#if you can figure out who everyone in the blurry background is dressed as then you will get so many good vibes from me

[seaweedraindraws]

Vector, Shadow, & Knuckles, do not enjoy your "aren't you a little too old to be trick-or-treating" comment.

Ignore the fact that I'm... Very late with posting this.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

i want dick grayson to be annoyingly perfect in the smallest of unimportant ways. and i want it to irritate the living hell out of everyone around him

every now and then, jason and dick will go to different chili dog carts around the city, and dick will sit and nod in agreement as jason nitpicks the food, occasionally offering his own two cents. the conversations are tense and if the topic strays from anything except food jason books it, but it’s progress, and dick’s grateful. but he doesn’t understand why jason always growls at him when he’s preparing his chili dogs, chalking it up to jason’s obsessiveness about that food in particular. dick figures he’s probably doing it wrong. until one day, jason bites out a rough question, asks him how he did that. dick’s confused, until jason points out, “you tear open the top of the ketchup packet in a perfect line every time. and you get all of the ketchup out of the packet in one smooth squeeze, and you never get any on your fingers, and i don’t understand how.”

roy was, arguably, a better archer than ollie. green arrow had been birthed from the island, from the trauma of survival. roy, however, had been practicing since he was a kid, and now that he was well into his twenties, he could safely say he was one of the best shots in the world. he could beat all his friends at darts, shoot an apple off wally’s head, and was generally pretty awesome. or, he would be awesome, if only dick fucking grayson would stop making every single shot of anything he threw in a trash can. no matter what he was throwing away, no matter the angle, no matter the wind or rain, as long as the trashcan was in eyesight, anything dick tossed would inevitably end up inside the garbage. sometimes, dick barely even glanced at the damn thing, just took note of it a threw the trash, expecting it to land in the proper place. and it always did. the worst part was, dick didn’t even seem to notice it. he wasn’t actively trying to make every shot. when asked, dick just shrugged and said “we had some pretty good knife throwers in the circus.”

tim’s memories starting out as robin were a whirlwind, a push-pull of bruce’s mistrust, then bruce’s acceptance, of dick’s fear and hesitation, then of dick’s love. he still remembered dick making the two of them hot chocolate in the kitchen after a day of training, tim’s muscles sore and entire body aching but the feeling of pride, because he was good enough to be robin, he knew he was. he hadn’t expected that to happen anytime soon again, given the way their relationship had fractured after tim had left dick’s batman, a terrified fury in his eyes. yet, he’d been proven wrong when, after a particularly rough arkham breakout, alfred asked both dick and tim to stay instead of returning to their own apartments. just because the manor brought back a feeling of warm nostalgia, however, doesn’t mean it kept the nightmares away. he came down to the kitchen and saw dick already up, moving around the stovetop. with a knowing look in his eyes, dick grabbed another mug to make tim some hot chocolate. tim was washed over with a feeling of relief, of acceptance. dick slid the mug towards him and tim took a sip, letting the rich chocolate warm him up from the inside. it was delicious. his little sigh of pleasure must have been audible, but then he remembered something he noticed. “dick. did you use alfred’s recipe for this?” and dick laughed, responded with, “nah. too much work. i just sort of tried to remember what was in hot chocolate, and eyeballed most of the ingredients. i’m glad it turned out good though. no clumps too, that’s good.”

donna didn’t care how old she got, playing in the park with dick never got old. as one of her oldest friends, the two of them could just walk around the park, in companionable silence, just letting themselves relax and enjoy the moment. so, of course, dick would break the silence and ask if she had any earbuds, because it was getting to quiet for him. donna laughed, and reached inside her pocket, fingered past the keys, and grabbed the headphones. the tangled little ball that came out made her sigh, and she pulled on an earbud to loosen it, only managing to make one of the many knots tighter. then, dick took the headphones out of her hands with a here, i got it, and with a few quick tugs, the tangled monstrosity unraveled easy as breathing. then, completely unaffected, he handed her an earbud, putting the other in his own ear. “i’m the one who’s got a lasso,” she said, ignoring dick’s snort and quip about how earbuds and a lasso are two completely different things, donna.

cass hadn’t expected to enjoy such a gentle, graceful form of athletics, but after a few lessons, it had become apparent that ballet could be far from gentle. it pushed her, made her practice and strengthen herself, and she’d fallen in love with the art quickly. however, the most frustrating part of the entire thing had little to do with actually dancing. the school bruce had helped pick out was prestigious, which meant a strict dress code, which meant her hair had to be in a bun. unfortunately, her hair never seemed to want to cooperate. after her latest attempt, falling into a mess of hair at her nape that had so many locks falling out, cass contemplated how mad the teacher would be if she showed up in a ponytail. at that moment, dick peeked into her room, having heard her frustrated noise, and asked if he could do anything to help. cass pointed to the mess of hair, not even remotely contained by the hair tie, and blew a strand out of her face. dick smiled with understanding, then came into her room, grabbing the comb on her bed and standing behind her in front of the mirror. he smoothed her hair with the comb, then pulled it this way and that, twisting and turning and wrapping until, two minutes later, a picture perfect bun sat atop her head. cass blinked with surprise. “first try,” she said, staring up at him, but he just shrugged and said, “it’s not that hard. you want me to drop you off?”

bruce could admit that he rather enjoyed undercover missions. it was an extended game with high stakes, a test of his own acting skills. with makeup changing his face, an expertly made wig, and a demeanor completely different from both brucie wayne and from batman, he swept through the crowd of greasy men, looking for a specific contact. then, he caught sight of someone specific indeed, though they weren’t his contact. eyebrows raised in a what are you doing here? gesture, he slid onto a barstool. from behind the bar, dick offered him a blinding smile, cleaning a glass. he tapped his wrist twice, a clear message. undercover, same as you. then, dick grabbed a couple bottles from underneath a shelf, flipping them in his hand and pouring with grandeur. bruce noticed he hadn’t put any alcohol in his little mixture, only making it seem as if he had. the flashy moves were entertaining, bruce could give him that. dick slid him the drink and bruce took a sip, eyebrows raising in brief surprise. “this is good. bartending?” dick put the bottles and the lemon away, unimpressed. “it’s not like it’s hard. just mixing a couple ingredients. no biggie.” bruce was fairly certain bartending was more difficult than that, but just then, his target came into view. 

steph understood some of the bats’ frustration with dick, she really could. he hadn’t exactly been a welcome and opening batman, that’s for sure. regardless, as the few masks left in gotham had to work together, and she’d gotten to know the man pretty well. and she enjoyed his company as nightwing much more than batman. she dropped onto his balcony in his bludhaven apartment, announcing her presence in that loud-subtle way. dick was nestled in a couple blankets on the couch, going over a couple files, apparently just back from patrol if the small bandage on his neck and bags under his eyes were any indication. nevertheless, he brightened when he saw her and she nodded when he asked if she wanted to spend the night. he moved some of the papers to make room for her on the couch, but she flitted into his bathroom, going through the nail polish bottles she knew he had, and grabbing a shade of red that caught her eye. she tossed him the bottle and put her fingers in his lap, talking aimlessly about a movie she watched with cass. dick seemed to relax amidst her jabbering, and he shook the bottle a couple times before opening it and focusing on her right hand. but as he started, steph paused her rambling and focused on him instead, holding her hands gently and brushing paint onto her nails. he managed to cover her entire nail in three easy strokes, smooth and glossy, not a hint of paint on her skin. the nail was practically perfect. oh god she was jealous. “got a lot of practice with this, grayson?” she asked, and laughed at dick’s mock-offended of course not!

damian wasn’t one for photography, and he could grudgingly admit drake was far better at that particular skill than he was. however, his art class had promised to cover all types of media, and had upheld that pledge. the next two weeks were dedicated to photography, and their final project for the unit had to be a small collection of photographs. animal photography, of course, was damian’s chosen subject, and the knowledge that animal photography was one of the hardest skills to master only had damian wanting to do it more. days later, however, he could admit that it was trickier than expected. how had he never noticed how active his animals were? they never sat still, and every single picture came out blurry. grayson, upon coming across him in the manor grounds, noticed his futile attempts and asked if he could help. damian acquiesced the camera to grayson, who looked through the lens, finding the right angle and background, adjusting the focus settings slightly. then, he let out a sharp whistle and snapped his fingers. in nothing short of a miracle, damian’s pets pasued to look at him, only for a second, and the shutter clicked furiously. damian flipped through the photos, a good many of them clear and wonderful. damian snapped in irritation when dick ruffled his hair and said, “now you try!” it definitely wasn’t as easy as grayson made it look.

babs didn’t really know what she was expecting when she broke up with dick. there was hurt on both ends, and distance for a while, and she had no idea how much she’d miss him. but after a couple months of working together, of remembering that underneath the romantic tangles, their friendship was strong, she’d gotten to the point of dick randomly dropping by her apartment again. the downside was, dick kept randomly dropping by her apartment again. he stole her snacks and messed up her filing system and was so irritating that barbara almost forgot how relieved she was at having one of her best friends back. fortunately, it did come with benefits, because when he was bored, he did some of her chores for her. pausing in the doorway, she smiled at the sight of dick folding her clothes and putting them away. the gesture was platonic now, but no less appreciated. she pushed her wheelchair forward, and in greeting, dick told her how much he wanted to steal all her patterned socks. babs reminded him they wouldn’t fit, and laughed at his pout. dick grabbed one sock off the top of the laundry basket, then dug his hand into the pile of clothes randomly, coming up with the second sock in an instant. folding them together, he repeated the process for each pair. “that...that was fast. you got all of them?” babs asked in confusion. “yes? why, did you expect some to be missing?” was dick’s reply as he shook the wrinkles out of a sweater.

wally was never surprised. he knew dick better than probably most people in the world. he’d gone from frustrated and jealous of dick’s random talents, to admiring and appreciative, to just accepting them as a fact of life. dick’s phone never cracked if he accidentally he dropped it. dick never buttoned up shirts wrong, aligning each button with the right hole perfectly on the first try. dick could plug in usb ports the right way. dick always remembered which light switch was for which room, no matter whose house they were at. dick could pop a cd out of its case without ever smudging the disk, holding it by the rim perfectly. and dick always seemed to know when wally needed a day off, to just visit their old haunts, grab some ice cream, and spend the day talking away on a rooftop. that was just something his best friend could do. and wally would never tell dick, but underneath his fake irritation at it, but he loved him for it.

tag list:  @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @astroherogirl @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg

[honeydew-mel0n]

Can I request Vergil chaperoning his daughter at her prom dance? Thank you! 🙏🏼

So, remember what I said about writing a semi-soft Dadgil? I got really excited to write Dadgil (that isn't the fucking dadV sequel) and this concept is so funny to me but,,,,,, this was a little difficult. I don't actually know anything about dads, or prom.

But!!!!! Thanks for the request!

Dad!Vergil × Daughter! Reader (chaperoneing her junior/senior prom)

Last Dance of the Night

“Are you sure you can’t do it?”

You whisper into the mouthpiece of the phone, shooting glances up the stairs, being able to catch a glimpse of your father straightening himself up in the hallway mirror. “No can do, I know it’s really important, and I'd love to be there but- Hey!” 

You jolt back at the sound of your brother's voice through the phone, once again looking up the stairs to check if he heard the loud squabbling coming through the phone. He’s frozen in place, trying to assess something. Before pushing back his hair.

“Anyway, look Bug, I can't. I'm busy.” A sigh leaves your lips as your shoulders slump. “You’re useless.” “HEY-” 

You hang up, quickly dialing another number on the rotary. You listen to it dial, half expecting him not to pick up, but it clicks and there's a hefty sigh from the other end. “Devil May Cry.” “Hey, Uncle Dante. I, uh, need your help.” “What happened?”

You tap your foot on the carpet. “Sooooo, prom being tonight, I checked the list of parent chaperones who signed up. And…. Dad's name was there.” There’s silence on the other end for a good minute before a roar of laughter. “Please, you could show up for him, and don’t even have to stay. Sign in, then sneak out the back door. They’ll see that you’ve already signed in and won’t let him in.” 

As the laughter continues on and your hope dies, why did you ever think you could rely on your family? The hair on the back of your neck shoots straight up. Oh no. You slam the phone down and turn on your heel. Trying your best to pull a smile that didn’t show how scared you are. 

“Hey dad.” His face is blank, there’s no sign of anger. “It’s getting late, shouldn’t you be on your way already?” You nod, swallowing hard and trying to find an excuse.

“Just made a quick call to Nero. Big day, he’s really excited for me. I really should get going though…” He just nods, wrapping a lace shawl around your shoulders. You drop the nervous smile and a real one forms, his thumb rubbing the fabric gently. “You look lovely.”

“Thanks Daddy.” You hop onto your tiptoes, and he leans down just slightly. You press a kiss to his cheek. 

You slip out the front door waving a goodbye, knowing full well he was watching you from the window. It didn’t take much power walking to escape his view before ducking into your date's porch. Quickly checking to see if you were followed before you decided to knock. 

Their mom opens the door, a delighted smile splits her face. “Oh my gosh Honey! You look so pretty!” She welcomes you in, taking you to their living room. Quickly hurring off to get her child. Looking over their happy family photos you smile melancholy. 

There are loud footsteps, and your date stops abruptly, jaws going slack. “Wow…”

-

You both wave goodbye to their mom as you walk to the overcrowded gym. The staff stand in a row on each side of the door, screaming and cheering as all of the students make their ways inside. 

You cringe as teachers in their 40’s fake enthusiasm, their only real joy being that most of you will soon either be gone for the summer and the others leaving at the end of the year and be some college professor's problem. Your eyes scan the room before ducking behind a wave of people. “*Babe, what the hell?” “My dad.” 

Their eyes widen as they look through the crowd, finding him quickly before returning their gaze to you. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” your face warms. “I was caught up in the moment!” You two try to walk casually to a table and sit down.

God the decor was bad.

If you’ve ever seen the 70’s version of Carrie, where the prom decor was aggressively cheap and 70’s… That, but worse. The gym still smells like last week's basketball game, and no plug in air freshener is going to erase that. 

Kinda smells like your uncle's shop. 

You both keep your heads down. “What did you tell him?” “Last week I told him that I didn’t have a date, and that I was going with a group of friends because we all couldn’t get dates.” They narrow their eyes. “Babe, why?”

“He pretends he doesn’t but… he worries a whole lot about me. I knew he’d stalk you if I told him the truth. But hey, you aren't a boy, so maybe he won’t react badly.” Their eyes widen and you shiver, it’s that icy stare you know all too well. They swallow, before straightening their collar. “What about our plan to sneak out?” 

You look around at the four different doors. “We’ll find a way, give it an hour.” 

“I figured out a way to get out, but I do want to dance with you first. I just need to use the bathroom first, wait for me, okay?” you nod and watch as they walk past a crowd of people and seemingly disappear.  

The lights dim and time passes, things eventually become more lax. You wanted to move around to try and get a escape path (and to experience what you can of prom), but your date refuses to get up at all, especially to dance and make something of the time you have.

They clear their throat and start to get up, leaning down and whispering. 

And you wait. 

And wait, and wait. Maybe, maybe they did disappear. Looking over the groups and couples dancing, and those who were still sitting like you, they were nowhere. Not in here at least. You sigh, sinking down in the uncomfortable metal chair. 

More time passes, and nothing. You start to wish you’d just gone with some friends, maybe then you wouldn’t have gotten ditched and actually had a good time. 

The clock ticks on, and it's becoming more obvious that the staff are getting ready to kick everyone out. The D.J. has been playing straight slow songs for the past 20 minutes, and you’ve had to watch couples and friends slow dance together and two people get crowned king and queen.

You tried your best to seem happy, like you were enjoying yourself. 

Pulling out your phone you see a notification from your dates account. They posted 7 minutes ago. It’s a video of them and their friends fucking around outside of a conveniance store in prom suits and dresses. You feel yourself tear up, slouching lower in the chair. The lights and people become blurry, c’mon, you don’t want to cry. 

A hand comes to rest on your shoulder, you look over your shoulder to see your father looking down at you. “Y/n.” “Hey Dad.” You say, no longer having anything to hide. Not that you can hide anything from him for long. 

He takes the seat your date had, lips pressed shut in a permanent scowl, just like normal. It didn’t scare you, that's just him. “It seems your companion abandoned you.” You scoff, pulling up your shawl. “Yeah…” “You’re upset.” “That obvious?” 

You laugh at your own joke. If he’d been your brother, he would’ve laughed too. But he sits there awkwardly, not knowing how to comfort you in this situation. “They couldn’t even give me one dance before they left me either.”

The current song playing stops and you can hear a few people whine at the idea that the next would be the last of the night. 

A hand is extended to you, your fathers, he stands waiting. It's not an option, it's a demand. You take it, getting up and following him.

The song starts and he starts to dance, but you trip over yourself. Stepping on his feet several times. 

“Sorry… I forgot how to dance.”

Both remembering too-small tiaras being shoved in his hair, little feet with sparkly plastic princess slippers on his, and a random song playing in the background. Trying desperately to teach you how to dance after you’d begged him to. 

Forgot.

You watch him smile, just slightly. The darkness giving him the anonymity to do so.

He never did, but you had so much fun. 

“That's fine, just do what you used to.” 

You step onto his feet, making you move the same as him. A question burns under your skin before you chew your lip. “You’re not mad at me?” “For?” “Lying about who I went with.” There’s a low growl like sigh. “We will deal with that later.” 

You nod, not worrying about it now. Resting your head on his chest, closing your eyes, tears streaming down your face now... All of what happened melts away, the safety of your father makes it go away. He always does. 

[puckinghell]

The Plus One Pact | William Nylander | Part 4

Summary: Your ex is getting married, and you don’t have a date, which means the unavoidable “why don’t you have a boyfriend” question is about to haunt you for the rest of eternity. But then there’s Will, who could be the answer to all your problems. A simple business pact, no feelings involved: that won’t be hard for you, because you really don’t like him anyways. Except pacts were made to be broken… or something. Right?

Note: This is part 4. Click here for part 1 | part 2 | part 3

--

You don’t know how it happens.

Okay, you kinda do.

One night, you get a text from Will that’s just a screenshot of a very strongly worded email to a certain balloon company, and then three crying-from-laughter emojis.

Still not funny!!! you text back, and you expect not to hear from Will again until the wedding.

You’re wrong. When he texts you again the next day, asking how you work was, you figure it would be rude not to answer, and then when the phone rings late one night, you worry something is wrong, so you answer that, too.

“What was your day like?” Will’s voice is quiet and timid when he asks, and you take it you’re not gonna talk about that awful game they just had, so you talk to him about your day for an hour until his voice is lighter and he’s laughing again.

It starts happening more and more, and before you really realize it, it’s weird when you haven’t heard from Willy in a day.

To be truthful, it turns out Zach was right; as he usually is, which you would rather die than tell him. 

But Will is different when it’s just you two, and your favorite moments with him are when he calls after games and his voice is laced with sleep and you can nearly hear the smile through his voice when he asks you about your day. Everything about him is muted, then, but it feels real, and important, somehow.

You even learn to appreciate how annoyingly chipper he is, because sometimes you really do need someone to just laugh at your bad mood until it goes away.

You also learn that, like you expected on the plane to Calgary, Will keeps his head high but it’s mostly a facade. Comments get to him, especially when they’re about his hockey – “that’s the only thing I was supposed to be good at” he jokes one time, and you wanna hit him over the head with his hockey stick until he understands that that’s not true – and he takes everything personal, although he tries not to show it.

Everything you didn’t like about him, you find out, is something you either got wrong about him or learned to appreciate.

And there’s so much more to like about him, too.

One night, after a really bad day at work, you have a fight with your sister about Noah’s stupid wedding. 

“Why are you so against coming?” your sister says, a little too aggressive. “Surely you aren’t still in love with him? He’s happy with Betty, Y/N.” 

Of course you’re not still in love with Noah, but it hurts that she can’t just accept that you don’t wanna go. That she can’t take your side in this, even if she doesn’t know the full story. She should trust that you’re not being difficult for no reason.

And you can’t help yourself; it’s late and you know Will just got done with his game, and he’s all the way in Carolina but you call him anyway.

He answers almost immediately.

“Y/N?” he asks, and he sounds surprised. It’s to be expected, because he’s almost always the one calling you, but it stings a little, nonetheless.

“Uhm, hi.” You pause. “Is it… okay that I called?”

“Of course. Always.” Will sounds truthful, so you decide to take his word for it.There’s no more extra space in your brain to worry about that, as well. 

“Congrats on the game.”

“Thanks.” You hear Willy’s grin. “I’ve told Zachy we’re both very proud of him for that OT winner.” There’s an indignant huff next to him that sounds a lot like Zach and you figure they’re still on the bus, where Willy usually sits with Kappy or Zach.

It’s quiet, then Willy’s voice, treading very carefully: “Is something wrong? You don’t sound too happy.” There’s some stumbling and you can almost see how Willy must be elbowing Zach away from the phone, because Zach is basically an overprotective dad whenever he hears anyone isn’t doing well.

But Willy… Willy isn’t like that, but he sounds worried anyway, and he sounds gentle like he’s trying to calm you down, and suddenly you’re telling him everything: about the day you’ve had and your job that sucks and that you’re worried about the wedding and why can’t your family just trust you, for once, and what if this all isn’t worth it just to keep your family happy?

When you’re done, Willy’s voice is soothing. The background noise has disappeared. Maybe the bus has stopped.

“It’s worth it,” is what he says. “You know it’s worth it.”

You sigh. It’s annoying still that he’s usually right.

“I just don’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“And tonight you don’t have to.” There’s a sudden noise and then Will cursing. “Fuck, sorry, hold on, I’m trying to open this stupid hotel door…” More crashing and banging, and then Willy’s voice reappears. “Tonight you don’t have to deal with anything, okay? We can FaceTime and watch a movie together.”

And that… That actually sounds really nice, and like it doesn’t require any brain power which is good because you have none of that left anyway.

“Hey, what’s your favorite take out food?”

It’s such a random question, out of the blue, and when you tell him that, the blurry FaceTime screen can’t hide his eye roll.

“It’s just something friends are supposed to know about each other, now tell me.”

“Sushi when I’m feeling fancy,” you say, “or pizza when I need comfort food.”

You can’t even pretend to be that surprised when a massive pizza shows up at your door 30 minutes later.

You hate that it nearly brings tears to your eyes, but after the day you’ve had…

“Thank you, Willy,” you mumble, and there’s something soft to his look when he smiles at you.

“What are friends for?” he asks, and you realize you don’t even mind that he’s declared himself your friend, now.

A few weeks ago, you would’ve disputed it. But now, you find yourself kinda wishing it could be more.

--

What are friends for is apparently your motto now, and it’s all a little strange as you get into the car, your fanciest, most beautiful dress and highest heels on.

“You look great,” Zach says. He’s wearing a suit and his hair is slicked back, the way it always is when he’s really trying.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you reply, a little grumpily. “I hate team events.”

“I never did understand why.” Zach starts the car and backs out of your driveway. You’ve been told Alannah is going to the venue straight from work, and Willy had an appointment and couldn’t come get you, which is why you’re in the car with Zach, now.

“Because I don’t fit in there.” It’s the honest answer, but it’s obviously not the whole story. The whole story is that those events are filled with beautiful women, and you never feel quite up to par; like you snuck into a place you’re not welcome, not supposed to be welcome, either. But Zach wouldn’t get that. Willy wouldn’t get that either.

And you just couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough, not when he said: “But Y/N, it’s for charity.”

It would not matter to the charity, of course, if you didn’t come. But Willy had looked so hopeful, and then he’d pulled out the final card: “It’s gonna be way more fun with you there by my side.”

And now you’re wearing a dress appropriate for a charity gala, which means you’ve never felt more uncomfortable in anything in your life, and your feet already hurt from your heels, and this was such a bad idea, God.

“You know,” Zach says, and his tone tells you this conversation is going somewhere you don’t want it to go. “Willy doesn’t like these events either. It means a lot to him that you’re coming for support.”

You nearly roll your eyes. “Willy charmed the socks off every person at my boss’ wedding, Zachy. He really doesn’t need my support for these kinda things.”

Zach’s face stays stoic. “Yeah, but nobody at that wedding knew him.”

“So?” you frown. “That should only be a disadvantage, considering he’s William Nylander.”

Zach laughs, then. “Still haven’t figured it out, then? I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you were good at reading people.”

“Hey!” you react, offended. You are good at reading people. It’s one of the things you pride yourself on. “If you know it all so well, why don’t you just tell me?”

Zach sighs. “Willy doesn’t like these events anymore because he is William Nylander, as you say it, and that’s not really a popular name in Leafs territory, right now.”

And, oh.

That.

“I did realize he cares a lot more about what people think than I thought he did.” You pause. “More than he should, probably.”

“Definitely.” Zach’s face has that protective big brother vibe about it, again. You used to not understand, why he always looked like that when people were talking shit about Willy.

You get it, now.

