#i know i almost never really talk about miraculous here so it might come as a surprise

[aaronwarner]

little anti miraculous rant here, sorry

So, we all know by now (S5) that Adrien is a sentimonster. That’s no secret. And the fans that were so intent on theorizing this for years must be so happy to say “told you so”, but... can we talk about how much bullshit all of this is?? Because it IS bullshit. With the logic presented throughout the latest seasons about the sentimonsters, it retcons the adrien/felix sentimonster fact and just makes for a shitty reveal that doesn’t make sense. And people defending this, calling it a “good plot twist” just-- *starts laughing hard and loud*

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

Mickey’s on house arrest for an eensy teensy crime (a total misunderstanding obviously - Mickey would never.)

At first he thinks he’s gonna go level ten batshit cooped up in their apartment. It’s not that he doesn’t like the home they’ve made for themselves, it’s just he’s a man who needs enrichment in his enclosure and everyone knows it.

Ian finds himself “breaking” things on the downlow so he can subtly float a “hey could you look at the ___ today? I think it’s busted” over their morning coffee. He's not coddling him, he just likes knowing Mickey will have something to do while he’s at work besides pace the halls and make trouble for himself out of sheer boredom.

The first week is rough. But by the next week, things have evened out considerably for Mickey. He’s clearly found a passion in something, because Ian will come home and Mickey’ll be outside on the balcony, more or less where he left him that morning. And he’s pretty sure it’s not the tomatoes he’s got potted out there.

Ian doesn’t wanna pry, especially since Mickey’s found something that works for him. But he’s a curious being. So when he comes home the next day, he decides to follow after the sound of his beautiful house-arrest husband on the balcony.

“Ha… Dumbass…”

“Who is?”

Mickey quickly turns to him as Ian steps out, joining him at the rail for a welcome home kiss.

Or…rather, Ian is kissing and Mickey is grumbling against it. “No one…”

“Mm?”

“Home early.”

“Yeah,” Ian smiles, glancing curiously at the green-space that the balcony overlooks, “got done pretty quick today.” There’s no one there. Just a couple squirrels darting around by the bushes.

Mickey nods, taking a long drag from his cigarette. 

He’s clamming up. 

Ian definitely struck something.

Silence floats between them, Ian taking the cig for himself. And he almost lets it go until it happens - movement, Mickey’s eyes darting to it down below.

Ian follows it. Hears himself huff a laugh as he watches a squirrel tear at lightning speed to the bush across the way. “Fast little fucker.”

“Gonzales…”

“Huh?” Ian turns to him. 

But Mickey refuses to meet his gaze. “Speedy Gonzales,” he says. Very cryptically.

And Ian…doesn’t know what to do with that. He chuckles, teasing, “What, you out here namin’ the squirrels, Mick?”

Another handful of seconds float by them in complete silence. Avoided eye contact.

…oh.

Wait.

Holy fuck, he’s out here naming the squirrels.

“You got somethin’ to say, wise guy-”

“No!” Wow - no - Ian doesn’t-… It’s just how the hell is he supposed to process something this endearing in such a short time span? “No, baby - nothin’ wrong with it.” Oh no, his house-arrest husband is cute?? “I mean, Speedy Gonzales - you really nailed it, ya know?”

Beside him, Mickey’s shoulders are starting to deflate from where they’ve ratcheted up in defense mode. Not all the way, but starting at least. Ian thinks they should probably leave it at that for now, but then miraculously, he’s talking again. “Got no fuckin attention span… Been lookin’ for the same shit he buried since Monday.”

Ian takes it in with a carefully constructed expression, “Oh yeah?” no smile to misconstrue or anything. “Where’s it at?”

Because Mickey knows, doesn’t he?

“Big tree,” he nods to it, “right side.”

Holy fuck, Ian is so in love with this man.

“Almost got it before you came out.”

“You think I scared him off?”

“Nah, he’s a real dumbass. Probably woulda dug two times and then ran off somewhere else.” And then, like he didn’t just make Ian’s heart absolutely rock hard, he turns to the door. “Fuckin’ starvin’ - you bring anything home?”

They have sandwiches and potato chips and Ian practically has to eat his hands to stop himself from asking more questions about his husband’s squirrels.

On Saturday morning, Ian joins him outside to water his tomatoes and then lingers, eager for any tidbits Mickey might drop on his own. 

In the grass below, a squirrel clambers over a pile of dirt and then begins a session of quick digging, bringing a smile of recognition to Ian’s face. “Hi Speedy.”

“That’s Rat Tail,” Mickey corrects from his chair.

Oh. Right. “How can you tell?” Ian asks stupidly. Because all it takes is one look with his own eyeballs to note the thinning end of this particular squirrel’s tail. “Ah.” Rat Tail. Got it.

And so begins the introductions, the two of them sipping coffee as Mickey leisurely explains the lore to him. Ian didn’t realize squirrels lead such a rich, fulfilling life, honestly. Who could’ve known? 

Mickey, of course, his feet propped up on the railing and his ankle monitor blinking away while he points out new characters seemingly every morning.

“That’s Scratch.” and “That’s Little Bitch.” and “Damn, I thoughtchya kicked the bucket, Rabies.”

Each name takes its place on Ian’s mental list.

“That one’s Allen,” Mickey says once.

To which Ian simply has to ask, the fact that he shares a name with their neighbor surely no coincidence. “What? Why?”

“He’s short ‘n ugly.”

“Got it.”

By the start of the next week, Ian feels caught up on the ins and outs of the squirrel lore. But just like with his husband, there’s always something to learn.

“Hey Mick, is that one new?”

Mickey flicks his eyes up from his phone, identifying the squirrel on the fly. “Nah, just hasn’t shown up for you yet.” Ah. “That’s Little Fucker.”

Ian nods. Interesting. “Are Little Fucker and Little Bitch related?”

“I dunno. Think they’re bangin’ each other, though.”

“Of course.”

Ian sees himself and Mickey in Little Bitch and Little Fucker.

Week Four hits, and Mickey is starting to wonder why he ever dreaded house arrest so much. It’s really not all that bad, especially when he’s got a caring husband who gives a shit about his-

“MICKEY!” comes Ian’s voice, fucking tearing through the apartment and launching Mickey into a startled fumble and ‘the fuck’ with his wet towel. “MICK GET THE HELL OUT HERE - QUICK!”

He’s dripping wet and ten seconds away from making a b-line to the gun drawer, but when he sees his husband’s face practically pressed up against the screen door, his look of sheer excitement is contagious.

“The fuck?” Mickey snaps, keeping the towel around his waist, “The hell are you out here-”

“It’s Speedy, Mick!” Ian beams, opening the door for him and pointing dramatically toward the green-space. “He’s getting it! He’s gonna get it, finally!”

Mickey shuffles over to the rail, the history that’s being made making his blood run hot when he sees it with his own two eyes, Speedy Gonzales digging frantically at the exact spot that he’s been too much of a dumbass to check for a whole month.

He and Ian grow deathly still. Wait with bated breath. 

And then…finally…after weeks of anticipation…

“Oh my god,” Ian grins, both of them watching Speedy Gonzales stuff the acorn into his mouth and then dart for cover under the bushes.

“Well whaddaya know - stupid fucker actually did it.” About damn time.

Beside him, Ian wrangles Mickey wetly into his side, processing the moment proudly. Silence may float between them, but it’s positively electric. Fiery. And when Ian glances down with him, Mickey knows the exact look in his eyes.

“You bricked up right now?”

Ian nods, swallowing thickly.

Speedy Gonzales is left to eat in peace as the two of them push their way inside, eager to celebrate the rush Little Bitch and Little Fucker-style.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Character Driven vs. Plot Driven

I had someone message me asking what these terms meant and which Miraculous was and if it explained the writing, especially in context of the ending of season five and that's not something I can answer in a quick reply, so you all get a post instead!

Intro

At first glance, “character driven” and “plot driven” are somewhat confusing terms because almost every story has characters making choices that make things happen and almost every story has some kind of plot that's driving the action, so what do these terms even mean? Why do we use them?

The answer is that we generally don’t? These are high-level categorizations that I’ve almost exclusively seen talked about in things like writing classes where the instructor is trying to help you figure out your style preferences or perhaps painting a genre in broad strokes. I rarely see these terms come up when discussing specific works because they’re not that useful in the mirco. They never excuse or explain writing choices the way something like genre might because genre is a meaningful category and these really aren't. They're too vauge.

Also, as with many such binary categorizations, there’s a spectrum here. On one side is pure plot-driven and on the other is pure character-driven and in between them are most of the stories you'll consume in your life. In spite of that minor issue, I am going to start by defining what these two terms mean at their most extremes because that is relevant to the discussion. We’ll then use Miraculous to get into the nuance of the spectrum.

Character Driven

Character-driven narratives are stories that focus heavily on characters doing – or not doing – things because of their unique personalities, thoughts, and feelings. Stories where the events unfold almost entirely because of who the characters are and what very personal choices they make. Switch the characters and the story would look wildly different or even not exist at all.

When I think of pure character-driven works, I generally think of coming-of-age stories where there’s almost no plot to speak of. It’s just a teenage character struggling with life and learning to accept it. Character studies are another good example.

Plot Driven

Plot-driven narratives are stories that you're engaging with for something other than the characters. The characters are just set pieces that are there to be used by the plot. This means that the characters are probably making choice, but we’re not going to focus on the deep, nuanced reasons for those choices. Change the characters and the choices remain the same because the story is focused on something beyond the characters.

When I think of pure plot-driven stories, I think of stereotypical action movies. Movies where the villain is throwing things at the hero and the hero is overcoming them as fast as they can and so much is happening that you barely even know who these characters are because you're not here for the characters. You're here for the action, so it's fine if the characters are pretty generic. Mystery stories also tend to fit this category as those are often just about the mystery and the characters that aren’t developed beyond what is needed for the puzzle to work.

Nuance

So which is Miraculous?

If we must pick a side, then it’s going to be plot driven because that is Miraculous’ main writing style. It’s not here to study the characters and let them drive the action. It’s here to entertain kids in 20-minute-long chunks where the kids don’t need to know the greater context of who the characters are in order to get what is going on. Pick a random episode and it’s probably going to be one where a random akuma shows up and where everything that happens will never come up again. That is not what character-driven narratives look live. This is not a show brimming with things like Chat Blanc and the season five final. Those are exceptions to the rule.

However, the existence of those episodes and the fact that some of the characters aren't interchangeable shows that this isn’t a purely plot-driven show. The writers do want the characters to effect the world in unique ways decided by their personalities and motivations and relationships. Those are character-driven elements and is why these categories are kind of meaningless in this context. Plot driven vs character driven doesn’t justify or explain Miraculous’ writing choices because many of the writing choices make no sense in either type of story!

Narratives that are mainly plot-driven are not narratives plagued by poor characterization. They’re just ones where the characterization elements aren’t the main focus. You still want your characters to feel authentic and make sense and you can even have moments where the action is effected by who the characters are because plot-driven isn’t some hard rule. As I said at the start, it’s just a general categorization! Genre and format are infinitely more limiting and worthy of discussion because they actually come with some pretty clear rules.

Dunking on Miraculous

The problem with Miraculous is not that the plot is the main driving force of the action. The problem is that characters often make no sense! They act widely out of character for the sake of dragging out the plot, which is the plot driving the narrative, but that doesn’t make it good writing! “Because plot” is not an excuse, it’s just an explanation. In fact, because the show so often ignores the characters’ personalities for the sake dragging out the plot, it actually undermines the entire story because it feels cheap when the story tries to use the characters’ personalities to justify further delays Oh, now you’re letting this matter? Really? How nice. F-off.

Here are some examples of what I mean about the plot-driven nature of the show making inauthentic characters:

Alya is obsessed with finding out everything she can about the miraculous and even becomes a full-time team member in season four with the explicit job of tracking down the butterfly and the peacock, but she never does anything meaningful in that role. We never see her trying to track down the villains even though her character would absolutely do that. Her lack of action is wildly inauthentic.

Gabriel and Nathalie learn all of the temp heroes identities at the end of season three and make two minor efforts to do something with that information that before letting their god-tier knowledge fizzle to nothing even though those same temp heroes never stop being used. This is out of character for both of them, especially Nathalie. In a story that was true to its characters, this would have meaningful consequences such as all the temp heroes having to be benched and/or the villains guessing that Ladybug is someone who knows these people since they have some obvious connections.

The secret identities are the only reason Ladybug lost all of the miraculous at the end of season four and Adrien knows this. The season also ends with Ladybug promising to trust him more and the next season opens on an episode where she does just that. In spite of this, Adrien never even tries to tell her about the secret identity thing and Ladybug never seems to become more open with her partner because, if the show did those things, then an identity reveal would happen and they can't let that happen so, once again, plot trumps characterization.

When a show is plagued by asinine choices such as these while also trying to claim it has these overarching plots and meaningful character beats, the story can come to feel disingenuous and frustrating to a lot of fans. That’s why we can get something as divisive as the season five ending. Because of the poor writing that lead up to that final, it’s hitting different people in different ways depending on how tolerant they are of a lot of the shows previous flaws.

Would it be hard for Marinette to tell Adrien the truth? Sure! That struggle is - in theory - a genuinely good character beat, but it falls flat for many because it comes after multiple seasons of forced, inauthentic delaying tactics that spat in the face of established characterization for basically every meaningful character. With those in mind, it’s hard to view the secret keeping as some authentic, meaningful choice for Marinette’s character when she and many others have been denied so many other authentic, meaningful choices.

This is extra true because her choice to keep both Adrien and Chat Noir in the dark just compounds the issue of the authentic growth that Marinette has been denied! I briefly touched on this in that last example in my list, but we just spent an entire season watching her and Chat Noir maintain their distance in spite of that being something that should have changed based on the character-based events of the last season. Remember, season four gave us this moment in Penalteam:

Ladybug: (looks around them and frowns) I'm sorry, I've been a bad captain. I played a solo game, I forgot we're a team. I'm gonna need all of you now, more than ever. Rooster Bold: Are you sure? I'm not really.. Ladybug: You're an excellent player, Rooster Bold. That's why I chose you. That's why I chose all of you! Let's play together, and bring all of our individual strengths together onto the field!

And this moment in the final, which is the two-part episode directly after Penalteam:

Ladybug: Why don't you just give up on me? I've lost ALL the Miraculous! I'm the worst Guardian EVER! I wanted to control everything, I didn't listen to you, I lied to you, I kept you at a distance! Every time you offered me a helping hand, I never took it! I really made a mess of EVERYTHING! (continues sobbing)

We are, as always, going to ignore that these things don't really match the story that season four told and instead take them at face value since this is the stated lesson. The viewers are being directly told that Ladybug went into season five having learned to trust others and stop keeping Chat Noir at a distance.

But did she? What actually changed in season five? I can't think of anything. Season five maintained all of the secrets and ended by adding new ones. We also had to suffer through Marinette doing absolutely nothing to try to find the missing kwamis even though that is wildly inauthentic to her character. Once that girl has a problem to solve, she obsesses over it! It's one of the few things that consistently gets her acting normal around Adrien, so why did her brain shut off and go full-Adrien for all of season five?

Add in the fact that a major plot of season five was outing Lila's lies and lies being bad and Marinette keeping this secret falls incredibly flat both plot-wise and character-wise. There's a reason that one of the main justification people use for the lie is a scarf from season one that we have literally never seen again and that Marinette never actually lied about. The show simply did not set itself up to make Marinette's lie feel like some authentic character beat. The best justification most people can give is that a 14-year-old would probably struggle to reveal this secret.

To be fair, that is a believable justification. That's believability is why the season five ending could have genuinely worked in a better show where the characters felt more authentic or even if it came much earlier in the story. If this was the season two ending, then I think that most people would be engaged by it and I’d probably even be defending Marinette’s actions because this is a massive thing to put on someone’s shoulders and she was early in her journey. Heck, I have defended her actions by pointing out that she was the last-informed of the group of people in the know and none of them are telling Adrien, so this is not all on her.

But that's the best I can do while being authentic to the story because this lie isn’t part of a story with authentic characters. Marinette has not been set up to lie like this and the lie is being told at the end of a season full of poor storytelling after multiple seasons of stalling tactics, making it impossible to take this lie seriously. Even if Miraculous was a primarily character-driven show, you can’t use that to justify the lie while ignoring all the poor characterization that surrounds it. The writers gave Marinette the kind of journey that should lead to her being brave enough to tell the truth, not the kind of journey where she was too much of a coward to tell the truth. The writing also never set up Nathalie or Kagami as the kind of people who would just bow to Marinette's wishes. It is glaringly obvious that this is all happening as a delaying tactic and not because it's a good choice for the characters or the plot.

[justmemethings]

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒

Random general RP prompts, without cursing, requested by anon. Feel free to edit pronouns / etc. to make them more fitting !

“Oh my god, what is that !?”

“You should have seen them. I could hardly breathe with their ego taking up all the space in the room.”

“Hey, hey, stop. I literally have no idea of what you're talking about. How about you start from the beginning? Or at least put a subject in your sentences.”

“C'mon, who never had a ‘spaghetti coming out of the nose’ moment?”

“You insufferable...piece of...rotten lemon pie!”

“Do as I say and not as I do. For real, though. You don't want to do what I do. I don't want to do what I do.”

“I thought I’d never set foot in a place like this, but here we are. Congratulations on making my life a little more miserable.”

“Sometimes I wonder why I even bother. I might as well be talking to myself. I surely listen more to myself than you do.”

“Keep up the cocky act, it’ll only make you lose faster.”

“From where I’m standing, you’re the one who should be worrying.”

“Give me some credit. I know that I’m not a good person, but I like thinking that I can be a decent friend.”

“The only thing I trust humans with is dying when you shoot them.”

“How can you be vulnerable with someone who has shut you out over and over?”

“Yeah, not buying it. What is it that you truly want?”

“You know, now I have to challenge you at a drinking game.”

“Absolutely not. Don’t even think about it.”

“...Maybe I just need a real break.”

“I’d say that it’s nice to meet you, but maybe the circumstances could have been more…ideal.”

“You can’t be serious! Don’t you see what’s at stake here?!”

“Oh Lord, you gotta be kidding me. This will take forever.”

“Have you tried telling them that? It’s easy to forget that not everyone grieves in the same way.”

“Look at you, showing some actual good taste. I’m almost impressed.”

“Let’s skip over you judging me and talk business. Will you or won’t you?”

“Don’t get funny ideas. I’m just choosing the lesser evil.”

“Oh yeah? So, what? Are you saying that my problems will miraculously fix themselves, if I talk about them?”

“Let’s bet on it. The winner gets to make the loser do one thing. Whatever they want, no limits.”

“You must be really bored if this is how you chose to spend your night.”

“Patience, [name]. I thought you liked surprises.”

“I really wouldn't do that, if I were you.”

“Anything you’d like to say to plead your case?”

[actual-changeling]

He asks him exactly once.

Some months after the world almost ended, Crowley still smells smoke and tastes fire whenever he first enters the bookshop, and so every single time he stays into the evening, he gets drunk. It's not the ideal way of dealing with it, but it works, and, really, it's not going to last forever.

(Right?)

Either way, it's past midnight and he's absolutely shitfaced. Aziraphale pulled out the good whiskey around eleven, and while he is still nursing his second glass, Crowley has lost count of how many times he has topped off his. Looking back, it is hard to tell why that evening, why that question at that time - not that it matters much.

The room is spinning, he is less than artfully sprawled across the sofa and only held in place by a stern look Aziraphale had leveled at the cushions at some point; they wouldn't dare to let him slide off.

"Stars, angel," he says, responding to... something, surely.

"The whole bloody sky 's full of 'em, but you only see such a tiny teeny sparkling sparkle."

