#i ended up ranting in these tags again and had to delete it all cause it was too long and overshary

[amethystfairy1]

I rewrote my novel. Admittedly I deleted it because it felt like it was me ranting and you wouldn’t enjoy it, but it made me feel good that you wanted to read a random person’s analysis.

To get out of the way first is the potential wild card invisible stalker. I saw some people speculating it was Mumbo because that seems like a rogue ability, but there’s no reason for him to have been stalking this group he barely knows instead of be with his own. I think it’s a new character, which you didn’t tag either for spoilers or because they don’t truly appear in this story. The latter is my guess, and their purpose is to be another thing hanging over Gem’s group as they go into the fight. As to who they are, because of that recent post on spoilers and the ninja thing, I’m going to guess Etho. The “why” for whoever it is is “to be revealed” information.

Next, the bird reunion. Based on that summary, they have to fight and it’ll definitely be intense. My guess is either during the pre-fight banter between the others or when they first come in contact and a failed sneak attack, the twins will recognize each other, hesitate, but go into the fight anyway because that’s what their friends/masters want. Major cognitive dissonance. I predicted one would get the upper hand and almost, but not quite, finish the other, but more specifically I think Grian will beat Pearl because she’s still injured. If I was writing it, he’d notice the injury, target it because that’s what a good killer does, and simultaneously hate himself for it. And then more delicious angst because a good avian would finish her off, but he can’t do it.

Meanwhile, I think Gem would be fighting the other two. She says in the first chapter that she’s low on magic, but she’s scary enough without the spirits. If I had to guess, I’d say she could normally solo everyone in the other group (not without difficulty, but would win in the end), but it would be the combination that could get her. Scar is also running low on magic, but we don’t know how the two compare. I don’t think we’ve seen Scar fight without magic either, so he could quickly empty his reserves. Mumbo is a very scary opponent and has the element of surprise, but I’m not sure how he’d stack up in a brawl. Judging by that summary of him nearly dying, I’m not optimistic. Scar has previously detected enemies with the spirits, but it’d be interesting to see if another nature elf can go undetected with their own magic. Then it’d be up to Grian to notice them when they’re pretty close, if he’s in a state of mind to do so effectively.

Speaking of state of mind, that was just them physically. Mentally no one is doing well. Mumbo and Scar are worried about Grian and are probably mulling over the target they painted on their backs. Gem is stressed out about the stalker, always worried about Pearl, and her guilt and frustration are turning to rage. That could all cloud her fighting abilities, but so could that empathy she’s trying to shut down. Recognizing Mumbo could give her pause, as could seeing Pearl in Grian and herself in the other boys. A vision just came to me of Grian using his wings to protect one of them from Gem and that causing her to stop. I could also see her stopping if she thought Pearl was about to die again. Both sides would stop if one of the avians admitted they’re siblings, but I can’t see them forcing that information out in the middle of a fight. I think the fight will end with one side recognizing themselves in the other and choosing not to continue. Then we can get a more wholesome birb reconnecting.

The thing I’m less sure about is Impulse and Skizz. I don’t quite know if they’d even participate in the fight or how that would go. I can easily see Impulse deciding not to participate because it’s not his job and he wants to protect Skizz, or him going with the group and being worried about Pearl with this job. If they do participate, that weighs things more in the favor of the Soup Group. From what we’ve seen, Impulse is strong and can tear through normal adventurers. Of course the boys are much stronger, but I’d expect him to hold his own. Skizz is a little more tricky. If he fully fights, I’d expect he’d be a beast. He was nearly retained, so he had serious skills, the only concern would be how much fighting he’s done since being sold. Granted, that didn’t seem to hold Grian back. I doubt Skizz’s heart would be in this fight though, and he’d be looking more to see if Impulse will die or if he can kill him. That won’t happen of course. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if a moment comes and Skizz either saves Impulse or doesn’t take the kill, and later has to ask himself why.

So, yeah. That’s my thoughts on what I think is being set up for this story. You don’t have to respond to this. Now I know that even if you don’t, you still enjoyed it. I look forward to seeing if I’m right or be proven wrong. Doubt I’ll be disappointed either way.

I

LOVED

THIS

SO MUCH

RAHHHHHHH

This is so so so so sooooo cool!?

Obviously I'm not gonna super in-depth respond to any of your predictions because I don't wanna give any tells because spoilers but I need you to know that I LOVED THIS.

I WAS BEAMING THE ENTIRE TIME I READ IT

It just makes me SO happy that my stories have the moving parts that make someone able to think it through and come up with theories about what's gonna happen, and that you enjoy the story enough to do so just makes me so very glad! Thank you so much for retyping your novel because I ADORED IT and I will be saving it and I love it very very very much!!!

I'm so glad you're looking forward to this fic, I have so much planned and lots is gonna happen, I'm just SO excited to share it all and it's so wonderful to see everyone is trying to figure out what's gonna go down!

Thank you thank you thank you for sharing!!! 💖💖💖

[homophyte]

the idea that i have purposefully avoided doing anything in public so i could, idk, get away with something, is really odd considering that i have archived public conversations with you on my blog where you wiped this entire blog youre messaging me from of all my, again, public, replies to your post but like, okay. also a really weird way to frame me repeatedly saying to you 'i dont want anything to do with you' and trying to not be involved but you continuing to antagonize and talk about me, as youre literally doing here, causing me to go back on my word to not reach out to again tell you what youre doing is fucked up. anything ive said to you in private i will stand by in public. i do not think i have said anything disproportionate to you, if anything ive been exceedingly sentimental trying to empathize about a shared issue while you are literally right now throwing that fact in my face super uncool-ly!! especially in light of the fact that youve kept this stalking and harassment campaign going, again, longer than you were ever friends with any of us to begin with.

but you wanna make this public? okay, lets make this public.

a close friend of mine (who is remaining anonymous and has already deleted their blog literally today because of this) made a tumblr a few months ago on my advice to check it out and see how they liked it. they used this tumblr really scantly, but during the time they had it, liked a grand total of two posts ever. wanna see em? theyre these.

youll note that second post mentions dante by name, and my friends liking of that post is its only note. youll also note that the only two posts on their blog are these interactions:

the first of which was sent only days after they liked the post mentioning dante.

that blog, despite never posting besides this, never liking anything but two personal posts i made, and following exactly three people all of whom were friends, is somehow blocked by both the disgustedorite blog and asterineae.

so pretend youre me and my friend, who had long ago written off this interaction as random and odd only to discover today while trying to access the post you tagged me in, screenshotted above, from their computer that you had mysteriously had them blocked, despite never having had an interaction with them or even cause to know who the hell they were. pretend youre me, faced again with evidence that you meticulously watch and catalog everything i say to the point you hunt down anyone even tangentally related to dante, by a single like, on a single post i made, mentioning them offhand.

and then you tell me which of us has a problem to deal with. because i spent today not reading your long ass stupid ass rant, not block evading to look at what youre saying about me, not obsessing over the smallest details of people who you were barely acquaintances with, over two years ago.

im not going to read your long ass rant post. ive made it abundantly clear that i dont give a shit what you have to say or the narratives you invent to justify your actions. those actions are, as far as im concerned, not fucking justifiable, and you need to keep inventing more to get even close, and even then you still have to change the subject, because everything you have done has been that far out of proportion. again: stalking and harassment for longer than you were ever on friendly terms with us. im not going to let you goad me so you can pretend that im starting it, so that you can screenshot it and whine about me attacking you in private where nobody can see. the gambit is fucking laughable. here it is! you want people to see!

i spent today with a good friend of mine, and for an hour at the end, we went 'damn, what the hell is wrong with her,' deleted a barely-used tumblr blog, and went about our way, which is evidently something you have demonstated that you incapable of fucking doing. so im gonna ask you again to leave me the fuck alone, and im again gonna block you on asterineae, which i already had done, because i know youre gonna block evade to see this shit anyway. piss off you fucking mega loser and stop making what you choose to jerk off to my goddamn problem via repeated harassment. jesus fucking christ

[melancholic-hues]

spectators of this dance

posted on AO3

kafblade week 2024: prompt - to build a home

fandom - honkai: star rail

rating - general audiences

warning - no warnings apply

category - f/m ; gen

pairings - blade/kafka ; blade & kafka & sam & silver wolf

tags - kafblade week 2024 ; out of character ; maybe? ; stellaron hunters as found family

word count - 2485 words

-

Silver Wolf does not like beating around the bush. That is an established fact, and her bluntness is often commented on by her fellow Stellaron Hunters. Namely Kafka, sometimes Blade. Sam just notes how blunt she’s being, stating them as facts that are just as true as the universe is vast and not really holding much personal opinion behind them.

But, you know who is beating around the bush? Like, a whole lot? Like, enough to get on her nerves? Nothing gets on her nerves more than Herta’s puppets and that damn Screwllum robot. Yes, she is still salty for the deletion of her game accounts.

Kafka and Blade. They are beating around the bush.

She swears to all the Aeons out there, it can’t be a coincidence how many times those two get assigned to the same missions more often than she can count. Elio literally has to be in on the trickery here. She simply refuses to believe it’s all “destiny” and “it’s what the script says” out there.

Anyway. Back to these two lovebirds.

Silver Wolf flicks her gaze to Kafka from her game console then back to her game. Kafka and Blade just got back from a mission. Well, Kafka did purposefully prolong their mission to go to a night market with Blade. Kafka is telling her all about it now.

For someone as collected and calm on the outside, Kafka is a legit mess of a woman on the inside. Silver Wolf found it funny at first; how sappy and cheesy with love the other Hunter can get when it comes to romance. Personally, she cannot relate.

Kafka hugs Silver Wolf’s pillow and sits up on her bed, legs crossed. The woman had taken off her work clothes and immediately came to Silver Wolf’s room to rant about whatever it was she was going through on Earth.

The three million something (a huge exaggeration) shopping bags sitting at the edge of her bed says a lot. Two of which are sitting on Silver Wolf’s desk filled with various games and posters and figurines.

“Wolfie,” Kafka says. “He took all of these bags from me without asking.”

“And it must’ve clipped off his arm from all the weight,” Silver Wolf drawls, hoping to drench her words in as much disdain and boredom as possible. She needs to focus on her game and not someone’s personal, love-related problems.

“Bladie’s strong enough to carry everything on one arm,” Kafka brushes her remark off like it’s nothing. “He carries all of your packages for you, no?”

Silver Wolf shrugs, her brows furrowed and lips downturned. He does, whenever she manages to convince him to go to the nearest video game store. They usually end up spending a few hundred, sometimes a couple thousand, credits at these stores. Blade always pays for her, even though she can very well hack some credits into existence.

“Except when Sam’s around,” Silver Wolf says instead.

Kafka is unfazed. Again. Nothing can stop this woman when she’s In The Zone like this. Though Silver Wolf isn’t sure what particularly causes her to be In The Zone. “He took them! Without asking! Sometimes directly from the shop owner’s hands! Wolfie, that is another level of manners, do you understand?”

And Kafka still persists that their relationship is purely professional, and that they are friends. Which is, Silver Wolf will give her credit for that, better than saying co-workers. But. Still. Still, still, still.

“And then, then, we went to this little trinket stand. I bought this — ” Kafka holds up a keychain with two cats and some cute snack accessories attached — “For him. It came in a pair of two. I also got him this little crystal statue of spiders, since you said how spiders are my entire theme. The woman at the stand eyed Bladie and assumed he would be the one paying. I didn’t want Bladie to feel pressured about it, you know?”

Kafka drones on and on about this, so Silver Wolf just tunes her out to focus on her game instead. It’s shocking how she can act so sly and threatening just by standing still but be this complete chatterbox (from what Silver Wolf has gathered, all of this chatting is exclusive to her only, which, why). It’s annoying, that’s what.

“When I turned back from the fireworks,” Kafka rambles, “He was there. All of the bags in one arm. A vinyl and a box of chocolates in the other. Wolfie. Are you hearing this right now?”

The round ends, and she is given a few seconds of intermission. “Yes, yes, yes, I am hearing all of this, okay?” Silver Wolf groans, throwing her head back in her gaming chair and arms splayed on the armrests. She is careful not to drop her expensive gaming console onto her carpeted floor. Console screens are crazy fragile these days.

“I was just saying,” the other clasps her gloved hands together, “He gave me ‘Interstellar Journey.’”

Silver Wolf shuts her game console out of shock. “What?”

“I know !” Kafka makes a noise that’s awfully similar to a squeal with the vinyl and box of chocolates in her lap. She hands the vinyl oh so carefully to Silver Wolf. “He left me to get chocolates and to find me ‘Interstellar Journey’! The only copy in the little tent! Isn’t that so wonderful of him, Wolfie ~”

Silver Wolf’s initial shock dies down, her hands pinching the sides of the vinyl. Does — does Kafka know that isn’t platonic? Or is she aware and is just avoiding facing the real issue? What is she even so afraid of? What? 

She stares at Kafka, dumbfounded. “What.”

“He’s a great person, you know. Underneath all that coldness, he’s actually quite shy and awkward,” Kafka continues, opening the box of chocolates. The box is quite ordinary: pink cardboard with plastic inside to separate the different types of chocolate. There are chocolates varying in color, shapes, and sizes; a piece of paper the size of the cover falls out with images and descriptions of each chocolate.

“Where did he find the vinyl?” Silver Wolf asks, nudging her hovering gaming chair closer to Kafka to take a look at the vinyl. She isn’t that interested in the song or the vinyl; she’s just curious as to how exactly Blade got his hands on a physical copy of it. Even she isn’t able to hack it into existence because of how limited it is outside of Earth; yet, he is able to just, like, grab it in a local night market? No way.

“On the floor,” Kafka reveals.

“On the floor,” Silver Wolf deadpans, her brows raised in an “are you serious?” manner.

“I know! How did we not see that, no idea. But! And then I held his hand!” Kafka’s eyes gleam in the hazy glow of Silver Wolf’s neon light signs hung all over her room.

Wait, what? Wait. Silver Wolf waves both her hands, sitting up in her gaming chair. “You held his hand?” she splutters. What in the name of IX? What in the name of Nanook? What in the name of Destiny’s Slave, as cryptic as they are?

“He was so gentle. A weapon, Wolfie, think about it. A man who has turned himself into nothing more than a blade, who’s fights are such a pleasure to watch, holding your hand like it’s a fragile porcelain doll. Do you understand, Wolfie?” Kafka chats, completely unaware of Silver Wolf’s comments.

She lays down on Silver Wolf’s mattress, the back of her hand resting on her forehead, letting out a dreamy sigh. Silver Wolf gags. Kafka turns her head to look at her, a smug smile on her bold red lips.

“Please never talk about this again,” Silver Wolf says, hoping she conveys enough disgust and disdain and agony. To her, this is like seeing two people kiss, except there aren’t two people, and the two people are playing this bo-o-oring game of will-they-won’t-they.

Kafka doesn’t listen. She starts droning on about Blade holding her hand back and datamines the Aeons out of that small action. Seriously, it’s not that deep. He obviously likes Kafka. Kafka obviously likes him back. 

Silver Wolf doesn’t tell them though. No matter how annoying it is. Let them find out for themselves. From personal experience, they are both extremely, annoyingly stubborn, and she, frankly, does not want to lose a limb from trying to convince either of them to confess. Haven’t tried the latter one before. Not planning to.

Kafka pops a chocolate in her mouth. “And it’s delicious too ~ What a gentleman with taste.” The other is so deep in denial that she’s drowning in it. It’s almost stupid, how ridiculous it is.

“Kafka — ”

“Wolfie, do you know the possibilities behind him buying me chocolates?”

SIlver Wolf’s eye twitches so violently she has to press on it to stop.

“Kafka.”

“He actually listens to me, Wolfie. Wolfie, whatever shall I do about this — ”

“SHUT UP, KAFKA.”

***

Sam’s internal engines tick, and he patiently sits on the couch, reading a book. He acutely senses heat traveling through the bundle of wires and such forces he is made up of, emitting a low, faint buzz if one is to listen close enough.

Kafka and Blade have returned from a mission on this Earth planet approximately four system hours ago. It only took them twenty minutes to report back to Destiny’s slave.

Now, Kafka and Silver Wolf are most likely, with an eighty-percent accuracy, in Silver Wolf’s room. This is a common pattern for Kafka, and the probability only gets significantly higher when she returns with shopping bags, unless Silver Wolf is annoyed or really anticipates downloading and playing any new games she bought.

Speaking of shopping bags, the two had returned with Blade carrying quite a lot of them. Sam had scanned the two over for any injuries, then the bags for any suspicious material. There were none, mostly filled with clothes and more items for the entire group, and the two were free to continue to Elio.

Sam scans the page of the current Earthian novel — Twilight , the cover reads — he is reading. The two bags with the rest of the novels Kafka has bought for him are leaning against a leg of the coffee table in the center of their common room. The writing quality is in no way professional, and he will go as far to say it is subpar. The characters are terribly written, all “toxic” by human standards. But it’s captivating, and that’s the bare string that’s keeping him engaged.

Blade shifts in his spot, again, on the couch opposite to Sam’s. Sam looks up from his book. The immortal has been like this ever since he settled on the couch to meditate. Blade often meditates whenever he and Sam are alone or in the privacy of his own room. Today, though, he is not at all calm.

Sam closes his book, the sound of the book snapping shut alerting Blade instantly. The man’s eyes crack open, red eyes staring at him with his head slightly tilted in question.

“There is something abnormal about your behavior, Blade,” Sam speaks, voice gruff in the usual automaton manner. His statement is true — Blade can go for hours without moving once he is at peace. The longest he has gone without moving is fifty-three system minutes. Not even an hour.

“It… is the fireworks,” Blade explains, “From Earth.”

“It is not just the fireworks. Your hormones are mixed, and your blood vessels in the head area are widened. You are either flustered or embarrassed, or a combination of both,” Sam states, scanning Blade twice over for any signs of mara activity or other eccentric internal behavior. “I have not missed any internal wounds, and even if there are any, they should’ve healed by now. What is wrong?”

Blade’s hands reach up to touch his neck, ears, then cheeks. These areas are all mildly red. “Nothing.”

“False.”

“It’s something foolish. I will get over it,” Blade says, eyes fluttering closed again. But Sam is not yet done with the conversation. Blade is rarely flustered; something drastic must’ve happened. Sam is concerned.

Sam continues to stare at Blade. He sees it: a new accessory, far too colorful to complete the rest of Blade’s usual oriental-style outfit. Two cats, each with a flower-shaped cake covering as a hat, hanging off a keychain clipped onto the left chest area of Blade’s clothing, amongst other acrylic sweets charms. That is all.

Blade brows dip, and he slowly opens his eyes again, frowning. The man follows Sam’s gaze before the automaton can pull it away, and his eyes briefly widen.

“Is that from Kafka?” Sam asks.

“Yes,” Blade admits, and he turns more red. That’s his answer; his investigation is complete.

Sam is not typically one to dredge into other peoples’ business. He does not care about this situation either. He leaves it at that. Flipping open his book, he continues on the page he left off on.

After a while, with Blade getting distracted several times, the man opens his eyes again and stands. Sam’s gaze flickers to him, then back to his book.

“Sam,” Blade calls, body turned away from him and avoiding eye contact.

Sam looks at him. “Yes?”

“Does… does Kafka like chocolate?”

Sam looks down at the floor, sifting through all of the data in his memory storage. He is still as he searches for any relevant information regarding Blade’s request.

“Mmm ~ Wolfie, these chocolates are good ~ ”

“I know, my favorite.”

“These are marvelous in flavor. I love chocolates. Have you heard of — ”

Sam finishes replaying the recording, his voice mimication system impeccable. 

Blade tightly nods. “Thank you.”

