#one was destroyed which is sad because I had glass made up for it

[raeofgayshine]

I love playing Pokémon in a way that would absolutely kill anyone who knows a thing about the game. No I don’t know most weaknesses and strengths of typings or what I should be using. No I’m not building a well rounded team. No I don’t remember battle to battle what moves are effective against what Pokémon’s even if I just fought them and lord knows I don’t really understand their power or literally any stat my mons have. I am heavily brute forcing my way through this game with my team full of Sunflora fusions because this is Infinite Fusions and I can do that. Yes having everyone a grass type presents problems. No I don’t care! I will beef them up enough they can tank hits until I can destroy whoever I’m fighting and if all else fails I have potions and revives and everything I need on stock to keep going. I do not know what I’m doing but I’m having fucking fun with it!!!!

[a-little-ray-of-fantasy]

An analysis on how Sir Pentious' character design represents his personality and development perfectly (beware of Hazbin Hotel spoilers)

Let's get this out of the way: Sir Pentious is a snake, an animal mostly known for generally believed negative traits such as poison, deceit and betrayal. We don't know WHY he's in Hell, maybe he was a "snake oil salesman" considering he comes from the Victorian times and he's into hyping up what he does, or maybe he was into war. Thing is, he's a Sinner whose design just scream "Evil".

(BTW, a snake could also represent "fertility": looking at you, Egg Boiz!)

He always had eyes all around him not just because of a stylistic choice.

Sir Pentious always felt like he was watched, and had to watch out for any danger.

"Everyone here is too nice: obviously it must be a lie! I can sense they are planning to kill me, but when?! HOW?! I must be PREPARED!"

Sadly, he's been constantly berated by other demons, far more effective in destruction, status, cruelty and charisma. Alastor won't ever bother to remember him, Cherri always ones up him, and the Vs, the ones he admires to most, won't care less about him.

To the point that Vox sent him as a spy without the intention to save him if things were going to fail. Heck, he even openly tells him to die while calling him a failure.

So of course he's got reasons to have trust issues, or taking everything so seriously, being constantly reminded of what he can't accomplish. So he puts an air of grandure that may be very flamboyant, but is VERY frail.

But, if we have to be frank here, his biggest source of insecurities... is himself.

He has eyes on his tail (his softer, more vulnerable side, which is ironically made even MORE lieable to getting hurt because of how sensitive those organs are), and inside his hood, so he could look out better for danger when on alert mode.

Heck, even the mark on his hood kinda resembles one eye.

Problem is, when you see his hood folded, when he's at ease, neutral or sad, those are not looking at outside sources.

They're looking at him, at his back. A constant stare that happens everytime he lets his guard down and shows how vulnerable he is. A gaze that can sense all of his weakness, his struggles, his insecurities.

And it's all him.

Pentious constantly believes that his inferiority complex will fade away once he'll accomplish something grand that will make others accept him. But he is his biggest critic, his worst enemy: HE is the one who believes he's a failure, that he'll never gain approval from others.

This show takes place in Hell, but this is Sir Pentious' personal Hell: insecurity born out of self hatred. Doomed to feel everyone's gaze upon him, including his own. Believing the danger to his self esteem is from others, when it's really from him.

But then he's accepted at the Hazbin Hotel: Charlie forgives him, he bonds with Angel, Husk and Niffty who don't care a bit about what he's accomplished or not, or what he's done in the past.

He feels more comfortable in showing his vulnerable side, and no one judges him for how easy it is for him to get emotional.

Of course he's still very insecure, considering how he struggles to confess to Cherri, but notice how he stops building machines or planning to attack others as soon as he starts bonding with the others: he doesn't have a reason to destroy or attack, now that he knows he's loved.

And his final design, when he goes to Heaven, shows how much he's changed, yet stayed the same. He may have died a hero, but he's still the same awkward snake we've come to love.

Speaking of love, let's talk about that!

No more eyes on his tail, now it's just on his chest (showing he's opened his heart), his glasses are now heart shaped, and even the markings inside his hood resemble kiss marks more than anything else.

And look: the mark on his hood is now heart shaped!

Why all these hearts? Why did all the eyes disappeared from his body? Even his eyes that were looking at his back?

Simple: love. Love defeated his insecurities and self hatred. He died for love.

He died protecting his friends, his new family, his new home.

He confessed and kissed Cherri knowing full well he wouldn't have made it, and yet he went anyway.

The usually cowardly and timid Pentious actually faced a great danger with courage and determination: he acted selflessly by putting himself in harm's way, he didn't steal (naturally) and by going against Adam he did indeed "stick it to the man"!

He used his weaponry knowhow and battle experience not to conquer, but to save his loved ones.

His only thought up until his demise was: "I'll go down protecting them".

And he's been rewarded not only by becoming an angel, but also being spawned directly in front of Emily and Sera, two Seraphim, the highest rank for an angel to have, who have also been depicted as snakes of fire throughout history! Sir Pentious, the lowly demon considered a failure by everyone, actually has been noticed by the Seraphim! He's come so far!

He's now come to represent the REAL symbolism of a snake: the duality of death and rebirth, transformation and immortality (ironically a reference to the fact he's been around since 1888 without ever dying from any Extermination or blessed weapons).

And isn't so poetic that a snake, the "source of the original evil", was the first sinner to ascend to Heaven? Or that this episode was released on February 1st, or National Serpent Day?

And of course, as the Bible itself says:

"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends."

(John 15:13)

And knowing him, I'm confident in saying he'll keep helping his friends even in his new position, like the soft hearted noodle he's always been, but was to afraid to show it up until now.

[myfictionaldreams]

Last Hope // Mafia!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Chapter 2

Summary: Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

Tags: 18+ readers only, angst, fluff, abusive brother, emotional manipulation/abuse, murder/violence, blood/injury, depression,  enemies to lovers, possessive, protective steve rogers, hurt/comfort idiots in love

A/N: ahh it’s finally here! I contemplated posting the two parts in one but its oner 19k words long so probably easier to read as two separate parts. Please enjoy!

Words: 11.2k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

To an outsider looking through the glass walls of your life, it would look to be filled with excitement, thrillful, and definitely desirable. But to you, those walls were a cage, entrapping you in danger and gut-wrenching sadness and on occasions, those feelings had nearly destroyed you but now, you welcomed them, finally being able to feel something.

From the moment you were born, you’d been surrounded by criminals. The kind of people that only cared for themselves and would kill even their best friend if it meant they could increase in the hierarchy chain. This lifestyle was the way of your family, almost like it was instinct, the only way to survive in a world full of darkness and terror.

In reality, this was simply the lie that your brother had been feeding you from childhood. As if it was completely normal for parents to mysteriously disappear one evening, leaving their entire business in the hands of their greedy son, your brother Enzo who boasted that this was the only way to survive.

Enzo was as corrupt as gangsters come, his ease with murdering coming as easy to him as breathing, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone as he gained control of the underground criminal workings in Staten Island. He prided himself on his reputation, as a dangerous man with a business to run. There were multiple companies that he had close ties to but the majority of his finances were in robberies but not the kind that had banks held at gunpoint. No, Enzo had a vast team of experts that had connections with jewellery, cars, paintings - anything that could be sold through the black market and it made him untouchable and untraceable.

Where did you come into all this? You didn’t, not in the grand scheme of the business. Enzo often liked to taunt you that you didn’t have the heart to be at his esteemed level of ruthless and you were more than happy to watch from the sidelines, even though the violence was something you’d become accustomed to, it didn’t mean that you were wanting to do it. 

Instead, you were used in other ways, Enzo mostly using you as a bargaining chip for his clients, you’d have to flirt and sweet talk your way into their lives, a couple of dates and kisses to convince them to work with your brother as if you were nothing more then a piece of pretty meat for the worthless people to use. Every single interaction made you feel sick and dirty but luckily he had not asked you to fuck anyone yet however, your brother always liked to threaten that he would sell your virginity if you ever stepped out of line.

This was the life that you survived, the belittling, the threats and feeling hardly like a person at all. To you, Enzo was hardly even your brother with the way he talked about and treated you, reminding you on a daily basis that you lived under his roof so you must live by his rules or be thrown to the streets with not even a shirt to cover your back.

So you stayed and played by his rules because this was the only life that you knew, there were no other friends or family, no money stored away in a hidden box to one day set yourself free. There was only waking up and going to sleep, and everything in between to fuel your nightmares.

The only instruction you’d been given this morning was to dress up, which meant wearing as little as possible to lure people in. This wasn’t something you particularly want to be doing any day of the week but especially as the autumnal winds were beginning to brisk.

Tonight was an important event that was both well known and yet incredibly secret, most guests having to travel for hours to arrive at the underground venue. It was known as the ‘Pick-Me-Up’ event, weapons were banned upon entry and it gave goers the opportunity to meet other criminals, mafia members etc and hold business meetings, all under the disguise of a party. The concept alone caused a thick lump to lodge in your throat upon every swallow as silent nerves teetered your emotions, being around that many powerful people, it was your idea of hell.

Not for your brother though, in fact, he had been extremely nonchalant about the situation, stating: “It should be me that they’re scared of”. This was one thing you could not fault Enzo on, was his egotistical self-confidence, the man thought and believed he was untouchable. At least for this once, you weren’t instructed to flirt or speak to any of the attendees, you were only going to look pretty and draw attention to the gang.

The bass of the music vibrated deep into your bones before you even stepped into the main room of the venue, the air thick due to the number of people, sweat already gathering across your skimpily dressed body. You’d tried to stay close to Enzo and his bodyguards but with the busy crowd, your brother was able to slip away to the meeting rooms without a care for your safety, leaving you to the hungry wolves.

Not risking stopping your stride, you kept walking and pushing your way past the men and women, too frightened to look up. An empty spot at the bar caught your eye and with rushed steps, you allowed yourself a moment to catch your breath and held your body close to the counter. The space you were in was small and everyone seemed to tower over you, especially the guy sitting to your right at the bar, but you didn’t pay him or anybody any attention as you leaned further over the bar, catching the barman's attention.

“Glass of tap water, please”. You contemplated having a glass of whatever was their cheapest alcohol but realised that Enzo had rushed off without giving you any money so free tap water it was. Maybe it was a good idea to have a clear mind when surrounded by so many people.

There was a commotion next to your left side, a couple of boisterous men talking so loudly that you could easily identify what they were saying over the music. As the barman handed over your glass filled with water, one of the arguing men bashed into your arm, causing you to squeeze into the large body to your right, some of your drink spilling from the abrupt movement.

“Hey asshole, watch the lady!” the tall man stood and shoved the guy over your shoulder, instantly giving you some space as you tried to fix your posture.

“Who the fuck do you think-”, the guy who had caused all of the commotion had turned to shout at whoever had pushed him but seeing who it was, the words died in his throat. “Sor…sorry”, he mumbled an apology before the group moved away, giving you even more freedom to move.

Your heart seemed to stop however, even the music seemed quieter as fear pulsed through your body, seeing who had been standing next to you and who had just pushed someone away from you, now understanding the scared reaction.

Steve Rogers didn’t need any introductions, everyone on the East Side knew of the Rogers Mafia leader.

The gang were renowned for being ferocious, heartless and vicious and ruled over the entire Brooklyn area. You’d never even been in the same room as him before, only noticing him from files that Enzo had shown you on who to look out for when attending these events, who not to piss off and who to sweet talk, Steve Rogers was definitely someone not to piss off.

He was breathtakingly handsome, something that only made him more dangerous, his blonde hair that curled around his ears, piercing ocean-blue eyes that darkened around the iris and his hulking form that screamed power and strength.

Steve Rogers was formidable and he was staring down at you, saying something that you couldn’t hear over the panicked buzzing in your ears—a couple of seconds passed as you held the glass of water tighter to your chest, finally relaxing enough to hear what he was asking.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes… thank you”. Without wasting any further time, you rushed off in a different direction, pushing harder against the throng of people, wanting to get away as fast as you could, not caring where you ended up. The entire time, you could feel him watching you, even risking a glance over your shoulder to see that he had fully turned his body in your direction and was watching you leave with a curious expression.

Your feet stumbled quicker in your haste to find somewhere else to be, but every room seemed to be busy and locked. Eventually, there were some stairs hidden behind a gate that no one seemed to be trespassing which meant: calm and peace. Climbing the stairs, the music quietening with each step upwards, the only sound is your heavy breathing, heels clicking against the floor and the pounding of your heart in your ears.

The stairs led up to the roof and you sighed happily at the fresh, crisp air that cooled your heated skin. Relief flooded your emotions as you walked further onto the empty rooftop, stopping when you reached the ledge that was tall enough that you could lean on it. Placing your glass onto the ridge, you admired the beautiful sight of the city and night sky.

Moments like these were the ones you craved every day, the dreams that you could imagine looking up towards the sparkling stars, dreaming that you were anywhere else with a different family and a better life. It was your crutch, these moments of escape, the small spark of hope that you wished one day would blossom into reality.

You were never sure how much time slipped away when you had these daydreams but as the fire escape door opened, you knew a significant amount had passed by the chill sweeping over your body now.

Your spine straightened as you turned to see who had found your hidden corner of the party and the dread that had encompassed you downstairs returned full force as Steve Rogers stepped outside, hands in his pockets, closing his eyes and savouring the cool air, much like you had.

He hadn’t noticed your presence at first and for a moment you hoped that he would move to the other side of the roof so that you could escape the way that you came but you were never that lucky as his blue eyes snapped to yours, shock evident on his face finding someone else up here. “Sorry, I didn’t think anyone else was up here”.

“That’s ok... I can go”, your voice didn’t sound anywhere near as confident as his. Quickly picking up your glass, you began to leave but he held out a hand, a small smile on his handsome face.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to go. You were here first anyway but there’s plenty of space up for the two of us”.

Now you felt inclined to stay, not wanting to look rude, especially to the most powerful man in the state so you nodded your head once and returned to looking out over the city. From the corner of your eye, you could see Steve approaching closer, stopping a few feet away and resting his forearms against the ledge. You were hyperaware of everything, the way you couldn’t slow your breathing rate down and the slight tremble in your hands, it was hard to remain calm.

Steve glanced over, eyes flicking over your form as you pretended like you weren’t watching from the corner of your eye. “I’m Steve”, he introduced himself, voice deep and yet oddly calming, matching the serene setting.

“I know”, your automatic response caused your to wince at the rudeness and brash tone you hadn’t meant to use. You’d been in rooms with dangerous men your entire life and had to flirt with many of them to get what your brother wanted, you needed to try and regain some sort of control. “Sorry, I mean… I think everyone knows who you are. I’m Y/N.” For a second you contemplated mentioning who your brother was so that he knew who you’d arrived with but for some reason, couldn’t admit to it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N”, Steve responded, sounding surprisingly genuine before looking back over the city. “Beautiful view, I much prefer being up here than being locked in a tight room full of bozos”.

The seriousness in his voice had a laugh bubbling in your chest at realising you weren’t the only one to feel like this party was utter hell. Looking up towards the night sky, admiring the twinkles you agreed, “It is beautiful”.

Feeling eyes on your face, you looked towards Steve, seeing that he was watching you with an interested expression before it turned to one of confusion, eyebrows frowning slightly as his head tilted, asking, “Have we met before?”

Now it was your turn to be confused, “No I don’t think so. I think I would remember your face”. Your cheeks immediately burned at your unfiltered response, not meaning for it to sound like you were flirting but with the smirk that formed on his face, you knew that was exactly how it sounded to him. It wasn’t like what you said was wrong, he was handsome.

Steve thankfully brushed over the comment much to your embarrassment, “I definitely feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before”. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, his eyes continued to asses your face which only made you feel more self-conscious under his watchful gaze and then his eyes brightened to match the grin spreading across his face, “Cake Bakes, right? You order cinnamon buns?”

Your jaw slackened with shock as he spoke the name of your local bakery that you visited like clockwork every Thursday. Was he following you? Was all of this an elaborate plan to get you by yourself and take you, hostage?

Steve realised how bizarre his comment must have sounded and held up his hands, showing his empty palms in defence, “Oh shit, sorry that sounded weirder than it was supposed to. I promise I’m not stalking you, quite the opposite actually I uh… I’m in there most days to refresh our bakery stocks at the office and see you quite a lot”.

The blonde Mafia leader was of course downplaying the way in which he saw you at the bakery so as to not freak you out any further than you already were. You’d been the mysterious cinnamon bun girl that he had soon become addicted to seeing even just a glimpse of your pretty face, and if he was lucky then a smile as you accepted the baked goods. Even going as far as to volunteer himself to collect the food every week so that he might see you, even though he could easily find someone else to do the job for him. He was also highly aware of how much of a creep it would seem if he approached you one day so always admired from afar and with his job, it wasn’t like he could walk up to random women and ask them on dates when he was the most prolific mobster in Brooklyn. But seeing you here now, he couldn’t help but say something, almost like his body took over before he could think any of it through and seeing you all dressed up, it took him a good while to realise the scantily-dressed woman standing before him was his precious cinnamon bun girl.

You were frowning, trying to think about all the times you’d been into Cake Bakes, surely you would notice if a dangerous man was in there enough times to recognise you? Think, think think….

A clear image popped into your mind, a smile slipping over your features as you looked up at him, “black baseball hat, and sunglasses right?”, referring to the man that was always waiting for orders in the corner of the shop.