Pushing himself a bit more upright so he can face Aziraphale in his armchair, the liquid sloshing dangerously, Crowley impatiently waits for a response, flopping onto his back when he doesn't receive one within seconds.

"Y'know, 's all so pointless, innit?"

Even with his gaze tracing colourful swirling lines on the ceiling, he knows exactly what kind of frown falls onto Aziraphale's face, half worried and half thoughtful. Distantly, emptying his glass and miraculously not choking, he wonders what his concerned little pout would taste like.

"Maybe we're simply not supposed to know the point, my dear, the-"

"The Almighty 's not here, angel, She doesn't care 'bout my stars."

His interruption ends on a sigh, a puffy exhale laced with the first sparks of millennia old angry frustration, and his mind is jumping between centuries and memories alike, leaving him uncomfortably dizzy.

"D'you think," Crowley begins, his voice oddly steady, "She's still- does She care 'bout me?"

If he were fractionally less drunk, he would have sobered up before the words slipped past his lips, but he isn't, and he doesn't. Regret comes all the same, immediately and forcefully enough to punch the air out of his lungs. Home, he needs to go home, needs to take the question back, needs to run before the pity undoubtedly radiating from Aziraphale hits him. His limbs are dipped in honey, unresponsive to his commands, and he screws his eyes shut just long enough to get rid of the worst of the vertigo.

He does not know the answer nor which answer he wants to hear, and yet he has whispered the question to the stars countless times, receiving nothing but cold silence.

(I still love you, he wants to tell her, sometimes, hoping that maybe-

You made me and I still talk to you and you're my Mother, you're the heat burning in my the stars, you're watching us, me and him, and you have yet to punish us him)

With considerable effort, he pulls himself upright with one hand gripping the backrest, dropping his empty glass onto the floor and swinging his legs down next to it. His vision is a blurry haze, his mind too heavy to fully comprehend the panic raging behind it, and a familiar rush of blood in his ears is drowning out Aziraphale muttering in concern.

"Sorry, 'm leaving. See you t'morrow, angel."

"Crowley-"

Making it to the Bentley with nothing but a twisted miracle, he shakes off Aziraphale's fluttering hands, and falls into the driver's seat; she knows where to go, whether he's actually driving her or not. Loneliness seeps into his bones while the engine cools, and he forbids himself from thinking about the response Aziraphale might have given him if he had stayed.

The stars above London are distant and quiet like they always are, and not for the first time, Crowley accepts the silence as the answer it is.

(He asks the sky again three weeks later, he never did know when to stop with the questions.)

(Deep down, he thinks knows hopes if he just keeps asking, eventually She will answer; he hates Her almost as much as he misses Her.)

(Almost)

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Transmission and Deflagration (The Kwamis' Choice)

Well, it only took until almost halfway through the fifth season, but we're finally getting a two-part episode that isn't a season finale. There have been a few episodes I think could have benefited from having an extra part, like “Cat Blanc”. So obviously, after all this time, there has to be a reason for putting a two-parter here. The story told here has to be big. It has to be huge. It has to be something that will alter the very way we see the plot and these characters, and—it's more Love Square stuff. God dammit...

Let's get into the tenth and eleventh episodes of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Transmission and Deflagration

“Transmission” starts with Marinette having another depressive episode, which seems to be worse than usual, with her offering her Miraculous to Tikki so she can choose someone else. While Tikki tries to remind her of all the good she's done as Ladybug as footage from earlier episodes plays, Marinette points out how she's a terrible Ladybug, once again referencing how she lost the Miraculous because of her feelings for Adrien.

Tikki: You’re overreacting, Marinette!

Marinette: Really? Then, how come I lost the Miraculous I was entrusted with all because of love? Love only ever causes problems. I’ll never fall in love again! Love is weak! And I can’t be sad about it; otherwise, I might get akumatized!

Okay, this is just getting ridiculous. We're ten episodes into the season, and whenever Marinette brings up her failure at the end of the last season, it's the same song and dance: She feels guilty about it, she needs someone to try and make her feel better, and she doesn't change anything about the way she and Cat Noir operate. If it isn't that, it's a complete strawman or character who we know already hates Ladybug like Chloe or Lila calling out Marinette for her failure specifically so any negative feedback she gets can be easily brushed aside. The whole point of a hero having to comprehend a major failure is to see how they deal with the consequences to their actions and find a way to improve to make sure nothing like that ever happens again. If Marinette came up with new ways to strategize with Cat Noir, or seriously reevaluate the way she sees Adrien that isn't just brushed aside, I'd get it. Instead, all she does is whine about how much her life sucks over and over, which is the same problem I've had with Adrien for the past few seasons.

And once again, for a show with the lyrics “The power of love always so strong” in its opening, it seems like the writers want to make a bigger point in favor of showing how love can only ruin things. Yes, getting emotional can cause someone to make more impulsive decisions, but at the same time, feelings of love and kindness can get good results, like Ellen Ripley's maternal instincts motivating her to save Newt in Aliens. The problem is that we never get a lot of arguments as to how love can benefit the heroes, not only when we see how much it screws up Ladybug and Cat Noir's partnership, but once again, how Marinette's romantic feelings for someone led to her greatest failure. The closest we get to an argument in favor of love is whenever Marinette and Adrien's friends try to make their OTP come together without considering if it would actually make things better or not.

Speaking of which, after the episode's obligatory pointless Chloe line that's only there so Selah Victor can pay her rent that week, Ms. Bustier asks Alya to deliver Marinette's homework to her, only for Nino to convince her to have Adrien do it instead. Somehow, she thinks this minor favor will help Marinette and Adrien realize their true feelings for each other. Because it's not like Alya learned that she shouldn't choose who she thinks Marinette would be best with last episode, right?

Marinette and Adrien talk and it seems like they're starting to grow a little closer, but Tikki and Plagg panic, trying to intervene so they don't know each other's identities. The attempt fails, but Marinette kicks Adrien out anyway. It's a pretty somber scene, so let's cut to something stupid instead, like Marinette and Adrien's classmates throwing a party under the assumption that Adrien simply delivering something to Marinette means they'll get together now.

All of you are really gunning for the Biggest Idiot Award today, aren't you?

Of course, even though she went along with one of these weird “force Marinette to do something she doesn't want to” schemes before in “Crocoduel”, Zoe seems to be the only one with a smidgen of common sense.

Zoe: Alya, did you hear Marinette’s voicemail message?

Alya: Yeah, but that was before, Zoe.

Zoe: “Before”? Before what?

Alya: Before when Marinette was a complete wreck.

Nino: But Alya sends her the perfect mechanic.

Alya: Adrien!

Nino: He’s fixing her up as we speak.

Rose: Wow! When they come back to school, they’ll finally be an item!

Marc: A perfect plan!

Zoe: But... you guys don’t actually know for sure.

Alya: Trust me. This is it this time!

I'm starting to think that maybe Marinette should reconsider who she chooses to be temp heroes once she gets the Miraculous back.

Adrien starts crying as he leaves Marinette's place, which attracts the attention of Monarch... who then immediately backs out as soon as he senses him, transforming back into Gabriel. Meanwhile, Tikki and Plagg discuss Marinette and Adrien's situation.

Plagg: Sugarcube! Having to force them to choose between love and their mission is just awful! Maybe Master Fu was wrong to choose them.

Tikki: No, they’re made for each other. Love is what gives them their strength.

Plagg: But the impossible part of that love is destroying them, and I know a thing or two about destruction.

Tikki: (sighs heavily) What can we do?

Plagg: We must free them of that impossible choice. We must... free them of us.

Yep. This is the titular Kwamis' choice. They seriously think that Marinette and Adrien's romantic problems are more important than them being superheroes, so their best option is to just take away their Miraculous even though Monarch still has fifteen more of them. I'd be more forgiving if this was towards the beginning of Marinette and Adrien's superhero careers, but this is Season 5, where the stakes have never been higher thanks to Monarch's arsenal. Oh yeah, I also forgot to mention that MARINETTE IS STILL THE FUCKING GUARDIAN, AND TAKING AWAY HER MIRACULOUS DOESN'T CHANGE A THING! IT'S NEVER EVEN MENTIONED IN EITHER EPISODE, SO HOW THE HELL DO YOU FORGET SOMETING THAT IMPORTANT?!?!

It doesn't even make sense that only now are Tikki and Plagg against Marinette and Adrien actually getting together when they were never shown to have any problems with it in earlier seasons, and just last episode, Plagg encouraged Adrien to go after Marinette after doing so as Cat Noir didn't work out. It comes across as the writers struggling to come up with new ways to have opposition to the Love Square, even if this idea somehow leads to a minuscule amount of progress in that department. Yeah, you figure that out...

Also, it's pretty weird how after four and a half seasons of Marinette suffering from the burden of being Ladybug, only now does Tikki decide to relieve her of that responsibility, but only because of how it affects her love life.

We get another scene showing how stupid Marinette and Adrien's friends are as they talk about how happy Marinette and Adrien must be now, interspersed with scenes of Marinette and Adrien crying their eyes out. Just like that one scene in “Evolution”, I don't get the setup. Is this meant to be a joke, or a serious moment? After Nathalie takes a call for Adrien telling Nino that he can't be bothered at the moment, Gabriel comes into the room to comfort him, giving him an Alliance ring in the process.

Tikki and Plagg talk to their respective holders and tell them how they feel that the burden of being heroes is crushing them. Marinette and Adrien obviously bring up the situation with Monarch, but as soon as their Kwamis mention that not being superheroes means that they can pursue their love lives with no stress, they immediately take off their Miraculous and give them back. After five seasons that this episode confirmed happened just under a year, and this is what causes them to give up their Miraculous: a bad case of heartache. We're supposed to see this as the breaking point that causes the two to not want to be superheroes ever again? They don't consider the innocent lives that could be in danger, or the fact that this heavy burden will most likely be forced on two new and inexperienced schmucks who will struggle even more than they did thanks to Monarch possessing powers of the other fifteen Miraculous.

I'm sorry, but I don't see this as an emotional scene. All I see is what I saw with Adrien in “Kuro Neko”: these characters simply giving up because of how much they're prioritizing their personal feelings over the lives of others. If this was something Marinette and Adrien came up with and made an agreement to quit at the same time (even choosing their own replacements), I'd sort of get it, as they'd at least be on the same terms, but neither of them ever learn the other quit until later on in the episode.

After Adrien breaks down even more, we learn that the whole reason Gabriel hesitated to akumatize Adrien the last time was because he didn't have an Alliance ring on, so now that he does, he's taking a mulligan. However, the Akuma is stopped at the last minute when Adrien sees the homework he was supposed to give Marinette, so he runs off as his negative emotions fade. Instead, Monarch chooses to akumatize someone else with five different Alliance rings.

Monarch: Rejoice, dear Kwamis! Five Alliances enables as many Miraculous powers to transfer at the same time! This villain promises to be exceptional! (laughs manically)

Pretty sure you hyped up Style Queen the same way three seasons ago, yet you still didn't get the Miraculous then, so I wouldn't gloat too soon.

The next scene with Marinette and Adrien is actually a really nice one. Marinette starts stuttering as usual when she tries to talk, but Adrien comes up with another idea: He'll ask a series of yes or no questions, and Marinette can raise her right or left hand to answer them. Adrien asks Marinette about her feelings for him, and Marinette accidentally answers no before changing her mind. Before Adrien leaves, he asks Marinette if she wants to spend more time with him in the future, to which she accepts. This scene was handled really well, and nothing really felt forced here.

Back with Alya, she and the others are once again coming up with a plan to get Marinette and Adrien together (because none of them have lives outside of the Love Square, I guess), when Nora suddenly calls.

Nora: Geez, sis! You never pick up the phone when I like, actually need your advice!

Alya: I couldn’t pick up. I’m at school!

Nora: Yeah, right. So, you see, I had no choice but to deal with it myself.

Alya: Oh, no... Nora. I told you before, you gotta talk before you act!

Nora: Yeah, but I did talk, like, I said stuff in front of Kouki's bros.

Alya: Nora! Not “talk” like that!

Yeah, outside of a few references to Nora trying to call Alya earlier in the episode, I didn't skip anything here. We're just thrown into this plot with little to no explanation as to what's going. What Nora and this Kouki guy were arguing about, much less what Nora said to his friends is never explained. I don't even known if they're supposed to be in a relationship or not. It's not like in “Sandboy” or “Oblivio” where the motivation for how the person got akumatized was only explained near the end of the episode. The episode acts like we're supposed to know who Kouki is and why he and Nora are fighting when this is the first time Kouki has ever appeared on this show.

As the conversation goes on, Tikki chooses Alya to be the new wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and Plagg chooses Zoe to be the new wielder of the Cat Miraculous. Okay, outside of Zoe being the only one in this episode who isn't a complete idiot, I can see why Plagg would choose her, since she has experience as a superhero, and her identity wasn't exposed. As for Tikki choosing Alya? Yeah, Alya did a good job as Scarabella in “Hack-San”, but she doesn't mention that A) She and Cat Noir still needed Marinette's help to stop Robustus, and B) Alya's already had her identity exposed twice, to the point where she was the one to suggest she not be trusted with one before Marinette lost the other fifteen Miraculous at the end of the last season. Alya's not a bad hero, but these factors don't exactly make her an ideal successor to Ladybug. Also, it's pretty dumb how the whole reason Marinette and Adrien quit was for romantic reasons, yet the whole reason Alya blew her cover last season was for romantic reasons (Rocketear).

Back with Adrien and Marinette, the former plans to leave, but is interrupted by the akumatized form of Kouki, named Kikou.

Kikou's design is... I mean, it's not terrible, I guess? Putting aside the fact that this is the second Akuma in the series to go with the “black boxer” stereotype (who is also a dumb brute like Anansi was), the gold jewelry is a decent touch, and it makes sense that he has the five Alliance rings to show off his wealth. As for his powers, because he has five rings, he has five different powers, the Tiger Miraculous' Clout to power his Gum-Gum Pistol-esque punches, the Turtle Miraculous' Shelter to protect his head where the Akuma is obviously hiding, the Horse Miraculous' Voyage to move around quickly and make up for his size hindering his speed, the Ox Miraculous' Resistance to protect the aforementioned Shelter, and the Mouse Miraculous' Multitude to clone himself with. This is the Akuma that really made me realize that the gimmick of every Akuma this season having the powers of whatever Miraculous Monarch gives them is just an excuse to half-ass writing any new Akuma powers in favor of the same fifteen abilities the other Miraculous have.

Kikou attacks the city, but Alya transforms into Scarabella, soon being joined by Zoe, AKA, Kitty Noire.

Kitty Noire's design is... pretty weird, all things considered. The green lipsick just doesn't look that good, I don't get the green hair extensions, and why are they eyes like that when even Lady Noire's eyes stayed green? At the very least, the hair looks marginally better than Catwalker's, and I like the detailing on the suit itself.

While Scarabella and Kitty Noire quickly get to know each other, Marinette and Adrien get used to being civilians again pretty quickly as they watch them fight off Kikou, the two new heroes struggling to keep up with Kikou's five Miraculous powers. Of course, Marinette and Adrien only look mildly concerned, not even regretting their choices in the slightest.

Our heroes, ladies and gentlemen.

Scarabella uses her Lucky Charm, getting a parachute, which is totally different from the kind used in the final episode of the first episode. Scarabella and Kitty Noire taunt Kikou, Scarabella drawing Kikou's fire while Kitty Noire recruits a bunch of firefighters, who then get some paint from the art store Socqueline runs. The firefighters then load the paint into their truck's hose, which is then used to fill up the parachute. Kitty Noire cuts the rope, and the paint blinds Kikou, and as soon as he deactivates his shield, Scarabella breaks his headgear, freeing the Akuma.

Scarabella de-evilizes the Akuma, sort of helps Kouki and Nora make up, uses Miraculous Scarabella to fix all the damage, while Marinette and Adrien compliment the new heroes from afar before promising to meet up at school tomorrow.

The first episode ends with Gabriel's Alliance recording the unusual data in two Alliances, meaning that Scarabella and Kitty Noire's identities have already been exposed... even though Tikki should have known this since “Jubiliation”. Yeah, you all know where this is going.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... TIKKI

While the competition was tough, Tikki was able to get the win for going along with this asinine plan in the first place that prioritized the personal feelings of two people over the fact that Monarch was at his most dangerous. Not only that, she forgot Marinette was still the Guardian, she forgot that Alya's identity was already exposed twice, and that even if she didn't know the Alliance rings were a front for Monarch's plan, forgot that these hi-tech rings track the everyday movements of its users, not even telling Plagg this before he chose Zoe.

The second part, “Deflagration”, immediately starts off with Kitty Noire saying that Ladybug and Cat Noir have nothing to feel guilty about even though they essentially abandoned Paris when Ladybug was shown to be getting backlash for her failure, but of course, that isn't mentioned here.

Kitty Noire: We’ll accomplish our mission just like they did, because the goal we all share is to defeat Monarch, isn't it?

News Reporter: Or perhaps Ladybug and Cat Noir renounced their mission so they could finally live their love story?

Scarabella: They were never in love or in a relationship, and neither are we.

Kitty Noire: (in a flirtatious tone) So far anyway!

I'd make a “The Ambiguously Gay Duo” joke here, but we all know Alya is already in a relationship.

Alya and Marinette meet up, the former congratulating her successor on another great job. The two talk about Adrien, and Alya once again encourages Marinette to focus more on pursuing a relationship with him, no doubt planning another stupid party in her mind.

We then get a scene that actually reminds the audience that Chloe and Zoe are supposed to be sisters. I understand if you might have forgotten, but don't worry. I'm pretty sure the writers did too. Of course, I think the writers might be running out of new ways to make Chloe mean to someone, because this time, she just yells at Zoe for being near her and not being in the “half-of-a-sister zone”. In order to appease her sister and make sure she doesn't call their mom, Zoe offers to wash all of Chloe's shoes. Plagg talks to Zoe about possibly standing up to her sister.

Plagg: How about I Catacylsm that sister of yours instead?

Zoe: It’s pointless, Plagg.

Plagg: Zoe, you can't let them treat you that way; no one speaks to me like that! Just ask the T-rexes... That is, if you can find one! Because they're not so smug anymore now, are they?

Zoe: It’s best to stay out of trouble in this family if I'm going to protect my secret identity.

Plagg: You start by giving up cheese, and then you end up giving up on dignity, freedom, and justice!

Zoe: I feel like you like to blow things out of proportion, don't you?

Plagg: Yes... especially when I’m starving.

Talking about standing up to your mean sister, contemplating murder while casually discussing genocide. Same thing, right?

We cut to Gabriel, who's over the moon about the recent revelation regarding Scarabella and Kitty Noire, even dancing a little. He tells Nathalie and heads to his lair to plan his next scheme, but not before chatting with Emilie's body once again. Gabriel transforms into Monarch and gives himself the powers of the Bee, Mouse, Rooster, Ox, and Horse Miraculous, traveling to the school himself.

Meanwhile, we cut to the Resistance, where we see Max has set up a system where, through the use of the Alliance rings and their phones, the members can alert the school to whenever there's an active Akuma... even though one of the features included in the Alliance includes an Akuma alert (Multiplication), and there's also been an Akuma alarm since Season 2 (Riposte). So once again, this brave and totally important Resistance has contributed absolutely nothing. Okay, there are some other parts, like some of the members planning to fight off the Akuma with paintball guns if there's no other option. You know, this is proof that this show takes place in France, because if this was America, they would most likely have actual guns.

At lunch, Marinette and Adrien get closer, to which Lila uses as an opportunity to manipulate Chloe into trying to break up the moment, but not before we get a joke where Chloe needs Alliance to define the word “generous”. Okay, I'm not sure if the joke was that Chloe is so selfish, she doesn't know the meaning of the word, or if the writers are now resorting to using “dumb blonde” jokes for Chloe now, which totally isn't a cliche that was overused twenty years ago to the point where there was an entire movie starring Reese Witherspoon made to subvert it. Either way, NOT FUNNY, DIDN'T LAUGH.

