#like he panics about a million thinks but he never doubts that he has found his person

[vianbarnes]

my buddie going canon ideal scenario and why it could happen before eddie fully realises he’s gay

i’ve been cooking up this scenario for a while now but before going into it i wanna clarify that i don’t think eddie’s homosexuality is tied to buck and just that. i could write a full essay about eddie’s queerness without even mentioning buck. HOWEVER i do think buck could be the key to eddie’s discovery, the last puzzle piece that makes it all make sense.

narratively speaking, i think it could be interesting to see buck and eddie get to the same conclusion (that they’re in love with each other) but in the complete opposite way. while for buck it’s oh shit i’m bi > oh shit i’m in love with eddie, for eddie it would be oh shit i’m in love with buck > oh shit i’m gay. and obviously eddie is starting his own journey just now, so he might realise he’s gay and then it could click for him that all he’s been looking for was there all along, but i do think that - since this is a tv show - it would be interesting to offer a different side of the story to the audience. and yes i know that buck’s queerness and eddie’s queerness are very different already, but i’m specifically referring to their storylines leading up to buddie. (also this is just a personal side note but i think i would be lowkey crazy to have both of them realise they’re queer and still not understand their feelings for each other, like i know they’re dumb and dumber but c’mon!!!)

ok so now let’s put on the tinfoil hat

we literally know nothing about what’s gonna happen in the next episodes so i don’t have any solid theory on how we could get to this scenario. some of the interviews were teasing some potential tension (or angst even) between buck and eddie so my brain took this information and ran with it. a lot of us were also theorising a nde for buck, for eddie or for both of them at the same time and that could also be the setup for what i’m thinking.

but first let’s analyse where buck and eddie are right now (and in the upcoming episodes)

buck was just broken up with so now he’s trying to explore his sexuality and understand it more. it feels like the search for “his last” has just started and he’s excited to look at relationships and love through a new lens, but he also might feel a little discouraged that he has to do it all over again. he might be thinking “now that i have all these new possibilities, why is it still so hard to find my person?” (average bisexual experience i will tell you that much).

eddie on the other hand is slowly trying to forgive himself and love himself, accepting joy and not pushing away his desires and needs. allowing himself to feel certain feelings and just let go. he’s taking small steps to show up for himself just like he does for his loved ones every day (we still don’t know how far they’re gonna go with his story so the next episodes are definitely gonna be interesting)

so, with all that being said, here’s how buddie could go canon:

it’s late and buck shows up at eddie’s house. they’re in the kitchen drinking a beer, both leaning on the counter and not looking at each other at first. something has happened between them that they need to clear up (could be an argument, a fight or some very important words exchanged when they thought they were about to lose the other).

as much as i love a “because i love you!!” screamed during an argument, i don’t see that happening in this scenario. i imagine them having the softest, most honest and open conversation where they lay it all out - without even realising what they’re doing. at some point, buck is gonna say something that will make it finally click for eddie. if it’s an argument he could say something like “i need you in my life”/“i want you in my life forever”, or if this happens after a nde he could say “i can’t imagine my life without you”/“i don’t know how i could live without you” (i’m not a writer but you get the gist lol)

and that’s when eddie finally allows himself to feel what deep down he’s been feeling for years, and so he leans over and kisses buck. the kiss is pretty short: eddie pulls away almost immediately, as if his body was possessed by something and he just snapped out of it. buck can’t believe what just happened, but it takes him just a few seconds to realise and to grab eddie’s face and kiss him back. they start making out, they go out of frame, the screen turns black, the episode is over.

now let’s talk about the aftermath of the kiss. because if we know 911 we know that this goddamn show can’t let people just be happy so of course there’s gonna be some angst and miscommunication.

after the kiss, they don’t really talk about it. they might even get interrupted by something else (maybe eddie has to go to texas to get chris back?) so they have to postpone the what the fuck just happened conversation. and that’s when both of them start to spiral, but for different reasons. buck of course thinks that eddie’s distance means that he regretted the kiss, that they got caught up in the moment but that he doesn’t feel that way about him and he basically ruined their friendship. eddie is also freaking the fuck out: he’s panicking about how they could make their relationship work, how they could tell christopher, he’s questioning literally his whole life and past relationships like oh my god have i been gay this whole fucking time??, he’s worried about their jobs, how they’re gonna tell bobby and the others. basically questioning everything but buck.

being the idiots that they are, they’re gonna convince themselves that the other regretted everything and they’re gonna avoid each other and never have that much needed conversation. the 118 obviously notices that something is off, but no one knows what it is. until hen and eddie finally talk and he tells her everything: what happened, what made him panic and doubt everything and what’s stopping him from talking to buck. hen is shocked but not necessarily surprised. her and karen look at eachother (yes karen is there too because of eddiekaren bestfriendism that is very real to me) and then hen says something like “i don’t have the answers to all of these questions, but i’m sure of one thing: you love him and he loves you. you can figure out the rest together. go talk to him” (i think it would be nice for eddie to have this conversation with henren as a couple, since his biggest fears and concerns are about how they could make the relationship work)

eddie feels like he just woke up from a 20+ year long sleep. he runs out of hen’s place, hurrying to his car, and from now i’m picturing a full romcom montage with him just fighting for his life to get to buck’s apartment: traffic, construction work so he has to take a detour, his shirt is drenched in sweat so he has to go back home to change because surely he can’t show up at buck’s looking like that. once he gets home, he sprints to his room to find a new shirt (maybe he puts on too much cologne - the one buck likes - and he has to change again. just because it would be fun to see him in distress). he fixes his hair for the 100th time, grabs his keys, finally opens the front door and stops in disbelief. buck is on his doorstep, hand mid-air about to knock. they look at each other and in that moment they just know. they both lean in and go for the kiss aaand BUDDIE CANON !!!! (+ the buck at eddie’s door parallel finally having the romcom resolution it always meant to have)

of course i have no clue how we could get there, but i do feel like it would be true to the show if they didn’t immediately get together and if there was some angst between them. i hope that once they get together they won’t try to break them up (even just temporarily) so they might have to go through some shit at the very beginning of their relationship for that to happen.

alright tinfoil hat OFF folks. i always try to stay consistent to the show and only come up with theories that i could truly see being developed and i don’t think any of this is unrealistic. buuut i’m still a clown so who knows. quite frankly i’m fine with buddie canon either way (as long as their first kiss is initiated by eddie and it happens in his kitchen <3)

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 16 LOVERBOY #1 & #2

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | sexual innuendos, swearing, mentions of sleepwalking

NOTES | written cut ahead!! followed by more smau slides :) jaemin redemption arc is about to be in full swing but trust that does not mean sunshine lollipops and rainbows for our girly y/n also I'm actually a sucker for dystopian movies, like the maze runner trilogy??? 🙏🙏🙏🙏 i feel like I've watched every dystopian movie out there but if anyone has any recs send them throughhh or just to geek over the movies then my inbox is open 😭‼️

Minjun was nothing short of everything to y/n.

When she woke up to find him gone, her front door ajar, she felt the room close in on her. Her heart raced like a runaway train and panic gripped her chest. In no less than a few seconds, beads of sweat formed over her forehead, her breaths shallow and rapid.

She had rushed out of the apartment in a frenzy, calling out his name like her life depended on it. Constricted for air, her body ran on autopilot, down the dimly lit hallway and then down the stairs to search each floor the same way she had searched her own. To no avail. With each step her stomach churned further, sinking, overwhelming. The feeling of nausea ran deeper, stronger, her heartbeat beginning to sound in her ears. Loud and so painfully unforgiving.

She couldn't lose him. Not now, not like this.

Every noise seemed amplified, every shadow morphed into a lurking threat. She felt trapped in a whirlwind of far too many emotions she couldn't recognise. Her mind had become a storm of what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. Time seemed to slow down as her panic escalated, consuming her every thought and sense.

Where could he be?

Useless, she felt so utterly useless. She had raced a thousand times, millions of laps of the track during practise and yet when it really mattered, she couldn't find her feet moving fast enough, she couldn't run with the same speed no matter how hard she urged herself to. Her life was on the line, her everything, and her attenpts seemed futile as she raced up the stairs again, across each floor and down again, over and over. How could she have been so careless?

Her pants grew in their depth, the lack of oxygen getting to her brain and causing her vision to blurr— mixed with the tears that overcame her vision, y/n was struggling to keep going.

She couldn't breathe.

Her legs threatened to give way beneath her and yet the determination that coursed through her veins wouldn't relent.

There was no way she would give up without finding him. She wouldn't be able to live with herself. Her motivation, her happiness, her reminder to keep going and keep trying, Minjun had been every single one of those things and more, her family, her best friend, so utterly irreplaceable that she already felt the hole within her heart widening.

Circles. She felt like she was running in circles, searching the same corners of the same floors she had already looked over a hundred times, desperation evident in her frantic movements, worry painting her features.

It had been 20 minutes and she hadn't found him, not a single sign of him— she'd lost him. She was so sure. He was gone and it was all her fault.

Y/n had given up on far too many things in life, but if there was one thing she knew she couldn't give up on, it was him. Minjun was her purpose, in every meaning of the word. She could give up on herself, but she could never give up on him.

She forced herself to think, though her thoughts had become slow, foggy as she repeated the words in her head, think y/n think.

Where could he have possibly gone?

When she finally arrived on the 7th floor again, ready to search her apartment, considering the small chance he may have returned, y/n felt her heart drop. The feeling of inadequacy overcame her being— unable to stand her body found the floor.

And the feeling of relief, though present was so agonisingly fleeting that she couldn't push herself any further.

There he was, sleeping peacefully in Jay's arms, safe and sound. The Park let his eyes land on y/n, sleepy gaze softening at her panicked state. desperately wanting to ask if she was okay but not knowing how to.

He was barely conscious himself, struggling to make sense of the situation in front of him. All he knew was that he'd found Minjun banging against his door no less than a few seconds ago. The traces of slumber were still visible in his squinted eyes and messy hair.

He couldnt find himself to care, not when she was like this.

"Y/n what hapenned?" his voice was hoarse, but soothing, "are you okay?"

The words rested at the tip of her tongue but she couldn't bring herself to speak, shaking her head. She took ragged breaths and gasps for air, a broken eyed stare on the younger boy, her hand clasped across her mouth for the fear of waking him.

Jay found himself conflicted, at an inner battle with himself, not wanting to leave the girl in this state for even a second, but not wanting to wake the sleeping boy in his arms either.

"He sleepwalks" was all she could breathe out, her voice cracking sharply. How he had made it out of the front door in the first place, she had no idea. It had never been this bad, but she knew it was no excuse. If only she had been more careful, none of this would have ever hapenned.

Jay's mouth fell open, finally piecing together the information as he crouched down beside her, cradling her head in his free arm, rested against his chest

Her tears flowed so incessantly, pained and burning against her cheeks, the bitter feeling of guilt caught in her throat, heavy. Shoulder slumped as her body rested against the railings of the staircase behind her, her soft cries echoing throughout the empty space, loud enough for the door opposite to swing open to reveal a concerned, but equally as confused jaemin.

"I've got her" jaemin said, immediately letting his arms wrap around her, rubbing small circles against the small of her back, her tears soaking through his shirt. And though hesitant, Jay nodded, earning a puzzled look from jaemin when he stepped into y/n's apartment to tuck minjun back into bed.

But that was the least of jaemin's worries when y/n, the girl he had always seen so strong, unbreakable in fact, now shook in his hold, suddenly seeming so fragile.

"It's okay peach, I've got you, let it all out"

Something about his voice, his presence, something about that moment washed over her like a gentle wave, soothing the knots of worry that had twisted tight within her. And though nothing could negate the pain, the disappointment and the thoughts of self doubt playing in her mind like a broken record, his hold had offered her worlds of comfort. Even if for a second, y/n felt the weight lift off her shoulders and her racing heartbeat began to settle.

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[swallowedbymadness]

「 ✦ so good at being bad ✦ 」

Pairing: dom!wooyoung x sub!fem!reader

Genre: ⛓️ smutty smut smuttttttt ⛓️

Summary: Wooyoung surprises you with a pretty little gift one night.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: I HAVE RETURNED FROM THE DEPTHS OF COLLEGE HELL. Not really bc spring semester just started. BUT. I am here with some plotless smut for you. If you’ve read my writing before, you know I love a good romance. But honestly, this video has been rotting my brain for a solid month and it has inspired this little fic. 🫠 also I firmly believe we need more dom woo bc he gives off this vibe at times and it’s not praised enough. You cannot change my mind.

18+ content, so please, minors DNI. Enjoy! 🤍

Warnings: bdsm - restraints, collar (called a choker for the most part), pet names (fr - baby & darling), a tiny bit of throat grabbing, and jung wooyoung bc he himself is a whole warning. 😵‍💫

Proofread: Yes! But you already know…if you see a mistake, no you don’t. Proofread this at like 6am so no guarantees lol

‘How the hell did I end up here?’ You found yourself wondering as you listened intently to a story that you wouldn’t normally find interesting, but for some reason it was tonight. Probably because of who was telling it. Your eyes were lost in dark pools of chocolate as you listened to the man sitting directly across from you as he was animatedly telling you about his day. Your head was resting in your hand and your heart was slowly pounding uncomfortably in your chest as you watched the way he got so submerged in his tellings.

You were sitting prettily at the breakfast bar inside of the loft that belonged to who was supposed to be a one night stand ages ago. However, there were now candles burning, music playing lowly in the background and two almost empty wine glasses sitting in front of you under the simply lit lights that hung above the two of you.

‘Yeah…’ you thought. ‘This definitely turned into something…more.’ You tried recalling where exactly your heart took over your logic of the situation. Was it when he asked you how you liked your coffee the next morning after a quickie the night prior? Was it when he actually kept his word and called you the next day? Or maybe it was the date he asked to take you on so he could get to know you on a level more than physical. Either way, you couldn’t pinpoint the moment you started associating his eyes to milk chocolate or remembering that his hair smelled like pears. Or even when you had started adoring the mole under his eye. You had no idea, but it threw you into a mild sense of panic when you caught yourself staring at him for longer than you should, and the way his finger shocked you when he reached for your hand while walking you home after date number three.

It was a lot to take in.

You didn’t think you would ever in a million years be caught up with someone like Jung Wooyoung. He was classy and dripping with solid gold sex appeal. He carried himself so elegantly and was anything but innocent like the picture his eyes liked to paint. He was a lion, and he had sought you out as his prey one night at the rooftop bar you never attended prior to your friend’s birthday party in the spring. It was there that he showed up, and when he noticed you it was like he had a target painted on you because he would not look away. He ended up buying you a drink and how could you refuse such charm when he offered you a good time that evening?

The one lesson you learned that evening was that it was not going to be your last night moaning his name in ecstasy against his black silk sheets with the city’s skyline glowing in from his floor to ceiling windows. No…you quickly learned the one thing about Jung Wooyoung that had you baited like a fish on a hook the moment his feline eyes set in on you. The man was insatiable, and you would give him exactly what he craved — you.

He couldn’t get enough of you after that, this you convinced yourself of. And if you had any doubts prior to now, they were long gone by now. The memory of how he groaned as he licked you clean after making a mess of his face while his tongue was buried deep inside your walls. Especially when you recalled how you writhed underneath him when his fingers danced along your overstimulated clit before plunging deep inside you to make you feel so so full. It was a constant that replayed in your head like a rerun.

“Everything okay?” His teasing voice snapped you out of the memory and brought you back to the breakfast bar. You repositioned on top of your stool uncomfortably once you felt your panties damp and walls throbbing at the vivid memory.

“Oh, yeah. I’m good.” You took a sip of your drink, welcoming the bitter taste on your tongue as a temporary distraction to prevent your thoughts from wandering again.

“You sure? Thought I lost you for a minute there.” His coy smile lured a faint blush out and to dust along your cheeks.

“I’m right here.” You confirmed, swallowing as you took him all in when he nodded and stood up from his stool. You were too nervous earlier to really take a good look at him and really see him.

He looked absolutely sinful in his black skin-tight suit pants clinging to him like they were painted on. He had a gorgeous high neck black lace blouse tucked into them, leaving nothing to the imagination. The silver dangling from his ears shined in the moonlight coming in through his window with the dazzling light of the moon that was watching over you. You had to tell yourself not to stare at the birth mark on his bottom lip for too long.

An impossible task, really.

“I got you something.” He had walked over to a table just behind his couch and picked up a present wrapped to perfection. He set it down in front of you, his eyes soft but full of something dark as he watched you open the black box that was decorated with red ribbon ties around it. You could feel the desire he felt for you in the air; it was tense and your heart picked up its pace at the sight of what was in the box. “Do you like it?” He’d asked. “I thought you would look absolutely radiant in them.”

You couldn’t answer right away, your mouth going dry and the heat beginning to build in the pit of your stomach as butterflies swarmed manically in your chest.

“They’re beautiful. But what is all this for?” You definitely could not miss how the lace trimmed collar matched the blouse that adorned his chest.

“Oh I think you know.”

“Well, I know what their functionality is, but why did you-” before you could finish, Wooyoung slid the box away from you and in front of himself. With a twirl of his finger, he motioned you to turn around. You swiveled yourself around on top of the stool you sat upon, the confusion still showing across your features as you heard the faint clanking of the dainty chains in the box.

“Because,” you stared at the wall in front of you and felt the palm of his hand splay over your throat, his hand barely squeezing to get your heart pumping and the arousal in your abdomen start vibrating. Wooyoung took his other hand and placed the choker around your neck and fastened it from the back for you.

“You already look so beautiful underneath me,” he began, his hands making their way to the sleeves of your dress and pulling them down until it was halfway off. He stared down at your breasts, your nipples hardening as the heat between your legs intensified with the way his hands felt against your bare skin. That fueled the demon, it woke the beast inside, and he suddenly felt that insatiable hunger take over.

“But I just couldn’t help myself…” he yanked on the chain a bit to prompt you to turn yourself around again. “Black really is your color, darling.” His eyes locked in on the choker that was now adorning your neck and you saw his nostrils flare. “My god…You’re breathtaking.” He proclaimed under his breath, but you weren’t sure if it was said intentionally to you or if it was a break in his dominating presence.

His fingers trailed down your sternum and feather light caresses were given along the underside of your breasts. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours softly, allowing you two to get a good pace going before expertly slipping his tongue past your eager lips. The first taste of you in his tongue sent him into an animalistic frenzy, groaning into your mouth and the taste of the wine that lingered on your tongue was enough to get him drunk on you.

His hands reached your hips, pulling you flush against his chest and pressing your back into the counter as one hand began making art on your side with his nails — the scratches deep enough to cause the skin to puff and turn a slight angry shade of red, but not enough to inflict any pain.

‘Just enough to claim’ he thought, the obsessive observation not allowing him to think about anything else until he noticed your dress was still hiding you from him.

This wouldn’t do.

He pushed the remainder of the dress down until it hit the floor and you stepped out of it, flinging it out of sight with your foot. His mouth never left your body while his hand reached behind you to grab hold of the two black leather cuffs and bring them between the two of you. He broke his lips apart from yours and saw how blown out your eyes had become just from kissing him. He knew his devilish smirk wouldn’t be missed by you, no matter what state you were in mentally right now.

“Do you trust me?” His voice was barely a whisper as he looked down at the leather in his hands and then back up at you while holding the sultriest gaze. You nodded slowly, your breath beginning to pick up as you felt a spike of adrenaline kick in out of pure excitement. He grinned, taking one of your wrists delicately into his hand and securing one of the cuffs around it.

Once both were secured and your wrists were bound in front of you, he tugged gently at the chain on your choker and twirled you back around slowly, pressing your nearly naked form against the cold countertop. You felt him bend over you, pressing himself against you and completely caging you in with his arms. You heard him inhale sharply when his front pressed up against your ass, the stiffness in his trousers obvious now.

“Ready for this?” He purred into your ear, his lips ghosting your lobe teasingly while his warm breath against the shell of your ear sent a cold shiver shooting down your spine causing the pit of your stomach to feel like boiling hot magma. You clenched your legs together, hoping the dampness between them wasn’t obvious but by the way he chuckled, you knew that was no longer possible.

You felt his fingers dancing lightly across your electrified skin, dragging up and down your arms until they reached your sides. You could hear his light panting between soft pecks to your exposed shoulder blades, his tongue slowly gliding along the skin over the protruding bone, followed by a bite into the plush flesh of your shoulder. You felt the way his body was being pressed against yours more and more as his mouth worked to paint his blank canvas beautiful shades of blues and purples from every love bite he created on your back. You relished in how he felt almost needy and just as desperate to be touching you as much as humanly possible. The need to claim your body as his was evident and it sent you into a hazy spiral.

The irresistible heat that had made your heart race a million miles a minute returned when you felt his weight against you. His chest being flush with your back as he rubbed himself shamelessly against your ass left you breathless, the heated weight of him on top of you and the chill of the marble underneath was intoxicatingly delicious.

You felt as his bulge quickly became fully grown and started pulsating — awaiting to be touched and aching for your attention. You were too lost in your own pleasure to even notice that he had started slowly grinding against your ass, small whimpers falling from his swollen lips as he kept you pinned to the counter, allowing the friction from his trousers to rub him just right.

You dared not look back in fear of what you would see. He was lost in the way you made his body feel, and you knew exactly how primal his features would look if you did.

The weight of him on you soon lessened as he started running his hands down your sides and soon his hands gripped each ass cheek, squeezing them a few times before his fingers hooked into the lace at your hips. You quickly felt his hot breath against your hip bone and his teeth graze the sensitive skin. He began pulling your panties down, and you finally found the courage to look down and saw him dragging the dainty lace down with his fingers and his teeth. Once they were at the floor, you felt a rush of heat sweep over your abdomen as the warmth began to pool from within, preparing to burst at the right moment…when he decided it was time.

You heard him hum, pleased at the sight in front of him. He was now on his knees, and he tapped your leg to get your attention.

“Turn around for me, pretty baby.” He cooed. You immediately turned yourself around and were met with his hungry eyes from below. He looked at your damp pussy and licked his lips, spreading your legs just enough to fit between them a little.

You leaned back against the counter and met with the hard marble again, this time not as cold from it being warmed up by you.

“I’ve been waiting to eat you up all day.” He growled before pulling your lips apart slowly and gliding his tongue along your slit agonizingly slow. When you felt the warm plush muscle glide across your already slick folds, you felt the sharp jab of arousal slam into your core and it knocked the wind out of you.

“Oh, Woo…” you couldn’t find it in you to finish the sentence you had just lost from the fog that took over your thoughts as your only focus was the sensational pleasure his mouth was giving you. Like a kitten, he licked and licked and licked in small flicks of his tongue on every sensitive spot he made a point of memorizing.