“Guilty”, Steve grinned sheepishly, stepping closer and angling his body more towards yours from where he still leaned his weight casually against the side.

Now you were unable to hold back that laugh that shook your body, hand resting on your stomach as it ached with how much you laughed, a sight that Steve became instantly addicted to. Finally, you were able to find some composure to say, “Good disguise, I’ve never clocked on to the fact that the infamous Steve Rogers had a sweet tooth”.

“Well, can’t have my reputation ruined now, could I?”

You genuinely smiled at him, wondering if you should reveal this next piece of information but unable to hold your tongue, “You do know that they call you the Muffin Man in there after you leave? They never understand how one person can carry so many baked goods”.

Steve’s cheeks actually bloomed with a tint of rose as he attempted to hide a smile, looking at his feet in a rare show of embarrassment, “should have guessed that the Muffin Man written on the receipt wasn’t the name of the baker”.

You laughed again before picking up your water and taking a sip, finally calming enough by hiding your face behind the glass. You couldn’t believe it as it dawned on you that… you were actually laughing with Steve fucking Rogers and his presence didn’t make you want to rip your skin off from feeling dirty, it was actually quite nice even though there were still warning bells alarming at the back of your consciousness.

The two of you remained in natural silence, still admiring the view which Steve admitted to himself was definitely you but he tried not to look for too long, knowing he could be addicted to trying to mesmerise your face to memory.

His curiosity got the better of him though as he asked subtly, “Isn’t there someone looking for you downstairs?”

You tried and failed to not choke on your drink, coughing a few times before shaking your head, “No, I’m here with my brother but he’s in some meetings”.

A frown crossed over Steve’s face, “meetings? So he’s got to be pretty important to be invited to those”.

You shrugged, looking down at your feet, “Enzo’s a busy guy I guess”.

“Enzo… as in Staten Island Enzo?” Steve asked, shocked when you were nodding to his question. “Hmm”, Steve pondered, glancing over his shoulder at the empty rooftop before looking back down at you, “where are your bodyguards? Enzo’s a pretty big deal from what I’ve heard, I’m sure there's a big target on his back with people looking for him, which by association means they are looking for you too”.

You didn’t dare look up, every word that Steve spoke was true and you had to try and think hard for a professional way of answering, instead of simply revealing that Enzo just didn’t care for your safety. “I managed to sneak away from security in the crowd, needed a moment of peace to myself”, the lie dripped from your tongue relatively easily and you made sure to look up at him even though looking into his eyes made your heart beat quicken.

Steve didn’t believe your excuse, noting the fact that you were always by yourself when visiting Cake Bakes and if he noticed you then he was sure others would. “They must be some shitty guards if you’re able to sneak away from them. I think you’d have some good competition if you tried to sneak away from my guards Bucky or Sam”.

Those two names you’d also heard of before, but it seemed that everyone involved within the Rogers Mafia were highly trained and feared individuals.

A shiver shook through your body as another blast of ice-cold wind stroked over your exposed body parts, causing goosebumps to lay over your skin. Steve noticed your chill, “do you want to head back inside before you catch your death out here?”

You didn’t miss the way in which he leaned his body closer to yours so that his arm gently pressed against you and impulsively you inclined into his warmth. Shaking your head, you answered honestly, “I’d much rather prefer to be a bit cold out here than in that hell hole downstairs”.

Steve agreed with a slow nod of the head and didn’t waste another second before shrugging off his navy jacket and placing it gently over your shoulders. Before you could decline, your body instantly felt relieved at the unnaturally warm material, and when his aftershave that stained the jacket wafted into your senses, your mouth watered.

Your heart was pounding for another reason now as you accepted the jacket, pulling it close around your frame, softly thanking him with a smile that reached your eyes. What was going on?, you thought as you assessed the situation. Of course, it could all be an act on Steve’s part but he hadn’t even known you were related to Enzo when he found you so wasn’t being nice for the sake of getting into the gang but then, why were the rumours about Steve so volatile and nasty because the man standing next to you now, willing to bare the cold and genuinely asking you questions was not the man you thought he would be.

Now it was your turn to be curious, facing your body fully towards him now, “Why are you up here? I would have thought that the most sought-after leader would be in meetings all night?”

“Ah, Buck’s taking one for the team and doing them for me. I’ve been in enough bullshit meetings for a lifetime and would it be cheesy to say I preferred the company up here and in no rush to return?”

You giggled, actually giggled as your cheeks warmed, “Yes I would say that was a little cheesy you smooth talker”.

The conversation came easy for the two of you, it felt like with each word he spoke, you were desperate to ask more, see the genuine reactions on his face as you held the joinings of his jacket together, it felt like a comforting cocoon, a safe space.

Those words seemed to taunt your conscious thoughts. A safe space. You’d never felt that way before, never had someone ask questions and be interested in your life. You’d never even had someone offer a jacket before to save you from the chill, it was all building that small spark of hope that you had been wishing for.

Once more the time seemed to pass without a care in the world, even as your feet began to ache from standing in the heels you’d picked, you still wanted to stay with Steve. But reality had to ruin the little sanctuary as Steve’s phone began to buzz with a text that he read quickly and his joy seeped away before your very eyes.

“All the meetings are over”.

“Shit”, you whispered in disdain, realising that you needed to go back downstairs to find your brother. Steve offered his hand out in front of you to allow you to lead the way and you both moved in the direction that you’d arrived and down the stairs.

The music thumped louder with each descent of the stairs as the party was still in full force and most likely to continue into the early hours of the morning. As you pushed your way through the crowds with Steve behind you, his hand on your lower back to help your way through but all you could think about was how big and hot it felt, even through the clothes.

Finally, you spotted Enzo and his gang members, lounging in a booth next to the speakers, drinking beer and definitely not looking for you.

Steve leaned down so you could hear but once again, with the close proximity, all you were able to concentrate on was seeing his face this close-up and trying to take in every detail that you could, “If you get into any trouble and those shitty guards can’t look after you, you can always come and find me, sweetheart”.

Usually, you loathed pet names but coming from his full lips, you couldn’t help but smile up at him, watching as he turned and left to find his own people, not before checking over his shoulder a few times to see you still watching, a smirk playing on his lips at this thought.

As Steve disappeared into the crowd, you finally felt your feet become unglued from the floor and moved to join your brother who was watching with a fire lit in his eyes that you’d never seen before.

It was only as you sat next to him did you realise that you were still wearing Steve’s jacket and you couldn’t deny that you probably still had time to run and find him to give it back, but instead wanted to be selfish and keep this comforting material for a little while longer, deciding you could find him at the end of the party.

“What?”, you finally asked as Enzo still hadn’t looked away.

A devilish grin stretched across his face as he nodded in the direction that Steve left, “he’s your next target”, he casually revealed.

“Wh-what?” you stuttered, feeling like ice had been doused over you.

“I need a meeting with him and he’s notorious for not accepting them, but I’ve got some dealings in his area, something that he's inserted himself in so you are going to use your assets like you have been with him all night, and get me my meeting”.

There was no use arguing as Enzo turned away from you, effectively cutting off your conversation with a dismissal. You felt deflated and sick at the mission given to you. Steve had been kind and clearly hated these sorts of functions and now you were expected to betray the little trust that you’d both formed, flirt with him more just to ask for a meeting with Enzo? You hated this, hated that this was your life and even more, detested your brother more than anyone for ruining the hopeful spark that had formed.

Over the next few days, you’d been going out of your way to ignore Enzo and his dreadful request however eventually his patience ran out as he forced you to sit in a chair and swear that you’d continue with the plan. You agreed but only due to the little threatening of the gleaming knife pressed against your throat.

Enzo had increasingly become more aggressive with his threats the older you were and the more reluctant you were to go through with the orders. So with no other option, you began to make a plan, cursing yourself for not asking for Steve’s phone number on the rooftop but at least there was one place that knew he would be, on Thursday, like clockwork.

The smell of the baked goods wafted down the street and had your stomach growling in anticipation for your treat, momentarily distracting you from the plan you were reluctantly going through with. Opening the door and hearing the tinny bell ring upon entry, even if you hadn’t wanted to, your eyes searched the seating area and straight away spotted the hulking form, with his hat and glasses, sitting up straighter in his chair as he also looked you over.

Biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning, you approached the cake display, casually chatting with the store owners who prepared your order without asking what you’d like. At one point, you risked a glance over your shoulder and saw that Steve was very much still watching you, his head tilted in wonder.

“Thank you”, you accepted your order and finally moved towards Steve who was sitting at a table for two, a different spot as he was usually in the corner leaning against the shop window. He must have been hoping that you would be joining too. “Hi”, you spoke softly, suddenly full of nerves but not because of the plan, but because you were actually excited to see him which was a foreign sensation for you.

“I still can’t believe that your brother lets you walk around without a bodyguard”, Steve spoke lowly so no one could overhear, a teasing smile seen beneath his shades.

“And I still can’t believe your disguise has worked for so long”, was your sassed response as you sat in the spare seat, resting your hands on the table.

Steve subtly adjusted his hat, pulling it lower over his face to hide his grin which only made yours widen, a bubbling feeling in your stomach due to making him smile, knowing that you wanted to make him do it again.

“How was the rest of the party?”, Steve changed the subject, clasping his hands together and leaning across the table until he was only inches away from touching where your hands lay and you had to refrain from reaching for him. Even from beneath his shades, you could see his eyes searching across your face.

“I tried to find you again to return your jacket to you, but you were gone”.

Steve sat back in his chair, contemplating your words but then his posture showed slight hints of arrogance as his legs spread and his arm rested on the back of the chair, “looked better on you anyway, sweetheart”.

There he goes with the pet names again that had your pulse fluttering with excitement. And was he actually flirting with you? 

“Are you flirting with me?”, you asked with a coy smile.

“Yes, is it working?” he answered confidently.

“Maybe”, you had to turn your face towards the Cakes Bakes staff to try and hide your smile and warmed face, you noticed that they were all watching the two of you with excitement, pretending to go back to work after being caught. You guessed it must have been weird that two of their most popular customers, who were always there but never spoke were now sitting at a table and chatting like close friends. 

Steve continued speaking referring to the jacket, snapping your attention back to him, “It’s fine, you can always give it back to me tonight”.

The excitement you’d been experiencing instantly ceased to exist due to having to give the jacket back. In all honesty, maybe it was slightly odd but you had found some weird comfort in his jacket, particularly the aftershave that lingered in the material. Frequently you found yourself breathing deeply from it, savouring the scents and letting the memories of the one night of happiness you’d seemed to experience.

“Oh right, yeah, of course,  I can get someone to drop it off or-”

Steve quickly cut you off, leaning close once more as his voice lowered, “You’ve misunderstood me, Baby, you can give it back to me when I take you out to dinner tonight”.

“Ah…right”, you say in shock, letting his words tumble through your mind before not bothering to hide your smile, “there you go with the smooth-talking again Steve”.

His Adam’s apple visibly bobbed as he swallowed harshly, huskily saying, “I like it when you say my name”.

Your eyes snapped to his lips, feeling yourself becoming more heated as you stared, your imagination getting the better of you with where those lips could touch and tease and…

“Your orders ready!”, one of the workers shouted to Steve, breaking the thickening tension between the two of you.

Both of you stood as he collected his stack of boxes from the counter, thanking the workers and you politely held the door open for you. “You never answered my question by the way”, Steve stated as you both stood in the middle of the bath, looking to leave in different directions.

“Well, it hardly seemed like a question and more a statement but regardless, yes I would love to go to dinner with you”.

Steve grinned now, showing off his perfectly white teeth, “Thank god. Do you know the new restaurant three blocks over? How about I book us a table for 7? I’d offer to pick you up but I’m assuming your brother wouldn’t like me knowing his home address with our line of jobs”.

This made sense and you couldn’t help but bounce on your toes a little bit with excitement, holding the bag with your cinnamon bun tightly in your grip, “That sounds great! See you at 7 Steve”.

You turned to walk away, mostly to hide your over-the-top grin, realising it was probably too much but after a few steps, you heard Steve shout to you, “I’ll be counting down the seconds!”

You faced back towards him to see him grinning and walking backwards, before stopping next to a large black SUV that you hadn’t noticed was parked there with Bucky in the driving seat. Steve climbed into the car and you couldn’t hear what was said but by the shit-eating grin on Bucky’s face, whatever he had said was a tease as he was harshly shoved against the driver’s door.

Holy shit. You were actually going for a dinner date with Steve. But then… wasn’t this supposed to be your plan all along, to get him in a romantic setting and sweet talk your way into getting your brother a meeting? However, every second you were with Steve, the gang, your job, and your brother never once came to your mind, it was like your vision only zoned in on the Rogers leader and couldn’t see or think about anything else.

You were definitely becoming way too attracted and attached to him, that much was for sure but for once, you didn’t let these emotions scare you off, even though you knew everything would crash and burn one day, you were enjoying the here and now too much to even care. If this ended up destroying you then so be it.

Enzo was ecstatic when you revealed that you had a date with Steve, and even offered to have someone drive you there before you needed to ask. Naturally, he still had something to complain about as he saw the beautifully flowing dress that you were wearing, not satisfied that you weren’t showing enough skin but thankfully he didn’t make you change.

Staring at yourself in the mirror for far too long, you had decided to go for this look rather than your usual skin-exposed to sell your assets dress because you actually wanted to make a nice first impression. Also, the restaurant that was booked looked fancy so didn’t need more attention drawn to you when you arrived looking like a woman of the night.

Reluctantly, you bought his jacket, it wasn’t your property but the comfort you found in it, you didn’t want to return it, even though the scent on it was starting the fade to the smell of your own natural body scent instead.

You couldn’t deny your nerves, hands clammy and stomach twisting and turning with anticipation of seeing him again but that was soon replaced with excitement and almost…content, at seeing Steve outside of the restaurant, waiting for you.

“Do you need picking up?” your driver asked and you instantly said no, knowing that if he picked you up, this meant you had a limit as to how late you could be with Steve. Exiting the car, and shutting the door behind you, Steve’s eyes lit up and sparkled as he approached you, but he failed to hide the disapproved look he gave the car as it began to drive away.

“They don’t open the door for you either?” he asked, referring to your gang member driver. You shook your head, thinking ‘Were they supposed to?’ but didn’t vocalise this as you took in Steve’s appearance. He looked good, so fucking good in fact that your core clenched with arousal at seeing his obviously expensive white suit that had buttons lacing the front, a striped brown tie to match his leather shoes. “You look breathtaking”, Steve’s compliment snapped you out of your appreciative stare.

Looking up at his handsome face, you realised he was doing his own oggle at what you were wearing, your skin burned with excitement, feeling giddy as Steve finally offered his elbow for you to take. The way he looked at you, it was like he was in awe of you, rather than the usual hungry look that would make you cower from the other people you had to go on dates with.

Holding his jacket in one hand and placing your hand in the crook of his arm and letting him lead the way in. You’d never been treated this well, having doors held open for you, allowing you to lead the way through the tables to your seat which was then pushed in by Steve, it felt like you were in a movie even though in reality, these gentlemanly acts were the bare minimum in perspective.

The restaurant was stunning, it wasn’t overly full of other customers, and everything had an air of money, expensive decorations, and friendly staff, it was perfect. Your table was near the back of the restaurant, in the most quiet area giving some sort of privacy from prying eyes that all seemed to notice Steve as he walked through.

You were beaming and had to take a large drink of water to try and hide your expression, forcing yourself to calm down before Steve ran away from your overexaggerate happiness. However, as you looked over at him, watching as he undid the few buttons of his jacket, his own expression may have been calm, trying to uphold his tough exterior but, as he rested his hands on the table, you noticed that he was wringing his hands together slightly, the only sign that he was nervous which only made you smile more.

“You are looking very handsome, did you get Bucky to comb your hair?”, you joked, trying to ease the tension in your shoulders by not filtering what you wanted to say.

Steve looked to the side and chuckled, shaking his head, “Just because he’s my second-in-command, doesn’t mean that we spend every second together”.

“Are you sure about that? You guys work together, you’re best friends, he drives you everywhere you go, and I’m sure he’s waiting outside for you right now”. Steve’s eyes locked onto yours as he genuinely smiled, the gleam reaching his eyes.

“Firstly, he’s only waiting outside because he’s doing his job as my bodyguard and secondly… you may have a point but no he didn’t comb my hair”. You bite your lip, holding back the giggle with the thought of two gangsters combing each other's hair in their spare time. 

The waiter then approached and took both of your orders, returning with some fancy wine you’d never even heard of before but the alcohol helped to ease the initial nerves.

You and Steve stayed until closing and the night quickly replaced the rooftop as your favourite night of your life. Both of you didn’t even seem to blink as you held eye contact like you were scared that if you looked away, the other would disappear.

You had also never spoken so much about your life, ever before. Steve continuously asked questions and was genuinely interested, even if there weren’t many exciting things to tell him. He would continuously compliment you and at one point, after the empty plates were taken away, your hands accidentally touched on top of the table as you both simultaneously reached for your drinks but then they just stayed there, holding hands. His palms and fingertips were rough from training and there were small scars littering his knuckles but the sheer size of them dwarfed your own.

It was an odd sensation to feel so at ease with someone, especially someone so dangerous. Sure, the rumours were there for a reason, he had to be the top gangster by doing dangerous and violent acts but the way he was looking at you like you were the only one to make him smile before.