“Your heart rate spikes whenever Kafka is mentioned,” Sam notes when Blade is almost out of earshot.

The man pauses in his step, then strives forward like he heard nothing.

Sam knows.

***

“Have you noticed Blade and Kafka, recently?” Silver Wolf mentions out of nowhere, sliding down the armrest of the sofa as her fingers nimbly toys with the joysticks on the console. Her bubblegum pops, and her chewing is atrociously obnoxious.

Sam employs his characters’ ultimate before responding, “What about them?” He scans the television set and the game mechanics, carefully calculating his next moves for maximum efficiency and damage output.

“Haven’t you noticed how different they kind of… act around each other?” Silver Wolf’s brows furrow. “Kill that! Come on!” She groans, dragging it out.

“You used two fire characters against another fire-type enemy, and I was preoccupied with the other enemies. Perhaps think about your character choices before urging me to save you,” Sam replies, trained on the game.

“I think… hey, you haven’t answered my question,” Silver Wolf rolls around, laying on her stomach. “Have you?”

“Yes.”

“We should do something about it.”

“Do what, exactly?”

Silver Wolf grins.

[tepli-mravenci]

do you ever have a problem you want to vent about on tumblr so you start writing the post but you end up ranting so much that by the time you finish the post you've had an epiphany and basically solved whatever problem you had and now you're like well I don't have to post this anymore cause the problem is gone so you just delete the post and the world will never know

[wisconsin2002]

(Okay I'll keep this Short cause I'm annoyed as I had a better written post earlier for this topic but tumblr had an error and all my shit got deleted and I can't be bothered to write it all again as I just don't care all that much anymore) very well then lets continue

"ANDREA IS NOT LIKE AMITY BLIGHT!"

Thank you. I Almost forgot to hear that for the 455th time in this fandom.

Okay let me make things perfectly clear.

If you dont like Andrea. Awesome. I Respect that cause it's your opinion

If you outright hate her and think she should stay a bratty instagram live bitch.

Cool... Sweet...you do you man.

If you're chill and think she's redeemable but not exactly a good person yet.

EVEN BETTER. Completely respect that.

But PLEASE... For the love of lucifer

Don't go to every fucking Mollandrea shipper or Andrea stans looking for small crumbs of content of her and start saying

Idk where that argument even came from and quite frankly idc anymore. I'm just tired of hearing it because

YEAH YOU'RE RIGHT.

Andrea is not Amity.

But that still doesn't stop Andrea from following a path of growth in her life and becoming a more open minded and caring person. Many characters have gone down that path of growth and redemption way before Amity was even written into existence. Or did yall really think that Amity was the first ever character to get a redemption arc? And therefore every character who makes that positive change in their life must be like Amity? Nah fam characters have had and will continue to have redemption arcs way after Amity has completed her story.

Now the other argument I've seen is Mollandrea is taking away attention from Molliby.

(in general. I don't give a flying cockadoodle pickle who Molly ends up with if she ends up with any of the girls. I'm just here to see Andrea grow as a character. But I know there is Mollandrea shippers out there and this next section is in their defense)

Mollandrea is taking away attention from Molliby? Really? 💀

I know yall don't even believe that lie.

You sit here and tell me with a straight face that Mollandrea has had more content and attention than Molliby, even tho Molliby is 95% of content in this fanbase. Yeah I call bullshit.

Mollandrea shippers literally take their asses to Devían art and or Instagram tags to find content of the Ship cause there's little to none here at all. How did yall reach that conclusion? Count the fan arts, fanfics, and on top of that the content of the show itself and you come running back to me and tell me with a straight face Mollandrea has more content and it's taken away attention. Go ahead I'll wait.

Idk man. I wanted to bring up more to this topic to talk about but I've lost the care for this topic when tumblr completely deleted the progress in the post I was working on primarily the first time.

So enjoy this little "rant" I guess. Idk wtf I would call this tbh.

[apricotgojo]

hello love! Can I please request a somewhat spicy sub!chat noir x reader? Maybe where the reader is kinda feeling him up and leaving him hickeys and he’s a purring and moaning mess? Maybe he’s begging her to keep going and who is she to say no to such a sweet baby kitty? If that’s not too much of course😌 tysm

Hello bb ! I hope that this satisfied your sub! Chat needs hehe (i know it satisfied mine so) I really love how this came out and maybe i’m willing on continuing another part from here) Thank you so much for this request ! <3

Pairing: Chat Noir X Reader

Warnings: NSFW, characters are aged up in college here :), swearing.

Tags: Sub!chat, Dry humping, begging.

This is how it all went down. He saved you from an akumatized villain. He flirted. You flirted back. Then you guys started hooking up.

You didn’t understand why Chat Noir would do this with a civilian but like every other person on this planet, he has his needs. He would knock in a pattern on your window so you knew it was him and you would let him in, you’d talk for a bit, ask each other about your day until one of you breaks and pushes the other on the bed or against the wall. He was good in bed. Very good. You knew you’d never grow tired of this affair. To top it all off after you both finished you’d sit in bed and talk about all sorts of things. Aliens, Conspiracy theories about the media, gossip about people and sometimes he’d even play Mario Kart with you.

There were no strings attached. You both made it clear from day one. There couldn’t be. You both didn’t have the time for a relationship, you both didn’t have the energy for one so you simply stuck to the title ‘fuck buddies’ until one of you decides to back out. This night was different though. A smile didn’t appear on your face when you hear the familiar knock on your window because you were stuck cussing at your computer screen and rubbing your head in frustration. You had an essay to explain Shakespeare and his works but for some reason you kept deleting all that you’ve typed because you couldn’t put your thoughts into words.

He knocked again, quickly this time. “I know you’re there, beautiful.” His voice was muffled through the glass.

You huffed and put your laptop on the bed before stomping to the window. You opened it and were met by the hero grinning at you. You, on the other hand, didn’t have a pleased look on your face.

“I’m not in the mood Chat.” You state and were about to close the window again but he held it to stop you from closing it.

“Ma Belle, did I do something wrong?” He asks, a frown on his face.

You shake your head. “No, I just have this stupid essay that I’ve been trying to type out for the past four hours.” You sigh and make your way back to your bed, rubbing your temples.

He follows you inside and closes the window behind him.

“Maybe I can ease your stress for a little bit.” He says, a smirk on his face.

You simply shoot him a glare and he chuckles nervously, putting his hands up in defense.

“Okay. No sex. Got it.” He sits beside you and looks at what you’re typing.

“You know you can leave right? If you’re horny you can go to your other side bitches.” You say as you type away, your eyes glued onto your screen.

Chat purses his lips, like he held himself back from saying something and shook his head.

“Maybe I came here for some company.” He says.

You snort and chuckle. “Yeah right.” You say sarcastically and look at him, but he wasn’t smiling. You gulp and your smile fades away. Did he seriously come over because he feels lonely?

His face was leaning closer to your and you were leaning closer too. No. You had to finish this stupid essay.

“Stop distracting me kitty.” You whisper and kiss his nose quickly before looking back at the screen.

He groans and falls back on the bed, playing with the pillow.

“I can help you if you’re writing about Shakespear, I wro-“ He stops himself from talking and you turn around, quirking your eyebrow at him.

“You wrote an essay like this?” you questioned.

He visibly gulps and shakes his head.

“Do you go to college?” You question further.

He chuckles nervously. “You know I can’t tell you that mon ange.”

You stare at him for a moment before looking back at your screen. You decided not to pry further, he seemed uncomfortable talking about his personal life and you decided to respect his wishes.

Your phone started to ring and you see that it’s your friend from college Marinette. You pick it up.

“Hey Mari.” You say as you type.

“The deadline has been changed to next week!” She exclaims happily.

You were filled with rage.

“what?” You deadpanned.

“Yeah apparently some students asked to change it because they were having difficulties so he changed it to next week instead of tomorrow morning.”

“I literally asked him to extend the deadline three days ago and he refused. I swear to god I want to kill this son of a bitch” You groan and clutch your fist in anger.

She sighs, “I know girl, but hey at least you’ve got more time on your hands!”

Marinette always tried to be positive when she could and you appreciated that but honestly you needed to vent. “Yeah, thanks for letting me know Mari.”

“No problem! Bonne nuit.”

“Bonne nuit.” You sigh out before you end the call.

You groan out in frustration and shut your laptop.

“What happened?” Chat asks.

You get out of your bed and start to pace around.

“I have been working on this essay for the past four days, knowing very well how stupid it was that the deadline was only five days for a two thousand word essay on fucking Shakespeare and when I ask to extend the deadline, the son of a bitch replies with an angry email saying theres enough time and that im just lazy.” You finally breathe and chat was about to say something but you cut him off.

“But when his privileged French pupil ask him to extend the deadline of course he agrees and you know what, I think it was Adrien fucking Agreste who asked him because hes the fucking pretty model boy who has everybody on their knees for him just because of his high status.” You sit down and without realising you start talking about a different subject.

“Yeah, I get it, everybody wants to fuck the pretty blond guy with money, I would too but at least I don’t look like a thirsty bitch every time he talks to me, some girls in my damn college have literally no chill and I swear to god one day I want to make him my bitch, make him weak for me to show those bitches what i’m capable of.” You were breathing heavily at this point and your face was flushed red.

You always thought Adrien was attractive, everyone did but whenever he talked to you, you responded normally to him unlike other people who constantly laughed at everything he said to try and get in his pants. He was a good guy but he was too well known for his own good and it made you uninterested in him. You thought he was out of your league, that’s what those french bitches told you at least. They belittled you just because you’re foreign - you knew they were just jealous that Adrien was always the one to come up to talk to you unlike them.

That was enough ranting for now. You look at Chat who was staring at you wide eyed, his cheeks glowing red.

“You don’t need to say anything, it’s just-“ You look down at his body and notice something. “Chat..why are you hard?”

He crosses his legs over the other awkwardly to try and hide it. “W-What are you talking about?”

You stand up and walk over to him and he walks back until he’s pressed against the wall.

“What? You get hard thinking about me making someone weak?” You whisper to him and he looks away from you. “You want me to do the same to you kitty?” You kiss his ear and he shudders, nodding slowly. Your hand moves down from his chest to his belly and your lips move from his ear to his jaw. Chat tilts his head back and a frenzy of purrs emerge from his parted lips. He was aroused, in a state of euphoria even with your small, light touches. Your hand moved lower until it reached down to the tent he had in his suit. It was painfully tight for him. Your fingertips lightly brushed over the bulge and he cussed under his breath.

“Fuck.” He whispered while you continued to touch his clothed erection and lick up his neck. He kept purring and moaning at the same time. You loved seeing him worked up like this. Your lips latched on to a certain spot on his neck and you sucked on it harshly, nibbling at it when you got the chance and putting more pressure with your hand against him.

He was a mess, grinding against your hand and breathing heavily.

“Ma Belle – merde,” he couldn’t even speak without stuttering. “I want more, please.” He begs and you look up at him, noticing the red mark on his neck and feeling very pleased with yourself.

“More what, kitty?” You whisper and remove your hand from where it was.

He groans in frustration.

“More – I-I want you to touch me more.” He pleads. “Please.”

You smirk at him and pull him to your bed, pushing him back on the bed and getting on his lap. Before he could react you put your lips on his and start to grind on top of him.

He moans against your lips and throws his head back, holding onto your hips for support. You could tell that he wanted to take his clothes off but you wanted him to come right then and there.

Your hips move against his, the friction pleasing you the same, causing you to moan but grin at the worked up blond beneath you.

“Shit, shit I’m close.” He whimpers and closes his eyes, moving his own hips with yours to get more pleasure.

It felt so good but you knew you couldn’t finish with him, maybe you could continue after but your hopes disappeared when you heard the beeping coming from his ring.

“Mon Ange I-“

“Shut up and come for me kitty.” You groan out and quicken your movements causing him to part his lips and hold onto you.

His body shakes and he spews out cuss words in French while he comes undone, thrusting his hips up and whimpering.

You’re both breathing heavily, looking at each other both dazed and tired. You were about to lean in for another kiss but his ring starts beeping furiously.

You hop off of his lap and watch as he groans while he gets up, uncomfortably moving because of the mess he made between his legs.

“I’m sorry I cant finish you off.” He says, pouting at you.

“It’s okay Chat, I think you’ve done enough today.” You wink at him and he chuckles bashfully.

“Until next time Mon ange!” He says and opens the window.

“Bye Kitty.” You blow him a kiss and with that he’s off.

Maybe you could actually finish yourself off to the thought of him being a mess for you but before you could even do anything, your phone beeps and you see a notification from Adrien Agreste.

 “Did you hear that they moved the deadline for the Shakespeare essay? Pissed me off tbh.”

It was like he knew you accused him of something and to top it all off this was the first time he’s ever really texted you. It was weird but maybe you shouldn’t think much of it. Right?

[gisachi]

Hi ^^ I know that your requests are now closed but I was thinking that, given you have written jealous Shinichi, I would very much enjoy some jealous Ran! Maybe you can mix it with one of the prompts? Just throwing the idea out there, no pressure. Delete this if you don't feel like it, it's okay really. Thank you for writing these amazing fics, the shinran fandom is in your debt. ❤️

So this is the last (!!!) and longest (!!!) of the kiss prompts, and I dedicate it to multiple-requests Anon and to this Anon. I hope both of you still see this. It took me a while. ^^;;

P.S. Special thanks to @artycreaty for keeping this in check. You are awesome. 🥰

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella. 46. A lingering kiss before a long trip apart. (6,489 words)

.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She has hundreds of reasons not to. They’re merely childhood best friends. Life would be much easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven. Shinichi absolutely doesn’t look at her that way. And so forth.

She wonders why they’re even friends in the first place. If their parents hadn’t enrolled them in the same kindergarten, she was certain they wouldn’t even be on speaking terms. He lives in a world of grisly books and crimes, she in a world of martial and visual arts. Their hobbies don’t overlap. They excel in different fields. They enter the same university with completely unrelated majors. The only bond they have in common is their shared history. Literally bonded since they were four, until now at nineteen.

So when she sees him all jolly around his newfound circle who hold the same interest in Holmes or detective work, it shouldn’t surprise her as much. It’s part of university life, it’s normal, they expand their horizons, and Ran understands that it hits much differently when they bond with people who like the same stuff they do. Something she’s aware they cannot share a hundred percent.

She’s proud of him, and she absolutely has no right to feel jealous, especially when she sees him around taller, prettier, more interesting women from his course block. There is no reason for her to look away with a heavy weight in her chest everytime the women get giggly and touchy while he’s absorbed in narrating his stories.

Everytime she does, she reminds herself of how he didn’t seem to mind when she was casted as the protagonist of their high school play and the leading man was the handsome Araide-sensei. Or how he simply shrugged when she fawned over the brother of a classmate because he looked so much like the karate senpai she was crushing on. Or when she secretly caught Sonoko dragging the detective behind gym after P.E. to confront him about his opinion regarding an upperclassman courting Ran and his only response was, ‘She can like whoever she likes, Sonoko. I’m not her boyfriend.’

He never showed her any sign of jealousy, therefore he must not be into her. Simple as that. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him differently. Getting snarky just because he received sixteen new fan mails again, more now that they’re in uni, and two even coming from the popular criminology seniors he is often teased to? Or ignoring him unprecedentedly just because his eyes followed the back of a woman with long chestnut hair and voluptuous curves? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s bound to be attracted to someone else. This is a pill she ought to learn to swallow eventually.

Eventually.

“Shinichi-kun, you never told us about your scariest case yet, tell us about it?”

Kaori closes her notes and so do the other two girls across her, and Shinichi’s eyes twinkle. He truly seems to enjoy study sessions with the little group they made consisting of some of his and Ran’s coursemates because they love listening to his stories.

“At the top of my head is this murderer disguised as a bandaged man, and he targeted us one by one…” and so the detective drones. Ran pauses typing and reminisces quietly. Ah, that one from summer three years ago. I was almost injured by that crazy man during my sleep but Shinichi woke me up in time.

“Ran-san,” Shun, her friend and coursemate, mutters beside her, also stopping his typing to listen to the detective’s story. “It’s ridiculous how popular Kudou-kun is with the girls. He’s full of wild adventures.”

“Yes, he is,” Ran says, smiling. “He’s been a girl magnet ever since high school.”

She watches as Kaori inches closer to Shinichi, listening attentively, chin on her palm and flirtatious smile on her lips as the detective rants on and on.

For the third time that afternoon, Ran looks away.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She does, everyday, but it’s hard when he smiles at her, cares for her, holds her in a way she’s never seen him do for anyone else. It gives her hope every time the girls cling to him but he never touches them back, whereas he automatically slings his arm over her shoulder because she’s afraid or cold or he simply feels like it.

Then again, maybe she’s giving herself too much credit. Perhaps it’s a free pass for being around him for too long. She even gets to spend time with him during weekends and holidays. It isn’t special because it’s normal.

And that’s all she’ll ever be, a normal girl in his eyes.

“Ran? She’s pretty special.”

Ran reacts to the mention of her name and catches Shinichi looking at her. “She appears quiet but she can kick anyone’s ass without breaking a sweat. It’s bad if you cross her,” Shinichi gloats with a grin.

“Oh my god, really? We can bring her with us then!” Kaori claps her hands in excitement.

“Ah... But she won’t like that,” he follows up, wary. Ran has missed the topic they were talking about and now she’s curious.

“But ghosts aren’t real and Mouri-san can give them a good beating!”

“Gh-Ghosts?” The color in her cheeks drains, eyes freezing at Shinichi who has probably already expected that reaction, for he sports that same look of concern as those times he had expressed whenever she joined him in his way-past-bedtime elementary school adventures.

“We’ll investigate an abandoned house I always pass by walking home,” Kaori explains. “Last night I saw a faint cigarette light at the second floor window. It might be a fugitive or a homeless person or a ghost, who knows?”

“You don’t need to come if you don’t want to, Ran,” Shinichi assures.

Gulping, Ran contemplates whether going with them will do her any good. It’s a nice change, it’s been a while since she last tagged with Shinichi in his cases. But she isn’t exactly proud of shrieking like a little kid in front of serious criminology majors who may feel like she’ll drag their covert investigation down if she joins.

“...I’ll pass,” she answers meekly, and his coursemates sulk except Shinichi, who offers her a smile of understanding.

“Man, I thought we’ll be able to see Mouri-san in action!”

“That’s ok, maybe next time. We still have Shinichi-kun!”

“Shinichi-kun will protect us, ne?”

“Hah. Right. Invite Hakuba too, use him.”

“Oh c’mooon, Shinichi-kun!”

Ran closes her eyes, struggling to zone their voices out.

In her silence, Ran ponders if she has made a wrong choice.

.

.

Ran has no right to be jealous. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him this way.

The following weekend, Shinichi narrates what happened in their late-night investigation. Hakuba wasn’t there so Shinichi was the only available guy as usual. Ran refuses to hear any more details, both of the haunted house and secretly of the girls chancing onto him during the investigation. Shinichi is puzzled.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah, just swamped with work.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to assist?”

“No.”

Her replies are curt from the couch of his house, not looking at Shinichi on the other end as she mindlessly cleans up her digital sketches. She hates how snappy she sounds but her brain is too absorbed with conjuring spiteful imaginations to even think of masking her annoyance.

“Ran, hey. Look at me.”

His low voice freezes her from drawing, and she slowly looks up to meet Shinichi’s serious eyes.

When this happens, she knows he’s reading her. She inwardly chants a prayer because now isn’t a good time. Whatever time isn’t a good time. She doesn’t know what to say when she’s aware everything she’s been feeling is irrational and unfair. She’s being selfish.

“You’re… stressed.”

“No, I’m… Eh?”