“There’s always plenty more people telling him he’s great, than there are people sending him snarky looks,” Zach continues. “But he never really believes any compliments he gets, so that doesn’t help.”

Suddenly, you realize something.

You’ve never really… complimented Willy? Even when you realized he cared more than he let on, you still just assumed he knew how great he was. Sometimes, he kinda fishes for something – “Did you see my goal?” “How about my cooking abilities?” “I know how to pick a good movie, right?” – but you’d always laughed and chirped him for it.

“If your head gets any bigger, it’ll explode.”

And Willy is always complimenting you; he tells you you look great all the time, even when you decidedly dont’t, but he clearly remembered what you told him about Noah because that’s never the only thing he compliments you about.

He tells you how smart you are, “I like how good you are with animals”, how any food you make is the best thing he’s ever eaten, if only everyone was as lovely as you.

You feel guilty, now. If Willy is your friend, you’ve really not been doing such a good job at being his friend, too.

You’re fixing that tonight, you decide right then and there.

“I’ll make him believe it,” you tell Zach, and it comes out sounding vaguely threatening.

Zach laughs. “Thought you didn’t like him?”

“Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought he was,” you admit, and you don’t tell Zach how much you really, really do like Willy, but you think Zach kinda knows anyway. 

Will meets you at the door, where Alannah is also waiting for Zach. He smiles at you, eyes soft.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” He quickly presses his lips to your temple, which is a new development that you don’t really know how to handle.

But Will is a tactile guy, anyway, so you’re sure you shouldn’t read too much into it.

You see Zach’s raised eyebrow, and suddenly remember – fine, maybe you’d forgotten your objective for a second because Will looks really hot in that suit, but you’re back on track now.

“You look beautiful too, Will.”

Willy’s eyes widen and a flush creeps up on his cheek, but before he can answer you grab his hand and pull him into the building.

It’s a fancy, really expensive hotel, where the gala is being held. It’s filled to the brim with people, a few of which you recognize, most of which you don’t.

“That chandelier must be worth more than our entire house,” Alannah mutters, and you’re glad to see it’s affecting her too, although she’s been to these events many times.

Zach laughs. “With a puppy in the house, aren’t you glad we don’t have any furniture that costs more than our mortgage?”

“Do you want a drink?” Will’s lips are close enough to your ear to hear him over the noise of the crowd and the music in the background, and also close enough to feel his hot breath against your neck. It takes everything in you not to shiver.

Maybe you do need a drink. Or ten.

Willy and Zach go to get the drinks and Alannah leads you to where some of the other WAGs are. Steph is the only one you know and she hugs you as soon as she sees you coming, then introduces you to the rest.

“So, you’re with Will, huh?” she asks, eyebrows waggling.

You were expecting that question, but maybe not so soon into the evening.

“Uhm,” you cough, “not really. Just his plus one for tonight.”

“Sure,” Steph says, and she looks like she doesn’t believe you at all.News always travels fast in the WAGs group, and Alannah is looking a little guilty.

You find you don’t mind so much, that they think that you’re together. Although you really don’t wanna think about why you don’t mind. 

When Willy finds you, Kappy and his girlfriend are with him, and the four of you make your rounds throughout the room, talking to any sponsor that seems interested in a conversation. Mostly you just stand there while Willy talks, his hand on your back as if he’s scared you’re gonna run off.

“I always thought this would be a lot of work,” you mumble in Willy’s ear, when you’re between conversation partners. “But I really only have to stand here and look pretty.”

Willy grins. “Seems like it comes natural to you.”

Right. You kinda forgot about the compliments again.

You shrug, lean a little closer until you’re basically pressed into his side. It feels a little too right, maybe, how quickly Will’s arm wraps around your waist.

“You’re really good at talking to these people.” You’re talking pretty loudly, but you’re pretty sure Will is the only one that can hear you over the noise. “The second you open your mouth, people are so charmed by you. I think you could make anyone love you.”

Willy’s eyes flash to the floor, and they stay fixed there as he mumbles something that sounds a lot like another “uhm”.

His cheeks are flushed red, and you’re saved from having to deal with that as Auston appears, eyes wild and jaw tense.

“I’m being stalked,” he hisses. “This old white dude literally won’t leave me alone even for a second. He’s been following me around for an hour. Help.”

Willy bursts into giggles, which is probably not very helpful, and the betrayal on Auston’s face is enough to make you feel bad for him.

“Come on,” you say, grabbing his arm, “let’s go hide behind the bar.”

--

It’s easier than you thought it would be, to get through the evening. In fact, when Will asks you if you’re ready to go, you hadn’t even noticed it had become so late.

You say goodbye to the few people you know and gratefully accept Willy’s offer to drive you home.

The car ride is silent. It’s not awkward, but the air is heavy with something, and you curse yourself for all those times you wished Willy would just shut up, because now he has and you hate every second of it.

Did your compliments freak him out? Did he regret asking you to come?

“So,” Will finally says, as he stops in front of a traffic light. He’s not looking at you, keeping his gaze firmly on the road ahead of him. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Zach told me you don’t like these events,” you try, carefully. You’ve never had to pull something out of Will, force him to open up; he’s always just kinda done it, from the very moment you met him, shared parts of himself with you that you never had to search for.

For you, who’s never learned how to not keep something hidden, that was maybe the thing that unnerved you about him the most.

“I like doing things for charity,” Will answers, and you can tell he’s picking his words carefully. “But I don’t like people looking at me as if I’m some kinda disappointment who doesn’t belong there.”

“Have they ever said anything?”

“No.” Will smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and there’s a hint of sadness laced in it. “Not to my face, anyway. But I’m not stupid, you know.”

No, he’s not stupid. For all the conflicting thoughts you’ve had about him, you never thought he was stupid.

And you never thought he was a bad contract, either. It seems imperative, suddenly, that he knows that.

“Willy,” you say softly, and although his eyes are still on the road, you know he’s paying attention. “You can’t seriously believe that you’re anything but an amazing hockey player. You’re worth that contract and you’re worth the effort Dubas put into keeping you here. You’re so smart, and I know people don’t always see it but you work so hard, and Matts was so happy when you got back on his line because he knew you would be magic together.”

Will’s cheeks are red but this time, he’s not mumbling when he says: “I know I haven’t been playing as well as I can.”

“Stop,” you tell him, softly but forcefully. “Stop deflecting, stop dodging. Just take the compliment and believe me when I say you’re great at what you do.”

“That’s very nice of you,” he says, his voice a bit shaky, and that’s a different kind of deflecting but it’s still deflecting, and it’s hurting your heart.

“William Nylander,” you scold, and then you do what you’ve been wanting to do this entire evening and let yourself reach out and put a hand on his knee. “Just accept the compliment.”

Willy carefully reaches down to grab your hand, intertwines your fingers together as he lets both your hands rest on his thigh. He’s holding the steering wheel with one hand, but he’s driving pretty slowly and the roads are deserted, so you’re not too worried.

You’re more worried about the fact that he just doesn’t believe you.

“You’re a great hockey player,” you repeat, stubbornly. “And a great person.”

Finally Willy allows himself to smile, this small, rueful thing that sticks somewhere deep inside your chest, folds up next to your heart like it’s gonna stay there forever.

“Thank you,” he says, and maybe he still doesn’t really believe it but this is as far as you’re gonna get tonight and maybe that’s okay.

You’ve got time.

The car has reached your flat and Will parks it in your driveway. It’s quiet, and he hasn’t let go of your hand, and you kinda don’t want him to.

The night is over, probably.

But there’s still one thing you need to tell him, though. “It doesn’t matter, Will,” you say softly. “What those people think. It doesn’t matter.”

“No,” Willy agrees, and for the first time you can tell he believes it. “But it matters what you think.”

He finally turns to look at you and there’s so many emotions swirling in the deep blue of his eyes, but you can’t really put your finger on any of them. All you know is your heart is beating in your throat, and you really want to kiss him.

But Willy still looks a little sad, and you have a feeling there’s something he’s not saying.

“I told you I think you’re great,“ you tell him, and it’s the truth.

“But you didn’t, before.” Will hesitates. “I told you I’m not stupid. I know when people find me annoying.” He shrugs. “I get it. I know I can be too much.”

And God, there’s so much hurt in that, so much pain and yet understanding, and you can tell he truly believes that, and you would do anything to take that away from him.

Anything.

So.

“I didn’t like you,” you admit, but when Will goes to pull back his hand, you simply hold on tighter. “I was wrong. I didn’t know you, and I was wrong. Now I know you. And I like you.” You inhale, pause. “I like you so much I don’t really know what to do with myself, sometimes.”

It’s quiet. You can nearly see the wheels turning in Willy’s head as he searches your face for something; something to tell him you’re not being truthful, maybe, that it doesn’t mean what he thinks it does.

If that’s what he’s looking for, he won’t find it. 

Then he drops your hand, jumps out of the car and slams the door.

Disappointment and hurt washes over you; you knew you had to try, had to put your heart out there, but it hurts that it’s smashed into pieces like that. Clearly you read it wrong, clearly you still don’t know how to tell what Willy’s feeling.

Except then your door opens, and Willy is holding out his hand.

“Come on,” he says, and his voice sounds… fond? You don’t know exactly what to think about it, but he doesn’t sound angry, or upset.

Against better judgement, you grab his hand and get out of the car.

“I have to tell you something,” Will says. And, there’s no way that he’s doing what you think he’s doing, but his hands are suddenly traveling up, one reaching to cup your cheek, the other settling on your waist. His eyes are staring into yours intently, and they’re twinkling but it’s not the same mischievous twinkle you’re used to seeing.

“I really like you, too,” Willy says, and he leans in and presses his lips against yours.

For a split second, you stand there, not quite knowing what just happened, but then his hand tightens on your hip and you realize that this is real, this is happening, and Will’s kissing you.

So you kiss back. You let your body lean heavy against the car, place your hands on his biceps and pull him closer, until his chest is flush against yours. The kiss deepens, and you swear you can feel your heartbeat synching up with his.

The night is dark, and quiet, and it rains a little, but you feel none of it.

All you feel is Will, surrounding you, and everything is beautiful and exactly the way it’s supposed to be.

[morceid]

Beating The Dead Swan

Chapter 4: hold on for your life

read on ao3

<- chapter three

Summary: The team makes progress on the case and Spencer makes progress with Derek.

Word Count: 1.8k

Category: angst, some fluff

Content Warnings: drug mention, general criminal minds stuff

A/N: so sorry this took so long to finish writing! i just had some other things i needed to do for school stuff before i did this but enjoy!!

The next day Derek walked into the BAU, ready to give Hotch a rundown of how they were handling the case, but something caught his eye.

Through the windows of the office Spencer now occupied, there was an art easel propped up next to the couch. A sheet covered in various paints and colors laid on the floor as Spencer brushed a sky of purple and blue on the canvas.

“Whatcha doin’ there, kid?”

“Oh, oh hi Agent Morgan, I hope this is okay, I just wanted to paint.” Spencer stammered.

“It’s fine, it looks good too. How long have you been painting?”

“I’m fairly certain I was 8, could’ve been 9 though, my dad left around then and it’s all kind of blurry.”

A thick silence surrounded the two, the only sound being the brush against the cloth canvas.

“Um, I’m sorry. Anyways, what are you going to be doing today?” Spencer swiped his finger through the purple color he’d mixed and dabbed it across the wet paint.

“Well, Garcia is looking through the bank records of all the victims. If there’s anything suspicious then she’ll look into it and we might even take the case as a team, but for now it’s just me and her. I’m going to talk to my boss right now, I’ll talk to you later though.” Derek turned towards the doorway but Spencer stopped him.

“Morgan, uh, do you think, do you think you’ll catch whoever did this to Camille?”

“I sure hope we do. You deserve some closure. We all do.”

“Yeah, yeah just sometimes, it feels, I don’t know, captivating in all the wrong ways.”

“I know. But it gets better, I promise you. See you in a bit.” Derek left the office and headed towards the bullpen.

Spencer exhaled and studied the paint on his hand. The cold feeling, the intense smell, and the sound as he slapped it across the canvas.

“Hey, any updates?” Hotch asked Derek as he opened the door to his office.

“Nah, not really. All the people we’ve interviewed are completely innocent. Penelope’s checking men with sexual offenses that our victims could’ve interacted with but I’m not sure we’re gonna find anything.”

“Alright, you should probably check on that now, I’ll see you later if there are any updates.”

“See ya, boss.” Derek said as he walked back down the steps and across the hall to Penelope’s office.

“Hello my soulmate and love of my life Derek Morgan, how can I help you today?” Penelope excitedly exclaimed as Derek walked into her office.

“Hey baby girl, get anything from your search?”

“Unfortunately, no. None of the victims had close family that had both a connection to the company or a sexual offense, in fact there are no sex offenders in the area that have any connection to the company at all. They really do triple check everyone’s background.”

“There has got to be some connection somewhere. Did the M.E. do another tox screen?” Derek asked.

“Yep, and it seems that all of the victims had massive doses of ketamine in their systems.”

“Camille had ketamine in her blood?” Spencer walked into the office and started the two.

“Oh! Spencer, you can’t be in here, not right now.” Derek rushed to take him out of the room.

“Wh- why can’t I? Camille was my friend, I deserve to know about her. Did she have drugs in her body?”

“Spencer, you can’t be interrupting an investigation. I’m sorry, but you need to go back to your office.”

Spencer stops trying to push against Derek and exhales, trying to catch his breath. They walked back towards the office they now called home while squeezing his hands in intervals of three, a trick to calm himself down Camille had taught him. He fell onto the couch and fell asleep quickly, deciding not to fight the tired feeling his eyes gave him.

They woke up what felt like around thirty minutes later, but the digital clock he set on the table next to the brown leather couch read 11:43. He got up and grabbed flannel pants and a sweater from his bag of clothes and headed to the bathroom to change into the pajamas. They grabbed his chess set from his office and went into the breakroom. Their stomach growled and they recalled that they went to Penelope’s office earlier to ask if he could have the rest of the soup. He looked around the bullpen, wondering if they’d mind if he ate something from the fridge.

Agent Rossi walked out of his office and took notice of Spencer.

“Hey, what are you doing up? The only person here this late is generally that guy.” Rossi pointed towards Agent Hotchner’s office. The microwave on the counter now displayed 12:06.

“I-I took an unexpectedly long nap and uh, I didn’t eat lunch or dinner to- well technically yesterday now, uh, c-could I have something from the fridge?” Spencer stammered.

“Of course, kid. In fact, there’s some of my signature pasta in there. I make it weekly for the rest of the team, but today Derek ordered something for lunch so he didn’t eat his. You can have it if you want.”

“Thank you, Agent Rossi.” Spencer took the tupperware container out of the refrigerator and put it in the microwave.

“You can just call me Rossi, you don’t have to do the whole Agent thing,” Rossi said as he sat on the other side of Spencer’s chess game. “I didn’t know you played.”

The microwave beeped and Spencer took the bowl out and stirred it around with a fork. They brought it to the table, eating it as they moved a chess piece.

“Yeah, Camille gave me this set for my birthday, which actually isn't for another couple weeks but she didn’t want to wait.”

“You know, I had this old friend, Jason Gideon, he played chess. I think you’d like him. He’s the one who taught me.” Rossi moved his own chess piece.

“He sounds interesting. I fell asleep before Morgan could tell me anything, but have you made any good progress on the case?”

“A little. We found out how all of the girls died but we just can’t seem to figure out why the unsub did this.”

“Unsub?” Spencer said, moving another chess piece.

“Unknown Subject, it’s what we call the murderer. I’ve looked over your files, you seem like a really smart person.”

“Yeah, I uh, I can read pretty fast. I have an eidetic memory, too. I was a pretty good punching bag as a kid.”

“The world will see something amazing and try to take it for their own.” Rossi absentmindedly moved a piece.

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

“So, I’m assuming you don’t have much of a record with the ladies?”

“None at all. I’ve been intrigued by a couple guys, but they’ve all turned me down or turned out to be assholes,” Spencer laughed and moved another one of his pieces before taking another bite of spaghetti. “What about you? You’ve got to have courted some girl with this amazing pasta.”

“Yeah, I have, I actually got three ex wives.”

“Wow, that’s impressive.”

“Depends on your definition of impressive,” It was Rossi’s turn to laugh and move a piece. “You’ve got your eyes on him, don’t you?”

Spencer looked puzzled for a second before Rossi nudged the tupperware lid that had Derek’s name written across the top.

“Maybe, just a little bit. I’d be lying if I didn’t think he was attractive,” Spencer moved a piece. “Check.”

“I think he might like you too.” Rossi moved a piece.

“I don’t. He’s nice, but I don’t think he’d like me back.” Spencer moved a piece.

“I know you haven’t known me for long, Spencer, but I’m right about this,” Rossi moved another piece. “Checkmate. You’re smart, but you’ve still got a lot to learn.”

Rossi got up from the table and started walking out to his car. Spencer packed up his chess set and made a pot of coffee before heading to their office. For the rest of the night they drank his coffee and worked on the painting still sitting on the easel. 

At around six in the morning Spencer was getting ready to brew another pot of coffee and JJ walked into the breakroom. 

“Oh! Hi, uh, are you gonna be here long?” JJ asked.

“Uh, no, why?”

“Uh, Agent Hotchner called us in because he found something with the case. You’re not gonna be allowed in here when he’s telling us, I’m sorry.”

“Oh it’s fine, I’ve been up all night so I should probably just go take a nap anyways.”

They shared an awkward laugh before Spencer went back into the office and promptly fell back asleep on the couch.

Almost six hours later Spencer woke up to Derek knocking on his door. They got up and straightened out their sweater.

“Hey, so Hotch wants you there to hear the profile, just thought you should know.” Derek said, taking in the pajamas Spencer was wearing.

“Oh, okay, thanks.” 

Derek went back out to the bullpen and Spencer closed the blinds of the office windows before changing his flannel pants to jeans. When they finished dressing he went out to the bullpen and sat on the edge of an unused desk. Police officers were scattered around the area.

“You look like you need this.” Derek said as he sat next to Spencer and handed him a cup of coffee.

“Aren’t you supposed to be presenting the case too?”

“No, Hotch wanted to do it himself.”

The two set their cups of coffee down at the same time and their hands brushed against one another.

“You’re comforting.” Spencer thought out loud.

Derek didn’t respond. He just took it in and they both faced away from each other, hiding the smiles from the other’s eyes and savouring the moment.

Hotch’s profile wasn’t all that detailed, but it was early in the case anyways. The unsub would have either no mother figure or a distant one, and the father would be abusive in some way or another. His estimated age range was 25-30 and he would likely have learned his behavior from someone close, possibly the same father that abused him. He would rarely go in public and when he did he wouldn’t talk to anyone unless he had to. He likely wasn’t someone everyone knew and would isolate himself in most situations.

Most of the details floated out of Derek’s head as Hotch spoke as he had already heard the profile once and his mind was already clouded with Spencer’s words. When the presentation was finished Derek walked with Rossi to Penelope’s office to see if she had any new findings.

“He’s kind of a pretty boy, isn't he?” Derek said.

“Who?

“Spencer.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Rossi gave a knowing smile as they walked into Penelope’s office.

TAGLIST: @heavenlydevil @hotpotatowoman @party-poisxn @endingsbeginnings @d3pr3ss3d-w33d-wh0re @ted-theodore-preston​ @moss0ntherocks​ @scandinavian-punk​ @doctorenby​ @penemily​ @izzyl13​ @leomo0n​ @tiedyedrose1705​ 

[seven-oomen]

Please talk about Noah! Your takes are super interesting and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this!

(hope you're having a nice day!)

Alright then strap in! Because I am about to tell you why I think Noah Stilinski is;

A. Bisexual

B. Has the inattentive type of ADHD

Let’s begin!

First off, I think Noah Stilinksi is a bisexual man who has a preference for feminine presenting people. (As one would typically see women dress/appear in western society.) I don’t particularly have evidence for this, I tried scouring S3 to find clues of it, but honestly, I think this is just one of those, I headcanon it and therefore to me, it is true. If you have a different opinion, then awesome, you do you. 

I mean there are some looks between him and Chris Argent that can be interpreted as interested, but you’d have to look very closely. For now, it’s just one of those things, to me it’s like that, and I have fun with it.

Like father, like son right? Except Stiles would be more on the 50/50 scale of bisexuality where I think Noah is more on the 70/30 scale leaning towards feminine people.

As for his ADHD, I did find a lot of clues and tidbits there, so: 

Notice how the sheriff is frequently standing with his arms crossed as if he’s either trying to protect himself (trauma-based) or trying to keep himself from moving too much (ADHD based). This would also explain why the sheriff is often seen standing too still. He also tends to talk with his hands, which is another thing a lot of ADHD people have in common. Though to be fair a lot of NT people do this too.

However here in 3x01 we see the sheriff fully focused on this person while they’re trying to work something out.

Then the next second, Melissa enters the hallway and Noah’s undivided attention is suddenly on her, he barely remembers to utter out an excuse me before addressing Melissa. And he does it as if every neuron in his brain is suddenly focused on her. “Oh hey, Melissa!” 

*Brain switch. Undivided attention is now on Melissa.*

This is a form of hyper-focusing, and if you’ve been trained from a young age you do this while making it look NT-passing. You mask it. I do this. People with ADHD-C or ADHD-I that have a basis in trauma tend to this in my experience.

Like Stiles tends to do, the sheriff too, is moving around fidgeting in the blurry background. He’s talking faster than he can process which is picked up on by his stutters. While he’s trying to figure out a resolution to this conflict. 

You can also tell that there might be some RSD at play here due to the fact that he seems very keen to keep the peace in the scene and wants everyone to get along and let’s keep everyone around me chill. This may not seem like a stereotypical ADHD thing to do, but it’s very common in ADHD-I types.

In the scene with Deaton that he shares in this episode, as well as numerous scenes with Stiles and other characters. You can always see him thinking, you can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to make connections and tries to focus on what lies ahead of him and what people are saying to him. 

Sometimes he successfully succeeds in listening and processing. You see this by his frowns, little head movements. But as soon as those arms cross or his frown deepens you can tell someone is trying to flip the switch, but the light’s not turning on. The information isn’t being processed by his brain. He’s trying to defend himself.

Again, this is a typical thing for someone with ADHD-I who’s been trained and has had extensive therapy to cope with his symptoms. For a while and for general conversations/problems, you are capable of holding the thread. When things get complicated, that’s when you start to see the thread unraveling in Noah’s head.

In 3x02 there’s a moment of impatience as he wakes the boys up but also clearly a look on his face that says a few things.

1. Omg Stiles has done it again.

2. Look at the state of this room where do I even begin? I don’t know, so I just won’t bother.

3. Oh no I have absolutely been here and now I have to deal with my son being in this state too.

So he does the most logical thing to him, he doesn’t deal with it. Just his executive dysfunction going off and thinking; nope I’m not dealing with this, I need to get work, I don’t have time to sit down (hence the mug in his hands.) Man is probably running late already and only now waking the boys up because he realizes they’re A. still in his house. And B. not off to school yet and he needs to get going too.

He has a moment like this in multiple episodes where his impatience and incapability of dealing with a situation in front of him causes him to physically drag Stiles away and using too much force to do it. Though judging by Stiles’s reactions, and the way he relaxes after being grabbed, the sheriff seems to realize how hard he is grabbing and eases up every single time.

And that seems like a little detail, but not knowing your own strength is also a thing that can correspond with ADHD. (Though it can occur in NT people and other conditions as well. Or generally, be caused by anger.) But for the sake of this essay or meta, I will attribute it to Noah having ADHD.

In 3x09 Stiles finally clues him in on what’s happening in Beacon Hills and we can clearly see that he’s struggling to process everything. One could attribute that purely to; 

1. Noah is trying to come to terms that supernatural creatures are real and this would be a lot for anyone to process. Which is a fair and a totally valid assumption.

2. However, we see signs of Noah already starting to believe something is up from the very beginning. There’s always been a side to the sheriff where he was willing to believe or give people the benefit of the doubt when it came to the supernatural. Like in 3x03 when he tells his deputy: “She saw something.”

This leads me to believe that the real matter at hand is that Noah simply can’t process all that information at that time and he needs a few days to think it over in order to do so. Which could be a sign of a processing problem due to ADHD. (Although as I have pointed out, it could also be interpreted as an NT just getting a lot of crazy information at once. Take it as you will.)

In 3x07 Stiles and Scott argue over whether or not to tell Noah what’s going on with the sacrifices. Stiles points out that they shouldn’t because his father is completely overwhelmed.

This can be attributed to several things and interpreted in different ways. Let’s lay down the most obvious one; the sheriff has no idea what’s going on, he has the FBI on his case, and multiple murders on his hands and essentially a serial killer. All of these on their own are enough to be overwhelmed by, yes.

I choose to interpret it as a combination of all of these factors combined with an inability to process this much information or information in general. Which is another symptom of ADHD-I.

