#i am going to combust if you ask for a longer list of favorites

[frnkiebby]

Favorite songs as of recently?

this is so goddamn hard to answer jesus christ

definitely a boy brushed red (underoath), for sure always stitches (fiatc), and femininominon (chappell roan).

i’m keeping it at three otherwise i’d be listing all my master playlist lmfao~🎃

[louroth]

Hello everyone :> 

It's been a month! it's incredible how much my life has changed- while I'm still adjusting I'm just...still walking on clouds. it feels unreal. the patreon took off and I can almost make a living wage on it which is frankly fucking insane, and the discord is so vibrant it scared me for a moment (not anymore- shooting the shit with the people there is the favorite part of my day, even if I sometimes just leave a trail of emotes lskjdhajksdhkjasd.) I couldn't have asked for a better community. YES I am crying about it. Thank you, so, so much. I am cradling your face in my hands. crying.

But as always, enough of my bleeding heart. Let's get to it!

The first two weeks after posting the update, I took a sort of quasi vacation and only wrote a handful of story-words each day, and spent some time fooling around in the discord + brushed off my smut archive to refine for Patreon. There are already 4 stories up, and a new one coming tomorrow- though I haven't decided yet whether it will be possessive/jealous L sfw short or one very nasty short where you come across a particularly insistent species of vines while trekking the forest. hehe. we'll see. >:3

But, even though I had to rest not to combust after work, I am very pleased to say that the next chapter is coming along great, with the skeleton finished for its entirety, and about 45% and some change already written (it's very hard to gauge because I jump around a lot when I write.) This is the final chapter before the forest, filled with action and the heart wrenching drama of offering tenderness to a certain someone, and deciding for your hunter when enough is truly enough. I have teared up writing certain scenes and I genuinely cannot wait for you to experience this next part yourselves. 

It is so funny reading things I wrote for this chapter six months ago, or longer, because I knew exactly what emotions I wanted to bake in and couldn't really nail it, but now it is coming together beautifully! Sure, it will still be wonky first draft writing, but the core is there and that is all that matters for now. I'm saying soon™ for the update for now, because I am allowing myself to adapt to writing full time- I didn't quit my job to become my own nightmare boss, and I truly want to enjoy this process. I think, in the long run, it will result in a better story. Patience is my mantra. All in due time- I cannot force quality creative work. But by everything wretched and sinful, I cannot wait to share this next part with you!!! I'm frothing at the mouth!!!

In other news, y'all. I need to get organized. I get heartburn thinking about all the different variations of files and notes and notebooks and scraps of paper and variables and branches of plot and just generally, the things to keep track of is getting to the point of a dragon hoard of scary 'oh no I forgot about that part'. I'm gritting my teeth through it until this chapter is out, but after it, I am going to spend some time to

 1) get my shit together in gorgeous, beautiful spreadsheets

2) get serious about finding beta- and proofreaders. (me @ u: 🥺)

But that's it, my friends! I scrapped an entire progress report because I started sounded corporate and listing points which was just... sad. I really hope I evolve into writing these in a more fun way, which would make them more fun for you to read too! But for now, I think this will do. I hope you have a beautiful day/night, and if you would like to see more in depth dev-logs of my writing life, or random sneak peeks, I post those weekly on patreon!

Or join our discord, which. It's just the nicest place, I can't even come up with words that do it justice. It's my favorite daily newspaper.

Until next time! x

[miss-morrigan]

Since you guys liked the first one so much, ill do some more!

PILLAR MEN QUOTES (PART 2)

Wamuu: Joseph, my old friend!

Joseph: I think you tried to kill me at some point.

Wamuu: That was obviously just my way of getting to know you.

Joseph: YOU CHEATED!

Caesar: So did my dad, but hey, my mom knew it all and even sorted out their wedding, so what’s the problem?

Esidisi: I… can confirm that that actually happened.

Joseph: …What.

Kars: When I said bring me something back from the beach I meant like a conch shell!

Santana: *Struggling to hold a seagull* Fucking say that next time!

Esidisi: Don't go to the kitchen.

Joseph: Why?

Esidisi: I saw a spider.

Joseph: Well, did you kill it?

Esidisi: It has 8 arms and I only have 2, it's not fair...

Santana: Real life should have a fucking search function, or something.

Santana: I need my socks.

Santana: *cocks gun* Go to Bed. This is no longer a request, This is now a Threat.

Santana: *writing a letter*

Santana: Dear Santa,

I'm writing to let you know I've been naughty...

And it was worth it you fat, judgemental bastard.

Wamuu: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.

Esidisi, fighting Joseph: Clownery. Tomfoolery. Absolute fuckery, I am going to revoke your life privileges.

Kars: I am literally evil incarnate.

Kars: I’m not actually, I just enjoy being evil.

Kars: Which I think actually makes it even more evil because I’m making a conscious effort.

Joseph, looking at their watch: It has been 2 hours and sixteen minutes since I’ve been insulted.

Joseph, looking at Kars: It’s been about 5 seconds since I’ve been assaulted, but let’s not talk about that.

Esidisi: Now, the recipe calls for 2 shots of vodka.

Esidisi: *upends the bottle*

Kars: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

Santana: I scare people a lot because I walk very softly and they don't hear me enter rooms. So when they turn around, I'm just kind of there and their fear fuels me.

Joseph: The last time I went to an urgent care clinic, I checked off 'excessive crying' on the symptom list, and then the nurse got really confused and said that was meant for babies.

Kars: You treat an outside wound with rubbing alcohol. You treat an inside wound with drinking alcohol.

Caesar, about Joseph: My expectations are low, but they can always go lower.

Kars: I'm allergic to death.

Wamuu: You were wise to seek help from the world's most deadly weapon.

Wamuu: It's me.

Wamuu: I just found out that humans are capable of fitting a light bulb into their mouth with ease but can’t take it out without shattering it, and now I have to physically restrain myself from putting a light bulb in my mouth.

Joseph: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

Wamuu: My favorite outdoor activity is going back inside.

Santana: The ‘how the fucks’ and 'why are you so dumbs’ don’t matter. All that matters is that I have a new gun.

Kars: When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Kars lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the person who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!

Wamuu: Not to be nsfw but I want someone to hold me while I sleep.

(( I'll hold you Wamuu! ☺ If you want to see more of these or personal HCs for the Pillar Men, feel free to ask me! ))

[seanfalco]

Want | Priest!Kay x Reader {Part I}

Fandom: Season of the Witch Modern!AU Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None yet, other than maybe some sacrilege? (I’m not Catholic and I know this is probably not going to be everyone’s cup of tea) but there will be smut in later parts.

a/n: I got this prompt (below) & at first wasn’t sure what to do for it, until @midnightseance inspired the idea & @immortalled encouraged me to go for it lol. Thank you two for being my sounding boards 💛

Prompt: Initially I wasn’t gonna request anything because I... didn’t really have anything in mind but then I had a brain blast. I request you writing something you’ve really wanted to write but maybe have talked yourself out of. Like something you thought no one would want- like this is your sign this is your signal. I want to read it! Watching you write something your heart is fully in is one of my favorite things i’ve seen since following you. It doesn’t matter what it is I want to see it!!

Requested by: Anonymous

masterlist

You’d always thought Catholic churches were gorgeous — the architecture, the sculptures, the stained glass windows — so why did you feel this gut churning sense of dread at the sight as you approached.

“You sure I’m not gunna burst into flame as soon as we cross the threshold, like in some sort of horror movie?” you leaned in to whisper in your fiance’s ear and he scoffed.

“If that actually happened in real life, then I probably would’ve spontaneously combusted years ago,” he answered wryly, his eyes flicking to his parents on his other side.

“Right,” you muttered, taking a deep breath as you passed through the large double doors with the rest of the parishioners.

The inside was just as beautiful as the outside and you gaped at the sprawling windows, glittering colourfully as the sun hit them just right, while trying not to think about how anxious you felt. As you filed into the pew with your fiance and his parents, you could feel eyes on you from all sides as people whispered under their breath.

“Is that Matthew’s fiance? She looks rather plainer than I’d expected.”

“Is it true they’re having the ceremony here? She’s not even Catholic.”

“Well, she must be converting.”

Sinking down in the pew, you felt very out of place, and it was obvious to those around you that you were an outsider. You’d never been to a Catholic Mass before, much less any church service, really, and truth be told you weren’t really sure if you even believed or not, but this was what your fiance’s family wanted, though you knew he didn’t really care either way.

Matthew wasn’t exactly what you’d call a good Catholic boy — you’d definitely performed several cardinal sins with him already: sex before marriage, masturbation, use of contraceptives, the list goes on. But either way it wasn’t like you had much of a choice in the matter, you were joining the Catholic Church for better or for worse.

Soon the service began and you listened quietly, trying to pay attention, but amidst all the standing, sitting, and kneeling, you were getting dizzy trying to remember it all, and you tried to follow your fiance’s lead, but you were always a beat behind the rest, feeling more self conscious by the minute.

What are you doing here? you asked yourself for about the tenth time, grimacing as you quickly sat once more, glancing around hastily. It was obvious you didn’t belong, and your fiance didn’t even seem to care. In fact, he didn’t seem to be paying attention at all.

And that was when you saw him, quite possibly the last person you had expected to see.

Stepping up to the pulpit, he was dressed in black robes and a white collar, but you’d recognize him anywhere -- those wild curls, kind eyes, and breathtaking smile.

Kay.

Your Kay— no, not anymore. He’d gone to seminary school and you were marrying someone else, remember?

He was older now, and even from where you sat you could see the faint lines creasing his face, but he was still as gorgeous as you remembered him and your heart constricted for a moment as memories assailed you, overwhelming you — of awkward fumblings in the back of your car, of stumbled “I love you’s” for the first time, of —

“Hey, what’s gotten into you?”

Matthew’s voice in your ear snapped you out of your thoughts and you weren’t sure if you were grateful or annoyed.

“Huh? What do you mean?” you replied, trying to compose yourself, though you still felt like you couldn’t quite catch your breath.

“You went white as a sheet,” Matthew answered with a frown and you shook your head, your eyes returning to Kay.

“Is that your Priest?” you asked instead and your fiance glanced at you curiously.

“Yeah, he’s pretty new though, why?”

“He’s uhm, he’s just so… so young,” you whispered, stumbling over your words. “I thought priests were usually supposed to be, you know… old?”

Matthew snorted softly. “Don’t tell me you have the hots for him too.”

“What?” you hissed, glancing past him to see if his parents had overheard; they hadn’t seemed to and Matthew merely looked amused.

“Oh yeah, he’s rather popular with the other church girls, but I can’t see it,” he scoffed and your lips twitched angrily.

“I dunno, I can see the appeal,” you murmured under your breath. “I think he’s rather handsome.”

Your fiance rolled his eyes. “Sure, whatever,” he mumbled and you ignored him, turning back to the front. For a moment Kay’s gaze seemed to pass over you and he froze, his words dying on his tongue as he faltered, his eyes going wide with shock, and he hastily cleared his throat, unable to look away.

Smiling uncertainly, you met his gaze and his reaction seemed to answer the unvoiced question that had been plaguing you since he’d stepped up to the pulpit.

Clearly, he remembered you.

What were the odds that he’d be the priest here, you thought, settling back in your seat. It seemed like some sort of cruel cosmic joke, taunting you. Or maybe it’s a sign? a little voice in the back of your head whispered. Maybe, you agreed hesitantly… if you believed in that sort of thing.

——

The rest of the sermon seemed to go by much quicker, though every time Kay’s eyes passed over you he seemed to tense slightly, while your knotted stomach would give a flutter, too lost in memories you hadn’t thought of in years to remember much of the message.

So when your fiance’s mom asked you what you thought of the homily, you had to lie through your teeth, sorry God, and hope she didn’t question you further.

“Yeah, I wasn’t really paying attention either,” Matthew muttered as you filed out of the sanctuary after his parents and turned down a side hall toward the Parish office.

Shit, you thought frantically, you’d almost forgotten you were to meet with the Priest after Mass to speak about converting and beginning that process. Which meant you’d be meeting with Kay. Great.

“Ah, Father, there you are, lovely sermon,” Matthew’s mother exclaimed and you gave a start, your heart leaping into your throat as you turned to find Kay approaching.

Cool it, [y/n], you told yourself, trying to calm your pounding heart. How many years has it been? Besides, you’re getting married and he’s a fucking priest for Christ’s sake —shit, sorry, God. He chose this life over you, remember that.

“Father, this is our soon to be daughter-in-law, [y/n].”

Shit, you were being introduced, say something, [y/n].

Luckily, before you could decide whether to pretend you’d never met before or explain that you already knew each other, Kay was reaching out to shake your hand, and wordlessly you slipped your hand in his.

“How do you do?” he murmured, holding onto you a beat longer than was proper, but you didn’t exactly want to let go either.

“Good, I’m good,” you managed to stammer, his smile still doing things to your pulse.

“So, uhm, shall we step into my office?” he asked, finally letting go of your hand, almost seeming to have forgotten he was still holding it.

“Actually, we’ll be on our way. She’s in your hands now, Father,” your future in-laws exclaimed, and you waved as they exchanged a few more pleasantries before making their exit.

“Do I need to be part of this meeting too?” Matthew asked suddenly, as soon as his parents had gone and you turned to frown at him, sharp suspicion filling you, but you kept your mouth shut and swallowed it, not wanting to cause a scene in front of Kay.

“I… I suppose not,” Kay answered hesitantly, and a look of relief flashed across your fiance’s face.

“Sorry to run. I’ll see you later, hun,” he exclaimed, planting a distracted kiss to the top of your head before striding away, already pulling his phone from his pocket and you scowled after him.

“Sure, make me go through all this for you and then don’t even stick around,” you muttered under your breath as you watched him go.

“Er… shall we?” Kay prompted, holding his office door open and you gave a small jolt, shaking yourself out of your thoughts to enter the dark room, Kay reaching for the light switch as he followed.

“Have a seat,” he offered, gesturing to the set of chairs facing his desk before hanging up his robes and taking a seat as well, facing you. “[y/n],” he exclaimed, familiarity leeching into his voice now that you were alone. “To say I’m surprised to see you here would be a bit of an understatement.”

“That makes two of us,” you replied, looking around his office.

“It’s been so long,” he murmured, gazing down at his hands, “you look so —it’s uh, it’s good to see you,” he said, cutting himself off and you desperately wished you knew what he had been going to say instead.

“You look good,” you replied, offering him a hesitant smile, your eyes flicking over him. “Am I supposed to call you Father, or--? Because, I’ll be honest, that’s kinda weird,” you admitted, and Kay grimaced slightly.

“I mean technically you’re supposed to, but…” he paused to clear his throat, “—I agree, it is a little … strange,” he admitted as well and you were glad to see he hadn’t changed too much.

“Right? It’s too close to calling you ‘daddy’,” you muttered, realizing too late what you’d just said, feeling your face heat with embarrassment, as across from you, Kay had turned nearly as red as you felt, and he quickly cleared his throat, hooking his finger under his collar in discomfort.

“Let’s uhm, let’s talk about what you’ll need to do to join the Church,” he said, quickly changing the subject and you heaved a breath, thankful to ignore that awkwardness.

“Right, yeah,” you agreed. “So, what exactly do I have to do?”

Composing himself, Kay folded his hands atop his desk. “Well, usually new converts wishing to become baptized in the Catholic Church have to attend a series of classes for nearly a year—“

“A year?” you yelped, cutting him off, your eyes widening at the thought.

“—But,” Kay continued wryly, “we usually make exceptions for those marrying into the Church, letting them join on a more condensed timeline, opting for uh...private lessons,” he explained, his voice constricting at the word private.

“So… you’re saying I’ll be taking one on one lessons... with you?” you asked, chewing the inside of your lip. This sounds like a bad idea.

You were already painfully aware of the fact that you’d never truly gotten over your feelings for Kay and now you’d be spending one on one time with him on a weekly basis, all the while knowing it was only so you could enter into a marriage you didn’t truly want. Already your heart was racing and your mind was reeling with memories all clamoring for your attention.

You didn’t know if you could do this. If you should do this.

But part of you wanted to, if only to be close to him again.

“Will that… be a problem?” Kay asked slowly, as if he had to force the words out.

“No,” you answered quickly, “no, that sounds good.”

Liar.

“Are-are you sure? I mean, with our, ahh… history, I wouldn’t want —“

“I don’t want anyone else.”

At your words Kay’s eyes widened and you could practically hear his breath hitch from where you sat and for a moment neither of you spoke, the words hanging in the air like a confession and you felt your face once more grow hot.

“I mean, I don’t want anyone else for a teacher,” you amended, clutching your hands together in your lap.

I want you.

“Oh, y-yes, that’s… that’s good,” Kay murmured, taking a deep breath, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “We’ll start next week then.”

You nodded as you stood. “Sounds good to me.”

“[y/n]—“

Opening his office door, you hesitated, glancing back at him as he quickly called your name.

“Yes… Father?”

Kay swallowed thickly. “It… it truly is good to see you again.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, it is. Til next week, then.”

———————

Everything Tag List: @magic-multicolored-miracle @midnightseance @etherealsxnder @iamsexytrash @orions-nebula @slutforrobbiebro @super-unpredictable98 @misskittysmagicportal

[middleofnowhere92]

Ranking all ATLA Villains/Antagonists from worst to best (by someone who loves villains)

This post was inspired by this ask 

Warning: I swear quite a bit in this post and I’m a dumbass, not an ATLA scholar, so take this with a grain of salt. Also I have no idea wtf my ranking criteria was. I assigned arbitrary and meaningless points like Dumbledore giving all the points to Gryffindor at the end of the year. 

Iroh

 I have a secret for you...Iroh is an antagonist.... Say it with me... Iroh is an antagonist. For the people in the back, IROH IS AN ANTAGONIST. He’s not particularly good at at it, but he belongs on this list. Primary reason being, his siege on Ba Sing Se, which was a major battle in the 100 year war and all the other things he did in the war to become a general. If he was good at being a villain, he would at least have the decency to conquer the city, but as Ozai points out, Iroh excels at tea and failure. When we see Iroh in Book 1, He’s a very chill antagonist for the same reason a lot of our other antagonists are (June, the Yuyan Archers, Combustion man etc)-they are helping a villain achieve their goal. In Iroh’s case, he does help Zuko in many ways ( like sneaking him onto Zhao’s ship) and these in turn help Zuko get closer to his goal of capturing Aang. I love Iroh as a character, but he’s not good at being an antagonist, which is why he is ranked the worst. 

Circus Trainer

This man is straight up, evil. I like villains, but I do not like this man. He’s cruel and not in a fun way, which is why he’s near the bottom of the list. The whole point of being a villain is to be cool and do bad things, but he’s not even a little fun to watch. He’s the least interesting to look at... 

Yon Rha

This man is a coward. Like how did he lead the Southern Raiders? He went soft when he got old. He was more savage back in the day. Like this man is a firebender, but he cowers from Zuko before Katara even pops up. He needs to grow a pair. Like Katara said man is pa-thet-ic. 

The Rough Rhinos (ignoring the comics)

They get points for creating my favorite antagonist, Jet. But the first time we see these clowns in the show, the gang just rides away on Appa, easily avoiding them. And then the gang easily defeats them in their next run in. These clowns are good at destroying things, but not really fighting or pursuing others. 

Ozai

I expected more from this man. He was hyped up for three seasons and I just didn’t feel like he was smart enough to be the bad guy for the whole ass show.  The man clearly doesn’t think for himself or show up throughout the series doing  menacing things. The final agni kai overshadowed Ozai and Aang’s showdown. That’s the theme, Azula outshines a grown man as the star villain of the show. He does get some points for his fashion and flair for the dramatic. 

Mai's Uncle (Boiling Rock Warden)

This man, is a dumbass with the reflexes of a sloth. Suki overpowered him in 2 seconds flat. How is this grown man getting defeated by a little nugget like Suki? She was only holding his wrist. He could have just kicked her? Like you are a prison warden, look alive man! And he should have captured Zuko’s little ass and sent him right over to Ozai to get some street cred, but instead he just gets pissed cause Zuko broke up with Mai? First lesson in being a villain/antagonist- power over everything (including family). He does get points for ordering them to cut the line. That’s straight savage. 

Xin Fu and Yu

Toph gets it right, these are two dunderheads. How did they not hear Toph bending metal? They react almost as slowly as the Boiling Rock Warden, letting Toph easily overtake them. They are two skilled benders and they didn’t even stand a chance. 

General Fong

This man gets points for being a bat shit crazy. And I think he’s one of the first non fire nation antagonists we see in the show, so points for him. He’s an underrated antagonist. He does cool bending and his emotional manipulation to get Aang into the Avatar state is A+ villain work. 

Azulon

Azulon gets villain points for keeping the war going. He didn’t fuck it up like Ozai. But Azulon gets his villainness handed to him on a platter, he didn’t really do much, besides maintain status quo. We do get the scene where Ozai asks for the throne. But I don’t think Azulon assumed Ozai was going to kill Zuko. Azulon was trying to make a point, that Ozai’s request was absurd, but he obviously didn’t know Ozai well enough...

Koh

Koh almost didn’t make the list. I don’t really consider him to be an antagonist. Aang came to him asking for information and Koh was trying to do what he does..steal faces. He was just vibing. I included him on this list, because he antagonized us (the viewers). Dude is easily the most terrifying part of the show. 

Ghashiun

He muzzled Appa! He’s not ranked high on this list, because he didn’t know Appa was Aang’s so he wasn’t intentionally trying to fuck with the Avatar. I do like the sandbenders as a whole. They just run around causing chaos with their cool bending. This character, however, loses points, because when he is confronted about stealing Appa, he gets defensive and tries to lie. If you do something bad, at least have the balls to own up to it. 

Wan Shi Tong

Gets points for his flair for the dramatic a la Ozai. I did like Wan Shi Tong’s logic around not giving the gaang information: “You think you're the first person to believe their war was justified?!” He had more brain cells than some of our other villains/antagonists, but was also dumb too? Sokka pretty easily outsmarted him. This Spirit has been alive forever, he shouldn’t be outsmarted by a child. 