Not only this but you were surprised by just how willing he was to open up about his life when you were wanting to find out everything you could. Steve talked about his childhood, how he was quite an unwell kid, meeting Bucky and they both joined the army in their early adulthood, much to Bucky’s dismay with how ill Steve was. Then the most surprising information was when Steve’s voice quieted, glanced around so no one would overhear.

Steve and Bucky had been a part of experiments that seemed to change their DNA which caused them to be the bulky forms that they were now, with enhanced stamina, strength, and vision, everything seemed to be to an exaggerated level. It was almost unbelievable to listen to, but then he showed you a picture of him as a 20-year old and he was tiny, scrawny and ill-looking, nothing like the towering, healthy, muscular man that was sitting across the table from you now.

Steve was open and honest about everything, even though he didn’t know why he was so willing to tell the sister of his potential enemy about facts regarding his gang, but once he started he couldn’t stop. Like he wanted to share more of himself to be closer to you in some way and break down the Mafia leader wall that he automatically had around himself at all times.

“I think the servers are waiting for us to leave”,  Steve whispered as he peaked over your shoulder. Turning in your chair, you saw that all the other tables were empty and the waiters were sitting together having completed all the other work. How long had it even been? You could talk to Steve all night if you could.

Steve paid with a significant tip for everyone and placed a steady hand on your lower back as you both walked towards the exit. He had offered to have Bucky take you home but you decided that maybe a taxi would be better, still needing to keep some anonymity at your brother's home.

“You don’t have to wait with me”, you stared up at Steve as he stood close enough that you could feel his warmth, much like on the rooftop, maybe his heat was a side effect of the experiments he’d gone through. Steve didn’t answer your question, instead giving a deadpan look before looking at what you still held in your arms - his jacket.

The pit in your stomach returned as you reluctantly began to hand over his jacket but Steve held up a finger to wait as he began to pull off his white blazer. He noticed how much you found comfort in the navy jacket so gave you his white one, took the navy one from your grip and shrugged it on. “Gives me an excuse to see you again”, Steve commented as you held his white blazer close, he had to refrain from groaning as the navy jacket smelt like you, his cock twitching in his pants with how much he wanted to wake up to that smell every morning.

“Is it weird to say I wish this night wouldn’t end?” your voice was timid as you asked him, becoming slightly nervous as you stared at your shoes. Steve’s brown leather shoes moved closer to yours, the tips just brushing together with how close he now stood. One of his fingers slid underneath your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him.

You gazed at him, seeing his cheeks were slightly flushed again, lips parted and shining from where he had recently run his tongue along them, his captivating eyes half-lidded and for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you and what scared you a little was that you desperately wanted him to.

Steve wanted to kiss you, he had since before he knew who you truly were but for now, he instead tilted your head to the side and gently kissed your cheek, his finger slipping ever so slightly over your jaw as you seemed to forget how to breathe.

“Thank you for today, for showing me that there’s more to this world than just work, that there is some hope”, Steve admitted, his breath tickling your ear.

Now you definitely didn’t want the night to end and wished that you could reciprocate his words of affection but you panicked as the taxi pulled up next to you both. “Can I have your number?”

“I thought I was going to have to beg”, he was joking but the thought seemed to unlock something in your lonely, virgin brain and instantly had to rub your thighs together as tension built. Luckily Steve didn’t notice as he pulled out his phone from his back pocket, handing it to you to type your number into and then text it, your phone vibrating a second later with a text reading: ‘Tell me you’re mine”.

Your eyes were ablaze as you snapped your attention up to him but he was leaning over to open your taxi door, offering a hand to help you into the back seat. He even helped you to do your seatbelt, making sure you were safe before leaning into the car, “when can I see you again?” you asked, hopefully.

“I’ll cancel any plans if it means I get to see you, text me when you miss me and I’ll come running”, Steve inched forward and kissed your temple slowly, breathing in your smell one last time before standing back and shutting the door. The taxi began driving as you numbly said your address, eyes not leaving Steve’s as the car began to roll away until you could no longer see the blonde man anymore.

You felt overwhelmingly sad, an exaggerated feeling for someone who had only been on one date with the man but his attentiveness, made you feel like you were the only person in the room. Never in your life had you experienced someone caring for you or showing any sort of affection that didn’t leave you feeling used.

Your life was lonely and Steve was reminding you that this wasn’t how it was supposed to be so without losing your courage that suddenly flooded your heart, you pulled up Steve’s last text, reading the word ‘mine’ over and over again and decided to send him one make.

‘I’m yours’.

Arriving into the driveway of Enzo’s home, did it then click that you hadn’t in fact asked for the meeting. The one thing you actually had gone to do, you hadn’t done, Enzo not even crossing your mind throughout the entire night. You’d hoped that maybe he was asleep and then you could text Steve maybe, even though you weren’t sure what you’d say.

Your luck seemed to run out however as Enzo was waiting with anticipation for your return, not even giving you a second to take your shoes off before gripping your arm and dragging you to his office.

You couldn’t lie, not when there was so much expected from this meeting and if you said that Steve said yes and when you eventually were able to meet with him and he said no, Enzo’s reaction would be devastating.

When your brother lost his temper, he usually liked to take his anger out on objects around you, his office walls having to be replastered multiple times from where his fist had left holes. But recently, like the day before, he began to let his anger out on you by resting his knife against your throat with the threat to press harder.

However today, he didn’t remove his knife from its sheath and instead slammed your body into the wall with his hand around your neck, cutting off your airways. A loud buzzing filled your ears as you struggled to escape, you couldn’t even hear his words of anger, not until he threw you to the floor where you desperately gasped for air which was difficult as you tried not to hyperventilate.

“So what are you going to do, huh? TELL ME!” Enzo screamed and you cringed away from where he stood over you.

“I’ll- I’ll text him to meet tomorrow and I can ask him then, it’ll be better to ask in person”, your voice shook as the tears began flowing down your cheeks.

“Well go on then!”

Reaching into your pocket, your fingers trembled violently as you tried to type to Steve, heart pounding with anxiety. ‘Could we meet tomorrow? I’m not sure if I’m sounding too eager but I’d love to replay the favour and buy you lunch if you’re free?’

As you were waiting for a response, you massaged the skin of your neck as Enzo poured himself a heft glass of whiskey, drinking it all in a few gulps before pouring another one. As he was halfway through his second glass, Steve responded.

‘I meant what I said, I’m always free if it means I get to see you. I was just about to ask you for brunch tomorrow so great minds think alike and you aren’t repaying any favours, I want to treat you. Let me know where to pick you up, baby girl’.

You would have sheepishly grinned at his text but the realisation of actually having to portray his trust set in and you instead felt numb. After informing Enzo, he stormed off to god-knows-where, leaving you to crawl back to your bedroom and cry enough that your eyes were sore and swollen.

You didn’t want Steve to feel like you were just using him to get a meeting for your brother, but it was inevitable that as soon as you asked, the whirlwind of excitement and hope would soon extinguish.

You’d arranged to have Steve pick you up outside of Cakes Bakes at 11:30 the next day. To say you were exhausted was an understatement, you had only slept for an hour and that was only because you had cried for so long that you’d passed out. Your body and emotions felt drained, scared of Enzo, and worried about seeing Steve, it was a complete difference to how you were feeling 24 hours ago.

As you were only going for a late lunch, you decided to wear a simple dress that ended mid-thigh, the fabric was soft giving you space to breathe and not feel restricted. You also made sure to style your make-up so that it wasn’t obvious that your under eyes were swollen, even if the whites of your eyes were slightly red, you could always put that off to the cool weather making your eyes water.

You stared at his white jacket for far too long, thinking whether or not to bring it, but a selfish part of your mind decided to leave it on your bed, if Steve never wanted to see you again after today, then at least you could have this as a memory.

Taking a deep breath as you saw Steve’s SUV pull up to the curb, you allowed yourself to feel somewhat excited as he grinned at you, climbing out of the car to sweetly kiss your cheek. “God, you look amazing”.

“Thank you, so do you, are you always this dressed up?” You asked, surprised that your voice sounded so confident with how awful you felt inside but you did want to know the answer to your question. Steve was dressed in a crisp white shirt, the top two buttons undone and black pants that shaped perfectly over his sculptured ass… ok wait you needed to not be so quick to stare as he held the car door open for you.

“I need to keep up appearances, don’t I?” he cockily responded with a smirk that made you flush with excitement. As Steve closed your door and began walking around the car to get back into the driver's side, another voice from behind you made you scream.

“Hey, I’m Bucky, it’s nice to finally meet you!” Turning in your chair, fast enough to make you dizzy you were greeted with a gloved hand, extended for you to shake and the owner of that hand grinning hard enough to show the dimples in his cheeks.

With one hand, you grabbed your chest feeling your pounding heart beneath, not having expected anyone else to be in the car, and with the other hand, accept Bucky’s handshake, the hand within the glove feeling solid but Steve had already explained that he had a metal arm due to an incident in the army. “Hi, I’m Y/N”.

“Sorry”, Steve apologised as he shut his door, “I should have warned you he was here. I told him I was going to grab some food and he insisted that needed to come with me”, Steve growled the last part in annoyance.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, “I’m just doing my job Boss”, but you could tell by the hint of mischief in his eyes that he came to snoop. “Anyway, I’m like a shadow, you won’t even know I’m here”, he readjusted in his seat, getting comfortable as he looked between you and Steve.

“It’s fine,  I know you both come as a pair, you were all Steve could talk about yesterday”, you teased Steve.

“Oh really? And it’s Steve is it? Already on a first-name basis I see”, Bucky eyed you with contemplation and his comment sparked your interest. He’d introduced himself as Steve, was it unusual for him to do so? You looked towards the blonde for answers but he looked ready to punch Bucky in the face for saying too much but he quickly changed the subject.

“So what do you want to eat?” Steve asked, turning on the car.

You all decided on Subway and rather than eating in the car, the boys suggested going back to the office to eat in the comfort of Steve’s office. You agreed, happy to go wherever they wanted but with the realisation that they felt comfortable enough to show the location of Steve’s office and welcomed as a friend rather than a sister of an enemy gang, you suddenly felt nauseous. 

There were lots of people everywhere who all smiled and waved at Steve and Bucky, but also remained respectful towards their boss, it was a much nicer dynamic to have than the one you grew up around. The three of you rode up the escalator to Steve’s office, it seemed Bucky was going to be eating with you too but you didn’t mind, he was easy to be around and just as gentlemanly as Steve, holding doors open and carrying your food for you.

Steve sat behind his giant oakwood desk, as you and Bucky sat in two guest chairs facing him, food wrappers in laps as you all ate and casually chatted. But even with how at ease Steve and Bucky made you feel as you forced the food into your mouth, you couldn’t help but feel sick, and empty.

“Everything ok?” Steve asked as he noticed your eyes hadn’t wandered away from the spot on the floor and since the run-in at Cakes Bakes two days ago, you never seemed to look away from his face, he missed your eyes.

Looking up, swallowing far too quickly, you plastered a fake smile on your face, hoping it reached your eyes, “Yeah I’m fine! Sorry my mind is a little all over the place”.

Steve frowned slightly, placing his half-eaten sandwich on the desk, “I haven’t made you uncomfortable coming here, have I?”

“No, you haven't, I promise, in fact, this is making me feel a little better, even with your shadow over here blatantly gate-crashing our date”, you joked, pointing your thumb at Bucky who grinned with a mouthful of food that made you giggle again.

Steve didn’t seem convinced by your excuse though, as he questioned, “So there is something wrong for you to feel better now we are here?”

You couldn’t hold his intense stare anymore and glanced at your lap, willing your mind to work and think of an excuse, ANY excuse, “I’m just tired, I’m fine, it’s nothing”.

Steve watched you try and suppress your emotions and contemplated a few facts. Over the few days that he had been getting to know you and allowing his own obsession to play out with wanting to be with you like you were his own personal drug. There was one topic, one person that had yet to be discussed so reluctantly he asked, “Is this about your brother?”

Steve assumed that maybe Enzo had found out about Steve taking his sister on a few dates and was being an overprotective sibling and maybe the two of you had a disagreement but as he saw tears pooling in your eyes and your bottom lip beginning to wobble, he didn’t care what had caused it, there was absolutely no way he was going to let someone upset you.

You were overwhelmingly stressed, realising it was now or never and nodded your head to answer Steve’s question. Both men seemed to gravitate towards you as your emotions began to spiral, Steve kneeling directly in front of you and Bucky to your left, removing your sandwich from your lap to give Steve room to reach for your hands.

“You’re going to hate me”, you admitted to him, sighing sadly as he stroked his thumb against your cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, you aren’t capable of doing anything severe enough to make me hate you”, Steve tried to comfort.

“You’ve only known me for a few days”, you pointed out quietly.

Steve tilted your face up to his so you could see the sincerity in his eyes, “Yes, but I’d like to think I’m able to read people well and sweetheart, you don’t have a malicious bone in your body”.

“You won’t be saying that after this, you don’t know what I’ve done”.

Taking a deep breath that did next to nothing to settle your nerves, your hands remained in Steve’s as you began to explain what was happening. How for years you had been used as a bargaining chip for Enzo, flirting with customers of his to get what he wanted and after meeting on the rooftop, Enzo had demanded that you do the same with Steve to try and get a meeting for him.

“But then every time we’ve been together, I forgot about Enzo, about his mission for me and every time I go home, he’s there, expecting me to have arranged things for him but then I haven’t and he’s mad. But then, every time we are together and the closer we get, I realise how much I don’t want to lose whatever it is that’s between us but that only makes it worse when I inevitably have to ask if you could please meet with Enzo?”

Steve’s eyes harden the longer you talked, and for a moment you expected the anger to be directed at you but his thumb continued to draw idle circles on the back of your hand as he questioned, “Does Enzo have anger issues?”

“Doesn’t everyone in this job?” you answered honestly, finding his thumb movements relaxing as you looked down at where they lay in your lap.

“Not for people you love”, Steve’s voice was calm as he spoke, sounding sincere but you could hear the rage behind his words and by the way his jaw clenched.

“Did he hurt you?” Bucky asked with icy rage. The tension in the room seemed to shift as both men waited with bated breath for your answer and for a minute you contemplated telling them the truth but if something happened to Enzo, what would happen to you? Where would you go?

So you shook your head, no. Hoping that they believed you as more tears flowed. “I didn’t want you to think I was like everyone else, that I was just using you to benefit the gang”.

Steve’s eyebrows unfurrowed as he shifted closer on his knees, “Don’t cry baby,”, he quickly wiped away your tears again, “your reaction is proof enough that you held no malicious intent behind our meetings, and that you are nothing like your brother. You’ve had plenty of opportunity to ask for this bullshit meeting and only when pushed into a corner have you asked”.

You took a few steading breaths, full of unbelieveable relief that caused the tension to ease in your chest. “I hate seeing you sad and knowing that someone’s made you feel this way. You should feel safe, I mean, are you even safe living at home with him?” There was hesitation in Steve’s voice like the answer would change everything.

“I think I’m safe, he needs me too much”, your answer wasn’t necessarily a lie as such, but the increasing violence didn’t need to be discussed.

“If you’re ever not safe, you know you can always come to me, don’t you? No one would be able to get within 2 feet of you with me around, I promise you”. 

You stared deep into his eyes, seeing them full of honesty and genuine care, and it wasn’t something you wanted to run towards, that safety net that he was offering to you.

The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift as you couldn’t blink or even force air into your lungs as Steve’s eyes captivated you. At some point, Bucky took this moment to step away, understanding that you both needed some time alone and as the office door clicked closed, the restraint both you and Steve had been holding onto shattered.

The two of you met in the middle, your body flying out of the chair, arms going around his neck as he cradled your hips, pulling you to the floor, knees pressed against him and his mouth lowered to yours. The kiss was bruising and full of desperation on both parts, wanting to be as close as possible, head tilting one way to the other, lips moving frantically needing to taste each other.

As your tongue teased his bottom lip, Steve seemed to lose some restraint as his whole body shivered, a deep groan coming from the back of his throat as his large arms wrapped around your body and he easily swapped your positions so that he now sat in the chair and you were straddling his lap. Your dress rose higher up your thighs as they burned from the stretch over his muscular thighs, your hips wanting to grind down against him however, this was unknown territory for you, but you could definitely feel the hardening lump that brushed against your thighs with his peaking arousal. Even though this wasn’t your first kiss, that was as far as your experience went.

Steve’s hands stroked up your back as he sighed with content, his tongue daring to dip into your mouth and both of your groaned as yours touched his. Your fingers were doing their own exploring, from the hard muscles of his shoulders, up to the surprisingly soft whisps of hair behind his ears, a strong contrast to the rough facial hair that was rubbing against your cheeks.

You wanted more, needed more of him and for a moment, you were ready to give it to him, but as Steve’s mouth began to kiss along your jaw, you had the sudden urge to tell him, “I’m a virgin”.

Steve pulled back immediately, hands moving to rest on your hips as his glazed-over eyes searched your face, “sorry, we don’t have to do anything that’ll make you uncomfortable-”

You swiftly cut off his chivalrous speech by attaching your mouth back to his in a longing kiss, taking your time to pull back and rest your forehead against his. “That’s not what I meant, I want to do this with you more than you could ever know but I also don’t want the first time to be in a small leather chair”.