We also hear him frequently telling Stiles and the other kids to ‘go home, get to class, go to school.’ Basically what he’s doing in moments like this is 1. looking out for them. 2. Unable to cope and process with all the information he’s been giving during that time and instead of lashing out at the kids, he tries a coping mechanism that’s called divert or redirect. Where you try to redirect people/thoughts/object into a direction or thought process that’s far more manageable to you. 

Which is something that I’ve been taught to do myself in therapy. And that is why I think it’s something Noah has been taught to do as well. Either in the Army/Police Academy. or during therapy sessions.

Now, this is what I like to call Noah’s; I’m trying to process what you’re trying to tell me face. And so far, I’m keeping up. You see the pursed lips, the frown on his face, the slightly squinted eyes. He’s focusing on what Stiles is trying to tell him.

Here he is looking away for a second, processing, trying to manage information. We see him frown further, his lip tensing further, he has to try harder.

He’s processing, processing, he blinks. And then this is the face he pulls right after the blink.

The frown has deepened, he's still following Stiles for now but you can see he’s starting to lose the train of thought here.

Stiles keeps explaining, pulls out the chessboard to explain what is going on.

And Noah has completely lost his train of thought. He has no idea what Stiles is saying to him anymore and no way to process all of the information that Stiles is giving him after this moment. He gets impatient, is annoyed at the things Stiles is telling him. That is because he’s emotionally, and physically overwhelmed. 

He deals with a lot of things in his job and he always seems utterly exhausted because of it. I think that is because his job is exhausting. But I also think it has to do with Noah not being able to filter sounds, stimuli, the inability to process things like an NT. I think Noah suffers from a high level of empathy, this combined with sensory processing issues results in someone who’s constantly trying to filter them out and failing. Resulting in chronic fatigue, turning to other means of dealing (Alcoholism), impatience, etc.

He also seems to have trouble regulating his emotions, as we see with his frequent snaps and jabs at Stiles but he also seems to try and be better about it and regret it when he does snap. We also know that in order to numb his pain and his emotions Noah turned to Alcohol to cope, as sad as it is, this is common in people with ADHD. Who often turn to substances to cope with their symptoms and their inability to regulate themselves, anything to numb all the feelings and their own shortcomings. Noah seems to have fallen into that trap too.

-

I think my favorite moment in this scene comes right after with this face:

And the question of; “Why is Jackson the Kanima?”

Which tells me a few things.

1. After everything, that’s the first question he truly asks as he leans back and tries to process things.

2. This may point to an inability to prioritize tasks/thoughts, which is another symptom of ADHD-I. Which for Noah seems to occur when he’s not on the job or with people he trusts and doesn’t have to mask for. (He does this too when he asks Derek at the station; “But if he doesn’t have a mouth, how does he eat?”) Suggesting that this is a more regular occurrence than we see on the show.

And at this point, I can no longer concentrate on this since I’ve lost my hyper-focus. But I think I managed to compile a pretty decent list.

And that is why I think Noah Stilinski is Bisexual and has ADHD.

Tagging: @mostly-vo1d and @artemisa97 since they are usually involved in these things too. You don’t have to respond of course, but if you feel up to it, join in.

[mrvdocks]

Redamancy

The act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

Steve Harrington. Residential popular boy until high school came and went. Now, he was actively clawing to stay relevant or at least, a ladies man.

Steve Harrington. Childhood crush since the sandbox incident in first grade. And perhaps you could throw unrequited love interest into the mix.

Maybe you should’ve read the signs that he wasn’t interested when you saw him and Robin at the mall. Or when he stopped hanging out with you after joining his “cool” gang. Or when he would try to not stare so much at you in algebra or across the room during lunch. You weren't sure about his feelings anymore. He always hid everything.

You didn’t mean to pine for him for so long. You knew you shouldn't have. But that chance encounter after Nancy broke up with him made you think you had some semblance of a chance. You didn’t want to be the rebound, but how your heart swelled when your eyes met his, your lips upturned in an easy smile. The party seemed to slow in front of you, bodies becoming blurry and your eyes only focusing on his figure coming to you.

If this was anything like the movies you’d seen and dreamed of, you hoped it would end with him confessing his mutual feelings for you and not him taking your face in his hands and kissing you sloppily. You could practically taste the spiked punch on his lips.

You pushed him off, staring at him in shock. He inches closer, his sweaty hands trying to bring you back to kiss you again but you refuse. “Steve?” You whisper to him.

He just stares at you, eyes flickering back and forth, you don't recognize the look. But something about it feels so innocent, so soft. It feels like he’s searching for something deep within you. You shake your head, tears brimming in your eyes. “I’m not Nancy.”

He reeks of punch and hairspray. “I know that.” He manages out.

His hands come back, one hand resting at the nape of your neck, his fingers entangled in your hair. The other caresses your cheek. The feeling made you feel so warm, so loved. You were delighted in his gentle yet sloppy touch, internally screaming for more of the connection.

But you weren’t sure about him anymore, about the things he wanted. It seemed to be a shitty year for him.

Certainly, someone who made it their mission to get over you with cliques and drama didn’t deserve you.

But you were anything if not human in your possibly unrequited feelings.

“Steve.” You say again. You break out of the trance to step back. The moment was accompanied by sounds of loud teens and music, you shook your head again and darted for the door.

Steve mumbles out your name but it gets lost in the sea of screams and synths. You’re out the door by the time he searches for you in the crowd.

He can’t stop thinking about you at work. He stares at the chocolate chip flavor ice cream and thinks of how you dropped yours in the sandbox in the first grade. How he gave you his without a second thought. Robin thinks there’s something wrong with him. And it wasn’t just the pathetic attempts at trying to chat up customers. She said he looked - what’s that word again? Forlorn.

This whole time he thought he wanted Nancy back, but he couldn’t get you out of his head. He missed your laugh, the snorts that would follow. The way you smelled followed him and the way you looked at him that night at the party, the tears in your eyes, haunted him.

He regretted so much of his later high school experience. He regretted being such an asshole. What good did it bring if you were locked out of his life?

He sees you pass by on your way to work at the diner in the mall. He tries to bury his feelings by asking out the random girls he serves but every time he’s turned down it comes back full force.

“Whatever happened to that girl you liked?” Dustin asks from behind the binoculars.

“Which one?” Steve asks. There must’ve been so many Dustin was referring to.

“That one that you always talk about, likes the same "nerd stuff" I do? Pretty? Cool?”

“That’s not my type.” Steve dodges the question, but nonetheless has a clear image of you in his head.

“Oh yeah? What is your type again? Not cool?” Dustin deadpans.

Steve huffs. “Alright, time’s up, give me the binoculars.”

Dustin passes them, eager to get on with his Russian mission. Steve scans the area, he’s about to give up on this whole mission when he lands on the sign of the diner you work at. He can’t help but focus on you at the register, deep in conversation with another co-worker and bursting into laughter. A captivated smirk came onto his face.

“You should probably go talk to her. She’s definitely a step up from the girls from the shop - actually from all those girls you've been trying to ask out.” Dustin says.

Steve looks up from the binoculars. “What’re you talking about?”

Dustin laughs. “You’re so obvious. Whatever happened to not letting girls know that you care?”

Steve shrugs. Stupid advice anyways.

Steve tries to not think of you when everything goes downhill in a span of a few hours. If he died without having said anything to you, even so much as an apology, he thinks the guilt would’ve killed him instead.

“Have you.....ever been in love?” Robin’s raspy voice asks him.

They’re just coming down from their highs and sprawled out on the floors of the bathroom. The near-death experience had scared him shitless enough to rethink a lot of things.

“Yup. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.”

“Bullshit. She’s such a priss.”

He hums. “Turns out, not really.”

“Are you still in love with Nancy?”

“No.” He says, a little too quick.

Robin’s interest is piqued.  “Why not?”

“I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.” He fiddles with the frayed ends of his uniform.

“There’s this girl, the one I like. It’s somebody that I.....kind of ignored in high school. I didn’t mean to but I just know Tommy H would’ve made fun of me. Or I wouldn’t have been prom king. It’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyway but when I think about it, this girl knows me. Inside and out. She always has. I should’ve been hanging out with her the whole time.”

He breathes out, hands shaking as he confesses what he’s bottled up for so long.

“First of all, she’s hilarious. She would have me in stitches all the time,” he chuckles. “She’s such a nerd, she likes Star Wars and math and books and things I made fun of. And she’s so smart. Probably much smarter than me. What do you think?”

“Of?”

“The girl.”

“She sounds awesome.”

“Yeah,” he nods solemnly. “And what about the guy?”

“I think there is something seriously wrong with him. To have something real right in front of him and leave it for something so fake.”

“Yeah, I’m an idiot.” He whispers.

“Have you told her? How you feel?”

Steve shakes his head. “I feel like all the bad I’ve done to her...I just deserve the rejection at this point.”

“You never know until you try. Maybe she feels the same.”

“Yeah maybe.” He concludes.

He didn’t think he’d survive the Russians but he does. With one evil defeated, he thinks the worst is over. And it would’ve been until Billy showed up.

The kids are ready for him, shaky, but on guard. Steve can see Billy’s figure illuminated under the neon mall lights and his heart drops when he sees what he’s carrying.

You’re in Billy’s arms, unconscious and beat up but hopefully still alive. Still dressed in your diner uniform, Billy had snatched you up close to after hours and was planning on putting you to good use. He’d laid you down close by but still far from everyone’s reach.

Everyone’s eyes widened when they realized who he had. They hadn’t planned for this. Heather had gone long ago and if Billy’s plan was for you to become the next Heather, then you were in very dangerous territory.

“That can’t be-” Dustin asks but he’s interrupted by Steve.

“That’s it.” He grits. His knuckles are white and he feels the adrenaline rush through him. Nancy glances at him. The sheer determination is what she saw but the fear is what drove him. She signaled El.

The kids alter their plan to distract Billy so Steve has a shot at pulling you away from the danger. If the Mind Flayer gets anywhere near you, you’re as good as dead.

El gets the Mind Flayer going, letting it try its luck at her. She’s got Billy right where she needs him when she gives Steve the signal.

Steve’s never run so fast in his life. He only gets angrier at the eldritch terror as he comes closer to your body, bloody knicks marking your cherubic face, and a bleeding side wound. You clearly put up a fight.

“No, no, no, no.” He utters in shock, lifting your upper body and supporting your neck with his left arm. His hand grabs at your cheeks, shaking you to gain some response.

“Hey! Come on, wake up! Please.” He cries. When he gets no response he brings you up to his chest, hugging you as tight as he can.

The smell he remembers is there but coated in dirt and slime and blood. He’s horrified. He can’t close his eyes for fear that you’ll pass.

“Not you. Please not you. Come on, wake up.” He rocks you back and forth.  “You can’t leave me too. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. About everything. I'll do anything please, wake up."

He feels you stir under him just then, wincing in pain and moving as slowly as your body would let you.

“Steve?” You mumble his name incoherently.

It’s a miracle he hears it among the commotion in the background. You feel the stinging pain in your side and your hand shoots up to touch it.

“Hey, hey, no. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He takes your hand in his and squeezes it reassuringly.

He’s thankful, so thankful that whatever being there was beyond the Mind Flayer let you come back to him.

“Am I going to die here?" You cry, unable to move without feeling white-hot pain throughout your body.

“No, okay? Just stay with me."

“Steve.” You groan. Your eyes feel so heavy, but he urges you to stay awake. It just feels impossible.

“No hey, we don’t have to talk right now. Okay? Stay with me, please. When this is all over I’ll take you on a hundred dates. You can yell at me, hit me, do whatever you want but stay with me.” He pleads.

A roar startles you both, and upon seeing the Mind Flayer charge to reap its pound of flesh, Steve accepts his fate. He shields you and buries your face in his neck, bracing himself.

The impact never comes. Instead, he hears screams and wills himself to open his eyes. Billy stands just inches away, tendrils impaling him as El lays on the floor in front of you both.

Steve’s shaking worse than before, he’s in shock. He almost thinks El’s dead but she’s a sobbing mess. Everything stops and the Mind Flayer falls dead.

He can hear Max’s cries for Billy. The silence that follows is deafening. Steve immediately looks down at you, making sure you’re still alive. When you wince in pain, he takes some comfort in it.

He kisses your forehead and utters profuse apologies and thanks. With whatever strength you can muster, you squeeze his hand in reassurance.

You sit in the booth, waiting for Steve to come back with the ice cream. You're humming along to the music coming from the loudspeaker in the shop absentmindedly. Today was part of many recoveries.

Steve smiles warmly when he returns, passing you it and watching as you take an eager bite. Chocolate chip, without fail.

“Final verdict?” He clapped his hands together in anticipation.

“It's gonna be a hard pass from me. Scoops did it better.” You giggle, breaking your faux serious face.

“Damn.” He smirked.

You both broke into a fit of laughter, his shoulders bouncing with glee.

Your hand came across the table to hold his, fingers interlocking. You finally realized what that look at the party meant. That gaze he held. He was in love. Completely and utterly at its mercy.  

It’s been three months since the battle at Starcourt Mall. Your side is somewhat healed but the scar will always be there to remind you of the ordeal. Steve’s nightmares about losing you to the Mind Flayer are starting to fade. You managed to get an internship outside of Hawkins doing what you loved and Steve was going with Robin the next day to see if the video store was hiring.

Steve kept his promise. The first date you two had was out of the hospital. It was scary at first, acknowledging bottled up feelings and things from the past that neither of you wanted to own up to before. But when he finally confessed and made it up to you in a million ways, you caved. Since then, dates have become sweeter and funnier, they surpassed the good old days.

You’d like to think things have changed for the better now. Hell, you even managed to convince Steve to start looking at colleges. You wanted to get out of Hawkins as soon as you’d saved up enough and graduated. But for now, you were taking it one day at a time.

You think you’ve earned your soft epilogue, here with him. At least the peace you read about in books. The kind where you can finally breathe. The calm after the storm.

[thedeviltohisangel]

When The Day Met The Night//1

There was a gentle, almost timid, knock on the door and it silenced all the women instantly. They were all in their nightgowns, some with curlers they had pilfered from the Austrian homes, and all of them passing around the most delectable red wine they’d ever been in the presence of. It felt like what they were used to. Giggles and blushing and whispering about the men that were in the houses around them.

masterlist is my url/writing

accepting requests for this pairing

this is dedicated to @softspeirs​ for showing me the first twenty times i watch BoB i didn’t pay enough attention to ron

There was a gentle, almost timid, knock on the door and it silenced all the women instantly. They were all in their nightgowns, some with curlers they had pilfered from the Austrian homes, and all of them passing around the most delectable red wine they’d ever been in the presence of. It felt like what they were used to. Giggles and blushing and whispering about the men that were in the houses around them. It was in the middle of Barbara’s story about the Sergeant in Able Company that the knock sounded.

“Maybe it’s him!” They all huddled together as Barbara stood and opened the door, the sly smirk on her face faltering once she did.

“Sir! Did someone get hurt?” They all craned their necks to try and catch a glimpse of the officer that was standing there.

“No, I was wondering if Violet was around.” 

“One moment. I’ll check.” Barbara shut the door carefully and turned to face the group. “It’s Captain Spiers,” she whispered. They all turned to look at Violet, giddy smiles spreading across their faces. Her own followed suit. 

“How do I look?” She stood quickly and spun as the women came closer to inspect her.

“Beautiful! But you need a robe!” It would be quite the scandal for a man to see her skin in the way the nightgown exposed it. On the other side of the door, Ron was wondering if he had come at a bad time. If he had interrupted...well whatever it was that a group of women would be during right now. Talking? Casting spells? Just as he was opening his mouth to announce he’d come back another time, the door creaked open.

“Hi.” Well, everything felt better just like that.

“Hi,” he whispered back. Just her face was showing through the crack of the door, a robe haphazardly thrown around her shoulders was slipping just enough that his mouth ran dry with the possibilities of touching her skin where he shouldn’t.

“Everyone is fleeing into their rooms, then I can let you in.” His eyes flickered above her head where the blurry shapes of bodies were flying past.

“Fleeing?”

“To give us our privacy,” she teased. Privacy. That was something neither had truly had since before Pearl Harbor. Since before enlisting. Since before basic and Normandy and Holland and all the other hell holes they had marched into.

“I don’t know what that is anymore,” he mused. Violet found it hard to stay standing anytime he looked at her. The way his eyes zeroed in like she was an oasis in the desert. She turned to see a thumbs up from the last nurse slipping into her room, the door finally opening up to Ron fully.

“Well, me having my own room is as close as we can get.” He stepped into the apartment that had been given to the women for their time in Austria. Everyone had agreed keeping them sequestered was the appropriate move. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t go if he was invited to. She led him down the hall and into a room that looked like he imagined it would. In the back of his mind on the cold nights in his foxhole when he told himself deliriousness really was sinking in if he was thinking about the future. Thinking about a future with her in it. Why would he be deserving of such a thing? Why would he be selfish enough to drag her down with him?

“What’s this?” he inquired pointing towards the rifle that was propped against her nightstand.

“If the men are getting drunk enough to run over each other, imagine what they’d do to us. To me.” There had been plenty of comments and looks thrown her way over the years that made her skin crawl. That almost made her quit and return home. No matter how tired and cold they all were, no matter how many of them she had stitched back together, she would always be lesser than them. A girl playing dress up. A girl who’d get put in her place if she tried to find a spot in this world.

“I’d kill them before they got the chance to even think about it.” There was nothing playful in his tone nor his eyes. And she knew he was right.

“I know,” she whispered as she closed the distance between them and cupped the back of his head. Ron was already reserving himself to standing outside her door every night to make sure of it. “Don’t let those thoughts ruin tonight.” Throughout the entire war, since the moment they met even before it turned into what it was, they had sought each other for comfort. The moment they locked eyes the world stopped and stilled. It grew peaceful and content and warm and safe. She didn’t want anything to ruin that. Ruin the sacred place between them that they had built.

“It gets harder everyday to compartmentalize. Gets harder everyday to pretend I’m not screaming inside. That you aren’t the only thing that can soothe my soul.” Everyone knew about them but no one spoke about it. The boys of Easy, who she had been with since the beginning, wanted nothing for her but happiness. And if that came in the form of Speirs, then so be it. If anyone deserved a smile on their face, it was Violet.

“Then talk to me about happy things. Like Boston.” He huffed out a laugh.

“Like Boston.” 

“Yeah. I’ve only been once. Tell me how it looks through your eyes.” Unconsciously, they had begun swaying like they were at a dance. It was a beat only the two of them could hear. A beat they had created with their hearts.

“Well, I used to love when it snowed. Not sure if I will anymore. Me and some other boys used to play hockey on the pond. I remember, even though it was so cold, I couldn’t feel it. I was so excited to be with them and playing and…” She let his words sit between them without a response. She knew what he was going through. The danger of remembering a simpler time. The danger of letting oneself be happy and let their guard down.

“You’ll learn to love snow again, Ron. I promise.” He didn’t respond, instead leaning down to kiss her. It had always been easier for him to get his emotions across through actions. Whether it was anger through killing Germans or love by touching her softly and kissing her hungrily. She sighed into his lips and relaxed against him, letting him absorb her fully. 

“Did you like Boston? The one time you went?”

“I did. We stayed right by the harbor. And ate the most delicious food. If only I had known there were such handsome men…”

“And none of them are worthy of you. Never will be.” There was complete sincerity in his tone. And she knew he was referring to himself as well. She didn’t need to ask.

“Is that where you’re going to go once this is all over? Back to Boston?” 

“Where are you going to go?” She thinks he was deflecting but she didn’t push.

“I got a letter that the theater is willing to accept me back when I get home. I’ll be back in New York.” Her mother would no doubt be thrilled to hear it. That her daughter, tarnishing the society image by covering herself in blood and mud and associating with foul-mouthed men, would return home and be welcomed back as a ballerina. One people paid good money to see.

“That’s where you belong,” he said quietly. And Ron knew what he said was true. People didn’t shine the way she did just to retreat to the background. They didn’t change every life they touched just to have their names resigned. They weren’t born to live in foxholes and never know stability. She deserved the prosperous, golden life that New York could give her. That he couldn’t. Not in Boston, not anywhere. He was abrasive and temperamental and didn’t know how to be careful with anything let alone something so beautiful in it’s delicacy.

“You’re staying with the men?” She figured Ron was never going to have the courage to break her heart. She would do it for him.

“Easy, they’re a special group. I wouldn’t want someone ruining them. Getting them killed over in Japan.”

“Of course,” she nodded as if she agreed. As if she understood. As if she expected Ron to change who he was for her. 

“Otherwise I’d…I’d…” He wanted to say he’d be in New York. That if he wasn’t so good at being a monster he’d be with her. He’d try to fit in. For her. Only for her.

“I know,” she whispered with tears shining in her eyes. “We have to leave a lot of things behind.” But she knew she wouldn’t. Couldn’t leave him behind.

“I didn’t come here tonight to do this, Violet, I promise.” Ron stepped back from her embrace and ran his hand roughly down his face trying to wake himself up from this nightmare.

“You don’t owe me anything, Ron. You’ve given me more than I ever hoped for.” He looked away from her. All of a sudden he couldn’t breathe. His chest was heaving and the world was spinning. She was crying and it was his fault and he was committing to a life without her. The only thing Ron Speirs had been afraid of since the aid station in Carentan. 

“I love you. I love you so much and it paralyzes me sometimes. I love you and I don’t know how to be in love. I don’t know how to be someone you can rely on. I don’t know how to be a stabilizing presence in anyone’s life and I sure as hell don’t know what to do with peace.”

“So stay. Stay with Easy and jump into Tokyo. I’ll go to New York and I’ll wait for you. I’ll go wherever Ike tells you to go afterwards. I don’t know how to be in love either, Ron, but I know it’s not something you’re meant to figure out on your own. It’s not supposed to be easy if it’s worth it. You may not think so but you’re fucking worth it. You’re worth it.” In two strides he was wrapped around her again. He crushed her against him with a ferocity that could only be described as carnal. Ronald Speirs prided himself in never behaving like a fool but he felt like trying to live a life without her and her love would have been the most foolish act of all.

“I can’t live without you,” he gasped as the robe slipped off her frame completely. As more of her was exposed to him than ever before. “I can’t be a good leader, a good man, without you.”

“You have me, you have me, you have me,” she chanted as she held him against her like she would a life raft in the ocean. He kissed down her neck and across her collarbone, his hands moving to grip under her thighs. They didn’t need words, her little jump just enough for him to lift her and her legs to come around his waist. Her back landed on the bed, their lips never breaking as he settled over her. 

“I want you so bad,” he whispered as he body took over, trailing kisses over her nightgown and down her stomach. “But not like this.” The first time they were intimate together was not going to be in a boarding house in Austria on the eve of the Japanese invasion. She deserved better. He would give her better. Violet whined and he chuckled.

“You’ve gotten me all worked up for nothing.”

“You’re not used to it by now?” She slapped his arm playfully. 

“I’m going to miss it. You and all the others not tiptoeing around me. Not judging me when I make a crude joke.” He chuckled around the cigarette he had just put into his mouth. “I’m worried I won’t fit in back home anymore. That high society won’t have me. That my mother’s opinion of me is damaged beyond repair.”

“Fuck her.”

“Ronald!”

“I mean it. Fuck her, fuck high society. Fuck all of it. No one should make you feel ashamed for what you’ve done over here. For having the courage to do it in the first place. They should consider themselves lucky to know you.” He knows he did.

“You know, if you say all that to her it won’t make a good first impression.” She rolled over so she was on top of him now. Her smile was devious but also pure happiness. Ron and her would be together even after this place. They’d always be.

“What if you go home and have a ring on your finger?” She froze. He thinks the whole world did. “Marry me, Violet. It’s going to happen one day so why not now? Why not go our separate ways tied to each other?” If Ron was going to die in Japan, he wanted to die belonging to her. Maybe that way he’d see her again once it was all over. She just giggled.

“You mean that?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes!” she screamed as he snuffed out the cigarette and wiggled his fingers into her side, her laughter waking the whole house if they weren’t up eavesdropping already. “Stop! Stop that tickles!” He relented with a final kiss, her breathlessness and flushed cheeks making her look like her life had not been touched by the tragedy it had.

“Mrs. Speirs,” he whispered as he smoothed her hair back from her face.

“Sounds like it’s meant to be,” she replied just as softly and with as much conviction as she had ever said anything. Life was good. But like anything in Europe, it never was for long.