Chloe tries to ruin the moment by telling Adrien Marinette is in love with him, but he's not having any of that. She tries telling jokes that are supposed to be unfunny, they're funny, but it lacks the charm of something like Hank Hill attempting to tell “yo mama” jokes. Zoe stands up to Chloe, which pisses her off so much, she willingly accepts an Akuma from Monarch (currently invisible thanks to the Rooster Miraculous), turning into Sole Destroyer.

Sole Destroyer is... wow... Just... WOW... they didn't even try with this one. At least Miracle Queen made sense as an upgrade to Queen Wasp, but this? They literally just took Sole Crusher, whose design resembling Chloe made sense thematically in that episode, gave her a new pair of sunglasses, some more gemstones and spikes, and made her eyes glow as if she was a character in an episode of The Nostalgia Critic. Why go to this effort to make a new Akuma when so little is done with the new design? Wouldn't it make sense to bring back Antibug, given Chloe has been against Ladybug since the end of Season 3? As for Sole Destroyer's powers, it's just Sole Crusher's magic kicks, only instead of growing bigger in size after absorbing each victim and making her more of a threat, they transform into singing shoes. You know, guys, it just dawned on me how... how weird this show is. Kinda goofy...

Alya and Zoe attempt to transform, but Monarch, using a combination of the Mouse, Bee, and Rooster Miraculous' powers, stuns the two and steals the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous from them. Plagg attempts to Cataclysm Monarch, but Monarch uses Resistance to block it, immediately going to unify. Before the process can be completed, both Tikki and Plagg use Lucky Charm and Cataclysm respectively, Tikki summoning a trash can with the side effect of creating a new Eiffel Tower, and Plagg destroying the Cat Miraculous. Doing so ends up creating an endless cycle of things being created and destroyed, and unlike in “Dearest Family”, they don't reuse footage from “Style Queen”.

Marinette gets the trash can, and realizes what's happening, and while Adrien and Nino plan to have the Resistance try and stop Sole Destroyer, Marinette works on making her own Ladybug costume. Monarch orders Tikki to tell him what the hell's going on, Tikki explains that since Plagg destroyed the Cat Miraculous, he lost his only method of communicating with the physical plane, and all Monarch needs to do to get what he needs is to take back the Lucky Charm Tikki created. Just then, Marinette arrives, dressed up as Ladybug, and seemingly having the Lucky Charm in her hands, only for Monarch to steal it, unifying into Monarbug.

Given how stupid he looked as Shadow Noir last season, it's not exactly surprising to learn that Gabriel looks just as stupid unified with the Ladybug. The red and black polka dots just don't go with the black and purple. The one thing I'll give them credit for is that the eyes look kind of cool.

The Lucky Charm turns out to be a fake, and Nino jumps in to save Marinette from being hit with Venom. The rest of the Resistance also arrives, somehow having beaten up Sole Destroyer off-screen and turning her into a battering ram. Monarbug undoes the Akumatization, but Rose, Ivan, and Kim dogpile Monarbug, leaving Adrien to steal back the Ladybug Miraculous for Marinette.

Marinette transforms back into Ladybug, and uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage and fix the Cat Miraculous. While Ladybug fights Monarch, she learns that he reforged the Miraculous before Monarch uses Multitude and Voyage to make his escape, swearing that he'll beat Ladybug someday, “We'll meet again, Spider-Man”, yadda yadda yadda.

Tikki and Marinette talk about finding new holders, only for Marinette to choose to take back the Miraculous, figuring that since Monarch doesn't know their identities (once again forgetting what the Alliance rings can do), that's the best option. Plagg takes back the Cat Miraculous and goes to say goodbye to Zoe, reassuring her that she was still brave enough to stand up to Chloe, because I guess to hell with the people who somehow managed to restrain Chloe while she was Sole Destroyer. And so this episode, and by extension, this two-parter, ends with Ladybug and Cat Noir talking about how their Kwamis saved the day... even though they were the reason Monarch almost won in the first place.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... CHLOE

In addition to somehow not knowing the definition of the word “generous”, she failed to come up with a good comeback against Marinette, chose to get akumatized to get revenge, failed at that, betrayed Sabrina and Lila, her only allies, for no good reason, and somehow got defeated off-screen by a bunch of civilians with no superpowers, not even getting to fight either of the new heroes, including her sister.

But yeah, in case you can't tell, these episodes were pretty bad. The entire premise of Tikki and Plagg deciding that Marinette and Adrien's love lives were more important than stopping Monarch was a hard pill to swallow, especially since their replacements didn't get to do anything outside of a single Akuma fight. You'd think that with the buildup Zoe got standing up to Chloe, she'd at least play a role in stopping Sole Destroyer, but instead, she and Alya are benched for almost the entirety of “Deflagration”. It's also really dumb that the ending tried to make them out to be the MVP's of the fight, when their idea was what caused Monarch to almost get the Miraculous.

Even Marinette and Adrien didn't really make a lot of progress here. All they did was talk a little, but even after “Deflagration”, not much else happened. Yeah, Adrien stood up for Marinette, but they still haven't officially started dating yet, even when they had every reason to after giving up their Miraculous. It's still better than nothing, but after four and a half seasons, I think we're allowed to want a little more development with the Love Square Wouldn't it have been interesting to see Marinette and Adrien try to start a relationship during their brief retirement, only to struggle to maintain it after becoming superheroes again? We're almost halfway through the season, and the Love Square is still progressing at a snail's pace. Then again, I guess it's better than nothing at this point.

“Transmission” was pretty boring, all things considered. Other than the first act, nothing really happened. The Akuma fight was like the others, just with two new heroes, and Marinette and Adrien got to bond for a few minutes. Nora and Kouki's drama wasn't interesting, and it wasn't even properly explained like the motivations of other Akumas.

I will say that “Deflagration” was the better of the two, if only because Marinette, Adrien, and Gabriel made some smart choices here. Unlike in “Evolution” and “Destruction”, there's no gloating or wasting time. Monarch cuts straight to the chase, and Marinette comes up with a quick plan to trick him with. Also, while I still don't really care about the Resistance, I like the idea of the civilians standing up to Monarch, and think it was executed better than it was in “Heroes' Day”. Even Sole Destroyer got a few reactions out of me for how exaggerated her facial expressions were. I don't know why they decided to give her One Piece levels of weird faces, but kudos to the animators on that front. Of course, Sole Destroyer was still one of the most pointless Akumas in the show's history, as you could take her out of the episode and nothing would have changed.

Overall, while I appreciate the effort to try and tell bigger stories, this was a really weird choice of an episode to make a two-parter.

[heavenhealy]

so sorry to hear you’re sick :(( buttttt since we’re here can i request a cumplay blurb :)))

sorry this took me a hot minute I got busy and then lost motivation for writing for a sec but here ya go :) content warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, lots of talk about come and coming inside, fingering (f receiving), they’re obsessed w each other and aren’t quite ready to admit it, dirty talk! Please do not read if you’re uncomfortable or under 18! Also there are probably typos but I literally wrote this on my phone while I waited for the bus so lower your expectations for me plz

When you first started hooking up with Matty it was just that- hooking up. A fun fling for the two of you to occupy each others empty nights and you never really minded the one and done nature of your time together. You both had bigger careers and issues to focus on, and the certain nature of your relationship was almost calming in a world full of questions. You had your routine of meeting, talking briefly about life, making out and then sliding on Matty’s condom and getting to business.

Until you grew particularly tired of the condom part of the routine.

“Please, Matty, I haven’t been with anyone else since I haven’t got the time, and I’m on the pill anyway.” You plead to him, already half naked in the silky sheets of his bed. His lips part in shock, eyes round with disbelief.

“You’re sure?” He stares dumbly for a few more seconds, eyes miraculously not even straying to your naked tits, before his mind reboots. A groan rumbles deep in his throat. “I haven’t been with anyone else either.”

You try to ignore the shard of hope that lodges into your chest with that knowledge, but it quickly get overwhelmed by lust as Matty comes in for a searing kiss, wasting no time in shoving his tongue between your lips. His brain has surely caught up with the new information as he desperately scrambles to rid you of your panties, mumbling affirmations of how sexy you look while he goes.

“On your back, wanna see you take this cock.” You follow instructions easily, laying down against the pillows and spreading your legs for him. He moans out loud, whether at the sight of your bared pussy or the idea that he gets to be in it raw you aren’t sure.

He leans forward, strong arms caging in each side of your head, curls tickling against your forehead. You’re dazzled by his beauty this close, all the little gray hairs and pores that make him so endearingly human.

“I’m going to fucking fill you up.” The promise comes just before he drives into you, cock stretching your walls divinely. You both moan at the new feeling of all the ridges of him fitting perfectly within the confines of your warm walls.

Your eyes roll back as he sets his favorite steady and punishing pace, the headboard rattling above the pair of you as he marks the skin on your neck with purple bruises.

“You feel so fucking good, love. Why didn’t we do this shit earlier? I’m going fucking crazy being in you raw, you naughty little thing.”

His words go straight to your pussy and it’s almost embarrassing how close you are just from him talking to you, but the telltale twitch of his cock tells you that he’s just as wound up by this new venture.

“Matty please, want you to come in me, please please please?” If you were any more cognizant you might have even made and effort to bat your lashes at him, but the overwhelming burn of desire to be filled up by him takes over. Tears stream down the sides of your face as your pleasure hangs just moments away.

“You want me to fill up this pretty little pussy, keep you all dripping full of me? Wanna walk around the rest of the night knowing who you belong to?” His words are punctuated by moans as your pussy flutters around him.

“Fucking come then, come on,” Matty pushes two fingers over your clit roughly, just two circles of the nerves before you’re launching headfirst into your orgasm. Your vision blanks but you can hear him talking you through it as you rake your nails over his shoulders.

“Such a good girl, coming so hard for me, huh? That’s exactly what I wanted, love, so fucking sexy.” His words ground you as your body settles, and your eyes focus just fast enough to see the way his own scrunch in pleasure, hips faltering for just a moment before he’s grunting in that deep guttural way that only happens before he comes.

“Gonna fill you right up, love, all the cum you deserve.” His eyes roll as he cums, pushing his hips as far forward as they can go to be sure he gets you full. You keen at the sensation, body going into overdrive at the idea of your fantasy being fulfilled. Matty moans your name and it’s only then you realize you’re coming again just from being filled, a small orgasm that has your walls clenching around him, drawing as much of his release into you as possible.

Your pussy throbs as Matty kisses your forehead, the silent sign that he’s about to pull out of you. You grimace in anticipation for the rush of cum leaving you but it still feels mildly disappointing even as it happens.

Matty catches your face and chuckles, eyes focused on the mess of cum dripping out of you.

“Don’t be disappointed, love. It’s hot watching me drip out of ya.”

You roll your eyes at his boyishness.

“Be hotter if it was still in me,” you comment, half expecting him to just laugh and slap your leg playfully, but his features crumple in concentration, and before you know it his hand is between your legs, fingers dancing along the seam of your pussy.

Your body jolts and you moan in sensitivity but nod to tell him to continue.

Matty gathers his cum as it leaks from you onto his fingers and pushes it back into you. The feeling is odd but having his fingers inside of you sparks pleasure in your stomach again. You moan and Marty’s grin widens: mischief championing his features as he speeds up, hooking three fingers into your pussy and fingering you the way you had taught him you like. The extra squelch of his cum leaking around his fingers makes him moan too.

“Fucking dirty girl, making me cum in you and then push it back in when we’re done.” His tone is gentle despite his words, and he even plants a kiss to the inside of your knee as you squirm from pleasure. You feel the familiar crest of an orgasm coming and you don’t even have to tell Matty, he knows your body so well that he can tell by the way your breathing quickens and your hands clench at the sheets under you.

“C’mon then, love. Come again just from my fingers in this little pussy. Get my cum all up in there, yeah? Make sure your body knows you belong to me.”

You cum again, this time in a way that has your legs trembling with exertion as if you’d just run a marathon. Your tears are plentiful this time, rolling down your face with reckless abandon as your nerves spark with pleasure and sensations you can’t really describe.

Matty hurries to depart from between your legs, carefully climbing up the bed to be beside you as he cradles you, kissing your cheeks as you recover from all the sensations in your body.

“There’s my lovely girl,” his smile dazzles you and you can almost forget that he just made you cum three times.

“Hi, thank you,” you immediately lean forward for a kiss and he meets it, surprisingly sweet and gentle.

“I should be the one thanking you, I never would have had the courage to ask that if you hadn’t first. But that does remind me, we should get dressed.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, struggling to keep up with the mental gymnastics he uses so often.

“We’ve got to go to the pharmacy. Unless you want to keep the option open for a baby. I’m not banking on that pill, love. Especially since we’re never going back from doing all this.”

Despite the fact he’s literally talking about buying you plan B, it warms your heart to know he knows you well enough that you would want the extra layer of assurance. Your eyes twinkle as he helps you out of the bed, unabashedly checking you out as you walk to the bathroom together to clean up.

[masterwords]

go the f*ck to sleep

Summary: JJ sees Hotch struggling with single parenthood and offers to help. Miraculously...he accepts.

Pairing: none

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: mentions of canon character deaths (haley & jj's sister), insomnia, grief, depression

Notes: I woke up this morning and had this image in my mind. It was written so fast and it's barely a fully fledged thought but...here you go. It's sad Hotch hours. And it isn't hotchgan! (I have a lot of that coming your way in the next week though, between several stories and several moodboards.) Merry Thursday!

*********

It wasn’t much. Hell, it was barely anything at all, she thought as she set the paper cup (extra hot americano, double shot) on Hotch’s desk. She held the card in her hands, hesitant. His office was cleaner than it had been in as long as she could remember, and it made her deeply uncomfortable. Like he was hiding something.

He’d always been an open book when it came to his work load. Case files and reports stacked on his desk, his email perpetually two away from being overflowing, the data on his phone complaining about the number of texts he wouldn’t delete. Just in case he needed them. (And he had needed plenty of them, so the end justified the means, so to speak.) So this new thing, this clean office, clean desk, organized email inbox...well she was a little concerned.

Everyone deals with grief differently and as she looked around at this office she barely recognized, JJ could see his grief written in every tidy corner, every neatly filed piece of paper. Maybe he was on top of it so he could be home with Jack, that was best case scenario, but what she thought might actually be happening was that he’d simply begun taking all of it home with him. That he was drowning in his apartment where no one could save him.

She looked at the card in her hand and thought about her parents grieving over her sister. How her father stopped talking to her for months, how her mother doubled down on the anger and the intensity. How she became a surrogate for what was lost but not in any helpful way. She could remember it all vividly while knowing there was a lot of that time she’d never really be able to access. She was older than Jack when her sister died, Jack would have even fewer memories when he was grown. He’d barely have a glowing faded ghost of a mom in his head, but he’d have a hardened father who can’t smile and can’t sleep that is tangible and be full of resentment. She knew that from experience.

That was enough to make her set the card down. She might be overstepping, she probably was, and he might just drink the coffee and toss the card in the garbage can (she knew he wouldn’t) but she had to try. Derek was still trying, still absorbing a lot of the work load, anything he could without stepping on Hotch’s toes but everyone else had gone back to business as usual. She couldn’t leave Derek to shoulder this burden on his own, she had to try to help.

She was in a meeting with Strauss and Garcia when he finally made his way to his office. The coffee, once piping hot, was cold and he stared at it long and hard for a minute in disbelief. It had already been a hellscape of a morning, putting out fires left and right...most of which weren’t even his fires...and the sight of the coffee there almost pushed him over some inexplicable ledge. He sat on the couch, but it looked and felt a lot more like falling, like collapsing, like his legs simply giving out.

If the coffee came close, the card did the real pushing.

“Hotch,

When I had Henry, everyone made jokes about finally really knowing what it was like to need coffee...well they weren’t kidding. I know Jack isn’t a newborn, but I have a feeling the sentiment will ring true still. So here’s to coffee, huh?

From one caffeine addict to another, if you ever need help with Jack, call anytime. Henry could use a big brother to show him the ropes.

JJ”

The tone of the card was light, casual, but the sincerity in it made his chest ache. The likelihood of him asking JJ to babysit Jack for him was slim, he thought she knew that when she wrote it, but all the same he was touched by the sentiment. And the coffee, once reheated, was exactly what he needed to pick himself up and finish the day on his own two feet. (Before collapsing into bed as soon as Jack was asleep only to toss and turn all night long again and again and again and again. Only to finally crawl out of bed at 3am after sleeping in rough ten minute intervals all night, dragging himself to his messy home office and watching the sun slowly creep through his closed blinds with tired eyes and piles of paperwork as high as his knees.)

When he did finally call JJ for help, he’d been at the sleepless night thing for three months and things were starting to feel filmy and unreal. He was at the end of his rope. Derek had been his lifeline in many ways, absorbing the work load when it got to be too much, but he didn’t know the first thing about kids so Hotch couldn’t ask him to babysit. It would be a disaster. Then he remembered JJ’s card, and it felt like his last line of defense. A hail mary. “Could you watch Jack for me for an hour or two?”

“You have a date?” she asked with a cheeky smile, pushing a spoonful of mashed potato into Henry’s waiting little mouth while holding the phone between her shoulder and her ear. Hotch let out the saddest laugh she thought she’d ever heard.

“Not exactly. I was hoping to try to take a nap.”

“Ahhh, yes. I hear you. If I didn’t have Will forcing me to take naps during the day…” she paused, biting into her lip. The queen of foot in mouth has done it again, she thought. “Well. Just give me a time and I’ll be there.”

He made a pot of coffee and showed her around, giving her the lay of the land like she’d never been inside before. Like she hadn’t gone in after Foyet, gone in with Derek and Emily and Dave, ducked beneath crime scene tape to check the place out, look through his intimate things. But it was different now, there was life here. Jack’s things were brightly colored and littered the place with tiny happy bombs. An Iron Man blanket laid on the couch, a splash of bright crimson against the dull grayish brown. Legos were in the carpet, crayons all over the table with play doh crumbs and the remnants of the toast Jack was still insisting he wasn’t done with from breakfast. “I’m sorry I haven’t picked up,” he muttered, and she laughed.

“Hotch, it’s fine. This is pretty clean for someone with a kid that age. Really.”

He glanced around and shrugged, shame clawing at him in spite of her words. He should have done more to pick the place up. It really was the least he could have done, she wasn’t even accepting money from him for her time.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” he asked finally, glancing at Henry teetering on chubby little legs, brand new at the whole walking thing. He was invested in whatever it was that Jack was playing, he just had to get there first and that was slow going as a newly bipedal creature. Hotch glanced around and saw all of the choking hazards, the glass, the outlets not covered, the corners to bang his head on and the kitchen drawers easily opened to danger and death. His apartment wasn’t baby proofed because he never had Jack here at that age. He hadn’t thought this through. Not only that, but he noticed that Jack still had bright purple and green marker on his chin and forearms, remnants of his unsupervised tattoo session while Hotch was shaving one room away. He thought he'd gotten all of it washed off.

“Hotch...it’s okay. I’m going to sit here with them and they’ll play and that’s it. Maybe we’ll read a few stories, color a picture, rob a bank if we get really bored…”

“Thank you JJ.”

“ Wow. Not even a laugh huh?”

He smiled weakly. “I’m sorry. I haven’t really been sleeping.” Like that should explain it all. Judging by the look she gave him, it might have. The look on her face was compassionate, but he detected a little pity there too. He figured he deserved it. If he looked in the mirror he’d give himself the same pitying look.