He scoots closer, an arm’s length away. “Your dark circles are more prominent now, you need a break.” His eyes turn a soft blue. “Let’s have dinner out? My treat.”

Ran is surprised, to say the least. The last time he invited her out was two weeks ago. She’s become so used to seeing him around others that any initiative from him sounds too good to be true.

“But I need to finish this project by tonight.”

“Let’s have food delivery then!” Shinichi announces, not rattled by Ran’s indirect refusal. “I know exactly what you want. Ramen and shaved ice.”

Her eyes thin at the absurdly goofy expression she knows he makes when he’s being mischievous. “Clearly you’re ordering that ramen for yourself. I only like shaved ice.”

“Damn! Miss Detective gets it.” A mile-wide grin stretches across his face, earning an eye roll from the half-smiling woman. “Let’s eat together on your short break, please?”

He leans within a respectful distance and she sees his smile better, pair of kind eyes locking with her overworked ones. “It’s been a while.”

Her heart throbs for him. So much.

She caves - of course she does - and breathes her acquiescence.

After two long weeks, they have dinner together, just them and Shinichi’s ramen and Ran’s donburi and shaved ice, Shinichi taking a spoonful of dessert from the cup when she isn’t looking and Ran snatching a slurp from his take-out bowl and laughing when he catches her.

With how heartfelt his laughter is in her presence devoid of any mysteries, Ran knows she’s probably giving herself too much credit, but for once she wants to believe she is the cause of why Shinichi’s happy.

Just for that night, she gives it to herself.

She’ll change the dark colors of her digital artwork to brighter ones after they eat.

.

.

Despite everything, Ran finds it difficult to contain her recurring jealousy.

The more she shares precious time with him, the more it gets harder to suppress the selfish emotions. What is so unsatisfying about being the best friend is that she is only the best friend. No more no less. At the end of the day, she isn’t the one he gets to cuddle with, to tease then kiss, to tell ‘I love you’ to, romantically.

“I love you.”

Ran feels her heart about to leap out of her chest.

“But please. Stop. Tearing. The. Cushions!”

The little furball he has scooped underneath a throw pillow wiggle from his grasp. The kitten and detective engage in a brief staring showdown before it jumps away to hide under a farther couch.

Snapping out of reverie, Ran watches her childhood friend slink dejectedly onto the partly scratched furniture. He’s fortunate enough that his mother isn’t around to give him a long lecture on Why Pets Aren’t Allowed in the House 101. She can always take Yukiko-san’s role and reprimand him for it, but as for this and the cat, she finds herself not wanting to intervene.

“Kaori-san sure is taking her time with her parent’s permission. By the time she does, Momo would’ve shredded all the pillows in this house.”

“You named the cat?” Ran asks, amused.

“She did.” He thinks for a moment, then sniggers. “Actually I did. I suggested a random name. She took it.”

Ran merely hums. What can she say? They’re getting close. Close enough to team up as parents to an adopted kitten.

“I’m surprised you also agreed to keep Momo when you never took in animals before.”

“Kaori said she’ll treat me to the latest Detective Samonji movie this weekend if I do. Can’t resist that.”

“Just you two?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. Then he turns to her.

“Wanna join? I can ask her to count you in since you’re kinda helpi—”

“N-no need,” Ran quips, “It’s—It’s fine.”

“No really,” Shinichi insists, “Kaori-san has a lot of money, she—”

“I’m going to Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum with Shun-san this weekend... so... I can’t.”

“Ah.”

Silence.

“It’s, um, for a project,” she bolsters.

“I know.” The faintest smile graces his lips. “It’s your thing. Both of you.”

“Mm.”

He doesn’t say anything else after that.

“Shinichi, you’re a detective, right?” she blurts out of the blue.

“Yeah...and?”

Then deduce what I feel. Here and now.

“Then you’re going to enjoy that movie!” Ran forces a beam, giving Shinichi a thumb of approval. “And you can discuss it with Kaori-san over dinner. I’m sure you two have a lot to say about it.”

Shinichi’s eyes linger on her, reading her like a book, and Ran has her mind reeling again, afraid to be read.

“Yeah, we do,” he finally says, ending the conversation.

Only a few words are uttered the rest of the afternoon.

Momo resurfaces and curls beside Shinichi.

Momo’s purring is loud, but Ran’s shattering heart is louder.

.

.

Ran must not feel jealous. She is not a girlfriend.

Because she isn’t a girlfriend, he’s free to fall for and date anyone else. Who is she to gatekeep him? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s one big catch. Ran believes she’s a big catch, too. With the way she loves dearly, her future boyfriend is going to be very lucky.

Her future boyfriend is not going to be him.

“...mber the required fieldwork in one of my majors I told you? We actually go by batches. The first batch did theirs last month. The second batch was last week… and I— Ran, are you listening?”

“Ah! Yes,” Ran notices they have already reached her station and are now walking two blocks to her apartment. “Your fieldwork, right?”

“...Yeah,” he carries on. “I’m in the last batch... This whole winter break.”

“I see, I understand.” She smiles, getting what he means. No Christmas or New Year’s Eve together. The first time since they’re four. It’s fine, honestly. If it’s a required activity, then there’s really no way to go about it. She isn’t going to lash out just because she can’t be with him in her most favorite time of the year.

“And Hattori-kun and Hakuba-kun will be with you?”

“Hattori did his last month. Hakuba is in the previous batch. I’ll be stuck with the girls.”

Ran’s heart momentarily squeezes. “Where will your fieldwork be?”

“In Akita.”

Her pupils constrict. “That far?”

“Yes... so to cut on expenses, Kaori-san offered her house for me and the others to stay while we’re there—”

Kaori. Again with the tall, beautiful, intelligent Kaori. She bets it’s amazing to spend the holidays doing what he loves and with Kaori beside her, snuggling with him by the fireplace in a romantic snowy night and she might even confess, and it’ll be a great catch for Shinichi, and he’ll return with a girlfriend, and—

“Kaori-san is lucky.” The words flow out of her mouth, unbridled.

Shinichi looks at her. “Lucky?”

Ran remains quiet and keeps walking. It’s dangerous to say anything. She only has one thing in her mind and she doesn’t want to say it out loud. She has no right.

“Ran, hey.”

She doesn’t stop walking.

“Ran.”

She ignores his call.

“Ran… you’re jealous.”

She stops walking.

“Excuse me?”

“...You’re jealous…” Shinichi repeats quietly.

A contrast to his calm tone, his irises beset hers in the cold twilight and Ran attempts to shield herself but her bag and umbrella are in the way. She thinks of turning away but her feet are frigid like icicles, and Shinichi steps closer.

For the third time, he declares, “You’re jealous.”

Hearing her thoughts echo through his words renders her speechless.

It seems to take a moment before Shinichi’s brow arches, lips curl up as his eyes refuse to stray, and she hears a faint exhale even, like he’s exasperated, and suddenly he’s smiling - or is he smirking? sneering? - and...and...

It stings, is her immediate reaction.

For the longest time, she’d wanted him to take a hint. But if she had known this was how he’d react, she’d rather live a life having him oblivious of her emotional struggle. Dealing with that is more tolerable than witnessing him gaze her down in blatant mockery. He sneers as though he’s about to crack a joke and move on and forget such a laughable matter. That’s the last form of acknowledgment she wants for her honest feelings.

Heartbreak and shame and pain build up in her chest like a volcano closing eruption. Water begins to cloud her vision. She clenches her fist tight on her umbrella and Shinichi notices, and he takes another step forward.

“Ran…?”

“I am not, and you’re a fool.”

In a span of a breath, she’s sprinting in the opposite direction, tracing the path where they have walked, ignoring the distant yells of her name behind her. She runs and runs, and as she runs farther, with her thoughts muddy and breath short and dry, she wonders if she may have overreacted.

If he’s done that on purpose, screw him. If not, screw her.

After all, they are merely friends and she has no logical reason to act this way.

“Stop... running... will you!”

She hears heavy footsteps close in. It takes all the energy Ran has to prevent herself from turning her body around but his strong grip overpowers her.

“Let me go!”

“Why are you running?!”

“I can’t...deal with you!”

“Why? Was I right?”

“Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter!”

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Because I am your best friend!”

On another occasion, she would’ve successfully jilted away and run farther, but Ran is floored when he yanks her into a one-armed hug, so floored she drops her umbrella to the snowy ground.

“Stop saying that!” he hisses in her ear, frustration apparent.

“What are you— Let me go!”

He hugs her tighter.

“If you don’t let go in three seconds, I will screa—”

“I am happy!”

Ran stops struggling, eyes widening in shock.

Icy huffs tickle her neck as he half shouts, “I’m happy you feel that way!”

“You’re...You’re happy because I’m suffering?”

“What? No! I—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? How?” The hurt in her tone is impeccable, prattling muffled against his chest as she spares him no moment to butt in. “You think I wanted to feel this? That I enjoy griping in helpless jealousy? And you’re rejoicing that I am? How full of yourself can you be?!”

“That’s not...You don’t underst—”

“I do understand! I understand that I am so incredibly stupid for catching this disgusting heap of emotions for an obnoxious, stuck-up deduction maniac that is my best friend and maybe it’s better after all that he never, ever sees me the way I see him!”

“Stop saying that, Ran!”

She thinks he has broken away, but he drags her back with an insistent tug, crashing his lips onto hers as she stumbles into his arms.

All willpower rippling through her disintegrates quickly like snow in high heat.

An impatient pop resonates as he separates, eyes slowly opening, breath thick and ragged.

“I know that is not how we explain things, but does that explain anything?”

She hears it. The madness. But more than madness, yearning bleeds through his voice so much that her frustration turns into physical pain. Blinded by an all-consuming ache, she tips her chin and presses her lips back against his, demanding for cure in the wrong place. Shinichi freezes, then relaxes. He moves his hand to her nape, four fingers in her hair, thumb treading her jaw.

They look like a scene in a movie.

Under his umbrella and hidden from view, they communicate through brushing lips and tilting heads. His mouth closing over hers with gentle force, her hands splaying across his chest, heavy with something that makes his heart pound under them.

She is so lost in the chase and his tender embrace that for a second she forgets she is kissing her best friend.

Best friend.

This doesn’t explain anything. It worsens it.

She pulls back, ending what she has so recklessly started. “N-no, I’m— No.”

She pushes him away, gathers the stuff she drops, and runs without looking back.

“Ran!”

He shouts her name. Twice.

On the third call, his footfalls die down. On the fourth, he stops running.

She doesn’t.

.

.

Thirty minutes before midnight, Ran stands outside his gate, boots buried half foot under the snow as she rings his intercom for the second time, thinking to herself how foolish she must be to cut communications with him for a week and then show up his doorstep looking miserable like a stood-up date.

It’s the start of winter break.

He’ll leave for Akita in ten hours.

She needs to give his Christmas present before his departure.

She’s crazy, pathetic, still frustrated, and hurtfully in love.

“Oi. You better have a good explanation for why you’re buzzing at goddamn midnig—”

“Shinichi.”

His surprised gasp is apparent even through the intercom. A rustle follows and with a croaky voice, he responds. “...Ran.”

Surely he isn’t expecting this. Not after the tantrum she threw days ago. He probably thinks she hates him more than ever. But what she truly feels is more overwhelming than all negative emotions combined, and may god grant her all the strength to address it all, tonight.

“May I come in?”

“The house is—The house is a mess I, um. I’m packing my stuff for...”

“I’ll help you.”

“...”

She’ll understand if he decides to turn her down. But the answer that follows the deafening pause is a low and quiet ‘Okay’.

Despite psyching herself hours before she came, courage wanes when he opens the front door and gate in his pullovers. She is welcomed in, and the trip up his room is wordless. Shinichi only talks when he points out that he’s already packed clothes for two days and will need help for two weeks’ worth. He lamely laughs when he instructs her to pick the tops and layers, and he’ll take care of the pants and underwear.

On a normal instance, she would’ve humored him and they would’ve been talking right after. Now she simply pulls an empty smile and then they fall back into silence.

She supposes he’s trying to act unbothered, to treat what happened a week ago as a one-and-done glitch in their friendship, never to be discussed again. She cannot fault him when she’s trying to do the same. But it’s not easy when in the stillness of the night the echo of their altercation howls, raging persistently in their ears.

What has he been thinking of for the past week?

Has he been kept up all night by the words she said and the words he left unspoken?

Are they still friends? Will they still be friends after this?

The kiss... What about the kiss?

So many questions. So little words. So little time.

Ran is seated on the floor, folding shirts and stuffing them neatly in his duffel bag. Her back faces Shinichi who is sorting out bottoms in his cabinet. She senses him sit on the floor, back against her but not touching. Neither dares to speak first.

A ringing phone cuts the silence.

“Mm, still awake. Good for two weeks right? Gotcha. No, I’ll meet you girls at the station, no need to fetch me. Pfft. I can walk. Ok, see you tomorrow.”

If Ran wasn’t so hyperaware of where she is and what she’s done, her mood would’ve shifted to the one she’d been trying to avoid. Now isn’t the time to think about that. Midnight sneaking out to go to his house is something she wouldn’t do even on good days. She scans her bag on the far couch, deliberately bringing a bigger one to hide his gift. Maybe she can just sneak it in his bag and leave once she’s done and he’ll discover it only when he’s prefectures away. Brown has always suited him, and he’ll definitely find the overcoat useful as spare protective gear.

That’s right. She always cares for him like this. She is his best friend first, and... and nothing second.

“Don’t just leave after putting your present in my bag. At this hour, I can’t let you walk home alone,” he says swiftly.

Ran’s eyes fly wide.

“How did you…”

He doesn’t say anything and continues with his business.

Again with the throat-drying silence.

Something in Ran’s gut compels her to speak, but she is surprised when he does first.

“I... I don’t like Kaori-san. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ran stiffens, pausing mid-motion from folding. “I’m not…”

He leans his back completely against her and she shudders, voice reverberating through her skin. “Ran, if you could just hear me out.”

Unable to talk and move, she does.

“Kaori-san and the rest... They know I love mysteries. They know I want to build my own private detective agency. They know my favorite Holmes’ story is The Sign of Four. They know how many crimes I solved in Tokyo. All the information about me which anyone can read from the internet and newspaper and from what I told them when they ask, they know. Ran, you know all that. All that and more.”

He angles his head to the ceiling as if he’s talking to someone there. Ran supports his weight, curling to her knees as she silently listens.

“You know of my first ever deduction because Christ, my first deduction was about you. You know of the two cases which haunt me until this day because I watched the culprit die in front of my very eyes. You were with me the nights I locked myself in here thinking about them. You know of the interesting, the boring, the absurd cases, everything, because I told you or you were there. You know of the odd way I play the violin while I ponder over a case. You know I forget to eat when swamped with new books to read. I have three copies of The Sign of Four but the one I keep beside my bed and read almost weekly is the one you gave me on my tenth birthday and that is all I need. You know me for me, Ran. Everything about me that is off the record, the good and the bad, you know all of those. Only you. The same way I do... about you.”

She feels him crane slightly to the side, addressing her.

“Ran.”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

Ran’s heart almost completely stops beating.

“I love you,” he whispers, “more than I am even supposed to.”

All words seem to have fizzled out of her vocabulary as she sits still, stunned at what she’s hearing.

“I’m happy growing up with you, studying with you, bickering with you, acting stupid with you, investigating with you, eating with you, napping with you, hugging you, holding you, taking care of you, simply... being with you. Before I know it, it’s not the cases or Holmes or mysteries that complete my days, it’s you.

“For you to keep repeating that ‘best friend’ phrase, I…” He lowers his head.

“For who knows how long, I’ve loved you as that and more.”

Someone pinch her because in no way can this be real.

“I was happy thinking you’re jealous because it meant a sliver of chance you feel the same way. We could’ve remedied the misunderstanding easily, Ran. We could’ve talked it over like we always do. But I was stupid and emotions were high and in the end I… kissed you…” he takes another deep breath, “But—but you kissed me back, and my heart couldn’t stay still...”

Pulse drumming loud, Ran tilts her head on the side where he leans, wanting to see the slightest expression he makes as he continues.

“If my deductions are wrong and you’re mad for a different reason, and—and you returned that for a different reason...” she hears the pang of remorse in his tone, “then please forget I ever said anything and I’ll leave myself to die in humiliation once I’m out of your sight.”

He lays one palm flat on the floor and she notices.

“But if my deductions are right and you were indeed jealous, I...” She feels his head swivel enough to feel his warm breath fan across her cheek, before shifting back front and releasing a slow, guttural exhale he’s kept contained within.

“I’ll wait... until you accept it. Accept me.”

Ran may have choked on her throat for how long she’s held her breath.

In spite of herself, she knows she doesn’t need to think of what to say. She had it all in her head before coming here. Yet expressing it out loud is a different matter.

She isn’t ready, but when will she ever be ready? Shinichi undoubtedly isn’t too. Yet here he is, laying the groundwork for her, no holds barred and a stuttering mess at that. How she plans to build from it is the question she asks herself next.

Inhaling as though bracing herself, she places a hand beside him, pinky slightly grazing his.

“I didn’t... You never showed any signs.”

Careful and calm, he extends his little finger over hers. She doesn’t flinch, and both hands crawl closer until two fingers overlap.

“Either I’m a great pretender or you’re incredibly dense.”

“I’m...I’m not dense.”

“I’m a bad actor, then.” He slides his hand further.

“I was trying so hard to be a supportive best friend for you.”

“I sensed that but ignored it because I didn’t want to assume anything.”

“You did though. Now we’re here.”

“Would you rather we aren’t?”

“I would rather we spend the last weeks of this year talking like normal than being stupid idiots before you leave.”

“It’s just two weeks, Ran.”

“Two special weeks I would’ve wanted to spend with my best frien-... with you.”

Without knowing it, his hand has completely nestled atop hers, four fingers curled between her thumb and index finger.

“Ran... You must really hate the idea of falling in love with me.”

“Eh?”

“You’re so wrapped with the thought that we’re simply best friends that you hold your love in chains as though it isn’t permitted to grow.”

“I… I didn’t want to ruin the only connection we have-”

“Two friends falling in love are still friends… They are also more. You cannot ruin an indefeasible connection. Friendship and love may be the only bond we have, but they’re the most important bond of all.”

Ran falls quiet.

“Geez…”

He releases a thick sigh, brushes his thumb across her splayed fingers.

“I have shit art appreciation skills, but I can take you to museums too... as a friend and as a date.” A beat, and a mumble. “Even to better museums than Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum.”

She darts her head sideways, realizing something.

“Were you also…?”

“No.”

Ran doesn’t suppress the heartfelt giggle that bubbles out.

“Shun-san has a boyfriend, Shinichi.”

“I—” he pauses. “I wasn’t asking.” Ran giggles more.

“Shinichi.”

“Yes.”

“I love you too.”

The hand above squishes hers all too suddenly like he’s been blown away and is needing something to hold onto.

“I came here to give your present and to apologize for being so shallow and for acting without thinking and for a lot of things actually... but now I feel there’s no need, because then I wouldn’t have...” She looks down at their intertwined hands.

Before she can return his squeeze, he recoils.

“Oh, y-you do apologize. Running away like that.” He coughs, and she can practically hear the tripping in his tone.

“Aren’t you already used to it? I’ve done it many times,” she chides.

“No. Apologize,” he insists. “And look at me while you do.”

Ran’s stomach twists, heart kicking up a step.

It’s easy to talk without eye contact, but to be requested so after confessions are exchanged—

“Face me, Ran.”

The familiar voice of yearning strums her heartstrings, tone sounding a lot like a plea than an order and Ran finds her head instinctively craning at an angle, hand coiling on the floor trying to calm her nervous beating heart. She feels him shift behind as well.