[yukippe]

the ease you put me in

[ID: A moodboard of six photos. There is gold text above and below the six photos. The text above reads, “korrasami net event 1 - formal.” Below that, in a larger font, it says “the ease you put me in.” The images are arranged by two images by three rows. each row contains a long, horizontal rectangular image and a shorter rectangle beside it. the opposite lengths alternate with each row. The first image, which is long, is of a mirror attached to makeup pallet and a tube of red lipstick. The second image is short, and of a chandelier reflected in a mirror. The third is short and a close up of the sides two faces pressed against each other, the face on the right has brown skin and the face on the left has pale skin. The fourth image is long and of three chandeliers made up of long dangling streams of light. The fifth image is long and blurry and is of someone in a fancy dress exploring a room. The sixth image is short and is of sparkling wine glasses. The golden text beneath the images says, “rey | ao3 - svnflowerz”. End ID]

for @korrasaminet​ event 1: formal | ao3 , 2.2k

1. 

korra is perched on the bench next to the vanity, her arms around her knees and her hair half done. her eyes are only on asami, sitting with her back against the bench and her legs crossed, a makeup pallet in her hand. asami carefully applies eyeshadow and the radio murmurs quietly in the background. neither of them are listening, asami focused on making herself up and korra focused on asami. 

asami finishes with her eyeshadow and lifts the pallet above her head. korra neatly plucks it out of her hands and places it on the messy vanity, selecting eyeliner, a hand mirror. a much larger mirror with necklaces hanging off, and ribbons tied to notches and pictures carefully tucked into the lining is attached to the vanity. it goes neglected, but still reflects the smile on korra’s face as she holds up a hand mirror in front of asami’s face while asami applies neat black lines with the help of a pocket knife. 

the lights catch the sparkle in asami’s eyes reflected in the hand mirror as asami caps her eyeliner. asami winks into the mirror and rests her head back on the bench, her eyes catching korra’s. they smile at each other, their faces full of warmth. korra takes the eyeliner and puts it and the hand mirror back on the vanity, then she moves around so there is room next to her on the bench. asami stands up, stretching her arms out as she moves, her long lines gliding together until she’s slipping into the seat next to korra. 

the two lean in together, seamlessly. their lips meet in the middle in a clearly well practiced movement. they are both smiling into the kiss, and korra’s grin turns slantwise as they separate. korra lifts a red tube into the air and waves it back and forth, her bangs falling in her face when she winks at asami. a light, quiet giggle falls out as asami drops her mouth open when korra uncaps the lipstick. 

korra swats at asami’s leg lightly, “shh,” she says. “i don’t want to make a mess of this, sweetheart.” korra’s eyes are wide open as she neatly slides the lipstick across asami’s lips. the red pops against asami’s skin. korra lifts her thumb up to the corner of asami’s mouth to wipe away a slight smudge. asami smiles into the contact and korra moves forward to peck asami’s lips, again. when she moves back there’s the slightest trace of red on korra’s mouth. 

asami giggles and points to the mirror, korra makes a funny face and asami slumps into korra laughing. korra shrugs her off, smiling fondly. asami smiles back and stands up and offers a hand to korra. korra takes it and lets asami pull her up onto her feet. their arms slide around each other and their heads meet together. korra brushes their noses together once, twice, before turning around. asami plucks a necklace off the vanity and unclaspes it before, carefully, painstakingly, lifting it over korra’s head and letting it collapse gently onto korra’s collarbone. she closes the clasp and tilts her head down  to press a kiss onto korra’s shoulder. korra turns her head and they smile easily at each other. 

“your turn,” asami says. korra nods and sits back in the bench, asami takes a brush off the vanity and walks around the bench and finishes korra’s hair. they distract each other in the mirror, neither caring about the clock ticking or how late they will be. when asami finishes korra leaps off the bench and they walk down the steps of their home, hands swinging between them. they slip into their shoes and asami helps korra into her coat before korra does the same for her. asami pulls the umbrella out of the stand and korra makes sure everything they need is in the clutch. they nod to each other before slipping out of the door, one after the other.

2.

the party is long underway, a band playing and lights twinkling, loud laughter and chatter spills out of the hall, and with it two girls tripping over their heels holding hands. 

korra pushes back a strand of asami’s hair and asami catches korras wrist to press a kiss on the inside of it. the hallway they stand in is quiet, the lights dimmer. “hey,” asami whispers, not wanting to break the hush they’ve settled into. “do you want to explore while no one’s looking for you?”

korra raises an eyebrow at her, smiling, and says just as quiet, “everyone’s going to be looking for you  when they realize we’re missing, miss ceo of future industries.” asami makes a face at her and korra reaches up to kiss it away. “but sure,” korra says as she pulls away. “let’s explore.” 

asami lifts her hand from korra’s wrist to intwine their fingers together, she squeezes korra’s hand once before letting their hands fall down in between them. their eyes catch and asami tugs korra along through the dusty unlit halls and rooms. they pass by too fancy bathrooms and vases with fake flowers and real wilted flowers and real fresh flowers. 

a window, with the last wisp of sun, sparkles and catches korra’s eye. korra pauses for a moment in front of it. asami looks between the window and korra and tugs them forward. the window shows the side garden. a gentle fountain spills over and asami squints to try to get a better look at the pattern on the fountain and the flowers around it. “hm, do you think you could bend the water from here?” asami asks korra. 

korra’s smile slants to the side, her eyes lighting up at the challenge. “hell, yeah.” asami giggles, smiling at her girlfriends well earned confidence. asami crosses her arms and raises and eyebrow expectantly. korra nods, once, and steps back, slipping into waterbending stance.

her face is focused, but calm as her eyes fall shut and her arms start to flow. asami turns her gaze back down to the fountain. the water is swirling up into a heart, and it startles a laugh out of asami. she watches the fountain until the stream of water gracefully falls back into the tiled basin. asami turns her head back to see korra wrap her arms around asami, korra’s chin settling on asami’s shoulder. “i love you too, babe,” asami says, her voice soft and warm. 

then, the loud cry of “hey!!” interrupts. korra and asami sigh into each other at the noise, separating slowly as bolin and opal run up to them.

“guys,” bolin says, very seriously. “you’ve had your turn to run around and explore, we distracted everyone and know it’s your turn to mingle so opal and i can figure out if this place is really haunted.”

asami and korra exchange a look, asami lifting her eyebrows and korra shrugs. “okay,” korra says. “just don’t break anything.”

“of course not!” bolin assures them. 

opal nods reassuringly, “don’t worry, if pabu gets out and breaks anything we’re blaming it on bolin.” bolin mock gasps at her and korra and asami giggle and let the two drift into another hallway, teasing each other fondly. 

3. 

the band has been playing for hours and korra has been trying to convince asami to dance with her for almost as long. “c’mon,” korra asks, tugging on asami’s hand to no avail. “please, asami?”

asami turns her head as if she’s heard nothing and neatly plucks a champagne glass off of a tray passing by. korra sighs and takes the glass offered and lifts it up to clink it against asami’s. the many glittery lights reflecting against the rims of their drinks. Asami holds it up to the light, curious at the colours reflecting onto the glass. 

“asami! c’mon, i have mako on the watch so no one will try and cut in or anything.” korra slips an arm around asami’s waist and catches her eyes. korra’s pouting slightly and asami sighs and downs her glass. 

“okay,” asami says letting a slight smile settle. “one dance,” she insists, though they both know they won’t leave the dance floor for hours now. korra nods and they leave their glasses and wander over to the dancing couples. the music switches, as if one cue, to a slower, gentle song. asami smiles and kisses korra’s cheek as their arms settle familiarly around each other. their heads both tilt forward so that their foreheads rest against each other in the middle. 

some couples around them like bolin and opal and jinora and kai know the latest dance moves and korra and asami smile to each other as they sneak glances of jinora and kai using their bending to do almost impossible lifts, or tenzin who always seems to hover over the steps he and pema take. korra moves to rest her head in the crook of asami’s neck when ikki and kya’s very dramatic and loud duet catches her eyes. 

“uh, asami, are you seeing that too?” asami turns to where korra’s gaze points and has to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing. it is difficult to tell if kya and ikki are in a bending duel or dancing. korra lets her head fall into asami’s neck, but this time she is attempting to stifle her laughter. 

the music raises in volume, as if to try to cover up the mess of kya and ikki’s aunt and niece routine, and korra and asami let the rhythm of the music sink into their movements. asami twirls korra under the sparkling lights and korra, giggling she settles back into asami’s arms, makes sure to dip asami as the song comes to an end. 

4. 

it’s past midnight when they manage to slip away. their feet are swollen from dancing, and they’ve both had to clean off lipstick stains in the bathroom. they say their goodbyes to their friends and step out the front door to see rain rushing down. asami taps their umbrella twice against the ground before lifting it up. 

“you know,” korra says as their heels make quiet splashes in the puddles forming beneath their feet. “i could just bend us a moving roof.” 

asami hms, “sure. but you also look like you’re about to fall asleep.” korra doesn’t say anything to refute that, her head already resting against asami’s side, her eyes fluttering shut. the pitter patter of the rain sounds almost like a lullaby, the world dark and quiet around them besides the gentle ball of fire korra holds out between them every time they step between patches of light from street lamps and apartment windows. 

“i love you,” korra murmurs as they stumble slightly, walking too close to one another, but not wanting to move apart. 

“i love you too,” asami says, smiling at her girlfriend. the rain still falls, and home isn’t far away now. 

5. 

korra lies back on the bed, her feet up in the air as she moves her legs back and forth, watching the stars she and asami painted onto the ceiling when they moved in. the smell of rose petals from their bath clings to her skin and she waits patiently for asami to finish in the bathroom.

finally, asami steps out to see korra sprawled across the fluffy blankets, holding a heart shaped furry pillow to her chest. “hi sweetheart,” korra says, her legs falling back onto the bed as she sits up at the sight of asami. 

“i thought you would be asleep by now,” asami notes as she collapses onto the bed next to korra, stealing the heart pillow away. “you were half asleep on the walk. 

korra falls back onto the bed and they shift so they’re both lying on their sides and smiling at each other, still on top of the covers. too lazy too move anymore at the moment. “oh,” korra says. “well i have one more thing on my to do list before we go to sleep.”

asami giggles and leans forward, kissing korra softly and quickly, “is that good?”

korra smiles warmly, “that was pretty great, but it’s something else.”

“oh?” asami asks, an eyebrow quirking up. 

“yeah,” korra says. she sits up and turns around and asami props herself up on one arm, curious. korra turns back with a pastry from the party between her fingers and a smirk on her face. “i saved you a treat, babe.”

asami snorts and sits up one hand out expectantly. korra breaks it apart and they both sigh, but do nothing, at the crumbs that fall onto the bed spread. they bite into the pastry at the same time. it’s fluffy and sweet, some sort of berry in it. asami wipes her hands off on korra’s pajama pants and korra swats away her hands. the only light left in the room is the lamp next to korra and as they slowly shift to move under the blankets, korra turns it off. darkness settles over them so neither can see the others smile, but they can both feel it as they sneak one last goodnight kiss before sleep takes them. 

a thump sounds at the edge of the bed and korra and asami groan into each other good naturedly as naga curls up at their feet. “goodnight naga,” asami calls, quietly, receiving a gentle bark in return. 

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Kamen Rider Thunderbirds chapter 2

Finally its here! I should thank @willow-salix​ for some tips and @gumnut-logic​ for the review *hugs you tightly* Hai! so on with the chapter! :D

-0-0-0-

With a turn of the tap, a jet of hot water cascaded down on the pruning skin and exhausted muscles. They welcomed its heat as they relaxed.

It was quite a stressful rescue of getting the poor fellas out of that cave in Mexico. After returning home and reported the rescue, nothing like a good hot shower for the all mighty Scott Carpenter Tracy

He washed his dark-brown hair with silky shampoo and scrubbed his fit body with sweet shower gel that smelled lavender

God, that felt good

With all the dirt and dust gone, Scott turned off the shower and got off

He then spends his time fixing his hair. He needed to look good… always! Even when his little brothers make fun of him taking too much time with his hair, the eldest will always be the most handsome one

Finally satisfied with his work, Scott got himself dressed with his classic blue turtle-neck, grey jacket and black jeans, then wandered off to lounge

Familiar harmonies filled his ears and the room, all coming from the beautiful white Grand Piano. Its keys been gracefully pressed by the oh so talented fingers of his younger brother, Virgil Grissom Tracy

The auburn haired man smiled at him the moment Scott entered the lounge and gave him a salute before continuing his wonders of music

Scott looked at the wall where five portraits of him and his brothers were hung. 

Underneath them sat his trouble maker of a brother, Gordon Cooper Tracy, who was playing chess with Brains, the genius who help turn International Rescue into a reality

Looks like today the redhead seemed not feeling like pranking anyone

All in all, it was another quiet and mundane day at Tracy Island

Until...

"Urgh~!" A prolonged groan caught the eldest attention of a young blonde, who just splattered himself into one of the sofas of the lounge

Ah! Their baby brother, the youngest of the Tracy brothers, Alan Sherperd Tracy

Looks like he just came back after a short sprint around the island exhausted as hell… again

"What's up, Alan?" Scott smirked

A pout combined with a grumbling noise gave him the answer

"Gee, you're really are not fit…" the eldest teased

"Scott…" Alan whined, only to hear Gordon snickering quietly in the background "Not funny… I was trying to keep myself fit yet you fellas like take a tease out of me every time I get tired,"

"Alan! That's enough," got out a baritone voice 

Their father, the famous billionaire ex-astronaut Jeff Tracy, was sitting at his desk with papers all over it. He starred sternly at his sons

"All of you need to keep yourselves fit, it's not just you Alan," Jeff began, "You need fitness in order to be capable of performing tasks to save lives. No one wants to be rusty during a rescue, right?"

"Right, father" affirmed Scott

"Guess you're right dad," nodded Alan

"Understood, father" agreed Virgil

"Loud and clear, dad" grinned Gordon

"Good," smiled Jeff, "Looks like I made myself clear"

After finishing signing some of the paperwork on the desk, he turned on the TV behind him

"Now, let's see what's on the news today..." The patriarch muttered

"Today this Friday morning, four Kamen Riders had been spotted fighting a monster in Moore, Oklahoma…"

Immediately, Alan was the first to rush to his father's desk and promptly sat on a chair, staring dead straight into the monitor with a face-splitting smile and his blue eyes sparkled with enthusiasm

The rest of the family followed suit, ears and eyes wide open with curiosity

"Witnesses said the monster was about to terrorize their neighborhood, only to be saved once again by the heroic Riders. As the masked heroes fought the monster, it gave time to the authorities to evacuate the area"

Alan was quietly squealing with excitement as he listened, much to the confusion of Scott and the amusement of Virgil and Gordon

"Some of the rescuees managed to videotape the fight before police arrived at the scene..."

The news switched to the videos that the witnesses managed to capture of the Riders fighting the menacing threat, the Tracy family watching carefully with awe

The videos were almost blurry and mostly shaking. But, they could see 5 figures… 4 of them are fighting a threatening looking creature, looking like it's trying its best to fight back but was outnumbered. The last video showed the monster exploding into nothing

"Once again, the Kamen Riders saved the day. We are grateful for their bravery and we all gonna hope they continue their amazing yet otherworldly work!"

"Those courageous guys," muttered Jeff, "They never fail to impress me"

"You don't say, father!" excitedly chimed Alan

"Not surprised…" smirked Gordon

"What?" Alan growled,

"What? Every time there's news about those Riders, either on radio, TV or newspapers, you get way too enthusiastic about them!" Gordon pointed out, "I wonder what so special about your 'karate bugmen'"

"And why are you so interested in them?"  Virgil raised an eyebrow teasingly, crossing his arms

"Why? Because they are the coolest fellas I've ever seen!" expressed Alan as he was waving his hands, "They say superheroes aren't real, but Kamen Riders do! They possess powers that exceeded our wildest dreams! Don't you think it's also amazing at the fact that they are saving people with those kinds of powers. It's like a dream come true!"

Oh, is it no wonder Alan was obsessed with them? Thought Scott

Well, it shouldn't be a surprise, their baby brother was obsessed with the bugmen since he was 14. 

It all started with a news magazine. There was a small section with a tiny history behind them accompanied by few low quality and blurry pictures. Since then, Alan was invested every time they appeared

Kamen Riders does spark a bit of curiosity in Scott, he had to admit, and the rest of his brothers

"Can't say I blame you, Alan" admitted Jeff while turning off the TV

Everyone turned at him with curious looks

"What do you mean, father?" Virgil asked

"They existed longer than any of us, even before we went into operations," he explained, "But it's not just that that fascinates me. As Alan had said, these fellas are gifted with powers beyond our understanding. It's still baffles me that such people exist (if they are people at all),"

Scott noticed Brains mumbling to himself. He was lost into his own bright mind, his face told curiosity

The eldest of the Tracy brothers was about to say something, but his dad had already beaten him

"What are you thinking, Brains? Do we know anything else about them?"

"W-well, Mr, T-Tracy, I have observed the f-footage and have deduced that their, uh, their powers, have to be organic in nature," Brains explained

"What do you mean by that?" Scott raised a brow

"That they are not derived from human technologies…"

"What about the monsters that they were fighting?" quipped Gordon, seeming interested, “Why did those creatures want to enslave or eradicate humanity?”

"That G-Gordon, I don't know. Either way, we, we better thank the R-Riders to stop whatever evil schemes they p-planned to do,” the genius answered

“It's like those… Um… What are they called?” Gordon rubbed his chin as he thought

“What 'they'?" Virgil raised a brow

"You know, those 'things' who started killing and possessing people and all that crap ever since we've started colonizing Mars?"

"The Mysterons?" Alan replied

"Yes! Those guys! And some races of 'seamen' who seemed to hate us 'terranians' for some reason"

"That is Spectrum's and WASP's job to keep them at bay," noted Jeff

"Now that I think about it, why does everything want to kill us?" commented the redhead 

"That’s enough, Gordon" Scott cuffed the back of the prankster's head

"Actually, why are they called 'Kamen Riders'?” pondered Alan, “That’s a really strange name for superheroes,"

" 'Kamen' comes from a Japanese word for 'masked', since they originated from Japan," said a smart and sexy sounding voice

All turned to the portrait turned vid-com of the middle child of the Tracy brothers, John Glenn Tracy, who smiled when his sudden appearance startled his youngest brother

"Which means they are 'Masked Riders', so this isn’t that ‘strange’", continued the space monitor, "It totally makes sense since they ride on their weird looking motorbikes and we have no idea what they look like behind those bug-faces, "

"Ah, look who decided to throw smartass facts from the floating space can" grinned Gordon teasingly

"I've been hearing you fellas this whole time, squid face," deadpanned John

Jeff chuckled at the little commotion

"Hi, John. How are you doing up there?" greeted warmly the patriarch of International Rescue 

"Doing fine, father," the tall blond replied with confidence that seemed to be unbreakable, "All systems are go and the frequencies are coming in smoothly,"

Jeff smiled hearing the excellent news

That John...

As much he is the introvert of the Tracy brothers, he never stop surprising his siblings with his calculated bright mind

"Uh, John?" Asked Brains so suddenly, but that didn't startled the astronaut

"Yes, Brains?" Responded the space monitor

"Can we talk to my lab so we can examine the, uh, the footage more closely? We can make out theories about how the Riders use their powers,"

"FAB," acknowledged John

"Already found another side-project, Brains?" Scott chuckled,

The genius smiled at him, excitement shone behind his glasses, "I need something to do, Scott. As a matter of fact, I always wanted to study the K-Kamen Riders for a while!"

"Aw, Brains…" groaned Gordon, but in a childlike manner, "We haven't finished our chess game yet!"

"Uh, later, G-Gordon," Brains affirmed, "Right now, I got some 'bugmen' to study," before doodling away to his lab as hummed in excitement

Scott’s father laughed wholeheartedly, knowing how invested his old partner can get with something as intriguing as the ever mysterious Kamen Riders

“Well, gotta go help Brains,” remarked John, “Thunderbird 5, out…” before cutting off, the screen returned back into a painting once more

After that, everyone returned to their daily activities after that. Jeff told everyone to relax while they still can, before grabbing a book to read. Virgil said he’ll go to Thunderbird 2’s hangar to do maintenance and true to his word he went . Scott decided to play chess with Gordon as there was nothing else to do, while Alan just referee the game

The thought of Kamen Riders still linger in Scott’s mind, however. Who are they? Are they just people, like himself and the rest of the world? Who just so happens being gifted with powers that surpasses science?

He doesn't know…

No one knows...

Scott must've been distracted, because by the time he was think about the subject, he’s already got checkmated by Gordon

After a couple of laughs, throwing each other challenges(with Alan wished he had with him popcorn to watch the ‘epic chess battle’), they re-matched once again

It’s just another day at Tracy Island

-0-0-0-

Somewhere in a deep, tropical jungle, there was a menacing looking temple

Inside was a man in black clothing, standing near a round, ancient altar

He had already finished the ritual

The altar awakened in a bright glow of evil aura

Four amulets was insert in each side of the altar, glowing with each of their elements when a chorus of voices echoed the chamber's of the temple

"Who thou released us, what is your wish?"

The man in black smiled grimly as he told the answer, "I want an organization known as 'International Rescue' to fall into oblivion, so I can be the most powerful man in the world!"

A red amulet suddenly glowed brightly and took off from it's socket of the altar. It flew to the center before it was then engulfed in flames. After a few moments, the fire had faded. Leaving in its wake a silhouette of a menacing creature

Glowing red evil eyes stared into the man in black, seemingly reading his mind, before letting out a chilling grin

“I shall melt their fragile ships into nothing but molten metal…”

“Then I shall burn their feeble flesh to ashes…”

“And your wish shall be granted within an essence made out of their souls…”

 The temple shook by the sounds of maniacal laughs and echoed through the forest. It scared the wildlife as they run away from its evil influence

The master plan had begun...

The nightmares had been unleashed to the world...

tbc...

[yeocult]

euphoria | k.hj

genre: angst, inspired by ‘euphoria’

wc: 3.6k words

synopsis: sometimes two people in the universe who aren’t meant for each other find each other

cw: explicit language, unhealthy relationship(?), panic attacks, slight mentions of addictions/meds

—

another sleepless night, another morning, another day. 

they all seem the same, and there weren’t anything you could do to help yourself escape this depressing hell hole. there wasn’t anything necessarily bad about your life, but when you hated your brain, the rest is hard to enjoy. then everything else collapses like a long, never-ending domino effect.

suddenly you find your whole days blending together creating one endless and suffocating loop.

exhaustion hits after a couple of hours of dancing, you sat on the concrete steps outside of the building. escaping from the intoxicating atmosphere of obnoxious teenagers filled with emotions and hormones packed together along with the noisy music ringing your ears. you weren’t a huge fan of the dj’s music taste in the first place.

everything felt blurry, you couldn’t make out the lyrics of whatever song was playing from the distance anymore. quietly watching people enter and exit as you quietly sat on the ground, hugging your knees close to your chest.

the feeling is similar to those special effects used in movies or shows; where the character is moving in slow motion, but their surroundings are racing past them while they are stuck in one spot.

the corner of your eyes caught a bright blue hair and you immediately knew who exactly it was. it wasn’t hard to miss hongjoong, especially with his current hair colour.

every year school dances would just be every other regular day. there wasn’t any excitement or joy in prom for you like the other students had found. well, it wasn’t like you had anyone to attend it with, so what’s the point? but this year was a little different. because ever since the new boy came to town, you knew things would not be the same.

never in a lifetime would you see yourself all dressed up, let alone go to school dance. you had to admit,  his influence was strong. you found yourself stepping out of your comfort zones more often when he’s around. he insisted to doll you up in anything other than your usual joggers and a hoodie. it was hard to reject his pout, he knew that too.

so you let him do his magic, you could tell he was having a blast playing dress-up with you. loving the way he dressed you up, the two of you even had a mini photoshoot before attending the dance. a new polaroid added to your wall along with the many other memories.

“what’s wrong?” hongjoong took a seat next to you on the steps. his cold fingers slightly brushing your ears, he gently tucked loose strands of hair behind your ear for a better view of your face.

“i fucking hate this town.” you blurted out.

hongjoong snorted at your blunt words, asking if you took anything today and you shook your head. you were dead serious and one hundred percent sober—you’ve been for a while now.

there wasn’t clearly a reason, but when you’ve been living in the same neighbourhood your entire life, you’re bound to grow sick of the place. you could say with your whole chest that this town did fucking sucked ass, but hongjoong made it a little brighter. he flashed you a smile, showcasing his perfect teeth. it was the type of smile that showed he was interested in whatever you were thinking.

“don’t we all? everyone in this town’s so fucking boring. i’d set it on fire and watch it burn to the ground if i could!” your eyes widen when he shouted his brutal thoughts out loud, not caring if the other students were glaring at him with a concerning look. because the last thing hongjoong could give a fuck about, was other people’s opinions.

student’s faces quickly turned away when met with hongjoong’s finger and his smirk. he leaned back spreading his legs out and supporting himself with his hands. he looks up at the sky, admiring the bright stars in the night inhaling the cool summer air.

nothing in the world compares to hongjoong. to you, he was without a doubt, the best thing to exist in life. he was attractive in every way possible. you always joked about how the heavens really took the time crafting hongjoong just to see him smile and burst in laughter. only knowing him for a couple months, you knew for the fact that he’s a fucking great guy.

glancing over to hongjoong, looked stunning tonight, causing you to swallow nervously. his eyes surrounded with glitter with little stars and dressed from head to toe with his most outstanding outfit. normally, his bold choice of fashion would make people turn their heads to him. either with admiration or confusion, sometimes both.

tonight took the trophy. his ears and fingers were decorated with jewellery that made him shine more than he ever did. he never held back on jewellery, “i didn’t poke ten holes in my ears just to cover them up”, he once told you. smiling to yourself at the memories of him flashes through your mind.

remebring just a couple of minutes ago in the dance. loving the way the fuchsia and blue lights softly bounced off of his smooth skin when the two of you were on the dance floor earlier. the orange lights shine bright in the background, complimenting his blue locks beautifully.

when you twirled him around, so would his little half skirt that he wore for this exact reason because he thought it was pretty. he held your waist with his hands, suddenly the world went dark and the only thing that mattered was the person standing in front of you.

even now, when the spotlight isn’t focused on him in the dark, his aura glows brightly like the sun. it makes looking at him for too long will burn you. but to have the sun so close is an honour, even if it burns you.