"Do you need a bed time story?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow. His eyes went wide for a moment, his features finally giving way to a tired smile. A real one, unprovoked.

"No. Thank you though. Really."

"Alright then, go. I’ll try to keep them quiet. Thank you for the coffee. Get some sleep Hotch.”

[flightfoot]

do you have any fic recs about the miraculous squad post-canon as adults, that focuses on other characters besides just adrien and marinette?

Hmmm. So I guess for this, I'll look for any fics set in the canon universe where the main characters aren't Adrien or Marinette. Or at least, where other characters get equal billing.

---

The 8 Weddings of Alix Kubdel by The_Rabbit42

The bet is simple: with the Rabbit Miraculous, Alix will be speaking at all of her friends’ weddings. No matter what age they tie the knot, she’ll be there looking the same. From Alix’s perspective, she’s going to each ceremony and reception one right after another in a nonstop bender.

This fic’s a lot of fun! I loved seeing all the different weddings, as well as how Alix slowly felt more and more out of place, with going forwards in time. Some of the weddings could get, uh. Exciting as well XD. And while there’s been years in-between Alix’s appearances for her friends at the wedding, for Alix, it’s only been a few hours, if that…

---

Strangely Familiar by @sunfoxfic

Alya Césaire’s life is perfect. Indeed, between the success of the Ladyblog, how well she’s doing in school, and the fact that she’s a superhero who has never bore the weight of a crisis of epic proportions, her life almost couldn’t be better. Almost. But Alya has always been a go-getter, and so she’ll chase after that perfect life if it kills her. Which is how she ends up rushing to move out of her father’s apartment and in with Marinette, Adrien, and a complete stranger: Nino Lahiffe. And in fact, her life does seem perfect — she and Nino are fast friends. They spend a lot of time together and get to know each other really well. But in the end, fortunate situations will bear unfortunate truths, and she learns things about herself that aren’t quite comfortable. Like I said, though: Alya has always been a go-getter, and she won’t let new feelings deter her from chasing after her perfect life.

This is the single longest DJWifi-centric fic on AO3 (which is a travesty) and it is GLORIOUS. Alya and Nino are both well fleshed-out here, with their own problems and baggage they’re dealing with, but it’s easier together.

---

When Feelings Are Too Big For Words by ClockworkCaptain:

When Luka takes a gig playing for a drag show he’s falls hard and fast for the drag queen Buttercup who uses her performances to work through her own em otions. Meanwhile Adrien’s been using drag to work through his own emotions and thinks maybe Luka coming back into his life and showing interest might mean a second chance. Made for @mlsecretsanta 2022

Published on New Year’s Eve, this just barely makes it to the deadline for this list. I’m glad I don’t need to wait a year to talk about it though! One of the issues I tend to have with Luka shipfics, and with Lukadrien especially (though I think Lukanette actually has this problem worse) is how Luka tends to disappear within the fic and the pairing, feeling more like “The Love Interest” than his own person. Not so here! While most of the intrigue surrounds Adrien, I still got the sense of Luka being his own person, not just existing in the fic for Adrien.

 I adored Adrien getting to display an aspect of himself through persona and performance - that does align well with how he approaches Chat Noir -  and overall I just had a lot of fun with this fic!

---

Everybody's Changing by @coffeebanana

Alya's finding it a little hard to adjust to her new normal, post-Shadow Moth. Which...might be why she's a little more focused on getting Marinette and Adrien to finally figure out they have feelings for each other than actually enjoying her graduation party. She knows she should feel relieved that Shadow Moth's gone, but...things just feel so much more complicated. It's hard to accept that some things just won't be the same, anymore. Thankfully, Nino knows exactly what to say and do to help her figure things out. Or: DJwifi for day 11 of Kiss Prompt November (effervescent)

---

may we write it all down (in cursive light) by @sunfoxfic

Since retiring as a journalist, Alya hasn't been involved in an interview in several years. But now that her identity is out, that's about to change.

---

Number One by christallized

Marc and Nath have been dating for a while, but the rest of the world doesn't have to know that. It's complicated, it brings unwanted questions and anxiety. But the Comic of the Year contest is coming up, and Marc knows that sometimes what matters most isn't the thoughts of the rest of the world. Sometimes it only has to matter to one.

---

raw honey: a coffee with chloe bourgeois by demistories

I meet up with Mlle. Bourgeois at a classy, upscale café just in time for brunch. When I arrive, she’s sitting at an outside table and typing on her phone, glittering nails clicking against the screen. She doesn’t even look up at me when she says, “Fancier than you’re used to, huh, Césaire? Think it’ll break the bank?”  I remind her that she still owes me a meal from the last time we saw each other, and she scoffs and removes her sunglasses.  “You asked me for an interview,” my former classmate says. “The polite thing would be to foot the bill, but I suppose I can cover you just this once.” Her sarcasm is biting, but her smile is genuine.  an interview between alya césaire and her former classmate, chloé bourgeois

---

I hope these satisfy you!

[so-i-grudgingly-joined-this-site]

Dream-Killing Bitches, Evil Exes, and Bad Moms: Portrayals of Women in "The Kindly Ones"

So, I've been attempting to write a more formal meta about this for months, but I've not gotten it to ever gel properly, so I thought I'd share my thoughts more informally here.

COMICS SPOILERS AHEAD

Basically, there is something really weird about how women are treated in The Kindly Ones arc of The Sandman.

The semi-official guidebook "Sandman: King of Dreams" basically called The Kindly Ones a #GirlPower arc, but I don't find much particularly empowering about it. Lyta literally goes insane from the stress of being a single mother, albeit exacerbated by supernatural forces. Thessaly is a TERF bitch who serves the role of "spiteful ex" to the protagonist. Nuala is passive and sad and ultimately just pushed around by the whims of the men around her, and when she finally makes a choice of her own it kills the person she cared about. Rose's quarter-life crisis is miraculously "solved" by an unplanned pregnancy. Chantal and Zelda die of AIDS. Even the unstoppable Furies are ultimately a tool in a man's orchestrated suicide-by-magical-cop.

Maybe this is a leftover from when the books were written? Maybe this was the epitome of feminism in the 90s? Or maybe the guide was meaning that the women were powerful as in LITERALLY powerful...women sure do wield a lot of deadly strength and magic in this, even if none of them are particularly EMpowered, if you catch my meaning.

There's also layers as to how we're supposed to interpret this in relation to Morpheus, our doomed protagonist. I've written previously about how we might be intended to see him as an unsympathetic misogynist. If that's the case, then perhaps his doom at the hands of multiple female forces is supposed to be karmic and positive, no matter how questionable those women are. Support for this interpretation is the myth the old ladies (a manifestation of the Kindly Ones?) tell Rose, wherein a deceptive man who abuses and kills his wife meets a karmic comeuppance at the hands of his magically transformed daughters and resurrected wife.

There's also the fact that Overture reveals that Morpheus has MASSIVE issues with his mother. If one decides not to interpret Morpheus's death as a suicide, there is the possible alternate explanation that he frankly underestimated Lyta's threat level to him. Having never experienced a mother's unconditional love, he couldn't fathom that a mother could love her kid enough to literally go insane and kill gods over them.

But even as motherhood is a negative path to stress, insanity, and threatening the fabric of the universe, it's also VERY uncomfortably presented as a cure-all. Rose only gets her heart back by getting knocked up, and we're supposed to see Lyta's suggestion of an abortion as further continuance of Lyta's madness. But of all people, Lyta knows what she's talking about! She knows how difficult single motherhood is! She was going mad even before supernatural intervention... In fact, multiple sequences in The Kindly Ones make it ambiguous what elements are supernatural and what are just her mind interpreting mundane signs as godly while cracking under realistic stress!

This goes outside of the arc I chose to focus on, but I also can't help but contrast the two lesbian couples: Foxglove and Hazel vs. Chantal and Zelda. Foxglove and Hazel end up on the path of traditional motherhood, down to having to choose a child over a career, despite being lesbians! Meanwhile, Chantal and Zelda, as mentioned, die horribly of AIDS. The paths for women are motherhood, tragedy, madness, or some combination thereof.

I'd almost say that the ultimate message of The Kindly Ones regarding women is "no matter what type of woman you are, things will go horribly for you, you cannot win, and no matter what you are at the whim of a violent patriarchal system. The closest you can come to 'winning' is unfortunately by playing into the male-POV fantasy of devoted motherhood." But. like. that was DEFINITELY NOT THE INTENDED WRITTEN MESSAGE. BUT THAT IS THE MESSAGE THAT RESULTS.

Forget asking if Morpheus is a misogynist, the NARRATIVE ITSELF of The Kindly Ones pushes misogyny more than any individual character does!

tagging those who I know like discussing/reading meta:

@serenityspiral @orionsangel86 @violetoftheendless @duckland @notallsandmen

[plusvanity]

idk if youve done this or want to do this but, any travis headcanons? 👉👈

just love your style of writing. :3

Ofc!!! <3 and thank you very much, you're such a lovely person, I've seen you a lot on my reblogs/ likes and I wanted to thank you for supporting me <3 I honestly HOPE this doesn't sound too weird, haha.

So, here comes Travis:

-Travis is a very soft boy inside but he's masking it very well.

Growing up, he was a pretty curious and active child. He loved his mother to no end as she was the most beautiful, compassionate, generous and gentle soul he ever found in a person. (He realized that a lot later in time)

He'd do anything with her. Play, pray three times a day, thank God for every little beautiful thing in his life, help around and just be the silly little boy that he was.

He always feared his father even though, when he was little, all the punishment was verbal and/or regarding the chores that he hated to do.

(There was tension, hostility and disinterest in his father's behavior but nothing to be too outrageous..Yet. Needles to say, this stayed like this due to his mother's presence in the house that acted as an referee, calming down her demented husband and soothing little Travis's pain away)

Unfortunately from here, things only go dark and.. blindly assuming that u know what I'm talking about lol, here's the part when Travis mothers gets ill, the cult doesn't do anything about it, Travis is way too young and insignificant in this whole equation to do anything himself and... she eventually dies.

-Travis's first trauma hits harder than his father's slap.

Now, young Travis found himself in a very disturbing and visceral reality. It might all seem like a horrible nightmare (and that's how he saw it back then) but unfortunately it's not.

Dissociation was his only way out. No, he didn't develop the full DID, but his massive trauma triggered his brain to such an extent that it needed to shut down lots of processes in hope to self-preservate and get away from the pain. (This is the easiest way I can explain it but of you're curious in HOW utterly shocking the whole process is, search on Google 'brain neuroimaginy while dissociating' and you'll see that the cerebral activity shrinks to almost no activity at all)

He went on living with this whole disaster on his shoulders, suppressing the trauma as much as he could.

Nobody was on his side, nobody acknowledged that what they 'let happen' was absolutely immoral and cruel. Nobody fucking admitted they were wrong.

Classic religious approach for 'Meh, SHE wasn't meant to be, I guess???'

- Now, alone with his barely-wanted son, the passive-aggressive treatment began to escalate into nasty shit.

Travis got much more involved in the church community, now with a stable role in the church's chorus and as his father's 'right hand'. Their dynamics never screamed 'abuse' from a distance... or maybe it did but that's how ignorant the church community was????

Punishments moved from verbal abuse and degradation to physical. Fists, kicks, hair pulling and dragging across the floor (This one is bad, believe me for a fucking reason lol) and food interdiction.

-With no way around or soul to listen to his pain, he kept everything inside, locked the misery with a key, crossed his fingers and hoped for it to.... miraculously dissolve overnight?????

-First romantic interest.

I wouldn't really call it a 'romantic interest' as he was a middle-schooler BUT first crush.

It was a boy his age that he befriended within the church community.

The little attention, compassion and fun they had, quickly unlocked the emotional burden on Travis's heart. In a naive and very impressionable state of mind, Travis found himself pouring his heart out to that boy. He told him the things he wasn't supposed to tell anyone in hope for understatement and more compassion.

Not gonna lie, it made the other kid feel very weird and confused. He didn't say too much, thing that made Travis's heart..... ache.

The second Worst Day of His Life quickly came when Travis, naively assuming that the other boy had mutual feelings for him, made the worst mistake.

The kiss was like a blink of an eye.. and the kid went broadcasting the event to everyone around the church.

When Travis's father found out it was...bad to say the least. The rage, the shame and the disappointment for his brat of a son came in bloody fists, kicks and bruises.

That day, it teached Travis an important lesson in life. 'Don't you ever open up'

As the things escalated, fear naturally turns into hate. Hurt turns into rage (you see where this is going) and he begins to harden up.

-Travis puts on a mask but... not so much really?

His anger is almost unbearable. The steam and fuel drives him to act as a semi-copy of his father, crashing on small prey, in his case, Sal's gang (with Sal especially as a target) This reaction is natural and expectable from a deeply traumatized kid.

Jealousy acts as a reassuring factor that 'Yes, he needs to slash and burn the blue haired boy'

He uses all the slurs and insults that destroyed him as a weapon because in the end, he doesn't hate Sal. He hates himself.

-He desires happiness, human relationships, closure and security. He does. He misses his mother so much, he'd rip his heart apart to see her one more time.. he seeks comfort, softness and understanding in Sal. He sees the love he needs the most and he's utterly incapacitated to chaise that love. Not when he treated Sal this way for all these years.

-Travis lets someone in, learns a healthy coping mechanism and earns a valuable friend.

When Travis and Sal get close, Travis explodes with everything that hurt him, narrating Sal his whole damn life, finally allowing himself vulnerability for the first time in the eyes of a true caring person.

-Travis follows the journey of healing without hating himself and allows Sal to guide him through the process.

Travis has a very long way to go but he finally realizes that there's light at the end of the tunnel. Generational trauma is a new perspective that he needs to explore in hope to give himself a bit of comfort. 'It's not you personally that they try to bring down, it's anyone in your place that will experience this conflict'.

He comes to terms with how beyond repair his father's roots and beliefs are and he tries his best to distance himself from the misery... as much as his still-minor position allows him.

It's all about making it livable for now..

-Travis learns to value his new friendship with Sal more than he desires a relationship.

Some happier trivia now.???

-Travis is pretty good at singing!

-Travis gets to love David Bowie because he reminds him of the time Sal sang and played 'Heroes' for him. The song and the meaning grew inside his mind as one of the best memories and happiest moments of his life.

Another song that he listens and laughs a bit in irony is: Modern Love. "Never gonna fall for (modern love) Walks beside me (modern love) Walks on by (modern love) Gets me to the church on time (church on time)' it's about Sal, obv :3

-Travis used to get involved around school activities too to put on the 'Pretty Preacher's Son' mask to simulate false-perfection but he grew out of it thanks to Sal.

-Travis loves long walks and talking and laughing at silly little things.

-Travis vision on religion:

Part-time atheist, Part-time believer. The religious trauma and guilt is not something that he'll ever grow out of. It's something that can't be changed and in order to survive, he needs to change his life vision.

There are times when he hates God, blames him for turning his back when he was suffering. There are times when he still clings to the idea that there's something out there, something that... brought Sal in his life. There are times when he sees Christianity as nothing but a mass-controlling copied and revamped religion imported from Egypt that instead of bringing the people closer to God, it actually alienates them because of all the punishment and un-bendable rules that made the Bible be the fucking Bible.

It makes people selfish, judgy and look down on other religion because FUCK U if u don't think like me- broken mentality.

Alright, I genuinely HOPE this is a bit of a more in-depth analysis of Travis and his contradictory personality. If you feel like asking anything, feel free to do so! I doubt that this post is fully readable lol.

Anyway, have a great day!! <3 :3

[catreginae]

Thou Shalt Not Fall: The Past - Return to the Castle

Link might be a vampire now, but he still had a role to fulfill.

[Previous] - [Next]

View the Master Post here!

Being at the castle again felt odd and almost wrong. That wasn’t to say Link wasn't happy to be with his friends again, people who actually enjoyed his presence even though they knew he was a vampire, but his condition made him anxious and he knew everybody else was feeling it too. He wasn't sure if he could trust himself. He was convinced he would somehow blow his new secret without the other vampires watching his back all the time. Zelda, thankfully, had no expectations that he was good for duty just because he returned, so his first goal was to get used to being at the castle again.

Tune was surprisingly helpful. He never expected the kid to be so knowledgeable about vampires. If vampires were such a closely held secret, how come Tune knew so much about them? How did Tune always manage to figure out what he needed or what he was concerned about? Link was sure that if he had a moment to sit down and think about it, he could come up with some theories, but as it was, Link was currently distracted with trying to pretend that he was a normal Hylian.

“What did Zelda even tell everybody anyway?” he asked as he rubbed his eyes. Mask and Tune took to sleeping in his room, sometimes sleeping in temporary cots that they set up while he was gone, or sometimes sneaking into his bed sometime during the night. It was their way of letting him know that they were still there for him, but they also used the fact that were in the same room to literally drag him out of bed in the morning. He was beginning to get used to it but he still hated waking up every morning, especially if he woke up because his body hit the floor.

“Just that you had a family emergency to take care of and you were given leave for it... so don’t be surprised if people ask you how your family is.”

Well, it was a good thing there wasn’t a lot of people who knew about his family to question the excuse. He supposed that Zelda wasn’t too far off the mark considering how easily Elena took him in though. He was sure she wouldn’t mind being called family.

“It’s time for breakfast and I’m starving. We can talk and eat,” Mask mumbled.

Link smiled, mostly to himself. He couldn’t believe that they were acting like nothing really changed. He appreciated that. “Okay, fine. You don’t have to pout.”

“I don’t pout.”

“Sure you don’t.”

It was a few months later when Zelda and Impa called him and Proxi for an emergency meeting and he knew before stepping into Zelda’s office that the news wasn’t good. If there was good news, Zelda tended to come to him, not the other way around.

Link sort of expected what Zelda said, or at least he considered the events a possibly. Ganondorf resurfaced – Link was waiting for him. He knew the man would come back, just not when or where. Lana was requesting help as Ganondorf was approaching, according to a note that Zelda miraculously got from a small gate. It was too bad that Lana could summon creatures and move other people through her gates but she couldn’t move herself through them to get away. Lana could generally take care of herself but against Ganondorf? The fact that she asked for help was enough of an answer.

“We have to help her!” Proxi called out. Link merely nodded as Proxi, who always knew him so well, already said what he wanted to say. He would help her even if she didn’t carry precious cargo. He didn’t need a reason other than the fact they were friends to go and rush to her aid. It just helped that Ganondorf was the man he was looking for too. If he could kill Ganondorf, then they wouldn’t have to worry about him coming to the castle.

“We’ll send whatever help we can,” Impa stated. “I will personally go and lend her whatever aid I can. However, I think the two of you should stay here.”

“With all due respect, General -”

“Link, you’re still adjusting,” Zelda said quietly. “Besides, should Impa and Lana fail, we’ll be needed here. We can’t leave our people undefended. It’ll be up to us to launch a counterattack.”

Link chewed on his lips. He hated what they were saying but he knew he probably wasn’t going to convince them otherwise. Deep down inside, he knew he wasn’t quite ready to fight him just yet. He wouldn’t be a slouch on the battlefield but he didn’t feel like he was at the skill level he was at before he became a vampire. Swordplay used to come easily to him but for some reason, having a sword in his hand didn’t feel quite as right as it did before.

And as nice as it would be if his vampire powers were enough to make sure Ganondorf was no longer a threat, he doubted that his life would be so easy. He had to regain his skills. No, he had to surpass the skills he had previously.

“Isn’t it dangerous to let him come to the castle too? We should be taking the battle to him.”

“Link...” Proxi mumbled.

Zelda looked away, her mouth settled into a frown. Impa didn’t look away but her gaze held no warmth, only calculations.

