#her ass is not normal about platonic relationship based games

[time-for-crows]

Thinking about ashe again. It feels right for her to like those kinda slice of life type games and visual novels where the protag tries to get used to a new school or find love or something. She would like other stuff too but. I think she would find some of the plot boring but guiding or living as the protag and finding friends and stuff would be interesting to her. For normal reasons of course. They aren’t fantasy games but they are to her.

[frankcastlescumslut]

Ch. 2: Hard Times

pairing: frank castle x f!reader / platonic!amy bendix x f!reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: angst, language, hurt/comfort, implied loss of a sister (no details), descriptions of wounds, established relationship yet somehow it’s a slow burn

summary: He somehow reached across space and time to tell you the words you wished you had heard that night: you didn’t do anything wrong. None of this is on you. Frank had become a god, transcending the laws of physics to piece you together with sutures and sympathies.

A/N: I wrote this chapter based off of this song. loosely. sorry this isn’t the happiest of endings, I’m leaving it open ended in case I get the momentum to keep going (there is a potential plot).

[previous chapter]

I love your feedbacks and comments so much, thank you. reblogs help a lot as well <3

The stars looked like pin pricks against a dark sheet, so bright you had to squint to make sense of your surroundings, but there was nothing to make sense of. Just black asphalt laid out like a red carpet.

Your body ached and groaned as you stretched ever so slightly, and Frank pretended not to notice the way you winced when you pulled your shirt from your dried wound. 

He cleared his throat, trying to distract you. “Mornin’.”

“Mornin’,” you yawned, checking the dashboard. 

1:42am. 

The last time you stopped was somewhere in Ohio at a run down 7-Eleven. Amy threatened to jump out of the van if she didn’t get a slurpee, but you couldn’t really blame her, it did sound good, so Frank was outnumbered like he usually was. 

That was hours ago, though, and you found Amy curled against the duffle bags with a ring of blue food dye around her lips.

“How far are we?” You prodded. 

“Few hours.” 

“Oh.”

Frank was a man of few words when he first met you. It took him three days just to ask you for an extra blanket when he met you at that motel in Nebraska, though he chalked it up to his unnatural ability for needing something. Didn’t wanna bother you.

You were patient with him, never pressing him about the occasional bruise or poorly hidden glances, instead choosing to talk about how vending machine chips are basically just bags full of air and how mattress stores are money laundering operations—he laughed at that, fully and with his chest, and it was game over for you both. 

Yet somehow you were sitting within a foot of each other and felt like strangers. 

“Do you want me to drive?” You offered, daring to look at him. He looked worn, his eyes drooping with sleep.

“No,” he answered too quickly. “I’m okay.” 

“Maybe we should stop somewhere?”

He was silent, unwilling to admit defeat. Stoic. Stubborn. A pain in the ass that kept you awake with a fevering bullet shaped gash in your side. 

You would make yourself power through the pain if it meant he would be normal again—if he would even look at you for more than a second and without what you perceived as disdain. You would pretend that each day you had Amy didn’t feel like salt being shoved into your sister-sized wound. You would lie through your teeth and tell him that you were capable of keeping up, that this life was enough for you. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. 

“We’ll stop at the next motel.” He looked over at you, his eyes trailing towards the rust colored stain on your shirt. Your cheeks burned underneath his gaze, and all you could do was nod in reply and watch the constellations blur. 

“Wake up.” A breathy voice tickled your ear, causing you to jolt upright in your seat.

“Damn it!” You cursed before placing a palm against your sternum, ignoring the way the seatbelt burned against your exposed neck.

Amy was pleased by your reaction, carelessly falling back into her designated makeshift seat of a jacket tucked against the back of your chair. Frank didn’t crack a smile. 

“Knock it off,” he warned, his eyes quickly darting towards the backseat. 

“Oh come on,” Amy whined. “It was funny.” 

“I actually disagree,” you chimed in, your heartbeat still racing. 

“You’re no fun.” She pouted, slouching against the hard interior. 

Frank would disagree, though. You were fun. Charismatic. Lighthearted. 

He missed that version; the one where you existed alongside of him with ease, the one where you convinced him that joy existed and was accessible to people like him, to people like the both of you. 

It felt foreign to him, the easiness of it all, but he gave up rejecting his need for self denial when he met you. Because you were fun. 

“We’re stopping soon,” he cleared his throat and those distant memories of you, and you nodded with a “k.” 

“I have to pee,” Amy broke her secret vow of silence, probably just to hear herself speak. 

“Hold it,” you and Frank spoke in unison, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

You often wondered what he was like as a dad. If he was the silent and stern parent, always fussing with light fixtures and the underside of a truck. Maybe the kind that cared a lot about grades but even more about after school sports or school projects. Really, you think, he’s the kind of parent that just enjoys his children’s joy, never getting in the way of what was causing it— a winning soccer match, a new video game, a carousel. It didn’t matter anymore, anyways, and you were too scared to ask him about it. 

So you didn’t, and you don’t. You never do, because you’re not really sure what you would say if he ever asked about your sister. Some things are better to be speculatory, you decided, until Amy came along. 

She acted like a secret maneuver that would draw back the curtain on what Frank Castle was like as a father, and you seldom looked away. 

“Sheesh,” she muttered, and you hid a smirk behind the palm of your hand. 

It was silent for the next few miles, save the occasional clanging of weapons every time the van fell victim to a pothole. It was silent even as Frank drove past the first motel. Then the second one… and the third. 

Amy eventually caught on, sitting on her knees and looking out the window like a dog with its ears flapping in the wind. 

“Where are we going?” she asked. 

Frank was quiet, eyes still straight ahead, even as he pulled into the parking lot of a neon green Holiday Inn. 

“A hotel!” Amy squealed, throwing herself in Frank’s general direction, ignorant to the way the car swerved due to her affections. 

He watched you from above Amy’s head, thankful she was blocking the smirk on his face as your brows furrowed in his direction, silently asking are you sure? 

He was sure. He had made up his mind hundreds of miles ago when he first saw the blood soaked cotton of your shirt, but he wouldn’t dare to tell you. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Amy let out a sigh of relief, loud enough that it was dramatic even for her. 

Frank was silent as he dug around in a back pocket before handing you a thick wad of cash. You failed to meet his eye as you accepted the offering, opting to nod with a tight lipped smile as a thank you. 

“Get the biggest bed you can get!” Amy called out to you before the door swung shut in her face. 

She pulled herself into the passenger seat and sat back with a huff and a genuine smile on her face. Finally, she thought. 

Frank’s eyes were trained on the entrance of the hotel. He watched you pull your jacket across your body, attempting to hide your ghastly appearance, as you leaned against the counter. The woman at the front seemed reasonable, he assumed. You both smiled at one another, so things must be okay. 

“Frank,” Amy attempted to disrupt his attention 

“Not now.” 

She watched the way he studied you, almost disgusted by the way he withheld his care and affection from you. 

“Frank,” she tried again.

“What?” He snapped, finally meeting her gaze. 

“You really need to fix whatever this,” she pointed a finger from his chest to the hotel lobby, “is. It’s a little ridiculous.”

“There’s nothing to fix.” He straightened ever so slightly.

“Bullshit.” 

He was thankful she dropped the conversation when she did. It wasn’t that he was unwilling to admit there was a palpable tension, he just didn’t know how to fix it. He thought the hotel would be evident enough that he was sorry, but you pulled the door open a little too roughly for that to be the case. 

“Here,” you handed him a rectangular card.

“Two keys?” Amy asked. 

“That’s for your room. I got my own.”

“What?!” She scoffed and Frank clenched his jaw.  “Are you serious?” 

“I’m right next door.” You began to unload the van, carefully slinging a heavy bag around your good side. You tried your best to hide your inconspicuous smile, but it was harder the more you thought about the king sized bed assigned to you. 

Amy and Frank trodden heavily behind you as you made your way through the empty lobby and towards the elevators, not without waving towards the kind faced woman at the front desk. 

“You’re actually leaving me alone with him?“

“You'll be fine, Amy.” You rested your head against the back of the elevator wall, closing your eyes in surrender as the metal doors slid together. 

“That’s not fair,” she whined; you half expected her to start stomping her feet. 

“Life ain’t fair,” Frank finished the argument as the elevator came to a bumpy halt. You barely opened your eyes to glance at him, surprised at the way he nods, as if giving you permission to be alone. 

You aren’t sure why you became shy and why your cheeks warmed. Maybe it was the way his eyes had softened ever so slightly, or maybe it was the gratification of him acknowledging you made a sound decision for once—that you were capable, even after your extreme fuck up just hours earlier. Either way, the softness lingered as you found your rooms. 

The cool air hit Frank’s face as a pleasant surprise, though the cleanliness, the luxury, felt burdensome.

“You have to apologize.” Amy claimed her bed, minding the way her sneakers dirtied the white sheets.

“Yeah?” He huffed, remembering he should be offended by your lack of appreciation for the new scenery. “For what exactly?”

“You’re being a dick!” She exclaimed, slapping her hands against her crossed legs. “I’m serious, Frank. It’s my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” he sighed.

“Okay, great, then stop blaming her for it.”

“I’m not.” 

“Sure.” 

The hum of the air conditioning filled the room as Frank stood awkwardly, thrumming his fingers along his thigh while Amy pretended not to notice.

“‘I shouldn’t have left you alone, okay?” He leaned against an empty dresser, still unwilling to find comfort in the queen-sized mattress. 

“She did what you couldn’t do,” Amy mumbled and he grit his jaw in response. “I was the one that called for pizza, okay? I wasn’t thinking. It was on me and I’m still alive, so go say you’re sorry.” 

Being still was a foreign concept for Frank. He was constantly moving, hard wired for productivity and precision, scoffing at the mere idea of rest. His neurons exploded even in his sleep, unable to ignore the zap zap zap that kept him moving, kept him alert, kept him alive. It kept you alive.

He ran through the numerous possibilities and outcomes of apologizing to you in his overtired head, filtering through his own remorse and your indignation. 

Fuck it, he decided, ending his marathon around the room. 

“Don't call anyone. Don’t move from this bed. Don’t answer the phone and don’t answer the goddamn door,” he placed his hands on his hips, emphasizing his seriousness. “Understand?” 

“Roger that.” Amy saluted him as he neared the door, unable to hide her smile. “Use protection!”

Just as his hand reached the handle, he paused. “What did you just say?” She audibly laughed at the mixture of disgust and genuine shock plastered against his face. 

“Go kiss and make up!” She shooed him away, and she swore she saw him smile before he disappeared.  

The bathroom mirror shook in a steady succession following the slams of heavy doors. It was constant, and you almost considered complaining before remembering that this was a luxury compared to your previous hideaways. 

It wasn’t always so bad, though. Before Amy, it was exciting— like a cheap thrill that you hadn’t felt since you were 16, sneaking out of a bedroom window and choking down a stale cloud of smoke. There was a monumental lack of pessimism between you and Frank; he brought life back into you, and for once you didn’t feel guilty for living. 

So you accepted the cheap motels and fried foods, never minding the greasy-lipped kisses. You welcomed the sun beaming on your bare feet when they laid across the dash as you drove nowhere. You loved the way your stomach felt full as you drank a beer, pretending you weren’t hiccuping while Frank sunk an 8 ball in a top right pocket. You loved the nights spent in a dirty dive bar where you didn’t have to think about who the fuck you were for at least a few hours. You loved it, and then he told you to run before bullets started flying. 

The knock on the door was so faint you almost missed it over the sound of your cursing. 

It was him—you knew it was him. He had an aura so thick it bled through walls. 

“Y’gonna open the door?” 

No. 

Maybe.

The door opened with a metallic click, though you didn’t care to hold it open. He shoved himself inside, feeling like an intruder. 

You studied your irritated wound in the mirror, continuing your attempts at cleaning and suturing it. The sting of the alcohol wipes hardly compared to the pair of eyes transfixed on the evidence of your failures. 

“You okay?” What a stupid question. 

“Fine.” What a stupid question. 

Fine. It wasn’t a complete lie, though you avoided meeting his gaze at all costs. He could see right through you, hell, he could feel the resentment radiating off of you. 

You didn’t have to distract yourself from the emotional distance; your attention was spent on unwrapping the much too small steri strip from its packaging to notice the way he awkwardly balanced his weight. 

“Shit,” you cursed as the first suture folded over on itself.

“Do you need—“

“I got it.” 

You really tried, but it was impossible to see the wound over the mound of your breast, and you could hardly twist your waist enough to get a decent angle. You decided to go in blind, completely embarrassed but unwilling to admit defeat. 

The sticky strip landed incorrectly, directly atop of the ragged flesh, and you yelped as it adjusted. 

“Let me get that,” he didn’t wait for your protest before inviting himself into the small bathroom.

“It’s fine, I got it,” your fingers shook as you attempted to pry the suture from your skin, salty tears splashing towards the floor. 

You dropped your hand against your hip and audibly exhaled as he assessed the wound. He was hardly offended that you refused to look at him. Truth be told, he could hardly look at you without having his whole chest be filled with the weight of his own shortcomings. 

He hated when you cried, especially at his own doing. You could blame it on that searing pain of torn flesh instead of the heavy burden of disappointing him, so you did. You pretended that the only pain you felt was the physical kind as you stood in front of him, half naked and bleeding, as he sat on the lip of the bathtub.  

In any other situation you would have taken advantage of this position, cupping the back of his neck before sliding between his legs, waiting for him to pull you into his lap. But it’s different now, and you almost flinch as his calloused fingertips carefully brush your skin.

“You ready?” He asked, waiting for your permission before hurting you all over again. 

You nod while stare at the ceiling, counting the porous tiles, bracing yourself for what is to come. 

He tried to get the stitches and bandages ready as quickly as possible, prepping them on his knee as he gave the countdown. “One, two, three...” 

“God damnit!”

The world became nothing but splotchy stars and radio static as your flesh ripped apart all over again, and you bit down on your knuckle, focusing on that dull ache that took your attention away from the way Frank was piecing you together again. 

“I’m sorry.” He sounded muffled, his silhouette splotchy, but he held you together with nothing but cheap butterfly sutures and a half assed apology. 

“I know,” was all you could muster out, breathing in that last bite of fight you had in you. 

“Y’gonna stop poutin’ then?”

You jerked away from him, your nostrils flaring as you looked over his bent frame before turning on your heel, leaving him in that makeshift emergency room. 

He almost regretted saying it, almost, but there was nothing worse for a man than putting himself out there and being disregarded, so he sat there, counting the bloody wash cloths and discarded bandages until he felt that familiar sense of carnal  responsibility. 

You were changing when he finally came about, his imaginary tail tucked between his legs. It felt wrong to look at you, to see the way your bare back curved and folded before disappearing beneath an oversized shirt—his oversized shirt. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you before, with your body on full display as he appreciated every inch with a soft brush of his lips. He had seen you, tasted you, held you, but this time it was different.

“Look,” he cleared his throat to signal his presence. “I’m sorry.”

“You done?” You ignored him as you pulled the starchy sheets back, but he wrapped a hand around your wrist, forcing you to look at him. 

“Hey,” his eyes softened and voice dropped. “I mean it.” 

There was an invisible argument happening as you both held onto the white sheet. You knew. He knew. Someone had to give in. Someone had to break first. Someone had to bare their soul and damnit were you tired of pretending. 

“Well it don’t feel like it.” You gave in, and for a minute, you sounded as tired as you felt. 

He ran a hand over his face with a sigh and you took the opportunity to sit on the first clean mattress you’d seen in months before bracing yourself against the sturdy headboard. 

“Sometimes,” his hand twitched at his side as he contemplated his next sentence, “I look at her and all I see is my Lisa.” Your eyes shot towards his face at the mention of his daughter, and it was hard to ignore the painful knot in your stomach. “It’s like I’m losing her all over again and I—“

“Frank,” you leaned towards him, and the mattress sunk next to your feet. 

“I just can’t do it again, y’know?” He looked at you, tears brimming on the waterline but never daring to spill. “I can’t do it again.”

“You won’t. You won’t do it again.”

You said it as if you were a god, fully capable of aligning the stars and galaxies and writing history. You said it as if you were able to predict the future—a future where Amy was safe in an undisclosed location and you and Frank were, well, somewhere. 

He huffed at that, and rightfully so, though you tried to convince him anyways. 

“I’m sorry,” you attempted to shift the blame, “I didn’t know that she ordered food, I should have paid attention. I should have known better, I should have—” 

“Hey, hey, hey” he placed a hand on your leg. “Quit it.”

“I’m sorry, Frank. I didn’t mean to mess up.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry, I tried,” you could feel the uncomfortable knot lodged in your throat but you couldn’t push it down. “I swear I tried.”

It was embarrassing the way the hot tears left patterns against your white cotton shirt as they fell. You weren’t really sure why you were crying or who you were crying for. Amy was still alive and tucked into a bed just behind another door, but your sister was somewhere else entirely. 

“It’s not your fault,” Frank attempted to intervene, gently scooping you into his side. You let him, though not without feeling so incredibly selfish. He rubbed your arm, in a steady motion, squeezing lightly for his own emotional support. “I’m sorry for taking it out on you. I shouldn’t have left you guys alone. You shouldn’t have had to clean up my mess, okay?” 

You nod into his chest, wishing his words didn’t feel like a cheaply made sympathy card. 

“None of this is on you, you understand? You didn’t do anything wrong.” He placed a kiss against your temple, and you folded into him even more.

He somehow reached across space and time to tell you the words you wished you had heard that night: you didn’t do anything wrong. None of this is on you. Frank had become a god, transcending the laws of physics to piece you together with sutures and sympathies.

It was quiet for a while save for the muffled lull of the obnoxiously cold air conditioning. You missed this—the feeling that life could go on, that you were enough for him, that the silence didn’t signal an impending doom. 

“Stay,” you whispered. 

“Hm?”

It was silent as you considered your next move—play dumb or give in, going belly up for a few more minutes of playing pretend.

“Can you stay?”

It was silent for another minute, but his breathing shifted and you held your breath.

“Sweetheart,”

“I know. I know she’s next door,” you tried to make his decision easier. “Can you just stay until I fall asleep?” 

“Sure.”

It was less than convincing, but he kissed your neck before sliding himself down the mattress and pulling your body into his stomach. 

You curled into yourself, hugging a pillow against your face before deciding it was too soft. This, you and Frank, felt too soft after a week of sleeping in different beds and communicating through glances and strategies to stay alive—to keep Amy alive. It was different. Too soft and still not enough. 

He felt the emotional shift as your body tensed, snaking an arm beneath the crook of your neck before reaching for your empty hand. You followed directions without a second thought, intertwining fingers and limbs with a relaxed sigh before your world went dark.

He stayed, like he said he would, watching the numbers on the clock face ascend.

It was unfair to you, he thought, that he was splitting his attention between you and a young girl he barely knew. It was unfair that he had to uncurl himself from your body and walk next door to a bed that would be too cold, too empty, too soft and pretend that he didn’t just abandon you. It was unfair that he brought you along to something he wasn’t sure how to finish. 

The bed dipped as he forced himself away from your warmth. He held his breath, silently praying you wouldn’t notice his absence. You looked calm for the first time in a long time, since before you both became honorary foster parents and ran from men that looked like they were on a pilgrimage. You looked so calm, and he tucked his invisible tail between his legs again while pressing a kiss to your shoulder, letting out a final sigh of resignation before disappearing behind a closed door. 

You were too tired to move. Too tired to leave that spot that still smelled like him if you closed your eyes and inhaled. You knew he was leaving, only pretending as a courtesy to his feelings, though you couldn’t help but wish the metallic click of the door was a gun aimed directly at your chest.

[rey-jake-therapist]

When the showrunners or directors have to explain the meaning of some scenes to the audience in interviews many times, it's not very good from the point of view of the script they wrote. Kind of lazy writing or something. And they did it twice this season at least, first when they had to explain that the kiss scene was non romantic and the second that the fight scene was with some hints of feelings between the characters. Although it is possible to write both scenes in a different way, but alas. I hope they will take their mistakes in the future.

Yeah, I completely agree. I hate being spoon fed by the narrative because I feel like I'm being taken for an idiot by the writers, but it's just as bad when we learn some stuff about the characters' feelings through the showrunners/directors, because the scenes failed to convey them.

Talking of the Elrondriel kiss, I just found out that the showrunners commented the reactions in an interview for Vanity Fair :

The backlash was that some fans didn’t like that you were humanizing orcs? McKay: The idea that that would somehow feel like moral relativism, or that we're saying that Orcs are victims, which some folks said—It was shocking to us. We're like, "What…?" It felt like not a big deal. The other [controversial] thing I would say is Galadriel, and Elrond, and the smoochies. For sure. Payne: The kiss! I was going to bring up the kiss, which was a way for him to sneak a tool to her to unshackle herself. But you guys had to know what you were doing there. You knew that you were going to stir up the fan base. McKay: No, we did not, not at all. We thought it was just a delightful way to show that he was sorry that he mistrusted her for so long, and he loved her, and he was going to have to leave her to her own fate. He needed to distract the room so that he could slip her a hope that maybe she could get out of there. A kiss means a different thing between elves. Thousands of years of friendship mean a different thing to elves. The idea that it’s shipping bait or we're trying to be controversial… To us it made perfect sense, but maybe that's the problem. Payne: If you look at the long game for where their relationships are going, Galadriel will eventually be Elrond's mother-in-law. It's slightly eyebrow-raising about the fact that they would've once kissed. It's all part of it. Stranger things have happened, man. McKay: It's like Leia kissing Luke. That's not outrageous, it's just that she's trying to make Han Solo jealous in that moment because Han's being a jerk to her. So, [Elrond’s kiss] came out of their friendship, and it came out of the needs of that moment. We did not think we were at all being controversial or stirring the pot.

I'm not even remotely surprised that they reduce the problem of the Elrondriel kiss to "it was a kiss on the lips", while the main problem is that the scene was deliberately shot as romantic, with even a romantic music playing in the background.

And it's actually very funny that they compare it with the Leia/Luke kiss, because the kiss in question can be easily used as an example of, "this is what you do when you want to show two friends kiss on the lips to deceive a third person".

I know that some Star Wars fans at the time started shipping Luke and Leia because of this kiss, but anyone with a bit of media literacy realized that the way it was filmed and played, it was really just that Leia was annoyed by Han being an ass, and wanted him to see she wasn't that interested in him since he kept bragging. She didn't fool most of the audience, because the kiss was not framed as romantic. But then it's George Lucas, he knows the difference between a platonic kiss and a romantic one, and he knows to do it right.

Also the idea that Elves just casually kiss their bffs on the lips is bs. We never saw it in the LOTR movies, and we didn't see it in the show either. And if it was that normal, why did Galadriel look stunned? I hope Elrond kisses a male buddy in season 3 now, so at least it will be show!canon that Elves kiss their friends on the lips to say goodbye. It's only fair, right?

And now I guess that Elrond kneeling in front of Galadriel and putting Nenya on her finger as if she was his fiancé shouldn't make raise an eyebrow either. It's just another thing that Elves do on a daily basis, I guess.