The Old Man

Oooof. I almost put him in the number one spot tbh. He did us and Haru so dirty. Like he could have died,but he turned in the person that saved him??? He gets points for shock value and pettiness. I personally think Jet should take him out...

June

June gets points for being a bad bitch. I like her vibe. She’ll do anything as long as you’re paying her the right price and I can respect that. She isn’t higher on the list, because she is executing someone else’s plan, not her own. 

The Yuyan Archers

Speaking of bad bitches, the Yuyan Archers are so cool and I wish they got more screen time! We see very few antagonists that can keep up with Aang the way that this group does. They add a bit of spice and a different flavor to what we know about Fire Nation fighting styles, which I approve of. I hope we see more of them in future ATLA projects. They aren’t higher up, because they are still doing someone else’s bidding. If they had their own leader and their own agenda, that would be some cool shit. 

Combustion Man

This man gets points for giving the gaang a lot of trouble. As viewers, we really worry about whether they will be able to defeat him. I like that he has a different style of bending, which in and of itself is terrifying. He still doesn’t make it up higher on the list, because he’s still doing someone else’s (Zuko’s) bidding.

Rig Warden

On second thought, I may have him ranked a little too high. But oh well, fuck it. He gets many many points for being voiced by George Takei. This man also gets points for having general villain swag. He is sassy and I am here for it. He’s highly effective at crushing the souls of the Earthbenders on the rig. Also, he does not stutter when Haru throws those rocks at him.Came at him full force which is what all the other himbos on this list should have been doing when these children played them! He outright told Katara he was gonna kill her “You’re one mistake away from dying where you stand.” Loses points for begging as he’s dragged off the rig. Go down with some dignity!

The Southern Raiders

So the Southern Raiders get ranked separately from Yon Rha, because he led them towards the end of their conquest. I think they started under Sozin’s reign. This group gets ranked fairly high, because they were very effective at their task. They came, they saw, they decimated-leaving the SWT defenseless and barely able to sustain itself. 

Mai

I like Mai and wish I could rank her higher. I like her knives, they are very cool form of defense that was unique to her. I also love how she just immediately flung arrows at Aang, no hesitation. She does get style points, her aesthetic is everything. Her one liners are pretty funny, “You’re so colorful, you’re making me nauseous.”  She lacks in her commitment. Anytime anything inconveniences her she’s just like eh, no thanks. Hardcore antagonists need to be have some dedication to their cause, which Mai does not.  I feel like she would eventually run out of weapons in a longer battle, which would be a big issue for her. 

Long Feng

Gets instant points for villain swag, creepy vibe and sass. This man kept news of a whole war from Ba Sing Se, even though the city was filled with refugees? Long Feng had his work cut out for him. He loses points, because he lets the children get away with too much. He should have locked down Aaang and co immediately, because they were trouble as soon as they rolled up. Also, he should have fought Azula. He let a fourteen year old take his whole career away. He was never even a player.

Sozin

Sozin gets a  large amount of hypothetical points from being the one to start it all. He’s the one who initiated the 100 year war. He did not play around. He used that comet to its maximum potential. Also he has a dragon, which is fucking cool. He gets bad bitch points for leaving Roku on the exploding island. Like that’s a power move right there. He wiped out the air nomads and invaded the Southern Water Tribe, which is why his successors  are ranked much lower on the list. They really didn’t do shit.

Hama

Gets points for being a waterbender, which is something cool that we hadn’t seen in a villain yet. She also gets points for executing her own deranged agenda. I would love to see her and Jet link up, cause that would have been chaos. She also gets heaps of points for inventing bloodbending. Many of the villains of this list can barely think and homegirl has big brain energy. She is cunning and quick, like when she utilizes Sokka and Aang to attack Katara. I like her general bruja (witch) vibes. She gets more points because she does not motherfucking stutter when Katara figures her out, she just starts bloodbending immediately. She really enjoys her power and I can’t blame her for it. She’s a baddie and she knows it. More points for Hama, because she gets Katara to carry on her legacy (whether she wants to or not) and goes off to jail with her dignity. She’s an all-star villain and I love to see it. She loses a few points, because her bloodbending is limited to the full moon, but she still has her waterbending which is terrifying enough...

Dai Li

Like the rig warden, I probably ranked these himbos too high, but I love them as henchmen. Their bending is amazing, they are sneaky and they can brainwash you? Like fuck me up man. They really are just a joy to watch and their betrayal of Long Feng is so unexpected. This group really creates the creepy/ominous aesthetic the creators were going for in Ba Sing Se. Don’t think their bending is good? They one upped Toph and almost had her, but Jet saved her at the last second. 

Zhao

I feel like Zhao’s characterization is inconsistent (sometimes he has a bad temper, sometimes he doesn’t?) which makes him hard to rank, but let’s do it anyway. He gets points for being voiced by the guy that played Lucius Malfoy, like yaaas work that Slytherin aesthetic. Gets points for using the Yuyan Archers. Loses a lot of points in his fight with Aang, like that child was obviously baiting him. He has a lot of ambition and actually has to work to his rise to power, which he obviously relishes. He’s the perfect antagonist for Zuko. He accomplished his goal of frying the fish/moon and he actually captures Aang. I think the writers added in his hot temper later on, because they realized he was too competent and had to give him a flaw. 

Zuko

Ohhh my morally confused prince, Where do we even start? Zuko gets a lot of points for his sheer determination. I would love to see an unhinged Zuko without Iroh. Zuko’s tenacity and unpredictability make him a fantastic antagonist. Iroh and Azula try to control Zuko, but they never really know what he’s gonna do next and neither do we as the viewers. He’s near the top of the list, because even with so many struggles he kept Aang on the run for two seasons. I like that he actually struggled to be good. He obviously loses points for joining the good guys, but we still love him. 

Jet

Speaking of morally grey, cue up Jet’s theme music. He gets instant points for swag and cool swords. Like the Yuyan archers, Jet is one of the few antagonists we see that can keep up with Aang. Like Zuko, Jet’s dedication to his cause get him high on this list, because he will defeat the Fire Nation at any cause. The creators lose points for being cowards and killing him off. We saw plenty of other people (Sokka) get hit with similar rocks and not die. Jet is a fantastic antagonist with a backstory that the audience can sympathize with. He loses points for not being more versatile in his tactics. I’ve written more on this here. 

Ty Lee

Katara is terrified of her, do I need to elaborate? Ty Lee by far has the scariest skill set on the show. It’s too easy for people to underestimate her. Katara and Suki make that mistake once and then never do it again. Like Toph, Ty Lee knows to wait for the right time to strike, making her highly effective at taking out our favorite benders and whole groups of benders (The Terra Team). Her betrayal of Azula is ICONIC and unexpected, but as always, Ty Lee knows just the right time to strike. I think Ty and Mai were perfectly capable of getting away at the Boiling Rock and I’m disappointed they were captured so easily. 

Azula

Look down, you’re talking to your highness. Can’t see her? She’s the reason for your blindness. 

To the surprise of absolutely no one, Azula is the baddest bitch in the game. PERIODT. She is ruthless, cunning and powerful. Her lightning bending is at a whole other level. She is the smartest person on this list. She takes Ba Sing Se from the inside out, utilizes the Da Li perfectly and has antagonized Zuko from the beginning. As far as I’m concerned, she was made to be Firelord. 

[florenceandthemachine]

my friend, if you wrote me a college au and/or a soccer player au for buddie i would owe you my whole life

first of all LAUREN I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME A YEAR TO GET TO THIS XOXO i loved the idea of a soccer fic so much but i do not know anything about the sport to do it right so i hope this 4.5k mess is still to your taste <3

second of all smooches as always to @buckleydiazs​ for helping me level out the softboi energies [ilu bb]

Let it be known that Edmundo Diaz was not a subtle man.

Patient, sure. Kind, absolutely. But subtle? Definitely not.

“Eddie, are you paying attention?”

“To you? Always, Buckaroo.”

“I’ve told you before, it’s just Buck. So, what’s the answer to number four?”

No one was better at throwing the already minute amount of subtlety he had out the window than Evan Buckley. It should have been embarrassing—would have been, if it were anyone else—but that’s just how Buck was. If you didn’t love him, you were either an idiot, or an asshole, or both. 

Eddie just happened to wear his... Buck-related emotions a little more on the sleeve than most.

“Ah, no, close, but you have to remember to multiply air resistance on both sides.”

“Right, thanks Buck-amuck.”

“Eddie, no.”

Buck was hot, sure, but more disastrously, he was cute. He was so cute, and he was nice, and Eddie wasn’t sure how much longer he was was going to last under the never ending amount of support and care he got from Buck before he combusted; and it had started at day one. College hadn’t been high on his list for a long time, the thought of starting college when most people his age were graduating something he didn’t know how to approach—but after his tour in Afghanistan all he wanted was a normal life, and Buck... well, Buck was a big help in that.

He wasn’t sure what he appreciated more—the fact that Buck didn’t treat him like some sort of hero after doing only a tour in Afghanistan, the fact that Buck didn’t give a fuck about his age (“Twenty three is not that old, Eddie, you’re barely four years older than me, stop being so dramatic”), or the fact that two weeks into their college career, when Buck walked in to find Eddie with his hand down his pants and distinctively male moans coming from his phone, instead of getting angry or being disgusted, he had almost passed out laughing at Eddie’s embarrassment.

“...no, hang on, how did you even get that number? Where did that come from?”

“Buck-uccino, I’m never going to get this. I’m doomed.”

“Eddie, you—oh god, never use that one again—you’re going to get it. We’ll keep working at it.”

That, though, that was the worst part about rooming with Buck. He was tenacious, or maybe just caring, or nice, or whatever—because when Eddie had started failed his Physics midterm and learned about the very real threat of academic probation (which would mean no grants, no scholarships, no more soccer), Buck had dropped everything and started tutoring Eddie whenever he could. Even now, he was smiling at Eddie like he believed he could do anything, and damn if Eddie didn’t want to believe him.

Buck was just that kind, that sweet, that good—and Eddie was that gone.

--

“Chim, keep your feet moving! Come on!”

As teasing as Eddie may have been wherever Buck was involved, he was completely different when he was on the field. He was every bit the teammate that commanded respect, pushed his players to do better, and kept his team motivated—enough that he had fit in seamlessly with the team, despite being only in his second year, despite his age gap, despite everything.

“Good, Bosco! Keep it up!”

If only Eddie could keep himself that motivated while he was studying. He tried, he really did—but he wasn’t sure if it was the continuous closeness of Buck as they poured over Eddie’s notes, or the impossibility of the materials he was studying (he was in the Army, for fucks sake, he didn’t need to care about the force exerted by his helicopters rotors—he only needed to know that it would fly), but every time they cracked open his physics book, it felt like Eddie was smashing his head into a brick wall.

Things just made more sense out here. Eddie was in his element, and anyone who knew him, who even looked at him, would know that—so it really, really shouldn’t have come as a surprise when Chim jogged over to him, keeping his high knees going as he hopped in place, jerking his chin somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder while he and Hen worked on some touchless passes.

“Looks like you have a visitor.”

Eddie turned around from his position near the goal, squinting over to the tunnel, his face immediately brightening as he saw who it was. He kept himself moving in a jog as he closed the distance between he and Buck easily, all smiles as Buck looked up from his phone. Eddie had to laugh at the image of this kid standing in the middle of the tunnel, forcing the athletes who were running in and out of the locker room to move around him.

It made sense; Buck really was an immovable force.

Eddie wanted to kiss him so bad.

“Well, if it isn’t my good-luck-Buck!” Eddie said, pushing a wide smile onto his face and one of his favorite nicknames out into the air so he would stop staring at Buck’s lips when the other scowled. “What are you doing here?”

Sighing, Buck pushed back off the wall, raising a brow. “Well, I was going to give you a crash course in force, speed, air resistance, and velocity, but if you call me that again—”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Eddie said, legitimately smiling now as he slowed his pace, starting to catch his breath. “Here, I’ll grab my stuff and we can grab a bleacher or something, I’ll just be a—”

“Nope.” Buck said, popping the ‘p’, his annoyance easily forgotten as he playfully pushed Eddie’s shoulder back to the field. “Grab your team and a ball, we’re learning on the field.”

Eddie stared at him, confusion evident on his face for only a moment before he lit up in understanding, calling out to the rest of the team. He had to admit, this was definitely one of Buck’s better ideas—not that Buck had ever had a bad idea, for the record—but if you wanted a surefire way to get Eddie to pay attention to anything, you threw a soccer ball at it.

Eddie was pleased to know that Buck clearly knew at least that much about him, the feeling dancing in his gut with the reassurance he felt whenever he was reminded that his team had his back. They worked easily with Buck as he ordered them around, had them try different kicks, using the arc of the ball through the air to point out speed, force, gravity. Eddie wasn’t about to say that it was working, but it had to be a good thing that he was forced into a situation where he could focus on something other than Bucks’ voice, or the way that his skin felt when their hands brushed over a textbook.

No, there was no room for soft touches and smiles now; Eddie was stuck in a goal, the smile on Buck’s face far more devious than soft as he explained the rules of their next exercise. Buck was going to ask a question. Eddie was going to give the equation that could be used to solve the problem. It sounded easy enough, but—

"If you can give me the right equation to solve the problem, you get to use your hands to block the shot. If you don’t, you have to use your head.”

...okay, yeah, nothing about that sounded easy.

The fact that Eddie had a team full of sadists didn’t seem to help, either—he no longer cared about how nice they were being to Buck to help him help Eddie when they were really just in it to torment him. It wasn’t fair.

He tried to voice as much, but Buck just called him out for whining. Which was also unfair.

Worst of all was afterward; even after he was able to use his arms around half of the shots, his teammates were terrible, horrible people, and Chim proved exactly why once they retreated to the locker room.

“You know Diaz, I think you did pretty well out there.” he started, and Eddie immediately felt himself on guard—he knew that any compliment after an evening as brutal as that was likely to be designed to lull him into a false sense of security.

“...thanks, Chim.” he started, eyes narrowed. “I think I might actually have a change of this thing.” Chim clapped him on the back, the grin on his face telling Eddie all he needed to know, and he felt himself ready to groan when Chim cut him off.

“That’s good! I know it must have been hard for you, but, hey think about it this way. At the very least, Buck now knows that you can handle some balls flying at your face.”

Chim’s laugh turned into a sharp yelp as Eddie clipped him with a rat tail, but that didn’t prevent the words from echoing through his head for the rest of the night, cheeks burning bright red whenever he caught Buck looking at him funny.

--

“Alright, we’re done for the night. I can practically see the smoke pouring out of your ears.”

“It’s impossible, Buck-fifty. I’m gonna fail, and I’m gonna get kicked out, and you’ll never get to see my beautiful face ever again.”

Eddie groaned, head resting against the open textbook on the table, hiding his head in his hands. They had been studying off and on for weeks, and while Eddie was pretty proud of the things he had started to memorize and retain, he still didn’t know how they worked, how they fit together, how to chose one over the other in a problem, and he was starting to feel like he might never understand it.

“Christ, stop being dramatic. This is a marathon, not a sprint, and this class is not going to be the end of your world, not if I can help it. But what you need now is a break.” Buck said, ignoring the nickname and the dramatics in one fell swoop. He had his phone out in a half second, scrolling through a few different feeds, before his face lit up. “Come on, Lena invited the whole team over for a game night. We’re going to get you out of your head and you’re going to relax, damn it.”

Eddie wasn’t too proud to admit that his heart did a little flip when he realized that Lena and Buck were texting on the regular, something about his friends liking Buck (and Buck liking his friends!) making his heart swell. “I don’t know, Buck, maybe we should just stay in so I can work on my—“

“Nope.” Buck interrupted, popping the end of the word, pulling the book out from under Eddie’s head, ignoring the whine that Eddie gave when his head thunked against the table. “I’m serious, I’ve burned myself out many times before, you need to take the night and remember why you’re actually studying. Passing is great, but we both know the reason you’re working so hard isn’t for the class, it’s for your team, your friends.”

It’s for you, Eddie wanted to say, but the words died in his throat before he could even take a breath in.

They were on their way quickly enough, trekking easily to the Phi Sigma Chi sorority house .

Buck looked fucking adorable, cheeks pinked in the cold air, blond mop of curls peeking out from the brim of his beanie, and Eddie couldn’t help himself. “Buck, you know what Lena says when she means game night, right?” he asked as he threw his arm around Buck’s shoulder, relishing in the way that Buck easily fell into step next to him as they walked. Buck smiled up to him, practically batting his eyes, and Eddie felt himself melt. “Yeah, things like Mario Kart or Smash, right? Or maybe Clue? Monopoly?”

Three hours later, Eddie was seeing Buck in a whole new light—because Buck wasn’t just kind, and smart, and adorable.

Buck was a fucking hustler.

And Eddie was fucking hammered.

He let out a whoop of joy as Buck sunk another ping pong ball in front of Hen and Chim, winning their eighth game in a row, with Eddie taking every drink that anyone scored against their team (Buck was still underage, after all—Eddie may have been a dope where Buck was involved but he wasn’t an idiot).

The thing was, when you had a partner that was amazing at beer pong, you didn’t get to drink nearly as much, so no one could blame Eddie for supplementing himself with several shots throughout the night, one of which spilled as he loudly cheered for Buck’s incredible prowess. Buck laughed at a much more indoor-volume beside him, gasping as Eddie lifted him into the air and Hen let out a wail of defeat, idly shoving the cup toward Chim. Buck’s laugh turned about a pitch higher as Eddie spun, grabbing onto his shoulders for support, looking at him with starry eyes once he got Buck back down to his feet.

“Buck, you… you’re so… how are you so good?!” Eddie asked, voice a rasp of a whisper, like he was asking for the secrets of the universe, and Buck couldn’t have helped the way he smiled if he tried.

He felt his cheeks heat up as he lifted a ping pong ball, twirling it between two of his fingers. “You know, physics? Just think, Eddie, you could use that big brain to be a beer pong champion.” He asked, laughing as Eddie threw his arms around his shoulder, a ragged exclamation of “YOU’RE SO SMART!” leaving his lips as Buck struggled to accommodate the sudden dead weight.

“Uh—“

“Okay, that’s usually a sign that it’s time for Eddie to go home.” Hen, his guardian angel, appeared next to him, helping Eddie stand a little more upright. “You guys walked, right? Karen can probably bring you back, I just—“

“Oh, no, that’s okay! I should be able to get him back, now that he’s upright.” Buck said, waving away her concern as he put Eddie’s arm around his shoulders, the other hand secure on his hip as they started to make their way to the front of the house.

Eddie might have been mostly incapacitated by that point, but that didn’t stop him from waving and saying what he thought was a perfectly coherent goodbye to everyone, the cold night air doing little (but still at least doing something) to help his coordination.

Eddie was content to walk in silence for only a moment, his head tilting onto his shoulder as he looked over to Buck, suddenly feeling so much lighter than he had a moment ago.

“Buck, you’re so nice to me.”

Buck was laughing. Why was Buck laughing? Eddie was completely serious.

“Buckinator, I’m serious. You’re so nice. And you’re smart, and you’re so pretty. Did you know?”

“Eddie, you are as drunk as you’ve ever been.” Buck murmured, shaking his head, and Eddie was definitely annoyed that it was night time—because he would have bet money that Buck was blushing.

Eddie started to whine as Buck pulled out his dorm card (“I’m not drunk, Buck! I’m serious!”), successfully swiping them both into the building and their room, depositing Eddie easily into his bed as he grabbed a bottle of water. He took a detour to their bathroom to pull out the little bottle of Advil he kept beneath the sink, handing Eddie both of them after cracking them both open.

Eddie stared at the pills in his hand, not entirely sure how he got there, his stomach tightening up as he looked up to Buck. “Hey Bucka… Buck, the… hey Buck?”

Okay, he was effectively drunk enough that he couldn’t think of a nickname. He popped the Advil into his mouth, swigging the water he was given as Buck closed the door, pulling Eddie’s blanket’s back. “What’s up, Eds?”

Eddie felt himself start to be lowered slowly, sluggishly tugging his feet up onto his bed, unsure as to where his shoes had gone, but he wasn’t going to complain. “We’ll still be friends if I end up failing out of school and having to become a hermit who… who lives under a bridge or something, right?” he managed to get out, and Buck’s eyes snapped up toward Eddie’s face. He wasn’t too sure when they had crossed the line from happy drunk to sad drunk, but damn, they had crossed that line at the speed of sound.

“Eddie, hey, no. You’re not going to fail out, and you’re going to be fine. Even if that doesn’t happen… you’re stuck with me, nerd. I’m not about to let you get away that easy.”

Eddie sniffled, nodding his head as Buck pulled his covers up, rolling to face the wall as he heard Buck change, the lights flicking off shortly after. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself, closing his eyes as he felt the room start to wobble. He didn’t realize he was speaking until his mouth was already open, voice soft in the dark.

“I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

Eddie sniffed again, his breath slowing down as he heard Buck shift in his bed, just sober enough to feel Buck’s eyes digging into the back of his head, but just exhausted enough to slip into sleep instead of roll over, only barely listening as Buck responded.

“… just don’t give up, Eds. You got this, I know you do.”

--

The Sunday before the final that would decide his entire life (“I’m begging you, stop being such a drama queen.”), the last thing on Eddie’s mind was physics—he was too focused on the beautiful boy beneath him. He could have drowned in the noises Buck was making as Eddie kissed at his neck, his collar, his swollen lips, the cord of muscle in his neck. He felt Buck’s hands lace with his, the movement more intimate than anything he could have imagined, and he let out a groan as he rolled his hips down, grinding against Buck, and—

—and then Eddie woke up to a soccer ball bouncing off of his head.

Grunting in pained surprise, he shot straight up out of bed, almost falling to the floor, blankets pooling around his hips as he jerked his head around, focus snapping to the sound of Buck’s laughter.