Steve grinned, pecking your lips one more time before nuzzling into your neck, “I don’t want that for you either, sweetheart. I just want you to be happy”. Your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest as you held him tighter.

“I’m happy when I’m with you, I’ve never felt like this with anyone before, like I’m actually safe when you’re around.”

“That’s because you are safe, I’ll always keep you safe”. Steve pulled back so that he could look into your eyes, stroking a hand across your cheek, “I don’t want you going back to where he is, without me there, what if something happens”.

“Nothing will happen, and I’ll always come back to you”.

“Will you call me if anything does happen? Or if I give you a call, if you don’t answer by the second ring, I’ll know something is wrong and I’ll come to find you.”

Nodding your head you agreed to his terms, you were always by your phone so was pretty simple to answer unless something was wrong. “What do you want me to tell him about this meeting?”

“Tell him I can do it today, I need to see that coward's face.” Your nerves began to surface again and so Steve tenderly kissed your cheek, as your lips were slightly swollen from the make-out session. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to your brother if you don’t want me to, you’re my priority through all of this”.

Your stomach bubbled with an unknown feeling as you admitted, “I’ve never been someone's priority before”.

Steve’s eyes saddened, “I hate that it’s taken you this long to feel justified and that you matter”. Your fingers stroked across his cheek, following the direction of his hair in soft motions and you could tell he was nervous for his next statement. “During the meeting, you’re going to see a side of me that you might not recognise but, I need to be the boss if it's the boss he wants to see so bad that he’s willing to use you to get to me”.

“I know”, you say, leaning your head on his shoulders, and relaxing into his embrace and you realised that this was probably the first intimate hug you’d ever received and it felt so good and right.

“I just need you to remember this version of me, the one that wants to protect you and keep you safe”.

“I’m not scared of any version of you Steve. The boss or the one that I’m seeing now.”

He kissed your temple, “I really want to fucking kill your brother for making you cry”, he admitted, his words full of aggression, not matching the soft touches that he was providing.

“To be honest, I hardly even see him as my brother, I haven’t for a while so let’s call him Enzo and pretend that he’s not”.

Steve nodded his head and continued to hold you for a little while longer but then eventually shifted, “Go and call Enzo, I think it’s time I meet him properly”.

[barbarianprncess]

annabeth chase and her many losing dogs: an (incomplete) anthology

read on ao3

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chapter one: a (brief) introduction to the game and it's players

She gives Cerberus her red rubber ball.

Because he’s a monster, but she doesn’t think he means to be.

Because he’s a lonely dog and she is lonely the same way. The kind that doesn’t know how lonely it is until a person shows up and reminds them. The kind that wishes to just be left in loneliness long enough for companionship to be forgotten altogether.

The ball will make him happy. He will destroy it within minutes, it will disappear after he does nothing but be himself.

(She does that sometimes too.)

First Round: Frederick Chase

Bet Type: Blind Faith; awarded via mass tradition.

Made with no experience. 

Trust given without the knowledge that trust must be earned. 

Annabeth is four years old and hungry. 

She hasn’t eaten since dinner last night. 

Dad is playing with his planes again. The fancy small piece ones that Annabeth is not allowed to touch, ‘not now, not ever.’ She’s not supposed to bother Dad when he plays with his planes. 

Plane time is Dad’s very special ‘by himself’ time. He’d explained a while ago that he has lots of very hard work to do, and then he has to take care of her which is even more lots of hard work,  and sometimes he needs his special ‘by himself’ time, because Annabeth is a big girl now who can read her books and not touch the sockets. 

(She wonders why he doesn’t do his special ‘by himself’ time when she’s taking her naps. That way they could have their together time when she’s awake.)

This would be fine, but she just ate the last of her super secret dad-is-in-his-study snack stash that she hides under her bed last week. 

She wants to go in and ask, but the last time she’d interrupted him, even though he smiled at her, his eyebrows got all scrunched up together. He was not happy to see her.

(Sometimes, she wonders if he ever is.)

Annabeth is really very hungry.

There are bananas on top of the fridge.

Annabeth creates a plan. 

The plan goes south almost immediately and she ends up dangling from the top of the white mountain with glass and bananas all over the ground. 

“Christ! Annabeth!” She is being yanked from her very small cliff and carried into the living room and Dad’s voice is very loud and his face is more than scrunched eyebrows and Annabeth is ashamed.

“What were you doing?”

“I was climbing on top of the fridge. I knocked over a vase.” 

That was the wrong answer because somehow his face gets even angrier. “Yes, I can see that. What were you thinking?”

“I wanted a banana. They were on top of the fridge.” 

He pinches his nose. That wasn’t the right answer either. “You just had breakfast.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. You had the fruit circles.”

“That was yesterday.”

He hesitates. “Okay, well you did wake up late, you couldn’t have waited until it was time to eat lunch?”

The clock on the microwave says 4:13 pm. “It is lunch.” 

He looks at the clock. Closes his eyes. When he opens them, he still looks angry but not at her. His voice is much quieter. “Why didn’t you come get me?”

“Last time you got sad. You were in a groove, you said unless it was an emergency not to come in. I thought I could reach it.”

She watches his face change. His eyebrows are still scrunched up but his eyes get gentler and sadder all at once. He sits down on the couch and lifts her up into his lap. It’s been so long, she sits on his knees like he’s a chair. He turns her around in his arms. 

“You’re such a quiet kid, Annabeth. Sometimes I forget you're here.”

She doesn’t think he said it to make her sad, but it does anyway. Which is irritating because she didn’t do anything wrong and she feels bad anyway. 

“I was a quiet kid too.”

She doesn’t want to be quiet. She wants to scream. She wants to cry. She wants to hit him. She wants—

“I’m gonna clean up the glass and then we’ll have mac and cheese.”

She nods and lets herself be sat back on the couch.

Second Round: Ms. Helen (from Dad’s work)

Bet Type: Good Faith; awarded via proxy.

Made with no experience. 

Trust given without the knowledge that trust must be earned. 

The first time her father forgets to pick her up from daycare, she is too young to remember. She was also too young to remember the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th times. 

She remembers the sixth.

Ms. Helen, dad’s work friend that has come to dinner  every wednesday for four weeks, shows up at school wearing black yoga pants and a messy-on-purpose bun.

(The kind that always looks strange in the bathroom mirror when she tries it on her curls in the morning before they leave.)

She smiles at her teacher, tight and pinchy. She does that laugh/talk/sigh thing adults do when the words they're saying don’t really matter. And before Annabeth knows it, she's staring at the backseat of a minivan.

“What’s that?”

Ms. Helen raises an eyebrow. “The car seat?”

Annabeth nods but looks down. She said it like it was obvious. Annabeth knows obvious things.

“Don’t you sit in one of  these to come to daycare?” 

“No.”

“You just sit in the seat?”

“Yes.”

“You're too little. It’s not safe to sit by yourself.”

Annabeth doesn’t know what she's supposed to say. This happens a lot. Adults do this thing where they ask you a question that they want a specific answer to. Annabeth has developed a skill in which she can always tell when the truth is not what an adult wants to hear. It has, so far, been a pretty useless skill because she has yet to master the skill of knowing what it is that they actually want to hear. 

(Sometimes, she figures it out and tells the truth anyway. Those times she doesn’t really mind getting in trouble after.)

“Your father must’ve put you in one of these.”

Annabeth shrugs. Her talent has deduced that Helen does not want Annabeth to say that she has never been in one of those, and figures nonverbal is the safest option because she would like to go home.

Helen crouches down and gets way up close to Annabeth's face. Her grown-up face-paint is smudged around the corner of her left eye. She smells like dish soap. 

“I borrowed this from my friend when your father called, so we have to get you your own. From now on, you don’t get in a car without one of these. Understand?”  

Annabeth nods.

Helen is looking at her with something strange and sad in her smudged up eye. She takes a deep breath.

Annabeth crawls into the backseat and waits to be tied in.

Fourth Round: Thalia Grace, Grover Underwood & Luke Castellan

Bet Type: Calculated Risk; awarded to an individual after carefully evaluated outcomes

Made after a great loss, in which perceived benefits outweigh potential detriment. 

Trust earned after a win. 

Thalia is frowning at her. 

Annabeth hasn’t been with her and Luke for that long, but she knows that this is not cause for too much concern because she’s usually frowning. 

Luke is the one with the smiles, and the cuddles, and the soft spot for the helpless strays—dogs and girls alike.

Thalia is the one with the frowns. 

(Annabeth can tell she has a soft spot for Luke though.)

Before she can muster up the courage to ask, Luke beats her to it. “What’s up with you?”

“Her hair.” Thalia has a talent where she can frown and speak at the same time. Annabeth wants to learn how to do that.

Luke smiles at her before fixing his eyes on her puff. She gets that feeling in her stomach she used to get when her teachers asked her questions about her house, like she should be hiding behind her fathers legs. 

(The last time she tried, Helen had snatched her arm and told her she was being rude.)

“Her hair.” He repeats in a way that tells both Annabeth and Thalia he has no idea what the problem is.

Thalia ignores him, and scribbles something down on his arm. “I saw a beauty supply store down the road. I need you to figure out a way to get this stuff.”

Luke frowns over her shoulder. (Uh-oh.) “That’s gonna be a bit of a stretch.”

“So stretch.”

“Thals—,”

She looks up at him and her eyes are all intense like when she’s fighting a monster. “They weren’t combing her hair. I took the hair tie off and it’s staying put. She’s only been on the run for 3 days.” Thalia looks back down at her. “Right? That’s how long you were by yourself?”

“Yes.” Annabeth nods. One of her favorite parts about being with Luke and Thalia, is that the truth is always enough.

Thalia looks back at Luke with something in her eyes that’s even softer than when Luke sleeps. “They weren’t combing her hair.”

Luke nods, a new kind of frown. The one he had when they found her. “On it.”

He winks at Annabeth and tweaks her nose which makes her laugh. Then he’s gone and it’s just the two of them. 

Annabeth and Thalia have never been alone for that long before, except for bathroom trips and when Luke gets them snacks.

Annabeth knows it wasn’t Thalia’s idea for her to join the two of them. Annabeth doesn’t think she wanted to leave her there, but she knows Thalia liked it when it was just her and Luke.

She’s looking up at the sky muttering something angry in another language. “What’s Luke going to get?” 

Thalia considers her for a moment and then sits down leaning against the brick alleyway. “Some hair stuff. Basics.”

“I thought we only took risks for food.”

Thalia smiles a little and it makes Annabeth's chest feel fuzzy. 

“You’re a smart kid.” She pats the ground next to her and Annabeth goes to sit next to her. 

“My mother…had a bad time. Things that aren’t supposed to be hard for mortals were very hard for her. And sometimes that made her not very nice to me.” She pauses and Annabeth waits patiently, doesn’t dare speak a word.

“She couldn’t really take care of herself. So, she couldn’t really take care of me either. My hair is curly like yours. And hair like ours needs special attention. When you don’t give it the care it needs, it gets stuck like this.” She takes Annabeth's hand and brings it up to her head, lets her tug on one strand gently. 

“I like your hair a lot!”

“Thank you. I do too. But, it wasn’t my choice. My mother let my hair loc up so she didn’t have to comb it every day. You should get to decide whether you want your hair like this. Did you ask to have your hair up in a bun for that long?”

Annabeth could tell her how her Dad used to braid her hair on Sunday nights. How they would sit and listen to music and he would spray and comb and braid until she fell asleep on his leg. How when he and Helen got married, he suddenly had no time to do anything that Helen could do instead. How her slick, shiny, and smooth haired stepmother would wrinkle down at her curls, yank a brush through her head and tell her she was ‘impossible’. 

But, she doesn’t. She looks down at her shoes and doesn’t say anything at all.

Thalia, even smaller than before, says, “Your parents weren’t very nice to you either. Were they?”

She doesn’t answer. 

She doesn’t have to. 

‘You’re such a quiet kid, Annabeth.’ 

(When Luke gets back, he and Thalia spend three hours spraying and combing and braiding until Annabeths hair isn’t stuck anymore.)

(In a few months, a satyr named Grover will take them to camp. 

Thalia will not make it across the border.)

(Annabeth will refuse to let anyone touch her hair for a year.)

Final Round: Perseus Jackson

Bet Type: Wild Card; awarded to an individual that fails to qualify through conventional procedure.

Made with gut feelings, no logic, and excruciating human defiance. 

Trust is given without measure.

Annabeth's first thought when she sees him for the first time is, “He must be the one.”  

She’s sure of it. She says it out loud. Chiron tells her to hush, and she doesn’t even care. 

He's the one. 

She's not sure how she knows. She's waited for so long, seen so many campers. Many were far more promising than he is.

That's her second thought. He's skinnier than she thought ‘the one’ would be. Skinny and pale and more gangly limb than person.  

He’s blinking up towards them but his eyes are unfocused and hazy. That's her third thought. He's fading. They’ll have to carry him. 

‘Percy’ Chiron calls him. It’s a hero’s name. 

She wonders if whoever gave it to him knew he’d be the one too.

‘He’s the one.’, she thinks again. It feels strange and tingly in her head. 

Strange, but not false. 

Hello, Percy Jackson. It's nice to finally meet you.

[angelasscribbles]

Audrey's Broken Heart

Fandom: Astrea's Broken Heart (Romance Club)

Pairings: Audrey (F!MC) x multiple LI's

Word Count: 2,479

Rating: MA for mentions of violence

Warnings for this chapter: mentions of violence (canon), slight sexual innuendo.

A/N: So that last chapter (season 2, chapter 1) left something to be desired in my mind. So I rewrote it and tweaked a few things.

I have no idea who to tag other than @harleybeaumont because I don't know who is into this story and I can't even remember the RC blog that is like CFWC so here it goes out into the ether. May the odds be ever in it's favor!

My other stuff: Master List.

The world spun as I lay on my back, gazing up at the stained glass window above me.

So this is how I die.

The fucking irony.

I had escaped one religious cult only to fall victim to another… after a lifetime of avoiding and rejecting even the most mundane churches and religious philosophies.

How? How had I ended up here?

This was Ruth’s fault.

Assigning blame wouldn’t help me now. I needed help, but there was no one to call. My cell phone was gone, and no one even knew where I was. Instead, I prayed. I prayed to a God I had ceased to believe in. I prayed fervently as I cast my eyes around the church searching for a way out… a weapon… an ally…. Anything of use.

There was nothing.

Nothing and no one. And no response from God.

I closed my eyes against the inevitable. A deep, all-encompassing grief spread through me.

I wasn’t ready to die. 

Faces flashed through my mind, but not the ones you would think.

It wasn’t my parents or a lost love that occupied my dying thoughts. No. It was the four men who had inexplicably become my whole world.

David. He had offered to come with me or at least drive me here, but I hadn’t let him. I should have let him. But then he’d be in the same predicament. David. Sweet, sarcastic, passionate. The world needed him in it. At least I could die knowing he was safe. That was some amount of comfort.

Mikael. Would he be disappointed? Sad? I thought so, but I wasn’t sure. There seemed to be a connection between us, but nothing tangible, nothing ever spoken. He was the consummate professional. He would be there to comfort the others.

Cassiel. His job was to protect us. Where was he now? Would he blame himself? I hoped not. He was already too serious, too angry at the world. Despair filled me as I realized that the progress we’d made would die with me. All those cracks in his armor would refill and seal shut forever.

Raphael. He lived with a deep, pervasive sadness. This would only make it worse. It might destroy him. He was too good for this world. Compassionate. Caring. Vulnerable. As I lay dying, I swore I could feel his soft lips on mine again.

There was a commotion and my eyes fluttered open, but what I saw didn’t make any sense. Or maybe it did.

I saw an angel, which was appropriate because I was dying. Had he come to collect my soul?

I could feel my life slipping away. I was too weak to fight anymore, too weak to even cry out for help, too weak to understand what was happening around me.

No one was trying to kill me anymore. The cult members had scattered. A booming voice filled the room, promising damnation and darkness.

The angel was raining vengeance down on the evildoers. It would have made me happy if I’d had the energy to feel anything at all.

Through the last vestiges of consciousness, my fog addled brain registered something wholly impossible.

The angel…. It was Raphael.

My eyes closed again as I sank into the darkness.

The next thing I was aware of was the warmth of my own bed.

My body was leadened. I couldn’t move or speak, but I knew I was home, and more importantly, alive.

Barely.

I was vaguely aware of voices as I faded in and out of consciousness. Distressed murmurs. Fervent pleas to live. Voices that rose and fell in discord and grief.

When my eyes opened, I was in a verdant valley of lush green grass and rolling hills. The sky above me was a vibrant blue.

Across the valley was a glimmering golden light pulsating from an open portal. I could feel the peace emanating from it. I felt pulled toward it. I wanted to go to it, enter it, and forget all the pain and chaos of the world I’d left behind, but when I took a step toward it, I felt an equally compelling pull in the other direction. I turned to look back and found myself staring down at my own body.

Mikael perched next to me holding my hand, heedless of the blood covering it, and now him. “I can’t hear her.” His voice was filled with despair.

I felt his touch and the pull to go back became slightly stronger. I took a step in that direction and paused again, casting a glance back at that golden glow that promised peace.

My mother appeared beside me. Laying her hand on my shoulder, she gave me a look filled with compassion, love, and regret. “It’s up to you if you go back or not.”