Tagging @apoloadonisandnarcissus because we talked a lot of that kiss ;)

[amndmirk]

bestie drop the Kris & Ralsei relationship rant and why there's less fandom reception for them because of archetypes. the ppl want to know.

its. ugh

im not tidying it up, ill be putting it off forever (haha krals quest reference. VIBE CHECK)

so, deltarune community, i introduce to you, a half-assed 3AM rant about kris and ralsei.

transcription below, sidebar screenshots, tldr and everything. uh, i recommend reading the post

while i still cannot pass out i figured out what bothers me about the way theyre presented and why platonic kralsei is such a craving that has no material in the fandom to work with whatsoever

we know the susie relationships. everyone cherishes kris and susies friendship. id say it comes first if anything. people vaguely appreciate her and ralsei as well - we had plenty of hangout opportunities for the two, there are even two or three comics about ralsei and his beef with her. friendship content. dynamic exploring

kris and ralsei presentation however includes but is not limited to: dry interaction (choose your flavour: kris/kris as player projection aka the thing everyone did with ch1 ralsei cutesy content), dry interaction 2.0 aka The Sillies/ralsei as sole background commenter in goofyass situations/the normal dude (may or may not include in-game shit), kris' resentment of ralsei (at least theyre getting creative), and finally mushy romantic couple shit and sugarcoating tropes

vc: and you could excuse that with a "oh, well but we dont know anything about ralseis backstory" yet we hardly know anything about susies either. we only theorise of her past related to adoption, being homeless, insert other determinators based material. we factually know very little of her, yet susie has established friendships with both kris and ralsei, even well-written fan content with noelle that is not limited by surface romance but rather the exploration of their dynamic, friends first, partners - second.

as in for either of them being morally gray? susie has no problems with that and i love her, we love her, the_newest_girl sweepstakes log hasnt changed anything. i do have a theory on how that could affect ralsei, though. might contemplate on that.

so susie has all that. kris, their nature still unknown to most, but overall sympathetic with a shade of gray morality (HEEEELLL YEAAA) has the similar spectrum. kris has all that.

with them and ralsei though? its like. not a single plate of them as a dynamic. as actual friends

and honestly its no wonder kralsei is getting rejected from lightner ship/old darkner ship communities

we present no base. no fundamental understanding or interpretation of them

...though i wish id browse through deltarune tag more legitimately and take samples every time i see kris and ralsei on-screen to have a list of categories for each interaction to sort them like legos by shapes and colours.

there was one.ONE comic of them that kept the hopes up. this is why kralsei is stayin alive. that, and tunas scarf thingy. our icon (shhhh hes seepy)

i, uh, dont have a conclusion. i remember writing it because i wish we actually came up with who they are. wish that even they had conflicts and resolutions, similarities and differences, like any other dynamic in the fanon, having multiple headcanons and interpretations.

i just wish we gave them a chance to be friends.

[cocoreallylovesraiden]

In my own onion I THINK bihan and sektor might have worked if it was truly a sloooooow burn (impossible in the tiny ass 2h story mode) and they had previously established sektor as her own person aside from lin kuei and bihan. BUT THEY DIDNT! What if we just made this very beloved character (that some fans have been waiting forever to play) into a woman (based) and then remove all the cool bits from her just so we can remove EVERYONES characterisations from the first game and make Man and Woman Oog Oog Oog it drove me nuts lowkey

Bihan’s first moment of soft/tenderness, and it’s to a character freshly introduced in this current storyline, what a waste! Imagine the impact had it been kuai or tomas, even Liu Kang, etc- fuck it even MADAM BO! All that build up to waste it on a relationship with ZERO chemistry, romantic or honestly even platonic

AND for nrs to do allll that and STILL Liu Kang and bihan had eons more chemistry and build up HELLOOOOOOO NRS WRITERS!! WAKEY WAKEY!!

And idk if I’m crazy but kuai Liang seemed so strange in the whole story mode; he was already decently palate-less in mk1 but worked really nice with tomas and bihan as a UNIT for storytelling. And in here he was… just bihan… they turned him INTO bihan, and when bihan came back he was totally normal and nice again Like?? AND TOMAS! TOMAS!!! THEY SHAFTED HIM! AGAIN! I HATED the new Johnny, and why they couldn’t just bring tomas in to complete the trio set and be done with it is beyond me. I understand Johnny being the fan favourite and yes I love him too but when I say time and a place…. He stuck out so poorly and his lines were kind of choppy? Even by Johnny standards.

Sektor was so massively utterly insanely irritating every single scene she was in I was ROLLING MY EYES I GET IT YOU LOVE MR GRANDMASTER GET IN LINE!! Even sadder is that in some scenes when she’s not going on about him she seems pretty cool, but also just bitchy in a way I noticed a lot of female Asian characters have been written in recent video games. Not a fan… not a fan… TO BE FAIR it would all be excused if she was a lesbian (bias) but no! No…

Cyrax was super cute and endearing, honestly my favourite part. But then like… her and kuai Liang… I couldn’t tell if they were going for a father-daughter or exes vibe and that’s lowkey eugh… yeah sure introduce harumi (boss babe love her) and then spend the rest of the story mode introducing kuais relationship with another woman because if bi han gets his girl accessory so does kuai blablabla

Minus points kung lao just doesn’t really speak unless it’s to finish Johnny’s joke, for a mk dlc lowkey not enough cool combat sequences and too much running around? Imagine if this was your first introduction in a story to takeda god bless you

Trying to be positive ummmmm cyrax is a sweetie and tanya looked AMAZING?! MILEENA AS WELL MY GODDDD STUNNERS!! Wish they would’ve been showed together… haha…. Hahahahahahahah….

Sorry for the long rant there’s tons more but I would like to know other people’s thoughts as well

Can this franchise just stop forcing these awful half-baked romances into the cast. They really changed Sektor and Cyrax to women and immediately had it be Sektor and Bi-Han are together and Kuai and Cyrax are exe's. Sektor is also just the most annoying character, the biggest Bi-Han d*ckrider ever. This game also randomly threw in Ashrah/Reptile, and the last game had Jade\Kotal. Even Raiden and Kitana feels lazy because Raiden and Lui Kang switched roles.

Then there's Emperor Rain and Empress Tanya kinda weird that we spend a chunk of time with these alternate versions. The dragon stuff with Tanya was cool tho, nice reference to Armageddon. Johnny cage was also annoying as fuck, like i was getting tired of every single line being a quip. A bunch of Shaolin are being slaughtered and he just throws in a cheesy Game Of Thrones Reference? Overall, Khaos Reigns seems to just exist to bring Noob into the new era but, what's exactly going to happen to Sub-Zero now that Bi-Han is noob and Kuai is Scorpion? Is Frost just going to be the main ice user now?

This was such a huge step down from Mk11 Aftermath. From what I hear, Dominic is the sole writer for Mk1. So either they need to let him go and stop writing for this franchise or add other writers into the room. It's just so sad I can't bring myself to care about Mortal Kombat lore anymore....

[adamfoolcry]

i hate you, i love you (k.dy)

it's valentine's day and you try your hardest not to fall back in the arms of one kim doyoung - your former boss, recluse and closed off, your fuck buddy - whom you are completely in love with.

pairings: CEO!Doyoung x Fem!Reader, Johnny x Fem!Reader rating: 18+   genre: angst and smut  warnings: swearing, explicit sexual situations - hate sex, dirty talk wc: 3k+ prompt: 'i hate you' 

a/n: This is a part of Candy Hearts Collab hosted by @127-mile . Text in blockquote are text messages.Thank you for beta reading simmi(@sly-merlin ) and indi(@ncteaxhoe​). Not proofread excuse the mistakes please contact me if you would like to do so. Enjoy! - xo aria

Doyoung:

I don't know if you'll even read this but if you do, I want you to know that what we have for two years was not a game for me. Maybe we can't start being honest with each other. When you make up your mind you know where to reach me.

Mina really knows how to dress you up to the nines, you'll give her that.

"It's not bad," you nod at your reflection approvingly as you examine the dress you wrestled yourself in, clinging to your body in the right places effectively enhancing your silhouette. The soft silky texture of satin feels exquisite against your skin however you can’t exude the confidence the dress might have channeled you with. You don’t feel grand in fact you feel the opposite;

You want to cancel the date.

"Oh for christ's sake, ______. Maybe try to put some enthusiasm into this," Mina spun you around to face her, your back to the whole body mirror where a while ago you two were examining the outfit she picked up from the back of your closet - where dressier clothing of yours reside not seeing the light of the day unless for special occasions. 

Placing both her hands on your shoulders, "You were so excited when you called me to pick something to wear. What happened?" She further inquired.

You heave a sigh, "I don't know I am just not in a mood to go out on a date with a stranger," you admitted.

Mina pulls your eyes back to hers, gleaming with determination. "You are ______, an economics major who graduated on top of her class, who landed a new job as a senior financial analyst despite being in the industry for only three years. Now repeat it," Mina orders you.

"What does it have to do with -" you rolled your eyes, and whined dramatically.

She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth in displeasure, "Go on say it"

"I am ______, graduated on the top of my class and landed a new position as a senior financial analyst despite my tenurity," you mumble in a low voice.

"Good," Mina coddled you as if you are an infant who uttered her first word, "now add I am young, smart, and men want me."

You open your mouth to protest but Mina only pinned you with a hard look and you know you will not be getting out of this until you do as she says.

"I am young, smart, and men want me." You did as she told you.

Begrudgingly you did feel a lot better.

This is the third step of banishing Kim Doyoung in your life entirely. 

First is to send a resignation letter - done. 

Second, secure a new employment - done.

Third is to pursue a romantic relationship.

"Now let's get you ready for your date." Mina pulled you to the present, squeezing your bare shoulders to comfort you.

"I know that what you did is really hard. The sudden big change and all but today's Valentine's day you need to have a little fun today."

"I know Mina, now do my makeup." You pulled her to where your vanity table is located as you paste a smile on your face in order to placate her worries.

--------

If people were to know why you are doing this they might have called you silly.

After graduating from university you were offered the position of financial analyst in his company - a small but budding start up in Tech. Never would you have expected to land a job in your chosen field straight out of college. You are doing what you have envisioned yourself doing: analysing the trends and forecasting sales of the company's cloud solutions. You are comfortable with your current living situation, not what you have imagined after your parents cut you off no longer sending you an allowance. You thought you'd be working your ass off to make ends meet. Thankfully, the pay was high enough for you to live in an apartment in the city, pay your bills in time, and afford luxuries you knew that most people your age wouldn't have the money for. 

Everything seems perfect right? A job that you genuinely love, good pay, living in the heart of the city but of course you just have to develop feelings for your boss: Kim Doyoung. And that complicates everything; enough for you to decide to completely start over again.

Kim Doyoung has managed to worm into every nook and cranny of your life.

Kim Doyoung is a magnetic man, of few words, stern straight brows, and wide shoulders swaddled in elegant suits. He runs the company based on data-driven decisions unafraid of taking risks that produces the highest profitable outcome. Working at his company where all ten workers directly reports and closely works with him, you and your colleagues have developed quite a personal relationship with him. It was not conventional per se but you guess this is how all start-ups operate with a slightly different work culture. Unlike big corporations there is no bureaucracy, filling for leaves can just be a phone call or a visit to his office.

As his only financial analyst almost never leaving his side. You'd like to think that Doyoung might have developed a soft spot for you, maybe not in a romantic sense but in a platonic friendly way. He values your opinion enough that he asks for your input in any pivotal decisions either in work or his personal life. Whether to facilitate the migration to cloud as external contractors of big corporations or to oversee the renovation of his penthouse. And in small things too honestly, after all he asked for your help to decide whether the decor should be a Bohemian vibe or modern minimalistic black and grey.

That was until you fucked after the in-office celebration of closing a big contract. One moment he is talking about the vase that serves as a centerpiece of his dining table that you helped him pick, the next he was pulling your arm leading you to a dimly lit room. 

Yes, you did drink but you were sober enough to protest if you didn't want it; who are you kidding? Of course you wanted it to happen. Not one word of objection was uttered as he pinned you to the wall with your legs circling his waist. Instead of protests what left your lips was series of moans and his name in breathless pleas that he had to stuff your mouth with his fingers or else your colleagues will hear the two of you having sex two rooms away from them.

Doyoung slipped out of you stepping back to let you down.Your stilettos made a clicking noise as it came in contact with the tiled floor that echoed in your eardrums; deafening. Coming back down to earth and from your high is also the moment when you realized the mess you put yourself into by fucking Doyoung - your boss - in a storage room.

You righted both your disheveled appearances - to look as normal as possible - in order to go back to the pantry where the celebration was still in full swing. The tense silence that wrapped the atmosphere makes you want to shrivel in shame, both of you were aware of the line that you have crossed. 

The unspoken words were hanging in the air -

It was a mistake. Let's forget this ever happened. - and you refused to acknowledge the elephant in the room, the stillness making you uncomfortable by the second.

"_______ -," Doyoung started.

"We don't have to talk about it Doyoung." 

You moved for the door, not looking back to peek at Doyoung's expression. You just wanted to get out of the dusty storage room, the stuffy air and Doyoung's proximity, suffocating you. 

You thought you were smart enough not to make the same mistake again but you seem to have a penchant for getting hurt because you did it again and again every chance you got. When the effects of orgasm are wearing off and you are left naked and vulnerable you always find yourself swearing that it will be the last time but you already knew you were lying.

You just can't get enough of Doyoung even though it hurts to pretend that each encounter was meaningless.

Sleeping with someone where you never knew where you stand at is excruciatingly painful. 

You can't be jealous when you hear about the new girl he's with because you have no right.

It is painful when Doyoung gives you some false hope. Visiting you almost everyday in your small office bearing lunch for the two of you. He often spends half of his day loitering in your space, perching himself on the corner of your desk pushing around the knick knacks around your desk while you are busy with work.

Only to dash it when he tells you about the latest girl he's seeing which would mean your ears would bear the brunt of his relationship woes until it falls apart only for the vicious cycle to repeat again when he found himself in another one of his flings.

Everyday as he asks for relationship advice you feel yourself getting worn out and the green eyed monster roaring it's head, you try your hardest to tamp it down with your rational thinking. 

What hurts the most is he started his series of flings a week after you hooked up, rubbing on your face that it means nothing to him at all.

So after countless hours, days, and months of anguish you started planning your escape.

--------

There are so many thoughts running through your head it starts with: Did I overdress? Is Johnny having a good time? 

Then drifts into completely unrelated manners.

Did I manage to say goodbye to all of my co-workers? Clear out my desk in my office? Surrender my elevator pass to the friendly security guard? Retrieve my favorite mug in the pantry? 

Will everything be ok? Will I excel at my new company? Will I fit in a big corporation?

Will I miss Doyoung?

Am I doing the right thing?

Johnny cleared his throat which broke your reverie, your eyes settling in his face but Johnny seems to find the table napkin worthy of his attention rather than maintaining eye-contact with you.

"I had fun today but I think -," You see Johnny hesitating to continue his sentence, linking and unlinking his fingers instead.

You get it and you can't blame Johnny for his lack of interest. You were barely with him today after the small talk had died down and the two of you had finished your meals. You didn't make an effort to get to know him, the conversation was one sided as you barely threw the questions back at him; replying in terse short sentences as if you would rather be anywhere but having dinner with him.

"Yeah me too but it's really nice to spend Valentine's with you though and getting all dolled up. Makes me forget I am single," You joked and flashed him a smile; relieved, Johnny finally met your eyes as his actions mirror yours curving his lips into a smile.

-------

You hailed a cab for a ride back to your apartment, settling in the backseat you instructed and gave the address to the driver as his radio blasted cheesy romantic songs in your ear, making you feel more disappointed with how bad your date with Johnny went.

As the cab speeds through the city, the citylights intermingle with each other creating a spectrum of colors that bounce back at the cab’s windows, the scenery of skyscrapers blurring past your eyes and your mind returns back to musing which you know is a dangerous territory because somehow your mind always returns back to him.

Doyoung

What exactly did you want to be with Doyoung?

You want him to like you? No, You want to mean something to him, to be the special person he runs to whenever he's devastated, to be the first person he calls when he's completely utterly bursting with joy. You want him to be completely aware of your presence that even just a mere mention of your name will evoke something in him, make his heart beat a little faster and cause some flush to bleed through his cheeks.

You want him to be endeared with your habitual tics - how you drum your fingers in every surface when you are in deep thought, a line maring your forehead between your brows and make his lips itch to kiss it. You want him to be captivated with your idiosyncrasies and find it charming, you want him to adore everything about you that made you, distinctly you.

You want him to want you.

Your phone vibrated and interrupted your stupor and upon seeing Doyoung’s name attached to the notification. Your fingers quickly unlocked your phone, fingers ringing from an adrenaline rush just from the sight of his name.

Doyoung:

Come over?

And just like that you inform your cab driver to make a detour and drive to Doyoung’s instead.

Doyoung opened the gigantic door of his penthouse where he found you on the other side of the door, shifting your weight from foot to foot, nervous to be in the same perimeter as him. When the gap was big enough to see you his eyes roved over to your body and noted that you were dressed up nicely for a date. His eyes then turned into slits as he glared at you.

“Have fun with your date?” He questioned and you can see his jaw set - the muscles clenching tight.

You didn’t answer, you don’t want him to know the pathetic evening you spent with Johnny as your mind drifts to thoughts of him; instead of actively participating with Johnny’s effort of back and forth.

As if knowing that you wouldn’t answer, his arms went to grab your forearms pulling you inside and leading you to the stairs up his loft where his bed is, you followed meekly behind him. Reaching his loft you look around and try to commit to memory the layout of the room; promising yourself that this will be the last time you will set foot in this room.

Doyoung attached his lips to your neck which drew a soft moan from you, spurred by your sounds he continued to ravish your neck oscillating between harshly sucking and peppering soft kisses on the expanse of the skin of your neck. His hands running at your sides smoothly and gradually getting closer to the underside of your breasts with each pass, when he finally cupped your mounds you arch in his palms further pushing yourself closer to him, greedy for his attention from all the teasing that he has done.

When he spoke again it fanned over the nape of your neck making your skin tingle from the warmth, “Why can’t you understand that I am the only one who can make you feel this way.” 

You can smell the residue of whisky on his breath and you wanted to taste it on your tongue even though from all the times you have slept with him you two have never kissed. You have drawn the line there for kissing is much more intimate than slapping bodies againsts each other for satisfaction. Kissing can be done without sexual notions but a simple act between couples and it is a glaring truth that you two were not.

You found yourself naked and sprawled on his queen size bed where you have lain your back many times but never spent a night in. Even the off white color of his ceiling is familiar to you as if mocking you for all the times you said you wouldn’t see it again. As he slips your dress down your body, your eyes water and it pooled in your eyes ready to spill over. ‘This is the last time,’ you tell yourself again, 'this is the last time that I will be Doyoung’s beck and call.' When he was finished trailing his lips down and also discarding his clothes at the other side of the bed you managed to swipe the tears that gathered in your eyes and look at him.

Towering over you he was a sight to behold and you trace the line of his body with your eyes, caressing the dips on his collarbones and the line that leads down to his cock as his face coil into a smirk smug with the knowledge that he can turn you into a whimpering mess.

“What do you want?” He asked while splaying his hands on your stomach, his thumb drawing circles on your clit which made your moans even louder and your pussy clench on nothing. You hate that he was the only one who can make you feel this way, reducing you into a pleading mess as you move your hips to the rhythm that he has set. 

You don’t have to tell him your guttural whines already told him what you wanted and he obliged inserting his length into you slowly, while you gripped his sheets until your knuckles turned white. You loved the way he filled you and the burn that accompanies when he stretched your clamping muscles on him.

So you let all your reasoning go because Doyoung’s cock pumping inside you felt good, too good. 

He knows your body like an instrument, putting the right pressure and hitting the spots that makes you throw your head back repeatedly. You can feel the falter in his quick thrusts and knows that he is near his end. Doyoung makes this one sound at the back of his throat when he orgasms … and you follow suit too as he falls apart.

It took a few seconds for him to untangle his legs and arms from your figure and it took you a couple of minutes of staring at the walls, waiting until you felt your legs can support you before you stood up and searched for your dress and undergarments. You can hear the rustle of the sheets as Doyoung sits on his bed watching your back as you slip on your panties and pull your dress back in its place.

“So tell me why did you leave the company?” Doyoung asked, his voice ringing loudly in your ears.

“I told you already I want to work in a big company,” You try to answer nonchalantly.

“Really? Or does it have something to do with me?

“Oh for fuck’s sake Doyoung. The world doesn’t revolve around you!” You shouted at him as you turned around to face him. Your ire rising as you see the cold stoic look on his face - unaffected by your outburst.

“Then why does it feel like you are running away from me?” He stood up from the bed and warily approached you as if you will lash at him any moment.

“I hate you,” (I love you) you whispered under your breath the words not meant from his ears but he heard it anyway. Disbelief painted his features he cannot grasp the reason why you are suddenly acting like this.

He reached out to touch your arm but you swerved his hand like a hurt animal nursing a wound and Doyoung then noticed your bloodshot eyes and defensive stance.

“Don’t touch me. Whatever destructive thing this is Doyoung, I am done. We’re done,” You stated bluntly your voice devoid of emotions a complete contrast with how you hugged yourself tightly with your arms.

“You don’t mean that,” Doyoung said adamantly as color drained from his face, making his pale complexion - paper white. 

“You can’t just walk away,” He added more to convince himself than you because he can see that hard look in your eyes - already set in the decision of walking away from him.

“Watch me Doyoung,” your lips curved into a cruel bitter smile. 

You leave him with those words as he watches your retreating figure until it completely disappears from his line of vision. 

--------

That night when you received a text from Doyoung, you never bothered to open it, opting to delete it and completely block all communications with him. You need to move on and in order to do it you need to sever all ties that might delude you to come back in his arms again.

You need to escape from Kim Doyoung for it's been due too long.

a/n: Read more of my works for NCT here:masterlist

[amyisherenowitsokay]

Zagr for the ship ask 😤😤😤 every single one bitch

I cannot believe you have bombarded me like this. Appalled. Insulted. Astounded.

Please enjoy my entire analysis of my fictional totally canonical ship.

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

1. How did they first meet?

Dib, but also school.

2. What was their first impression of each other?

I think they're both initially incredibly dismissive of one another. Zim thinks the entire fate of the Armada's reputation lying on his shoulders, and Gaz really has too many personal problems even as a kid to deal with; neglectful Dad, overprotective, stupid brother, etc.

3. Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Okay so hear me out; I think Skoodge and Professor Membrane would be so obnoxious in the best way. And Gir, whenever his attention span lets him remember long enough to scream about it. But I think Membrane would be chipper about Gaz finding someone, even long before she admits she's even interested, and Skoodge would want Zim to be happy and is unconditionally supportive, especially when Zim is mopey whenever his advances are rebuffed.

4. Who felt romantic feelings first?

Honestly, I love a Zim simp, but I genuinely think it'd be Gaz. Zim is obviously a Defect capable of feeling a larger range of emotions than other Irkens, but he still didn't receive socialization that makes 'romantic rituals' in any way natural to him. So I think Gaz and him would buddy up platonically and casually, initially, until she realizes she likes his company a little too much and freaks out about it.

5. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Gaz does, 100%, and she's way more stubborn about it then Zim. I think Zim's denial is just that he doesn't "get" romance (see above) and what's going on with him, but once he understands he's fully down to bombard Gaz with affection, flirtations, and other over-the-top simp behavior until she stops pretending she's not gritting her teeth while fighting a blush.

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Zim doesn't know what a soul is, but he does begin to understand the concept that they can be taken from human's in bargains. He becomes distracted by the topic. Bringing it up again later would have him largely dismissive.

Gaz would roll her eyes, and be extremely bitter about the idea that there is anyone 'made' for her. She's very independent, and I think someone with the sort of familial issues she does with no role model for a 'happy' family would be really resistant to being bound to someone in a way that would entitle them to her vulnerabilities. She'd be extremely resentful, dismissive, and irritable.

7. What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Really unfulfilled, listless. Without that companionship, they would never develop into people capable of meaningful relationships. I think both of them are very independent. Zim may claim he likes an audience, but there's an undeniable anxiety that he gets when faced with judgement. If it's anything but unwaveringly positive, he becomes delusional and creates a fantasy world in which everyone loves him, and the situation was just an initial misinterpretation. Gaz would have good friends, I think, but accepting Zim and his oddities and realizing she genuinely relates to someone who knows everything about her (via her brother + proximity + time) and is still here would mean a lot to her development.

GENERAL

1. Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

Zim, without a doubt. Gaz may like Zim first, but she's completely in denial about it and completely stubborn. Zim is oblivious, and also a big ass simp, so his persistence and patience eventually gets Gaz to let her guard down and accept that she has hormones, she has romantic inclinations, and apparently they've both decided Zim is it. Time to be a big girl and accept it.

2. Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

Honestly, I don't think they're the 'date' type of couple. I am probably 100% projecting since my boyfriend and I did not have an official 'date' until like 6 months into our first relationship, where we paused, turned to each other and were like 'wait is this our first date?' because we're homebodies whose idea of fun is projects. I think Zim and Gaz would hang out regularly, but it wouldn't ever be like a formal 'we are going to Bloaty's/the movies/etc as a date,' but rather 'I am going here and you are coming with me so I guess we are going together' thing. Zim doesn't get the point of a date, because if a date is by definition doing an activity together, then aren't they perpetually on a date? And Gaz isn't really a 'let's go to dinner formally' kind of person. They hang out, they go places, but it's never really a 'thing.'