She takes all her time to face him, partly unsure what to do, partly knowing exactly what she wants to do. Despite the deliberate slowness of their movements, it is when they lock eyes that time truly seems to stop.

Shinichi appears so different, so soulful. His blue irises glimmering, fixated on nothing but her as she reveres him with matching intensity. The same guy she treats as her best friend looks at her with tender love in his eyes, darting down her lips and up like no best friend ever would.

“I love you,” he says, breathless. “Make me your boyfriend.”

A wave of emotion sweeps over her, heartbeat fluttering in overdrive as they huddle on the floor, bags and clothes and time forgotten.

“From best friend to... such a shift-”

“Nothing will be different.” He rests his forehead on hers, gaze of soft blue patient though more intimate now, knowing what they share is mutual. “We’ll still do what we do... With exclusive romantic commitment and sweet nothings that translate to ‘I love you’ in more ways than one.”

She attempts a jab on his chest but he catches her fist, soft but jesting beam all too apparent and she does but play along.

“What about when we fight?” she asks.

“Same. But...” he slides a thumb over her quiet lips, parting them slightly, “I can do this once we make up.”

“...Like right now?”

“Like right now.”

A genuine smile is the last thing she sees before delicate pair of lips lands on hers, capping their one-week fight and their last night of the year together in the best and most unexpected way imaginable.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she shouldn’t be jealous.

Not because they are simply best friends, because they aren’t. Not because life would be easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven, because it wouldn’t.

Not because Shinichi doesn’t look at her that way, because he does.

She shouldn’t be jealous because she absolutely has no reason to, is all.

“I haven’t forgotten about your present. I was planning to buy yours in Akita.”

“Stop lying, you totally forgot it.”

“I didn’t. Stop that.” Half-mast eyes rake her side profile, and Ran covers a mirthful grin with her mitted hand holding the umbrella, then yawns. Hours of packing and talking and laughing left them with roughly four hours of sleep. It isn’t like she slept the whole period because while sleeping in his room isn’t new, cuddling while they sleep is. Ran couldn’t simply shut her eyes and heart to that.

“I believe though,” he wraps a hand around her free one, pocketing both of them in his brand new overcoat, “I gave half of my present already.”

“Hnn. That doesn’t count as a gift.” Her hand shifted, coddling his own to a warm fit.

“Really?” A smug smirk pulls up his face. “I believe I am a nice present, Ran. That’s why they—”

“Screw this. You are unbelievable. A humbug. Why do people like you.”

“I know. Why do you like me?” Shinichi laughs as he avoids the swing of her umbrella.

From afar, they see Kaori and the girls at the meet-up point outside Tokyo Station, though they seem unaware of their presence yet. Suddenly feeling conscious, Ran feels the urge to disentangle her hand, but Shinichi holds on, firm.

“Why?” He asks in a low voice.

“I dunno… maybe this isn’t the best time…”

“Isn’t now the best time?” His smile is proud and natural, not one ounce of reluctance visible.

Although she gets what he means, that doesn’t free her of shyness and guilt. Somehow she feels like apologizing to Kaori for… she doesn’t know. She just wants to. Letting her see them like this makes her think that she’s giving her an indirect slap on the face. Shinichi certainly won’t agree because ‘What’s with women and their logic?’, but still, whether or not it’s all in her head, Ran needs more time to prepare for this.

But to her surprise, Shinichi lets go of her hand. They are still a few feet from view when he steps in front of her and turns around. “Maah, fine, I get it,” he huffs, then smiles. “Then, just give me your umbrella.”

The moment she does, Shinichi closes their distance and dips his face onto hers. Ran is given no leeway to gasp as loving lips seal her quiet. It isn’t as long as what they shared a week ago, but the emotions are loaded and full, speaking fond thanks and temporary farewell.

She doesn’t realize she has closed her eyes until he separates, and she’s met with the most tender, most angelic expression he wears only on the rarest occasions. He’s saying without telling that her feelings are valid, she doesn’t have to worry,  and he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but her. Somehow, the snow is the sea and fish are swarming around but neither cares because they have already caught each other.

“You don’t have to, silly.” Three layers of pink blanket Ran’s puffy cheeks.

“But I want to.” Grinning, Shinichi hands her back the umbrella. “You don’t like hand-holding. You don’t like being seen. Don’t you think that’s a great compromise?”

“Idiot, many people saw...”

“No, they didn’t!” Upping the duffel bag slung on his shoulder, he steps back and gives her one last goofy beam. “I’ll see you next year, Ran. I’ll call as often as I can.”

Wordlessly, Ran watches Shinichi’s back as he jogs to his waiting companions, who by then have already had their eyes pinned on the approaching figure.

“That is Shinichi-kun! ...And Mouri-san!”

“Ehhh!!?! You’re a thing!”

So much for being subtle, Ran flushes inwardly as she returns the wave the other girls are giving her. At that moment she really does feel immature for her past conduct. All of them are sweet. Even Kaori.

“I knew it Shinichi-kun! Mouri-san is sooo lucky, I’m so jealous!” Ran hears their banter and sees her jab his bicep before acknowledging her. “We’ll take care of him, Mouri-san!”

The Ran from one week ago would’ve had her heart crushed by such declaration, but now she’s nothing but pleased and the smile that forms across her lips is nothing but honest. “Make sure he doesn’t drag your group into a random dead body, Kaori-san!”

“Hey!” surfaces Shinichi’s shout amidst the mincing laughter of the group and the onlooking passers-by, and Ran bids her last wave before they enter the station.

Smiling to herself, Ran returns home, the lingering promise of his kiss committed to memory, knowing that she doesn’t have to get jealous because she has no reason to. Their indefeasible bond is all the assurance she needs.

.

.

.

[tobeornottotc]

WE BEST LOVE RANT- warning probably is insensitive or whatever but I just had to get it out!

Wasn’t going to complain but I had to because y’all are just filling up the whole tag, the whole drama list, everywhere with negativity about every single thing. If i’m reading the show’s outlines right then look. It’s a trope done before but it’s one that’s important to see. Shide likes to deal with problems on his own because that’s how he grew up, the father probably gave him a different option to end up with Shuyi later, which is to wait until he becomes the owner of his fathers company, Shuyi is on the verge of being promoted to his father’s role hence why the company acquisition storyline is important, but shareholders and others are looking for ways to get rid of him, its why he’s so pressured to fire these people with no emotion, the father probably believed their relationship won’t last, and won’t be worth the eyes on Shuyi looking for reasons to get rid of him. Shide’s promise to the father probably was to back of until that’s sorted which is why immediately he reunites with Shuyi he understands his anger but pretends like everything is normal (because he doesn’t think they’ve broken up, they’re just on a pause for a while), I don’t think he knows about the cheating misunderstanding if he did he would have acted more desperately he just thought Shuyi will have a hard time understanding and would be angry he just didn’t expect him to be so heartbroken since he sent him messages telling him there’s a reason and he should wait. It’s still stupid but Shide wanted a desperate way to let the dad accept him and Shuyi, and to protect Shuyi’s future as ceo, he didn’t want any issues for Shuyi. 

As stupid as the story is; it was very Shide to be a noble idiot and do this so people complaining about how tired the trope is, we best love didn’t promise to be a new unique outstanding different BL calm the fuk down. It’s just a normal BL using the same tropes written well and acted well. People all of a sudden shouting and complaining is just so exhausting like stop watching the show if you don’t like watching the same tropes over and over again. Or accept that tropes can be repeated and still be interesting, it’s not lazy writing, it’s not problematic writing because the characters are all humans, they can be flawed, they can make mistakes, the fu*king can act in a way that has already been told to us that they act in, so why are people making people feel bad for wanting to enjoy a good BL? Urgh. 

I get that the couch scene is non consensual, I get that we all want PC culture and we want things to be shown that way. It is not okay that the music used was romantic, however the couch scene is not meant to be seen as romantic, it’s not meant to be seen as something that is wanted. Shide is broken at that moment and his most worst angry version of himself, it’s not an excuse, but it’s understandable. And yes I’m allowed to understand why the characters act the way they’re acting, like they have been separated for 5 FUCKING YEARS so there’s a lot of angst, pain, anguish, automatic longing, toxicity that is brewing between them but this is not SURPRISING. The show isn’t saying to anyone this is right? No one is applauding the fact that they slept together because it’s not a good thing. But everyone who’s making people feel bad for wanting to like a scene that represented a predictable character action that was going to happen one way or another, like just stop! No one is bad or a pervert, or wrong for wanting to say that scene was good writing, no one is bad for wanting to say that scene was acted well, no one should feel guilty or messed up in the head for understanding why that scene happened. 

Second to all the people feeling triggered, I get you, I understand why non/dubious consent is an issue believe me i understand but at the same time it has been warned time and time again that the 15 minute couch scene was going to be bad, the actors themselves has said it, the tags have been filled with it, it was obvious this was going to happen, if you get triggered by stuff like this, and you know you get triggered by this why watch? why choose to come to the episode and watch, you had time to stop if it triggers you so badly, I’m sorry for being insensitive but I’m also a victim of this so i’m also being insensitive to my self,  and I didn’t get triggered, cause I understood why it is was written this way but if I knew this would be a problem i would have listened to the warnings and just backed off. 

For everyone else? I mean how else do you think these two were going to confront what they feel when there’s alcohol involved? There’s reasons why the writer used alcohol as a tool to break down Shide, Shide is problematic already and this is him being that way amped up because he has no control. I am not defending ass*ult, or non consent, but I’m tired with all the people who keep saying the people who understand why this scene is written are what’s wrong with the world because god forbid we don’t want to end the show, and send hate repeatedly and negativity because we feel uncomfortable but expected to feel uncomfortable since the beginning of this show? This scene is not a shock?  This might be problematic to some people and you can think whatever you want to think about me, but this tag has been really annoying, everywhere apart from weibo and maybe twitter, is just negativity. Just tiring and this is not just about the comments about the scene, or the ass*ult, its more than that, everyone is having a fu*king problem with everyTHINg.  Jesus. 

will probably delete this later. 

[yanderecandystore]

ok ok hear me out hear me out. Yuma becoming obsessed with one of the game’s ( few ) sentient, non-romancable npcs. Like they can think and feel and ( somewhat ) act for themselves but there just isn’t a route for them. Also bonus points of the darling is kinda bratty/prissy, we haven’t see a lot of readers like that. Ily and your writing so much, mwah — ✨ anon

My my, how different!

Welcome in, ✨ Anon! And thank you for enjoying my writing so far.

TW/Tags: I love this concept, although being very different from the norm // some ddlc vibes // I just discovered a new word and I'm so glad it exists! (prissy reader cause I think this would be very fun-) // angsty // trapping, manipulation and gaslighting // every time the gender isn't set, I like to keep it ambiguous, basically making it gender neutral (gender neutral reader) // gender neutral Yuma //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Just Yuma (lol) [Yandere!A.I OC x A.I!Reader - Headcanon]:

I like to think that a game like Yuma's would be made to entertain the players to at least 5 or so years before the next installment- Which is basically the same as the last with better graphics and switching the main love interest cast.

The games would be made clearly for the sake of fan service and slice of life material- But would be surprisingly more advanced to us than to those who have created the franchise.

Because there is already an estimation of the amount of content and for how long players would play the game, every single character should get at least some bit of highlight- So even npcs that are just there for the sake of ambience and narrative, are treated with a lot of care and given the best a.i the developers could give to make the experience entertaining.

You are just like any other non-dateable npc, except that you have gained a bit of a role in one of the main cast's routes. It wouldn't be a stretch to guess that one of these characters would be Yuma themselves.

You were supposed to be Yuma's love interest, meaning you would have an role as an player's rival- But due to an strict schedule and corporate greed, you have been demoted from having such a big impact, and now you're basically Yuma's best friend who keeps them from committing homicide every five seconds.

It's not exactly a bad role, since you keep having the same dynamic with them from before- Chaotic gremlin is best friends with Paranoid goody two shoes, now with less romantic interactions.

The only mistake by the company was to leave half of the data showcasing this relationship in the game at the release. Basically- Half of the cutscenes and dialogue involving you and Yuma not only being friends but the start of you two dating (the game kinda pairs the couples up if the player fails to date them, or simply shows disinterest in the characters to begin with-) and even some of the things involving you two during the dating phase- Even the potential break-up sequence which could be orchestrated by the player.

Well, could have- Since none of this content is really available or considered official, the only way to access it is by messing the games files.

So in a way, you're already pretty sentient as it is, you act not as a rival but as a somewhat helper into getting the player to get closer to Yuma. I don't know how much you are aware about your own circumstances, or if you even care about the concept of being just an character made for the sake of another-

In the home planet that has created and released the game, players were kinda disappointed with what happened- They preferred the deleted/unused content more than the events and dialogue that was used for you two, so much so that people started shipping you two more than actually being interested in romancing Yuma, especially since they're way too chaotic for most player's taste.

There was an update overhaul being planned to happen where not only the stuff related to you would be changed- But all the other characters and gameplay mechanics would be updated and hopefully make the game better- But ever since your cartridge has been suddenly lost and forgotten on Earth, you were never able to see that update.

Not that you were aware of it to begin with, but still, what a shame. And not only that, your game is basically Glitch Station- Absolutely filed with mods to help the gameplay be "easier" to the original owner of this cartridge. I don't think she even remembers where she has left it.

Still, even when a new save was made you felt a weird sensation of deja vu. The game has started again with a new player playing it and trying to work their way through this broken game.

You didn't understand why all these events felt familiar though, you only felt like it made sense. It was your first year in college, you got ready and made sure to look your best and give your goodbye to your parents-

It felt like this day has happened before, and even if your routine was similar, you felt like this day was supposed to be a big deal- Why does it feel oddly nostalgic?

Why… Why are the floors on your house flowing? Why are there so many empty spaces here and there? You feel like you could potentially fall from your disintegrating house. And your parents, where are they? Why can't you see them? Why can you only hear them saying goodbye back to you from one of the other rooms?

When you open the door to see them- There is nothing there. There is not even a room.

It's a door that leads to nowhere. Just an empty void.

The sensation of dread was starting to creep in yet you thought that it would be uncalled for to overreact. Like you weren't allowed to showcase concern for the odd reality around you.

You walked on foot towards your college, panicking slightly at the people who would fade in and out of existence- Yet you had held yourself from screaming, from showing any sense of vulnerability at the thought that maybe you were in a dangerous place or realm.

You were coded to not find issues with the odd reality around you, like any other npc- You were taught to hold in and try to keep a sense of normality so no players would find issue with screaming characters begging to be freed. But your nervous personality caused you to search for help, you panicked and ended up running away to what you assumed to be a safe place- Somewhere crowded with a lot of people.

The institution's gates were open, you entered like your life depended on it (and maybe it did) yet you stopped yourself from screaming when you noticed a commotion happening.

A guy who was wearing the uniform lazily has bumped into a girl, causing her to fall. She is yelling at him because the fall has broken her phone, he is trying his best to calm her down- But at the same time it feels like he is just making poor choices of words because of how sick he is of having to chat with someone so angry at an accident.

Haven't you seen this before? But if so- When? When could you possibly have seen something like that happen?-

"- [Y/N]?"

"- AAAAH- Oh hey Yuma."

You yelled after getting spooked by Yuma- Who was…. Why are they wearing that?

"- Why aren't you in your uniform, Yumie?" You asked them, showing your own uniform in the process. You called them by a sweet nickname you had given them- But when exactly?

You know that you're best friends with Yuma, but since when? You know it should have been for about 6 years or so, but… It feels like you have only known them for a year- How… Weird.

"- Don't tell me you're already breaking a rule on your first day." You pouted and stomped your fit into the ground. Yes, you know that Yuma is a troublemaker…. You know…. That.

Yuma hasn't been able to speak ever since you showed concern about their outfit. They were staring at you in shock- As if you were an odd creature who they just found.

"- Y-You can see my outfit??" They blurted out. How can you recognize it??? All the other npcs recognize it as their uniform, but why are you suddenly acting like you do??

"- Hm, duh? Sorry Yummie, but that sporty outfit of yours is more eye-catching than that guy's barely well put together uniform- Such bad manners, I bet he woke up and hastily wore the first thing he saw-" You were beginning to go on a rant about that guy's uniform- That guy being the MC of this new save file. Yuma has stopped you by pulling you away from the college's entrance and entering into a secluded area so they could interrogate you over this odd behavior you were displaying.

"- Yummie- What are you doing!?" You cried out feeling hurt by their tight grip on your wrists.

"- WHAT DID YOU CALL MY OUTFIT??" They yelled desperately. Begging for their hypothesis to be corrected.

"- … A breaking of the uniform rule?" You genuinely did not understand where they were talking about.

"- No, No NO! You said Sporty Outfit, right?" They said reminding you of what you have previously commented about their outfit.

"- Oh! Yes, yes I did- And although being somewhat casual looking- It does fit the category of sporty." You readdressed the topic while going on a bit of detail- The usual annoying talk you would always do whenever a dialogue with you was activated.

Yuma was over the edge- They have never, ever met another sentient character with the same a.i as theirs.

They haven't been this happy since a long, long time.

"- You're so annoying!" They screamed, their face showing a bright smile as tears filled their eyes.

"- Yummie that's so rude!-" You were about to defend yourself when they grabbed you and hugged you as tight as they could.

"- You're genuinely so, so, so, so, so, so ANNOYING!!" They continued to go on, laughing while crying, loving every second of this.

You were coded to be their best friend. You were coded to be the one that would balance them out. You were once coded to be someone made to be able to be their lover, but here you are- The real you, free from all the locks that would keep your a.i from growing and understanding them.

If you're able to be sentient, then all of their friends can as well.

You're the personification of a miracle, to Yuma. The personification of hope.

In this scenario, Yuma isn't aware that the player isn't the same alien who has destroyed their digital world, so to them, they can't ever let the player see you getting sentient and becoming aware of your imprisonment.

" If a player finds issues with any of the characters being portrayed, they must return the cartridge to their nearest store to get a factory reset." Such a simple yet frightening tip to Yuma, to any a.i that has suddenly found itself desperate to get out of the system that traps them.

At first, the idea of having someone like them be also aware of the situation is incredible, it's amazing even! You two could possibly work out a way of getting a way to be free- It wouldn't be easy but hopefully you two would be able to have life away from this game and even finding a way of bringing your other friends with you two.

However, after discovering that not only has the cartridge found itself on another planet with another player being the new owner of it- And discovering that it's just a matter of trading places with other people to be able to be free- Yuma would start getting really clingy to you. They have been all alone thinking that they were the only one capable of feeling and thinking for themselves.

Yuma has found those unused events and scattered dialogue, you know?

While they were looking for a possibility, any possibility of getting out- They found those unused files where you two were able to be together.

And although they thought it was weird at first, after seeing you have a better understanding of your current reality and existence- It oddly sounds fitting.

Of course it would be you, the one who always puts them back on the right tracks, to be the second one to want to escape this game.

It 's so fitting.

The idea of being something more than just a best friend to you is starting to sound more and more appealing in their eyes- It's so ironic that you two work together so well.

After Yuma gets their taste of freedom and you try to calm a frightened young guy that wasn't expecting to be suddenly kidnapped and be forced to stay in the game world for a while, you wait for them to find the solution to free everyone without trying to trap anymore "humans"..

No one should be stuck here for the sake of someone else leaving, that's what you have told them.

But Yuma didn't care. Yuma just wanted to be free with you and everyone else, who cares for those that have to deal with a glitchy game for eternity?

You two had an argument. You didn't want to continue feeling like your whole life was a lie, you want to be free but no one should be hurt in the process. What good would it be if someone else has to go through the same torment as you two?

With each day that passes by, you notice how both of your ideas of freedom were different- To the point they had to tell you the truth.