“Mom?” My voice quivered. I opened my mouth but couldn’t decide which of the million questions spilling through my head I should ask.

Before I could process the fact that my mother was with me, that I was being offered a choice between continuing life or not; before I could ask her anything, the pull from my body grew stronger.

“You were sent to us for a reason, Audrey…”

I looked back to see Mikael holding my body close to his. Mikael covered in my blood. Mikael pouring his healing energy into my broken body. Mikael with tears of grief pouring down his face. My choice was made, and I was suddenly back in my body.

“I’m sorry, Audrey, but healing souls is beyond my power…”

What power was he talking about? I still couldn’t speak, couldn’t open my eyes. Everything hurt. He lowered me onto the bed and laid his head on my chest, listening to my heartbeat. He started to pull away from me, but I finally managed to move, wrapping my arms around him weakly.

He froze. Hope filled his voice. “Audrey?”

I clutched at him tighter, and he moved so that he was lying next to me, cradling me in his arms. “It’s okay, Audrey. I’m here, I’m here.”

“Audrey?” It was Raphael’s voice, and it flooded me with memories of dying. Quiet but terrified sounds issued from the back of my throat.

He tried again. “Audrey, you are home. You are safe.”

Yes. Home. Safe. Raphael was here, Mikael was here. I was safe. My eyes fluttered open and my heart surged with joy and relief when I saw his face. Then my gaze dropped to his white shirt, rumpled and soaked in blood. Was it my blood? Or the blood of the cult members?

No. That was impossible.

The image of Raphael as an avenging angel came back to me, and I swear I saw him that way again. Standing in my bedroom at Astrea, glowing with wings sprouting from his back. I clutched harder to Mikael as I shrank away from him.

Pain flashed through Raphael’s eyes. “Audrey, I saved you. I’m not trying to hurt you.”

I blinked several times. One moment he had wings, the next moment he didn’t. I was losing my mind. Of course Raphael would never hurt me.

Mikael held me tight and reassured me. “It’s okay, Audrey. Raphael would never hurt you.” Then to Raphael, “She’s been through a trauma. She needs time.”

“Of course, I’ll go.” He sounded so broken that my heart shattered.

“Wait!” I cried out. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Audrey. Would you like me to take away the memory?”

I blinked up at him as he approached. “What?”

“I can take away the memory of what you saw.”

“How?”

He gave me a sad smile. “The same way Mikael healed you. There are things about us that you don’t know. Your memories will be recoverable, but this will give your mind a chance to heal before we confront all that.”

“No.” I shook my head as a vision of my mother in a verdant meadow flashed through my mind. “Don’t take my memories. Just…. Hold me for a moment?”

Mikael released me as I was engulfed in Raphael’s arms. I clung to him as if my life depended on it. He had saved me. Twice now. The memory of him catching me when I had fallen swirled through my mind. I had no idea what he was or if my mind had been playing tricks on me in that church, but to the very core of my soul, I knew that this being would never hurt me. None of them would. The tears started as my body began to shake, a delayed reaction to the horror I had experienced.

A clatter in the hallway drew everyone’s attention. Mikael excused himself to check on it. I heard raised voices in the hallway. Mikael’s and David’s.

Snippets of the conversation floated in to me. Enough to discern that David had done something to the villagers and that Mikael wasn’t happy about it.

I pushed away from Raphael and looked up into his face. “Let him in. I want David. Please!”

I needn’t have asked. The next moment, he was barging through the door. “Audrey! Audrey, are you okay?”

I pushed myself up into sitting as he threw himself onto the bed. Another man covered in blood, but not mine. David hadn’t been there like Raphael and he wasn’t the one that had healed me like Mikael.

The cult members. The villagers. I instinctively knew whose blood it was and why. He hadn’t been there in time to rescue me, but he had avenged me, and I loved him for it.

“I think so,” I answered as he pulled my body this way and that, inspecting me for injuries. When he was satisfied that I was no longer dying, he embraced me fiercely as tears slipped down his face. “I thought we had lost you!”

“I’m here. I’m alive. Thanks to Raphael and Mikael.”

Raphael wrapped his arms around me from the other side, and the three of us sat that way for a long while.

When David pulled away to wipe the wetness from his face, I looked around the room to find Mikael standing awkwardly at the end of the bed. I gave him a weak smile. There was only one person missing.

Before I could ask where he was, Cassiel appeared in the doorway, as if summoned by my thoughts.

“How is she—” his question was cut short as his eyes fell on me sitting up in the bed.

He then did the most un-Cassiel thing I’d ever seen. A smile of relief and joy lit up his face as he bound across the room and leapt onto the bed unceremoniously knocking the other men out of his way as he scooped me into his arms and hugged me firmly against him while raining kisses on the top of my head. “Audrey, you’re alive!”

“Yes!” a laugh burst out of me despite the terror I’d been through. Cassiel acting like an over exuberant puppy was possibly even more surprising and unlikely than me being kidnapped by a deranged cult.

I looked around at the other three men, but none of them seemed upset at being displaced.

David was a little bemused while Raphael radiated nothing but happiness. Mikael wore a thoughtful expression as his eyes traveled from me to each of the other men.

The image of wings sprouting from Raphael’s back was still occasionally there when I gazed at him, but it was fading as I convinced myself that part had been a dream.

But I was healed. Raphael had managed to save me somehow. Mikael had done something to bring me back. Raphael had admitted to having powers. And David had somehow gotten to the village and back in a time frame that didn’t seem wholly possible.

I pushed all of that to the side. There would be time for questions later. I needed a shower. And food.

Cassiel released me and moved away as if suddenly embarrassed by his outburst. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I told him before requesting privacy for a shower.

I stood before the bathroom mirror and inspected my body. There were no cuts, scrapes, bruises, or other signs of the torture I had endured.

How was that possible?

I hugged myself for a moment before stepping under the spray of hot water. Whatever had happened, I was happy to be alive and whole again. At least physically.

When I emerged from the shower, there were fresh, clean sheets on my bed. I sank into it gratefully.

One by one, the guys showed back up. Mikael brought food with him. I devoured it. I guess almost dying works up an appetite. I noticed they had all showered and changed as well. All physical proof of my ordeal had been erased. My body had been healed. My mind and soul were going to take a little longer.

Cassiel was the first to move toward the door. “I guess we should get out of here and let you get some rest.”

My cheeks flamed red as I stared down at my comforter and asked, “Could one of you stay?”

David spoke up immediately. “I’ll stay!”

“We’ll take turns.” Mikael’s tone brooked no disagreement.

“Fine,” David acquiesced, “I’ll take the first shift.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Raphael said. “You’ve been through a horrible ordeal. It’s normal to need support.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be here in two hours to relieve you,” Cassiel told David, then turning his attention to me said, “We won’t leave you alone and I promise no one will ever hurt you again.”

Something in his tone made my heart race. I believed him.

The others trailed out of the room. Someone clicked the light off.

David gazed at me with the same intensity he always did, but all the playfulness was gone. “Tell me what you need, little witch.”

The familiar nickname earned a small smile from me as I snuggled into the covers. “Just talk to me until I fall asleep.”

“I can do that.”

“Would it be weird if I asked you to lay in the bed with me?��

His mischievous grin finally returned. “If I ever say no to that, go ahead and shoot me because I’ve clearly lost my mind.”

“Stop it,” I scoffed, “I’m serious!”

“So am I.”

He climbed into bed and tenderly wrapped his arms around me. As if he were afraid I would break. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” My body relaxed into his. I listened to the sound of his voice as the horror of the day receded a little.

As I slipped off to sleep, I knew one thing for certain. Everything bad that had ever happened to me had happened outside these walls. Whatever was going on in here, I was safe. I was surrounded by love. I was home.

[ereana]

drabble prompts: zhongven; 2, 36, and/or 50

Zhongven 2 - The thought of losing you scares me

Venti was angry.

He didn’t like being angry. It scraped against his mind like shards of glass turning the very air around him into sharp stinging winds, the sort that left humans chilled to the bone on a cold winter’s day when not even the warmest coat could keep out the cold.

It was a little embarrassing really. He was one of the oldest gods left yet he still was at the mercy of his own emotions unlike a certain blockhead who—

The sound of splintering wood filled his ears as the tree beside him disintegrated into sawdust as the very air around it tore into the bark in a sudden fit of rage. Venti pinched his brow and let out a deep sigh.

Right. This was why he was here sitting on one of the cliffs overlooking the Stone Gate instead of drowning his sorrows at the Angel’s Share. Diluc might actually try to kill him if Venti destroyed the building because of his bad mood. Plus he didn’t want to accidentally hurt any of his people who were completely innocent and had nothing to do with his current displeasure unlike a certain traitorous liar of a lizard that he was determinedly not thinking about. 

A few unlucky birds flying overhead let out chirps of alarm as they were suddenly spent spinning towards the ground, with a flick of his fingers Venti corrected the breeze and sent them gracefully soaring towards Liyue.

He watched them silently for a few moments. While he wasn’t the sort of being to lose himself in melancholic thoughts there were times when taking a minute or two to just think could be helpful. And it wasn't like this was a normal situation either.

If it was normal, whatever normal meant to a wind wisp turned god turned ex-archon turned bard — although he had been a bard for quite some time so maybe the chronology needed some rethinking — then he wouldn’t have any issue controlling his anger. Venti would like it to be noted, probably in one of his own songs, that he was usually pretty good at the whole self control thing. He hadn’t turned his anger on Mondstadt when he’d learned what happened to Dvalin. There were secrets that could shake the world locked safely behind his teeth. Granted there were perhaps a few too many people who knew his true identity but it wasn’t his fault that his people were so perceptive!

With all that compelling evidence in mind, Venti was confident in asserting that had this been a normal issue he would not have had to exile himself to a barren cliff edge because he was a danger to everyone around him due to his fury turning the summer breeze into blades of anemo.

He nodded decisively before groaning at his own inability to deal with the actual problem

Although judging by the footsteps steadily approaching the problem had come to deal with him instead.

Venti closed his eyes and waited until the intruder had reached the top of the cliff, unable to get too close because of the protective vortex which now surrounded him but close enough to hear him.

“I’m mad at you.” Venti stated quietly, his voice devoid of its usual humour.

“I can tell.” Morax — or was it Zhongli now — said calmly. So calm it made the winds whip up into a frenzy sending blades of freshly cut grass spiraling into the sky. 

“Is that all you have to say?” He asked, and now there was a note of anger in his tone. “After what you—” Venti cut himself off, clicking his tongue in frustration at the mix of hurt, relief and sadness which swelled inside his chest.

“No, there is much I would say to you. If you would allow it.”

Venti laughed, a harsh sound that grated against his ears.

“Oh now I’m suddenly someone worth talking to. Now. When the damage has been done and the dust has settled here you come ready to make things right once more. What does the immediate upset matter when it can be fixed with a deal or a contract to replace what has been….” Venti stopped and finally turned to look at the man behind him. “I thought you died Morax.”

Morax stared at him quietly. They’ve known each for far too long to hide anything from the other and Venti can see in an instant that he won’t get an apology for what happened. Morax will offer one for hurting him, for not seeking him out straight away after the matter had concluded, but he won’t apologize for the act itself. 

“You had to, my dear. In case someone was watching the wind had to mourn the loss of the mountain.” Morax stepped forward causing Venti to instantly drop the vortex in case the old fool actually hurt himself.

It only took a few of his husband’s long strides before Morax was lowering himself to sit beside Venti. Venti, who hadn’t seen him since he woke up from his unplanned five hundred year long nap, dropped his head onto one firm shoulder. It was about as comfortable as using a rock for a pillow.

“The thought of losing you scares me more than anything. It almost broke me.” He admitted softly. 

If there really had been a murderer in the world Venti would not have stopped until he’d ripped the air from the culprit’s lungs himself.

Mor— no Zhongli was probably best to use now. Morax had died.

Zhongli wrapped a hesitant hand around Venti’s waist. Venti let him, too tired and too relieved to push away the comfort. His husband wasn’t wearing any gloves so the warmth from the golden veins in his hand seeps through Venti’s shirt to his skin. After five hundred years Venti was back where he belonged.

“Don’t do it again blockhead.”

A press of lips against his head, the stroke of a thumb against his waist, and the first contract made by the man known as Zhongli.

“I promise.”

[cowgurrrl]

Some way some how Joel and reader in lftl are able to take each other back to their homes from before. For closure and memories. They both are just two people who miss their babies. And now they get pictures and cards from their homes. Another little piece of Sarah and Jane to go back to jackson.

Hello do you have access to my wips I was literally working on this!! I wrote this more about reader going back to their last apartment because @hier--soir has an amazing fic about Joel going back to Texas and it's absolutely gorgeous <3 anyways, I hope you enjoy!! this made me CRYYYY

Never Grew Up With You

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: Jesus Christ I haven't cried at a fic like this in a LONG time I'm genuinely exhausted

Summary: "To never see her face again is what grief is." — Euripides, translated by Anne Carson, Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides aka this ask [1.5k]

Warnings: talks of Jane, memories, oh it's so sad

It's eerie being back in that town. It's empty, but the remnants of Outbreak Day linger in the streets— decomposed bodies, crashed cars, craters where the bombs hit. You recognize bits and pieces. The downtown area which used light up with Christmas lights and smell like funnel cake during the winter months. The church where you lied on the application form so Jane could get into daycare. Your apartment building. You stop in front of it, Joel at your side, and look up at it. 

It looks smaller than you remember it like maybe you romanticized the shithole after so many years of living in a worse shithole. Only a few windows still have glass, and you catch faded curtains flapping in the abandoned apartments. "Mommy, look!" Jane had yelled that day so you could catch the jets flying over the building. You were standing in the same area you are now. Your heart clenches, and Joel seems to feel it at the same time.

"Are you sure bout this?" He asks, and you nod. "I'll be right here with you the whole time. We can leave whenever you want." You don't answer him. You just take a deep breath and start walking toward the stairs—bullet holes and rusty, dried blood line the path up to your third-floor apartment, but other than that everything is the same. There's even still a flyer on the bulletin board advertising an apartment-wide potluck set the week after Outbreak Day. Jane wanted to go. She said her friends were going and she wanted you to meet them. You said you'd think about it.

When you reach the top of the stairs, you find your apartment door still open and immediately regret not closing it. What if there's nothing left? What if it's been raided? What if it's all destroyed? You push yourself forward until you're over the threshold and back into the life you left behind. The body of the runner who burst into your apartment that night is still there, grey and all but dust at this point. Dirty plates sit in the sink. Jane's kindergarten homework has slid off the table and onto the floor, her scribbly handwriting boring holes into you. You pick it up despite it having boot marks and ripped edges and stare down at how she wrote her name. Joel doesn't say anything, but he squeezes your shoulder and lets you know he's there.

Together, you silently move through the rooms and salvage whatever you find. In your room, you find ratty old clothes from 2003, medical textbooks, and a file full of important documents shoved under your bed. Among the papers are your tax forms, a copy of your college diploma, and Jane's birth certificate— the only physical proof that she was ever here. Jane Eloise born April 7th, 1998, to you and no one else. Somehow, the glaring absence of Matt's name on her birth certificate still makes your stomach turn. You find a few more keepsakes before moving to the living room.

Whatever might've been there has been taken or destroyed by whoever's been in the building in the last twenty years. The blankets and pillows that once lived on your couch are gone. Your TV has been smashed in. The shoes Jane always left in the middle of the floor have disappeared, probably taken by some other parent who was desperate and was too scared to think of the child who left them. You're about to walk down the hallway to the bathroom and Jane's room when something crunches under your foot. You look down, and all the air gets punched out of your chest. As gently as possible, you bend down to pick up the shattered picture frame and stare at it. 

It was a picture taken by a friend at the county fair. Jane is on your right with a half-eaten blue cotton candy in her hand and a water bottle tucked under her arm. Her hair is in a braid, and there's a big blue stain on her Princess Ariel shirt, but she looks happy. You're both smiling big, the reflection of the colorful carnival lights shining in your identical eyes. Everyone always said she looked like Matt, but you can clearly see your features reflected back to you in this picture. God, how could you have forgotten about the way her eyes crinkled when she was happy? Or how she leaned into you in public? Or how young you both were?

"What's that?" Joel asks as he walks over to you, and you meet him halfway to show him the picture, unwilling to hand it over just yet. It takes him a minute to realize what he's looking at, but when he does, he looks up to catch you staring at the picture. "'S that Jane?"

"Mhm,"

"She's beautiful," he says, and you smile. "Is that cotton candy?"

"Yeah, it was her favorite. Practically begged me to buy it for her. I'm pretty sure I overdrafted my bank account just to get it."

"How old are you in this photo?" He asks, and you furrow your brows as you think. 

"Uh, Jane looks about three or four, so I was, at least, nineteen."

"You look happy."

"And tired," you say. Both things are true, but you can't ignore the bags under your eyes or your horribly fitting clothes. You were struggling. You were alone. You were so incredibly ill-equipped and felt the weight of the world on your shoulders. And Jane... Jane is none the wiser. She's smiling. She's fed. She's loved. She's happy. Maybe you were doing a better job than you thought you were. "You know she wanted to go on the Ferris wheel?" You ask, and Joel raises his eyebrows.

"That little?" He asks, and you laugh, nodding.