3. What was their first kiss like?

I firmly believes Gaz would have to walk Zim through every aspect of physical affectionate. Zim is really wary about it, but I do think there's an instinct towards good ol' copulation, as well as a longing for positive touch after so long getting his ass whooped in the Academy, that would make him frustrated trying to figure out what this desire is. I think their first kiss is Gaz explaining to Zim, after he asks her outright what else there is after tame stuff like cuddling and hand holding, and Gaz walks him through the concept, implications, and so on until he feels ready to bravely and firmly try it.

While that does sound pretty clinical, I think actually it'd be really emotional for both of them. Zim would be really overwhelmed by how much passion is in a kiss, and Gaz would be similarly overwhelmed since, going into the relationship, she probably never anticipated Zim being interested in anything sexual, so any physical affection he expresses interest in is a surprise to her.

4. Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

I think Gaz probably would try out a few brief relationships, but never anything substantial or dramatic. Zim's never been in a relationship, so Gaz is his first everything. I do think they'd be each other's first sexual relationship, but I think Gaz would have most of her more minimal firsts with other people prior to Zim.

5. What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Zim older. I normally write Zim as the same height as Gaz, or only a little taller. Neither of them are tall. I do respect you 'short king' stans though.

6. What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Dib hates Zim, firmly and completely, at the beginning of their relationship. It takes a lot of self-reflection, meaningful sibling discussions, and probably a few screaming matches that eventually get to the real root of the issue (Dib's ingrained fear that something would happen to Gaz, and that it'd his fault) before he came around. Zim is a big petty bitch and would gleefully antagonize him. They would never stop sniping at each other, but they'd begrudgingly (sort of) behave for Gaz. They would eventually become frenemies and bros, but they'd die and also kill each other before admitting any sort of cordiality.

Professor Membrane adores Zim, and treats him like the son he never had/always wanted, the one who wants to have long discussions about science and can keep up with the theoreticals. Gaz hates it.

The Base and Gaz are cool. They have an understanding borne from two sentient creatures who have found themselves in the position of trying to keep Zim from killing himself, killing other people, or from coming to (too much) harm. Gaz initially hates Gir, but eventually she figures out how to get him to chill out when it's important. Minimoose and her are also cool, but he creeps Gaz out a little.

7. Who takes the lead in social situations?

Zim thinks he does, but it's really just Gaz slapping her hand over his mouth before he can say something stupid, or translating whatever nonsense just came out of his mouth when he's done talking.

8. Who gets jealous easier?

Zim. Not even a question.

9. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

Zim. Also not even a question.

LOVE

1. Who said “I love you” first?

Gaz. Zim doesn't know what it means until she explains it. It takes him awhile to internalize it and reciprocate verbally, but Gaz is okay with that. He shows her how much he cares in other ways.

2. What are their primary love languages?

Without a doubt, Zim's is touch. Once he gets used to it, he's really greedy and possessive about proximity. Just having Gaz bump his arm is sometimes enough to set the worst of his nerves at ease.

Gaz's is acts of service. She's fine with Zim being physically clingy, but it means a lot to her how unflinching he is about protecting her, anticipating her needs, and remembering things.

3. Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

Zim. Gaz hates them, but she tolerates it. Sometimes.

4. How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Cuddling is very frequent. Zim will just sort of shift in behind Gaz if she's playing a game and cling, and she'll just keep doing what she's doing until she's eventually done and reciprocates. Explicit PDA never happens, but Zim is very clingy and physically will plant himself between Gaz and people who he's distrustful towards.

5. Who initiates kisses?

Gaz. I think Zim would cling to her like a barnacle at every opportunity, but Zim would likely usually defer to Gaz for escalating intimacy.

6. Who’s the big and little spoon?

Zim big spoon. PAK too uncomfortable to let him be the little spoon.

7. What are their favorite things to do together?

I think just being around each other while they do projects, game, etc. would be their favorite thing to do. Sharing in hobbies without feeling pressured to be entertaining, but still feeling like their presence is valued and wanted by the other.

8. Who’s better at comforting the other?

Being a people, and having more emotional competency, Gaz is better. Zim does his best though.

9. Who’s more protective?

Zim, if we're talking about quantity. Gaz, however, if we're talking about quality. Zim screams at chihuahuas for looking at Gaz, and also does protect her from genuine threats, but he overreacts frequently. Gaz, however, would know when Zim's out of his depth and would break the spine of anything that's a threat to him.

10. Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

Physical, for both. Neither of them is really used to verbal affection, whether it be giving or receiving. It's a lot more natural to be demonstrative.

11. What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

Me, cackling as I copy and paste this link that I imagine is from their mutual perspectives:

https://open.spotify.com/track/4nlT0Ch4qpqoS8O1RsdzjH?si=d6d8e1e19a7d4dc7

12. What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

There's lots, and I'm sure most of them are inside jokes, but the tops are Zimmothy + Little Gaz.

13. Who remembers the little things?

It's hard to say. Zim would retain an encyclopedic knowledge of all things Gaz, and tries to spoil her and accommodate her at every opportunity, but Gaz never forgets to pack an extra umbrella and a raincoat.

DOMESTIC LIFE

1. If they get married, who proposes?

Zim.

2. What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

No one but their mutual 'families.' A very small, intimate ceremony. The reception though is massive, courtesy of Professor Membrane who has no idea how to separate his personal life with his public one.

3. How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

0 kiddos. Cannot product viable, compatible DNA to produce a spawn.

4. Do they have any pets?

Does Gir count?

5. Who’s the stricter parent?

If Gir is the child, Zim. Gaz will let him get away with murder, both because she can't be bothered to control him, and also because she thinks it's funny how mad Zim gets when she lets him go wild.

6. Who worries the most?

Between Gaz "apathetic is my middle name" Membrane and Invader "I have perpetual anxiety" Zim? No idea.

7. Who kills the bugs in the house?

Gir. He eats them long before anyone can find them. But both Gaz and Zim will point out any he misses.

8. How do they celebrate holidays?

Zim fucking hates Christmas, so him and Membrane get down in a bunker for it while Dib and Gaz spend some sibling time somewhere, drinking cocoa and video chatting with the respective morons. Other holidays, they basically go wherever Professor Membrane is in the world with Dib to have a 'family' holiday.

9. Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Zim doesn't sleep, but he likes the resting and the peacefulness of getting to curl around Gaz in her sleep without her leaving. So him by default.

10. Who’s the better cook?

Zim has a 'kiss the chef' apron and everything.

11. Who likes to dance?

Neither of them, but Zim does 'victory dances' compulsively.

[elizabeethan]

My Hands, Your Hands

Chapter 1 / 2

Part 2

After being cheated on by her boyfriend, Emma Nolan moves in with her older brother David and his two stupid roommates, Will and Killian. After a night of drinking games and plenty of rum, Emma lands on the one rule that she'd rather avoid: "The Iron Curtain- player to your left."

Modern Captain Swan AU based on the New Girl episode where Nick and Jess go behind the Iron Curtain

Read on AO3

Killian got a new leather jacket in the mail and wouldn’t take it off. Like, he would not take it off. He keeps walking around in it saying stupid things like, “it really makes my hips pop,” and “I know it’s black, but it’s, like, a different kind of black. It brings out my eyes.” Emma is seriously about to lose it.  What makes matters worse is the fact that David and Will aren’t trying to stop him from acting as stupid as he is. They’re amping him up because they want to go out tonight, and it’s very un-fun going out with Killian when he’s down in the dumps about Milah. Still.

           Milah broke up with Killian months before Emma moved in. She had been cheated on by her long-term boyfriend Neal and needed a new place, and the only place with a room available happened to be her older brother’s loft, which happened to be filled with three grown men who act like children. Killian apparently took his breakup pretty hard, although she doubts he was as openly and embarrassingly emotional as she was. According to David, Milah was the one who got away. Evidently, she loved Kilian, but had to let him go. Her words, not Emma’s. Also evident was the fact that she very quickly moved into another’s man’s apartment after dumping his ass.

           So, while Emma had managed to get over Neal, she thinks rather successfully, Killian was still nursing that post-breakup hangover and hadn’t been out with the guys in several months. David usually doesn’t go out drinking, Emma assumes because he is in a long-term, committed relationship, so this is apparently momentous. Will is very excited to get out and get laid as he so eloquently put it. And now, with Killian’s new-found confidence thanks to a leather duster, he plans on getting laid as well.

           She has to admit, despite how obnoxious and childish he’s being, the black leather does work very well on him. His fair skin and dark hair compliment it, his muscular shoulders fit inside perfectly, and his ocean blue eyes truly do stand out.

           She immediately shakes that thought out of her head.

           Emma plans to stay home alone tonight; her current fling Walsh is working, and her best friend Ruby has a date. She could try and call Mary Margaret, David’s aforementioned girlfriend, but the two of them are more… daytime friends. Meaning, they get along great when they're doing adult things like having brunch or decorating the loft, but when it comes to Emma’s more childish side (read: drinking in excess) she sometimes feels as though Mary Margaret disapproves. Almost as if she’s the mom friend, but in a way that makes Emma feel like she could actually be her mother. This could be because she’s dating Emma’s older brother, or it could be because Mary Margaret has basically the purest soul of anyone Emma has ever met. Perhaps a combination of both.

           Honestly, Emma would totally go out with the guys tonight. But apparently that wouldn’t work in their favor.

           “I’m so down,” Emma exclaimed when Will announced their plans, jumping off the counter and imagining what outfit she would wear. She hasn’t been out in weeks and it wouldn’t kill her to act like a single lady for a night.

           “No way.” Killian practically jumped out of his own seat and stood directly in front of her, blocking her way to her bedroom. “You can’t come. I actually want to get laid tonight. You’d just get in the way.”

           “Excuse me!”

           “You would! Do you know how difficult it would be to get a woman to come home with me with you present? There’s no way you’re coming,” Killian says, rather rudely.

           “He’s right, Emma. It’d just make it harder for us guys if a lady was there,” Will added, shrugging and making the most insincerely apologetic face.

           “Maybe I can call Mary Margaret and see if she wants to hang out with you tonight?”

           So now she’s stuck at home. Emma spent the rest of the evening glaring at Killian before they left. She could also place equal blame on Will and David, but Killian is easier to glare at. Each time she looks over at him and narrowed her eyes, he shoots her a stupid, cocky grin and waggles his eyebrows.

           “Don’t wait up for us, Swan. Although, it may be difficult to sleep by the time we get home. We are right across the hall from one another, so if you think me and my lady friend are being too loud, well… just try and block it out.” Everything that Killian says to her is a joke, but that doesn’t make her glare any softer.

           “Shut up, Jones. You’d be lucky to get anyone to come home with you. Women will take one look at your stupid jacket and run for the hills,” she scoffs, pinching the fabric at his collar and dismissively flicking it away from her.

           “You said you liked my jacket!” His eyes grow twice their normal size and he feigns hurt, placing his right hand over his heart and gasping.

           “Just tell me you’re not actually going to wear it out tonight. It’s so long and flowy I feel like I could’ve worn it to prom.”

           “I’m sure it would look wonderful on you, love. But I think it will look better on my bedroom floor,” he says, another waggle in his thick brows. Emma glowers and groans.

           “You’re so stupid! Who says that?”

           “Oh, you love my sense of humor, Swan, don’t try and fight it,” he says in a low voice, leaning in closer to her and looking at her through his long lashes.

           “I’ve told you so many times to stop calling me that.” Emma rolls her eyes and turns around towards her bedroom, but his hand catches the crook of her elbow.

           “It’s funny. That’s one of the best things I’ve ever seen. Why wouldn’t you want me to continuously memorialize it?”

           “It’s not funny! I was attacked!”

           Killian chuckles and let’s go of her arm, a soft smile now decorating his face. “You’ll be alright here tonight, aye Swan? I didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcome.”

           Emma rolls her eyes again as she walks into her bedroom and Killian follows. “Yes, you did. And it’s fine, I get it. Wouldn’t want anyone to get in the way of Killian Jones’s great conquest,” she says sarcastically, waving jazz hands in front of his eyes.

           It was Killian’s turn to roll his eyes now, blue disappearing behind his lids as he scoffs and smirks. He shakes his head leaves his place in her threshold.

~~~

           Emma didn’t always like Killian. Okay, she doesn’t really like him that much now, but when she first moved in, she couldn’t stand him. He was completely cocky, which David explained was a symptom of his difficult breakup. Apparently, it was arduous for him to get over the love of his life without acting like an asshole. Emma’s not sure what Will’s excuse was; the youngest of the three, he seems to get into the most trouble. David’s the oldest of the group, and also the most mature. He takes on a caretaking role rather effortlessly, just as he always has with Emma.

           As she sits at home alone, she becomes so desperately bored that she considers organizing her closet. However, knowing that that would never happen, she chooses to put on a scary movie and make some popcorn.

           When it ends, she decides to call Walsh while she thinks he’s on his break. Lately, even though they’ve only been seeing each other casually for about a month, she’s been feeling as if he expects much more from her than she’s willing to give. It seems as if he wants a committed relationship, although he hasn’t come out and said it, and she’s been feeling pressure to act more like a girlfriend.

Of course, it’s only natural that the hot water pipes should clang loudly in this moment, causing her to scream and throw what’s left of her popcorn right as she finishes up her voicemail.  

           “Swan,” she hears from outside the door. “Swan?” Killian swings the door open with fervor; his brows twisted into a concerned arch. David and Will were behind him, along with one of the most beautiful women Emma has ever seen. She offhandedly wonders who she decided to go home with.

           “Hi,” she replies, reaching down to pick up some of the popcorn that went flying around her. “How was your night?”

           “It was great, Emma. I’d like you to meet Sabine,” Will cuts in and gestures towards the woman with a cheeky grin on his face. “Sabine, this is my totally platonic roommate, Emma.”

           “Nice to meet you,” Sabine says with a small wave and an oddly flirty smile. “This is a great place you guys have.”

           “Yeah, thanks.”

           “Killian tells me you created a great drinking game, and the vibe at the bar was totally off, so we thought we’d check it out. Mind if we play?” Emma finds it interesting that Will seems to think he brought Sabine home, but Sabine appears to be all over Killian. Killian starts towards Emma now, and miraculously takes off his stupid jacket before sitting on the arm of the chair she’s in, smirking. The asshole.

           “Sure, that’s fine. Everyone needs a drink and we need to find the dice and board though,” she turns her attention to Will. If he thinks she’s helping set this up, he’s got another thing coming. “I’ll take a rum and coke.”

           Killian’s looking down at her still, so she looks back at him and glares once again. “Can I help you with something?”

           “Aye,” he says softly, reaching his right hand towards her face. She thinks she almost feels her lashes fluttering at his soft touch, until she feels a slight pull of a few strands of hair at the top of her head.

           “Ow, what the hell?”

           “More popcorn, love. How’d that get there?” She rolls her eyes (yes, again), and takes the kernel from his hand, tempted to throw it at him.

           “I don’t know. Maybe I was saving it for later, and now you’ve just ruined my midnight snack.” Killian laughs- actually throws his head back and laughs, before raising his right arm over her shoulders and sliding himself into the chair she’s in, effectively squishing the both of them.

           “Again, what the hell,” she asks, her tone incredulous and hostile.

           “Not enough seats, love. Ruby’s on her way.”

           “How would you know that? And why wouldn’t I just share a seat with Ruby?”

           “We text from time to time, mostly about you,” he says, his brows switching places as he raises one and lowers the other.

           “Shup up, you idiot,” she says with an eye roll. Pretty soon, they’re going to get stuck up there. At least, she thinks that’s what Mary Margaret would tell her. Killian chuckles deeply in response and she thinks she feels him squeezing his arm tighter around her shoulder. She knows he put it there to annoy her, but she doesn’t particularly mind, what with her irrational scare a few minutes before. “So, what the hell are you doing home this early?”

           “It’s like Sabine said, Swan, the vibe at the bar was totally off,” he says sarcastically, clearly poking fun at Will’s new friend.

           “So off that you couldn’t get anyone to come home with you? With that jacket?” Emma feigns shock, putting her hands to her cheeks and raising her brows, painting herself with a concerned expression. “Sabine seems to think you guys make a great match.”

           “Wasn’t really interested, I suppose. She���s better suited for Will.”

           “Please,” she scoffs, “she’s hot as hell, and earlier you literally said, and I quote, ‘I actually want to get laid tonight.’” Her take on his accent is truly terrible.

           His response is minimal, simply a shrug of his right shoulder as he works his way out of the chair that he wedged the two of them into. “You know you aren’t getting that drink from Will. You want a lime?” She nods, looking at him incredulously. They’ve lived together for nine months and he still acts like he doesn’t know what she drinks. It’s not as if they don’t drink together nearly every weekend.

~~~

           The game started only once everyone finally got their shit together. It’s true, Emma did create an awesome drinking game. A poster board and Mary Margaret’s artistic abilities quickly allowed for the creation of a game somewhere in between Candy Land and Monopoly. Okay, not really, but the concept is similar. Emma’s game states that the player roles a die and moves their game piece the appropriate number of spaces, then completes the task in the square they land on. Many of the tasks are drinking related. The game was created while they were all drunk.

           Emma roles the die and moves five spaces, commanded to drink because she’s from out of state. Killian must drink as well, and so must Sabine. Killian roles next and drinks because he doesn’t have brown eyes. Emma and David drink here too. At some point, Ruby does show up and complains about her date with the doctor named Whale. Emma thinks that anyone named after an animal cannot be trusted. Then she stops herself, remembering the stupid name Killian gave her.

           The game goes on for many rounds, and each of them get drunker with each role of the die. Eventually, Sabine lands on Never Have I Ever, and the loser must finish their drink, while everyone also takes a sip for each finger they put down. Emma, Ruby, and David all have one finger left, and it’s Killian’s turn to call a rule. He stares her dead in the face and smirks, one brow raised higher than she even thought was possible.

           “Alright, never have I ever…” he pauses, moving his right hand up to pinch his bottom lip and jut his jaw forward, his tongue running along his lip. Fuck, Emma thinks. I must be drunk. “Never have I ever been attacked in a park by the local wildlife.”

           Emma freezes and glares in his direction while everyone else laughs. She was holding up her pointer finger, but she drops it and replaces it with her middle. Then, despite the fogginess in her brain, she picks up her glass and takes another swig of her third perfectly made rum and coke.

           Once she finishes what’s in her glass, it’s her turn to role, and she lands on the one square that only one other person has ever landed on: The Iron Curtain- player to your left.

           In her drunken state, Emma’s not sure how well she hid her horror. She does not want to go behind the Iron Curtain. Only once was this rule played out, and it was the night that sparked silence between Ruby and Will for two weeks afterwards.

           Ruby cheers and stands up excitedly, jumping for joy and spilling her wine in the process. David groans and says she doesn’t have to do this. Sabine looks at Will, clearly wondering what the hell is going on.

           Emma has to go behind the giant metal sliding door and kiss someone. Specifically, she has to kiss the person to her left.

           When she looks to her left, all she sees is a sea of blue covered by thick black brows. “No way,” he says.

           “It’s the rules!” Ruby has never looked more excited, and her wolfish grin is very off-putting.

           “No! I’m not kissing Killian!”

           “Well I’m not kissing you!”

           “Oh, come on, we’re all adults here! It’ll literally take a minute,” Ruby tries to reason unsuccessfully.

           “A minute? How long do you think we’re going to be kissing? I’m certainly not kissing my best friend’s sister for a full minute.” He looks over at her and shrugs.

           “That’s a great point, Killian,” David chimes in.

           “Nothing from you, pal,” Will pipes up. “The rules state that she must go behind the Iron Curtain with the person to her left. She should’ve sat next to Ruby and this whole thing could’ve been avoided.” His attempt at lightening the mood is truly upsetting.

           “Okay, fuck this. If it’s gonna get everyone off my back, I’ll go behind the stupid Iron Curtain with stupid Killian Jones. Let’s go, idiot.” She grabs his right hand and yanks, noticing that it isn’t all that difficult to get him to come with her. Behind her, everyone is whooping and chanting kiss kiss kiss! as they shut the sliding door behind them.

           Once they're behind the door, the chants become muffled and she’s finally able to comprehend what the hell she’s doing. She’s quite drunk, mainly because Killian is always very generous with the rum when he makes her drinks. She’s not so sure about him though.

           “We’re not actually doing this, are we Swan?”

           “You know, I made the game, and now I’m really mad at myself. Why did you have to sit on my left?”

           He scoffs, although she thinks she sees a smile in his eyes. “I always sit on your left, Swan. We literally always sit in the same seats when we play this.”

           She rolls her eyes once again. “It’s the rules, we have to just suck it up and do it.”

           “I don’t want to suck it up, Jesus. So crass.”

           “Why are you so against kissing me? Do you really think it’ll be that bad, Jones?” She’s raising her voice slightly, for which she blames the rum. “We’re both drunk, we can just do it and forget it happened tomorrow.”

           “I am not even close to being as drunk as you are right now, Swan. And did you forget that you have a boyfriend? Because I didn’t.”

           “I don’t have a boyfriend, Killian,” she scoffs, backing to the wall and sliding down into a sitting position. He cocks his head and turns his body so that he can copy what she did, sitting on her left side again.

           “Trouble in paradise, love?”

           “No… I don’t know. Walsh is fine, it’s just…” she trails off, not sure how to finish the statement. Things with Walsh are just that, fine. But lately, she can’t help the feeling that things between them just aren’t right.            “Fine doesn’t seem promising to me, Emma. Are you sure that’s enough?” She’s honestly caught off guard by the way he says her name. Not love, not Swan, Emma. As if he means what he says, and cares about her answer.

           “No,” she replies so softly she’s unsure if she even heard herself. “I think we want different things.” He hums in response, nodding his head slowly and bumping his shoulder into hers.

           “I’m not convinced kissing me would make that any better. Maybe we shouldn’t do this. I really don’t want to kiss you like this.” For some reason, Emma suddenly feels herself grappling with a strange sensation. I really don’t want to kiss you like this. A pit has formed in her stomach and it feels as though someone has reached in and grabbed her heart, squeezing as hard as they could. Rejection.

           Why on earth would Emma Nolan be upset that Killian Jones doesn’t want to kiss her? Hell, she doesn’t want to kiss him! So, what is it about these words that threaten to send her over the edge? These words that make her feel so much more sadness than she thought was possible?

           “It’s fine,” she breathes, refusing to lift her head in his direction.

           “Swan,” he says carefully. “Emma… What’s wrong, love?” She’s never heard his voice sound so smooth and velvety and caring. Part of her wants to lean into him and take comfort in his softness, but the other part of her continues to replay his words over in her head. I really don’t want to kiss you like this.

           Rude of him to assume that she’s too drunk and sloppy for a kiss, considering he’s the one who made her this way.