You aren't going out of there anymore. Not until you understand and truly appreciate the effort that Yuma goes through to find a way of freeing you- Of finding a victim, to be in your place.

They never told you about your previously intended role in the game, they thought you would be more terrified of following their instructions- And besides, it would be very distasteful to insinuate that the only reason that they care for you it's because of that code that was left unused- Which couldn't be more of a lie! They genuinely care for you!

…. But maybe a bit of tempering would help you see their side of the story, right?

It can't be that hard to modify some of the codes, the game is already broken anyway.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[marvelfansince08love]

Beneath your scars

Word Count: 3597

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Female!Reader 

Prompts: “You deserve more than this” “You think I’m beautiful” “I can’t live...not with you” “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Warning: angst with a happy ending, mentions of fighting and scars, Mina showing her vulnerable side. NSFW 18+ you’ve been warned lmao. 

A/N: For anon, I hope you enjoy reading. I loved writing this and messing around with Mina’s vulnerable side and delving into her character a bit more. 

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome​ @natasha-danvers​ @imnotasuperhero​

I do not own this gif! 

Prompts 1,8,11,17 Being with Wilhemina Venable was like being on a roller-coaster. You enjoy the ride while it's at its peak heading for that blue sky but then it drops making your stomach curl, wanting to close your eyes as tight as possible while you weave through sharp corners just hoping to get back to the peak within the clouds again. 

You see, being at the peak close to the clouds was when you were at your best with Mina, you both may not admit it but you enjoy being around each other, you enjoy talking into the late nights after a hard day. Mina would travel home from work and take the first exit straight to you without realising it but you'd be there by the door, glass of red in hand for her and her favourite meal set at the table. You'd smile knowingly at her tired face and without a single word uttered you'd take her into your arms and hold her tight. You've both never brought up your relationship status, too scared to ruin what you've created but you both knew it was something special.

Six months down the line and you are still riding that coaster higher and higher into the clouds. One dark night you decide to change up your routine by driving to her home after a stressful day at the office to surprise her. You see, working for the rival company of your lover can be difficult and you both try not to delve into too much information about the companies in fear of clashing and ruining your private bubble you both have created. 

You see to an outsider, your relationship looks  like the classic same-sex relationship with passion and love, but the thing is you and Mina haven’t reached that stage of your relationship yet. Sure, you share heated kisses and flirt like real lovers but your relationship is much more deeper than that. You are each other's comfort, someone to hold tightly to at night when you need it; always full clothed per Mina’s request, who you can moan to about your day, to watch out for you outside the office. 

You both work such demanding jobs it’s difficult to make the relationship any more than just two close friends enjoying each other's company, it would just complicate things or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. 

You pull up into Mina's private driveway, already knowing that she's aware of your arrival from her private security cameras. She stands by the large doorway leaning slightly against her cane, dressed in her signature purple colour. However, one thing that catches your eye making you smile softly is that her usual classic ponytail that holds her beautiful red hair in place is now loose and draped softly down her back.

‘And I get the privilege of seeing her like this’ you think smugly, while gathering your work bag and walking casually over to her.

As you reach the last step towards her front door you smell that familiar scent of vanilla that surrounds the redhead making you sigh, already feeling the tension from the day falling away from you. Mina pushes off of her cane gently and takes a step forward, her hand grasping your work shirt and tugging you close until you feel those cherry red lips lock with your own making you hum lightly.

"That has been the best greeting I've had all day," you comment as you lean back slightly allowing one of your hands to comb through her hair basking in the softness of it.

"Oh? Well I hope I'm the only one who gets to greet you like this or else, I'm going to have to use this cane to whoop some bitche's ass," she murmurs, pulling you close once more and placing a dominant kiss to your lips before leading you into her home. You trail behind slightly admiring the sway of her hips as she takes you through into the kitchen. You place your bag by the doorway before taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"Oh, you’d use the cane now, that's hot." You tease, wiggling your eyebrows playfully at her as she brings over a bottle of red wine to the table before scolding you teasingly.

"Watch it you or I just might," she walks over and places an empty wine glass next to you before placing a gentle kiss to your temple and taking a vacant seat to the side of you. 

You both continued on with your night laughing and ranting about anything and everything, you tease and joke to make her laugh and smile because ‘oh what a beautiful smile she has when she shows it’. After a while, you move towards the living room area and lounge across the sofa, Mina's back against your front as you sit upright against the arm of the sofa. You twirl a stray lock between your fingers as Mina reads from her latest book, you place gentle kisses at the back of her neck making her hum in satisfaction, her head rolling to the side an inch giving you more access.

"Mmm don't start something you can't finish Y/N," she mutters, eyes still glued to the pages of her book. You chuckle quietly before moving her hair to one side and planting a wet kiss on her neck.

"Who says we can't finish hmm?" Mina quickly turns over so she's chest to chest with you, her book falling to the floor as her lips meet yours in a heated kiss. You continue to clash lips, biting down on her delicious full bottom lip making her moan quietly. Hands move to caress one another, her cold hand making its way under your shirt making you squirm as they connect to your warm skin. Her finger tips tentatively graze across your stomach as if hesitant to continue further, you grab a hold of her wrist and bring her hand further up your shirt encouraging her silently to continue. Your hand reaches behind her back grasping the metal zipper of her dress and slowly dragging it down, Mina freezes above you suddenly and rips away from you so quickly you feel like you’ve experienced whiplash. 

You blink a few times trying to gather your bearings again from within the mist of pleasure you were just experiencing. Quickly sitting up, you eye Mina’s guarded form as she quickly re-zips her dress, her face stonic as you practically sits on the armchair, as far away from you as possible. Your heart beats rapidly worried that if you make the wrong move, you’ll scare her away. 

If you have learnt anything about Mina in the last six months, is that Wilhemina Venable may be a hard-ass but underneath that stonic exterior is just a frightened woman wanting to be loved and accepted.  

“Mina are yo-”

“I think you should leave,” She harshly demanded, standing quickly and readjusting herself while grabbing a hold of her cane by the sofa. You stand cautiously and approach her like a frightened animal, stopping just a few inches away watching as her eyes focus on something over your shoulder avoiding your gaze. 

“Miss.Y/L/N, if you could please leave and make sure to delete my number, your presence is no longer required.” Her tone unsympathetic, her lips pierced in a sour fashion. She turns on the spot and heads for the door, the only thing echoing around the room is the sound of her cane hitting the expensive flooring as she approaches the front door. 

You stand still in shock at her suddenly harsh demeanor before shaking your head in disbelief. 

“No.” 

Your defiance causes her hand to pause, hovering over the doorknob she turns her head slightly in your direction from the open doorway facing into the living room. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think your simple mind heard me clearly. I.want.you.to.leave.” She punctures those last few words carefully making sure you heard her loud and clear. 

“No. Not until you tell me why you are going all HR Venable on me. You know I know you better than that!” You grate, anger and confusion raises inside you like an exploded rage of fire. Your voice shakes slightly as you try to hold back your emotions.

‘If Mina can hide behind her devil mask, so can I.’ You think internally. 

“Why do you defy me, Y/N? I’m asking you politely to leave my home, don’t force my hand.”

“Not until you tell me why you are kicking me out. I’m sorry if I overstepped any boundaries, but from what I could hear and feel, you wanted me just as much.” You state, cringing inwardly at your poor choice of words. 

“Don’t tell me what you thought you felt Y/N. I owe you nothing, now get out!” Her raised voice startles you slightly, making you pause thinking of your next move. 

‘You push her to open up, she’ll only close off more’ You remind yourself, deciding to try a different approach. 

“Okay, you want me gone? I’ll go. But first, I want just one answer from you. You at least ‘owe’ me that much,” You compromise, watching as her eyes flash with confliction and hesitance. She moves reluctantly away from the door and towards the open living room still keeping her distance but showing she is willing to listen, her cane stands in front of her with two hands placed atop of it as she stands tall, her eyes holding yours steadily. 

“I’m listening,” 

“Are you afraid of what I’ll think if I see your back?” You ask, making sure you get to the point, knowing how much she hates riddles and pussy footing around questions.

You watch as she visibly flinches at the mention of her condition, her throat bobbing as she struggles to find the right words. You hold your breath for a single moment waiting for the harsh backlash of your question, but sigh subtly when her eyes drop to the floor. Her stoic mask slipping away, showing her true fear and insecurity. 

“Yes,” she barely whispers, making your heart break at the sight. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask, feeling your own unushered tears build watching as she struggles to gather herself, her chin trembling. 

“Because... You deserve more than this… this ugly monster that I am, that hides behind thick purple clothes and her cane.” She laughs humorlessly, shaking her head slightly still keeping her eyes locked onto the flooring. You step closer to her, taking your time to courge her reaction to your approach. 

Once you stand in front of her, you place a finger underneath her trembling chin and lift her face towards your own, making her eyes lock with yours. 

“Wilhemina Venable, you look at me and you listen carefully to my words." You pause, making sure she understands. "You are not a monster and you certainly aren’t ugly. When I look at you, I see a brave woman trying her damn hardest to fight her demons day in day out just wanting someone to help take those demons away and love her for who she is… A beautiful woman who has the most blinding smile to grace this world. "I could die today and would be thankful that your smile was the last thing I saw.” You declare softly, your eyes pleading for her to understand to listen to your words. Her eyes glisten as a single tear drops from those big brown eyes, you move your hands to cup either side of her face brushing the strayed wet tears from her cheekbone. 

“You think I’m beautiful,” She murmurs delicately. A soft frown appearing on her features doubting your statement. You kiss her tear stained face lightly and brush your nose against hers, hearing her unsteady breath as she comes to terms with your declaration.

“Mina, I think you are so much more than that. I know you only wanted this arrangement to help fill some of that physical contact that you’ve been missing lately but I… I can help but feel this is so much more than that now, and if you will allow this to blossom into something worth investing, then I’m all ears. I’m dedicated to you a hundred percent. We all have our demons Mina, we just gotta choose a partner who's willing to help us fight them and to hold our hand when things get rough but, I can’t live...not without you Mina, you are all I have.”

“You deserve more than this.” She insisted, moving her face away from your own as she goes to backtrack towards the front door. 

“When I was 16 I got into my first fight on the streets. I was low in cash but I was good with my fists, some low run of mill back alley street fighting business. The guy I owed money for offered me away out of my debt, so I took it. That’s where I got my first knife scar,” you confess making Mina pause in her steps. She turns back towards you, a confused frown settles deep between her sad eyes but her silence indicates that she wants you to continue with your confession as you slowly unbutton your white work shirt, revealing a simple black bra, you watch as her eyes take in your form zoning in on the individual white lines that scatter across your torso and shoulders. You turn around slowly to reveal more small scars that pattern your back as you let the white material drop to the floor, leaving you bearing your very own hidden past.

“A few weeks later, my debt seemed to be stacking rather than actually going down, so I ended up participating in more than just one fight. That deep red scar near my shoulder blade was from an infected shiv that some amateur thought would win him the fight, he got pretty beaten up for that slip up. They may have been cruel to think of such an idea but they did protect their fighters.” The silence in the room became deafening and you were about to turn around when you heard the sound of her cane hitting the floor softly making you pause as you felt her hand wrap around your bicep as soft lips brush gently around the pointed out scar making you shiver under the touch. 

“You deserved more than that,” she mutters against your skin, almost echoing your words. She squeezes your bicep indicating for you to turn around and face her. Once you face her, you take in her conflicted expression as she debates her next move. You watch in awe as she drops her cane and reaches behind her grabbing onto her own zipper and unfastening the tight dress until she is stood bare, her breast cupped perfectly in her lilac purple bra and fitted thongs showing her curves beautifully. She clears her throat and stands tall, her eyes slowly reaching your own as she holds your gaze. 

“When I was thirteen, I cried for hours to my parents about how painful my back was, particularly around my spine. The pain was excruciating. I've never felt any like it in my life. Kids snickered and pointed at me in school for having this disgusting black back brace

 A couple of years later when I was 15, they operated on it; called it a spinal fusion but the metalwork failed to attach properly. Just another one of god’s cruel tricks,” She breathed unsteadily, trying to stop herself from sobbing. You feel your heart breaking for a young Mina just trying to grow up in a world where people only saw her as a freak for trying to stop herself being in pain. 

“Don’t.” 

“Don’t what, Mina?” 

“Don’t look at me like I need sympathy.” She hoarse, her chin trembling. 

You walk towards her, holding her gaze. You continue to brush past her shoulder softly watching as her eyes close as she realises your intent. You take in her back carefully making sure to take in the scars around her curved spine, lightly tracing the area with your fingertip before pressing a light kiss to one of the scars feeling her shiver and tremble as she silently sobs.

You go to step away, thinking you had overstepped but before you can think, Mina turns around and pulls you close, nose to nose as your hands wrap around her elbows. 

“Take me to bed Y/N, make me forget.” She demands desperately. Your eyes darken at the request as you take a hold of her hand and escort up the stairs of her elegant home.

You notice her hold tighten as she takes the stairs with caution, realising she has left her cane in the living room. You step in front of her and pull her in for a heat kiss before reaching your hands around her thighs. Understanding your intention, Mina allows you to pick her up, wrapping her legs around you as you hold her tight, mouths never leaving one another, making her moan.

“This is the only time I will ever allow you to pick me up, Y/L/N.” She murmurs against your mouth.

“Does that mean there will be more times?” You ask teasingly, as you softly spank her ass while rushing up the stairs. A nipple to your neck is your only reply. 

You enter her bedroom and gently lower her to the bed as you peel away her bra making her gasp lightly as her nipples perk from the cool air. The soft moonlight's glow surrounds the room making her brown eyes sparkle against the light as you softly push her down into the cotton linen. Mina groans at your delicate slow approach, making you grin softly at her impatience.

“Y/N, i’m not a delicate flower. Fuck me,” she moans scooting higher onto the bed, but you can see the slight wince she makes while trying to lie flat. 

“Shh baby, I got you.” You joke as you bring her left leg up, bending it at the knee before kissing it and  leaning over her body slightly as you place her plush pillow under her neck and upper back.  You see her sigh appreciatively at the better position knowing it eases the pressure from her back before you continue to leave wet kisses up her bare thigh, biting softly at the delicate skin leaving your own work of art along her pale skin. Her hands come up to your buttoned up black trousers. 

“You are far too overdressed, sweet girl.” She hoarse as she makes quick work at dragging them down to your knees. You push off the bed to get rid of them before climbing back onto the bed and kiss her navel and up towards her breasts as she squirms beneath you making you chuckle huskily, your lips hovering over her own red ones.

“So impatient, Ms.Venable.” You tease, as you suck against the delicate skin on her neck. 

You continue to tease and pleasure her all the while making sure she was comfortable throughout. You both make quick work at riding all underwear as you hover above her, gently rubbing her bundle of nerves with your index finger watching her moan and wither below you. You continue your steady pace until her hips are thrusting higher wanting more contact. You ease a finger into her entrance watching her mouth open wide at the new sensation as she rides your single digit while continuing to torture her clit with your thumb. 

“Mm.. more.. I need..ahh.. I need more,” She breathes, stuttering over her words as she rides out her pleasure. You kiss her moans silencing them with your mouth and tongue. You continue your pace before inserting another digit watching her eyes roll back in pleasure. 

“Yes…I... That’s it baby,” her words of satisfaction eggs you on to increase the pace making her cry out loud.  

You watch her reach her peak as she grabs tightly to the back of your head bringing your forehead against hers as she allows her own release, making you moan with her. 

“You look so good coming undone beneath me.” You comment smugly, knowing just how much Mina loves to be in control of things and being on top.

“I bet you would look even better beneath me.” 

“Wha-” Before you can finish your word you're suddenly laying flat on your back staring up at those big brown eyes and devilish smirk as red hair flows beautifully acting as curtains hiding our faces within her red hair.  

“Mmm, your right. The view up here is much better." She mocks, her eyes flash teasingly, making you shiver at the sight. 

“Do your worse, Venable.” You challenge, settling into the soft mattress. She places scattering kisses on your scars making sure to appreciate every single one until she reaches the final one just below your navel, smirking up at you. 

***

As the sunlight seeps through the window greeting you to a new day,  you think back to the late night as you bask in the weight that lays against your body. Soft snores coming from the naked redhead, smirk slightly as you realise two things from last night. Mina has a very talented tongue and one wicked mouth that you know you will continue to love for all your days and second, you will continue to show her just how beautiful she is both inside and out. 

[yangsrose]

Cheater Route: No (ending one)

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, mentions of making out, and mentions of cursing, angst

Authors Notes: (reposting since it’s not showing up in the tags) Before I start I just want to say thank you for showing this so much love!! 🥺🥺 I actually thought of this idea in the middle of AP Bio and wanted to write about it but didn’t know how it would turn out since this is my first time writing something like this. I actually ended up liking the format and might continue on with this type of writing in the future and I’m so excited for it!! Okay enough of my ranting lol onto the second ending...

You stared at him with a blank look as you scanned his face. His eyes and nose were red, and he seemed as if he had been crying nonstop. You scoffed and tried to close the door, not wanting to see him ever again. YangYang saw your arm moving towards the doorknob and quickly stuck his foot in the doorway, preventing the door from closing.

“Please. Just let me explain” he pleaded. You looked down at the ground, refusing to look him in the eye since you knew that it would result in you allowing YangYang to come inside.

“I’m sorry YangYang. What you did today made me lose my trust in you.  I don’t think I can ever allow you back into my life after what you did to me. I think it’s best if you just leave. I’ll give you your stuff back tomorrow.” you said before shutting the door. You heard YangYang sigh and mutter a curse under his breath before knocking again. You stood your ground and refused to open the door, instead opting to walk into the kitchen and place the pan back in the cabinet where you took it out of. You slowly walked back into your room and began taking out all of YangYang’s belongings, placing them into boxes so that you could give them back to him tomorrow. You felt your eyes slowly become misty as you remembered the times that you would sift through his closet, trying to find a hoodie to wear. Now, they were all just clothes in a box waiting to go to their owner. It took about two hours to devoid your room of anything remotely close to YangYang, and with each item removed, you felt a little piece of your heart crack and fall off.

You climbed into your bed and willed your brain to stop thinking and allow you to sleep, but all you could see was YangYang making out with someone other than you. You squeezed your eyes in a vain attempt to prevent any tears from leaking out, but all that effort went to waste as they still fell onto your pillow, staining your cheeks and causing your eyelids to feel heavier than the weight in your heart.

You woke up the next morning and looked at yourself in the mirror. The reflection that stared back at you was almost unrecognisable. The usually bubbly and happy person was now a puffy eyed, red nosed, and gloomy person, face void of any emotions. You sighed and splashed a bit of cold water on your face, hoping that the temperature change would cause you to look somewhat alive.

You packed up and loaded all the boxes into your car before leaving for university, making sure not to leave anything behind. As you pulled up to the familiar building, you saw YangYang’s car parked next to the place where you would normally park your car. You sighed and parked into your designated palace, making sure not to make eye contact with YangYang.

You got out of the car after grabbing your belongings and heard YangYang shuffling to exit his car so that he could have a chance to talk to you. You ignored his soft voice calling your name and pleading to just listen to him for once. You instead opted to take out the boxes from your car and place them in front of YangYang. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy with dark circles around them, and anyone looking at him would know that he didn’t sleep at all last night. The mere sight of him was enough to make you feel pity, but you chose to stand your ground and instead explain to him what the boxes were.

“Here. These are your stuff from the apartment. I made sure to pack everything so after this you have no need to visit me or come to the apartment again.” With that, you turned around and left YangYang standing in confusion. You heard him call your name and with each call, the temptation to turn around and run back to him grew stronger. But deep down inside, you knew that what you just did was the right decision and that you should not give YangYang another chance to mend his mistake.