“I don’t know what the best answer is, Link. All I know is that I can’t bare the thought of leaving Lana alone and I can’t bare the thought of leaving my people either.”

“Okay,” was all he could say as he left. He knew it was inappropriate to just walk out on Impa and Zelda, at least by military standards, but he knew there wasn’t any point in him staying any longer. The decision was already made after all. He didn’t even know why he was called for the meeting if they didn’t actually care about what he had to say.

He would stay if that was what Zelda wanted but he wouldn’t like it.

Link thought that they were as ready as they possibly could be for Ganondorf’s arrival. Link decided to do his best to prepare the surrounding defenses and drill the troops through exercises just in case Impa and Lana couldn’t repel his attack. He was grateful that he did, even as Ganondorf and his army tore through whatever defense he and Zelda set up. It would have been worse had they not tried at all.

Or at least, that was what he was telling himself as he down a potion that Tune handed him before shoving the empty bottle back into his hands. At least potions seemed to work on him the same, instantly healing the worst of his wounds even before the regeneration kicked in. “Wait, where do you thinking you’re going?” Tune asked.

“Ganondorf is still out there! I can’t just leave Zelda to fight him alone. If we lose today, Hyrule falls. We don’t have a choice.”

“You’re injured. You should rest just a bit longer.”

“I’m fine.”

Proxi hovered between him and Tune for a moment before flying to his side.

“Link, I think you should listen to Tune. You’re just going to lose to Ganondorf again if you go back to fight in that state.”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, we’re going in with a change of plans.”

One of the things that Link and Zelda practiced together once Link returned to the castle was calling upon the power of their pieces of the Triforce whenever they needed it. Before, Link was only able to use it in the heat of the moment, like how he used it to defend Impa and himself against Volga’s flames. He had more control of it now. He didn’t want to use its power if he could help it. Both he and Zelda agreed that it was a last resort.

He couldn’t afford to lose to Ganondorf.

“What does that even mean?” Tune asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Link mumbled as he left one their remaining forts to charge right back into battle. If he could just use the Triforce to regain the fort Ganondorf was using as his headquarters, then they could potentially trap him and his forces in the middle. They could even sabotage Ganondorf’s ability to plan, organize, and retreat. Without a base of operations, an army could definitely fall.

Link considered using his vampire powers to rush to the gate but instead, he went as fast as his Hylian legs could take him. He had better control of where he was going – the tree was still fresh in his mind – and it didn’t hurt that he was able to take out more of the monsters that Ganondorf was controlling as he got there.

He got to the fort but he wasn’t able to do much of anything before he could sense Ganondorf’s looming and foreboding presence follow him inside. He only had the chance to turn around and raise his sword before Ganondorf closed the distance between them with a long stride – damn his height – and wrapped a hand around his neck and raised him in the air. His sword clattered to the ground.

Link resisted the urge to bare his fangs and hiss. Ganondorf’s presence set him on edge just from the other side of the battlefield, but for Ganondorf to be right in front of him, hands around his neck, made his nerves go haywire. Link tried in vain to pry his fingers off and he knew that if he forced his fangs out, he would have more than enough strength to free himself but he didn’t dare to. He tried to kick but his legs were too short to reach the man. Link didn’t think of himself as short but he was definitely short in comparison to Ganondorf.

“You don’t have to hide anything from me, boy,” Ganondorf chuckled with a smirk. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice the corruption? Did you really think I wouldn’t know what the sorceress did to you? Though, I suppose there is a good reason why you don’t hold the piece of wisdom.”

He wasn’t going to give into his taunts. Anger was boiling in his veins but he wasn’t going to give in, dammit! He wasn’t going to give Ganondorf an inch. He tried to focus his power and he could feel warmth rush in his blood as his piece activated but Ganondorf’s simply grabbed his wrist with his free hand and the feeling instantly died down.

Suddenly, there was a shout from just outside of the fort. He didn’t need his superior hearing to hear Zelda’s voice calling out his name.

“Oh? You’re just going to pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about?” he asked, pulling Link closer so that their faces were just a couple of inches apart. “Tch, just as well. I don’t need you to admit to anything. In fact, let me to test out my theory.”

Link raised an eyebrow when suddenly, the world spun and Link was face to face with one of Zelda’s arrows, imbued with light magic, flying right for him. Ganondorf was holding him in place, and even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to move fast enough, not even with his vampire powers.

He was blinded by pain when the arrow hit. It felt like his entire body was on fire, spreading from his right shoulder, down his arm, and across his chest. It felt like he was being torn from the inside out. If he screamed, he didn’t hear it over the buzzing in his head. If Ganondorf let him go, he didn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything other than his soul being set ablaze and he couldn’t hear anything but the static in his head.

Somehow, he stayed conscious. His vision cleared a little, so he could tell that he was on the ground and that he was probably staring at Ganondorf’s feet, but that was about it. He tried to move but all he could do was twitch his fingers and even that felt completely agonizing.

Ganondorf bent down beside him, grabbing his wrist and pulling his unresponsive body up. Link didn’t even have it in him to hiss or lift his head.

Suddenly, his body was burning with pain again, this time radiating from his left hand. It took his groggy mind a second to realize what this meant, but even if he picked up on it quicker, he was in no shape to stop Ganondorf from taking his piece of the Triforce. He knew the kingdom would be doomed if Ganondorf managed to get his hands on it, but getting hit with one of Zelda’s light arrows made his head spin and quite frankly, it was a miracle Link knew what was happening at all.

The pain didn’t last long at least. Ganondorf let him go, and he passed out as soon as his body hit the ground.

Tune wished that he watched Wild extract blood from dead monsters more often because he always made it seem so easy. Wild could harvest anything from a monster with an ease and grace that most people didn’t have. Granted, Tune didn’t know he had to study or take notes because he was completely unaware of the fact that he was part of the same war that Time and Warriors spoke of. He didn’t blame them from keeping it a secret because thinking about how he was probably the source of all the knowledge Time had – the knowledge that Tune relied on in the past – was headache inducing. However, the point still stood. He didn’t know there was going to be a test, so he didn’t know he should have been studying the fine art of extracting blood from dead monsters.

But he had the general idea, at least. He knew Wild used gravity to make blood pool, then he would make an incision to collect it.

Tune made it a point to carry rope on him at all times since Link was now a vampire. He doubt he would lose control again, at least not until Link became Warriors, but he was glad his habit of bringing ropes with him meant he could tie a dead bokoblin to a tree and make a cut on its foot. He filled a couple of the bottles, untied the bokoblin, stuffed the bottles into a bag so they were out of sight, and returned to camp.

The mood at the camp was abysmal. Without the chaos of a retreat, all that was left was the misery and the anxiety. Tune didn’t blame anybody for the mood – they did lose a very important battle and both their princess and their captain were sidelined. Obviously, they were in for a happier ending if Link would eventually earn the name Warriors and go on another journey that involved time travel, but it wasn’t like he could tell them that. Tune ignored the chill and walked into the tent he knew Link was recovering in, which was guarded by a Sheikah outside.

The tent was sparse. It was mostly just Link resting on a rickety cot, with a couple of stools around it. Mask was sitting on one of those stools, hands resting on his knees. There was an extra, thinner blanket thrown on top of Link to protect him from the little bit of sunlight that passed through the tent during the day. Even though it wasn’t day time now, the blanket was barely pulled back, so Tune couldn’t see his face until he much closer to the cot.

He pulled one of the bottles out, catching the attention of Mask – a little baby Time, he would never get used to it.

“I have a couple of these,” Tune started as he popped the cap off. “One bottle should make him feel pretty full, but it won’t be enough to heal him.”

“How many more of those will we need?” Impa asked, coming to join him by the way of Link’s cot.

“I don’t know for sure.” They weren’t the worst wounds Tune ever saw him with but it was pretty bad – the skin around his right collar bone was completely charred, along with the upper half of his bicep. He still had burns down the right side of his body, stretching slightly over his chest, and down the rest of his arm, but those burns were thankfully mostly first degree burns. He obtained worse burns after donning the name Warriors. “We’ll see how he feels after this first bottle.”

One of the other things that Tune learned in his past was the fact that young vampires were pretty reactive to the smell of blood as long as they weren’t completely unconscious or in a deep sleep. He was hopeful that Link was just sleeping as held the open bottle of blood under Link’s nose. After about half a minute, Link cracked his eyes open, revealing yellow and red. He didn’t seem to be entirely awake and aware but as long as his eyes were open, Tune knew he would drink blood.

“That’s normal,” Tune said when Mask’s eyes widened. “The fangs come out when vampires are hurt badly. Let’s get him up.”

Together, all three of them moved Link into a more comfortable position by propping up the pillows underneath him, which was enough of an angle for Link to comfortably drink at. Thankfully, aside from holding the bottle in place, Link didn’t need any help to drink and the more he drank, the more he perked up. Once he emptied the bottle, Link settled back into his pillows, his eyes scanning the room.

“Fuck, it hurts...” he muttered. “What’s the situation?”

“Just focus on getting better. There’s no point in getting worked up when there’s nothing you can do about it,” Impa answered simply. “Rest assured though, we’re safe for the time being.”

“What about Zelda?”

“She’s still injured but she’s only has to take it easy, so she’s still helping where she can. She’s next door making plans with Lana, in fact.”

Link frowned but Mask tapped him in one of the burn free places of his arm before Link could say anything. “I know you’re an idiot so you’re not going to listen,” he started, earning a hiss in response, “but right now, the only person you gotta worry about yourself. You have the most injuries out of everybody in the camp right now.”

“And they’re burns, so regeneration will take some time,” Tune added. “You really have to take it easy for now so you can repay the favour, got it? We lost the battle but we haven’t lost the war.”

“Haven’t lost the war huh,” Link mumbled. “I guess that’s true.”

“It is. Get better so we can put our heads together. We’ll win back Hyrule if it’s the last thing we do, got it? At any rate, I have to go check in on the princess. Tune and Mask are in charge of you,” she said in her General Impa voice before leaving the tent. Link rolled his eyes.

“I’m doomed,” Link mumbled.

Okay, so there's a lot more I could have included but I really only wrote this chapter - and this arc as a whole - for the friendly fire scene. That being said, this is the end of The Past Arc and we'll return to the present in the next chapter!

[trainsinanime]

WIP reblog game

I got tagged by @chaos-has-theories and @into-september. Sorry for the delay in doing this, I just forgot about it.

If you're like me and you have a million WIPs and are anxious about updating them, play this game!

List the titles your top five priorities for WIP updates (link your fics for new readers!)

An upcoming scene, event, or detail in each fic that you're looking forward to writing

Bonus: make a poll for your followers to vote on which top 5 WIP they are most excited to see an update on!

Then tag 10 writer friends!

Let's start with the stories. So, I don't trust myself with multi-chapter stories, it takes me forever to write one-shots already, so (almost) none of these are out yet. You can read the ones that are out over here.

Operation Multifail. Three-chapter story where Marinette tries to convince Chat Noir to stop thinking about Multimouse by fighting as Multimouse, badly, on purpose, so he'll think she's incompetent. It doesn't quite work out.

Kwamidaddy Adrien. Assumes Marinette is the guardian. For reasons, Chat Noir has to take the Kwamis for a while. They all promised not to tell him anything about her private life. Shouldn't be a problem, right? This one may also end up being like three chapters

Chlogami Sabrina's Wedding. I think I posted a rough outline for chapter one here: It's Sabrina's wedding, and drunk Chloé confides in also-drunk Kagami about her complicated relationship to Sabrina, how she's happy for her but also jealous but also knows that because of their baggage, it could never work, while Kagami also has feelings about Adrien's and Marinette's upcoming wedding. I have like half a first draft of a first chapter here and absolutely no clue where this might go next.

Wings AU - Learning to Land. So there's a wings AU concept for Miraculous that keeps coming up every now and then. A bit too angsty for me, but when I first heard it, I thought it was a fun idea to talk about aerodynamics and world building in that context, specifically where Marinette teaches sheltered Adrien how to fly.

Plagg Interview. Now we're deep in the dregs, I picked a folder at random. Alya publishes interviews with someone close to Chat Noir's thinking. That someone: Plagg, who has been bribed with cheese. Marinette is not happy, but she can't say anything because Alya can't learn she's Ladybug. Yeah, this one's been sitting in my folder for a while. As have the others. Probably a one-shot.

Stuff I'm looking forward to in each fic:

The whole thing is based around big action set pieces. Three big Akuma fights, one in each chapter, which Marinette tries to fail at in different ways, and fails to fail, so to speak. I have no idea how to write these well, but I think that can be fun. Super-unpopular opinion: Fanfiction has way too much angst and romance and not enough action, and I'm definitely part of the problem myself.

Adrien interacting with the Kwamis who imprint on him as their father should be really adorable. As should the Kwamis trying their best to get Adrien and Marinette to marry (without revealing too much (they will reveal too much)).

Writing the banter between Chloé and Kagami is fun. I want to write more of it. I can definitely see someone taking that concept and turning it into, for lack of a better word, "normal long fic"; you know, thirty chapters, misunderstanding, they take a trip for a few chapters and return, so on and so forth. I'm not doing that, I don't have the work ethic and it's not actually my favourite genre of fanfic anyway. But what else could this story be? Figuring that out is an interesting challenge.

Aerodynamics! Learning to land! How do you learn to fly in a Wings AU? What does "rich kids aren't allowed to fly" mean for the world building? I don't have a story here at all but I do like the setting.

Plagg and Alya scheming together should be gold. Plagg trying to barter with a Marinette who can't reveal she's the Guardian has also a lot of comedic potential. Plagg trying to teach both of them how much Adrien needs them could be very emotional. Just Plagg.

Also, do you have any title ideas for any of these? I think Operation Multifail is good, the rest are just literally the file names I chose when I started with these projects.

I am tagging, very much at random, @sizzleissues, @pauliestorylover, @oblivionhold, @wrw47, @precious-notes, @kyuunonana, @aidanchaser, @aanabear2803, @valtionrautatiet-official and @cosmiccarrotcake. The requirement for inclusion was "I found you in my activity view in the past three months", so if you don't know what fanfic is, or don't feel like doing this, do feel free to ignore this.

[mercurygray]

hiiiiii you know i have to ask about the bitb/rowing idea!! dick taking up rowing is something i never knew i needed until now haha

She never thought she'd see another regatta.

College felt impossibly far away from where Joan was sitting in the grandstands of the Potomac Rowing Club - the sweaters, the flags, the weight of Ben's fraternity pin on her jacket. The world had looked different, in 1939 - and while she remembered that she liked a great many things about Bennett Hilliard, she also remembered being quite sure that becoming Mrs. Hilliard while he want to law school wasn't in her cards. Still, he'd come from the right sort of family and danced well and she'd liked the way she felt in his arms. Everyone at Poughkeepsie had been talking about Helsinki, and how it was a shame no one would be able to follow up the miraculous success of the UW team at Berlin.

The river in front of her today, however, was not the Hudson, and ten years was a long time in between races - a lot of water under many, many oars. Bennett Hilliard had gone on to marry some other Goucher graduate and she had gone to war.

Someone cleared his throat - a well-dressed man in glasses and a Syracuse scarf. "Captain Warren, it's so good of you to come out today. Your husband said we'd be seeing you. Usually we have to save Go Army for the football season. I like Dickie's chances - he's got to be one of the most natural rowers I've ever seen. It's Mort Greenstan," he said, holding out a hand for her to shake.

Joan finally placed the name, and abbreviated the smile that sprang to her lips hearing him called Dickie, a name he never owned to if he could help it. "The club chairman, yes, Dick mentioned you might stop by."

"Do you mind if I join you? I brought binoculars, in case you forgot."

"Thanks, I have my own," Joan said, patting the well-worn pair that had seen her through most of Europe.(She'd noticed the woman down the row a little had a lovely pair of pearl-handles on hers, but now wasn't the time for getting self-conscious. Joan Warren didn't follow things like fashion and if she wanted to bring her army binoculars to a regatta, she was damn well going to bring her army binoculars.)

"My, those have really been through the war, haven't they?" Mort said, trying to make a joke as he made himself comfortable on the seat next to her. Joan nodded serenely.

"Three campaigns in Europe and two combat jumps," she said, and smiled even wider when Mort went silent.

Down at the dock, the competitors were just getting into their sculls, each man wearing the colors of his own home club. A few colleges, here and there, Georgetown and Harvard and even Greenstan's Syracuse colors, and the other out of towners, Hudson and Annapolis and Newport. And there was Dick in his racing singlet and shorts, arms and legs all whipcord and muscle, and she allowed herself a good long look at the man she married. He caught sight of her in the stands and smiled, waving. She touched her hand to her lips, a small personal symbol of a kiss, and watched his smile widen.

The announcer was blazing through the names of the competitors, and she caught, almost missing it as it blew by, "-Colonel Richard Winters, rowing today for Potomac in the single men's sculls."

She had been just as surprised as anyone else when she'd came home from an assignment and realized there were muscles under his suitcoat that she'd hardly noticed when she left. "I joined the rowing club," he'd explained. "They were talking about it at lunch and Ken's a member, so I started going on Saturdays. It's a lot like running - the way you can lose your mind in it."

She'd nodded and agreed and made a joke about other things he could lose his mind in that required stroking, and that had been the last they'd talked about it for several hours, at least. But he'd kept at it until it was silly calling it a hobby, and now they were here, at a regatta, in the starting heats of a crowded and talented field.

The sculls were at the starting line, the rowers crouching into position at their oars, eyes ready for the flag. Joan tightened her grip on her binoculars and waited for the starter, her feet yearning for starting blocks and racing spikes, and a sudden surge of energy filled her as the flag dropped down and the race was on, and she was right there with him in his boat, shouting for the pace.

[wishing-on-a-staranise]

Living for the hope of it all (s.h. x desi!fem!reader) [part-2]

Part 1

Mixtape

Summary: Steve Harrington had almost kissed you and you realise your feelings for your recently made friend. The boy makes you feel warm but what happens when he leaves you behind cold again and again? What happens when Steve bumps into someone he's been avoiding? Leading to you finding out about a part of him he doesn't want you to see. And worst of all, what happens when you leave Hawkins?

Word count: 12k+ (this fic is ginomonosaurus)

Warnings/tags: HoH steve; talk of 'king steve' era a lot; steve Harrington being a spaced out king; angst; lovestruck pining idiots; they're both afraid of emotional intimacy just like me frfr; both reader and Steve are 19 in this one (takes place after season 3); alcohol intake; reader has a favourite colour; kissing; mention of shitty parents :(

A/n: *slaps roof of fic* this baby fits so many song references that I've lost count. this is long and i hope my Desi girlies don't mind that the writing is....... well weird cuz I might have rushed it a little I'm sorry. also really restrained a full on angsty ending with no fluff but i think we deserve better and so does stevie.

I will be taking a hiatus for a while from here because life. But I will come back! Don't you worry! Promises series will continue then but until then i might or might not make little posts or reblogs here and there but nothing too much. But just know that when i come back, which I will, the promises series will be just jam packed with angst hehehee ;)

The next day, Steve was once again climbing your window. He would've used the door like a normal person, he really would have, but that meant high chances of coming across Ravi. And we've established why that would not be a good thing.

His heart was battering loudly in his ribcage as he scaled the wall. Okay, technically he wasnt scaling the wall but one slip could be very detrimental to the state of his bones.

He hoped by some miraculous magic you would have forgotten about all that had transpired– or had almost transpired– the night before. He tried not to think of it— your breath fanning over his lashes when he had looked at you in his half sleepy state. How you had looked like an angel looking down at him.

Something had made him feel drunk enough to say those things without a drop of alcohol in his system. It was you, most definitely.

And God, had he wish to kiss you. It seemed like the simplest and easiest thing to do; it could've been, it would've been.

But he knew, he knew what it would lead to.