           “Stop calling me that,” she finally says dismissively, getting up too quickly and stumbling her way towards the door.

~~~

           “Emma?!” She hears the annoying voice before she sees the face it belongs to. Walsh is pounding on the door, and frankly, he’s the last person she wants to see right now.

           “Did you kiss?” Ruby asks her with her grin still plastered on her face, and Emma rolls her eyes. She sees David looking at her from the corner of her eye, then sees him get up and go towards the door.

           “Emma, are you alright? Oh, hey everyone,” Walsh says when the door finally opens and he sees the party of people in the loft. “Emma, I got your voicemail. Are you okay? You were screaming.”

           “Did you call Walsh while you were behind the curtain with Killian? Emma, that’s sneaky! But you can’t get out of this one!” Ruby’s brows waggle in a way that resembles Killian’s, and Emma’s eyes launch themselves into the back of her head with a roll.

           “What does that mean, behind the curtain? Are you okay?”

           “Walsh, I’m fine. We’re just playing a game. The pipes creaked while I was calling you and it startled me.” Emma’s mood is completely shot, and she isn’t even really sure why. Frankly, she’s pissed at herself for being upset right now.

           “Well, where’s Killian? I’d like to know what he was up to during this game.” She can hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice for whatever reason.

           “How should I know where he went,” She snaps. “I’m not his keeper, I don’t track his every move.”

           “Emma, calm down. Jesus. Do you know what it’s like to receive such a horrible message while I’m at work and then have to come over here and see everyone trashed out of their minds? Would it kill you to just chill out for a second rather than jumping down my throat for asking a simple question?”

           “Woah, mate,” she hears from behind Walsh. Killian has made his way out from behind the curtain and is wearing a look of astonishment on his face.

           “No one asked you, Jones.”

           “Shut up, Walsh,” Emma retorts. The room suddenly feels much quieter than it was just a few seconds ago. Will has turned the music down and everyone has stopped shout-talking.

           “Excuse me?”

           “I said shut up. Don’t talk to my friend like that. Don’t talk to me like that. I didn’t ask you to come over here. In fact, if you had given me a heads up, I would’ve told you not to come over here.”

           “Are you serious? You literally left me a voicemail as if you were in grave danger, and now you’re mad at me for checking on you?”

           “You checking on me isn’t the problem here! The problem is that you clearly don’t actually give a shit and you’re just here to keep up appearances!”

           “What does that even mean? That’s absurd.” He’s rolling his eyes this time, still standing close to the still-open door. David and Killian are both behind him, eyeing Emma carefully.

           “If you really cared about me potentially being in danger, you wouldn’t have come over here with a whole stick up your ass. And you certainly wouldn’t have gotten upset when you saw that I was fine!” Killian purses his lips and nods, and David shoots her a discreet grin.

           Walsh scoffs, backing towards the door some more. “You know what, I don’t need this.”

           “Good,” Emma retorts. “Neither do I. Go home, Walsh.”

           “Where do you think I’m going? Christ, I swear. Go have fun with Killian, I guess.”

           “Don’t bother coming back, and don’t call me! I don’t wanna hear from you!” She’s shouting at him, as if he’s too far away to hear her, even though he hasn’t crossed the threshold.

           “Why would I come back? It’s always been obvious that you don’t want me here, Emma! I don’t even know why I ever bothered! A slut like you could never settle down!”

           She feels like she’s been punched. What grounds could Walsh possibly have to call her a slut? In her entire adult life, she can count the number of guys she’s dated on one hand. Her six-year relationship took up a lot of her time, thank you very much.

           Emma may have felt like she was punched, but at least she wasn’t actually punched. At least she didn’t have Killian and David standing behind her, taking in her insult and rearing up to punch her in the face the second she turned towards them. At least she didn’t have David holding her in her place while Killian swung his right fist straight into her jaw.

           If she wasn’t so shocked by what just went down, she would’ve found it impressive to see Killian and David working together to beat up the guy who just insulted her character. Killian likely wouldn’t have been able to grab Walsh and hold him in place with his left hand while his right hand swung into his face, but with David there, he was able to deliver a firm hit that must’ve made Walsh dizzy.

           “Get the fuck out of our apartment,” Killian hisses, practically spitting in Walsh’s face while he holds his collar with his right hand. Then, Killian shoves Walsh to the ground outside the door and David slams it shut.

           “Alright, Swan?” Killian’s blue eyes are on her, along with everyone else’s. She nods and slowly turns around and walks back to the couch.

           “Emma…” Ruby starts, but she’s clearly not sure where to go from here. Neither is Emma. What the hell just happened?

           “I’m fine. I just- I need another drink,” she says pleadingly, eyes on Killian’s. His brows tighten together in concern, but he nods softly, making his way over towards the kitchen.

           Emma sits on the couch and draws her own brows together, trying to comprehend what just happened. Walsh busted in and started accusing her of making stuff up, or, at least, that’s how she interpreted things. She was already heated, so having him come at her like that must have just set her off. Did she really have to scream at him like that?

           Then she remembers what he said to her, what he called her. Emma has been dating a bit more lately, trying to get over Neal, but she certainly wouldn’t classify herself as a slut, and she definitely wouldn’t say she’s been sleeping around. Walsh just said that because he wanted a relationship and she didn’t… right?

           Then she thinks about what happened after he called her a slut. Everything happened so quickly that she’s not even sure if she remembers it correctly. As soon as Walsh said it, he turned around, as if he wanted to insult her and then promptly leave. However, Killian had just walked out from the other room, and David was the one who opened the door when he first arrived, so the two of them were waiting for him when he turned around. The second they saw his face, it seemed like the pounced. It was almost as if the two of them had rehearsed David holding Walsh in place and Killian hitting him square in the jaw. It wasn’t hard enough to knock him unconscious, but it was definitely a hard hit.

Then, Emma’s thinking about Killian’s knuckles and how they must be starting to ache, so she stands abruptly, stumbles a bit, and makes her way into the kitchen. She’s certain that at least David and Ruby are watching her, but she doesn’t care.

“I was on my way back out, love,” Killian says when she reaches the kitchen area. She nods, her eyebrows still screwed up in concern and confusion. “Would you like your drink here?” She nods again.

“Okay?” She’s looking him in the eye and then glancing down at his hand and pointing at it.

He chuckles softly, “are you asking if I’m okay, or are you saying okay to drinking out here?”

“You,” is all she can say back, eyes still fixed on his reddening knuckles. It’s as if she’s completely unable to focus on anything else.

“I’m fine, Swan. You should see the other guy,” he jokes with a cocky smile, but his eyes soften when her expression remains unchanged. She steps forward towards him, stumbles past his body, and heads towards the freezer, pulling out a box of popsicles. She thrusts the box towards him and nods her head. “Swan, really, I’m okay.”

“You need to ice it,” she says, pushing the box towards him again. She thinks this action through and ends up opening the box and taking one out before forcing him to take it from her. “You only have one good hand left, take care of it.”

His face falls slightly at the comment, and she immediately regrets saying it, but he takes the box from her anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she says, suddenly feeling a wave a guilt that’s likely to drown her, tears pricking her eyes. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head and walks towards her, steadying her wavering body with his arms and drawing her into an embrace. “It’s alright love, I’m not mad. Everything’s alright.”

She feels like crying, she thinks she is crying, in fact, but she can’t hardly focus on that anymore. Not when she’s also focused on the way Killian smells like the ocean and the way that the smell mixes with the scent of leather lingering on his tight black Henley. He’s squeezing her in a way that makes her almost forget the weirdly terrible turn the night took.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, although she’s not sure why.

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything. I’m sorry he was such a dick to you.”

She shakes her head against his chest and continues to breathe deeply, warding off tears without even meaning to.

Suddenly, as they stand there with him holding her so tenderly, her thoughts draw back to where they were only minutes ago, and she feels that familiar sensation in the pit of her stomach. She moves from him, his embrace loosening, and drunkenly looks up at him with sadness stuck in her eyes. “You didn’t want to kiss me,” she states.

He hums lightly, sighing and nodding his head. “Perhaps we can talk about that tomorrow.”

“No,” she says, “I want to talk now. I won’t want to talk tomorrow.” What she means is, she won’t have the balls to talk about it tomorrow, without excessive liquid courage.

“I didn’t want to kiss you,” he confirms. “I didn’t want to make you kiss me because I thought you would feel bad about it afterwards. What with Walsh and everything,” he trails off. He clearly thought that they were in a better place than they were.

“Walsh is gone,” she says without thinking. “He was gonna be gone soon anyway.”

“Aye, love, I know that now. But I also,” he cuts himself off, sighing and pulling on his bottom lip with his right hand in a way that threatens to drive her insane. His left arm is still slung over her shoulders, but they’ve separated a bit. “I didn’t want to kiss you because of some game you were playing while you were drunk.”

“Oh,” she says, considering this. Perhaps her suspicions about her being too drunk to be kissable were accurate.

“What I mean is, if I were to kiss you, I’d want it to be more special than it would have been behind the Iron Curtain.”

“Oh.”

“Emma?” Ruby rounds the corner before Emma can comprehend what Killian said. “Are you okay, honey? Why are you holding a popsicle?”

She looks down at the melty mess within the white packaging. Killian chuckles and tosses it in the trash, then moves to put the box back in the freezer. While he’s in there, searching for room even though it was just pulled out, she leaves the kitchen and heads straight for the bathroom.  

           She feels slightly better now that she’s walking and not being suffocated by Killian’s muscular chest and intoxicating scent. At the same time, however, she also feels cold and alone.

She notes that it’s now completely quiet in the living room, as if the party died the second Walsh walked in. She feels guilty about being the root of the problem tonight, but honestly can’t really spend much time thinking about it.

           Once she makes it to the bathroom, she gets her cleanser and removes her makeup, then puts on her moisturizer. Throughout her adult life, if there was one thing she was good at, it was drunkenly taking off her makeup and completing her skincare routine.

           Once she gets to bed, she finds her thoughts migrating back to Killian. She thinks about the way his face tightened and his arm muscles rippled when he swung and hit Walsh. She thinks about the way his kind eyes stared at her and only her afterwards, as if he needed to make sure she was okay. She thinks about the way he smelled and how his soft warm chest felt against her face while he held her.

           Then, she thinks about what he said. If I were to kiss you, I’d want it to be more special than it would have been behind the Iron Curtain. What the hell does that mean?

           She would genuinely be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t thought about how it would feel to kiss him. His lips are luscious, anyone would have to admit it. And he’s always doing that thing where he pinches them between his fingers or runs his tongue along the bottom one. If it was anyone else, someone she didn’t live with and someone who wasn’t her brother’s best friend, she probably would have jumped on the opportunity to sleep with him months ago.

But thinking that he’s physically attractive and actually having feelings for him are completely different things. And lately, despite her constant annoyance, she also has feelings of longing and happiness whenever she sees him. Him saying that he would want their shared moment to be special is only adding fuel to the fire of him being crush-worthy. Her feeling rejected by him saying he didn’t want to kiss her also made her feel foolish for ever thinking that she didn’t have a crush on him.

The lights are off and she’s under her blankets, but she hears her door creak open and sees light flooding in the crack. She’s sure Ruby went home by now, so she’s not sure who would be breaking into her room. Rather than dealing with it, she pretends to be asleep until the culprit leaves. Once they do and she hears the door close tight, she rolls over and looks to her bedside table to see that whoever it was left some Advil and cold water for her, and grins, knowing it must have been Killian who dropped it off.

She’s fucked.

[nekojitachan]

Falling

This is one of my owed fics from the aftgremix ‘guess which fic is mine’ challenge - @filteredred asked for a story based on the prompt by  @veronicabuncherites 10.  you’ve been breaking into my car to sleep at night and I’ve let it slide because it’s been cold out but I have a date and I need you to find somewhere else (fine, go in my house/garage, I don’t care, you’re not messing this date up for me)   (found here), for andreil.

I hope I did it justice, of course the mind went in one direction and blew the 1k minimum out of the water. *sighs*

Ah... guess ‘T’ rating - lots of references to Andrew’s childhood in the foster system (nothing graphic, just the whole ‘NOT GOOD’ thing), and dating references. Also, mention of a character being homophobic. This is an AU PSU fic, too.

*******

Andrew internally sighed when he got out to his car and realized that Josten had crashed in it yet again. Normally he tried to overlook it (even though it was his car) because it was cold out, Josten was a fellow former foster kid and the idiot would just sleep outside on a bench or something rather than put up with his asshole roommate – it had absolutely nothing to do with big blue eyes and dark auburn curls which fell into them when not pulled back by atrociously orange bandanas and an impossibly perfect ass.

Absolutely nothing.

Josten was mouthy, temperamental rookie who enjoyed Exy way too much and had been damaged by the same fucked-up system which had spit out Andrew, to the point that Foxes’ favorite bet on the kid (other than him starting fights) was if he was gay or straight. It was almost through the end of the fall semester and Josten showed no sign of helping his teammates settle the bet anytime soon, as he ignored anyone not on the team and even then his relationship with the rest of the Foxes could only be considered ‘platonic’ at best.

Such as him sleeping in someone’s car to avoid dealing with his homophobic, envious, asshole roommate.

Andrew banged on the roof of the GS a couple of times to wake the idiot and avoid a repeat of Neil pulling a knife on him upon being woken up without warning; he’d much rather save the ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ for his date later that night.

As expected, there was the sound of muted cursing when Neil jolted awake, followed by movement as Neil scrambled to grab his meager things (and brandish the ever-present weapon) until he realized it was Andrew standing outside. Then he gave Andrew a tentative wave before he put away the knife and opened the nearest back door. “Hi.”

Andrew gave him a cool look until the freshman exited his car. “Again?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Josten dumped his ratty backpack on the ground and huddled inside his overlarge second-hand coat, the hood of the sweatshirt worn beneath it pulled over his head; he looked ridiculously young at the moment, looked ridiculously attractive with those blue eyes and sharp cheekbones and full bottom lip, which made something inside of Andrew clench hard when he thought about the kid in the foster system. “It was Seth and Allison last night, seems they’re back on this week.”

Huh, usually Renee gave Andrew some sort of warning when her bitch roommate hung out with the loser so he was prepared to find Josten camping out in the GS. “Well, if they’re back at it tonight, find somewhere else.” At Josten’s curious look, Andrew motioned to his car. “I’ve a date.”

“Oh.” Josten hunched his shoulders at the news then gave a lopsided smile. “That’s fine, it’s not supposed to rain or anything so I’ll be fine.”

The idiot was going to camp outside, Andrew thought as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The temps were barely above freezing as an unexpected cold front covered the South, and Josten just shrugged at the thought of ‘roughing it’, even if he was supposed to be from Maryland or some other Northern state.

Josten didn’t say much about himself, other than his parents were dead and he’d ended up in the foster system afterwards at a young age, and Wymack was unusually tight-lipped about the kid, too. All the man had told the team was that Josten was damn good at Exy and had ‘anger and trust issues’, and so was a prime candidate for the Foxes. He’d been Wymack’s and Kevin’s first pick for the team, and those ‘issues’ had basically ensured that not many other teams had wanted him.

Andrew found it suspicious that there’d been precious little in the kid’s file when he’d broken into Wymack’s office to check him out.

Upon meeting him, Andrew had taken in the attitude, the spewed insults, the almost desperate ‘don’t fuck with me’ air and the hidden knives, and gone off to his session with Bee to inform her with some satisfaction that she’d definitely be earning her pathetic paycheck that year.

After she met the idiot, she remarked about how nice it was, for the Foxes to have a new player so devoted to the sport – and an attractive player at that, and when Andrew gave her a blank look in return, produced the low hum she always did when she knew she’d scored a point.

So by all rights, Andrew should just walk away… but for some stupid reason he thought about Nicky taking in him and Aaron, about Wymack offering his brother a scholarship as well as him, about Renee and her knives and offer to teach him how to fight with them.

About a stubborn, mouthy redhead sleeping out in the cold.

“Look, Aaron’s going to be off with his girlfriend,” Andrew managed to get the words out without clenching his jaw too much, “and Kevin’s spending the weekend at Coach’s shitty place, so the room will be empty tonight. You can crash in Kevin’s bed, I’m sure he won’t mind.” The Exy addict would probably be pleased that his mini-me was getting a proper night’s sleep for once.

Josten gave him a wary look as he picked up his backpack. “What about you?”

“Hot date, remember? I shouldn’t be back tonight.” If all went well, at least; Andrew and Roland had been circling around each other for a while, and finally were to go out after Roland’s shift at Eden’s ended that night.

Josten gazed at him for a couple of seconds as if debating what to do or if it was a trap of sorts, but for the most part, the two of them got along – Andrew did let the kid crash in his car, after all, and Josten treated him with respect (or what Josten considered ‘respect’ – a bare minimum of antagonism and insults). “Okay, thanks.” He shivered a little as he shoved his bare hands into the pockets of his thrift-store coat. “I mean, it wouldn’t have been too bad, sleeping on the roof….”

“Come to my dorm room at seven-thirty,” Andrew said, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

“Okay,” Josten repeated before flashing him a wide grin and taking off, in the direction of the stadium, of all places. Andrew figured he was headed there to bother Wymack and get some practice in (and avoid his roommate as much as possible); he pushed all thoughts of the rookie striker out of his head (or tried to) as he got into his car and headed out for coffee and donuts.

Aaron was up when he returned to the dorm, eyes bleary and hair still flattened from bed. “Coffee?” he grunted out as soon as he saw Andrew; he’d spent the entire ride back from their game at Madison studying for an exam on Monday, and would head over to the cheerleader’s to resume in a little bit.

“With extra shots of espresso,” Andrew said as he set the drink carrier on the counter, along with the box of donuts. “And the cherry jelly donuts you like.”

His brother made a pleased noise as he shuffled forward to grab at the large cup of coffee. Andrew waited until he had several sips and a donut before he spoke again. “Josten’s going to crash here tonight.”

“Eh? Neil?” Aaron frowned as if trying to make sense out of the words and grabbed another donut. “What, he fighting with the asshole again?”

When wasn’t Josten fighting with Gordon? The upperclassman was an asshole to everyone, and Josten being a better striker than him meant that he was constantly goading the temperamental rookie on, much to most of the Foxes’ annoyance. “Seems that the asshole got back together with Reynolds.”

“Ah. Well, fine with me, I’ll be at Katelyn’s because of the Physio exam.” Aaron gazed at Andrew as if daring him to object.

“And I’ll be staying with Roland after going to Eden’s,” he shot back; they stared at each other before Aaron looked away first so he could have some more coffee.

It wasn’t perfect, their ‘acceptance’ of each other’s ‘dating’ preferences, but Nicky had forced the two of them to sit down and hash out their differences before he’d returned to Germany. Andrew didn’t step in with Aaron’s girlfriends unless there was proof they were using his brother for something (which unfortunately wasn’t the case with Katelyn – at least yet), and Aaron kept his shitty, homophobic comments to himself. To be fair, Aaron did seem to be working on getting better in not being such a bastard in that regard after finding out that Andrew was gay.

“Whose bed is he using?” Aaron asked once he finished another donut.

“Kevin’s.”

Aaron gave him an odd look like that before sipping his coffee, which made Andrew narrow his eyes. “What?”

“Just… the guy’s not bad looking, considering how half the Vixens flirt with him all the time, and you actually let him live after breaking into your car. Would have thought you might have wanted the excuse to get him into your bed.”

Andrew had the last bite of his cream-filled donut then brushed the powdered sugar from his hands as he gave his brother a cold look. “I didn’t kill him because it would have gotten blood all over the car.”

“A car which you still let him sleep in,” Aaron argued. “All the time.”

“Because he doesn’t fuck with it, he just sleeps there.” Why did he have to defend himself like this?

“You don’t let anyone drive that thing, and you nearly took off Kevin’s arm when you thought he scratched it the one time.”

Andrew gave him a look which clearly asked ‘your point’?

“And don’t think that I haven’t noticed the way you stare at his ass during practice,” Aaron added with evident relish. “You like him. You let him sleep in your car without stabbing him and now you’re letting him crash in our room because you like him, the walking disaster he is.” Aaron wrinkled his nose as if mildly disgusted. “So why are you going out with Roland, who’ll sleep with anyone, instead of Neil?”

“Because Roland will sleep with anyone,” Andrew quipped, just to annoy his brother. “And I don’t like Josten.”

“Ew, didn’t need to know that.” Aaron rubbed at his eyes as if trying to erase some awful image from his head. “And I think you’re just too afraid of being turned down. Don’t know why, you’re the only one he doesn’t give shit to all the time.” He seemed to think of something. “You and Renee.”

Yeah, because Josten knew that Renee wasn’t the goody two-shoes she appeared to be, had somehow caught a glimpse of ‘Natalie’ carefully hidden beneath the cross necklace and friendly smiles. Oh, Andrew was so curious about the rookie’s past, about what really had happened to his parents, about the old, faded scars on that runner’s body he thought about much too much….

“Your brains are scrambled from too much caffeine, it’s not looking good for your grades,” Andrew taunted as he grabbed another donut, which earned him a rude gesture from his ‘beloved’ twin. At least Aaron dropped the topic after that, in favor of brewing a pot of coffee then getting ready so he could leave for Katelyn’s.

Kevin finally stumbled out of bed an hour or so later, and perked up when Andrew told him he had to change the sheets of his bed since Josten would be using it later that night. “He’s sleeping here? Good.” He scowled at the coffee pot as if offended that it was only half-full then grabbed it to pour himself a cup. “Dad tried to give him and Seth some time to work things out, but he’s about to give him a key to the stadium so he can crash there rather than keep sleeping in your car or somewhere worse, especially with winter approaching.”

There was that damn clenching feeling inside of Andrew at the thought of not going out to his car on the weekends or even before practice during the week on rare occasions to find Josten asleep in the back, curled up in a small ball with his ridiculous hair a mess and pale blue eyes hooded with sleep, a sheepish smile on his face at being caught out there again.

Dammit, Andrew needed his date with Roland.

Kevin checked his phone while drinking his coffee, and must have gotten a text from Wymack about helping out with a certain Exy-addicted rookie hanging out at court because he cursed beneath his breath and whipped up one of his disgusting smoothies which he gulped down before he jumped in the shower, then asked Andrew for a ride to the stadium. For a moment, Andrew almost said ‘no’, but he figured he could always pick up a few things while out.

“After you change your sheets.”

“Right.” Kevin nearly tripped over his own feet as he ran back to the shared bedroom.

And there he was, the ‘great’ Kevin Day, Exy’s best collegiate striker (well, unless you were a Ravens’ fan), a complete airhead off the court (and outside of a history class).

Andrew couldn’t wait until he got to Eden’s.

He dropped off his roommate and ran a few errands, went back to Fox Tower to take a nap then went up to the roof to have a smoke. While he was there, Renee stopped by to chat.

“Gordon and Reynolds,” Andrew started as she handed him a mug of hot chocolate.

“Yes.” She frowned a little as if thinking of what to say, bundled in an old coat and a long, orange knitted scarf with matching mittens on her hands. “I was tired from the game and went straight to bed last night, and didn’t realize that Allison left at some point to go to Seth’s room – I thought she just got up for an icepack because of her elbow.” She appeared chagrined about that, since Renee usually paid better attention to things, but it had been an exhausting game and she’d taken a rough hit herself from an asshole backliner who’d crossed the goal line which had allowed Kevin to score a penalty point. “I guess it was so bad that Matt and Kelly heard them in the next room, so it’s no wonder that Neil went out to your car. Dan’s not happy with her.”

Andrew scoffed to show what he thought about that, and the effect it would have on either Reynolds or Gordon.

“Yes, I know,” Renee sighed before she had some hot chocolate. “At the least, Neil should have a reprieve in another couple of weeks when the two start fighting again.”

Ah, someone was showing her claws, how rare. “Or Gordon’s grades finally slip enough to get him kicked off the team.” Andrew pulled on a mock innocent expression when Renee gave him a hurt look. “What? One can dream, can’t they?” At the least, he only had to deal with the homophobic loser for another semester.

“I won’t even bother,” Renee said as she shook her head. “Matt feels really bad for Neil, he’s debating offering to switch rooms with him even though Wymack had wanted to give the two a chance to ‘bond’ as strikers.” A sad smile curled her lips when Andrew scoffed again. “It’s a shame that Neil’s too wary to make any friends, even though most of the team is trying with him, and some people in his classes from what I hear.” For some reason she gazed at him with an inscrutable expression while she spoke.