When his dark chocolate eyes met yours again, he was melting at the way his name spilled uncontrollably, desperately and monumentally from your lips. How it was caressed by drawn out moans, and the way your back arched against the dark grey marble swirls underneath your glistening skin. He tugged at the chain attached to your collar and pulled you forward so your core was pressing against his smirking mouth as it devoured you like a starved man. His flouncy hair hung low over his eyes as he made a meal out of you, the constant slurping noises and groans of approval vibrating against your sensitive skin made you dizzy. He reached a hand up and pulled on the silver chain again when he noticed you had become silent. A small yelp escaped from your agape mouth at the small tug against your neck.

“Wanna hear you, baby.” He pleaded against your pulsating core, his voice unassuming of what he was truly capable of. Wooyoung demanded your attention in all forms — he exuded an overwhelming amount of confidence that screamed sex, which had your cunt dripping since day one.

“Wanna hear you scream my name.” He cooed with his mouth full of you, his hazy eyes looking up at you half lidded as he worked you in every single way he had learned how.

Oh…fuck,” you cursed under your breath once he had slid two fingers inside of your saturated walls. The way you swallowed his fingers with a vice grip. “Woo please.” You whined as his fingers were slowly inserted and dragged back out agonizingly slow and rubbing against your rigid walls so deliciously. He pulled them out completely before repeating and eventually began to plunge in and out of you at a rapid pace, the heat overwhelming and having you ready to burst like a volcanic eruption.

“Louder.” He instructed, his voice low and demanding. He did not look up at you as he pounded his fingers deep into you and pulled them right back out, letting your walls clench around nothing before sucking his digits right back in again.

“Woo…” you felt the tears begin to form on your lash line with the familiar pleasure peaking in your abdomen. He pulled them back out and put them back in this time but only to the first knuckle, not moving and waiting. The orgasm you begged your body to unleash on you refused to wash over you when his fingers were not inside.

“I said louder!” He commanded, his fingers rubbing around the rim of your hole teasingly before he shoved his tongue deep into your cunt and started fucking you relentlessly.

“Oh my god, WOOYOUNG!” Your legs shook as you kept your back arched as you felt the tide come crashing down on you, a series of moans forcing themselves from your slack mouth. You felt like a thousand lightning bolts jolted through your entire body as you succumbed to him and melted into his touch. You didn’t care who heard you beyond the four walls that kept you two hidden from the world. You only cared about the man with his face buried deep in your pussy as he licked every last drop of cum that leaked from your stretched hole. Your fingers curled into his hair as you pushed yourself against him to ride your orgasm out on his tongue.

When you came back down from your high that lasted an eternity, you felt him chuckle against you as he allowed you to tremble and shake around him. In the midst of your high you didn’t realize you squeezed your thighs around his face and held him in place and you reached your peak.

“What…what are you laughing at?” You asked, sounding just as spent as you felt. He stood up from in between your legs and that’s when you saw the mess you made of his face, a knowing smirk adorning it as his eyes locked with yours.

Nothing…I’m just surprised is all.” He shrugged as he walked behind the counter into the kitchen and started dampening a washcloth. You hopped up to sit on the counter and waited for him to come back around.

“Surprised at what?” You leaned back a bit and your eyebrow shot up slightly while you waited for him to reply.

“I didn’t realize I would be getting a pair of earmuffs in the middle of summer.”

“What do you-” you paused, the light visibly flicking on above your head when you understood. “Oh my god!” You felt your cheeks heat up instantly at the realization. “Are you referring to…”

“The death grip you had on my face with your thighs? Oh I absolutely am.” He smiled teasingly as he crouched back down in front of you and started running the warm washcloth along your now heated skin as he cleaned you up. He wiped away what he couldn’t get with his mouth and was so gentle.

“I am…so…so sorry.” You leaned back embarrassed, covering your face with your hands and hoping you would just evaporate on the spot.

“Why? You completely let go and…” he grabbed your wrists and undid your cuffs. He looked up at you through his lashes, and you noticed a light sheen of sweat sticking to his skin. “You liquidized right into my hands; you surrendered yourself completely to me in that moment and allowed your body to naturally react to the pleasure. If that’s not trust, then I don’t know what is.” He booped the tip of your nose with his finger and chuckled under his breath. “It’s what every dom dreams of witnessing when playing.”

“Wait- are you a dom?”

“You could say that.” He chuckled at your surprised expression, but something in you always knew he was fit for the role when his presence entered a room way before he ever did.

“Oh darling, you only got a taste of what I can do to you. For you.” He lightly caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, his feline eyes glowing with something you didn’t know but wanted to experience. His touch felt like the heat of a thousand suns against your skin as he leaned down and firmly pressed his lips to yours, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip and so you could get the faintest taste yourself on him.

You would never admit that you liked the taste of yourself on his tongue.

At least not out loud, anyway.

“But only if you want it. I know this isn’t for everyone, but I would never force you into something you aren’t comfortable with.” He stared into your eyes and held eye contact to make sure every word he just spoke registered.

“I’ve been looking for someone for a long time who matches my rhythm…someone like you.” He continued, his gaze never wavering. “Honestly, I can’t bear the thought of you with anyone but me. I’m not sure when this started, but now that it has it’s a thirst I can’t quench. It’s a hunger I can’t control. I’ve accepted this because all I know is that I need you.” He tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear and his smile was soft and kind and romantic in a way you were used to seeing him now. It made your heart race even more.

“However, I will respect your wishes if you’d prefer to keep this casual.” You felt your eyes widen slightly at his confession. As he waited for an answer, he reached behind you with both hands to untie your choker. You felt the fabric loosen from around your neck and fall into his hands much like you had.

“Jung Wooyoung…are you asking me if I want us to be exclusive?” You couldn’t help the way the corners of your mouth curled up as your heart grew wings in that moment.

“I am, yes.” He confirmed as he put the delicate lace back in the box that sat on the countertop still.

“Well then…” you grab the cuffs that he had discarded back into the box and dangle them in between the two of you. “you better put these back on. I don’t think I’m done being ruined by you yet.”

“I haven’t even ruined you yet...” He stated, the mole on his lip coming into view when his dashing smile reappeared and his eyes darkened when looking at you. “And no…we were only taking a short break. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.” His voice was low and husky as it vibrated against his sternum, his inner lion pounding at his rib cage to be unleashed once again.

“Yes, sir.” You leaned back, eyes hooded and sultry, spreading your legs for him to see that you had already made a small mess on the counter just for him.

Because of him.

He stood up and pressed himself against you, grabbing your throat ever so lightly as he leaned in. You closed your eyes ready to feel his plush lips meet yours, only you were never met with the touch. Instead, his lips ghosted over yours so you could feel his barely-there panting as he held you in place. You could feel his aching member against your thigh as he stood against you.

“You’re so good at being bad...”

[storiesforallfandoms]

not what it looks like ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1812

request?: yes!

“Hi I was wondering if you could do one for colson, Where the r goes through his latest dm for a tik tok trend and it's megan flirting with him ,and so reader confront s him. They get into a huge fight like legit throwing stuff around the house ,and r stays in the guest bedroom but he wants to Apologize. So he finds the key ,and preferably make up with hot angry smut if your up for it. Thank you for your time - anon🪅”

description: in which she finds a suspicious message when she goes through his dms

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, hints of cheating but no actual cheating has occurred, fighting and yelling (no actual yelling and throwing stuff tho sorry), rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

You often found yourself wanting to try whatever couple’s trend was going around on TikTok, and Colson was always game. He liked how excited you got to show him, and how happy you were whenever e said yes to trying a trend. It was never anything you did to post online, you only did it for your own enjoyment. It was all innocent fun.

You thought this trend was going to be the same. Oh, how wrong you were.

Colson was basically expecting the question when he heard your phone go silent in the next room and your footsteps approaching. He turned to watch the doorway and smiled when you predictably appeared.

“Can I see your latest DM?” you asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that the trend, or should I be worried about where this is coming from?”

“No! It’s a trend!” you assured him.

He laughed. “Okay. Here.”

He passed you his phone. You took it and sat on the couch next to him. He turned his attention back to the song he had been writing as he let you do whatever you wanted to do.

The trend you had seen was simple: someone asked their partner if they could see the last text message on their phone. It always went one of two ways: either the last text was something mundane or funny, or it was something incriminating. You had no fears about what could be on Colson’s phone, especially when he was so quick to pass it over to you. So you decided to look at his latest Instagram DM instead. You figured it would be funny to see what fans had been saying to him recently.

What you didn’t expect was for there to be a message from a verified account. An account that you knew.

Megan Fox.

But it wasn’t the account itself that brought you pause. It was the message preview.

“I had a great ti - ”

You clicked the message without a second thought. The full message read, “I had a great time yesterday. Let me know when you want to do it again!” The message was followed by a ink emoji and a smiling devil emoji.

Your mind was running a million miles a second. What could the message mean? Well, clearly it meant Megan and Colson had met up at some point the day before, and planned to meet again. You couldn’t remember what Colson had told you he was doing the day before, so you couldn’t think of what possible reason there was for them to be together. Especially something that would require a wink and devil emoji. Unless...

No. There was no way. Colson would never cheat on you. He loved you and he was loyal to you. You had no reason to doubt that.

At least, you didn’t until you saw Megan’s message.

You were having so much internal turmoil that you didn’t realize how long you had just been staring at Colson’s phone. He looked over to find you frozen and lightly nudged you with his shoulder.

“Is the last message that traumatizing?” he teased. When you didn’t respond, worry sunk in. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

You held the phone out to him. He took it and started reading the message that was still on the screen. “What does this mean?”

His face didn’t show any signs of panic or guilt. You figured that should be a good sign, right? He wasn’t acting as if you caught him in a lie or anything. But then again, he could just be having a very good poker face.

“We had her in a video yesterday,” he replied. “It was crazy. You’ll love it when you see it.”

You nodded, but your mind was still distant. Had he told you he was filming yesterday? Not that he had to tell you everything he ever did. You were both adults, you didn’t need to keep tabs on one another. But he usually told you about his video shoots, or anything to do with his music. You figured he would’ve told you about having Megan Fox in one of his videos especially. That was a huge deal.

He gave you a look. “Do you not believe me?”

“I didn’t say that,” you said.

“You didn’t say anything. Babe, why would I lie?”

You didn’t point out the obvious: that he’d lie because he’s cheating. But he read your expression and said, “I’m not cheating on you.”

“You wouldn’t tell me if you were,” you blurted.

Colson looked at you. A humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’d think I was cheating on you. I have never given you any reason to think I would, and now because of this one message that I already explained to you, you think I’m cheating?”

“Well what else am I supposed to think when I see a message on your phone from another woman saying she had a ‘great time yesterday’ and adding flirty emojis?”

Colson rolled his eyes and stood from the couch. You did the same, following him out of the room. “Where are you going?”

“Why? Are you afraid I have Megan hidden in the next room?”

“Okay, maybe I am overreacting, but can’t you see this from my point of view? You have a message from another woman saying you were together yesterday. That she wants to meet up with you again. How else am I supposed to take that?”

“You’re supposed to believe me because I’m telling you nothing fucking happened! We got Megan for a video shoot and the video had to do with her playing a crazy stalker. That’s why she sent the devil emoji. There is nothing between us!”

You stepped back at his raised tone. You felt a lump forming in your throat. Maybe you were being irrational. Maybe you should’ve taken the explanation that Colson gave you and believed him. But he didn’t need to yell at you like that. He had never yelled at you before, not even during past arguments.

You choked back the lump and said, “You can’t blame me for thinking the worst when I saw that message. It sounds flirty, like you two were together in an intimate scenario yesterday. And I know you’ve never given me any reason to think you’d cheat, but cheating isn’t an obvious thin, Colson! Cheaters don’t announce they’re cheating every time they leave the house. I’m sorry for accusing you, but you can’t blame me when I saw that message with no context, from a woman way more beautiful than I could ever be. Silly me for thinking you wouldn’t want to fuck Megan Fox of all people.”

You turned before he could say anything else and nearly ran up the stairs to your shared bedroom. Maybe you were childish for running to your room to escape an argument and cry, but now that you had voice your insecurities out loud, you needed to get away and allow your emotions to run free.

That was really what this was all about: your own insecurities. You had always been insecure about the women Colson was surrounded by. He was a famous rapper, he had gorgeous groupies throwing themselves at him at every show. He was linked with actresses and other female musicians that you found to be so much more beautiful than you. You were terrified of the day when he realized he could do so much better than you and broke up with you for one of the beautiful women he was surrounded by almost daily.

You were laid on your bed, the tears seeming to finally run out when you heard Colson’s footsteps approaching the room. You sat up and tried to wipe your face before he found you, but you were sure your attempts were for nothing. Your face was definitely puffy and tear stained beyond a quick fix. Colson stood in the doorway, looking at you with a hint of sadness in his eyes as well. You couldn’t look at him for long before you gaze dropped to your lap.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice so soft it was almost a whisper.

“No, baby, don’t be sorry,” he said. He walked over to sit on the bed next to you. “How long have you felt like this?”

“Like what?” you asked, even though you knew exactly what he meant.

“Like what you said about Megan being more beautiful than you. There’s no way that just suddenly came out of you just then.”

You sighed and shook your head. “I’ve felt it for...a long time.”

“Like how long?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It just started happening. One second I didn’t care about anyone else in the world, and then the next I was seeing the way other women looked at you and how they talked about wanting you. Then I started to notice how beautiful they all were.”

He gently took your chin in his hand and made you look up at him. “But you’re beautiful.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, but I’m not Megan Fox.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Megan isn’t who I want. Neither are any of the women who try and throw themselves at me while I’m on tour, or any models or actresses or musicians ever. I want you. I’ve always wanted you, and only you. You are the most beautiful person in the world to me and no one will ever change that. I would never hurt you by sneaking around with someone else. You are my everything.”

Tears were starting to form in your eyes again. You leaned into Colson’s arms, burying your head in his chest so he wouldn’t see you crying again. He put his arms around you and held you to him, allowing you to go through whatever emotions you were feeling.

You had been stupid to think he was cheating. You knew that even in the moment. But, your mind was so clouded with the message from Megan and your own insecurities that you weren’t thinking clearly. You felt silly about it now, but you were glad to have talked it through with Colson and to have cleared the air.

“What did you have Megan do you to that she sent you a devil emoji?” you asked when you finally were able to stop the tears and pull away from his chest.

“She tied me up and electrocuted me in a bathtub,” he responded.

You laughed. “What?!”

“I’m being dead serious. That’s just one scene. The whole video is her essentially just torturing me. She had a blast with it. I’m a little concerned that she’s so eager to do it again.”

You giggled and leaned into his embrace again. The two of you laid back on the bed as Colson recounted the shoot from the day before.

[kendsleyauthor]

PLUNGE

Print / Trinket Universe (Micah and Everly)

~700 words

Warning: Suggestive thoughts

A follow-up to Poolside by @marydublinauthor 🌸

“Micah Tate, you ASSHOLE!” Everly sputtered and flailed as pool water drenched her from head to toe. She clung desperately to Micah’s fingers, trying to work out how she could kick him while also using him to keep her head above the surface.

Logically, she knew he would never do anything to hurt her—let alone try to drown her—but furious panic settled into her bones all the same.

Micah chuckled, but his amused grin softened. “I’ve got you, Ev, stop squirming.” He lifted his hand, bringing her higher so that only her scrabbling legs were submerged.

“I can’t swim,” she gritted out, shivering from the sudden plunge.

“Seriously?” To his credit, he looked like he really hadn’t known. “The Burrow has a pool. You’ve lived there all your life.”

“Most of my life. And you think I had time for that? I was too busy learning practical skills. If I’d known ‘big dumb rockstar dragging me underwater’ was on the list of threats, I might’ve bothered.”

The water lapped around her dangerously again as Micah floated onto his back. He let her down on his chest, one hand still cupped loosely around her. She caught her breath, but her heart wouldn’t slow as noted how far he had moved from the pool’s edge. Not that she would be able to reach high enough to pull herself out, anyway. The unnaturally smooth drop of the infinity pool in the other direction looked more life-threatening than beautiful now.

“You’re digging into me like a cat,” he said. “I could teach you to swim sometime. What do you say?”

“If I say yes, will you get me out of here right-fucking-now?”

He drifted back to the poolside. “You’ll be a natural, I bet. You’re so good at everything.” His tone was so saccharine yet sincere, it had to be his preamble to groveling for her forgiveness. 

At the moment, no amount of charm or sucking-up could compare to the relief of him finally setting her on the sleek floor beside the water. She dropped to her knees, breathing heavily and wringing her hair out. But when Micah pulled himself out of the pool, he drenched her all over again with the waterfalls that poured from his body. She scrambled back, huffing in annoyance as he went to grab his towel.

When she opened her mouth to snap at him, she faltered at the sight of him. Turning to face her, he caught her staring. She flushed, focusing on squeezing water from her blouse and trying desperately not to think about his wet trunks clinging to his body like a second skin.

Less than a minute ago, she’d had her hands on him, and he’d been all over her. She was too pissed and proud to give him the satisfaction of showing how badly she wanted to get back to that.

“Dunno why you buy me these outfits if you’re just gonna ruin them,” she said.

“I’ll buy you a million more, and you can choose how we ruin them.” He smiled slyly. Kneeling in front of her, he offered his towel like he was presenting a cushy platform fit for a queen. “C’mon, we’ll dry off better inside.”

The fluffiness of the fabric was too much to resist. She waded through the folds, sighing in short-lived relief. “Hang on,” she said, squinting up at him. “We’ll have to go through the lobby. People will see.”

He scoffed in that beautiful, irritating Micah way. “You keep giving me easy problems, Ev.”

The second she was remotely settled, he swept the towel up and buried her against his chest. Her muffled shout made his deep chuckle reverberate through her. If her stomach wasn’t still somersaulting, she would have been squirming to show her fury.

Fabric shifted around her, light briefly flooding in as Micah snuck his hand in. His fingers wrapped around her waist gently to keep her secure. While he walked inside, she found herself begrudgingly grateful to be protected from the air-conditioning.

Still, he owed her for the pool plunge.

She had no doubt that all she’d need to do was snap her fingers to convince him to peel off her sodden clothes layer by layer. For now, while he couldn’t see the growing smirk on her face, she was content to bask in his warmth.

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God: Chapter 52

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Chapter Summary: It's the morning after she reached her breaking point and Matt is there to catch her as she breaks down. He doesn't leave her side as they somehow try to find a way to navigate out of this dark hole she has slipped into, and his devotion is ever so unwavering.

Warnings: ANGST, panic attack, self-doubt, mentions of self-harm, mentions of injury & blood, talk about therapy, crying, mentions of anxiety, description of a depressive episode, emotional hurt/comfort

Word Count: 6.2k

A/n: I hope you guys are feeling alright. For this chapter and the next one, too, keep an eye out for the warnings and make sure to take care of yourselves! Thank you all for your support and I hope you're all doing okay. This is a dream come true and to still be writing this for you, even though updates are irregular and my chapters have gotten shorter, is an absolute honor because people read it, people like it, and I am on cloud nine over here. Thank you!

Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @lina-mar (& if you want to be added too, fill out this form!)

Read Chapter 52: Say You Won't Let Go here on AO3!

Lost. It’s not as much of a feeling as it is a state of mind, but to Eliza, it has never felt more like an emotion. She felt completely and utterly lost, her soul an empty wasteland with miles of void space. She was running until she wasn’t, running out of air and water, and when she turned around the world only seemed to have grown bigger. She couldn’t escape. She was trapped. She felt lost with nowhere to go and it scared her shitless. 

She stood in the wasteland of her dreams, of the happiness she thought was finally hers, but instead, the pain came and overshadowed everything. There was no more silver lining, only a black hole in the vastness of space, but even that space wasn’t part of our solar system, it was somewhere far away where no one could have possibly found her. 

A voice called out for her. Physically, she was on earth and reality was… well, it was real, but at the same time it wasn’t. The voice sounded familiar yet alien. The hand that touched hers was warm yet cold. She heard a familiar prayer whispered into her ear, and the words sent shivers down her spine because even God was connected to memories she would have rather stuck down the garbage disposal. 

Her eyes were heavy. She didn’t want to wake up. The world was cruel, but so was sleep. That was the truth; she was lost and even the points of escape that were offered weren’t exactly an escape, it was just more pain atop pain until eventually, the water managed to drown her completely. 

The more aware she became of her physical state, the more agony seemed to spread through her knuckles. Slowly but steadily, she blinked against the protruding sunlight. Her eyelids were heavy and swollen, the salt of the previous tears burning her skin. Something wet and tight was wrapped around her knuckles and it smelled like copper in the room. 

Copper and sweat stuck to the walls of her nose and refused to let go of her; she wanted to puke. The temperature in the room was treacherous because how was it possible for it to be hot and cold at the same time? And why did her head hurt so much? Did she fall? Her mind was full of millions of thoughts faster than she could think them properly, and yet her head had never been more empty. Everything was empty yet heavy yet oh so painful and she already hated that hopeless feeling that seeped into her bones. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of useless fighting, she opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry and it took her a while to make out the details around her, the furniture of Matt’s apartment and his distinctive silhouette next to her, clutching her bandaged hands and praying to a God she didn’t believe in, and his faith seemed to be swindling too. He sounded tired, and he looked just as awful. She didn’t even want to know what she had done. This was her fault, whatever it was, and she wished to pass out again. 

Matt, ever so attuned to her body, lifted his head. His teary, unfocused eyes fell on her. He squeezed her hand gently with both of his own. “Hey,” he said, his voice barely above a relieved whisper. “Hey, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Are you okay?” 

Eliza opened her mouth, but she couldn’t answer. Was she okay? She didn’t know. 

He brushed the sweaty strands of hair out of her face. “Sweetheart,” he called out for her again, trying to coax her into a state of proper consciousness. 

She looked at him, taking a deep breath. The oxygen rattled in her lungs like an old motor. 

“Hey,” he gave a broken smile, “There you are. You had me worried there. I thought… God, I was so worried, baby. Don’t ever do that to me again.”

She was missing some context. She remembered falling asleep in his arms and that was it. She couldn’t even remember how she got from the bed to the couch or why her knuckles would possibly have needed bandages.

“What–“ she croaked, her voice hoarse. 

Matt reached for the water bottle on the coffee table and held it to her lips to drink. She took a desperate sip. 

“You don’t remember?” he asked softly.

What was she supposed to remember? Judging by the look on his face, it was serious. He couldn’t even hide it for her sake. 

“Can you talk?”

“Yes,” Eliza breathed out. “I just don’t… What happened?”

Her eyes were full of fear as she looked at him. He could smell the fear seeping out of her pores, the uncertainty in the way she held his hand impalpable. 

He softened his gaze. “You had a rough night,” Matt tried to explain, trying not to break or scare her further, but he could feel her pulse quicken as her brain slowly started to wake up, and the realization settled in. 

She looked at her hands. The dream hit her with full force. She remembered the blood on her hands, and Viktor’s condescending words as he called her weak, forcing her to kill over and over again until she was strong enough for his liking. It felt so real. The blood felt so real. 

