just didn't work out anymore. " He continued. Thoughts were flooded with denial, that this is happening at this very moment or you must've misheard everything. But no, Jongsuk's facial expression says it all.

" I understand, " Your voice sounded brittle, holding back the tears. Pity is one of the things that's written on his face. That's the least thing you wanted from anyone, to pity you. As if it's telling that you're incapable of overcoming the worst situations in life, that you're fragile and being belittled. And you clearly despise it. " I'll take my leave now. "

With that, you walked away from him. Your arms found itself wrapping around your own figure, trying your best to calm down. Your mixed emotions of fury and agony almost getting the best of you. Although each second that's passing is killing you. Heart aching, lips quivering, you were just in the worst state ever. And once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Resulting you to run away aimlessly. To wherever your feet may take you.

One drop, two drops fell from the skies that made you slow down until you come to a total halt. You looked up to the sky, seeing it covered with dark clouds. A droplet landed on your cheek, a simple gesture from the heavens of wiping off your tears and you'd like to think of it that way. It wasn't long after the drizzle transitioned to a downpour. As if the heavens are crying and mourning with one of its beloved (you) at what tragedy it witnessed. Unfortunately, you haven't brought your umbrella with you due to the fact that you believed at the false weather forecast. So, you let yourself get drenched in the rain. Not giving any piece of shit about the aftermath. You're currently already exhausted and under the weather.

You closed your eyes, body shivering to the cold air being left out from under the showering water. For a few minutes, you stayed there. Not even minding any comments from the people passing by. That is until you didn't feel the rain landing on your body out of the blue. Strange that you could feel a warm presence to your right. However, you could still hear water coming in contact with the pavement.

When you've parted your eyelids, you were greeted by a black fabric instead of gray clouds. " G'day mate, " A familiar deep voice laced with Australian accent greeted. Glancing to your left, he beamed a sweet smile at you. It was as warm, bright and blinding as the sunshine that it could possibly change the whole weather. To be honest, he's the least man you expected to see today since you thought he's as busy as your ex-boyfriend was.

Lee Felix.

" You know you'll get ill with what you're doing and that's least thing I wanna know from my mate. So, that's defo a no no from me, " He pointed out, handing you his umbrella. You timidly accepted it anyway, hand brushing pass his warm ones. Eyes instantly staring at the wet pavement as soon as it's in your grasp. Sighing, Felix took his jacket off and placed it on top of your shoulders. He also handed you a handkerchief after that, receiving a small thank you from you. Then took the umbrella handle back into his grip.

" You know, your ex-boyfriend's a dick, " That being stated by Felix, you let out a belly laugh while drying your face. Seeing your face lit up also made him laugh with you. Ever since the beginning, you both just clicked when Jongsuk first introduced him to you. The time one of you spoke the first " Aussie, Aussie, Aussie! " call, you felt the connection between the two of you while harmonizing at " Oi, Oi, Oi! ". And honestly, he's better at handling long distance friendships than your ex-boyfriend was. He made sure that he gives time for your friendship despite of his busy schedule from being an Idol. Which is impressive because that's just friendship, what more if he's in a relationship?

" I'm sorry, it's just – That came out from you very unexpectedly. I never saw that coming but I like the change. " You chuckled, now walking down the streets with Felix.

" Well, it's still true though, " Felix began, taking out his favorite fudgy brownies he bought from Sunny's. " How could he be so impatient and ghosted you for straight 8 months? And love is known to be patient. He let himself get defeated just by distance. " He took a bite at the brownie, chewing it thoroughly before continuing. " I even heard rumors of him and this make-up artist from his drama recently. "

" What the fuck, " You cursed under your breath, the last part surprising you. Avoiding the chances of you overthinking, you shook your head then changed the topic. " So you're admitting that you've been spying on me, huh? "

" Hey, it's not my fault that I was at Sunny's because my stomach's craving again for those pastries when I witnessed it, " Felix defended, earning a hum as a response from you.

" Though, it felt like I was watching a K-drama, " He jokingly added which ended with you smacking him upside the head playfully.

Reaching back home, you invited Felix for dinner and he gladly accepted the offer. As long as you agreed to his terms of conditions. Let him play League Of Legends on your PC and buffalo wings for dinner.

Coming out of the bathroom fully dressed and hair slightly damped, you saw Felix already busy playing on your PC. The headphones plugged into his ears. You're probably gonna kill him if you found out that he gave you a losing streak. Leaving the room, you went down to the kitchen. Preparing his desired meal. As you were doing so, you occasionally heard faint screams from upstairs which made you chuckle. It was quite odd how well Felix knows to immediately make your day better. Like as if nothing, no tragedy, ever happened earlier.

By the time you called Felix for dinner, he dashed down the flight of stairs and towards the dining area. His eyes sparkled and mouth almost drooling at the delicious sight plus taste of the meal. He didn't hesitate to dig in, taking one into his lips and you followed. While eating, Felix's eyes landed on a picture frame unintentionally, making him glare at it. " You should find someone better, " He suggested, his chocolate orbs meeting your own.

When you're always this close to him, you could see his charming points well. From his distinctive features to his gorgeous freckles. You still continued to believe that it was a constellation map drawn by the Gods so that people could never forget what the heavens looked like especially on cloudy days like today. It must've took a lot of patience, dedication and love to sculpt him. How blessed he is to be one of God's greatest masterpiece. Maybe, the heavens loves you so much that they sent him for you. Afterall, the heavens did show affection to you in a form of rainfall.

" Yeah, as if there's someone as better as you. " You murmured while continuing to feast onto the meal. However, Felix heard it clearly.

" Hmm.. " Felix pondered for a moment, chin resting on top of his hands. " Too bad there's only one of me. "

" Although this one does like you. "

End.