Because no matter how you feel, by the end of this wedding, you leave and Steve would be alone, once again.

He tried not to think about all that as his feet finally landed on the porch.

He knocked softly at the cold glass pane, the drawn curtains obstructing his view into the room. The tips of his fingers and the apex of his nose were freezing in the chilly night air. When he got no response, he knocked again and again.

The patterned curtains got rapidly pushed aside and through the screen door he was met with your face and another unfamiliar one. Your eyes were widened as you looked at him and then at the woman beside you who seemed to be older than you.

Steve awkwardly waved towards you and the other woman, his features morphing into instant regret because a random lady saw him climbing a window like a creep.

The older girl pushed past you and flung open the door. Anger and annoyance written all over her face.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I– uh– "

"And why the fuck are you climbing into my sister's room like a creep?"

"I'm– I'm not– I'm uh….. sorry?" He stuttered awkwardly.

"You better be! Get the hell out! Or just– just you wait! I'll call everyone so you can never ever. climb. again–", she said with shaking her pointing finger vigorously in his face.

"Kajal wait– I– I know him", you finally spoke up.

"What?"

"I… know him?" You repeated hesitantly before further opening the porch door and then gesturing for him to get in, the boy however refused to budge from his place– not wanting to overstep anymore boundaries.

"How?"

"We're friends", you shrugged awkwardly.

"So, like your boyfriend or something?"

"We're not–", "Well um–", you both spoke up together.

"Because that seems to be the only reasonable reason for him to climb up a window like a creep or maybe he just is a creep–"

"I'm not a creep–"

"(y/n), you forgot to tell me?"

"We're not–", you tried repeating with wide eyes, gaze accidentally locking with Steve's– his big brown almost enchanting ones.

"What's your name anyway?"

"Uh– s- I'm sorry what?" He asked, too caught up in your pupils to pay attention to whatever the lady was asking him.

"Your name?" She repeated, frustrated.

"S– steve"

"Why not use a door to visit your girlfriend Steve?"

"Kajal, we're n–", you tried defending but were stopped when the boy beside you spoke.

"Kajal– you're the..bride?" He said, the gears in his head turning.

"Uhm, uh– yeah. Thats me" She said, lifting up her deep brown stained palms, the shiny ring a contrast against the dark intricate designs on her fingers and hands.

"So, what does your name mean?"

"Do you ask that to everyone?" She asked with squinted eyes.

"Believe me, he does", you chuckled dryly.

"You still haven't answered my question… why the window Romeo?" Kajal repeated again with squinted eyes.

"Because she ignored me"

"Ignored you? I didn't—"

"Oh, really? Why didn't you mention the event that you guys held today." Ok, so you might've forgotten to tell Steve about the mehandi function that was held. But could he really blame you? How could you remember such a small detail after what had almost happened.

"That's because you– because– " Because I kinda forgot because of a certain thing that almost happened between us. "It's a women only thing"

"That's not true", your cousin spoke up beside you with a sceptical look.

"I mean okay, yeah! It's not exclusively women's only but there are little to no guys there so I thought you'd just feel weird"

"Oh c'mon, some guys put on mehandi", Kajal scoffed, "my guy does"

"Again, stop rubbing your fiance in my face"

"Mehandi?" Steve asked, confused.

"Yeah, this", She held her palm up so the boy could see. "We also call it henna", she explained, "it's like a tattoo"

"Except not permanent or painful", you added.

"How do you put it on?" He inquired, curiosity evident in his words.

Kajal's lips turned up into a small smirk before she pulled him by his wrist and you followed them behind to your bed. "Well, this", she said picking up a crumpled up henna cone that you'd hastily thrown on your bed earlier before getting to the window, "is how you put it on", she said before handing the cone to Steve who tried to pipe some into his hand but ended up squirting a giant glob of henna onto his palm.

The boy cursed at the mess, you smiled a little before picking up the scrap piece of clothing and reaching for his hand to wipe the staining substance off. He muttered a 'thanks' into the air at your gesture while trying not to look at you too intently.

"Y'know, it's tradition to hide your partner's name somewhere in the design", Kajal explained.

"You wanna try and find it?" She questioned excitedly, holding up her palm to Steve's face. The boy hesitated a little– the sudden demeanour change from your cousin was honestly startling– before squinting his eyes, looking for the hidden name.

Your cousin couldn't help or hide her smile, her skin a little red. She'd taken every chance to flaunt the mehandi. What she and Ravi had, that was true love, you'd say.

You'd once asked her what it was like and she'd said: when you're together, you're braver, stupider, and calmer– they make you feel like you're the only two to ever exist. But it's a sneaky thing– love, it'll sneak up on you. By the time you realise, it'd be too late. A summon of love can come whenever with no warning.

When you looked at the boy beside her, you couldn't help the corner of your mouth from curling upward. Steve's gaze was fixed in Kajal's palm, eyes going over the deep maroon stained designs, looking for the name. There was a furrow in his brows, one you wished to smooth down. His tongue was slightly sticking out from between his pink lips and your mind wandered back to the night before.

After about a few minutes of squinting his eyes, Steve was able to find it. Kajal grinned at the name as if she didn't already know where the name was. She was so in love.

There was something so special about this all. It felt like two worlds colliding because Steve up until now felt like he was imaginary, like your mind had conjured him up– an imaginary friend or something to keep you company in the cold of hawkins. But now he was there and so was your older cousin-sister and it was like people from your two different lives were meeting one another.

"So, were you putting it on too?" Steve asked, a vague gesture towards your palm that had an unfinished start of mehandi that kajal had started just a minute or two before Steve knocked on your window.

"Yepp", you said looking down at the slightly smudged mehandi before wiping the paste off. "Anyone can put it on"

"Even guys?"

"Totally. If they want to", Kajal said.

"Want me to put some on?" It was more of a request than a question. "I'll make it small and unnoticeable, pleasee", you dragged out the 'please', adding furrowed brows and pleading eyes– a puppy dog expression.

"Okay, okay, fine", and how could Steve say no to you when you looked so damn cute doing it.

"You know maybe we can find a bit about your partner", Kajal spoke up, looking between you two– the ghost of a smirk on her lips.

"About my partner?" Steve asked, confused.

"It's a thing that mother's or grandmothers say– they say that the darker and deeper the shade of mehandi stain, the more loving partner you will have"

"Does it actually work?"

"It sure does for me! I think I got the most loving one"

"ok, thank you for bringing that up.. again", you rolled your eyes again.

"Might as well give it a try", Steve shrugged.

You sighed and laid on your stomach on the bed, placing Steve's hand in front of you– his palm splayed out for you to do your thing. You took a henna cone from your cousin and decided on making a small yet intricate design for the boy's palm. You took his palm in yours, his skin somehow warmer than yours despite him being out in the cold just a minute ago.

Steve was holding his breath, he knew that you could probably sense it so he tried his best to even the breathing. He failed. How could he? With your soft fingers holding his hand, sneakily stealing his warmth. He pretended that you weren't holding his hand because you were doing henna but because you were doing just that– holding his hand, just for the sake of it. The thought made his cheeks pink and hands a little trembly.

"Are you cold?"

"A– a little", he cleared his throat.

You murmured a soft 'here' before placing a fuzzy blanket on his shoulders. Steve thanked you with a shy smile and you returned it. Kajal looked between you two, she seemed to be the only one noticing the intricacies of this interaction.

You continued piping on the henna on Steve's palm. He wasn't sure what was more mesmerising– the detailed henna or you.

You with strands of hair falling from your lazily tied bun, you who was absentmindedly biting your lips as you concentrated, and you with your slightly colder hand holding his.

Steve realised that the henna could never compare to you, nothing could. You would always be more mesmerising than anything. He could just keep watching you, and stopping would never even cross his mind once.

Your gaze was on the boy's palm, never wavering. Holding the hand close to your face, forehead moulded into scrunched lines as your warm breath fanned over Steve's skin. Goosebumps arose in his skin as he realised it but you still didn't, the proximity the two of you had at that moment. It took all of him to avert his eyes from you. Eyes then looking over the mostly clean room that Kajal had helped you clean.

There was a knock at the bedroom door, both your and Steve's eyes shot up at the sound. the boy beside you stilled. Your cousin got up from her place to go towards the door.

"Kaju?" You whispered out, whipping out the nickname to convince kajal. You then gestured with your eyes towards Steve, as the boy looked between the two of you, confused. She nodded once, understanding you wordlessly– you didn't want anyone to see him.

"(Y/n)? Is Kajal in there? I have chai"

"Yes, I'm here, just wait, I'm coming", she responded to the door before turning towards you and the boy beside you, "Want tea?"

"Obviously", you whispered back.

"Was asking the white boy", the said boy nodded.

Kajal turned again and padded towards the door, making sure to barely open the door so Steve wasn't within the view range of her fiance.

"What're you guys doing in there?" Ravi asked Kajal. The man was holding a kettle and some paper cups with him.

"Uh, mehandi?" She said unsurely, "Look at mine!" She held up her pal to his face. He let out a playful huff before pouring two cups of tea.

"You're already shown me like three times… still looks amazing", he said with a small smirk.

"One more please", she said looking at the two cups in his hands.

"That's three cups", Ravi stated.

"Yeah and I love chai ok?" She said with a defensive tone.

"Yeah, trust me I know. But as your fiance", he paused,"I won't allow it. You've already had two cups"

"I'll divorce you if you separate me and my chai", she deadpanned.

"First, we're not married yet so you can't divorce me. Second, I wish you were this possessive over me. Third, You're still getting one cup."

"It's not for me, for (y/n)"

Ravi paused and finally let out a huff and caved. He poured the third cup. Kajal tried holding it but her hands were already full. "Here let me–" before she could say anything he pushed past her into the room to put the cup on the table.

You and Steve had been talking in hushed voices, all of it halted when you saw Ravi standing at the doorway.

"What in the— harrington?" Steve immediately sprung up from the bed, "What is he doing here?" He asked with a pointed finger jumping between you and Kajal.

"I invited him", you spoke up.

"Invited him?" Ravi echoed.

"Ravi.." Steve started.

"Ravi, calm down its fine– he's her boyfriend"

"No, we're not–" you and Steve both interrupted.

"I don't care what they are. I want him out of here", he said with his voice slightly higher than normal.

"You do know that he's just trying to get into your pants right?"

"Ravi-", Kajal tried to calm him down.

"Please Kajal, he's an asshole who would bully everyone just to feel better about himself." It's out of the bag now. Steve had his eyes trained on his shoes. The room was quiet and the air thick with tension.

"....what?" You finally broke the silence with all but a weak whisper. When Steve looked up at you, you were looking right back at him, he turned back to the other man in the room.

"Look, Ravi, I wanna apologise–"

"No man, I don't need your half assed apology. I need you to get out."

Steve gulped before nodding once and walked out the room.

"What the hell was that Ravi?" Kajal said.

"I'm sorry, Kajal. I just– he and his senior friends, they were— I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shouted. I'm sorry, (y/n) but you know why I moved out of here in the first place, right?"

You nodded after a moment, "I do", you whispered.

"He's an asshole (y/n), school was torture because of him and his friends "

"But what if he's changed now?" You asked.

"I'll have to see it first to believe it."

....

Steve was sitting in his car, the engine turned off. His hands were on the steering wheel, eyes unfocused, staring off into the distance.

He hated himself.

An asshole who would bully others just to feel better about himself. Yep, that was apt.

Steve thought he had changed, he thought he had proved it but he hated that the world still saw him as 'king steve'. The fake persona he had put on so people would like him, something that just wasn't ever there.

Dread filled his heart at the sight of you hearing all of that about him, however true it might've been at some point. Steve had thought maybe he could keep you out of this.

Before he knew it, his feet led him to the door of the house. He paused a beat, deciding then and there that he was going to make things right. He knocked on the door, determined to right his past wrongs.

When the door creaked open, he was met with Ravi''s face.

....

Steve knocked at your bedroom door and when you didn't audibly respond, he slowly creaked the door open. Your room seemed empty, no movement save for the flowing curtain next to the door that opened to the balcony which he had climbed onto earlier.

He ambled further towards the balcony door and that's when he caught a glance of you. You were sitting on the floor, a blanket wrapped around your frame, fingers grasping around the neck of a wine bottle while you stared at the sky.

The moonlight hit your face, gleaming. Stray hair strands flowed with the breeze before you tucked them behind your ear.

Steve quietly opened the door as if he'd ruin the pretty view in front of him if he made a single sound. The door still creaked, however you didn't look at him, only clearing your throat as an acknowledgement.

"Are you gonna drink that entire bottle all alone?"

"No, I was waiting for you, actually", you said while still not looking at him. Steve sat on the cold floor beside you, an involuntary shiver ran down his spine.

You lifted the blanket on your shoulder, an offer for the boy beside you— an indirect warm hug. Your shoulders brushed and tried your best to keep an even breathing. Steve tightly wrapped the blanket around the two of you, cocooning you both. Your gaze was still on anything but Steve.

"I apologised to Ravi", he finally broke the silence.

"I know", you went to try to open the bottle, struggling, "What did he say?"

"Says he accepts my apology but doesn't forgive me yet", Steve offered you a hand, you gladly handed him the bottle. His arm muscles flexed as he struggled a little with the cork.

You managed to steal a glance of his face before he could notice and saw his eyebrows knitted together, hair a little flatter and you wished to run your hands through the coffee coloured strands like you did the night before. You clenched your fist and quickly averted your gaze before you could do anything like that.

The bottle opened with a pop, he flashed a grin when you finally looked him in the eyes. He paused in his movements before you gave him a soft smile and took the bottle back.

You took a swig of the bottle, you hummed at the unfamiliar taste– you weren't sure if you liked it so you took another swig. You weren't a big fan of it.

You once again turned your head back to the sky. "He'll get around. All those years here and all the shit he went through, its ought to affect a person, doesn't it?", You tilted the bottle towards the boy, another offer.

"… yeah", he whispered before taking the bottle from you.

"The funny thing is when he shifted out of here, the bullying never stopped. Because to the kids there, he was too American– he could never win. And he was so, so scared. The first friend he ever made there was Kajal and they just fit. But that took him almost a year. When he first came there, he was so quiet, so scared, like he'd broken the part of his brain that allowed him to make friends."

Silence. A beat.

"I know what it does to people. These past couple years, I'm trying to right all the shit I did. Trying to be better, trying to change", Steve explained.

"That's good", you nodded curtly.

"But I know I've still got a long way to go"

"You do."

You stayed quiet for a while. The only sounds that were audible were distant cars and the chill wind rustling against the curtain by the balcony.

"What're you thinking?" Steve once again broke the quiet.

"Uh, nothing— I just— I realised that we've been friends for a week now and I don't really know anything about you. Who knows what else you're hiding from me", you joked a little trying to lighten the mood.

"It has been just a week, though"

"But I'll just be here for a few more"

"I…guess you're right", he sighed.

"So tell me something about yourself", you said.

"Um….. like what?" You let out a playful scoff, taking the halfway empty bottle from his hand and then holding a palm out for a handshake.

"Hi, I'm (y/n) (l/n)." You stated with a smile.

"Hi…I'm Steve Harrington", he returned it.

"What's your favourite colour, Steve Harrington?"

".. really?" He questioned with quizzical eyebrows.

"Just answer the question", you rolled your eyes.

"Um…. I don't think I have one."

"Decide one now"

"Oh, um– ok. I mean, blue is pretty nice, but then this red you're wearing is also good– it's also the colour of my car, but also yellow…?"

"Yellow?"

"Yeah, not fluorescent yellow, but golden yellow– like sunflowers and stuff. I have a sweatshirt that colour and I think it's my favourite one"

"It's settled then, Steve Harrington– yellow"

"What's yours?"

"Maroon, same as my sweater— my grandma made this because it's my favourite colour"

"It looks great"

"Thank you"

"Ok, my turn– who's your favourite singer?"

Talk of favourite musicians led to talk of your favourite movies (both Steve and you struggled to find a common ground in it). Talk of favourite movies led to talk of each other's past, then favourite subjects in school and then future plans.

Steve had gotten rejected from his dream college, and you were preparing to get into medical school.

You talked more and drank more and somehow all this talk led to Steve (in his drunken state) sharing confidential knowledge– that the boy had signed an NDA for.

"You know, I fought an interdimensional monster…. Multiple times actually"

"..what?" You asked with squinted eyes.

"Yeah, and there were Russians too"

".. Russians?"

"Yeah and then there was this…. flesh monster"

"Is that a euphemism?"

"No, no– it was a literal flesh monster", he explained with a chuckle, "And honestly I don't remember much– but yeah, it was pretty strange"

"Please I've seen stranger things"

"I doubt it"

"I have."

"I literally told you about a flesh monster. What else is stranger than that?"

"You expect me to believe that? Like, really? A flesh monster? You can't handle your alcohol", you chuckled. if only you knew how true it was. "Did you know that this is my first time drinking? And look at me, I'm handling it sooooo well!"

"Wow, you handle your alcohol pretty good", he snorted.

"Hopefully you're not too hungoverrr tomorrow for the Sangeet "

"Sangeet?" He echoed with a tilt of his head.

"Yeah, everyone sings songss and daances– it's great and funnnn", you said a little bit too loud, dragging out words while swaying a little.

"Am I invited?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't come, actually"

"Wouldn't want to do that", he stated while laughing a little. His eyes glanced over to his wrist watch, "Oh Jesus, the time– you need to go to bed"

"Oh c'mon it was starting to get interestinggg", you complained.

"It got plenty interesting", he chided like a parent.

"Well, I'm not moving", you whined with a pout, arms crossed dramatically over your chest.

"Oh, come on (y/n)", he said with his hands to his hips. when you showed no signs of moving, "well then I'll just have to do this". he sighed before bending down and picking you up bridal style, you giggled while wrapping your arms around his neck, a wide grin plastered on your features as he carried you to the bed.

"You're so dramatic, you know that?" Steve said with a lazy smile.

You giggled again, tightening your arms around his, slightly nuzzling your face in the junction of his neck and shoulder. "No, you're dramatic! I'm justtt… well seasoned", you mumbled into his sweater that smelled like faded cologne, mint gum and a hint of vanilla.

"You sure are", he chuckled and then carefully placed you among the pillows and fuzzy blankets. He was about to stand straight up but your hands were still tightly wrapped around his neck, restricting him to move away.

"(Y/n)..." He all but whispered into the still air of the room.

"Steve?" After a pause, you mumbled in your half asleep state, fist grasping the fabric of his sweater— refusing to let go. And as you looked into his coffee brown eyes, a silent question hung in the air– a wordless request– a plea to stay. You wanted to say it out loud, maybe you had. It was hard to remember when your mind was so hazy.

You had said it. You probably didn't even know. You definitely didn't know how to handle your alcohol.

God, did Steve want to stay. He wanted to stay and keep watching you– not in a creepy way of course. Steve could just keep watching you, he could keep laughing at your jokes, keep telling you stories and jokes– just to hear your laugh, he could make himself go insane just staring at you. All he wanted was to be near you and never leave.

All in all, he wanted to stay. But he couldn't. He knew what it meant. And stupidly so, Steve had made a self-imposed rule to be friends with you and nothing more, that is why he'd pulled away the previous night and that is why he was pulling away now.

Steve had always been a hopeless romantic, but with you, falling in love seemed like the easiest– the most natural. And he already had.

She'll leave soon.

Steve let out a breath and then unwounded your arms from around his neck, placing them on either of your side.

Now, just turn and leave….. to your empty house.

You looked up at him, big pleading yet sleepy eyes and eyebrows scrunched together in anticipation of what the boy would do.

No. Don't.

Steve bent down again, placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head. You let out a soft sigh, eyes closing at the warm breath on your temple.