She remembered shying away from Matt, slipping into a haze as she scrubbed her knuckles open. There had been blood, but it had been hers. If her victims' blood became one with hers, she wasn’t sure, but a dream was all it had been and she took it too far. She took it too seriously because it had never felt that real before. She was back in the White Room and she was so helpless. 

“Did I…” She didn’t finish her sentence. 

Weakly, Matt nodded. “But you’re okay,” he said. “It’s okay, I promise.” He was struggling with tears, she could tell, trying to convince himself more than her. 

“Oh, God,” Eliza choked out. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to… I promise I didn’t mean to.”

“Hey, I know. I know.” 

She tore her hand out of his and covered her face, her body trembling with fear and the salty ocean that started building up its way behind her closed lids. “I don’t know–“ she swallowed. “Ugh! I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t know, Matt. I don’t know…”

He got off his knees and sat beside her. His arms opened and her crying frame fell into them. He cradled her close to him, his hand resting on the back of her neck. Her sobs echoed in his mind, seemingly breaking glass and tearing the apartment apart. Her pain broke him, and there was nothing he could do.

“Shh,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her scalp. 

Eliza shook violently in her arms. He was the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely. He caught her while she was falling, and he saved her life in the process. She owed him so much and the fact that bad things kept happening in ways she couldn’t understand terrified her to the point of no return. 

She clung to him, her hands clawing at his shirt, and he tightened his hold on her as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear. Her heartbeat sounded so loud and fast, her breathing coming in labored puffs. He rubbed her back, hoping it would soothe some of the initial aches and bring her back to him, but the more she cried, the further she slipped into the black hole he was trying to save her from. He was trying to save her from herself.

Another strangled sob escaped her throat. She tried to utter something, but her vocal cords were twisted. She couldn’t move. His voice moved into the background. Instead, alarms started blaring in her mind. Her muscles locked up and her vision blurred. She couldn’t breathe. 

“Hey, hey,” Matt said, firmer now, squeezing her tighter, “Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe.”

She managed to shake her head as if to say, ‘I can’t.’ He noticed her distress. 

“Take deep breaths. In through the nose, out through your mouth.”

“I c-can’t.”

“Please.”

Her quivering lips parted in a silent plea, “Help me.”

Matt tried his hardest not to cry with her. He hooked his arm under her knees and picked her up, carrying her shaking body into the bathroom. “Okay,” he muttered to himself. He turned the shower on, the water cold but not too cold as he lowered the shower head from his preferred height to one that would accommodate her. 

Her sobs came only in broken bouts and he set her down on the cold tiles. She gasped, her lungs filling with the first breath of fresh air. He gently coaxed her under the stream and she yelped at the sudden change in temperature, her clothes getting soaked the moment she found herself under the water. Although when she opened her eyes, the world around her went quiet. The water formed a bubble around her, tuning out everything but the sound of the droplets hitting the tiles. Her tears mingled with the water and she focused on the cold feeling on her heated skin, the reminder that she was alive and that the world around her was real. 

His hand caressed her thigh as he looked at her. “Breathe,” he told her, “and focus. Tell me five things you can see.”

It had become a familiar routine. She listened to his voice as he told her what to point out to him and in return, she focused on her surroundings as hard as she could, focusing on what her senses could pick and what his couldn’t. She told him what she could see, hear, smell, and taste. She focused on the cold water, the cold shower tiles, and his soothing hand on her thigh. Her limbs quivered, but her breathing began to regulate, and she finally found her way out of the box she had been trapped in. She stopped running into walls and found the hatch, breaking out of confinement into the world. 

Her body slacked against the wall and she exhaled yet another shaky breath. Amid the chaos she had caused herself, a sliver of peace rolled around the corner.

“There you are,” Matt smiled softly at her and asked, “You okay?”

She licked her lips and nodded slowly. 

“Can I turn the water off now?”

“No,” said Eliza, “Need it on.”

He nodded in agreement and sat down next to her, a position he often had been in before and had gotten used to it at this point. It wasn’t always as serious as that night, of course, but he didn’t mind the cold as long as she didn’t have to feel alone, and he knew she often did, even when he was around. 

He gently took her hand in his, stroking his hand over the soaked bandage. He could smell the copper of her blood stuck to the fabric and running down the drain mixed with the shower water, and it was completely wet with different kinds of fluids at this point, but she wasn’t in pain. At least he couldn’t make out any of her usual signs of discomfort, her muscles were merely sore and her head hurt. He kept stroking her hand, listening attentively to her heartbeat as she focused on his breathing and began to calm down. 

“You scared me,” he dared to admit. 

She swallowed. “I know.”

“I was so worried about you. For a second I thought… last night, I thought you were gonna hurt yourself.”

The sanctuary of the water raining down around them seemed like the right place to pour his heart out. It was something he could no longer deny, and she didn’t deserve to be lied to either. 

“I’m sorry,” was all Eliza found in herself to say. Another wave of tears stood close by, ready to fall and break her down again. “I’m so sorry,” she said. 

“You remember everything?” he asked. 

She nodded. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No. I can’t…”

“It’s okay,” he squeezed her hand again, “I understand.”

“It felt so real.”

“I know.”

“But I never wanted to hurt myself. That wasn’t… whatever you thought happened, it wasn’t me, it was…”

“Viktor?” he finished for her. 

Eliza shuddered at the name, but then she nodded and said, “Viktor.” Saying his name sounded foreign, even though she had multiple times before. 

Even dead, he still haunted her. 

They sat there in silence for a while. Matt eventually turned the water off, but they stayed there, hand in hand, sitting on the wet floor of the shower. She stared blankly ahead, trying to sort her thoughts and emotions, and Matt listened. He always listened. 

Softly, she called his name. “Matt?”

“Yes, baby?” 

“I think-” she said, swallowing. Her thoughts were still a mess, but hearing the fear in his voice before and the pained look on his face just from experiencing her pain taught her something she should have realized the day before, or perhaps right after watching the life drain from Viktor’s eyes. “I’m not okay,” she said. Her voice bordered on a hushed whisper. 

He turned his head in her direction. There was no surprise on his face, only understanding. Claire was right when she said he had to listen to what Eliza wanted. He knew her better than anyone and she always came around, sometimes sooner than later. 

“I’m not okay,” she repeated and met his unfocused eyes halfway, “and I think I need help.” She cracked. 

Wordlessly, he opened his arms again. She scooted closer and melted into him, placing her head on his now-wet chest. He rubbed her shoulders, trying to soothe the comforting ache of the cold that kept her grounded in reality. 

Matt pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Okay,” he said. 

“I don’t want to be a burden. I know you were scared, I know I hurt you just as much as I hurt myself, and I know there is so much we said we had to do before I… before I slipped. There are so many unanswered questions and I know you put Daredevil on hold for me. You pushed your anger away for me. You stopped going after the guy whose name you were told. You did that all because of me, just to be by my side the past two days, and I don’t know how to repay you for that, so I’d understand if you said you want to go out there tonight and stir some shit up. I’d understand if you said the city needed you more right now because truth is, this guy is dangerous and the night at the hospital haunts me as much as Viktor’s face does. I want to know who this guy is too, I want to understand, and we don’t, so we need to find a way. Or you do. I can’t keep you away from this part of yourself any longer and I couldn’t possibly want you to,” she said. 

He cut her off by lifting her chin and forcing her to look at him. “Don’t,” he said. 

She frowned, sniffling and trying to blink away the tears. “Matt-”

“No, you’re not a burden. You’re right, I chose you over Daredevil. I chose to take care of you. But I don’t regret it. I chose you because I love you, and I won’t leave your side until I know you’re going to be okay.”

“But this guy-”

“He’s not gonna touch you because I’m not leaving your side. Not until I know you’re fully yourself again, which you’re not. I love you,” Matt pulled her close and rested his forehead against hers, “and nothing matters more to me than you do, Punisher be damned. And he can’t hurt you here, I’m not gonna let that happen. You get that?”

All Eliza could muster was a weak nod. 

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it. We'll find a way to figure out who this guy is and understand what's going on. But right now, you're my priority. Your well-being comes first, and I won't let you go through this alone. We're in this together."

Her breath hitched. The familiar burning in her eyes intensified. She wasn't strong enough to stop the silent tears from cascading down her already wet cheeks. Matt was by her side, and while guilt was a cruel son of a bitch who always managed to suck the good out of everything she faced, she could feel his love through the invisible string that connected their souls in a whirlwind of emotions.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with a vulnerability she hadn't shown in a long time. "I just don't want to lose myself. I don't want to hurt you or anyone else."

Matt wiped away a tear that escaped from her eye. "I know, sweetheart. And you won't. I promise."

Eliza clung to him, her grip tightening as if he was her lifeline. And he was. He was the one thing keeping her from drowning. 

“For now, we just have to focus on making sure you get better, okay?” 

The softness in his voice caused another tear to slip down her cheek and land on his finger. 

“I love you,” he said, “more than anything in this godforsaken world and I will never give up on you. Never.”

“I love you too,” she whispered back. 

He kissed her forehead again. “I know. Let’s get you dried off, get you some fresh clothes, and rebandage these knuckles, hm? And then maybe you can try eating something. You need sustenance.”

She nodded. 

“I’ll call Mrs. Darcy for you and make sure you get an appointment for tomorrow. You need your rest today. And then tomorrow, you can talk to her about what’s been going on and maybe she can help you find a way to navigate this without losing yourself any further than you already have. Deal?”

She nodded again. 

“Good girl,” Matt hummed against her cold skin. “Now come on, you’re freezing.”

He helped her up, gently peeling the wet clothes off of her body. She protested when he turned the water on again, making sure it was warm before pushing her back under the stream. She relaxed almost immediately. He got in after her, washing her hair and smoothing a sponge over her reddened skin. She let him do what he felt she needed, and she loved every second of it. 

Her body temperature returned to normal when he guided her out of the shower and wrapped her in a towel, drying her body and her hair. She closed her eyes, letting it happen. She was too tired to fight, and perhaps it wasn’t all too bad to have someone taking care of her. She wouldn’t have done it on her own. He was simply making sure she was alright and taken care of, and she appreciated that in a way she wasn’t sure how to express except for giving him a gentle peck on the lips. 

Matt couldn't erase the scars of her past, but he could offer her solace in the present. He did a good job, she had to admit. He always had and he always would do a good job at taking care of her. His love had no limits and exceeded most expectations she'd had of relationships before he came around. She still often believed she didn't deserve him, and it was true; Matt was too good for her, but God, did she love the man with all she had, and there was no currency in the world she could repay him with because his love was priceless and she didn't know how to act. Even after all this time, she was as clueless as before, and he still loved her, even though she sucked at it. She couldn't understand why. She wanted to understand, but his loving her seemed like a chore and she needed to know why he was still clinging to her, even when she turned into such a mess, someone not worthy of such a dedicated love because what she gave back couldn't possibly match up.

Her mind slipped into darkness, the demons taking over and their voices were so loud, it frustrated her. Tears sprung to her eyes, but he caught them before they could fall. "You're safe now," he whispered. 

"It's not that," she admitted as he led her to the bedroom and pulled out a pair of his sweatpants and a -shirt, all carrying his scent, his essence, and connecting her to his being. He knew she wanted nothing more than to be swallowed by him on bed days. It comforted her. Another display of love her mind reeled with, and the demons screamed again.

Eliza closed her eyes. She fought with the voices in her head, trying to quiet them for just a moment, but they wouldn't stop. Her movements as she got dressed were still heavy with the burden she carried.

Matt tilted his head. "What then?" he asked. "You can talk to me, baby. What's on your mind?" He could tell she wasn't quite present, and it wasn't the fog from the panic attack or the night before. She was thinking, and she was thinking loudly. 

She managed to slip her arm through the sleeve of her shirt. Exhausted, she lowered herself down on the bed, dropping her head in her hands. She wasn’t crying, but she whimpered, the fight against the noise in her head becoming futile because she wasn’t going to win either way. She couldn’t say anything against the cruel words thrown her way because even she, in her lucid state, found them believable. 

She took a deep breath, which quickly turned into a groan. Eliza met Matt's concerned gaze, and her voice trembled slightly as she began to speak. "It's just... I don't understand, Matt," she said. 

"What don't you understand, my love?" he asked, lowering himself next to her.

"I don't understand... I don't get why you love me so fiercely, why you're still here even all I've put you through, and I continue to fall apart every time shit happens and it's always you who's here, always you who has to catch me, and I... it doesn't seem fair, and it's not what I want you to feel like you have to do. I just don't understand why you stick around, you know? I don't and it's so fucking frustrating because... I don't deserve this kind of love. You keep saying I do, but I don't. I can tell you I'll be there for you all I want, but in the end, it's you who has to catch me, not the other way around. So I just don't get it because I don't deserve this unwavering devotion. I don't." 

Matt's expression softened. "This again?" He wrapped an arm around her, but she shied away. 

"Eliza," he tried again, his voice sincere, "I love you because of who you are," he said. "I can see the strength in you, even when you can't see it yourself. You've faced battles I can't even fathom, and yet you keep pushing forward. You still find it in yourself to love others and give back even when you're falling apart, and that is so admirable. That's what I look up to in you, that's what draws me to you. It's like nothing ever truly destroys you because you won't let it, no matter how many times you say you're broken. I didn't understand it before, but then Claire said there is no benchmark on how much pain a person can endure, and you have endured so much and you're still standing, it just shows how fucking strong you are, and it... it hurts me to see you hurt, but that doesn't mean you burden me or that you don't deserve my devotion. That's not true, sweetheart, and you know it. I know you do. Deep down, you know."

She swallowed, allowing him to touch her shoulder this time. "But," she said, "what if I can't love you the same way you love me? What if my love is tainted? What if I can't give back what you give me and I hurt you? I don't want to hurt you... and I hate that I think that way, but the voices... these stupid voices, they just won't stop!" Eliza dropped her head in her hands again. 

Shaking his head in response, Matt gently lifted her chin, ensuring their eyes met. 

"Eliza, love is not a transaction. It's not money. It's not an actual currency that can be compared. It's not about matching up, giving back equally, or measuring worthiness. Love is about acceptance, understanding, and being there for each other. It's messy and imperfect, and sometimes it hurts, it really does, but it's also the most beautiful and transformative force in the world. Everyone loves differently, but you always give more than a hundred percent, and you love with all of your might, and that is more than enough because I feel so loved by you, I sometimes feel like I am not deserving of you. That's what love is, not whatever you think you have to match up to, sweetheart. You're doing the best you can and that is enough. You are enough."

Eliza's eyes welled up with fresh tears again. She wanted to believe him, to trust in his words, but she couldn't shut out the voice in her head, no matter how far Matt kept pushing it into the background.

"I want to believe you," she whispered, she longed for it, "but these demons in my head... they make it so hard. They tell me I'm not enough, that I'll only bring you down in the long run. And I'm starting to believe it."

He gently brushed away a tear from her cheek. "Well, I'm not going anywhere," he said. "I choose you, every single day. I would choose you again and again, not someone else because I love you and I feel loved by you, so you're not getting rid of me. Not again. Not happening."

Love isn't conditional, it's supposed to be a guiding light and help you grow with it. 

"You are worthy of love, Eliza. Don't let those demons tell you otherwise."

She wiped her tears with the bandage around her hands. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, slowly but steadily letting herself fall into his arms. 

He hugged her close to his side, his nose brushing through her hair. “Don’t apologize,” he said. 

“I just want to be enough.”

“And you are enough.”

“I’ve never been enough.”

“As I’ve told you before, your past doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here now. You’re not alone and you have never been more than enough.”

She leaned closer, feeling his heartbeat against her cheek. “I love you,” Eliza whispered, her voice barely audible. 

Matt smiled, pressing his lips to every inch of skin he could find and reach. “And I love you,” he said. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to-”

He shushed her with a gentle kiss to her lips, cradling her face in his hands. “Unconditionally. That’s how much I love you.”

She nuzzled her nose against his.

"Things will get better and life will get easier.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“I know, and I’m sorry all of this keeps happening to you, but not once did I consider giving up on you, and I still won’t. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, so you better get used to that. I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” 

She sighed, keeping her mouth shut. 

“Now," he said and took her hands in his, "let's take care of those knuckles before it gets any worse.”

Matt cleaned her wounds with gentle precision, his touch tender as he rebandaged them. "There we go. Good as new, almost." He made sure the bandages sat perfectly before pressing a tender kiss to each knuckle. 

“Thank you,” she said. A tear mingled with a bittersweet smile on her lips. “I may not understand why you love me so much most of the time, and I’m not sure I ever will, but I am so fucking grateful that you do…”

He smiled and moved his lips from her knuckles to her face, kissing both of her swollen eyes, licking away the tears, caressing her cheekbones, and returning to their throne on her lips. 

She melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. He cradled her head in his hands as he kissed her gently, making sure not to push her too far, and the weight on her shoulder lifted. Matt's kisses were the medicine to her pain on stormy days. 

Pulling away, their forehead remained pressed together as their heartbeats and breaths intertwined, becoming one with the invisible string that was always there, keeping them tied together. Especially now she could feel it, craving his touch more than anything, and she recharged in his embrace, choosing to cling to the little bit of hope he seemed to want to transfer onto her. 

He smiled softly, sensing the way her muscles started to relax under his fingers. “That’s my girl,” he breathed. 

She shivered, moving impossibly closer. 

Matt stroked her head back, kissing her softly on the lips again, lingering for a second before pulling away. “You hungry?” 

She was hungry, but she didn’t have an appetite. 

“How about I make you something while I call Mrs. Darcy and you just lay back and rest?”

Eliza succumbed to her hunger and the exhaustion of the past few days. She nodded, crawling back into bed as he tucked her in, pressing another gentle kiss to her forehead. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said. 

She laid back on the pillows, closing her eyes. The demons in her head momentarily silenced, and she listened to the sound of Matt’s movements in the kitchen. 

She was brought back to the present by the sound of his footsteps approaching. Opening her eyes, she saw him carrying a tray laden with a plate of food and a cup of tea. “You made my favorite,” she pointed out when she saw what he was carrying. 

He smiled. “I made your comfort food because you need comfort.”

“And tea.”

“Yeah, you need it.”

He was right, she did need it. 

She ate and drank slowly. Her stomach protested at first, but after the initial ache subsided, she managed to swallow the bites of her sandwich better, and the tea flowed effortlessly down her esophagus. 

Matt rubbed her thigh as he sat next to her. His fingers painted absentminded pictures on her skin, her muscles relaxing under his touch. He was a magician with the ability to peek beneath the surface, and he acted on her needs without needing words. It came naturally to him, almost. Taking care of her was a reflex, and he carried the ability to read her like an open book with the utmost pride because when it came to Eliza that was a rarity. She wasn’t an open book, at least not to most people, but no matter how well she locked herself away, he always found his way around her defenses. He had this way of getting under her skin and into her soul, and she could push him away all she wanted, he was confident enough now to keep her around because he knew she didn’t want to push him away, she simply wanted to protect herself. 

She wanted to protect her fragile little heart and she wanted to protect him from the person she could become when the world became too much for her fragile little heart, but Matt was the last person to shy away. He, too, was broken. He couldn’t possibly judge her or see her as a burden when he was just the same. So he stood by her because it felt like the most natural thing to do, knowing that if life hit him as hard as it did her, she would do the same for him, and he didn’t even doubt it for a second. He knew her well enough by now, even better than she knew herself. He wanted to protect her heart; she couldn’t do it by herself anymore. She needed a shield and he would offer it to her. 

He loved her with a passion that exceeded the powers of the universe, and he was sure that they could overcome anything with the strength they shared through the connection of their invisible string, something he had yet to understand, but that was something he would concern himself with if it ever became important enough to become an issue. For now, their connection was a once-in-a-lifetime gift, and broken human beings like them needed each other or life would surely find a way to end them. The invisible string saved their lives and there was nothing more to it than that. It was plain and simple, almost, but deep and vulnerable just the same, like the ocean’s tide. 

Eliza placed her hand on his, her eyes closed. She took a deep breath. He was scared and tired, but he was trying for both of them. She could feel his devotion deep in his soul. It kept her grounded, making sure she wouldn’t slip from the precipice again, not without a rope to save her just in case. She needed his calm, she needed his love, and at that moment, she felt everything. 

His veins glowed a distinctive red when she touched him. Time stood still. The world outside didn’t exist. Everything else melted away, the pain and the fear, and then it was only them left and endless possibilities to lean on each other and breathe. She breathed and he breathed and their heartbeats aligned. Their souls became one. Their connection deepened. She was in him and he was in her. He lived in her heart and she found a home of her own in his. They built their defenses back up together, but this time there was no differentiating when it came to seeking solace from the prying eyes of reality. 

“What’s happening to us?” Matt dared to ask. His voice bordered on a whisper.

Her grip on his hand tightened. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “I just feel you, and that’s enough for me.”

He felt her. He felt all of her. It was a vulnerable feeling. His soul lay wide open and exposed, as did hers. 

“You feel me?”

“Yeah.”

“I feel you,” he whispered. 

“You do?”

“Yeah, all of you.”

Their foreheads pressed together like magnets. Matt reached out to stroke a strand of hair out of her face and she shuddered at the touch.

“I miss myself,” her vulnerable confession hung in the room like the red smoke that clouded her vision.

The red in his veins subsided, but the strength of his hold never wavered. “I know it feels like you’re not,” his fingers moved from her forehead to her lips, “but you have never been more yourself.”

“I’m scared…”

“Shh, I know.” He shushed her with a gentle kiss on her lips. “I’ve got you.”

“I’m just so tired.”

Her exhaustion was more than evident, and he would have been able to tell even without his heightened perception. Her heart was beating, but she hardly felt like it was. She couldn’t find a pulse. Her heart and muscles weighed heavy. Her limbs were dragging on the floor, too heavy for her to lift, and she was slowly melting into a puddle from the painful fire in her soul that started to turn her skin into wax. She was falling apart without actually breaking, like an unfinished cake collapsing in on itself. 

Matt put the mug and plate aside. He began scratching the puddle that she was off the floor by pushing her back into the pillows. He tucked her in, the blanket enveloping her like a safe cocoon. The comfort warmed her sore body and functioned as a balm to her shattered soul, as did the love he poured into every fleeting touch. His hand lingered on her cheek, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone which had become more protruding over time. 

Pressing a kiss on her forehead, he got up. “You need to rest,” he told her. “I’ll take care of everything else. You just lay back and try to close your eyes for a few minutes.”

But Eliza caught his hand and her teary eyes gazed up at him with utmost devotion. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

He squeezed her hand in his. “Anything for you, my love.”

She didn’t protest when he stepped out, closing the bedroom door behind him only enough to keep the sunlight out. There was a small gap between the frame and the door, a small point of escape if she started to feel trapped. She appreciated his consideration. The words got stuck in her throat and she gave up, succumbing to the warmth of their shared bed and the silence that finally settled into her mind and the world around her. It was a peaceful silence, a welcomed moment of peace without the usual chaos raging inside of her like the dead sea. 