"I said the same thing, but she was so determined. So, my friend got us tickets to go on it, and we went, just the two of us. But when we started going around, she started getting really scared about the height and how fast it was going. She buried her head in my arm almost the whole time, and I was stressed that she was miserable and we had wasted my friend's money, and I was so fucking tired," you say. "But when we stopped at the top, I told her to look at the sky, and she did. I pointed at the different stars and talked to her about the moon, and she calmed down. I don't know if I distracted her or if she realized how big the sky was in comparison, but when we got down, all she could talk about was how close she got to the moon. After that, we'd go out every night and look at the stars. Even snuck out of our QZ shelter after the Outbreak."

"D'you get caught?" 

"Once. I knew a FEDRA guy, and he let it go. We never got caught again." You haven't thought about Owen in years. You don't know if he's dead or alive. You don't even know if he remembers you. You're not sure if you want to know. 

You grab a few more things from her room: a teddy bear, a few shirts, and a picture of you and her on the day she was born. Being in her space again makes your head swim, and you want to stay here forever and leave as soon as possible, all at the same time. Eventually, after combing through every nook and cranny you still know, you do leave. You say a proper goodbye to the first home you shared with Jane and the memories you made there. You're silently grateful to the apartment for holding so many treasures you would've otherwise never gotten back. 

You don't know why, but you trace your steps back through one of your old routes. Joel is silent beside you and lets you lead, knowing you would never do anything to endanger him. You recount stories as you pass certain buildings or paths; he listens and asks questions about her and your shared life. Before you know it, you're on the same hill overlooking the QZ. The one where you hid with her when the Outbreak first happened. The one you sat down on and sobbed after Adam died because you had to pull yourself together before reentering. The one you buried her on. 

The tree holding her has gotten bigger, its limbs stretching to the sky and the leaves a brilliant green. Seeing it thrive makes you smile just a little before you pivot and start walking to where you know she is. The sight of a fresh bouquet on her spot stops you in your tracks and makes your breath catch. All these years, you worried she would go unremembered under that big oak tree. You worried she was alone and scared. You worried and worried and worried because that's what any good parent does. The yellow flowers protecting her prove your worries wrong. You take a deep breath and grab Joel's hand before walking over to her. 

"Hey bug," you start, fighting your tears, "This is Joel. He’s Sarah’s dad and he’s my… he’s my best friend." You squeeze Joel’s hand and take a shaky breath. "He takes care of me and I take care of him. So, you don’t have to worry about Mommy being lonely, okay? I’m gonna be just fine. You don’t have to be scared for me. I've got my people here just like you've got your people there. So, you just rest and I'll be okay." Now, you're really crying and there's no stopping it.

"I love you. I hope leaving didn't make you think otherwise, but I came back. I'll always come back because you're my baby. You'll always be my baby."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

[ifearzombies]

Headcanons about Living in the HOL

1- [x]

2- [x]

3- [x]

Now for more!

- You have suggested therapy to the brothers. A lot. They still haven’t agreed, but you’re going to keep trying because even with you doing all you do FUCKING HELL do these boys have trauma to deal with.

- You’ve gone down and visited Lilith’s memorial in the basement a several times. You talk to her and occasionally lay a flower on her ‘grave’ and thank her for helping you in the small ways she’s been able to.

- You hired an artist to make a family portrait and have everyone in it; even Lilith. It hangs in the living room over the fireplace.

- You’ve grown to... tolerate Solomon’s cooking. You’ve told him point blank that the food isn’t really edible. You’ve told him he’s terrible at cooking. But it’s in one ear and out the other. It normally goes as such:      MC: “Solomon. Honey. I love you. But your cooking is rancid!”      Solomon: “You love me?!” 8D “Let me make you dinner!”

- Diavolo has plans for you to eventually teach at RAD. Mostly to teach about Earth history and cultures; which has led to you studying extra hard and wondering why Solomon isn’t going to be helping you teach since he’s lived through history. But Diavolo’s plan is for him to teach ancient languages.

- You spend some nights at the palace every month. The brothers always get jealous when you go. Especially when you come back with a tell-tale limp. Or being carried back home.

- You were sadly at ground zero when Luke snuck into Asmo’s room and his innocence became lost since Asmo had porn of himself playing on his laptop and was ‘enjoying’ it (because of course he faps to videos of himself). You tried to stop the little angel but he’s like an actual child and darts the moment you blink. Simeon was outraged, but you pointed out that Luke didn’t knock. Asmo was glad you stuck up for him because he was certain he was headed for a bath of holy water otherwise. It took Luke a month before he could stand to be around Asmo again. It took longer for Luke to look at him again.

- Since Satan is not allowed to have a real cat (not that Satan cares as he has at least 10 ‘hidden’ ones), Mammon bought him a realistic robot cat for his room. Satan nearly cried tears of joy. Satan did cry when a book-a-lance fell and broke it. Lucifer replaced it so that Satan didn’t start destroying stuff once the sadness went away.

- Lucifer knows about the cats. He lets Satan think it’s a secret so that Satan won’t try to get an amount that would be noticeable. You found this out when you went to bring Lucifer some coffee and found him petting one of Satan’s cats. You were sworn to secrecy.

- You tried edible underwear with Beel once. And only once. He accidentally bit your thigh and you have small scars from the indents of his teeth. He felt awful about it, still does, and anytime he’s between your legs for fun he kisses the scars in apology. Also he found the rest of the edible underwear you’d intended to use with others and ate them like a snack. You’ve decided to not bother with them anymore.

- Belphie and Satan ask you to every Anti-Lucifer League meeting. If you don’t attend, they email you the minutes of their meeting to see if you wanna join in in pranks.

- Despite your bedroom lock being enchanted, Diavolo can and has waltzed into your room and started cuddling you. Barbatos chastizes him every time as he comes in with him, but it still happens.

- You have shown Simeon the movie ‘Sister Act’. It’s now his favorite movie. You two sometimes sing ‘Ave Maria’ together, stomping and clapping the beat. Luke joins in when he can.

-You had a custom plush made for Levi of his goldfish. He cried tears of joy and it now sits in a glass case in his room.

[fanaticsnail]

Aaa, Yandere Doffy ordering all the pink & red roses for Reader, MY HEART 🥹🥹❤️❤️How can we not love this crazy but devoted man? 🩷🩷

Also, thank you for writing for Rosinante, he deserves all the love. Now I'm curious about that fic! AAAAAA! If Lami was still alive, she'd love Cora-san. Rosinante and Lami would just be the sweetest while Law and Doflamingo stand there feeling awkward as older brothers 😂

I'm glad you liked the wedding idea. The guests would all have to wear pink, while only Doflamingo & Reader wear white. No way is there not a flamingo-themed wedding cake. There totally is. And the carpet is pink, too.

Following the little Law, imagine how Minion Island will be...

After killing Rosinante (Rosinante 😭😭) Yandere Doffy gets word of Tsuru approaching he tells everyone to haul ass back to the ship because you're on the ship, and the warship is incoming and this man just takes flight on his strings to get to the ship quicker and drops the chest (in which Law is) with a thump on the ground that the chest judders and flips over, unlocking itself, and Law falls out but Doflamingo doesn't see him scrambling in the snow cus the baby boy is so small and because Doflamingo is leaping to the ship and putting up Spiderwebs all around to protect you.

He didn't get the Op-Op fruit. He didn't get Law. His own brother betrayed him. You're the only person he has left that he loves and he won't lose you. He is about to fly to intercept Tsuru's ship and destroy it, but his crew arrives - about time! - and they set sail in time and get away while cannonfire fills his ears. (And mutes Law's now audible cries of sadness because Cora-san is gone)

After they shake Tsuru off, Doflamingo rushes down to the lower deck to check on you.

And then you ask where are Law and Corazon.

Good luck, Doffy. You're sleeping on the couch for a year if you're lucky 😂

Also, yes to little Law pulling out a binder and writing down Reader's symptoms. There are definitely tender touches Doffy gives Reader in the night when nobody watches, I like to think. I wonder if Rosinante reveals himself to Reader and offers to take her too, but she grabs him by the collar and tells him very firmly, "Save Law, Corazon. You make sure you cure him. Law is the most important thing. Law needs to live. Make sure Law lives."

And Rosinante nods.

In the end, Rosinante made sure to keep his promise.

To end on a wholesome note...

I like to think Yandere Doffy carries you in his arms and takes flight over Dressrosa so you get some fresh air. Can't always stay in your bedroom, you need to move your limbs a bit regardless of being sick, and the doctor said it was okay as long as you don't strain yourself. When he flies with the sun on his face, carrying you in one arm while the other handles the strings, the wind ruffling his hair, his body heat embracing you... And then he notices you staring up at him and he smiles down at you, a genuine smile the King of Dressrosa gives no one but you, his wife.

Doflamingo makes sure his feather coat is wrapped around you to keep the chill of the breeze in the sky away.

Yandere Doffy train continues driving. 🦩🦩

Why must you hurt me like this with the dialogue?

You: "Corazon? Where is Corazon? That is why we came here, yes? Where is my brother in law?"

Doflamingo: broody silence

You: "What are you not telling me? What-... What are you saying?"

Doflamingo: removes his glasses and hangs his head

You: "What-.... What have you done?"

Doflamingo: "What I had to."

You: heart catching in your throat, hands clasped around your mouth and violently shaking your head

You: "Not... Not him. Not him."

ANYWAY THAT'S JUST ME. HOW WE ALL DOING?

Lami would love Rosi, no doubt in my mind. Law's life would be so different if she lived, same with his folks.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 1 thoughts

here we goooooo!

(i started to imagine the sound of a really long and celebratory air horn to commemorate starting s2... but then that mental sound was awful so we ended that pretty quick)

it opens with mulder providing some gentle asmr about aliens and space with a thinly disguised undercurrent of rage in his voice, nice...

he starts talking about a guy named "richard bryan" cutting an alien survey program and that is such a generic name i figured they made it up for the show. and wrote "haha wouldn't it be funny if that was a real guy. and they made this whole episode just to mess with him."

chat. you're never gonna believe this. richard bryan was real and he did in fact cut the alien program. how do you think he felt being name dropped here? neeeeed to get his side of the story

(they also talk about the voyager a bit here which is really cool i won't lie)

now, what has our duo been up to in the time away from the x files? mulder is listening to men talk about lap dances and spitting sunflower seeds... i am not surprised here... all in the name of Research...

but scully is teaching at the academy!!! oh this delighted me to no end!

she starts getting emotional over the concept of a life being contained within tissue and her student is like "you sound spooky" ha. ha. i see what they did there. mulder you're a terrible influence.

they run into each other and she is so happy to see him but he totally blows her off! i was so sad!!!!

AUGH HE HAS HIS SISTER'S PHOTO ON HIS NEW DESK. aughhh man hold on. hold on.

scully is waiting outside watergate (wild they hadn't rebranded at that point tbh) for a shadowy figure and it is mulder! a very cranky and tired looking mulder! he's like we shouldn't be meeting, what do you need me for.... omg rude??

"so what did you want?" "to see if you're alright" (sound of me being sucked into emotional quicksand rapidly)

to answer her question of "are you okay" he begins to ramble about telescopes which is very in character

he says he saw deep throat's funeral but i remain suspicious....

the x files project being shut down has destroyed the man we used to know as mulder! he says that he isn't even sure if what happened to his sister is real anymore! they killed his spirit! "seeing isn't enough... i need solid evidence. i learned that from you" HEY OUCH?????

he's on the ground filled with a deep sadness and she runs her fingers through his hair, at which point i made this note: "y'all i'm only on season 2 i can't do this. i'm gasping so aggressively my mouth is hurting" so safe to say that i will be in for a hell of a ride moving forward... keep me in ur thoughts

baby fox flashback! we see his sister's abduction, which is obviously supposed to be very heavy and traumatic but i was laughing at the skinny little alien throwing her through the window lmaooo i love you 90's cgi <3

PAUSE. we see mulder waking up in a cold sweat from reliving his worst memory. but i see something new in the background: a fish tank in his room. this is a striking development that shall not slip by unnoticed.

and then some guy bursts into his room? and takes him to "the hill" to meet with a politician, who keeps calling him fox? who says they're being listened to? and tells him he needs to go to puerto rico where they're hiding evidence?

(tbh that sequence raised a lot more questions than it answered but i did love that mulder can name the bach piece that is being played because of his college music class lol)

SKINNER MENTIONED!!!! okay i figured out who he is: he's the one with the glasses and the fancy desk and the sidekick who is ALWAYS smoking. glad to have a name to the face. like yeah he was there last season but i had other things to focus on i guess.

cutscene to mulder lounging in a truck bed in puerto rico. niiiice. climbing compilation- niiiiiiice. and busting things open? hell yeah niiiiice

gasp... scully broke into his place (which i think is an entirely new set? or at least from a different angle. but um. okay i'll try and ignore that. but can anyone confirm or deny...?)

anyway she puts her glasses on and slips into password guessing mode and succeeds... i would have thought the FBI would keep tighter passwords on their personal devices than "trustno1" but hey maybe he did that so she could strategically break in!

and some dudes bust in and ask why she's here so she's like ummm i feed the fish lol.....

(and then she refuses to endanger the fish by overfeeding them because that's the type of person she is... and if it provides cover for sneaking out something printed from his computer well that's just a bonus!)

back to puerto rico!! guy in the bathroom reveal!!! mulder cannot speak spanish (smh mulder you were supposed to be the humanities one) but the dude draws a picture of an alien so i guess that proves that art is a universal language <3

scully is taking his paper she printed to some guy to analyze idk her freckles were distracting me again. sorry. NOT! i refuse to apologize. not during june.

(but she goes through some flight records and sees his alias and realizes where he's going and follows)

again, back to puerto rico! our new friend jorge is running for his life into a storm so our patient pal mulder naturally runs after him. into the jungle. and ohhhh jorge is dead now? that was quick.

he does a DIY autopsy on jorge while speaking into the voice recorder- which he addresses as "scully", while sounding like he is going to get sick, kicking things, sweating profusely, and doubting himself. hell yeah baby this is tv! i wanna see that man in situations!

"before i could only trust myself, now i can only trust you, and they've taken you away from me... my life up until this point has been about seeing her again, but what would i do if they really came?"

(now the first part of that is WILD. they've taken you away from me. that phrasing... also, they have successfully gotten the man to doubt his entire existence. sneaky little fbi trick there, making "trust no one" include himself)

BUT the skinny legend aliens return and he is brought back to his sense quickly. he gave it a good go (shot at it a bunch of times) but weirdly the gun didn't fire... probably a good thing. imagine the complications to alien diplomacy that would create!

he wakes up on the floor to scully explaining who she is and asking if he remembers her. he bolts awake, grabs her shoulders, and says that it was the same alien that took his sister. she is already deeply concerned when he then kicks aside a dead body and says we have to analyze it and her face in this moment was delightful. it was very much giving "mulder you're scaring me" just with the eyes

she has to make him realize they can't smuggle a body back to the states OR any of the paperwork really so he just grabs an audio thing that was clearly a better choice. but i want to know how he thought they were gonna get jorge out of there. because the alien hunters were coming to kill him and speed is hard enough for alive people.

"evidence doesn't matter if you're dead!" -dr. dana scully

they crash their way through the jungle, getting shot at and generally destroying what i'm sure is a very important ecosystem but still. they made it out! sorry to the environment </3

mulder gets called into skinner's office (i know that guy's name now!!! i'm so proud) and yelled at for blowing off his case work... and cigarette sidekick is also yelling at him but skinner kicks ciggy man out... is he... an ally? he tells him to go back to work on the job mulder finished like 2 weeks ago...... okay so what i'm seeing here is a boss who is willing to let a man pursue his passions

at the very end we see our duo reunited and it appears the audio he smuggled out of puerto rico had nothing recorded on it!

she tries to encourage him and he seems to be doing better: "i may not have the x files, scully, but i still have my work... (looong pause) and i still have you... (looong pause) and i still have myself" <- okay so looks like we're getting our boy back!!! who cheered?! meee!

he returns to the recording of men discussing strippers and she grasps his hand and then leaves him to his task...

BUT! the minute she leaves, he puts the first audio file back on and it seems to be working now... so why didn't he want her to know???

what is going on!!! i thought "trust no one" would logically mean mulder not trusting himself, but to not trust scully? well, this is madness! what have they done to the man?!

i suppose i will have no choice but to stay tuned and see if his mental state improves a bit with the return of the aliens...

i was really excited to start s2 and i took a lot of notes even for me LMAO some of which i cut out because it would take me forevvvver to capture all of my thoughts in even more detail than i have here but-

as the kids say: we are sooooooo back baby!!!!

[noirvette]

WE NEVER EXISTED

[band smau]

[SIXTEEN]

masterlist.

prev. | next.

cws: depression, substance abuse

Note: This chapter and chapter 17 will be happening simultaneously whereas Chapter 18 will happen a day after the events of these two chapters.

Cold, you were physically cold. Mentally numb. The situation didn't feel right to you. It didn't feel real. Being holed up in your apartment with nothing but a bottle of alcohol was your sense of normalcy; a fucked up version of normalcy but it made you feel okay.

You weren't okay though. You don't think you'd ever feel okay again, if you'd ever feel loved again.

Twitter had sent a barrage of nice and comforting messages on your recent tweet, which had been a couple days ago, but you couldn't bring yourself to even scroll on your phone. Every time you did, Kenny was there, in some way, a remnant of who he was to you was there.