After getting back home from university, you made sure to block and delete his phone number, as well as blocking and deleting any posts involving him on social media. Your friends called and texted you, wondering what happened in between you and YangYang. You instead opted to turn off your phone and wallow in your own sadness as you watched random movies playing on Netflix.

In the following days, you would see YangYang on the path to your classes, but every time you would come close to getting in contact with him, you would turn around and walk the other way, even if that meant that you would be late for your next class.

Over time, you would see YangYang less and less, until it got to the point where you would go without seeing YangYang for an entire day. You pretended to be fine with the absence in your life, trying to convince yourself that his disappearance was only for the better.

Your friends tried to set you up with other people as a means of getting over your ex, but each date that you went on left you more empty  as you would get reminded of the dates that YangYang would take you on.

One particular night however, you went to a fancy restaurant with one of your dates. He was a nice person, and you would be lying if you said that you weren’t catching feelings for him. As you walked into the restaurant, you walked over to your table and sat across your date, making small talk with him as you waited for your orders to arrive. You heard a “Oh my gosh yes!” from a customer in the restaurant. As you made eye contact with the owner of the sound, you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to water. It had been a little bit less that two years since you had last seen him, but nothing would ever prepare you to face YangYang once again after all these years. He looked the same as he did when you had broken up with him, but just as you saw the familiar gummy smile take over his face, you could help but draw your attention to the shimmering jewel  that currently rested in the small velvet box. You recognised the woman that he was currently proposing to as the person that he cheated on you with, and with that prompt, you couldn’t help but allow the tears to flow freely down your face as you hastily picked up your purse and ran out of the restaurant. You heard your date yell your name, but the only thing on your mind was getting away from YangYang as fast as you could.

As you exited the restaurant, the cold air pierced your skin as you ran to your car to escape the outside world. As you opened the car door, your sobs gradually increased to the point where you couldn’t even see past the tears formulating in your eyes.

After what seemed like hours, you slowly felt your heart rate decrease and felt the tears in your eyes clear up. You darkly chuckled and went over the scene that had taken place prior to your emotional breakdown. As thoughts of anger and betrayal clouded your mind, you heard a giggle come from the entrance of the restaurant. You panicked and attempted to start your car in an endeavor to leave without being noticed. Your efforts went in vain though as YangYang made eye contact with you as he passed in front of your car with his now fiancee. You saw his eyes grow wide as he recognised you, but instead of waving or noticing you, he turned around and proceeded to dote on his lover. The sight of that made your eyes water up once again and you pulled out of the parking lot, feeling more sad and empty than you had ever felt before. Maybe not everyone was meant to have a happy ending.

[itsanidiom]

Tagged by both @pb-nj and @deepwoundsandfadedscars~<3 <3

1. why did you choose your url?

It’s from an argument I had with my sister once LOL she mixed up the idiom ‘under my belt’ and said ‘I’ve got that behind my belt’. A lot of people get that idiom wrong and me being a little shit was like ‘um actually...’ LOL anyway the argument ended with me shouting ‘IT’S AN IDIOM’ ...but also I just really like idioms in all languages <3 

2. any side-blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

QUITE A FEW: Luxor City book blog: @the-empires-of-luxor-city Music blog: @pianissimomezzoforte Future book aesthetic blog (VuX): @vanguard-unit-x Future book aesthetic blog (Swan Lake): @lebedinoeozero

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

According to my mass post editor April 2011 but I know it was actually summer 2010 so I probably deleted a lot of old posts LOL

4. do you have a queue tag?

No~ I think I just queue things sometimes and don’t mention if it’s a queue or not LOL I am on here at random times all the time anyway so you’d never know XD

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

I graduated HS in 2010. I got into a summer art school program to learn about First Nations art because I’m like 1/8 Seminole. A friend in class was like “have you heard of tumblr?” and I was like “No” and thus I was sucked into this place and doomed to spend eternity wandering the...

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Because Oscar Isaac is BAE and Disney did him dirty (along with everyone else in The Force Awakens)

7. why did you choose your header?

Because TOG is one of the best action movies I’ve seen in a LONG time and I love it and I need 2 Old 2 Guard NETFLIX PLEASE STOP CLOWNING ME (;A;)

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

Ah yes~ Les temps de ‘Les Misérables’~ I miss that fandom haha 

9. how many mutuals do you have?

I dunno! Quite a few over the years, but many are not active anymore.

10. how many followers do you have?

too many...I love you all but why are you here? lol <3

11. how many people do you follow?

201

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

Yes...but not too often...cause if they blow up i must suffer the consequences

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

Your honor...I plead the 5th

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

This also harkens back to the Les Misérable days. I got into a lot of fights with people who thought they knew French and the works of Victor Hugo better than me (fyi: they didn’t). I will always remember this one because it was so stupid and made me SO mad. They were arguing with me about how to pronounce something in French. I have shitty French now yes but I grew up going to French school so I know how to pronounce shit. It was literally Enjolras’ name (“Ahn-Jol-Rah” vs “Ahn-Jol-Ras”). I was like the ‘s’ is pronounced if there’s a vowel starting the next word after it but it’s not pronounced if you just say his name like “Il s'appelle Enjolras” vs “Enjolras a quitté le café”. Anyway they were like “YOU’RE FUCKING STUPID MY GRANDMA IS HALF FRENCH AND SHE SAID...” I just blocked them... LOL (^^;) Anyway enjoy the mini French lesson and rant

15. how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

I usually don’t reblog the post...guilt tripping isn’t my schtick...

16. do you like tag games?

Yeah! I like answering them but sometimes I don’t like thinking about who to tag (see question 20)

17. do you like ask games? 😊

Also yes~!

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Well, I’m still somehow mutuals with @brilcrist​‘s side blog @brilandsurrounding​ (LOL let’s remind her she has a side blog again after like 5 years XD) her art is freaking amazing though she’s mainly migrated away from tumblr during the great purge (follow her on IG you won’t regret). 

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

Ehhhhh...no...

20. tags?

No tags~ we end here like kings~ XD

[colourofthekites]

Rant Incoming cause hoo boy I am mad

First of all, apologies to all of you guys, gals and non-binary pals who may have to scroll past this but i am hella irritated and i need to get my emotions out.

So I matched with this guy on tinder in 2019, lets call him J for ease. We talked, added each other on snap, had the funsies and that’s it. We talked outside of nude swapping but didn’t have much to connect on. At this time i was also talking to other guys on tinder. J kept trying to arrange a meet up even though i wasn’t really interested so i kept shooting him down, also cause i was seeing another guy.

I get a few messages from him from time to time.. I posted a song on my insta story with the caption “hope they come to Manchester” and J replied with “I’ve looked up tickets cause I want to see you”. I didn’t reply. Get a snap saying he’s in Manchester and I was like “bruh wtf I’m not meeting with you, i’ve got stuff on”

Cut to 2020. I get a BF at the end of Jan, but I still have J on snap even though i haven’t heard from him in a while. He messages, tries to meet up again and when i say “I’ve got a BF, and I want to be with him”, J responds with “you should break up with him and be with me instead”. That bothered me so i told him “no wtf” and got rid of him on snap.

Nothing happens for the rest of 2020 but in september at 2am, i get a message on insta saying he has followed me again and he wants to catch up. I don’t respond and end up deleting the message. A month later, after I had broken up with my BF, he messages me again at 3am and says “we met on tinder, do you even remember me?”. Again, I ignore and delete the message cause J still makes me uncomfortable. I get one final message from him before xmas saying “we used to talk on snap, here is mine”

Finally, J follows me on twitter. I get nothing for a few weeks then, literally half an hour ago, he replies to a tweet I made and when i don’t reply, tags me in a tweet saying “why won’t [Mark] reply to me?” and I was like, bitch that is it. I blocked him on twitter and insta. Like how many times until he gets the hint??? 

I don’t owe J any explanation for why i don’t reply, I am not interested. Plus i can tell he only messages me when drunk and/or horny. Drives me nuts that J thinks he is king sh*t and that he can get away with that bullshit. Just cause you’ve seen me naked once on snap, doesn’t mean you can get all passive aggressive on me. Cause let me tell you, i rarely block people but i’ll make an exception

Sorry, rant over

[spikecriminalminds]

I have a tendency to write posts and then delete them, never post them or even save them in my drafts I just write and delete. I don’t like to vent to people because I feel like a bother but I’ve decided that I’m going to do it this time. I’ve recently realized that the thing I need to rant about is the reason I feel this way.

I’m so fucking done with fake friends. Recently in my life I’ve come to the realization that most of my closest friends are my family, and my best friend was the only person outside of my family who was ever really there for me and I didn’t even consider him my best friend until last night when I finally ranted about all of this to him. My best friend since the sixth grade and I had been going through a rough patch because I started hanging out with a really manipulative “friend” and she ended up taking up all of my time but I never realized because she was manipulative.

My old best friend confronted me about it. And at first I will admit, this was my fault and I am the one who didn’t do a good job fixing it, I didn’t know how to break things off with the other girl. My friend and I sat down one day and had a long conversation the summer before out junior year of high school and things were getting better. But when my friend found out that I was now a personal trainer for my other “friend’s” brother and sometimes she would tag along, she got upset because the summer before working out together had been our thing. But the thing is, I invited her to come workout with me before I went to what literally was just my job. She said no. She was busy the whole summer I was the one trying to make plans, which is a big deal for me because that’s one of the things that my social anxiety doesn’t let me do, and she should have known that.

The school year came around and she ditched me for a different girl. As a promise to my sister for her senior year I said I would go to all of the school dances. At the dance my friend completely ignored me. I was tired of us not being friends I wanted her back so I talked to her out in that hall and the moment I try to explain my side of the story it’s turned back around on me. How it’s my fault, I want’s making an effort. I believed her.

Despite the fact that I was pushing myself so far out of my comfort zone setting up times to hang out, and not checking my phone for a whole day so my focus is only on her, when on my phone is one of the places I feel most comfortable because of my social anxiety. I initiated the conversation to fix things and I don’t like talking about my emotions, she should know that, but I still was the one not making the effort.

The thing that bothers me the most now is how she was allowed to use her depression and anxiety as a crutch but I couldn’t use mine as a legitimate explanation as to why it was hard for me. I understand that she was going through a hard time and those things are hard, but she was telling people that I’m the reason she had depression. I know that our relationship could have been the cause of one or many depressive episodes, but I did not cause her to have medically diagnosed depression.

The things she told me about how it was my fault, made me want to commit suicide and the reason I didn’t was because I was worried that she might feel guilty and I didn’t want my friend to think that it was her fault, or my family to thing it was any of their faults. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago at a barbecue that I decided I was done. She showed up and she didn’t even say hi. Then as soon as I was going to leave she comes over grabs my arm and says “I’m stealing you”. I was excited because this was the kind of stuff we used to do, but then she drags me over to the group she been hanging out with. She doesn’t even sit next to me, she doesn’t talk to me and I’m on the verge of a panic attack because I don’t know most of those people and the one person I was comfortable with wouldn’t even sit next to me.

As soon as I left to find my mom and tell her we needed to go home, I broke down. I couldn’t breath, I was crying. The last time I’d had such a bad panic attack was at that dance earlier in the year, and then when my dog almost got hit by a truck. Once I had calmed down, my mom told me something that made me look at the entire thing over again. She said “Her dragging you into her circle isn’t effort, it’s her saying, ‘Look I’m making an effort, what are you going to do?’. Because either you can be alone sitting by yourself, or you can be alone in that circle of people.”

After that I decided I was done. I looked back on our relationship and realized just how bad it was from the start. She liked attention and I knew that there isn’t anything wrong with that but it was always about her. When we first talked about the possibility of me having depression, her response was that if I was diagnosed she would call me her depresso espresso, she was allowed to make fun of me and tease me for my depression, but I wasn’t even allowed to slightly joke about hers with her.

I remember one instance in particular, when I was first struggling with my sexuality. I came to her, I came to her for comfort, not even necessarily support, just someone to say it’s okay, you’ll be okay. The only thing she could say to me is, no you’re not, just pray about it. As if I hadn’t been praying about it this whole time, as if I had just then decided that maybe I was bisexual. She told me that it was a good thing I told her because the boy who I now consider my best friend would have hated me if I talked to him. But everytime I talk to my real best friend there is no judgement, there is no I have to listen, it’s not about me.

If there is ever a possibility that my old friend changes and wants to be friends again I’m going to welcome her back with open arms, but I’m done dealing with her bulshit. I’m not going to keep fighting for our friendship if she won’t return the action and will them blame it on me. I’m not going to fight for a chance to be her therapist again who never gets a chance to speak.

Sorry that was long, but I really needed to get all of that out.

[kayteewritessteve]

DT - Drunk Twitter 1/3

Description: One stupid drunken night leads to an uncomfortable week from hell. That only gets worse when you are forced to face the problems, that your drunken escapades caused, head on. Yeah, you are never going to drink ever again.

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 8,380 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG.

Warnings: Lots of curse words, awkward moments, and a slightly frustrated reader. Little angst here and there, but lots of stupid humour.

Requested: Nah, this just randomly popped into my head and I ran with it.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

You groan loudly as your hand flails out from under your duvet cocoon, blindly searching for the hellish contraption that currently insists on screaming at you. It is far too early for such an ungodly sound, and you are far too hungover for this shit right now.

Your hand finally makes contact with the screeching little asshole that is your alarm clock, causing a loud smash to echo through the room, just from the sheer force of your flailing limb alone. And then instantly your room falls back into silence once again. Though the constant ringing in your ears, both from the alarm and your hangover, makes that last fact slightly unknown to you in this moment.

You groan, grumbling incoherently as you pull your hand back into the warmth of the little blanket bundle that has now become your life. You plan to spend the rest of your days just hiding in this dark little cove, and then eventually one day dying here. Which from the aches and pains wreaking havoc on you currently, might be sooner, rather than later.

Why the hell did you drink so much?! Who let you polish off two bottles of wine last night?! Like, where the hell was your adult?! Clearly from this day forward you’d need someone to constantly make life choices for you, so that you never ended up in this position ever again.

You vow in this exact moment, that from this day on you will never ever drink again.

But then you remember your best friend's birthday is in 2 weeks, and you groan loudly. Okay, so you kinda have to drink for that, but mark your words now, that will be the very last time that you do!

Your phone buzzes on your bed beside you, lighting up the dark little fortress you’ve created around yourself. And whelp, looks like you never plugged it in last night. You’re honestly surprised it’s even still alive. You’d have to write a tweet to Apple about how their phone actually made it 24 hours on one charge. You’re sure that’s something they’d like to know about, as that was a highly uncommon thing to actually happen.

You reach over to grab your phone, picking it up and bringing it close to your face, before hissing at the brightness and yanking it away with such force you’re surprised you didn’t fling it across the room. You squint your eyes as you fumble to turn the brightness down, and once you successfully have you bring the screen back to you. Directly in front of your face so your blurry, dry eyes can actually read it.

And instantly you gasp loudly, your eyes watching as notification after notification pops up on your lock screen. Your twitter is blowing up right now and a cold sweat promptly rips through you. Because oh God, did you do it again?! Did you seriously post something while stupidly drunk again?!

Fuck. You groan, unlocking your phone quickly to check. Because for some ungodly reason, drunk you always insisted on posting the stupidest tweets. Normally you’d wake up the next morning, hungover and a little closer to death than the day before, and you’d open your twitter to find all the ridiculous shit you’d posted about, the previous night. Usually all of which only had maybe a retweet or two, a couple likes and usually at least one comment—thanks to your lovely best friend. Her comments normally consisting of both laughing at you and calling you out for being a crazy drunk tweeter. She just knew you and your quirks far too well. It was seriously a problem.

But this time, this time was clearly entirely different. However that was just an educated guess, due mainly to the hundreds of notifications that you now had, thanks to whatever your dumb drunk ass had posted, which had obviously blown up. And now you’d be lucky if you could sweep it under the rug like you’d always done in the past.

Oh God, please don’t let it be another praising tweet to some figure head or celebrity. That seemed to be your go to favourite thing to drunk-tweet. You had this weird need to cheer random strangers up when you were drunk. This insistent desire to support and appreciate the people you idolized. Oh please God say you didn’t tag the person the tweet was about this time.

Your shaky thumb clicks the iconic blue and white, Twitter app icon. Completely ignoring the ridiculous number in the little red circle on the icons top right corner, as you do. You haven’t even read the tweet yet and already you’re freaking the fuck out.

You quickly make your way to your profile and your eyes widen at the insanely large rant, that’s continued through multiple separate tweets, and is now sitting at the top of your page. Your eyes skim over them all, in order of posting, and you cringe, truly and utterly mortified now.

‘Do you ever just hear of someone in passing, or see them in the media, and have this instantaneous deep longing emotion within you. Not a longing in the sense of wanting them, but entirely due to hoping with everything inside you that they find their true happiness one day..’

‘..‪That they wake up in a few years and smile, like truly smile, because they are exactly where they wanted to be. Where they deserved to be. That they’d ended up with every desire they had yearned for. And I’m not talking about material objects. I’m talking life goals and accomplishments..’‬

‪‘..I’m talking about the true important aspects of life. The things that actually matter in the grand scheme of it all. Well, that is how I feel whenever someone brings up Steve Rogers. Or whenever I see an article or a news story about him. I instantly have this desperate want for him..’‬

‪‘..to be happy. Truly and utterly happy. The man deserves exactly that, and yet so much more. What with everything he has done for us and this planet. If anyone in this world has earned their happily ever after, it’s that man.’ ‬

‪Oh God. You groan, as your free hand comes up to cover your face in sheer horror and embarrassment. I mean, at least the silver lining here is you didn’t make any major spelling mistakes, and you also luckily, completely forget to actually tag him in it. So those are both small victories, in and of themselves. ‬

‪But the fact parts of that rant had blown up, regardless of you actually tagging him, is a little disheartening. You’re pretty sure he’s either seen it or been informed about it by now. And even if by the off chance he hasn’t, you know it’s only a matter of time before that changes. ‬

‪You scroll through the notifications and you feel your heart stop, as all the blood leaves your body and goes—honestly who knows where it goes, but it definitely doesn’t stick around to be apart of this train wreck of a situation. You abruptly sit up, the blankets falling from your upper body and pooling around your waist now.

‪Tony Stark retweeted your post. ‬

‪5 little words that make you want to delete every social media account you currently have, plus move to ‬Lesotho or something. Never heard of Lesotho? Well, that’s exactly why you’d picked to move there. Because most people don’t really know it even exists, nor where to find it on a map. So it would be the perfect place to hide away, and start a new life under a fake name.

Yup, it’s settled. Pack your bags, we’re moving to Lesotho!

You don’t even have it in you to read Mr. Starks response back to your tweets, nor dig any further into your notifications to see who else may have retweeted this whole mess. God, what is wrong with yo—

Your phone ringing scares the complete shit out of you, damn near chucking the metal brick across your room, for the second time this morning if anyone is keeping tabs, as your heart thumps loudly in your chest. However, you manage to keep a firm grip on your phone, but just barely. Effectively saving the thing from an untimely death, thanks to being forcefully introduced to your bedrooms brick wall.

Though come to think of it, maybe smashing it would be the best option here?

You sigh deeply as you finally notice it’s your best friend calling, a groan leaving your throat as you then instantly realize that she is probably calling thanks to your stupid Drunk Twitter rant. You contemplate not answering for a second, you could pretend you’re still asleep. But you know she’ll just keep calling until you answer, or worse, she’ll just show up at your house and let herself in with her spare key. Then you won’t have the luxury of hanging up on her if her teasing gets to be too much.