[andybondurant]

New Post has been published on Andy Bondurant

New Post has been published on https://andybondurant.com/2023/02/14/anxiety-finding-peace-in-an-anxious-world/

Anxiety: Finding Peace in an Anxious World

How do you find peace in an anxious world? Is curing anxiety as simple as remembering the stories of God’s goodness?

Anxiety in America

Anxiety is a real problem. According to some National Institute of Mental Health 18% (or 40 million) of Americans suffering from Anxiety Disorder. Others estimate this number to be too low based on people who never seek help or are misdiagnosed. They suggest the number could be as high as 30% of Americans suffering from anxiety. 

Of those who suffer from anxiety, 56% have a moderate to high degree of anxiety. So not only do a high number of Americans deal with anxiety (somewhere between 40 and 70 million people), but 20-40 million people deal with a higher level of anxiousness. 

Anxiety is a real problem.

My anxiety

While I’ve never been diagnosed with anxiety disorder, I do know the feeling of tightness in my chest, a sense of overwhelming fear, and being too locked up emotionally to make a decision. It’s a horrible feeling. The pandemic of 2020-2021 was a major source of anxiety for myself and millions (billions?) of others. We are living in a world of trauma.

I remember years ago this overwhelming sense of dread driving home from a week long vacation. It had been a beautiful getaway with just Kia and another couple, and now we were making the 10-hour drive home. Pulling away from our lodging, I began to think of a major event I was in charge of just a few weeks away. My pulse raced. My chest tightened. I was overwhelmed.

In the midst of this minor panic attack, I needed help.

We all need help. For some of us, this means we need the help of a professional therapist and medication. That route is always an option, and very possibly the best option for you. If you suffer from anxiety, I encourage you to find the help of a good counselor.

But I also believe help can be found in your faith.

Anxiety in the Psalms

We don’t know much about Asaph in the Bible. It seems he was a Levite who David put in charge of singing in Jerusalem’s Temple. We know Asaph also wrote Psalm 77. He wrote and sang for David, himself and God. Maybe the words of Psalm 77 were for David, who if he were alive today, could easily be diagnosed with clinical depression, anxiety disorder, or some other mental health problem. Of course, there weren’t therapists or medication for David thousands of years ago, so we see David and others like Asaph deal with their anxiety through writing — mostly in the Psalms. Psalms 77 is a wonderful example of walking through the process of finding peace in a time of intense fear and worry.

Be real…

Asaph begins by explaining his irritation with God (vss 1-3). It seems God is silent in a time of need. Asaph continues with his frustration, and then he asks six pointed questions of God (vss 4-9). He asks questions like, “Has God rejected me?” “Has God forgotten to be gracious?” “Is God really loving and faithful?”

Then Asaph reaches his lowest, most fatalistic point:

“And I said, “This is my fate;  the Most High has turned his hand against me.””  

-‭‭Psalms‬ ‭77‬:‭10‬ ‭NLT‬‬

This is no longer a question, but it is a statement. God is against me. I have all the evidence I need through my fear, worry, and doubt, and on top of all of this…God is silent!

If you find yourself in this same place, I encourage you to be like Asaph. Be real with both yourself and God. It does you no good to pretend that everything is okay. It doesn’t help to ignore your feelings. You won’t find health – in your faith, emotions, or even your physical body – if you are honest with yourself and God.

Don’t be afraid to be real with God. He is God. He can handle ALL of your emotions. God created you and your emotions. He understands you intimately.

…then recall

Something switches in Asaph after asking these questions of God (in truth, accusing God of being faithless). Beginning in verse eleven, Asaph stops and remembers.

“But then I recall all you have done, O Lord;  I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago.” ‬‬

-‭‭Psalms‬ ‭77‬:‭11‬ ‭NLT

At his lowest point, Asaph makes a choice to remember all the good things God has done. Beginning in verse 15, Asaph briefly recaps the story of God leading the people of Israel through the Red Sea — saving them from Pharaoh. But I want you to notice something Asaph does in this retelling of the story:

Asaph weaves his story into Israel’s story.

In the final two verses of the chapter, Asaph says, 

“Your road led through the sea,  your pathway through the mighty waters—  a pathway no one knew was there!  You led your people along that road like a flock of sheep,  with Moses and Aaron as their shepherds.”‬‬

-Psalms‬ ‭77‬:‭19‬-‭20‬ ‭NLT

Asaph remembers how Moses and Aaron led the people through the Red Sea, but it’s not just Moses’ story. Asaph recalls an action common in that culture — a shepherd leading a flock of sheep through a dangerous path. His experience tells him this is how God sees us. We are God’s sheep, and he leads us through dangerous and dark paths. 

It’s as if Asaph points back to David’s famous Psalm 23:

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures.  He leads me beside still waters.  He restores my soul.  He leads me in paths of righteousness  for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,  I will fear no evil,  for you are with me;  your rod and your staff,  they comfort me.” ‭‭‬‬

-Psalm‬ ‭23‬:‭1‬-‭4‬ ‭ESV

Asaph knows God led the Israelites through that dark road. So he remembers the times God walked with him through his own dark valleys. What about you?

In your own life, it’s time to remember the goodness of God. If you are currently in a season of anxiety, this will be medicine for your soul. If you feel healthy and whole, it is preparing you for the next time you are afraid, worried or upset.

Go do it!

You find peace through remembering the good things God has done for yourself and other people. 

So today, I challenge you to make two lists. I want you to write them down either physically in a journal or notepad or digitally as a note in your phone.

First, ask yourself, “What good things has God done for other people?”

Make a list of stories from both scripture and from examples God’s goodness in friends and family members. 

Second, ask, “What good things has God done in my life?”

Now make a list of both the big things and the small things which are examples of God’s goodness in your life.

Anxiety is real. It’s a problem that will only grow, but you can be free. Find help if you need it, but I want you to mix in the remembrance of the goodness of God in your life.

[rons-wheezely]

224 || G.W.

George Weasley x Reader, Soulmate AU

Genre: Fluff, humor

Summary: Each soulmate pair receives a special number to them, and them only, on the day they’re born into this world. The placement on the body can vary, so people usually keep to themselves unless they fancy someone or it’s displayed somewhere public. How do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?

A/N: i have been so inactive, I’m so sorry rip I am going to try to post a fic here and there, but I’m still a student doing student things... This blog recently turned 2 years old, and has reached about 300 followers, so thank you so much for those of you who have found me in the piles of other wonderful works :) I love you all from the bottom of my heart.

--x--

“Oh, do forgive me, Georgie,” you playfully shove him out of the way. He stumbles away from the shelf containing the last package of Fizzing Whizbees in time for you to snatch it into your hands. You hear him chuckle as he regains his balance behind you. It’s suffocatingly crowded with fellow students in Honeydukes, so he leans in close so you can hear him. 

His warm breath comes close to your ear, saying with a soft laugh,” At least share, alright?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully as the smile plastered on your face turned into a smirk. You make your way to the cashier with George close behind. The candy in the box shake in your hands, and the decorative ring you’re wearing on your middle finger glimmers in the shop’s light. You call over your shoulder,” If you win the next match against Slytherin, I might.” 

This statement alone had George fist pump the air in satisfaction. Even if he lost, you would most likely share it anyways –– to cheer him up, of course. You two have been best friends since your first year when you cleverly evaded one of the twins’ pranks. It was a lucky guess, but the outcome left Fred and George tangled in a mess of burping up slugs for three hours. It was an easy friendship after that, other than the secret feelings you harbored for George, that is. 

Soon enough, the match came and the sight was an absolutely thrilling one. You watch as each player flies by, and each time the wind sweeps your hair in every direction. Fred and George are on a spectacular streak, and they never once miss the bludger. Thankfully you had a pair of binoculars and Lee Jordan’s commentary; the team was so small in the air that it was hard to tell what was happening.

Harry Potter was no doubt going to catch the snitch, and here he comes now swooping in underneath his teammates. He’s almost flat against his broomstick, urging it to go faster before Malfoy could get to the fluttering golden speck. All eyes are on Potter, and the boy is mere inches away. Just as his nimble fingers wrap around the snitch, another Gryffindor teammate drops from the air.

You can hear the subtle gasps from a few in the crowd who noticed. The Gryffindor team were too enraptured with Harry’s catch to notice that one of them was dropping ten, twenty, thirty meters to the ground. “George!” You cried.

As if sending a telepathic message to the other twin, though it is most likely he heard you yell as clear as day, Fred swoops down to save his brother from impact. You notice now that you're standing on your feet and leaning on the railing that separates you from your best friends on the field. You watch on in horror as Fred barely makes it in time. The breath you didn’t know you were holding finally escapes you, and your surroundings come back all at once. 

You hear the deafening silence and the sound of the wind blowing by. No one moves as they watch Fred land on the ground with George. It was Lee who ended the tension,” And with that, Gryffindor earns 130 points and has won the match…” 

All at once, everyone in the stands scrambles to get out. Elated with Harry’s catch and the twins’ safety, the student body goes their separate ways. You follow them as well and weave your way through the crowd to get to Fred and George. Panic fills your lungs, and every fiber in your body screams to make sure they’re okay.

“Fred!” You call out,” Are you two alright?”

“Yeah, no harm done to me,” he sighs,” –– Other than this git. A bludger whacked him straight on the side and he passed out on his ride down.” 

“It looks like it hurts… but it’s nothing Madame Pomfrey can’t handle, right?” You wince. You try to convince yourself that George is just sleeping a very deep, restful sleep.

“I reckon he’ll be fine, y/n.” Fred winks your way with a sly grin. “Visit him lots, yeah?”

Madame Pomfrey refused to let anyone in until she was done running some tests. When she finally let you visit, you rushed to sit next to George’s bedside. He stirred at your frantic movements and opened an eye to see you. “It’s not that bad is it?” He chuckles.

“She said that you’ve broken a few ribs, but you’ll be alright.” You smile. 

George sits up slowly, pretending to be in agonizing pain. You worry for a bit and reach out to him on instinct, but he laughs and tells you he’s okay. His torso is wrapped entirely with gauze over his clothes, and there are a few bandages wrapped around his forearms as well. Pomfrey had drawn a blanket over George earlier, so the white sheet still covered the lower half of his body. A moment goes by, and you hear a soft wheeze leaving George’s lips. “You don’t suppose my soulmate is into beaten up ginger-heads, do you?”

“Well,” you mull over your words. Pretending to take his question seriously, you answer,” they would have if you were Fred..” You laugh a little as you catch the glint in his eyes –– the mischievous one you had grown to love. 

“Oh, if only I looked exactly like that bloke.” He jokes. His head falls a little forward as he laughs. His gaze is drawn to his lap, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he looked like those shy love interests in romantic muggle films. 

You notice that his fiery hair is covering his eyes, and your body compels you to get another glimpse of that wonderful boy’s face. Ever so gently, you reach your hand out and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. When your fingers curve around the back of his ear, you notice a few dark marks of what looks like a tattoo. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion. You go to move more of his hair out of the way, but he turns his eyes to you. 

“Are you getting handsy with me y/n? Tryin’ to make a move, are you?” He smiles, but there is a small panic in his eyes as they frantically search yours. “You could’ve just asked me out, you know.”

“Is that your soulmate mark?” You ask.

“Maybe.”

“Well,” you huff playfully,” I might be able to tell you who your soulmate is. I might cry if your soulmate is Madame Pomfrey, though.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, a playful tone in his voice.

"Georgie, please don’t tell me you have a thing for milfs.”

It takes everything in him to hold back his laughter. George pulls his hair back to reveal the numbers 224 etched behind his left ear. Your breath catches in your throat, but you try to hide your very obvious shock. 224 was a number you knew too well, and seeing that number reflected on your best friend’s skin meant that your deepest feelings were true. It’s okay to be in love with George because now... now there is chance he feels the same way.

Your mark is tattooed on the band of your middle finger, which is usually covered up by jewelry. You fidget with your rings nervously, trying to ground yourself all the while. George doesn’t pay too much attention to it when he says,“Fred has his numbers on his right ear. I might be the right-hand man, but he’s lucky enough to be the right-ear man.”

You laugh at his really bad pun,” Really? Out of all of the ear jokes, you chose that one?” 

“It made you laugh, didn’t it?” He nudges you with his shoulder, and you can’t help but giggle some more.

“Would you like to hear a fun fact?” You ask. You gulp down all of the fear that has started to swallow you whole. You are George’s soulmate. The idea buzzes in your head along with a million other thoughts. George nods for you to continue, and you fight the panicked urge to scream. “...In the muggle world, they have such advanced technology.”

“Yeah, dad would know––” George interjects for a second.

“The numbers 224 actually hold a meaning to them. It’s something like a code–– it’s related to their fancy devices I think? Anyways,” you take a deep breath. You remember vividly the details your friend went to great lengths explaining to you. 

“Your number is all kinds of special, y/n!” Mae beams at you. Her eyes twinkle in an amusing manner as she tries to prove herself. A soft thud could be heard when her hands meet with the common room table, and she quickly jumps to her feet. “Imagine, having such a fantastic number as that!” She exclaims with awe.

“I don’t understand?” You bemusedly remark. Why would numbers hold more meanings beyond your standard soulmate reason?

“My brother loves binary code, a certain muggle science,” she explains,” and he told me a few meanings. One of them being yours! Now, if only fate would tell us who your soulmate was...”

If Mae were in this room, she would be bursting at the seams from pure glee. You look into George’s eyes and say,” ...the numbers actually mean something along the lines of ‘Today, Tomorrow, Forever.’ It has to do with the bond you and your soulmate have together.“

He blinks once or twice before breaking out into a grin,” Okay, can you say it again but,” he emphasizes,” simpler, maybe?

“––it means that your soulmate will love an accident-prone idiot like you forever and always,” You joke halfheartedly.

The familiar gleaming smile he wore after a successful prank creeps up onto his face: one of self satisfaction and deserving of many awards based on looks alone. His smile is much gentler and you almost miss it, but a blush tints the very tips of his cheeks. “Oh? wait ‘till dad finds out that numbers have meanings to muggles. How’d you know all of this anyway?”

“Oh, it’s just something my friend talked to me about.” You dismiss his questioning gaze and clear your throat. Every second that passes makes you more and more anxious being around George, simply just by knowing you two are soulmates. It’s a dream come true, sure. But how do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?

“Are you alright, y/n?” George asks. “You seem real fidgety. Do you need to go somewhere?”

“Oh–– no, it just that,” you gulp. “Well.. I think left the Fizzing Whizbees back in my dorm room.” You lie. You know it’s in your bag with your other belongings, safely tucked away for later consumption. “Post-game snacks are essential, and I did make a promise.”

“Are you sure you left it there? I thought I saw it in your bag...” He leans over to find your bag, and sure enough, he pulls out the box of candy.

“Oh.” You look at him. There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat.

“You’ve really got to get yourself together mate–– looks like Nearly Headless Nick showed you his neck hole again or something.” George jokes to lighten the mood, but he’s right. The longer you sit there and stare at him, the more you either want to slam your lips against his or vomit profusely. You feel pale and sickly; just enough to feel the twists and turns of your stomach. Is this what having butterflies feel like? He opens the bag of candy and offers you some.

You share the box of whizbees with him, taking one out and popping them into your mouth. It fizzes and jolts a little as the sweet taste melts on your tongue. “I think maybe Fred slipped something to me earlier,” you avert your gaze,” I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, sounds like Fred.” George grabs your hand and looks you in the eyes. He’s rubbing soothing circles on your hands, and it does seem to relax some of your nerves. He looks at you softly and gently, and all at once, your anxiety starts to melt away in his presence. You almost forget why you’re so worried in the first place. “You know I’m not going anywhere. If you have to take a massive shit, I’ll wait for you.” He says as he pats your hand reassuringly.

You erupt into laughter and shove him away. “And here I thought we were having a moment.”

“Nothing says true love like bowl movements, darling.”

As the laughter dies down, the somber feeling in your gut returns. It’s now or never, right? “George, I think I need to tell you something. I—“

Fred bursts into the door with Lee following shortly behind. “There’s my favorite twin!” He beams. He gets a disapproving look from Madame Pomfrey peering around the corner from her office. Fred doesn’t pay much attention, choosing to walk past her with barely a glance over his shoulder. George rolls his eyes as Fred happily trots over, spilling some liquid from two mugs in his hands. “—had to have Lee help sneak these in for the party, which you lot are missing out on.” He hands you a mug of butter beer and George, the other.

You decide to drop the subject even after George was free from the hospital bed. It’s a few weeks since then, and school has made you push those thoughts of pesky soulmates and true love aside. Of course, George kept looking at you funny, waiting for you to bring it up again. To his dismay, you didn’t.

“Alright everyone, class is dismissed.” Professor Sprout announces as she busies herself in setting up plants for the next day. It’s the last class of the day, and you couldn’t be happier. Repotting plants was hard work, and you were sweaty enough as it is. Beads of sweat dripped down the side of your face, and as much as you hated it, it did make for good eye candy across the room — namely George, although there’s a lot of dirt smudged onto his face too.

He’s cleaning up rather quickly so you call out to him,” Can you grab my rings, Georgie? They’re over there by my bag.” You had to remove jewelry in order to “safely handle” the creatures and wear proper gloves. Those of which you hastily pull off to wash your hands. The suds come and go as you lather and rinse away in the sink.

“Today, tomorrow, forever eh?” George’s deep voice rumbles in your ear. You jump a little at the sudden scare. “I think I like the sound of that, don’t you?”

You turn your head a little to the side and come very close to George’s face. You can feel his breath fanning on your skin, and his nose is just barely touching yours. You fear that if you blink, the sight in front of you will vanish. Every freckle that glitters his skin is so close you could count them like the stars and draw constellations between them if you wanted to. It’s absolutely breathtaking. Your body feels like it’s on a cloud— so feather light and airy— as he smiles at you. Your throat is dry; your tongue struggles to keep up with your thoughts. “...what?” You choke out. You cover your hands on impulse, but you know it’s too late.

“It means you’re stuck with me forever, y/n.” He grins. “Soulmate magic is no joke, you know.” He hands you your rings and walks beside you out of the greenhouse. You slip the rings on to your middle finger where it’s always resided, deciding to fidget with it a little.

Nothing should be different. You’re walking with George in the hallways like you always do, your hair is no different than yesterday, and class was the same as an other day. And yet your heart is beating faster and the sun seems to shine brighter. The grass is greener and the lake bluer than it was this morning. Words remain unspoken, but the truth is there. His fingers are interlocked with yours. 224.

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

the moment i knew // bucky barnes

Summary: When Bucky comes back from a mission with Natasha you can’t help but think something has changed between you and start doubting if this relationship is something Bucky really wants.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: insecure reader, jealousy, miscommunication, curse words, angst, fluff, drunk reader 

A/N: As always, please remember English is not my first language. I tried my best to write this, please don’t be rude. Also, thanks to @pistachoz​ for helping me and proofreading this!!

divider by @firefly-graphics​

You had never considered yourself as someone jealous, you believed it was an awful feeling, irrational. But you couldn't help the sense of discomfiture forming in the pit of your stomach when there was evidence for you to feel that way. Bucky has been on a mission with Natasha for two weeks, this was the first time the two were sent alone. In the beginning, you didn’t worry about it because- you were aware of the past your boyfriend and the black widow shared, but Bucky had always assured you that it was in the past and he didn't see her as anything more than a friend. He made sure to show you every day how in love he was with you, and you didn’t remember the last time you felt this happy with someone. 

But this mission changed everything. 

Bucky usually calls you to check on you, even if he’s busy he always finds a way to text or call you, but this time he hadn’t even answered you. You got worried at first, millions of thoughts of what could have happened racing in your mind, but when Natasha contacted Tony to assure him they were okay, all you could wonder was why hadn't your boyfriend contacted you.

You gave him the deficit of the doubt and tried not to take his avoidance the wrong way but when they came back, he went straight to his room without even sparing a glance your way. What game was he playing at? What has happened on that mission to make your boyfriend act this way?

“You should go to talk to him,” Wanda advised  “I’m sure there’s a reason for him acting this way”

“Oh yeah? And what is it?” you scoffed. 

You were in Wanda’s bedroom. She was your best friend, always supporting you when you needed it, this time was no different.

“Y/N, you know Bucky. He’s not that kind of guy. I’m sure there’s a reason. Stop being stubborn and go to talk to him”

You looked at her; she was giving you the “mom look”. You sighed. You loved Bucky, and you didn’t want to lose him. There had to be a reason, right? You knew he loved you, he even said he wanted to grow old and have a future with you. 

You get up from Wanda’s bed. “You’re right,” You walked out of your friend’s bedroom and made your way to your boyfriend’s room. When you reached the corner of his hallway, you hear a door opening and people laughing. You put your head out the corner and you saw Natasha on the doorstep of your boyfriend’s bedroom. He was there too. Shirtless. She laughed at something he said and you didn’t catch and she smacked his right arm in a joking way. He was laughing too. You had never seen your boyfriend laugh that way with anyone other than you. Or Steve. And maybe Sam. But with Natasha? Never. Also, he hated when people invaded his personal space and touched him without permission.

You huffed as tears pricked at the back of your eyes and made your way back to your friend’s bedroom. Once there, you closed the door and slid to the floor. All the anger you once had turning bitterly into sadness, poisoning every fiber in your being. Tears started to blossom on your eyes and sliding through your cheeks. Wanda ran towards you and embraced you in her arms, asking what had happened, stroking your hair, in an attempt of calming you.

Sobbing you tried to tell her what you saw, the more you cried the hard it was talking and breathing for you. Wanda got you up from the floor and walked you to her bed, she cupped your face in her hands and wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“Breath, Y/N” She breathed in and on with you until you calmed a little. 

You didn’t understand how he could do this to you. After all the things you had done for him. All the panic attacks, all the nightmares, and the sleepless nights you shared with him. And that is the way he repaid you? Going on your back with your friend?

And Nat, you had trusted her, the countless times you had told her things you would say to anyone, she was your friend and she assured she felt nothing for him anymore. She assured what happened between her and Bucky was done. You feel betrayed by two of the most important people in your life. 

If he wasn’t happy with you, he could have told you. Yes, it would have hurt, but not much hurt as the one you were feeling right now.

“Are you sure that was what you saw? Maybe you misinterpreted it,” Wanda was trying to help, knowing Bucky and Natasha, it was impossible to think they would do such a thing to you.

“Wanda, if you saw Vis shirtless laughing at night with another woman in his bedroom, and this woman is touching him, what would you think? How can you misinterpret that?” It wasn’t about being open-minded, permissive, or controlling. It was about respect. There are things you don’t do if you are in a relationship with someone. He was out a lot of nights with Sam and Steve, and you were okay with that. You didn’t mind if he has girl-friends. But what you saw today and his attitude towards you in the last two weeks was something you could not ignore.