(It was a small soothe to chase away the taste of Buck on his lips, the phantom feel of Buck’s body beneath his, flexing his hands like he could still feel their fingers laced together.)

“Buccaneer, what the fuck?!”

“Come on, we’re burning daylight. Aren’t you usually on the field, like, before the sun is up most days?”

“Yeah, maybe when my career wasn’t already over.” Eddie whined, rubbing at his eyes. Eddie wanted nothing more than to throw the blankets back up over his head and roll over—but he knew from experience that Buck would have just ripped his comforter off and dragged him outside, if he had to, and Eddie was in no... physical state (after the dream he had) to risk losing the safe amount of cover the blanket was currently providing.

Honestly, even after being beaned in the head by a soccer ball, he couldn’t stay mad—not when Buck was smiling at him, physics book and coffee in one hand, the other occupied once more as he bent down to pick up the ball. He really, really didn’t deserve Buck, and it made Eddie feel all the guiltier, knowing full well the thoughts that were running through his mind less than an hour ago.

Thankfully, Buck seemed to soften as Eddie’s emotions played across his face, sighing and rolling his eyes as he tossed Eddie the jersey hanging over the back of his desk chair. “Hey, it’s not over yet. You will get this, I promise. Now, It’s 9 AM, and you’re going to do your drills while I drill you.”

So he was just never going to get that image out of his head, ever. Cool.

An hour later, Eddie was dressed, on the field, working on his figure eights, fueled only by the coffee that Buck had brought him and a burning annoyance for the day as a whole as Buck launched question after question at him.

He kept up his pace as they went back and forth, moving through a few different drills as Buck continued to question him, asking about formulas, equations, situations, making Eddie walk through each step he would do if he had a calculator in front of him. It was exhausting, but Eddie couldn’t deny that it was working—and he really, really didn’t want to look to deeply into the little moments of pride he felt when Buck smiled at him and moved on to the next problem.

He was lining up a row of shots when Buck started on another problem, sinking each shot perfectly into the net, describing the relationship between friction, air resistance, and velocity, when Buck interrupts.

“No, that’s not right.”

Eddie’s next shot goes wide as he turns back to Buck, his eyes narrowed as he goes over everything in his head. “What?”

“Go over it again.” Buck has his head mostly hidden behind the practice exam, and Eddie felt himself fall out of step for a moment before he pulled back for another kick.

“I know the force of gravity.” Eddie started, another kick sinking directly into the goal, refocusing himself.

“And I know the falling distance and the mass.” He continued, taking a sneak peek back at Buck, who quickly ducked his head again.

“And,” another kick, another goal. “I know the equation for air resistance, because you’ve basically pummeled it into my head.” He said, Buck’s little laugh not unnoticed, and Eddie smiled in spite of his frustration.

He lined up his next shot and sunk it, chewing on his lip.

“Then I was right, Buck!” Eddie said, pacing back and forth between the cones he had set up. “I would measure the change in distance and double it, I would divide it by the total time minus the air resistance, and I would subtract the initial velocity. That’s, like, textbook, what could I possibly have—“ Finally catching Buck’s eye, Eddie paused, thrown for a loop as Buck put the practice test down, expression stopping Eddie dead in his tracks.

Because Buck was absolutely beaming at him.

“You’re ready.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie was glad that he had already launched his last ball into the net, because he literally tripped over his feet, catching himself at the last moment as he jogged over to where Buck was sitting, peering over his shoulder.

Every answer that Eddie had given had been circled on the practice exam, not a drop of red ink anywhere on the page. “Wait, I got them right? I... I was right?”

“Even when I tried to tell you you were wrong—which you weren’t, by the way—you still stuck to what you knew, you were confident enough not to second guess yourself, and you proved it. Eddie, you’re ready. You’re going to crush it.”

Eddie looked at the test, then back at Buck, then back at the test, and he couldn’t resist it—he picked Buck up, laughing ecstatically as he spun Buck in his arms. He was feeling more confident than he had in an age and a half, and he knew he had the dopiest expression on his face when he set Buck down, his hands still linked around Buck’s waist.

…with Buck’s hands resting on his shoulders.

“I knew you could do it, Eds.” Buck said, and Eddie felt his face heating up. He had never doubted Buck, not for a minute, even while he was still racked with his own insecurities—but any thanks, any recognition, any anything, were drowned out in Eddie’s throat as Buck moved his hand off of Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie could have sworn he saw stars when he felt the warmth from Buck’s hand rest right against the crook of his neck, thumb on Eddie’s pulse point, his eyes wide as Buck smiled. “I’m really, really proud of you.”

Eddie felt like he was living in a dream his hands sliding down to hold Buck’s hips, half expecting Buck to pull away—finding his smile even brighter instead. Buck looked so happy, so content to be in Eddie’s arms, his smile wide and his eyes sparkling, and Eddie had to swallow, feeling the contrast to himself—sweating, out of breath, probably a little crazy eyed, but… Buck was still looking at him like that.

“Buck, I’m… Can I, um... can I?” Eddie found himself murmuring, chewing his bottom lip. It would kill him right now to let Buck go, when he was this close—but of course, if Buck said the word, he would have leapt back like he was on fire.

He wasn’t sure if it was relief or elation that he felt, heart pounding, when Buck leaned in instead of answering, his thumb catching just the corner of Eddie’s lip before Buck’s lips met his own.

Kissing Buck was like finding God—and yeah, that was probably the worst possible analogy he could have made, but it was true. Buck kissed him and suddenly everything felt right, something sliding into place so deeply in his heart and soul that he had no idea how he had been surviving without. 

He felt more than he heard Buck moan against his lips and he came crashing down into his own body, pulling back just enough to breathe, unable to keep the huge smile off of his own face. He had to duck his head, the moment getting to be a bit too much for him, the typical enthusiastic show he put up dulled for a moment as he looked up to Buck through his lashes.

“So... that’s okay, then?”

Buck only laughed, tilting Eddie’s head up for another small kiss. “Eddie, that was great. I’ve been gone on you since, like, the first shitty nickname you gave me.” he said, his voice dipping, suddenly going red as he realized what he said—but the damage was already done.

Eddie’s eyes lit up as he tightened his grip around Buck, his grin spreading so far across his face that it actually hurt. 

“Ten-point-Buck. Buck-a-boo. Bucky bear.”

“Eddie, no, that wasn’t supposed to encourage you.”

“...does this mean I get to grab your bubble-Buck?” Eddie asked sweetly, throwing his head back and laughing as Buck buried his head in his shoulder, face burning red.

(Eddie passed his final, obviously—but as excited as he was with the big, red, 91 circled at the top of his page, nothing compared to the warmth he felt when he opened the door to his dorm and found Buck waiting for him in one of his old jerseys. He easily caught Buck in his arms as he jumped, choosing to catch Buck’s lips in a kiss rather than say anything.

After all, he may have had a thousand nicknames at the ready, but for Eddie, nothing compared to calling Buck “mine”.)

[chanswavyhair]

filter | hwang hyunjin

warning: some cursing, fem!reader, too much fluff akshka.

a/n: this is my first time writing a fic and not a timestamp so,,, i hope it’s not very bad. this was kinda inspired by bts jimin’s filter but jagsjh,, anyways hope you enjoy it!!

you were in trouble

like,,, you were usually in trouble but THIS ONE WAS BIG

so you basically agreed with your parents that you would attend some ball ???

and with your boyfriend as your plus one ?????

well to start off you didn’t have a boyfriend and you didn’t even know why did you just say that HSJAKAH

you could do many things, but backing off and hurting your pride WAS NOT ON YOUR LIST

so now you had to find a boyfriend in like a month and half

i mean... you could ask jisung or felix, but you knew how uncomfortable they felt with your richies

also they didn’t give off the rich, classy and charming boyfriend look

well,, your friends were really handsome but not the type of handsome high society liked

but anyways that’s a problem for the future Y/N because we ain’t getting distracted at chemistry !! your grades were NOT falling

yeah you were living the rich and perfect y/n life

anyways in fact you were pretty annoying HSJSJD

you got very !! stressed !! when things were out of your control

there were only a few <lovely3 people who truly knew you and stood you, and they were jilix and your sis ryujin

(who invited her bestie daehwi, but he was rich too so he had no prob)

like,,, you usually hung out with your sis’ friends, but you weren’t THAT close

and for jisung and felix’s friends,,,,, it was weird when they weren’t all together

and that’s how jisung had the dumbest idea ever, and he’s had A LOT

like that one time he convinced you to let him dye your hair (you ended up looking like a light bulb)

or when you shaved his legs (WORST EXPERIENCE EVER YOU ALMOST GO DEAF but it was kinda fun)

anyways he just let out “why don’t you tell hyunjin? you know he does this weird thing of getting paid for acting as a boyfriend”

“what the FUCK JISUNG i am NOT paying hyunjin to act as my BOYFRIEND”

and,,, guess who heard you freaking out

nope not hyunjin but your sis ryujin

and her friend yeji

who hapepened to be hyunjin’s cousin

so yeah she told him and he went  ($ ‿ $✧)

now he’s been “AnAlyZInG” you for some days

and you were too busy thinking about your problem to notice it

so he decided to make a move, as you didn’t

“hey Y/N... somebody told me about your problem”

huh?

HUH??

��uh, what do you mean?”

“i know you need someone to be your supposed boyfriend in some ball”

lol it actually sounded really lame

THAT’S WHY YOU ONLY TRUSTED T H R E E PEOPLE

“wait— what do you mean???”

“well, i could help you and act as your boyfriend. i’m feeling generous, so i will lower the usual tax. which version do you want? cute? prince char—”

the fuck no, you weren’t that PATHETIC

“i’m sorry, but i don’t want your help. thank you anyways”

,,,,,,in that moment it turned to something personal to hyunjin

who wouldn’t want to be his girlfriend???? at least if it’s just for a night????

and that’s how he started to be such a gentleman to you, to smile at you everytime you locked eyes, to initiate skinship

you knew he had ulterior moves, so you were irritated by him

but he was actually way more charming that you thought,,,,,,

like

HE WAITED FOR YOU AT YOUR LOCKER EVERY MORNING JUST TO GREET YOU

“’morning Y/N, looking fine today. how are you feeling? good?”

you were literally on a big ass sweater, but the bags in your eyes were even bigger

“hyunjin it’s too early and i’ve barely slept so please leave me alone—”

“oh, that’s no good,, should i call you tonight to make sure you fall asleep?. anyways, i’ll see you in english class. don’t forget we had homework!”

and,,, he always shared his food whenever you forgot yours,,,,,

he proved himself to be more than a cute face

he tried to help you whenever he noticed you were struggling to understand anything

and one out of five words he said were just him flirting

you eventually started not minding him being around you everyday

and then soome time after that,,, your heart ??? suddenly started to do weird things ??? when he was close to you ???

you MAYHAPS had a little crush on him

BUT IT WAS NOTHING SERIOUS HE WAS JUST TOO CUTE WHENEVER HIS DIMPLES SHOWED

or when HIS EYES WENT,,, (◠‿◠✿)

but you did NOT like him, right?

RIGHT???

he just treated you so well ಥ⌣ಥ

well lucky for you because this boy was also confused as fuck

since when have you been covering you beautiful smile when you laughed???

he honestly just wanted to put your hands down and tickle attack you

but that was just because he was getting into his role right??

RIGHT?????

anyways things got even worse for your weak heart when you saw him at you favorite cafe, studying, looking just TOO GOOD TO BE REAL

and then,,,, you two started to go studying there every evening

at some point he even started ordering your usual comand before you came

and,,, when you found yourself getting distracted by hyunjin’s cute mole under his eye by the 4th time you started to think that...

you maybe...... liked him ????

like... YOU liked HIM ??????

WHAT THE FUCK Y/N

“i have finished all my assignments. how about you?”

“i- i still have lots to do. you should go first or it will get late— ”

“and that’s why i’m staying. you shouldn’t go home alone it’s dark, i’ll walk you, if you don’t mind. and don’t worry, i don’t have anything to do now”

.......

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

you liked him A LOT

but you knew he was just being this nice so he could prove that you should hire him

which was not happening, as if wasn’t enough to fall for this boy :(

the thing is

he had forgotten about that weeks ago when his feelings grew bigger

he didn’t understand what he felt, but he knew he felt insanely good when you were around him

like whenever he told you he felt he was going to fail an exam you looked at him in some kind of way

he didn’t understand how or why, but he felt like whatever was worrying him didn’t matter anymore

and everything he wanted to talk, see, or think of was you

anyways he started to walk you home whenever he got the chance

this one day,,, you weren’t going to the cafe because you had things to do at home

but he insisted to walk you

so he was waiting for you in the hall

then he saw you at your locker talking with some random boy who was quite close to you

his heart went :(

but then he realized you were not exactly happy ??

“look, yeonsung, i already told you that i won’t tutor you. please leave me alone”

“no, Y/N you don’t understand, you HAVE to. we are meant to be, and if you won’t accept my dates at least help me with school stuff. it’s not that hard.” he grabbed your arm.

“yeonsung, no. let me go” you tried to pull, but he wouldn’t release you.

enough bullshit

“hey, i think you’ve heard her. she doesn’t want anything to do with you, so you’d better stop bothering Y/N. i’m not as polite as her”

“who the fuck are you? oh, little Y/N you’ve got some dickhead as your boyfriend? i’m much better than that. if only you fucking let me-”

ok so hyunjin’s blood has been burning for some time now but when he PUT HIS HANDS ON YOUR WAIST-

wait

did he

(・о・)(・о・)(・о・)(・о・)

DID HYUNJIN JUST CRASHED HIM INTO THE LOCKERS

“listen here, you asshole. if you dare to touch a single strand of her again i’ll fucking show you myself how to keep your hands down. understood?”

“un- understood”

“you’d better have” he pressed him a bit more before he let him fall on his feet

“let’s go away” hyunjin grabbed your hand

Y/N.exe has stopped working

hyunjin..... threatened this guy..... because he was harassing you

which was kinda hot btw ????

Y/N FOCUS

“hyunjin you didn’t have to-”

“don’t tell i didn’t have to because i made my best effort not to break his fucking nose.”

(๑ ● o ● ๑)

wow

he was really mad

“hyunjin-”

“Y/N, i know you are probably angry at me and that you want me to mind my own business, but i swear i-”

“HYUNJIN”

Y/N since WHEN did you have the GUTS to cup his face ?????

he went silent

“hey, calm down, ok? i’m not mad at you, this guy has been asking me weird things for some time now so i guess you just helped me to end it. i’m fine, yeah? calm down.”

you realized you were still holding his face so you were about to take them off but

HHHHhhhHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhHHHHHhhhh

HWANG HYUNJIN

WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU DUMMY

he put his hand ON your hands

why was he POUTING

“why didn’t you tell me? or anyone? he could have done anything worse if i hadn’t been there and Y/N, i honestly don- i don’t know what would i do if someone hurt you”

WHY WERE HIS EYES LOOKING AT YOU THAT WAY

(◕︵◕) INTENSIFIES

YOUR HEART WENT HHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhHHHhhhhhhhH

 AND YOUR FACE WAS GOING TO COMBUST AT ANY MOMENT

“it- it’s okay. let’s just forget it. come on, i have to go home”

“wait let me- please, let me hold you for a minute”

he DEADASS HUGGED YOU

AND

BURIED

HIS

FACE

IN

YOUR

HAIR ???????

HWANG HYUNJIN YOU ARE FUCKING RUINING THIS POOR GIRL’S HEART

“you smell really good. i wish i could stay like this for a bit longer... but it’s okay. anyways, let’s go”

you can imagine how HARD ryujin laughed at you when you told her you thought you had forgotten how to breathe

“Y/N YOU MORON, YOU DIDN’T JUST STAYED THERE STILL, PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN’T”

“i HATE U STOP LAUGHING AT ME—”

“OR ELSE WHAT YOU’LL TELL HYUNJIN TO BREAK MY NOSE?”

yeah she was crying out of laughter

but anyways you two stopped shouting when your mother entered the room

“kids, have you already invited someone to the ball? it’s just week and half apart”

O SHIT

THE BALL

so now you were disturbing felix and jisung again with it

“Y/N just ASK HYUNJIN”

“ i CAN’T BECAUSE I ALREADY TOLD HIM THAT I WOULDN’T PAY HIM”

“Y/N,,,,,,,, has it ever crossed your mind that you two act just like a couple?”

(?・・)

“felix what do you mean he doesn’t like me and-”

“hi guys! hi Y/N.” he smiled at you with his whole heart and patted your hair “can you go today to the cafe? i don’t have much to study today, but we can go if you want to. i mean,, if you don’t want to it’s fine, i’ll just walk you home from here, if that’s cool with you.”

felix gave you that look

like the one he gave you when he was right

which was a bit usual because socializing wasn’t your best trait

but hyunjin didn’t like you, did he????

he was... he was just acting

as much as it hurt you, that was the truth

and in order to protect yourself... you should stop it

u MASOCHIST <(｀^´)>

“i think i’ll just go alone. don’t wait for me, it’s fine.”

you lost your appetite with just saying that

and hyunjin was like ????

you could see your two other boys-

Y/N! hyunjin is not your boy so stop it

anyways, jisung and felix were really confused too

well it was actually jisung because felix was more like DONE with your bullshit

you just went back to your classes and then, you went home

has routine been always this boring?

you couldn’t help but smile when you saw that hyunjin sent you a message asking about what where you doing tomorrow

but then you remembered you couldn’t let this hurt you anymore

so you said you were really busy at home and turned your phone off

“Y/N are you, okay?” ryujin said

“yeah, i am. why wouldn’t i be?”

“you don’t have to lie to me, sis. majorly because you can’t. talk to me, Y/N, tell me what’s wrong” she laughed softly

“i am... i am cutting off any relation with hyunjin.”

“what? why? you guys seemed to be getting along really well. i thought you liked him...”

“that’s why, ryu. i like him way too much. before he started talking to me, he told me to hire him to act as my boyfriend in the ball. he’s been trying to prove it, and i don’t want to fall deeper. i don’t know why did i let myself trust him, when i knew this from the first moment. i just don’t know why.

:(((( you started crying, and ryujin hugged you

“i don’t... i don’t think hyunjin is such a bad person to go this far with that thing of wanting you to hire him... but if you think that’s the best, then i’ll support your decision. we can sit in another table tomorrow. you know, just the girls, you and me. okay?”

you nodded into her embrace, trying to stop sobbing.

“okay”

so you started to avoid him as much as you could

and it was eventually making him crazy

well,,, he had been coping with whOle week without you

until he just exploded

“guys, i don’t understand. everything was going really good, and then she started to treat me as cold as fuck. and i don’t get what did i do to deserve this.” he complained to his boys

he was really disappointed

because he knew he felt different to what he had ever felt before with you

he thought he was learning to fall in love, to stop worrying just about him and his friends

“am i not enough? have i bored her? or have i pressured her? i’m going crazy because i don’t even know why do i feel like this”

(ಥ⌣ಥ)

“hyunjin you like her is pretty easy actually”

did minho just

DID LEE FUCKING MINHO JUST

“what????? i’d never had something like that for anyone. it’s true things are different with her but—”

“when was the last time you did that fake dating thing?” chan asked

“well... like a month? i was busy”

“busy with what you genius”

seungmin don’t cross the line

“i... i was spending time with Y/N”

was this boy the same hwang hyunjin from a month before???

“omfg guys i think i like her but like a lot”

“dumbass that’s exactly what we are saying”

poor jeongin got slightly hit buy the so called dumbass :(

“but this doesn’t have anything to do with why she’s been dodging me like bullets??”

they all looked to felix and jisung, expecting they would know anything

“to be honest... i‘m not sure. she hasn’t told us anything” jisung said.

“well, the last time we talked about you we told her to ask you to go with her to her parents’ ball, and then i told her that you two already looked like a couple” felix said

then felix went

（・□・；）

“oh... so she doesn’t like me...”

hyunjin felt like the whole world was going down

there was this thing burning on his chest, a thing that he thought he could only feel for his friends or family

but then, you showed him he was wrong, again

“wait- i think i’ve connected the two dots— ” jisung said, but lix interrumped him

“no, you didn’t connect shit. i get it now. hyunjin, she thinks that you’ve been acting all the time to prove you should go with her to the ball. that’s why she’s avoiding you, because she thinks you just tried to play her” felix said

hyunjin’s heart broke a bit more when he processed felix’s words

(╥_╥) (╥_╥) (╥_╥) (╥_╥)

he... he hurt you

and really bad

“oh god, i’m so fucking stupid. what do i do know? she hates me!”

“ugh, go get your girl you dumbass!” changbin said

hyunjin suddenly started working again, and rushed off while calling someone.

so yeah back with u lil creature

you were doing homework, but you couldn’t focus

so you went to the kitchen to grab some snacks

and then your phone ringed

“ryujin?” you answered

“yeah. i’m at daehwi’s and i forgot to take a jacket. i will be passing be there in his car in like... 15 minutes. could you give me the versace one?”

“the colorful one or the leather one? ” you asked with your mouth full of a chocolate cookie

ryujin felt relief

“the leather one”

“okay. but weren’t you studying in the library for a physics exam?”

o shit

“i just went to his house! to study together! anyways! see you later! sis!”

????? weird

anyways you finished your math homework, and when you realized, you just got a message from her saying she was outside

so you got her jacket and opened the door in order to look for daehwi’s car

oh hyunjin’s there

cool

WAIT WHAT

you slammed the door in his face

then you realized THAT WAS WAY WORSE

“OMG I’M SORRY”

“can you open please?” he said from outside

you really missed his deep and soothing voice

“i- well- yes”

you opened the door, not being able to look directly at him

“can we talk? just give me five minutes, and if you still hate me after that i’ll just stop bothering you”

“i don’t hate you, and you- you aren’t bothering me”

“well... this past days it didn’t look like that. more like, exactly the opposite”

you went silent because you had literally no excuse

“are you mad?” he said

“why would i?”