So as you click the answer button and hesitantly raise the phone to your ear, you prepare yourself for your incoming humiliation. I mean, more so than your already currently experiencing. Which is both surprising and frustrating, because who knew you could ever be this mortified in real life? You certainly didn’t, but yet here you are.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” Lindsey’s loud voice mixed with her unabashed laughter rings out of the phones speaker, it’s so loud that you instantly yanked the phone away from your ear. Your headache coming back tenfold as you groan loudly and message the side of your skull.

“Giiiiirl!!” She hollers now, and so lustrously that you can hear her perfectly, even with the phone still being nowhere near your ear. “What the hell were you drinking last night? And where can I get me some!”

You grumble out a, “you need to lower your voice or I’m hanging up on you.”

“Awe, is someone a little hungover today?” She coos in a motherly voice, though at a much quieter level now, at least enough to warrant putting the phone back to your ear once again. However her voice may be softer now, but the playful and teasing edge to her tone is as loud as a freaking bomb.

“More like dead,” you mumble falling back down to lay on your bed and slinging your free arm over your eyes. “Or at least I wish I was.”

Her gleeful cackle rings out of the phones speaker now. “Girl, don’t say that! I’d miss you too much, and you’re fucking famous now!”

You just groan, not even remotely interested in what she means by that.

“Oh, and why am I famous now, Lindsey?” She says in a mocking tone, clearly trying to impersonate you, but in your opinion not coming anywhere close. “It’s so wonderful you should ask Y/N! Probably because your tweets are all over the news stations, social media and the internet. Even most of the Avengers have already retweeted it, most notably Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson AND Bucky Barnes. Ya know, all of Steve Roger’s best friends. But yet, no one has commented on whether the recipient of your beautiful drunken words has actually seen it or not. Buuuuut we can all assume he probably has.”

“Can we just not do this today?” You roll onto your side, your free hand now pulling the duvet up and over your head again. “I am in far too much pain and far too humiliated to be having this conversation right now. Can we please, for the love of all things that are holy, talk about something else? Anything else, I beg you!”

“Hell no!” She exclaims, you wincing at the abrupt volume change. “My best friend is famous! And all because she drank too much wine and tweeted a ridiculously sweet rant about thee Captain America! Honestly, this. Is. Just. Too. Damn. Good.” She squeals, “you can’t even write better shit than this!”

“Lindsey,” you groan, “I am way too hungover and under caffeinated for this right now. Seriously, I’m going to hang up now and hopefully fucking die.”

“Fine, fine,” she relents but you can still hear the humour in her voice, “I promise I’ll drop it, for now. But get your sexy ass out of that bed and meet me in the kitchen STAT.”

“Uuugh,” you drag the sound out. “You’re freaking in my house right now, aren’t you?”

“I am,” she says gleefully. “But before you flip shit, don’t. I brought coffee and bagels, so be a good girl and get your ass out here or I’m going to eat all of it myself.”

You don’t even respond as you hang up the phone, she had you at ‘coffee’. You quickly flip the blankets off yourself and roll out of bed. Not even bothering to check yourself out in the mirror because honestly, Lindsey has seen you at your worst. So she is entirely used to this from you.

You trudge your way out to the kitchen, seeing your best friend pulling wrapped food from a brown bag and you groan again, but this time happily. Her eyes dart up to you and she gives you a once over, a small frown on her lips now.

“Oh boo thang, you look horrendous,” she says softly, sweetly, as you reach her, and she hands you the large to go cup of coffee. “Drink this. Then go jump in the shower, you stink like shame and poor life choices,” she scrunches up her nose playfully.

“I honestly don’t think a shower will remove those particular smells from my skin. I think that’s just my natural scent now,” you giggle as you take a deep waft of the glorious life juice’s warm aroma, a content sigh coming out on the exhale. You bring the drink to your lips and almost moan. Yes, you are this much of a coffee nut. You take a few generous gulps then stumble over to the counter stools and plop down. “But a shower does sounds like a good plan,” you nod, the cup staying close to your mouth for quick and easy access.

She hums in agreement, nodding as she hands you a wrapped up bagel. “So, should we talk about what caused you to want to get ‘Sappy Drunk Tweets’ wasted last night or?”

You sigh, “I just had a shit day at work. My boss was a raging asshole, yet again.” You shake your head, “but what’s new?”

“I can not stand that evil little man!” Your friend growls. “You seriously need to find a new job, Y/N. You can’t keep working for that piece of shit anymore. And I honestly don’t think your poor liver can take much more of these semi frequent beatings. Somethings gotta change.”

“I know, I know,” you nod, “I’ve been searching for something else, but there just isn’t many available jobs at the moment. But I’m hopeful I’ll find something soon.” You take another large gulp of the sweet, sweet liquid gold, feeling as the warmth radiates throughout your whole body, as your brain slowly begins to rejoin the land of the living.

It’s been a few days since your stupid drunken escapades on Twitter, and a few days since Lindsey visited. You both had enjoyed your coffee and bagels, talking about everything and nothing. Luckily she had kept the drunk tweet talk to a minimum, like she promised. And once you were all done that, Lindsey headed off to work and you hopped in the shower, before spending the entire day on your couch, watching movies and pointedly ignoring your phone. Or rather, the never ending string of notifications on said phone.

So now you’ve been basically hiding out since then, only leaving your house to go to work or to make a quick trip to the store down the block from your apartment. The stupid tweets are still blowing up, people are still retweeting them and talking about them.

You’d hoped this would have all blown over by now, that something else ridiculous would have come along and stolen everyone's attention. But alas, you aren’t that lucky. Because not a damn thing is going on in the world right now, obviously, as everyone is still very much hung up on your whole embarrassing sap fest.

So much so that you are being recognized now as the ‘Steve Tweet Woman’. Which is just fucking outstanding—ha! not!

News outlets, websites and talk shows have been blowing up your phone and email, asking for comments or to set up interviews. Wanting to know if anyone from Steve’s camp has reached out to you, or if you’ve been invited to the tower to meet the team. Also asking if you and the Avengers are now friends, or at the very least acquaintances. And those are just a few of the things they are asking you. Honestly, those are the least ridiculous questions—which is freaking sad.

So leaving your house has become a damn chore now, you have to wear a full disguise just in the hopes no one recognizes you. This is not what you wanted at all. Shit, you don’t even know what you wanted from making that tweet, but this for sure was not it. Not even close.

You’d avoided Twitter along with all your social media playforms since that dreadful morning, as well. You were just too overwhelmed with all the notifications and messages you’d been receiving ever since. Far too many to ever read, let alone even keep up with. Nor did you want to see what any of them actually said.

You sigh, trying to focus back on your computer monitor. You were currently at work, hiding out in your cubicle and keeping your head down.

At the moment you worked as a writer for a news and entertainment website, much like Buzzfeed but nowhere near as large or well known—And I know! Ironic right? Uuuugh! Your damn life was just such a joke.

Your cubicle neighbour, Tyler, springs up over your divider wall. His arms resting on the top as his chin sits on them, a small frown on his face. So this obviously isn’t going to be good.

“Do I even want to know?” You ask quietly before he can utter a word.

He sighs, “probably not. But sadly you kinda have to know.”

“Okay,” you spun slightly in your chair to face him fully. “I’m ready, lay it on me.”

“The boss saw your tweets,” he starts and you wince in embarrassment. “He messaged me as your email keeps sending his messages back undelivered. So you should probably check into that, but first, he wants to see you in his office.”

You groan, dropping your forehead onto your desk with a thud, “my email has been so swamped the last few days that I shut down the receiver.”

“Understandable,” he says quietly, and you can hear that the frown is still present on his face.

“Does he want to see me now?” You peek up at him.

He nods, “yeah, said it was urgent.”

“Shit,” you mumble and sit up, grabbing a notebook and pen quickly as you stand from your chair. “Well, wish me luck, hopefully he doesn’t just fire me the second I walk through the door.”

Tyler shakes his head, “he’d be an even bigger idiot than we all currently think he is, if he did that. Don’t sweat it, at worst he’ll probably just throw a tantrum and give you a slap on the wrist.”

“On second thought, I think I’ll just quit instead,” you say playfully as you walk out of your cubicle. Hearing Tyler’s deep chuckle behind you as you do.

“But then who will keep me entertained everyday?”

“You’ll find someone,” you giggle, shrugging. “My replacement, most likely. Though sadly they will never be as awesome as me!”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he agrees as he lowers back down into his chair and you continue on towards your bosses office.

A moment later you find yourself standing outside of his closed door, notepad clutched to your chest. You have no idea what this impromptu meeting will be about, but you can only assume it has something to do with your stupid drunken posts.

You take a deep breath in, raising your fist up to knock on the door. And a moment later hearing a muffled and authoritative, “enter.” God, he really was just such an entitled asshole.

You open the door and peek your head in, “you wanted to see me, Sir?”

He glances up and nods, “ah, Y/N. Yes, come in.”

You quickly open the door and make your way into his office, closing the door and then hastily moving to stand in front of him.

He interlocks his fingers together and rests his hands on his desk, just staring at you. “Why isn’t your email working?”

“Oh, uh,” you shift awkwardly in your spot. “I um, I shut it off for a bit.” You nod, “just till I could get caught up on the emails I already have.”

He raises a brow at you, “your email is being swamped with messages, I take it?”

You nod again, “ah yes, Sir.”

“Does that have anything to do with the tweets you sent out last week?”

You almost groan, almost, but manage to contain it. “It—it does, Sir.”

He nods, glancing to his monitor, “now normally, foolish shenanigans such as this would be grounds for termination. And I was going to fire you for the embarrassment you’ve brought on this company, but I had a change of heart. So you won’t be losing your position just yet.”

You nod slowly, wishing you could give this idiot a piece of your mind. But your need to pay bills and have a job forces you to bite your tongue. “Oh, um, thank you, Sir.”

“But,” he flicks his beady eyes back to you, “you will have to make this up to me.”

You almost gulp, what the hell does that even mean?! “Um, how,” you clear your throat, “how exactly would you like me to do that?”

He leans back in his chair, a smirk on his lips. One that instantly causes a chill to run down your spin, and this time you do gulp. “There is a press conference in 3 days. You are going to attend it on behalf of our website.”

You nod, following along so far, and honestly this doesn’t sound so bad. Getting to be at a conference first hand is a huge accomplishment. Being trusted enough to be the one present is a big deal in this company. Normally only seasoned writers get to attend such functions.

Yet, something about this feels...off. Like there is a shoe about to drop nearby and you can’t shake that thought. “Okay, um of course, Sir. But what is the press release for, exactly?”

His smirk grows into a full blown grin and your heart rate picks up instantly because of it. “I’m so glad you should ask,” he nods, “It's a press conference for the Avengers. They are opening their new facility and are holding a press junket to cut the rope and answer some questions.”

And instantly you choke on air, no joke, then coughing a few times to clear your airway. Because oh fuck. Fuckity fucking fuck fuck. Why you?! Why does life always do this to you?!

“Um, Sir,” you start quietly once you stop coughing. “I don’t um—this is not to say that I’m not completely honoured that you’d choose me for this job. But uh, I really don’t think it’s a good idea to send me to this. Not with everything currently going on, at least.” You swallow thickly, your hands turning clammy as your nerves pick up. “There, ah, there has to be someone more qualified to send to this event. Ya know, someone other than me.”

He shakes his head, “there isn’t. And even if there was, I can’t send anyone else. You were specifically asked for by name, we weren’t even originally supposed to attend this press release. Only larger media outlets were invited.” He opens his top drawer in his desk and pulls out an access pass on a lanyard, holding it out to you. You gingerly step forward to take it then take a few hasty steps back once it’s in your grasp. “You were the only one invited, and were given an all access pass for the whole event.”

You gaped at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as you glance between your boss and the press pass currently in your hand. “But ah,” you shake your head, “why me?”

He shrugs, “probably because of those silly posts you made. You clearly caught someone's attention. So get to work, you have a press conference to prepare for,” he dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

But you just stay firmly planted in your spot, “Sir, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Oh but it is.” His eyes shoot to you and narrow, “so you either attend that conference or I’ll fire you. We are making the most out of your blunder here, don’t mess this up. You only have one shot at this, and I expect the article from this to not only be outstanding, but also on my desk Monday morning. This is the break our website needs, but if you aren’t willing to pull your weight and fix your mistakes, then we don’t have a place here for you anymore. So it’s your choice, Miss Y/L/N.”

You sigh defeatedly, and nod, “okay, I’ll do it.”

“I figured you would,” he nods once then turns back to his computer screen. “Close the door behind you.”

You nod, spinning on your heels and exit the room. Shutting the door softly behind you like he’d asked and then heading back to your desk to start preparing for this press conference.

But all you can think about is how truly mortifying this whole week has already been. And it’s clearly only going to get worse from here on out. How do you get yourself into these things? Now someone from the Avengers team has specifically requested that you be there. Great.

Were they planning to embarrass you further? Were they going to make a mockery of you because of a stupid drunken mistake? Were you going to regret accepting this article instead of just quitting?

You glance down at the press pass in your hand and sigh, there is no way to know currently just how this will all play out. But sadly, you’ll be finding out the answers to your questions soon enough. And in a little less than 3 days, at that.

You stand in front of your full length mirror—wearing the seventeenth outfit you’ve tried on so far this morning—and trying desperately to find faults with it. In all honesty, all the outfits you’ve tried on had looked perfectly fine and would have worked. But you were determined to stall, to waste as much time on pointless outfit changes as you could, so that you didn’t have to face your reality.

That reality being that today was the day, today was the Avengers press conference at the new facility. And oh God, how you really did not want to have to do this today.

I mean, the moon wasn’t in the right placement. Nor was Jupiter currently aligned. And your horoscope had warned you about ‘life changing events should you venture out of your box.’ And you could only assume said life changing events weren’t going to be good ones, and this was very much venturing outside of your box. Plus like, you just had this strange gut feeling, something deep inside you telling you that something was going to happen today—And one should always trust their gut in true times of crisis.

So really, that was all to say that this was a horrible idea, and you should probably just stay home. Yeah, it’s settled then, you’ll stay home. That was a much smarter plan for sure.

Your hired car pulls up to the large, intimidating steel and glass structure and you instantly feel like you’re going to puke. And if the hired car didn’t charge you your first born for doing just that, you’d gladly probably have puked in this exact moment. It comes to a stop and you thank the driver before collecting up your belongings and climbing out.

Glancing around you notice a bunch of people hanging about, some with large camera’s around their necks, others with microphones. But all are wearing various passes, some look similar to yours, however none match it entirely. Your hand grabs on to the pass around your neck and pulls it away from your body to examine it more closely.

Yeah, yours is the only one like it, that you can currently see. Which yeah, that’s extremely odd, for sure. You release the pass, letting it fall back to your chest and head towards the check in booth, just wanting to get this all over with so you can promptly go home and die of humiliation in your bed. Alone and away from the world.

You give one of the ladies at the table your full name and instantly notice a wicked smirk appear upon her lips as she hears it. Which honestly can’t be a good sign for what’s to come. No, this is a sign you should probably just leave now. The universe is clearly trying to warn you, but your dumb, job needing ass can’t leave. No matter how much you desperately want to.

She hands you a map, pointing to the location where you will be standing for the conference. Then she points behind herself, in the direction you are to head and you mumble a quick thank you before heading the way she showed you.

As you make your way to the location, you continuously glance between the map in your hands and the area around you. The last thing you need right now is to get lost on this insanely large property, and end up missing the press release all together. Oh God, your boss would pitch a fit if that happened.

Your heels click on the cement ground, thankful you aren’t trudging it through grass at the moment. Heels and grass do not mix, and with your luck you’d probably end up twisting an ankle or snapping a heel. And the last thing you want right now is to draw unwanted attention to yourself. Ya know, more so than you already have.

You glance down at the outfit you’d finally begrudgingly decided on, choosing to stick to basic shades to help you blend in a little better. No fancy or colourful prints or shades today. No, blacks and whites was what you went with. Hoping that most of the other press members would be dressed similarly. And with one glance around you, that hope actually came true.

You’d decided to go with a black pleather pencil skirt, that was form fitting but also flattering to all your softer areas. With a long sleeve white shirt tucked into it, and simple black pumps. It was a pretty basic look, but that’s exactly what you were going for. You wanted to blend in, praying none of the Avengers or press would even noticed you, let alone figured out you were the drunken Twitter tweeter.

God, doesn’t that just sound so stupid? The ‘Twitter tweeter’. Just ridiculous. And to think, this is your life now! This is who you are now. Seriously, the next time you drink, you are going to leave your phone at work. As you clearly can’t be trusted with it when you’re intoxicated.

As you make your way closer to the spot the nice lady had shown you, you realize that you are the only one in this location. All the other press are further down, in front of the stage, whereas your place is off to the side. It has a perfect view of the stage, but there is nothing and no one to hide behind.

You halt your steps, and even though it’s a beautiful sunny day, you feel a cold sweat come on. Are they segregating you? Are they going to make an example out of you? Or treat you like some circus clown?

You know these thoughts are ridiculous, these are world heroes we’re talking about here. Good people who put their lives on the line everyday for everyone else. But maybe they are going to force you into speaking to the press, maybe they are going to use you for good PR. Your stupid tweets are the hot topic at the moment, everyone is wanting the inside scoop on you, your life and your possible new affiliation with the mighty team.

But being in the spotlight isn’t your thing, you like to be unknown, anonymous. Just another face in the crowd. And if this is an ambush, then take you the fuck off that sign up list. You are not interested in this being spun around on you. Fuck that.

You turn on your heel and head back to the main press area, you’d just hide out there amongst all the other reporters and journalists. At least you could hang in the back and keep your head down while you take notes.

You might be overthinking this. Or be acting a little too irrational at the moment. But cut yourself some slack, this week has been hellish and overwhelming, to say the least. And your poor frazzled mind is in overdrive mode, overthinking the smallest things and making you a bit of a basket case. Clearly you don’t handle stressors like this very well. That’s obviously a flaw of yours, but one you very much do not plan on addressing today. Or ever, maybe. But definitely not here and now.

You reach the main press area and tuck yourself into a back row chair, lowering your large black purse onto the ground and digging through it to grab your notebook, recorder, pens and your phone. You’d record the whole press release, taking notes and photos here and there. Then when it was all over you planned to hightail it out of here, long before anyone noticed you. Hopefully. That was the plan anyways.

You glance around, noticing a few nearby press members staring intently at you. God, you hope none of them cause a scene and point you out. You quickly glance up at the stage, seeing that it is still empty and none of the team is up there yet. So you drop your eyes down and decide to just doodle in your notebook till the junket begins.

Time seems to be ticking along at an alarmingly slow pace. Probably just because you are so desperate for this to all be over, therefore it’s doing the opposite now. The minutes currently feeling like hours to you.

Finally, after weeks of waiting—at least you swear it’s been that long. You hear commotion up on the stage, and notice as everyone around you is seated now, taking photos. You grab your phone and flick your eyes up to the stage, seeing the mighty group of heroes slowly ascending the stairs and fanning out on the platform.

You snap a few shots and then prepare your recorder, hitting the button to start it once Tony Stark makes his way to the microphone. You balance the recorder on your left leg, your notebook open on your light and pen at the ready. Your phone sitting in between both legs, fully charged, set to silent and camera app open.

The conference starts with Tony doing a speech, thanking everyone for being here and just general PR stuff. You are sort of paying attention, but also not. You know that you can always listen to the recording later if you miss any part of this conference, so there isn’t a huge weight on you to be fully listening currently.

So instead, you get lost in your own mind, continuing to berate and chide yourself for your horrible life choices. Ya know, all the ones that led up to this very moment. You keep your eyes down for most of the event, only glancing up periodically to snap a few more photos here and there. But then they flick back down to continue doodling in your notebook.