Wanda paused for a moment, thinking about what to say to you to make you feel better “Well…if they’re really doing this to you, then fuck them. They don’t deserve you,” your friend stated, “this defines them, but not you.” 

You sniffled wiping your nose with the back of your hand. Your eyes were red from crying and they started to hurt. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

You usually slept with Bucky, either you went to his room or he came to yours. But tonight that wasn’t an option. Possibly, that wouldn’t be an option anymore.

“Of course,” She wasn’t going to leave you alone when you were going through such a hard time. You had always been there for her, and now she was going to be there for you.

When Pietro died, and she came to the Avengers Compound you were the first one to came and check up on her, you didn’t ask her how she was feeling, that was a stupid and obvious question, you just stay there with her, offering your support. And from that moment she knew you were going to be a very important part of her life.

“Now try to sleep. If you don’t rest, you won’t heal”

The next day came sooner than you would have wanted to. The sunlight coming through the windows made you rub your eyes. 

“How did you sleep?” Wanda was lying next to you, she had just woken up a few seconds before you. 

“Not my best night,” You sat up in bed and rubbed your temples. 

You felt her hand on your shoulder and you looked at her “I’m with you, okay?” You’re not alone,” She gave you a reassuring smile.

You were going to have to face Bucky and Natasha, and you weren’t prepared for that. When you reached the kitchen, you could hear their laughs again. The same laughs from last night. You took a deep breath and pursed your lips, trying to suppress the tears that were starting to form in your eyes. Not again. Not in front of them.

When your boyfriend noticed your presence, he turned his attention towards you, a wide smile spread on his face. “Hey, doll” He started to make his way to you “I went to your room last night but you weren’t there” Was he seriously like he didn’t ignore you for two weeks and yesterday acted like you didn’t exist? What a scoundrel.

He hovered over you, trying to wrap his arms around you but you dodged him. A confused look formed on his face. “I slept with Wanda. You seemed very busy, didn’t want to bother you.” You didn’t let him answer, just made your wake to the counter to pour two coffee mugs, one for you and one for your best friend.

Everybody was wearing confused looks at your behavior, you had never acted this way towards Bucky; you were quite the opposite, always hugging, kissing, or holding hands. Your PDA was something that drove the team crazy sometimes, but they were happy for you. Acting like this set alarms on everybody’s head. What the hell happened between you two?

Bucky tried to talk to you the whole day but managed to slip through his fingers. He wanted an explanation. He wanted to know what he had done to make you act this way towards him. You two were fine when he left on that mission, so what had happened in that two weeks he was gone?

He finally found his chance when he caught you alone in the gym. This time you wouldn’t walk away.  

“Y/N,” his voice was firm but not harsh, “Can we talk, please?”

“I don’t have time” You kept punching the bag and ignoring his presence. That’s it. He had enough. He grabbed your arm and turned you to him. Face to face.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Let me go” You pointed at your grabbed arm with your eyes and he let you go. 

Bucky huffed. “What did I do?”

You looked at him perplexed. Was he being serious?  “Are you really asking me that?”

“Y/N, honestly. I don’t know what I did.”

“You didn’t call, and neither answered any of my texts.”

“Really? That’s why you are mad? My phone broke and I couldn’t contact you”

You chuckled. What a lame excuse. “Of course. What about Nat then? You could have asked for her phone”

He frowned. “I told her to text to you, to tell you I was okay”

“Well, she didn’t”

“Maybe she forgot. I don’t know. It’s not much of a deal”

You were starting to get exasperated. He didn’t get it. 

“You know what, Bucky? Fuck you!” That was the last thing you said to him before you left the gym. Wanda was right. He didn’t deserve you, and he didn’t deserve your tears either. 

You didn’t hear of Bucky for the rest of the day. Now you were sitting in your bed, a framed picture of the two of you in your hands. Your eyes started burning. You missed him. You didn’t want to miss him. You two were happy, didn’t you? You didn’t understand what you had done wrong. 

You hear a knock on your door, you put the frame down on your bed and wiped your eyes. “Come in” 

The door of your bedroom opened to let you see who you used to consider a friend. What was she doing here?

“Get out” you got up from bed abruptly and pointed at the door. Natasha looked at you shocked. 

“Y/N, w-” you didn’t let her finish her sentence. 

“OUT. NOW.” But she didn’t budge. She just stayed there, looking at you. You finally got tired and pushed her out of your bedroom.

“Y/N, Calm down. I just wanna talk to you” You didn’t answer, closing the door in her face. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.” you called the AI system.

“Yes? Miss Y/N.”

“I don’t want anyone in my room. Don’t let anyone in. Only Wanda.”

“Alright. Miss Y/N. Do you want me to let Miss Maximoff know that you want to see her?”

“Yes, please.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y did as you told, and a few minutes later you hear a knock at your door. “Y/N. It’s me” You opened the door and crashed into the arms of your best friend. 

“Let’s get out of here. Please get me out of here.” The redhead looked at you worried.

“What happened?” she questioned.

“I don't wanna talk about it now. I just- I can’t be here”

Wanda looked at you sympathetically and wiped the tears off your face the same way she did last night. 

“Okay,” she nodded “Let’s get out. We are going to have a girls day”

When you came back to the compound it was late at night. You were stumbling, arm slugged on Wanda’s neck. You had drunk a little too much, trying to cop-out. Your mother always said that being drunk is the anesthesia of the fools.

“Best night EVER!” you yelled, raising your fist to the air.

Wanda hushed you. You were going to wake up the rest of the team. “Wan, you're so hot.” you keep babbling, Wanda laughed, she was going to make sure to remind you this night tomorrow. “I love you soooooo much”

“I love you too, Y/N”

“You’re like my best best friend” 

“You drank too much, Y/N. You need to sleep”

You shook your head, “No, no Imma go talk to him”

Wanda dragged to your best. “You’re going to sleep. You can talk to Bucky tomorrow”

“NOW!”

“Now you’re going to sleep” Wanda stated, getting tired of your drunk state. You looked at her, she looked so intimidating, you nodded like a scared puppy and did as she told. The moment your body hit your bed you fell asleep. “You’ll thank me tomorrow,” She said before stepping out of your room.

Sunlight streams golden through the window. You raised your heavy eyelids halfway only for them to fall shut again. The aching in your skull ebbs and flows like a cold tide. Now you understand why they call it a hangover. Perhaps some painkillers would help.

You hear a knock on your door, you groaned and wrapped yourself in your duvet, hoping that whoever was out the door would just go away. But the knock persists, louder each time.

Once on your feet the room swayed, almost causing you to lose balance and you reached for the wall. This feeling made you think you had to have fun last night but somehow it wasn’t in your memory.

The reflection on the mirror in the wall shows no sign of the glamour girl of last night. You rubbed your eyes before opening the door. 

“Wanda told me you would need this,” Bucky handed some painkillers and a glass of water in his hands. The cracking in your head and your dry mouth were too strong to ignore them and to kick out your boyfriend. You took the pill from his hand and threw them in your mouth followed by the glass of water.

“Fun night?” he asked, entering the room and closing the door.

“You could say that”

Bucky sat in your bed as you went into the bathroom. “You never handed alcohol well,” he chuckled under his breath.

“Bucky, what do you want?” you asked tiredly

“You and I have a pending conversation”

You sighed. “Now it’s not the best moment. Besides, I look awful”

“You always look beautiful,” he said softly, walking carefully to you, he brushed a piece of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Don't do this. Not now.” you closed your eyes, melting under his touch.

“Don’t do what? Telling you how I feel?”

“What happened between you and Nat?” you finally asked, the alcohol remaining in your system putting your defenses down. You didn’t want to fight. You just wanted to know. What Natasha had that you hadn’t?

Your question didn’t startle Bucky, not shocked him either. Little you know, Wanda had gone to his room last night, after she made sure you were asleep to question Bucky about his behavior towards you on the last few weeks. She cared for you, so much. You were like a sister to her, and she wouldn’t let anyone take advantage of you or make you feel like you weren’t worthy.

“There’s nothing between me and Natasha. I promise.” he said sincerely “I’m in love with you.”

“Then why didn’t you call or text me? Two weeks, Bucky. I hadn't heard from you in two weeks. You had me worried. We always call and text each other when we are on a mission”

“I told you, my phone broke. I told Nat to text you, I don’t know why she didn’t do it. I’m sorry”

You looked down. Bucky has never lied to you, and he has never given you a motive to mistrust him.

“What about the day you came? You ignored me the whole day”

“I was tired. All I wanted was to clean up and rest.”

“With Natasha?” you inquired

He looked at you confused, not knowing what you were talking about. “I went to your room that night, Natasha was there and you were shirtless”

He rubbed his face. “Oh, Y/N. That doesn’t mean what you think,” you looked at him, waiting for him to explain himself  “She just came to check up on me, I just came out of the shower, she didn’t even come in”

“You were laughing, though.”

“And you think that means I cheat on you? You always laugh with Steve and Sam. And I don’t think you are cheating on me with them. Why is Natasha any different?”

“Because-” you were ashamed of showing your insecurities to Bucky. “she had you first.” You couldn’t help to compare yourself to your friend, she was prettier, she was smart. She was everything you were not.

“And you have me now,” he cupped your face “And I want you forever.”

Bucky bent down and closed the gap between you. Finally feeling his lips in yours and- oh god. How have you missed the way he feels. He kissed you with so much gentleness like you were going to break any minute, but that wasn’t what you wanted right now; you needed to let him know that you were there, you wanted to feel every part of his body against yours and reassure yourself that he wasn’t going anywhere. You knotted your fists in his shirt, pulling him closer if that was even possible. He groaned, his hands firmly on your hips and lips agape. When you pulled away you smiled and touched his lips with your fingers. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, doll,” he said circling his arms around you making his way towards your bed until you hit the mattress, his body hovering over yours. “We have so much time to make up to.” 

[cdroloisms]

i think that although the theories/aus of puffy's son dream and wil's brother dream are interesting to think about, especially the implications, the (probably) canon statement that he really has no family to me hits the hardest. because it's just dream, you know. his friends hate him, he has none (p relatable), but i can't really imagine,, both not having friends and not having a family. that's kind of what keeps a lot of us sane and okay ( - quill anon (same anon from the c!tubbo c!wil ask) )

ouch quill anon ,, this ask Hurt. it’s true - usually, it’s our family and friends that keep us going, that are the ones that we fight for and live for and love for. c!dream’s “family” was his reasoning behind ,, a lot of the stuff he did, good or bad, and even now you can hear his desperation in getting someone, anyone to visit sometimes, in wanting to know how people are doing outside the cell. 

at the same time, he’s a character very much defined by his solitude, by his isolation, by all of the time he has spent,, alone. by the alliances that had been broken, betrayed, forgotten. by how- at the end of the day - he sits for hours on end in an obsidian box with nothing but his thoughts to accompany him. it’s awfully ,, sad, despite everything he’s done. through it all, he’s alone. he survives the horrors of the vault (until this current arc) alone. nobody’s there to hear his thoughts. nobody knows his mindset, or feelings, or wants, or anything that really makes him human. for someone so driven by people, he spends so much time completely isolated - and it’s. honestly really, really tragic. 

anyway, this is a sad little drabble set pre-roommates arc abt c!dream in the prison, alone, bc he makes me Sad. 

tw: mentioned torture, abuse, violence, broken bones, blood, injuries, mental deterioration, isolation, panic attacks, self-deprecation, trauma, memory loss, death, contemplations of death, dark content, dark imagery

The blank book in his hand stares at him stubbornly, the stark white of the untouched pages nearly burning his eyes, used to the dark walls and floor of the cell. Dream’s hand shakes around his quill, ink splotches marring the pages from where his too-unsteady hand had let the nib brush against the paper and left freckles of black spots behind. He pulls his thumb back from the bottom left corner, hissing slightly when it leaves a dull red fingerprint behind, a smudge of half-dried blood further dirtying the paper.

He’d pulled out one of the books for some reason, probably on a whim, letting his hands run over the leather spine and along the thread of the binding absentmindedly after Quackity left for the day. He hadn’t touched them in a while - he liked to save them, at the beginning, just in case visitors came and he wanted to thank them or if he needed to communicate (though he hadn’t gone silent since Sapnap left, ‘cause Sapnap wanted him to talk and he doesn’t know why he still clings to that visit when it’s been months and he still hasn’t come back, but he promised that if Dream behaved he’d visit again and - it’s stupid to hope, but Dream can’t give up, not yet) and then he kept them because he would need them for the revive book and the Warden would confiscate them, anyway, so it was better not to get attached. Regardless, he’d stubbornly ignored the chest of books for a long time, let the remain closed and the clasp go unlatched as he wasted his days away watching the walls drip bright purple and pretend he didn’t miss his clock.

Until now.

He runs his fingers along the surface of the paper again, ignoring the red and black smudges they leave in their wakes, ruining the previously unblemished pages. The paper is smooth, bearing a very slight grain, and smells clean and woody - this book must’ve been a newer one the Warden replaced into the chest. He’d counted the pages a few times, front and back - there are fifty sheets, so a hundred pages to use as he sees fit, completely empty and untouched. The quill shakes in his hand, the tip pressed against the paper, unmoving.

What is there to write?

He’s forgotten why he pulled out the book in the first place, already - his head keeps getting fuzzier, memory impossibly fragmented and seemingly worsening with every passing day. He knows he had a reason because he’d been very determined about it, had spent what must have been hours dragging himself along the obsidian floor with a broken shinbone jutting out of his right leg and a dislocated left shoulder that he’d taken an extra few minutes to jam back in place by pressing it against the floor. Something had come into his head, probably in the middle of Quackity’s daily session, and he’d found himself desperate to write it down before he forgot despite the throbbing of his head and the pain in his chest making it impossible to take a full breath.

(He must have talked back, or acted defiant, or something - he doesn’t remember much besides the look Quackity had given him after, dark and angry and tight with rage. There had been a hand tangled in his hair, a blade jammed right up against his throat, curses and screams in his ears dying into a singular ringing echo as the blade was pushed deeper and deeper. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when Quackity realized that he’d gone too deep and that Dream was choking on his own blood - his memories shatter, and there’s nothing but more screaming, red and black and blood everywhere, warm against his skin, the sweet-sour taste of glistening melon on his tongue, a healing pot desperately stitching his skin together and bringing him back from the darkness that he’d swelled in the corners of his vision - mostly, he remembers everything going cold and numb and he’d realized, halfway into the Void, that he would never leave the Vault alive.)

His hands tighten on the book as he breathes a shallow, harsh breath through his teeth, because - oh. Oh. He looks back at the trembling white plume in his hand, at his shaking fingers clenched tightly near the end, and he swallows the thick, heavy feeling in his throat. Quackity had- and he had- and then-

Right.

He forces air into his lungs steadily, counting the seconds off in his head. He’d learned how to stave off panic attacks on his own ages ago, and the knowledge had come to full use in the Vault - the struggle to stay calm seems harder with every passing day, but he can’t exactly risk himself passing out every three seconds when he’s inevitably set off by the smell of blood or a twinge of pain or any of the million other triggers crammed into this tiny box that’s been the source of all of his torment for months. He keeps up the slow, steady breathing for another few minutes, just enough time to pull back the darkness creeping in from the edges of his vision, and looks back down at the blank paper.

It stares back at him, almost judgmental of his hesitancy. You opened me up, it seems to challenge him, why aren’t you writing? The quill still shakes in his hand. He doesn’t know if it’ll ever stop shaking again.

Dear, he begins, almost in defiance, proof that he Is Going To Write Something, thank you very much, he isn’t just going to chicken out and leave it a blank book (like you have before?) but the quill tip digs into the paper as he grinds to a sudden halt, the empty space next to the first word nearly taunting. He feels his mouth dry, heat rising behind his eyes - the book, silent and blank as ever, stays imprinted in his vision even as he squeezes them shut.

Dear, what a stupid, sentimental way to start a letter. He can’t even fool himself into thinking of it as a business venture, turn it into an elaborate plan to escape and address it to either Techno or Wilbur (who would never receive his message anyway), not without admitting his regard for the two edged past his pretense of professional interested and owed favors. He can hardly write it to Ranboo, not without compromising their already fragile alliance (if it even exists, anymore. The enderman hybrid had yet to visit for months - and sure, it was probably for the best, who knows how Quackity would react if he found out about the nature of their relationship, but that didn’t make it sting any less.)

In the back of his minds, name rise from where he’d kept them carefully buried despite his best efforts. Punz. Bad. Puffy. Sapnap. George. He shakes his head, trying to wave away them from his thoughts, but the effort is as fruitless as it has always been - he stares at the first word angrily, like it has betrayed him, and receives no response. The words are messy, shaking, his script overly looping and rounded like a child’s. He hates it, hates how cheery it looks, even on the bloodstained page - it looks like the beginning of a birthday card, or a perhaps a particularly dedicated Halloween party invite. Like he’s some sort of lovesick teen, writing letters to crushes that would never pay him a second glance. He laughed a little, without any real humor - minus the romance, that description isn’t all that far off.

Because- well. His memories might be shot to all hell, but he doubts he’ll ever forget the hatred on Sapnap’s face, a loaded crossbow pointed between his eyes, George’s expression set in disinterested apathy - “George, you can give the word.” Bad’s face, twisted in pity and resignation, voice carefully measured as he looks away and gestures at the cell, “you did do some pretty bad stuff to get put in here though, Dream,” the hidden “you deserve it” that he’d heard, just as clearly behind the words. Punz - “you should’ve paid me more” - jaw set stiffly as people poured through the portal, watching, wordless, as Dream bled out twice on that blackstone floor. Puffy, poorly hidden disgust flickering over her face as she looks away from him being dragged away in chains, sword held steady in her hands. Sapnap, that same fiercely determined expression on his face so familiar that thinking of it aches, even now, “it’s gonna be me, who takes your final life.” Months and months and months and months, alone.

Always, always, alone.

The page makes a quiet, complaining groan under his pen - he looks down to see it torn under the tip of his quill, the word completely unreadable under line after line of black ink scratched over it, each one deeper than the last. He stares blankly at it for a few minutes longer, the brief flash of anger that had seared through his body settling into numbness once more.

To whoever may find this: he scratches the words on the page slowly, keeping his print deliberately blocky and neat. The heavy feeling in his throat returns, stronger than ever, and he ignores it as he pushes on.

He pauses for a moment, wondering what more to write. Apologies? Accusations? He could detail every second that he remembers from Quackity’s visits, describe every inch of pain that had been pulled from his aching lungs, every line etched into his skin. He could apologize for every act of cruelty that had ever been caused by his hands, every bridge he’d ever torched to light the path to a better future. He could explain - everything, every tortured thought that had circled his head for hours on end and every night that had passed without any sleep and every time he’d pushed on without complaint or hesitancy because it would be worth it, even if he was the only one who saw it, it would be worth it because he’d sacrifice too much for it to be anything but. He could- he could, he could write and write until he’d filled every page of every book back and front, and would they even believe him? Would it even matter?

Goodbye, he writes at last. It feels strangely final. (He won’t be leaving this Vault alive. He knows this as surely as he knows that he will leave this world uncared for, unheard. As surely as he knows that he’ll always be alone.) With a quick snap of magic following the signing of his name, the book is preserved, shining slightly with a purple glow as he sets it back down in the chest. He looks around, the cell once again stiflingly quiet without the book to busy him, Dream once again completely alone as he’s been for - well.

(Pandas, eyebrows drawn in uncharacteristic seriousness from the usually painfully spirited eight-year-old, pinkie raised between the two of them, solemnity belied by the gap in his front teeth poking out between his lips.

“We’ll be together forever,” he whispered with the volume control you’d expect from a kid that age, which is to say that it wasn’t much of a whisper at all, but Dream, newly ten years old, remembers being particularly moved by the gesture anyway, moving to hesitantly hook his own pinkie in the other’s.

“And we’ll never be alone ever again,” he’d replied, voice faraway with a disbelieving sort of awe.”

“Never,” Pandas’ voice had been just as firm as his first statement, twisting his wrist to tighten the grip of their linked fingers further. “Best friends for ever and ever, right?”

“For ever and ever.”)

“For ever and ever,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut as he slumps down against the floor, and only the lava bubbles in reply.

[myaimistrue]

written for @spnwomenweek day one! the prompt was favorite character/skills. this is technically both, though my favorite spn women rotates on an hourly basis.

you can also read this on ao3!

Mary’s pregnant again. 

The baby isn’t an accident. She has reminded herself of this over and over again, that babies are never accidents when the mother is still so young and the family is still so small, when the parents are so obviously in love. In her circumstances, an unplanned child is just that—unplanned, but still welcome. An unexpected gift.

That knowledge doesn’t stop the uneasiness Mary’s felt within her since she saw those two little lines on the pregnancy test.

At the very least, John and Dean are happy about it. John, in fact, was over the moon when Mary told him that very day she found out, right when he came home from work. She isn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t the way he laughed warmly, gathering her up in his arms and pulling her close.

“Another son,” he’d whispered in her ear. “God, Mary, we could have another son.”

Irritation had prickled along her skin. “It could be a girl.”

And instead of snapping back, instead of allowing that comment to devolve into an argument, John ignored it. Maybe hadn’t heard her, or maybe he was just too happy to be angry with his wife. He’d only squeezed her tighter, like she was some precious, gentle thing, and Mary had stood there in his arms, trying to relax into his touch.

They’d waited until she was further along to tell Dean. He’d looked at them both so solemnly, so seriously, as they explained that he would have a little brother or sister one day very soon. That Dean would get to be a big brother.

“You’ll have a new friend to play with,” John had said. Mary had loved him with a sudden fierceness at that moment, the way he looked at their son like he was the center of his entire world. Like he’d never doubted this decision they’d made to become parents. “Are you excited?”

Dean’s little face had split into the most wonderful smile, then. He’d had a million questions, half of them making almost no sense, and Mary had pulled him up into her lap. The three of them had sat there on the couch together for a long time, chatting and laughing and playing. It had been perfect. It had been so perfect.

Now, Mary’s standing in the kitchen. Idly, she wonders what to make for dinner tonight. She could do chicken, but they just had chicken a few days ago. Spaghetti, maybe? But John always makes little needling comments about how her sauce never tastes right, and she’s not interested in picking a fight today, not after the blow-out they’d had last night. 

Their arguments have always been explosive, but in the past year, they’ve gotten worse. John spends at least one night a month at a friend’s house, and sometimes, Mary thinks he won’t come back. But he always does. She’s never sure if she’s relieved or disappointed about that.

Last night, the fight was loud enough that it had woken Dean up. He stood in the doorway of their bedroom, tears in his eyes and blanket dragging behind him, and that sight had sucked all of their anger right out of the room. John and Mary put him back to bed together, and afterward, it had been quiet. There were no apologies, but there were kisses, there were soft hands and warm mouths. Mary’s alright with that—at this point, it’s the best she can hope for.