“i don’t know either, that’s why i’m asking. i mean, it’s not like you’ve been avoiding me for days, not answering a single message or call. that’s all”

touché

“are you mad?”

you knew he should be, you deeply hoped he wouldn’t

“Y/N, i know you thought i was playing with you”

“wait- you weren’t?”

“oh god. i really told you i didn’t know what would i do if anyone hurt you, so why would i?”

“i thought... you were trying to prove i should have payed you to go to the ball...” you quietly said

but you looked at him when you heard him sobbing softly

“Y/N, you are the first person i’ve ever fallen for. i’ve been with plenty of people, and no one had ever make me fall like this. i don’t know why am i even crying in front of you, all i know is that i really, really like you”

your eyes were wider than the pacific ocean

HWANG HYUNJIN

HWANG HYUNJIN LIKED YOU BACK??????

LIKE,,,,, FORREAL?????

“i know you probably still hate me but please... if you at least gave me a chance for still being friends...”

“hyunjin”

GO AHEAD GURL

“what?” he stopped sobbing

“hyunjin, i like you too”

you didn’t even know what was happening, but you knew your mouth kept talking

“wait, you do???”

“hyunjin, i- i was avoiding you because i didn’t want to fall harder”

you were still malfunctioning

then you saw him getting closer to you

“can i,, like,,, kiss you?”

WHAT THE FUCK Y/N YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO SAY THAT

but his lips looked so soft HHHHHHhHhhhhhhHHhHHHHHhhhHH

he didn’t answer you

well at least not verbally

boi just WENT FOR IT

you thought you wouldn’t mind if you died there

his lips were even softer than they looked

was that like paradise felt?

but then,,,

“WELL GUYS I GUESS YOU TWO MADE UP HAHA COOL”

you two separated immediatly

“RYUJIN WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU”

you, alias, tomato 1 said

“well i guess you two have to look for some clothes for the ball because there are only three days left, so go make out in another place but not in the porch. i don’t want to see hyunjin eating your face when i get home”

hyunjin, alias, tomato 2 intensified

“just,,, leave okay?”

you two lovebirds went for a walk, without a specific direction

you couldn’t be any more embarrassed

“can i call you my girlfriend?” he said

“i- yes”

THEN HE HELD YOUR HAND (ㄒoㄒ)

can you two get any cuter omg

“let’s go to the mall to look for some fancy clothes for my cute girlfriend and me and then make out when we get back”

“ ?????? HYUNJIN HHHHHHHHH STOP”

“n e v e r”

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

The Devil’s Daughter: Prologue

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin​

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (soon), The Winter Soldier X Reader, Bucky & Reader, Natasha & Reader

Summary: Born to a Head of Hydra, you’re groomed from a young age to be the kind of leader the organization desires. Only time will tell if true monsters are born or bred. 

Warnings: Literally all of them. 18+ only and please read with caution if you’re triggered by violence of any nature. 

A/N: I talked about this fic for the first time almost a year ago. Then again a couple of months ago. A lot of you were excited for a super dark fic but I still had to sit with it. Then, as always, @wonderlandmind4​ whipped my ass into shape and here it finally is. 

I haven’t detailed out the TWs because, honestly there are a lot. This is a violent dark world as we’re deep into Hydra. The series, even this prologue, has plenty of moments of softness or where the good side of humanity shows - but again, Hydra. So please be mindful.

Also, this is a reader fic but she’s done a little different. I won’t say much more than that but I’m interested to see what y’all think. 

TAGS ARE OPEN

You’re eight years old. Your mother’s sobs snake through your open bedroom door - Mummy would always leave it cracked for you. Papa though... you can hear his hand strike Mummy’s face even in your upstairs room. 

“Please. Eric,” she begs through her sobs. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Papa growls. She always makes him so angry…

Her scream feels like glass shattering in your chest. You don’t know why you run from your room, why your small feet pound down the stairs. You do know he’ll be furious with you, somehow that doesn’t matter. 

“No Papa!” You scream as loud as your tiny lungs can manage, placing yourself squarely between him and your mother. 

His eyes sear into your matching pair. Rage and hatred so hot you think you may combust, a word you’d recently learned - Mummy had been proud when you told her about it. You’re afraid… But you won’t move. Instead, you lift your chin higher, will your back straighter.

“No baby,” Mummy’s trembling hand on your shoulder feels like a burden rather than a comfort. “Go back-”

“Catherine,” Papa lowers his hand, his expression shifting. 

“Eric, she’s just-”

“Was I speaking to you?” His tone isn’t red hot any longer, it’s cool as ice. A shiver crawls up your spine. 

“No I… I just…” 

“Come here, Catherine,” he opens his big palm and smiles at you, that warm Papa smile that makes you think of holidays and tickle fights. You step toward him, your mother’s hand limply slipping from your shoulder. He envelopes your small hand in his own and turns you to face Mummy. 

She seems to shrink, hands rising to hide her face. “Don’t.” Papa orders in a smooth tone. Immediately she obeys, eyes glued to the marble floor. 

“I want you to look at her Catherine.” You do… but… it’s just Mummy. Hurt and crying and scared, you don’t like it. After a moment you look away. 

“No. Look at her.” You know it’s not a suggestion. Slowly you force your eyes back to her cowering form. The moment drags on long enough for you to name all the colors in the bruises in your head. 

“What do you see?”

Confused you turn to Papa, “Mummy?”

“That’s who you see. What do you see?” Looking back at her you squint your eyes a little trying to see something else, like those funny books where you see different things when you shift your focus. No matter how hard you try though the image is the same. 

“What do we have no use for, Catherine?”

Oh… 

“Weakness.” That’s why Papa would never crack your door to let the light in. Why there was no checking for monsters under the bed or being afraid of spiders. Hydra had no use for weakness. 

“Exactly. This is weakness. Are you weak, Catherine?” At this your mother’s eyes shoot up, burning hot enough to rival Papa’s earlier look. 

“No.” You know the right word even if you don’t know if it’s the truth.

“And what will you do to prove that child?” You look up to your father’s face for understanding.

“I… anything, Papa.” When his eyes meet yours, a smile lifting his lips you feel afraid of him, truly afraid, for the first time in your short life. 

“Good,” he nods toward your mother, “hit her.” The words are said as if they’re nothing as if he told you to eat your broccoli or drink your milk…

“Wha-”

“You said anything,” there’s a sinister rumble in his voice. Yeah, you did but… you look to Mummy hoping she’ll help you understand but her eyes are on the floor once more. 

“Catherine,” Papa grabs your chin turning your face to him, “someone who cannot uphold their word is worse than weak, they’re a coward. You have a chance to prove yourself here and now. Are you weak? Are you a coward? Or are you worthy of being a daughter of Hydra?” 

Your hands curl into small fists, “I am not a coward,” even you knew that was a very bad thing to be. 

“Prove it. Show me how we treat weakness.”

Maybe it’s your father’s steady gaze, your mother’s unwillingness to look at you, or perhaps this darkness always lived in your bones, just waiting to come out. Regardless of the root of it, you take a step toward your Mummy, the woman who left your door cracked and cut your crusts off when Papa wasn’t looking, the woman who kissed your scabby knees and dried your tears… 

You raise your fists… And you hit her. Over and over again with your ineffective child’s fists, you reinforce bruises from your father. 

Your mother… does nothing. 

-

You’re eleven and your mother flips the light on in your room, waking you. Groaning you try to hide your face in your pillow.

“Baby,” her soft voice whispers. “Wake up,” she shakes you gently. 

“What, Mother?!” You snap. She hadn’t been Mummy since that night…

She’s used to the tone you take with her by now and isn’t the least bit phased. “Something’s come up. We need to go.”

You sit up and glare at her, “Go where?”

“The airstrip.” She’s grabbing your clothes, stuffing them into a bag. 

“Why?”

Her eyes settle steadily on you, “Your Papa’s orders. Would you like to call him and ask-”

“No,” you’re immediately up and changing. She should have just led  with it being Papa’s orders. Stupid as always. 

You make it to the driveway before you pause.

“Where’s Mason?” Your driver was nowhere to be seen. If Papa wasn’t here he always wanted Mason to be escorting you both for protection, he’d been very clear about that. 

Mother slams the trunk shut. “He said just us.” She doesn’t look at you. “Get in.”

You do, but doubt rises. She was up to something, you could feel it. As you head in the opposite direction of your usual airstrip your doubt turns to certainty. 

Looking at your Mother you note her rapid breathing, her white knuckles, the pulse thrumming in her neck. Fear. Weakness. 

“What exactly are we doing, Mother?”

Silence hangs for a few minutes before she speaks. “You deserve better than this Catherine. I should have done this years ago… should-”

“Papa doesn’t know where we’re going does he?” Your fingers fiddle the pager in your pocket. Mother says nothing. “Does he?” Your tone is the same cold one Papa uses when he asks something he knows the answer to. Pride tingles in you just a touch at the realization. 

“No. Listen to me, baby,” her eyes flit to you, holding more determination than you’ve ever seen in them. “I know this is hard for you to understand but… your Papa… he’s a bad man.”

Papa wasn’t bad. He was strong and brave and honest. All the things you wouldn’t expect her to understand. The weak always misunderstand strength, that’s what he told you. You don’t argue though. Your index finger presses the buttons. Papa would find you and sort this all out. 

“We-Hydra… this isn’t right.” She says nothing else. 

A half-hour passes before you pull into an old overgrown airstrip. There’s a small single-engine plane waiting, though there’s no one else in sight. Mother pulls up beside it and kills the engine. 

She gets out but you don’t move. When your door opens you don’t even react as her hands grab yours, your eyes glued on the dash. 

��Look at me, Kitty.”

“My name is Catherine.” You say through clenched teeth. Who did she think she was, trying to take you from Papa…

“Look at me.” Her tone is steely, it surprises you enough to cause you to jump a bit. 

You turn to her. She’s kneeling on the ground by your door, looking up at you. It makes you think of that night Papa made you hit her. 

“I’m sorry, Catherine.” Your brows knit in confusion. “I’m sorry I let him make you think that being kind is being weak, that love is weakness. It isn’t.” Her trembling hands cup your small face. 

“I love you more than anything in this world, that’s the only way I’ve made it through this. I don’t expect you to understand this now but when you’re away from all this evil you’ll learn. We’re going to be happy, baby. Please, please just come with me.” 

Something flutters in your chest. It’s not the disdain you’ve grown used to feeling for her nor is it anger. It’s the feeling you still get sometimes when she makes your favorite dinner or lets you stay up reading or… when he hits her… maybe… she was right. 

“Mum…” 

A bright smile bursts across her face. “It’s ok to be scared, baby. We can be scared together. We have to go now though.”

You glance at the plane, “Can you fly that?”

You’ve never seen this side to your Mother. “There’s so much you don’t know about me, Kitty,” with a wink she stands and steps aside to let you get out. 

No sooner do you than the sound of screeching tires hit your ears. Her eyes meet yours, terror filling them. 

“Run!” She grabs your hand and drags you to the plane. 

Regret squeezes your heart tight, “I’m sorry, Mummy…”

She offers you a weak smile as she flips switches to start the plane’s engine. “It’s ok. I love you, ok?”

“I… I love you.” 

The plane starts to jerk forward. “Get in the back and buckle up, Catherine. Now.” Her eyes are glued forward. 

You do as she says, stiffly sitting in a seat, holding your breath, unable to sort through the storm in your mind. 

It was true you realize, with unsettling certainty, you loved her. She was your Mum. Always gentle with you even when you weren’t the same back. But Papa… did you love him or fear him? Did you want to run from him? Was she right? Nothing made sense. 

“Buckle,” she barks glancing back at you. Automatically your hands move to lock in the seatbelt. 

The engines roar to life causing the old plane to shudder. Suddenly it jerks forward and you feel a bit of your fear slip away. If you were moving you could get away, maybe not forever but at least until Papa had time to cool off. 

Gunshots ring out and you scream, hating yourself for it. 

“Get on the floor, Kitty!” Mum yells back at you. 

You fumble with the belt but free yourself after a moment, falling to the floor. More shots ping against the metal but you can still feel the planes forward motion. As long as you could keep- A small explosion at the front of the plane draws out another scream. 

Smoke fills the cabin and you cough, feeling the plane stop. You should have known better than to ever hope. 

“Mum!” You cry out, smoke stinging your eyes. She says nothing, but you suddenly feel her arms wrap around you. Despite the smoke, you force your eyes open to look at her. Her face is covered in soot, red snakes down the side of her face, and tears carve a path under her eyes - from the smoke or sadness, you can’t know. 

“Always remember that I love you. Always remember that you are more than this. Always remember that evil won’t always win.” She pauses, coughing. “Promise me, you won’t ever forget, my girl.”

“Mummy,” you say, your small voice cracking. 

“Promise me,” there is power in her words now. 

“I promise.” 

“You’ll be better than all of them as long as you remember. I swear it.” She wastes no time after that. Her hands, sure and strong pull you toward the door, forcing it open just as you see flames begin to lick into the cabin. 

Some part of you knew what would play out as soon as you both made it outside. You knew you must have known. Even so… It all shocks you. 

Coughing and gasping for fresh air Mum drops you onto the ground as gently as she can. Hands immediately pull you away from the plane, you know these hands. Papa. 

There’s a small grunt from behind you as you know someone else pulls Mum from the plane too. Desperately you try to turn to her, needing to see, but Papa holds you steady, inspecting you. 

“Are you hurt?” He asks you. You don’t know if you hear more concern or anger in his tone. You shake your head no, eyes finally opening fully. 

His eyes are a dark green storm. There is no love in them, no compassion. 

It hits you then that he doesn’t care if you’re hurt because he loves you because you’re his daughter. He cares because you are his. His concern was nothing more than an owner wanting to protect his property. Something in you goes dark at this realization. 

He nods, gripping your upper arm so hard you know bruises will be there come morning and drags you across the tarmac. From the corner of your eye, you can see Mason with Mum in a chokehold, bringing her in the same direction. 

“Here,” Papa… no, Eric - he was no Father and certainly no Papa - says in an emotionless tone. 

Mason throws Mum to the ground in front of him. She falls on all fours into the dirt, coughing and gasping for air. Before you can think of going to her Eric throws you into the dirt beside her. You try to catch yourself, the heels of your palms skidding on the rough earth, stinging with pain. Mum throws herself around you immediately, your back to her chest. 

“Lie,” she whispers so low in your ear that you almost miss it. You nod, wanting her to know you heard, even if you don’t understand. 

Any breath she’d managed to catch all gushes from her as the sound of a boot crashing into her ribs sends you both tumbling over. She doesn’t even make a sound of pain you notice. 

Guilt floods you. All this time you thought she was weak. No one who was weak could take the beatings she did and continue to rise up, day after day. No one who was weak would have taken this chance or even still had the willpower to do so. Your mother was the strongest person you knew. 

Her arms release you, “Get behind me, Kitty.” You do as she says, crawling behind her legs as she rises up. 

“Catherine,” Eric barks, “stand up.” Tentatively you glance up at your mother’s defiant form and rise, standing just behind her.

“Come here,” he snarls. Mum grabs your arm as your feet move to obey. 

“Do not think of touching her,” Mum’s tone drips with rage. 

With a few long strides, Eric closes the space between you. He grips Mum’s chin, forcing her to look up at him. 

“And what will you do to stop me?”

You don’t understand the slow smile that crawls across your mother’s face but there’s something sinister in it. 

“Did you forget, husband?” She asks, her tone honeyed. In a flash she has him on the ground, a garrote appearing from nowhere, almost managing to slit his throat but he stops the cut with his hands, blood pouring from the wounds. 

“You wanted to marry a Spider,” she growls these confusing words. 

“Kitty,” you meet your mother’s ferocious gaze, “run.” 

You do, without hesitation. Past the burning plane you make for the fence, knowing you can scale it, just wanting to do right by your Mum - even if it was only this once. Just as your small deft fingers grip the wire, rough hands grip you, pulling you down. 

With all your might you try and hold on. When you’re forced to release you turn feral, kicking, screaming, biting, clawing, anything you can muster but Mason doesn’t loosen his grip. Bit by bit he drags you back to where Eric and Mum wait. 

For an instant you still, seeing Mum crumpled on the ground. She’d had the upper hand how… It didn’t matter, she said run. You begin to fight once more, desperate and wild. 

“Catherine,” Eric sighs, almost bored. “Please, you’re embarrassing yourself.” 

You’d almost never disobeyed this man. Even at only eleven, you realize it was because you were so scared of him, of what he could do to you. Right now though, you feel possessed. You don’t care. 

When he grips your chin to look at him, fingers sticky with his blood, you spit in his face with all the force your mouth can muster. You don’t know why. But it felt so good, powerful. 

Any surge of pride you felt flees when the back of his hand cracks across your cheek so hard you see spots. Mason drops you to the ground dazed. He’d never struck you, not like that. 

“Do you think that was brave, Catherine?” That cold tone making you shiver as he tilts your face up. You say nothing, just meet his eyes refusing to waver. A moment of rage flares across his features, warping them, he hits you again sending you tumbling to the side. 

“No!” Mum croaks from behind. 

Eric gently kicks you, rolling you onto your back so you’re staring up at him. If feels like you’re looking at a stranger, a monster that had been hiding in plain sight for so long. 

His scuffed wingtip rests lightly on your throat. Pointlessly you grip his shoe, trying to keep him from crushing your windpipe. 

“Stop this!” Mum screams. You try to look at her but the pressure increases. 

“It wasn’t brave. It was stupid. There’s a fine line between the two.” He stares at you as though you’re a bug and not his daughter. “Your mother thinks she was being brave. This is where dangerous miscalculations such as that land you - beneath the boot of those worthy of bravery.” He hovers for a beat more before lifting his foot. 

You roll over on all fours, coughing and gasping to fill your lungs with air. 

“Do you understand, Catherine?” You don’t answer, don’t look at him, just try to breathe. He sighs, “You will.” 

He grips you by your hair pulling you to your feet. Still, you scrabble against his hold, trying to break free. His free arm wraps around your torso, holding you flush against him. The fingers in your hair holding your head in a tight forward-facing position. 

“Look at her, Catherine.” You do. She’s bloody, battered, but in her eyes, there is still defiance. 

“It’s gonna be ok, baby,” she says in a hoarse voice. 

He releases you and nods to Mason. He steps over handing something you can’t quite see to your would-be father. You stay frozen in place staring at Mum, unsure of what to do. 

Grabbing your hand, Eric forces something metal and heavy into it. Even though you know what it is - have been taught how to use one, how to disassemble it, what the parts are called - you don’t want to acknowledge it. Maybe this is a bad dream and you’ll wake up if you just don’t look. 

Mum’s lips are moving, if there are words coming you don’t hear them. But you think you know what she’s mouthing, I love you. It’s ok. I love you. 

“Please,” the sob burbles from your lips. “Please, no.” 

“What do we have no use for, Catherine?” 

“Please, pa-papa. Please.” Hard metal presses against the back of your skull. Your heart which had been rabbiting in your chest stills. 

Fear flashes across Mum’s features before melting into a warm smile. She nods, mouthing, It’s ok, once more. 

“No.” 

The hammer behind you clicks back.

“If you do not value your life over that of this scum I have no use for you. Chose Catherine. Weakness, or strength.” You pull the hammer back on the small gun. 

Knowing he may kill you if you say the words out loud you move your lips to make two words clear, So sorry. 

“I love you, always.” 

They’re the last thing you hear before you pull the trigger.  

-

You’re 15. The person beneath your fists is starting to resemble a pile of minced lamb rather than the girl she is. Absently, you wonder if your mother had to do this.

Lifting her head in your hands you slam it against the ground until the crunch hits your ears. Standing you step away, turning your back on the lifeless body.

Madam B meets your eyes, giving an approving nod before turning and striding out of the room, effectively dismissing you and the only other girl left. 

“I think you fractured that one,” Natalia gestures to your left hand. “You’re not going to be able to get that tight enough on your own.” 

Ignoring her you try to get the wrap to stay in just the right spot but your left fingers aren’t quite following your commands. 

“Cat, just give it to me,” Natalia rips the bandages from your shaking hand. 

As she winds the stretchy fabric around your hand she glances up at your cheek, keen green eyes studying you. Feeling exposed you turn away. 

“Didn’t see Irina get you in the face. Been too long for it to be from the last time-”

“Let it go, Nat,” you push past her as soon as she’s done, pulling your ballet flats from your locker. Your two-month stints here were something of a refuge, you didn’t want to be reminded of your life was outside of this. 

“Stubborn ass,” she grumbles in Russian. 

“You’re one to talk,” you toss back. 

The two months pass too quickly, as they always do. You count down the days until you can return. The Red Room was better than the hell of home - of him. There you were strong, you were feared, you were formidable. Under your father’s roof, you were nothing. 

Two more months and you return. Per the schedule, you report directly to ballet. 

When the fourth girl crumples around hour five, Natalia looks to you, a smug expression on her face. Neither of you ever faltered. Since the age of 11, the two of you had always been the last ones standing, the victors, the marble ones.

Not today though. 

Her smug expression shifts to concern when she sees the grimace on your features. Each movement causes your body to scream, each breath a struggle. You know you’re going to drop sooner rather than later.

Sure enough, within the hour you hit the floor. 

“Get up,” Madame B barks. “Up!” The cane stings across your spine. You try but your legs falter. 

“I-I can’t.” Another lash. 

“Then you crawl out of here, and I do not see you stand for the rest of the day.” Two more lashes. “Go!”

You’re too tired to feel shame as you crawl on hands and knees from the room and down the hall to the lockers. Nor is Madam B’s order to not stand a hard one to follow, even as you shed your clothes and make your way to the showers. 

The water is so hot it almost stings but you relish the way it feels on your body, forcing warmth into the places that thrum with pain. You sit with the water at your back, your head to your knees until you hear someone else enter. 

It doesn’t really matter who it is, you intend to sit here until they make you leave but you look up anyway, shocked at who you see. 