“it’s just—i’ve been thinking…” you trail off, biting your lips. you started to fidget with your shoelaces, unsure of whether the words you wanted to say was a bad idea. after being around hongjoong for so long, you lost the concept of bad and good. everything around you looked so grey.

ever since hongjoong walked into your life, a lot of your life has changed. that’s just how life is, right? it’s constantly changing, whether we like it or not.

he moved here from the city with his father for a fresh start, things around his small town have been different. was the change a good thing? you weren’t sure nor did you really care. all that mattered was that he made living a little bearable. you wanted to live because of him.

he painted this boring town with his vibrant colours.

the two of you immediately clicked. you’ve never had someone like hongjoong. actually, you never really had that many people in your life, to begin with. you would occasionally join any group of people that would allow you in, but they would all fade away and forgotten within a few weeks. they weren’t memorable.

with hongjoong, you didn’t need anybody else. he was worth millions, and you couldn’t afford to lose him.

you were both broken in your own ways, and yet you both attracted each other like magnets, holding on to each other’s broken pieces. maybe it was how he didn’t judge you no matter how fucked up you can be sometimes. or that he was just as fucked up as you and that you weren’t in the position to judge him either.

although you would never say it out loud, for a short moment, you believed that maybe hongjoong was your soulmate. it was silly of you to even think about it. then again, after watching so many people come and go throughout your life, you yearned for someone who could always be there for you. you craved the stability that you thought hongjoong could give to you.

there was no title that defined the relationship you have with hongjoong. little things he does with you might be couple worthy; how he kisses your lips once in a while, how he would fall asleep in your bed or knock on your window at three in the morning, he would twirl and spin you around in the kitchen like old lovers to some jazz music on your mom’s record player.

what you both have was unclear. after all, you’re both young teenagers who both have a lot to figure out. and teenagers don’t have to point a finger and settle for one person right away. maybe the best choice was to leave it how it is.

nothing more, nothing less. it’s not like you were going to marry him and the two of you could grow grey together happily ever after. it wasn’t that simple. however, it’s nice to have something to dream about, even if it’s for a moment.

hongjoong hummed a tune, letting you continue.

you took a deep breath before letting it all out, “fuck it. what if we, like just fucking left. what if we just went home and packed a bunch of our shit and just bought a ticket, and like went to a new city or something? what if we just ditched this dance—this whole town, and just fucking left?” letting out an exhale after your long ramble.

tilting his head to the side, hongjoong’s eyes widen at your spontaneous idea. “you’re fucking insane.” soon the shock face formed into a mischievous look with a huge grin and glimmering eyes, he liked the idea.

“yeah… you’re right, maybe i am.” you chuckled. looking up at the night sky, looking at absolutely nothing. the sky was clear of stars and the moon wasn’t in sight. “but you aren’t any better.” fuelling hongjoong with your words.

without any hesitation, hongjoong jolted up with excitement and adrenaline flowing through his whole body. “then what are we waiting for?” he grabbed your hand, pulling you up. “let’s get the hell out of here!” laughing in the cool air, 

two young souls without a care in the world, rushing towards the unclear future.

the both of you ran without stopping. your feet felt heavier with each step that brought you closer to his home. you held his hand tightly, strengthening your grip every now and then because you were afraid if you weren’t holding on to him tight enough, he would run off leaving you behind.

quietly opening his front door, the two of you tiptoed upstairs to his room making the least amount of noise as possible not to wake up his father who was sleeping in the room down the hall. he roamed around his room, grabbing a duffle bag and stuffing it with as many clothes and other belongings he could possibly fit.

you sat on the edge of his bed, panicky eyes start darting around his room. every time you feel good, you think it’ll last forever, but it doesn’t.

and that’s when it hits you. like an oil truck on the highway going a hundred miles per hour and you just got rear-ended, everything explodes with fire. it hits you that maybe this wasn’t the best decision, you needed more time to think this over.

but it was too late, hongjoong had already filled up his bag and was ready to leave.

feeling the wave of regret drowning you. he could feel your discomfort, it wasn’t hard to read your facial expression. dropping his bag, hongjoong stepped closer, holding your hand in his. he caressed your palm to relieve your nervousness, “we’re gonna be okay.” he says as he planted a quick kiss on your forehead.

there’s this saying that goes something on the lines of, “in the bad times, there will be good times. but that also meant during good times there will be bad times”, that’s what your mother used to tell you. wishing life was as calming as that sounds because if you were being honest, those words cause nothing but confusion.

in a blink of an eye, you two were no longer in his bedroom and hongjoong was already purchasing tickets for the train that was ready for departure in just a few minutes from now. he grabbed your hand and lead the way.

you know you shouldn’t be here, “joong, i just realized i left my phone at home and fuck—i forgot my medication.”

“we could like, get medication anywhere. plus, you could use my phone for now.” hongjoong suggested. there wasn’t any hint of anxiousness in his voice because the truth was, he’d been prepared to leave the moment he steps foot into town.

“n-no…i think if i miss a day that’ll be really fucking bad. and i need to call my mom, a-and what if something bad happens to her when i’m gone?” it’s fucking one o’clock in the morning, you started to stress over how your mother is going to react when you weren’t in your bed. you started to think of all the worst-case scenarios, you couldn’t help it. you owe it to them, you didn’t want to mess up again. one wrong move could fuck up every thing good in your life.

squeezing your hand, “you can always use my phone, okay? we’ll figure it out, i promise.” he reassured you that everything is going to work out well, like he always does. and he never fails to make you feel safe. but this time it didn't feel the warmth of his words like before.

the station was relatively quiet, with only a couple of people around, but your head was banging and noisy. the feeling was overwhelming. your stomach was like an ocean during a bad storm. water sloshing, crashing and hitting all sides, changing the intensity as it gets worse and worse. the heavy smell of gas and the dim lights flickering once a while wasn’t making the environment any better. frantically looking around the station, to the left, right, up, and behind. trying to keep your eyes busy with anything except the path in front of you.

realizing how small you were in this world, with everyone around you so calm while you felt like exploding and breaking down at any moment now. how insignificant your mere existence was, how you could disappear right now and everything would still be the same. the trains would still be running and the days will go on. and hongjoong would still go to the city.

the universe is just out here not giving a single fuck.

you began to panic and second-guess the whole plan. you can’t quite pinpoint the cause of your anxiety, or the cause of your chest pain and mouth feeling dry. all you knew was that this was a mistake, being here with him was a mistake, this whole plan was a mistake. your brain felt as if it was breaking down, being split into two hemispheres.

“joong, i-i don’t, i don’t think this is a good idea.” you couldn’t control how shaky your voice was.

he laughs it off, “but it was your idea.” he didn’t know why you were acting so strange all a sudden. when you offer or sort of just throw the idea out there that, “we could run off and just go to the city and be happy”, of course, hongjoong would jump at that in a heartbeat.

“i-i know it was, it was my idea. but now, i don’t think it’s good anymore, we should—”

“listen,” he cuts you off reassuring your anxiety that everything is going to be okay, “what do you mean? it’s a fucking great idea.” he says with a higher pitch than usual, an attempt to lift up your mood.

that’s because, for hongjoong, this is the most fucking brilliant idea. since he came to town, his life has become increasingly fraught.

hongjoong has been thinking about leaving this town multiple times. not even on his second day of moving to his new house, he had already lashed out at his dad for moving them here and that he rather stayed with his mother who currently lives in the city. maybe he was selfish for that, he just wished things were different.

the one time he left for a couple of days to visit his old friends in the city was the time when you and hongjoong weren’t on good terms, it was an outlet to cool off. experiencing some of the best moments of his life being surrounded by neon lights, busy roads, and his friend’s loud chatter. 

it was the best feeling, nobody knew what he was going through. he didn’t have to worry about all the negative thoughts, he didn’t have to overwhelm himself with unnecessary overthinking, he didn’t have that burden on him.

because here, nobody gave a shit. his only worry was which club he would show up that night with his friends.

coming back to the dull town he despises with this whole being after this trip being filled with adventure and high energy only made him crave the city even more. it’s what his friend would call addiction. having a taste of something once, coming off the high, and finding himself craving for more.

hongjoong appears to be glowing after his short visit to the city, you noticed that. it made you yearn to be the type of person he would use to describe his friend, someone he can enjoy the city life with.

he was smothered by the life he lives in the suburbs. he wanted an escape. a reinvigorating trip to the city might be the best for hongjoong.

but for you, all you wanted was to be in the comfort of his bedroom, having his arms wrapped around you as the two of you doze off to dreamland or watching some horrible rom-com tv show that he always failed to stay awake. 

those were the peaceful days, the days where your brain wasn’t flooded with thoughts that would weigh you down. you wanted hongjoong to be by your side at all times, even if it seemed selfish.

your feet failed to match his pace. “can we just slow down for a second? i-i’m trying to think. you know, my mom she’s probably freaking out right now. it’s one in the morning, and, and my sister, she won’t see me when she wakes up it’s just i, don’t want her to fucking panic—”

hongjoong stops his tracks for a second, meeting your glossy eyes. you can tell how much this means to him. “look at me,” tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ears for a better look. cupping your face in his hands, wiping your tears with his thumb.

and for a moment, you think that maybe it’s not that bad.

but that feeling was quickly swept away by the train that just arrived, opening its door for passengers. the swift wind blowing hongjoong’s little half skirt just like how it would when you would twirl him around.

“it’s not that far,” hongjoong stressed. his eyes disappear into crescents and gives you a small chuckle too short to be called a genuine laugh. how could he even have the energy to find amusement in a situation like this?

“and like, we’re good, okay? trust me. you can always call or visit them.” he continued his pace towards the train doors.

while hongjoong remain calm and unbothered by the situation, you were frantic and your head was spiralling. you started to think about your family, the look on your mother’s face when she overthinks about your wellbeing and the chance you might not come back. your heart sinks at the thought of your sister’s face when she wakes up the next morning only to find you weren’t in your bedroom.

with each step hongjoong dragged you towards the train’s door, the harder it was for you to breathe. there was no air. it felt like the two of yu were trapped in space and hongjoong was the only one floating while you were gasping for air.

no amount of deep breathes can help you. “yes b-but what the fuck am i supposed to say? they’re gonna think i’m missing—”

hongjoong step foot onto the train, “we’re good, c’mon. it’s gonna be great.” he coaxes you onto the train. you planted your feet on the ground while still intertwined with his hand.

“hongjoong…” there wasn’t much to say anymore, the usual nickname didn’t roll off your tongue as easily as it did before.

deep down, you just wanted to say, “fuck it”, and hop on that train with hongjoong. but the words die down in your throat. as much as you wanted to be the spontaneous, pack-up-and-go person for hongjoong, you know that couldn’t.

you came to realize that getting on that train could do more damage than healing.

hongjoong stumbled in your life without a map or a compass. eventually, he would leave, going back to where he originally belonged. at some point, he would have to make his choice. you loosen your grip on his hand, letting him free. sometimes two people in the universe who aren’t meant for each other find each other.

he grasped your hand back into his grip, you only shook your head telling him that you couldn’t do it. when your tears started to spill over that fact, hongjoong knew he was going to the city alone.

“please,” hongjoong begs from inside of the runaway train. “i love you.” he did. he loved you and you loved him.

still, you refused and let the door close, separating the two of you from each other’s reach. you look at him one last time with glossy eyes and watch the train leave from the platform.

it was all in slow motion, the train speeding past you while you were unable to move your feet. all you could do is watch people come and go and there wasn’t anything you could change.

[lovinnscarletknight]

Video messages - Tony Stark!Dad x reader

-- Imagine being Tony Stark’s daughter and you disappeared when Thanos caused the blip. He leaves you a series of video messages talking to you about what is going on and he never loses hope. 

I’ve had this in my drafts for agesssss and finally thought I should publish it since I haven’t posted in months.... enjoy, it’s probably sad.

                                                              * * *

“February 2019” He cleared this throat carefully sitting back in his seat, “Hi Y/N, I figured that maybe videos of everything happening would be easier to show you when you come back rather than trying to explain it to you” Tony was sat in his chair and it was quiet. He looked too sick to be up and talking and definitely in a bad shape, “After everyone disappeared, I was stuck on that planet, in that ship, with Nebula for five days. Just stuck floating in space. She looked after me, she did her best. I had said goodbye when Carol showed up, she brought us back to the compound; Pepper was there and part of me was hopeful that we could get you back. But every day – it just gets harder not waking up to see you. I miss you”

“May 2019” Tony had gained some weight and was now sat in a different environment, in fact, he was sat in Y/N’s bedroom, “Pep and I have moved out of the compound, I built a house for all of us, me, you, Pep and, your little sister” Tony smiled as he held up a sonogram and Pepper happily laughed as she sat carefully on the bed, “We are actually in your bedroom now, don’t worry, I didn’t decorate, I left that to Pepper. It’s really quiet without you. I made your favourite last night, famous spaghetti, it didn’t taste the same; I know that sounds weird but it’s true. We also got the freezer stocked with cookie dough, we know you’ll be back soon and we know how much you love ice cream” Tony smiled gently and Pepper placed her hand on his shoulder, “We love you, we really do”

“August 2019” The room was lit and the background was different, he was sat on the decking outside, a glass of whiskey in his hand, “It’s been seven months since you disappeared. It would be your seventeenth birthday today. God – seventeen, where has the time gone?” He stared at the drink in his hand wiping a tear that fell from his eye, “Pepper is doing well. We decided to name her Morgan, little Morgan Y/N Stark. Pepper wanted your name in there too, she misses you. I don’t know what to say anymore. Part of me knows that I need to let go of you and continue our lives; I know the last thing you would want is this. You hated the attention” He sighed wiping his face with the back of his hands, “I love you”

“December 2019” The Christmas tree was up, it wasn’t dressed to what it normally was but a simple star sat on top, very few presents sat wrapped underneath differing much from last year, “Merry Christmas honey. I raised a glass for you tonight, Pepper raised a juice box” Pepper stepped forward waving, her pregnant stomach huge compared to the last time she had appeared on screen, “Morgan is due next month, the twenty- third. We really hope that you’ll be back with us by then, but chances seem low. We’ve got some Christmas presents too for you, I know you don’t like them but” Tony shrugged and looked at Pepper who quickly wrapped him in a hug. Tony sobbed harder before Pepper leaned forward switching the camera off whispering soothing words to her husband.

“January 2020” Tony smiled bright holding Morgan wrapped in a small pink blanket, “Y/N, this is Morgan, your little sister. Say hi honey!” Tony titled Morgan so the camera could see her little sleeping face, “She looks just like Pepper, but she’s got our face. You would love her Y/N; she is so small and precious. The birth went as planned, no complications; Pepper is resting but I’ll get her to pop in later. God – I can’t wait for her to meet you Y/N/N. See you soon beautiful, I love you”

“June 2020” Tony sat in the wooden seat looking tired, “Hello Y/N. It’s been a while since the last time I made one of these and this is going to be the last one. I can’t keep doing this knowing that I could be holding on to some hopeless dream that you’ll come back but also because if you do than it’s going to be too hard for you to see everything you have missed”

“I can’t expect you to be ok with us moving on with our lives but I also need you to know that not a day goes by that I don’t think of you” He nodded towards the camera, his vision now blurry, “I would give anything in a heartbeat to have you back here with us. Losing your mother hurt, then we lost your brother which was painful, but losing you? I can’t formulate how much this hurt. We were there for each other; we were all we had at one-point Y/N. It was me and you, against the world but I fucked that up, and no number of apologies or tears is going to fix that”

“Seeing you grow up so quickly these past few years has made me so proud to be your father” He shuffled in his seat wiping the fallen tears, “I will think of you every day when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep and all the time in between. You’ll always be with me Y/N, and I know right now, where ever you are, I’m with you. You know why right?” He smiled softly, “Me and you, we’re a team. I love you always Y/N”

“August 2023” Tony felt weird sitting down like this after such a long time. His hair had lightened, his face more worn and wrinkled but he looked happy, “It’s been three years since I last sat down to talk to you. As promised, not a day goes by when I don’t think of you. Today you would have turned twenty- one, finally legal to drink – although I knew those parties you went to had alcohol, I wasn’t stupid” He smiled, a small projection of what was in front of him lighting his face.

“Steve came and spoke to me today. I know, I’m just as shocked as you are. He thinks that we can go back in time, retrieve the stones and then use them to get everyone back. I was hesitant, I’m not going to lie Y/N. I couldn’t lose everything we’ve built to get crushed again but, turns out, I’ve figured it out. The whole-time travelling thing, I mean shit” A small voice repeated the curse word and Tony turned away from the camera scolding his youngest daughter, “You want to say hi to Y/N” Morgan agreed before clambering up her father’s legs to sit on his lap, he pointed at the camera and Morgan smiled and waved, “Morgan knows this is going to work, right?” the young girl nodded her head, “You’ll be home soon Y/N/M, we’re in the home stretch now and I can’t wait to see you again. I love you honey”

“I love you 3000 Y/N” Morgan beamed as Tony lent forward and the screen went blank.

---

Sorry for not posting in so long but hope you enjoyed!

Requests are open and I’ll take anything except smut :) 

- Angela x

[mollymauk-teafleak]

A Stranger in a Crown (part one)

Thanks to my amazing beta readers @spiky-lesbian and @minky-for-short who came up with the premise for this AU!

--

Please consider leaving a comment! I work super hard on this 

Juno Steel has one night to pick the person who will become his betrothed, one night to pick the person who will save their planet and he will spend the rest of his life with. None of the choices offered appeal to him, he's exhausted with the expectations of being the crown princess.

But there is a potential suitor amongst the crowd that he hasn't met yet.

--

The only time Juno liked to see his reflection was when it was gazing back at him from the surface of the champagne in his glass.

Then it would always be shifting and changing as the bubbles rose to the top and burst like stars falling to the ground, only played in reverse. Then it would be the colour of old, faded gold. Then it would be small, shrunken down to the circumference of the flute in his hand, looking far enough away to not hurt him.

With such a blurry and indistinct reflection, you could be anyone. It all became so wonderfully hard to pin down. He couldn’t see the too large nose or the scar across the non functioning eye, the scowl or the lines at the corners of everything that told him he’d waited too long. He could pretend he wasn’t looking at Juno Steel at all but someone else, someone with a different life. Even the background became an abstract, watercolour, blotches of cream and gold and silver, pricked through by points of light. Anyone and anywhere. What a dream.

And when he remembered, when reality came crashing back in...well, there was alcohol right there.

“I’ll be watching how many of those you have,” his mother’s voice came from behind him, “Tonight is not the night to disgrace yourself, Juno, too much is riding on your performance.”

Juno set the flute back down, now holding dregs, back amongst its many twins on the table by the door, set so the guests didn’t have to spend a moment at the ball without a drink in their hand. Would that he’d be granted the same courtesy.

“It’s my ball, isn’t it?” Juno muttered, in too much of a dark mood to back down, “I can have one drink.”

His performance. It was that word that had set his hackles up, made him snap back at his mother when he knew the sensible thing would be to bow his head and keep silent, especially when she had that face on.

But it was true, wasn’t it? Tonight was the most choreographed event their tiny outer world had seen in years, more effort had gone into it than a freaking cabaret. And Juno was the star, not that he’d ever auditioned. But so much more was at risk, way more than a bad review, if he put a foot wrong tonight.

“You can have one drink,” his mother narrowed her eyes, that scowl settling into her powdered face and cracking it like a poorly made cake. She’d blame him for that too before the night was out, “One drink, out here. But if I see you so much as reach for a glass when you’re out there, where everyone can see you, after the way you’ve been behaving lately…”

“I know,” Juno said sharply, feeling his cheeks colour, shame burning in his chest, burning the fight in him to black, brittle shards that didn’t have a hope in hell of standing on their own, “I won’t...it won’t be like that.”

“Then prove it,” there was a note of triumph behind her voice, “Stand where you’re supposed to and wait for our cue. Like we actually rehearsed.”

Shoulders feeling heavy, Juno returned to his mother’s side, the enormous silken skirts of his ridiculous gown whispering as he moved, sounding like a hidden audience gleefully gossiping about him. Back in their allotted places, the three of them arrayed in a triangle. Juno and Sarah in front and, just behind, Benzaiten. As soon as Juno was back in place, his brother reached forward and took his hand, giving it a quick squeeze, the only comfort he could give right now. But it was something.

Juno held his fingers tightly in return and wished he dared turn his head to see him smile, the kind of smile that made him believe everything would be okay because Benten would never be far, no matter what happened tonight.

Except now, even that was running on borrowed time. And as that thought entered his mind, his hold on Benten’s hand felt like a desperate grasp, like trying to keep his grip on a rocky shore when the sea was trying to drag him out into fatal depths.

But the tides were moving and nothing could stop them. His mother raised her hand, dripping with gemstones, and attendants began moving at her wordless command. The enormous oaken doors in front of them creaked and began to move, their bulk inching forward. The noise of the party within went from muddy and blurred to clear, the music and voices untangling themselves and becoming separate sounds, the rich golden light flowing into the hallway. It all resolved itself, like a picture on a comms, becoming an enormous ballroom spread out like a tapestry from the balcony they walked out on. The chandeliers, fitted with genuine halogen bulbs, hung like watching spacecraft, illuminating the party attendants below, elaborately dressed lily pads bobbing aimlessly on a lacquered wood pond. It was all enormous, lavish dresses in rich materials, exquisitely embroidered suits and some garments that straddled the line between the two, every single one of them encrusted with jewels like beetles with fabulous carapaces. At the opening of the doors, the musicians paused and the directionless meandering stilled, hands that were reaching for glasses of wine or the tables of delicate canapes quickly returning to sides. All eyes turned upwards and the cameras began to flash.

The herald drew herself up and, rather unnecessarily announced for all to hear, “Her Majesty, Queen Sarah, the Prince Benzaiten and the Crown Princess Juno.”

As if there was anyone in the room, anyone on their entire tiny outer world planet, who didn’t know who they were.

His mother, smiling benevolently with an expression whose falsehood could only be seen from up close, raised her hands in welcome and projected her voice through the ballroom, “I thank each and every one of you for your attendance tonight. Truly, we hope this will be a magnificent night that will change the future of our humble planet and secure a path to bigger and better things for all on Harpyia. With the long awaited selection of a spouse for my heir, your devoted Princess Juno, we will put the war behind us and move forward together. So! Welcome suitors, visitors and Harpyians. Welcome all.”

There was a polite clapping at the end of her pronouncement and more eyes on him, making his skin crawl. He tried to fix a regal smile on his face, like he’d seen his mother do, like he’d been practising in the mirror since he was eight, waiting for it to get easier.

Cameras flashed and there were appreciative murmurings as the party’s attentions fragmented again, dissolving back into little bubbles as the music started up again, flowing seamlessly back together as if there had been no break.

“Now,” Sarah turned and lowered her voice, talking only to her two children though her eyes were fixed on Juno, “You know what I expect. Smiles, light conversation and above all, get them on our side. This is a ballroom full of wolves, my little monsters, and tonight is the only chance we have to turn them into wolves on our side. So charm them, however it takes. And Juno?”

Juno lifted his eye from the floor, already knowing what was coming, “Yes, mother?”

“Pick one,” Sarah said through gritted teeth, “Or I will pick one for you. This is your last chance.”

Pick one, Juno thought miserably. Pick one set of those eyes to have to live with, to own you, to spend the rest of your days hiding from while sharing their bed. Become a china doll, sitting on their mantle. And pick correctly or Harpyia is done for. Our mines are empty, our seas and skies are poisoned, our people are dying, the much larger planets that circle us are watching hungrily, ready to fight over what scraps of meat remain on our bones.

Save the planet. And doom yourself. But for the love of god, do it right.

“Yes mother,” he murmured.

The queen’s words followed Juno on his circuit of smiles and platitudes like the train of his ridiculous gown.

This is a ballroom full of wolves. And he was the bait.

They were all here, he could find their faces in the crowd with very little effort, they stood out like pins pushed into a map. All his suitors. God, he hated that word. And by the time this ball was over, he had to pick one of those pins and follow it, to whatever depressing end.