So, no to the spaghetti. She digs around the kitchen for ideas, but comes up with nothing but a pre-made lasagna in the freezer. John doesn’t like things that aren’t home-cooked, but he can never tell the difference between what she made and what Stouffer’s made. She’s not angry with him at the moment, but there’s still a feeling of satisfaction as she takes the lasagna out to defrost. A twisted sense of victory that he doesn’t even know he just lost a fight.

The baby kicks, because Mary is far enough along now that she can feel the child growing inside her. It fills her with a strange kind of dull panic, almost like claustrophobia. She loves this baby already, of course she does, loves it as intensely and whole-heartedly as she loves Dean. But when she lets herself think forward into the future, another four years ahead when her new child will be Dean’s age and Dean will be eight years old, when Mary thinks about how John will still be working at the shop and she will still be at home all day, when she thinks about her life unfolding in four year chunks ahead of her, she wants nothing more than escape it.

It’s sick, Mary knows that, to miss what she so desperately left behind. She hates the part of herself that yearns for her old life. But that part of her lingers anyway, when she sees a knife glint a certain way as she washes dishes, when she chases Dean around in the backyard, when she reads a story about a suspicious and unsolved murder. Those skills she has, the knowledge in her mind—it makes her think, sometimes, that there is no future where she doesn’t return to hunting.

There are just some things you can’t escape. Some habits are so ground-in they never leave you, and some skills are so innate you don’t realize you have them until you use them. And the person you really are, that true self, she waits you out and strikes when you least expect her to.

Something’s lurking, Mary thinks suddenly, and it grips tight at her throat. Something is lurking inside of her, something she can’t control.

The baby kicks again, a grounding force, and abruptly she turns to the oven, pushing the buttons to pre-heat it with shaking hands. Unbidden, a memory rises to the surface in her mind. A night by the side of the road, a yellow-eyed thing in her father. Without meaning to, she settles one hand on the bump of her stomach. Mary closes her eyes.

[iwishicanbeagoodpianist]

the Wifilcon and the Winter Router

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC/Reader Summary: When Bucky learns that his neighbor has been stealing his wifi for months. Warnings: None A/N: I'm not a fanfic writer at all, this, like all my stories, are adaptations to fanfics. My original stories are not written in english, so this is also a translation. please do not repost my work

For an instant, Bucky thought that the knocking he was hearing was coming directly from his head, I mean, it wouldn't be the first time his mind played tricks on him, but he realized that the sound was actually coming, unluckily for him, from his apartment door. Oh no no no no no no no, I just got back from putting up with Sam for almost 6 full weeks, I don't need interaction with more people for now.

Bucky thought for a minute to ignore the sound, to wait for the person to give up and leave, anyway he didn't spend many days on this apartment, almost no one had seen him leave or enter the building and he had no contact with the neighbors, only with the lady on the 7th floor who once lost one of her cats, which ended up in Bucky's apartment, accidentally. Not that I found the cat in the alley and actually brought him to my apartment, it doesn't mean that I stole the cat, he was in the street by himself, I rescued him.

When the banging on the door stopped and Bucky thought he could breathe calmly again, a voice between altered and annoyed was heard all the way to the living room where he was sitting trying to overcome his third panic attack and fourth existential crisis of the day .

-"I know you're in there! I saw you coming in a few hours ago! I've been waiting for days for you to come back!"-

More out of instinct than anything else, Bucky pulled out the knife hidden in his right boot as he slowly backed away from the door. Do I really have a spy as a neighbor? Should I call Sam? Is he in danger too? Never mind now, you need an escape route Bucky, concentrate, third floor, window to the alley, 2 minutes max, the bike is parked far away, I'll have to run, but to where, rendezvous point, safe place, think....

- "for God's sake, open the door, I need you to pay for your fucking internet plan, I'm in the last season of my series and I need to know if Carolina died or not!"-

- "The internet?"- Between the andrenaline from escaping and the shock of not understanding what was happening Bucky spoke louder than an assassin, with over 60 years of experience, should have spoken. Oh, shoot.

-"Yes! Your wifi, I need it to finish watching my series"-

Whispering "wifi" to himself, Bucky tries to remember where he has heard that word before, this is what I get for never listening to Sam when he talks to me. But before he can continue his mental analysis of all the conversations with Sam about such stupid things as his favorite American Football team, the New Orleans Saints, that I remember, to how Antonio could possibly leave María on the last episode of the 6 o'clock telenovela of which Sam is a fan, his apparent "neighbor" spoke up again:

-"Jesus Christ, can you open the door? So we can resolve this like adults"-

Bucky resigned to the fact that he has given his position to the "enemy", walks to the door and opens it waiting for his death. Well at least if I die I won't have to listen to Sam again talking about Antonio and María. But on the other side of the door, there was a woman, who in her pajamas, very unthreatening but cute, was watching him as if he were a ghost but still with defiance in her eyes, in one breath she introduced herself and continued her speech about her complaint to Bucky:

-"As I was saying, I need you to pay for your internet"-

-"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I understand what you mean"- mumbled Bucky.

- "Good Lord"- To Bucky's surprise his neighbor, pushes him and enters his home, well not so much a home home, more like the headquarters of his secret club, of which he is the president, vice president and only member, the point is that it is his place, where he can (and wants to be alone), as she lives here. This must be a dream, maybe I hit my head too hard in the last mission and I am unconscious in the hospital.

Crossing the room, Bucky's unwanted visitor looks around searching for something while whispering the words "I see you are quite minimalist, but maybe this is too much, someone urgently needs to look for some inspiration on Pinterest". She stops abruptly in front of the shelf where, in theory, a TV should go, while shouting: "EUREKA", she bends down and picks up a white device which has two antennas and like a million little blinking lights, damn, that looks like something out of a spaceship, I'm being watched by aliens? I'm being spied on by Kree?

-"This is your router, this is where the internet signal comes from, which I need you to pay for so I can finish watching my series"-.

Bucky, still in shock for the third time in less than 15 minutes, as he processes the idea that perhaps Thanos' unknowing twin is spying on him for a second invasion of earth and revenge for his brother's death. He can only nod to his now more relaxed and happy neighbor.

-"Perfect, thanks! I need to check the food I left in the oven, I'll talk to you later"- and as quickly as she came she left through the same door, leaving Bucky with more doubts than answers, peeking down the hallway, he realizes that she is the neighbor who lives next door, to his right. When Bucky comes out of his initial stupor, still not fully understanding what is going on, he decides to take his cell phone out of his pocket and call his own personal Google to solve his doubts about this century: Sam Wilson.

-"Hey Buck! What's up?"-how does he always manage to sound so happy? focus Buck.

-"What the hell is a router and why do I have one in my house?"- somehow Bucky manages to formulate, although maybe his voice cracked a little on the last words.

-"That thing's been there for at least two months and you didn't even notice it? Have you even paid the bill?"-

-"You put this in here? Without telling me????"- maybe Sam is also a Kree? Who can I trust now? It's all a trap?

Listening to Bucky's accelerated breathing, Sam tries to explain to him slowly, that in this century life without internet is not life, but obviously as Bucky does not even know how to set the alarm on his own cell phone, he was in charge of buying the router and creating the contract with the company so that, the 106 year old man could have his personal network at home. He had given it the name but he had not given it a password so that Bucky himself could set it up later. "I am an excellent friend, I mean co-worker, if I may say so"

-"Sorry man, after all that happened, we got called for a mission and I forgot to tell you, do you have your laptop over there? I'll help you set up a password, so your neighbors won't steal your internet anymore"- and with that comment everything started to make sense in Bucky's slightly screwed up but functional mind about the events with his seemingly non-spy and harmless neighbor.

Meanwhile Bucky was trying to remember his own password to unlock the laptop in front of him, also courtesy of Sam. "Bucky, when you learn about online banking and that you can pay your rent, electricity, phone and everything with a click of your computer, you will thank me". It should be noted that Bucky hasn't used that laptop once, like a good 100 year old grandpa he goes to the bank to make his deposits and pay his debts, which obviously consisted only of electricity, water, gas and phone because the man had no idea that there was a device in his house that spit out internet, apparently only his next door neighbor knew this. Buck tells Sam how he thought his router was an alien device and how he thought his neighbor was a KGB agent coming to kill him. "Relax Buck we all have undesirable neighbors that steal our internet signal sometimes", well undesirable is not the word I would use to describe her but ok.

When Sam finally explains to him how to connect his computer to the internet, Bucky can finally see the name that his wonderful co-worker, not friend, because he could never be friends with someone so stupid as to think that the name "THE WIFILCON AND THE WINTER ROUTER" was a good name.

- "my god Sam, you're such an asshole!"-

-"HEY! That's a great name!"- Sam responds with as much indignation as possible, he's the best at naming everything from dogs to wifis.

- "I can't believe you're Captain America, I can't believe we're even friends"- Bucky really can't understand his luck to have friends, well, co-workers whatever.

- "Well excuse me but we're co-workers..."-

- "Well, take this call as my formal resignation, bye"-

-"Wait a minute Buck..."- Bucky ended the call, to finish -his self-imposed- punishment of listening to Sam Wilson talk for over an hour. At least I asked him how to use the bank's website to pay for the internet. Suddenly, without warning and without explanation, the memory of his neighbor is lodged in his head, her hair in a ponytail, her reading glasses, pink shorts, her sweater from some university of which he can't even remember the name because he was watching out for other things... that she wouldn't kill me obviously, he was watching out that she wouldn't pull a knife out of her back and kill me right there. The message on his laptop indicating that he can now set a new name and password to his wifi distracts him enough to stop thinking about his sweet and cute non-spy neighbor and how she would look with her hair down and her glasses off.

Still with the sweet feeling in his chest and the desire to see her again he writes as the new name of the wifi, while laughing:

"If you want free internet, you owe me at least one free dinner"

After paying the internet debt and closing the laptop, Bucky gets up hoping to find something edible in the kitchen, while leaning over to look inside his fridge and analyzing how bad it would be to eat a fried egg with pasta and sriracha, he hears again a knock on the door, but this time it does not cause Bucky the anguish and anxiety that caused him the first time, but quite the opposite.

-"Open the door Winter Router! I prepared chicken pot pie for dinner"-.

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 18

Dabi x Reader, Bakugo x Reader

Words : 4276

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

**********************************************************************

It’d been a little over a week since Shoto promised to go to the doctor with you and you were getting a little nervous. At first you were just waiting for the doctors to get settled in, but then Shoto was busy helping get things up and running and evacuating people to the bunker. Now you’ve just been chickening out.

Your period was a few days late, which wouldn’t be concerning if it weren’t for your current circumstance.

You woke up this morning and made a cup of coffee before taking Bravo out for a stroll around the bunker. He loved being able to run around and meet new people. He was a hit with the kids. They loved playing with him almost as much as he loved playing with them. The only downside was, there was only two places in the entire massive bunker that he could go to the bathroom. The farm and a small animal relief area near where the trash is dumped.

Needless to say, neither smelled great, but the farm was considerably better. So here you were, sitting on a small platform that oversees the crops with a cup of coffee and a book. Bravo sitting next to you keeping watch.

It was always a little chilly down here, which you honestly preferred. It just meant you could wear lots of hoodies. The more you could hide your body the better. Ever since leaving Dabi’s house you felt like you were always being watched. You felt so exposed and you just wanted to blend into the background.

Today you wore a new hoodie that Izuku had gotten you. It was probably one of the softest things you owned, and it was the prettiest shade of blue. The blue reminded you of a certain someone’s eyes… of the beautiful blue flames they were capable of creating… but then you’d shake the thought from your head and pull it closer around you.

You were enjoying your new freedom. Not that Dabi’s house had been a prison… but you hadn’t realized how much you missed doing things on your own. You had thought being alone would be hard, but you were thriving. It was never being alone that bothered you before, it had been his absence.

Against Katsuki’s wishes… Shoto had shown you the photos of what was left of Dabi’s car. And he hadn’t been exaggerating. You had almost passed out looking at how much blood soaked the driver seat and even the road around it.

You had been so lost lately. You didn’t know how you were supposed to feel. Your heart ached. You thought you had finally found your home. You had finally started to feel your pieces come back together. Now you felt like that would never happen. He took the last few pieces of your heart with him and you felt like you would never be whole again.

Dabi had been your comfort, your safety, your home. Now you were lost.

You hated that you felt this way. You should hate him. You should curse his fucking name. You shouldn’t be crying yourself to sleep over his death.

His death…

Was he dead? You weren’t convinced. It was too convenient, and there wasn’t a body. You wanted proof. Until then you’d go on believing he was still out there.

You closed the book you were reading. You had been on the same page for the past 10 minutes.

There was no way he wrecked his car like that. You had been in the car with him twice. Yes, he drove a little fast… but he wasn’t reckless. Either it was an elaborate cover up, or someone was after him. Or maybe… someone had been after you and he had gotten stuck in the middle as collateral damage.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard.”

Shoto came and took a seat next to you. “I’d ask what’s on your mind, but I’m pretty sure I already know.”

“Am I that obvious?” You leaned your head on his shoulder.

He leaned his head on top of yours. “It’s normal. I’d actually be surprised if you weren’t torn up over it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I can’t stop worrying about him. I keep wondering where he is. If he’s okay. If there’s some grand explanation for his shitty behavior.” You shrugged. “I’m just finding it hard to grasp that the same man who held me during my panic attacks was also secretly planning to breed me… It just doesn’t add up.”

“Guilt does weird things to people.” Shoto’s hand found yours and gave it a squeeze. “I know he’s my brother, but I have no doubts about who knew him best. I only know a version of him. I only knew what he wanted me to.” He sighed, “It was obvious you meant a lot to him, and I could see him becoming more… I don’t know… human? For the first time in years he was showing emotions that weren’t rage. It would make sense if you were starting to make him question what side he was on.”

Your eyes narrowed, “So what? You think he did some shitty stuff and decided to help me… because he felt guilty about it? That doesn’t make any sense.” You pushed away from him to look him in the eyes. “Dabi only does what Dabi wants to do. That has been clear to me since day one. So what the fuck did he want out of this? None of it makes sense. Was I just a possession to him? Was I a bargaining chip? Was I just some broken pet that he got validation from nursing back to health? What?!”

You could feel your hysteria building and Bravo put his head in your lap in an attempt to calm you down. You took a few deep breaths. “He better fucking be alive… so I can kick his ass myself.”

Shoto chuckled, “Touya doesn’t stand a chance.”

His eyes looked distant and sad. You nudged his shoulder with your own, “Hey can I ask you something?”

He blinked away whatever far away memory he was thinking about, “I don’t see why not.”

“What was he like? Touya I mean… Before he became Dabi.”

Shoto’s lip turned up just slightly, “He was the best big brother I could have ever had. He was always there to help me when our dad was too rough with me. My dad tried to keep us separated… didn’t want me mingling with what he considered to be his biggest failure.” You flinched at the casual way he talked about the abuse they endured. “But Touya would sneak into my room at night. He taught me how to handle my burns and would bring me cold soba on bad days.” His eyes glassed over, “I was devasted when he died. Well… when I thought he died.”

“I blamed my dad, we all did. So, when he came out of hiding, it was like this enormous weight had lifted off of my shoulders. I hadn’t even realized I was carrying it around, but I had never truly gotten over his death.” He chuckled, “So I went looking for him. I didn’t care if he was Touya or Dabi, I just wanted him in my life again. I’d take what I could get. So, I settled for our don’t ask don’t tell relationship.”

You felt a tear that wasn’t yours hit your lap. Of course this would be hard on Shoto, he’s potentially lost his brother for the second time. “If it makes you feel any better… He admitted to me that he loved you.” You smirked, “Well actually he told me he used to hate you which contradicts your story quite a bit. But he said he always wondered if things would have been better for you if he stuck around.”

Shoto laughed, “Sounds like him. Trying to act like the tough guy who didn’t give a shit… Just like how he was with you. I can’t tell you how many times he called me when he was gone checking on you. Texting me every single time your vitals spiked. He would check the cameras and send me voice memos about how he was going to beat my ass if I didn’t keep my hands where he could see them while we were sparing. But then he would deny it when I asked what going on between the two of you.”

“Hey, come on, I have an idea.” You stood and walked over to the corner of the field behind a small tool shed. You picked up a massive rock and moved it so it was hidden from view. “Can you burn his name into it?”

Shoto eyes darkened, “You want to have a funeral? We don’t even know if he’s dead…”

You nodded, “You’re right we don’t… but I think it’ll make it easier. We can have a place to morn him in private. Weather we mourn his death… or the death of who he could have been.”

Shoto’s shoulder slumped and eventually he nodded. His hand heated up and with his finger he wrote on the rock, “R.I.P. TOUYA”

You both sat there for a while just staring at the rock. You felt too cold standing here in the shade of the tool shed. You gripped your hoodie closer to you and held back the tears that you desperately wanted to shed. You knew you shouldn’t, but you let yourself think of Touya. You thought about what he would have been like if he had gone to UA. If he had become a hero. If you had met him under better circumstances. Would the two of you still have ended up together? Without your mountains of combined trauma would you even be the same people?

“You ready? We should head out soon or we’ll be late for your appointment.”

You rubbed your eyes and sniffled, “Yeah… let’s get this over with.”

Bravo wasn’t allowed in the medical side of the bunker, so you made a quick detour to your room to drop him off. Shoto quietly following behind you. “So how are things with you and Bakugo?”

You groaned and rubbed your temples.

Shoto chuckled, “That good huh?”

“He’s been hovering over me like I’m going to shatter into a million pieces at the slightest inconvenience. I appreciate what he’s trying to do… but it’s just too much. I told him I needed space… and we had a fight. He hasn’t spoken to me in two days.”

Shoto whistled, “I never thought I’d see the day that the two of you had a real fight. Sure, you always bickered like an old married couple growing up. But on anything serious he always caved to your every wish.” He paused at your door, “Wait. So, are you the reason he’s been extra grumpy lately?”

You blushed, “I don’t know… Maybe?”

You gave Bravo an extra scratch behind his ear before closing the door. At that same moment you heard the door next door click shut. Your eyes snapped up to meet Katsuki’s. “Oh hey… I didn’t know you were back from the surface yet.”

“Got back early this morning… I was actually on my way to see you. You have a time to get an early lunch? I want to talk to you about something.”

You played with the ends of your hair, which was an immediate give away that you were nervous. “I actually have some plans with Shoto. But I’m free after that. Shouldn’t take too long though.”

His eyes narrowed at your nervous posture and you cursed how well he knew you. “Oh yeah? What are you guys up to? Maybe I’ll tag along.”

You began to stutter but thankfully Shoto interrupted, “Clingy isn’t a good look for you Bakugo. Like she said… it’s not going to take long. Just wait here and she’ll be back soon.”

You saw Katsuki bristle and decided to step in before he picked a fight with Shoto. You stepped over to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I just dropped Bravo off. He’s had some pretty bad separation anxiety lately so why don’t you go to my apartment and hang out with him while I’m gone. Make some coffee, pick out a movie or something. I’ll be back soon, and we can talk then.”

His posture softened as he looked you up and down. It was obvious to him that you were nervous. But he was trying his hardest to give you the space you wanted. He pulled you to him as he sighed, trapping you in his arms. “Okay fine. I’ll babysit the mutt. Can you do me a favor and bring back some migraine medication from the medical ward. My heads killing me.”

You nodded stiffly, hoping it was just a coincidence he needed something from the medical ward. “Not a problem. I have the weighted blanket you gave me on the couch if you want to take a nap while I’m gone. You look like you could use one.”

He squeezed you tighter to him. “I’ll be fine.” He leaned his head on top of yours. “I’ll be better once we stop fighting about stupid shit though.” He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head, “I’ll see you when you get back.” He released you and looked to Shoto, “Try to behave. The two of you hanging out makes me nervous.”

Shoto chuckled, “Good. You should be nervous. If you don’t figure your shit out soon, I’ll be taking your best friend spot… Kacchan.”

You snorted as you pulled Shoto away. “Are you trying to get your ass kicked? You know only Izuku gets away with calling him that! Well… and me when he’s in a good mood. But even that’s pushing it.”

“Oh, he’ll get over it. He needs a reality check. He thinks the world revolves around him.” He led you down the hall. “He can be such a pain sometimes. But I will admit he’s so much easier to be around now than when we were in high school.” He bumped your shoulder, “In a way it’s thanks to you. As sad as it is, when you went missing, he matured. It was like out of nowhere he realized there were more important things in the world then him and his hero status.”

Something about talking about Katsuki’s emotional vulnerability while walking to the clinic to check if you were pregnant with Dabi’s child made you feel slimy. “Can we talk about something else. Literally anything else. How are you and Izuku doing?”

“Good… we settled into our room. It’s a nice enough room… but it’s right next to my dad’s room. Apparently he’s thought all this time that we were just roommates.” He threw his hands up and scoffed, “Honestly! Did he think we were both professional heroes, making tons of money, but couldn’t afford to live on our own?”

You giggled, “That sounds awkward. These walls aren’t exactly thick.”

“Oh believe me I know. And I don’t care. Poor Izuku though can’t even look my dad in the eye now without blushing.”

You laughed so hard you had to wipe away a tear. “Aw poor Izuku… He’s too innocent for this world.”

Shoto scoffed, “Innocent my ass. That man is a freak in—”

You held up a hand. “Stop, stop, stop! I don’t want to know. He is a pure innocent little muffin who used to braid my hair before workouts.”

“I thought Bakugo was the one who braided your hair? I can’t imagine him being okay with Izuku being that close to you.”

You laughed. “Oh he wasn’t at first. But mostly because Izuku was better than him at something. Kats liked to braid my hair in private while we watched TV.” You shook your head at the memory, “He actually got to be really good at it eventually.”

Shoto had succeeded in distracting you long enough to make the trip to the medical ward, but now that you were here the anxiety was creeping back in.

You paused before crossing the threshold. You knew it was important to find out once and for all if you were pregnant. But you were also enjoying living in ignorance. The fact that you didn’t know meant that you could live your life as normal. If you were pregnant… it would flip your entire world upside down. You would have a life you would be responsible for, a little human that would constantly remind you of the love that almost broke you.

If you weren’t pregnant then… you didn’t know how you would feel. Would you be relieved? Would you mourn?

Your hand found your flat stomach and clenched your shirt. You took a few steps further into the ward and was hit an overwhelming sterile smell. Your breathing hitched and your knees shook. It was too clean. It was too white. It reminded you too much of the lab.

Shoto’s hand took yours and gave it a soft tug. “Hey. It’s fine. You don’t have to do all of this. I can go in and request a pregnancy test and we can go back and do this in your room. Would that make you feel better?”

You shook your head, “Katsuki’s there…”

Shoto’s shoulders sagged, “At this point I think he’d be more upset at you hiding this from him. I’m not telling you how to live your life. I think you’ve earned the right to do whatever the fuck you want. But if it were me… I’d want as big of a support system as I could get…”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought about it. Did you want Katsuki to know? How would he react? What if you were pregnant? Would he be disgusted with you? Would he want to help? Your head was spiraling down a rabbit hole of what it and it was starting to make you dizzy.