There were two main types of foster kids, in Andrew’s experience – the ones who tried so hard to be liked, who were friendly and outgoing and did their best to please, to make friends wherever they ended up, to fit in, to not be picked on (to be hurt and torn apart and outcast). Sometimes it worked out for them, and sometimes… sometimes it eventually became too much, the system (the abuse). Then there were the ones like Andrew, the ones who kept a low profile, who didn’t try because what good did it ever do them? All it ever did was make them stand out, make them more of a target, made unwanted eyes and unwanted attention (unwanted hands and unwanted touches) be drawn their way, made things worse.

Neil Josten? The boy with the striking (ha) pale blue eyes and tousled dark red hair just begging to be touched (to be grabbed) and too-pretty face? He clearly had learned that it was best to not be friendly, to keep everyone at arm’s length with a sharp tongue at the very least, and sharper objects if possible.

No, Neil Josten didn’t do ‘friends’. Yet he still seemed to trust Andrew enough to sleep in his car, and accept his offer of a safe place to spend the night.

Andrew found himself leaning forward to let the rush of fear as he gazed at the ground four stories below overwhelm that damn clenching sensation in his chest.

Renee remained a little longer while they finished the hot chocolate then left with the empty mugs, and Andrew went back down after another cigarette. He read some before he gave in to the urge to clean, which he put down to the fact that neither Kevin nor Aaron were around to bitch about him throwing out things or moving around their stuff.

It wasn’t that he wanted the place to look good for Josten, not at all.

Once that was done, he got ready for the night, taking the time to shave and style his hair. It wasn’t often he went out on ‘dates’, all things considered. He didn’t often find guys who weren’t interested in anything more than getting off who could follow his rules, who stopped when he said ‘no’ and didn’t cross clearly defined boundaries. Since Geoff had moved to Atlanta, Andrew needed a new fuckbuddy, and Roland appeared more than eager to be it.

It was a couple minutes before seven-thirty when there was a knock on the door, but Andrew didn’t mind since he was bored and had nothing to do. He opened it to find Josten on the other side, a wary expression on his face (one of his defaults, that or the sharp grin he wore when about to verbally tear into someone or step out on a court, or an otherwise blank expression) as he clutched the strap of his orange and white backpack in his hands, dressed in the usual worn jeans and oversized, light grey cotton hooded t-shirt. “Uhm, are you still sure….”

Andrew motioned him inside as he stepped away from the door. “You’re sleeping in Kevin’s bed and there’s a towel for you in the bathroom. Don’t touch anything else.” He thought about that for a moment. “You can have Kevin’s energy bars and drinks.”

“It’s fine, I brought stuff.” Josten tugged on the strap of the backpack. “A couple of Seth’s friends came over, they’re planning on hanging out all night so… thanks.” He gazed at Andrew, seemed to take in his appearance then glanced away quickly.

Andrew told himself that he was imagining the slight flush to those sharp cheekbones.

He left after making sure that Josten knew which bed was Kevin’s (as if the PSU bedspread wasn’t a giveaway) and swore to not leave unless he locked the door behind him, then went on his way.

It was quiet in the car without Aaron in the passenger seat and Kevin in the back, arguing over what music to listen to on the drive or how the Foxes had played that week (more like Kevin bitch about how the Foxes had played). Andrew hated to admit that he’d grown used to their presence, to watching over Kevin almost as much as his brother, to no longer being so alone. He didn’t need anyone near him, was fine eating by himself at Sweeties’ (and picking up some cracker dust to enjoy later that night and to take back to PSU for Aaron, for after his exam), and sitting at the bar at Eden’s instead of the usual table.

Roland smiled at him once the bartender noticed his arrival, and spent a couple of minutes flirting while setting him up with a bottle of water and a couple of shots which Andrew nursed over time, along with a couple of packets of the cracker dust. He enjoyed the slight buzz of the drugs and alcohol while watching the people around him, the looks he garnered for the tight fit of his black t-shirt and armbands, and the occasional remark from Roland or the other staff who knew him from him and Aaron working as barbacks during the summers.

Andrew would check his phone from time to time (message from Kevin about an ‘amazing’ practice and getting on him to join in on the evening sessions next week - which wasn’t going to happen, Aaron asking to be put out of his misery, a couple from Nicky which were the usual rambling updates, a note from Renee that Gordon and his idiot friends were being especially rowdy that night so it was good that Neil had someplace quiet and warm to sleep).

“Oh, it looks serious, whatever it is,” Roland remarked as he set another shot of whiskey on the counter in front of Andrew. “Hot sext? Nice and steamy?”

Andrew gave the bartender a bland look for a couple of seconds before he clicked his tongue. “No.”

The curt answer seemed to affect Roland, since he gave a nervous laugh and took a step back. “Ah, okay. Is everything all right?”

“It’s fine.” Andrew internally winced as he thought about how often Josten said something similar, that the rookie insisted that he was all right even if he’d been knocked on his ass and was barely conscious. He stared at a man who’d been hit on so many times in the last couple hours, who was attractive and outgoing and more than willing to get him off that night and….

Nothing.

Well, not quite nothing. He thought about how Roland’s eyes weren’t an enticing pale blue, how his hair was too dark to be auburn, the short dreadlocks weren’t messy loose curls, the bone structure of his handsome face too strong and broad, just like his build, and… and….

Dammit, he wasn’t Neil Josten. Somewhere along the line, Andrew’s fucked up brain (and hormones) had become fixated on a half-feral, mouthy redheaded Exy-addict who treated him with cautious respect.

He was so screwed.

(Not that night, though.)

Numb with unwelcome realization, he grabbed the shot to down it in one go, set the glass back on the bar then reached for his wallet to pay his tab. “I’m done for the night,” he declared as he stood up and set the cash on the bar.

“Wait, what? But I still have to work ‘til close,” Roland shouted as he gawked at Andrew. “What about later?”

Andrew gave him a two fingered salute and walked away without any true regrets.

It was after midnight when he returned to Fox Tower; he could hear noise from the suite where Josten was supposed to room with Gordon, but it was quiet when he approached his own. Considering yesterday’s away game, sleeping in a car and then practicing all day, Andrew imagined that Josten had to be exhausted and probably was asleep, if he hadn’t left to crash someplace else.

He was quiet as he entered the suite, which was dark with the lights turned off and nothing obvious out of place. Andrew left his keys on his desk and his coat draped over the chair, then headed to the bedroom. He’d stepped into the short hallway which led to that room, along with the bathroom and kitchen, when a shadowy figure appeared in the bedroom doorway.

It was Josten, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, hair even more of a tousled mess than usual, with a knife in his hand. “Oh, it’s you.” He sounded tired and confused.

Andrew clicked his tongue as he leaned against the wall. “Really? I let you stay here and you repay me with blood on the carpet? How rude.”

Josten’s face grew flushed as he glanced at the knife then hid the hand holding it behind his back. “Uhm, I… what are you doing back?”

That wasn’t a denial that he hadn’t planned on stabbing someone, how interesting. “Change of plans.”

“Oh.” Something like disappointment flashed across Josten’s face for a moment and then he summoned up a weak smile. “Give me a minute to get my stuff and I’ll be out of your way,” he said before he turned around to go into the bedroom.

As if acting on its own, Andrew reached out to grab onto the loose sleeve of Josten’s t-shirt; he didn’t know who was more surprised, him for not being stabbed or Josten by the action. “You don’t have to leave,” Andrew said, his voice rough for some reason.

Josten frowned for a moment but didn’t pull away – in fact he remained still but didn’t seem tense or upset about Andrew’s nearness. “But you let me stay here because you’d be elsewhere. Now that you’re here, I’ll go.” That damn lopsided smile appeared as Josten nodded toward the front door. “There’s always your car, right?”

“Stay,” Andrew ordered as he let go. “Kevin changed his sheets, don’t let such a monumental effort be for nothing.”

Josten gave him an intent look as he sheathed the switchblade. “It won’t bother you, me being here?”

Oh, now that was a loaded question. “You snore?”

“No.”

“Then get back to bed.” He met Josten’s searching gaze with a blank one of his own until the rookie finally did as he’d been told.

Feeling drained all of a sudden, Andrew went into the bathroom to get ready for the night, and was pleased to notice that Josten hadn’t left a mess when he’d used it; the towel he’d left out for him had been refolded and placed on the sink, the only sign that someone had been in there. Andrew didn’t waste any time before he went into the bedroom.

Josten was in Kevin’s bed, the duvet pulled up to his nose and his eyes closed, but somehow Andrew doubted that the kid was asleep. He took his time changing into cotton pants and a clean t-shirt for bed, and noticed that the duvet was tugged up even higher when he went to climb into his bed.

Interesting.

It should bother him, having a stranger in the room, but from all appearances, Josten had obeyed the ‘don’t touch anything’ rule since nothing but the towel had been out of place, and had been willing to give up his warm bed for Andrew’s comfort. As much as he hated to admit that Aaron may be the slightest bit right….

Fuck.

Tomorrow, he told himself as he contemplated smothering himself with the pillow. Tomorrow he’d deal with this… whatever with Josten. Neil. With the improbable pipedream faking sleep a couple yards away.

At least his fucked-up hormones knew enough to fall for a pipedream who had good tastes when it came to picking cars to break into, he consoled himself right before falling asleep.

*******

I have WAY TOO MUCH of a backstory built for this, obviously. Nicky never worked at Eden’s, just Aaron and Andrew during summer breaks, so he never got beat up and Andrew put on drugs. That meant he could leave to go back to Germany, but not before he put some extra effort into making the twins get along better (a LITTLE easier to do since Andrew wasn’t on meds). Kevin went to Wymack, not the Nest, when his mother died. There’s still some Moriyama drama going on - Riko gave him grief for not going to E.A. for university, and for recruiting Andrew, which is why Andrew is watching out for Kevin (Riko tried to pull a stunt when Andrew turned down E.A, but Kevin had warned him beforehand that something might happen, so Andrew feels something is owed and refuses to let Riko win).

And of course, Neil ended up in the foster system - Mary and Nathan killed each other one night instead of her running away, and the Feds gave him a new name and put him in the system. While not the horror that Andrew endured... it wasn’t good, especially w/ the Feds shuffling him around all the time.

Uhm, think that’s the main stuff.

Anyway, @filteredred, I hope you liked it!

Three more to go, since this week is probably going to be really busy, I’m going to try to work on them and not Ghost in You (I FINALLY finished ch14), and then get back to that story.

[shyficwriter]

Hope I'm not too late for this, sorry if so. Could you do one where reader one way or another shrinks into a young kid so Yondu has to care for her all the while trying to find a cure? Sorry if this prompt is too weird or if it's late, as said, and thsnk you none the less. Keep up the great work btw your Yondu x readers really warm my heart and make my day it is soooo hard to find platonic relationship stories with Yondu.

What an interesting concept! I don’t think I’ve seen anything like this before! [Edit: I just remembered there was an episode like this on Supernatural where a witch turns Dean into a kid, so apparently I have seen this before lol]

Hope you like it! (It came out way longer than expected for a drabble though! ha ha)Word Count: 6,274(Prompts are now closed!)“Watch out!”

Those were the last words you heard before turning to see a brilliant white beam of light burst forth and enveloped you.

That morning Yondu said you were coming along on a mission to steal a machine. None of you knew what it did, just that there was a client who had hired the Ravagers to steal it from a scientist on Calurnia. The most any of you could assume, based on how much the client had offered to pay, was that it was likely dangerous. And now you were staring directly in its crosshairs as it misfired.

The mission had actually been going pretty well up until this point. There didn’t seem to be anyone guarding the machine, so the heist was surprisingly relaxed. Gef was busy un-bolting the machine from the wall with Scrote, and you were waiting with the others to help carry all the other parts out once they were done.

In a way, you supposed you could blame Peter for your situation now, for if it weren’t for him calling you over to check something out you wouldn’t have walked in front of the machine at just the wrong moment when Gef slipped and fell on the controls. Now, you might have been considered one of the more bad-ass Ravagers on the team, but since none of you knew what the machine did, no one really would have faulted you in that split second for nearly peeing down your leg when the light hit you and your heart stopped in fear, assuming you were dead.

However, that’s not what happened. You didn’t die when the blinding light enveloped you. You didn’t burn to a crisp, or melt into a puddle, or develop oozing sores, or anything terrible like that.

It was over in a split second. The beam hit you, the bright light blinding the rest of the Ravager team, and then as soon as it happened, it was over.

Confused shouts picked up volume as everyone tried to figure out what happened. Of course, because the only seemingly visible trace of you was a pile of your clothing, they assumed you had been vaporized at first. Yondu was about to tear Gef a new asshole for his incompetence costing them a member of the team, until they heard a cooing noise over the commotion.

With raised eyebrows everyone looked in the direction of the noise, not sure what to make of it. Finally, Yondu cautiously walked over to inspect the sound emanating from your pile of discarded clothes, and was shocked at what he had found.

You had been turned into a baby.

You weren’t newborn, but you couldn’t have been much older than a year old. It took you a moment to realize what happened and why everything suddenly looked bigger. At first you thought you had be shrunken, but then you looked down at yourself to see that your hands weren’t your own. It was hard to see, as you were trying to fight your way out of your now much too big jacket, but you had the tiny arms of an infant, and you realized in horror that there was only reason that could be before you hear footsteps approaching you.

Yondu hesitantly pulled back the jacket to reveal a now much younger you. He picked you up and held you at arms length. He looked at you in confusion, “What the-?” is all he managed to get out, and that’s when your infant self actually did pee down your leg, though at this time you didn’t really notice as you were still panicking. All you could think was how you now embodied a baby, and how this wasn’t ideal.

Yondu wasn’t amused, having only narrowly avoided the mess splashing on him, though the crew would have found his expression funny had the whole situation not been so bizarre.

Yondu handed you off to Kraglin, who was less than happy having to cradle your squirming baby form; you didn’t exactly like being lifted and passed around. “What are we gonna do with her?” he asked.

“We gotta change her back, right?” asked Peter.

“We can’t figure it out now, boy. We stick around much longer we might get caught.” Yondu reasoned. He instructed Gef and Scrote to finish disconnecting the machine and load it onto the ship. Hopefully they could figure it once you all got back to the Eclector and had more time.

Scrote joked about just dropping you off at an orphanage on the way instead of worrying about it, but Yondu just glared at him and he got back to work.

To the dismay of Kraglin, you began to fuss. You didn’t want to wait, you wanted changed back now!

If only there was some way to let them know you were aware of everything, that you may look like a baby, but you still had your adult mind. Unfortunately for you, your reactions were quite limited due to your infant body. You couldn’t speak to tell them to piss off, so fussing would have to do.

It didn’t seem to be working. Kraglin just passed you off. “Here, entertain the baby, Peter.”

At first Peter started to refuse, but after a receiving a warning look from Yondu he relented, and begrudgingly took you in his arms. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I dunno, kid.” Kraglin said. “Just, play peek-a-boo or some crap until we can get this thing loaded up. Just keep her from fussing.” He then tossed Peter a shirt you had been wearing from your pile of clothes. “And here, might as well cover her with something.”

Peter rolled his eyes and groaned, he hated it when Kraglin called him a kid just because he still happened to be in his twenties. He sat on the ground with you, trying his best to make the adult size t-shirt fit around your infant body.

It wasn’t until now that it hit you that you had been stark naked this whole time. You were mortified, despite the fact that you supposed “baby butt” wasn’t really the same as being nude when you were an adult.

“How’d I get stuck with the baby?” Peter muttered when he was finished.

You stared at him in annoyance. You weren’t exactly fond of this situation either. You started to fuss out of spite.

“Keep her quiet, boy!” Yondu scolded.

You’d show him quiet. You fussed louder. Yeah, you felt childish, but you felt you could make an exception for these circumstances.

Peter tried playing peek-a-boo, but you ignored him. Unlike an actual baby, you actually had a concept of object permanence, and you didn’t exactly feel like playing along. Maybe if you fussed more they’d hurry up. The quicker you got back to the ship the quicker they could find a way to change you back.

Your fussing was cut short, however, when Peter got an idea. He started gently tickling your tummy, cooing out a “Cootchie Coo!” as he did so. Your fussing, to your chagrin, turned into happy giggles.

“Aw! Is the baby ticklish?” he cooed. “Is she? Is she?”

You wanted to curse at him to quit it, that you weren’t a child. But you couldn’t, because, well, at this moment you were a child and the only sounds you could make were happy giggles as he playfully wiggled his fingers over your chubby baby tummy.What you hated more, and you’d never admit, was that this was actually kinda fun. Within a few moments you no longer felt like fussing and found yourself actually enjoying the game. You decided to blame this on the fact that you were currently in the body of a baby. If you were full size you would have punched him, you were sure. Mostly.

Within a few moments more Yondu called for Peter. They were finished with the task and it was time to board the ship. This meant the game was over and you were surprised to find that you were actually kind of disappointed.

Once back on the ship a new problem had risen. Where would they put you? They couldn’t just strap you back into your seat like normal. The seats weren’t meant for babies. After some discussion it was finally agreed that Kraglin would pilot the ship with Scrote, while Yondu sat with you in his lap in the back. He didn’t really trust the other Ravagers or Peter to hold onto you properly, figuring they’d drop you or something, and so placed the task on himself.

You wanted to fuss at this. You didn’t want to sit in anyone’s lap like a child, much less your captain’s! However, once everything was settled you found you lacked the energy to start fussing. It actually was kind of comfortable sitting in Yondu’s lap, and he was humming a tune, just low enough for the crew not to hear over their conversations, which was slowly lulling you to sleep.

The next thing you knew you had woken up as you were being laid down on something cushy. You looked around and realized you were in the Captain’s Quarters and someone had laid you on the couch. Yondu and Kraglin were discussing the elephant in the room with the rest of the Ravagers from the mission.

“What the hell are we supposed to do with a baby?” Kraglin asked. “None of us know anything about babies!” He sounded anxious.

“I’m tryin’ to figure that out.” responded Yondu. “There’s gotta be a way to change her back. Gef, you get on that. Find Oblo and the two of ya work it out. Kraglin go with them, make sure they don’t mess it up.”

Gef nodded with a, “Yes, sir!” before leaving the room, and Kraglin begrudgingly followed, afraid he’d be stuck with ‘baby duty’ if he didn’t.

Scrote popped off again about being serious about tossing you in an orphanage and you glared at him the best you were able with your baby face. He wasn’t looking, of course.

You angrily, but carefully, tried to climb down off the couch. You’d show him. You didn’t know what’d you’d do, but you’d figure it out. When you successfully landed on the floor without hurting yourself you had a mind to check if you had any teeth to bite him with. A quick search of your gums with your tongue proved fruitless. No teeth. Damn. Could you walk at least? You attempted, and made a couple of wobbly steps before you fell to the floor. You rolled your eyes. You could work on it. You decided to resign to crawling on the floor for now and listening for a bit, looking around to see if maybe there was something you could throw at him.

While you were busy contemplating ways your infant form could cause Scrote bodily harm Yondu was busy scolding him. “We ain’t gonna just put her in an orphanage! She’s still a part of this crew, and that means we’ll figure it out! Get on out of here if ya don’t have anythin’ useful to contribute ‘fore I assign ya to diaper duty!”

‘Diaper duty? Shit!’ You had completely forgotten about that. How could this get any worse? While it would be funny to see Scrote have to change dirty diapers, you’d be damned if you were gonna get him change you. Geeze. You just knew you’d never live this down when you got changed back.

While you were lamenting Scrote hurriedly walked out of the room. After he was gone you heard Peter speak up again. “Uh, Yondu-?”

“What, boy?” Yondu snapped in frustration. He was just about done with this day. He didn’t want to hear anymore questions about what they were supposed to do with you.

“Where’s the baby?”

“What?” Yondu’s expression changed from annoyance to surprise. He looked around, noticing you were no longer on the couch. “Aw, what the hell!”

You sighed. You knew you couldn’t exactly expect to be given your space right now, but come on. You crawled out from behind the couch and into view before the guys could have a conniption.

“Oh, there she is!” Peter said in relief.

Yondu walked over and picked you up off the floor. “Why can’t ya just stay put?” he asked, not really expecting an answer, but getting a pout in response.

“Ugh, what’s that smell?” Peter asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Warn someone next time, geeze!”

You could smell it too. Ugh! What did Yondu eat today?!

Yondu looked at him. “Don’t blame that on me, boy! I thought it was you-” then it it them. Yondu’s eyes narrowed at you. “Why ya little-”

It was then you too realized, in mortification, what the smell was.

“Peter-” Yondu tried, but Peter was already halfway out the door.

“Sorry, Yondu! I got to go do that… thing… chores- you asked me to do, bye!” and with that he ran out the door.

Yondu yelled some swears at him as he left before turning his attention back to you. “Dammit,” he sighed, realizing he didn’t have any available crew left to do this dirty work for him. “Let’s just get this over with.”

***

The next day at breakfast Yondu noticed Peter had already finished eating and before he could get away stuck him with the task of feeding you. When asked with what and how Yondu grabbed a yarrow root from the bowl on the table and told Peter to mash it up and spoon it to you. Yondu then grabbed a fruit for himself and sat down next to Kraglin to eat.

“Looks like you slept better than expected.” noted Kraglin, surprised that Yondu didn’t have a “the baby cried the whole night” story to share that morning. After weighing the pro’s and cons the night before Yondu claimed he decided to bite the bullet and keep you in his quarters so the crew could sleep. A ‘selfless act’ from their captain. In truth he was worried about putting a baby in the trust of anyone else. What could he say? He knew his crew.

“I’m as surprised as you,” Yondu admitted, taking a bite, “but she slept clear through the night.”

“Can’t complain about that.” Kraglin said.

“Nope. How’s Gef coming on that machine?”

“Well, he’s not there yet. He got it running, and he turned an adult orloni into a pup, but he hasn’t quite figured out how to reverse it yet.”

“Well tell him to hurry up.” Yondu warned. “We don’t got forever with it, eventually we gotta hand it over to the client.”

Kraglin nodded and left, finished with his breakfast. Yondu turned his attention to you and Peter, finding you fussing and Peter an exasperated mess as he tried to feed you.

You didn’t want to be fed like a child, you were sure you could do it yourself! But it didn’t matter how many times you’d grab for the spoon or throw the food back at Peter, he wouldn’t get the hint. You might be in a baby’s body, but was it really that hard to realize that you were smarter than one??

“Dammit, boy! Hand her here.” Yondu said in annoyance after seeing the mess. “Ain’t ya never fed a baby before?”

“No!” Peter cried in irritation. “Have you?”

“Well, no,” Yondu admitted, “but it can’t be as hard as yer makin’ it out to be!”

Yondu plopped you on to table in front of him, took the bowl of mashed yarrow root from Peter, and tried feeding you himself.

You started to fuss again but Yondu just stared ya down. “There ain’t gonna be any of that, missy.” He scolded. “Now ya settle down and eat it, that’s an order!”

You pouted but obeyed your captain’s orders, allowing him to feed you the rest of the mashed root.

“How’d you do that?” asked Peter, clearly annoyed Yondu was having an easier time. He attempted to clean himself off with a napkin. He swore, if he didn’t know better, it was like you were actively listening to and obeying Yondu’s orders.

“Ya just gotta let ‘em know who’s boss, boy.” Yondu said smugly, clearly pleased with himself. You internally groaned. What you wouldn’t give to be able to talk right now.

***

Later that day Yondu found himself with some free time, but unable to pawn you off on anyone else to enjoy it. He didn’t trust more than half his crew with a baby, and the other half was either away on various missions or working out a way to change you back. Eventually he just resigned himself to staying in his quarters with you. Maybe if he’d turn on the TV it might keep you occupied as well.

It didn’t work.

You just weren’t interested in watching some boring wrestling match, so you kept trying to crawl away from the spot he had designated for you on the floor in front of the TV. After about the 5th time of having to retrieve you from wandering off Yondu opted instead to sit you in his lap so he could keep an eye on you.

You began to fuss again. You were bored! If he was going to keep you cooped up in here the least he could do was let you crawl around! Hell, you could even be practicing walking or something!

Yondu turned you to face him. “Enough of that. What do ya want?” He said crossly. Part of him felt silly. He knew you couldn’t understand him.

You pouted and attempted to talk, but you could only manage gibbering babbles as your vocal cords clearly weren’t as developed as you’d like them to be yet for holding an adult conversation. In your frustration you smacked at his arm with your tiny hand.

“Yer a mean lil’ shit, ya know that?” Yondu said, a grin threatening his grouchy facade. He had to admit, you were kind of adorable. “We gotta work on that.” With that he started tickling your belly and you squealed in happy giggles. “See, that’s better!” Yondu laughed. “Ya don’t need to be sitting around looking so mad all the time!” He started cooing and teasing you, saying things like “Gitchy-gitchy! I’m gonna getcha!” and “Now who’s a happy lil’ shit? I think it’s you!”