"Good night (y/n)", he murmured into your hair. When he stood straight up, he was met with the slow rise and fall of your chest, indicating that you were asleep.

He smiled a little, then pulled the blanket over your frame and finally he left for his empty house.

....

Steve was wearing a baby pink kurta that actually fit him, courtesy of Ravi. You couldn't help but look at him. His sleeves were rolled up, forehead a little sweaty despite the cold climate as he carried trays of rooh-afza to the guests. Steve had offered to help around to prove himself to Ravi and the older boy had let him do so while providing him with clothes that actually fit him.

That was Ravi's olive branch to Steve.

The brown eyed boy walked over to the group you were sitting with. He held the tray between the two of you, offering you a glass. A small and shy smile grew on your face before you reached for a glass, mumbling a little 'thank you'. Steve nodded with a boyish grin and your eyes followed him as he moved to give the beverage to others there.

"Enough with the longing glances", Kajal spoke up beside you, making you jump a little as your cousin broke you out of your Steve induced trance.

"There are no longing glances"

"Sure, and I'm not getting married", she commented sarcastically, "the way you look at each other, it's the textbook definition of longing glances"

You rolled your eyes, "he doesn't look at me like that. Plus, I'm pretty sure he has a girlfriend"

"And who's that?"

"The girl he came with, he works with her", you explained curtly, "And why would he ever want to be with someone like me?"

"So are you implying that you have feelings?"

"I don't know"

"I mean, you drank with the man– that has to mean something", you glared at her, "What? i noticed you stealing sneaking away with that bottle and who else would you have drunk an entire bottle of wine with?" Kajal giggled, "Plus you also said he kissed you in your dream-- that very much means feelings"

"On my forehead", you mumbled so no one could eavesdrop.

"How scandalous", she deadpanned.

"but in the dream he also told me that he fought monsters– do you think that means something?" You asked with raised eyebrows.

"Look, all I'm saying is", she sighed, "give it a shot. You'll be leaving in a few weeks anyway. Worst case scenario, he doesn't feel the same."

"I can think of worse scenarios."

"Of Course you can– tell me when you figure it out. I'll go and show up my fiance on the fucking dance floor"

You smirked as she said so. And she did so. Kajal had always been extremely energetic. Like a small ball of electricity.

Soon she started to pull in other family members into the group, including you.

Steve watched you in the crowd with the empty tray and a glass of the beverage for himself. You looked so fucking pretty.

You had a pastel pink dress with golden yellow details on– and you looked like a princess.

Your hair was put into an intricate braid with flowers in it. Your mehandi was a deep maroon, the shade matching the small unfinished henna design on his own palm. Your eyes were twinkling like the stars, and your face, the moon–and the only word that came to mind was beautiful.

Your brows were up in delight. A wide grin was spread across your face and crinkles around your eyes. A glint of mischief in your sparkling eyes.

You beckoned him to join the crowd. But before he could do so, raindrops started falling out of nowhere. He was sure he hadn't noticed any clouds the entire day, or maybe you had distracted him. You were a good distraction afterall.

Steve asked himself why. Why did you have that effect on him? You barely knew each other, you'd met like a couple weeks ago. But he was happier than he had ever been. Even though he spent his nights in his empty house, evenings were a little lighter after talking to you.

What was it about you and this situation between you two– of teetering on the line of friends or something else. All of it had to mean something, right? Or was he just making this all up in his head?

Steve almost wanted to ask you, whisper the question into your ears, whether your sunsets were colourful as his were recently.

He wondered how you would respond. He seems to dream more during the day than at night. maybe you'd feel the same– he hoped. And you might have no clue or maybe you were completely aware, playing with his poor innocent heart.

Steve was staring at you again and you wondered if he even heard the speakers and music turning off or if he even noticed that all the other people had scrambled to seek shelter. You quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled him into shade.

"Are you okay?" You asked through a heaving chest. His eyes were trained on your face that had droplets of water rolling down your lashes, cheeks and then lips.

She'll leave soon.

He let out a "yeah" with a breath. You turned to wring your hair and dress a little. Steve's fingers carded through his dripping hair.

No. Don't.

The summon of love can come whenever, with no warning. And right at this moment, a call for Steve Harrington's name was echoing through the cold Hawkins air. Reverbing through the rainfall.

He called out your name, his hand held out– the henna design you'd made on his palm a deep brown– golden flakes swimming in his brown expecting eyes. You flashed him a quizzical look at his gesture. He silently posed like he was ball dancing with an invisible person, he swayed a couple times– eyes still asking a silent question.

You mouthed "no music", a weak excuse.

"Who needs music", Steve spoke with a wide smirk over thunder and the constant pitter-patter of raindrops. He held his hand out again.

You didn't care if anyone was looking.

you didn't realise how cold you'd been before you placed your hand into his larger and warmer one. Steve immediately pulled you into his broad chest, your breath hitched, faces just mere inches away.

Stop it, Steve. Stop.

Steve was just the right person to offer you some heat. Your face became too hot at the proximity. You felt a warmth spread across the small of your back– your lehenga giving him access directly to your skin there. Steve's palm splayed across your colder skin. Surely, you had melted as any and all stiffness disappeared from your muscles.

Stop. Before you fuck this up.

Your arms moved to wrap around the back of his neck.

Pull away, Harrington—

And before you knew it, you were moving. Steve was leading you, making you follow a beat that didn't exist. And you were just getting used to the movements when–

"I'm gonna spin you", he muttered, lips turned into a slight smirk.

"What?--"

As promised, the boy spun you, the movement dizzying. Then you were once again pulled into his chest, his hands once again on your waist, yours around his neck.

"You okay?" he asked. You nodded, quickly letting out the breath you'd been holding.

And you danced, you weren't sure how long, but you danced and through it all Steve Harrington made you feel like you were the only one that mattered. He spun you, he went as far as to dip you, pulling you back up as a fit of giggles erupted from your throat.

It all felt a little unreal. The golden rays of the sunset filtered through the rain clouds. The raindrops felt like specs of the golden sun falling down on you. And maybe if you looked up, you'd see a rainbow, but you couldn't. Not when there was Steve Harrington in front of you.

It was in that moment did you realise that Steve Harrington was someone important, someone who'll matter so much more, someone who'd be a recurring character in your life. Someone who'd steal a part of you and you'd simply let him.

At that moment you realised that Steve Harrington felt like home.

You had found home on the other side of the planet from your real one, in a boy you'd known for very little time.

Soon your movements slowed down, reduced to the two of you just swaying. Once again, a question hung in the air. an invisible line washed off by the rain. And as the two of you looked at each other, only one thing remained: anticipation for what's to come next.

Your eyes locked into Steve's, waiting with bated breath. It was like you were magnets– an invisible force pulling you two. You were sure you weren't imagining it yet you didn't shut your eyes, afraid that it'll all disappear into thin air when you do so. Deciding to only close them when it actually happens, but it never did.

"..Steve?" A raspy voice popped your bubble.

The boy in question quickly sprung away from you, carding his fingers through his wet locks. The person who'd interrupted the two of you was Steve's co-worker. Beside her was a younger boy with curly hair (who had a huge grin on his face) and behind them were a few other young teens (who had a smirk on their faces). You shifted uncomfortably on your feet, stepping a little further away from steve.

"Robin?" He quickly turned to the girl, "what happened?"

"I was gonna say that– that we should leave and drop the kids off but if you wanna stay–"

"No, no", he interrupted her, shaking his head, "it's okay", he mumbled before he started to move out of the bubble you two had been in.

"Bye", you whispered just to him but you didn't get a response or acknowledgement whether the boy had ever heard you.

The cold air started to finally seep in and no longer was there a certain brown haired boy to heat you up.

....

Steve didn't show up that night, neither the next night, or the one after it.

And as much as you'd come to know Steve Harrington in the past days is that he's clingy– enough to climb up your window if you didn't talk for one day.

So that made you believe that you had in fact done something wrong. Maybe, you'd made him uncomfortable and he hadn't leaned in, maybe your stupid mind had imagined that too, like how it prefers to imagine that the boy stared at your lips because he wants to and not because he has a hearing disability.

So, yeah, you hadn't seen Steve for three days. And you were worried. So you asked Kajal to drive you over to Family Video.

When you walked in, you weren't greeted with Steve's face instead with the same girl who'd interrupted you and the boy.

'Hi… Steve gave me these. Is he–?'

"No shift today"

"Oh, okay"

"I can help with movies too, you know– I'm actually better at them", she said while leaning on the counter, "I'm Robin by the way", she said while pointing at her name tag on her vest.

"(Y/n)"

"I know", she said as her mouth curved into a smirk– considering that Steve never shuts up about you.

"I– I'm actually here for some– American movies", you said like it was more of a question than a statement, "since I am in America"

"Well, then– then I've got some classics for you. If you'll allow me"

"Sure"

The blonde girl led you through the aisles and the different genres and different movies that she recommended while you nodded along– trying to keep up with her fast rambling. You came to know that Robin knew a lot about movies.

After some consultation and considering that lasted ten to fifteen minutes, you decided on one movie. Which Robin was now ringing up.

"Look– I know you're not actually here for the tapes– you're here for Steve", she broke the silence before clearing her throat and asking, "D'you… both have something going on?"

"Um– no, we're– you don't have to worry"

"Why would I worry?" She wondered aloud with a tilt of her head.

"Because…you seem– you're…. Together?"

"Ew. No. We're not. Under any circumstances. He's my best friend, yes. But that's like it. It entirely, completely, utterly, absolutely, fully, wholly, in every which way, in all respects platonic. With a capital P"

"Okay"

"That day….", Robin's voice trailed off, " I– I interrupted, didn't i?"

"Um, no no!" You said with a shake of your head, "He was going to pull away anyway and I shouldn't have done that. Maybe he's angry with me– i don't know"

"He's not– trust me. He just needs some sense knocked into him. Steve– he has this thing– he sometimes….. disappears?"

"Disappears?"

"Sometimes, he just doesn't talk to anyone– doesn't pick up phone calls, doesn't respond, scares the shit out of me– to be honest it's a problem and I've tried talking to him but he's just so shut off those days and then he'll show up next day absolutely normal– like he didn't just scare the living hell out of me the previous day"

".. why?"

"I..", she trailed off, " i don't know– i never got past him." You shoulders sagged, fingers fidgeting with the fraying yarn of your sweater.

"(Y/n)", she called your name out before nudging the tape you had chosen towards you."You have to return the movie by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?", You echoed with knitted eyebrows, "I thought it was next week"

"No, you watch the movie today and return it tomorrow. Please." She spoke with determinance.

"Robin", you said with another shake of your head.

"I know you want to"

"Would he want me to?"

"Why don't you come by and find out."

....

The next day you walked through the chilly autumn breeze to go to the video store.

And there he was, in all his messy brown-haired glory. The boy didn't turn at the sound of the door bell, too concentrated in arranging the tapes in an alphabetical order– surely singing the abc's under his breath to remember what comes after j.

Robin's face, who was standing next to him, lit up at seeing you. She tapped Steve's shoulder, pointing with her eyes towards you.

When your gaze met, it was like your first meeting all over again. All fast heart palpitations, hitched breaths and warm cheeks.

The way Steve's face dropped a little didn't go unnoticed by you but you were determined to….. you weren't sure what. But you were determined. Maybe to interrogate him as to why he almost kissed you when he first climbed up the window, maybe to ask him why he almost kissed you at the Sangeet, maybe you just wanted to talk to him because in all honesty, you missed him and you also needed answers as to why the boy had been ignoring you for seemingly no reason.

Robin clapped her hand against Steve's shoulder and walked over to the counter to maybe give the two of you some privacy. However much to her surprise and Steve's, you didn't walk up to the brown eyed boy, instead padded to the counter, "here to return this", you muttered.

"Um– ok!"

Steve walked up to the counter, beside you. He awkwardly cleared his throat as to let you know of his presence, as if you weren't already aware. When your eyes stayed averted, fixed on the cover of the movie tape you had rented, he finally spoke up "(Y/n)..."

"Hey, Steve", you responded curtly.

"Hey..", he cleared his throat, communicating with Robin almost telepathically. She turned and made her way to the comedy aisle after handing your tapes to Steve. He started to ring up the movie tapes, not uttering a single word. The air was thick, and the store was silent.

"Steve," you reckoned it was easier to just rip the bandaid off, "why didn't you pick up my calls?" You finally broke the silence.

"I–"

I almost did it again. Even though I'm not supposed to.

Because you scare me. You and your pretty face, you and your eyes, the way you smell, the way you do everything.

You scare me. But everytime I look into your eyes, I'm suddenly not scared. I'm suddenly brave and stupid. Stupid enough to do shit that I'll probably end up regretting.

"I'm…. Stupid"

You broke into a smile that you didn't want to let on to the boy infront of you, "you really are." You had probably let the boy off the hook too easily, but you missed him.

"I'm really sorry"

"It's fine steve. I promise", you said with a small smile.

The boy grinned before moving behind the counter, "Y'know I tried to watch one of those bollywood movies– I didn't understand anything", he said changing the subject.

"Well naturally. They aren't dubbed or subtitled."

"Yeah, I realised so", he said before his smiled dropped, "I'm really sorry, (y/n)", he started with an earnest look in his golden eyes, "I just–"

"Just what?"

Got scared.

"I just–" he hesitated again, "I wanna make it up to you"

You paused, thinking for a moment. You then took the tapes from the counter, "Are you free after work today?"

Steve nodded.

"D'you like kids steve?"

"Um.. y-yeah, love 'em"

You hummed, "come by at the house. Don't use the windows, please"

....

The sun had just set, and Steve had turned the open sign to a close sign before leaving for your home. everything had a golden hue to it, as he drove through Hawkins street. The air was quiet when he stopped at the gift shop near melvalds, picking up a bouquet as perhaps an apology– how does one apologize for almost kissing someone and ghosting the same person for days on end?

You had been very cryptic with your invitation. As he drove through the chill autumn air, he wondered why you had asked him if he "liked kids"? He reckoned he'd come to find out soon. That's one thing he'd noticed in the little time he'd come to know you– you weren't much of a talker. Like yeah, you talked but you didn't talk. You're pretty selective with words and how many you say. Perhaps it was because of the language barrier or perhaps that's just how you were.

He rang the bell, he chuckled internally when he realised that he hadn't used the bell at your house up until now because he wa too busy climbing up windows.

A few seconds later, the door swung open. And there you were, hair in a loose braid, a baggy tshirt hung on your frame and a baby bouncing on your hip.

"Hi", you smiled widely.

"Hi", he smiled back while holding up the flowers. The baby in your arms babbled at the sight of the colourful flowers. "Hello to you too", he cooed at the baby girl with a lopsided grin. The baby was practically jumping in your arms to reach out for the steel rimmed glasses that rested on Steve's nose. And that when you noticed that he was wearing glasses– you didn't even know he wore glasses as you'd never seen him with them before. That would explain why he sometimes squints when looking at things up close. It also didn't go unnoticed by you that he looked incredible with the added glasses. Lo and behold, your cheeks were warming up again.

"You're wearing glasses", you stated the obvious.

"Yeah, doctor prescribed but they feel weird to wear– I kinda look like a nerd."

You were about to tell the boy that there's nothing wrong with wearing glasses and that he should but before you could do so– A shriek rang out behind you in the house. "I'm sorry", you apologised, "I'm babysitting all the kids, all adults are out"

You shouted back into the house at what he assumed were the kids— your cousins. He wasn't sure what you shouted exactly but it sounded similar to himself when around the party.

You turned back to him, smiled and told him to get inside. The boy thanked you as he took his shoes off by the door and followed behind you through the house.

"It suits you actually", you declared. The boy scrunched his brows. "Your glasses– I mean"

Steve pushed them further up his nose before murmuring a shy "thanks".

You then led Steve to the living room, which had the TV. You then tried to watch a movie but one of your cousins interuppted you two and stole the remote saying that he wanted to watch his cartoons. You rolled your eyes and sighed before leading Steve into another room.

With nothing else to entertain you, you settled on playing some carrom and then some Ludo. The brown haired boy beside you told you that he had never played the games before, so you gave him a little crash course all the while the toddler in your lap tried to put the pieces in her mouth. Every now and then, a random and different cousin would come and make the astute observation that there was a boy with you while wiggling their brows and leaving for whatever they were doing before.

You won a game of Ludo while Steve actually managed to beat you at a game of carrom.

Steve was holding your sister now while you walked towards the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets to hopefully find a hidden snack.

"Chai?" You offered when you found nothing of your interest.

"Sure", he whispered so as to not disturb the toddler who was resting her chin on his shoulder– her eyes droopy as she was nearly pulled to sleep. You and me both, sister, you thought.

The baby in Steve's arms let out a soft barely audible yet adorable snore, a smile broke out both your faces at the sound.

"I think you should put her to bed", you whispered.

"Yes ma'am", he saluted you jokingly before turning to put the baby in her bed. You smiled to yourself at the domesticity of it all.

By the time Steve came back, you had already set up a pot and milk. You then proceeded to add the ingredients that your mother had taught you– tea leaves, ginger, black pepper, and sugar.

The boy beside you hummed while leaning against the counter, "smells amazing"

"Thank you", you said while taking the pot off the heat, "Get the cups?"

Steve looked through a couple cupboards before finding the cups, he then took two cups out and placed them on the counter in front of you. You poured the aromatic and piping hot tea through a sieve into the cups.

You both blew on the steaming tea and finally took a sip and Steve did the same. You drew your eyebrows up as a silent question of how it was.

Steve's brows flew up, eyes widened, he blinked while nodding, "oh, wow. That's good." You smiled shyly, tucking a stray hair strand behind your ears.

He took more sips and while he did so, you took your own, appreciating how he looked. He looked so pretty. You wanted to say it– out loud, to him. you actually wanted to say a lot more to him actually. How many times your heart might've said it, and how many times did you listen? If you tried, you could even find happiness in his no, you knew that much. But if he said yes, that would be something else.

You placed your cup back on the counter, still looking at him, entranced by the freckles and moles on his skin, how his hair cascaded down to his forehead. His eyes met yours– his chestnut pupils glistening with the same golden flecks, his mahogany strands still on his forehead and you wished to run your fingers through the hair. His eyebrows pulled slightly together.

There was a magnetic pull between you two– there always had been. And you just hoped that he somewhat felt the same. Your eyes closed and your nose touched his, his warm breath on your skin, warming it up. Something you realised, Steve hadn't pulled away…. Yet.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked in the faintest whisper. You looked up at him, wishing to somehow communicate all that you wished to tell him, all you felt for him. But you didn't, instead you just nodded and crashed your lips together.

You weren't sure where this courage was coming from. Recently, you'd realised, you were more restless, more impulsive, braver.

Your chest warmed up when Steve brought his one hand to your waist to hold you steady and his other to hold your cheek. His calloused fingers rubbing the soft skin. You could taste chai he had just had on his tongue. He hummed into the kiss and when you pulled away, there was a small smile on your face.

Your chests were heaving, "Are you ok–" Steve was interrupted by your lips meeting once again. He let out a sigh into the kiss and kissed you back as his hands went up to delicately hold either side of your face as yours did the same. You pulled away again.

"I am", you whispered, "Are you?"

He nodded slightly before leaning down to peck your lips again. But before he could pull away, you wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.

It was as if you were floating. Warmth spread throughout your skin as butterflies erupted in your chest. This was the warmest you'd even been, your skin buzzed as your lips moved in tandem.

Suddenly, a shriek rang in the house. You and Steve immediately pulled away, breathing heavily. The shriek morphed into a continuous cry of a baby– it was your sister, she had woken up.

You cursed under breath and then made way to the room steve had put your sister in. Steve arrived a few moments later, both your tea cups in hand, and a pink hue brushed over his cheeks. You let your sister cling to your shoulder. You swayed your body to lull her back to sleep, all the while looking at Steve.