“Hey, breathe! Just take a deep breath. Let’s get you out of here before you have a panic attack. Wait outside for me. I’ll get everything we need.

You pushed the wave of anxious nausea down and gave a shaky nod. “Okay… But remember to get some migraine medication for Ka—”

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember. Go sit down outside and try and focus on your breathing I’ll be right back.”

You made your way outside and immediately sat down and leaned your forehead on your knees. You needed to get these invasive thoughts under control. You thought about what Dabi used to do. He would sit with you and try and distract you by talking about random shit. You knew he’d be pissed if he knew his younger brother left you all alone during one of your episodes. The thought of him yelling at Shoto was almost enough to make you chuckle.

You took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds and started listing animals that start with the letter A. When you couldn’t think of any more you breathed out. Then you repeated the process with the letter B, then C. You had made it F when Shoto made his way back to you.

“Okay, so they gave me some weird looks. Which makes sense considering I am a gay man asking for pregnancy tests. But they didn’t ask too many questions. I have two tests, a bottle of water, some Tylenol, and a phone number for a doctor… you know, for if it’s positive.”

You took his outstretched hand and stood up. “Okay… let’s get this over with.”

Every step towards your room felt heavier than the last. You just wanted to curl up under your blanket and pretend none of this was happening.

You hesitated at your door for a few moments before remembering you were a tough bitch and barreled through it full of false confidence.

You expected to see Katsuki lounging on the couch watching something on the tiny TV. Instead you found him passed out with Bravo curled up next to him. The sight of it calmed your nerves.

“Hey Shoto, can you get some coffee going? I’m going to wake him up.” You tiptoed over to him and sat on the edge of the couch. “Hey…” You shook his shoulder. “Kats? Wake up. I need to tell you something…”

Katsuki grumbled and his arm snaked around you, pulling you down to his level. “Shhh, m’head hurts.”

You giggled “Hey stop I’m being serious… I need you to get up.”

One of his eyes cracked open. “What’s up you sound like you’ve been crying.”

You sighed, “I haven’t been crying, but I am… stressed…” He sat up and moved so you were sitting facing each other. He nodded urging you to go on. “So… The reason Dabi uh… locked me in his office was so he could go to the store to uh… buy a…. pregnancy test.”

Your eyes stared at your hands and you heard him suck in a breath. “Are you? …Pregnant I mean.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know… we got some tests from the medical ward today and I’m about to take them. I’m just… a little scared.”

A medicine bottle whistled through the air and smacked Katsuki in the face. “We got you your medicine too. You’re welcome.” Shoto was smirking over by the coffee maker.

Katsuki groaned as he stood up. “One of these days I’m gonna kick the shit out of you, IcyHot Bastard.”

He stretched and held a hand out to you. “Alright, come on. Let’s go piss on a stick.”

You felt a weight starting to lift from your shoulders. “Wait. So you’re not mad?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “Why would I be mad? I knew what the two of you were doing. It’s not like you cheated on me. As much as I wish we were, we aren’t together.” His thumb came up to brush a tear away that you didn’t even know had fallen. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily Y/N. You being pregnant wouldn’t change how I feel about you. I would even be willing to tell people it’s mine if it makes it easier for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

It was quite for a few moments, while you absorbed and processed this new development. He was surprisingly calm about all of this, and it was making it easier for you as well.

“God you’re whipped.” Shoto handed the pregnancy test to you but was smart enough to remain behind you so Katsuki couldn’t hit him.

You left the boys to bicker as you entered your tiny bathroom alone. You peed on both of the sticks and set a timer on Katsuki’s phone. The next three minutes were the longest three minutes of your life.

You paced as you tried to think of anything else. But your thoughts kept going back to that night when Dabi held you in his recliner after fucking you. He had asked about you having a baby. He had sounded so hopeful. His eyes so bright at the idea of you having a kid with him. Part of you couldn’t believe that was an act. He had seemed so sincere. You thought about how he would react if he knew you were taking a test right now.

The timer went off.

Shit.

Was your whole life about to change?

With shaky hands you picked up the first test. You held your breath as you looked to the second one to confirm it.

You opened the door with tears in your eyes.

“So, what’s it say? Am I going to be an uncle?”

You let out an audible sob. “I don’t know why I’m so upset right now.” You showed them the tests. “They’re both negative.”

Katsuki wrapped you in a hug and ran his fingers up and down your back. “It’s okay to be sad. Shoto made some coffee, I don’t have plans today. We can hang out here until you feel better.”

You cried into Katsuki’s chest as you watched some cheesy movie. He didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t even know what to say if he thought it would help.

You were grieving a child you never had, and a love that was nothing but lies. You needed to let it out. You needed to grieve so you could move on. And this is how you do that.

By the time the credits rolled your eyes were dry and you nose stuffy. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something earlier…?”

Katsuki stiffened, “Yeah, but I think it can wait. You’ve already had a rough day.”

You shook your head, “No… I want to know. I’m just going to worry about it until you tell me. I’d rather you just rip the Band-Aid off.”

He nodded, “We got word that Dabi may have been seen by your old place. We aren’t sure it was him though. Toga had been previously spotted as well, so it’s more likely that it was her. But either way, it looks like the LOV is sniffing around.”

“W—What makes you think it was Toga?”

He cleared his throat, “We have an informant working in the LOV and he told us the last thing he heard about Dabi was that Shigaraki had sent a team to collect him… but when they came back they were bloody and he wasn’t with them.”

You sighed, “Of course he wasn’t.”

*************

*The Laws* 1. No fucking shrugging 2. No drugs 3. No saying sorry for something that isn’t your fault 4.We work on communication every day 5. Wake up whenever the hell you want 6. No locked doors 7. We eat three full meals a day 8. No means no, no negotiations 9. We work on exercise every day 10. Ice cream must be kept in stock at all times 11. Accept help when it is offered 12. No lying 13. I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.

************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi @sarahschance @babayaga67@starenemy

[neowinestainedress]

DYNASTY ⮚ NCT

prev⏐ chapter twenty-five ⏐ next ⏐ masterpost

warnings: none for this chapter

genre: fantasy au, royal au, super powers au

word count: 3.955

summary: The apparent calm that reigns in Neo City breaks into million pieces when some members of the Neos find an outsider laying unconscious in the wood. After that, everything they know stops making sense. Menace from the past come back, while they have to rule on their city knowing that the menace of Simon’s dictatorial power is closer day by day. The past they never dared to face will wash over them like impetuous waves. The present is filled with doubts, regrets and the mystery of the lost memories of the nameless girl. The future is even more uncertain.

Can you break the chain with your past even if it’s running in your bloodstream?

taglist: @saeyeoniee​  @shwizhies​​ | if you want to be added let me know under the masterpost or with a message

a/n: i was going crazy with the layout of this chapter rip, if you find the photos hard to read pls let me know and i’ll try to change it in a better format. wanted to update friday but i’ve been sick all week so i couldn’t i’m sorry.

“We decoded the password and we found something that you need to see,” Renjun said, he was standing next to the big screen in their laboratory. Chenle was the only one of the dreamers with him, while the others in the room were the thinkers. He wanted to also call Taeyong but Doyoung refused, telling him that he would’ve substituted for him for a while. There was no need to put other pressure on him.

“You already did that?” Ten asked, swinging in his chair.

Chenle nodded. “Yeah. At first, I couldn’t understand, the words didn’t make any sense and, in fact, they weren’t real words. So I thought of flipping the Latin alphabet and comparing them to the right one. Turns out I was right.”

“Why all of that? Isn’t it too easy?”

“Actually no, at the start I tried with different alphabets, and nothing made sense. The Latin one has fewer letters. Also, the phrase is basically a warning for whatever sick thing they had in mind.” Chenle explained.

“What is that?” Doyoung asked, biting the inside of his cheeks.

“Ubi maior, minor cessat.”

“That literally means ‘where there’s the major, the minor decay’, basically in the presence of a more powerful important person, the less important one loses relevance,” Renjun explained instead.

“But weren’t they already in power?” Ten asked, furrowing.

“I don’t think your parents were the biggest problem. Simon is behind all of this,” Renjun explained.

“Can we see the files?” Taeil asked, scratching his chin.

“Yeah, here you go. We have to go, actually, but I think you don’t need us anymore, anyway,” Renjun said, opening the file on the computer.

“Yeah, thank you for everything. We’ll catch up later,” Taeil said, waving as they walked out of the room.

“She was right!” Ten exclaimed after he finished reading the files. “She was fucking right!”

“Who, Ten?” Taeil asked, turning around to have a better view of the man.

“Bambi! I mean Anastasia, fuck it we can just call her like this right?” He mumbled as he moved his hands frenetically in front of him.

“You were the only one not believing this,” Taeil remembered him, raising a brow.

“No,” the pierced guy said, sitting on the chair in front of him. “I’m not talking about this.”

“Then what Ten?” Doyoung asked, trying to get straight to the point. A bomb already just fell on them, no need to add more surprises.

“Remember when she had her first panic attack because she had a fight with Jae?” The men nodded. “Well, she had one before too, and it was because of me. She had come with me to the library, I was looking for books trying to find the pieces to get to this,” he pointed to the screen with the file about the DREAM LAB open. “So I told her that I and Doyoung guessed they experimented on us while sleeping and she casually told me the same things written here.”

“Elaborate Ten, and fast or I’m going to beat your ass for not telling us before,” Doyoung warned with a firm tone.  

“Calm down. She just said that they did that because our unconsciousness gave them a free getaway to our deepest parts. I was shocked but she was just making assumptions, like all of us. It didn’t seem like a big deal.”

“How all of that said by her didn’t seem like a big deal to you?” Doyoung asked, his voice coming out higher than he planned to.

“Because I don’t think she’s stupid.”

“But from what she said it’s like she knew what they wanted from us!” The other thinker almost screamed.

“She doesn’t,” Ten retorted.

“Technically she does,” Taeil said, getting back into the conversation.

“But she doesn’t remember. And no, Tae and her never knew what they actually wanted from us. Or how sick their plan was going to get.”

“Did she say something else?”

“We just came up to the conclusion that experimenting in our sleep was also crucial so that we wouldn’t be able to tell if it had been a dream or reality.”

“That’s why they knew what was going on. Taeyong and Anastasia were the only ones fighting back, they must have woke up and found out everything,” Taeil guessed. “I remember that I felt something strange sometimes, but it all felt like a dream, I just never paid much attention to it.”

“And you were the first one they started to test. Do you remember anything odd? Maybe a synchronized dream or anything else?”

Taeil thought for a while. “I’m not sure but I remember that was a time where I was having really bad nightmares, but they were messy just terrifying and then they would stop, abruptly, and it was always the same field of sunflowers and a swing moving alone.”

Doyoung sighed. “I know we tried to forget everything about the past but we need to try to dig deep within ourselves. We can’t talk with Taeyong or Anastasia right now, they’re not in the condition.”

“Taeil, I want you to try to talk with the others. If they had any specific dream that repeated itself, anything they remember is fine. Me and Ten will investigate further every file about each one of us. They tracked everything down.”

“Fine, I’ll start now. I guess, Jungwoo’s out?”

“Yes, he’s out. He just started getting better, he can’t go back to a dark place.”

Doyoung kept reading the notes and their profiles on the screen. He was going crazy.

“They needed her. She is the key to everything, so why they stopped searching for her?” He whispered, trying to think faster. He had this incredibly painful feeling that they already lost. Simon was ahead of them and he didn’t like it.

“I don’t think that’s the scary thing,” Ten said, stopping to nervously bite the pen in his mouth. “From what she said, she wasn’t the only one. They have other people they’re testing and we don’t know why. Yes, the dream lab to get inside of us and manipulate reality, but to do what? Why our parents were okay with all of this? What was the price that made them drop their ideal so easily? What did they do with Ana’s mom?”

“I think that the price was simply still being in power. If all of this plan starts from Simon, that means that he held the knife from the handle and he could swing at any moment.”

“But was it so necessary to do all of this?” Ten asked, it seemed so much.

“They had to. Not only to test on us before doing it to citizens, but also because we would’ve never accepted all of this. And that’s exactly what happened. We turned against them even if we knew little just because our trust of Taeyong and Anastasia was so strong.”

“You still think that’s a coincidence?” Ten asked, tossing and turning the pen in his hand.

“What?”

“That out of all the places she could go, she came here?”

“Technically, we brought her in,” Doyoung corrected.

Ten rolled his eyes and then said, “Were we supposed to leave her there?”

“No, I just keep on hoping that she’s not our Trojan horse.”

“But why would they be so stupid to let her in? They could’ve used some others to get in and spy on us. She never did any of this.”

“Maybe that was not their intention, anyway. I mean, look at us, Ten. Her arrival was like a bomb on our mental health that was already on the line. I have to replace Taeyong. Jaehyun got terrible at training. Yuta started to feel once again guilty for everything his parents have done. Us thinkers are going crazy over all of this. And I’m pretty sure that the others are not doing any better. Our long time friend is here with us again after we thought she was dead, and we can’t do anything about it. We don’t even know if she’s going to wake up again, and when. Isn’t this what they’ve always done? Using Jungwoo against Ana and Tae so they would behave and listen, either way, it meant for Jungwoo to disappear and go through I don’t know what kind of tortures.”

“And what can we do about this, Do?”

“I don’t know, Ten. For the first time in my life, I have no idea what to do.”

Remembering was something that she craved for so long and now that she finally got there she was hating it.

She didn’t like her story. She didn’t like it all. She didn’t like that the pain that she felt was now turning into an incredibly heavy weight on her chest with a fully formed shape. Her pain of before was hollow, but now, it wasn’t. All the pieces got back together to form a picture she wanted to tear apart.

What did all that words mean? She now got Taeyong, she didn’t want to be the chosen one, the fucking hero of a book she wanted to throw out of the window.

All of a sudden she wanted to forget.

And that’s why she woke up breaking the silence with a piercing scream that could be heard in almost the whole palace. Her hands grabbing the sheets at her side so tight that the veins popped out of the surface. No tears were rolling down her face. She wasn’t sad. She was furious. Mad that they were still out there ruining lives and not paying the price for what they did. Her eyes were closed but filled with blood. Her mind fogged with seek for revenge. She wanted to see them fall at her feet, kneeling and begging for forgiveness, spitting the blood for all of their sins.

“Bambi!” Kun screamed rushing inside the room to try to calm her down. The screams weren’t stopping but they were also accompanied by curses against somebody he couldn’t make out. Still, it didn’t take long for him to get that she had remembered at least something.

“Please, calm down!” Kun exclaimed, his usual calm composure nowhere to be found. He moved close to her, wrapping his arms around her.

“Let go of me!” She demanded, moving frenetically in his hold.

“No! Damn, where are the others when I need them.”

“It’s not fair!” She mumbled, now letting go of her pressure as the salty drops started to fall from her eyes. Taeyong, Sicheng and Jaehyun were standing at the door, they ran when they heard the screams but stopped to see where this was going. “It’s not fair...” She repeated, letting her body collapse in Kun’s arms. His hands cupped her head and kept her close to him. He tried to make her heartbeat go with his as he whispered lulls in her hears.

Her hands grabbed his coat and pulled him closer.

“They’re not there,” he whispered, caressing her hair.

“I want them to be here,” Bambi replied and all of them stilled. Did she want to get back? And why? But the words that left her mouth later made blood go iced in their veins.

“I want to see them spill blood in front of me.”

“Bam-”

“Drop it. Call me with my name, call me Anastasia,” she spat before Taeyong could go on.

“What do you remem-”

“Everything. I remembered everything.”

“Why you didn’t say a word?” She asked, placing in the spot between her legs the glass Sicheng gave her before. They all decided to sit down and talk for real for the first time.

“We weren’t sure,” Taeyong explained, his thumbs playing with each other nervously.

Anastasia chuckled, rolling her eyes to the sky. As if she didn’t give them enough signs. Probably if they didn’t try to make it look like she was insane it would’ve been easier for her to remember.

“We tough you were dead. It felt that we were acting delusional to even think you were her, well you were you, oh you got what I’m trying to say!” He exclaimed in frustration. He was still confused and now that she remembered everything they still had no idea how to deal with her. Also, the calm Doyoung wanted to give him didn’t last much, he really couldn’t rest right now.

“Also, is Simon we are talking about. We couldn’t be sure about you,” Kun added, trying to make her see their point of view. To be honest, he agreed with her, he had tried to make them think more than once but it was all useless. At the same time, he knew that starting to beef with each other right now was not the right thing to do.

Anastasia spared a quick glance at all of them and then stopped on Jaehyun for a bit more. He wasn’t looking at her, his head low focused on his hands. She had so many questions but her head was throbbing and the pain was killing her.

“I need a pain killer,” she said, turning to Kun another time.

“But you had the V-”

“Kun,” she stopped him, her voice firm like never before. “I need pain killers, this headache is killing me.”

A shiver run down Kun’s spine at her change. Bambi wasn’t there anymore and he had a feeling that the healing now was going to be even harder than before. He sighed and then got up. “I’ll bring it to you.”

“Are you mad at us?” Sicheng asked once Kun was out of the room. His eyes studied Anastasia’s expression, trying to catch a glimpse of her old self or at least at the sweet soul that Bambi was.

She shook her head. “No, how could I? I’m just confused and...” she said, looking at him with a small bitter smile on her face. “Okay, I’m mad.”

“But not at you. I,” she stopped once again. What was she still complaining of? She was more than sure they were fed up with her shit. They already had their problems and she did nothing but make everything worst. And now, that everything came back, she was once again sitting there complaining.

“You have all the right to be mad,” Taeyong said, almost as if he could read her mind. And probably he really could, somehow he always did. Reading her like the pages of an open book. “And confused, tired, angry, sad.” He smiled, shyly moving his hand to touch hers, fearing she would pull away, but she didn’t.

“You also have all the rights to still feel out of place. It’s not easy, Ana, it never was and will never be. It’s going to take time, but if you still want, we can be your home, your family. But if you don’t feel anything that ties you to us anymore, then you’re also free to leave,” he added, his voice sounding soft and welcoming like never before to her ears. He was still hoping for the first, but if she felt that wasn’t her place, could they force her to stay? Absolutely no. This wasn’t the end, it was just the beginning of a healing process that was going to be painful and long. And he couldn’t blame her if she just wanted to turn the page, end the book and put it on a shelf to start another one, another life. They could’ve made her change her documents, provide her with a home and a job and nothing would’ve kept them together anymore. If that was the solution to defend her from Simon and their parents, they would’ve done that.  

The others didn’t say anything, simply agreed, nodding with their heads low. And neither did Anastasia. After all she put them through he was still willing to let her choose? And not fight this battle with them? Taeyong was still the selfless boy she grew up with and that saddened her a bit.

“You should probably eat something and get a breath of fresh air,” Taeyong noted, getting up from his seat. He wasn’t looking for an answer right at the moment, he would’ve waited. He would’ve always waited for her. He then leaned a hand to her which she took without hesitation. She didn’t want to stay in that room one second more and she was starving.

Holding tight on Taeyong’s hand and Sicheng’s arms supporting her, she walked out of the room.

She didn’t answer, but she knew exactly what she wanted.

She wanted to stay. That was her place. And deep inside her heart, she knew that.

She knew, that it couldn’t rain forever.

[the-enamorando-deity]

Oneshot where Sara Lance and Ava Sharpe take care of a badly wounded and unconcious Reader? Fluff and Angst please 🙏 ❄

i need this to happen like rn

sara lance x ava sharpe x reader

no warnings i don’t think???

Sunken Like Steel

This was entirely Nate’s fault. Or at least, that was what you were going to tell everyone, if and when you woke from whatever had taken away your consciousness. In reality, it had absolutely nothing to do with Nate whatsoever. If anything, he was the first one in the water, turning to steel to sink faster to reach you before you vanished to the depths.

He got you out with help from Mick, your waterlogged clothes doubling your weight. It wasn’t an accident you ended up in the water, though, nor was it an accident that you’d been wearing so many layers. The Legends, yourself included, had been facing a portal maker the last week or so, and every time he threw you across time and space, you ended up in the most freezing cold places, usually the tip of an iceberg or the desert at night.

This time you were prepared for him, but something had changed in his methodology. He’d set off a bomb in the centre of your group, portal-ing himself somewhere safe, leaving you all to feel the blast. What he hadn’t counted on was you diving for him from behind, getting caught in the middle of the blast, but still managing to fall into the tail end of the portal.

There lay the problem, as he appeared on the dock of a nameless river, with you falling from the sky not far behind him. He went to fire at you, but noticed you were unconscious as you plummeted towards the water. You hit it with a sickening splash, sinking slowly to the bottom as he watched on. Rather than wait any longer for your irritating team to show up, he ran, leaving you to drown.

Sara and Ava had split up the team to search as many locations as possible, Zari making Gideon check for any residual portal energy from the past few minutes. There were only three options, and they immediately moved.

Ray, John and Ava wound up at a bar in Taipei, while Zari and Charlie found themselves in a lion den halfway across the world. Mick, Nate and Sara had appeared at the dock just as you hit the water, and the man you had all been hunting was gone.

You didn’t wake up when you were pulled from the water, but Sara managed to get the water from your lungs using her lifeguard training from summer camp. You don’t know how they got you back to the ship, but Mick later let you know that Sara didn’t let go of your hand the whole time.

Ava refused to leave your side from the moment she sat down, not even wanting to move her eyes away from you. She and Sara both blamed themselves for everything, not even letting themselves sleep as they watched you lay there, unmoving. Gideon couldn’t determine if you would wake up at all, which only made them want to leave you less.

The others all came to check on you, but found only silence from Sara, and the most basic of reports from Ava. They were too worried to eat, until Nate insisted that it wasn’t what you would want. They needed sleep too, as it had been days, and they were also starting to stink up the room.

He agreed to watch you, but Sara wouldn’t let go of your hand. ‘I swear, Nate, that dude better be dead by the time we get to him, or he’s going to wish he was.’

‘I know, Sara. Come on, I’ll let you know if anything happens,’ he assured them.

Ava and Sara left together, exhausted beyond words. They felt guilty for leaving you there, knowing that although you loved the team, your connection with them wasn’t as strong and you might panic. They didn’t know how hard you’d hit your head, if you’d remember anything, but they couldn’t do much else.

Surviving on caffeine had only exhausted what was left, the sugar highs and lows taking a toll that you would never wish on anyone. Ava’s head leaned on Sara’s as they walked, holding each other up as always, something you hoped would never change. You had heard them arguing before all of this, their opposing views on taking down your current fugitive sparking a fire that wasn’t going to be easy to coax down.