“Natalia, what the hell?!” There was no way she broke, no reason for her to be here. 

“What?” She shrugs, wiping a bit of blood from the corner of her mouth. “It was boring without you.” 

For some reason, this makes emotion bubble up in you. Immediately you press your face into your knees again to keep from crying. Such childish nonsense. 

Natalia lays her hand on your wet hair. Slowly you swallow the lump in your throat and look up into her face. Sometimes, it was hard to study her - it would be easy to take the two of you for sisters, though you wondered if it was looks or demeanor that cast that illusion - right now was such a time because her face showed concern you couldn’t bother to feel for yourself. It was as though a different you, from another life, was looking at this version with pitty. You hated it. 

“Get off me,” you push her back and uncurl your body to scoot into the cold tile wall. Natalia just sits on the wet tile in her ballet gear, eyes glued to your torso, a slow rage building in her. When she speaks, her green eyes are almost black. 

“Who did this?” She doesn’t bother to hide her accent, the English words coming with a distinctly Russian lilt. 

Protectively you cover yourself as best you can, hiding the dark purple bruises blossoming across your right ribcage that had made it so hard to breathe earlier and angling your legs to shield the fingerprint bruises peppering your thighs. You feel so small. 

“Catherine…” You ignore her, willing her to go away. The Red Room was the place you didn’t have to think about him.

“It was him, wasn’t it? Your father?” Natalia’s voice is a low rumble. 

“Eric,” you correct her. You still called him Papa to his face - the one time you didn’t you hadn’t been able to move for a couple of days after - but you couldn’t bear to allow her to think of him as your father. 

She turns her head and spits before asking, “Why do you let him do this to you?” You turn a wicked glare on her but she doesn’t flinch. “I’ve seen you kill a grown man with your bare hands, Cat. You’re like me! You’re marble. If a man is foolish enough to strike us he should come away bloody.” 

“The Devil doesn’t bleed,” you say your tone flat. 

“The Devil is just a man,” she says, sliding down the wall beside you, “and all men bleed.” 

You let her wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you in. Slowly you sink down until your head rests in her lap. She runs her fingers through your hair, a soothing gesture, a gentle gesture. It’s too much. Silently you begin to cry. 

A few more girls come and go. None say anything and none linger. You two were not the first to breakdown in the showers and you wouldn’t be the last. When the last of them are gone Natalia speaks again. 

“I’ll graduate soon.” You knew this, though the thought fills you with dread. Would you still come even after Nat and the others graduated? Would you graduate the same? You doubted it. 

She takes a deep breath before continuing, “When I do, I’ll come for you.”

“And do what?” You scoff. 

“We’ll figure it out. He can’t-”

“He can,” you cut her off. “He can do anything he damn well pleases.”

“He’s not god, Cat. Your fa- Eric isn’t-”

“You’re right,” you sit up and look at her. “He isn’t god. He’s the Devil, and you have no idea just how much power he-”

“You could tell me.” She’d asked before, years ago, but you told her you never wanted to talk about your life outside this place. Most of the time she honored that request. 

“He’s got enough pull that he can treat the Red Room like a boarding school, that should tell you enough.” 

She looks away, shaking her head, a scowl etched on her face. 

The door slams open. You both exchange a look, knowing it shouldn’t be another trainee. 

“Get up!” A rough Russian voice barks. Both of you move instantly to obey, the movement sends pain shooting through your bruised ribs and you double over. Natalia turns to you. 

“Eyes front!” Another voice commands. “Move out.” Natalia begins to move but you can’t manage it, still trying to force your lungs to work. The man tilts your chin up with the butt of his rifle. 

“Is the little princess deaf?” His hand cracks across your cheek. He doesn’t hit near as hard as Eric, you remain standing. “I said move.” Not wanting to risk a strike with that rifle you comply and head out of the locker room naked as a newborn. 

Madame B waits for you both in the training room, two sets of gear on the ground before her. She eyes you with clear disdain as she gestures to the gear. 

“You have ten minutes,” she turns on her heel and floats from the room. 

Quickly you get into the heavy winter tactical suits. Neither of you speaks as you take stock of the simple provisions and weapons in the duffel. Each of you grabs a knife and a flashlight. She takes what looks like a poncho in a little plastic pouch and you take a space blanket. There is little food but you split it evenly between you, filling your pants pockets, unsure if they’ll be taking the bag from you. By the time you’re done you hear the foots steps of Madame B’s return. 

“They’re waiting out front. Go.” You grab the duffel, expecting her to stop you. When she doesn’t you both march out in silence. 

The helicopter ride is frigid, short, and utterly silent. When you finally land it’s on the vast frozen tundra, twilight making everything seem alien. 

“Get out. Whoever makes it back moves on.” That’s all you’re told before the copter lifts up and away, leaving you and Natalia standing in a wasteland. 

The area around you for miles is flat, frozen, nothing. Far, far, in the distance, you think you spot a copse of trees. Clearly, that will be your best bet for now, not that it mattered much - it was clear that this wasn’t something you were both meant to walk away from. 

“I wondered why they never made us fight. I just thought they saw no point. But this... this is worse.” You look over your shoulder, her bangs whip in the wind as she stares into nothing. 

“Come on,” you say shouldering the bag. “We can make it to those trees before it gets too dark.”

The trees you saw are sad scraggly things that provide little to no shelter from the howling winds. Still, you both manage to fashion a bit of a break from bits you find on the ground and hacking at low branches. Huddling close behind your sorry shelter you assess your supplies - which included a map, marking your location. 

To make it back to the Red Room on foot would take at least a week and a half if not two weeks. Even if you closely rationed your supplies you’d run out in half that time - there was enough for one of you. 

“When dawn comes, you go,” you tell her after you realize. “Take it all and you should make it ok.”

“What?!” Natalia stares at you in horror. “No! There’s some way, we’ll figure it-”

“Nat,” you sigh, “there isn’t another way. Clearly only one of us is supposed to make it back and I’m already struggling. You have a chance to-”

“I’m not doing it.” The fierce determination in her gaze reminded you of a night years before and another impossible choice. Quickly you slam the door on the memory. 

“You have to. I can’t live with myself if you don’t make-”

“So I’m supposed to live with it?!”

You can’t help but smile, “I won’t die out here, Natalia.” 

“I’m pretty sure if I leave you in the goddamn tundra with no food or supplies you’ll-”

“He won’t let me die.” You sigh, “It would be a wasted investment.” You weren’t sure how keen you’d be on living when he found out you’d lost, let her live, and had to be rescued but you didn’t care. Natalia was your friend, the only real friend you’d ever had, and you would not let her die. 

“There’s likely a tracker on these clothes somewhere. Once I don’t move for long enough someone will come for me.” She studies you quietly. “You’ll make it back, graduate, and be fine.”

“No,” she says matter of factly, settling back down beside you. 

“Excuse me?”

“Net. Ora. Non. Nein. Méiyǒu-” 

“I get it,” you cut her off before the dead languages start coming up. “I assume you have an alternative plan?”

“Of course I do,” she smirks. That was Natalia, clever as a fox.

“If they will come for you there’s no need for me to waste my precious energy and trek all the way back. I wait and they take me too. Easy.”

“Except, they may not be taking me back to the Red Room, if my father-”

“And if he shows up I can prove to you that even the Devil bleeds. I see no losing here.”

She was wrong about that but it wasn’t the worst idea. You weigh the possibilities in your mind. 

Eric was not going to bother to come to this desolate local to pick you up, even in the helicopter. Likely he’d send someone for you, two to four people at most, one likely a medic. You also can’t imagine they’d be too heavily armed since they were assuming they’d be retrieving a half-dead girl. This could work.

“We may have to put up a bit of a fight,” you tell her. 

Her smile broadens, “I hope so.”

It takes them three days. 

To say you were both comfortable in that time wouldn’t be accurate but it honestly could have been worse. Other than the harsh elements it was almost like a holiday or like the sleepovers you’d seen girls have in movies. You ate, talked, shared a bit - though you never told her about your mother or Hydra or anything that may get her killed. When you heard the grumble of quads you were a shade disappointed. 

Instead of meeting the crew head on you wait where you’ve been camping. Forcing them to come to you. The team speaks loudly, unconcerned about who may be listening. Looking at Natalia you hold up four fingers. She nods in agreement. 

“Catherine?” A woman calls into the trees. “Are you able to hear me?”

“Over here,” you say, rising from your crouch. The woman studies you, clearly surprised to see you in such good nick. 

“We’ve been sent to collect you.” 

“Excellent,” you say in an unbothered tone. “We’ve been waiting for someone to come.” Natalia rises up beside you. The woman glances back to the two men with her - the fourth must be with the quads. They freeze as Natalia and you move forward.  

“Is there some kind of problem?” You ask as the two men fan out. 

“Not for long,” she says cooly. 

Natalia takes the man to the left. He’s surprised by her speed and in moments blood gouts from his neck. The woman raises her gun only to find your own knife planted in her temple before you rush the second man. 

He fires off a shot at Natalia, she dodges as you sweep his legs from under him. With his focus now on you shes able to come at him from behind. He rights himself, pivoting to attack her but you land a hard blow to his chest - clearly, they will not risk causing you harm. As he gasps she’s on him, her thighs locked around his neck and within seconds a blade protrudes from his eye. 

She jumps from him before he collapses and plucks the weapons from his body like a strange little carrion bird. You do the same to the woman before you both move to the first man. 

Peeking from the copse you see the fourth person, a medic as you expected, prepping a few things in a small trailer behind one of the quads, ears covered by large muffs. When he sees the two of you walk out, a little bloody and armed he staggers back before pulling a gun. 

“Don’t,” you say on a sigh. “Unless you’d like to join the others back there.”

“You should be-”

“Half-dead,” you cut him off, “I know. Can we skip to where you were supposed to transport me?” He looks between you both and drops his weapon. 

“Back to the Red Room.” Your eyes narrow as you take aim. His hands shoot up, “I swear it! It was the closest place we could triage you before transporting you home. We thought you’d be severely injured.” You lower your weapon and the man relaxes. 

You nod, “Toss your gun.” He does so, Natalia grabs it, tucking it into her waistband. “You wait two hours before you head back and-”

“Knock me unconscious at least…” He looks mildly ashamed. “If they know I let you go…” Well, he wasn’t wrong. You nod to Natalia and she heads toward him as you keep him in your sights. 

“One wrong move-”

“No tricks. I at least have a chance of staying alive this way.”

He goes down fast. Maybe someone would come for him and the others, or maybe they’d leave them to rot and he could make his way wherever. Either way, you had little hope for the man.  

Neither of you under the illusion that you could run, you leave him the medical quad and double up on the other. Whatever waited for you at the Red Room you’d handle. 

It takes several hours to get back. Seeing the terrain you shuddered to think of Natalia making the journey alone. 

Madam B stood in front of the manor house, arms crossed. When you and Natalia dismount she takes you in. You almost think you see her upper lip twitch, in a smile or disgust you couldn’t know. After exchanging a look you both follow her inside. 

She leads you to the sparring room, a place where you’d taken more than a handful of lives over the last few years. This didn’t bode well. Two left and only one should have returned. There was no way they’d expect you two to fight to the death now…

You’re distracted, trying to work out the logistics, you don’t clock the shadows moving. Natalia does. Pushing you to the ground she takes a hard blow to her abdomen. She staggers and you hop up grabbing and pivoting her away.

The assailant’s next blow grazes your shoulder. As they bring their arm back you grab it, yanking them off balance. Natalia, recovered, clocks them hard in the jaw, sending them back. You advance with a punishing kick to the solar plexus and they stay down. 

 There’s no time to think. Five other figures emerge from the shadows. 

All you can think about is keeping her alive. It makes every movement, every choice, easy. Whatever it took. 

Natalia and you had been training together since you were 11, you knew the other’s flow as well as your own, could read her body language like a well-worn book. Yes, you were outnumbered but it didn’t matter. Like marble dancers, you perform a brutal ballet until you’re the last two standing. 

In the back corner, Madame B watched, her stern expression lit by the single bulb that hovered in the space. The lights flare up. Back to back, you both blink rapidly trying to adjust. 

“That was lovely,” Madam B says, her face a mask of contempt. She pulls a gun from her waistband, “But only one can-”

Earlier, guns would have been too risky, you could have shot Natalia. Now though, you had a clear sight. In a flash, you pull out the pistol you’d taken from the woman earlier, and shoot the gun from Madam B’s grasp. 

“Enough,” you growl. 

“You insolent little-”

“Enough!” You can feel Natalia tense behind you. “The game is over. We both returned. It’s done.” 

“So the little princess thinks she can give orders now?” She spits. “You’ll never be a Widow.” 

You hadn’t been watching her hands. Bad mistake. A knife materializes from nowhere and buries itself in your thigh. The instant your aim falters she comes for you. 

Her strikes are quick and calculated, focusing on where she must have seen your bruises the other day sending waves of fresh pain through you. In nothing more than a few beats you’re sure you feel a rib snap. You cry out, the sensation of the bone under your skin awful. 

Natalia won’t be able to fight back against Madam B, you knew that. It was part of the conditioning the girls underwent, it was how they were kept in line. There was just you and this woman who, you suspected, didn’t give a damn if you died. 

The hatred that pours from her feels as though it’s been brewing for some time. Absently, as she pummels your body, breaking it methodically, masterfully even, you wonder what you’d done to make her feel this intensely. You’d been a good student, obedient, vicious, strong…

Suddenly she’s pulled back. You don’t even look just take the reprieve to try and breathe through the pain, your rib throbbing with each shallow breath you manage. Finally, you pull your focus to the scuffle happening a few feet away from you. 

Natalia…

You stare at her as she headbutts Madam B, sending blood gushing down the woman’s usually pristine features. Despite the successful blow, Natalia looks like she’s going to vomit, her expression pained. 

Looking to the left you see the gun you’d dropped. 

Willing your shaky hands to still, forcing a breath, you aim and fire. 

The stillness that follows is terrifying. You don’t dare look at Natalia, too scared the bullet hit her and not Madam B. Then you see the red bloom on the woman’s right hip. A painful breath escapes you in relief. 

Standing on legs you force to be steady you stalk toward them, pushing Natalia behind you. Madam B falters, then falls, gripping her wound. Her cold eyes land on Natalia. 

“You’re going to pay for that you little whelp.” Gripping the barrel of the gun you slam the butt across her face sending her sprawling. 

Something dark slithers to the surface. You feel it spread, swelling to fill your chest, slowing your heart rate to a steady thrum, clearing your vision to something clear and terrifying. 

Madam B tries to gather hear bearings lifting herself up on one arm. Before she gets far you kick her hard in the ribs, not even feeling the screaming pain in your own now. Your boot rests against her long slender neck, applying just a bit of pressure, gun aimed at her forehead. 

“She will pay for nothing. Are we clear?” Your voice is calm, almost bored. 

“You do not-”

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.” Your foot presses harder causing her to cough. 

“Natalia will face no repercussions for what has happened here or on your misguided test. She followed my orders,” it was a lie but you knew it would have the proper effect, “so if you’d like to punish someone that would be me. Though,” a bit more pressure, “I don’t think you hold a high enough rank to truly enact any kind of punishment.” 

“You little cunt,” she hisses. 

“How tasteless Madam, I expected a higher caliber of insult from you.” Just a bit more pressure and she begins to squirm despite the gun leveled at her. “I’ll ask once more, are we clear?”

“Yes!” She rasps, eyes wide. 

“Fantastic!” A slow sinister smile crawls over your face as you remove your boot from her throat. She sucks in a breath and moves to sit up, your boot meets her throat once more resting lightly. 

“To be clear. If I find out any action has been taken against Natalia, I will come and personally skin you alive until you beg me to end your miserable life.” Her expression was all the answer you needed. You step back and she rises slowly, never taking her eyes off of you. 

Slow clapping comes from the doorway. Madam B’s posture straightens despite her injuries. You and Natalia turn to see the source. When you do your blood runs cold. 

“Behind me, Nat,” you whisper as Eric comes into view. 

“That was a spectacular performance my darling!” His green eyes are crinkled with what seems to be a genuine smile. There’s nothing of the devil inside showing now. In his well-tailored navy suit and cream shoes, he looks like any well-heeled London businessman. 

Pride rolls off of him in waves and you curse the little flutter your stomach gives. You hate the part of you that still, despite everything, wants to please him. 

“Don’t you think that was exceptional, B?” He bellows laying his hands on your shoulders. 

“Of course, sir.” 

“Thank you, Papa.” He whips a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes a bit of blood from your face. Turning you to face the others he rests an arm across your shoulders holding you close. Your skin crawls. 

“I have to admit, B, you haven’t slowed much at all.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Clayton.”

“Please, B, Eric is just fine.” You feel rather than see his gaze land on Natalia. Tension floods your body. 

“And you,” he walks forward a few steps, bringing you with him. “You were clearly born for this. Just outstanding. I have no doubt you’ll serve Catherine well in the future.” Desperately you beg Natalia to look at you, to understand how sorry you are, you’d never have her serve you never-

“Thank you, sir,” she bows her head slightly. When she meets your eyes there are so many questions you can’t answer. 

“Sadly, we have to cut this short. I have an early meeting. Thank you, Natalia, you’ve done so well.” 

“Yes,” you hold her gaze, “thank you.” 

“Always,” she nods. 

Eric turns you both away, leading you out. In spite of yourself, you lean into him for support, the adrenaline fading leaving your body aching. 

“Oh, and B,” he turns back. You don’t have to see him to feel the shift, to know the devil was peeking from behind the mask. “If you don’t uphold your agreement with my daughter, you won’t have to bother worrying about her threat. I’ll simply sell you for parts.” 

He doesn’t wait for a response before whisking you out of the house and into the waiting chopper. You never see the Red Room again. 

-

You’re 17 and the sounds from the party downstairs keep you awake even with the door closed. 

Though you weren’t entirely sure what was happening downstairs, the snippets of vile conversation, boisterous male laughter, and the distinct sound of someone in pain made your skin crawl. Even though you’d already scrubbed yourself raw after Eric had left you in your room - telling you he didn’t want to see your face until noon tomorrow - you were tempted to get back in the scalding water. Your burning arms begged you to reconsider, any more scrubbing and you’d likely be a bloody mess, that wouldn’t sit well with, Eric. 

It made you miss the Red Room. Nights there were so quiet, you never worried about who may come into your room or hear things you’d rather forget. It was, despite its purpose, relatively peaceful in the late hours. You hadn’t been back there in years and doubted your return would be welcome if Madam B still presided over the place. 

Finally, you give up any hope of sleep. Settling your headphones over your ears you busy yourself with reading, drawing, some of your lessons. In fact, you complete most of the week’s assignments by 3 am. Only then do you pull your headphones from your ears, listening for any sign of the party. It seemed dead silent. 

Your stomach growls. When Eric had left you, he hadn’t given you time to grab food from the kitchen and none had been sent up. Despite its persistence, you consider ignoring your hunger. But the thought of not eating until the afternoon… 

Silent as a shadow you slip from your bedroom door. Every few feet you pause, listening for any sign of activity below. Hearing nothing you head down the back stairs, furthest from Eric’s master rooms, making sure to avoid the two spots that squeak. 

The kitchen is ransacked and the smell of liquor and cigars hangs heavy in the air. Wrinkling your nose you open the refrigerator slowly, searching for anything you can bring up with you. Grabbing some roast beef, cheese and gingerly picking up a bag of crisps you turn to head back up. A groan coming from the front stair makes you freeze. 

Barely breathing you listen, stealing yourself for Eric to walk in and the hell that would follow. Nothing happens for several moments. Another low groan makes your hair stand on end. This wasn’t Eric.

You don’t know why you set the food down and walk the short distance to the entryway. All you can think is that maybe someone was hurt and maybe you could help. 

The sight that meets your eyes forces you to cover your mouth in order to keep from gasping in horror. 

A man is chained to one of the columns that support the second story landing. The metal links run from the column to a collar around his neck. It’s not long enough for him to lay down so he leans, sitting up, against the plaster - which you note is coated in smears of blood. In fact, the floor is covered with speckles of it and other fluids.

Bile rises in your throat but you force it down. 

Bruises are appearing all over his naked form. “Your turning violet, Violet!” The Willy Wonka line echoes in your head. You almost laugh at remembering a children’s movie in a time like this. Were you hysterical? 

Once more the man makes a pained noise, body shifting. Something on his left side catches the dim light. When you realize what it is, your jaw drops. 

Until this moment you could have convinced yourself that this man had angered Eric in some way, or possibly misstepped - some wayward agent being punished-  but now…

You’d only seen him fleetingly when you were 12. His work was mentioned in the history of Hydra Eric had you read. It had seemed impossible that one person could have done so much and you disliked the thought that you’d been fed a children’s tale. 

“Papa,” you’d been incredulous, “this isn’t real. This Soldier is impossible. I want the real story.” Eric had smiled at that. 

“No? You don’t think he’s real?”

“Of course not!” 

“We’ll see.” The next day he’d brought you to work with him. 

“I have a surprise for you.” Instead of the button that took you to his penthouse office, he hit another and a panel opened revealing many more sub levels. Selecting one the elevator carried you both down down down. 

When the doors opened the harsh fluorescent lights had hurt your eyes for a moment. You weren’t sure you wanted this surprise. 

You seemed to walk forever before he finally reached the right door. Much to your chagrin, it just led to another long hallway. 

Finally, he beamed down at you, “Ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, just wanting to get this over with. 

He opens the final door to a large room with a cage on the other side. In it sat a man. 

“Soldat!” Eric barked. The man jumped to attention, long hair hanging loose and a silver arm on his left side. Your father may as well have just shown you proof of the boogeyman, you’d have been less shocked. 

Now here was that same man, The Fist of Hydra, chained in your foyer. Beaten and broken in a way you understood far too well. 

Slowly his eyes slide open, meeting yours. Your heart lodges in your throat. 

That day, he’d had a mask and goggles on, you’d never even thought of what he looked like. Perhaps you expected just a blank mask, empty eyes, but no. 