You giggled and wiggled under his attack. Had you been in your adult form you probably would have punched him and told him to fuck off out of embarrassment, worried that it would hurt your image as a hard-ass. However, since you weren’t, you just allowed yourself to enjoy the game, just as you had with Peter. You supposed it could be worse, you could still be bored, and actually you were kind of having fun if you were being honest. It wasn’t often you just got to laugh and be care-free, so you supposed you could enjoy it while it lasted, even if you would definitely deny anything of the sort once you got changed back. Again, you had your “bad-ass” image to protect, after all.

The same could be said for Yondu as well. The only ones who ever got to see anything close to his softer side were Peter, you, and Kraglin to an extent. What would his crew think if they saw their mean ol’ captain baby-talking and playing with a giggly baby? They might think he was going soft, and he couldn’t have that. But he didn’t have to worry about that right now. He could just be carefree for a bit and enjoy the fact that he got to see you laugh, even if it was the baby-version of you. You didn’t seem to do much of it anymore these days. Probably too concerned with needing to look tough around the guys was his guess.

The game continued for a bit more until Yondu was satisfied he had tired you out. You remained giggly even as your eyelids drooped and before long you fell asleep for a nap right in his lap. He figured you could sleep there for a bit while he watched the rest of the match on the TV. Looking down at you sleeping he chuckled quietly to himself.

“Cute lil’ shit.”

***

By around mid-day of the next day Gef still hadn’t figured out how to use the machine to turn you back, but he had turned 5 adult orlonies into pups trying. The only thing he had discovered was that if the beam hit something that was already a baby, it didn’t have any noticeable effect. This wasn’t exactly progress, but it was a slight relief to know that if they hit you with it again and got it wrong that you wouldn’t disappear or anything.

Yondu was growing increasingly agitated at the slow progress, not that he’d tell anyone he was actually worried though. Not only were you one of his best workers, but he did care for you and Peter like his own children. You were his little girl, just as Peter was his boy, though he’d never admit as much for either. He definitely wasn’t going to be happy if they couldn’t change you back.

After Oblo left to rejoin Gef after delivering the news Peter sat you on the ground to crawl around and turned to Yondu. “Yondu, what do we do if we can’t turn her back?” He sounded more worried now. Yeah, you were already like his younger sister, but this was ridiculous. “Like, do we… raise her? And just wait for her to grow up?”

You heard this and you stopped crawling. You sat on the floor in disbelief. That was one outcome you hadn’t considered. Could you really be stuck like this? Forced to live with a young adult mind inside of the body of an infant? You couldn’t handle that possibility. It wasn’t fair. You were already hating every moment of this, and now there’s a possibility you’d stay trapped like this? You broke down, and wailed like the infant you currently embodied.

“Oh hey! Hey! Shhh. You’re ok!” Peter tried to sooth as he picked you up from the floor.

“What happened?” asked Yondu, concerned. “She hurt herself?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t look hurt?” Peter said, looking you over as you continue to wail. “She can’t be hungry, we just fed her, and it doesn’t look like she needs changed.” He found a small brightly colored cup and in desperation to stop your cries tried to present it to you like a toy.

“I think that’s the first time she’s actually cried this whole time.” Kraglin noted. “I guess it was just a matter of time. It was actually starting to get weird.”

Just then Scrote walked by, and noticing your cries, coughed out the word “Orphanage!” as he walked past.

Yondu growled and called for his arrow, driving it to point right between Scrote’s eyes. “I told ya to knock that shit off!”

Scrote stood frozen in fear. “Sorry, boss! It won’t happen again!”

“Ya bet yer ass it won’t!” growled Yondu, “Go clean out the grease traps in the kitchen. Now.” He called back his arrow and Scrote scampered off to the Mess Hall, knowing the punishment was better than death by yaka arrow.

By this time you had accepted the cup from Peter solely for the purpose of throwing it at Scrote. You missed, of course, with your tiny baby arms not being able to throw it that far, but Peter took notice.

“Um, guys?” he asked, starting to piece some events from the past couple days together. “Do- do you think she can understand us?”

“What?” Yondu turned back and looked at the two of you incredulously. Surely you couldn’t?

“I mean, call me crazy, but she kinda doesn’t act that much like any baby I’ve seen, and it’s like she reacts to what we say. She stops fussing when you order her to, she never cried at all until just now when I mentioned the possibility that we can’t change her back, and she threw the cup at Scrote for the orphanage jokes. I’m really starting to think she can understand us.

You looked at Peter as he spoke and stopped crying. You excitedly clapped your hands and squealed. Yes! Finally someone noticed! Thank god, Peter!

Yondu and Kraglin looked at your display in disbelief and then to each other. That definitely looked like you understood Peter’s claim, but could that really be true?

“Hey,” Yondu caught your attention, bringing himself to be eye-level with you. “Are ya really in there? Can ya really understand us?”

Again you clapped and let a little squeal of delight. Yes! You could understand! Thank God! Maybe now they could stop treating you like a dumb baby!

The three men looked at each other alarmed. Peter quickly sat you down on the table. “Uh.. Ok. Two claps for yes, one clap for no, understand?”

You clapped twice, a happy grin on your face.

“Holy shit.” said Kraglin. “She’s really in there!” He almost seemed to pale at the thought. “So she understands exactly what’s been going on!?”

You clapped twice again, startling him. This made you giggle.

“I guess that would explain why she always looks so mad when we change her diapers then…” Peter said.

You frowned, and sheepishly clapped twice. You gave him a look that even he could read as “Trust me, if I could avoid it, I would.”

“Holy crap.” Peter said, and Yondu’s face showed he shared the same sentiment. “Ok, um, maybe this means she can help!” He turned back to you. “Before you got turned into… this, did you notice anything that might help us turn you back?”

You sadly clapped once. ‘No, I was too busy thinking I was dead!’ you thought.

Yondu frowned. “Don’t worry. We’re gonna get you changed back. Gef and Oblo are workin’ on it right now.”

You nodded. You, of course, already knew this.

Peter tried to think of a better way for you to communicate. “Um, do you think you can write?”

You weren’t sure, so you clapped three times, hoping he’d get the message.

“I’m going to take that as an ‘I don’t know.’“ he said. You clapped twice in response as he pulled a small notepad and pen from his pocket. He handed them to you.

You took the objects and attempted to write. Obviously you knew what words you wanted to say, and could remember how to write in your mind, however, you lacked the motor skills to accomplish the task. All you were able to produce was illegible scribbles. You looked up at him sadly and slumped your little shoulders.

“It’s alright,” Peter said, “We’ll figure it out. Besides, I’m sure you’ll be back to normal in no time!”

You didn’t respond, you were sure he was only trying to comfort you and didn’t actually believe it.

“I gotta admit, this does make diaper changing more awkward knowing she’s actually in there.” said Kraglin.

“Well I bet it’s been awkward for her this whole time,” Peter replied.

You clapped twice.

“Well, I mean, do we do things differently? She’s still in a baby body? Do we still help feed her? Or the diapers? She can’t even walk really, I doubt she can use a toilet on her own.��

You covered your eyes with your little hands in embarrassment, and that told them all they needed to know about that.

Yondu decided to speak up again. “Well, we don’t like it anymore than ya do, but since we don’t really gotta choice we’re all just gonna have to suck it up until we can change ya back. An’ that means ya gotta stop fussin’ all the time. Now we know yer in there an’ got a way of communicating ya can quit fussin’. Understood, missy?”

Begrudgingly you clapped twice. You were more than ready to communicate like an adult, but getting them to listen and understand was another thing.

Peter began to chuckle, “Ya know, once you get changed back, the crew’s never gonna let you live this baby-thing down,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

You threw his pen at him. You knew he was right. They would totally try to tease the hell out of you once this was over.

“Hey now, what’d I say about fussin’, girl!” Yondu scolded, a hint of play in his voice. He scooped you up. “If yer gonna keep acting like a baby I might as well treat ya like one!” he chuckled as he tickled your tummy, making your squirm and giggle in his hold.

The other two actually laughed, a little bit of the tension lifted. Knowing you were in there and knowing they could embarrass you to pieces by teasing you about being a baby somehow made the situation slightly better.

But one thing was certain. If you had any doubts before, you were sure you’d definitely never live this down now.

***

The next day went smoother. You were less frustrated now that the other’s stopped treating you as much like a baby wherever possible, unless they were just trying to embarrass you. Everything wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

That morning Peter asked if you wanted to try feeding yourself, and you happily tried, wanting some independence back. Unfortunately the little matter of poor motor skills came into play and it became clear that you were better off letting Peter do it for you.

Despite this, a lot of the frustration was still lifted off you, so you decided to have some fun during some off-time on the ship.

Kraglin was off helping Gef and Oblo with the machine, but Yondu and Peter were hanging out in the captain’s quarters cleaning their blasters. Now that they knew you weren’t going to go off and choke on small objects, or whatever else babies could do to accidentally harm themselves if left unattended, you were free to crawl around as you pleased. You decided to entertain yourself by throwing small objects you found on the floor at the guys and quickly hiding behind furniture before they turned. Really you just wanted something to take your mind off the fact that the client was going to be expecting the machine soon, and you were running out of time if they couldn’t figure out how to change you back.

Peter got up after the third time of being hit with your projectiles and made to come after you, threatening to sit you on top of the dresser if you didn’t quit. You avoided capture from Peter by slipping under the sofa, but Youdu pulled you out from the other side.

He laughed as you let a surprised squeal and kicked in his grasp. He flipped you upside down and tickled your belly. “I already told ya, if ya wanna act like a kid, I’ll treat ya like a kid!” he chuckled, trying to sound stern but not succeeding.

“Wait, you know what I just realized?” Peter said, looking almost shocked, with a hint of mischief.

“What?” Yondu asked, stopping his actions and allowing you to escape to the sofa.

Before Peter could respond with his realization Kraglin came bounding into the room. “Boss, we got a problem! The client is here for the machine!”

“We were supposed to bring it to him!”

“He says he got tired of waiting!”

“Well, stall him!” Yondu ordered. He turned to Peter and told him to grab some clothes from your quarters. He was going to take you and try to speed Gef and Oblo along.

***

Peter got to the room where Gef was working with the machine soon after you and Yondu did, and Yondu ushered him to shut door behind him.

Yondu told Gef that the client was there now for the machine, he had to reverse it now.

“I think it’s close!” Gef said. “Just let me test it real quick, I think I got it!”

Everyone stood back as he fired the beam at the orloni pup.

Nothing happened.

Yondu scolded Gef, and he hurried to try another combination of buttons. Again nothing.

Yondu looked furious and Gef scrambled to explain that he had only one combination left to try. This one was bound to work, and if it didn’t… well, there was nothing more they could do.

“Ya better hope this works then.” Yondu said coldly.

Everyone held their breath as Gef set up again, pushing the buttons in the final combination. The bright light filled the room and when it faded everyone looked to where the pup had been.

It had worked. It actually worked! The orloni pup was now full grown again!

Cheers of excitement filled the room and Yondu ushered Peter to get you ready. He wasn’t sure how long Kraglin could stall the client.

Peter was fitting you into one of your t-shirts and a pair of pants the best he could, figuring you would just grow into them as you changed back, when Yondu’s communicator went off. It was Kraglin saying he couldn’t stall the client any longer and he was heading your way.

“Ya heard him!” Yondu called to Gef. “Get a move on! The client will be here any minute!”

Peter quickly moved out of the way and Gef hastily plugged in the same combination of buttons as before.

Angry knocking could be heard at the door.

“Jus’ a minute! I’m comin’!” Yondu yelled back, motioning for Gef to hurry up and finish.

Gef pushed the last few buttons as the knocking began to intensify. The doorknob began to rattle and Peter quickly went to push his weight against the door.

Like before the room was filled with a blinding bright light as the beam flooded over you, and just as before it was over nearly as soon as it started.

You let your eyes adjust and patted yourself down as soon as you saw you no longer had the limbs or body of an infant. “It worked!” you said excitedly, standing up. “It-”

Just then the door to the room burst open, pushing Peter to the side as a very irritated Krylorian businessman walked in with Kraglin following nervously behind. When Kraglin’s eyes landed on you and he saw you were changed back a visible relief washed over him.

“Geeze, ya couldn’t wait for me to answer the door?” Yondu said, acting as if nothing strange had just occurred and feigning annoyance. “Ya must have been more excited for this thing than I thought.”

The businessman eyed him suspiciously, but seeing as he couldn’t find any faults to complain about he instead opted to just talk business instead. He paid Yondu the rest of the bounty and Yondu instructed Gef and Oblo to help Kraglin load the machine onto the man’s ship.

When the men had gone and it was just the three of you left Peter turned to you with a shit eating grin. “So-”

“Not a word.” You said coldly, a blush already creeping up your neck.

“That’s fine, because I don’t need any words to know this works on you now.” he said, wiggling his fingers into your stomach. It was this that he had realized earlier; a ticklish baby-you would very likely mean a ticklish adult-you, and he was right.

You smacked at his hands and told him to quit, biting back your giggles.

“I could’ve sworn I said something to ya about quittin’ yer fussin,’ girl.” Yondu interjected, a grin almost as wide as Peter’s as he joined him in the mischief, tweaking your ribs and laughing as you tried to wiggle away, laughter now bubbling from your lips. Really, he was just happy they were able to change you back in time, and glad to see a smile on your face.

“Aw, is our little hard-ass ticklish?” Peter cooed, knowing this would embarrass the hell out of you, “Is she? Is she?” he laughed, noting how you still squealed happily when he tickled your belly, despite your efforts to act like you hated them for it. You had that “hard-ass” image you needed to protect, after all. Even if you definitely didn’t look very tough at the moment.

Eventually they stopped, leaving you a mess of residual giggles. “You both suck.” you whined, grin still plastered on your face. You supposed you didn’t actually hate them for it, but they were definitely the only ones who could get away with that without you gutting them.

“Consider that payback for having to change your diapers.” Yondu chuckled, turning to leave and motioning for the two of you to follow.

“And for the constant fussing. You really were cranky baby.” Peter joked, laughing as you punched him in the arm.

The teasing from them continued throughout the day until it was time for bed. And then it picked up the next day at lunch when Peter asked if you needed him to feed you. And the day after that on a mission when Kraglin spotted an empty diaper pack on the street and joked about how he was glad they were able to change you back, because changing your diaper for three days was more than enough.Then there was all the times when you’d be alone with Peter and Yondu and they’d decide you looked “too mean” and decided to team up and “cheer you up” with tummy tickles.

You were right. You were really never going to live it down.

[too-strange-for-earth]

Memories (6-?)

Paring: Jim Hopper x Daughter! Reader, Nancy x Reader (platonic), Jonathan x reader (platonic), Steve x reader

warnings: bad writing, all over the place, Russians, language, going off canon, fluff, season 3 spoilers.

Tags: @bandsandanimefreak @fortheloveoflamp @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @addictwithaheavydirtcheetah @daddyuwuss

A/n: ok so, this is a long ass series and I’m hoping that it will end in chapter 8 but who knows. Also, I’m running souly on coffee so if my writing becomes worse than it is, sorry.

Masterlist

Prompt list

(1)-(2)-(3)-(4)-(5)-(7)-(8)

-

No one was expected to see someone who was claimed dead at a mall. First off no one is expecting to see someone alive after being called dead for a year let alone a month. But Hawkins always finds a way to keep things interesting.

Starcourt Mall 2 looked very similar to the first one, just without the secret Russian base. (Y/n) was hoping to have a normal girls day, key word hoping; but as always there were rumors. Some were good others not so much. The bad ones went from her running off with a man to killing billy herself and couldn’t deal with what she did and ran off.

“Is that (y/n) Hopper?” A few girls nearby were whispering amongst each other. “I thought she was dead!” One said watching the (y/h/c) walk past them smiling at her sister and friend as they walked to the food court.

“Apparently she ran off after the fire because she couldn’t deal with the loss of her friend” the three were glad that the rumor her Dad and Joyce spread got to the rest of hawkins so they could be in public. “poor Steve, he couldn’t keep a girl cause he missed Hoppers kid.” Right as El went to get the food Tommy H ruined the day.

“Hey look, it’s the town other freak. Zombie chick!” With something so stupid you’d think it wouldn’t catch on, but of course since it was Tommy who said it, it did. Everyone stopped to stare at the girl in shock. Did she change? Did she really run off with a man? Or did she kill billy?

“Yep you caught me.” (Y/n) laughed helping max and el carry the food to the benches. “So how did you do it? Killing billy and escaping?” Tommy smirked sitting behind her. Max stiffened hearing the death of her step brother, she might not have had the best relationship with him, but there were days where they had fun.

“You want to know?” She smirked back turning in her chair to face him. This was a dangerous game she was playing, it could either make the rumors worse or make Tommy leave. “What I did to Billy, was something any girl could do.” She whispered to the freakled boy.

“All I had to do...” she put her hand on his face looking into his eyes. “Was tell him...” at this point no one knew if she was flirting or joking but whatever it was Tommy was putty in her hands. “To fuck off and leave my sister, max and I alone. Stick your head somewhere else, maybe put it back up your ass.” She said moving her face away from the flustered yet angry boy.

“That was amazing!” Max said laughing in her chair with El. “You have to teach me how to do that!” The girl continued on about the look on Tommy’s face while they were eating. When (y/n) moved to grab her drink she noticed someone familiar, and not the good familiar either.

His squar face, hair that was almost pitch black, and eyebrows that could fall off his face if he scowled anymore just set the girl off. There were definitely more Russians in Hawkins than they thought. “Ok I’m sorry but we have to end this girls day short, we have to talk to robin and Dustin.” (Y/n) said quietly to the girls.

“What? Why” max was more confused than ever, who did she see? “Reasons. Now let’s go” (y/n) picked up her trash and threw it away and took her friends to the sailor themed ice cream shop.

“Ahoy ladies-” Steve cit himself off when he saw the panick in his girlfriends eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He lead the three girls to the break room behind the counter. “I saw them Steve. They are here! We need to find Dustin!” (Y/n) said in a hushed voice not wanting anyone to over hear their conversation. Steve could tell she was about to have a panic attack, he didn’t know what to do in these situations. But he guessed pulling her into a hug could help her calm down.

He gave Max a questioning look and mouthed ‘who’ as he tried to calm (y/n) down. “I think the Russians are back in Hawkins. Maybe some never left?” Max guessed and looked to El who just nodded. “Oh shit.” The four of them turned to look at the door to see Dustin with a scoop of USS butterscotch.

“How much did you hear?” Steve was getting more protective by the minute, he didn’t want to lose her again. He gave her a quick squeeze and let go of her shaking form as she ran a hand through her hair and nodded a thank you to Steve. “Enough to know that we are in deep shit.” Dustin moves to be closer to the three girls as Steve started to pace.

“Dustin I need your Walkie Talkie.” Max said holding her hand out, he was going to complain but received a glare from (y/n). The minute Dustin gave it to her Max turned it on and made sure it was on the right channel. “Guys we have a Code red.” Max said, when no one answered she repeated herself.

“That’s it. (Y/n) El, lets go find the dweebs.” Steve knew that he couldn’t let (y/n) go, what if she would be captured again? He can’t let her go through that again!

The four of them went to Lucas’s and Wills house to picked them up in Steve’s new ish car. When they reached the Wheelers house everyone filed out of the car. Steve knocked on the door three times as soon as Steve was about to knock the fourth time Mike answered. “Why is there a code red? What happened?” Mike asked letting everyone in. “Because some people decided to not leave Hawkins after Starcourt.” Dustin said to Mike opening the basement door.

“What do you mean?” Mike sat down on the couch with El holding her hand. “Russians Mike, Russians are back and we need to get as much wire as we can get. (Y/n) and I can go get the wire if you and Lucas can go ask Mr. Clarke. El and Will can go to the radio and make sure everything is still there, and max can go with Steve to tell Hopper. Don’t argue this is the best we can get so far.” Dustin listed if jobs and teams of two.

Hopefully this will work, hopefully this plan doesn’t backfire, and hopefully the Russians won’t recognize anyone...

(Part 7)

[liquormixintellect-blog]

Dusk til Dawn

Pairing: Harry x Reader

FRAT! HARRY HERE TO GIVE YOU EVERYTHING YOU EVER NEEDED AND MORE. I’ve been really excited about starting this and I’m going to try to have chapter 2 up by Sunday if this is well received!!! Also I added a teensy weensy bit of smut! Enjooooy <3 I would love feedback

Chapter 1

You knew you were that bitch. There wasn’t a more simple way to put it. You were confident in your inner as well as physical beauty, and you knew that’s what people found most intriguing about you. The way you could command attention whenever you pleased but you managed to obtain humility in the process. There was a lot of guys and girls willing to challenge that.

As your junior year of college was in full swing, parties became a daily occurrence. With the fraternities and sororities at the forefront of those events.

So when you walked into your 9am that morning, you weren’t surprised to hear that’s what the entire class was discussing. You tiptoed through the crowded rows of seats, normally you would arrive a tad bit early to avoid maneuvering through people but that extra ten minutes of sleep did something to amazing to your soul. Your best friend was gnawing on the base of her mechanical pencil the moment you sat down. You weren’t the type to necessarily have a friend that was closer to you than every one else but Denver was different. She was really easy to speak to and always always had your best interest. You two had been put in the same dorm freshman year and when you found out she had the exact same major as you, it only further sealed the deal.

“So, are you going to the party tonight?” Denver wasn’t making eye contact. Instead she was facing straight forward as if she was listening to the instructor to avoid being called out for talking. You took the moment to actually evaluate your best friend.

Denver was adopted. For a long time she struggled with her physical self due to attempting to conform to european beauty standards, but you took pride in helping her truly love herself and her culture. How could she hate something so unique and original?

She had extremely thick and long black hair that she kept tied into a high ponytail. Only a few stray pieces were kept out to adorn her face. Her skin reminded you of cocoa with just a few tablespoons of milk mixed in to create a dewy brown. She was beautiful. And you may or may not have had a intimate experience sophomore year when a thunderstorm cut off all of electricity on campus, but that was a different story for a different day.

“I don’t think so D! I feel like I’ve grown out of them. Aren’t they all the same at this point?” You were speaking while simultaneously jotting down notes. Unbeknownst to you, a certain curly haired frat boy was behind you eaves dropping.

“Oh no lovie. This one is going to be different.” You and Denver turn around to meet a pair of emerald eyes under arched brows.

“Lovie? Harry you’ve been throwing the same lame ass parties year after year.” Denver muffles her chuckle at your comeback.

“Then why do you make an appearance year after year?” You rolled your eyes and adjusted yourself to where you were facing forward again.

He was right. You did make an appearance frequently but what else were you supposed to do when everyone who was worth spending time with was at these said events? And where else would you find people to hook up with? And what if you were looking for a certain somebody to hook up with?

The rest of the class period was spent in silence, and you were kind of grateful for it. You actually enjoyed your major and everything about it only further intrigued her.

“All right. We’ve got an exam coming up at the end of next week so please stay on top of your notes and online assignments. You all are dismissed.” It didn’t even take a second for the sound of backpacks zipping to overwhelm the room.

Denver is right behind you as you make a beeline for the door.

“Ms. Y/L/N? May I speak to you for a moment?” Your professor hasn’t looked up from his desk as he speaks to you. Denver gives you a sympathetic look.

“I’ll wait for you in the hallway girl.” You nod.

Harry brushes past you intentionally nudging your shoulder.

“Oooh! Someone’s in trouble!” He throws his head back to laugh.

You didn’t know if you wanted to suck his dick or kick his ass in that moment.

Your standing in front of your professor awaiting his response.

“I’m so pleased with your work this semester young lady! You’re on track to make the highest overall grade I’ve ever given. If you’re able to keep that up, I’d love to get you into a summer internship program that could possibly guarantee you a job after graduation. How does that sound?”

You can feel each beat your heart makes.

thump thump. thump thump.

Fuck! Was this actually happening? Was all of your hard work paying off?

“Oh my god! YES! You have no idea how much this means to me professor peterson.” You’re so eager to relay the news to Denver that you take off before saying goodbye, only to make a quick ball change and jog back in to bid farewell.

As you catch back up to Denver, your brain is moving far quicker and your mouth can’t quite keep up.

“ohmygoddenverhesaidimbasicallyageniusandhesgonnagetmeajobandohmygoodnessthisiseverythingiveeverwantedandmore!” Your chest is rising and falling at a quick pace. Denver is uncontrollably giggling.

“That’s great babe! I’m so excited for you.” She pulls you into a tight hug. Denver then wraps her left arm around your shoulder while utilizing her right hand to create a nonexistent rainbow.

“Everything is up from here Y/N. I feel it in my hooha.”