They went on a sliding scale, these people who were courting him or being forced to court him by parents somehow even more demanding than his own. From very bad ideas all the way down to abominably bad, borderline suicidal ideas.

One of those was eyeing him from across the dancefloor and, when Juno noticed, gave him a smile of the kind a Halloween decoration might give. That was the only kind Cecil Kanagawa was capable of.

The tricky part was that Cecil actually seemed to like Juno, or at least his own twisted version of that. They’d known each other for some time, his mother and father’s kingdom was closest to their own, their planet hanging in Harpyia’s sky like another moon. They’d also eyed the queen’s throne with more hunger than most dared. It was rumour so widely accepted that it wore a fact’s clothes that it was the Kanagawas who had sent the assassin that had almost claimed the Steel twins’ lives when they came of age. Almost. Would have succeeded, too, if Juno hadn’t woken up to see the figure holding the blaster to Ben’s forehead and been stupid enough to launchhimself at them without a second’s thought to call for the guards.

Though the queen had been paralytic with rage, there had never been anything to tie that figure to their neighbours in the sky, and the assassin had become a corpse before they could give up the name of their employer, thanks to the letter opener Juno had shoved through their neck. It was all courtroom gossip, nothing their guard could do to make it solid and graspable.

But still, the hollow socket Juno had been left with after that night always ached when he looked at Cecil.

Juno quickly stepped into a circle of the rich merchants who ran the banks of their capital city, subjecting himself to the most boring and vaguely sickening conversation just to get away from those eyes and that smile, the deranged potential future husband standing across the room, dressed like a murderous peacock.

The men, whose names Juno really should have known but couldn’t extend the mental effort to track them down, acknowledged him politely and congratulated him on his upcoming betrothal but immediately dismissed him afterwards. Juno was used to that, most of the queen’s important subjects, those who sat her various councils, saw him as less of a son and more of a colourful pet who’d been perched on her shoulder since he was born. Good for generating interesting gossip and very little else. It had always been the same, ever since he’d started shadowing the queen. They still looked at him like he was a prettily dressed toddler, made to be cooed over and complimented and indulged with gifts but nothing more.

Juno would wonder how his mother ever expected him to rule them after her death and then remember, depressingly, that of course she didn’t. She expected his spouse to do that.

He’d proven he couldn’t be trusted.

Speaking of which, the bankers were all well into their cups, carelessly dripping wine worth more than most of their workers would see in their lives onto the floor as they guffawed over their own cleverness. The smell of it, acrid and heady and so goddamn tempting, made the constant, prickling thirst in the back of Juno’s throat flare up even worse. He excused himself politely and quickly, to none of their notice.

Juno went into autopilot for a while, circling through a seemingly never ending parade of half familiar faces and identical conversations of no substance, fake smiles and laughs like puffs of cotton candy, sugary with nothing inside. While his facial muscles moved, his eyes scanned the room for Benten, catching glimpses of him occasionally, as ensnared in the net as he was. He knew tonight was too important for any of their games but it was still some small comfort to know his brother was just over there, going through the exact same hell he was.

After a while of this, his mind wandering behind his mask, a voice far closer and far more aware startled Juno into something more like being awake.

“Having fun, Your Majesty?”

Juno turned to see a smiling, well lined face, a sharp suit, a simple cocktail held lightly in one hand.

“Jack,” Juno relaxed a little, turning to face him so the two of them were a little ways apart by the table of desserts, as private as two people could be at a function like this, “Not exactly.”

“I can tell, son,” Lord Takano- Jack to Juno and Ben since they were little kids- chuckled wryly.  He must have seen the panic in Juno’s eye for he quickly added, “Only because I know you. Your mother will be none the wiser, you’re the image of a perfect princess.”

Juno gave a mirthless laugh at the irony of that, hand reaching automatically for a glass of champagne before drawing back, “Yipee for me.”

Jack’s seamed face softened in sympathy, “I know, kiddo. I know this night isn’t your idea and, believe me, your mother and I did everything we could to try and find another way…”

Juno didn’t doubt that. Lord Takano was the queen’s closest advisor and had been for as long as either of the twins could remember. He’d been by her side all through the war and had been the loudest, firmest voice in setting Harpyia back on its feet in the aftermath. Juno, also stuck in those seemingly endless, seemingly depressing meetings, was always glad that Jack was there. He was sometimes the only person in the room that spoke sense, with the way he always put the people of their planet first and prioritised things that seemed actually important like schools, healthcare and housing. On the very rare occasions Juno was allowed to open his mouth in those sessions, what came out was usually an agreement with whatever Jack had said. That often earned him a warm smile from the lord himself and a look from the queen that was hard to parse.

“I know you did,” Juno grunted, not meaning you both.

Jack’s smile turned fond, the kind Juno imagined from streams and stories that parents were supposed to look at their children, “I know you’ll do what’s right, kiddo. The whole planet’s proud of you.”

Juno thought viciously that he didn’t care about the planet being proud of him. He’d have settled for just one person on it in particular. Then he felt horribly guilty and chastised himself, turning his eye to the floor.

“Hey,” Jack gave him a smile, leaning in and opening one side of his jacket, pulling out an elaborately carved silver flask, and passing it to Juno, “Our little secret, eh? Your mother doesn’t have to know.”

Juno hesitated but after his eye glanced up to Jack’s, seeing warmth and the knowingness that he’d always respected, the one that had always reassured him, he reached out and took a lightning fast swig, chasing it with another. He didn’t even know what it was but it had a foggy burn to it that made him not care. It put some distance between him and the room.

“Thanks,” Juno returned it, feeling the loss as he made his fingers uncurl, “I needed that.”

“I’m your mother’s advisor and one day, god willing, I’ll be yours,” Jack grinned, “I’m very well practised at giving you Steels what you need. What do I always say, after all? It’s a fact…”

“I can count on Jack,” Juno finished, feeling a little silly parroting their childish mantra but it made him smile, “I’d better get back out there…”

“Of course,” Jack nodded, “Sensible, Juno, as always. Best of luck, kiddo.”

Juno gave a grunt that could have been a laugh in the right light, moving away with a macaron in hand in case anyone might wonder what they’d been doing over there for so long. Jack’s words echoed in his mind like they were a part of the thrumming music filling the ballroom.

Juno didn’t need luck. If he had a scrap of that, there would be some fantastical deus ex machina that would swoop in and pluck him out of this situation, freeing him from the current that was dragging him into a future he didn’t want, snipping the strands of the spider web that was holding him. And somehow manage it without dooming his planet to being pulled apart by greedy kingdoms or more war and splintering his family into the bargain. The best of luck would give him that, what he wanted but knew he couldn’t need.

Juno swallowed the lump in his throat and plunged back into the crowds, clinging to the taste of whatever had been in that flask.

“You’re dragging your feet, little monster.”

That was the only thing the queen said to him, whispered in a hiss to his left ear as she passed him by to another gaggle of cortiers, to smile graciously and tell them how proud she was of her dear princess.

And she was right, Juno knew that. They were an hour in and he hadn’t approached one of his suitors. In fact, he’d been actively circling away from any of them that came near, feeling like a pinball in one of those old arcade games, bounced from side to side in a colourful contraption, an instant away from getting hurtled off course at any moment. The ball was likely to last into the small, grey tinged hours of the morning, when the decorations had wilted to loose petals and the hangings pooling on the floor, but every moment counted tonight. And Juno was deliberately wasting those moments.

He stifled a sigh and tried to take stock of his options. Cecil was dancing with his twin sister, the two of them looking eerily beautiful and eerily identical. Marrying Cassandra wouldn’t have been so bad, Juno supposed, she didn’t have the sadistic streak her brother did. Just the baseline narcissism, psychosis and ruthlessness that came standard amongst the Kanagawas. If not for those five minutes that made Cecil the oldest and by law the heir to everything that came with the surname. Juno knew damn well how scant minutes between births could cause a hell of a lot of trouble.

Not that their stepmother wasn’t keeping her options open. Juno couldn’t help but notice she’d been sending Cassandra in his direction at previous balls similar to this one, going so far as to somehow get them locked in a closet together the last time he’d been forced into a stiff, awkward diplomatic meeting at their palace. Juno’s panic attack had soured the seven minutes in heaven mood somewhat, at least Cassandra had been apologetic.

There were a few more in the line up,l heirs from neighbouring planets rendered as exhausted by this life as Juno himself. Most of them with blank eyes, the telltale sign of normalcy being a paper thin mask, the person behind it just waiting for the next fix of whatever they drank, injected or snorted to help them put one foot in front of the other.

Juno knew far too much about that. Looking at them, picking out faces he knew from parties the queen certainly hadn’t sanctioned that he'd had to slip out of the castle to attend, Juno felt old guilt and shame stirring in his stomach. Suddenly the hard won distance he’d put between himself and his demons didn’t feel like all that far. It felt like it could be covered in a single step, every inch he’d struggled for could be lost so easily.

So Juno kept his distance from them as well.

Which left him with one option. The only option he knew he could never take.

“We should, uh, probably go dance, huh?”

He’d finally tracked him down when he was standing by the band, swaying lightly to the music. They were finally playing a song he liked. His own damn ball and they didn’t even let him choose the music.

Juno gave him a tired, wayn smile but nothing in it said he wasn’t happy to see him.

“I think we’d better. Nice to see you, Lord Mercury.”

Mick pulled a face, shifting from one foot to the other, “C’mon, cut it out or I’m going to call you ‘your majesty’ all night.”

“Don’t you dare,” Juno grunted, taking his hand and walking with him into the middle of the floor.

Juno could remember when he, Mick and Ben had all been of a height, before they selfishly grew when he didn’t and left him behind. Now he had to crane his neck to look into his eyes.

Bartholomew Mercury had grown in a lot of ways, since the three of them and the captain of the guard’s daughters had been best friends, playing in the gardens around the palace. The sudden loss of his father in the war, propelling him into suddenly being the head of the biggest, most powerful family on Harpyia at just twelve years old, now having to manage his family’s finances, their power and having to awkwardly court his best friend at the insisting of his board members, it had changed him. He wasn’t the kid who’d told his stories about the dangerous and fantastical and heroic exploits his father was surely getting up to on the battlefield, all of them enraptured.

In a perfect world, Mick would be the answer to all of Juno’s problems. A good, rich family with Harpyia’s best interests as their motivators, plenty of creds to refill their lacking coffers, a long standing reputation for loyalty and patriotism. They wouldn’t need to sell themselves to a bigger planet, they could build themselves stronger from within. And Mick had a good heart, if Juno could be selfish for a moment and want that in his spouse. He was a goof and lived with his head in some story he’d made up himself but he could make Juno laugh and they cared about each other, still in the fierce, unbreakable way that children did.

It would have been perfect. If Mick had the good sense to fall in love with the right twin.

It had been the little things, at first. The way Ben had looked at Mick as he’d tell his stories, like the rest of the world had fallen away apart from him. It was the way Mick would make excuses to sit in at the end of Ben’s dance lessons and watch with much the same expression. It had been annoying at first, when Juno was too young to know what it all really meant, just a way his best friends were excluding him. It had been hard, realising that there was someone his twin needed more than him, but Juno had quickly made it part of his job in their late teens. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d distracted some servant or even the queen, knowing Ben and Mick were in some compromising position behind the twins’ bedroom door.

That was back when it had been fun and games, just two young nobles feeling stifled by their lives and finding some small joy in each other, spiced with rebellion. Him and Juno swapping clothes in the middle of parties to give them an excuse to cuddle up, Mick stealing up through their bedroom window on nights where Juno made damn sure to ‘accidentally’ fall asleep in one of the guest rooms.

And then the time for games had run out, the reality they’d all been ignoring coming collapsing back in on them when Juno had come of age, half an hour before Benzaiten. Such a small amount of time to make so much difference.

But Juno still did everything he could to give the two their time together. It was the least he could do, after all.

Even now he could see Mick’s eyes looking past Juno’s face, snagging on something in the background while they chatted mildly, joshing each other back and forth. When they spinned with the swell in the music, Juno saw exactly what he expected to. His brother, standing and watching them, not at all listening to the socialite he was supposed to be talking to. His expression broke Juno’s heart clean in two. Soft and sad and miles away. And accepting.

If Juno asked, he knew Ben would say yes. He’d tried to start the conversation a few times, in that fuzzy hour as they both fell asleep in the beds they insisted on keeping no more than a few meters apart. But Juno had stopped him every time, sharper than he’d meant to but he just couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear his little brother, his bright, smiling brother who’d gotten him through the worst years of his life and deserved only good things, he couldn’t hear him, out loud, give up the man he loved, had loved since they were ten, to keep Juno safe.

Because Juno didn’t want to feel the part of him that would long to let it happen.

“Mick, go dance with my brother already,” Juno let his arms fall as the song faded, speaking below the babble of the voices around them, “You’ve done your time.”

Mick bit his lip, a very unlordly habit he’d not been able to shake, “Aw Jay, you know it isn’t like that…”

“I know what it’s like,” Juno shook his head, straightening Mick’s tie where he hadn’t got the knot quite right, “It’s okay...just make it last for him, yeah?”

Mick swallowed a sigh and kissed the back of Juno’s hand, “I will.”

Juno found another partner within a minute, he was the belle of the ball as it were. But, as cruel as he felt, his eyes never stayed on their face for more than a moment because they were watching Lord Mercury and the prince share their dance. It was known throughout the court that they were boyhood friends, of course it was only natural that they should dance together, laughing and smiling as two young men at a party would.

Only Juno saw how Mick’s hand would brush Benten’s cheek as they moved between holds, over the scar there from when he’d fallen from one of the curtain walls on a dare. He saw how Benten’s long, graceful fingers played with Mick’s dreads as they swayed. He saw the myriad of subtle, tender gestures that were all that they could give each other even when they were so close, hearts beating side by side. It was beautiful and tragic all at once.

Juno watched, seeing what everyone else missed, even with one eye less than everyone else in the room.

A dance could last a lifetime, if you lied to yourself enough.

An hour shy of midnight. The ball was still in full swing, no self respecting noble dared yawn before it was technically the next day. The drinks kept being refilled, the plates of tiny desserts replenished themselves whenever you looked away, like fairies were working behind the scenes to keep the tableau as exquisitely crafted as anything from a stream or, hell, even a child’s picture book. This was a marathon of decadence, not a sprint.

Decadence Juno knew full well Harpyia couldn’t afford. Every meringue done up to look like a perfect cloud, every drop of wine rich as summer, was more gold that didn’t exist in the vaults. The queen may expect him to sleepwalk through the council meetings but Juno had long ago perfected the art of looking utterly bored while his eye missed nothing. Splendour was expensive but not nearly so much as war. The system wide conflict, the one that barely had anything to do with any soul on Harpyia, had taken great, greedy bites out of their creds, their resources, their populace. Larger planets with more corrupt governance could bear it quite easily but Harpyia was outer rim which meant small, beautiful and fragile. Not that this was spoken about, certainly not outside of the council chamber, but Juno could pick from the crowd who was really in the know by the vaguest hint of anxiety behind every sip of wine and every bite.

And in the way they looked at him, the formerly wayward princess who was going to save them all by lying down, opening his legs and keeping his mouth shut. As the night wore on, the jewellery that had been laid out beside his dress that evening, the bangles and cuffed earrings and strings of gold around his neck, started to feel like chains under those glances. The tiara, the one the eldest Steel child had been wearing for centuries, felt like a cage around his head. They could almost have been dragging on the floor as he tried to stand to the side and take a breath. Long, golden chains arching up into the ceiling and disappearing into shadows, someone unseen at the other end. His mother, the queen, the two sides of Sarah Steel that he often forgot was one person? Lord Takano, with his confidential smiles, playing at being his father from a safe distance, always with a flask on hand? The centuries of Steels who had come before him, all wearing that damned tiara, stretching back to when Harpyia was just a rock floating in space, content never to know the touch of human feet on its surface?

Or someone beyond even them?

Suddenly, all too fast, it was hard to breathe. Juno cursed silently, taking a seat on one of the long, satin pillowed benches that edged the hall. He bent his head as low as he could, under the guise of fixing a heel on his shoe, trying to breathe slowly.

Why did it have to happen like this, hitting him like a brick wall so he had no chance, like a sudden current grabbing his ankle and yanking him below the surface. It had always been like this when he would drink, feeling so loose and free one instant and his heart hammering against his ribs the next. Like he’d just stumbled wrong and fallen badly but there was no steadying himself.

Benten, where was Ben? Juno didn’t dare lift his head to look, just in case someone saw the panic on his face, the tears building in his eye. He couldn’t let them see, that would be the worst thing he could imagine, worse than if he’d drank three bottles of champagne himself and danced on the band’s stage. The off the rails princess narrative had been at least acceptable when he was younger, at least it had entertained the gossip streams for a while, but if any of them saw the very real cracks behind the dresses and the lipstick, the scars they couldn’t spin or monetize, then they would really be in trouble.

They’re all counting on you, he tried to tell himself to force himself to calm down, Ben, Mother, Jack, they’re all counting on you, all of them.

But it only made his lungs clench harder.

Juno could feel shadows creeping in around his already tilted vision, a taste like the gin in Jack’s flask but sharper, more metallic. He’d tried to sit apart but soon they’d hear, they’d hear his ragged breathing, whistling between his clenched teeth. They’d hear and they’d see and they’d know and everything would come crumbling down, everything he said he was caving in on itself like spun sugar. Pretty, sweet and utterly useless.

They’re counting on you, on you and if you mess up, if you ruin it, when you ruin it…

“Ma’am? Excuse me, are you alright?”

Juno thought he’d imagined it at first, how could there be a voice he didn’t know at this party? They were all the queen’s courtiers and servants, people he’d known all his life, suitors who had been circling since he came of age. How could there be a single voice he couldn’t place? A queen must know her subjects, he’d always been told that, he was good with faces and voices and names.

Juno looked up, remembering too late that he couldn’t let anyone see him like this, whether he knew their voice or not. But his face was so kind, too kind to look away, the way you couldn’t look away from a fire when you were cold down to your bones. He was young, Juno’s age, his eyes bright and alive in a way no noble born kid’s had ever been, his hair dark and looking impossibly soft. And he was smiling, gently curious, gently worried.

“Are you alright?” he prompted again, his voice softly accented in a way Juno couldn’t place.

“Yes,” Juno said quickly, realising how unconvincing it sounded, “Thank you, just…”

What could he say? Tired? Desperate for a drink? Ready to rip this ridiculous dress off at the skirt so his legs were free to run?

“Overwhelmed?” the man provided gently, lifting an eyebrow.

Juno swallowed hard but there was no judgement in the stranger’s gaze, “Yes...I suppose that would do.”

“We could step outside for a moment?” he offered, “Get some fresh air? It’s rather a lot in here, I do agree.”

Juno frowned, trying to make sense of this with his already exhausted mind. Didn’t he know? How was that even possible, how did anyone set foot on the palace grounds, hell on this planet, and not know who he was?

“I don’t know…”

His eye darted around the ballroom, quickly, not wanting to catch the attention of anyone else. The queen was dancing with Lord Takano, their faces warm with old friendship but Juno could tell at a glance they were in some kind of disagreement behind those smiles, a silent argument was taking place. They’d been fighting a lot lately. Benzaiten was carrying two drinks over to where Lord Mercury stood, chatting away to Sasha with his usual goofy smile, Sasha probably in the middle of exasperatedly explaining that she was supposed to be on duty tonight and couldn’t stop to chat. Cecil Kanagawa was talking to a pretty socialite whose expression was falling into poorly concealed disgust and fright at the exact same rate as he grew more animated and enthused.

He wouldn’t be missed for a minute. Just a minute, to breathe and settle himself again. Already he amassed excuses for the queen. He was preventing a bigger disaster, he was in the bathroom, he was integrating himself with this stranger, hadn’t she told him to win people to their side?

“You have some lovely gardens around this palace,” the man in question smiled, “Perhaps you’d like to show me them? If you have the time of course. I would hate to keep such a beautiful lady from his admirers.”

Juno felt his cheeks get hot at that, in a pleasant way. This man was exactly the type of person he’d try and snag at a party back in the day, tall and well dressed and a sharp smile. He’d been denied every other small pleasure tonight, every escape, why let them take this one too?

And he liked a mystery.

“I’d be happy to,” Juno stood before he could change his mind, making his stranger quickly straighten and step back, though not too far, “Just for a moment.”

He smiled, showing teeth that were more pointed than could be natural. Was he a journalist, new enough on the scene that he wasn’t included in Sasha’s dossiers yet? He certainly had the smile of someone who knew more than they should.

Juno took the offered arm, feeling very expensive silk with costly detailed embroidery. Far too nice for a gossip hungry shutterbug. He made for the large door but Juno shook his head silently and wove them a different way, one where they were less likely to be seen, slipping out from behind a curtain into a library, through the stacks to a much simpler iron door that led right out into the topiary.

“An impressive disappearance, ma’am,” the man smiled crookedly, eyes twinkling now there was moonlight to be caught in them, “Have I made off with tonight’s entertainment? The best magician in the solar system?”

He did know, Juno decided, smirking. But he was happy to play along, things would be so much easier if they were both strangers.

“Perhaps you have,” he shrugged, making his jewellery ring loud in the empty garden, “You should be flattered, I don’t often perform for private audiences.”

“Oh, my dear,” there was that smile again, sharp and almost hungry, “Just having you out here with me is flattering.”

Whoever he was, he flirted better than anyone Juno had ever met. His cheeks were getting warmer by the second.  

He did show him the gardens, they were something of a pride of the palace, it was boasted that they were the only gardens even more beautiful by night than by day. The flowers that grew here were all native to Harpyia, carrying the natural bioluminescence that seemed inherent to their flora. The glow on their bare skin shifted between blue, green, pale yellow and a starlight white as they moved between the beds that hugged the winding paths. The scent was light, not overwhelming but pervasive, it would cling to their skin for hours after. Juno told him everything he remembered about them, everything he’d read in a book or picked up by osmosis when he was running through them carelessly as a child, bothering the gardeners.

“Incredible…” his stranger breathed, the awe on his face clearly not an act.

“Wow,” Juno chuckled, “You really aren’t from here, are you?”

The smile that won him made the hair on his arms stand up, “I’m from nowhere, my dear. And this planet certainly isn’t nowhere.”

“No,” Juno agreed, eye flickering back to the facade of the palace, sharply lit by flood lights so the soft biological glow didn’t touch it, “No, it isn’t.”

He felt his stranger’s eyes on him, like he could tease out what was behind those words with a glance.

Juno quickly cleared his throat and pinned his smile back into place, “There’s a little grove just up here, it’s a nice place to sit.”

“Lead the way, my dear.”

It was a cosy, secluded area and the stranger certainly wasn’t the first pretty face Juno had brought there. It was all encased in a grand, natural archway of the climbing, ivy like plant of blue glowing leaves with five points like how a child would imagine the stars. The butterflies that made Harpyia famous would nest here more that anywhere else in the garden, wanting the shade and the peace as much as their princess seemed to. Sitting on the ivory bench at it’s centre had always made Juno feel like a decorative bird in one of those grand, old fashioned cages. Especially now, in this get up with all the gold and gems and the flowing skirts and the attachment at the back that was basically a cape for fancy people.

“Beautiful,” the stranger murmured, again unable to hide how genuine his delight was.

Juno had to admit it was nice to see Harpyia through his dark eyes, not in the least because it gave him an excuse to look at them. But it reminded him that there were beautiful things about this palace and that helped his lungs open up and his heart slow down.

“We have a folk tale,” he explained, voice soft in the dim light, “It says the butterflies are gifts from an ancient king to make our planet beautiful and our people happy.”

“I can see why,” the stranger smiled, turning to look at him.

Juno realised he wore very little jewellery, just a simple cuff and chain on one ear and a bracelet of large links on one wrist. His clothing was expensive but the ornamentation was minimal, far more than a grand ball at the palace would expect. What made him seem so sure, so confident, more of a lord than anyone else on that dancefloor, was all in his face. Not in the paint on his lips or kohl on his eyes, it was in the way he carried himself. The way he smiled. Like he knew exactly where he was and where he needed to go after this moment.

Juno was so gripped with envy that, for a moment, he could taste it.

“What do I call you?” he asked, that instant of sourness making him want to press more, “I can’t very well keep calling you the stranger from nowhere.”

“Why not?” his companion smiled, “It has a certain mysterious ring to it... but I see your point. Call me Rex Glass, my dear, and we shall get along just fine.”

“Rex, huh?” Juno arched his eyebrow at that, not believing for a moment that it was the name he was born with, “What does that mean?”

He smiled knowingly, “Not all names have histories stretching back centuries. Some names are just sounds. Signifiers.”

Juno gave a grunt of assent, turning his eye up to the canopy of flowers. The night sky could just barely be seen through them, patches in a quilt. Scatterings of tiny dots that could be raging balls of gas or long dead rocks shrouded in deadly cloaks of radiation or even other planets where other people went about their lives and made their own choices. They all had names, names they’d been given or names they’d chosen themselves. Some names would have history, but a softer, kinder, familial history that didn’t feel like a weight around their necks. A name that wasn’t a prize others competed for. A name that wouldn’t mean they had to sell themselves in a wash of pomp and luxury, calling it tradition.