Those eyes… They were screaming. 

His tongue flits out, licking dry cracked lips, breaking the spell you’d momentarily been under. Getting your breath and heart rate under control you glance in the direction of Eric’s rooms, hoping he was passed out drunk. 

You hold up a finger to indicate you’d be right back, hoping he even understood, and silently make your way back to the kitchen. This was stupid. So stupid. What was possessing you to fill a glass with water from the pitcher in the fridge, to grab the roast beef and what was left of the bread? Why were you doing this? Even as you make your way back to him you’re berating yourself. 

The Soldier’s eyes track you with unnerving intensity. When you approach his whole body tenses as though he actually feared you. It was almost a comical thought. This man assassinated JFK, why in the hell would he fear you? 

Because you’re Hydra, something in the back of your mind whispers. 

Kneeling an arms reach away you hold out the water. He eyes it warily. Understanding you take a sip before holding it out once more. Now he grips the glass in his flesh hand, drinking deep. When he finishes you hold your hand out for it. He gives it back.

You push the bread and meat toward him, your stomach growling loudly. His head cocks to the side, listening. You forgot how hungry you were. 

He gestures for you to go first, his expression soft. Shrugging you grab a couple of thin slices of meat and a piece of bread, folding it in half you take a massive bite, almost groaning in pleasure at the taste of food. When you swallow he does the same. 

Finishing your half sandwich you pick up the glass, indicating you were getting more water. He nods, making another sandwich. 

In the kitchen, you not only fill the glass but you grab the chocolate digestives too, they were your favorite. And, for good measure, you fill a second glass with milk. Something in your head still screams danger, but you just don’t give a damn. 

When you sit back down, you notice he left you half the meat and bread. You try to get him to take more but he refuses, though he does take the water. This time he drinks slowly as you finish your last two sandwiches. 

As you chew your last bite you notice how his eyes keep falling back to the milk. You smile, setting it between you. Gingerly you coax the biscuit package open, praying it’s not too much noise. It’s a success and you pull three biscuits out, holding them out to him. He takes them, though, he doesn’t eat them. 

You take your own biscuit and bite in, savoring the taste. Then you dunk it into the milk so it could soften the biscuit just enough. He watches you like he’s studying some strange practice. When you finish your first you gesture for him to do the same by holding up a thumb and covering your heart like you were swooning. You’d swear he almost smiles. 

He does exactly as you did, taking a bite then dunking. Your brows raise expectantly, clearly wanting to know his take. Now a small smile does lift his lips as he holds a thumbs up. It takes effort to not giggle, the situation was bonkers on every level, but what in the hell was normal in your life. 

The two of you make it through the whole pack. He eyes the now biscuitless milk. Picking it up you offer it to him. He shakes his head. You make an overly exaggerated pouty face and push it in his face. Again he smiles, finally accepting it. 

Once it’s done he puts it in your waiting hand. You nod, turning to go to the kitchen once more, doing away with the evidence. A metal hand grips your wrist. Fear jumps in your stomach until you look at his open expression. He swallows hard, brows knit, as though he’s focusing intently on something. 

“Thank you,” he croaks in a low whisper. Immediately your heart begins to race. You’d honestly thought he couldn’t speak, there was something worse knowing that he could, knowing that you didn’t hear him do so all night despite everything that clearly happened here. 

A noise from the sitting room makes you jump, the glasses, nested together, slipping from your grip, shattering on the hard marble tile. 

“What the hell?” A garbled voice asks. The Soldier’s hand is still on your wrist, both of you frozen by fear as Eric stumbles into view. 

The laugh that tumbles from him is nothing less than sinister. Your stomach flips. 

“Like father, like daughter. You have a taste too?” Even from four feet away you can smell the whiskey on him. “He’s good.” His eyes note your wrist in The Soldier’s grip, “Or did he have some of you?” Another blood-curdling laugh, The Soldier lets go of you. 

“I can’t blame you Soldat,” Eric grabs your arm pulling you to him. “She’s quite a well-bred bitch, isn’t she?”

“Papa,” you try to pull away, “stop, please.” It’s useless you know. 

“What? Don’t want me to join in on the fun?” He throws you to the floor in front of The Soldier. 

“You like to watch Soldat?” He asks before pinning your arms down. “Of course you do,” he sneers, “if I say you do.”

You can’t bring yourself to look at The Soldier, just will your soul into that distant place, just wait it out. Except the sound of metal snapping and the feeling of Eric’s weight being lifted from you bring you careening back into your body. 

Gasping you sit up, scurrying back until your hand meets a shard of the glass you’d stupidly dropped earlier. A cry of pain shoots from your mouth before you can think to stop it. 

With one hand The Soldier tosses Eric to the side, his head hitting the corner of the bottom stair. Cradling your hand you stare at the prone form of your father, the bit of blood trickling from his head, wondering if the devil could die so easy - until The Soldier blocks your view. 

Crouching before you he takes your bleeding hand in his, examining it. 

“First-” he clears his throat, “aid?” 

“Kitchen,” you answer in a disconnected voice, looking around him at Eric. 

“He’s… Not.” Ah, not so easy then. “Let me help?” You nod and let him help you up. 

He follows you into the kitchen. You pause at the cupboard where the silver and linens were kept. 

“There’s a tablecloth in there you could use. If you want to cover up.” You point to the right door. He nods and get’s a crisp white cloth out. Turning your eyes from him as he wraps the tablecloth around his waist you watch the blood steadily pool in your hand. You only know he’s done when he presses a white napkin into the pool with steady pressure. 

“Kit?” 

“Under the sink.” He looks behind you locating the sink and gently guides you in that direction. You stop by the island holding the cloth as he directed. After shuffling around in the cabinet he finds the kit and pulls it out. 

“Here,” he turns the water on. You don’t even flinch as the flow hits your wound. He grabs a few more napkins and turns the water off, gently drying your skin holding the fabric tight until the bleeding slows. 

“Might need to stitch it,” he says. You just shrug. He nods. Releasing your hand he grabs your waist lifting you up to set you on the island. 

It’s strange how efficiently he works to stitch and bandage your hand. Even more strange is how gentle he is. When he’s almost done you look back toward the stairs. 

“Still unconscious,” he says. 

“How do you know?”

“Can hear his breathing, no change.” Methodically he erases any trace of the mini-medical service he provided. You just sit dazed, wondering how he can hear Eric’s breathing from here. 

When he’s done you feel obligated to tell him, “When he wakes up he’ll take us both to task for this.” 

He shakes his head, “Doubt he’ll remember. Can make it look like he slipped in a bathroom, makes sense being so drunk.” It’s actually a pretty good idea. 

“But you’re not…”

“I can just go back before he’s conscious.” The thought makes your stomach clench. “Show me the right bathroom.” 

You lead him up the stairs to the other side of your large Kensington home where Eric’s rooms were. The corner of the vanity was actually sharp enough to account for such a head wound. 

“Ok, I’ll take care of it.” 

You hover as he retrieves Eric, bringing him into the bathroom. He presses the wound into the corner of the vanity to leave blood in the right and reopen it. Eric, to your surprise, doesn’t wake. Painstakingly, he positions Eric as though he collapsed there. It was almost art. 

Even so… you couldn’t help but be afraid.  

“He’s going to know,” your voice cracks, so pathetic but you can’t help it. “when he wakes up he’ll have my-”

“No. Where’s your room?” Unconcerned you lead him to it, blessedly on the other side of the house. He looks around the hall outside, seeming to make calculations. 

“I’ll stay right here,” he gestures by the door. “If he wakes and comes here I’ll take care of him.”

“You can’t, he’ll-”

“He shouldn’t…” He clears his throat again, you realize he speaks like someone who’s not used to doing so. “He shouldn’t do that to you…” 

“He does what he wants. You should know that.” 

The Soldier shudders and looks away, “Different.”

Suddenly a million questions flood your mind. Why didn’t he run? Why didn’t he fight back? Why let them do that to him? But you know the answers already, know they’re similar to your own. There’s only one thing you don’t understand. 

“Why did you help me?” He looks surprised. 

“You helped me.” He studies you. “What’s your name?” 

“Catherine.”

“You’re a good person, Catherine.”

A bitter laugh breaks from somewhere deep inside you. 

Good. 

He didn’t know that at eight you’d beaten your own mother right where he’d been tortured and raped tonight, he didn’t know that you’d killed her years later after she tried to save you from this. He didn’t know that you’d beaten girls to death with your bare hands and murdered people and felt nothing for any of it. He didn’t know the depths of darkness bred into you. 

The laugh shifts into a sob, you try to hold it down but it comes anyway. With a thud, you hit your knees, the carpet stinging a bit. 

This was absurd. All of it. The goddamn Fist of Hydra telling you that you’re a good person after you ate chocolate digestives, after stopping your father from… 

“Fuck,” you choke out. He sits on his knees across from you, reaching out his flesh hand. You take it, holding so tight it aches until you stop crying. 

With burning eyes, you finally look up into his. They’re grey-blue, though far from cold. What had Hydra done to this creature? 

He helps you to your feet, and you release his hand, somewhat regretfully. 

“I’ll keep watch. I swear, I’ll keep you safe.” He looks toward Eric’s room, “Even if only for tonight.”

“Ok,” you nod, turning to enter your room. Something takes hold of you, stopping your motion. 

Before your mind can protest you fling your arms around this man’s torso, holding on so tight. Tentatively his own arms wrap around you. A clear tremor shakes him but you don’t let go. 

No one had ever done what he had. All your life his men had known what he did, to your mother to you, and no one stopped him. Not a damn one had ever dared or cared enough to try. Until this Soldier. 

“Thank you,” you breathe. He looks a little dazed as he nods in acceptance. 

“Sleep well, Catherine.”

For the first time in years, you actually do.

---------------------------------------------------

Tag List 

(If you’re tagged it’s because you’re in my permanent tags or my Bucky tags. Please let me know if you’d like to be removed from this series.)

@mywinterwolf​ @disagreetoagree​ @breezy1415​ @peachthatdrinkslemonade​ @wonderlandmind4​ @stevehesaidabadlanguageword​ @buckysstar​ @for-the-love-of-the-fandom​ @siriuslycloudy2​ @wildmoonflower​ @cutie1365​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @nighttwingg​ @handplucked​ @jewelofwinter​ @whiskeywinter89​

[honorhearted]

Tagged by @anoseforrottenapples aka the bestest Mary! <3 Thank you!

1. Why did you choose your URL?

Listen, I’m literally the worst person when it comes to naming things, urls included. I can’t remember what I originally wanted (valorhearted, I believe?), but I had no idea what to use for Ben. I was like uhhh...uhhhh...HONOR??? Big heart/soft boi??? Hearted???? SURE. *yoinks*

2. What is your middle name?

Ruth -- it was my paternal grandma’s first name, and my maternal grandma’s middle name, so I guess it was a no-brainer. 

3. If you could own a fairytale/fictional pet, what would it be?

It would have to be something that wouldn’t eat my cats (or me lol), so...unicorn? Even though I don’t like horses??? Bwuah. (Ben is glaring at me rn, I can feel it.) I guess I should clarify that I don’t DISLIKE horses, I just have no interest in them...and would prefer not to break any bones, unlike my horse-crazy friends.

4. Favorite color?

Literally any shade of blue. Guess I was predestined to love angst lol.  🎶ALLLMOOOST, BLUUUUUE🎶

5. Favorite song?

This is like asking someone to pick their favorite child lol, I am LITERALLY always having a different favorite. I’m really enjoying the band The Midnight lately, which has an 80s vibe.

6. What are your top three fandoms?

Presently, I’m just involved in TURN. My past fandoms have been spoiled for me, SO I can’t really list them as faves? Though I have fond memories of the Di.gimon fandom...probably cuz I was like 11 lmao. YES, I WAS ONE OF THOSE ANI.ME KIDDOS. LEAVE ME BE. 

7. Why do you enjoy tumblr?

I like being able to spaz with other fans, cuz otherwise, I’d just have to combust on my own. And alas, fanfiction is no longer really a place to do that like it once was. :( Maybe it’s cuz of a different generation, but I used to have conversations with people in reviews and make friends that way, but now most of my fanfiction gets radio silence. Doesn’t help that I almost never write for popular ships lol. *writes Ben with literally everyone but That One Ship™*

8. Tag all 9 of your tumblr crushes.

*points at* ALL OF YOU!!!! <3333 I’m pretty sure you've all been tagged already, so feel free to do this if you haven’t! I also like how this questionnaire assumes I have 9 friends on here lmao, I AM 5EVAR ALONE. Oh...WAIT, I don’t think @therapardalis or @tothedevilsshow were tagged, so there we go! Actual engagement! lol

[nctwd127]

Arranged Marriage.

Chapter Fourteen. 

Word Count: 3218

Yuta and I have not spoken a single word to each other since the day I yelled at him and it’s been two weeks now. Living in the same place as taken its toll on us. We avoid being home as much as possible, whenever I’m there, he’s usually not. And when he’s there, I try my best to not be.

He’s given my space and privacy back for the most part, he doesn’t pester around at the end of the day on campus anymore. During the first lesson, he either doesn’t show up or when he does, I sit in the front of the class. His eyes still burn the back of my head but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

Doyoung has left us, well me. The pain was far too much for him to handle and he just couldn’t do it anymore. He tried hard to maintain the friendship with me but it was no use. There were habits we couldn’t break and work past.

He stopped joining us for lunch and at the parking lot. He maintained his friendships with Hendery and Ten, of course, they were friends long before me and I hoped that would always be the case. I’d give up my boys for their friendship.

For some reason though, he didn’t try at all to make a friendship with Lucas outside of me. Hendery and Ten always tried reassuring me that they were too different to be friends, but I knew them far too well to know that they were lying.

Lucas made his own place in our little group because he never intended filling in the place that was left empty. I felt he was more carefree and just more him now that Doyoung was away from us, from me. And that was weird to notice at first but I just ignored it because I’m sure that wasn’t the case.

As for him and I, we were spending more time together, with the boys and alone. We spent most of the afternoons together away in our little hidden location. After the first time, the hand holding became something frequent till it became a habit. And now whenever we were alone, our hands naturally lace together.

The forehead kisses were my favorite but he didn’t do it often as I’d like him too. Ten and Hendery asked me often, I don’t know if they asked him though, if there was something going on between us or if we liked each other.

My answer was always the same, no there is nothing and no there is no feelings.

I don’t know if I was lying or not to be honest. And I don’t know what he thinks either. We just enjoyed being around each other and the chemistry that’s between us. Now if it was just friend wise or more, I don’t know. But with everything going on, I don’t have the time to even consider thinking about feelings.

The forsaken wedding is to take place in three weeks. I’ve done everything in my power to try and stop it but nothing. In the last two weeks, I have met with my parents and the Nakamaoto’s to convince them in some kind of way to not let this happen. To please stop this and find some other way to get what they want with the company.

But nothing. Even now that I wasn’t with Doyoung, they still threatened his future. Everyone’s was still on the line until the day Yuta and I say, “I do.” There was nothing more I could do, it was all useless.

They have everything sorted already, the day, the venue, the guest list, basically and literally everything. The only thing Yuta and I have to do is, choosing our garments and show up. That is literally it. Everything about this stupid wedding was chosen for us, for me.

Which if I really think about it, that’s fine because I want nothing of mine to be put into a wedding I never wanted and know will never mean anything.

Right now, it was a Monday night and I was sitting in the library looking over a dress magazine, to see if any of them sparked an interest for me. Spoiler alert, they didn’t. How was I supposed to find a dress that did anything for me when I didn’t want to marry?

Being so engrossed in the magazine, I didn’t realize the door was being opened till I heard his voice.

“Jesus, you fucking scared me.” Yuta had his hand to his chest. I looked up from the magazine, our gazes meeting. “Eh, sorry I think?”

“I thought I was home alone. Since all the lights were off when I came home an hour ago.” He explained for me scaring him. He had fully walked in and closed the door before taking a seat in one of the bean bag chairs that was across from me.

He was facing me and all I did was stare at him. This is the most we have looked and talked to each other in the two weeks. So it felt weird and uncomfortable.

“I heard you come home but I assumed you knew I was here since my car is here.”

“Usually your car is but you’re not.” Yuta pointed out, looking at the clothes I wore as my pajamas. A large t-shirt and short shorts that basically did nothing and could wear as underwear if I tried hard enough.

“Oh, well here I am.” I gave him the cat smile and went back to the magazine as he started reading his book. I felt his gaze on me whenever I flipped the page and sighed out loud. There was no dress that called my attention. I don’t think there ever will be.

“Yuta, you keep staring at me like that and one day I might just combust.” I told him not looking up from a dress that seemed to be a little fitting for my liking but not enough. He chuckled and closed his book.

“Sorry, it’s just that, you’re looking at dresses.” He started. “It just makes me realize how much closer it is now.” There was a tone in his voice that made me sad, he sounded almost hopeful.

If only he could remember the times we jokingly promised that someday we would get married, married for real, not because someone was forcing us too. Married because there was love there, real love. The love that filled our hearts with nothing but happiness.

“Unfortunately so. I’m sure they kept you up to date with the all the meetings I’ve had with them about stopping this. Of course to no avail, seeing as I’m looking for a stupid dress.” I sighed and closed the magazine, tossing it to the side. I look at that thing any longer and my head will fall off.

“Do you think you could ever accept this?” He wondered getting up from his seat and taking the seat next to me on the couch.

My feet were resting on the side he sat on but instead of pushing them off, he pulled them onto his lap. He didn’t touch me more after that though, just moved his hands to his side.

His question had me thinking about it longer than I liked. I knew I couldn’t, ever. It was torture living like this, fighting, not speaking for weeks, walking on eggshells on everything I did. This isn’t how I wanted to live and he wasn’t who I wanted to make a future with, not anymore.

He hasn’t been for a long time.

The constant reminder of what we had following me around everywhere I went was too much. The pain and misery I’ve had to endure since this stupid thing happened was unbearable, I could feel my sanity escaping me again.

As much as I wanted too, I couldn’t escape the memories. The dreams started again, every night twisting and turning in my sleep, sweat covering my whole being as the years played themselves over and over again like a broken record.

My heart never healed and now I know it never will. For this cut was far too deep for any stitches to ever make a difference.

“No.” I mumbled pulling my legs off and getting up. “I never will.”

Without looking back, I left the library letting him sit there alone with his own thoughts and emotions. I made it to the bottom of the stairs before I heard Yuta running down the hall to catch up to me.

My foot rested on the first step when his hand landed on my shoulder, turning me around to face him. Looking at him now, he looked tried, like he wasn’t getting much sleep these days. His usual silky skin was pale and washed out. His hair wasn’t as fluffy and full of volume like it normally was. It was flat and oily looking.

What I didn’t know was that, while I was suffering in my own silence and drowning in the memories, he was too. The dreams started to become persistent for him as well. He couldn’t understand what the dreams meant, it didn’t make sense for him to be dreaming about me as much as he was.

Everything he saw, felt real as if it had actually happened, like he lived every moment that was presented to him. But of course, with no memory, how could he know it was real? He was confused and felt like he was losing his own mind.

Yuta started to feel like there was a piece of him missing. He couldn’t understand it but he started to feel things he hadn’t in a long time. He felt like he was starting to have feelings for me and he didn’t like that. Because he didn’t want to do that to himself again.

We confessed to each other in the span of our three month relationship, the months he forgot. After the accident and with his memories gone, I thought he wouldn’t remember the feelings he had for me. But he did, but never got the chance to tell me.

I erased myself from his life without warning, without reason, without even a small goodbye. I just stopped being there. I acted as if he didn’t even exist in my life anymore.

He suffered on his own for a long time too. Once he was finally moving past the broken relationship, well the version he knew, he got the biggest blow yet. I started dating Doyoung.

Even if it was after three years, his heart ached to know that he wouldn’t be the one to have me, to hold and love me. In his heart, Yuta believed that it should have been him to have me in all my glory first, not Doyoung. And the fact that he wasn’t my first, hurt his pride and ego. And only fueled the hate he had against Doyoung more.

Completely wrong of course, Yuta was and will always be my first. He just, can’t remember it.  

~ Soon he’ll know the truth. ~

Yuta wanted me back, no matter how it happened. Even if it meant having to marry, then so be it. He still wanted the company, that was never a doubt but what he wanted most was me. Even if he didn’t have feelings for me at the beginning of this, he still wanted me.

“Why not? Why can’t you accept this?”

The look in his eyes confused me because they looked so hurt and confused. It was weirdly enough tugging at my heart strings and I don’t like that. I don’t ever want to feel what I did again. I can’t. My heart wasn’t for him anymore.

“For reasons you’ll never understand Yuta. I just can’t.” I explained.

His facial expression changed, leaving behind the look hurt and replacing it with anger. “It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it? Is that why you can’t accept this? Why you can’t accept me?” He hissed through gritted teeth.

I was taken aback by his sudden outburst that I involuntary backed away from him. Doyoung’s name to be dropped in this conversation, wasn’t was I was expecting.

“This has nothing to do with anyone but myself. I told you, I just can’t. Don’t do this right now.” I calmly told him despite feeling my heart pick up speed.

That only seemed to have pissed him off more. “Is he the reason you left me? Is he the reason you just walked out of my life?” Yuta’s voice started to pick up in volume. He ruffled his hair and stepped away from me for a moment just staring at me.

Then and only then is when I finally understood the hurt I caused him. I broke his heart the way he broke mine, neither of us aware that it had even happened.

“What are you even saying? I didn’t know him-“

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” He interrupted me. “You erased me from your life and right after that, you started hanging with him and the other two bozos.”

“Look, I’m not doing this right now. You need to calm down and just I don’t know, sleep or something. You look exhausted Yuta.” I insisted, stepping up the stairs slowly.

Every step I took up, he did too. His eyes became dark and hooded, the anger slowly creeping up on him. Instead of it’s usual fast track attack on his nerves.