And yet, it seemed that all it took for them to stop was for you to choose a third, unexplored option, ready to risk your life to prove a point. Tensions had been high recently, some close calls making everyone doubt themselves. Sara tried to argue in Ava’s favour, while Ava almost completely shut her out, insisting that all their approaches were wrong, and that they needed more time.

Sara’s impatience led to them having a blow up in front of the team, only to have you confront them later on and tell them how ridiculous they were being. They almost didn’t listen, until you proposed an experiment, but refused to tell Ava the parameters no matter how many times she requested.

‘Okay, so,’ you started, in the middle of the room before them, ‘Ava’s usual approach is assess the situation, listen to your team for information, observe the area for emergency exits and possible ambush locations, hydrate to prepare for participation, and attack for summation.’

You had tried so hard not to laugh at the eye rolls you got from the pair, but it had stopped them from being against each other for a moment.

‘Sara is usually run in headfirst, die, get brought back to life, do it again,’ you grinned, watching her stick up her middle finger. ‘But, she has since adapted since leading the team. Instead, she now uses herself as bait, leading out all attacking parties, so we can surround them, or get surrounded on purpose, because we work outwards and strong.’

She looked a little chuffed with that, nudging Ava with her elbow all proud, before growing suspicious. ‘Wait, what’s the point of this?’

‘There’s a third option,’ you smiled, holding up your arms. ‘Gideon, show them the Y/N Approach Simulation.’

Ava and Sara left the room in agreement that you should never be in charge of anything ever, and that maybe each other’s approaches weren’t so bad apart, but together, they could adapt and make every situation winnable.

If only they hadn’t doubted themselves this time, the situation something neither had thought about before, and were so unprepared for, they panicked. But then they knew, thanks to you, that there was always a third option, even if it was terrible and stupid.

You didn’t awake until after they’d returned, hair messy and still damp from their shower, Ava falling asleep on Sara’s lap as she laid there. Sara’s fingers ran through your hair as she sat beside you, your cheeks twitching as your eyes began to open.

‘Hi, sleepy head,’ she cooed, a tired smile on her face. ‘Babe, Y/N’s awake.’

Ava bolted upright, flustered as she turned to you. She threw her arms around your neck and kissed your forehead softly, then grabbed your chin as her expression turned serious.

‘Do that again, you better hope you wake up a million times faster, because this was super not cool,’ she ordered, before smiling and sitting on the bed beside you.

You both turned to look at Sara, who had gone rather silent since you had awoken, only to find her gently snoring away, asleep between you and Ava, hand still curled in your hair. Ava held your hand and looked between the pair of you, grateful her girls were still safe, and now under her watchful eye.

‘Ava?’

‘Mm?’

‘This was all Nate’s fault.’

‘Of course it was, sweetheart,’ Ava nodded sarcastically, giving you that look she gave Sara when she tried to lie. You needed to work on your bullshit, it seemed, but Ava was just glad the humour you had used to endear yourself to them was still very much intact.

taglist: @marvelfansince08love @mymarvelwomen @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @veteranwerewolf95 @monihaswritersblock @natasharomanoffswife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (10)

(New update coming in and things are getting heated!!! I wonder how our lovely little group’s gonna handle it??)

Ch.1 / Ch.9 / Ch. 11

Chapter 10: Adrenaline Rush

Possible Schools:

Rosemary High

Skyline Academy

Angelwood Institute

Liberty High

Summerfield Academy

Clearwater Institute

A sigh passed through Adrien’s lips as he crossed out the last name on his list, matching it with the other failed attempts. He just didn’t understand. Why was it so hard to find Marinette’s school? All he needed to do was search for high schools in the area and ask the students at each school whether she attended or not. It seemed simple enough at the time, but now another week and a half has gone by, and he’s no closer to finding her than he was two weeks ago when he asked for her school name as Chat Noir. 

Adrien set his pencil down and rubbed a hand over his face. He could have sworn she said ‘Rosemary’ last time they talked, but that blonde guy insisted that there weren’t any new students there. Maybe he just hadn’t met her yet? No, that didn’t make any sense. School had already started by then. Adrien assumed the guy would notice if he suddenly had a new classmate. 

Ugh. If only he could visit her again.. Between patrol with his lady, akuma attacks, homework, and photoshoots, going out as Chat Noir to see Marinette was nearly impossible. He really needed to have a talk with Nathalie about getting more free time.

“Alya, Marinette is killing me!” 

Adrien glanced up from his paper- That’s right, he’s supposed to be working on his own school right now -just in time to see Lila wiping fake tears from her eyes as she walked into the classroom. Although they still had a good five or ten minutes before class started, she was the only who wasn’t currently seated at her desk, and judging by her greeting, Adrien was going to assume that she entered last on purpose.

“What!” Alya gasped, standing up from her desk to meet Lila halfway. “What did she do now?”

Lila sniffed and accepted the comforting hug that Alya offered. “She’s been sending me awful messages all week! Telling me she hates me and insulting me and that I should’ve just stayed in Italy where I belonged.”

Adrien shifted in his seat to hear the conversation better, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. Another scheme to slander Marinette’s good name.. Why did Lila still feel the need to lie about her? The ravenette was gone, completely transferred to another school, too far to even breath about Lila’s fabrications. There was no reason to turn their classmates further against her. (if that was even possible at this point)

“She told you what?!” Alya blanched, pulling back to grab Lila’s shoulders. “I can’t believe her! wasn’t sabotaging the forms you needed to be class president enough? Why can’t she leave you alone!”

Adrien resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Now that lie had a reason to it. He knew first hand how thick those stacks of forms can be since he’s helped Marinette carry them a few times, and Lila was obviously too lazy or too unqualified (or both) to sift through all of that mess by herself. What Adrien didn’t understand about the lie, though, was why she had to drag Marinette into it. Again. Why not lie about feeling unwell? Or simply ask for time to adjust to the role that had practically been dumped onto her? Any of those excuses would not only have been easier to say, as they didn’t involve anyone but herself, but they probably would have been accepted just as wholly. So why? It was as though Marinette became a crutch for Lila, which he supposed made sense. Building onto a widely accepted lie would be much simpler than creating a million small lies, but it certainly came with a risk. For example, if Adrien were to, say, kick that crutch right out from under her, she would probably flounder around on the floor with no way to get back up again. 

This left Adrien with another important question: How was he going to do it? So far, his friends have been sticking to her like glue and taking in her words like they were given directly from the Bible. On top of that, Alya seems to have become Lila’s official guard dog. How was he supposed to work around that? Adrien couldn’t confront the brunette publicly, because Marinette was proof that that never ended well, and confronting Lila privately didn’t help either, because she would only blow him off again. No, he needed to focus on outing her to his classmates directly, but he also needed to be subtle about it. Which meant..

Which meant he’d have to beat her at her own game.

“That’s crazy!” Adrien piped up, plastering on a surprised and disgusted expression. “Can I see the texts?”

Lila and Alya turned to him, both equally shocked by his comment. He normally kept to himself during conversations about Marinette.

“Oh..” Lila blinked, gathering her thoughts. “I mean, of course! It’s just that.. they’re quite personal, you know.. She said some things that were close to home..”

“We completely understand.” Alya assured. 

“Completely,” Adrien agreed, “which is why I want to see how bad it is. Those texts can be considered harassment if you don’t feel safe.”

Alya frowned at him, but a spark arose in Lila’s eyes, one that was no doubt fueled by the thought of getting Marinette into trouble with the law. Adrien would never understand the hatred that Lila harbored for the ravenette, but he definitely knew how to use it to his advantage.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want her to get in trouble!” The brunette said with feigned concern. “But.. if you think it will help..”

She made a show of tentatively pulling out her phone and handing it to Adrien. He wasted no time snatching it from her hands and pulling up the texting app. If she was giving him the phone, she most likely had a series of fake texts to back up her story. (and they would be fake. Marinette was too nice to outwardly insult or bully others. Besides, she wouldn’t have the time even if she wanted to, what with her new school, homework, and fashion designs that she needed to tend to.)

Sure enough, he found messages upon messages of insults under the contact name “Marinette”. Things like “You’re only a model because of Gabriel’s pity and charity programs”, “You made our school’s reputation so pathetic that I had to leave”, and “They’ll find out soon that you’re too stupid to be a decent class rep.” were only the tip of the iceberg. Adrien noted the fact that there weren’t any comments about Lila’s looks specifically- she probably couldn’t think of any insults like that herself, since she was obviously so fashionable -but other than, the texts appeared to be authentic.

That is, except for the phone number.

Adrien slid further into his desk and pulled out his own phone to unlock it. A swift comparison between the two contacts proved not only that they had different phone numbers for Marinette, but that the phone number used for the harassing texts was actually the phone number that Adrien had for Lila. She must have texted herself, then deleted the doubles to make it look like a regular conversation between two people. Adrien had to hand it to her, it was a clever set-up. 

But not clever enough.

“Wow, this is awful.” Adrien declared, ensuring that both girls along with a few of their other classmates could hear him. “I’m going to text Marinette about this right now. Do you mind if I copy the number from your phone to text her, though? Some of my contacts got deleted a while back.”

Lila’s eyes widened, and panic briefly flickered across her features. 

“O-Oh, um- you really don’t have to do that-” She tried to say as she reached for her phone. 

Adrien pulled it back up with a smile. “Oh, but I want to! We can’t let Marinette get away with things like this.”

“Yeah, he’s right!” Alya eagerly agreed. “Let him talk to her. That should really pack a punch for Marinette.”

Although the comment was a bit odd, Adrien nodded along, because as long as Alya was on his side, this plan should work perfectly. 

“I’m typing in the number to call right now.” He announced, quickly punching in each digit. His only regret in that moment was that he couldn’t see Lila’s expression as he got closer to ‘accidentally’ outing her. However, the sheer panic in her voice was still enough to make his smile widen to a grin.

“No, you can’t!” She nearly shrieked, lunging over Adrien for her phone. If the class’ eyes weren’t on them before, they definitely were now. 

“Don’t worry, Lila.” Adrien said innocently as he pressed ‘call’ on the number. “I won’t tell her that you gave me her number.”

As expected, Lila’s phone immediately began to ring. He watched as the blood drained from her features, and she scrambled to turn off the device before it could finish the first ring. It was a decent move, in his opinion, but that didn’t stop the class from staring at her with a mix of surprise, suspicion, and curiosity.

“What was that?” Alya asked, leaning forward to help Lila get off of Adrien, “Was your phone ringing?”

“No, no! It was- uhm -” Lila let out a nervous, little laugh.  It’d been so long since she had to fight for her lies to stick that she must have forgotten how to lie on the spot. What a shame.

“That was just a small sound my phone makes when it turns off.” She blurted out. “I must have forgotten to charge it last night.”

Adrien pressed “end” on his call- because obviously he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Lila’s phone off -and glanced around the classroom to gauge their reactions. Those closest to the conversation were warily watching the scene unfold with furrowed eyebrows, doubt clear on their expressions. The farther ones, however, nodded along with what Lila was saying. They probably hadn’t heard most of the conversation beforehand and therefore had no reason to question her. 

“Oh,” Alya said, accepting the bullcrap answer as always, “that’s not good. Do you want to use my charger in case you need your phone later?”

Lila offered a sweet smile, stray bits of her confidence floating back to her due to Alya’s reassurance. “Ah, I’m fine. I wouldn’t want to trouble you or anythi-”

A soft rumbling shook the ground, causing the Italian girl to trail off. Adrien turned to the window, his breath catching in his throat as his thumb instinctively brushed over his ring. Was now really the best time?

In the distance, a cloud of dust was rising into the air. He’d seen enough- and done enough -to know that only the mass destruction of buildings could create such a cloud, and the mayor hadn’t informed them of any pre-planned constructions.

“Yes!” Alya cheered, leaping down the classroom steps. Leave it to her to be the only one excited about another akuma attack. “Finally!  It feels like we haven’t had an akuma in weeks!”

“Alya, wait!” Nino called after her. He always hated her little escapades. 

“Don’t worry,” Adrien said as he stood up, “I’ll take care of her.”

Right after I take care of the akuma.

~~~~~~~~

The little hands of Felix’s black wrist watch ticked away well past 12:30, reminding him of his frustrating failure to set a timer for their lunch period. How could he have forgotten? The notion had to be ingrained into his muscle memory by now. Get up, go to school, burn through the first few classes, set a timer to not waste time, and go to lunch. How did it slip his mind?

“I can’t believe I didn’t ask this sooner,” Allegra remarked as they exited the café, “but what happened to your guys’ faces? I’m pretty sure they weren’t that red before.”

Felix glanced towards Claude and Marinette, the excuse to his forgetfulness finally returning. He’d been in the middle of setting the alarm when he saw their tomato-colored faces in front of the Chemistry lab. The sight must have been enough to throw away all thoughts of setting his alarm as he asked what happened. Nevertheless, Felix still had time to copy down some notes before his next class, and that would suit him just fine for today.

“Oh, man, how have I not told you yet?” Claude snorted. “It was hilarious!”

Marinette let out a light, yet playful scoff next to him. “Define ‘hilarious’.”

The group shared a small chuckle, and Claude jumped into the story of how they- well, how he spilled their chemicals in class. It surely couldn’t have been as interesting as the brunette let on, but Claude always loved to be dramatic. He made voices for Marinette’s comments- which she jokingly took offence towards due to the unrealistically high pitch -and flailed his arms about while explaining how he poured the chemicals into a bag and mixed them. Claude even made a point to throw out his arms while mimicking the sound of an explosion when he got to the part of the story where the chemicals overflowed.

One of those arms happened to smack Felix in the shoulder, which easily brought a glare out of the blonde. If Claude was this energetic now, there was no telling how bad he was going to be during Allegra’s sleepover. In fact, the whole group was probably going to go overboard. Something about sleepovers tended to bring out the most outgoing side of a person, which was why Felix loathed them. He had to sit there and listen to everyone snort and laugh and be loud the entire evening without the comfort that he might be able to leave within an hour or two. It was torture, simply put.

And yet, he decided to go. All for the ludicrous thought that he might be able to ask Marinette more questions about her relations to Agreste and her old school once- or if -the night provided them a moment of privacy. The motivation itself was outright foolish if he were honest with himself. Even if he did acquire a “decent moment” to bring up the subject, she would most likely be uncomfortable talking about it, and dragging a person through the past that they’re deliberately trying to run from isn’t pleasant for anyone involved. That’s why he’s refrained from asking about it again so far.

Felix needed to find some other way to sedate his curiosity towards her. He did.. But how else was he going to find out why an aspiring fashion designer would run from the supposed affections of a top designer’s son? Felix guessed that it might be something like sexual harassment or another, equally disgusting treachery, but then what about the chest of gifts? Where her affections for the model had been clear? What type of fallout must one have with another person to risk their entire dream career just to escape them?

Felix shook his head slightly to push the thoughts out of his mind. He wasn’t going to barrage Marinette with question after question just to stop his mind from constantly turning when it probably wouldn’t stop anyway. Marinette was Marinette. A classmate of his that was kind, clumsy yet capable, overly-generous, determined, weirdly strong for someone of her stature, and a mystery in more ways than one when it came to the life she lived. That was going to have to be enough for him.

“You should have seen it, Allegra.” Claude said with a grin, pulling Felix back to the present. He’d somewhat forgotten that the brunette was even talking.

“It was like the whole bag of Phenol Red just went-”

A large crash erupted to the left of them, followed by a strong gust of wind that pushed them all off of their feet. Felix hit the pavement with a grunt, and Marinette landed on top of him a second later, sucking the rest of the air from his lungs. Screams pierced the air, disorienting him further- why were they screaming? What made the crash? How did it create enough wind to knock them over? -but Marinette sat up immediately. She turned to the source of the crash, tense and ready, as though she already knew what they were dealing with, and Felix couldn’t be more confused. Why did she look like she was about to fight something? (And why did he feel like she would win?)

“Do not be afraid!” A voice yelled over the crowds, drawing Felix’s gaze to a woman standing a few yards away from them. She was dressed in dark and light blues, save for her white elbow-length cloak and her white skirt that appeared to be split into several different pieces of cloth. “I’ve come to help! Not just you, but the world!”

Felix’s eyes widened, an entirely new form of terror taking hold of his body. This wasn’t.. This couldn’t be an akuma, right? She looked different than the ones he’d seen on the news, more human. If it weren’t for her white and dark blue mask and the large fan in her hands that seemed to be controlling the wind, he would have thought that she was a normal civilian merely passing by. 

“Our planets have been spoiled by the bigger companies for too long!” The woman continued, even though people ran as she spoke. “It’s time we take matters into our own hands!”

His mind screamed at him to run, to hide, to move, but he couldn’t. His entire being was cemented to the spot in fear of what might happen next. What if this akuma was dangerous? What if her powers possessed people like that Pharaoh themed villain? Or completely killed them like Stoneheart or TimeTagger? Were they going to be her first victims? What if it-

A harsh tug interrupted his reeling thoughts, and suddenly, Felix was back on his feet and running. Running behind Marinette who was pulling them to safety. 

“Hurry up, we don’t have much time!” She quietly called over her shoulder. “Let’s hide behind the wooden fence while she’s distracted.”

Felix had enough sense to look ahead of them, where a small, wooden fence that held the cafe’s menu was placed. It wasn’t hard to notice under normal circumstances, but how did Marinette think of hiding there while the akuma was right behind them? How was she not paralyzed by the very idea of being caught?

“I’m going to destroy some stores around here, but only to get the heroes’ attention!” The akuma explained as the group scrambled passed the fence and pressed their backs against the wood. “Once I have the miraculous, I will restore everything to its rightful place, I promise!”

Felix tried to slow his rapid, shallow breaths as he sank further against the fence. She was going to destroy buildings? How many? Were they going to get hit with the debris? Where were the heroes that he’d heard so much about? Shouldn’t they be doing something about all of this?

“What do we do?” Claude whispered, panic clear in his tone as well. None of them had ever seen an akuma attack before. Well, none of them except Allan, but he’d been watching through a store window a safe distance away.

“Should we call the police?” Allegra nearly squeaked, tentatively reaching for her bag to pull out her phone. “They help with stuff like this too, right?”

“No need.” Marinette said. She was on the left side of Felix now, staying close to the edge of the fence and carefully peeking around it. “The police have akuma alerts on their phones to tell them when attacks happen. They're already on their way, I’m sure.”

Felix stared down at her with furrowed eyebrows, completely baffled by the lack of panic in her demeanor. This was the same girl who stumbled and stuttered to ask him for a pencil during class! Yet here she was, taking charge and giving orders and speaking perfectly. It was like she was a completely different person! How was that even possible? 

“Alright,” The ravenette spoke, turning back to them with a deathly serious gaze, “I’m going to run out and get her attention. While I’m doing that, you guys need to run as far away from here as you can and find a good basement to hide in until this is over.”

“What?” The group practically gasped in unison. She wanted to face the akuma alone?!

“Marinette, you’re not going anywhere!” Allegra insisted. “It’s not safe out there!”

“It’s less safe if we stay here.” She replied, moving to step out into the open.

Felix grabbed her wrist to yank her back. What was happening right now? 

“Are you insane?” He hissed unintentionally. “You can’t go out there! You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Yeah, she’s not after us.” Allan agreed. “Only the buildings. Let’s just all run out of here together.”

Marinette glanced back at the group. “But there are still people in those buildings. I need to lure her to an empty street or at least stall until the heroes get here. If I don’t, people are definitely going to get hurt or worse.”

Felix’s grip on Marinette’s wrist tightened. He hadn’t thought about the crowds of people who were running inside for cover, but even so, what would she be able to do alone? The akuma was a powerful being, and they were merely civilians in the crossfire. What’s stopping it from crushing Marinette beneath its boot at the slightest whim? Who’s to say the akuma would even listen to Marinette if she did get its attention?

“We’re not letting you sacrifice yourself for an extra second of time.” He told her. “Like you said, the police are on their way, which means the heroes will be here soon too. Let them handle it.”

A strange mix of urgency and frustration flickered across her features, and she tugged against his grip. “Felix, please, we don’t have time to argue-”

“I think I’ll start with this darling café.” The akuma crooned. “That should get some attention.”

The café walls crumbling apart was Felix’s only warning before the gust of wind made it to their little hide-out. It splintered the wood within seconds, and the group went flying, once again, into the pavement. 

Felix groaned as he pushed himself to his knees. How many times were they going to get thrown around? At least Marinette didn’t land on him this time.

Marinette.

The realization that Marinette was no longer with him washed over Felix like a bucket of ice cold water, and his gaze snapped upwards. He started to yell for her, but it was too late. Marinette was already on her feet, somehow recovering faster than all of them, and running towards the akuma head on. He could only watch in abject horror as she called out to it.

“Hey, airhead!” She yelled. “Do you really think this is the smartest plan?”

The akuma rounded on Marinette in an instant, and Felix sucked in a breath. No, no, no, no, what was she doing?

“My name is ‘Whirlwind’, thank you very much,” The woman snapped, “and I think it’s a brilliant plan. Do you think you can do something better?”

“Of course.” Marinette replied, crossing her arms. “If you’re already destroying buildings, why not go and destroy the big companies that you’re after in the first place? It’d be much more productive, don’t you think?”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. Didn’t she say that she wanted to avoid public places?

Whirlwind hummed. “Well, yes, but with all of the major hotels and tourist spots, it’s hard to tell which buildings to destroy, and I don’t have time to look.”

“I’ll show you where they are.” Marinette offered. “Think about it, destroying a big, company building is sure to attract more attention than taking down a little café, right?”

Whirlwind narrowed her eyes as she thought it over, and a part of Felix desperately hoped that she would decline Marinette’s suggestion. A bigger part of him prayed that the police or the heroes or somebody showed up to stop this before Marinette went too far.

“Alright.” Whirlwind smiled. “I’ll take you up on that. It’s nice to see someone else interested in saving the environment.”

With a flick of her fan, Whirlwind gathered a gust of wind around Marinette, causing the ravenette to rise into the air. She then gave herself a gust of wind, which caused her white skirt to start spinning around her. If Felix wasn’t going pale with dread over what might happen to his classmate, he would have found the unique fashion choice to be humorous, as it almost reminded him of a box fan. 

Allegra let out a horrified shriek, one that rattled Felix to his bones. This was really happening. Marinette was really being carried off by some maniac in a costume. What were they going to do? What could they do? Gosh, where were the heroes?

Felix grit his teeth and forced himself to his feet. He couldn’t just stand there and watch her be kidnapped or he’d never be able to look her in the eyes afterwards.

That’s right, he told himself. The heroes were going to win, and she was going to be just fine. 

Those thoughts didn’t stop him from sprinting after the akuma, though, even as the trio called after him to stop, even as the akuma rose higher into the air, out of his reach. Marinette couldn’t do this by herself, and although Felix’s presence probably wouldn’t make much of a difference either, he’d be darned if he didn’t try to help. 

“Don’t worry,” He huffed, comforting himself more than her as he darted through alleyways to keep up with them, “I’m right behind you.”

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