“Dear? Are you sure you’re alright?”

The tear had reached his jaw before Juno even realised it was there. He struggled with feeling things around his eyes sometimes, remnants of the old damage.

“Yeah,” Juno quickly wiped it away before it could beckon friends, “Just...what was the word you used, Rex? Overwhelmed? That’s it.”

“I must admit,” he seemed to be choosing his words carefully, “I’ve never had a ballroom full of people force me to get engaged. But it doesn’t take a lot of imagination to see it would be unpleasant. And overwhelming.”

“Not pretending you don’t know me anymore, huh?” Juno smiled sadly, mourning quietly for his false anonymity.

“I don’t know you,” Rex insisted, “Knowing your name and knowing you’re a princess does not equal knowing who you are, knowing your heart.”

Juno looked over at him, confused by that at first, the way you would be if something you’d always wanted to hear had just been plucked from your mind and said aloud. You’d feel a guilty responsibility for its presence in the real world.

“What if that’s the only good thing about me?” Juno joked thinly, trying to throw up the same shields he always had, only now seeing how thin they were, “The only thing people could now and still tolerate me?”

Rex frowned a little, “I don’t think that’s true, Juno Steel. Not from what I’ve seen in only half an hour.”

“We’ve been out here for half an hour?” Juno nearly shrieked, latching onto that because it was easier than everything else, “The queen’s going to kill me, she’ll have noticed by now…how does she not have half the guard out looking for me…”

Rex had a soft expression of regret as he put a hand on Juno’s shoulder, the touch warmer than it ought to be in the cool night air, “You can go back if you’d like, Juno, but I mean it. I think the only reason you worry there’s nothing to you other than your crown is because no one’s ever really asked. But I’m here, I’m asking. I want to know.”

Juno felt like a light had come on above the surface of the water he was submerged in, finally showing him which way to kick. But could he reach it? Did he have the energy to try?

But it would be nice to pretend.

Intending it just to last a moment, Juno leaned in, inviting Rex to come the rest of the way. And he did, eagerly enough to make his heart kick. His lips were as soft as he’d thought they’d be from the moment he saw them and he found himself hoping there’d be a trace of his lipstick lingering when he moved away. Which he should have done by now. That had been the plan, a brief, sweet thing he could think about later when he was in bed, then run back to the ballroom and do everything he could do to calm the storm that would be waiting for him.

But it was so nice. It was so achingly sweet and simple in a way nothing had been for as long as Juno could remember. Rex kissed him like nothing else would ever be as important, like there were no unanswered questions between them, like this pure delight could go on and on forever even after the kiss had to end.

Juno leaned closer, bringing a hand up to rest lightly on Rex’s cheek, thumb stroking against those sharp cheekbones. Rex’s hands moved in answer, one hand slipping around Juno’s waist, pulled tight by the corset of his dress, hand splaying over the curve of him under the billowing silk, drawing him close. The shrinking, unoccupied part of Juno’s mind noted that this was moving beyond the realm of chaste kisses in the garden, edging up the royal scale of scandalousness if anyone stumbled upon them. But he found it very hard to care, especially when Rex moaned and those sharp teeth grazed Juno’s lower lip, when he pulled him close until their chests were pressed flush against each other, silk whispering against silk.

Juno smirked against his stranger’s lips. So he wouldn’t be the only one in trouble.

Eventually they had to stop, both panting, noses close enough the bump into each other, making them giggle breathlessly.

“My, my,” Rex exhaled and his breath smelled of mint, “I believe my first guess was correct. You, my dear, are simply magic.”

Juno grinned, not moving away just yet, heart beating in his chest like bird wings, “Now who’s flattering?”

Rex laughed, the hand on his ass squeezing lightly, shamelessly, “Always me. Was that enough to convince you to stay, dear heart? Now I want to know you even more…”

“Well you can’t stick around too long either,” Juno murmured, resting his forehead against Glass’s, “Not with half of the queen’s jewellery box in those hidden pockets of yours.”

Juno had to admit, for someone who’d been underestimated almost consistently since he could walk, it was damn satisfying to feel Rex Glass stiffen in shock against him.

“Ah…” his voice was surprisingly smooth, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear…”

Juno chuckled dryly and slipped his hand into Rex’s jacket. It was pretty clever and could only be handmade, sewn so cunningly you’d never know what was there. Unless he was pulling you close and kissing you.

Juno didn’t recognise the necklace he withdrew, the queen had so many jewels it would have been impossible to keep track of them all. But all of them would have that gold seal pressed into them, on the latch or the chain or even worked into the design for the days she was feeling ostentatious. On this one it was small, set into one of the pearls, the butterfly that was the crest of their house.

“Not exactly the wisest move,” Juno hummed, drawing away and passing the necklace through his fingers, toying with it the way the queen had let them do when they were toddlers. On her good days at least, “Unless you’re taking them far off planet where someone won’t know that symbol. Or if you’re gonna melt them down. Which one were you planning?”

Rex did seem to be a gentleman through and through, accepting graciously when he was caught out, “Both, actually. I was going to take them into the Solar planets and break them into smaller pieces that could then be passed off as antiques.”

“Smart,” Juno nodded, “I mean, you’d have to be. I know how good our security is, one of my best friends works in it and I do listen in all those meetings the queen thinks I sleepwalk through. How did you come up with an ID good enough to fool our systems?”

He smiled then, “Well, I’m hardly going to reveal all my secrets on the first date, am I?”

“Cute,” Juno grunted, handing him back the necklace, hands shaking softly as he did so, “I guess you were going to go for the crown jewels next, huh? They’re on display in the ballroom. Taking them in front of all those eyes should be a breeze for you, Rex.”

“I wouldn’t blame your guard so harshly,” he allowed, “This night has been a long time in the works. Though…” he looked down at the necklace, “I fear you’ve lost me?”

“You think I’m gonna stop you?” Juno arched an eyebrow, feeling acid in the back of his throat, “My mother has enough jewellery on her person right now to feed every hungry child in our capital, let alone what’s in her bedroom. And those crown jewels? Stolen centuries ago from the indigenous aliens that lived here before it was settled. They’re not ours. I couldn’t care less whether you take them.”

Rex was clearly deciding whether or not to believe him, clearly he wasn’t used to his plans going awry but was trying to make the best of things.

And Juno couldn’t stop now, the words were coming out like oil bubbling up from beneath the ground, “It’s all a big fucking game, isn’t it? Let’s play at being kings and queens like all the old Earth storybooks, making the exact same mistakes they made without even tasting the irony. Let’s dress up our princess, paste make up over his scars, paint over his depression with gold and silk and trot him out for the highest bidder so we can scrape together just enough to refill our vaults so we can keep on getting gout, stabbing each other in the back and looking the other way while our children overdose on designer drugs just to feel alive, for another hundred years. And then maybe, just maybe, he gets to grow up and sit in the big fancy chair, looking beautiful and wondering where his humanity went, just like me.”

His voice, cracking with anger and guilt and despair he hadn’t realised was building up, echoed off the shining faux stars that arched above them, making them shudder slightly, as if in grief. The butterflies shifted and stirred, wings fluttering in fear. But the words went no further, thankfully caught in the greenery. The flowers would keep safe his truths, the ones he’d never dared say out loud.

“Juno…” Rex murmured, he hadn’t taken his arm from around his waist, “Juno, dear, it’s alright…”

Juno gave a bitter laugh and shook his head, not even knowing where to start with how wrong he was. He reached up and took the tiara from his hair, the spun gold and otherworldly diamonds tugging painfully as if they were trying to cling on. But he got them free.

“Here,” he muttered bleakly, holding it out to Rex, “Take this too. I mean, you were probably planning on it anyway. I guess that’s why you took me out here, to flirt and flatter the gullible princess and rob him blind while he was still reeling? Not bad. You are a clever thief.”

“Juno,” Rex breathed, not moving to take the tiara, “I know I have no right to ask you to believe a word I say but, please. That is not why I approached you. I brought you out here because you looked like you needed it and...and I wanted to help. I know that sounds completely preposterous coming from me but it’s the truth. And, if it’s any proof to you at all, I will not take your tiara.”

It was the truth. Juno had spent enough of his time around people built entirely out of falsehoods to know that taste of something real, the way the water would taste slightly different on another planet or the air felt fresher after rain.

“You might as well,” Juno didn’t pull back his hand, “I hate the damn thing. Consider it a gift.”

Rex sighed softly and looked from side to side. Something in his face had changed, Juno realised, something subtle and hard to pin down but he could see it now in this light. He looked less sure of himself, wary, odd that he hadn’t up until now when he was planning one of the most ambitious jewel heists in Harpyia’s history.

But now he looked like he was taking a real risk.

“How about this…” Rex put his hands gently over Juno’s and took the tiara. He moved away and placed it between them on the bench where it shone with the bioluminescence, “Let us say I did mean to take this beautiful piece from you but, rendered careless by your beauty and that wonderful kiss we shared, I forgot it here. Now…if it is still here in an hour, when I realise my foolish error, I will take it back and steal away, never to be seen again on Harpyia.”

Juno nodded, biting his lip.

“However,” Rex lifted his eyes to Juno’s, “Say you find it first and take it back with you. I cannot leave this planet without such a lovely thing, of course I can’t. If it was gone then...I’d have to come back for it another night, wouldn’t I? And...on that night, maybe I would steal something far more valuable. If he wished to be stolen, of course.”

Juno inhaled in the softest gasp as he realised what Rex was saying, what he was suggesting, “Rex…”

“Don’t call me that,” he pleaded gently, rising up, “Not now. Call me...call me Peter Nureyev. An orphan from a small, battered planet much like this one who is trying to make something of himself. And who would gladly take on a partner.”

“Peter Nureyev,” Juno murmured, to feel the words on his lips. That was his real name, there was no doubt about it. He suddenly felt as if he’d been given a very precious gift.

The stranger, this Peter Nureyev smiled and bowed his head slightly, “Juno Steel. I am an expert on disappearances and I am offering you a ticket on one. I understand what you’d be leaving behind and I understand if the consequences are too great. But...I want you to see what you are worthy of, Juno. I want you to watch as someone truly sees you, for everything you are beneath that crown, and wants this for you.”

“I...I don’t know if I can…” Juno felt old excuses, old fears press up his throat, “And there’s no time, I’m supposed to be betrothed by the end of the night…”

“Then don’t take it, dear,” Nureyev said gently, “This is a choice. I feel it’s high time you got one of those.”

A choice. A chance to choose another one of those faces he saw at the bottom of his champagne glass. A chance to wear a name as lightly as Peter Nureyev did, to feel so free. To not feel the golden fetters around his ankles, tugging him into a life he didn’t want.

At such a high price.

“I’ll think about it,” he murmured, wiping away the last of his tears.

Nureyev nodded and smiled, leaning in and kissing him softly on the lips before saying, “Then goodnight, Juno Steel.”

Juno breathed in the scent of other planets, the scent of fresh, clean air and rain speckled earth, “Goodnight, Peter Nureyev.”

He straightened up, flashed those fox-like teeth and walked away into the shadows of the garden. Juno felt a flash of worry for him, there were guards all around the palace but he told himself he would have a plan to escape. Of course he would.

And he had left Juno with one too.

He lingered in the garden far longer than he should have, looking at his tiara, resting slightly crookedly on the bench, looking fragile and beautiful. He sat until goosebumps rose on his bare arms, possibilities blooming and dying behind his eyes, a hundred arguments raging inside his head.

And then he heard them, footsteps in the gravel.

“There you are,” Benzaiten was breathing heavily, “God, Juno, mother nearly called off the ball, she’s in there right now crushing macarons to dust so she doesn’t scream in front of everyone. She’s so mad, Juno…”

“I know, Ben, I’m sorry,” Juno stood, smoothing his skirts, “I just needed some air and I lost track of time. I’ll go see her now.”

Guilt and sorrow flickered over his brother’s face, “I...I don’t have to tell her I saw you…”

“No,” he took his hand and squeezed it, “It’s time I went back. Not like she’s going to get any less mad. I’m just sorry you had to tear yourself away from Mick.”

“Juno…” Ben groaned, blushing as he’d known he would.

He chuckled, nudging him with an elbow, “Come on. Any last words for me before mother tears me to shreds?”

“Not funny,” Ben walked closer to him than he needed to as they started back towards the palace, their hands still joined. Though just before they stepped back into the golden glow of the lights, he stopped them, “...oh, wait.”

“Hm?” Juno looked over as his brother reached up to the top of his head and brushed a few curls, neatening his hair with deft hands.

“There. Your tiara was crooked.”

[reiddidactic]

“It’s always been you.”-Spencer Reid

TW:mentions of blood, and perceived death.

I had grown a custom to being in the background, that just comes with the territory of being in the B team of the BAU. What you thought all of those files Hotch, now Emily, spend all night looking over we’re solved by the magnificent eight? There’s a whole other team of profilers that live in the bullpen too, I am one of them. Today started out as nothing special, nothing spectacular. With my car parked in its usual spot and my hands fulleith my go bag, keys, badge, phone, and a tray full of assorted coffees I make my way to the elevator.

“You know bringing him coffee everyday isn’t going to make him love you” I hear the familiar voice of our technical analyst Garcia giggle as I step on to the elevator our floor already lit up.

“It’s the thought that counts Pen,” I huff attempting to tuck my phone and keys away without dropping one of the many things in my hands, “I can always pretend that one day it will”

She rolls her eyes at me, “besides the rest of your team might get jealous, and think you’re trying to leave them”

I laugh, “yeah right, my chances of being on the A team are long gone.”

We step off and make our way to the glass doors where we usually part ways, for most of the day.Except for today. As Garcia so lovingly put it today I have restarted trying to express my feelings through coffee, now I do wonder off towards my desk to put my things away but pull a coffe cup from the tray and write his name on it, quickly and sneakily walking towards Doctor Spencer Reid’s desk to drop off my gift to him, before retreating to my desk watch for the rest of his team to arrive so I can see the look on his face when he gets his mostly likely second cup of coffee for the morning. I wait mildly impatiently for them to come in one by one. First is Emily, then Luke and Matt, followed shortly by Rossi and JJ. Usually he’s here by now just as the worry starts to settle in, in walks his tall somewhat lanky figure. Brown curls so disheveled but also so neatly styled like his goal is bed headed curls. I watch him walk to his desk and set his things down before he turns and gives me that small smile of thanks as he picks up his cup. This becomes our reoccurring form of communication for the next few weeks.

After landing back in Quantico after an exceptionally difficult case I make a b-line straight to my desk hoping to bury myself in as much paperwork as humanly and inhumanly possible. A small post it note on my computer stops me from doing just that.

“I got you a gift after I heard about St. Louis, I figured you would bury yourself in work-“Spencer I smile and look down to my keyboard and a black box with a lilac colored ribbon tied around into a bow rests, with a second post it note reading “modern issues call for modern solutions” also in Spencer’s handwriting I open the box to find a pair of prescription blue light glasses, and briefly remember Spencer warning me that all of my computer usage could be the cause of my poor sleeping habits. I look up from my desk just in time to catch Spencer flashing me a smile from the glass window of the round table conference room.

Over a decade I’ve spent pining over this man, from our time together in the academy, to watching him go through the worst times of his life, all the while seeming to have taken the backseat in his life were I once was a huge part of it. Around the six year mark I decided it was better to be his in his life as a backseat friend then to press him for nothing more. I’ve watched all of his budding romances and wished to be the one that made him smile, made him feel normal and loved, but I know my role, I’m not the main character of this story he is.

Leaving that night I never would have thought someone would be so bold as to plant a car bomb in the vehicle of a B team agents car but I guess I was grossly wrong. Because as Spencer and I walk out of the elevator and down the rows of cars, hearing nothing but the beeping of a car alarm alerting that the doors had been locked or unlocked. A blast knocks us both on our backs. My ears ringing from the sound alone my head throbbing from hitting the concrete floor. I sit up watching through blurry vision as agent Cooper screams hurriedly trying to put out the fire covering most of his leg. Seeing the remains of his car engulfed in flames I turn to look for Spencer who had been right next to me. There he lays unmoving, but gasping for air. I rush to him as fast as my concussed body will allow.

“Spence?” I call trying to get him to respond, “hey you’re gonna be okay.” Trying to comfort him as I scan his body for what caused his sudden inability to breathe correctly.

“I’m sorry” he says through gasps for air and I focus on the pained expression on his face.

Ignoring his apology I brush his hair from his face repeat my now mantra, “You’re gonna be okay” seeing the pieces of shrapnel laying near him and the small but steady stream of blood leaving his abdomen from the piece of metal in his side, a part of me doesn’t even believe myself.

“Spencer you are going to be okay, help is coming you just need to stay with me” I force out grabbing his hand.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it out of this one kid” he smiled weakly at the pet name I’ve never outgrown. I shake my head causing more throbbing, “I’ve never said thank for the coffee every morning, or told you-” he coughs causing more pain and blood to flow from him “-how much you actually mean to me, all this time it’s been you”

“What do you mean?” I ask tears beginning to blur my vision even more, if he’s saying his peace now he won’t fight to stay alive long enough for someone anyone to help him.

“From the day we first started with the team, when you found out we weren’t assigned to the same team, I’ve loved you. But I never did anything about it” he groans reaching out for me I grab his hand, “I’ve been an awful friend, I’ve been mean to you, I let you let me make you my emotional punching bag, and you don’t deserve that”

I can’t bring myself to saying anything other than, “You don’t get to decide that, you have nothing be be sorry for” as tears stream down my face he continues.

“When my team used to make jokes about your team, I never stood up for you, I even went along with it, I said that you’re team was practically asking for all the losses that you took, you’re not only a better profiler than me, but a better person, you would never do the things I’ve done.” He almost smiles

“What do you mean?”

“All these years I’ve lied to myself about how I feel about you, and I searched for you in everyone I’ve ever loved or thought I’ve loved” he pauses only to cough some more before continuing, “JJ because being around her was easy, she always made it easy to talk to her about anything, she was like a replacement best friend for you, Maeve she was the one that was the closest to you, she understood me like you do, she made me feel like you did when we spoke. Always happy to hear my voice. Max, she made me feel normal, and loved. B-but if you put together all of their best qualities and the things that made me think that I was truly in love with them it makes you.”

By now I’m hysterical but the sound of someone running pulls my gaze from him as I was paramedics and the rest of our teams running from the opposite side of the parking garage fills me with hope that he will make it out of here.

“Spencer helps coming I just need you to stay with me, and maybe stop talking so you can save your strength” I cry he lets go of my hand to run his fingers through my long curly hair before resting his palm on my cheek.

“I don’t think I’m go in to get out of this one kid. But I need you to know that it’s you. It’s always been you” with a small smile he drops his hand from my face as the paramedics reach us and immediately start taking Spencer’s vital signs and radioing back to the ambulance, that it’s all clear to come in and to have the hospital ready on stand by; and I am numb as they begin chest compressions because he’s stopped breathing on his own. I am sobbing and broken as they start moving him to the stretcher quickly wheeling him back to the ambulance..

Three days in the hospital and I can finally go home, in theory, I instead go to see Spencer. Garcia told me he was awake yesterday. I get dressed and make my way down to his room, he is awake. I stand in the doorway for a minute before walking in further.

“Hey, I thought you were never going to come,” Spencer smiles at me.

“What happened to I’m not going to make it out of this kid?” I smile back.

“I didn’t think I was going to,” he says patting the spot next to him on the bed. I move to sit next him and he pulls me into his side, “I am happy to see you’re okay”

“Okay? I thought you were going die, couple that with literally not being able to hear how you were doing,-” he stops me by pressing his lips to mine, brushing my hair behind my ear resting his hand on my cheek. I pull back,

“You can’t fix this by kissing me you know” I smile,

“It’s a start, though” he returns the smile and I rest my forehead on his, “I love you”

“I love you more”

[dc41896]

And The Award Goes To...

After seeing this suit AND this walk, I had to come up with something lol

Pairing: Chris Evans x Black Reader

Warnings: None

“Well thank you for speaking with us and good luck tonight!,” the interviewer, Zuri, smiled, opening her arms to give you a hug which you gladly accepted.

The way your nerves were right about now, you felt like you could use a million of them and would take one from anyone offering.

Being escorted down the red carpet, your emerald green, satin dress seemed to reflect the sun rays the way it shined with every step you took in your gold, strappy stilettos. With simple spaghetti straps and a v-neck, the material clung to you from your chest to mid thigh where the left side split open down to just above your polished toes to show your leg, equally shining thanks to Rihanna’s Fenty Body Lava and you’re hydrated melanin. Photographers call out for you to stop for pictures as the sounds of cameras clicking and flashing lights seem to come in waves.

“I don’t think I’d ever get used to this,” your best friend, Hazel, whispers to you as you both pose for a few pictures.

“I’m not used to it either, this is just my first award show,” you answer as you resume your walk down the remainder of the carpet to the inside of the building.

“First of many though! Trust me, you just getting started girl.”

Being called the breakout star of the summer, you hoped that more roles and invitations to award shows were to come. Ever since you were young, you always dreamed of accepting an Oscar or a Golden Globe, and yes even practiced your speech in front of your parents, which they of course recorded and tended to bring out whenever they wanted to reminisce on your childhood.

In all honesty though, yea the accolades were amazing and you wanted them, but if they didn’t come you’d still be ok. You loved acting and to be able to do what you loved every day was all that mattered.

Waiting for everything to start, you sat at your table talking with your director and a couple of your other cast mates, as well as took selfies with Hazel. Looking at the picture, you see a blurry, yet familiar figure in the background prompting you to turn around to see if you were truly correct in your thinking.

Sure enough, you were and began quietly freaking out.

In what looked to be a chocolate brown, velvet suit with a white button down shirt and black bow tie, there stood Chris Evans looking as amazing as ever and currently walking pass your table to get to his. You never though you’d be hypnotized by a walk, but here you were openly gawking and wishing his table was across the room so he’d have to do the movement a bit longer.

“Dang Cap, bring that walk this way,” Hazel speaks, pulling out her phone to record him walking away.

“Put your phone down creeper,” you laugh lightly smacking her arm.

“Takes one to know one Miss let me openly stare at my celebrity crush and his booty.”

———

“Looks like your award is next!” Hazel softly squeals lightly shaking your arm. “I wonder who’s presenting for it?”

As if hearing her question, the announcer introduces Chris as he walks out smiling with card in hand.

“Whoaa that’s crazy!! You could receive your award from THE Chris Evans!,” she gasps. You managed to keep it together as the camera panned to you, softly smiling and being gently nudged by your director making you giggle.

On the inside though, you were a nervous wreck. You were already worried about falling if you had to walk to the stage, but now you had to worry about literally falling in front of Chris and never being able to show your face again due to embarrassment.

“And the winner for best actress in a comedic performance is...Y/F/N Y/L/N!,” he reveals causing everyone to applaud and your table to go crazy. Quickly hugging the rest of your friends seated next to you, you slightly lift the un-split side of your dress so it won’t potentially get caught on your heels as you walk.

“Welp here we go,” you thought to yourself, making your way up the stairs. Being the gentleman that he was, Chris met you halfway up the steps offering his hand to help you the rest of the way.

“Congratulations!,” he sweetly whispers handing you the figurine, which surprisingly had a good amount of weight to it.

“I’m really gonna try not to cry right now but chances are I will so I apologize in advanced for that,” you start, causing a small amount of soft laughs to erupt in the room.

“First off, I want to thank God because he blessed me with this opportunity, and I want to thank my parents who sadly aren’t here because of the flu but I know y’all are watching and I love you!”

“I also want to thank my friends both old and new, my director James, the cast and crew, and everyone else in my life that’s supported me and helped me in any way whether small or large. Ok I’m gonna go backstage now and cry and hope you all have a good night!,” you finish with a small wave as you turn away from the mic, applause behind you as you make your way off the stage followed by Chris.

“That was a really nice speech,” he says, now beside you.

“Really? Thanks! I feel like I sounded like a rambling mess.”

“You might’ve felt that way, but I assure you, that’s not how it sounded,” he replies.

“Y/N! Congrats on the award! We need you to come this way for another short interview with the press,” a tall, slender man with glasses interrupts smiling as bright as the camera flashes coming from the room where the interview was to take place.

“Well I um guess I’ll see you later. Congrats again!,” Chris smiles.

“Thanks and yea see you later!,” you reply smiling as he walks away to return to his seat.

“Yep this definitely will take some getting used to,” you thought, walking into what felt like a sea of cameras and questions.

———

“Tonight has been surreal!! Just being here in midst of everything, you winning, AND getting said award from Chris Evans!!! If I were you I’d be dead right now,” Hazel says grabbing a glass of champagne off one of the trays being carried by servers.

“I know!! I feel like none of this is real and I’m gonna wake up any moment.”