I decided to not run but to keep moving away from him, this was becoming too much. We haven’t talked in two weeks and now we were going to end up fighting and arguing again.

By the time I reached my door, he was breathing down on me. I don’t even know how he got right in front of me but here he was. I didn’t dare step into my room, knowing that the next move I took would set him off. So I stayed put staring at his chest while he decided what he wanted to do.

What I didn’t expect was for him to hug me and pull me into him. His body felt overly hot, like he was on fire. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do so I just hugged him back, feeling how his body untensed under my hold. It felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on him.

~ He was. The weight of the memories slowly making their way back to him. ~

“I need you.” Yuta whispered in my hair, his hands going down my back to my lower waist before he cupped my ass. “Jump.”

Before I knew it, my legs were wrapped around his waist and my back was against the wall with his face buried in my neck. I tugged at the end of his hair, trying to pull his face away from my neck.

“No marks, please.” I whimpered when he bite into my skin.

“Why not? It wasn’t a problem before. Is there someone that it will bother if there was?” He snapped letting go of me completely. The way he emphasized someone made it clear he was talking about someone specific and I knew exactly who.

Lucas.

This wasn’t a conversation I was ready or willing to have with him, I turned to face my room. He gripped my forearm to stop me, “I wasn’t done.” Whatever he was going through, it was taking its toll on him. It was eating away at him, very slowly.

He pulled me back to him and cupped my face. There was so much going on in his eyes, the emotions swirled around like tornado, none of them stay put for more than a second at a time. He looked so tired, he was so tired.

Yuta took care of me once, so I’ll do it for him once too.

For the first time, I made the move and connected our lips. His response was slow but then he finally reacted the proper way. Pulling him into me by his neck, caught him off guard and we stumbled back into the wall. He laughed into the kiss, “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting that.” He apologized, resting his forehead on mine.

“Let me take care of you tonight, please.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him into his bedroom. He stood in the middle of his room as I pulled the covers of his bed, making it ready for him to crawl into bed. I moved his pillows around, the way I knew he liked them.

“I’m going to take a shower first. I’ll be right back.” He announced, watching me do something he’s felt I’ve done a million times but was sure this was the first time. I hummed nodding my head in response, not looking at him, still doing my thing.

While Yuta stepped out, I just looked around his room. This boy didn’t seem to have changed at all in the years that have passed. His mini bookshelf was filled with the manga’s he liked so much. His desk organized to his liking. Some clothes were scattered around the floor but nothing to messy.

The book on his desk caught my attention, simply because it was one of my favorites. And also, it was my copy that I had left in the library a while ago. I sat in his chair and opened it to where he had last left off.

Wish I hadn’t when a Polaroid of us fell out from in between the pages. Turning the book to face down so he wouldn’t lose his place, I picked up the small rectangle. I had my eyes closed with my hands covering my mouth as Yuta kissed my rosy cheek, a wide and bright smile on his lips.

“Come on, let me take a picture of us!” Yuta whined pulling my arm. I was in a fit of giggles because of him. Picture taking was never really my thing and now that he wanted to take my picture, made me giddy and shy.

“No, I’m shy.” I argued back, trying to pout at him. He squished my cheeks and gave me a peck. “I don’t care, just take one picture with me.” He argued back only causing me to laugh more. He started to just take random pictures of me.

Flash after flash blinded my vision for a moment so I closed my eyes. He took advantage of the moment and took the picture he wanted.

“Yes!” He shouted satisfied with his victory, “I got it. Look, it’s cute.” He shook it a little more and then the picture became clear. “It is cute, I want it.” I said reaching out for it but he took it out of my reach before I was able to get it.

“No, this one is mine. You can have this one.”

Before I could ask which one, his lips meet mine and the click of the camera went off, followed by the flash.

Now that I think about it, I have no idea who kept it or where that picture is. The rest of them were with me, I knew that much.

“You know, I don’t remember taking that picture.”