You hummed a tune to your sister, who soon quieted down. And Steve wished he could kiss you again. Were you the dream he saw? The one he's been looking for? 'cause you felt unreal. A mystery he wanted to discover but keep it all to himself.

You put your sister in her crib and then pulled Steve to your room.

There was change in the air between the two of you but it wasn't a bad one.

You wanted to ask him whether what you did was okay. But he already had his lips on yours and that was enough of an answer.

That night, you kissed, looked at each other, held each others hand and traced the deep hued mehandi in his palm. And when it got late, you still held his hand– not wanting to let go. So he stayed. He stayed and you put oil in his hair again. Then he kissed you again.

That night as you watched the rise and fall of his chest as he lay in your bed, you wondered whether you'd even see him the next day. Whether Ravi was right of him just wanting to get into your pants. For him to just get a notch under his belt. Sure you hadn't slept together. But you had kissed and that was big for you. As you drifted off to sleep, you hoped for one thing that you found him there the next day.

You did.

The next day Steve took you out to a diner. And the day after, he gave you a tour of the town.

The day after that, he decided to host a pool party as it was a relatively warmer day. He had also invited Robin and the 'kids'-- as Robin had called them earlier.

Steve introduced you to them, told you their names and a little about them. Dustin, the curly haired boy with a wide grin who always had a cap on his head. Mike, a tall boy with raven hair. Max, the girl with fiery red hair who mostly kept to herself. And Lucas, a dark skinned boy who kept stealing glances towards Max every now and then. The group also mentioned other people who weren't there– Will and El.

The way Steve interacted with the kids, was reminiscent of how you were with your cousins. It warmed your heart when he pulled out snacks for you, Robin and the kids.

No one really jumped in the pool– the water being too cold. At one point it got warm enough that Steve and a couple of the boys took their shirts off. You then spended most of your time, just staring at Steve. And you did everything in your power to restrain yourself to trace your fingers over the moles and freckles on his back to write your name on it.

He then laid in the sun beside you, talked to you, told you stories and little snippets about the kids. Your heart would swell whenever he would laugh at his own jokes and you wished that you could play that sound on repeat.

The party ended when Steve playfully pushed you into the pool and jumped in after you. And you were laughing, no inkling of anger or annoyance because despite the cold water and air, you were warm– cocooned by Steve's arms. It all felt like home. A warm cosy home and Steve was starting to let you in. Maybe you could start to do the same.

....

You hadn't seen Steve in almost a week now. You didn't know why, you had thought everything was going great between you two. The previous night, he had taken you to lovers lake and you two had stargazed and had a picnic. He had dropped you back home. He had kissed you before leaving.

It all had seemed fine. So why had you not seen him for a week?

Kajal and your cousins kept inviting you to got out and have some fun with them but you kept cancelling those plans and kept waiting by the telephone, waiting for his call. But it never came. whenever you tried to call him, you were met with nothing but the same voicemail.

This particular night you were doing just the same, waiting.

You were jolted awake from your half asleep state. There was a knock at your window, your heart skipped a beat at the sound– knowing full well who would visit you at such an hour through the window.

You very quickly sprang out of the bed and made way to the door. When you opened the door you were met with the same amber eyes, dishevelled brown hair and boyish grin.

Before you could say anything, his lips were on yours as he let both of you in, closing the door behind him without ever disconnecting your lips. His hand gripped your waist while the other held the back of your head.

"Steve–", you mumbled against his lips, palm on his chest so as to break away from the kiss, "steve– stop"

"Baby? W–" he pulled back, a frown in his lips, eyebrows scrunched together.

"Where were you last week?" You interrogated.

"I– I–", he stuttered, "I was busy"

"Busy? With what?"

"My parents needed my help–"

"I thought you told me that they weren't going to be here for three more weeks"

"I– well, I–"

"If you were so busy then how did you manage time with Robin?"

"'cause I work with her!"

"Yet you were always not there when I came or called you"

"That's not true!"

"It's been a week, Steve! You've been ignoring me for a week! For no reason. You don't even show me your face for a week and then a week later you immediately start just kissing me?!"

"So, what, you expect me to always follow you around like a puppy?" He said a little too loudly.

"..is that what you feel about us?"

"What do you feel about us, then?" It wasn't like Steve never noticed it. You weren't much of a speaker, especially personal things.

"....i– i– we're–"

"'cause you wouldn't fucking tell me!"

"What are we? Huh? Friends who kiss? Boyfriend-girlfriend? What are we? Or do you expect me to always walk behind you like a clueless puppy who doesn't know anything till you leave?" He looked down at you, eyes a little glassy. "You'll leave and go back to your own life and I'll be here with nothing! God forbid, I actually have my own life"

"Because that's how you want it, right? You want me to follow you but the second you have to follow me suddenly I'm the bad guy!"

You couldn't stop the tears thg had sprung up in your eyes. You wanted to apologise to him and hold him for the rest of the night, instead-- "you should leave now, Steve", you tried your best to hide the quiver in your voice, but you failed.

"(Y/n)--" he started while moving towards you but you stepped back.

"Go…. Please", you refused to show him your glassy eyes. and just like that you closed the door on his face.

You held the door knob, staring at the wood grain– realising what you'd just done.

You flung the door open and it was empty.

What was this selfishness of both of you? Why was it so hard to pick a side?

Steve, the boy who was the physical manifestation of a warm day in winter, a warm patch of sunlight in a cold room. Yes, he provided you with warmth, more than anyone ever had. But then he would leave you cold, for days on end, with no warning or explanation.

You, the girl who bought colour, the girl with the shiniest eyes and the most pretty grin. Yes, you were the one who pushed to kiss him first, but that was the only time you did so. The girl who wouldn't shut up about a movie or food she likes but would never speak her mind.

Both of you could neither choose warmth nor the cold. Neither the sweet or the salt. Why was it so hard to pick a side?

....

It was soon going to be almost a week since steve had seen you. Sure, he had seen you but there had been no conversation.

You weren't necessarily angry at him, more like indifferent. You were ignoring him. And the span of wait for you to come around seemed to be longer than any callousness or rage he could suffer from you. Indifference was always worse than rage.

It was killing him– your indignation. During that one week away from you, he realised that it wasn't his love that'll kill him, nor his stupidity. Your resentment could kill him more than any death or monster ever could.

Ravi and Rohan had invited Steve for a chai. Kajal was also there. It felt a little weird without you there-- the link that connected them to him.

Steve and Ravi were… what he would consider, friends now. He reckoned the older boy had finally forgiven him.

"I don't see you and (y/n) hanging out", Rohan pointed out.

"Yeah.. uh", Steve scratched the back of his neck, "I guess we had a– an argument "

"An argument? With (y/n)?" Kajal wondered aloud.

"Are you sure we are talking about the same person?", Ravi chuckled.

"What?"

"She's a quiet person– you might've noticed. Not that much of a talker", your brother said.

"But recently she's… quieter– more than normal, at least." Kajal continued.

You were hiding your own thoughts from yourself, these days. You wondered. All this thinking, opening your heart like this; is it truly necessary to convey something by saying it out loud? If it's real and if it's meant to be then wouldn't they just know?

"Yeah, I've never seen her argue with anyone", Ravi added.

"Well we did", Steve shrugged with a shake of his head.

"You might've really fucked up then."

"I did",he said with his head hung low.

"What happened?"

"Y'know, I just said something stupid. Like I always do"

"Can I tell you something steve?" Ravi said. "(Y/n) asked me what if you had changed and I said that I'd have to see if to believe it." He stated with a reassuring hand on the younger boys shoulder. "I have seen it and I do believe it."

The corners of Steve's mouth curled up into a smile, "Thanks man. It just feels like she doesn't feel the same. She doesn't say much as you said" everyone nodded at that.

"You do know that you're her first, right?" Kajal spoke up.

"What?"

"She hasn't ever had something like this, y'know? Sure crushes, here and there but those go away in like a month. This is big for her"

"yeah, and we don't have the best parents who've ever taught us to communicate feelings", Rohan articulated.

"What do I do?" He turned to the three people with pleading eyes, "How do I fix this?"

....

Kajal was standing near the foot of your bed. She called out your name to which let out a groan to acknowledge her.

"Why aren't you ready yet?"

"I'm not coming, I told you."

"So you're just going to wallow in self pity on my bachelor's party just because of Steve?"

"I don't feel well, Kajal."

She rolled her eyes, and sighed before pulling the blanket from above your body. You whined in response and curled up into yourself. The older girl immediately pulled you up, "(Y/n) please come.. for me– I'm begging you. It's my last night as a bachelor and then I'll be under the shackles of marriage", she said theatrically.

You stared at her for a bit and then finally caved with a groan, "Okay, fine. But only because of you"

She let out a squeal before hugging you so tight that you didn't need a chiropractor to crack your spine anymore.

"Get ready?"

You nodded.

....

Your sister was dancing with her soon-to-be husband. You were nursing a glass of alcohol, of which you hadn't taken more than two sips because it reminded you of a certain boy with golden eyes. You didn't want to do it, wallow in your self pity as Kajal had put it, you'd didn't want to do it– especially today. Because it was your sister's special day, and she deserved it.

You were just thinking of finally joining your cousin when you heard your name called out. And you didn't need to turn your head to recognise who it was. Your name always sounded better when it came from his lips.

You turned around and there he was. Wearing a black kurta, sleeves rolled up, hair perfectly set, cheeks a little rosy. "Hi", he said softly.

"Hey", you couldn't help but smile a little.

"You look really pretty", he complimented before pausing for a second before continuing, "And I'm sorry for all the shit I said"

"It's okay"

"I really am. I'm stupid and say shit sometimes that I don't mean and I'm just so so sorry–"

"You're wasting your time, steve"

"...What?"

"You're wasting your time. On me. I thought about it and you were right. I won't be here forever."

"(Y/n)--"

"You're wasting your time, Steve. It won't work out"

"That's not true–"

"It is, Steve. I don't want to keep fighting– I… "I don't want to argue in my last week here, please", you said, fingers fiddling with the fabric of your lehenga. "I don't want to argue. I see enough of that with my parents", you averted your eyes from him– mumbling the last part.

Steve's eyes were fixed on you and if you looked up at him, you'd be met with the biggest puppy dog eyes. But you didn't look up, suddenly the hem of your dupatta was very interesting.

"So I…. Guess that's it for us." You said it more to maybe convince yourself. There was a finality to your words, one that Steve thought he wasn't allowed to deny– despite how much he wanted to.

"Okay", he whispered, "Can we…", he trailed off, trying to arrange his thoughts, "can we..still be friends?"

You smiled at that, the boy would never forget to make you warm. You finally looked at him, his big brown eyes with gold flecks swimming in them. And despite the circumstances and the topic of the conversation, warmth spread through your chest. Whenever you see him, it feels like home– he feels like home. Even though you were across the world from your real one. But despite all that, why did you feel scared?

"We can", you finally said.

....

This was it. This was the day.

Your cousin was finally getting married. And she looked so pretty with her beautiful lehenga, extravagant jewellery, perfect hair and a glittering wide grin that was plastered on her face.

You were supposed to do a little performance with a few of your other cousins– everyone had to do something. So, you had picked a dance, where they stood you in the corner because dancing really wasn't your forte.

But the only person Steve looked at was you. If he thought that your dress on the Sangeet was like that of a princess, this was even more grand and shiny. The dress was perfect, the hair was perfect, you were perfect.

But you two were just friends now. That's the most that you wanted.

As he watched you come off the stage, he felt a pang in his chest because the wedding was close to being done. Which meant you were close to leaving. And although you two were now just friends, it hurt.

He threw a thumbs up your way when you spared him a glance. His heart nearly melted when you mouthed a 'thank you' with a smile.

The rest of the ceremony started, Steve sat beside you but didn't say a thing through it.

When everything was said and done, and your sister was now a married woman, you hugged her. And she wept. You'd never seen her cry before, in all the years you'd known her, but the tears on the edge of falling down her cheeks were there. Before you knew it, your own eyes were stinging with unshed tears.

"Why are you crying?" Kajal asked.

"Why are you crying?" You echoed.

"I'm just very happy!" She wailed before hugging you again.

You stayed that way for a bit before the bride was pulled away from you by other relatives.

Steve watched the entire exchange. He then watched as you retreating out the hallway door. When he followed you, he was met with a sight of you standing on a porch by the lovers lake-- they had rented the place around the lake for the event.

The wooden floor creaked a little as his feet moved towards you.

"Hey, you okay?"

"I am. Just– I've known her all my life, I've grown up with her and now… I'm going to miss her, you know?" you sniffled.

"You're gonna be fine", he said, putting his hand over yours on the railing, squeezing it to give you comfort. "And you can always visit her?" Visit me, he wanted to add.

You nodded. A silence settled over both of you.

"(Y/n)?" You hummed before looking at him, "I know what you said about us but just hear me out– heart me out. I wanna make things right"

"I like you. Like really, really like you. I like you so much it scares me. And it's crazy 'cause you're so fucking adorable and pretty and beautiful and perfect and I–"

I love you.

He once again squeezed your hand but this time to get some comfort himself, "I want us to work out"

"...Me too."

"You do?"

You nodded, "I do."

"Then let's fucking do it", he said, taking both your hands in his.

"... I– I'm scared", how you said it, it broke Steve's heart.

"So am I", he stepped a little closer to you, hands still holding yours, "But you know what scares me more?"

"Letting you leave without giving it all a try."

"But how Steve?", You said with glassy eyes, "How? My parents live in the same house and they don't even communicate. How will we do that when we're going to be across the world?"

"We are not your parents, (y/n). We're not mine either", he stepped even closer, raising his right hand to brush out the hair out of your eyes and the to hold your cheek, "We are us and we're nothing like them."

"Tell me that you want this too and I'll prove it to you that we're going to work out"

"I do."

That's all it took for Steve to connect his lips to yours. You gasped in the kiss, as the boy's hand move to its place on your waist and the other on your cheek. Your skin buzzed and your heart swelled. Your hand moved up his chest and grasped the fabric of his kurta in your fist while the other hand held his cheek.

Your lips moved in tandem as Steve pulled you even close rand kissed you even deeper. A giggle erupted from your throat when he dipped you a little. You could feel him smiling into the kiss. His nose rubbed over your cheek and his over yours, warm breath spreading across the skin.

You both pulled away with heaving chests at the sound of the door opening. When you turned towards the source of the sound, you were met with your cousin sister's face. "Okay, you both are stealing my thunder– it's supposed to be my wedding", Kajal said.

....

"Everything packed up?" Steve asked put the the final bag into the car.

You nodded with a melancholy expression over your features, "I'll miss you so much."

"Me too." He tucked a strand behind your ear, and then held your face. You reached up your hand to put your palm over his, leaning into his warm touch. "but it's okay. We'll talk. Write"

You nodded once again before leaning in, and he did the same-- connecting your lips in a soft and long goodbye kiss. You wanted to live in it forever. At the very least memorize the feeling of his lips on yours. Of his thumb drawing small circles over your cheeks. Of his warmth.

You pulled away after a few seconds, looking into his big brown eyes that your were going to miss so much. Oh, how you wished to steal him and take him with you. "Oh, I almost forgot..", you started while turning to take something out of your bag and hand it over to Steve.

"What's this?" He looked with his eyebrows pulled together at the piece of paper.

"Wedding invitation…. Remember my brother and his girlfriend? Well, he managed to tell our parents a couple weeks ago and now here it is." You chuckled.

"It's not the official invitation, that'll take some time but you better come man", your brother added, appearing out of nowhere and then once again leaving.

"You better", you said it as a non threatening threat.

"I will", he said squeezing your hand.

"We're ready to leave", your brother called out again.

"Yeah I'm coming", you shouted back before turning to the boy infront of you and softly saying, "I really wish I could stay."

"It's okay" He wished he could hide you, all for himself. But he couldn't, so he let go of your hand. You turned to leave and get into the car but then run back and tackled his torso, wrapping your arms around his frame tightly, "I love you", you mumbled into his sweater. Your voice, so quiet and so small.

"I love you too", he said while rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head.

"All right", your brother's voice rang behind you and Steve loosened his grip on you, "that's enough. I'm suddenly very compelled to make you two break up", he joked.

A/n: Here it is people! I love this series so much and seeing ur responses on the previous part made my desi heart soar :))

That ending was kinda bleh :((

for the love of God tell me how you felt about this story c'mon give me validation and constructive criticism pls I'm begging

Taglist:

@555stargirl555 @luvsersi @angelulls @bitch-biblioklept @1derfulzxyn @avianawrites @lauenderhaze @cicaspair418 @pl4ybhaicarti

[ang3l-core]

Angel Numbers

I know that this might be very self sabotaging and maybe even a bad way of thinking

But I sometimes really wonder if maybe I do put myself in these situations

From a very young age I feel like in my life I really didn't have the proper guidance with some things

I've always had to find out a lot of things for myself

I feel like that's how I've always ended up getting myself in really bad situations

And I feel like over the years it's taken me a while to finally set some boundaries for myself with certain people and to stop enabling myself or others' pattern of certain toxic behaviors

And to learn to just think for myself cuz lord only knows how many times I felt like in so many circumstances like I had to be my own protector

Sometimes when things all get too much I wish I could just call out 444 to any kind of divine power out there or to see if I had any archangels who would come

So maybe they could take the job off my hands to help keep watch over me looking out for people who wanna act towards me out of any malice or with any bad intentions

Even it's for a little while so I could at least rest and ease my mind and finally be able to close my eyes for a second you know because I feel like for so long all I've been is just so hypervigilant but to tell you the truth really though it does kinda make me tired that I've had to go to sleep with one eye open for a while I think from so much distrust

I always felt like I always had to keep on looking over my shoulder

Sometimes I think about how it's almost miraculous I'm here at all, after all that I've gone through and the kind of life that I've had from dealing with shit with my debilitating health and needing so much support and never having the right people

Living in environments that you would probably consider "bad"

Never having the right cards dealt to me and trying to survive in circumstances that could've destroyed me but now that I made it out sort of alright I guess that people will call them more like adversities

But instead of feeling like I'm some sort of person who's brave and resilient at times I just feel like a failure and think about the fact that maybe that all wouldn't have happened and I wouldn't have had to experience all that if maybe I wasn't born a burden

Or to parents who maybe didn't really plan that far ahead and just might have been a little in over their heads

And sometimes I get lost in my head trying to make sense of all of it

But I guess that I'm here anyways so I should be present

And I need to be content or something

But these are some things that I still go on sometimes questioning in my head

Oh can I ask why if "some things happen sometimes" why do I still feel like at most times like still almost everything is my fault ?

And why is it so hard for me to believe when people tell me how much of a good person I am, that I am and they're not just talking about someone else or a different person ? I mean if I am at all

And why do we as people still always try to be perfect when we know as good as anybody else that life isn't perfect at all ?

Tell me was I "saved" and if that's the reason I survived everything ?

And if it's true that I was does that mean there was some more higher purpose for me or do human beings don't need any special reason to deserve to exist, we just do like everything else ?

Should I still be blaming myself for things that I don't know were or weren't avoidable ?

The things I regret that I didn't know in my life until now

Is the reason why I am asking all of these questions because I don't think that my soul was even worth saving or that my reputation can be salvaged ?

And am I just ungrateful or can I still hate that I had to go the situations that I've gone through even though I'm pretty sure that of it has turned me into the person that I am now ?

Like alot of other questions that people have about life I'm sure that most of these will go unanswered and maybe I just have to accept that that's fine

But these are some of the questions about mine that I constantly feel like I think about in my head

And I hope maybe one day I know the answers and finally understand why all of this was made so complicated

Or if there's at all any reason cuz maybe or maybe not there was supposed to be