“Well it is real and I’ll even pinch you to show you if needed. Or better yet we can get your new bestie Mr. Evans to do it.”

“He is not my new bestie, and I definitely would not ask him or anyone to pinch me,” you laugh sipping from your glass.

“Whoa pinching? What kind of party is this?,” you hear from behind you causing both you and Hazel to choke on your drinks.

You from utter shock and disbelief he heard that, and her from laughing at your reaction.

“Chris! Hi! Um sorry about that I-,”

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s ok. Also if you did ask me, that’d certainly be a first,” he laughs.

“Um Chris this is my best friend Hazel,” you introduce as the two shake hands.

“Nice to meet you Hazel. And this is my brother Scott, Scott this is Hazel and Y/N,” he responds to which Scott shakes both of your hands and congratulates you on your award. “The answer is probably obvious, but how’s your night?”

“Amazing! I don’t want this night to end!,” Hazel excitedly answers causing you all to laugh.

“I agree it’s amazing, but I don’t think everything’s set in yet. And this probably will sound weird but I feel like Cinderella and as soon as the clock strikes 12, I go back to normal.”

“No it’s not weird at all, like you said everything is kinda unbelievable and it’s still a bit shocking. I totally understand,” Chris lightly nods before drinking from the beer bottle in his hand. “Also can I add that I love that movie.”

“Same! She’s not my favorite princess though, but I still love the movie.”

“Who’s your favorite then?,” he asks, leaning on the table with his elbow.

“I have two. Overall, it’s Tiana but for the songs it’s Ariel,” you answer.

“Can you believe? 2 grown adults going on about Disney movies like kids,” Scott whispers to Hazel, to which she nods agreeing with him.

“You should see her on the weekends. When she’s bored, she watches videos about all the rides, parades, and stuff in all the Disney parks,” she adds, lightly laughing along with Scott at you and Chris’ excited expressions as you guys continue on with your conversation.

“Hey you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we head to the bar and let the Disney fanatics enjoy their time together?,” Hazel answers as Scott links his arm with hers.

“Exactly!”

“I have the feeling this is the start of a beautiful friendship,” she smiles holding up her glass as he clinks his with hers.

“And hopefully a beautiful relationship between those two,” he adds as they reach the bar.

“Wait? How did you know Y/N likes Chris?”

“She does?! I didn’t know at all, Chris kept talking about her at our table during the show and when we saw you guys here I suggested he go talk to her.”

“If they end up getting married, I’m expecting a shout out for the both of us for getting them together,” Hazel replies making Scott laugh as they cheers once again.

———

“So Y/N, the people need to know, how was your conversation with America’s golden boy?!,” Hazel asks joining you on the couch, plate full of waffles, eggs, and fruit in one hand as she holds out her fork pretending it’s a mic to your face.

“Girl you need to relax!,” you laugh lightly pushing her fork away. “But it was good, I mean he’s super friendly and we like a lot of the same things.”

“Yea Scott and I heard a bit of your conversation and let me say if there was a couples Disney jeopardy game, you guys would more than likely win.”

“Hey don’t judge us, it’s not our fault that’s something we like,” you laugh. “He said how he goes to Disneyland pretty much every year and said that I should come along-,”

“Umm say what now?!?! He invited you to Disneyland?!?!!!!,” she interrupts after momentarily choking on a piece of egg.

“I wouldn’t call it an invitation really. It’s like when you’re talking to someone about a nail place you go to and say how they should try it out sometime. Plus it was after I said I hadn’t gone since I was a teenager.”

“Either way you got invited by a guy who’s interested in you to Disneyland, which is a dream date of yours!!”

“Just because he was nice to me doesn’t mean he’s interested Hazel,” you reply taking a bite out of your omelette.

“Well let’s just say an EXTREMELY close source, aka his brother, confirmed that Mr. Evans was definitely into you and checking you out the whole award show,” she squealed.

Now was your turn to choke on your food.

“Really?,” you ask pulling yourself together. “He didn’t try to get my number or anything though so maybe it was just a ‘she’s pretty’ type like versus an ‘I really want to get to know her’ like.”

“I don’t think so, but we’ll see. Even still though he definitely invited you to Disney and you better take him up on that offer or I’ll smack you then go in your place!,” Hazel adds, picking up your now empty plates to put them in the sink.

“Noted,” you laugh now looking at the messages on my our phone. Of course there were the usual ‘congratulations!’ from family members, your team, and your other co stars who were unable to come to the show.

Although he was there, your director even messaged you telling you congratulations again on your award followed by one of the sweetest message you’d ever recieved saying how much he appreciated you on set and that you were surely about to change the acting game.

Y/N: Aww James, I was trying not to cry today lol!!! ❤️😭😭 that was so sweet and I thank you so much for giving me this chance that has surely changed my life forever!

😎Bond, James Bond🎥: You’re so welcome love and deserve it😘! Also I have some news...

Y/N: Ohh another project you want me to be in?? Wait I don’t have to give the award back do I👀?

😎 Bond, James Bond🎥: Lmao no not yet and no it’s yours🤣🤣. The news is a certain someone who you were talking to ALL night asked me for your number and I wanted to ask you first before I gave it out just to be sure

Y/N: 😳😳😳🤯

😎Bond, James Bond🎥: Mhmm 😏😏

Y/N: Lol yea it’s fine you can give it to him

😎Bond, James Bond🎥: Done! Have fun you two 😉😂!

You expected that he was probably busy and you’d more than likely hear from him later. However the running theme of your life recently seemed to be how nothing turned out how you expected.

???: Hey Y/N! It’s Chris

???: That is Chris from last night, in case you know another Chris lol

“Oh my gosh he’s such an adorable dork!,” Hazel gushes from over your shoulder, making you jump.

“Can I have some space ma’am?!”

“Oh sorry,” she innocently smiles going towards her bedroom. “If you need me, just call!”

Shaking your head as she exits, you turn your attention back to the screen in your hands and hoping that you don’t make a fool of yourself.

Y/N: Hey😊! And can honestly say I don’t know any other Chris’ lol

Chris: Lol ok good. I mean not that other Chris’ are bad or anything. Looking back at it, I should’ve just left it at “Chris from last night” my bad 🤦🏼‍♂️

Y/N: 🤣🤣 it’s ok. Exactly how many drinks did you have last night?

Chris:😶....lets just say I’m not totally hungover, but my head is hurting a bit 😂

Hearing you laugh to yourself from downstairs, Hazel contently sighs before turning on her laptop as she plops down on her bed.

“Yep, I can hear the wedding bells and thank you speech now,” she speaks to herself as she smiles.

A/N: So this turned out longer than I expected and not gonna lie, kinda didn’t know where I wanted to go with it by the time I got in the middle of it😓 lol but hopefully you guys like it!

Taglist: @crushed-pink-petals @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @fumbling-fanfics @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @nina-sj @itshinothey @wildfirecracker

If you want to be added to the taglist, have asked to be added and don’t see your name, or only want to be tagged for certain people I write for just let me know 🤓!

[sweetness47]

Pinky Promise

Pairing Bucky x reader

This is a late present for @sherrybaby14​ 😊 Happy Birthday Sweetie <3 . There are some flashback moments in italics, part of the background story.

Warnings: some underage smut-ish stuff, smut, some fluff, language, child abandonment, child kidnapping, parental rejection dark moments, etc… MATURE 18+ READERS ONLY!!! DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU!!!

Summary: You and Bucky grew up as neighbours, you always watched each other’s backs, always defended the other. Both of you were close with Steve as well. But it was Bucky who was particularly close to you.

Five years old, Kindergarten

A shy YN entered the classroom, clinging to the skirt her mother wore. She didn’t want to stay here, there were too many people. And they all looked super scary.

“Mama, I want to go home!” she pleaded.

“You will be fine sweetie, promise. I’ll come back in a couple of hours to get you, ok? You’ll have lots of fun.”

The teacher, Mrs. Bird, came over. “You must be YN. I’m Mrs. Bird. There’s some dolls over here, I can show them to you if you like.”

The teacher held out her hand, and YN looked at her, then looked more closely at the room. Toys filled all the corners, there were dolls, toy cars, building blocks, coloring books. Slowly, more out of curiosity, she took Mrs. Bird’s hand and together they went over to where other girls were playing with dolls and clothes. YN’s mother took that opportunity to sneak away, thankful for the distraction the teacher had provided.

She knelt down, finding a blonde hair baby to play with. She took some dresses and began trying them on her, then another girl came and snatched the doll away.

“My doll.”

“No! I had it first!” YN yelled back.

“Too bad.” The other girl sneered at YN and pushed her.

“I think that girl had the doll first. Give it back to her.”

Both girls turned to a young boy. “Buzz off kid.” The other girl turned to ignore him.

The boy took the doll, and gave it back to YN. The teacher came over, and pulled the other girl aside to talk about her manners.

YN looked at the boy who had now sat down beside her. “Thank you. I’m YN.”

“My name is James.” The boy said, holding his hand out for her to shake.

She did. “This your first day?” she asked.

James nodded. “You?”

“Yeah.”

He turned to her. “Wanna be best friends?”

“Sure.” She replied.

“Here.” He held out his pinky finger. “Let’s pinky promise. We will always be friends, always help each other, always.”

She connected her pinky with his. “I like that promise.”

Her mind wandered, away from the pain, away from the nightmares. The memory, if that’s what it was, was nice, a good distraction. Where was this? When?

The conditioning resumed. Tears fell from her eyes as her mind took her away again.

16 Years Old, High School

“You gotta be kidding Buck. No way. Uh uh. I am not wearing heels that high. Nope. Not happening.”

“C’mon YN, they will look really good with the gown.” He pleaded.

YN turned to Steve. “Are you gonna let him rag on me like that?”

“Leave it Buck. She doesn’t have to wear the shoes. They are a bit high. You don’t want your prom date to end up on crutches do you?” he said to his friend.

“Fine.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “It was only a suggestion.” He placed a chaste kiss on YN’s forehead. “No one’s going to notice the shoes anyways, they will be too busy staring at the dress.”

Steve laughed and nodded. “True enough.”

“You guys are going to make me blush.” YN chimed in as she did a fancy twirl. The gown she’d picked off the rack was perfect size. The blue satin moved gracefully around her, making her shiver when material brushed against her skin. It was a halter top design, the low V accentuating her breasts. Small beads adorned the waistline, giving the illusion of a belt, and completing the delicate piece of clothing. “This is definitely the one.”

“I have to agree.” Bucky came over to stand beside her. Steve joined as well. “You look stunning.”

She blushed furiously, and went back to the change room. Bucky paid for the dress and made arrangements to get it shipped to her house.

Bucky had been right in suggesting everyone’s eyes would be glued to the dress. YN always dressed plain, not wanting to stand out, yet here she was, the most beautifully dressed tonight. How had she let Bucky talk her into this? Her mind screamed at her to run, seek safety of her home, but her heart was right where she wanted to be, with James “Bucky” Barnes.

Her eyes flitted open, the room was blurry. She watched as people walked around, whispering amongst themselves, all kinds of tubes and needles everywhere. Her body was strapped down, helpless…she didn’t know what or where she was, she wasn’t even sure anymore who she was. The conditioning resumed as one of the fuzzy figures injected something into her IV.

16 years old, Graduation

The party lasted well into the night. James took Steve home, then drove YN back to her place. “I love you Buck.”

The words surprised them both. Yeah, they’d been dating for a while, but neither had actually said the words…till now. Bucky leaned over to kiss her, his lips soft, inviting YN to open hers. He moaned as his tongue found hers, dancing together in the heat. “I love you too, YN.”

The kiss deepened, Bucky reaching to hike up her skirt, while YN worked at undoing his belt and pants. Truthfully, they hadn’t planned to go far, but neither wanted to stop. It felt right. YN lifted her hips as Bucky slid off her underwear, then moved his hands to cup her mound. She was soft, wet with desire for this man. He slipped a finger inside, and she gave a soft cry as her body adjusted to the invasion. Then he moved it, slowly, covering her passionate pleas with bruising kisses.

His hand then left, and he moved her to lay on the seat of the car. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

Always the gentleman, she thought to herself. “Yes.”

Bucky nodded, and in one swift moment, he was in, thrusting past the barrier of her innocence. Tears stung her eyes, but she smiled up at him. His look of concern was heartwarming, so she gave a nod of assurance that indeed she was ok. He moved then, pulling out then pushing back in. YN experienced her first orgasm, the explosion sending unimaginable pleasure through her.

“Bucky! Oh god…”

He moved faster, spurred by her response, and YN found herself wrapping her legs around his waist. He was all muscle and pure sin. And he was hers. He came shortly after, spilling his seed inside her, collapsing on top of her. Both were panting and sweaty, but neither regretted that night.

“Her conditioning is complete. She is ready for testing.”

“Well done Dr. Let’s see what she can do.”

YN looked at the room she now found herself in. She was no longer strapped down, no tubes attached to her arms, and she was fully clothed. The suit was light, breathable, and allowed her to move with ease.

Two soldiers came in, no guns, but stood ready to strike. YN looked almost bored.

Until they moved to attack her.

It was almost too fast to see with the human eye, the way she grabbed the arm of the first soldier, tearing it from his body, then gouging his eyes out. The second soldier wrapped his arms around her, trying to contain and limit her movement, but she took both hands and grabbed his head from behind. She pulled him over her, and punched a hole in his chest, literally, pulling out his heart and smashing it on the ground.

All that took about 20 seconds.

She stayed there, waiting for instructions. The Doctor and the other man came in to the room. The man looked her over. “Hail Hydra!” he saluted her.

“Hail Hydra!” she replied.

Yes. She was ready.

~~

Steve looked at his friend in wide disbelief. “No way. She was too smart to have ever been captured by Hydra.”

Bucky stared right back. “She wasn’t, originally. She was like me. A victim of circumstance. I wouldn’t lie about this Steve. You know me. You know how I felt about her. You honestly think I would make shit like that up?”

“It’s entirely possible that this YN could have fallen victim to the same circumstances as James.” Natasha interjected.

“Maybe, but if that’s the case, who knows what kind of conditioning she’s been through. And would we even be able to get her back?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders at Steve. “You got me back Rogers. Don’t you think she deserves that chance too?”

Cap sighed. “True enough. But it’s going to be tough getting past the defenses. Hydra’s pretty well fortified.”

~~

Black Scorpion. That’s what they called her now.

Her old name and old life a distant memory, fading farther as the days went by. She no longer heard the name YN. No longer did anyone treat her with anything but respect and indifference. They were probably scared of her. She was the best weapon they’d ever made. Even better than the Winter Soldier had been. She was flawless.

They had used an improved version of the Super Soldier Serum. Superior to any used before. Her skin was impenetrable now, she had no need of bullet proof garments. Knives were useless as well. She was the perfect killing machine.

It was based on nanite technology, tiny microscopic robots that had integrated with her DNA, bonding with her blood, giving her instant healing and armour.

She’d been part of Hydra’s experiments for decades. YN was given the original Super Serum to preserve her life, then they worked on perfecting it, and her.

The Black Scorpion lived true to the name, the perfect Hydra operative. She never missed a target, never botched a mission, never failed…period.

She’d encountered the Avengers a few times, but her mask shrouded them from making any kind of headway as to her identity. When not working, she remained inside the base, she had no need for food or sleep, so she trained, meditated, and trained more.

Those Hydra soldiers who weren’t scared of her tried to get her into their beds, but were unsuccessful. She had no need of such activities, and she certainly wasn’t going to engage in them with those losers.

There were times where, if she did close her eyes, she would have flashes of what seemed to be dreams, images of a child and others like her, playing together. Visions of going to school, eating at diners, plagued her.

But there was one that haunted her most of all.

It was a boy, well the first images were a young boy, but they were friends, then more than friends, then…well that’s where it usually ended. She could never see anything beyond that. And while she no longer had emotion or knew anything other than what was current, the images continued to appear, eventually even happening while she was awake. It never affected her missions, and no one was ever aware this was happening. She never told a soul.

Her outside façade never showed anything but the calm, cool, collected Black Scorpion. Her mind struggled between the conditioning and the flashes of this boy. She had to find out who he was, and why she was dreaming of him. But she didn’t have any security clearance for the computers that occupied the rooms. So she had little to help her in her quest, but was determined none-the-less.

~~

“You’re absolutely sure this is where she’d be?”

“I’m sure.”

Nat stood by Bucky. “I believe you. Let’s get your friend.”

Steve sighed. “Ok. But, stealth? Please?” He looked specifically at Bucky first, who rolled his eyes, then at Natasha.

“Duh.” Nat stuck her tongue out at Cap, who shook his head.

Bucky scoured the area, counting the guards and gathering intel, including the easiest way in. He found it: a service tunnel that lead to a secluded grove of pines. The electrical building was there. It was a perfect place to sneak inside and get to YN.

But their stealth was no match for a certain Hydra operative who happened to be watching the fields, desperately trying to find a way into the computer systems, hoping it had some intel on her past. The flashes and images were becoming more frequent, and it terrified her, she who had no emotion, who’s humanity had been stripped away by decades of brainwashing.

She didn’t alert any of the other soldiers. There was no need for anyone else. She had taken on these people before, and could easily do so again. Donning her mask, she made her way quickly to the service tunnel she saw them heading toward. Her plan…take them out…permanently.

She hid in the shadows of the first corner, listening for the anticipated footsteps.

Bucky was the first down, followed by Nat and then Cap. The tunnel was dimly lit, but manageable. There were no guards down there, it was just the opposite, an eerie quiet filled the long hallways. Bucky’s senses were on high alert, as were the other two. They moved cautiously down the passage, listening for anything.

Almost too late, Bucky caught a very faint intake of breath from around the corner, just before Black Scorpion came charging at them. The three Avengers scattered, avoiding the long sword flying in their direction.

“There will be no escape this time. You will all fall to Hydra!”

“Not in this century, bitch.” This from Widow, who took out her own baton to combat with.

Her laugh sent chills down their spines. “Your imaginary feats of escape and heroism are small, and will ultimately lead to your demise.” She scoffed. “Why would only three of you come here? Do you have a need to die so quick?”

“We’re looking for a friend of ours.”

Scorpion turned to the famed Soldier. “We don’t have any of Shield’s agents in our cells, though you are welcome to become prisoners.”

“She isn’t a Shield agent. She is a friend. From our childhood. Her name is YN. YFN YLN.”

Scorpion stopped, staring at Captain America. Then her eyes floated over to the man beside him. Dark hair, scruffy, but the eyes…blue as the sky on a clear day. It couldn’t be. The boy from her visions was Hydra’s traitor?

Bucky caught the confusion in Scorpion’s eyes. “Please. If you know where she is, tell us. I love her. I always have, always will.”

Scorpion couldn’t speak. She had to retreat, clear her head. She turned to flee, but Bucky’s swift motions caught her attempt, grabbing her arm and swinging her around. The force of the movement caused her mask to fly off, leaving two speechless Avengers.

The object of the mission was standing right in front of them.

Nat snuck around while Scorpion was preoccupied and gave her enough sedative to knock out a tyrannosaurus. Her stinger was made with a metal alloy not of this world, able to penetrate anything, even Cap’s shield. The perfect weapon that was Black Scorpion slid slowly to the ground, her eyes never leaving the Winter Soldier’s.

~~

 17 Years Old

Her period never came. It was due two weeks ago. She smiled to herself. Bucky would be thrilled when she told him. They were going to have a baby. She knew she was young, but they would make it work. He already had a good job. They could get a small place somewhere, settle down, get married.

The only other thing she had to do was tell her parents. They were good role models, loving, caring. She couldn’t not say anything. This was going to be their grandchild. They would surely be happy, right?

“Mom? Dad? Can we talk?” she approached them after dinner.

“Sure honey. What’s wrong?” her mother coaxed, motioning for YN to sit on the sofa beside her.

YN bit her lip and looked down at her lap for a moment. “I’m pregnant.”

There, she’d said it. Now all she had to do was wait for the shouts of joy, the hugs.

But they never came.

Instead, her father stood from his chair. “What?”

Her mother looked horrified. “You’re pregnant? Who…?” she stopped. “It’s that boy, James something. Isn’t it? What did he do? Did he force you? Is that what happened?”

YN shook her head. “No. Nothing like that! James and I love each other. He’s going to marry me, and we’re going to be a family.”

The hard slap echoed through the room, tears stinging the reddening cheek on YN’s face. “You slut! How could you shame us like that? Your parents! We loved you, cared for you, and this is how you repay us? You ungrateful little girl. Go to your room, NOW!”

YN ran up the stairs to her room, slamming the door and flinging herself onto her bed. Never, in her 17 years, had her mom and dad ever hit her. That hurt almost as much as the actual slap. Possibly more. Why wouldn’t they be happy? It wasn’t like James was going to abandon her. They had to know that, right?

She cried herself to sleep. When she finally woke, she was greeted with a splitting headache, and the realization that she wasn’t at her home. In fact, she was pretty sure she wasn’t in the same city. Where was she? How did she get here?

She wandered around, the dark alley producing frightening shadows, hints of danger lurked everywhere. She walked to and fro, up and down the streets of the foreign town, hoping this was just some bad nightmare. But no luck. After hours of aimless searching, the pregnant teen sat on a nearby park bench, shivering, crying uncontrollably, praying for a miracle.

~~

Her eyes flew open, immediately tensing as she glanced around the white room. She was in some kind of hospital room, or infirmary. Same thing. But what, why…Her mind reeled over what she could remember, which wasn’t much at first. Scared and confused, she hopped off the bed, only to be met with one kickback of a dizzy spell. She collapsed, shaking, as her weak limbs struggled to get up off the cold cement. The nanites that were inside her had gone dormant, sleeping while she slept. They would get her back up in a few minutes, but that wasn’t the biggest concern.

Numerous flashes of different scenarios crossed her mind: murder, fighting, killing people…then children playing, laughing…

The boy with the blue eyes.

She was unaware that someone had entered the room. Strong arms lifted her off the floor, gently placing her back into the comfort of the bed. Those same blue eyes met hers, concern etched across his beautiful face.

“You ok?” his voice was just as sinful as the rest of him. She nodded. “What do you remember?”

She shook her head. “I…I’m not really sure. There’s so many chopped up images in my head right now, it might as well be an entire theatre of movies times 50.”

He chuckled. “Do you remember your name?”

“Bla…” she paused, “No, it…it’s YN.” Her eyes widened. “Buck?”

Bucky let out a huge sigh of relief. “Yeah doll, it’s me.”

YN began to frown, which was quickly replaced with tears of remorse. “Oh god…Buck, I’m so sorry. I…”

He gathered her into his strong embrace. “Shhh, don’t apologize. It wasn’t you YN. It was Hydra.”

She held up her hand. “No, Bucky, please let me finish.” He stopped, facing her. “I never wanted to leave you. I wasn’t given a choice.”

He leaned back. “What are you talking about? You wrote me a letter saying you were going to college. You wanted to remain just friends. I stopped hearing from you, eventually, and I joined the army.”

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t go away to college Buck. My parents sent me away.”

His features darkened. “Why?”

“Because I was pregnant. We were going to have a baby.”

His jaw dropped. His voice barely a whisper, “What?”

“They were so mad, telling me I had shamed them. I went to my room and cried myself to sleep. When I woke, I was in a strange town, no other clothes than what I wore, no money, no note, no goodbye. Nothing. They abandoned me.”

The metal hand curled into a fist. “Those bastards. Why didn’t you contact me?”

“I couldn’t. I had no way to do anything like that. I was almost starved to death when this couple came by and saw me alone on the park bench. I hadn’t eaten or drank anything for 2 days at that point. They offered me a place to stay, and I accepted. That was my first encounter with Hydra.”

“It was too good an offer to pass up at the time. I was scared, pregnant and alone…and I was hungry. I didn’t know much about them beyond what they told me. I told them about the baby, and they appeared even more concerned. So they took me in and gave me a new home. They helped me go shopping for clothes for the child, a cradle, everything I would need. They seemed to live a simple life, no phones or anything. They bought whatever I needed or wanted, so I never had any need for an allowance or a job.”

“When the baby started to come, the couple rushed me to a special ‘hospital’ where I could have ‘the best care’ possible. We had a son Buck. But then everything went downhill. I wasn’t even given a chance to hold him. He was taken from the room and I never saw him again. That’s when they started experimenting on me. They gave me the Super Soldier serum to keep me from aging while they worked to perfect it. They did outside trials too, hence Captain America and you, but it was my body they used as their test subject. While I was under, they had subliminal messages playing, conditioning to make me forget who I was. This went on for decades.”

Bucky listened in horror, his stomach threatening to heave his recent meal. He couldn’t believe those assholes had done this to her. To his YN. “God, YN. I never knew.”

“I know. I don’t blame you. I would have contacted you if I knew how, or had the tools to do so.” She bit her lip. “But our son is out there now. They are probably raising him, training him right from birth that Hydra is his life. We have to find him.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “We will. Promise. But right now, you need to rest.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

She smiled. “Pinky promise?”

“Always.”