It may have been in a tweet he sent, he could even be mentioned in a tweet about you, and those stupid fucking twitter threads talking about how "Every time Kenny mistreated Y/n" pissed you off greatly.

Instagram was worse, you haven't been able to stomach the images of him on your feed, having him still up in a weird way.. made you feel sane.

The Kenny who cheated on you was a different Kenny in the photos you told yourself. The Kenny in your feed, the Kenny in your past tweets, the Kenny in paparazzi pictures was YOUR boyfriend Kenny.

Your Kenny wouldn't cheat.

He wouldn't EVER cheat.

He wouldn't cheat.

He wouldn't.

He did.

Your throat closes up at the memory of last night, of Kyle telling you. Of Kenny desperately telling you to not check Twitter, his I love you's, his sorry's, the hugs the band gave you.

You thought back to how Clyde clung on to you, how he was the last one to leave because he refused to let you be by yourself until you shut him out of your apartment.

How Stan fell to his knees beside you as you finally tried to get up to go home. How he sat with you on the cold unforgiving ground until the feeling in your legs were back.

How Nichole blocked Kenny's number for you, how she called Kenny on her phone and yelled at him for a solid half hour for what he did to you.

How Kyle was the first one to tell you, how he held you so tightly and whispered that it was okay.. you could've almost believed him.

How the band walked you home, how they didn't want to let you go, how they didn't want you to be by yourself.

You felt numbness, you felt despair, you just felt empty. Like your whole world suddenly got mirrored and nothing felt right anymore.

You felt angry, sudden bursts of anger that made you want to destroy everything that reminded you of Kenny and yet as soon as those bursts came they were gone. It was back to being numb and feeling like stone.

You felt sick, from the situation but you're sure in your hazy cloudy mind that the two bottles of empty wine and the third half drank isn't helping you at all either. You weren't even a fan of wine, you just saw the bottles and grabbed them, heading to your room.

You heard your phone go off besides you, probably numerous texts from the girls, probably some from the boys too, but you couldn't bring yourself to turn over.

How long had Kenny been pretending?

Did Kenny harbor feelings for Red prior to you leaving for the tri-state tours?

All those times you had been together since you've been back.. was he pretending you were Red?

When did he fall out of love with you? Why didn't he just tell you?

Why did?

Why would Kenny?

Your thoughts were spiraling and you take another sip of wine, you planned on getting drunk enough to where your thoughts were so jumbled that you couldn't make sense of your own self.

Maybe that way you couldn't feel anymore pain..

You just didn't want to feel anymore. It was all too much too handle, the numbness, the anger, the sadness, the self pity, you didn't want to handle this anymore. You wanted an escape.

You downed the glass and poured yourself another.

"I shouldn't.. drink anymore." You thought, a lone logical, smart thought ran through your mind.

You took a sip.

You moved to grab your phone and you unblocked Kenny. You're not sure why, maybe your drunk mind craved him so much despite what he did that you did the one thing you promised Nichole you wouldn't do.

You took another sip.

Kyle sighed, the stress of dealing with making sure money went back to people and solidifying changed dates sucked. He didn't even bother fully solidifying new dates, he wanted to make sure you were fully okay first.

Kyle wanted to do everything for you. Starting with making sure you were okay.

He knew exactly how badly you were hurting.

Well, maybe not exactly, but he knew you weren't doing okay and he felt guilty for not being there right now, especially because he told you the news.

He doesn't regret telling you, he just regrets the consequence of telling you.

Being told news that your boyfriend is cheating on you is world shattering. He knew there was no easy way to tell you, he just didn't want to see you in a world of pain. And so his guilt festers.

The band group chat was silent. Everyone was giving you space but Kyle couldn't help but wonder if that was the smart move. Were you self destructing? Were you lashing out? Were you taking this more in stride and a bit more smoothly?

Did he need to be there for you?

He knew yes he needed to be there for you, but did you want him there? Would you be angry if he showed up? If he made sure you were okay.

You hadn't responded to his texts, anybody's texts for that matter. Which made Kyle a bit nervous. He was scared for you, worried about you.

He was worried about himself.

Kyle pushes the hair out of his face and looks down at the ground. It was no secret to anyone that Kyle had fallen in love with you in high school. He wouldn't be surprised if you even knew that, but Kenny had begun dating you quicker than he could've blinked.

He didn't want to push himself onto you like he was hoping him being there for you meant he was hoping a relationship would start.

He wanted you to heal.

Second guessing himself was self destructive, he got that, he just didn't want his selfless actions to be perceived in a certain way. Especially with the media traction, he knew rumors would start and he didn't want to divide the friend group anymore than it already is.

Kyle sighed.. he'll check up on you tomorrow.

Kenny was at his wits end. He didn't know what to do. He royally fucked up, he knows that, hell the whole world knows that.

People on Twitter coming after him, people on Twitter congratulating him, he felt sick reading those who agreed with his actions. He didn't even agree with his own actions.

He was sorry. He was so deeply sorry and he doubted there was a way to actually get his sorryness across to you.

He didn't want your forgiveness. Kenny was grown enough to recognize this was a mistake that was undoable, that there was no way he could ever come back from this.

Nichole yelled at him at him last night and he soak in every word, everything she said was true. He was lowest of the low, he was a blood sucking leech.

That he didn't deserve you, that you didn't deserve what he did to you.

That he was scum.. that people who are trashy belong to each other and how Nichole 'hopes he and Red have a life they deserve.'

He sighed, he was blocked on your phone. It was the only thing he was blocked on. He still had access to your Twitter and Instagram, even Snapchat was still accessible.

Most of the friend group had blocked him too.

The only ones who hadn't were Stan, Butters, and Tolkien.

Tolkien was out of the country though right now and when Tolkien finds out what's happening he's sure he'd get blocked too.

Kenny groans and turns his phone on and debates sending you a message despite knowing it wouldn't go anywhere.

He does so anyways, pouring his thoughts into one final message even if you won't receive it.

His surprise came from when the message went through.

Ding!

Your phone goes off and you open your bleary eyes to read the message, eyes widening when you realize it was Kenny.

Anger filled your entire being again. How DARE he gets to talk big about how he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.

How dare he gets to act like he's a victim in this as well. He could he just text you talking about how he understands how badly he fucked up?

Of course you didn't deserve to be cheated on, who fucking does? Is he serious? You were pissed beyond belief that you couldn't even fathom the stupidity that Kenneth McCormick was.

You quickly typed a response and re-blocked him. Kenneth 'Kenny' McCormick was dead to you. You never wanted to deal with him ever again. You shut your phone off and laid back in bed, exhaustion taking over and you let it.

TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @frogindisguise @revzxn @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @bonez4brainz @s0l4riss @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold

[meowriddler]

Baker reader x Edward headcanons

A/n: here is some random headcanons I wrote.

Warning: I didn’t proofread this 👍😃 and it’s my first time writing headcanons ( I have no idea what I’m doing)

-Imagine you’re working in a bakery. It's pretty lonely. There weren't many customers throughout the day, which made you a bit sad.

- And bored terribly bored

- Normally, every day would be filled with people, but ever since that robbery that happened a few blocks from where you are, no one wants to be close to this place.

- It's been about a week now without customers coming in, and that isn't really good for the business but is worse for your boredom.

-But one day a new customer walked in. He was dressed in a slightly too big on him windbreaker, which made him appear smaller than he actually is.

-It was Also in the middle of summer, so what the hell-

- He had brown flattened hair, and he wore glasses.

-He was cute, but in a dorky kind of way.

-You still welcomed him in with a bright smile, and you were excited to finally have a customer.

-“Welcome in! How can I help you?"

-Edward was not ready for such a heartwarming welcome. He isn't sure how to react.

-He just wanted something sweet from your bakery, but after seeing you react so brightly to his presence, he isn't sure what to pick.

-Is there any "you" option?' He thought that to himself ( of course not having the balls to actually say that out loud lmaoo)

-He could barely stutter out his order without looking like a complete idiot.

-But that was ok; you still gave him a warm smile and took his order, which might’ve made his heart beat a bit quicker than usual, but you will never know that.

-After that incident, he couldn’t stop coming back for the sweets ( you)

-Our boy here becomes infatuated by u ( good luck on trying to get rid of him now! )

-He soon became your favorite customer. He was always quiet and polite, and his voice was as tame as his looks, never wanting to draw too much attention to himself.

-The way his face lights up every time you ask him to tell you one of his riddles or really talk to him about any of his interests ( which involved puzzles and riddles)

-Yeah, you totally aren’t falling for him or anything, right?

-You insisted on giving him baked goods for free, but he can't accept that; that isn't fair.

-But with your insistance (basically forcing him to accept it), he eventually took them.

-He even lets you test out new recipes on him (even the bad ones, but he won’t tell you that). He would always compliment your baking skills, always letting you know how ur pastries were the best thing he ever had in his life (which was true) with rosy cheeks and that cute little smile of his that you adore.

-Eventually he asks you out because he couldn’t take it anymore, even if there was a chance of you rejecting him (which would literally destroy him).

-He was shaking like a leaf while sweating buckets because, god, look at you, with that glint in your eyes staring back at his, seeming to be quite apprehensive while he tries to form actual words.

"Hey, I w-was wondering if you, um, would you know? Um, how can I say this?" he mumbles to himself (he practiced this like a million times in front of his bathroom mirror). He glances back at you while, of course, you offer him your kind smile, waiting for him to continue being so patient (god, he wanted you so badly).

He takes a deep breath and finally spits the words out that have been clinging to the back of his throat since the first time he met you.

"I-I wanted to know if you would like to go out with me if you wanted too! I-I'm not trying to force you or anything; you can always say no."

"Edward!" you call out to him. "I already said yes!" you exclaimed while giggling at his awkward confession.

(He wishes he could record your laugh just so he could play it on repeat.)

Anyway, back to more important matters:

He looks at you through his glasses as they slip down the bridge of his nose, trying to process what you just said.

Wait, you actually said yes.

Edward felt like dropping down on his knees. Maybe God is actually real!

But wait, he didn’t really plan that far.

You can tell he started to panic over the date, so you suggested a movie over at his apartment. Maybe you can even make him a treat.

He wanted to impress you by making your favorite cake, which shouldn’t be hard for him.

That was a lie. It was horrible. The cake looked like it was about to collapse on itself; it also looked half baked, maybe even raw, and he’s literally covered from head to toe in flour.

He felt like crying at this point. If you were coming in any minute, maybe he could try making another one.

He heard a knock at his door. It’s too late now; you're already here. 💀

He walks to his door with his head hanging low in shame. He opens the door to reveal

Standing there, looking more radiant than ever and also so very pretty (could he say that out loud?)

"Hey Eddie I brought you your favorite pumpkin. Wait, why are you covered in flour?" Now looking more confused, instead of answering you, he might as well show you.

He stands aside for you to come in, and what a surprise it was.

It looked like a cake (a deformed one), but still a cake!

He stands there awkwardly waiting for your response, which made him nervous as hell; he couldn’t read your face.

What if you don’t like him anymore? Do you even like him? Oh my god, what if you hate him so much now because of this? God, he was such a dumbass to have thought someone would actually like him. -

“I love it!"

“Wait, what was that?”

“I said I loved it." Now, looking back at Eddie, smiling so hard, your cheeks are starting to hurt. No guy has ever tried making you something so sweet, even if it looked raw. But It was still sweet.

You went up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist (he’s tall, ok?) absolutely smothering him with affection, not caring about the flour he was covered in.

Edward lets out a gasp, not expecting this reaction at all, especially having you this close (he can almost smell that fruity scented shampoo you always use; it adds to your already aching sweetness). He hesitates before wrapping his warm arms around you, completely engulfing you in his embrace.

He wishes to stay like this forever just standing here, feeling you around him.

Nothing good lasts forever, though. As you sadly pull away, your scent still lingers where your body was pressed up against his (giving him not-so-family-friendly thoughts).

As you look up at Eddie, you find him giving you a goofy smile while his cheeks are tinted red (god, you really are in love with this nerd).

You break the comforting silence first: "How about you go change while I get everything ready, ok?"

It takes him a few minutes to snap back (honestly, he’s really touch starved) just by a hug, you got him all spaced out on cloud nine.

He comes back fresh and clean ( also after giving himself a prep talk).

You guys end up chilling on the couch, sharing the best pumpkin pie ever (in Edward’s words, not urs), while watching a cheesy rom-com movie.

Thank u for reading and I hope u enjoyed this don’t forget to drink water

If u guys enjoyed this concept I might do a full fic 👹 but who knows lol

[patronsaintofelsewhere]

'snow & dirty rain' by richard siken is so aziracrow-coded (the good omens brain-rot is so strong and so crippling)

Close your eyes. A lover is standing too close to focus on. Leave me blurry and fall toward me with your entire body. Lie under the covers, pretending to sleep, while I'm in the other room. Imagine my legs crossed, my hair combed, the shine of my boots in the slatted light. I'm thinking My plant, his chair, the ashtray that we bought together. I'm thinking This is where we live. When we were little we made houses out of cardboard boxes. We can do anything. It's not because our hearts are large, they're not, it's what we struggle with. The attempt to say Come over. Bring your friends. It's a potluck, I'm making pork chops, I'm making those long noodles you love so much. My dragonfly, my black-eyed fire, the knives in the kitchen are singing for blood, but we are the crossroads, my little outlaw, and this is the map of my heart, the landscape after cruelty which is, of course, a garden, which is a tenderness, which is a room, a lover saying Hold me tight, it's getting cold. 

We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven, which brings us back to the hero's shoulders and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it. The lawn drowned, the sky on fire, the gold light falling backward through the glass of every room. I'll give you my heart to make a place for it to happen, evidence of a love that transcends hunger. Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars for you? That I would take you there? The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube? We've read the back of the book, we know what's going to happen. The fields burned, the land destroyed, the lovers left broken in the brown dirt. And then it's gone.

Makes you sad. All your friends are gone. Goodbye Goodbye. No more tears. I would like to meet you all in Heaven. But there's a litany of dreams that happens somewhere in the middle. Moonlight spilling on the bathroom floor. A page of the book where we transcend the story of our lives, past the taco stands and record stores. Moonlight making crosses on your body, and me putting my mouth on every one. We have been very brave, we have wanted to know the worst, wanted the curtain to be lifted from our eyes. This dream going on with all of us in it. Penciling in the bighearted slob. Penciling in his outstretched arms. Our father who art in Heaven. Our father who art buried in the yard. Someone is digging your grave right now. Someone is drawing a bath to wash you clean, he said, so think of the wind, so happy, so warm. It's a fairy tale, the story underneath the story, sliding down the polished halls, lightning here and gone. We make these ridiculous idols so we can pray to what's behind them, but what happens after we get up the ladder? Do we simply stare at what's horrible and forgive it?

Here is the river, and here is the box, and here are the monsters we put in the box to test our strength against. Here is the cake, and here is the fork, and here's the desire to put it inside us, and then the question behind every question: What happens next? The way you slam your body into mine reminds me I'm alive, but monsters are always hungry, darling, and they're only a few steps behind you, finding the flaw, the poor weld, the place where we weren't stitched up quite right, the place they could almost slip right through if the skin wasn't trying to keep them out, to keep them here, on the other side of the theater where the curtain keeps rising. I crawled out the window and ran into the woods. I had to make up all the words myself. The way they taste, the way they sound in the air.

I passed through the narrow gate, stumbled in, stumbled around for a while, and stumbled back out. I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is. So how would you catalog it? Dawn in the fields? Snow and dirty rain? Light brought in in buckets? I was trying to describe the kingdom, but the letters kept smudging as I wrote them: the hunter's heart, the hunter's mouth, the trees and the trees and the space between the trees, swimming in gold. The words frozen. The creatures frozen. The plum sauce leaking out of the bag. Explaining will get us nowhere. I was away, I don't know where, lying on the floor, pretending I was dead. I wanted to hurt you but the victory is that I could not stomach it. We have swallowed him up, they said. It's beautiful. It really is. I had a dream about you. We were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want. You said Tell me about your books, your visions made of flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This is the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube... 

We were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want, so I said What do you want, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me. Here I am leaving you clues. I am singing now while Rome burns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack, my silent night, just mash your lips against me. We are all going forward. None of us are going back.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Sauvignon Blanc | Guest Check

Tags: Nina first person POV train of consciousness, suicidal thoughts, self harm, substance abuse, it's a heavy one, sorry

The year I was born was the year that the government made it so that paracetamol had to be sold in blister packs rather than bottles. It was meant to prevent suicides as opening up individual packs was harder and gave a person more time to think. I want nothing more than to kill myself every time I have to dig my nail in to pop the foil but whatever. It worked, at least from what I've been told, never bothered to actually look it up.

Paracetamol poisoning is lousy fucking way to go anyways. Very English to choose a slow and miserable death. On par with the other preferred, yet slow, method of alcoholism. Nothing beats a destroyed liver and kidneys, I suppose.

I decided years ago how I'd kill myself. I won't mention it here in case someone gets nosy and gets me sectioned. It's not something I dwell on, but it feels like a back up plan, I guess. Like how some women have a secret cash fund in case their boyfriend beats them, I have my suicide plan.

I don't want to kill myself. More out of not wanting to hurt Kyle than anything else. It also seems like too much work most days. Why kill myself when I can drink a bottle of wine and curl up in bed?