Masterlist

~~~~

Next week’s chapter will have a semi-r*pe scene in it and I want everyone to please be aware of that. For more details about that, please look at the announcement post on the Masterlist, thank you. 

[sanatozakisana]

Feel 느낌

Part 2

LOVE ME- THE 1975

The plane touched down at around 11 am. The weather in Japan was a bit gloomy, especially now that December had closed in. The snow was visibly building up on the side of streets and there were several warning cones too. Dahyun took care of the bags while she let Sana wear her favorite burnt orange winter coat. It was almost like her second skin during winter time, Dahyun thought.

Waiting outside the airport for a taxi, they both sat down on a bench while Sana phoned the Airbnb room owner.

“Good morning Ms. Junji! Yes, yes. I’ve caught the directions. Thank you so much for sending them in advance!” Dahyun looked intently at Sana.

“I could never ever have her phone manners.” She thought to herself. The ‘how did I get so lucky’ thoughts eventually twisted into ‘you’re gonna have a large neon sign fall on you’ as she remembered something.

This is terrible.

Her head was swarming with hornets. A trip is what they came here for. A big, grand trip. Trips have to come with itineraries. A plan, exactly yes. Problem was, Dahyun had to be very excited to leave her list of ‘things to buy’ and ‘where to go’ in their apartment. She didn’t even keep a copy in her phone! She just had to be very traditional and write things down on a quiz-size paper.

And yes, it wasn’t Dahyun’s first time in Japan but since she insisted to Sana that she plan their trip, she jotted down places in Tokyo where Sana mentioned she hasn’t been to before.

A taxi halted in front of them. “Baby girl, come on. Ms. Junji already left the key under the rug. We wouldn’t want to take too long.” Sana urged Dahyun to go faster as they both lugged their bags to the taxi’s trunk.

The bustling streets of Japan steered Dahyun's emotions into the whirlwind of last year. The trip wasn't exactly as planned as they stayed long than intended because 'someone' just had to leave a conversation with their girlfriend open on their phone, so the girlfriend's little sister snatched the phone and read messages aloud. During dinner. With the parents.

It must've been the:

4:37 pm Sana: "i'm wearing the red lace tonight ;) "

4:38 pm Dahyun: "Dying to take it off :p"

Or maybe the little sister's awkward inquiry to the parents of "What's a red lace?" that sent Dahyun to become a spontaneous combusting mess. The parents didn't mind at first. They just looked at Sana and Dahyun like deer caught in headlights. Sana was tightly grasping her fork, cheeks puffed up with air and was ready to run a marathon back to Korea. Meanwhile, Dahyun took the chance of snatching her phone back from Sana's little sister, Hitomi, while the girl questioningly looks at everyone.

"Hitomi dear, would you like to watch TV? I heard your favorite cartoon is on!" Mr. Minatozaki escorted Hitomi to the back side of the house where their large living room is. The couple heard the TV turn on, followed by Hitomi's giggles and cartoonish dialogue. They both eased up.

"So, would you like to tell us something Sana?" Mr. Minatozaki walked back and appeared to have said it sternly than he intended. Sana once more looked up with shocked, rounded eyes.

"Uhh... Well, I was going to tell you anyway. When we go hiking next week. It's not easy for me to be so upfront about it knowing that you both have a chance of resenting me after I---"

Sana was cut off by her parents' laughter. On the other hand, Dahyun was looking like a lost child.

"Honey, do you really think that way about us?" Mrs. Minatozaki feigned offense for their daughter's rather assuming statement.

"We love you no matter what." Sana' mom continued. "I knew you were something special. And knowing this part of you honey..." Mrs. Minatozaki's voice cracked with emotions. "This just makes you more special." They hugged tightly. Sana audibly released air that was trapped inside her lungs from being a nervous wreck.

"I agree honey. But let's not get dramatic okay? We knew from the start who you were," Mr. Minatozaki turned to Dahyun, "My sweet little Dahyunnie". He mimicked Sana's seductive voice (probably overheard it because of Sana's careless nature), sending everyone in the dining room in a fit of laughter, others in a more nervous tone.

"Ya! Pa, stop embarrassing me!" Sana pouted as she turned red as a tomato.

"What's that kids say these days?" Mrs. Minatozaki asked in between warm giggles. "We been---"

"We been knew. Yes, you guys can both send me off a cliff." Sana said shyly, glancing at Dahyun who was visibly amused by what was happening. They had stayed in the Minatozaki household for a week and a half now. Sana's parents were very welcoming to Dahyun as they both gave her the biggest and warmest hug on her first day. Sana did introduce her as her best friend, but she noticed the quick exchange of 'is that so' glances between her parents.

Dinner night concluded with Dahyun as the receiving end of the Minatozakis' excruciatingly humourous jokes. She melted and blended into the family like butter. She wished that this feeling wouldn't disappear and last as long as she and Sana loved each other.

Mr. and Mrs. Minatozaki then offered Dahyun that she stay a bit longer in Japan, as Dahyun's presence in Sana's life made their daughter more joyful than how she already is. Dahyun piqued their interest and they wanted to know her more as how any parent would want to meet the future spouse of their children and secretly, how Dahyun treats Sana.

In conclusion, due to the dinner fiasco last year and being Christmas season and all, Dahyun and Sana didn't want to bother the Minatozaki household by staying there as Sana's parents told her that they'll be holding a Christmas party for all their co-workers and rich neighbors. They instead booked their Airbnb in Shibuya, deciding they stay at the capital where Sana hadn't been before, aside from her short visits.

"Here we are." Sana stretched her back and cracked her knuckles as they both step out the taxi. Dahyun was checking her phone for text messages.

The apartment was two storeys, big and the exterior looked so chic and clean with its two-tone black and white paint. They were to occupy the second floor. It was a studio-type, overlooking the football park outside. They were in Nishihara, Shibuya. It's an easy location to access every destination in Tokyo as they were slightly in the middle of everything.

2 message from Chaengchaeng

12:42 pm Chaengchaeng: Hope you and Shiba Sana have a blasting mother effin' time there!!... since u chose not to include me in ur trip.

12:42 pm Chaengchaeng: Just kidding! But seriously, they're selling tons of strawberries in Tokyo markets!!! ehem....

Dahyun smiled at the texts. Then she remembered the amnesiac person she was before they flew to Japan. In her head were voices of ugly grynches and lepricons maliciously attacking her saying, "You better think fast. From Shibuya to the trainyard ya go!!!" Dahyun was irked.

"Sana, Chaeng just gave me her list of things to buy and..." She paused as she looked up and saw how the apartment looked.

"Baby, I didn't picture it'd be this cool!" Dahyun roamed her eyes on the street surrounding the apartment, filled with winter sakuras.

[clericbyers]

okay but present day byler listening to chasing cars together and laying on wills bed and that’s where mike realizes he loves him

“I made a new playlist if you’re down to listen,” Will points out one day while he and Mike are lazing about outside on the porch. Mike’s kicking his Vans through the dirt before him and coughing out the dust that catches in his throat.

“Yeah, sure,” he wheezes out, “you always have the best song order in your lists than anyone else.”

Will laughs. “You only like my ordering because your favorite songs are almost always first.”

“You know me too well.” Mike grins up at his friend and feels his heart do that funny flip thing it’s been practicing recently. If recently could be at least the past five years or so, sure.

Mike kicks dirt again and climbs fully to his feet. “You know you’re lucky Lucas isn’t here and you’re wearing just Vans.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’d murder you for kicking your feet around with Air Maxs on, especially the 270 React.”

Mike sticks out his tongue playfully, which makes Will roll his eyes before motioning for Mike to follow him inside. It’s just them today; Joyce is out working, Hopper is at the station, Jonathan got hired to take photos all day for some Instagram influencer in Indianapolis, and Elle is out with her girlfriend Max in the city. Mike always feels a little nervous being alone with Will these days. It’s mostly anxiety in his head brought by silly daydreams of maybe holding his best friend’s hand as they sit on the porch, or of kissing him every time they see each other, small pecks and long hungry kisses that each encapsulate everything he’s wanted for a long time.

Mike often wonders if he’s projecting in some fashion, taking out all his gay feels and pressing them on Will since they’re the closest in the Party. It’s no secret where Mike’s interests lie (if the rainbow pin he wore everywhere didn’t broadcast it enough, the rainbow flag in his room was a big, well, flag. Plus, Mike almost always referred to himself as the secondary gay in town, only second to Will), but absolutely no one knows how he feels about Will. Mike’s not even sure either and that’s the worst part.

If he can get a handle on what exactly all his thoughts toward Will mean, if he’s sure he’s not taking out his celebrity crush on Jake Gyllenhaal on Will, then maybe something could be done.

Will plops down onto his bed and starts scrolling through his phone. Mike stands in the doorway for a second longer, watching Will’s fingers grip the sides of his phone before one hand reaches up to brush freshly cut bangs from his head. Mike’s heart catches on a beat and gets lost in the rhythm of Mike’s turbulent emotions.

“Aren’t you gonna sit down?” Will asks with a small chuckle. “I don’t bite.”

“Oh good,” shoots back Mike as he makes his way to Will. “I thought you were a cannibal.”

Will leans over and nips lightly at Mike’s bare arm. His tongue dances across Mike’s skin for just a moment and Mike’s face turns vibrant pink. Will though makes a face and pulls away with a groan. “If I was a cannibal, I wouldn’t eat you.”

“Am I too stringy?”

Will shrugs. “If I ate you then I wouldn’t be able to hang with you every day. I can hold off the temptation for eternity as long as you’re still here.” Mike is going to combust. “Plus, you taste gross.”

“Haha.” The curly haired boy tightens the scrunchie holding his hair back in a loose ponytail—courtesy of Elle—before laying down beside Will. “C’mon, let’s listen to this playlist of yours.”

Will turns on his Bluetooth speaker and then starts up the music. He settles in next to Mike and they both stare into each other’s eyes until Will starts giggling and then closes his eyes as he hums along to the music. They both alternate between humming and singing along, butchering lyrics on purpose and Mike belting out whatever he can when Mr. Brightside and 19-2000 plays.

“Oh,” Will perks when an unfamiliar guitar riff starts playing. “This is the last song; I found it recently. I think you’ll like it.”

Mike opens his eyes and clears out his head enough to take a listen.

We’ll do it all; everything, on our own.

“The melody is nice,” he replies somewhat distractedly. The calmness of this opening has him a little by the throat, and he’s anticipating a rise in energy once the drums start but he still takes in the simplistic instrumentation this far in.

We don’t need; anything, or anyone.

Fair enough.

If I lay here, and Mike snorts to himself given he and Will are just laying around themselves, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Mike feels his throat clench at that. That hits a little too close to home. He chances a glance at Will, who has his eyes closed and oh, oh, there goes Mike’s heart again doing those dumb cartwheels in his chest because Will looks so content and happy being here with Mike.

I don’t quite know; how to say, how I feel.

Mike feels the bottom drop out his stomach. Fuck.

Those three words are said too much; they’re not enough.

Those three words…those three words. Oh. Yeah. Mike stares up at the ceiling and takes in a deep breath. Yeah, it’s—it’s not enough is it? Not really. Will knows Mike loves him, everyone knows Mike loves his friends but this…emotion that consumes Mike unwillingly when Will just glances at him? Those three words really aren’t enough after all.

If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Will fidgets and peaks open an eye before sending Mike a sleepy smile.

Forget what we’re told, before we get too old.

Mike thinks back to their younger years, when all the adults in town admonished him for being so close to Will, for daring to show interest in other boys outside of friendship. How they told him he couldn’t like boys, that it was wrong and evil even now in this century despite what big city life promoted. So he came out in 8th grade, wore rainbow pins and socks and anything he could, went with Nancy into the big city to buy a pride flag in 9th grade, went to prom with his (very short term) boyfriend in 10th grade, and promptly ignored everything he had been taught before about it being wrong to like who he liked.

He won’t grow old enough to be unable to escape the rhetoric. None of the Party will.

Show me a garden that’s bursting into life.

Will opens his other eye and scoots in just a bit closer. Mike can feel the heat from his leg even though they aren’t touching at this distance. He thinks he might passing out if he can’t get his breath back.

Let’s waste time chasing cars around our heads.

Mike feels a little fuzzy now, almost punch drunk from Will’s closeness. He scoots in too, turns on his side to face Will a little better. Will turns as well and now they lie so close, knees knocking together and barely enough space between their faces. Will’s bed is far too small for two people, but right now it seems just about the perfect size.

I need your grace to remind me to find my own.

“Mike?” Will whispers, too gentle in the rising beat of the song.

Mike can’t stop thinking; he can’t shut off his brain, it’s only processing one thing and it’s putting a label to those stupid emotions that have been consuming him since they were kids. The emotion that he knows is more than friendship for the past five years. But now…

“I’m in love with you.”

If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Will is crying. No sobs, no messiness, just one of those uncontrollable smiles framed by sweet wetness dripping from his eyes. Mike leans forward to brush the tears from his best friend’s face, no, not just his best friend, someone he loves more than any words could detail.

Forget what we’re told, before we get too old.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

There’s something so liberating about saying it aloud, something so freeing about hearing something known since they first sat on the swings together and decided to become friends. Mike feels like his life is starting all over again now that he’s basking under the rays of Will’s returned affections.

Show me a garden that’s bursting into life.

The garden, it’s his heart, tended to by the only boy he’s ever truly loved.

All that I am, all that I ever was, and Mike takes Will’s hands in his own as the other boy blushes slightly, is here in your perfect eyes.

Perfect green eyes that go soft at the edges and look blue under the right lighting, expressive big eyes that echo everything Mike’s ever felt like twin mirrors reflecting his soul.

They’re all I can see.

Mike can’t look away now, if ever. God, he’s so in love, huh. It took him this long to realize it.

I don’t know where. Confused about how as well.

How did Mike fall anyway? He doesn’t know. It wasn’t much of a fall anyway, more of a sink, a slow dip into deep rich waters lavishing the beaches of his mind. Gentle waves of reminders about how much different Mike feels toward Will, but never a label until now. Now, there’s only love crashing to shore and Mike accepts the waves with the ease of a Californian surfer.

Just know that these things will never change for us at all.

Nothing’s changed. Nothing has ever changed really.

“If I lay here,” Will whispers with the last verse of the song, singing just enough to keep the pitch but breathy with emotion he can’t contain. “If I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Mike smiles and he knows it’s the dopey one, he can’t help himself, but Will is going pink and he’s so lovely. Mike’s sure Will knows his verbal answer so he shows it instead, closing the gap with a kiss that should have happen years ago. But things happen for a reason, and now, Mike decides as Will clamps his fists into Mike’s shirt and deepens the kiss until only the sound of their slow but needy kissing takes the room after the song ends, is the perfect time and reason for it all.

[dawnsplaceyt]

Crowleys Daughter Reader X Sam Winchester

When your father tells you that you can not date anyone with the name of Sam or Dean Winchester you devise a new plan to continue seeing the one your father so lovingly nicknamed moose.  Word Count: 715 Sam x Demon Reader Swearing 

"Sam fucking Winchester!" Crowley yelled as you watched him pace the floors. "You mean to tell me, my daughter is fucking Sam Winchester?" He asked with a growl. You nodded with a smile. "Darling what..How did you manage to fall in love with Sam Winchester?"

"I don't know if its love daddy, it may just be desire."

Crowley made a face.

"Darling please do not say that, you know I cannot handle another scare."

"Dad-"

"No no you cannot date Sam Winchester."

"What about De-"

"No! You are grounded to your room!"

"You cannot ground me I am an adult!"

"No you are my daughter, the princess of Hell!

"So I just cannot date anyone named Sam or Dean Winchester?" You finally asked looking your father over. He nodded and waved you off.

You smiled and called Sam, the boy seemed to be groggy, you must have just woken him up. "Hey love, so my dad found out about you. I am not sure how, so what other names would you like to go by?"

"Wh-What (Y/N)?" He asked, his face was scrunched up as he got up out of bed walking towards the bathroom. He had to understand why you wanted this.

"My dad said I couldn't date anyone named Sam or Dean Winchester. So come up with a new first name."

"Oh.. that.. you are cunning love."

"I am a demon, the princess of Hell my handsome Winchester."

"What would you like my name to be?"

"Oh you are giving me that choice! Awesome, alright my boy toy. You new name is (NEW NAME) Winchester." You smiled as you laid back on your bed.

You heard Sam chuckled. "Alright, I can roll with (New Name)."

"How about we go on a date later?"

Sam agreed. The next week the two of you went to a fancy restaurant, with your power you had enough money to buy the entire place. You let Sam pick anything he wanted. "Sa-"

"No no sweetheart remember my name is (New Name) now. You decided that, thats my name for you."

You grinned and nodded kissing his cheek. "You're right love, you can pick anything from the menu three times over if you want. I will buy you everything and anything you want."

He smirked and the two of you ate and laughed together. You had a smoothie and a plate full of (favorite food), Sam was eating a steak and had plenty of greens lining the plate. You had always admired his enjoyment with the healthier things in life. You knew you were not the healthiest thing for him, but you wanted him to love you anyway.

This went on for weeks, when you father asked you who you were dating now you smiled. "His name is (New Name)."

"Oh no longer those horrible boys than huh?"

"Would you like to meet him?" You asked with a wide smile on your face.

Crowley nodded wanting to meet the boy who had captured his daughters heart. A few more weeks passed and you and Sam were seated at a table with Dean and Castiel, your father was supposed to arrive within the next few minutes the you couldn't help but laugh. You new he would be furious, but he couldn't make a scene with so many people around. As your father spotted you his brow furrowed and he stormed over to you.

"Where is (New Name)?"

"This is (New Name)." You said smiling as you grabbed Sam's hand. "You said I couldn't date anyone named Sam or Dean Winchester. So we changed his name. Dad I love him, and you need to deal with that."

Crowley looked like he was about to combust, he was fuming. "You..you-" Before he could finish you handed him a bottle fo Craig.

"Sit father, enjoy the meal. The Craig is forty years old daddy." He snarled as he sat beside you and Castile.

"Feathers."

"Crowley."

"I was outsmarted by my daughter, you damn Winchesters." You couldn't help but smirk as you all enjoyed your meal, Crowley throwing daggers at Sam with his eyes. He did see how much he made you laugh and smile but he was still furious, it makes it harder to kill someone when your child is dating them." ------ Tags cause i appreciate your input/ you are a supernatural blog/fanficer as well Wanna be add (or removed ) to/from tag list? Ask!

@chimeracuddles @bite-me-bitchhh @destielstuffandthings @gabrielsbackbitches

[titsthedamnseason]

If you haven't done it already can you do headcanons about Julian's birthday?

bitch you know it asdfghj and by some miracle ive actually gotten these done before the two weeks that could potentially be his birthday are over so happy birthday julian!!

julian has never really had a big birthday celebration before

of course emma and the kids and diana always got him gifts and spoiled him

you know, doing chores for him, letting him relax for a day, stuff like that

but poor julian is a worrier so he’d always end up insisting to help anyway, saying that he wanted to

he even would always make the cake since no one else could

it wasnt until later that everyone realized that every time they had tried to spoil julian on his birthday, he turned it around on them, and he wound up doing most of the work

they are determined to make his 18th birthday different

helen and aline are more than capable of holding down the fort now

plus julian and emma take a break from their travel year for the holidays and are in the institute for julian’s birthday

which could be anytime from jan 1-15 but my personal hc is that it’s on new years day (wink wink)

so anyway julian and emma will be in la for his bday and julian is a lot more carefree this year so everyone is highkey determined to give him the best birthday this year

nobody wakes him up early, and after staying up so late the night before his normal internal clock doesnt wake him up as usual

at 12am everyone else shouted “happy new year!” and emma shouted “happy birthday julian!”

anyway when julian does wake up, later than usual, his first instinct is to shoot out of bed and get the kids breakfast but he takes a moment to himself to revel in the fact that this is his first birthday spent waking up next to emma as her boyfriend

emma seizes her moment and convinces him to stay for just a while longer, im sure the kids are fine, helen and aline have been taking care of them for months

julian gives her like five minutes of kisses and cuddles before beelining for the kitchen

he finds that everyone else has already been up for an hour or so and has already eaten breakfast

the second he enters the kitchen everyone yells “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” and he is bombarded with hugs and drawings and cards and stupid gag gifts from the kids that he accepts with a smile cristina and mark both hug him as well and he’s pleasantly surprised to see them

(if you read my tda holiday hcs i made them leave before this point but awsxdcfvgyh they come back to surprise him)

he grabs a plate for himself reluctantly, wont stop apologizing to helen and aline that he overslept

they keep telling him they dont care but, surprise surprise, he’s not listening

when julian goes back to his room to get dressed he finds emma already ready with his favorite blue dress of her’s on and holding a present for him

his reaction is “oh that reminds me” and he pulls out another gift from under the dresser

emma is like ????? and julian is like “…for you” and emma is still like ????? so then julian explains “i got you a new year’s gift too”

emma is like fuck that shit this is a birthday gift asdfgyhu “who the fuck buys new year’s presents” “i dont know i love you” “i love you too but what the fuck julian now i look bad” “you couldnt look bad if you were trying”

anyway after emma gets it through julian’s head that he does deserve a birthday gift and no, she refuses to open up his gift to her on his birthday, nice try, julian, he opens it up

it’s a new blue shirt that almost exactly matches emma’s dress which is “an unfortunate coincidence”

he cant stop telling her it’s too much, you shouldnt have, and emma is like hoe you think im done??? think again

but actually she doesnt say that, she just says youre welcome asdfghyuj

anyway

they go meet everyone in their matching outfits and they all just hang around a bit, there isnt much else julian could ask for than to be with his family

but at lunch emma surprises julian with a picnic for the two of them at the beach

she promises that she didnt touch the food, she had aline make it all asdfrghy

once they finish emma gives julian more presents(“this is a prank right?” “am i laughing? actually i am but not because this is a prank, please just open the presents” ) 

the first is a whole set of paints and brushes and other art supplies i know nothing about, all custom made, the brushes with inscriptions on the handles( “jb” “as long as you exist and i exist i will love you” “i love you more than starlight”)

julian: where did you get that last quote from?

emma: i thought of it

julian: *melts*

he asks how she knew what supplies to get him and she told him how she saw him looking at all this stuff back in that shop in london and went back to get it for him

he’s so touched

he is already certifiably not okay™️ because the whole day has been against everything he’s ever known and he feels weird, he just wants to give something to someone, literally anyone

julian is so happy and when emma pulls out an envelope he has to bite his tongue to keep from saying “oh no not again”

emma just gives him a look when she sees him holding back asdfgbhgt

he’s preparing himself for some sort of long sentimental card from her that will probably make him cry but what he gets is worse

it’s just a piece of paper that says “im having so much fun on our date right now, but id love it even more if you came with me to the louvre to our next one”

julian is shooketh to a level beyond all levels

he cant imagine why emma looks so worried he wont like it

they laugh and hug and then proceed to kiss a lot before going back to the institute 

julian is ready to just chill now 

he comes in and there are decorations filling the entryway

a million balloons, streamers, banners

he looks at emma who just shrugs but she’s smiling so big and has a knowing look on her face 

there’s a beautifully decorated poster next to the staircase that says “TAKE ONE” and there’s a party hat for emma and a ridiculous crown for julian that says “it’s my birthday!” under it

they follow a trail of posters with arrows on them to the living room(im pretty sure they dont call it that but the room with the computer in it is where they always hang out so that’s what i mean awsedfvgbh)

everyone yells “SURPRISE” when they walk in and julian is sure he’s in a permanent state of shock

like yes he just followed an entire trail of arrows to get here but it’s still so much more than he expected

they eat pizza and play music and all just hang out and it’s a fun time

at one point julian goes to adjust his crown but everyone thought he was taking it off and yelled at him aesdxcfvgbh

they play stupid party games like pin the tail on the donkey(which theyre all good at since theyre shadowhunters asdfghjui) and charades and stuff like that

everyone gives julian more presents and he thinks he might combust

they sing to him and have cake

they give him one more gift after they sing and it’s a photo album of julian and his siblings and emma through the years

there are ones of baby emma and jules playing to 12 year old julian intently speaking to ty and livvy to 14 year old julian reading with tavvy to 17 year old julian laughing with dru to ones with helen, mark, aline, and cristina in them and ones from the travel year and julian is amazed

he’s so touched and he’s proud that he only cries a little

a little after that everyone starts getting tired since they stayed up until midnight the night before

diana goes home, tavvy goes to bed, followed by dru and ty shortly after

when julian hugs ty on his way out he almost feels like livvy is there too, and he doesnt understand why ty goes pale when julian tells him, julian worries he shouldnt have said anything before ty just smiles and says “good” before walking out

everyone else goes to bed shortly after

julian and emma are laying in julian’s bed when she pulls out a card for him, but tells him it’s nothing special

he opens it and begs to differ

the front of the card says “so many ways to say i love you” and she has filled the inside with ways she said it over the years

“protecting you in fights”

“i’ll put the kids to bed tonight”

“i would do anything for you, jules”

“we’re parabatai, we can do this”(julian doesnt like this one)

“take a break”

“please stay”

“i need you”

“your hair is a mess”(“really emma? “shut up”)

the list goes on until it ends with “i love you. love, emma”

they are both crying at the end

“i love you so much, emma”

“i love you, t––”

she doesnt get to finish

they have more important things to get to and, needless to say, they dont get much sleep that night either

[roseamongroses]

Antithesis (4): “these are a few of my favorite things”

Summary: For their Junior project, Roman is unceremoniously paired with Dmitri.

He’s hardly interacted with the guy, a strange occurrence since Virgil has had a weird/unexplained hate-hate relationship with him since middle-school. But it isn’t like he’s complaining. Dmitri’s cute, he compliments Roman, and damn can he paint.So Roman may or may not catch feelings, and he may not be wiling to uncatch them anytime soon.

–Dmitri returns the sentiment.

[General Warnings:] Misgendering, Past Misgendering, Past Bullying, Mild Sexual Content,  implied emotional abuse, Cursing[Tags/mood:] highschool au, project troupe, fluff and angst but its all good, chat fic, teen stress, its flordia no snow we die like men[Pairing:] Roceit (Roman Sanders/ Deceit Sanders), hinted future/possible logince/roloceit/loceit [Characters] Roman Sanders/Deceit (Dmitri) Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy (Sleep) Sanders, Nate Sanders, Dragon Witch (Diana)

(1)(2)(3) (4) (5)

Rem: im sorry patton but no, absolutely not, unfriended, blocked, deleted

Patton: :( But I’m right tho

Rem: the day i accept that is the day i wilingingly give up my crop tops for a sensible polo shirts, cargo shorts, boat shoes, and white socks

Ro: patton hon is he being mean? do i need to get rid of him?

Rem: IVE KNOWN YOU LONGER, SINCE WE WERE BUT BABS , I SHOULD BE HIGHER ON THAT PRIORITY LIST BUCKO

Rem: plus you wont be all knight in shining armor once you find out patton thinks flordia is apart of the south (™)

Ro: …..

Ro: patton you’re blocked.

Patt: D:

V: sorry im never anti patton, you fake friend

V:I mean he’s not technically wrong?

V: the redneck culture does exist here, we have relatively similar dialects, similar weather

Patt: !!!!

Ro: patt the day i actually block you is the day the moon does like it does in umbrella academy, but v you’re on thin fucking ice

V: bitch i broke the ice years ago, you only unblocked me cause mom told you to

Rem: spOILERS

Ro: shhhh

Ro: and the GRACE PERIOD WAS OVER LAST YEAR YOU OLD MAN

Rem: I TAKE MY TIME OK

Ro: excuses excuses

V: so im assuming i won this arguement for patt right?

Ro: no. and like legit v that only applies to like,,,,parts of flordia,,,the northern part mainly but like only parts

Ro: flordia might be similar but like,,,,it's historically, culturally, geographically, and politically different then other states that are called southern states,,, t

Ro: just asked a southern boy bout it he said, “fuck no, it's a spanish colony,”

V:what about Texas huH

Ro: Texas was a whole ass country at one point, texas still acts like it’s a country, Texas is whatever Texas wants to be

V: I wish I could annex myself from this class work

Lo: God, mood.

---

“Oh, I could kiss you,” Roman said, as soon as Dmitri turned around to hand him the icecream cone. The stand was small, the old lady running it, giving them a cheerful goodbye.

When Dmitri said the museum wasn’t stuffy, it was quite literally outside. Seashell decorated pathways stretched and weaved through elaborate gardens.

Everywhere was a sight to behold, from the blossom of flowers dripping every color imaginable to trees that might as well have been sprawling giants, often dipping into the path way in a tangled, ivies creeping up it's weathered branches. In the midsts of it all, sculptures were effortlessly woven into the park, abstract student projects and places of memory creating almost a cohesive story amongst the beautiful chaos.

“Dee, when I said take me anywhere,” Roman licked his ice cream greedily, “I thought we’d go to like a starbucks- not a park more attractive than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“So the way to your heart is food and pretty things?” Dmitri smiled.

“You bet your ass it is,” Roman said, leading them down a trail with less people, “My first crush was on this dude who gave me a seashell, I went home and told Momma and Mom I wanted marriage.”

Dmitri sipped his own water, “Do you still have it?”

“Of course, it was a gift, ” Roman hummed, “‘Bout cried when I got it,” He looked up to see Dmitri staring at him, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

Dmitri didn’t look away, “No, you just don’t have the right to be so fuckin’ adorable.” He said as if fact.

“How is me being a a hoarding goblin adorable?” Roman said, suddenly very conscious that he did not in fact want Dmitri to stop looking at him, but also very much aware that he might combust if Dmitri didn’t stop.

“Huh, are you embarrassed again?” Dmitri laughed, voice pleasant. “My aunt never keeps anything I gave her, it’s nice that you do...” He explained.

“Oh.”

—-

<3BestofMoms<3: Ro, do we need anything at the store?

R: v sent a list through notes this morning

<3BestofMoms<3: Okay, found it, thanks <3

R: np <3

<3BestofMoms<3: Are you going to be back for dinner or is that boy gunna be hogging you all day? I'm not quite sure he has earned the gift that is all day roman time

R:mommmm

<3BestofMoms<3: :)

---

As the sun stretched across the sky, the two had wandered into the more shadowed parts of the park. Roman’s initial giddiness slipping in a more lethargic satisfaction as he explored as much as he could, Dmitri’s eagerness to show him around and introduce him to the park’s employees hardly faltering.

Dmitri glanced at the time, “You ready to head back?”

Roman was crouched, admiring the tiny statues of walking fish, “No, I want to live here,” he said, “But why? Does she need you to do something?” He fumbled with the buttons of his shirt as he stood up, because dammit, clothes are hard and the sun is hot, okay?

“No, she thinks I’m studying for a class I told her I dropped, ” He said, “You just seem tired.”

“I am no--” Roman scrunched his nose, “The fuck, Dmitri, I am tired.” he narrowed his eyes, “How did you know that, I didn’t even know that.”

Dmtir made a show of looking Roman up and down, “I just knew,” He did not elaborate, and Roman made a sound that was vaguely alarmed in nature.

“V was right, you’re the worst, won’t even teach me your fancy magic tricks,” Roman grumbled, taking Dmitri's hand, and tucking himself under their arm.

“Somebody's grumpy, you sure you don’t want me to take you home?”

“I’m sure,” Roman, swayed a bit, “We don’t even need to stay here...”

He sighed, “I don’t know you seem pretty….”

“Dm-itri,” Roman murmured slow, with a half smile, and Dmitri’s mouth dried.

“Roman…”

“Please?”

“You’re practically falling over yourself,” Dmitri said, “You know we can always come back?”

Roman’s eyes perked up at that, “It's a date.” he said, and Dmitri couldn’t stop himself from flushing and looking away. 

He liked that a bit too much.

!!!taglist!!!

@daflangstlairde

[ofwrittenlegacy]

Another Year Around the Sun

Inspired by a tumblr post I read. Read this Tony birthday fanfic on AO3. 

Another year around the sun, he thought, and another year closer to dentures. 

Tony stalled as he padded towards the common room in the penthouse.

“Oh my God, I’m old.” Tony muttered to himself, shaking his head. It was his birthday. May 29th, his 49th birthday. He could feel it in his bones, in each crackle and pop wished him another happy birthday. Tony sighed around the lip of his mug, taking a sip of his Americano. He collapsed on the couch, preparing to spend his birthday in well deserved silence. Steve was upstate with Barnes and Sam, Pepper was in meeting all day, Romanov and Barton fucked off to Bolivia earlier that week. Thor was in one of the nine realms and he...he actually couldn’t account for his Spider-baby.

Just as he lifted his phone to check in on the kid, a noise caught his attention. Faintly…

Tap! Tap! Tap!

Tony looked up. Hanging off the side of Stark Tower, the sixth level window to the penthouse hung Peter Parker, clad in a red and blue onesie Spiderman costume. Tony snorted, setting down his mug and his phone. He walked over to the window and slid open the threshold.

Peter webbed himself inside and landed in a crouch. Tony’s jointed groaned in sympathy reminding him that he was old. I’m getting so close to fucking dentures…

“Why can’t you use a door like a regular person? There’s ample ways to get in here that don’t require scaling the side of my residence, Underoos.”

“What’s the fun of having enhanced abilities if I don’t get to use them?” Peter replied, peeling the mask off of his face. His chestnut locks stood wildly askew all over his head as if it had recently been washed and was air drying beneath the mask.

Tony huffed, amusedly.

“So,” Peter continued, tugging at the arms of his Spiderman suit. Tony watched as he struggled and tugged and finally stripped down to the jeans and tshirt he wore beneath the suit. That...couldn’t possibly be comfortable, Tony decided. “It’s your birthday.”

“Is that a speculation or do you know that for a fact?”

Peter blinked up at him with caramel eyes, the size of moons. “It’s your birthday, Mr. Stark. I’ve had it on my calendar for like...years.”

Tony’s mouth twitched and the corner of his eyes crinkled as he placed a hand on the small of Peter’s back and ushered him to the couch. “I don’t know if you want me to be endeared or a little scared…”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groaned.

Tony gesticulated, silencing Peter’s whines. Peter’s forehead creased and Tony snickered.

“Okay, yeah. It’s my birthday kid. Why’s that got you hanging off the side of my building at…” Tony checked his watch. “10:27 in the morning.”

“Because,” Peter exclaimed, jerked up, spreading his arms wide. “We have to celebrate! I have presents!”

Tony paled. He would never get used to people dedicating a whole day to celebrate his existence, something he didn’t ask for. His mouth set into a hard line and he made a steeple out of his hands. “Pete,” he started. “You really shouldn’t have.”

Beaming with a lopsided grin that made Tony feel warm inside, Peter gave him a dismissive wave. “See, I knew you’d say that. So I didn’t. May did.” Peter dug around in his pocket and tugged out an envelope. He thrusted it towards Tony who hesitantly took it from his hands.

“Peter, I can’t-”

Peter blew out his cheeks. “Mr. Stark,” he sounded exasperated. “Just open it.”

“Alright, alright.” Damn, the kid looked like he was about to go into a temper tantrum if Tony delayed any longer so he tore the corner of the white paper and ripped the side of the envelope off. He slipped out the card.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR. STARK!

Was written on the front in big round letters, the marker stroke thick and heavy handed as he had seen Peter do before. Beneath the words was a scribbled doodle of Iron Man wearing a birthday hat and holding a cake that read “Birthday Boy”.

Tony’s features lit up. “Oh...Pete…”

“You didn’t even open it, Mr. Stark!”

Tony’s mouth formed a little “oh” and he opened the card. A disk fell out. He bent over, grunting as he picked the CD up.

“What is this?”

“I have no clue. May wouldn’t tell me.”

Tony nodded and walked over to the DVD player and placed the CD inside. Before hitting play, he turned his attention back to the card.

Before there was Spiderman, there was just a little boy with a big heart and a favorite superhero. Thank you for all you do for Peter. You have saved the Parker family countless times, before you even knew our names. Keep saving, keep loving and keep inspiring little kids with Avengers pajamas.

Happy 45th,

May Parker.

Tony grinned down at the yellow construction paper and clutched it to his chest. He silently took a seat next to Peter. “FRI, press play.”

The camera was fuzzy at first. The cameraman was shuffling around what seemed to be a living room.

“Pete!” The camera focused and displayed the disastrous room before them. Christmas paper was strewn across the floor, empty boxes piled in the corner. Trash bags were strategically placed around, filled with tape and paper remnants.

A little boy scrambled into the camera’s frame and the camera unsteadily zoomed out. The grainy image cleared the young boy stood there in red and gold Iron Man pajamas with a red blanket tied around his neck like a cape. The boy had a round face, his cheeks full and rosy. He had huge dimples indenting each cheek, and his jewel like eyes took up a large portion of his little face. His crystal clear hazel eyes twinkled with joy, and he squealed. It was apparent only when he smiled really wide that his two front teeth were missing.

“FRIDAY, turn this off please.” Peter begged beside Tony, his eyes going wide with recognition. Tony scowled.

“FRIDAY do not touch this.”

The video played on.

“What’d you get for Christmas, Pete?”

Peter made explosion noises as he flew the doll into the camera. “It’s Iron Man!” He hugged the figurine close. “I’ve wanted one of these for so long! It even makes noise!” Peter pressed the chest of the doll.

“I am Iron Man.” The doll said.

Tony cringed.

“Do you love Iron Man?”

“I love Iron Man with my whole entire heart. He is the best superhero ever! He keeps everyone safe, and he can fly and he even lives right here! I want to be like Iron Man when I grow up. I want to save people and fight crime and make e-explosions!” The cameraman chuckled at how awfully Peter butchered “explosions”.

“Well, merry Christmas, Pete.”

“Thanks Uncle Ben.” Peter hugged the figurine to his chest. “I love Iron Man. I hope Iron Man has good Christmas presents. He deserves extra presents from Santa. Do you think he was on the nice list this year?”

“I think so,” Uncle Ben agreed.

“Good. I love him.” Peter jutted his hand out and made a swooshing sound. “He’s taking off to save the city.” Peter swung his hand wildly, sending his Iron Man up and around in all different directions. “Hey, Uncle Ben…” Peter toddled over to the camera, his little button nose impossibly close to the lense.

“Mm?”

“Do you think I can be like Mr. Tony Stark one day?”

“You can be whatever you want to be, Peter.”

It grew quiet, until,

“Peter! Ben! Dinner’s ready!” May. The camera grew shaky and the last thing that was seen was Peter sprinting off, his red cape billowing behind him.

Then the video cut out.

There was silence for a while. Tony and Peter sat there and breathed it in. When Tony turned to the younger male, Peter was frozen where he sat. A blush had crept up his face so aggressively, Tony pondered if he was blushing down to his toes. Boy Wonder swallowed hard and Tony grew concerned he might pass out.

“Iron Man doesn’t wear a cape.”

Peter blinked as if coming out of a daze. “I want to curl up and die.”

Awe continued to transform Tony’s face, a joy he had never experienced before burning bright within him. “Hey Pete,” he called. The boy turned to regard him with a grimace. “You are much better than Iron Man. Little Peter would be proud of you.”

Tony didn’t think he could get much redder but somehow he did. Peter hung his hand. “T-Thanks, Mr. Stark. I didn’t know May put that in there. I-- She-- It’s not--...that’s so embarrassing.”

Tony wordlessly tugged the boy into a hug. He didn’t trust himself to speak as his throat seized up with emotion. His eyes burned with fresh tears and he didn’t let Peter go until he got ahold of the wild fluctuation of feelings.

“You don’t know how much that video means to me, Pete.” Tony finally said, pulling away.

Peter turned his innocent gaze on him and Tony thought he might just combust. He still looked like that little boy. More lanky, and a little more freckled but his eyes still glinted with purity. He was just a kid. He was just Tony’s kid.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tony ruffled his hair. Peter laughed.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Stark.”

“Thanks kiddo.”

And it was on Tony’s 45th birthday that he realized maybe Iron Man did make a difference. Maybe...just maybe he was making a difference.