You both break out in an uncontrollable laughter and you take her arm in yours hooking at the elbow.

“How I’d love to see the two of you like that. With no clothes. In my room.”

The speed at which the both of your heads whip around must’ve surpassed a world record.

Your met with harry and his best friend Benji.

“Ew. Did your cis gendered ass just sexualize a relationship that, by the way, is completely platonic between two women to fit whatever sick fucking fantasy is in your head!?” Denver growls in disgust.

Freshman year of college introduced you and Denver to a new way of woman’s empowerment and you haven’t been the same since.

“Don’t mind Benji, he thinks with his dick too much. Will we be seeing you two tonight?” You both exchange looks before simultaneously giving a stern no.

You both whip back around and continue walking.

Harry puts on a quick jog to catch up.

“Seriously!? I would love to see you both there, we all know you’re the life of the party.” Harry’s grin makes a slight curve revealing both of his dimples along with his adorable bunny teeth. His eyes are gleaming today and his eyelashes delicately flutter everytime he blinks.

Oh god. Were you daydreaming about Harry?

“Okay fine, we’ll go.” You huff a bit before shifting your attention to Denver who looks nothing short of annoyed.

“Great! I’ll see you both there, and cheer up Denver. You never know what can happen on a night of fun!” He gives you both a quick wink before he confidently strolls away.

“Y/N! Did you seriously just fall victim to the patriarchy? We’re better than this. Did you see the way Benji undressed us with his eyes?” Denver’s shaking her head.

“It’ll be fun girl. We can get dressed really sexy and do eachother’s makeup!”

Well. Denver would be doing majority of the work, you weren’t particularly skilled in the beauty department besides a basic everyday look.

*****

“Quit blinking Y/N!” Denver’s got her hands wrapped around your head at this point.

“You want me to stop blinking yet you’re about to poke my eye out?” Denver finished applying a touch of white eyeliner to your bottom lash line to give you a more awake and vibrant look. Your anxiety is causing your knees to bounce up and down. Were you really this nervous for a guy?

“Girl what are you so jittery for?” Denver cackles. You hadn’t been completely honest with your best friend but how could you be when you weren’t completely honest to yourself? Maybe. Just maybe you were excited to see harry tonight.

“Oh, nothing. It’s a habit. Should we get dressed now?” Your weak attempt at changing the subject doesn’t go unnoticed to Denver.

You quickly shoot up from her vanity and head to her closet. You two always shared clothes especially when it was time to make an appearance. Denver was usually the type to spend the extra dime on her apparel as well so you knew she was stocked with goodies. You settle on a navy and floral slip dress that leaves little to the imagination.

Accentuating your chest with a single pearl pendant.

You decide to dress it down with a pair of white trainers.

Your gazing at yourself in the floor length mirror before shifting your attention Denver. Who decided to take a different route with a utility style skirt that just brushed past her bum as well as a sheer white button up blouse with a bralette peaking through.

You did say you knew you were that bitch, it’s only right your best friend is as well.

Fluffing your hair one last time until it settles in it’s natural state, you grab your wristlet and head out with Denver.

****

The bass of the music is vibrating the floors, so much that you almost mistook it for an earthquake. There’s so many things happening at once that you’re not quite sure where to focus your energy.

A group of guys on one half of the large frat house are playing a serious game of beer pong with profanities strung left and right. A group of what you presume are freshman girls are huddled watching those same boys secretly hoping to be chosen.

You take a mental sigh. Your thoughts are interrupted by Denver rapidly back handing your upper arm.

You look at her face and follow her eyesight. Your eyes meet Harry who’s sat next to a gentleman you’ve never seen before. His hair is perfect styled with one single strand dropped to dangle just in front of his eye.

“Y/N, who the fuck is that!” Your giggling at Denver’s forwardness. Before you know it, she’s grabbed your arm and drags you over to Harry and his new friend.

“Hey Harry. Who’s your friend?” She was straight the point, wasn’t she?

“I admire your confidence.”

Okay. So new guy was a bit more confident than we anticipated.

“I have a few other things you could admire.” She takes a slow wet lick across her bottom lip before tucking her it into her mouth.

“Okaaay.. Let’s not do this right here.” You could cut their sexual tension with a knife.

New guy stands up before properly adjusting his clothing. He extends his hand towards Denver.

“Zayn.”

“Denver.”

Denver was bold.

They’re staring intently.

“Did you want to grab a drink?” Zayn then tops Denver’s boldness by tucking a loose strand behind her ear to get a better view of her beauty.

“I’d like that.” You just know she’s losing her shit inside.

Denver gives you a wink which makes Zayn take a breathy laugh before escorting her to the kitchen.

You shift your weight to the opposite leg and adjusts your posture.

“I knew she’d like him.” Harry takes a sip out of his red solo cup.

“So you planned this?” Your left eyebrow is raised, slightly amused by his effort.

“How else was I going to get you alone tonight?” He takes a step closer to you, his cologne of choice invades your senses. Making you feel a million things at once.

“Harry....” before you can continue, the entire house erupts in cheers. Harry puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the ruckus.

“Harry, mate! You’ve gotta join us.” Benji takes Harry into a headlock and guides him further in leaving you to stand amongst the crowd. You cross your arms across your chest, annoyed that your private moment was interrupted.

“Give me a second lovie.” There goes that stupid pet name, the pet name that makes your heart skip a beat every single time he calls you it.

The beer pong game that you once observed beforehand had escalated. With everyone in the house focusing their attention on the table. Benji and Harry were on one side with another two of their frat brothers on the other.

“You can’t randomly add Harry in! That’s cheating!” The two boys are making a fuss.

“I almost single handedly kicked both of your asses. I do what I please!” Benji counters.

There’s one last cup on the opposite side of the table, Harry must come in clutch during situations like these.

He raises his wrist and adjusts it just right with one eye closed to evenly line himself up. With one slight flick of the wrist, a small drop is heard signaling his success. The crowd erupts into an even louder cheer causing Harry to smile as wide as possible. He was in his element.

“I never knew you had so much finesse.” You say as Harry sways towards you.

Your both settled into the corner you initially started in, with a round of shots accompanying you.

You throw one back and make a face of sheer disgust. Harry can’t help but lose himself over your reaction.

“Not funny. That was disgusting!”

“Well lovie, we’ve got a couple more to go so you betta get used to it.”

He splits the shots between you two equally and you decide the best decision would be to quickly throw yours back and get it over with. Or so you thought.

“So how do you know Zayn?” You break the silence between you two and you’re pretty sure you can feel your shots catching up to you.

“We were best mates before college, but we drifted a bit after attending separate institutions. I found out he was transferring and I was excited as hell. We could start hanging out again like we used to. It was just hunch that told me Denver would go crazy over him.” He’s sipping his wine cooler while laughing and shaking his head at his own success.

You knew what he was saying but you weren’t exactly processing it. You’re lost in his emerald irises. The tequila was getting the absolute best of you that not even Harry was expecting what you were planning to do next.

He looks at you awaiting some sort of rebuttal.

You take both of your hands and cup his cheeks pulling him in for a sweet yet tender kiss.

Harry doesn’t budge, instead he begins to work his lips against yours giving your ass a gentle squeeze.

You pull back and take a deep breath.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

Harry takes his lips between his fingers as if he was savoring the moment. He takes your hand in his and guides you up the long staircase into an even longer hallway with multiple bedrooms. The first one on the left is his.

He pulls you in and shuts the door with your body against it. His lips are moving at a different pace, almost like a sense of urgency. Like he’s been dying for this moment to come. He hikes your dress up and wraps one of your legs around his waist.

Somewhere in the timeline of you knowing him, he must’ve picked up that you were on the aggressive side in bed, enjoying every dominant move he made.

“Fuuck Y/N.” His voice is hoarse as he works his way from your lobe down to your collarbone with sloppy and wet kisses. His member is growing rapidly.

His actions are only leaving you craving more. Harry moves your panties to the side to garner access. He pulls down his jeans and boxers. He then uses his tip to tease at your entrance. A hiss leaving his lips.

“H-Harry.. I want you.”

That was all he needed.

He slips into you with ease, picking a pace that’s quick and has your back slamming against the door. All you can do is scream at the pure euphoria not caring who in this house heard you.

“HARRY!” You’re screaming his name repeatedly, he adjusts his hips to hit your sweet spot. He grabs your face and forces you to look into his eyes. His brows furrowed, beads of sweat dripping down his temple. A side of him you’ve never seen, but a side that you want more of.

It doesn’t take much for you to both reach your highs, riding them out simultaneously.

He properly sets you down adjusting your dress for you.

“Please don’t tell Denver.” That’s all Harry hears from you before you scurry out of the door.

[shinjekinootp]

The Angry Coffee Shop

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Levi/Eren Yeager Tags: Platonic Hange Zoë & Levi, Based on a Tumblr Post, Drunk Sleepy cute Levi, Domestic Fluff, Mainly focused on Drunk Brootp Levihan, With some cute Ereri in the background Summary:  Eren comes back late from work to an unusual scene. Levi passed out on the floor, surrounded by empty bottles, spilled chips, and a notebook reading: Flat white: Fuck you 

*based on the Angry Coffe Shop meme from Tumblr*

You can read it here or on AO3

“Ugh, I’m so thirsty.”

Levi rolls his eyes “You’re literally in a coffee shop, just get yourself something to drink.”

“Not that kind of thirst dummy. I’m thirsty for booze. Customers have been complete assholes today. I need to get shitface. For my mental health.”

“That does sounds pretty good,” he says, giving a final sweep to the counter. “Your place or my place?” Hanji doesn’t get the chance to reply before Levi is speaking again. “Let’s go to mine. The shithole you dare to call an apartment is dirty enough when you expect me to come over.”

Forty-five minutes later, they are sitting on Levi’s couch, a glass of red wine in their hands, the coffee table crawling under various snacks.

“Sometimes I wonder how we make it through the day without murdering anyone,” Hanji begins. “How hard can it be to order a drink without being a pain in the ass? You wait in line for your turn, order something from the board, pay, and wait patiently for it to be ready.”

“Erwin doesn’t pay us nearly enough to deal with those shit head all days,” Levi agrees. He empties his glass and pours himself a new one. He makes the red liquid swirl and takes a sip of it. He savors the bitter taste, as Hanji digs into a bag of chips.

I swear to god, if I found any crumble on my floor-”

“Yea I know, you’ll make me lick it until it’s clean again,” they dismiss him, taking a handful of doritos.

“And clean it with bleach right after. Spit is gross.”

Hanji laughter fills the room. “Where’s pretty boy uh? I thought he’d be here.”

“I don’t know. Probably still at work” He looks at his phone, and sure enough there is a text from Eren informing him he’s staying overtime and not to wait for him.

“Let’s play a game!” Hanji suddenly screams.

Levi frowns “No strip poker this time. I don’t think I can take the sight of you wearing nothing but your glasses one more time. Plus I had to get rid of my rug after you dirty  butt sat on it.”

“I will let you know my butt is very clean. Petra can vouch.”

A giggle escapes Levi’s lips. Under normal circumstances he would be concerned by that. But with the alcohol running through his veins, his clouded mind doesn't care.

“So the game is simple. We both tell a story about a bitchy customer we had, and the one who has encountered the biggest prick wins.”

Levi tilts his head to the side.“Isn’t that basically complaining, though? We’re already doing it all the time. That’s hardly a game.”

Hanji is thoughtful for a moment before they clap their hand victoriously “I know! Each time one of us wins a round; they have to take a shot. That should spice things up.”

“Alright” Levi says, slumping to the ground and reaching for the bottle, a smirk on his lips “Game on then.”

Hanji laughter echoes through the room as they struggle to form words. “This- This is priceless, how come you’ve never told me about it before?”

“Didn’t want to risk Erwin hearing about it,” he downs his shot in one swift motion, barely grimacing as the liquid burn his throat.“It’s not like I’m actually the manager.”

Hanji rolls on their back, as a new fit of laughter shakes their body. “I would give anything, to see the lady’s face when you’ve spun around.”

“It was quite the sight to behold,” he refills his glass, while Hanji straightens up their glasses threatening to fall of their nose.

“Once I had this lady coming in, she kept stressing out how important it was that her drink was dairy free -and I get it, lactose intolerance is a pain in the ass- she was watching my every move like a hawk. When I handed her her drink, she freaking asked me why I didn’t put whipped cream on top of it. I had to explain her that yes, whipped cream contains dairy, but she would not believe me. I ended up putting a shit ton on top of her damn frappuccino and I hope she got diarrhea from it.”

“What a bitch” Levi snorts.

“Alright your turn, what do you have in stock?”

He hums thoughtfully, distractingly playing with a the edge of a pillow.

“They were this one time, when a girl went batchit crazy on me for drawing a heart in her latte. She screamed at me that she had a boyfriend, and that she was so fed up with men hitting on her.”

“Did you? Drew a heart in her latte I mean.”

“No, I did draw something, but it was not a heart. Not from my perspective that is.”Levi smirks amusement glinting into his eyes.

Hanji seems confused for a split second before they exclaim.“Oh my god Levi! Did you draw an ass in that girl drink?”

“I most certainly did,” he replies with a toothy grin. “It was the day when Eren came back from his family trip. All I could think about was that glorious ass of his.”

“You’re the worst.”

Levi shrugs and slides a shot towards them before pouring one for himself. “That’s a draw,” he solemnly declares.

They empty their glasses and sigh contentedly almost in perfect synchronization.

“You know what really is the worst kind of customer ?” Hanji hiccups.

He raises a thin eyebrow at them.

“Those who are unable to remember the name of the drinks. If they got their orders wrong, it’s not my problem. Learn to fucking read you moron!”

“I couldn’t remember the name of the drink when I began,” Levi giggles.“Eren had to help me study the menu. He even made cards and all that shit.”

They shake their head “You’re a lucky idiot you know that?”

Levi nods. He does know how lucky he is to have a boyfriend like him.

“In my defense,” he begins“the name of the drinks makes zero sense. Why did Erwin have to go for the fancy hipster shit name? ‘large black’ that’s easy to remember. But Americano? Frappuccino? Freaking Macchiato? It gives zero clue about what the drink actually is.”

“That’s how they’re called,” Hanji looks at him skeptically  “That’s pretty standard actually.”

“Well, the standard sucks.” Levi says, slamming his fist on the table.

“What would you call them then?” They ask, eyes glinting in amusement.

“I dunno,” Levi frowns.“Something meaningful.”

They tilt their head to the side.“Like what? It’s not like you could describe the recipe of the drink. That would be way too long.”

He reaches for the bag of chips, and munches slowly. Hanji observes him pulling his eyebrows together, creating small line between them. He’s so deep in thoughts he doesn’t notice them snatching a picture of what they consider to be an ‘Accidentally cute Levi.’

“Hangover,” he blurts out.

“We certainly will be tomorrow, but don’t worry we still have time.”

“No,” he throws the bag of chips out of his lap, spilling it on the ground.“The name of the drink, it should be Hungover.”

“Lemme guess, a strong black coffee?”

“Triple espresso of the less bitter coffee we have,” He grins.

They smile cheerfully.“What else do you have?”

“I’m Studying For My Finals. Double espresso with a dash of vanilla. Because you both need energy and comfort.”

“Why not make it a triple, though?”

Levi shakes his head.“Because when studying for their final, student drink coffee all day. With a double they can still get that energy shot multiples time a day without intoxicating themselves. Also, it’s refillable.”

“This is good!” Hanji shouts excitedly. They scramble up to their feet and run to their bag, pulling out a notebook. “Alright keeps going, we gotta keep track of this.”

“Babe?” Eren calls upon entering the apartment. Despite the late hour, he knows Levi isn’t asleep. He goes in the living room, expecting him to be sitting on the couch, tucked into a blanket, enjoying a his tea. But instead he’s met with what looks like a warzone. Two empty bottles of wine, one who has rolled up to the ground, another bottle of what looks like tequila, empty for the most part, chips, chips everywhere, on the table, on the carpet, on the couch, and finally Levi, sleeping peacefully on the ground, crumbs all over his hair.

“What the fuck,” Eren whispers to himself. He walks up to Levi and picks the notebook next to him. It reads:

Large Americano: Not A Morning Person

Tea: The Only Valid Drink

Flat White: Fuck You

Vanilla soy latte no foam extra shot: I’d Like To Speak To The Manager

Double espresso with vanilla sirup: Studying For My Final

Iced coffee: Hoe Never Gets Cold

Pumpkin spice latte: Spooky Season

Latte, extra shot: Stayed Up Too Late Looking At Memes

Peppermint latte: Basic Bitch

“Hey Eren!”

The cheery voice of Hanji interrupts his reading.

“Hey,” he tentatively greets them.“What’s going on ? And what is this?” He asks shaking the notebook in his hand.

“Just a thing for a work,” they say, wiggling their eyebrows mysteriously.

“So, you’re telling me, this was a work meeting?”

“Guess you could put it like that,” They chuckle.“I was just about to clean up. Would you take care of sleepy-head over here?” They point at Levi with their chin.

It’s Eren’s turn to laugh. “You cleaning, and Levi passing out. That’s a first.”

He bends down and gently dusts the crumbs off Levi’s hair, before carrying him to their bedroom.

“They don’t know what's awaiting them,” Levi mumbles, as he undresses him.

“Hum what was that? What’s awaiting who?”

“Karen, Margaret, Susan and all the other.”

“Alright babe,” he chuckles.“Go get them.”

He makes sure Levi is well tuck in, and not at risk at falling off bed. He makes a move to leave, but a hand on his forearm stops him.

Levi cracks a lid open “Stay.”

“Are you sure it’s safe to leave Hanji alone in the living room?”

“Hmph, what are they gonna do? It’s already a mess anyway,” he tucks on his arm, nearly yanking him off his feets.

“Alright, alright,” Eren surrenders. He quickly takes off his shoes and clothes, throwing them in a corner of the room. As soon as he lies down, Levi rolls to his sides, resting his head on his chest. He’s already drifting back to sleep, soothed by the hand gently stroking his hair.

“Good morning! What can I get you?”

“Flat white. Large. Quickly, I’m in a hurry.”

“Fuck you,” Hanji says, a shit eating grin on their face.

“Excuse you?” The woman says, outrage evident in her voice. “What did you just say to me?”

“Fuck You,” They repeat, their smile growing impossibly wide. “That’s the name of the drink you’ve order.”

A displease frown appears on the woman face. “I’d like to speak to the manager.”

“Sure thing, Coming right up!” They grab a cup. “May I have a name?” The woman stares at her, confusion written all over her face. “I bet it’s Sharon,” they say writing it down. “You look like a Sharon.”

Hanji turns around, and quickly prepares the drink. The woman said she was in a rush after all.

“Here you go! That’ll be $5 please.”

“What is this?”

“What you’ve order Ma’am. A Vanilla soy latte with  no foam and extra shot.” They answer with a mischievous smile.

“I didn’t order this,” she nearly shouts. “Are you deaf? I said that I’d like to speak to the manager!”

“Yea… that’s the name of the drink Ma’am.” They point at the board above their head.

Her face reddens as she opens her mouth, but Hanji cuts her off before she has the chance to speak.

“You better go now, Sharon. You’re holding the line.”

The woman furiously slaps a $5 bill on the counter, and stalks away.

Levi blinks, mouth hanging agape.“That was amazing,” he fights the urge to claps.

“Thank you, thank you. But you nearly deserve all the credit. You’re the one that came up with this idea.”

“How did you get Erwin’s approval?” he asks incredulity in his voice.

“Eh, well, I didn’t,” they answer, rubbing the back of their neck. “I just came in early and re-write the boards.”

Levi shakes his head, chuckling. Of course Hanji would do that without their boss permission. “Guess I’ll have a new co-worker by the end of the week then.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that short-stuff.” A devilish smile on their face Hanji takes out their phone. “See one of the ‘soccer moms’ I’ve served this morning wasn’t too happy with our new menu. So she took the whole story to twitter and even made a petition to close up the place.” They slide their phone on the counter.“And it blew up! But not in the way she expected. Everyone is loving the idea. The so-called ‘angry coffee shop’ is the new place to be! We’ve been packed with customers all day.”

“Speaking of which, some help would be much appreciated Hanji!” A panicked voice calls from behind them.

“Don’t worry Moblit. You got this!” They say waving their hand dismissively at him. They focus back on Levi and frown. “What’s wrong Levi? I thought you would be happy.”

He raises his head from his hand and whispers, eyes wide “We’re gonna have to deal with even more customers.”

[honeylikewords]

hey can i request a peter maximoff x f!reader? where its during apocalypse and kinda follows their realtionship through it, from when he saves her from the x mansion. obviously im not expecting a long ass thing lol just small snippets or something! thank you!!!

hey anon? this is so darn cute, thank you SO much! (you phrased this so politely and i 100% adore and appreciate polite anons who are aware that i’m a busy gal :’) you’re a sweetie! also, thank you for specifying the pronouns and gender, that always helps!)

plus, i’ve been itching to write more peter stuff as of late to branch out a bit, so let’s try a few of these out! it’s been a hot minute since Apocalypse came out, though, so please be lenient if i forget some of the finer details of the plot!

(btw i know you said you weren’t expecting anything long but i got carried away! also, i know this deviates a little from what you probably had in mind, but i wanted to tie it in with my larger peter narrative!)

I think Peter would probably not have a girlfriend before or during the events of Apocalypse-- at least not in a conventional sense. He was pretty defeated and reclusive after Days of Future Past (aka “That One Time He Broke A Murderer Out Of Jail On A Dare And Said Murderer Nearly Assassinated The President And Destroyed The White House And Oh Also? That Murderer Is His Dad”) and kept to himself. A self-described ‘loser’, Peter just didn’t want to bother with people any more: he felt like he’d let everyone down.

That’s why I always imagined that if Peter was going to be in a relationship with someone, he’d have to know them as a close friend who has been in his life for a while. I think he’s prone to flighty crushes based on the way someone looks (he doesn’t ‘fall’ for them, but rather flirts with them until he gets bored), but he finds that, deep inside, what he really needs is someone to keep him in line, call him out on his bad behavior, and remind him of what really counts, and what really makes him a hero: protecting other people and doing his best for them.

So, I argue that Peter’s best friend would be the one who loves him and who he loves, but that they never clarified their emotions to one another, and then Peter became a recluse and shut-in after the incident with freeing Erik, so neither of them is aware of how the other feels. After all, Peter felt personally responsible and horrified to know that his actual, biological father was... that kind of person, so he was already an emotional mess just trying to sort out the fact that he is the son of a very dangerous, very unstable man. But at the same time, he was desperate to find Erik and know if his father knew about him, to understand him better, to see where he, himself, came from.

I imagine that Peter’s friend would try to talk him out of it on the basis that Erik is a clear and present danger to people and would probably not sympathize with Peter’s plight (”He blew up the White House, Peter!”). But, since Peter is such an obstinate, bull-headed young man, he pushed on, insisting that he could find something out about his father.

Maybe it’s because, deep down, Peter worries that he, himself, is the bad guy; he worries that this kind of violence, these kinds of mistakes, this failure, is bred into his bones. His mom’s a drinker, his dad’s a terrorist. One’s a little worse than the other, but it still bothers him to think that maybe he is the result of pure dysfunction. He needs to know if that bitter kind of blood runs in his veins, too, or if he can change his fate.

So, knowing that Peter is going to run headlong into danger like he always does, his friend comes along, citing that he’ll need someone to “yank him by the ear when he does some dumbshit stunt”, inevitably. 

Peter ran from D.C. to the X-Mansion in the film, so if he brings his friend with, he’ll likely have to carry her (and take periodic breaks so she doesn’t get motion sick or whiplash), all the while trying not to let his hands wander too much, nor to let himself stare at her and watch as she clings to him and her hair bounces in the breeze his speeds creates. She looks so pretty as she blinks, her lashes kissing together... He then makes himself look away so he doesn’t build his hopes up too high.

I think Peter really severely considers himself a complete and total loser, fluke, failure, and mistake, so he doesn’t think someone as sensible, pretty, and kind as his friend could ever love him. He’s happy(ish) to just stay her friend if that means keeping her in his life. He just wants something constant, something familiar, something stable, and she brings that to him.

As they arrive at the X-Mansion, he feels something’s off, and the moment he looks at the place, he gets that itchy feeling all up and down his spine that says “something’s wrong”. He sets his friend down at a safe distance from the school and makes sure to slow down to her speed so she can see him as he says “I gotta go for a sec. You wait here.”

He tucks the Twinkie he’d picked up at the gas station during their last break into her hand and zips off to handle the explosion and save as many students (and dogs eating pizza) as he can. Once they’re safely removed, he returns to his beloved and stands between her and the explosion, wrapping her in a tight hug and tucking her in so that if any part of the blast rattles them, she’ll be safe in his arms. He slows down and the world returns to normal, his friend clinging to him.

“What did you DO?!,” she shrieks.

“I just saved everyone’s lives, that’s what!”

“You BLEW UP the SCHOOL?!”

“NO, someone else did that! I got everyone out! Jeez, someone’s not grateful to her hero, huh?”

But she pauses for a moment, cupping her hands on his cheeks and noticing he has a few smudges of dirt and soot from the burning air in the mansion. She strokes a thumb over the harsh line of his cheekbone, smearing the dust on his face. He grows very quiet as his heart runs even faster than normal, its beats shaming the fluttering of hummingbird wings.

“You’re a mess,” she murmurs. “Someone’s gotta look out for you, big hero.”

“That’s why I’ve got you,” he replies. “To look out for me.”