There are rough days.

Like a spring is being compressed inside me and one day it'll release in some violent display against myself. I have to gently release the pressure. Always quietly. Always invisibly. Fear of my father trumped all other emotions growing up.

Plucking body hair (avoid the face!) and skin picking and scratching (avoid face and hands!) being two particular favorites of mine. One pair of tweezers can reliably do both. Sit in the tub to clean away any hair, skin or blood. Come out and present myself like the glossy, red eyed girl I am.

It's my biggest secret, strangely proud of that. Kyle doesn't know, despite once walking in on me aggressively plucking arm pit hair out (Do you not own a razor, you weirdo?). Growing up in the early era of "mental health awareness" that hammered in this behavior was not done for attention. That only made me feel worse as a teen, who fantasied whole heartedly about her father walking in on her, razor in hand, who would then fall to his knees and sob out apologies for not paying enough attention to her to notice. I never good at getting his attention in the first place so feeling like it was faux pas only increased my covert skills.

None of that helps with the post pain shame. The patheticness of it all. If I was a man I could simply punch a whole in the wall and break my fist. I don't want any more pity. My family is already dead.

Everyone looks at me different now. i try to act like it doesn't bother me and most of the time it doesn't. I'm not really friends with the rest of the staff at work.

It's Kyle though. Twenty odd years of friendship and he looks at me differently. I don't know if its pity or something else but I hate it. It's like he gets sad looking at me. I don't want to be that. Sex was never rough rough but now its like he doesn't want to break me, like he's afraid to touch me.

We broke up. I couldn't fucking do it. It was like chewing glass.

The only person who doesn't look at me differently, abiet he rarely looks at me at all, is Simon. Maybe it's why I let him take me home and basically give him free reign.

I don't have to think about it. I don't have to worry about him telling me he loves me. I don't have to worry about disappointing him. It might be because he doesn't actually like me so nothing I do will make him think less of me. I can just lay there. He does the work to make me cum and that's it. Wears a condom without complaint too.

It's easy.

He doesn't stay the night, which is fine, I can just enjoy myself with a bottle of wine in bed.

Tag List: @queen-ilmaree@macravishedbymactavish@gogh-with-the-flow@water-bearz @pvssytrux

[deep-space-lines]

what is your opinion of your Geth?

deep breath OKAY. ohhh boy. here we go.

I was a "this is my OC, a sentient robot struggling with their humanity" sort of teen, which is just code for "ace and neurodivergent but doesn't know it yet", & when Legion showed up I was like, oh ok I see! I need to protect this guy with my life. stupidly long response incoming-

I love the geth so much ok. I've got a few unfinished doodles of Legion lying around because I LOVE drawing robots so much and Legion's design is just so neat, I'm really looking forward to working on their stained glass piece because mechanical stuff and stained glass go together better than one would think! It makes me sad that you can't explore all of their dialogue in ME2 without killing the Normandy's crew :( I don't remember for sure but I think I actually installed a mod that lets you talk to them more before the suicide mission, genuinely wish they'd gotten more screen time!! The geth are one of the few intelligent aliens we see whose thoughts and society are completely and truly alien and I love that!!

BUT I think ME2/3 could've handled them so much better. Especially ME3. Ok I really don’t like what ME3 does to the geth. I like ME3, but there’s a lot of things I need to mentally slap a headcanon bandage over and the geth are one of them.

The fact that they're genuinely alien and don't think the same way or view themselves as individuals the same way organics do doesn't make them any less sentient? I would've liked it so much better to see everyone overcome the challenges of understanding something that thinks in a completely different way, rather than one side having to fundamentally change to make peace possible. I loved the fact that in ME2 they didn’t seem to want to become more ‘human’/organic! Legion was already ‘alive’ before the Reaper code upgrades. Those units have a soul in Mass Effect 2 too! I just don’t really like “already clearly sentient robot has to change themselves to think more like a typical human” plots :( (glances at Data from Star Trek.. my boy you are just autistic)

I also don't like that the peaceful resolution to the geth/quarian conflict involves Legion uploading Reaper code upgrades. It just doesn't make narrative sense? We get so, so, SO many examples throughout the course of the game of a) the geth using Reaper tech and being indoctrinated, and b) other people trying to use Reaper tech for their own purposes and having it backfire big-time. ME1: The geth are controlled by Reapers so you have to kill them. ME2: The geth heretics are controlled by the Reapers because of Reaper code so you have to kill/rewrite them. ME3: The geth are being controlled by the Reapers so you have to… give them more Reaper code???

I always make peace between the geth and quarians because I love Legion and Tali, and I know there's a happy ending there so I can headcanon away a better explanation. But when I played for the first time, I had no spoilers, zero outside knowledge, and I chose to destroy the geth, because if I were Shepard in that situation and Legion was telling me they wanted to upload Reaper code because this time it's gonna be different we promise, I would not let them do that???

But APART FROM THAT I love the geth. I would've loved to see more of the geth interacting with other aliens in the galaxy after peace is made, and what impact that would have on their society. They were initially slaves, and then almost completely isolated themselves from organic life. And sure, they did some observing, but actually interacting with the other races would've been a whole different ball game, and it would've been so COOL to see the geth explore not only other cultures/societies and be surprised when they were unable to accurately predict the actions of individual organics, but also to see how they develop in relation to that, how it changes the way they see themselves. How they'd have to learn to effectively communicate with organics when they're used to sharing information at lightspeed. How they as a species would navigate political or interpersonal, rather than physical, conflict... I just wish we got more geth content bc they’re one of my favorite aliens & I really hope ME5 gives us more geth

[poppedrocksoda]

Color Theory

Chapter One- Mild Headache

Summary: Three children hang out together in the early hours of the morning. y/n and Jerome planned on destroying the jack-o'-lanterns as it was tradition for them to do so after Halloween.

Halloween was Jerome's favorite holiday. It was the time for horrors that hid in the dark to be looked in the eye. The costumes were always fun. They weren't like the circus costumes that he'd always see. The familiarity of the circus uniforms made them boring.

Though he was always sad when the night would come to an end, the next day he would take all the jack-o'-lanterns that were sitting around the circus. They were all starting to rot away with mold being more visible on the inside. He's never asked, but no one ever complained about the pumpkins that go missing. He might be doing them a favor by getting rid of them himself.

It had become somewhat of a tradition for Jerome and y/n. Try to wake up early to start throwing or smashing the carved pumpkins with objects nearby. Jerome always beat y/n in terms of waking up early because he never went to sleep. The only reason why he was able to pull an all-nighter was because of the sugar rush he'd get from binging almost all of his candy. He'd also steal from his twin's stash, but will vehemently deny the accusation.

Speaking of his twin, he never understood why Jeremiah tagged along. It's not like he threw or stomped out any of the pumpkins. He always stood back while he buried his nose into a book. Maybe he bothered being there in the first place because he knew that y/n was going to be there. Once all the pumpkins were no more, he'd shove a book into her hands and get her invested in it.

Books. Jerome never understood why his twin was so invested in them. The fact that y/n was slightly interested in them too only made it worse. Thankfully she wasn't obsessed with them to the point where she always carried a book around. Still, he always felt a pit in his stomach when Jeremiah and y/n sat close to read together.

It just wasn't something he could get invested in. Fiction or not, didn't mean a thing to him. Frankly, the only books that he has read were picture books. Which made their bond over dumb pages that much more—

"Ow!"

y/n walked in between the trailers to where Jerome said he was going to smash the pumpkins. She didn't think he'd start early, but that might be expected since he wasn't patient. What wasn't expected was a spongy yet firm pumpkin to hit the side of her head.

Her glasses flew off her face and pumpkin guts got all over her. Jerome could see tears build up as she put a hand on where she was hit. He almost wanted to roll his eyes and tell her that it probably didn't hurt that bad. His mom's hand probably hurt away more than some pumpkin.

And he probably would have said that if Jeremiah hadn't jumped onto his feet and skedaddled over to her. Comforting her while shooting a stern look at Jerome's way. Almost like he was telling him to apologize which made Jerome huff. It's not like he wasn't going to apologize, but the fact that Jeremiah felt the need to guide him was slightly irritating.

"I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't mean to hit you or anything." The little girl moved her face away from Jeremiah's hand that was wiping off the pumpkin mush. She claimed that she was alright and it didn't hurt too much with a small forced smile. Her reaction slightly eased Jerome to an extent.

It was good to know that she was okay. At least that's what she claims. Yet the forced smile only made him feel worse. 'She said she was okay, but she said nothing about not being angry.'

Just as y/n put back her glasses on Jerome called her name. y/n and Jeremiah turned their attention back to him. He held a carved pumpkin sideways above his head. y/n looked on with curiosity while Jeremiah looked on with panic.

He tried to tell Jerome to not do it, but it was too late. Jerome pushed the soft part of the pumpkin atop his head. Chunks and juice from pumpkin fell off his shoulders as he spoke with a proud grin, "We're even now."

A giggle slipped from y/n's mouth before it quickly turned into laughter. The tears that she had tried to hold back freely slipped out. As she laughed she said, "You didn't have to do that."

He shrugged as his grin turned into a wide smile after hearing her laugh. "I know, but I feel like I was missing out on the fun," He turned his attention to Jeremiah, "Do you want to join us?" The boy quickly backed away from them. He watched his brother scope pumpkin mush off the ground before flashing an impish smile.

"No, don't you dare!"

The girl hid her amused smile behind her hand and bit down on her lip to hold back a laugh. There was always something amusing seeing Jeremiah get riled up over anything. He's reserved for his age, maybe too reserved, but she always thought it was a good trait. It was admirable because she believed she was too open. Too emotional.

Jerome didn't feel like terrorizing his brother by chasing him around. It did sound fun, but he wasn't in the mood at the moment. So he put one foot forward and the other one back before throwing the pumpkin guts. A loud 'ack' came from Jeremiah as the mush covered his face. His teeth held down his tongue, preventing him from yelling at his brother.

Hearing a giggle erupt from y/n lessened his irritation. Not by much, but he didn't feel the need to berate Jerome. y/n wasn't upset anymore so he supposed that this wasn't too bad.

"You look great, Miah," Jerome spoke as Jeremiah cleaned his glasses with the lower half of his shirt, "Did you do something with your hair? What do you think, y/n?" He rolled his eyes at Jerome's words and felt his irritation rise once more.

As soon as the irrigation started bubbling like hot water, y/n's response cooled everything down. "I think he looks great with and without it." Her bashful response made Jerome roll his eyes in annoyance that she wasn't following his skit like she normally does. Feeling his disappointment she quickly added, "But I would say the moldy pumpkin is a great wardrobe improvement."

Her hastily stabled response was too late for Jerome's liking. Leaving Jeremiah to be the only one who was remotely satisfied by the outcome.

"That was funny, but I need to clean this off and maybe get an ice pack." y/n explained as she felt the throbbing pain come back. As she began walking back to her trailer Jerome ran after her to walk beside her. Jeremiah trailed behind them. "Come on, it can't hurt that much. Laughter is the best medicine and it looked like it was helping just a minute ago."

The boy behind them furrowed his eyebrows. Not appreciating how his brother dismisses how she's feeling. There could be some serious head damage, but he held back his response and let y/n playfully brush it off.

When they entered the trailer, y/n called out for her mom to get no response. The woman did tell y/n that she was going shopping during breakfast and asked if she wanted to come along. Even though she often clung to her mom, she rejected the offer and ran out of the trailer.

Jerome sat at the small dining table, not caring if he got pumpkin anywhere. He folded his arms on the table and rested his chin on it. Waiting for y/n and Jeremiah to clean up so that they could get back to destroying pumpkins. The chair he sat in was tall enough for him to swing his legs back and forth to pass the time.

Jeremiah followed y/n to the bathroom where she handed him a towel. She turned on the sink so that they get rid of any stickiness left behind. They both took off their glasses before throwing the lukewarm water on their faces. He'd stop when he noticed y/n staring at his reflection.

"What?" He asked, feeling his face reddening at her intense stare. Within a second her blank stare was gone and replaced with its usual sparkle. She cracked a bright smile, "You look weird without your glasses." He blinked before slightly smiling. "You look weird without yours."

After that short exchange, they went back to cleaning their faces. y/n couldn't help, but realize how similar Jerome and Jeremiah looked. Of course, she knew that they were twins, she just never paid attention to it or cared. She always differentiated them by how they spoke and some minor physical features.

Jerome was always louder and typically enthusiastic. He reminded her of a rabbit jumping around in the sun without a care in the world. Carefree, yet hard to get a hold of and keep up with. Hopping from one thing to another.

Jeremiah came off as meek and never spoke up unless he wanted to. She'd always listen to what he had to say since it was no secret that he was the smart one in their little group. Yet there wasn't the same infectious excitement like with Jerome.

Their eyes reflected their personality, y/n thought. Jerome's was a warm, cozy dark hazel. While Jeremiah's deep blue eyes have a sharpness to them. The way they acted and spoke complemented each other. It made her wonder if she'd prefer one over the other.

She didn't dare dwell on that thought. How could she pick between the people that she's been with since they were in diapers? She felt ashamed for even thinking that. Even if it was a simple question of who she likes being around more, it felt wrong. She wasn't even sure what brought up that question in the first place.

y/n entered the kitchen while Jeremiah went looking for something. She wasn't sure what he was looking for, but she didn't care too much. Her trailer was a second home for them since they spent so much time there. Her mom didn't seem to mind them sleeping over just as long as they went to sleep on time.

"Aren't you going to clean up?" y/n asked, but Jerome rolled his eyes. "No, let's go back outside." Her head tilted to the side with a pleasing look. He hated it when she did that. It was like she knew that was the magical key to get him to do anything. It wasn't fair and he planned to stand his ground.

"Come on, let's go." He pouted.

"Just wipe some of it off or do you want to be Pumpkin Head for the rest of the day?" Her words only made him smile. "I like the sound of that. Pumpkin Head."

The little girl wasn't sure how to respond to that or how to convince him to clean up. Before she could think of something, Jeremiah came into the room with a flashlight. Jerome asked what y/n was thinking, "What's that's for?"

He didn't acknowledge the question and asked y/n to come over to him. She glanced at Jerome who shrugged. Once she stood in front of him, he suddenly put the flashlight in her face before turning it on. "Ah! Miah, what was that for!?" y/n cried out and protected her eyes with her hands. All while Jerome laughed at them.

Jeremiah didn't react to their response. He spoke with a matter-of-fact tone, "I'm trying to check your pupil dilation." The girl made a face before whining about giving a warning first. He seemed undeterred by her response but was insistent on checking her eyes.

"I feel fine and it's not like my skull was broken."

The boy sighed before explaining the reason behind his persistence. "Head damage is a serious thing, y/n. It can have long-term effects like memory loss, headaches, could lead to depression, and more." With his grave tone and expression, y/n started to worry. She hadn't thought of that or even knew that. Though a word popped out to her. It sounded familiar and she might have heard it before. Yet she had no clue what it was or meant.

"What's," She asked, wondering if it was better not to know, "What's depression?" Jeremiah was taken aback by the question. His heart picked up as he didn't know what it was either.

Slightly inhaling, he said, "I don't know, but it's probably nothing you want." Even if they didn't know the meaning of it, it intensified their fear.

The two played doctor and patient while Jerome passed out. Getting no sleep had caught up to him. Waiting on them was such a bore. With each second that passed, his eyes started getting heavier and their voices lulled him into a dreamless slumber. By the time the two children estimated that she was probably going to be okay, Jerome was in a deep sleep.

Nothing was going to wake him. y/n didn't admire the rare moment of calmness that came from the wild child. As she heard the pop of a marker come from behind. "What did he do this time?" She asked as Jeremiah walked past her and toward Jerome. He didn't look at her when he explained that Jerome had taken his Halloween candy. How he caught the boy with his hand in the bag and took most of the "good candy". Leaving behind candy corn, licorice, and sour candy.

Even though Jerome would eat just about any candy, even the ones that the two considered the "bad candy". He'd leave behind the candy he knew Jeremiah didn't like because he'd often hand them off to him. While Jerome would eat just about anything with sugar, sour candy wasn't his favorite. He couldn't understand how Jeremiah could eat bitter or sour candy. It wasn't the worst, but not his favorite.

"I guess that's a good enough reason." y/n said, her voice trailing off. She wasn't on board with drawing on Jerome's face but thought it would be kind of funny. "I'll share my candy with you, so don't use the permanent markers. I'll get my coloring ones." Jeremiah scoffed, "Coloring markers? He'll be able to wash it off too easily and how is that going to be good payback?"

The girl didn't know how to counter that, so she didn't. She sat back and watched him draw on the sleeping boy's face. Drawing a unibrow, round glasses, and a curled mustache that looked reminiscent of a cartoon villain. Once he was done she commented, "He's going to be angry when he wakes up."

Putting the top back on the marker he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't care." A small satisfied smile graced his face. All while y/n wondered what Jerome was going to do to get back at Jeremiah. Maybe he'll hide his glasses until he says sorry or something. Either way, she was going to have front-row seats of their bickering, but that wasn't any different from how they normally are.

Even if they squabble almost every day, she wouldn't trade that for anything. She doesn't know how she'd be able to live in the circus without them.

I kind of rushed the ending, but I hope someone enjoyed it. Masterlist