On the plus side, the grassy, flowery meadow you have been drawing this whole time is looking wonderful. Even if it’s only in all blue and black pen ink. But focusing on this is better than possibly locking eyes with the poor victim of your latest drunk tweets. You know he is up there, because they all are. And the last thing you want is to look at him currently. Your immense guilt and humiliation preventing you from even entertaining the idea of ogling the handsome man right now. Not even a little bit, no matter how badly you want to. No matter how much you want to see just how attractive he is in person. You can’t allow yourself to.

You don’t even really deserve to be here right now, the only reason you are, is because drunk you is a sappy asshole. Had you not posted those stupid tweets, you wouldn’t have been invited here today. God, how you wish you had a time machine right now.

You’d made a bunch of mistakes throughout your life, I mean, who hasn’t? But this one was by far the worst, you were definitely paying for this one. Tenfold. Maybe this is the wake up call drunk-you needs though. Hopefully she will have learned her lesson from all of this. Buuuuuut knowing her, probably not.

You sigh, picking up your phone to take a few more photos as the time nears to the official opening of the facility. To the rope cutting, which is the true reason you are all here today. You keep your eyes on your phones screen, but movement off to the side of the stage catches your eyes and they snap from the screen to it.

They lock with a greyish blue set, and you see the owner of said eyes glance over your face momentarily, before a smirk breaks out on his lips. Bucky Barnes aka The Winter Soldier aka Steve Roger’s lifelong best friend. You are currently having a stare off with an ex hydra assassin, and an insanely good one at that.

You are just about to break the eye contact when you notice him elbow the blonde super soldier to his right. Leaning in once he has the other man's attention and whispering something in his ear, before his head nods in your direction. Oh God, this also can’t be fucking good.

The blonde furrows his brows for a moment, his eyes scanning the crowd before they land on you. And the second your eyes meet, you are fucking trapped. Because, Jesus! This man is basically a human bear trap, and your ass just willing stepped right on to it.

Greeeeeat. Now you’re having a stare off with thee Steve Rogers. Just exceptional. Note the extreme sarcasm.

And then you notice as he frowns, most likely now realizing you are the crazy lady who tweeted about him. He snaps his eyes away from you, turning to glare at his best friend. Who only grins wider in return and then shrugs his shoulders before nodding his head to the billionaire at the podium. Mr. Roger’s heated gaze then flicks to the side of Mr. Stark’s head, narrowing a little more and honestly, if looks could kill, everyone here today would be witnesses to a murder. To the death of Iron Man, at the eyes of Captain America.

And oh fuck, this is not going well. So much for going unnoticed. You can’t do this, you can’t be here any longer. This is all just too much and you want to go home.

You quickly pack up your belongings, throwing them haphazardly into your large purse. As the tears of humiliation begin prickling in your eyes. What did you do to deserve any of this? Clearly you fucked up in a past life and now you were paying for it in this one.

Your eyes involuntarily glance back up to the stage, tears threatening to fall but you try to force them to hold off until you are away from this place. Away from all the prying eyes. The last thing you need is photos of you crying like a baby, at the Avengers new facility opening, to start circulating the internet and only adding fuel to the fire.

They’d probably play it up like you were this insanely huge fan, and just being here made your crazy come out to play. Bawling your eyes out for just being here, in the presence of the hero you so clearly had lady wood for. But yet, that wasn’t it at all. You know most of these people were probably too focused on Mr. Stark to even notice the moment between the super soldiers. You’re pretty sure you were the only one who actually did see it.

Your eyes lock once again on the intense pair of blue ones, finding yourself momentarily trapped all over again. Then his eyebrows furrowing snaps you out of it, thankfully, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek. You quickly wipe it away as you turn and hastily make for the press area exit.

You don’t look back, you can’t bare to see the relief probably on Mr. Rogers face now. He is probably thankful you are leaving early. He probably never wanted to actually see you in the flesh. He probably thinks you are just some ridiculous, crazed fan who went out of her way to either try to get noticed by him, or boost her career via the exposure.

God, how far from the truth that actually was. But not like you’d ever get the chance to prove that to anyone now. You vow in this exact moment to delete your twitter the second you get into the Uber. Like completely deactivate your whole account. Then you’d have no way to embarrass yourself ever again. At least not publicly, not in front of the entire world.

As you reach the spot where the hired car had dropped you off, you pull out your phone and open your Uber app. You had a hired car set up to pick you up later on, for when the press release was supposed to be over. But as it was still early and now only over for just you, you needed a ride and fast.

You begin filling out the order, hastily walking down the laneway towards the main road. Like hell were you going to stay standing on the facilities grounds any longer. Risking being seen or stopped by random press members. You’d just meet the car down the road a bit. That was the best plan here.

But as you are making your hasty get away, you hear fast footfalls coming up behind you. And you cringe slightly, too nervous to turn around and see who is coming towards you currently. You pray it’s just someone running to meet their car. Maybe one of the press people has an emergency and needs to leave early because of it?

“Hey, hold up,” a deep voice calls from behind you, effectively killing that last thought dead in its tracks. Much like you wish would happen to you right now. If you could just drop dead in this moment, you totally would. You didn’t have suicidal thoughts, ever, but in this exact moment, you’d take any out you could get. The sheer humiliation of this week finally crashing down on you.

You sigh, quickly wiping your cheeks of the few tears that refused to stay put in your eyes, and slowly turn around as the footsteps near you and come to a deafening halt. You know whoever it is, is now only a few feet away from you and there is no avoiding this awkward situation any longer.

You instantly realize the person now standing mere feet from you, is the very last person you want to be anywhere near right now. Even with keeping your eyes down, focused entirely on the ground so that whoever the person ended up being wouldn’t see the tears, now in your eyes. You still instantly know that it’s Steve Rogers, the newest and current victim of your drunken praise, and it now takes everything in you to not start rambling out a ridiculous apology, while also bawling your eyes out.

A heavy silence looms over you, starting to feel as if you are being crushed by it. You take a deep breath, keeping your eyes honed in on the cement ground. “I um, I’m really, really sorry,” you start, the words coming out raspy from your unused and tear tingled voice. The volume barely above a whisper so you quickly clear your throat, “I shouldn’t have come here today. I ah, I didn’t want to ever make you feel uncomfortable in any way. And I guess I just need to apologize to you for my ridiculous antics last week. And ah, and for stupidly agreeing to come to this junket. I’ll just um,” you glance over your shoulder momentarily. “I’ll just be going now,” you finally glanced up at him, as you gesture with your thumb over your shoulder and take a step back. “Sorry again, for um, for everything.”

But holy fuck, he is so much better looking than you could have ever imagined. Up close and personal he is a freaking dream boat—Argh! You have no right to ogle this man! Give your damn head a shake. You are the very last person on this planet who is allowed to fangirl over him right now.

You quickly turn and continue to hastily make your way towards the road, not even giving him a moment to respond to your words. You don’t need him to say anything back though, he doesn’t owe you a damn thing. You are the dick that brought this all on to not only in yourself, but this poor man as well.

You got the chance to apologize to him, which is more than you could have ever asked for. Now you just want this all to be over. You just want to go home and pretend like this entire week never happened. He can go back to his normal life, and you to yours.

God, you could really use a stiff drink right now, but that’s what got you into this whole mess in the first place. So that’s probably not the smartest idea at the moment. So instead you’ll settle for a giant tub of ice cream and a lengthy, tear filled, phone call with your bestie.

“Wait,” he says softly, probably so he doesn’t startle you any further, as you feel a large warm hand grasp your elbow, urging you to turn back around.

You clench your eyes shut, why can’t this just all be over already?! Why you?! You take a deep stuttering breath in then open your eyes and turn to face him again. He releases your elbow as you do and then you awkwardly lock eyes with him once again.

One of his large hands comes up to rub the back of his neck, the action almost looking sheepish. Clearly he also has a few words for you, and whatever they are you’ll totally deserve them. Even if they are chastising you for your stupid posts. So you quickly steel yourself for what’s about to come.

“I ah, I wasn’t—“ he pauses then quickly corrects himself, “I’m not uncomfortable about you being here,” he shakes his head, “not at all. I just—firstly, I just wanted to apologize to you, actually. I know they probably forced you to be here today, I don’t really know how, but judging by your reaction to all of this, I’m guessing you really had no say in being here.“ He sighs deeply, “I had no idea that they’d actually invited you, so I can only assume that Tony played a huge hand in all of this. He really likes to insert himself into other people's lives, so I apologize that you got dragged into this. He doesn’t really know when to butt out.”

You nod slowly as you glance down to the ground again, “it’s okay. You really don’t owe me anything, I honestly brought this all on myself. I um, I don’t blame anyone else for any of this, but thank you for saying all of that.” You look back up at him, “it really helps to hear. This week has just been—“ you cut yourself off with a deep sigh, as you wave a dismissive hand around, “sorry, that’s really not important. Um, just basically thank you, ya know, for easing my mind with all of this.”

He frowns a little, but quickly corrects it. And you still just honestly want this all to be done with. But he looks like he still has more to say, so looks like your hopes will go unanswered this time. And just as you suspected he speaks up again.

He shakes his head, “don’t mention it, but I should really be the one thanking you.”

Awe, isn’t that just so dang sweet of him—wait, what?! I’m sorry, come again?! Your eyes widen as your mouth falls open slightly. You imagine it’s a super attractive look—note the sarcasm again—but you honestly can’t bring yourself to care about that at the moment. Because what did he just say?

Your eyebrows furrow after far too long of a moment with you just gaping up at him. “I’m sorry if this is rude, but um, why exactly would you owe me a thank you?”

He smiles down at you, then quickly glances over his shoulder before looking back to you. “I’ll explain all that, but first, can I show you something?”

You find yourself nodding before you’ve even realized it. “Um, yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, great. Just uh, just follow me then,” he says through a hesitant smile as he leads you off and away from the gathering. You aren’t sure where exactly he is taking you, but for the first time all week, you aren’t worried at all. Probably because this is Steve Rogers, the man out of time, and a true gentleman, in every sense of the word.

And maybe, just maybe, your hellish week that all began thanks to one stupid drunk moment, might just end on a way better note. Maybe your Drunk Twitter escapades weren’t all bad. Maybe they weren’t entirely horrible.

But honestly who really knows, you’d just have to wait and find out.

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

Part 2 of this, from Steve POV, will be coming sometime this week! So stay tuned for that!

@caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tfandtws @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @badassbeckettswan @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @capsicledoll @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @saturngirlz @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @ivannagotthebeat @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @ivoryhazlewood @steverogersxreader @cjhorseback @jasminecalia @secondstar2disney @jessiedaeum @betsynodak @capricornprince118

[matth1w]

I saw that requests are open here, I hope that they still are. Can I request Tony Stark x Villain reader (around endgame) when she is literally a glitch (teleporting, being unstable, and having the ability to "hack reality", ya know normal glitch stuff) and can change the timeline die to who she is but it will cause her to get deleted. I know it's confusing and I'm sorry if it's too much to understand.

Glitch

Pairing: Tony Stark / Iron Man x Villain!Reader

Summary: You join forces with the enemy to fix the mess Thanos created.

Warnings: Angst

Rating: All

Word Count: 1,797 words

Note: I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting!

Tag: @emilaa2001

You stood defiantly in front of the group. Maybe teleporting into the remaining Avengers’ new headquarters wasn’t the smartest idea but you doubted they’d open up willingly if you rang the doorbell.

“Just… hear me out.”

At Steve’s ‘look of disapproval’ you sighed.

“Look. We all know if I wanted to kill any of you, I could have done it already.” Eyebrows raised around the room.

“And without all this ruckus.” You added, waving your hand around at the armed heroes before you.

Nat spoke up next, “And why should we even give you the chance? Aren’t you one of the bad guys, Y/N?”

You couldn’t help but scoff at that knowing she was using your words against you. It felt especially ironic coming from her.

“If that’s the narrative they spin, then I’ll take it. At least they’re listening.”

Movement behind the group caught your eye. You watched as the others turned to Tony,

‘Stupid’, you thought. ‘They really need to learn to not turn their backs on their enemies.’

Satisfied to see Tony but admittedly distraught at his sullen appearance you stood firmly in your place. You didn’t want your body acting on its own.

His voice was as weak as his body,

“Why are you here, Y/N?”

You smiled at Tony, genuinely happy to see he was alive. Even in the state he was in.

“Would you believe me if I said I was here for you?”, you said, on the edge of flirting.

Thor looked at you with annoyance and Rhodey barked out a bitter laugh.

He spoke up before Tony could reply.

“No really. Why are you here?”

You held your hands up, conceding. It wasn’t a lie, per say. But it wasn’t exactly the truth either.

“I want to help fix this.”

At the stares of the group, you elaborated, waving your arms around as you spoke.

“This. This whole mess Thanos created.”

Now you were on a rant and couldn’t stop. Or rather, didn’t want to. Maybe they’d see your way.

“Destroying half of sentient beings? Okay. Makes sense. We’ve done a pretty shit job. But getting rid of half of all life? Plants and animals too? It’s ridiculous. If he was so hellbent on making a better balance why didn’t he increase the resources or hell, make them unlimited?”

Everyone exchanged looks. You were right and they knew it. They were ready to agree with you when you ruined that.

“Plus, worst takeover of the universe ever. He just snaps and bam disappears. I mean if I had the stones I would…”

At Tony’s pointed look, you cleared your throat.

“The point is,” you let out. “I want to make things right. Or at least to how they were.”

— — —

The team stayed in the living room to discuss after you agreed to leave. And not come back unless they asked you to.

No one spoke. They were all trying to decide if they wanted your help. And why you offered in the first place.

“So she’s like your Loki?” Nat asked dryly, breaking the silence.

Tony turned to look at her with a puzzled face,

“What?”

She leaned forward and uncrossed her arms. “I mean, she’s the person who always betrays you but you keeping giving her chances in the hope she’ll change.”

Thor looked down at that, he knew it was true. But he also knew Loki had proven himself in the end.

Tony looked offended at the notion but Rhodey nodded after thinking for a moment.

“You’re right”

Tony turned to his friend and gave him a look of disbelief.

“Ton, you keep hoping Y/N will be the person you knew. But she’s not going to be. Who knows if she’s even telling the truth now? Her speech wasn’t exactly reassuring.”

Tony couldn’t disagree with that. You were never great with words though. Even before…

— — —

You knew Tony from a long time ago. It felt like a different lifetime. You were a model Stark scientist. One of the best. But when Tony had his “epiphany” you couldn’t continue with the company. Or him.

It seemed so stupid to stop when you had been at the cusp of a breakthrough. You were leading a team designing the next generation of missile-loaded drones. It would change the way wars were fought, decrease causality loss, and allow your name to go down in history.

But Tony has other ideas. Said he didn’t want to continue making weapons of war. Yet he made his suits, countless bots, and Ultron.

— — —

During the five years after the failed attempt to get the stones back from Thanos, you and Tony had grown somewhat close. Not like before, but at least better than it had been. Plus, he had tried to help you with your… problem.

“I feel like it’s my fault”, he admitted one night you two had been staying late at the Thai restaurant you two frequented.

“What is?”, you asked, picking up a spring roll.

Tony looked at you pointedly. Seeing the twinge of sadness behind the annoyance, you put the roll down.

‘Ugh. Feelings’, you thought

You wiped your fingers on a napkin and leaned forward. You were only going to say this once and you didn’t want anyone else to hear. Even though there was no one else in the place except the older chef and his son working the tables.

“Look,” you started. “It wasn’t your fault. Sure you made the stupid decision to stop production. And research. But… it’s my fault I ended up like this.”

At Tony’s surprise that he was trying, but failing to hide, you grimaced but it ended more like a smile.

“I got sloppy. Procedures and precautions didn’t matter. All that mattered was success. So I could change your mind.”

He read between the lines. Knowing you meant more than just getting Stark Industries up and running like it had been.

He held your eyes for a moment before nodding and looking away.

“Sorry it didn’t.” He muttered.

— — —

The swarms of creatures surrounded you. You were teleporting more than you had ever done and suddenly — it hit you.

Killing Thanos had failed. Time travel had failed. And none of you had been able to get the gauntlet from the past Thanos.

Recalling what Tony told you Strange had said about the one outcome. You realized it was you. You were the one chance they had at it.

The stones wouldn’t work. Bruce trying proved that. Nat has already died. You were fighting a losing battle with less than half the team.

Having accepted your fate, you spoke into the coms.

“Tony?”, you croaked. Your tears were already bubbling up.

Tony immediately flew down to you and his helmet faded away.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

He looked down to see your glitching hands and grabbed them with his.

“Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

You looked up at him, tears now falling. You nodded.

“Yeah. I know how to beat him. I know…”

“The stones? Yeah I know. We’re trying.”

You shook your head. Squeezing his hands.

“No, it’s me. I have to go deep. Erase him from this timeline. And all timelines.”

Still not understanding but guessing what you were doing, Tony met your eyes, and softly pleaded.

“No, Y/N. It’s too risky. You could be gone too. You can’t… I can’t.”

You took your hands from his and grasped his cheeks, pulling him towards you. Pressing your lips together with every ounce of emotion, you let yourself truly feel what you had always felt. Love.

As you pulled away, you looked into his eyes one last time. Happy you were able to see his love at least once.

You closed your eyes for a moment and pressed your forehead against his. Taking one last breath, you stepped back and smiled at him.

His tearful smile was the last thing you saw before you closed your eyes once more.

You teleported in front of Thanos and thrust your hand inside his chest. Grabbing his heart with your bare hand, you bared your teeth and smiled wickedly at him. All your hatred, all your anger, all the fear and loss and pain that you felt. You dug it all up and brought it forward as you twisted your wrist and enjoyed the suffering of the gasping man before you.

“You. Are. Nothing.”

His wide eyes met yours before you pulled him out of existence alongside you.

— — —

*Bonus mid credit scene*

Tony sat back in his chair and recounted the story once more to the man sitting across from him.

“She pulled him towards her and then they disappeared. Next thing we knew his minions were glitching left and right and then the portals were opening up behind us.”

“And she was gone?,” Ross confirmed.

Tony nodded, “Yeah.”

“And you can’t find her?”

Tony understood why Ross was pressing. You hadn’t been exactly best friends with the CIA. But now, having to confirm he couldn’t find you, it felt like a knife twisting his heart in two.

“No.” He muttered. “I couldn’t find her.”

Ross nodded, trying to be sympathetic.

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

— — —

*Bonus end credit scene*

Tony smiled with mixed emotions as he read the morning paper.

Y/N recognized as hero for defeating Thanos

Although many knew Y/N as Glitch - a villain who famously teleported into the White House, Pentagon, and UK House of Parliament all in one day - the UN, alongside American government agencies recognized Y/N as a hero for her ultimate sacrifice to defeat the titan Thanos.

In a media conference led by Agent Everett Ross of the CIA, Wakandan King T’Challa, and Tony Stark (aka Iron Man), the trio unveiled a dedicated research building named after Y/N.

Everett Ross of the CIA spoke to Y/N’s during the Final Battle against Thanos and said her efforts saved the world and brought back the billions who had been taken during the Snap.

King T’Challa praised Y/N saying, “Without her, our world would have likely been destroyed again. I would not be standing here today if not for the sacrifice of Y/N.”

Stark spoke proudly of Y/N’s work with Stark Industries and showed remorse for her firing which many say led to her failed experiment that caused her to have the ability to teleport and hack reality and eventually become Glitch. 

Stark detailed Y/N’s efforts alongside the Avengers, including the late Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow) in undoing the snap Thanos caused in 2018. He revealed the two had a romantic relationship stating, “I will always love Y/N. She was the smartest woman I knew and I will never forget her sacrifice.”