She nods and gently squeezes his face, and he can feel the tips of her fingers brush against the long ends of his silver hair, barely a ghost of a touch. He still shivers.

In the background, stones collapse and timbers creak, letting out almighty groans and snarls as the oxygen gets eaten up by ravenous flames. Peter shivers again, but for a different reason: there’s real destruction happening before him. Hundreds of people could be dead if he hadn’t intervened, and she could have been among that body count if he hadn’t been careful.

From there, Peter realizes the severity of the situation. It’s no longer fun and games, no longer hide-and-go-seek with an absentee father. It’s life or death stakes. And he doesn’t want her involved in any of this.

Peter intentionally hides her away before he makes his break to go find Erik, insisting that she stay clear of all of this. She tries to fight him and come with, but he grips her arms and looks deep into her eyes, a strange kind of gravity in his demeanor. Peter is normally never so serious, but as he looks at her and squeezes her, she knows, things are far from normal for him.

“I need you to stay here,” he stresses, emphatically shaking her. “You cannot get into this with me. I’m not gonna let that happen.”

“Peter--”

“No. This is my problem. This is as far as I’m letting you go with me.”

“But--”

“I’m sorry, okay? Just... don’t miss me too much. I’ll always find a way back to, ya know, drive you crazy.”

He leans forward, and kisses her brow, quick and light. The gesture could almost be mistaken for something fratenal, had both their hearts not leapt and their eyes fixed on each other. His hand lingers on her a touch longer than it ought to for a platonic moment, and as he walks away, he casts another glance over his shoulder. She looks into his deep, dark brown eyes, and smiles at him nervously.

“Hey! You... you come back home to me, alright?”

Peter takes a deep breath and flashes her his biggest, toothiest smile.

“You bet your pretty little ass I’m gonna.”

She flips him off, laughing (though he notices her eyes remain tight with worry, and he blows a theatric kiss towards her, trying to seem goofy and playful despite the growing knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. He wants her to feel relaxed, and to see him confident. After all, he thinks grimly, this may be the last time she sees him.

But he can’t imagine not seeing her again. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to think about her living a quiet life without his racket, without him there to bother her, to annoy her, to love her, whether silently or out in the open.

When he’s captured, Peter begins to despair and panic, though he masks it under his usual layers of humor and sarcasm. Though he’s quippy outside, inside, he’s riddled with worry. He might die here, in a metal cage, surrounded by freaks, and never get to tell the girl he loves that he cares about her. 

He’s spent his whole life a few degrees removed, desperate to appear so aloof and carefree, but only now does he realize how much he wanted to say and do. He swears to himself that once he’s free, and once this is over, he’s going to tell the truth. He’s going to take her home and hug her tight and kiss her ‘til they both can’t breathe and he’s going to tell her, flat out, that he’s in love with her, come hell, high water, or the nuclear destruction of the earth.

From there, things progress as they must, and, eventually, Peter does come home. But he’s hobbling on a broken leg, covered in dirt and grime, looking exhausted and sweaty. His beloved runs up to him as the plane touches down, her hands spread as tears burst from her. He falls into her, gratefully and exhaustedly hugging her close. God, she feels so good, even as she weeps into his hair and runs her hands panickedly all across his back and torso, as if feeling for injuries.

“Oh, Peter, oh, god, baby, what happened?”

He’s in her arms and halfway ready to tell her, but pauses, resting his head on her shoulder tiredly as he smiles.

“Did you just call me ‘baby’, sweetie?”

“...Did you just call me ‘sweetie’?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second... baby.”

They lean on each other for a moment before they manage to stumble towards a place to sit down and rest Peter’s leg as the emergency response teams and paramedics appear to take care of the injured. Peter leans his head against her chest and closes his eyes, hearing her heartbeat. That pulse reminds him of the promise he made to himself.

He reaches out and takes her hand, intwining their fingers and squeezing her.

“Hey, babe, I have something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“...I, uh, I was thinking about some, um, stuff. And I realized some stuff about myself and about what I care about and... I, you know, I didn’t end up telling Magnet-Head about... who I am. Because I think I realized that I don’t really need him. He’s not my family. He’s never been there for me, and I don’t need to keep chasing him to know where I’m supposed to be, you know?”

“...Peter, what are you saying?”

He takes a deep, shaky breath and nuzzles in closer, letting his tired eyes fall shut as he takes in the smell of her; smoke and ash and just the littlest hint of perfume. All her. Warm and present.

“I’m saying... the people who matter in your life aren’t always the ones who, you know, you share DNA with. Sometimes the most important people are the ones who have been there for a long time, and you realize you love them and you can’t live without them and-- oh, fuck it.”

He sits up, puts his hands on her cheeks, and looks into her eyes, smiling as sweetly as he can with all the butterflies coursing through his stomach.

“I love you. And you’re more a part of my family than that guy could ever be to me.”

“...Are you saying I’m like a sister to you?”

Peter pauses, then snorts, rolling his eyes. He lets out a playful, exasperated sigh, and presses his forehead to hers, his tired muscles groaning with relief to find solace in her.

“No. I mean that I love you. As in ‘I want to be around you forever’ love you. As in ‘you’re my best friend but even more than that’ love you. As in ‘can I kiss you’ love you.”

He gets his answer as she rubs her thumb on his small, chapped bottom lip, staring at it hungrily.

“Thought you’d never ask, you big jerk.”

In a pile of rubble, on an overcast day, with a broken leg, after the threat of nuclear armageddon, after the most taxing and painful battle of his life, Pietro Django Maximoff has his first kiss. Far from his house, far from the little world he used to inhabit, he finds his home, pressed into the lips of the girl he’s known and loved all along. 

Peter swears, for years after, that the kiss healed his broken leg. She always bats his chest and tells him to check his facts and remember the full limb cast he was in for a month. Then he kisses her again and remarks that nothing could hurt him with her love in his heart, and they both laugh at the schmaltz and sweetness of the love they’ve built together. 

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S2 Ep 31: You Can’t Spell Marriage Without Mai

First off, when I got to this episode, I turned to my bro and said “WHAT” and he said “Right? This episode is the best. It’s all down from here” and I was like “YOU SAID THAT TWO EPISODES AGO” so now I know Bro can never be trusted.

If you had told me the plot of this episode before I watched it, I’d say “no, that is Mario Party Fanfiction, and you’ve changed all the names.” That is where this episode went.

Does Mario Party Fanfic exist? Quick Google search, one moment. Dear Lord. OK, I’m back.

Now guys I want you to know that every time a ship comes up in Yugioh, I write like...10k words about it, math equations appearing around my head, as I try to figure out what the freakin hell anyone is even doing and if the writers even know what they’re doing, and I’ll just promptly delete it. I just want you to know the service I do for you. Every time it comes up I start ranting about what the hell an ancient Egyptian would even understand about modern romance and then I stop myself and go “No! Focus!” and I’ll Ctrl-A and I’ll just *delete* and feel a burden lift off my shoulders and into the ceiling like a prayer.

And then this episode happened?

And I’m just like...

...

well I TRIED to spare you.

Please admire how many people they stuffed into Mai’s very small convertible. I half expected them to drive up to Kiki’s Delivery Service.

In case you’ve also forgotten something that happened 40 episodes ago, Mai saved Joey last season by giving him a McGuffin as well as a gross ass handkerchief (which he doesn’t have anymore, the whole 'will they ever return the gross ass handkerchief’ plotline seems to have left the building) and finally, here, halfway through S2 we’re going to actually address why Mai would have any compassion for this bundle of awful kids.

I mean, Joey is still in high school and Mai is like 24 (although some say 44???) so I’m pretty sure they were trying to make it seem platonic or motherly between these two but eh, I don’t even know with this show, man. I mean she and Joey are 8 years apart but Serenity is 4 years Tristan’s junior despite Mokuba being 1 year younger than her and like right there. (Mokuba’s like 12 by the way, something surprising I found out when I did a Google Deep Dive on everyone’s canonical weight a few episodes ago.) And then Pharaoh is like either 5000 or 16-ish depending on who’s asking, so age doesn’t seem to be ever an inhibiting factor in this show.

But as is Yugioh tradition, any space that could possibly be filled with any growth between a boy and a girl--even platonically--must be absolutely derailed by something exploding.

(read more under the cut)

Stepping out from inside of this limousine is a man who wears sunglasses at night, and so at first I thought “oh hell it’s Pegasus’ security, he’s back” But he’s...he’s not. I really, really wish it were.

Joey literally wiped his hand off on the ass of his jeans before trying to shake the hand of this guy he has never mentioned before in his life but swears is his favorite person in the world.

Jean wisely left him hanging.

Joey is SO ready to see a ship in this show actually do something. So ready, that he is willing to accept Mai and this rando we’ve never seen before as canon, despite the fact I’m pretty sure a chunk of last season was trying (rather unsuccessfully) to pair him up with Mai?

It’s not where I expected this episode to go! I really thought we were going to go and play a tourney? We were meeting up with Kaiba at a stadium one block away - he’s just sitting there on his big ass dragon shaped chair and like “omg the moment I walk away they get completely distracted, every single time.”

Anyways, lets get to a flashback where very fancy people in pastel suits were playing cards because apparently cards isn’t just for streetfighting.

I have been wading through 1.5 seasons of these characters doing these elaborate dances around each other to never ever speak a word of commitment or relationship, and I’ve been pretty OK with them doing that. Honestly, the less romance in my Yugioh, the more satisfied I am, but then, after 1.5 seasons of basically nothing but Serenity wearing some bandages and needing a lift from the hospital, suddenly we have this random guy show up and profess marriage, and it is the most whiplash this show has ever given me.

I will accept demonic weird ass devices threatening children, spooky magic, bad history, and all sorts of weird ass outfits but like marraige???? wtf?????

Which is something that Mai seems to know because she turned him right down as you should when a person you’ve never met before decides to marry you based on your ability to coordinate cards in a deck.

Joey honestly thinks being a rich star will automatically make you marriageable material, because I guess Joey completely forgot about Seto Kaiba, a very famous billionaire who is maybe one of the least marriageable people on the planet.

So what gets me about this episode and what makes it so freakin weird is that everyone here accepts this as the rules from this point on.

She MUST be married if Mai enters and then loses this game. Welcome to the Yugioh universe. This is how card people dating works. This is law, she has to accept this proposal if this card game based on chance loses.

Anyways, Yugi’s here to be the voice of reason in a dating episode and that’s something I didn’t expect to write in a sentence.

Yes, his motive was “Mai, this will take too long” not “Mai, you don’t know this guy, and he’s probably crazy” it was “Mai please, I know the world will end when I enter this tourney and so you have nothing to lose and it’s the best time to marry a stranger actually, but can you not? It’s taking SO LONG.”

Duke Devlin in the back still trying helplessly to keep up with what the hell is going on since he wandered on this team by complete accident four episodes ago.

And yes, it’s THIS that makes Joey not like this guy. Not the part where he proposed out of the blue, nearly ran over them with his car, stalked Mai for like a year, and then completely disregarded Mai’s common sense. No--this part, where he threatened to kick Mai out of the competition. That was the low blow to Joey.

You will lose this duel and gain a husband.

That is an actual line from the show, folks, this show went places.

aaaaand Mai starts losing right away.

DAMN

IT.

This is the one thing I thought was pretty much in the bag. That there would not be the concept of one of these characters getting married. That was the One thing I was sure of. But I was not only wrong, but this is like the most bizarre wedding I’ve ever seen on TV. It’s basically a shotgun wedding but with cards???

And what makes this more bizarre, and it was something I only noticed after watching this episode, is that we’ve seen this type of behavior before. But at the time, back in the beginning of this season I was just like “that was just a really weird thing that happened that wouldn’t possibly be accepted as normalized in this universe.”

Like, remember that creepy DDR guy who dueled Yugi so that if he beat Yugi in a match, that creepy guy would become Tea’s boyfriend despite never spending more than 2 minutes with either of them? That despite the fact that Yugi isn’t even her boyfriend, it was like something all three of them were like “I guess I have to go through with this now.” At the time I just assumed that was an insane thing that happened. I just assumed that would never come back.

This was the episode where suddenly I realized, maybe the big issue with these kids dating is a hell of a lot more than just actually going on dates. Maybe it’s because I didn’t understand what their love language is. It’s not Receiving Gifts, Quality Time, Acts of Service, Words of Affirmation, and for sure as hell isn’t Physical Touch, it’s the 6th, not very often talked about love language, that’s right, it’s Cards. Rewrite everything, Gary Chapman. Tear it all down and reshoot all those Ted Talks, we forgot something.

Like, sometimes I forget that these guys live in a universe controlled by cards. I mean we’ve seen cards and romance intermingle twice. (three times, if you count Rebecca, who might be engaged to Yugi now? It was kind of a really weird ending to a card game) Pegasus even tried to resurrect his dead wife through cards. All these cards currently exist because of Pegasus’ undying love for Cecilia (who is...OMG I forgot that chick might be alive somewhere)

What I’m saying is that...What if this is how they’ve actually dated this whole time? What if this whole time that I assumed no one was dating they......they actually...were? What if I just didn’t notice, because it was just so freakin weird? What if this is more like how in a Jane Austen novel, if someone goes on a walk with someone else it’s basically like 3rd base?

Like, remember Jane Austen’s Persuasion, where Captain Wentworth went on a walk with Louisa and she was like “hey catch me, I’m 14 years old!” and then she tripped off a wall and got a concussion and he was like “DAMN IT! Now I have to marry her!” and everyone was like “Well congrats on getting married, Louisa.” and then she fell in love with a sad poet who gave her soup once while Captain Wentworth was getting his nuptials planned out in Bath and so Louisa dumped Captain Wentworth’s sorry ass and he was like “OH THANK YOU. YOU ARE SO 14.” And then sad soup man showed up in Bath while Wentworth and the rest of Louisa’s family was quickly crossing out “Wentworth” on all the marriage invitations and sad soup man was like “Before Louisa, I was in love with this other chick, but she died, so I’m pretty stoked I found Louisa.” and Captain Wentworth was like “You’re such an asshole for cheating on your dead girlfriend, I would never do that, you ass!” and then immediately married Anne Wentworth by writing her one single letter saying “hey, want to get married Y/N?” despite the fact that he went well out of his way to avoid her the entire book?

What if that’s been going on in the background of Yugioh but I just didn’t know because, unlike Persuasion, I never took a college class on Yugioh Dating Customs so I have no idea when it ever happens.?

See, this is the stuff I usually delete but like psh whatever, it’s a dating episode, so for once this isn’t a tangent, and yes, I am reading too much into this, thank you.

Anyway, after Joey asks Yugi what to do and then telephones what Yugi just told him to Mai enough times, Mai beats Jean Claud Magnum and avoids a lifetime of...whatever that would have been like.

However, something is off about that game and it takes a card wizard to explain it to us although it was...........really obvious.

This is the third time someone on this show was abducted by a ninja net.

She gets kidnapped by a guy in a ninja jet suit contraption and this is her reaction!? Freakin lucid dream what the hell?

This is the weirdest show I’ve ever watched. Not so much because it has stuff other shows don’t have, but because it forces me to have these expectations of what I think it is and then, once I get comfortable, completely changes it. Last episode Bakura murdered 3 established characters in a graveyard. Like, not even random people, Bakura murdered 3 named people with funny accents we’ve known since last season. That was already completely insane for a kid’s show to do. But rather than address whatever the hell is going on with Bakura, we’re just going to add more to the pot and throw in this crazy asshole, too. For kicks.

Like this is a filler episode somehow? This filler episode would be an entire season of any other kid’s show.

So this episode ends with Mai hanging from a flag pole in a miniskirt, but it’s not like anyone in this city would ever peek their nose out of their window to see what the hell is going on, so at least she doesn’t have to worry about upskirting an entire town. Just these two people.

And like, Joey’s such a mess in that head anyway that like who freakin cares? He’ll probably wake up tomorrow without any memory of yesterday thanks to possession, drowning, getting beat up, tied up, and then this oncoming concussion.

I’m pretty sure she should have stabbed him right through with this duel disk?

(the dialogue really does imply that if he had done this himself she would have been cool with it. How freakin weird is Mai?)

And then he just lets her go? Makes you wonder if it was an abduction or just a game he thought she would enjoy? I don’t know. This episode was all over the place. I mean...maybe he really thought she’d like getting caught in a net and being flown all around Domino? I don’t freakin know.

Like, in my opinion she was stalked for over a year and abducted with several witnesses. But, no one is calling the cops. So like...was this weird to them? This was very weird to us...but like...maybe Mai was like “hm, that was a so-so date.” because this type of behavior is just how this universe does?

....

....

Yugioh, are you OK?

Anyways, next week:

Is the tourney cancelled because after episodes and episodes of tangents, no one ever freakin shows up and Kaiba has to go back to school to do a Chem final? Does Duke Devlin ever even do anything? Does it take 20 minutes for Bakura to walk through security because he keeps setting off the metal detector with his invisible necklace that he can never take off?

[gothxmsirxns-blog]

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Pairing: Young Justice x Reader [platonic] Kaldur x Reader [romantic]

Relationship: friends and past relationship 

Request: nope

Plot: based on theses prompts;  50. Promise me you’ll come back...I need you to promise me,49. I can’t promise you that, 51. I missed you,‘don’t break my heart and tell me you’ve forgotten me’, 91. How long has it been?

Key: [Y/N]= your name, [h/c] = hair colour, [e/c] = eye colour.

Words: 1,588

A/N: I’m sorry I haven’t uploaded anything in so long. I’m hopefully getting back on track soon. 

3 years ago

The mission had been long, and it had been physically exhausting on the young heroes and this was obvious as they walked into the main area of Mount Justice where they were greeted with Batman and and Black Canary staring them down, Canary with soft eyes and Batman with his usual hard stare as they all joined them around the screens on the computer that seemed to be broadcasting all their mistakes from the mission, well more specifically [Y/N]’s mistakes.

The young hero had been the newest addition to the team and, and though she had been there close to a year upon recommendation of Doctor Fate after seeing her magical potential she was still having difficulty controlling her magic and she once again put the demon in danger by not being able to keep it in check.

Looking to the ground, she rubbed her arm with her opposite hand and let out a gentle sigh, she didn’t know what was wrong with her or why her magic always seemed to go nuclear when she tried something even slightly more difficult than a defensive or telekinetic spell, but it did. And now the team was getting punished for it.

The feeling of a warm hand wrapping around her own hand and pulling it down to the side, away from her arm that she had unconsciously stopped rubbing and started digging her nails into, broke the [h/c] girl out of her thoughts and forced her to turn to face the man she had come to call her boyfriend.

A comforting smile was on the Atlantean’s face as he rubbed his thumb softly over the knuckles of the girl as the team was dismissed. Another sigh left her lips as she looked into the eyes of Kaldur, the two of them being the only two remaining as Batman had left for Gotham and Canary was beginning her sessions with some of the team to go over the trauma of the mission.

“I’m useless-” another sigh left the young girl's lips as she used her free hand to move some hair out of her face, “- I can’t do anything right.” A comforting smile made it’s way onto Kaldur’s face as he removed his hand from [Y/N]’s, only to bring it up with his free hand and cup her cheeks as he spoke to her.

“You are doing fine my love. You are still learning.” Another sigh passed the girl's lips and she cast her eyes to the ground again, “You are still improving. This time 12 months ago you had no idea that you had magic and now look at you, you are doing amazing.”

While she enjoyed hearing the encouraging words coming from Kaldur, [Y/N] knew they weren’t true. What was true was up until 12 months ago she had no idea what she could do, she thought she was normal, that was until her family was in danger and she found herself unconsciously casting a shielding spell around them, protecting them from shrapnel and gunfire.  That was how the League found her, well more Doctor Fate, and he recognised the potential in her and took her under his wing, bringing her into the team almost immediately to allow her to learn with those her own age as well as from him.

It was also then that she learned she was adopted and her adoptive parents had no idea what she could do, though they didn’t love her any less, and they had been trying to find out everything they could about her birth parents ever since then to giver her a chance to find out who she really was and how she was born with magic.

“We both know that’s not true. Kaldur, I’ve been working with Doctor Fate for a year and I can’t even do a simple tracking spell! I-” Huffing slightly, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked to the man, “I have to leave.”

Kaldur’s eyes widened as he processed her words, he hadn’t expected that and he didn’t want that. He was sure the team didn’t want that either, they adored the girl despite her misfortunes and thought of her as a sister. “W-What? Why?”

[Y/N]’s tongue darted past her lips as she felt them dry up, along with her throat, a direct response to having to tell Kaldur that she had to leave. “My birth parents? Their from a homo magi community that’s really reclusive. They, uh, when we contacted them to find out about my parents they told me they could help me.”

“I have to go.” She stepped closer to the boy, closing the small gap that had been between them as she spoke because this might be the last time she spoke to him for a while, the last time her lips would touch his for a while.

“Promise me you’ll come back” He looked down to the girl, his hand reaching out to push some hair behind her ear, “I need you to promise me” A soft sigh pushed passed [Y/N]’s lips and she once again looked to the ground, a nervous tick she had. “I can’t promise you that.”

It was the truth, she didn’t know if she would be back. She didn’t know the price she would have to pay to learn to control her magic, and she didn’t want to leave with empty promises in the air. So, that was the last thing said before the girl leaned up and pressed a kiss to Kaldur’s lips, their last kiss before she left.

Present, 3 years later.

The team was tired, they always were after a fight and they had just gotten out of the showers when they were called to the training area for a briefing for their next mission, well a continuation of their current mission that seemed to be broken into sub-divisions of missions like in a video game, and a long groan left the lips of many of the members. But they went anyway.

This team, this team consisted of Kaldur, L’Gann, M’Gann, Connor, Bart, Artemis, Tim, Jaime, Barbara,Virgil and Cassie, it was a new configuration that took some getting used to as old members had left and new ones had joined and they were getting used to the others abilities and fighting styles. But they were a good team, they got along well and worked well together but this newest mission was kicking their ass and so Batman had called in reinforcements.

Before the team stood a girl, with long [h/c] hair that looked familiar and [e/c] eyes that sparkled with excitement and happiness and she overall looked familiar, like a friend not seen in years and the feeling of knowing nagged at the back of the original teams mind as if they should know this person and yet they don’t.

“Who is this?” It was Kaldur that broke the silence and a gentle laugh filled the air, it came from the lips of the stranger who was standing with their arms crossed and their eyebrow raised as they looked over the team. “Don’t break my heart and tell me you’ve forgotten me?” And it was then that everything clicked.

Smiles broke out onto the faces of M’Gann and Artemis as the girls walked forward and wrapped their arms around their old team mate while Connor and Kaldur remained frozen, trying to comprehend what was happening. “[Y/N]!” It was the declaration of her name by M’Gann that broke the boys out of their trance as realisation dawned upon them. However, the remainder of the team remained confused as to who their stranger was and how she was known to the original team.

“I missed you. All of you.” She looked to her former teammates, though there was 2 missing, she still spoke the truth, she had missed them all. “Where did you go?” A little chuckle left the girls mouth and she tilted her head slightly and let out a ‘tt’ sound, “That’s complicated. Because it was technically another dimension so we will not talk about it.”

A light laugh left Kaldurs lips as he stared at the girl with an eyebrow raised, “Of course you would end up in an alternate dimension.” [Y/N] pouted slightly, “Okay. It was deliberate? I was supposed to be there.” Kaldur laughed at the girl and a kind smiles were shared between the two.

“How long has it been?” [Y/N] questioned her friends, after all she wasn’t sure because she was preoccupied, “Three years.” Shock dawned on [Y/N]’s face, she honestly hadn’t realised she was gone that long.

“Not that I don’t love you being back, but, why are you back?” Licking her lips slightly she thought for a moment, “I thought it was time for me to come home and Batman needed reinforcements for your fight against Faust. I wanted to come back, Batman just gave me a reason too.”

“Wait, so you’re back for good?” M’Gann’s voice raised a few octaves at the end of the question to match the squeal she let out when the girl answered her question with a nod, “I’m back for good.”

The friends were broken out of their conversation and brought back to reality as a new voice broke through the crowd, the voice of Virgil Hawkins who’s tone matched the looks on the rest of the team, “Can someone explain what is going on?”